Skip to main content

Full text of "The Methodist quarterly review"

See other formats 


prrv 


ALLEN  COUNTY  PUBLIC  LIBRARY 


3  1833  01735  9636 


GENEALOGY 
929.102 
M56MMB 
1853 


METHODIST 


QUARTERLY    REVIEW. 


1  8  5  3 


VOLUME  XXXV.-FOURTH  SERIES,  VOLUME  V. 


J.  M'CLINTOCK,  EDITOR. 


C:   ^■■ 


PUBLISHED   BY    CABLTOX  &  PHILLIPS, 

200     MCLBERKY-STREKT. 

1853. 


■      -^!   ^'^^033 


itMf,pMiS^^>i:.-»)iiM,;^^fP^rf?-itt^ 


fv^"-'X 


..Vk-,. 


y     /  /       /  ■ 


CONTENTS  OE  VOLUME  XXXV.-1853. 


JANUARY    NUMBER. 

RETICLE  ^'^';^ 

I.  BISHOP  HEDDING ^ 


By  the  Rev.  D.  W.  Clark,  D.  D.,  Cincinnati. 


II.  INCOMPETENCE  OF  REASON  IN  MATTERS  OF  RELIGION 
By  rrofcMOr  H.  II.  Johnson,  Dickinson  CoUege. 


29 


III.  THE  CIIITRCH  AND  ASIA ^^ 

By  the  Rev.  B.  S.  Maclay.  Missionary  at  Fuh-Chau,  China. 

IV.  THE  NEW  FRAGMENTS  OF  HYPERIDES 58 

(MODIFIED   FROM  THE  GEEM.\>f   OF  SCHAFER.) 

THEPIAHS  K.^TA  AH.MOSeENOYS.  The  Oration  of  Hypcr- 
ides  against  Demosthenes,  respecting  tlie  treasure  of  Harpalus.  The 
Fragments  of  the  Greek  Text,  now  first  edited  from  the  Facsimile  of 
the  MS.  discovered  at  f:5yptian  Thebes  in  IStT;  together  with  other 
Fragments  of  the  same  Oration  cited  in  ancient  writers.  With  a  pre- 
liminary dissertation  and  notes,  and  a  Facsimile  of  a  portion  of  the 
MS.  By  Churchill  B.vBrxGXoy,  M.  A.,  Fellow  of  St.  John's  College, 
C-arabridge. 

V.  HENGSTENBERG  ON  THE  PENTATEUCH 7-5 

By  the  Rev.  H.  M.  Harman,  Elk  Ridge,  Md. 
Dissertations  on  the  Genuineness  of  the  Pentateuch.   By  E.  W.  Hexg- 
STF.XBERG,  D.  D.,  Professor  of  Theology  in  the  University  of  Berlin. 
Translated  from  the  German,  by  J.  E.  Rylaxd. 

VI.  RECENTLY  PUBLISHED  WRITINGS  OF  NEANDER  ....     lO'i 
1.  Allgemeine  Geschichte  der  christlichen  Religion  und  Kirche,  von 

Dr.  A.  Neasder.    VI.  Band.    Aus  deu  hinterlassenon  Pupieren  her- 

ausgcgeben  von  K.  F.  T.  Schseidkr. 

1.  Wissenschaftliohe  Abhandlungen  von  Dr.  August  Ne.a.xder,  hcr- 

au^gegeben  von  Professor  J.  L.  Jacobi. 

VII.  CHATEAUBRIAND ^^^ 

By  11.  T.  Tuckerman,  New-York. 
Memoires  d'  ou'.re  Tombe  par  M.  Viscount  du  Chateaubriand. 


4  CONTENTS. 

ARTICLE  "  PAGE 

Vm.  OX   THE   RELA.TION   OF   INTELLIGENCE   TO   THE    PIETY 

AND  EFFICIENCY  OF  THE  CHURCH 123 

By  the  Kev.  T.  F.  R.  Mercein,  RhinctK;ck,  N.  Y. 


IX.  SHORT  REVIEWS  AND  NOTICES  OF  BOOKS 135 

1.  Bohn's  Classical  I/ihiarv,  p.  135.-2.  lUnstrated  London  Geog- 
raphy, p.  1;3G. — 3.  Isi-iiel  uf  the  Alps,  p.  13G. — 1.  Meyer's  Universum, 
p.  136.— .'3.  Methodist  Church  Troperty  Case  in  Ohio,  p.  13G.— G.  Ho- 
nan's  Personal  Adventures,  p.  13S. — 7.  Barnes  on  Revelation,  p.  13S. — 
8.  Kitto's  Bible  Ilhistr.itions,  p.  139.-9.  David-on's  Historical  Sketcli, 
p.  139.— K).  I'roudfit  on  the  freed,  p.  14o.— 11.  The  Mieroseopist. 
p.  140.— 1-J.  Li\  OS  of  Bishops  V.'hatcoat  and  Gcor-e,  p.  140.-13.  Oracles 
for  Youth,  p.  111).— 11.  Miller's  Sketches  of  Lmd'.n.  p.lll.— i:..  lUugh- 
ters  of /ion,  p.  111.— 10.  llanna'sLife  of  Cliahncr'^.  p.  141.— 17.  Garden 
M'alks  -with  the  Poets,  p.  141. — IS.  Romance  of  American  History, 
p.    142.-19.    Anthon's  Nepos,    p.   142.— L'O.    Table   Talk,   p.   142.— 

21.  Eclipse  of  Faith ;    or,  a  Visit  to  a  Rcll-ious   Sceptic,   p.   142. — 

22.  New  Sunday-School  books,  p.  142. — 23.  Parisian  Lights  and  French 
Principles,  p.  142. — 24.  Hi.snicr  on  the  Higher  Law,  p.  143. — 2o.  The 
National  Ma^Mzine,  p.  1 1-5. — 2G.  Taylor's  Ph}  sica)  Theory  of  Another 
Life,  p.  147.-^27.  Henkle's  Analysis"  of  Church  Government,  p.  147. — 

23.  Men  of  the  Time,  p.  149.-^29.  Miall's  Footprints  of  our  Fore- 
fathers, p.  l.V).— 30.  History  of  New -York  City.  p.  l."0.— 31.  Goodrich's 
8»?lect  British  f^loqucnce,  p.  150. — 32.  Kemiinscences  of  Thought  and 
FeeliuET,  p.  151. — 33.  Journal  of  Cieneral  Conference  of  1S52,  p.  151. — 
34.  IMethixli.st  Preacher,  p.  152. — 35.  Christian's  Closet  Companion, 
p.  152. — 3G.  Abbott's  Pvumulus.  p.  152. — 37.  Neander  on  John,  p.  152. 
— 3S.  Dickens's  Household  Words,  p.  152.— 39.  Macaulav's  Katliav, 
p.  152.-10.  Mac  Farlane's  Japan,  p.  153.-41.  Anthon's  Latin-English 
and  English-Latin  Dictionary,  p.  153. — 42.  Pamphlets,  Serials,  &c., 
p.  153. 


X.  LITERARY  AND  RELIGIOUS  ES^TELLIGENCE LM 

:  Theological— European 154 

American 1G.5 

Cl.^ssic.vl  axd  Misckllaxeous — European 16-5 

American IGs 


APRIL     NUMBER 


L  THE  ECLIPSE  OF  FAITH 169 

By  tlic  Rev.  Dr.  Floy,  New- York. 
The  Eclipse  of  Faith ;  or,  a  Yisit  to  a  Religious  Sceptic. 

n,  PORT  ROYAL 191 

By  L.  A.  H.,  New- York. 
Select  Memoirs  of  Port  Royal ;  to  which  are  appended,  Tonr  to  Alet, 
Visit  to  Port  Royal,  Gift  of  an  Abbess,  Biographical  Notes,  &c.     By  M. 

A.  SCHIMMELPEKSTN-CK. 


CONTENTS.  5 

AsnoLK  Fxax 

IIL  VESTIGES  OF  dVILKATION" 213 

Vestiges  of  Civilization  ;  or,  ^Etiology  of  History,  Religious,  ^tbeti- 
cal,  and  Philosophical. 


IV.  GEOGRAPHICAL  AKD  STATISTICAL  SCIENCE 249 

Bulletin   of  the   American   Geographical   and   Statistical    Society. 
Volume  I,  Number  1.    Published  for  the  Society  by  George  P.  PuryAM. 


V.  M'CFLLOH  ON  THE  SCRIPTURES 256 

By  Dr.  T.  E.  Bond,  Jr.,  BaUimore. 

Analytical  Investigations  concerning  the  Credibility  of  the  Scrip- 
tures, and  of  the  Religious  System  inculcated  in  them;  together  with 
a  Historical  Exhibition  of  Human  Conduct  during  the  several  dispensa- 
tions nuder  which  mankind  have  been  placed  by  their  Creator.  By  J. 
H.  M'Cuixou,  M.  D. 


VL  JAPAN  AND  THE  JAPANESE 282 

By  the  Rev.  T.  F.  R.  Mercein,  Rhinebeck,  N.  Y. 

Japan :  an  account,  Geographical  and  Historical,  from  the  earliest 
period  at  ■\vhich  the  islands  composing  this  empire  were  known  to 
Europeans  down  to  the  present  time,  and  the  Expedition  fitted  out  in 
the  United  States,  &c.  By  Charles  ]SIacFarlane,  Esq.,  Author  of 
"British  India,"  "Life  of  Wellington, "  Ac,  &c. 

VIL  EXEGESIS  OF  HEBREWS  ii,  IG 301 

By  the  Rev.  N.  Rounds,  D.  D. 

VIU.  SHORT  REVIEWS  AND  NOTICES  OF  BOOKS 305 

1.  Guizot's  Shakspeare  and  Corneille,  p.  305. — 2.  The  Bohn's  Libra- 
ries, p.  305.— 3.  Ida  Pffitfer's  Holy  Land,  p.  30G.— 4.  Rule's  Brand  of 
Dominic,  p.  306. — 5.  Vinot's  Pastoral  Theology,  p.  307. — 6.  Woman's 
Record,  p.  303. — 7.  American  Mission.arv  Memorial,  p.  309. — 8.  Smith'.s 
Book  of  :^Ianners,  p.  309.— 9.  Three  Colonies  of  Australia,  p.  309.— 
10.  Lives  of  the  tjueer.s  of  Scotland,  p.  310. — 11.  Lardner's  Hand- 
books, p.  310.-12.  Brewer's  Guide  to  Roman  History,  p.  310. — 13.  Life 
of  Doddridge,  p.  310.— 14.  Gray's  Geology,  p.  310.-15.  Strong's  Ques- 
tions, p.  311.— 16.  Peck  on  Manly  Character,  p.  311.-17.  Lectures  at 
the  University  of  Virginia,  p.  oli.'.— IS.  Coleridge's  Complete  Works, 
p.  313.— 19.  Herschel's  .\stronomy,  p.  313.-20.  Lamartine's  History  of 
the  Restoration,  p.  313.— 21.  Pleasant  Pages  for  Young  People,  p.  314. — 
22.  Wurst's  Sprachdcnklchre,  p.  314. — 23.  Cornelius  Nepos,  p.  314. — 
24.  Memoir  of  Mary  L.  Ware,  p.  314. — 25.  Meyer's  Universum,  p.  315. — 
26.  Pamphlets,  E.ssays,  &c.,  p.  315. 

IX.  RELIGIOUS  AND  LITERARY  INTELLIGENCE 315 

TitEOLooiCAL.— European 3ir> 

American 821 

Classical  and  Miscei.laxeous. — European 326 


CONTENTS. 


JULY     NUMBER. 

ARTICLE 

I.  THE  BACON  OF  THE  XIXETEENTH  CEN^TURY 


II.  STRONG'S  HARMONY  OF  THE  GOSPELS 354 

By  the  Eev.  G.  P..  Crooks,  A.  >L,  Philadelphia. 
A  New  Harmouy  and  Exposition  of  the  Gospels:  consisting  of  a 
Parallel  and  Combined  Arrangement,  on  a  New  Plan,  of  the  Narratives 
of  the  Four  Evangelists,  accordins:  to  the  Authorized  Translation  ;  and 
a  Continuous  Commentary,  with  Brief  Notes  subjoined.  With  a  Sup- 
plement, containing  esteuded  Chronological  and  Topographical  Dis- 
sertations, and  a  complete  Analytical  Index.    By  J.vmes  Strong,  A.M. 

m.  DANIEL  BOONE 364 

By  Professor  Wentworth,  C.irlisle. 
Life  of  Daniel  Boone,  the  Pioneer  of  Kentucky.    By  Johx  M.  Peck. 

IV.  SOCRATES • 373 

By  the  Kev.  T.  V.  Moore,  Pacbmond. 

1.  The  Works  of  Plato.  A  new  and  literal  version,  chiefly  from  the 
t^xt  of  Stallbaum.     Vols.  I-V. 

2.  The  Memorable  Things  of  Socrates.  Written  by  Xenophon,  in 
five  Looks.  Translated  into  English.  To  which  is  prefixed  the  life  of 
Xenophon.  Collected  from  several  Authors,  together  with  some  ac- 
count of  his  writings. 

3.  The  Life  of  Socrates.  By  M.  Cilvepen-tiee.  Translated  into 
English. 

4.  A  Life  of  Socrates.  By  Da.  G.  Wiggers.  Translated  from  the 
German,  with  Notes. 

5.  Thirlwall's  History  of  Greece.    Vol.  I. 

6.  History  of  Greece.    By  George  Grote,  Esq.    Vol.  VIU. 

V.  EXPOSITION  OF  L  COR.  iii,  1-17 394 

By  the  P.cv.  B.  B.  Hall,  Troy,  N.  Y. 

VL  THE    HEATHEN  AND  MEDLEVAL  CIVILIZATION  OF  IRE- 
LAND   ...    404 

By  J.  0.,  Dublin. 

VIL  THE  SIGNS  OF  THE  TIMES  .    .    ,' 426 

Vin.  FATHER  REEVES 446 

Father  Reeves,  the  Methodist  Class-Leader  :  a  Brief  Account  of  Mr. 
William  Reeves,  Thirty-four  Years  a  Class-Leader  in  the  Wesleyan 
Methodist  Society,  Lambeth.    By  Edw.4.rd  Cordeeot. 

IX.  MISCELLANIES 453 

1.  Jfeaniug  of  h-O.aiiiidvETai  in  Hebrews  ii,  IG 453 

2.  Was  not  John  the  liaptist  (and  not  Elijah)  with  our  Lord  on  the 

.  Mount  of  Transfiguration  ? 456 


CONTENTS. 


AtnctE 


TAOE 


X.  SHORT  REVIEWS  AND  NOTICES  OF  BOOKS 458 

).  Rome:  its  Edifices  and  its  People,  p.  458.— 2.  Mattison's  Hi?h- 
School  Astronomy,  p.  4t30. — 3.  Annual  of  Scientific  Discovery,  p.  46'j. — 
4.  Abb.-»tt's  History  of  Xero,  p.  4G0.— o.  Dickens's  Child's  History  of 
England,  p.4fl'». — 6.  Amanda  Weston's  Home  Scenes,  p.  460. — 7.  Cox's 
Interviews,  Memorable  and  Useful,  p.  461. — 8.  HoUiday's  Life  and 
Times  of  Rev.  Allen  Wilev,  p.  4GL — 9.  Bourbon  Prince  :  History  of  the 
Royal  Dauphin,  p.  4Gi.— 10.  Abbott's  Ellen  Liim,  p.  462.— 11.  Asrnes 
Strickland's  Memoirs  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  ^.402. — 12.  Matthews's  Let- 
ters to  School  Girls,  p.  4G2.— 1.3.  WarJIaw  s  Essay  on  Miracles,  p.  462. 
—14.  Tracy's  :Mother  and  her  Offspring-,  p.  463.-1.5.  Xev,--York  ;  a 
Historical  Sketch  of  the  ^Metropolitan  "  City  of  America,  p.  4'>3. — 
16.  Lowry's  Positive  Theology,  p.  464. — 17.  Rogers's  Reason  and  Faith, 
p.  464. — is.  Provincial  Letters,  p.  4tH. — 19.  Vail's  Ministerial  Educa- 
tion in  the  M.  E.  Church,  p.  461. — 20.  Chambers's  Life  and  Works  of 
Burns,  p.4G6. — 21.  Brodhead'sHistory  of  New- York, p. 466.-22.  Potts's 
Translation  of  Bungerer's  Preacher  and  the  King,  p.  46'). — 23.  Hud5oa'3 
Shakspeare,  p.  467. — 24.  Eliot's  Discourses  on  the  Cuity  of  God,  and 
Sears's  Regeneration,  p.  4G7. — 2.5.  Sleiden's  Poetry  of  the  Vegetable 
World,  p.  46?. — 26.  Lamartine's  Restoration  of  Monarchy  in  France, 
p.  46S.— 27.  Annotated  Paragraph  Bible,  p.  469.— 2S.  Brace's  Home- 
Life  in  Germany,  p.  4GU. — 29. "Goodrich's  "  Complete  Historical  Series," 
p.  4f.<j.— 30.  Jloliatt's  Life  of  Chalmers,  p.  469.— 31.  Ann  Eraser 
Tv tier's  Ixula,  p.  470.-32.  Abbott's  Marco  Paul  in  Boston,  n.  470.— 
S3.  Cannon's  Lectures  on  Pastoral  Theology,  p.  470.-34.  M'Clure's 
Translators  Revived,  p.  470. — 35.  Hart's  Epitome  of  Greek  and  Roman 


Mythology,  p.  471. — 36.-  Hodgson's  Human  Body  at  the  Resurrectio: 
p.  471. — 37.  Browne's  Vusef ;  or,  the  Journey  of  the  Fraugi,  p.  472.- 
38.  Three  Months  under  the  Snow.  p.  472.-39.  Coleridge's  Complete 
AVorks,  p.  472. — 4i).  Lord  Bacon's  Works,  (Bohn's  Scientific  Library,) 
p.  472.— 41.  Armiuius's  'Works,  p.  472. — 12.  Strong's  Manual  of  the 
Gospels,  p.  474.-43.  Lives  of  the  Brothers  Humboldt,  p.  475.-44.  Da- 
vidson's Treatise  on  Biblical  Criticism,  p.  475. — 45.  Catechism  of  the 
M.  E.  Church,  p.  476.-46.  Pamphlets,  ic,  p.  477. 

XI.  RELIGIOUS  AND  LITERARY  INTELLIGENCE   . 477 

Theologic.*.l  .*sd  Reugiocs. — European 477 

American 485 

CL-VSSICAI-  AST)  MlSCELLAKEOUS 486 


OCTOBER    NUMBER. 

L  THE  BACON  OF  THE  NINETEENTH  CENTURY 489 

[SECOXD   PAPEK.] 

IL  THE  GROUND  OF  MORAL  OBLIGATION 613 

By  the  Bev.  Israel  Chamberlayne,  Lyndonyille,  N.  Y. 

Ill  ON  THE  SECOND  EPISTLE  OF  ST.  PAUL  TO  TIMOTHY  .    .    534 
By  the  Kev.  Dr.  Bangs,  New- York. 

IV.  DAVIDSON'S  BIBLICAL  CRITICISM 549 

By  James  Strong,  Esq.,  Flushing,  L.  L 
A  Treatise  on  Biblical  Criticism,  exhibiting  a  Systematic  View  of 
that  Science.    By  Samuel  Datidson",  I).  D.,  of  the  University  of  Halle, 
*nd  LL.  D.    2  vols.,  Svo.    Vol.  I,  the  Old  Testament ;  Vol.  U,  the  New 
Testament. 


8  CONTENTS. 

RETICLE  FAOB 

V.  THE  ORIGIN  OF  EVIL  AND  THE  FALL 668 

Translated  by  the  Eev.  B.  II.  KadaL,  of  Baltimore. 
From  the  German  of  TirscK,  in  Theol.  Stud.  u.  Krit. 

VL  ANSELM,  OF  CANTERBURY 576 

Saint  Anselme  de  Cantorbery.  Tableau  de  la  Vie  Monastiquo,  et  de 
la  lutte  du  Fouvoir  Spiritual  avec  le  Pouvoir  Temporel  an  Onzieme 
Siecle.    Par  M.  Charles  de  REjrcsAT,  de  I'Academie  Franjais. 

YIL  SnSCELLANlES o92 

Letter  on  Rev.  B.  M.  Hall's  Exposition  of  1  Cor.  iii,  1-17. 

VIIL  SHORT  REVIEWS  AND  NOTICES  OF  BOOKS 595 

1.  Life  of  Alfred,  p.  595.-2.  Old  House  by  the  River,  p.  595.— 
3.  Soinerville's  Physical  Geography,  p.  595. — 1.  Father  Gavazzi's  Lec- 
tures, p.  595. — 5.  I'iife  of  J.  B'.  Finley,  p.  595.— 6.  Comiiit^'s  I'hysiolosrv, 
p.  596.-7.  Abclard   and   Heloise,  'p.  59G.— S.  Gerstiickcr's  "Travels, 

L596.— 9.  Pedestrian  in  France,  p.  597.-10.  Taylor's  English 
rtyrs,  p.  597.— 11.  Ranke's  Civil  Wars  in  France,  p.  597.— 12.  Har- 
Laugh's  lleavenly  Home.  p.  597. — 13.  Gervinus  s  Introduction, 
p.  59S.— 14.  Blackader's  English  Bible,  p.  598.-15.  Life  of  B.  B. 
Edwards,  p.  598.-10.  Asbury's  Journal,  p.  599. — 17.  D'Aubigne's 
Reformation,  p.  599. — 18.  Mever's  Universura,  p.  599. — 19.  Schuster's 
Drawing-book,  p.  GO").— 20.  lufe  of  Dr.  Oliu,  p.  COO.— 21.  Discourses 
from  the  Spirit-world,  p.  COL— 22.  Wythes  on  the  Pastoral  Office, 
p.  C02.— 23.  Boyhood  of  Great  :Men,  p.  60:3.— 2i.  Gorrie's  Episcopal 
Methodism,  p.  &J3.— 25.  Holmes's  Wesley  Offering,  p.  603. — 26.  Strick- 
land's Biblical  Literature,  p.  604. — 27.  Memoirs  of  a  Useful  Man, 
p.  61)5.-28.  Startling  Questions,  p.  605.-29.  Stuckley's  Gospel  Glass, 
p.  605.— 30.  The  Bum  Plague,  p.  005.-31.  Delolme's  Constitution  of 
England,  J).  COS.— :',2.  Diogenes  Laertius.  p.  COG. — 33.  Layard's  Second 
Expedition,  p.  &JG. — 31.  Layard,  abridged,  p.  COG.— oo.  Lamp  and 
Lantern,  p.  GJG. — 36.  Brown's  Sutferiugs  of  Messiah,  p.  GOG. — 37.  He th- 
erington's  Westminster  Assemblv,  p.  007. — 3S.  Water  from  the  Weil- 
Spring,  p.  607.— 39.  Faber's  Ditficulties  of  Infidelity,  p.  607.— 40.  Me- 
morial of  Greenough,  p.  607. — 41.  Coleridge's  "Works,  p.  60S. — 
42.  Miner's  Poultry  Book,  p.  603.— 43.  Summer'field,  p.  COS. — 44.  His- 
tory of  the  Mormons,  p.  608. — 45.  tCingslev's  Phaethou,  p.  608. — 
46.  The  Eight  Way.  by  J.  T.  Crane,  p.  612.-47.  Stirling's  Charles  V., 
p.  614. — 4S.  Jacobus  on  the  Gospels,  p.  G14. — 49.  Stroud's  Harmony  of 
the  Gospels,  p.  614 — 50.  Lives  of  the  Popes,  p.  614.— 51.  Lights  of  "the 
World,  p.  614. — 52.  Family  and  Social  Melodies,  p.  615.— 53.  Olds's 
Philosophy  of  Faith,  p.  615.-54.  Bledsoe's  Theodicy,  p.  617.— 
55.  Jacoby's  Handbuch  des  Methodismus,  p.  618. — 56.  Pamohlets,  <tc., 
p.  618. 


IX.  INTELLIGENCE 


619 


THEOLOGicit,  AXD  Reugious.— European 619 

Classical  axd  iliscELLAJfEous.— European 623 

American .      631 


THE 

METHODIST  QUAETEELY  EEYIEW. 

JANUARY,  1853. 


ART.  I.— BISHOP  HEDDI:N'G. 

Xlijah  ITeddixg  -vvas  bom  in  the  to-wn  of  Pine  Plains,  Dutchess 
County,  New -York,  June  7th,  17S0.  For  any  religious  influence  in 
his  ])arental  training  he  is  indebted  to  his  mother.  Though  not  at 
that  time  connected  with  any  Church,  she  Avas  a  religious  woman: 
and  from  her  he  received  the  elements  of  a  rehgious  education. 
These  elements  were  so  firmly  gi-afted  into  his  mind,  that  at  the  early 
age  0?  four  years  he  was  able  to  pray  with  a  tolerable  understanding 
of  the  nature  and  obligations  of  prayer.  The  habit  of  prayer  thus 
formed  in  early  childhood,  was  maintained  for  several  years,  and 
until,  through  the  influence  of  evil  associates,  he  had  in  a  measure 
thrown  off  the  restraints  of  religion. 

The  Dutchess  Circuit  first  appears  in  the  Minutes  for  ITSS,  with 
only  tc/i  members.  This  comprised  the  sum-total  of  Methodism 
north  of  the  Highlands  on  the  Hudson  Piiver  at  that  time.  Ben- 
jamin Abbot  was  then  just  commencing  his  wonderful  career. 
A  son  of  thunder,  he  ranged  through  the  country  and  assault- 
ed the  strongholds  of  wickedness,  as  though  he  had  received  a 
special  commission  from  Heaven  to  storm  the  very  citadel  of  hell 
itself.  In  17S9  he  was  stationed  upon  Dutchess  Circuit,  and  at  the 
close  of  the  year  1790  the  one  circuit  had  expanded  into /o?/r,  and 
the  ten  members  had  multiplied  into  nearly  one  thousand  and  four 
hundred !  There  had  been  sown  "  a  handful  of  corn  in  the  earth 
upon  the  top  of  the  mountains;  and  the  fniit  thereof  shook  like 
Irt-'banon."  Mr.  Hcdding,  who  was  then  a  lad  of  eight  or  nine  years. 
cvor  after  retained  a  vivid  recollection  of  some  of  those  early  scenes : 
aiid  hi.-5  mother  at  that  time  became  a  probationer  in  the  Church. 
N\  ho  fihall  say  but  that,  even  in  those  early  years,  the  seed  was  de- 
pvr^it.'d  ill  that  youthful  heart,  which  in  later  time  was  destined  to 
produce  so  rich  a  harvest? 

FuLHTH  Sluiks,  Vol.  Y.— 1 


10  Bishop  Hedding.  [January, 

In  1701  he  removed  -with  Lis  parents  to  the  State  of  Vermont. 
Here,  uhcn  about  eighteen  years  of  age,  he  -was  awakened  to  a  sense 
of  his  lost  condition  as  a  sinner.  One  da}^,  as  he  was  returning 
home  from  church  deeply  convinced  of  sin,  haviijg  to  pass  a  wood, 
he  entered  it,  kneeled  down  behind  a  large  tree,  and  prayed  to  God. 
"In  that  hour,"  said  he  but  a  short  time  before  he  died,  "in  thai 
hour  1  solemnly  made  a  dedication  of  myself  to  God.  I  laid  my 
all — soul,  body,  goods  and  all — for  time  and  for  eternity,  upon  the 
altar;  and  I  have  never,  never  taken  them  back."  He  did  not  for 
several  days  find  peace.  But  at  length  the  blessing  came,  clear  as 
the  sunlight;  the  transition  was  like  that  from  the  darkest  night  to 
the  brightest  day.  This  was  on  the  27th  of  December,  1798 ;  and 
on  that  very  day  he  offered  himself  and  was  received  as  a  proba- 
tioner in  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church. 

The  ne.xt  summer  he  was  licensed  to  e.xhort ;  and,  at  the  urgent 
solicitations  of  the  preachers,  he  consented  to  labour  for  a  time  on 
Essex  Circuit,  l3"ing  partly  in  Vermont  and  partly  in  Canada.  The 
eccentric  Lorenzo  Dow,  v-ho  had  been  stationed  on  that  circuit,  and 
had  been  travelling  and  preaching  with  unexampled  energy  and 
success,  had  suddenly  left  his  work  and  embarked  for  Ireland, 
under  the  impression  that  God  had  called  him  to  a  special  mission 
in  that  country.  It  was  to  supply  this  vacancy,  that  the  youth  of 
tut  nineteen  years  of  age,  and  but  a  few  months'  experience  in  relig- 
ion, was  called  out.  He  went,  however,  in  the  name  of  God;  and 
for  several  months  he  continued  to  travel  the  circuit,  almost  daily 
holding  public  meetings,  in  which  ho  exhorted  the  people,  without 
taking  a  text,  and  afterwards  met  the  members  in  class.  His  ^Yord  was 
in  demonstration  of  the  Spirit  and  with  power ;  revivals  broko  out,  the 
•work  of  God  moved  forward  in  every  direction,  "  and  much  people  was 
added  unto  the  Lord."  Jt  was  now  fully  evident  that  he  was  a  chosen 
vessel  unto  God,  to  bear  his  name  before  the  people  and  the  Church. 

In  the  spring  of  1800  he  was  licensed  to  preach,  and  during  the 
year  travelled  a  circuit  under  the  presiding  elder.  On  the  Kith  of 
June,  1801,  he  was  admitted  by  the  ISIew-York  Annual  Conference 
on  probation  in  the  travelling  connexion.  Of  iho-fifty-fivc,  mostly 
young  men,  who  that  year  entered  the  travelling  ministry,  but  tivo 
remain,  viz.:  Laban  Clark  and  Ebcnczer  Washburn — both  of  them 
retired  from  effective  service.  The  others,  or  most  of  them,  long 
since  ceased  from  their  labours.  Indeed,  it  is  a  striking  commen- 
tary upon  the  privations  and  labours  of  that  early  period,  that 
twenty-nine  of  the  fifty-five  who  entered  the  ministry  with  the  sub- 
ject of  this  sketch,  retired  from  it  within  a  period  often  years. 

The  circuits  were  large,  often  requiring  from  two  to  five  hundred 


1853.]  Bishop  Hedding.  11 

miles  to  complete  one  round,  and  this  round  was  to  be  completed 
in  from  two  to  six  weeks,  during  wliich  a  sermon  was  to  be  preached 
and  a  class  met  daily;  and  often  three  sermons  and  three  classes 
to  be  attended  to  on  the  Sabbath.  The  journeys,  too,  were  per- 
formed, not  upon  steamboats  and  railroads,  nor  yet  in  good  carriages 
ami  by  easy  stages  upon  turnpikes ;  but  on  horseback,  through 
rou'.lh  and  miry  ways,  and  through  wildernesses  where  no  road  as 
yet  had  been  cast  up.  Rivers  and  swamps  were  to  be  forded,  ^'or 
could  the  journey  be  delayed.  On,  on,  must  the  itinerant  press  his 
way,  through  the  drenching  rains  of  summer,  the  chilling  sleet  of 
spring  or  autumn,  and  the  driving  blasts  or  piercing  cold  of  winter; 
and  often  amidst  perils,  weariness,  hunger,  and  almost  nakedness, 
carrying  the  bread  of  life  to  the  lost  and  perishing.  And  then,  when 
the  day  of  toil  was  ended,  in  the  creviced  hut  of  the  frontier  settler, 
the  weary  itinerant,  among  those  of  kindred  hearts  and  sympathies, 
found  a  cordial  though  humble  place  of  repose.  The  subject  of  this 
sketch  informed  us  that  he  had  often  lodged  in  log-houses,  where  the 
.vtars  could  be  seen  through  the  roof  above  him,  and  that  again  and 
again,  when  he  awoke  in  the  morning,  he  had  found  the  bed  on  which 
iic  slept  covered  with  snow.  But  this  is  not  all :  the  people,  though 
willing,  were  poor,  and  the  support  was  often  inadequate  to  meet  the 
necessities  of  even  a  single  man ;  but  woe  to  the  man  and  the  family 
that  were  dependent  for  a  livelihood  upon  the  compensation  received 
for  such  lab.ours  as  these.  And  yet  these  Avcre  men — men  sensible 
to  suffering  and  want — men  of  tender  sympathies  for  wives  and  chil- 
dren !  And,  alas !  many  of  them  broke  down  in  the  work,  and  went 
early  to  their  reward;  others  were  compelled  to  retire  from  it;  but, 
here  and  there,  one  of  iron  constitution  and  of  aliiding  faith  toiled 
on.  till,  like  our  own  Hedding,  full  of  years  and  of  faith,  he  has  been 
galhered  to  those  who  had  gone  before.  Such  were  the  toils,  hard- 
ships, and  privations  endured  by  our  fathers  in  transforming  the 
waste  wilderness  into  a  delightful  vineyard,  and  making  it  as  the 
garden  of  God.  Their  work  was  nobly  done ;  their  memories  are 
blessed  in  all  the  Church. 

The  fu-st  appointment  of  Mr.  Hedding  was  to  the  Plattsburgh 
Circuit,  extending  from  Ticonderoga  along  the  shore  of  Lake  Cham- 
plain  northward  far  into  Canada,  and  from  the  shores  of  the  lake  t^^ 
the  wildernesses  and  mountains  of  the  west.  Here,  in  this  new  and 
«pai-so1y  settled  country,  he  endured  more  than  it  is  possible  for 
^«  to  describe,  of  the  toils  and  privations  of  the  early  itine- 
rant. Mis  second  appointment  was  to  the  hletcher  Circuit,  on 
too  inwt  side  of  the  lake.  This  circuit  then  included  all  that 
YK-'^xm  between  the  lake,  on  the  west,  and  the  Green  Mountains 


12  Bishop  Hedding.  [January, 

on  the  east;  and  extended  from  Onion  River  in  Vermont,  some 
twenty  or  thirty  miles  north  of  the  boundary  of  that  State  into 
Canada.  In  1S03  he  -was  ordained  deacon  by  Bishop  AVhatcoat,  and 
sent  to  the  Bridgevrater  Circuit,  in  jS'ew  Hampshire.  Here  a  vast 
field  opened  before  him.  He  preached  three  times  on  the  Sabbath, 
and  nearly  every  day  in  the  -^veek,  besides  travelling  on  horseback 
nearly  three  hundred  miles  every  month.  He  had  laboured  here 
but  a  short  time,  -when  his  over- tasked  system  gave  v\-ay,  and  he  was 
prostrated  by  a  severe  sickness  that  midermined  the  vigom-  of  his 
constitution,  and  well-nigh  carried  him  to  the  grave.  It  was  eight 
months  before  he  resumed  his  labours,  and  the  effects  of  that  sickness 
were  felt  to  the  day  of  his  death.  In  1804  he  was  appointed  to 
Hanover  Circuit,  in  Xew-IIampshire.  In  1S05  he  was  ordained 
elder  by  Bishop  Asbury,  and  stationed  on  the  Berry  Circuit,  Ver- 
mont; and  in  IbOG  on  the  Vershire  Circuit,  in  the  same  State.  In 
1807  and  ISOS  he  was  presiding  elder  on  IS'ew-Hampshire  District; 
and  in  1809  and  1810,  presiding  elder  on  Xew-London  District. 

Boweiful  and  extensive  revivals  followed  his  ministry  in  all  these 
places,  and  multitudes  were  turned  to  God.  He  encountered  much 
persecution;  the  most  scandalous  stories  were  set  afloat  about  him, 
and  men  often  clubbed  together  to  assault  him ;  but  God  was  with 
him,  and  even  his  foes  could  not  resist  the  vnsdom  and  poiver  tcith 
ichich  he  spake.  At  one  time  a  large  com.pany  of  men  came  to  his 
meeting  armed  with  clubs,  intending  to  assault  him.  But  the  power 
of  God  came  dovni  upon  the  asseml^ly.  The  men  were  frightened, 
and  all  of  them,  except  one,  fled  from  the  house:  he  fell  prostrate  on 
the  floor,  and  cried  to  God  for  mercy ;  and  before  the  meeting  closed 
he  was  converted.  He  then  drew  out  his  club  from  beneath  his 
overcoat,  and  confessed  his  guilt  before  God  and  man. 

Such  were  the  labours  and  trials  in  which  the  first  ten  years  of 
his  ministry  were  passed.  The  energy  of  his  character  at  this  period 
is  strikingly  illustrated  by  a  single  fact.  While  so  afllicted  with  the 
rheumatic  afiectiou,  that  had  first  seized  him  in  New-Hampshire, 
that  he  could  neither  stand  nor  kneel,  ho  rode  all  round  his  district, 
requiring  a  travel  of  over  five  hundi'ed  miles,  and  attended  to  all  his 
duties  in  a  sitting  posture. 

This  was  also  a  time  of  privation,  as  well  as  of  labour  and  suffer- 
ing. A  short  time  before  he  died,  referring  to  this  period,  he  said: 
"During  that  time  I  was  a  single  man,  and  travelled,  on  an  average, 
three  thousand  miles  a  year,  or  thirty  thousand  in  the  ten  years, 
and  preached  nearly  every  day  in  the  year.  All  the  pay  I  received 
for  those  ten  years  was  ^450,  or  an  average  of  ^lo  a  year.  One 
year  I  received  on  my  circuit,  exclusive  of  travelling  expenses, 


1853.3  Bishop  Iledding.  13 

$3  25 :  this  was  made  up  to  $-21  at  conference.  My  pantaloons 
vcre  often  patched  upon  the  knees,  and  the  sisters  often  showed 
their  kindness  by  turning  an  old  coat  for  we."  By  prreat  economy, 
and  by  liberal  donations,  though  his  salary,  M'hile  he  was  a 
lisiiop.  including  house-rent,  fuel,  table-expenses,  and  quarterao-e. 
ranged  only  from  C;500  to  $900,  he  accumulated  a  large  property; 
but,  with  the  exception  of  a  few  small  bequests  to  his  relatives, 
the  whole  of  it  is  so  devised  that  immediately  or  ultimately  it  ^oes  to 
promote  the  cause  of  Christ. 

AVe  pause  a  moment :  a  phenomenon  rises  before  us  demanding 
solution.  The  principles  and  motives  of  human  action,  for  the  mosl 
part,  lie  upon  the  surface,  and  may  be  known.  The  warrior,  dyed 
vith  the  blood  of  a  hundred  battles,  goes  forth  at  the  summons  of 
glory,  or  at  his  country's  call.  The  stern  Puritan  forsakes  the 
home  of  his  fathers,  and  turns  the  prow  of  his  bark  towards  the 
mighty  sea,  but  we  can  guage  the. magnitude  of  his  mission;  he 
goes  to  sow  the  seeds  of  civil  liberty  upon  the  virgin  soil  of  a  new 
world ;  he  goes  to  build  cities,  to  found  nations,  to  people  a  conti- 
nent, and  to  open  up  a  highway  to  all  the  earth.  The  orator, 
in  his^  divine  eloquence,  rushes  with  the  impetuosity  of  a  torrent' 
swccpmg  along  with  him  the  convictions  and  sympathies  of  men  • 
but  the  ground  of  action  no  one  can  mistake:  the  interests  of 
his  country  or  of  humanity  are  in  peril,  and  he  calls  to  the  rescue. 
The  man  devoted  to  science,  toils  with  unceasing  effort,  his  very 
frame  shattered  and  shaken  with  the  intensity °of  his' thought; 
and  we  know  that  the  love  of  science  or  of  fame"  impels  him  to°ac- 
tion.  even  while  they  are  consuming  all  that  is  phvsical  and  mortal 
in  his  nature.  The  author  delves  into  the  deep,  dark  mines 
of  thought:  it  is  for  him  to  speak  to  coming  a^^es  •  hi^  bu«y 
tram  is  shaping  thoughts  that  shall  live  forever:  preparing  utter- 
ances that  shall  "fall  like  fii-e  upon  the  hearts  of  men"  iu^omin- 
generations,  and  kindle  in  them  new  life  and  enerav— utterance? 
that,  by  their  sway  over  the  realms  of  thought  and^emotion,  shall 
cxcrci.se  a  vast  and  undying  influence  over  the  affairs  of  men  and  the 
Mcstinies  of  the  world. 

But  what  shall  we  say  of  this  forlorn  hope?  this  band  of  heroes 
^ua  a  dev(^tion  more  pure  and  ceaseless  than  that  of  the  patriot— 

K^h  an  eloquence  combining  the  elements  of  moral  gi'eatness  and 
ntir'''?!"''!,''''^^  ""  hardihood  that  shrinks  from  no  labour  and  is 
rt.«?ni  V  ^  danger-toiling  without  hope  or  prospect  of  earthly 

tr.-*d„~?r  ''"'"^^^'^'  ^'*™^^^'"^'  ^^^'°^^'  '^'''^-  ^°d  <^ven  life  itsclf- 
UUu.u'^  /  ''"  ■^'^  ^^"^^^^  ^^^^  t^i^  wildernesses,  and  tmversing 
iJ^^d...commcuts.  and  oceans!     Who  are  they?     By  whom  a r? 


14  Bishop  Hedding.  [January, 

they  sent  forth?  and  what  is  the  object  of  their  toil?  Let  the 
Churches  that  have  been  planted  all  over  the  land,  the  missionaries 
that  have  been  sent  out  to  other  lands ;  let  the  incessantly  increas- 
ing tide  of  influence  that  is  rolling  onward  the  kingdom  of  Clirist  to 
its  complete  and  final  triumph;  and,  above  all,  let  the  millions  that 
have  been  brought  to  God,  and  are  now  decked  with  light  and  glory 
.  around  the  eternal  throne ;  let  all  these  respond,  and  tell  who  are 
these  wanderers,  and  for  what  they  toil ! 

Eoll  back  the  tide  of  time  through  eighteen  centuries.  Behold  a 
little  band  traversing  the  idolatrous,  barbarous  regions  of  Asia  Minor. 
Their  appearance  marks  them  as  of  the  land  of  Israel.  They  jour- 
ney from  city  to  city,  and  from  province  to  province.  They  are 
inured  to  hardships  and  dangers,  exposed  to  perils  in  the  deep  and 
upon  tiie  land.  ]Mcn  despise  and  ridicule  them ;  their  own  country- 
men reject  their  message,  and  they  are  compelled  to  turn  to  the 
Gentiles.  They  are  exposed  to  buffeting  and  stripes,  imprison- 
ments and  death;  but  7io}ic  of  these  things  move  them.  Go  and 
ask  them  why  the}-  toil,  and  suffer,  and  die?  With  united  voice  they 
respond :  ''  The  love  of  Christ  coustraineth  us ;  neither  count  we  our 
lives  dear  unto  ourselves,  so  that  we  might  finish  our  coui'se  with 
joy,  and  the  ministry  which  we  have  received  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  to 
testify  the  gospel  of  the  grace  of  God."  The  same  spirit  that 
inspired  the  missionaries  of  the  primeval  Church,  though  smothered 
for  ages,  burst  forth  again  in  all  its  primitive  power  in  the  early 
apostles  of  Methodism.  The  theatre  of  action  was  new,  the  workmen 
were  changed,  but  the  work  was  one. 

But,  after  all,  was  it  not  the  fire  of  youthful  enthusiasm,  that  would 
be  rectified  by  age  and  e.xperlence?  Shall  we  ask,  then,  how  these 
labours,  privations,  and  sufferings  were  regarded,  when  the  time  of  la- 
bour was  over,  and  life  was  hasting  to  its  close?  hi  the  dismal  cell 
of  a  Roman  prison,  behold  a  prisoner;  the  walls  of  his  narrow  room, 
like  a  wall  of  granite,  are  enclosed  about  him ;  his  locks  are  white ; 
he  is  shaken  with  age ;  he  sits  down  to  write ;  with  difiScidty  he  traces 
his  message  upon  the  manuscript  before  him.  It  is  a  final  charge  to 
his  sou  in  the  gospel.  His  own  life  has  been  spent  in  toil  and  suffer- 
ing, and  now  he  is  in  poverty  and  imprisonment— an  object  of  charity 
to  the  Church,  and  soon  to  die  like  a  common  felon.  What  is  the 
message  he  writes?  Docs  he  charge  his  son  to  seek  exemp- 
tion from  toil  and  suffering,  to  avoid  exposure  to  danger  and  perse- 
cution, to  lay  up  in  store  for  the  future?  ISlay,  he  says:  "Endure 
afflictions,  do  the  work  of  an  evangelist,  make  full  proof  of  thy  min- 
istry."' And  Lhen,  as  the  great  apostle  looks  back  upon  the  past, 
ho  adds:  "  I  am  now  ready  to  be  offered:  the  time  of  my  departure 


1S53.]  Bishop  Hedding.  15 

is  at  band  ;  I  have  fought  a  good  fight ;  I  have  finished  my  course  ; 
1  have  kept  the  fii.ith."  Then,  ghancing  at  the  future,  he  exclaims 
in  triumph :  "  Henceforth  there  is  laid  up  for  me  a  crown  of  right- 
eousness, which  the  Lord,  the  righteous  judge,  shall  give  me  at 
that  day." 

And  so,  our  venerable  Hedding  standing  upon  the  brink  of  tlie 
p-:\vc,  and  looking  back  over  the  lapse  of  half  a  century,  said :  "  i 
had  laboured  fifty  years  and  one  month  in  the  miTiistry,  before  my' 
con.stitution  gave  way.  I  have  suffered  a  great  deal ;  have  been  per- 
secuted; the  most  abusive  and  slanderous  stories  have  been  circula- 
ted against  me ;  men  have  come  to  my  meetings  armed  v>rith  clubs, 
intending  to  assault  me ;  the  Methodists  were  poor  and  the  fare  hard 
— the  rides  long  and  tedious;  but  if  I  had  fifty  lives,  and  cacii 
nflurded  me  an  opportunity  of  fifty  3'ears'  labour,  I  would  cheerfully 
cmi>loy  them  all  in  the  same  blessed  cause ;  and,  if  need  be,  would 
suffer  the  same  privations!"' 

Such  were  the  feelings  and  views  with  which  ho  entered  upon  the 
gi-oat  work  of  his  life ;  and  such  were  the  feelings  with  which  he 
looked  back  upon  the  work  from  that  sublime  altitude  from  which 
he  so  lately  ascended  to  his  God. 

During  the  next  fourteen  years,  succeeding  to  ISIO,  he  Avas  sta- 
tioned twice  in  Boston,  tv.-ice  in  Lynn,  once  in  ^Nantucket,  once  in 
Isew-London,  once  in  Portland,  Elaine,  and  for  three  years  was 
presiding  elder  on  Boston  District.  At  the  General  Conference  of 
\>^-\,  almost  in  spite  of  himself,  he  was  elected  a  Bishop  of  the 
Methodist  Episcopal  Church.  After  his  election,  he  was  so  over- 
whelmed with  a  sense  of  the  great  responsibilities  of  the  office,  and 
his  unfitness  for  it,  that  he  expressed  his  doubts  to  the  Conference 
whether  he  could  consent  to  ordination.  But  after  he  had  retired  to 
pray  and  deliberate  upon  the  subject,  that  body  passed  a  resolution 
earnestly  requesting  him  "to  submit  himself  to  the  call  of  Provi- 
dence and  of  the  Church,  and  to  receive  ordination  to  the  oflico  of  a 
biihop."  Thus  coiistrained,  he  accepted  the  office,  though  with 
great  reluctance  and  much  misgiving.  On  the  2Sth  of  ^lay,  IS 24. 
lie,  in  company  with  the  Rev.  Joshua  Soule,  now  senior  bishop  of  the 
Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  South,  was  solemnly  inducted,  by  th<- 
imposition  of  hands,  into  the  office  of  Bishop  in  the  Methodist  Epis- 
copal Church. 

JTom  this  time  forward.  Bishop  Hedding  occupied  a  promi- 
i.fiit  ].o.sition  in  the  councils  of  the  Church.  He  entered  at  once 
«pvu  his  great  and  responsible  work — presiding  over  annual  con- 
fi'i\nc.\s— travelling  at  large,  visiting  the  Churches,  and  also  the  mis- 
sion staiion.s  titnong  thn  Indians  and  in  the  waste  places  and  frontier 


16  Bishop  Hedding.  [January, 

settlements  of  our  rapidly  increasing  and  spreading  population — 
evcrjffhere  greeted  by  the  people,  and  labouring  to  the  edification  of 
the  Chiurches  and  the  ministry. 

During  the  first  eight  3-ears  of  his  episcopal  service  he  presided, 
in  Avhole  or  in  part,  over  fiftj^-two  conferences,  traversed  nearly  our 
whole  country  from  Maine  in  the  East  to  Indiana  in  the  West,  and 
from  Canada  in  the  ISiorth  to  Georgia  in  the  South.  In  this  work 
he  peiformed  severe  labour  and  endui-ed  many  hardships ;  but  his 
success  was  abundant,  and  he  had  been  steadily  rising  in  the  esteem 
and  confidence  of  the  whole  Church.  Yet  at  the  General  Confer- 
ence of  1S32,  the  same  distrust  of  himself  and  the  same  humble 
\aews  of  his  qualifications  for  the  office  of  a  bishop,  that  had  in- 
clined him  not  to  accept  the  oflice  at  first,  now  made  him  doubt 
whether  he  ought  to  continue  any  longer  in  it ;  and  indeed  he  "  felt 
a  strong  desire  to  be  released  from  its  burdens."  He  did  not.  how- 
ever, feel  willing  to  take  so  important  a. step  without  first  consultmg 
his  brethren  of  the  New-York  and  New-England  Conferences. 
The  delegates  from  these  conferences,  having  consulted  upon  the 
matter,  expressed  it  as  their  "  unanimous  judgment"  that  he  "ought 
wholly  to  relinquish  the  idea  of  ever  resigning  the  episcopal  ofiice,  or 
of  discontinuing  the  exercise  of  it  at  any  time,  unless  under  some 
imperious  dispensation  of  Providence  compelling  him  to  do  so." 
Under  the  constraining  influence  of  this  advice,  he  yielded  to  the 
convictions  of  his  brethren,  and  continued  with  unabated  zeal  and 
fidelity  to  exercise  the  episcopal  functions  till  disabled  by  the  fail- 
ure of  his  health. 

Bishop  Hedding  brought  to  the  episcopal  ofiice  a  sound  and  deep 
piety,  whose  ardour  had  not  been  abated  thi-ough  a  period  of  nearly 
twenty-six  years — most  of  which  had  been  spent  in  laborious  service, 
and  in  the  midst  of  many  trials  and  privations  in  the  cause  of  Christ. 
His  mind,  naturally  clear  and  discriminating,  had  been  well  matured 
by  reading  and  study,  by  intercourse  with  men,  and  by  a  large  and 
well-improved  experience.  He  was  possessed  of  great  simplicity 
and  sincerity  of  manner — a  peculiar  and  confiding  openness  in  his 
intercourse  with  his  brethren,  that  at  once  won  their  confidence  and 
affections.  At  the  same  time,  his  natural  dignity  and  great  discre- 
tion made  him  an  objeet  of  reverence  as  well  as  of  affection.  Also 
his  great  shrewdness,  and  his  almost  instinctive  insight  into  the  char- 
acter of  men,  guarded  him  from  becoming  the  dupe  of  the  crafty 
and  desigi:iing.  His  heart  was  as  true  as  it  was  large  in  its  sympa- 
thies. His  brethren  never  in  vain  sought  his  counsel  or  his  sympa- 
thy ;  his  heart  was  with  them  and  with  his  God.  It  was  evident 
that  he  had  one  object  in  view — the  salvation  of  men  and  the  glory 


1853.]  Bishop  Hedding.  17 

of  God.  In  the  exercise  of  tlie  episcopal  functions,  he  developed 
those  rare  qualifications  that  have  distinguished  him  as  a  presiding 
oiSccr,  and  especially  as  an  expounder  of  ecclesiastical  la-w.  The 
soundness  of  his  \'iews  upon  the  doctrines  and  discipline  of  the 
Church,  ■vvas  so  fully  and  so  universally  conceded,  that  in  the  end 
he  became  almost  an  oracle  in  these  respects ;  and  his  opinions  are 
regarded  with  profound  veneration. 

As  a  theologian  and  divine,  his  views  were  comprehensive,  logi- 
cal, and  well  matured.  Not  only  had  they  been  elaborated  with 
great  care  but  the  analysis  was  very  distinct ;  and  the  successive 
steps  were  not  only  clearly  defined  in  the  original  analysis,  but 
distinct  even  in  the  minutias  of  their  detail.  His  discourses 
were  after  the  same  pattern — an  example  of  neatness,  order,  perspi- 
cuity, and  completeness.  There  was  no  effort  at  any  unnecessary 
verbal  criticism,  but  when  called  for  by  the  subject  it  was  not  want- 
ing ;  there  was  no  effort  at  logical  skill  or  acuteness,  but  when  clear 
and  delicate  discrimination  was  required,  no  man  could  execute  it 
with  greater  fidelity  and  success.  He  would  not  be  regarded  as  a 
popular  preacher.  The  ability  and  skill  to  charm  the  multitude 
with  the  ilowers  of  fancy,  with  the  figm-es  of  rhetoric,  with  beautiful 
quotations,  with  flippant  or  dramatic  speech,  were  evidently  neither 
coveted  nor  cultivated  by  him.  He  was  a  plain  preacher  of  the 
gospel  of  Christ. 

His  early  advantages  were  limited ;  but  by  the  most  laborious  and 
pci->^evcring  study,  he  accumulated  a  vast  fund  of  general  as  well  as 
special  knowledge.  He  was  a  great  reader  of  books  ;  but  he  read 
men  and  nature  as  well  as  books.  With  the  utmost  care,  he  im- 
prove(l  his  taste  and  style,  as  well  as  his  critical  powers.  To  cor- 
rect his  early  provincial  and  defective  pronunciation,  he  carefully 
rcatl  the  dictionary  through,  word  by  word,  comparing  the  authentic 
pronunciation  of  each  with  that  to  which  he  was  habituated,  and 
thus  coiTCcting  himself  He  had  a  most  tenacious  memory.  His 
mind  was  richly  stored  with  incident  and  anecdote,  as  well  as  with  all 
kmds  of  the  most  valuable  knowledge  collected  from  books,  from  ob- 
servation, and  from  experience.  His  conversational  powers  were 
of  a  high  order — the  events  of  the  past  seemed  to  start  up  from 
their  lurking  places,  and  come  forth  with  all  the  freshness  and  life 
of  recent  occun-ences.  There  was  often  with  him  a  genial  spright- 
jit'css,  humour  and  wit,  and  a  keen  sense  of  the  ludicrous,  that  made 
hnu  a  most  companionable  friend.  Yet  his  cheerfulness  never  de- 
srcnd.'d  below  the  purity  of  the  Christian  character,  or  the  dignity 
of  !i  Christian  rnan. 

He  was  the  friend  of  children,  and  children  loved  him.     He  was 


18  Bishop  Heading .  [January, 

true  in  his  sympathies,  generous  and  abiding  in  his  friendships. 
AVith  the  fiirthcsfc  possible  remove  from  courtly  ostentation  or  empty 
etiquette,  he  -.vas  punctilious  in  the  observance  of  true  Christian 
courtesy  and  politeness.  While  his  piety  was  of  a  clear,  solid, 
consistent  cast — deeply  based  upon  religious  principle — it  was 
also  at  the  larthest  remove  from  asceticism,  or  that  repulsive 
austerity  that  so  often  makes  religion  itself  seem  uuamiable.  In 
him  trilling  levity  found  no  place;  but  cheerfulness — the  genial 
sunshine  of  the  heart  —  diffused  its  loveliness  all  around  him.. 
His,  too,  v-as  a  most  liberal  and  catholic  spirit.  He  had  toiled 
long  and  hard  to  build  up  the  Church  of  his  early  choice  ;  and  his 
affections -were  deeply  wedded  to  that  Church;  but  they  were  not 
exclusive.  He  felt  a  kindred  sympath}^  for  Christians  of  every 
name,  and  felt  too  that  he  was  with  them  a  common  partner  in  the 
kingdom  and  patience  of  Christ  Jesus.  His  nature  Avas  too  noble, 
his  heart  too  large,  and  his  views  too  broad  and  enlightened,  to  ad- 
mit of  his  being  cut  off  from  sympathy  with  the  common  brother- 
hood of  the  Christian  faith.  Yet  he  felt  that  God  had  appointed 
him  to  his  sphere  of  labour,  and  it  was  his  highest  joy  to  pursue  it. 
The  life  and  labours  of  Bishop  Hedding  extended  through  an -im- 
portant epoch  in  the  history  of  ]Methodism  in  this  country.  When 
he  first  entered  the  ministry,  the  work,  then  extending  over  the 
whole  United  States  and  Canada,  comprised  but  eight  annual  con- 
ferences, three  hundred  and  seven  preachers,  nnd  seventy-two  thou- 
sand eight  hundred  and  seventy-four  members.  iS^ow  we  have  on 
the  same  territory : — 

ConaTences  Tr.  preadur.s.  Local  pr's.  Members. 

In  the  :M.  E.  Cliuvdi, 31             4,450  5,700  721,804 

In  tie  M.  E.  Churob,  South, 20             1,700  3,955  ol4,C01 

In  Canada, (including  N.B.&X.S.)     3                IIG  198  19,013 


Making  a  grand  total  of 54  6,2C6  9,853         1,255,418 

A  man  who  had  participated  in  labours,  and  witnessed  results  like 
these,  might  well  feel  that  ho  had  not  lived  in  vain. 

]]ut  this  was  not  all.  AVithin  the  period  of  his  labours,  the  char- 
acter and  genius  of  Methodism  have  been  largely  developed ;  the  ca- 
pabilities of  our  general  Church  organization  have  been  closely  tested; 
our  vast  educational  systems  operating  upon  the  public  mind  through 
the  press,  the  Sunday  school,  the  seminary,  and  the  college — have 
all  received  character  and  direction,  if  not  their  very  existence. 
The  Ciim-cli  has  been  increasing  in  resources  and  intelligence, 
and   a   hidier  tone  of  educational   influence   has   been   brou!^ht 


1S53.]  Bishop  Hedding.  19 

to  beav  upon  the  ministry.  In  all  this  substantial  progress  of  the 
Church,  Bishop  Ilcdding  had  a  deep  sympathy  and  contributed  his 
full  uieasurc  of  influence. 

Durinii;  tlie  autumn  of  1832,  he  Avas  confined  by  severe  bodily  afflic- 
tion. Tiie  record  of  his  feelings  and  vieivs  at  this  period  possesses 
a  peculiar  interest.  "1  have  been  led,"'  says  he,  "to  many  serious 
!;rid  solemn  reflections — apprehending  that  probabl}'  my  public  la- 
bours, if  not  my  life,  may  be  nearly  at  an  end.  But,  I  thank  my 
God,  tliat  through  the  merit  of  my  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ, 
1  am  supported  with  a  glorious  hope  of  rest  in  heaven !  I  have  been 
comforted  also  with  the  reflection,  that  my  life  has  been  spent,  and 
ciy  body  worn  out,  in  endeavouring  sincerely,  though  impcrfecth',  to 
promote  the  cause  of  Christ.  And  after  thirty-two  years  employ- 
ment in  preaching  the  doctrines  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church, 
J  am  confirmed  in  the  belief  that  they  are  the  doctrines  of  Christ. 
And  after  seeing,  for  that  length  of  time,  tlie  effects  of  our  plan  of 
spreading  the  gospel,  and  governing  the  flock  committed  to  our  care, 
tind  bearing  my  full  share  of  the  burdens  and  privations  con- 
nected with  this  plan,  I  am  satisfied  it  is  the  best  I  know  of  in  this 
"world  for  the  benefit  of  the  souls  of  men.  If  I  could  have  another 
life,  I  would  cheerfully  spend  it  in  this  blessed  cause." 

From  this  sickness,  however,  he  recovered,  and  continued  with  un- 
abated ardour  to  perform  the  various  duties  of  the  episcopal  oflico 
nearly  twenty  years  longer.  From  the  year  1S44,  age  and  increas- 
ing infirmities  compelled  him  to  seek  relief  from  the  heavy  burden 
of  labour  he  had  previously  performed,  and  his  visits  to  the  annual 
conferences  became  less  frequent.  Yet  his  labours  and  responsibil- 
ities were  still  very  great.  lie  was  almost  incessantly  sought  unto 
by  munsters  in  almost  every  part  of  our  connexion  for  counsel  and 
assistance,  and  for  information  upon  points  of  ecclesiastical  law  and 
in  the  administration  of  discipline. 

In  the  spring  of  1S50,  he  presided  at  the  New- Jersey,  Xew-York, 
and  New-York  East  Annual  Conferences.  These  were  his  last 
episcopal  services  as  the  presiding  officer  of  a  conference.  But  they 
Avere  jieiformed  v.-ith  the  same  skilh  ability,  and  laborious  diligence 
tliat  had  characterized  him  in  former  years.  He  seemed,  indeed,  so 
fiir  as  the  spirit  of  his  work  vras  concerned,  like  Moses  of  old — 
*■  His  eye  was  not  dim,  nor  his  natural  force  abated."  These  labours 
b.;ng  cridcd,  he  returned  to  Poughkcepsie,  and  passed  the  remain- 
••'■r  of  the  season  in  his  quiet  retreat— constantly  engaged,  howo%cr, 
Jii  t'>!id!ietlng  his  episcopal  correspondence. 

I  ii;s  brin-s  us  down  to  the  closing  scenes  in  the  life  of  this  omi- 
Kvut  iiiun  of  God. 


20  Bishop  Hedding.  [January, 

The  first  attack  of  acute  disease  -was  experienced  on  the  28th  day 
of  December,  1S50.  The  attack  Avas  as  sudden  as  it  was  fearful. 
He  had  been  taking  his  accustomed  walk,  though  the  day  was  se- 
verely cold,  and  was  returning  home,  when  he  was  suddenly  seized 
with  difficulty  of  breathing.  The  difficulty  was  so  great  that  he 
seemed  nearly  suffocated,  and  his  strength  entirely  exhausted.  With 
difficulty  he  reached  the  parsonage  of  the  Methodist  church,  and 
was  barely  able  to  say :  "  Carry  me  home — I  am  suffocating."  He 
was  immediately  conveyed  home,  apparently  in  a  dying  state.  Phy- 
sicians were  soon  in  attendance,  but  it  was  more  than  an  hour  be- 
fore the  severity  of  his  suffering  abated.  About  a  week  after  this, 
he  had  a  second  attack  of  still  greater  violence  than  the  first ;  and 
for  more  than  iwa  houi'S  of  intense  and  unremitted  suffering,  it 
seemed  as  though  nature  was  sinking  in  its  last  conflict.  These  at- 
tacks from  which  he  only  partially  recovered,  were  succeeded  by 
others  of  less  violence  and  shorter  continuance.  The  complication 
of  diseases  under  which  he  had  laboured  for  many  years,  and  also  the 
growing  infirmities  of  age,  rendered  his  recovery  hopeless.  It  was 
painfully  evident  that  his  system  had  received  a  shock  from  which 
it  could  not  recover.  Yet,  through  the  skill  and  care  of  his  medi- 
cal adviser,  he  was  made  comfortable ;  and  it  was  hoped  that  with 
the  return  of  spring,  his  health  might  be  still  further  improved,  and 
tliat  he  might  be  relieved,  at  least  to  some  extent,  from  the  great 
weakness  and  exhaustion  that  had  succeeded  his  violent  attacks. 
But  these  hopes  were  disappointed.  Summer  brought  but  little  relief. 
Yet,  as  he  seemed  to  revive  somewhat  in  the  early  part  of  the  win- 
ter, his  friends  began  to  hope  that  his  life  might  be  spared,  and  his 
health  permit  him  once  more  to  mingle,  as  the  patriarch  of  the 
Chiu'ch,  in  her  councils  at  the  ensuing  General  Conference;  or  at 
least,  that  he  would  be  able  to  make  his  appearance  in  that  body, 
and  bestow  upon  it  his  final  counsel  and  dying  blessing.  In  the 
latter  part  of  the  succeeding  winter,  however,  he  suffered  successive 
attacks,  which  completely  blasted  that  hope,  and  made  it  apparent 
that  "  the  time  of  liis  departure  was  at  hand." 

It  will  be  well  to  pause  in  the  cun-ent  of  our  narrative,  and  notice 
the  state  of  his  mind  in  the  midst  of  these  sudden,  unexpected,  and 
terrible  attacks.  In  the  afternoon  of  the  first  attack,  after  the  sever- 
ity of  his  distress  had  subsided  so  that  he  could  speak,  he  said  to 
the  Rev.  Mr.  Vincent:  "I  expected  to  die  this  afternoon.  I  fully 
believed  the  hour  of  my  departure  had  come ;  but,  0,  how  mercifully 
I  was  sustained.  I  had  no  fear  of  death  or  eternity.  I  felt  that 
through  the  merits  of  Jesus,  my  Saviour,  alone,  it  would  be  well  with 
me ;  and  knew  that  if  my  work  was  done,  and  God  ordered  my  dis- 


1853.]  Bishop  Hedding.  21 

cliarge,  it  was  right,  all  right."  After  his  second  attack,  he  said : 
"  In  all  tliis  the  enemy  was  not  permitted  to  come  nigh  me."  And 
subsequently,  speaking  of  these  attacks,  and  the  development  of 
wlmt  he  believed  would  be  a  fatal  disease,  he  said  that  God  had  so 
inorcifully  dealt  with  him,  that  for  three  months  after  his  severe 
uttack  he  had  not  suffered  a  single  temptation  from  Satan,  but  had 
enjoyed  wonderful  grace  and  support.  At  the  end  of  this  period, 
Sutan  attacked  him  violently,  and  tempted  him  to  disbelieve  God's 
word.  It  was  a  terrible  conflict.  Objections  more  subtle  than  any 
he  had  read  or  heard  from  infidels,  w"ere  thrust  sorely  upon  him. 
But  he  was  enabled  to  answer  them  all,  and  came  out  of  the  conflict 
with  a  faith  radiant  with  heaven's  own  glory,  to  be  dimmed  and  ob- 
scured no  more.  "  I  have  conquered,''  he  exclaimed,  '•'  and  believe 
1  shall  ovefcome  at  last  through  the  mercy  of  God  and  the  merit  of 
Jesus  Christ  my  Saviour,  my  only  hope." 

From  the  time  of  his  first  attack,  his  decline  was  gradual,  some- 
times relieved  by  favourable  indications,  and  at  other  times  accel- 
erated by  sudden  and  alarming  steps.  His  intellectual  powers 
remained  vigorous :  his  memory,  perception,  and  jud'gmeut  contin- 
ued, with  but  fev/  intermissions,  clear  and  distinct  to  the  last.  In 
the  midst  of  intense  and  protracted  bodily  suffering,  he  retained  that 
calmness  and  serenity  of  spirit,  and  that  supreme  confidence  of  faith, 
so  eminently  characteristic  of  the  mature  Christian.  His  conversa- 
tions during  the  last  months  and  weeks  of  his  life,  were  heavenly 
and  edifying  in  a  high  degree.  In  intercourse  with  his  Christian 
brclhren,  he  often  gave  full  vent  to  his  feelings  in  the  most  graphic 
and  touching  expressions.  At  one  time  he  broke  out  in  the  exclama- 
tion :  "  0  what  a  wonder  it  is  that  such  a  poor,  worthless,  hell- 
tlcserving  wretch  as  I  am,  should  ever  be  saved !  What  a  mercy ! 
what  wondrous  love !  It  is  all  of  Christ.  What  could  we  do,  or 
^hat  could  we  hope  for  without  him?  How  could  we  preach,  how 
Could  we  pray,  how  could  we  live,  or  how  could  we  die,  without  the 
Saviour  V"  The  record  conveys  but  a  feeble  impression  of  the  force 
■^vitli  which  those  words  were  uttered.  This  could  not  be  realized 
"n'uhout  the  presence,  the  appearance,  the  heavenly  countenance,  the 
dt^'|>  pathos,  the  quivering  voice,  and  the  holy  energy  of  the  venera- 
l*lo  man  now  luimbcred  with  the  dead. 

-About  the  same  time,  he  said  one  morning  to  the  Rev.  Mr.  Ferris : 

.i;ive  been  singhig.     In  my  earlier  days  I  was  quite  a  singer; 

anl  1  have  been  singing  one  of  our  excellent  hymns,  (one  that  is  all 

P>"ry.)  and  vhilc  singing  1  received  a  wonderful  blessing.      The 

hyuiSi  H  this  :— 

"  'He  dies,  the  friend  of  sinners  dies.' " 


22  Bishop  Redding.  [January, 

He  continnecl  repeating  the  hymn  till  lie  came  to  the  third  verse,  when, 
catching  the  inspiration  of  the  mighty  theme,  ho  commenced  singing 
"vvith  a  feeble  voice,  rendered  more  indistinct  by  his  deep  emotion  : — 

"  '  Creak  oflF  your  teai-s.  ye  saints,  and  toll 

How  high  your  p'cat  Deliv'rer  reigns; 
Sing  how  he  spoilM  the  hosts  of  hell, 

And  led  the  raoustt'r  death  in  chains  I'  " 

Here  his  feelings  overcame  him,  and  he  ^vept  like  a  child,  exulting 
in  the  certain  prospect  of  a  final  and  complete  victory  over  the 
"  monster,"  so  terrible  to  the  natm-al  man.  A  few  days  after,  he 
said  to  the  same  friend:  "I  do  not  depend  so  much  upon  past 
experience,  nor  upon  present  states  of  feeling,  as  upon  a  clear 
inward  witness,  like  the  shining  light,  that  Jesus  died  for  me;  that 
he  loves  me,  and  ovms  me  for  his  child.  I  am  going  clown  to  the 
dust;  but  I  expect  to  go  to  a  better  world.  This  supports  me. 
Sometimes  the  state  of  my  body  presses  down  the  mind  so  that  1 
do  not  feel  much  joy ;  but  there  is  a  settled  peace,  and  an  assurance 
that  the  SavioTir  is  mine." 

At  another  time,  referring  to  some  discussions  on  the  subject  of 
Christian  holiness,  he  said :  "  Some  brethren  seem  to  think  that 
Mr.  Wesley  could  not  properly  say  of  himself : — 

"  '  I  the  chief  of  sinners  am. 
But  Jesus  died  for  me.' 

But  I  can  truly  and  properly  say  it,  for  I  feel  it  in  my  heart."  At 
another  time  he  said :  '■  I  have  laboured  Hhy  years  in  the  cause  of 
Christ,  and  have  had,  especially  in  my  earlier  ministry',  many  hard 
appointments ;  1  have  had  many  privations  to  endure,  and  have  suf- 
fered a  good  deal,  and  am  now  so  worn  out  with  labours,  sufferings, 
and  age,  that  I  shall  soon  go  to  my  long  home.  But,  after  all,  1  can 
say:— 

" '  This  all  my  hope,  and  all  my  plea — 
For  me  the  Saviour  died.' 

And  that  is  all  the  plea  we  need.  0  what  a  mercy  it  is  that  God 
has  given  his  Son  to  redeem  us,  so  that  we,  vile  wretches,  can  get 
to  heaven." 

AVhile  dictating  a  letter  to  an  old  friend,  who  had  invited  him  to 
the  hospitalities  of  his  house,  he  paused  in  the  midst  of  his  letter, 
overcome  with  emotion,  and,  while  the  tears  were  rolling  down  over 
his  cheeks,  said :  "  I  am  going  to  the  dust ;  I  shall  probably  never 
go  out  again  till  I  am  borne  to  my  long  home.     I  shall  never  see 

brother ogain  on  earth;  but  1  feel  certain  I  shall  meet,  yea, 

and  KNOW  him  too,  in  heaven — both  him  and  his  dear  wife.     I  have 


1853.]  Bishop  Bedding.  23 

been  cntovtaincd  at  their  house;  it  has  been  a  home  to  me;  they 
Lave  ministered  to  my  ^vants.  I  shall  see  them  on  earth  no  more; 
but  I  SHALL  SKK  and  kkow  them  in  heaven !"  "While  watching  with 
him  one  nit^ht,  after  he  had  somewhat  recovered  from  a  distress- 
in;;  turn,  he  beckoned  the  writer  to  him  from  the  opposite  side  of  the 
ro«'»m,  and  said :  "  Brother  Clark,  I  want  you  to  pray  for  me  every 
,1^3'— every  night  and  every  morning — so  long  as  I  shall  need  to 
have  prayers  offered  for  me."  Upon  my  remarking  that  I  had,  and 
woull  still  pray  for  him,  and  also  that  our  brethren  remembered 
him  in  the  prayer-meeting,  he  replied,  with  a  look  of  satisfaction, 
"  I  thank  you.  I  have  many  praying  friends,  I  know.  It  has  often 
encouraged  me  to  think  so.  It  has  helped  me  to  preach  and  to 
bear  my  burdens  when  I  was  well,  and  now  it  helps  me  in  the  midst 
of  my  afllictions." 

"\V  hen  asked  how  he  felt  about  leaving  the  Church,  for  which  he 
had  toiled  and  laboured  so  long,  he  said:  "  "When  1  was  first  taken 
sick,  more  than  a  year  ago,  the  thought  that  I  was  cut  off  from 
labom-ing  for  the  Church,  and  that  1  should  see  the  dear  brethren 
with  whom  I  had  become  acquainted  no  morc»on  earth,  hung  like 
a  millstone  upon  me,  until  one  night  in  the  winter  of  1851,  as  1  was 
kneeling  in  my  bedroom  praying,  about  midnight,  God  so  impressed 
'ui)on  my  mind  that  the  Church  was  not  mine,  did  not  belong  to  me, 
or  depend  upon  me,  that  I  have  felt  all  that  burden  removed  from 
that  hour.  I  love  the  Church  and  the  brethren  still ;  but  I  leave 
them  in  the  hands  of  G  od,  and  I  can  say  '  Thy  will  be  done.'  "  Then 
fastening  upon  mo  an  intense  and  expressive  look,  he  said,  with 
great  emphasis :  "  The  Church  is  not  mine — it  is  God's.  God  has 
taken  carr  of  the  Church ;  God  ivill  take  care  of  the  Church  ; 
end  he  can  do  it  as  ivcll  icithout  me  as  loith  rneT 

A  few  weeks  before  his  departure  several  brethren,  by  special  invi- 
tation, met  to  partake  with  him  of  the  Holy  Eucharist.  The  bishop 
was  seated  at  the  head  of  the  table,  being  unable  to  kneel  on  account 
of  his  limbs  and  body  being  so  swollen  with  the  dropsy.  "While  the 
elements  were  being  distributed,  he  was  deeply  affected;  and  when 
the  service  was  concluded,  he  began  to  sing,  with  a  tone  of  voice 
tremulous  with  age  and  emotion : — 

"  Praise  God,  from  whom  all  blessings  flow; 
Praise  him,  all  creatures  here  below  ; 
Praise  him  above,  yc  heavenly  hosts ; 
Praise  Father,  .^'on,  ami  Holy  Ghost." 

U  was  an  affecting  scene,  that  touched  every  heart,  and  drew  tears 
frv.ni  every  eye.  JJut  we  were  still  more  affected  with  wliat  fol- 
io* cA.    \\  ith  his  voice  often  choked  and  stifled  with  emotion,  he  said : 


24  Bishop  Hcdding.  [January, 

" '  Whither  shouhl  a  sinnei-  go  ? 

His  vrounds  for  me  staud  open  ■wide  ; 
Only  Jesus  will  I  knOTr, 

And  Jesus  crucified.' 

Erethren,  my  work  is  now  done  on  earth ;  I  am  about  to  go  hence. 
My  body  is  going  to  the  dust ;  but  I  have  good  hope  that  my  soul 
will  go  to  God  in  heaven.  I  am  a  poor,  weak,  wretched  creature : 
have  many  imperfections  and  many  sins  ;  but  I  hope  for,  and  expect 
to  receive,  salvation  through  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ : — 

'  Other  refuge  have  I  none  ; 
Hongs  my  helpless  soul  on  thee.' 

I  had  laboured  fifty  years  and  one  month  in  the  itinerancy  before  I 
was  broken  dovi-n.  I  have  come  short  in  many  things;  but  I  have 
laboured  sincerely  and  earnestly.  I  have  suffered  many  privations, 
and  endured  many  trials ;  but,  after  all,  if  I  had  a  hmidred  lives,  I 
would  be  -^-illing  to  spend  them  all  jn  the  same  way — believing, 
as  I  do,  that  God  called  me  to  the  Avork.  Blessed  be  God !  I  have 
seen  many  a  wanderer  reclaimed,  and  brought  back  to  him ;  I  have 
seen  man}'  a  sinner  awakened  and  led  to  Christ  for  salvation;  and 
many,  many  men  and  women  have  I  attended  upon  dying  beds,  who, 
with  their  last  breath,  shouted  'Glory  to  God!  I  am  washed  and 
made  clean  in  the  atoning  blood  of  the  Lamb.'  The  recollection  of 
these  tilings  comforts  me  now.  I  look  back  upon  them  with  more 
pleasure  than  crowns  and  kingdoms,  or  than  all  the  riches  and  hon- 
ours of  the  world  could  ever  have  given. 

"  Brethren,  while  you  have  life  and  strength,  preach;  preach  Christ 
call  poor  lost  sinners  to  repentance.  Bring  them  to  the  Saviour 
He  is  a  blessed  Saviour !  How  could  avc  preach,  or  pray,  or  labour 
how  could  we  come  to  God,  or  hope  for  heaven,  were  it  not  for  him 

"My  time  of  labour  is  now  past,  and  I  am  going  to  my  rest.  A 
few  years  since,  my  oldest  sister  died.  She  was  converted  to  God 
the  same  time  I  was,  and  had  been  a  faithful  Christian  more  than 
fifty  years.     Her  last  words  were : — 

'Forever  here  my  rest  shall  be, 

Close  to  thy  bleeding  side ; 
This  all  my  hope,  and  all  my  jdea, — 

For  me  the  Saviour  died.' 

This,  too,  is  my  dying  testimony.  I  don't  know  how  long  God  will 
spare  me,  nor  how  soon  he  will  call  me  away.  But,  brethren, 
whether  you  arc  present  or  not,  or  whether  I  can  speak  or  not.  that 
is  now,  and  I  trust  Avill  be,  ray  dving  testimony." 

Here  the  little  remnant  of  his  strcufrth  failed  him,  and  his  wife, 


1853.]  Bisjiop  Hedding.  25 

overwhelmed  with  emotion,  besought  him  to  desist  from  an  exertion 
for  Avhioh  his  strength  was  so  inadequate.  We  soon  after  retired. 
The  above  was  a  scene  not  to  be  forgotten.  It  seemed  as  though 
heaven  itself  was  near.  Ko  forms  of  language,  and  no  powers  of 
Uoscriptlon  can  do  it  justice.  We  mourned  that  a  father  in  Israel 
was  so  soon  to  depart  from  our  midst ;  that  the  Church  was  so  soon 
to  he  bcretl  of  a  foithful  and  time-honoured  guide ;  and  that  the 
cau-'C  of  Christ  would  so  soon  lose  one  of  its  noblest  champions. 
I>ut,  on  the  other  hand,  our  tears  of  sorrow  were  mingled  Avith 
sacred  joy ;  for  we  felt  that  for  one  so  mature  in  Christian  virtues 
to  depart  and  be  with  Christ  Avould  be  far  better ;  we  felt,  indeed, 
that  it  was  fitting  that  the  old  veteran,  Avho  had  battled  for  more  than 
half  a  ccntuiy  in  the  front  ranks  of  Ziou,  one  that  had  fought  man}' 
a  hard  battle  and  now  wore  many  a  scar  received  in  his  Masters 
cause,  should  be  released  from  toils  and  sufferings,  and  enter  into  his. 
glorious  rest.     ^Never  did  mo  so  fully  feel  before,  that 

"  TJic  cbaiuber  where  the  good  inau  meets  his  fate 

Is  privileged  Leyoud  the  common  walks 

Of  vii-tuous  life—quite  on  the  verge  of  heaven." 

Humility  was  a  striking  trait  in  the  character  of  Bishop  Hedding- 
and  his  piety,  ever  at  the  forthest  remove  from  ostentation,  was 
strongly  marked  by  that  predominant  trait  in  the  closing  scene.  He 
fek.  that  It  was  an  awful  thing  to  die;  but,  through  grace,  death  was 
f^horn  of  all  its  terrors.  '=A11  my  dependence," ^ai'd  he,  "is  in  the 
atonement.  If  I  had  to  depend  on  the  covenant  of  works,  or  on  my 
own  faithfulness,  I  should  come  short;  but  1  depend  alone  on  Christ. 
and  I  ieel  that  lie  accepts  me.  I  have  no  doubt  of  it.  /  am  as 
cvnsc.nis  of  it  as  I  can  possibhj  he  of  anythwg.  I  do  not  believe 
that  he  will  cast  me  off.  I  expect  it  will  bo  well  with  me  when  I  go 
^^  hile  J  remain  here,  I  expect  to  suffer  more  and  more.  There  is  no. 
more  rest  f,.r  my  body  in  this  life ;  but  this  is  the  will  of  mv  Father 
and  1  know  it  is  best.  I  pray  that  the  cup  may  pass  fron/me,  if  it 
J-^  tlicwill  of  God ;  but  he  knows  best,  and  I  submit  all  to  him.  I 
tru.st  It  will  work  for  me  a  far  more  exceeding  and  eternal  weight  of 
;;iyry."' 

A  few  days  after,  he  said  to  the  same  friend :—"  Christ  is  all 
JO  iiopc.  1  can  say  nothing  about  my  own  faithfulness;  I  might 
•    •c  prayed  better,  preached  better,  and  done  more  good.     But  I 

J  bven  honest  and  sincere,  and  my  good  God  accepts  me.     I 

V  J.,th  of  March  was  a  day  of  great  suffering;  but  with  great 
T^^T^  to  the  Kev.  Mr.  Fe^^is :  "  I  am  ve^'  sick  ;  I  suffer 
1-oLKTii  .si:i;ins,  Vol.  Y.— 2 


26  Bishop  Hcdding.  [January, 

much.  But  "why  should  a  livinj^  man  complain  ?  I  dare  not  pray 
or  wish  to  die.  T  desire  to  lie  in  the  hands  of  God.  I  know  not 
what  I  should  do,  if  I  had  not  the  assurance  that  God  is  with  me. 
I  need  help  from  heaven  every  moment,  and  I  have  it;  Ifeel  that  I 
have  it,  and  this  is  my  support.  I  sometimes  wonder  how  such  a 
poor  wretch,  taken  out  of  the  dust  and  mire  of  pollution  and  sin, 
can  ever  be  made  pure  and  fitted  for  a  holy  place — to  dwell  with  God 
and  Christ,  and  all  the  holy  beings  of  heaven  forever!  I  could  not 
believe  it  if  the  glorious  t)-uths  of  the  gospel  were  not  so  wonder- 
fully supported  by  astonishing  evidence  I" 

From  this  time  his  difficulty  of  breathing  continued  to  increase, 
and  his  dropsy  became  more  distressing.  He  could  not  lie  down 
without  experiencing  a  sense  of  suffocation  that  required  immediate 
cjiange;  and  thus,  whole  days  and  nights  were  passed  in  the  most 
excruciating  distress,  and  almost  without  sleep. 

March  the  oOth,  1  made  my  usual  call  upon  him,  and  found  him 
in  a  most  wretched  bodily  condition.  The  throbbing  of  the  arteries 
in  his  neck,  occasioned  by  the  affection  of  his  heart,  had  become  in- 
tense. He  was  so  bloated  that  his  clothes  could  no  longer  be  put 
upon  him ;  his  skin  was  so  distended  and  inflamed  that  every  motion 
was  attended  with  excruciating  pain.  In  the  liollow  of  his  limbs,  at 
the  knee  joint,  the  skin  had  burst,  and  Avater  was  freely  running 
from  the  aperture.  His  difficulty  of  breathing  was  very  great,  from 
the  collection  of  water  upon  his  chest  and  lungs.  And  in  addition 
to  all  this,  he  had  been  unable  to  get  any  sleep  for  several  days ;  and 
for  want  of  this,  he  could  neither  keep  his  eyes  open,  nor  hold  up 
■his  head.  He  presented  the  most  pitiable  spectacle  of  bodily  suf- 
fering; it  haunted  me  for  days,  and  disturbed  my  slumbers  in  the 
night.  When  1  approached  him  he  raised  his  head,  seized  me  by 
the  hand,  which  he  held  for  some  time,  and  then  feebly  gasped : — 
"Brother  Clark,  I  am  in  a  most  miserable  condition;  but,  tlu-ough 
■my  blessed  Redeemer,  I  trust  I  shall  overcome  at  last." 

The  very  next  day,  (March  31,)  after  referring  to  the  sudden  and 
ten-ible  attack  he  suffered  fifteen  months  before,  he  said  to  the  Rev. 
Mr.  Ferris:  "  ^Yith  the  stroke,  God  gave  me  wonderful  grace;  and 
it  has  been  with  me  ever  since.  My  prospect  has  been  clear  ever 
since.  Not  a  day,  not  an  hour,  not  a  moment,  have  I  had  any 
doubt  or  tormenting  fear  of  death.  I  have  been  at  times  so  that  it 
was  doubtful  Avhether  J.  would  live  five  minutes  ;  but  all  was  bright 
:and  glorious.  I  have  not  had  joy  all  the  time;  but  great  support 
and  comfort.  But  to-day  1  have  been  ivondcrfuUij  blessed.  I  was 
reflecting  upon  the  wonder  of  God's  mercy — how  a  just,  and  infinite, 
■and  holy  God  could  take  such  vile  creatures  to  dwell  with  him  in  so 


1&53.3  Bishop  Jledding.  27 

liolj  a  plucc — so  unworthy,  so  sinful,  so  polluted ;  and  I  thought  of 
his  great  mercy  to  me — hoAv  much  he  had  done  for  me;  and  I  had 
such  glorious  views  of  the  atonement  by  Christ — his  sufferings  and 
the  glory  that  should  follow — that  my  soul  was  filled  in  a  wonderful 
luatmer.  I  have  served  God  more  than  fifty  years  ;  I  have  generally 
IkuI  peace ;  but  I  never  saiv  sucIl  glory  before — such  light,  svch 
clearness,  such  beauty  !  0,  I  want  to  tell  it  to  all  the  world  I  0, 
had  1  a  trumpet  voice, 

'  Then  would  I  tell  to  sinners  round, 
What  a  DEAR  Saviour  I  have  found.' " 

Here  his  emotion  overcame  him,  and  choked  his  utterance  for  a  m.o- 
inciit.  ..."  But  I  cannot.  I  never  shall  preach  again — never  shall 
go  over  the  mountains  and  through  the  valleys,  the  woods,  and  the 
Hwamps,  to  tell  of  Jesus  any  more.  But,  0,  what  glory  I  feel  I  it 
hhiues  and  burns  all  through  me;  it  came  upon  me  like  the  rushing 
of  a  mighty  wind,  as  on  the  day  of  Pentecost.'".  "  Alas  !"  says  the 
narrator,  '■  the  pc}i  can  never  represent  this  scene — the  broken  ac- 
cent, the  laboured  effort,  the  deep  feeling,  the  holy  fervour,  the  up- 
lifted and  radiant  countenance,  the  eye  tliat  gleamed  with  unearthly 
lustre,  the  tears  choking  the  utterance,  and  the  whole  frame  shaking 
with  emotion;  these  cannot  be  represented,  but  will  never  be  foi-- 
gottcn.  I  retired,  resolved  to  be  a  better  Christian  and  a  more  faith- 
ful ministLT." 

The  suffering  days  of  the  revered  man  of  God  were  now  drawing 
to  a  clo>c.  His  sufferings  gradually  abated ;  his  breathing  became  less 
difiioult,  and  he  was  able  to  lie  doAvn  and  rest  with  some  degree  of  com- 
fort. 1 1  is  quietude,  however,  was  not  that  from  which  the  system  rallies 
to  victory  and  triump'is  over  disease ;  but  that  in  which  its  exhaust- 
ed powers,  fully  spent  in  the  conflict,  sink  to  rally  no  more.  He 
wai?  not  merely  calm,  but  cheerful ;  and  often  exhibited  flashes  of 
that  genial  spiightliness,  humour  and  wit,  so  characteristic  of  him 
m  earlier  days.  Yet  a  heavenly  atmosphere  reigned  around  him. 
His  work  Avas  done ;  he  was  tarrying  for  a  moment  on  the  bank  of 
Jordan,  waiting  permission  from  his  Master  to  pass  over. 

'I'hat  permission  was  not  long  delayed.  About  three  o'clock  on 
t.:-"*  morning  of  the  9th  of  April  a  change  took  place,  betokening 
tho  near  approach  of  deatli.  Early  in  the  morning  his  suffering.s 
Were  great ;  but  his  intellectual  powers — conscionsness,  perception, 
Ui.-ni<.r>-,^  reason— were  unaffected.  Several  Christian  friends  wit- 
h>'*<,,\  his  dying  struggles  and  the  glorious  triumph  of  his  abiding 
f;ut.i.  \\  hcii  asked  if  his  prospect  was  clear  he  replied  witli  great 
cmphiisis :  "  0,  yes,  yes,  yes  !     I  have  been  wonderfully  sustained 


28  Bishop  Hedding.  [January, 

of  late,  beyond  the  usual  degree."  After  a  pause,  he  con- 
tinued : — 

•"My  Euff'ring  time  will  soon  bo  o'er; 
•  Then  I  shall  sigh  and  weep  no  more  ; 
Jly  ransom'd  soul  shall  soar  away, 
To  sing  thy  praise  in  endless  day.' 

I  trust  in  Christ,  and  he  does  not  disappoint  me.  I  feel  him,  I  en- 
joy him,  and  I  look  forward  to  an  inheritance  in  his  kingdom." 

He  looked  at  his  luinds,  and  calmly  marked  the  progress  death  was 
making.  Feeling  that  death  was  fost  approaching,  he  made  repeated 
eftbrts  to  straighten  himself  and  to  adjust  his  limbs  in  the  bed. 
Then,  after  remaining  quiet  a  few  moments,  summoning  all  his 
strength  and  elevating  his  voice,  he  said :  "  I  trust  in  God  and  feel 
safe !" 

It  ^yas  then  remarked  to  him  that  he  was  almost  over  Jordan. 
He  looked  up  and  answered :  "  Yes ;"  then  raising  both  hands,  he 
shouted,  scarcely  above  a  whisper,  "  Glory,  glorv  I  Glory  to  God ! 
Glory  to  God !  Glory  to  God  !  GI017  !"  When  asked  if  death 
had  any  ten-ors,  he  replied:  "No,  none  w"hatever;  my  peace  is 
made  with  God.  I  do  not  expect  to  live  till  sunset;  but  I  have  no 
choice ;  I  leave  it  all  with  God."  Then,  placing  his  hand  upon  his 
breast,  he  said :  "  1  am  happy — filled." 

After  shifting  his  position  several  times  without  finding  relief 
from  his  sufferings,  he  broke  out : — 

"  '  When  iiain  o'er  my  weak  flc?h  prevails, 

With  Iamb-like  patience  arm  my  breast ; 
"When  grief  my  wounded  soul  assails, 

In  lowly  meekness  may  I  rest.'" 

Subsequently,  he  said :  "  ]My  God  is  my  best  friend,  and  I  trust  in  him 
with  all  my  heart.  I  have  trusted  in  him  for  more  than  fifty  years." 
Then,  after  pausing  for  breath,  he  added :  "  '  Because  I  live,  ye  shall 
live  also.'  What  a  promise  I"  Soon  after  this  his  powers  of  speech 
failed;  his  breathing  grew  tremulous  and  short;  life  ebbed  gradu- 
ally away,  and  at  last  its  Aveary  wheels  stood  still. 

Thus  passed  away  one  of  the  purest  and  noblest  spirits  of  our 
earth.  lie  died  as  might  have  been  augured  from  his  character  and 
life ;  he  died  as  the  Christian  only  can  die.  Up  to  the  last  moment 
of  earthly  communion,  he  was  calm  and  serene.  Eternity  was 
breaking  upon  his  view,  but  he  knew  in  whom  he  had  believed.  To 
see  the  Christian,  who,  with  the  intellect  of  a  philosopher  and  the 
•wisdom  of  a  sage,  had  scanned  the  evidences  and  the  doctrines  of 
the  gospel  to-  their  very  depths :  to  see  such  a  one  maturing  for 


1S53.}  Incompetence  of  Reason,  etc.  29 

the  skies,  f^oinf^  forth  to  the  last  conflict  with  no  misgivings  of  spirit 
—calmly,  fnmlj,  constantly  trusting  in  the  atonement  of  his  Sav- 
iour; to  mark  his  trembling  hmuility,  the  low  estimate  he  placed 
upon  his  services  in  the  Church  of  Christ,  and  upon  his  Christian 
piety— these  were  privileges  of  no  ordinary  moment,  and  afforded 
li'.ssons  of  indescribable  value.  We  have  often  visited  the  dying  couch 
«>r  tlie  saint  of  God,  and  there  witnessed  the  triumph  of  the  Christian 
faith;  but  never  before  did  sickness  and  feebleness  seem  to  enshrine 
such  loveliness,  or  death  such  beauty.  The  full  significance  of  that 
couplet  of  Coleridge  seemed  to  be  realized : 

■"  Is  that  bis  Jeath-bcil,  -where  tlic  Christian  lies  ? 
No!  'tis  not  his;  'tis  death  itself  there  dies  !" 

Bishop  lledding,  in  his  life  and  in  his  death,  has  left  to  the  Church 
of  Christ  one  of  the  richest  legacies ;  his  life  was  a  triumph  of  good- 
ness, liis  death  a  triumph  of  faith.  The  benedictions  of  the  Church 
rest  upon  him,  and  future  generations  shall  rise  up  to  bless  his  mem- 
ory. Devout  men,  with  great  lamentation,  bore  him  to  his  burial. 
lie  rests  from  his  labours ;  his  works  do  follow  him.  "  The  memo- 
rial of  virtue  is  immortal,  because  it  is  known  with  God  and  men. 
\Vhcn  it  is  present,  men  take  example  at  it;  and  when  it  is  gone, 
they  desire  it ;  it  weareth  a  crown  and  triumpheth  forever." 


Ar.T.  II.-INCOMPETEXCE  OF  REASON  IN  MATTERS  OF 
RELIGION. 

IV^^V  •dtoTVEvcTor—uxbiliiios  -pig  dii^aaKa/.iai'.—Paitl. 

In  our  inquiries  after  religious  truth,  we  are  prone  to  turn  from 
uhat  God  has  revealed,  to  what  man  has  studied  and  reasoned. 
I'lie  propensity  to  err  in  this  respect  is  innate,  an.l  to  be  controlled 
only  by  divine  grace.  Not  that  we  are  to  be  denied  the  exercise  of 
tins  noblest  faculty  of  the  mind.  To  reason  well  is  a  divine  gift, 
and  creates  in  the  breast  a  sense  of  native  dignity,  which  allies°the 
Tsrit  though  fallen,  to  its  great  original.  But  this  feeling,  which 
HKiy  be  reckoned  a  godlike  quality  of  soul,  is  near  akin  to  a  pride 
^'"'•U  IS  diabolical.  And  the  more  difficult  the  problem,  the  more 
riYonditf  OT  abstruse  the  subject  on  which  the  reason  is  exercised, 
10  i!,„rc  13  its  curiosity  stimulated,  the  movQ  is  this  pride  fostered, 
nu'l  t.).>  inci-c  keenly  is  it  gratified  at  any  plausible  show  of  success. 
.  lore  labour  has  probably  been  wasted "^in  vain  attempts  to  square 


30  Incompetence  of  Reason  [January, 

the  circle,  than  to  demonstrate  the  properties  of  all  geometric  forms 
besides;  more  perplexing  study  to  invent  a  perpetual  motion,  than 
to  perfect  the  steam-engine. 

So  in  religious  tiijths :  it  is  just  Avhen  -we  come  to  those  which 
lie  beyond  the  scope  of  human  lliculties,  and  are,  therefore,  made 
the  subject  of  revelation,  that  reason  becomes  rampant  for  the  field, 
and  is  most  elated  with  her  f\incied  achievements.  And  it  is  this 
spirit  of  self-sufficiency,  in  discredithig  God  alike  in  Iris  word  and 
in  his  providences,  against  which  we  would  utter  a  caution. 

We  have,  first,  this  general  consideration  : — That  if  man  be  able, 
by  his  own  studies,  to  settle  the  great  questions  of  religious  concern, 
then  has  he  no  need  of  a  higher  instructor.  Reason  may  be  his 
inspiration ;  Logic  should  frame  his  Decalogue,  and  Philosophy  con- 
stitute his  Gospel. 

But  a  second  preliminary  thought.  Wc  have  an  a  priori  process, 
from  the  conclusion  of  which  we  cannot  escape.  And  to  present  it 
distinctively,  we  observe  that  Ave  find  societies  distinguished  into 
two  gi-and  classes — the  one,  stationary ;  the  other,  progressive.  The 
latter  of  these  divides  itself  again  into  two  subordinate  classes,  by 
certain  well-marked  features  which  characterize  the  nature  of  the 
progression  as  physical  or  metaphysical;  that  is,  advancement  in 
the  arts  which  minister  to  man's  physical  comforts,  or  advancement 
in  intellectual  culture.  These  two,  totally  distinct,  are  for  the  most 
part  conconntant,  though  not  always  in  equal  degree ;  and  states  arc- 
found  in  which  the  one  or  the  other  has  greatly  predominated.  Wo 
put  now  the  question : — What  will  be  the  moral  and  religious  ten- 
dency of  society  in  either  of  these  states  of  progression,  apart  from 
the  saving  knowledge  of  divine  truth?  Our  premiss  is  furnished 
by  the  word  of  revelation.  From  the  doctrine  of  human  depravity, 
we  leam  that  man  has  a  natural  aptitude  to  evil,  and  inaptitude  to 
good.  We  are,  indeed,  authorized  to  make  the  proposition  yet  strong- 
er, and  to  say,  that  man  has  a  natural  aversion  from  good,  and  a  natural 
appetency  for  evil.  Place  human  nature  then  on  this  basis  and  set 
the  moi-al  elements  in  commotion,  and  what  results?  Society  is 
acquiring  new  ideas,  new  feelings,  new  modes  of  thought ;  devising 
new  doctrines,  new  theories,  now  systems.  With  new-felt  wants  and 
new  desires,  and  gi'owing  strength  of  passion,  comes  increased  facility 
of  gratification.  And  in  all  these  evolutions,  the  heart,  like  a  human 
magnet,  attracts  upon  itself  whatever  is  congenial  to  its  nature,  and 
repels  whatever  is  averse.  Nay,  with  a  power  of  human  alchemy, 
it  analyzes  whatsoever  it  touches,  and  seeks  out  latent  aflinities. 
The  result  must  be  then,  that  advancement  in  the  arts  of  physical  life 
tends  to  moral  degeneracy ;  advancement  in  intellectual  culture,  to 


1853.]  in  Matters  of  Religion.  31 

error  in  doctrine.  The  one  ends  in  abasement  and  total  corruption; 
the  otiier,  in  the  subtilties  of  speculation,  which  dissipate  religious 
f;uth,  and  lead,  if  not  to  atheism,  to  the  worst  forms  of  scepticism. 

Such  is  a  conclusion  derived,  we  think  fairly,  from  known  and 
cortnin  premises.  But  what  say  the  facts?  For  the  efforts  of 
reason  in  this  direction  are  no  longer  matter  of  experiment,  but  of 
history.  And  what  has  she  done,  or  what  docs  she  now  profess  to 
do,  towards  dcmonsti'ating  religious  truth?  From  among  many, 
we  select  a  fe^v  examples. 

We  take,  first,  that  which  may  be  considered  the  starting-point 
in  metaphysical  inquiries  of  this  kind — the  a  priori  argument  for 
the  existence  and  attributes  of  a  God.  The  first  form  of  the  argu- 
ment which  we  notice  is  this : — "We  can  fonn  an  idea  of  a  Being  of 
infinite  perfection;  or,  in  other  words,  the  existence  of  such  a 
]3eing  is  possible.  But,  secondly,  such  an  idea  were  not  pos- 
sible, if  it  had  not  a  coiTCsponding  reality.  By  these  two  prem- 
ises, therefore,  we  are  conducted  to  the  logical  necessity  of  the 
existence  of  an  absolute  and  infinite  Being.  This  was  substan- 
tially the  form  of  the  argument  in  the  eleventh  century,  as  pro- 
pounded by  Archbishop  Anselm,  of  Canterbury.  Descartes  may 
be  reckoned  its  chief  patron  in  more  modern  times.  Its  first 
obvious  defect  is  in  the  major  premiss ;  which,  after  all  the  quali- 
fications and  studied  supports  it  has  received,  resolves  itself 
ultimately  into  the  old  question  of  the  Nominalists  and  Bealists. 
Establish  the  doctrine  that  every  idea  must  have  its  archetype  in 
nature,  and  the  proposition  is  vahd.  With  that  it  stands  or  falls. 
In  this  process,  then,  we  simpl}^  conclude  from  the  possible  to  the 
actual;  from  the  nominal  to  the  real ;  from  an  idea  to  the  necessary 
existence  of  a  corresponding  rcalitij.  By  such  reasoning  we  make 
Oberon  and  Puck,  old  Kronos  and  Dis,  every  bugbear  of  the  nursery, 
and  every  chimera  of  the  heated  brain,  real  and  necessary  existences, 
equally  with  the  infinite  God. 

But  when  the  question  is,  what  reason  can  accomplish  independent 
of  revelation,  we  push  the  objection  still  further,  and  we  question 
the  minor  premiss  of  this  argument.  What?  Shall  the  mind  of 
man.  without  any  ray  of  celestial  light,  raise  itself  to  the  sublime 
conception  of  the  idea  of  an  Eternal,  Self-existent  Being,  infinite 
in  all  perfections  ?  And  yet,  it  is  that  which  philosophy  assumes 
^M•.f'n  .she  asserts  her  independence  in  such  a  demonstration.  That 
•vinoli  may  be  regarded  as  the  ultimate  end  to  which  Christianity 
^'oul.l  lead  us,  is  here  assumed  as  the  starting-point,  by  unaided 
rc-a?on.  And  if  this,  which  has  been  a  popular  form  of  the  argument. 
vjU    not   buiTicc  to  establish  the  existence   of  a  God,  much  less 


32  Incoinpetaicp  nf  Reason  [January, 

can  it  prove  any  of  the  distinctive  attributes  or  moral  qualities  of  his 
nature. 

Another  argument,  and  Avhich  is  relied  on  by  the  learned  Dr. 
Samuel  Clarke,  vi\\o  rejects,  as  invalid,  the  one  just  noticed,  is  this : 
— We  have  in  our  minds  ideas  of  infinity  and  eternity ;  that  is,  of 
space  and  duration  unlimited.  But,  "to  suppose  that  there  is  no 
Being  in  the  universe  to  -which  these  attributes  are  necessarily  in- 
herent, is  a  contradiction  in  the  very  terms."  The  error  here  lies 
in  assuming  space  and  duration  to  be  attributes  or  qualities  -which 
necessarily  imply  a  substance  in  which  they  hihere;  and  that  the 
substance,  being  co-extensive  with  the  qualities,  is  therefore  infinite 
and  eternal.  Is  this  philosophy  or  is  it  vagary  V  But  grant,  for 
a  moment,  the  assumption,  and  -where  does  it  appear  that  the 
two  several  qualities  or  attributes  necessarily  inhere  in  the  same 
substance  ?  So  far  as  reason  shall  teach  us,  may  we  not  have  two 
independent  substances  or  Beings — the  one  eternal,  but  not  infinite ; 
the  other  infinite,  and  not  eternal  ? 

But  with  all  the  temerity  of  speculation,  it  has  been  reserved,  we 
believe,  for  the  nineteenth  century  to  demonstrate  so  abstruse  and 
incomprehensible  a  doctrine  as  that  of  the  triune  nature  of  God. 
It  had  been  attempted  before  to  show  that  such  a  tenet  was  not  in- 
consistent with  reason ;  and  so  far  as  it  is  practicable,  in  this  way, 
to  remove  the  difficulties  which  the  mind  encounters  in  assenting, 
on  mere  authority,  to  a  proposition  which  it  can  neither  deny  nor 
comprehend,  the  effort  were  well  enough.  But  now  they  have  dis- 
covered that  such  a  condition  of  Deity  is  not  only  rational,  but 
necessary — absolutely  essential  to  eternal  existence  and  the  work 
of  creation — and,  if  their  premises  be  correct,  the  most  simple 
and  obvious  thing  imaginable.  The  argument  is  presented  by  a 
recent  author  as  follows  : — 

It  first  assumes,  that  any  being,  even  the  Self-existent,  could  not 
be  conscious  of  its  own  existence,  without  the  cognizance  of  some 
object  extraneous  to  itself ;  and  if  not  capable  of  self- consciousness, 
much  less  of  creation,  or  any  other  act  of  Deity.  Hence  the  necessity 
of  the  eternal  existence  of  a  second  person — of  a  contemplator  and 
a  contemplated ;  the  Father  and  the  Son.  It  next  assumes,  as  a 
primary  truth  or  an  miquestionable  premiss,  that  the  necessaiy  two 
could  not  exist  in  harmony,  in  unity,  without  the  intervention  of  a 
third,  as  the  medium  of  union ;  and  this  brings  us  to  the  idea  of  a 
Trinity,  absolutely,  and  in  the  nature  of  things,  necessary. 

For  this  last  point. — this  doctrine  of  a  spiritual  mordant — the 
intervention  of  a  third  substance,  in  order  to  effect  a  union, — 
what  is  this  but  metaphysical  chemistry  V     And  if  chemistry  is  pre- 


1S53.]  '        in  Matters  of  Religion.  33 

eminently  an  empirical  science,  -^ho  has  experimented  thus  far? 
And  did  he  conjure,  or  how  confine  spirits  in  his  crucible?  "What 
were  the  tests?  and  where,  pray  show  us,  the  laboratory  of  this 
modern  alchemist?  And  yet,  grave  Doctors  of  Theology  gravely 
announce  such  dogmas  for  the  edification  of  those  who  count  it  wis- 
dom to  wonder  at  the  lofty  strides  which  reason  is  taught  to  practise. 

But  to  return  to  the  former  part  of  this  argument — that  self- 
consciousness  is  not  possible  without  an  apprehension  of  something 
besides  self  Grant  the  truth  of  this  premiss,  and  how  do  we  knoAV 
it?  Who  shall  demonstrate  it?  Or,  how  was  it  discovered?  But 
is  the  premiss  true  ?  If  it  be,  we  have  only  to  say,  it  is  hugely  at 
odds  with  common  experience;  nor  will  it  without  further  light 
appeiu-  to  all  to  consist  with  the  higher  efforts  of  reason  and  meta- 
physical analysis.  It  is  certainly  at  variance  with  the  first  principles 
of  the  Cartesian  philosophy.  For  that,  in  running  down  the 
celebrated  anti-climax — the  duhito,  cogito,  sum — arrives  at  a  con- 
viction of  the  Mc,  without  even  a  suspicion  of  the  Not  Me ;  it  dis- 
covers and  surveys  the  whole  region  of  self-consciousness,  in  entire 
ignorance  if  that  be  not  the  universe.  Naj^,  it  next  seriously  doubts 
whether  it  be  possible  "  by  means  of  thought,"  that  is,  as  we  under- 
stand, by  any  process  of  abstract  reasoning,  to  overstep  this 
boundary — to  proceed  from  the  inner  to  the  outer — to  advance 
from  a  consciousness  of  self  to  the  knowledge  of  a  second  reality. 
What  is  this,  but  a  house  divided  against  itself?  and  let  it  fall. 

But  let  us  turn  to  an  humbler  theme.  Descending  from  Deity  to 
man,  we  notice  his  efforts  to  prove  his  OAvn  immortality.  It  has 
been  common  to  establish,  by  a  series  of  negative  conclusions,  that 
soul  or  spirit  is  not  subject  to  the  laws  of  matter,  and  then  from 
immateriality  to  conclude  immortality,  or  imperishability.  But 
why  such  an  inference  ?  Is  it  that  we  see  matter  constantly  perish- 
mg.  and.  from  the  unlikeness  of  spirit  in  other  respects,  we  infer 
dissimilitude  in  this  also  ?  Such  deduction  were  even  then  illogical ; 
but,  on  the  other  hand,  matter  does  not  perish  obviously ;  and,  we 
s^uppose,  cannot,  except  by  the  hand  of  the  Omnipotent.  The  power 
wliich  created,  could  doubtless  uncreate ;  and  if  this  be  true,  no 
reason  can  be  given  why  spirit  is  not,  equally  with  matter,  obnoxious 
to  such  a  fate.  It  is  only  in  its  organic  forms,  and  the  principle  of 
physical  life,  that  matter  seems  to  lack  permanence  and  durability — 
wero  conditions  of  matter,  and  conditions  in  which,  if  approximation 
'^'-"iM  be  said  at  all,  it  approaches  nearest  the  nature  of  spirit. 
^  -I'^it  this  argument  is  generally  abandoned  now  by  .l*iosc  at  all 
onnvf-rsant  with  the  subject,  and  that  on  which  reliance  is  had,  casts 
iUiut  into  this  form:— It  is  asserted  that  the  soul  can  perish  in 


34    "  "  Incompetence  of  Reason  [January, 

but  one  of  three  "ways,  to  wit:  either  by  dissolution,  bj  jviva- 
tion,  or  by  annihilation.  Granted;  and  -what  next?  First: — 
That  "which  is  \Yithout  parts  cannot  be  dissolved.  The  soul  is 
simple  and  uncompounded;  therefore,  it  cannot  perish  by  disso- 
lution. So  Ave  believe ;  but  not  by  virtue  of  this  syllogism. 
To  say  nothing  of  the  fallacy  lurking  in  the  ambiguous  forms 
of  the  major  term,  the  second  premiss  here  assumes  to  define 
the  nature  of  spirit,  -whereas  it  is  only  shown  that  Ave  cannot 
define  it.  Water  and  air  -were  believed  to  be  simple  and  un- 
compounded elements.  Platinum  and  hydrogen  arc  still  believed 
to  be  so.  Some  substances  -which  are  reckoned  such  now,  are 
strongly  suspected  to  be  compound.  Of  spirit  "we  can  only  affirm, 
in  this  regard,  that  it  cannot  be  subjected  to  analysis,  and,  for  aught 
•we  kno-w,  may  be  the  most  simple  or  the  most  complex  thing 
created. 

But,  secondly,  What  can  be  said  oi privation  ?  By  this  term  our 
metaphysicians  seem  to  understand,  the  soul's  ceasing  to  exist,  or 
gradually  relinquishing  life,  '"  by  the  tendencies  of  its  o-wn  nature." 
And  they  argue  that,  if  its  natural  tendency  be  to  death,  it  -will,  by 
virtue  of  this  property,  at  some  period,  cease  to  exist ;  if  its  ten- 
dency be  to  life,  it  will  live  forever.  And  that  it  now  exists,  they 
claim  as  sufficient  evidence  that  its  natural  tendency  is  to  existence. 
^Vhat  is  this,  but  stark  atheism  ? — a  making  of  certain  properties 
necessarily  inherent  in  the  soul?  If  God  created  the  soul,  it  was- 
for  him  to  give  it  its  conditions  of  existence ;  and  for  aught  that 
human  reason  can  tell,  it  were  as  easy  for  hira  to  make  the  condition 
of  the  soul's  existence  the  life  of  the  body,  as  to  make  the  presence 
of  light  the  condition  of  colours. 

The  third  point — that  the  Almighty  can  annihilate  the  soul — 
may  not  be  questioned;  and  whether  he  ivill,  must  so  obviously  be 
matter  of  revelation,  that  philosophy  even  must  consent  to  resign  us 
to  that  source  of  instruction. 

We  give  these  as  specimens,  and  without  pretending  to  have  made 
the  best  selection,  of  the  i^i  priori  style  of  metaphysics.  And  with 
the  knowledge  we  now  have  of  the  character  of  these  arguments 
whereby  it  is  sought  to  demonstrate  the  my.>terles  of  religion,  the 
being  and  attributes  of  a  God,  the  nature  and  destiny  of  the  human 
soul,  and  all  the  more  spiritual  and  vital  doctrines  of  the  gospel, 
candour  compels  us  to  say,  that  we  find  the  premises  still  assumed. 
They  arc  pnstulata  non  data  ;  and  postulates  they  must  remain  in 
that  sense  which  constitutes  them  a  logical  pctitio.  The  reasoning 
of  this  industrious  nation  is  for  the  most  part  correct,  often  beau- 
tiful, enticing,  delusive ;   and  is  defective  only  in  the  want  of  a 


.v-:^- 


ls,53.]  in  Matters  of  Religion.  -:  S5 

ri-eniis3,  a  perfect  Archimedean  lever;  and,  like  that,  lacks  only  a 
lulcnim. 

lict  us  turn  briefly  to  the  opposite  method,  and  inquire  -what  suc- 
cc.-;s  attends  the  process  a  posteriori.  It  is  on  the  argument  of  this 
kind  tluit  Dr.  vSamuel  Clarke  bases  his  celebrated  Demonstration.  The 
piT.cos.'^  by  which  he  finds  the  eternity  of  a  God,  is  given  in  this  sum- 
umrv  manner  : — "  Something  now  is  :  therefore,  something  always 
>s  a;i."  }3ut  this  argument,  if  it  proves  anything,  proves  equally  the  eter- 
nitv  of  matter,  or  the  impossibility  of  any  existence  whatever  !  For, 
wlicn  developed,  it  is  seen  to  turn  on  the  old  maxim,  de  nihilo  nihil. 
Every  effect,  they  say,  implies  an  adequate  cause ;  every  existence 
implies  an  author;  that  which  caused  all  things,  must  be  itself  un- 
caused ;  and  therefore — eternal.  But  this  conclusion  is  in  fiat  con- 
tradiction of  the  fundamental  postulate.  The  argument  commences 
with  asserting  that  nothing  exists  without  a  cause,  and  ends  with 
inferring  something  uncaused ! 

}>ut  let  us  try  another  link  of  this  wonderful  chain.  Suppose 
ourselves  in  possession  of  the  fact  of  an  Eternal  Spirit.  From  this 
point  it  is  afiirmed  that  matter  must  have  been  created  by  this  Spirit ; 
for  that  matter  could  not  create  itself.  This  looks  plausible  enough 
in  the  light  of  divine  truth  ;  but  where  revelation  has  not  taught  it, 
man  naturally  reasons  in  quite  another  strain.  "  Do  men  gather 
grapes  of  thorns,  or  figs  of  thistles?"  The  maxim,  similia  ex 
iimilihii.s,  teaches  that  though  spirit  might  generate  spirit,  and  mat- 
ter matter,  neither  could  generate  anything  so  unlike  itself  as  the 
other.  Hence  we  arrive  at  the  conclusion — and  it  is  the  best  that 
philosophy  has  ever  done — that  matter,  equally  with  spirit,  is  eter- 
ual.  For  before  we  find  it  possible  that  this  Spirit  should  have 
created  the  world,  we  must  prove  not  01%  Ms  eternity,  but  his  om- 
ni|>otence;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  we  could  infer  his  power  only 
from  the  stupendous  magnitude  of  his  known  and  acknowledged 
works. 

We  might  also  pursue  the  argument  of  design,  as  manifesting  the 
wisdom  and  benevolence  of  the  Creator;  and  when  the  patron  of 
^»:ltural  Theology  has  fortified  his  positions  most  securely  by  one 
sevie.?  of  facts,  another  series  may  exhibit  an  opposite  doctrine, 
<-qually  strong,  and  the  inquirer  or  the  caviller  may  still  ask,  AVhy, 
»f  tiio  Author  of  nature  is  infinitely  benevolent,  why  is  the  earth 
i-u-nloV  Why  do  siroccos  blow?  "Why  do  angry  oceans  devour 
ar^osios,  laden  with  the  means  of  human  comfort  and  human  hap- 
p!nt-<,s-.'  AVhy  does  the  pestilence  waste  populous  cities,  and  strike 
ItTrur  to  the  heart  of  a  nation  ?  Go  to  the  field,  which  the  rage  of 
liaiiic  has  strewed  with  carnage  and  drenched  with  human  gore  :  go 


36  Incompetence  of  Reason  [January, 

to  the  lanes  of  crowded  cities — the  abodes  of  squalid  wretched- 
ness, the  dark  dens  of  misery  and  shame,  from  sight  of  which  hu- 
manity revolts.  Reconcile  these  with  the  wisdom  of  the  Creator, 
and  the  benevolence  of  a  present  Ruler.  Without  the  key  which 
revelation  furaishes,  it  has  been,  and  wo  believe  will  forever  be,  im- 
practicable. We  are  aware  that  in  asserting  this,  we  come  in  con- 
tact with  seated  opinion :  wc  intend  it.  We  would,  if  it  were 
possible,  shake  from  its  base  any  opinion  that  is  not  throned  in  the 
truth.  If  one  argues,  from  the  evidence  of  design  in  created  things, 
an  intelligent  designer,  we  agree  with  him.  Thus  far  Natural  The- 
ology, so  called,  can  carry  it  without  contradiction.  We  may  go 
farther,  and  from  the  manifest  skill  and  inimitable  contrivance  and 
adaptation,  we  may  argue  a  high  degree  of  intelligence ;  we  may 
even  say,  superhuman  wisdom.  We  may  repeat  the  observation 
till  the  mind  is  overwhelmed  with  the  cumulative  force  of  the  argu- 
ment, and  yet  we  shall  strike  every  now  and  then  upon  something 
which  seems  sadly  out  of  joint,  and  the  conclusion  is  forced  to  stop 
short  of  the  end-that  is  aimed  at.  In  regard  to  the  benevolence  of  the 
Designer,  we  are  equally  embarrassed.  ^Vith  all  the  display  of  bounty 
and  goodness,  there  is  a  grand  defect  somewhere ;  and  whatever  we 
may  be  disposed  to  yield  to  the  rhetorical  force  of  the  argument  of  mul- 
tiplied probability,  we  are  utterly  unable  to  find,  by  its  mere  logical 
force,  that  this  Author  of  nature  is  perfect,  both  in  wisdom  and  be- 
nevolence, and  of  power  also  to  accomplish  his  purposes.  To 
reach  this  end,  an  clement  is  wanting,  which  revelation  alone 
supplies. 

But  there  is,  to  our  mind,  a  more  satisfactory  Avay  to  settle  such 
a  question,  than  to  combat  the  arguments  on  their  own  gi'ound, 
wherein  you  are  often  lost  in  abstrusities.  The  efiorts  of  reason,  we 
have  said,  are  matter  of  history.  She  had  the  open  field  for  re- 
peated ages  :  the  result  of  her  labours  is  on  record ;  and  here,  too, 
"  The  things  that  were  written  aforetime,  were  written  for  our  learn- 
ing." And  if  wc  seek  an  illustration  from  the  annals  of  the  past, 
where  shall  we  ifind  a  better  than  from  ancient  Greece— the  land  of 
liberty,  of  learning,  and  of  song? — the  land  where  intellect  was 
deified — was  worshipped.  It  is  well  known  that  in  the  subtilties 
of  abstraction,  her  philosophers  ventured  to  depths  which  the  world 
since  has  not  professed  to  fathom,  and  in  which  they  would  proba- 
bly have  remained  without  a  rival,  had  not  German}'  and  the 
eighteenth  century  produced  a  Kant.  And  what,  after  all,  did  they 
compass  'I  Their  speculations  were  directed  mainly  to  politics  and 
religion :  but,  for  the  former,  their  states  Avent  to  sliipwreck  in  spite 
of  them ;  and  for  the  latter,  they  refined  away  the  popular  belief 


1S53.]  in  Matters  of  Religion.  '    37 

utterly,  hopelessly ;  and  Christianity  found  Greece  infidel  to  the 
heart's  core. 

]*ut  notwithstanding  these  general  results,  it  may  be  asked,  Did 
not  tiiosc  ancient  philosophers  make  some  real  advancement  in  the 
Hcicnco  of  divine  things  ?  IMot  any.  Did  they  not  add  some  ray  to 
tiic  twilight  of  their  early  knowledge  ?  Not  one.  Did  they  not  dis- 
cover, or  at  least  demonstrate  more  clearly,  some  truth  calculated 
to  elevate  and  purify  the  hearts  of  the  people  ?  Farthest  from  it. 
And  it  is  time  a  better  knowledge  and  the  science  of  Christian 
faith  had  disabused  us  of  this  hoary  error,  so  long  sustained  by  fxlsc 
theories  and  a  superficial  view  of  the  facts.  Go  back  to  the  ancient 
masters,  or  to  a  reliable  history  of  their  efforts,  and  what  do  vre 
find  V  Did  Plato  first  discourse  of  virtue  ?  Did  Thales  originate 
the  idea  of  a  cosmogony?  Did  Orpheus  first  sing  of  the  gods,  or 
Homer  of  heroes? 

"Vixere  fortes  ante  j^\gamemnona  multi, 
Xon  Hector — primus." 

J^uri'l}'  for  once,  if  never  again,  the  Koman  bard  said  sooth  in  this 
immortal  strain.  There  were  man}-  brave  before  Agamemnon ; 
man}-  beautiful  before  Helen  ;  many  patriotic  before  Theseus ;  many 
faithful  before  Penelope  ;  and,  compared  with  the  later  philosophers, 
many  wise  in  the  Avisdora  Avhich  is  from  above,  of  whom  no  learned 
discussions  are  chronicled.  But  because  these  lacked  a  "  sacred 
poet,"  or  a  still  inorc  sacred  historian,  the  intervening  glare  of  a 
torch-light  fame  which  their  successors  have  brought  about  them- 
.selvcs,  has  obscured  the  more  distant  ray  of  their  genuine  solar 
light. 

Jiut  go  back,  we  say,  and  what  do  we  find?  In  the  earliest  pe- 
riods to  which  the  history  of  this  nation  ascends,  we  find  the  tra- 
ditions of  a  primitive  revelation  in  a  tolerable  state  of  preservation. 
Hosiod  and  the  Orphic  fragments,  or  from  whatever  imcertain  source 
t!n'  ante-Homeric  songs  may  have  come,  announce  the  fundamental 
tniths  of  creation,  of  divine  sovereignty,  of  eternal  justice,  and  a 
riirhtcous  Judge,  with  the  simplicity  of  well-assured  belief,  and  as 
vith  the  authority  of  inspiration.  Here  was  the  foundation  of  the 
nritir)ii;\l  creed,  wliich  the  labour  of  subsequent  learning  sought  only 
i'>  iiiteqiret,  or  to  develop  and  enforce.  With  what  success,  take 
->'.  •.■xaiiiplc  : — If  it  were  so  easy  as  our  metaphysicians  woidd  claim. 
V'^^how  that  matter  must  have  been  created  by  a  self-existent  being. 
^<  i-.y  should  not  the  ancient  sages — masters  of  logic,  and  profoundly 
f.iriio>«t  iT»  such  inquiries — ever  have  discovered  the  method  to  do  it '.'' 
Om  tho  contrary,  their  labours  tend  only  to  obscure  the  original 
truth ;  their  advance  is  retrograde ;  their  light  becomes  darkness ; 


38  Incompetence  of  Reason  [January, 

their  -wisdom,  folly ;  or,  in  the  expressive  language  of  St.  Paul, 
"  They  became  vain  (i.  e.,-  silhj)  in  their  imaginations,  (or  rather, 
reasonings,  referring  directly  to  these  philosophic  discussions,)  and 
their  foolish  heart  was  darkened."  The  annunciation  of  such  facts 
as  those  in  the  old  fragments  to  which  Ave  have  alluded,  Avas  not  to 
them  a  poetic  fiction ;  it  vras  the  embodiment  of  the  ancient  tra- 
dition ;  the  inheritance  of  their  faith,  and  came  down  to  the  age  of 
the  philosophers  an  integr-al  pai't  of  the  popular  belief  This  is 
evident  from  the  fact,  that  when  human  reason  set  about  to  construct 
a  universe,  and  to  demonstrate  what  can  be  known,  it  began  by 
denying  so  incomprehensible  a  fact  as  the  creation  of  matter, 
and  assumed  the  impossibility  of  such  a  Avork.  The  philoso- 
pher Avas  hence  throAvn  back  upon  the  ground  Avhich  is  noAV  pro- 
nounced absurd ;  namely,  that  matter  in  some  form,  developed  or 
germinant,  Avas  uncreated  and  eternal.  This  Avas  the  issue  of  their 
highest  efforts.  They  began  in  truth ;  they  ended  in  error  and 
confusion. 

And  this  is  a  fair  specimen  of  the  progress  of  philosophy.  Even 
on  the  fundamental  questions  of  the  existence  of  the  gods  and  a 
human  soul,  we  see  them  still  tending  to  uncertainty. 

"  It  must  be  so,  Plato,  thou  rcasoncst  Avell, 

was  beautifully  said,  and  has  deceived  thousands  into  a  false  notion 
of  the  Avisdom  of  the  ancient  sage ;  but  the  apt  phraseology  has 
done  more  for  the  fime  of  its  author,  than  ever  metaphysics  did 
for  the  assurance  of  Plato  in  the  doctrine  of  his  own  immortality. 
FolloAV.  him  through  his  laboured  arguments,  and  Ave  find  him  ever, 
as  if  dissatisfied  with  all  the  rest,  falling  back  upon  the  general 
consideration,  which  indeed  Avas  a  favourite  one  of  his,  to  Avit :  "  The 
common  opinion  of  the  Hellenes  and  the  Barbarians  " — that  is,  the 
ancient  and  universid  faith  of  the  human  race  ;  Avhich,  rightly  inter- 
preted, is  nothing  more  nor  less  than  the  traditions  of  that  primitive 
revelation  Avhich  A\as  the  common  inheritance  of  the  patriarchs  and 
of  the  scattered  tribes.  Evidently,  the  human  mind  is  so  consti- 
tuted, that  once  possessed  of  a  notion  of  its  own  immortality,  it 
could  not  easily  lose  it,  nor  forego  the  belief  in  it,  unless  Avhere  it 
is  sunk  into  a  state  of  ignorance  and  stupidity  quite  bcloAv  the 
common  level  of  even  saA^age  life ;  or  Avhere  it  has  learned  to  doubt 
theoretically  Avhatevcr  it  cannot  demonstrate.  And  Ave  cannot  Avell 
forbear  the  remark,  in  passing,  hoAV  vainly  the  divine  Warburton 
and  his  disciples  should  admit  the  infidel  objection,  that  Moses 
nowhere  teaches  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  and  assume  to  apolo- 
gize for  the  LaAVgiver  and  Prophet,  by  afhrming  that  the  Avorld  was 


1S53.]  in  Matters  of  Religion.  39 

not  yet  ripe  for  the  reception  of  such  a  doctrine.  Rather,  the  •world 
was  not  yet  ripe  for  doubt.  It  is  only  when  Reason  has  usurped 
the  province  of  Faith,  and  begins  to  narrow  do-wn  the  universe  to 
her  impotent  conclusions,  that  man  begins  to  doubt  a  truth  once 
revealed,  and  so  instinctively  felt,  as  that  of  the  spiritual  nature  and 
iuiniorlal  destiny  of  the  soul.  The  faith  that  sustained  him  to  the 
IjiMvens,  shorn  of  its  strength,  he  drops  plumb  down  to  earth. 

iu-ason  may  consist  with  faith,  yet  faith  and  reasoning  are  ever 
nntugonistic.  Faith  is  the  evidence  of  things  not  seen :  reasoning 
is  systematized  doubting,  and  demands  the  seen  evidence.  The 
provinces  of  the  two  are  conterminous,  but  have  nothing  in  common. 
And  it  is  this  intrusion  of  the  one  upon  the  other,  against  which  w"0 
are  called  to  protest.  This  deification  of  reason  is  rebellion  against 
the  divine  economy ;  and  the  grand  mission  of  Christianity  is, 
to  recall  the  world  to  faith.  It  is  indeed  matter  of  serious 
imiuiry,  whether  it  will  not  be  found  that  every  revealed  truth, 
re:isun  is  totally  incompetent,  in  any  case,  to  demonstrate;  and 
conversely,  that  whatever  reason  is  capable  of  discovering,  that 
Infinite  AVisdom  has  not  condescended  to  declare  as  a  revelation. 
We  submit  the  query. 

But  in  opposition  to  the  general  view  of  this  subject  which  wc 

have  taken,  it  will  be  asked,  Is  it  not  in  accordance  with  common 

observation  and  common  experience,  that  the  study  of  the  works  of 

creation—the  beauty  and  order  of  terrestrial  objects,  and  especially 

the  grandeiu-  of  "  the  old  rolling  heavens" — does,  indeed,  lead  us  to 

the  idea  of  a  Creator,  a  Ruler,  a  God  V    And,  for  confirmation,  it  will 

be  repeated, — "  An  undevout  astronomer  is  mad."     It  may  be,  that 

Kuch  is  the  constitution  of  the  universe,  and  such  the  relation  of  its 

parts,  that  the  emotions  of  beauty,  of  lofty  admiration  and  wonder, 

wiiich  the  contemplationof  nature  is  calculated  to  inspire — emotions  so 

nearly  akin  to  worship — should  suggest  the  idea  of  an  object  of 

worship  worthy  to  be  called  a  God.     Though  the  strongest  reasons 

could,  we  think,  be  urged  against  such  a  doctrine;  and  though  we, 

as  Christians,  who  have  this  association  from  the  earliest  dawn  of 

thought,  are  certainly  not  competent  to  test  the  question,  it  may 

be  n<lmitted  that  such  a  thing  is  possible;  and  yet,  all  this  is  apart 

from  the  question  we  are  considering,  which  is,  of  the  mere  logical 

yuluo  of  such  arguments  as  arc  addressed  to  the  pure  reason.     This, 

J'-  li'iraitted,  were  rather  the  unspoken  revelation  of  God  to  the  inner 
6oul.  ^ 

Jiut  it  will  still  be  urged,  that  the  authority  of  the  Bible  is  against 
US-  1  l.c  Apostle  is  quoted  as  laying  down,  in  his  epistle  to  the 
Komaus,  the  whole  broad  platform  of  our  systems  of  JSatural  The- 


40  Incompetence  of  Reason  [January, 

ologj.  AYe  ask  attention  to  the  passage.  He  is  saying  that  the 
heathen  "  are  without  excuse,"  "who  live  unrighteously,  for  that  they 
arc  not  left  altogether  without  a  knowledge  of  God  :  "  Because  that 
which  may  be  known  of  God,  is  manifest  to  them;  for  God  hath 
slioiucd  it  unto  the?n.^^  This  does  not  say,  that  being  in  utter  dark- 
ness they  were  capable  of  finding  the  truth  themselves,  and  that 
they  are  therefore  without  excuse.  God  halli  slioived.  How  ?  h 
is  not  said  here ;  but  we  know,  from  the  history,  how  it  was  showed 
to  Adam,  and  K oah,  and  the  patriarchs ;  and  since  that  time,  God 
hath  not  left  himself  without  a  witness  in  every  nation  :  "  For  tlie 
imnsiblc  things  of  him,  from  the  creation  of  the  world,  are  clearly 
seen,  being  understood  by  the  things  that  are  made,  even  his  eter- 
nal power  and  Godhead."  Kow,  what  is  asserted  in  these  words'? 
The  "  invisible  things  of  him,"  is  defined  by  the  subsequent  terms, 
"eternal  poAver  and  Godhead  ;"  that  is,  a  general  notion  of  a  Cre- 
ator and  Ruler,  of  superhuman,  or,  wo  may  say,  of  infinite  power. 
Avery  impeifect  notion,  certainly,  of  the  Christian's  God  :  but  thus 
far  a  God,  even  to  the  Gentiles,  in  all  their  distant  wanderings. 
And  how  ?  By  the  deductions  of  reason  V  iS'ofc  at  all.  "  From  the 
creation  of  the  world,"  is  not  to  be  understood  as  meaning  from  the 
tuorks  of  creation,  as  a  study;  but  is  said  of  thne.  "Are  clearlv 
seen,"  cannot  easil}'-  mean  has  been  discovered  by  philosophy.  The 
form  of  the  verb  indicates  the  continuative  state  of  a  fact.  A  proper 
knowledge  of  the  Greek  preposition  and  the  Greek  tenses,  totally 
confounds  the  interpretation  commonly  given  to  these  words.  The 
phrase,  "being  understood,"  can  (prite  as  little  refer  to  original  dis- 
covery. The  simple  sense,  then,  of  this  passage,  is,  that  this  God 
who  showed  himself  at  the  first,  is,  from  the  time  of  the  creation  of 
the  world  down,  still  seen,  still  vndcrstood,  at  least  in  the  more 
obvious  and  majestic  attributes  of  his  character,  hij  the  commemo- 
rative  evidence  of  these  works  of  his  hands.  Tiie  fabric  of  the 
universe  stands  as  the  imperishable  monument  of  Ins  creative  power: 
and  therefore  it  is  that  they  arc  without  c.xjcusc  ;  and  further,  are 
to  be  blamed,  for  that  they  blinded  their  eyes  to  these  manifestations 
of  his  presence.  "Because,"  the  apostle  continues,  '' ichcn  tlteu 
kneio  God,  they  glorified  him  not  as  God,  neither  were  thankful." 
There  was  a  time,  then,  when  they  did  know  him.  They  began 
with  knowledge;  but  what  was  the  issue?  "They  became  vain  in 
their  imaginations  ;"  that  is,  in  their  reasonings  and  ])hilosophic 
discussions  they  discoursed  idly,  inconsistently;  "  an<l  their  foolisli 
heart  was  darkened.''^  At  first  they  had  light — the  light  of  ancient 
tradition,  of  revelation  orally-  preserved  and  sustained  by  monu- 
mental evidence — the  darkenim^  was  a  result  of  their  ratiocinations. 


1853.]  in  Matters  of  Religion.  41' 

" Professin'T'  themselves  to  be  -wise" — philosophers  vras  the  title 
tliesc  masters  assumed — "  they  became  tools. "  Behold  a  summary 
of  tlic  ancient  schools  of  philosoph}^  on  these  subjects  of  eternal 
intere.st,  truthfully  as  it  is  concisely  done !  Bcliold  the  end  of  the 
hi"he.<t  efforts  of  human  reason  on  the  fairest  field  the  world  has 
ever  fiflered I  The  grand  conclusion  is  in  another  place  given  in  a 
word  by  the  same  masterly  hand  :  namely,  that  "  the  world  by  wis- 
dom knew  not  God."  And  if  we  would  see  the  practical  conse- 
quences of  this  degeneration  of  doctrine,  the  remainder  of  this  first 
chapter  of  the  epistle  to  the  Romans  gives  the  revolting  picture. 

]5ut  Scripture  is  profitable  for  doctrine.  AYhen  man  has  exhausted 
his  philosophy,  and  reasoned  himself  into  blank  atheism,  lie  has  but 
to  open  this  sacred  volume,  and  in  the  very  first  sentence  he  reads, 
"In  the  beginning — God  I"  The  grand  problem  is  solved,  that  a 
chikl  may  understand.  But  the  existence  of  a  God  is  assumed,  one 
may  ."^ay.  Jsut  exactly  that.  There  is  a  God,  who  sliowed  himself, 
both  in  the  beginning,  and  at  divers  times  since :  and  the  fact  is 
recorded.  We  know  it  historically.  To  claim,  therefore,  the  fact 
of  the  existence  of  a  God,  is  no  more  an  assumption  on  the  part  of 
tilt"  ])ible,  than  the  existence  of  such  a  man  as  Cicero,  or  such  a  city 
OS  Home,  is  mere  assumption  by  Plutarch.  But  it  is  not  only  on 
this  liighest  question  of  human  concern ;  on  every  inferior  point  of 
doctrine,  Scrijiture  is  likewise  profitable.  "When  the  philosopher 
has  confounded  his  intellect  about  the  origin  of  matter,  and  con- 
cludes at  last  it  must  be  eternal,  for  that  creation  is  impossible,  he 
ha.s  but  to  read  a  word  further  in  this  book  of  divine  instruction, 
and  he  learns  that  "In  the  beginning  God  created  the  heavens  and 
the  earth."  Again,  man  puzzles  himself  about  the  mode  of  this 
creation — whether  it  be  a  generation,  an  emanation,  or  a  phenom- 
enon ;  whether  it  may  not  be  tliat  life  is  a  dream,  and  matter  an 
illusion.  But  when  we  read,  "  He  spake,  and  it  was  done  ;  he  com- 
uianded,  and  it  stood  fast :" — "  Of  old  hast  thou  laid  the  foundation 
of  the  earth,  and  the  heavens  are  the  work  of  thy  hands :"  and  a 
groat  variety  of  similar  passages,  everything  wears  the  expression 
of  reaUty.  The  solid  granite  is  substance,  in  spite  of  philosophy. 
Agiii^  he  asks,  llovr,  from  elemental  matter,  the  earth  rose  into 
form,  and  received  this  variety  of  life  and  beauty :  and  how  the 
heavens  were  adorned  with  all  that  gorgeous  array  of  imagery  anti 
Celestial  splendours.  "Was  it  by  virtue  of  some  inherent  properties- 
0'  'nutter?  Was  it  by  the  fortuitous  concussion  of  iniinitesimal 
atoias  endued  with  motion  and  with  instinctive  likes  and  dishkes": 
4uto  *;uch  a  limbo. philosophy,  so  called,  would  plunge  tlie  world; 
but  we  read  here  again,  that  ""The  earth  was  without  form,  and  void; 
Fourth  Siruirs,  \o\..  Y._3 


42  Incompetence  of  Reason  [January, 

and  darkness  was  on  the  face  of  the  deep :  and  the  Spirit  of  God 
moved  vpun  the  waters  ;"  and  gradually  out  of  chaos  came  light, 
distinction,  order;  "the  mountains  rose,  and  the  rivers  fio^Yed;" 
"the  sun  and  the  moon  began  their  courses  in  the  sides;"  plants, 
animals,  and  man,  successively  appeared ;  and  all  this  by  the  fonn- 
ing  hand  of  a  present  God,  whose  care  is  over  all  his  works ;  and 
without  whose  notice  not  even  a  sparrow  falleth  to  the  ground. 
But,  it  is  asked,  Is  it  not  more  rational  to  believe  that,  b}'  the  laws 
of  nature,  without  any  further  concern  of  a  God,  these  successive 
generations  were  developed,  from  the  cr^-ptogamies  to  the  rose  and 
the  mountain  oak ;  from  the  polyp  to  the  elephant ;  from  the  frog 
through  the  monkey  up  to  man?  But  the  Bible  represents  the  dif- 
ferent orders  of  beings,  as  having  distinct  and  separate  origin  by 
the  fiat  of  the  Almighty.  It  tells  us  that,  instead  of  leaving  the 
baboon  to  civiHze  himself  into  a  man,  by  some  ine.\:plicable  process 
of  development  and  curtailment,  He  said,  "  Let  us  make  man  in  our 
image  and  after  our  likeness ;"  not  that  of  the  ape.  "  And  the 
Lord  God  formed  man  of  the  dust  of  the  earth,  and  breathed  into 
his  nostrils  the  breath  of  life  ;  and  man  became  a  living  soul."  And 
further,  as  if  to  confound  in  advance  these  schools  of  man's  wisdom, 
which  insist  that  the  diflerent  races  of  men  must  have  sprung  up 
fi-om  diflerent  soils,  it  is  recorded  that  the  command  to  this  single 
pair  wliich  he  had  created,  was,  "  Bo  fruitful,  and  multi}ily,  and  fill 
the  earth;''  and,  by  the  mouth  of  the  apostle,  ho  declared  the  grand 
historic  counterpart  to  this  command,  that  he  "hath  made  of  one 
blood  all  nations  of  men  for  to  dwell  on  all  the  face  of  the  earth." 
The  fict  is  certain,  because  given  on  the  authority  of  Omniscience. 
Philosophy,  so  far  from  being  able  to  have  discovered  it,  is  unable 
to  comprehend,  and  ready  to  reject  it ;  and  even  now,  men  Avhom 
our  couuti-y  delights  to  honour  for  their  learning,  are  endeavouring 
to  force  upon  us  their  anti-scriptural  conclusions  for  scientific  theory. 
We  are  lost  again  in  confusion  in  our  inquiries  after  the  origin  of 
evil.  Are  there  iwo  independent  principles  in  nature,  a  good  and  a 
bad,  which  contributed  to  the  production  of  the  world?  ]s  it  that 
matter  is  essentially  evil,  and  that  spirit,  in  connexion  with  matter, 
necessarily  partakes  of  its  nature  ?  Some  such  In^^othesis  is  the 
best  that  philosophy  can  do  for  us ;  but  wo  read  here,  that  v.-hen  the 
Creator  had  ended  his  Avorks,  he  pronounced  them  good,  and  it  Avas 

"  Man's  first  disobedience,  and  the  fruit 
Of  that  forljidden  tree,  -nhose  mortal  taste 
iSrought  death  into  the  world  and  all  our  woe." 

Is  this  God  revengeful,  and  of  like  passions  and   frailties  with 
man,  as  the  heathen  have  imagined ;  or  is  he  wise  and  good  ?    Rea- 


1653.]  in  Matters  of  Religion.  43 

son  has  no  answer  to  give ;  but  in  this  book,  where  he  proclaims 
his  name,  he  says,  "  The  Lord,  the  Loud  God,  merciful  and  <n-a- 
ciou?,  lon;^- suffering,  and  abundant  in  goodness  and  truth;  keeping 
mercy  for  thousands,  forgiving  iniquity,  and  transgression,  and  sin'J 
and  tliut  will  by  no  means  clear  the  guilty."     And  in  another  scene, 
tlio  liigliest  and  purest  ranks  of  created  intelligences  are  sho^^■n  as 
cisJirig  their  crowns  before  him,  and  ciying.  "H0I3',  holy,  holy,  Lord 
God  Almighty,  which  was,  and  is,  and  is  to  come ;— thou  art  worthy, 
0  Lord,  to  receive  glory,  and  honour,  and  power!"     The  dark 
problem  of  man's  destiny  and  hopes  is,  in  the  hands  of  philosophy, 
shrouded  in  still  deeper  gloom,  and  anxiously,  often  despairinirly,' 
he  asks,  "  If  a  man  die,  shall  he  live  again  V "    But  now,  "  the  Saviour^ 
.lesus  Christ,  hath  brought  life  and  immortality  to  light  through  the 
fiospcl.''     We  are  assured  that  the  God  vrho  slyles  himself  the  God 
of  Abmhrau,  of  Isaac,  and  of  Jacob,  '■  is  not  the  God  of  the  dead, 
but  of  the  living."     We  are  told  that  the  dead,  small  and  great,  shall 
Ftaiid  before  the  judgment-seat  of  Christ,  to  be  judged  acx;ording  to 
the  deeds  done  in  the  body ;  and  that  the  wicked  •'  shall  go  away  ?nto 
everlasting  punishment,  but  the  righteous  into  life  eternal  r  "'And 
60,  if  we  go  down  through  all  the  doctrines  of  practical  life,  the  Scrip- 
tures are,  in  every  sense  of  the  woixl,  profitable,  and  are  the  only 
source  of  reliable  and  authoritative  instruction.     Li  human  teach- 
ings we  are  perplexed  with  uncertainties,  and  contradictions,  and 
confusion.     Li  the  sacred  page  all  is  clear ;  all  is  plain  to  the  sim- 
plest understanding;  so  that  "ho  may  run  that  readeth  it;"  and 
"  the  w:iyfaring  men,  though  fools,  shall  not  err  therein." 

This  subject  is,  in  its  practical  bearings,  one  of  vital  importance, 
because  of  the  innate  tendencies  of  the  heart  to  turn  from  the  divine 
to  lumian  wisdom.  To  this  cause  we  are  indebted  for  every  calam- 
itous error,  and  every  grievous  heresy  that  has  afflicted  the  Church 
.rom  the  time  of  the  apostles,  and  for  every  false  theory  for  the 
•'reconstruction  of  society"  that  has  disgi'aced  the  world  from  the 
tower  of  Babel  to  the  temple  of  KauN-oo,  and  every  unchristian 
form  nf  Socialism,  from  Paris  to  the  Salt  Lake.  Nor  is  it  in  its 
general  and  historic  aspect  merely  that  it  concerns  us,  but  equally 
in  (rnr  individual  experience.  For  in  so  far  as  we  neglect  the  stud'v 
J»t  tlie  revealed  word,  and  seek  for  doctrine  in  the  conclusions  of 
I'mnnn  reason,  our  views  of  divine  things  will  be  imperfect,  defective. 
^  n-t  positively  erroneous ;  and  we  shall  find  ourselves  at  the  last 
'.5iv:iting  a  barren  faith  in  philosophy,  falsely  so  called.  We 
.  u  .y-rt  thereby  the  order  of  things  ;  we  magnify  reason  at  the  e.x- 
pnsc  of  reyolation;  we  di^honour  the  mistress,  that  we  may  exalt 
'"'"'^"^  ■'  ^^'c  ^vould  dethrone  God,  that  we  might  deif}  man 


44  The  Church  and  Asia.  [January, 

Then  only  do  we  "walk  in  the  light,"  when  we  have  a  living  faith 
in  the  inspired  Scriptures  as  the  sole  and  sufficient  teacher  in  mat- 
ters of  doctrine.  The  want  of  this  f\iith  is  tlie  great  want  of  the 
world.  The  neglect  to  cultivate  it  properly,  is  the  great  lack  in  all 
our  systems  of  Christian  education.  It  behooves  us  to  take  caution 
against  tliis  fatal  error,  before  the  allurements  of  rationalism  shall 
have  drawn  us  into  the  chilling  shades  of  doubt  and  disbelief, 
where  the  soul  feels  not  tlie  warming  and  vivifying  rays  of  evan- 
gelical Christianity.  For,  wander  as  we  may  through  the  mazes  of 
speculation,  we  must  come  back  at  last  with  the  humble  and  saving 
confession  to  the  Son  of  God — "  Thou  hast  the  words  of  eternal 
life." 


Akt.  III.-TIIE  CHURCH  AND  ASIA. 

A  Giu^NCE  at  any  ^lap  of  the  World  will  show  at  once  the  vast  extent 
of  territory  embraced  in  the  grand  division  of  the  earth's  surface 
called  Asia.  Including  the  adjacent  islands,  it  stretches  through 
eighty-eight  degrees  of  latitude,  and  one  hundred  and  sixty  degrees 
of  longitude.  Its  superficial  area  is  about  17,500,000  square  miles, 
or  nearly  as  large  as  the  Americas  and  Europe  together.*  Geo- 
graphically, the  Asiatic  continent  may  be  distributed  under  five 
divisions,  Vi-hose  boundaries  are  marked  by  prominent  physical  fea- 
tures.! 1.  The  central  table-land,  (Mongolia,  Hi,  Thibet.)  It  is 
situated  near  the  centre  of  the  continent,  having  for  its  bearers — 
north,  the  Great  Altai ;  east,  the  Manchurian  Mountains  ;  south, 
the  Himmaleh  and  Mountains  of  China ;  west,  the  Belur-ta'^,  the 
Elburz  and  the  Persian  Mountains.  2.  The  Northern  Slope,  (Si- 
beria,) extending  northward  from  the  central  table-land,  and  com- 
prising the  northern  portion  of  the  conthient.  3.  The  Eastern 
Slope,  (Manchuria  and  Corea.)  4.  The  Western  Slope,  (Persian 
Empire,  Turkestan,  Caucasian  Provinces,  and  Asiatic  Turkey.) 
5.  The  Southern  Slope,  (China  Proper,  Farther  India,  Ilindostan, 
Southern  shore  of  the  Persian  Empire,  and  Arabia.) 

The  population  of  Asia  is  immense.  It  is  startling  to  read  the 
estimates  of  reliable  authorities  on  the  subject.  Including  the 
islands  which  belong  gcogrii})hically  to  it,  the  sum  of  the  population, 
as  given  in  a  recent  work,  is  Gr.5,G4o,300.t  Making  from  this  state- 
ment a  liberal  deduction,  on  the  ground  of  its  being,  as  the  writer 
remarks,  only  "  an  approximation  to  the  truth,"  still  what  myriads 

«  Book  of  the  ■Worliji,  vol.  ii,  p.  417. 

t  M'Culloch's  Geog.  Diet.,  art.  Asia,  p.  172. 


1S53.]  The  Church  and  Asia.  45 

remain.  More  than  one-half  of  the  human  race  are  now  living  be- 
neath the  sun  of  Asia !  This  population,  according  to  Dr.  Prichard,* 
is  composed  of  seven  races,  or  families:  1.  The  Syro- Arabian ; 
including  the  S^Tians,  now  nearly  extinct;  the  Homerites,  in  Ai-abia, 
of  Avhom  little  is  kno\Yn;  the  xVrabs;  and  the  Jews  found  in  the 
northern  parts  of  India,  in  the  interior  of  ^Malabar,  in  Cochin-China, 
China  and  Tartary.  2.  Caucasian  nations  ;  divided  into,  Western, 
comprising  Circassians  and  Abassians ;  Middle,  comprising  several 
tribes ;  Eastern,  seven  tribes ;  and  Southern,  consisting  of  Imcre- 
tians,  Mingrelians,  Soani.  and  Lazians.  3.  Arians  ;  embracing  the 
Hindoos,  with  the  Siah-Posh,  and  the  natives  of  Kashmir,  shown 
by  their  languages  to  belong  to  the  Hindoo  race ;  the  Persians,  or 
Tajiks,  "  who  inhabit  not  only  the  towns  of  Persia,  but  of  Transox- 
iana,  and  all  the  countries  subject  to  the  Uzbek  Tartars ;"  the  Af- 
j:;hans,  ]5aluchi  and  Brahui,  Kurds,  ISJcstorians,  who  speak  the  Syrian 
language,  Armenians,  and  Ossotines.  4.  The  Great  iSTomadlc  races ; 
the  Cgorian,  or  Ugrian,  comprising  Finns  and  Lappes,  Tschudes, 
L-griaiis  Vogouls  of  the  Uralian  Mountains,  and  the  Ostiaks  on  the 
Obi:  the  Turkish,  comprising  the  Ouigers,  or  Eastern  Turks,  whose 
history  has  been  elucidated  by  Abel  Remusat;  and  the  Seljuki  and 
Osraanli  Turks,  known  to  European  historians ;  the  Mongolian, 
Mongoles  Kalmuks,  Bouriasts,  *fcc. ;  the  Tungusian,  in  China,  called 
Manchus ;  the  Bhotiyn,  who  inhabit  Thibet.  5.  The  Ichthyophagi, 
or  Fishing  Tribes:  the  INamolles,  Tschuk-tschi,  and  Koriaks, 
Kam.t-schatkans,  Yakugers,  Samoiedes,  and  Ainos  or  Kurilians. 
0.  Chinese  and  Indo-Chinese;  the  former  embracing  the  Chinese, 
Japanese,  and  Koreans  ;  the  latter,  the  nations  of  Farther  India  and 
adjacent  islands,  comprising,  (a)  Aborigines:  Tchampans,  Cam- 
bojans,  and  Peguans ;  (6)  More  civilized :  Anamese,  Burmese,  Si- 
amese, and  the  Laos,  orLia;  (c)  Indo-Malayan.  7.  Aborigines  of 
India;  the  Cinghalese,  embracing  all  the  inhabitants  of  Ceylon  who 
do  not  belong  to  the  Tamulian  race;  the  Tamulian,  who  inhabit 
the  northern  portion  of  Cordon  and  the  southern  part  of  the  Deccan, 
including  also  the  people  of  Tula\T  on  the  west,  the  Karnatas  in 
tlie  interior,  and  the  Telingas  on  the  eastern  side  of  the  Deccan ; 
the  Parbatiya.t  or  :\Iountaineers,  the  Bhils,  the  Khulis,  the  Ramusis, 
the  Waralis,  and  the  Katodis,  are  the  most  celebrated  tribes  in  tlie 
north-western  parts  of  the  Deccan ;  in  the  more  central  and  western 
!*art3  are  the  Gonds,  the  Pulindas,  the  Khonds,  the  Som-s,  and  tlie 
\aiiadu-Yati;  in  the  southern  portions  are  the  Thodaurs.  Bu'lda- 
gurs,  Curumbars,  and  Kathars;  also  the  Cohatars,  who  occupy  the 

"  XiUiu-al  Hist,  of  Man,  pp.  140-2.5G. 

t  Natural  Hist,  of  Man,  Appendix,  pp.  .307,  508. 


46  The  Church  and  Asia.  [January, 

summits  of  the  hills ;  lastly,  a  great  number  of  petty,  barbarous 
tribes,  betAveen  the  Indian  and  Indo-Chinese  Peninsulas;  as  the 
Ahams,  Garros,  Cachars,  Cossyahs,  Manipurs,Miris,  Abors,  Kangtis, 
and  Kagis,  or  Kukis. 

The  distribution  of  this  population  is  worthy  of  remark,  lii  the 
Northern  Slope  the  proportion  of  inhabitants  to  the  area  is  in  the 
ratio  of  1  to  a  squnre  mile ;  in  the  Central  Table-land  and  Eastern 
Slope,  it  is  10;  in  the  ^V'c3tern  Slope,  it  ranges  from  6  to  Go,  the 
minimum  occurring  in  Beloochistan,  and  the  maximum  in  the  plains 
of  xVnnenia;  in  the  Southern  Slope  it  varies  from  3,  occm-ring  in 
the  Malay  States,  to  370  in  China  Proper,  while  in  the  Danish 
colony  in  Hindostan,  it  rises  to  41G.* 

The  religions  of  Asia  are,  Brahmanisra,  (in  Hindostan,)  Budhism, 
(in  Farther  India,  China  Proper,  Central  Table-land,  Eastern  Slope, 
and  eastern  part  of  the  Northern  Slope,)  Confucianism  and  Ra- 
tionalism, (China  Proper,)  Sinto,  (Japan,)  Shamanism,  (Siberia,) 
Eetichists,  the  Sikhs,  Parsees,  etc.,  Jewish  and  corrupt  forms 
of  Christianity.  The  Brahmins  number  100,000,000;  Budhists, 
260,000,000;  Mohammedans,  155,825,000;  Confucians  and  Ra- 
tionalists, 67,000,000  ;  sect  of  Sinto,  25,000,000 ;  Eetichists,  50,000  ; 
Shamans,  50,000,000;  Sikhs,  Parsees,  &c.,  5,000,000;  Jews,  800,000; 
Christian  sects,  2,005,000.t 

For  our  present  purposes,  the  languages  of  Asia  maybe  arranged 
in  four  great  families:  1.  The  Indo-European,  sometimes  termed 
Indo- Germanic,  frequently  Japetic,  and  by  late  writers,  Arian,  or 
Iranian ;  comprising  the  languages  of  Hindostan,  Persian  Empire, 
Turkestan,  and  the  Caucasian  Provinces.  2.  Syro-Arabian,  often 
termed  the  Semitic;  embracing  the  languages  of  Arabia,  S}Tia, 
Asia-Minor,  and  of  the  aborigines  of  Palestine.  3.  Languages  of  the 
Central  Table-land,  Eastern  and  Northern  Slopes,  called  Turanian, 
and  by  Dr.  Prichard,  Ugro-Tartarian.  4.  The  INIonosyllabic  and 
uninflccted  languages,  as  the  Chinese  and  Indo- Chinese.!  The 
precise  number  of  languages  and  dialects  spoken  in  Asia,  it  is  at 
present  impossible  to  determine.  AVhat  we  have  written,  however, 
in  reference  to  the  population  of  Asia,  suggests  that  it  must  be 
almost  infinite.  In  Hindostan,  it  is  stated  there  are  ihirt/j  distinct 
languages.§  In  Farther  India,  a  great  number  of  languages  and 
dialects  prevail ;  the  same  remark  applies  to  the  nations  of  the  Cen- 
tral Table-land,  Eastern  and  Northern  Slopes;  Avhile  in  Western 
Asia,  we  find  many  dialects  of  the  Arabic,  Persian,  Syrian,  and 

°  Book  of  the  Workl,  vol.  ii,  p.  417.  j  Book  of  the  Workl,  vol.  ii,  p.  097. 

I  Edinburgh  Review,  No.  178,  art.  Ethnolofry  :  republished  in  the  Eclectic  Maga- 
zine, New-York,  vol.  xvi,  p.  5u.  g  M'CuUoch's  Geog.  Diet.,  art.  Hindostan. 


1853.3  The  Church  and  Asia.  47 

Caucasian  languages.     In  China  tlicre  are  three  great  dialects,  from 
which  bi-anch  off  innumerable  varieties  of  pronunciation.* 

We  conic  now  to  notice  the  present  openings  and  encouragements, 
diflioultics  and  wants  of  Asia,  as  a  mission  field. 

'J'hc  assertion  would  to  many  seem  like  mockery,  were  we  to 
declare  that  the  whole  of  Asia  is  now  open  to  the  Church.  And 
y«-t  iiow  nearly  would  such  a  statement  be  sustained  by  facts.  We 
are  assured,  that  were  the  Church  now  filled  with  the  spirit  of  the 
early  Christians,  the  statement  would  be  true  in  its  fullest  extent. 
Ikt  let  us  examine  the  point.  Starting  from  the  Bosphorus,  Asiatic 
Turkey,  Persia,  ITindostan,  Ceylon,  and  other  islands  of  the  Indian 
Archipelago,  Farther  India,  Loo-Choo,  and  the  consular  ports  of 
China,  have  already  been  occupied  by  the  Church.  Arabia,  if  we 
except  Aden,  is  without  a  mission-station;  but  the  only  difficulties, 
so  far  as  the  country  is  concerned,  are  its  deserts  and  the  roving 
character  of  its  tribes.  We  know  of  nothing  else,  either  in  its 
people  or  governments,  to  intimidate  the  Church  in  her  efforts  for 
its  evangelization.  AVithin  the  Central  Table-land  and  Eastern 
Slope,  no  mission  has  been  established ;  and  yet  we  are  not  aware 
of  any  really  formidable. difficulty  in  the  way  of  so  desirable  a  move- 
ment. In  Siberia,  promising  missions  were  commenced  some  years 
since  ;  but  the  last  one  was  given  up  in  1840  :  the  reasons  assigned 
being,  the  opposition  of  the  Ilusso- Greek  Church  and  the  unsettled 
habits  of  the  people.f  We  feci  satisfied,  however,  that  vigorous 
efforts  to  send  the  gospel  to  this  the  greatest  plain  in  the  world, 
would  be  eminently  successful.  Japan  is  the  only  country  present- 
ing really  formidable  difficulties  to  the  Church ;  and  even  there  light 
is  dawning.  The  Loo-Choo  Islands  are  intimately  connected  with 
Japan,  and  there  a  missionary  has  been  labouring  for  several  years. 
Wc  wderstand,  too,  that  the  "Is'aval  Missionary  Society"  is  about 
to  reinforce  the  mission  in  Loo-Choo.  China  exerts  a  powerful 
influence  over  the  people  and  government  of  that  insular  empire ; 
and  at  Hong  Kong  and  the  consular  ports,  large  missions  are  in 
active  operation.  Large  fleets  of  American  and  English  Avhaling- 
vessels  are  constantly  floating  in  her  seas,  and  looking  in  upon  her 
shores.  At  this  time  the  United  States  East  India  squadron  is 
about  sailing  from  China  to  Japan,  in  the  hope  of  forming  with  its 
govonnncnt  a  treaty  of  friendship  and  commerce. 

'i  he  population  of  those  countries  to  which  the  Chiuxh  now  ha.- 
n'-;«-s3.  is  more  than  550,000,000  ;t  while  that  of  the  countries  in 
wuich  there  are  no  missions,  is  only  a  little  over  G5,000,000.     Again. 
°  ^''.l.lle  Kin-,]oui,  vol.  i,  p.  SS.  +  Miss.  Guide-Book,  pp.  9.S-104. 

X  See  Book  of  the  WorM,  vol.  ii,  p.  417. 


48  The  Church  and  Asia.  [January, 

the  positions  now  occupied  by  the  Church,  are  the  sahent  points  of 
the  continent.  From  Western  Asia  the  gospel  ^vill  pass  easily ; 
southward,  to  Arabia ;  east,  to  Afghanistan  and  Beloochistan ;  north, 
to  Turkestan ;  and  omvard  to  the  western  Steppes  of  Siberia.  The 
stations  in  Ilindostan  command  that  vast  peninsula ;  so  with  the 
stations  in  Farther  India ;  while,  from  China,  the  way  is  direct  and 
open  to  the  Mongol  tribes  of  the  Table-land,  the  Tungusians  of  the 
Eastern  Slope,  and  northward  to  the  southern  and  eastern  portions 
of  the  great  northern  Plain. 

We  observe  further,  that  in  some  of  these  countries  the  profession 
of  Christianity  exposes  the  native  convert  to  no  legalized  perse- 
cution; in  others  it  is  shielded  by  the  laws  of  the  land;  while  in 
none  are  the  converts  subjected  to  trials  greater  than  those  endured 
by  the  primitive  Christians.  The  work  of  conversion  is  going  for- 
ward most  cheeringly.  In  Asiatic  Turkey,  Persia,  Ilindostan,  Cey- 
lon, Burmah,  Siam,  and  China,  native  Christian  congregations  have 
been  gathered ;  and  churches  for  the  worship  of  God,  rise  where 
once  stood  the  gorgeous  temples  of  heathenism. 

From  these  facts  we  feel  prepared  to  say,  first,  that  the  Church 
has  no  warrant  or  justification  in  withholding  from  the  work  of  evan- 
gelizing Asia,  the  least  moiety  of  her  resources  on  the  ground  that 
the  country  is  not  open  ;  and,  secondly,  that  for  the  full  and  efficient 
operation  of  all  the  resources  of  the  Church,  Asia  is  open. 

The  existence  of  ancient,  though  corrupt  forms  of  Christianity, 
in  many  parts  of  Asia,  is  a  promising  indication  in  reference  to 
our  subject.  The  Maronites  occupy  the  steeps  of  Lebanon;  the 
Jacobites  reside  in  Syria,  and  near  the  Tigris ;  the  Armenians,  in 
Tm-key  and  Persia;  the  Nestorians  are  scattered  over  Armenia, 
Mesopotamia,  parts  of  Persia  and  India;  the  Greek  Church  extends 
through  the  districts  of  Aleppo,  Damascus,  and  Jerusalem ;  while 
the  Russo- Greek  Clmrch  is  established  tli^'oughout  the  towns  and 
military  posts  of  Siberia."-  Were  the  Spirit  now  poured  upon  these 
Churches,  what  a  light  would  rise  on  Asia  I  This  blessed  work  has, 
indeed,  commenced.  Among  the  Armenians  and  Xestorians,  in 
connexion  with  the  missions  of  the  American  Board,  a  glorious 
awakening  is  going  forward.  The  work  will,  doubtless,  advance 
until  all  these  sects,  scattered  as  they  are  from  Jerusalem  to  Ok- 
hotsk, shall  awake  to  a  new  spiritual  life. 

The  profound  peace  now  reigning  throughout  the  eastern  conti- 
nent, is  highly  favourable  to-  the  spread  of  Christianity.  The  fierce 
nomadic  tribes  of  the  Central  Table-land,  no  longer  pour  from  their 
mountain-fastnesses  to  scourge  tlie  nations.  The  ?»Iongols,  "  whose 
=■' Miss.  Guide-Book,  pp.  71-78. 


1853.]  The  Church  and  Asia.  .    49 

rapid  conquests,"  says  Gibbon,  "  may  bo  compared  with  the  prim- 
itive convulsions  of  nature  which  have  agitated  and  altered  the  sur- 
face of  the  globe,"  now  quietly  pitch  their  tents  near  the  sources  of 
the  Amour,  the  Hoang-Ho,  and  the  Indus,  or  beneath  the  shadows 
of  the  Altai  and  the  Thean-Shang.  The  Manchus  rest  in  their  up- 
land home,  or  on  the  rich  plains  of  China,  from  the  peril  and  glory 
of  conquest.  No  Nadir  Shah,  or  Hyder-Ali,  leads  on  his  fiery  hosts 
to  the  shock  of  battle  and  the  sack  of  cities.  All  is  quiet.  Man, 
weary  of  conflicts,  seems  waiting  for  the  response  of  an  Oracle, 
higher,  purer,  more  authoritative,  than  those  of  earth." 

Those  conversant  with  xVsia  have  not  fiiiled  to  recognise,  in  the 
effete  character  of  its  superstitions,  an  auspicious  omen  for  the  gospel. 
We  are  far  from  believing  that  heathenism  has  lost  all  its  power 
over  the  mind  of  Asia.  Magnificent  temples,  glittering  pagodas, 
and  pompous  ceremonies,  mark  its  sway.  The  systems,  however, 
have  grown  old.  Erahmanism  still  rales  in  Hindostan ;  but  the 
vigoiu-  of  its  manhood  is  now  yielding  to  the  decrepitude  of  age. 
Budhism,  with  its  "  vain  repetitions "  and  senseless  mummeries, 
still  exerts  a  wide  influence ;  but  progi^ess  has  ceased,  and  its  ener- 
gies are  expended  in  maintaining  its  present  position.  Confucianism 
does  not  even  profess  to  meet  the  great  moral  wants  of  man.  There 
arc  in  it  dignified  formalism  and  heartless  scepticism,  but  no  salva- 
tion from  sin.  Even  the  precepts  of  the  Koran  have  ceased  to  goad 
ou  to  wild  battling  the  hearts  of  the  faithful.  AVe  note,  too,°the 
absence  of  any  rising  religious  sect,  the  novelty  of  whose  doctrines 
might  engross  public  attention,  and  the  reckless  zeal  of  whose  vota- 
ries might  fill  the  continent  with  the  tramp  of  hostile  legions  and 
the  clash  of  arms.  There  exist  everywhere  in  Asia  the  choicest 
materials  fur  the  wily  priest,  or  daring  chieftain.  That  upon  such 
a  field  no  impostor  is  permitted  to  enter,  while  toward  its  thronging 
hosts  the  hearts  of  Christians  now  strongly  turn,  seems  to  indicate 
that  its  long  night  of  heathenism  is  about'to  yield  to  the  light  of  the 
gospel. 

Tlie  recent  improvements  in  ocean  navigation  and  the  surprising 
growth  of  commerce,  tending,  as  they  do,  to  unite  and  socialize  the 
nations  of  the  earth,  furnish  a  strong  incentive  to  the  Church. 
Powerful  steamers  have  brought  the  farthest  coast  of  Asia  within  a 
ft-'w  weeks  of  Em-ope  and  America.  The  same  line  connects  the 
v^  hc-lo  southern  sea-board  of  Asia,  from  Suez  to  Shanghai.  A  branch 
UMit..s  Bombay  and  Australia  :  and  from  present  indications  we  infer 

\  T  ?>  ^  •"^•^'  ^'''^^  ^^'^^"^'  ^^^^^"^^  S^=^^^^s  steamers  will  bring  A.=ia 
aii'Uhe  Vucific  coast  of  North  America  within  a  few  days  of  each 
tether.     The  intercourse,  commercial  and  otherwise,  between  Chris- 


50  The  Church  and  Asia.  [January, 

tendom  and  Asia,  is  annually  increasing.  Merchants  of  every  civil- 
ized nation  receive  their  richest  argosies  from  these  seas.  The 
statistics  of  trade  show  "with  Tvhat  spirit  and  success  the  enterprise 
of  Avcstcrn  nations  is  directed  to  the  east ;  and  the  boundless  re- 
sources of  the  Orient  indicate  that  to  this  enterprise  no  limits  can, 
at  present,  be  prescribed.  Christian  science  receives,  through 
travellers  and  others,  large  and  valuable  contributions  from 
Asia.  Its  animal,  mineral,  and  vegetable  kingdoms,  attract  the 
attention  of  the  vrorld  ;  and  the  ancient  ruins,  recently  discovered  on 
its  plains,  are  elucidating  Bible  history.  The  Dutch  and  Spanish 
possess  valuable  islands  near  its  southern  coast.  European  colonies 
stud  its  border  from  Aden  to  Hong  Kong.  Within  the  limits  of 
Hindostan,  the  Danes,  Portuguese,  and  French  have  colonial  pos- 
sessions ;  while  the  empire  of  British  India  covers  an  area  of 
more  than  1,000,000  square  miles,  and  contains  a  population  of 
120,000,000.* 

The  events  of  the  last  half-century,  are  full  of  encouraiTo- 
ment.  The  Church  has  made  rapid  advances  in  spirituality; 
the  missionary  spirit  has  largely  revived,  and  the  success  with 
which  missionary  operations  have  been  crowned,  is  most  grati- 
fying. The  frequent  and  stunning  blows  which  the  Papal  power 
has  received,  indicate  -that  the  fall  of  Antichrist  is  at  hand.  The 
political  aspect  of  the  world  at  the  present  time,  is  deeply  interest- 
ing. The  Ottoman  power,  so  ten-ible  in  story,  is  now  moulded 
and  directed  by  the  sentiments  of  Christian  nations  ;  and  the  domin- 
ions of  the  Porte,  forming  as  they  do  the  connecting  bond  between 
Christendom  and  pagan  countries,  owe,  in  a  great  measure,  their 
continued  existence  to  European  diplomacy.!  On  the  posses- 
sions of  Protestant  England  the  sun  never  sets,  and  her  langua'^e 
now  girdles  the  globe.  The  Pacific  coast  of  North  America, 
almost  within  hail  of  Asia,  is  gathering  on  its  soil  people  out 
of  every  nation  under  heaven.  Observe,  too,  the  present  social 
condition  of  Europe.  What  mean  those  frequent  and  violent  up- 
heavings  of  society  in  tliose  old  kingdoms'?  The  signs  of  the  times 
indicate,  we  think,  the  approach  of  some  groat  event.  To  many 
Christians  they  proclaim  that  "the  heathen  and  the  uttermost  parts 
of  the  earth,"  as  promised  in  the  covenant  of  redemption,  are  soon 
to  be  given  to  the  Son  for  his  inheritance  and  possession. 

We  need  scarcely  remind  the  Church  that  she  must  grapple 
with  difiicultics  in  her  CiTorts  for  the  evangelization  of  Asia.  The 
first  we  shall  notice,  is  suggested  by  what  we  have  already  written 

''  Book  of  tlie  Workl,  vol.  ii,  p.  417. 

t  Dr.  Durbiu's  Observations  in  the  East,  vol.  i,  p.  343. 


1853.J  The  Church  and  Asia.  51 

in  reference  to  its  territory  and  population.  To  occupy  so  vast  a 
field,  to  preach  the  gospel  to  such  multitudes,  is  a  work  requiring 
the  lar"est  resources.  In  comparison  with  it,  how  sink  the  proudest 
achieveuicnts  of  earth !  With  those  Avho  regard  only  the  human 
instrumentality  employed,  the  magnitude  of  the  result  contemplated 
may  stamp  the  present  missionary  efforts  of  the  Church  with  enthu- 
siasm, or  something  worse.  We  have  no  vrish  to  conceal,  in  the 
iilightest  degree,  the  greatness  of  the  enterprise.  Let  it  go  out  before 
the  world ;  let  it  possess  the  mind  of  every  Chi-istian  that  the  Church 
is  now  attempting  the  spiiitual  conquest  of  all  Asia.  Were  the 
Church  fully  to  apprehend  her  grand  commission,  and  Christians 
brought  to  feel  a  personal  responsibility  in  regard  to  it,  the  battle 
would  be  half-fought.  We  cannot  doubt  either  the  duty  of  the 
Church,  in  reference  to  Asia,  or  her  ability  to  perform  it.  It  is  not 
the  magnitude  of  the  work,  but  the  indifference  of  Christians,  that 
constitutes  the  difficulty.  Acting  under  her  great  Head,  and  armed 
witli  the  might  of  the  Spirit,  the  Church  is  not  only  invincible,  but 
irresistible  in  the  accomplishment  of  her  sublime  destiny.  Assured 
of  final  triumph,  and  that  every  true  effort  goes  to  produce  and 
make  up  the  grand  result,  why  should  the  magnitude  of  the  enter- 
prise intimidate  Christians  ?  The  spirit  is  craven  that  shrinks  from 
toil  where  duty  leads  the  way ;  and  the  humility  is  false  that  would 
lower  the  aim,  or  weaken  the  faith  of  the  Church  in  this  stern  con- 
flict. We  would  have  the  grandeur  of  this  enterprise  fill  every 
heart.  Discuss  it  in  every  social  circle ;  teach  it  in  every  Sunda}'- 
school ;  proclaim  it  from  every  pulpit ;  blazon  it  on  every  banner, 
till  "the  conquest  of  all  Asia"  becomes,  to  the  gathering  tribes  of 
our  Israel,  at  once  the  watchword  and  the  talisman  of  victory. 

The  great  number  of  languages  and  dialects  spoken  in  Asia,  pre- 
sents another  difficulty.  Here,  too,  we  wish  the  whole  truth  to  be- 
known.  We  would  it  were  shouted  from  the  heavens,  that  the  va- 
rieties of  human  speech  found  in  Asia  baffle  and  defy  the  present 
classifications  of  science ;  but  then,  we  would  have  another  voice 
declare  the  number  of  sin-ruined,  redeemed,  immortal  beings,  by 
whom  these  languages  and  dialects  are  spoken.  Let  the  two  state- 
ments go  together,  and  we  have  no  fear  as  to  the  result.  The  one 
may  amuse  the  sceptic,  or  sooth  the  conscience  of  the  faithless 
Cliriscian;  but  the  other  will  enlist  the  active  sympathies  of  the 
Church,  as  it  has  moved  the  compassion  of  God.  Lut  let  us  e.\-- 
amiue  the  point.  Each  variety  of  speech  found  in  Asia,  is  th.e  vor- 
ria.:ular  of  thousands  of  our  race.  It  is  the  medium  for  transuiitting 
thought  and  feeling  to  distinct  tribes  or  nations.  The  smallest  of 
thc^o  clans  would  afford  an  ample  field  for  the  hfe-labours  of  scores 


52  The  Church  and-  Asia.  [January, 

of  missionaries.  Tbis,  then,  wliilc  there  may  be  in  Asia  an  almost 
infinite  variety  of  languages  and  dialects,  yet  in  the  department  to 
which  each  missionary  goes,  there  is  only  one.  We  are  a'ware  that 
in  the  same  locality,  as  in  large  cities,  different  dialects,  and  even 
languages,  may  exist ;  but  we  mean  to  say,  that  the  ability  to  use 
any  one  of  these  forms  of  speech,  ^yill  introduce  scores  of  mission- 
aries to  an  amount  of  population  sufficient  to  engross  their  whole 
time  and  energies.  It  matters  not,  then,  so  far  as  the  work  of  the 
Church  is  concerned,  whether  there  are  in  Asia  one  or  a  thousand 
varieties  of  speech. 

And  then  the  gospel  is  self-propagating.  It  is  the  "  grain  of 
mustard-seed,"  which,  when  sown,  becomes  "the  greatest  of  all 
herbs ;"  the  "  leaven,"  which,  when  "  hid  in  three  measures  of  meal," 
leavened  the  whole.  The  message  of  the  missionary  in  Asia  will 
be  like  the  voice  of  the  traveller  among  the  heights  'of  the  Him- 
maleh,  starting  a  thousand  echoes  ;  or  like  the  banyan  of  its  plains, 
from  whose  parent  boughs  there  strike  down  innumerable  tendrils 
which  grow  up  into  fresh  trmiks,  from  whose  branches  other  tendrils 
"will  spring.  The  history  of  missions  confirms  the  legitimate  ex- 
pectations of  the  Church  on  this  subject.  AVherever  the  gospel  has 
been  perseveringly  preached,  there  have  been  raised  up  native 
helpers,  through  whom  the  word  of  life  has  come  to  multitudes  be- 
yond the  direct  influence  of  the  missionary. 

Still  another  difficulty  exists.  As  the  Church  looks  over  Asia, 
she  finds  it  wholly  in  the  possession  of  the  enemy.  The  crescent 
of  the  false  prophet  gleams  from  the  Golden  Horn  to  the  Indus; 
from  the  Strait  of  Eabclmandel,  to  the  cold  waters  of  the  Baltic. 
The  praises  of  Brahma  are  hymned  throughout  Ilindostan.  The 
tenets  of  Budhism  are  enshrined  throughout  Farther  India,  the 
Central  Table-land,  and  Eastern  Slope ;  v.hile  with  Confucianism 
and  Eationalism,  they  share  the  mind  of  China.  In  the  I>[orthem 
Plain,  the  number  and  intense  mixture  of  religions  present  a  verv 
Babel  of  confusion.  Each  of  these  forms  of  heathenism  commends 
itself  to  the  depraved  heart  by  flattering  its  pride  or  gratifying  its 
passions.  The  fierce  Arab,  the  dreamy  Tm-k,  the  treacherous  Per- 
sian, and  the  wild  Afghan,  alike  sanctity  their  crimes  by  the  teach- 
ings of  the  Koran.  The  Hindoo  finds  both  the  apology  and  example 
for  his  vices  in  the  mythology  of  his  race :  while  to  the  proud  Chi- 
nese, what  so  grateful  as  the  stoical  apothegms  of  Confucius,  or  the 
rationalistic  paradoxes  of  Leau-Tsz?  Heathenism  is  strongly 
intrenched  throughout  Asia.  Its  origin  dates  far  back  in  the  mar- 
vellous past.  The  legends  of  its  gods  fonn  the  first  history  of  these 
nations.    Its  teachings  are  lisped  by  the  infant,  studied  by  the 


IS53.]  The  Church  and  Asia.  53 

aspiring  youth,  sung  in  the  fiery  rhapsodies  of  the  poet,  embodied 
in  tlie  loftiest  conceptions  of  the  philosopher,  and  imaged  forth  in 
the  gorgeous  ti-appings  of  state-pageantry.  But  for  even  this  foe, 
there  is  a  conqueror.  The  vaunting  heathenism  of  Asia  shall  quail 
and  perish  before  that  gospel  in  Avhose  presence  have  crumbled  the 
temj^les  of  Greece  and  Rome,  the  Druidical  altars  of  Britain,  and 
the  savage  idols  of  the  South  Seas. 

Tiie  climate  of  Asia  presents  no  difficulty  sufficient  to  intimidate 
the  Church.  i^Ieteorological  statistics  establish  its  general  salubrity. 
Some  have  supposed  that  the  roving  habits  of  many  of  the  xVsiatic 
tribes  form  an  impassable  barrier  to  their  evangelization.  That  it 
is  a  difficulty,  we  admit ;  but  that  it  is  insurmomitable,  -we  wholly 
deny.  Well-directed,  persevering  efforts  vrill  reach  and  influence 
the-  Bedouin  of  Arabia,  or  the  Mongol  of  the  high  table-land.  iVud 
then,  Avhen  •\yill  the  climate  change  ?  or  when,  under  heathen  iu- 
ilueuccs,  Avill  these  tribes  cease  to  wander?  Never!  Their  charac- 
ter, in  this  respect,  is  as  fixed  as  the  foundations  of  their  mountain 
j-angcs,  and  the  climate  as  changeless  as  the  heavens  that  beam  dovrn 
on  their  plains.  Government  jealousy  and  restrictions,  in  certain 
parts  of  Asia,  seem  to  stand  in  the  way  of  the  Chui-ch.  We  have 
already  noticed  this  subject  in  the  course  of  this  article,  and  have 
stated  the  general  result.  It  is  a  "vain  thing"  that  "  the  kings  of 
tijc  earth  set  themselves,  and  the  rulers  take  counsel  together,  against 
the  Lord  and  against  his  Anointed  ....  He  that  sit fcth  in  the  heav- 
ens shall  laugh;  the  Lord  shall  have  them  in  dcrisioJiJ' 

It  is  difficult  to  apprehend  the  moral  condition,  and  appreciate 
the  icants  of  the  Asiatic  nations.  The  glowing  nan-atives  of  early 
tmvcUcrs,  the  speculations  of  modern  infidels,  and  the  oriental 
imagery  interwoven  with  the  strains  of  our  best  poets,  have,  in  a 
degree,  preoccupied  and  intoxicated  the  public  mind.  Oriental 
literature  has  been  with  many  writers  the  object  of  the  most  ful- 
some admiration.  Its  philosophy  and  poetry  have  been  lauded  in 
the  most  rapturous  terms ;  and  its  systems  of  chronology  have  been 
thought  at  once  to  contradict  and  overthrow  the  teachings  of  the 
Bible.  'J'he  time  for  such  rhapsodizing  is  passing  away.  The  re- 
cent researches  of  oriental  scholars  arc  correcting  existing  errors 
on  the  subject.  The  marvellous  character  and  vaunting  pretensions 
of  eastern  literature  vanish  like  the  mirage  of  the  desert,  leaving  to 
l.!0  weary  student  only  barren  sands  and  scorching  heat.  '"The 
niinosc  literature,"  says  Abel-llemusat,  "  is,  incontestably,  the  first 
in  Asia,  in  respect  of  the  number,  the  importance,  and  the  authen- 
ticity of  it.-<  monuments."*  And  yet  authentic  Chinese  history  dates 
®  Book  of  the  World,  vol.  ii,  p.  538. 


54  The  Church  and  Asia.  [January, 

back  no  farther  than  about  B.  C.  1000.*  Sir  John  Davis  remarks, 
that  "  the  Chinese  set  no  vakic  on  abstract  science,  apart  from  some 
obvious  and  immediate  end  of  utility  ;"  and  he  justly  compares  the 
actual  state  of  the  sciences  among  them  with  their  condition  in 
Europe  previous  to  the  adoption  of  the  inductive  mode  of  investi- 
gation.! "  Perhaps,"  says  Dr.  Williams,  "  the  rapid  advances  made 
by  Europeans,  during  the  last  two  centuries,  in  the  investigation  of 
nature  in  all  her  departments  and  powers,  have  made  us  somewhat 
impatient  of  such  a  parade  of  nonsense  as  Chinese  books  exhibit."' 
.....  "In  addition  to  the  general  inferiority  of  Chinese  mind  to 
European,  in  genius  and  imagination,  it  has  moreover  been  hamp- 
ered by  a  language  the  most  tedious  and  meagre  of  all  tongues, 
and  wearied  with  a  literature  abounding  in  tiresome  repetitions  and 
unsatisfactory  theories.  Under  these  conditions,  science,  either 
mathematical,  physical,  or  natural,  has  made  few  advances,  and  is 
now  making  none."|  The  Indian  and  Chinese  systems  of  chro- 
nology, which  far  antedate  the  systems  based  on  the  Pentateuch, 
are  now  exploded ;  henceforth  to  be  classed  with  the  fabulous 
records  of  the  Aztecs,  or  the  grandiloquent  antiquarian  legends  of 
the  kings  of  Timbuctoo.§ 

The  social  condition,  too,  of  these  nations  has  been  strangely  mis- 
understood. ;Many  who  sympathize  not  with  Christianity,  have 
drawn  cnclKuiting  pictures  of  their  prhnitive  simplicity  and  inno- 
cence ;  while  thou.sands  of  Christians,  though  discreditiu'i-  such 
statements,  luive  suffered  themselves  to  be  lulled  into  most  culpable 
apathy  in  reference  to  them.  I'\>r  full  information  on  this  point, 
we  must  refer  our  readers  to  the  works  already  named  in  this  arti- 
cle, and  to  others  of  a  similar  character ;  wc  can  only  notice  a  few 
features  of  the  dark  picture.  As  to  physical  comforts,  the  wealthy 
few  enjoy  a  barbaric  profusion,  while  the  great  masses  struggle  with 
poverty  and  suffering  in  their  must  terrible  forms.  Those  born  to 
titles  and  honours,  have  the  advantages  of  a  rude,  unsatisfictory 
education,  while  the  people  are  consigned  to  hopeless  ignorance. 
The  family  institution,  as  it  exists  and  blesses  society  in  Christian 
lands,  is  here  unknown.  \Voman  is  incarcerated  in  the  hiirem, 
doomed  to  a  seclusion  scarcely  less  cruel  in  her  domestic  relations ; 
or,  despite  her  gentler  nature,  driven  forth  to  the  streets  and  fields, 
"  hewers  of  wood  and  drawers  of  water" — the  bm-den-bearers  of  na- 
tions.    Crimes  and  vices,  which  in  Christian  society  skulk  in  dark- 

'^  Davis's  History  of  China,  (TIarpei-'s  edition,)  vol.  i,  p.  1^1. 
t  History  of  Cliina,  vol.  ii,  p.  'I'yl.  t  MiiUllc  KinjriJom,  vol.  ii,  p.  145. 

§  Book  of  the  W'orhl,  vol.  ii,  p.  -192.     Hist.  British  India,  vol.  ii,  pp.  208-212. 
Middle  Kingdom,  vol.  ii,  pp.  193-210. 


1853.]  TJie  Church  and  Asia.  55 

ness  and  secrecy,  here  stalk  abroad,  with  gaudy  blandishments,  at 
noonday.  Among  the  religious  duties  of  the  Hindoo,  are  begging, 
pilgrimages, penance  and  self-torture,  suicide,  the  suttee,  and  infant- 
icide.^ What  a  ca.talogue !  And  this,  too,  in  India  !  "  The  worship 
and  services  paid  to  the  Hindoo  deities,"  says  a  late  writer,  "  are, 
gencrall}'  speaking,  irrational,  unmeaning,  and  often  immoral.  They 
include  no  provision  for  instructing  the  people  in  the  duties  of  life, 
or  even  in  Avhat  is  supposed  to  be  divine  truth."t 

For  the  evils  existing  in  society,  heathenism  furnishes  no  remedy. 
Its  borrowed  truth  is  paralyzed  by  the  coiTuption  in  wliich  it  lies 
imbedded.  The  experiment  has  been  tried  for  centuries,  and  has 
wholly  failed.  Such  must  ever  be  the  result.  Heathenism  knows 
not  the  truth,  shuns  it,  hates  it,  is  in  itself  profoundly  false — a 
stupendous  lie.  But  heathenism  has  not  simply  failed  to  cure 
existing  evils ;  it  has  ruined  souls,  for  multitude  like  the  stars  of 
heaven.  For  thousands  of  years,  the  successive  generations  of  Asia 
have  trusted  in  it  for  eternal  life ;  and  it  has  given  them  eternal 
death.  Theorize  as  we  may,  there  still  remains  the  overwhelmiug 
truth,  that  these  countless  hosts  are  passing  from  the  gloom  and 
despair  of  heathenism  to  the  deeper  gloom  and  fiercer  despair  of 
hell. 

From  the  recent  reports  of  the  various  societies  sustaining  mis- 
sions in  Asia,  we  ascertain  that  the  number  of  Protestant  mission- 
aries labouring  within  its  limits,  is  about  six  hundred.  Distributing 
these  among  the  entire  population,  we  have  one  missionary  to  a 
population  of  one  million  ninety-four  thousand  four  hundred  and 
live.  Omitting  the  Japanese  empire,  and  all  of  Cliina  Proper,  ex- 
cept the  consular  ports,  Ave  have  one  missionary  to  a  population  of 
four  liundred  and  forty-six  thousand  and  seventy-two.  Finally, 
counting  the  population  of  only  those  countries  in  which  the  Church 
now  has  missions,  we  have  one  missionary  to  a  population  of  three 
hundred  and  thirty- eight  thousand  eight  hundred  and  thirty- eight. 
In  Arabia,  with  a  population  of  ten  millions,  there  is  only  one  mis- 
sionary, (at  Aden.)  From  the  Sea  of  Aral,  across  the  table-lands 
of  Asia  to  Japan,  a  sweep  of  more  than  three  thousand  miles,  with 
a  population,  including  Japan,  of  about  eighty  millions,  not  a  Prot- 
estant missionary  can  be  found.  In  the  jSorthcrn  Plain,  comprising 
a  population  of  nearly  four  millions,  there  is  no  Protestant  mission- 
firy.  So  with  Afghanistan  and  Beloochistan  ;  while  in  China  Proper. 
with  a  population  (exclusive  of  the  consular  ports)  of  more  than 
three  liundred  and  fifty  milHons,  there  has  never  been  a  Protestant 
mission  established. 

-'  Hiut.  Brit.  India,  vol.  ii,  pp.  228-233.        t  Hist.  Brit.  India,  vol.  ii,  p.  228. 


56  The  Church  and  Asia.  [January, 

No  part  of  Asia  lias  presented  such  favourable  openings  to  the 
Church,  or  has  received  so  many  missionaries,  as  India ;  and  yet 
observe  what  a  dearth  of  labourers  even  there.  Erom  ]Madras,  south- 
ward, along  the  sea-board,  for  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles,  there  is 
only  one  missionary.  At  Combaconum,  "a  city  of  pagodas,"  there 
are  only  two  missionaries.  In  the  great  city  of  Tanjore,  there  is  only 
one  missionary.  At  Scringham,  where  there  is  the  largest  heathen 
temple  in  the  world,  there  is  no  missionary.  At  Manargoody,  "  where 
there  are  one  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  idolaters,  and  Avhere  the 
heathen  population  appear  to  spread  out  endlessly,"  there  is  one  mis- 
sionary. "  ]n  the  Presidency  of  Bengal  I  entered  one  province,  with  a 
million  of  inhabitants,  and  asked.  Who  is  the  missionary  hero?  There 
was  none  at  all.  In  another,  with  two  millions  of  people,  I  asked, 
"Who  is  the  missionary  here  ?  None  at  all.  I  went  to  another,  and 
another,  and  another,  containing  equal  numbers  of  people,  and  found 
no  missionary  at  all.  In  the  Province  of  Oude,  containing  three 
millions  of  inhabitants,  there  is  no  missionary.  In  the  fertile 
Province  of  Rohulcund,  where  there  is  a  population  of  four  millions, 
I  asked.  Who  is  the  missionary  here  ?  Never  was  there  a  mission- 
ary at  all.  And  yet  India  is  well-nigh  evangelized !  The  thing 
to  me  is  most  shocking  and  monstrous."* 

We  have  now  noticed  the  points  proposed  in  the  present  article. 
With  such  a  field  before  her,  is  it  a  time  for  the  Church  to  indulge 
in  enervating  sloth  and  pampering  luxury ;  or  to  amuse  herself  with 
feats  of  intellectual  gladiatorshipV  If  God's  word  is  not  a  lie,  if 
the  present  signs  of  the  times  are  not  the  illusions  of  the  magician, 
if  the  piercing  wail  of  more  than  one-half  of  the  human  race  lying 
in  the  darkness  and  wretchedness  of  heathenism,  lias  not  lost  its 
power  to  move  the  heart,  tlien  has  the  time  come  when,  in  reference 
to  the  evangelization  of  Asia,  the  Church  is  called  upon  for  action — 
instant,  comprehensive,  persevering  action.  No  one  pretends  to 
think  that  the  Church  is  doing  her  whole  duty  in  regard  to  the 
heathen  world.  The  Churches  connected  with  the  American  Board 
of  Commissioners  for  Foreign  ^iissions,  contribute  annually  seventy- 
four  cen's  per  member  for  the  missionary  cause ;  the  Methodist 
Episcopal  Church  contributes  annuall}'  for  the  same  object,  about 
sixteen  cents  per  mem.ber.  Are  Christians  really  in  earnest,  when 
they  profess  to  aim  at  the  spiritual  conquest  of  the  world  V  The 
plea  of  inability  on  tlie  part  of  the  Church  cannot  be  sustained 
Witness  her  costly  altars  and  magnificent  structures  for  the  worship 
of  God,  the  splendid  mansions  and  gorgeous  equipages  of  the  fol- 

'-*  Dr.  Duff's  speech  sit  the  Auniversary  of  the  Wcalejan  Missionary  Society,  Ei- 
oter  Ilall,  London,  1851. 


1853.]  The  Church  and  Asia.  57 

lowers  of  the  despised  Nazarenc !  JnahiJity !  Rise !  ye  spirits 
■whom  voluptuousness,  baptized  ys'iih.  Christian  names,  has  huiTiod 
to  untimely  graves.  Appear!  ye  souls,  vrhom  the  gilded  vices  of 
Christian  society  have  consigned  to  the  bitter  pains  of  eternal  death  : 
It  will  not  do  for  the  Church  to  plead  poverty  in  justification  of  her 
fearful  dereliction  on  this  subject.  At  this  moment  there  is  suf- 
ficient supei-lluons  -wealth  in  the  American  Churches  alone  to  place 
a  copy  of  the  Bible  in  the  hand  of  every  human  being  in  Asia;  to 
plant  and  sustain  a  missionary  in  every  hamlet,  and  scores  of  them 
in  every  city  of  the  continent.  It  is  high  time  for  the  Church  to 
gird  herself  for  the  accomplishment  of  her  grand  commission.  We 
c.mnot  more  appropriately  close  this  paper,  than  -svith  the  language 
of  a  living  author,  from  ■v^•hosc  eloquent  pen  may  we  hope  to  receive 
further  contributions  to  the  cause  of  missions  ?  Referring  to  the 
calling  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church  in  reference  to  the 
lieatht-n  Avorld,  he  proceeds  :  "  Our  zeal  should  look  forward  to  the 
time  when  the  Methodist  itinerant  shall  traverse  the  wilds  of  Africa 
and  the  deserts  of  Tartary  ;  and  shout  for  joy  along  the  Andes  and 
tlic  Himmaleh.  But  this  is  enthusiasm — yes,  it  is  ;  yet  it  does  not 
transcend  the  power  or  the  promise  of  God.  It  is  the  enthusiasm 
that  inflamed  the  prophets,  and  bled  on  the  cross ;  and  it  must  yet 
thrill  through  the  Church  before  it  will  put  on  its  full  energy. 
Heretofore  it  has  moved  by  occasional  impulses.  Ever  and  anon 
a  glory  as  of  the  latter  day  has  dawned  upon  it,  but  been  followed 
by  darkness ;  but  now  good  men  are  looking  at  the  signs  of  the 
moral  heavens  with  new  eagerness  and  hope.  In  all  lands  great 
and  eflcctual  doors  are  opening.  New  means  of  spiritual  warfore 
are  constantly  arising.  A  special  providence  seems  to  control  the 
course  of  civil  events ....  The  idea  is  becoming  general  in  the 
Church,  that  the  morning  of  the  latter  day  is  approaching—that  the 
fmal  battle  is  at  liand.  In  these  circumstances,  how  stands  Metho- 
dism—one  of  the  largest  corps  of  the  evangelical  host:  disciplined 
and  hardy  by  a  century  of -conflicts,  possessing  energies  unequalled 
by  any  other  sect,  and  lacking  only  a  more  definite  conception  of 
Its  true  capability  to  enable  it  to  send  trembling  among  the  powers 
of  darkness  '.'"*  We  commend  this  momentous  question  to  the 
prayerful  consideration  of  every  i\Icthodist. 

""  Church  Polity,  (hj  llev.  Abel  Stevens,  A.  M.,)  p.  205. 

l-'oLKTu  Series,  Vol.  Y.— 4 


58  The  New  Fragments  of  Jlyperides.         [January, 

Akt.IV.— THE  NEW  FRAGilENTS  OF  HYPEEIDES. 

(MODIFIED  FROM  TUE  GEKJLVN  OF   SCHAFER.) 

YftEPIAHS  KATA  AHMOIGENOTi;.  The  Oration  of  Hyperidts  against 
Bemosihencs,  respecting  the  treasure  of  Harpalus.  The  Fragments  of  the 
Greek  Text,  now  tirst  cJitcJ  from  the  Facsimile  of  the  MS.  discovered  at 
Eg^-ptian  Thebes  in  ISil ;  together  with  other  P'ragments  of  the  same  Oration 
cited  in  ancient  -nriters.  With  a  preliminary  dissertation  and  notes,  and  a 
Facsimile  of  a  portion  of  the  MS.  By  Churcuill  Babingtox,  M.  A.,  Fellow  of 
St.  John's  College,  Cambridge.     J.W.Parker.     London.    1850, 

Of  the  more  celebrated  orators  of  Athenian  antiquity,  none  have 
experienced  so  adverse  a  destiny  as  Hyperides.  Whilst  orations 
by  all  the  others,  who  arc  designated  in  the  famous  Alexandrian 
Canon  as  The  Ten,  have  been  preserved  to  the  present  era, — even 
those  of  Lycurgus,  which  in  the  ninth  century  Photius  endeavom-ed 
vainly  to  procure, — every  expectation  of  recovering  a  manuscript 
of  Hyperides  has  hitherto  proved  idle.  By  a  similar  mischance 
in  the  dissertations  of  Dionysius  of  Halicarnassus  upon  the  ancient 
rhetors,  it  is  exactly  that  part,  where  he  would  have  treated  of 
Hyperides,  which  has  not  been  transmitted  to  our  hands.  Such  a 
■loss  was  felt  to  be  the  more  unfortunate,  from  the  fact  that  n3'pcrides 
was  ranked  in  art  second  only  to  Demosthenes,  and  next  to  him 
was  esteemed  the  most  influential  leader  of  the  anti-]\Iacedonian 
party  in  xVthens.  Highly  gratifying,  therefore,  was  the  announce- 
ment, that  Mr.  A.  C.  Harris,  of  Alexandria,  had  obtained  possession 
in  Egypt  of  a  papyrus  (unfortunately  broken)  Vidiich  apparently  con- 
tained a  speech  of  tliis  great  orator  against  Demosthenes.  The  first 
intelligence  of  the  discovery  of  the  MS.  was  communicated  to  the 
Royal  Society  of  Literature  in  London,  (January  13,  1S4S,)  and  has 
since  been  published  in  their  Transactions,  (Vol.  IH.)  "  When 
inquiring  at  Thebes  last  winter  for  Tahidic  fragments,"  says  Mr. 
Harris,  "some  broken  Greek  papyri  Avere  shown  to  mo  for  sale, 
and  I  purchased  them.  One  of  them  is  remarkable,  and  will  prove 
to  be  of  great  interest  to  the  lovers  of  classical  literature."  Jn  the 
course  of  the  same  year  Mr.  Han-is  published  a  facsimile  of  the 
fragments  in  eleven  lithograph  plates  under  the  title,  "  Fragments  of 
an  Oration  against  Demosthenes  respecting  the  money  of  Harpalus." 
In  his  Preface,  dated  London,  Aug.  1,  lS-18,  the  editor  writes  as 
follows :  "  The  following  Fragments  of  a  papyrus  were  bought  by 
me  from  a  dealer  in  antiquities  at  Thebes  of  L^pper  Egypt  in  the 
spring  of  1847.     They  seem  to  form  part  of  the  Oration  delivered 


1953.]  The  New  Fragments  of  Hype  rides.  59 

by  Ilypor'ulcs  in  nccusation  of  Demosthenes  respecting  tlie  treasure 

of  llarpiilus In  a  visit  to  Thebes  during  the  spring  of  the 

present  vear,  I  used  ray  best  endeavours  to  ascertain  the  spot  from 
vhicli  tliese  MSS.  ■were  taken  by  the  Arab  excavators,  but  without 
success.  The  Oration  is  -written  upon  papyrus  of  a  better  sort."' 
At  the  first  information  of  the  discovery  in  the  ^Minutes  of  the  pro- 
(•cc(lings  of  the  Royal  Society  of  Literature  for  lf-!4T-S,  a  conjecture 
i.'^  expressed  that  the  roll  of  papyrus  -was  found  in  the  tombs,  and 
had  been  buried  there  with  a  mummy.  "  This  ]MS.  is  unique  among 
the  contents  of  the  tombs  of  Thebes.  At  first  sight  it  would  seem 
that,  so  far  from  expecting  to  find  remains  of  classical  literature  in 
such  a  place,  we  ought  to  be  astonished  that  some  inexplicable 
accident  should  have  enabled  us  to  make  this  addition  to  our  store ; 
but  v,-hen  wc  reflect  on  the  numbers  of  rhetoricians,  philosophers, 
and  literary  men,  who  used  to  flock  from  Greece  as  well  as  from  Rome 
to  the  banks  of  the  Kile,  and  notice  a  practice  that  prevailed  in  that 
country  of  burying  writings  with  the  dead,  our  wonder  ceases, 
and  wc  begin  to  entertain  legitimate  hopes,  that  the  discovery  of  this 
Oration  may  be  followed  by  that  of  portions,  at  least,  of  many  of 
the  lost  Avorks  of  antiquit}^"  This  expectation  has  been  subsequently 
realized  by  some  furtlier  discoveries  of  Mr.  Harris,  who  has  recovered 
from  the  tombs  several  books  of  the  Iliad,  and  a  grammatical  writing 
of  the  Alexandrian  Tryphon.*     The  original  Hyperidean  MS.,  as 

^  In  the  London  Litei-ary  Gazette,  Xo.  179-1,  .Tunc  7,  1  Sol,  we  find  a  notice, 
among  other  ra"!-c  objects  of  antiquity  Lately  exhibited  at  a  conversazione  of  the 
It-iyal  tkn'iety  held  at  Lord  Loudosborough's,  of  a  large  and  beautiful  Greek 
inanu-<i-ript.  Mr.  Arden,  its  owner,  when  ti-avelling  in  Upper  Egypt,  some  four 
or  five  years  ago,  bought  a  papyvus-roU  of  an  Arab  near  the  ruins  of  Thebes, 
and  de-^criltcd  as  having  been  found  in  an  ancient  tomb  of  that  city.  This  roll 
has  l>cea  recently  unfolded  with  care,  pasted  upon  paper,  framed  and  glazed. 
It  i.s  nearly  four  yards  in  length,  divided  into  pages  or  columns  containing  twenty- 
tight  lines,  the  length  of  which  exceeds  six  inches,  and  the  breadth  two  inches. 
The  whole  is  written  in  a  lai-ge  and  clear  hand  with  singular  accuracy,  since 
few  coiToctious  or  interpolations  are  perceptible.  Although  it  is  difficult  to 
assign  a  precise  date  to  the  MS.,  there  still  seems  every  reason  to  believe  that 
it  is  as  old  as  the  beginning  of  the  Christian  era,  or  indeed,  which  is  by  no  means 
improbable,  that  it  was  written  a  century  or  two  U.  C.  The  delicacy  of  the 
textuiv  of  the  papyrus  affords  a  strong  presumption  iu  favour  of  the  last-named 
pvriud ;  for  it  is  well  known  to  Egyptologists,  that  coarseness  and  inferiority 
iu  ihis  particular  are  indications  of  a  considerably  later  time.  The  first  portion 
of  tlio  ^I^;.  [^  much  broken,  and  presents  many  gaps  and  mutilations.  The  close 
i»  entitled,  Jin  Jpolo^y  or  Defence  of  Lijkophron.  The  second  portion  is  much 
Ur-fvr  und  more  perfect,  showing  only  here  and  there  an  hiatus,  which  will 
jTi-UiLly  K-  ..-lu^ily  restored.  At  its  termination,  wo  are  informed  that  it  is  a 
lUfii.i  (./  i)u  Accusation  of  Euxcnippos  against  Polyei(ktas.  The  author  of  these 
wniiiciis  vtill,  in  all  likclihoo<l,  prove  to  be  the  great  Athenian  orator,  llyperidcs, 


60  77^6  New  Fragments  of  Hyperides.  [January, 

Mr.  Babington  informs  us,  (p.  xvi,)  is  now  in  London,  Laving  been 
commitlctl  to  the  care  of  Messrs.  Ranking,  the  eminent  bankers  in 
St.  Helen  s  Court,  Bishopsgate- street.  No  fresh  inspection  of  its 
contents  could,  however,  be  obtained,  since  it  was  found,  upon  making 
application,  that  Mr.  Harris  had  taken  the  key  of  the  box,  in  which 
it  is  preserved,  to  Alexandria.  Nevertheless  the  facsimile,  which 
has  not  yet,  as  it  seems,  found  its  way  to  the  booksellers,  is  so  care- 
fully and  beautiful]}'-  executed  that  any  important  advantage  from  a 
re-examination  of  the  papyrus  can  scarcely  be  anticipated. 

The  treatment  of  these  relics,  thus  literalh'  rescued  from  the  tomb, 
and  forming  no  inconsiderable  portion  of  the  principal  accusation 
upon  which  the  greatest  of  orators  >Ya3  convicted  of  bribery,  and 
banished  from  his  country,  has  been  undertaken  by  three  scholars, 
independently  of  each  other.  Bockh  first  published  a  memoir 
upon  them  in  the  Halle  Litterarische  Zeitung,  October,  1848,  Nr. 
223-227,  which  has  been  brought  out  in  a  separate  pamphlet,  now 
before  us,  under  the  title  of  "Newly-discovered  Fragments  from 
the  Orations  of  Hyperides :"  Halle,  1848,  (pp.  48.)  About  the 
same  time  M.  Hennaiui  Sauppe,  without  having  seen  a  syllable  of 
Bockh's  dissertation,  had  nearly  completed  the  deciphering  and 
restoration  of  the  Fragments.  The  results  of  his  investigations 
were  given  to  the  world  in  Schneidewin's  Pliilologus,  3.  Jahrg.,  1848, 
Heft  4,  S.  G10-G58.  The  same  scholar  publislied  in  April,  1849, 
a  second  recension  in  the  Epilogus  to  his  Oratorcs  Attici,  P.  II, 
pp.  347-353,  in  which  he  makes,  of  course,  befitting  reference  to  the 
treatise  of  In's  predecessor.  Lastly,  Mr.  Babington  has  addressed 
himself  to  the  same  task  in  the  work  now  under  examination,  -with- 
out any  kno-\vlcdge  of  the  labours  of  his  German  competitors.  In 
liis  preliminary  dissertation  (p.  xxiv,  Note,)  he  remarks  that  he  did 
not  receive  intelligence  that  Bockh  had  written  upon  the  Fragments 

whcse  -n'orks  have  been  long  lost  to  tlic  irorM.  Indeed,  tliis  appears  to  be  almost 
certain,  inasmuch  as  some  of  the  Greek  lexicographers  mention  a  speech  of 
llyperidcs  for  Lykophroii,  and  another  by  tlic  same  orator  "against  Polyeuktos 
concerning  the  accusation."  But  who  Lykophron  was,  and  what  was  the  nature 
of  the  defence  for  him,  remain  to  be  more  amply  detailed.  The  subject  of  the 
second  oration  appears,  however,  to  be  known, — for  Polyeuktos  was  accused  with 
Demosthenes  of  receiving  a  bribe  from  Harpalus.  Moreover,  the  iry])eridean 
MS.,  discovered  at  Thebes  by  Mr.  HaiTis,  is  so  exceedingly  similar,  both  in  the 
quality  of  the  papyrus  and  the  character  of  the  handwriting,  that  it  is  not 
improbable  tlicy  may  have  been  copied  by  the  sauie  Greek  scribe,  and  may 
originally  have  formed  one  entire  MS.  roll  of  the  Orations  of  Hyperides. 
Let  us  have  a  facsimile.  The  fragments  preserved  in  ancient  lexicographers 
and  grammarians  from  the  Oration  of  Hyperides  vncj)  AvKoi^povor  (trpof 
AvKovpyov,)  aa  also  those  from  the  Oration  Tphr  Tln'kvrvKTov  [rov  Kvdai'uSjjv.) 
have  been  collected  by  Sauppe  iu  his  Oratores  Attici,  pp.  29.",  290. 


1853.]  The  New  Fragments  of  Ilyperides.  61 

in  the  llalle  Litt.  Ztg.,  until  tlie  Avhole  of  his  book  was  in  the  hands  of 
the  printer,  and  almost  every  slicct  f>truck  off,  and  that  he  was  even 
then  nltc'^cthcr  uninformed  as  to  the  nature  of  the  paper  or  the  views 
of  Bockh.  from  not  having  access  to  a  copy  of  the  Journal  above- 
named.  This  last  statement  is  surprising,  inasmuch  as  Mr.  Babington's 
edition  did  not  make  its  appearance  before  the  public  until  the^^-ing 
c.f  L^oO,  tlic  Preface  being  dated  December  20,  1849.  ^Nevertheless 
a  mere  glance  into  his  book  is  sufficient  to  show  that  in  its  prepar;i- 
tion  he  was  quite  unacquainted  with  the  treatise  of  his  predecessor. 
To  estimate  correctly  the  value  of  these  different  attempts  to 
arrange  and  restore  the  Fragments  in  question,  it  is  first  of  all 
necessary  to  take  the  MS.  into  examination.  ]Mr.  Babington  has 
presented  us  with  two  lithograph  engravings,  copied  from  ]Mr.  Harris's 
Facsimile,  the  first  of  the  alphabet  and  other  noticeable  peculiarities 
in  chirography,  etc.,  the  second  of  a  larger  Fragment  (xvi,  see  pp.  4, 7.) 
The  manu::cript,  which  in  its  original  form  was  one  roll  of  papyrus, 
is  written  in  columns,  each  containing  on  a  fluctuating  average 
from  27  to  29  lines.  One  page  or  column  (the  first  of  Fragm.  iv) 
has  30  Ihies,  whilst  those  in  the  immediately  adjacent  Fragment 
have  only  2S  still  remaining,  although  it  is  evident  that  another 
Imc  was  written  when  the  ]\IS.  was  perfect.  The  number  of  letters 
in  a  line  are  generally  fifteen  or  sixteen,  but  here  again  we  observe 
considerable  variation.  Thus,  for  example,  in  Fragm.  iv^  xiv%  i'', 
there  are  but  thirteen  letters,  vrhilst,  on  the  other  hand,  in  xv^'  Ave 
find  nineteen,  and  in  ii'^  eighteen,  the  last  letters  of  the  line  in  such 
cases  behig  written  in  smaller  chai-acters.  "Words  are  frequently 
broken  off,  but  never,  as  Bockh  alone  has  remarked,  except  at 
the  end  of  a  syllable.  The  break  is  sometimes  indicated  by  a  mark, 
not  mdike  the  algebraic  symbol  >,  which  is  placed  indifferently  at 
the  end  of  a  word,  e.  g.  £-raTopi9d)r  >  and  KQivag>,  or  in  the  middle, 
e.  g.  r6:>nu)v.  Consonants  that  are  pronounced  Avith  the  folloAving 
syllable,  arc  always  draAvn  over  to  the  latter,  more  especially  in  com- 
pound words,  e.  g.  Fr.  xvi  \  25  d-voi'jdijmiicva,  27  d.~£KQcvaro, 
i\  12  t-[^'a]-rcT7';T9;7mi,  xxi,  2  [^ip7]6i]Giiara;  a  solitary  exception 
occurring  in  iv%  4  -godEdaveta-utivog.  The  same  thing  happens 
»i^  a  general  rule  in  the  elision  of  vowels:  Fr.  xix,  xxii,  11 
n/..X'  Cvriva,  xiv  ^  23  v-(;)'  vucLv,  xxi,  3  Ka--&'  d,  jvii,  19  Ka-r 
tliuc;  yet  we  also  find  xi^,  1  utar'-avrog,  and  ix,  S  rovd'-ijiui: 
1  here  is  occasionally  no  division  between  the  words ;  in  some  in- 
ttanco.s  they  are  apparently  kept  distinct,  but  in  others  their  terminal 
RUlts  are  closely  united  vrith  the  commencement  of  the  next  suc- 
ceeding Word.  Ko  stops,  breathings  or  accents  occur  anywhere  in 
the  3ib.,  no  marks  of  diceresis,  apcstrophe  or  ci-asis,  no  capital  letters 


62  The  New  Fragmetits  of  Hyperides.         [January, 

or  contractions,  "VNith  the  exception  of  a  cui'ious  stroke,  which  is 
frequently  found  to  the  left  below  the  line,  in  which  a  new  member 
of  the  sentence  commences.  These  points  are  discussed  by 
Sauppe  (Philologus,  1.  c),  and  still  more  full}'-  by  Mr.  Babington  in 
his  preliminary  dissertation.  As  to  other  peculiarities  in  the  orthog- 
raphy of  the  copyist,  it  may  be  noticed  that  he  seems  to  insert  or 
omit  at  pleasure  the  Iota  mute,  often  placing  it  also  where  it  does 
not  properly  belong,  e.  g.  ovtcji,  -XeiwL.  Again,  the  v  ecpe^KvarcKoi' 
stands  frequently  before  consonants,  e.  g.  v'',  10  7)kf.v  (pipG)v, 
xviii,  10  eSoyKev  (pvAurreiv,  xsiii,  22  l-aiSer  ro  rraidiov;  but  is 
erased  in  elXj'](paaiv  -pof  xxix,  26.  For  other  details  of  a  similar 
kind  we  refer  the  reader  to  the  editors.  Bockh  has  spoken  of 
them  summarily;  but  more  precise  and  copious  information  is 
fm-nished  by  the  introductory  essay  of  Mr.  Babington,  and  also  by 
Sauppe,  in  the  Philologus,  1.  c.  The  writing  of  the  papyrus, 
somewhat  resembling  the  Alexandrian  cursive-writing  in  the  Codex 
Cottonianus  and  Codex  Alexandrinus  of  the  Greek  Bible,  has  been 
compared  by  ^lessrs.  Bockh  and  Sauppe  with  that  of  the  papyrus 
containing  the  twenty-four  books  of  the  Iliad,  found  by  Bankes  at 
Elephantine,  and  with  that  of  Lctronne's  MS.,  in  which  Th.  Bergk 
has  recognised  fragments  from  the  works  of  Chrysippos.  The  forms 
of  the  letters  //,  f,  t,  t,  v,  i/»,  6;  approximate  closely  to  those  in  the 
Codex  Bankesianus,  and  the  same  disposition  to  unite  letters 
together  is  perceptible  in  both  these  papyri.  Since  Lcti'onne's  MS. 
was  written  one  Imndred  and  fifty  years  before  the  Christian  era, 
Sauppe  with  great  probability  assigns  to  om'  Fragments  a  date  at 
all  events  not  later  than  the  first  half  of  the  second  century  before 
Christ.  Mr.  Babington  investigates  this  question  at  considerable 
length  (pp.  xix-xxiv,)  but  without  arriving  at  any  very  definite  result. 
}Ie  observes  that  if  we  judge  from  the  form  of  the  characters  alone, 
it  seems  that  the  ]\IS.  may  be  almost  as  old  as  the  third  century  B.  C, 
and  is  probably  not  later  than  the  third  century  A.  D.,  but  inchnes 
most  to  the  opinion  of  his  learned  English  friends,  amongst  whom 
he  particularly  mentions  Mr.  Sharpe,  which  attributes  the  papyrus 
to  the  age  of  the  Ptolemies.  One  thing  is  certain — it  is  as  late 
as  the  age  in  which  dcpei/Mro  was  in  use,  because  this  unattic  fonn 
has  been  detected  and  corrected.  On  the  inference  deducible  from 
this  circumstance  ]Mr.  Babington,  after  quoting  the  instructive  note 
of  Lobeck  on  Phrynichus,  p.  1S3,  remarks  that  "patting  the  Sep- 
tuagint  out  of  sight,  both  on  account  of  the  uncertain  dates  of  its 
several  parts,  and  also  in  consequence  of  the  corrupt  condition  of 
its  text,  it  appears  that  tliis  form  (doeiXaro)  is  not  so  early  as  the 
^timc  of  Demosthenes  (and  therefore  of  Hyperides,  whose  present 


1853.]  Tlie  New  Fragments  of  Hyperides.  63 

Oration  was  delivered  B.  C.  324,)  but  that  it  may,  perhaps,  be  as 
old  as  Polybius,  who  was  exiled  B.  C.  1G7.  That  it  is  at  least  as 
ancient  as  the  Christian  era,  appears  pretty  certain."  Mr.  Bonomi 
has  drawn  attention  to  the  superior  quality  of  the  papyrus,  as 
aflbrdinc;  a  presumption  in  favour  of  the  high  antiquity  of  the  MS., 
inasmuch  as  those  Egyptian  papyri  vrhich  are  most  carefully  made 
are  iivvariably  the  oldest. 

That  these  Fragments  formed  pai-t  of  an  Oration  of  Hyperides 
('T-fpct(57/c,  see  F.  G.  Kiessling  Lycurgi  Fragm.,  p.  153,  Sauppe 
Orat.  Att.  2,  p.  175)  Kara  L^-qiioadivovg  is  shown  by  the  citations  of 
the  old  lexicographers.  Of  the  ten  fragments  collected  from  their 
writings  by  Sauppe  in  the  Oratores  Attici  2,  p.  290,  fg.,  three  are 
found  again  in  our  papyrus  (107,  lOS,  109,)  and,  in  especial,  the 
phrase  hat  Kadi'iusvor  Karco  v-o  ry  Kararoi-irj,  which  Harpokration, 
who  probably  lived  at  least  as  early  as  the  fourth  century  of  om- 
era,  quotes  in  his  Lexicon  (s.  v.  Kararoji?])  from  'TTepei'd;/^-  Kara 
^ijunndivovc,  is  found  word  for  word  in  our  sixteenth  Fragment. 
"  Further,  Harpokration  remarks  that  the  word  h-ia-drrig  is  used 
in  the  same  Oration  of  one  that  is  e6eaT7]Kojg  ~pdyft.aTt,  otgwvv. 
In  Fragm.  iv  Demosthenes  is  called  e-iordrrjg  ribv  dXo)v  rrpayiidrov. 
Again,  Harpokration,  Photius  and  Suidas  tell  us  that  Nicanor  is 
mentioned  in  the  speech  of  Hyperides  against  Demosthenes,  and  that 
this  iSicanor  is  iSicanor  the  Stagirite.  The  name  ISicanor  does 
occur  in  our  fifth  Fragment,  and  it  is  certain  from  Diodoros  that  he 
is  the  Stagirite."  Other  quotations  of  the  ancient  grammarians 
and  lexicographers  can  be  readily  referred  to  what  is  here  preserved. 
In  our  Fragments  we  also  find  the  confirmation  of  Plutarch's  state- 
ments in  the  fifteenth  chapter  of  his  Life  of  Demosthenes.  A 
restoration  (in  which  Sauppe  and  Babington  both  concur)  in 
iii',  13,  (17)  t-i  7?/pw[f  ovdoi]  is  supported  by  Pollux,  who  notes 
(Fragm.  285)  that  the  expression  is  used  by  Hyperides,  although 
he  does  not  mention  the  title  of  the  Oration.  The  testimony  of 
Pollux  has  been  overlooked  by  Mr.  Babington. 

Unfortunately  the  Fragments  are  very  defective,  and  abound  in 
gaps  and  mutilations.  Even  the  introduction  of  the  Oration  is 
lost ;  important  passages  are  manifestly  wanting  in  the  middle,  and 
the  epilogue  is  also  incomplete.  iS'o  single  column  is  entirely  free 
from  injury,  nor  can  it  be  ascertained  how  many  of  them  stood  iri 
joxtajiosition.  The  breadth  of  the  margin  separating  the  columns 
i.s  usually  a  little  less  than  an  inch,  and  there  is  likewise  a  broader 
luargm  above  and  below  the  pages,  the  former  of  which  when  perfect 
was  2^  inches  or  o,  trifle  more,  the  lower  at  least  o}  inches  in  width 
It  is  from  this  upper  and  lower  border  that  the"  place  which  the 


64  The  New  Fragments  of  Hyperides.         [January, 

Fragment  occupied  in  the  column  may  be  recognised.  Witli  respect 
to  the  distribution  of  the  Fragments,  ^Ir.  Hanis,  in  liis  Facsimile,  has 
suffered  them  to  follow  each  other  without  any  kind  of  classification 
or  arrangement.  External  and  internal  evidence  has  led  the  editors 
to  abandon  this  com-se.  Three  of  the  Fragments  (ix,  xiii,  xvii) 
evidently  form  no  part  of  the  Oration  against  Demosthenes ;  Trliilst 
others  that  stand  widely  apart  in  the  work  of  Mr.  Harris  are  seen 
by  their  contents  to  be  closely  intercomiected,  or  are  still  more 
directly  united  with  each  other.  The  latter  circumstance  has  been 
detected  by  Bockh  only  in  Fragm.  xv  and  iii,  the  last  of  which 
undoubtedly  continues  and  terminates  the  sentence  broken  off  in 
the  former  at  the  close  of  the  second  column.  In  this  particular 
Sauppe  has  been  far  more  fortunate.  He  discovered  that  Fr. 
xvi"  forms  the  lower  portion  of  the  page  beginning  at  Fr.  vii% 
and  that  by  supplying  a  few  missing  letters  the  uniting  link  of  the 
separated  parts  is  exhibited  in  Fr.  xxY^  Further,  he  found  in 
Fr.  xxii  the  detached  right-hand  side  of  the  lines  preserved  in 
larger  proportion  in  Fragm.  xix,  and  in  the  letters  contained  in 
Fragm.  xxvii  a  mutilated  or  torn  off  portion  of  Fr.  xxvi.  Again, 
he  has  seen  that  Fr.  xiv,  consisting  of  the  lower  parts  of  three 
columns,  dovetails  accurately  with  the  upper  part  of  Fr.  viii;  and, 
lastly,  he  has  johied  Fr.  xii,  which  contains  the  lower  lines  of  two 
columns,  Avith  the  third  and  fourth  columns  of  Fr.  vi.  To  this  last 
restoration  he  was  guided  by  the  sense,  it  being  impossible  to  procure 
external  proof  on  account  of  the  lacuna  still  remaining  in  the  middle 
of  the  page.  Certain  letters  also  that  are  wanting  in  Fr.  xiii  were 
detected  in  Fr..  xxviii.  In  this  way  Sauppe  has  succeeded  in 
restoring  to  their  true  position  detached  parts  which  Bockh  pro- 
nounces worthless,  brought  others  into  their  proper  connexion,  and 
thereby  laid  a  muCh  more  secure  foundation  for  the  arrangement 
and  restoration  of  the  Fragments.  Finally,  under  this  head,  Mr. 
Babington  has  in  a  few  cases  struck  into  the  right  path,  but  in  others 
wandered  widely  astray.  With  his  predecessors,  he  has  perceived 
that  Fr.  iii  coheres  with  xv,  and  agrees  with  Sauppe  in  conjec- 
turing that  the  columns  of  Fr.  xii  are  the  lower  parts  of  the  third 
and  fourth  columns  of  Fr.  vi.  On  the  other  hand,  he  has  assigned 
Fr.  viii  and  xiv,  which  Buckh  compared  on  account  of  the  simi- 
larity of  their  contents,  and  Sauppe  has  brought  into  direct  com- 
bhiation,  to  two  different  parts  of  the  Oration.  It  is  still  more 
astonishing  that  he  perceived  but  half  the  truth  in  reference  to 
Fragments  xvi^  and  vii\  With  ]]uckh  he  recognises  from  the 
nature  of  the  argument  a  mutual  connexion,  and  discovers  in  vii 
the  upper  portion  of  the  lower  columns  in  xvi,  but  then  arranges 


1653.]  The  Next)  Fragments  af  Hyp erides.  65 

them  as  follows:  xvis  vii%  xvi  ^  vii ",  whereas  their  true  relation 
i5  prt-cisely  tlie  reverse.  In  proof  of  the  accuracj  of  the  course 
pursued  by  Sauppe  avc  exhibit  the  passage,  in  -ffriich  vii  ^,  xxv  ^,  xvi" 
Uovftail  Avith  each  other: — 

\W\  ].  10.— "ApTaAo[v  de]  A/}  dnodel^ai  ra  [xgifl-'SV ara  b-doa 
iorcv  ■  Ovx  ol~o)g  nvT^oltro']  Tdv  dgiidfj.dv  \\  avribv  xvi  ^, 
1.  15. — 'ilg  (.[ocKsv,  b-6aa  tjv,  'AXa'  tva  aJy,  d(p'  ogov  Xvrov  6d  rdv 
fUGl'&d']v.     Ugdr-eadat  k.  t.  k. 

The  letters  on  the  left  of  the  simple  perpendicular  stroke  are  found 
in  xxv  I',  and  airCn>  after  the  double  perpendicular  stroke  forms 
the  comiliencement  of  xvib.  The  letters  enclosed  in  brackets 
show  t?auppc's  restorations. 

^  From  Avhat  has  now  been  said  it  is  clearly  evident  that  the  most 
important  contributions  to  the  restoration  of  our  Fragments  have 
boon  made  by  Sauppo,  and  we  shall  consequently  follow  his  ar- 
rangement, appciiding  in  brackets  the  figures  of  Mr.  Harris.  That 
every  portion  of  the  text  is  restored  to  its  true  and  proper  position 
IS  not  claimed  by  Sauppe,  and  without  further  evidence  cannot, 
perhaps,  be  satisfactorily  proved,  inasmuch  as  the  connexion  of 
thought  in  oratorical  composition  has  confessedly  great  freedom. 
In  the  restitution  of  what  is  missing  the  German  editors  are  fre- 
<lucTitly  unanimous ;  in  numerous  instances  Bockh  has  seen  the  truth, 
and  Sauppe  has  accordingly  altered  his  second  recension,  whilst  in 
other  passages  the  last-named  scholar  has  best  supplied  the  hiatus. 
iTeqncntly,  as  is  self-evident,  a  certain  restoration  cannot  possibly 
be-  {.roduced,  and  hence  a  fair  opportunity  is  given  to  the  incjenuity 
and  conjectures  of  the  learned.  Both  editors  have  parted^off  the 
imcs  ni  exact  correspondence  with  the  MS.,  so  that  the  extent  and 
contour  of  detached  portions  may  beaccurately  seen ;  hi  the  Oratores 
Attici  this  mode  of  printing  has  been  necessarily  abandoned. 
>\  hile  Messrs.  BOckh  and  Sauppe  have  in  this  matter  confined 
themselves  to  what  was  absolutely  necessary,  Mr.  Babington  has 
pursued  a  style  of  publication  which  involves  a  far  more  cxtrava^^ant 
sacrifice  of  money  and  space.  He  gives  first  in  types,  which  were 
ca^t  for  Iviplmg's  edition  of  the  Codex  Bezra  and  for  the  most  part 
rc>omb.o  the  characters  of  our  3IS.,  the  individual  columns,  and 
•*;  J'^'His  thereto,  in  red  ink,  his  conjectural  restorations  of  the  letters 
i^n.it  arc  cither  missing  altogether,  or  whose  relics  are  utterly  illegible. 
iiati-vor  Was  found  "scarcely  legible"  in  the  papyrus  from  mutlla- 
i"n  -r  ojjscure  writing,  and  could  not.  therefore,  be  decii)hcred 
^^iUi  entire  certainty,  is  distinguished  by  being  printed  in  a  smaller 


66  The  New  Fragments  of  Hi/perides.         [January, 

character.  Thus  the  reader  is  enabled  to  see  with  great  faciUty 
what  has  been  preserved  with  tolerable  distinctness  in  each  column; 
what  letters  are  injured  or  ill-formed;  and  likewise  those  which  are 
supplied  entirely  from  conjecture.  It  is  to  be  regretted  that  of  the 
marks  employed  by  the  original  scribe,  only  the  above-mentioned 
interlinear  stroke  has  been  reproduced.  Below  every  column  the 
Greek  text  is  then  printed  in  oixlinary  type,  with  accents,  breathings, 
and  stops,  in  continuous  lines ;  hero  the  restorations  and  conjectures 
of  the  editor  are  not  distinguished  from  the  traditionary  writing. 
If  we  now  compare  his  text  Avith  that  of  his  predecessors,  we  shall 
discover  proof  of  careful  reading,  from  which,  however,  no  very 
important  advantage  has  accrued,  since  in  this  respect  their  omissions 
are  still  fewer  than  his  own.  Isolated  words,  and  even  parts  of  words, 
are  sought  to  be  restored,  which  they,  as  Ave  believe,  Avith  sounder 
judgment,  have  left  untouched.  Many  of  his  restorations  coincide 
with  theirs,  but  in  other  cases  differ  more  or  less  Avidely,  and  Avhen 
this  happens  Mr.  Babington  appears  to  us  to  have  hit  the  truth  in 
scarcely  a  single  instance.  He  is  not  so  completely  master  of  the 
language  as  to  perform  with  confidence  and  trustAvorthiness  a  task 
so  difficult  as  the  treatment  of  such  Fragments  undoubtedly  is. 
HoAv  difficult  it  is  to  restore  the  words  of  the  orator  in  lacunar,  such 
as  those  of  which  our  ?iIS.  is  full,  Ave  will  shoAv  by  a  striking  example. 
That  Fragments  xix  and  xxii  combine  immediately  Avith  each 
other,  Avas  seen  by  Sauppc,  Avho  in  their  subsequent  adjustment 
had  for  this -reason  only  a  few  letters  to  subjoin.  The  boundary 
or  limit  of  the  tAvo  Fragments  is  pointed  "out  by  a  vertical  stroke. 
Messrs.  BiJckh  and  Babington  haA-e  attempted  to  supply  Avhat  they 
found  Avanting  in  Fr.  xix.     Hence  result  the  folloAving  variations : — 

Babington  (p.  15):          Buckh  (p.  31):  Sauj^pe: 

XIX.  XIX.  XIX  and  XXII. 


/.[a]     .....  V     ......     . 

2.EK.  V  KOI  a  .  .  .  At}  [(j]i'  Kal  Gir[tcJ,«f-  ?.t';.[(j]v  kqI  alriCiue- 

vof,  OTL  'A?-fft2i'[r5paj  vog,  on  'AAffdi'[Jf'V  ^'^Ct  '''"'  'AAf^di'[f5p(.j 

Xapt^Ofievrj   [?/  (3ov-  x"P'^","^^"'l   [^  (^ov-  japfCouti'?;   \r/  tSov- 

Xt]  avE\7^€lv  ai[zQv  ov  ?.?/  u]'[^si']7:tiv  aii[roj'  ?}/  ai't[?.'\€lv  av\Tov 

(iov^crat,  or  ro[i''To  {iovlf-Tai,  (Iia77[fp  ^irj  fiov?^erai,  Cjn-\e.p  ov 

T^uvrag  vuur  t[i66-  T.uvrar  I'^tif  f[k'o-  'Kuvrar  i-uur  c\l6u- 

Tag  uri  oiiV  ci   \j\_t'/.oiTE  rae;  on  ovdtlg  [^tuv  raf,  on  ov6c}g  \z'iv 

roiovTOV  av[(\Hdi'Ta  roioiroi'  (h'[f5pa  o'tor  r'  roiorrov  tii'[rtt]pe/,   0)' 

sanv  :T(jiu(7J[a£  oiW  a?.,     'czw  rrpiuadl^ai  e'l  u?.-  Jartv  7:ptui&\ni,  «/- 

2.0V  Tivu  ^irixlavna-  7.ov  rivu  fir/   [net-  ?.'  ovriva  ^;}|7t  7;d- 

i9a£  larLf  /'/;....  oai  Icnv  //^[('t  trot  loriv  fif/\Tc.  [xpln- 


1853.]  The  New  Fragments  of  Hyperides.  67 

In  this  passai:;e  Hyperides  rebuts  the  assertion  of  Demosthenes, 
tliat  the  Areoi)agos  had  instituted  proceedings  against  him  for  the 
purpose  of  gratifying  Alexander :  No  man  mahcs  away  icith  one 
tvJio  is  of  such  a  character  that  he  can  he  bought  (like  Demosthenes,) 
but  him  loho  can  neither  he  won  over  hy  persuasion,  nor  seduced 
by  money.  Eockh  erred  by  assuming  that  "Demosthenes,  as  it 
seems,  had  accused  the  council  of  being  willing  to  adjudge  a  mark 
of  honour,  probably  the  public  proclamation  of  a  crown  at  the 
Dion^'sia,  to  some  man  only  at  the  instance  of  Alexander,  or  with  a 
view  to  court  liis  favoiu";  this  man  Hyperides  takes  under  his  pro- 
tection." Mr.  Babington,  it  will  be  seen,  pursues  a  very  singular 
course.  He  supposes  that  the  orator  is  here  treating  of  the 
removal  of  a  statue  of  Alexander,  to  the  erection  of  which  at  Athens 
Demosthenes  is  represented  by  H^-perides  as  favom-able,  but  never- 
theless confesses  that  the  letters  which  he  reads  so  differently  from 
his  competitors  are  exceedingly  obscm-e. — We  subjoin  a  second 
Fragment  (viii%)  in  order  to  demonstrate  how  greatly  Mr.  Babing- 
ton has  been  distanced  by  his  fellow-labourers.  Sauppe  has  restored 
the  close  by  combining  it  with  xiv^ : — 

Sauppe.  Bockh  (p.  22) :         Babington  (p.  22)  : 

"]"  [)]"[P  ff^Jr^v  b[i[o]iug  o]v  [■i'lu.lp]  kariv  duaiuc  .     .     ecrtv  o/ioio)^ 

e't:i'o]i',  eI  tlq  eXa-  u6ik]ov  eI  tie  e/.a-  ■     .     .    v  el  tic  i/.a- 

/?ci'],  ii?.7:  tl  d&ei>  n)j  /?fi/],  a/.7:  el  b&ev  ul)  jSev]  •  a/.?J  el  6-&n-  //;/ 

«Vk  o]iJ[f]  /  6,M0([w]r  [a- ^f^-v]-  oi](5[e] -' r.t.'Oi[(j]f  ....     ouoiuc 

Ci>iyji[ai]v  ol  ISiurat  udLKo']v[ci']v  ol  I6i^rai.  odeDJjovfftv  ol  idujrac 

/.Cfi](n-7[cf]  ri  xP^'(^^ov        /a(/3f2!']ovr[f]f  rb  xpi'(ycov  Aai9]6iT[e]c  to  xP^clov 

KOi  0(]  f'r'iroptc  Kol  ol  Kal  oi]  p?}-o[p]rf  Kal  ol  kol  ol']  prjTopeg   koL  ol  [_a-- 

CTpar^]-,oi-  6ia  Ti;  oTLTOtg  arpaTif^yoi.  dia  'i;  on  Totg  paT'lrr.oL   Siu  t'l;  otl  Tolq 

fih'  i^]i6Tatc  'Apxa-  filv  l6]LUTatg  'Aprra-  t€  i]6iuTatc  "Apira- 

/o;«to]A:£i'<5[i'];!?.dr- xiv»  ?.of  h-E]KEV  p[c?.[ac  log  wf  IoC]kev  o\jpEL 

Tciv  rjy  [xpI^'OloIv,  ol  6e   Mi(5]o[v  x]pvaio[y]  .  .  r]o  [,-i;]prc7/o[v]  .  .  . 
\'orpaT]ri[yol]  Kal  ol  i^to- 
per  u[?.?.'juv  tvsKa 
iXovc^w  ol  6e  vo- 
fr)i]  .  .  fi;  udiKov- 

Here  again,  so  far  as  the  restoration  depends  simply  on  conjecture, 
Sauppe  and  Bockh  concur  even  down  to  points  of  comparatively 
little  moment.  Wc  will  not  reproach  Mr.  Babington  vrith  the  circum- 
stance of  his  not  having  discovered  what  presented  itself  naturally 
iiii'l  unsought,  but  with  haWng  introduced  the  superfluous  re,  the 
mc.1mnrrlt.33  Cig  iioLKev,  and  the  inadmissible  present  (0■pF^)  If 
liirihor  ],roof  is  needed  that  he  is  not  so  skilled  in  Greek  expression 
;:--  to  be  competent  to  essay  with  certain  hand  the  restoration  of  our 
I' nigincnts,  wu  adduce  from  Fr.  i»(8).21  6c' 6,ri.  where  (ha  ri  is 


68  The  New  Fragments  of  Hyperides.         [January, 

necessary,  e-ifc£6d?Mtov,  for  "whicli  sn-t  KecpaXaiov  must  indisputably  be 
read,  and  from  i''  (9),  16  ua/m  or)  d~6voi[a,  w  A?]u6']ad£r'ec,  v~[d  ruv 
dlyojva  dliKa^onevoi'l  vvv  :7po[A7]i'(5fi'[euei]  d  uai  ■r:QoaraLaxi[_v'}rd, 
where  Sauppe  has  restored  [Kai  ydp  /y]  o?)  d7:6voL\a,  w  \rjiio]- 
a-Btve^,  vrr[ip  d-dvrojv']  rtbv  o(5[i]fi:[o?;]i'[-w]']  vvi^  zQo'[Ki}vdvvlev']'^i 
Kal  rrQoavataxvvTel.  To  compare  more  examples  of  the  same  kind 
would  be  a  work  of  supererogation,  and  we  will  rather  turn  to  the 
consideration  of  those  passages  in  wliich  Mr.  Babington's  conjectures 
deserve  examination,  or  from  whose  discussion  independently  of  this 
some  advantage  may  be  looked  for.  After  our  previous  observations, 
it  will  probably  require  no  justification  that  we  henceforth  avail 
oiu-selvcs  of  Sauppe's  [S.]  recension  and  an-angement.  Even  in 
the  above-quoted  Fragment  18, 13  (xiv")  in  the  words  ol  de  orga-r^yol 
Kai  ol  p^rogeg  d/./xov  tveKa  ex^voiv,  Sauppe  points  out  the  com- 
plementar}'  addendum  J[AA]wi'  as  uncertain ; — the  expression  is  too 
vague  and  indefinite,  nor  does  it  apparently  fill  up  the  lacuna.  So 
likewise  the  next  line  does  not  seem  restored  by  txovoiv ;  perhaps 
we  should  read  dldiKrjud^rcov  tveKa  [el/SjCfyaaliv.  Mr.  Bockh  [B.] 
has  also  read  T  (p.  19,)  whilst  ^Ir.  Babington  thinks  that  E  may  be 
recognised. — In  1,  10  (xxv")  Mr.  S.  has  restored  i-e'jid/)  yap  7}A[i9£v 
tj  di>']6gsg  StKalo-rai  "AprraAjor  dg  rijv  ['Arr/zc'/}?']  aai  ol  rra-.  Here 
Mr.  Babington  [Bab.]  supplies  7Ta\\Q6vre<;,  as  B.  also  had  conjectured, 
and  instead  of  W-rnKiji'  writes  tf:i:/.>ioiav.  We  believe  these  supple- 
ments con-ect,  since  the  Fragments  that  stand  in  connexion  with 
this  passage  treat  of  the  popular  assembly,  at  which  llarpalos  was 
present. — In  restoring  2  and  0  (vii  ^  xxv  ^  xvi ''  and  xvi ')  important 
assistance  is  furnished  by  the  fragment  from  Philochoros,  Avhich  is 
preserved  in  the  Lives  of  the  Ten  Orators,  p.  S4G,  b.  That  it  is 
defective,  and  may  be  restored  with  the  help  of  Photius,  was  first  seen 
by  Mr.  S.,  and  accordingly  Bubner,  in  the  Paris  edition  of  Plutarch, 
andWestermann,  in  the  15io}fMa;)0(,  p.  2S5,  have  written:  Bov/.oiih'c^vr' 
'Adrjvaioyv  W.VTC~drQ(^  rruQudovvai  top  drdpuj-oi'  dTrelTzei'  (6  Ar/uo- 
o-dtVTjg),  tyQarpe  r'  d-odt:adat  rd  XQW^'O'  dr  dKQO-oXiv  *  jUT^di;  tu) 
dquuy  rov  dpi'&fwv  d-orra  •  (pj]oavro<;  6'  ' XprraAov  e~raK6oia  levy. 
aaraKOHLoai  rd?Mvra,  rd  dvevix&ii'ra  dg  rijv  df:p6-o?uv  evpi&r]  rgia- 
Kuaia]  Kal  7:evriiKovra  i]  oP.t'yw  TrXetova,  cog  tijqcfi  <Pi}.nxonog.  The 
]\ISS.  exhibit  7)6?],  and  we  consider  this  the  true  reading.  ^l?]ds 
is  adopted  by  the  editors  from  the  text  of  Photius,  but  incorrectly, 
inasmuch  as  llarpalos  must  declare  in  the  assembly  the  exact  sum, 
and  in  fact  does  declare  it,  for  the  following  Avords  in  the  Lives  of 
the  Ten  Orators :  alriav  tox.sv  0  Arnioadh'/ig  dcopoSoKtag  Kai  6i,u 
rovro  [I'ijre  ruv  dpidj^idv  rcov  dvaKOiuadivruv  iKfi/jrvh-Log  in]rs  -: /)v 
ruv  (pvXaooovruv  djdXeiav,  do  not  refer  to  tlie  statement  of  tlie 


1853.]  The  New  Fragments  of  Hyper  ides.  69 

aiiionut  Avliicli  ITuq^alos  had  IrougLt  with  liim  to  Athens,  but  to  the 
balance  deposited  in  the  Acropolis,  whose  precise  sum  Demosthenes 
had  not  declared  to  the  people.     In  the  first  quotation,  however,  it 
appeurs  to  us  that  somethiuo-  has  fallen  awa}-  before  i'tdr],  as  already 
pointed  out  in  the  Zeitschrifc  fur  die  Alterthumswissenschaft,  1^4S. 
o3,  S.  lioS.     Messrs.  B.  and  Bab.  have  adhered  exclusively  to  ^\'ytten- 
badi's  text,  and  overlooked  the  entire  lacuna,— an  oversight  that  has  not 
failed  to  re-act  prejudicially  upon  their  attempts  to  restore  the  Trag- 
ments  of  Hyperides.     .Mr.  S.  has  taken  the  true  course;  .we  may, 
however,  in  2,  10  express  our  preference  for  "Xg-aXov  6'  tjStj  d^o'- 
6el^at  instead  of  "ApToAov  d  s  6  ?)  drr.—ln  3,  25  Messrs.  B.  and  Bab. 
have  concurrently  written :  h'  rCj  (J//[/t]9  el~ra']K6aia  (bfjlalag  elvlaq 
rd/uivra  vir  ru  ijiuqaqi  cra^t'pe;^  kq..^  which  tallies  exactly  with  the 
three  hundred  and  fifty  talents  of  Philochoros ;  the  erroneous  I  (at  the 
termiuation  of  iuuorj)  cannot  excite  our  wonder,  since  it  is  also  found,  as 
previously  mentioned,  in  other  passages  of  our  MS.    Mr.  S.  reads  rr  in 
lieu  of  //  ^the  difference  between  these  two  letters  being  scarcely  per- 
ceptible in  the  original  writing)  and  conjectures  :  vvv  rd  rrlavra']  a^ 
dva<pigeig  Kalrayparpfi]  with  the  following  explanation:  thou  canst, 
according  to   tliij  reckoning,  bring  vp  to  the  Acropolis 
cyihj  such  and  such  a  sum.     But  this  sense^  could  not  have  been 
expressed  by  the  naked  dative.— In  2,  22,  Mr.  Bab.  reads  aiov  ror 
Xopevrlyjr^  and  would  restore  the  hiatus  by  supplying  Xapl]rjiov. 
Messrs.  B.  and  S.  edit  only  .  .  .  or,  and  judging  from  the  Facsimile 
the  at  cannot  in  fact  be  recognised  with  full  certainty.— In  4,  .Messrs. 
B.  and  S.  have  both  perceived  that  the  last  line  of  iv "  is  continued 
in  the  first  of  iv  %  whilst,  from  not  discovering  this  fact,  Mr.  Bab. 
a-«sumes  that  a  line  lias  perished,  and  to  restore  the  supposed  lacuna 
has  been  betrayed  into  unnecessary  and  erroneous  conjecture.— 
i-n.\  10  (i  >-)  Mr.  S.  has  proposed  in  the  Philolo-us :  l^al  y«p]  oix 
v^tQ  Imcoot  ra:]XdvTcn>  6[cKd;eTe,^  all'  \y^n^,^  r[pm«o]ai(oi',  ov6' 
^j^tQ  idu.r-^  a6LKiialdrm>,  dUJ  ^.Jt.^  d-di'T[a>r.]     For  rpiaKoaii^v 
Mr.  Lab.  substitutes  rerQaunaicov,  whilst  B.  decides  a-ainst  both 
tbesc  words.     We  think  the  first  most  likely  to  be  true,  inasmuch 
as  three  hundred  and  fifty  talents,  or  something  more,  were  really 
lorlicom.ng  from  the  original  seven  hundred,  and  in  a  summaiy    ' 
siJtcuK-nt  ot  what  was  missing,  the  orator  would  probably  select  no 
other  round  number  than  three  hundred.     Further,  Mr  Bab.  has 
J;,'"",  ^''^'/'f^''^^  "'""'"'^  aA^-,;u[aran.-,]  in  place  of  which  Mr.  B. 
^     IS  0..0    t;[rrtp  ^vrV]  d,5u:/iu[aroc,  dXV  rJrr.V  d-:dvruiv.      The  last 
^  V  m,  to  us  the  true  reading,  and  we  do  not  understand  wl,v  .Mr.  S.. 
misL  renouncmg  his  earlier  conjecture,  should  have  written  in  the 
^-  '^"-  "•  P-  ^^9 ".  11  ov6'  iTTiQ  h-dg  dduajitdrcov.     Berhaps,  how- 


70  The  New  Frag?nents  of  Hyperides.  [January, 

ever,  it  may  be  a  mere  typographical  error.  — 13  (v),  12.  Mr.  S. 
■with  great  probability  fills  up  the  gaps  in  the  following  manner: 

K[al  on  XQ'JIKi~<^ doSevra  t/i   rijr  [^SioiKi'ja'jf-.cog  oavro)  [rrepi- 

■n'JoiTjadnevog  .  .  .  After  ;\;p7//tarff  the  MS.  has  etc  (^S.  reads  eio,)  •which 
Messrs.  B.  and  Bab.  would  have  us  combine  with  a  form  of  (pegen' 
(^elgcpsQocg  B.,  elcoioeig  Bab.)  We  think  that  etc  [tto/^iiov'],  or  some- 
thing similar,  must  originally  have  stood.  For  of  an  no(poQd  there 
is  no  trace  in  this  passage. — 14,  1  (v^).  The  ]MS.  exhibits  -gdc 
t[7/]j^  eA~i6a  -poffc'[-f](7ej'  cjcre  fi7j6h>a  TTpoaiadiodai.  In  the  verb 
after  the  first  e,  a  -  may  at  all  events  be  distinguished.  Mr.  Bab. 
imagines  that  a  trace  of  ?/  may  moreover  be  perceived  before  o,  and 
accordingly  edits  -rTpogE-oirjoev,  which  can  hardly  be  correct ;  Messi-s. 
B.  and  S.  both  concui'  in  TrpocE-taer.  As,  however,  an  A  is  written 
above  the  I  in  e/.-ida,  ]Mr.  B.  has  concluded  that  'EAAada  must  have 
been  the  original  wnting.  In  our  opinion  this  inference  is  correct, 
and  the  expression  -gbg  rrjv  e?-i6a  Trpoce-eoev  entirely  inadmissible, 
for  "altogether  contrary  to  expectation"  would  be  Trapd  Ti]v  eX-ida, 
not  Trpdf  TTjv  e/~i6a. — 15  (v"^).  Mr.  S.  "VNTites :  ravra  av  ~[epi- 
Xl'gif\a\aL  rjw  iirr](p\^iajiari,  a]vAAa/3wj'  ~d[y  "Ap~a']?.oi',  Kat  rovq  ii£\y 
iuo']&[(j)rov'\c  d-avrag  [j.LeTaY^{('-^-']Eadat  r:e-[oiri]Ka(;  cog  'AXiiav- 
[dpoi'j]  ovK  t^[;^]oj'raf  aA/,.[7/7']  oidefiiav  dTO(7[Tpo]o7/T',  roig  6s 
[^aargdrrag,']  ol  avrot  dv  7//c[ov  d-Ldovlreg  ~Qdg  rav[_Trjv  t?}?^]  dvvamv, 
t:xov-e[^g]  rd  XQ^nara  Kat  rov[g']  OTpariurag,  oaovg  t[A-a]CTrof  avrwv 
£(%[e]v,  Tovrovc  cvu~a[^'\rag  ov  iiorov  KeK(l)?.VKag  d-Tocripai  e/t-[£/]jvn' 
T7/  ov?JJjil>ei  rrj  '\p-d?.ov,  a/.?  a  Kat  .  .  .  [^y^h-aoroi'  .  .  .  The  com- 
mencement is  ver}''  happily  restored ;  in  the  remainder  of  the  passage 
the  editors  partiall}'-  agi-ee,  but  oargdrrag  and  d~i66vTeg  are  the  con- 
vincing and  satisfactory  restorations  of  Mr.  S.  alone.  For  the  first 
Mr.  B.  has  d/.?.ovg,  vrhich,  on  account  of  the  necessity  for  a  sharply 
marked  opposition,  is  too  indefinite,  and  the  same  remark  applies  to 
(3ag,3dgovg,  the  supplement  of  Mr.  Bab.     The  words  roig  de  aarpdrrag 

are  preceded  in  the  MS.  by  roi-g  f/6[v 'jg.     In  this  lacuna  Mr.  S. 

thinks  the  end  of  a  0  and  the  initial  stroke  of  an  fi  may  be  recognised 
at  the  beginning  of  the  fourth  line,  whilst  B.  finds  a  X,  and  Bab.  a  A 
with  traces  of  a  second  A.  He  has,  therefore,  edited  dp./.ovg,  which 
is  decidedly  erroneous,  because,  as  alleged  in  a  former  part  of  this 
paper,  a  line  is  never  broken  off  in  the  middle  of  a  syllable ;  and 
besides  this  objection,  d/.Ao?'c  would  bo  here  again  far  too  vague  an 
expression.  Mr.  S.  has  written  ino\\dcorovg ;  but  it  deserves  con- 
sideration whether  we  ought  not  to  entertain  some  doubt  respecting 
the  propriety  of  a  conjectural  restoration  that  involves  such  a  division 
of  the  syllable,  even  though  in  Fragm.  5,  4  an  exception  is  exhibited 
from  the  rule  that  is  otherwise  invariably  followed.     Mr.  B.  proposes 


1653.3  TJie  New  Fragments  of  Hyperides.  71 

(7i7///«|[tot'5-,— a  word  which  gives  apparently  too  many  letters  for  the 
fuurtii,  and  too  few  for  the  fifth  line,  besides  suggesting  of  necessity 
the  (luesiion,  what  <7L>/ia^-oi  can  be  meant  ?— for  at  this  epoch  Athens 
waa  wliully  destitute  of  aUies.  We  imagine  that  ["EA]|iA[7]2'a]f  must 
be  read.— a  word  which  accords  excellently  with  l~Qe\oji£veo^aL,  as 
edited  by  B.  and  Bab.,  whilst  S.  conjectures  [/-<e]|l[ra]/3[GA]ec7i9ai ;'  in 
the  fifth  line  a  letter,  perhaps,  is  wanting,  and  at  the  commencement 
of  the  sixth  Mr.  Bab.  has  read  i^eveo&aL,  whilst  Mr.  B.  could  distinguish 
with  certainty  only  jSe.eodat.  So  we  obtain  the  antithesis  we  need : 
Toig  //fcv  "EXA7]i>ag  a~avrag  rrQeo^evea&ca  ~e7Toi7]Kag  ojg   'AXe^av- 

dpov _  rovg  Jfc-  oarpd-rrag  ov  [lovov  KeHLoXvuag  d-oarqvat.  k.t.  k. 

At  the  close  of  this  Fragment  instead  of  [tjicaorov  a  perfect  (in 
opposition  to  KSKihXvKaq)  may  have  stood,  as  pointed  out  by  Mr.  Bab. 
—-In  IG,  19  (xv«)  we  must  midoubtedly  read  and  supply:  [K]at 
ovdtv  dav^aoTov  [ovd^i-ore  jclq  olfiai  .  .  .v  airCjv  jie  .  .  .  ,  ehdrojg^ 
<'i[Xovg]  rovg  «.-'  EvqIttov  [KeK^Ttj-at.  What  has  been  suggested^ 
for  the  jmrpose  of  filling  up  the  subsequent  larger  hiatus  "(where 
from  seven  to  nine  letters  have  perished)  is  proved  by  external  evidence 
to  be  wholly  inadmissible.— 17  (xv"^  andiii-).  Hyperides  is  en- 
largmg  upon  the  disgrace  which  Demosthenes  had  incurred  by  giving 
occasion  at  such  an  advanced  period  of  his  life  to  a  prosecution  for 
bribery  from  the  youths  of  the  city.  Here  Mr.  S.  (in  the  Orat.  Att. 
I  c.)  has  restored  after  Bockh  the  commencement  as  follows :  [aV] 
o[vK  aloxv^vet  vvvi  Tij/ui;ovr[og]  ojv  i-rd  iieipaKicov  fcptvouevog  rrtpl 
i^o,po6o,dag,  a.greeing  in  all  essential  points  with  Mr.  Th.  Ber-k  who 
in  the  Zeitschr.  f.  d.  Alterthumsw.,  1849,  S.  2;12,  \  first  drew  atten- 
tion to  the  importance  of  this  passage  (compare  iii  %  3  :  viv  de 

ot  rtoi  rovg  vrrep  k^/jKovra  err/  aucppovL^ovaiv)  for  fixin<^  the 
year  in  which  Demosthenes  was  born.  Sec  the  dissertation  on 
"Lubulos"  in  Schneidewin's  Philologus,  5.  15.  A  few  errors  have 
crept  into  .Air.  Sauppe's  citations  in  illustration  of  this  Fragment. 
in  those  to  hne  10,  the  reference  must  be  to  Deinarchos,  1,  §  lOS,  HO ; 
and  m  the  note  on  em  yiipcog  ovdu>  to  Lycurgus  against  Leokr.,'§  4o' 
J  ins  lust  expression  has  not  escaped  Mr.  Bab.^who  writes  6fJw  ) 
t>at  tlie  remaining  restorations,  in  which  IMcssrs.  B.  and  S.  coincide, 
.0  has  unfortunately  missed.-20,  2  (viii  =).  Mr.  S.,  following  the 
track  ot  Mr.  Bockh,  writes  (in  the  Orat.  Att.,  1.  c.) :  6l'  dyvour-  [ij 
C(  u'^li  ^'i- '"'''  ^""^  ^"  ^^''^  P^^'^'^^  ^^^r-  ^abington's  dr:eL-]puiv  seems 
cviittn  M^^Q  ^^  ^^^®  subsequent  context  [Karapp7j]ropev&eic,  as 
of  IM    '^    \  ^^  ^  c-'^pital  restoration.     [(To  us  it  smacks  rather 

navT'  4\  ^^   Lucian.     Nor  does    its  import   seem   sufficiently 
h      t   J"i   the  residue  of  the   sentence.     The  Facsimile  exhibits 
•  .  .  yopridug,  with  ev  written  above  the  r}.     The  supplement  of 


72  The  Ncto  Fragmcuts  of  Ihjpcrides.  [January, 

Mr.  S.  gives  too  many  letters  at  the  dose  of  tlic  fourth  line.  For 
these  reasons  •we  prefer  the  rc'cliivi  of  J^>ab. :  r-o  rovron-  /i-[ora]- 
yopevdetg  h'  ru>  l(hKa]oT7j(^)i(,)  ,)  a-:o[,-iarti]rai.  //  Ik  r^ig  7raT[p/(5o$'] 
eK-eoelrai  avr.  .  .)] — 22  (.vi  -),  2.  Messrs.  ]>.  and  Bab.  have  both 
recognised  tl'v?/?,  and  this  is  adopted  by  S.  in  his  second  recension. 
Is  there  in  these  words  an  alhi.>iun  to  the  times  of  the  Battle  of 
Chrcroneia  ?  In  the  conclusion  of  the  J'ragincnt  Mr.  iS.  has  ^vritten : 
ov  rravra  dil[Kaio)g  liv  a'}irui  iiji'-u;  [»'n-,7](;tTo7;(ti'  unt  [d.'j  icnl  G]rro- 
[i$]z'//[o-]ft:o/,u[e]i'  [t'-jp  a]vror  (sci/.  rov  di'iuov.)  [(So  too  J3ab., 
■with  this  exception  that,  follo^vin::;  more  closely  the  traces  of  the  MS., 
which,  at  the  commencement  of  the  eleventh  line,  seems  to  fm-nish 
eid.  . . .,  he  has  edited:  ual.  tl  (5[t()i,  d']-odr/jl_G'}iiotiu:v  instead  of 
Kai  [(h)  Kal  d']-oBvi]ni;oiitt  v.)]  To  the  reception,  also,  oi6[iKakog  dv,'\ 
appropriate  as  it  seems,  some  hesitation  arises  from  the  fact  that  a 
space  of  precisely  the  same  extent  with  this  hiatus  in  the  following 
line  is  occupied  by  the  letters  t-;/  onl}',  and  Bab.,  therefore, 
writes:  diuaiog  avrd)  I'ljitir  ,h'  v-/jpEro7uev, — a  collocation  of  the 
words  which  is  certainly  admissible.  Mr.  B.  has  preferred  dlicai'  di'. 
— '2i  (xi '').  This  I'Vagment  is  so  exceedingly  mutilated  that  little 
more  can  be  inade  out  than  orJjOai  ttK6[va  'X/.f^dvy^Qov  paoi?.l_e:o)r . . . 
The  next  lino  begins  with  KliTlIlOE,  over  which  stands  a  correction 
represented  by  ^Ir.  B.  as  r//  -ov,  and  b}'  ^Ir.  S.  as  tl  rov,  whilst 
Bab.,  Avho  gives  in  plate  1  a  Facsimile  of  the  passage,  supposes, 
but  assuredly  v.-ithout  reason,  that  it  is  a  scholium,  and  cannot  well 
have  been  any  other  word  than  -rodirov.  At  all  events  rov  seems 
certain,  and  the  first  letter  riia}'  also  have  been  rj.  Vie,  however, 
know  just  as  little  as  the  editors,  how  to  deal  Avith  this  lacuna. 

[(In  the  first  line  of  this  colunui  .  .  .  or ,  and  in  the  second 

f:3ov?.e can  be  distinctly  recognised,  and  are  in  fact  ex- 
hibited by  Bab.  Perhaps  we  may  read:  .  .  .  t)7[e  /i'>]i(oadsvT]g'] 
t;3ot/e[r©  'Ad/jVycFi']  orijcrat  dK6[vag  'A/-F.^uv]'5nov  /3aofA[e6J^  nal 
N/]^:?/[f;]  T/"/f  dt[ov  . . .  After  the  OE  avc  imagine  that  the  Facsimile 
exhibits  distinct  traces  of  an  O,  and  it  may  prob:ibly  be  assumed 
that  the  correction  (//  rov)  above  the  line  refers  to  the  combination 
of  the  masculine  form  Ora[-D],  Avith  the  feminine  of  the  article.  Oil 
the  acquiescence  of  Demosthenes  in  the  proposition  submitted  by 
Alexander  respecting  his  own  apotheosis  cf  Deinarch.  against  Demos- 
thenes, c.  di  :  /.iycji'  log  ov  <5d  rov  d/jfiov  duoia;i>jrtlr  ron'  h-  roi 
oiQavdJ  ri^biv  'AAefui'f5()(j),  with  Miitzner's  note,  and  on  the  statue  of 
Alexander  at  Athens,  Pausan.  Attic,  c.  9.)] — 2S  (vi''),  2.  ?^lr.  S. 
edits:  Kai  ro  [.ikv  KarrjyoQelv  h'  rco  diKaorijQU')  Kai  iifcAt'y;\;fn'  roi-g 
el}.')](l)6raq  rd  X9W^~(^  ^^'-  '^V.^ojoofJo/c/y/iorag-  Kara  r/jg  Trar^ldog  7/[//n'] 
T:po[^vJA:ei],  ^tv[ovg  re  Kai  (piXovg']  Karj]l^'0[)ovoi2  •    ro  6[e 


1653.]  The  New  Fragments  of  Hijperides.  73 

f]iA7?<i>6Tac  ...  7/  l3oi'?.7}.  Those  restorations  cannot  possibly  be 
correct :  for  no  guest-friends  of  Hyperides,  or  of  the  other  accusers, 
were  implicated  in  the  matter,  since  the  charge  concerned  Athenians 
alone.  a:id  throughout  this  Oration  there  is  no  recognition  of  Demos- 
thenes as  a  friend  of  the  speaker.  In  our  judgment  Mr.  B.  seems 
to  have  hit  the  truth,  and  with  a  few  trifling  alterations  we  would 
read  :  ?/[/'"']  Trpolcera^e^'  [/}  [3ovX^  TOt^-]  Kai-zflyonotg']  •  rd  (5[e  k^iveiv 
ToiT  (-yt/.rjoarac  ra  xQWo-'o-  K.r.e.  Moreover,  no  other  council  can 
here  be  alluded  to  than  that  of  the  Areopagos,  which  is  expressly 
named  in  the  words  immediately  following. — The  lacuna  between 
vi '  and  xii "  (29,)  Mr.  S.  would  from  the  sense  restore  as  follows : 
(J/OTfp  6eI  Trdvrag  [y'\u\_d(;  u)  uvSpeg  diKaorat  KoXdaaL  rove  iiErac^epetv 
l^iXovrar  in  rT]c  -:o\XeG)g.  We  think  this  suggestion  inadmissible. 
more  especially  on  account  of  the  words  elq  rovg  Td<f)ovg  rovg  ro)y 
rrpoyovcn;  which,  were  it  adopted,  would  stand  in  no  intelligible 
relation  with  the  preceding  or  subsequent  context.  Mr.  B.  has 
properly  refen-cd  to  Deinarch.  against  Demosth.,  §  100,  ff.,  Avhere 
our  whole  passage  seems  to  be  imitated,  and  has  conjectured  as  the 

exordium  :  dio-SQ  Set  r:dvraq  i'lidg dTrofiXixl^avTag  k.  t.  e. ; — the 

iirst  infinitive  which  depends  on  del  being  ruuoQriGaadaL  roi-g  dSi- 
hoirvrag.  In  //.  14,  15  (xii%  1)  d/.Xrjv  is  not  completely  preserved. 
Mr.  3^.  thinks  that  dP.[Ad]  kqi  may  be  distinguished. — 30  (xii  *>). 
At  the  close  of  this  Fragment  we  believe  that  the  sense  requires : 
OLTW  Kat  A7]itO'7d£V7]g  TL  -Qog  [I'ytac]  KXan]aei,  [k^bv  avr^i]  f.n)  ?mu- 

(idvFLV. 

So  far  the  Fragments  before  us  may  be  confidently  assigned 
to  the  Oration  against  Demosthenes.  •There  still  remain  three 
passages  which  decidedly  do  not  belong  to  it,  and  seven  others  (xx, 
\xiii,  xxiv,  xxix,  xxx,  xxxi,  xxxii)  with  which  nothing  can  be  done, 
since  they  contain  only  single  words  or  a  fcAV  letters  and  flourishes ; 

e.  g.,  Fr.  XX N  .  . .  IIK.  .  .  .  0  .  .  .  n  .  .,  Fr.  xxix,  [rrJEIIOM^E. 

The  three  passages  first  alluded  to  (ix,  xiii,  xvii)  are  printed  sepa- 
rately by  all  the  editors.  It  is  clear,  as  Buckh  has  most  correctly 
explained,  that  ix  and  xiii  form  part  of  the  exordium  of  a  Defence 
again.?t  a  public  prosecution.  The  same  scholar  (as  also  iMr.  S.) 
at  first  considered  Fr.  xvii  as  a  portion  of  an  Oration  respecting  an 
inbvritance,"but  as  a  more  attentive  investigation  convinced  him 
that  this  is  by  no  means  a  necessary  supposition,  he  subsequently 
att<-tnf,ted  to  prove  it,  as  suspected  by  Mr.  Bab.,  part  of  the  same 
Apology  as  ix  and  xiii.  Sauppe  has  advanced  conclusive  reasons 
&;?im5t  tiiis  liypothesis  in  the  Orat.  Att.  ii,  352  ^,  22,  2s^ote.  The 
c<litort»,  however,  unanimously  pronounce  them  Fragments  from  the 
i^^K-eclKS  uf  Hyperides. 

Foi-KTii  ScKiEs.  Vol.  V.— 5 


74  The  New  Fragments  of  Hyperides.         [January, 

To  the  illustration  of  these  Fra<];ments  the  commentary  of  Messrs. 
B.  and  S.  has  made  important  contributions.  Mr.  Babington  con- 
fines himself  principally  to  the  quotation  of  parallel  passages  from 
the  grammarians  and  other  ancient  writers,  which  he  has  taken 
diligent  pains  to  collect,  but  with  which  he  often  intermingles  much 
unnecessary  matter,  as  c.  g.  in  the  note  on  5,  5  (iv  <=),  where  he 
elucidates  ^euqlkov  by  citing  the  well-known  passage  from  Harpo- 
kration ;  and  again  in  that  on  20,  24  (xiv '),  where  the  same  authors 
enuuioration.  of  the  three  Gymnasia  is  in  like  manner  brought  for- 
ward in  explanation  of  ■Xfca(5i]niag.  Wc  have  noticed  also  several 
errors  in  interpretation,  as  e.  g.  in  understanding  v~d  rovrcdv  20,  4 
(viii ')  to  refer  to  the  Areopagites,  where  the  Sycophants,  with  whom 
Hyperides  includes  Demosthenes,  are  evidently  meant.  Sauppe 
lias  conferred  a  special  service  by  his  luminous  treatment  (in  the 
Philologus,  p.  G4T)  of  the  question  as  to  the  importance  of  the  dis- 
closures made  by  these  Fragments  in  reference  to  the  personal 
characteristics  of  Hyperides,  and  the  nature  of  the  legal  proceedings 
instituted  respecting  the  Harpalian  treasure,  as  also  by  his  brief 
but  comprehensive  delineation  of  the  course  and  circumstances  of 
this  ^singular  prosecution.  The  result  at  which  he  arrives  is  that 
Demosthenes,  through  the  combined  action  of  the  JMacedonian  faction 
and  of  those  among  their  opponents  who  were  for  war  with  Alexander 
at  any  price,  was  implicated  without  any  fault  on  his  part  in  the 
triol  referred  to,  and  by  its  instrumentality  overthrown.  The  party 
VJ\i\\  whom  he  had  acted,  and  to  which  Hyperides  also  belonged, 
could  not  forgive  him  for  having  restrained  the  xVthenians  from 
plunging  for  the  sake  of  Harpalos  into  a  contest  that  must  necessarily 
have  terminated  in  the  total  ruin  of  their  city. 

Upon  one  question  Sauppe  has  only  touched,  and  excused 
liimsclf  for  the  present  from  its  more  precise  investigation, — we 
mean  the  relation  of  the  Oration  of  Deinarchos  to  that  of  Hyperides. 
"We  hope  that  at  a  later  period  he  will  pursue  further  the  intimations 
he  has  given.  Important  doubts  have  been  already  expressed  against 
the  Oration  of  Deinarchos  abstractedly  considered  (cf.  Westcrmann, 
Qufcst.  Demosth.  3,  118,  ff.),  and  to  these  it  may  be  added  that  it 
now  nppears  to  be  a  mere  copy  of  the  Oration  before  us.  So  at  last 
respect  will  be  paid  to  the  judgment  of  the  often  unduly  despised 
Dcinetrios  of  Magnesia  (whom  Bentlcy,  Opusc,  p.  372,  calls  sumnwm 
critiann.  afquc  historici/m)  in  the  sentences  preserved  b}'  Dionysius 
in  his  dissertation  upon  Deinarchos,  c.  1 :  icai  voiiiaeu-v  dv  -tg  evijdeir 
€ivaL  Tor^-  v-r:o?Mj36vrag  rov  Xoyov  rov  Kara  ^rjnooSh'ovg  eivac  rov- 
Tov  •  7T0?.v  yap  drrexn  rov  ■\;ap«ft-r7/(>of  •  d?J'  o/zw^-  roaovrov  OKOrog 
eTTirre-KoXuKev,  uxyre  roi-g  pxv  uXXovg  avrov  koyovc,  oxeddv  vrreg  e^- 


1S53.]  Hengstenhcrg  on  the  Pentateuch.  lb 

t'lKOiTa  Kai  EKarov  ovrag,  ayvoelv  avfifiKfSrjKe,  rov  6e  /ti]  -yQaxbevra 
r-r'  airov  jun'ov  kKsivov  voi-u^cadai.  Before  our  Fragments  were 
iliscovcretl,  wc  entertained  tlic  opinion  that  the  three  Orations  upon 
the  trial  of  Ilarpalos,  which  are  imputed  to  Dcinarchos,  were  not 
actually  delivered  hefore  the  court,  but  were  to  be  regarded  as  model 
speeches  or  scholastic  performances,  although  we  saw  no  reason  for 
denying  them  to  be  the  production  of  Deinarchos,  especially  since 
Dionysius  (c.  10)  enumerates  them  amongst  his  genuine  compositions. 
Now,  however,  we  no  longer  doubt  that  they  are  of  later  manufacture, 
and  accelerated  by  their  divulgation  the  loss  of  the  genuine  speeches 
of  Deinarchos. 


AuT.  v.— IIENGSTENBERG  ON  THE  PENTATEUCH. 

DUiti  tat  ions  on  the  Gcnuine}icss  of  the  Pentateuch.  ByRAV.  Hexgstexeekg,  D.  D., 
Professor  of  Theology  in  the  University  of  Berlin.  Translated  from  the  Ger- 
man, by  J.  E.  Ryla>d.     Edinburgh,  1847. 

In  the  introduction  to  these  volumes,  Dr.  Hengstenberg  enters  into 
a  discussion  of  the  causes  of  the  denial  of  the  genuineness  of  the 
Pentateuch,  and  gives  us  the  views  of  some  of  the  most  eminent 
theologians  and  historians  on  the  subject,  lie  shows  that  it  is 
not  for  the  want  of  historical  and  traditional  evidence  that  its 
genuiueuoss  is  denied — nor  for  the  absence  of  that  kind  of  proof 
which  leads  the  critic  to  acknowledge  the  genuineness  (>f  Herodotus, 
Thucydides,  or  Joscphus — but  that  the  consequence  of  its  acknowl- 
edgment is  the  real  cause  of  it.  For  if  Moses  wrote  the  Pentateuch, 
its  last  four  books,  at  least,  must  contain  matters  of  fact,  real  7nira- 
clcs  and  prophecies,  which  the  Rationalists  as  much  abhor  as  nature 
docs  a  vacuum.  Setting  out  with  what  is  a  mere  petitio principii, — 
the  impossibility,  at  least  the  violent  improbability,  of  miracles  and 
prophecies — they  deny  the  genuineness  of  every  writing  which  would 
establish  them.-  The  Rationalists  act  in  direct  opposition  to  the 
rule  laid  down  by  Bacon,  the  father  of  experimental  philosophy,  that 
wc  arc  first  to  collect /ac/,9,  and  then  form  our  theory. 

Another  cause  of  the  denial  of  its  genuineness,  is  a  misapprchen- 
8!on  of  its  spirit  and  doctrines.     Wherever  principles  are  inculcated 

"^  ^Vi>  haTft  a  remarkable  instance  of  this  in  Strauss,  who,  in  the  third  edition 
«>f  hU  I.jf<.  of  Josus,  seemed  disposed  to  abandon  his  objections  to  the  gcntiiuciiei?^ 
tf  the  Uu-.|^l  of  John,  but  iu  the  fourth  edition  resumed  them  again,  iiruicifally, 
ifci  hf  .•.jn'.-^^fs.  Kcauso  "  witliout  them  one  couM  not  escape  from  believing  the 
luir.t-  h-ii  of  ChrisL" 


76  Hengstenhcrg  on  the  Pentateuch.  [January, 

"which  are  regarded  as  inconsistent  Avith  the  divine  character,  the  sus- 
picion is  started  that  they  did  not  proceed  from  Mot^es.  But  where 
dogmatic  prejudices  do  not  exist,  the  genuineness  of  the  Pentateuch 
is  acknowledged ;  and  it  is  pleasing  to  see  the  ablest  historians,  even  in 
Germany,  take  the  side  of  orthodoxy  on  this  subject,  llccren,*  Jolm 
Von  MuUer,  Wachler,  Loo,  Ranke,  and  Idelcr,  acknowledge  it.  So, 
it  would  seem,  does  Yon  Rotteck.  Schlosser  admits  that  the  princi- 
pal portions  of  the  Pentateuch  proceeded  from  Moses,  and  Luden 
thinks  that  the  greater  part  of  the  Jewish  history  is  evidently  true. 

The  arguments  in  proof  of  its  genuineness  are  so  cogent,  that  some 
of  the  Rationalists  themselves  admit  the  Mosaic  authorship  of  its 
principal  portions.  Eichhorn,  in  the  first  edition  of  his  Introduction 
to  the  Old  Testament,  asserted  the  genuineness  of  the  whole,  a  fevy' 
interpolations  excepted;  but  in  the  last  edition  he  modified  his 
views,  and  considered  that  some  parts  of  the  Pentateuch  were  wi-itten 
by  Moses  himself,  and  the  rest  by  sonic  of  his  contemporaries.  Gese- 
nius,  who  belonged  to  the  same  party,  was,  it  appears,  during  the 
most  of  his  life,  an  advocate  of  the  late  origin  of  the  Pentateuch; 
yet  he  subsequently  modified  his  views,  and  in  the  eleventh  edition 
of  his  Hebrew  Grammar,!  he  remarks,  doubtfully,  that  '"it  is  still 
a  subject  of  critical  controversy  whether  the  Pentateuch  proceeded 
either  wholly,  or  in  part,  from  Moses." 

Dr.  Ilengstenberg  expresses  very  strongly  his  indignation  at  the 
manner  in  which  the  Pentateuch  has  been  attacked.  In  reference 
to  De  Wette,  he  says:  " X  criticism  so  ridiculously  absurd  as  his,  if 
it  had  been  directed  against  the  genuineness  of  a  profane  writer,  or 
against  a  portion  of  profane  histoiy,  would  now  be  considered  as 
bcivjg  quite  out  of  date,  or  would  only  have  sufficed  to  confer  on  its 
author  the  unenviable  celebrity  of  a  IIardonin."j  And  he  says  fur- 
ther, in  reference  to  the  principal  oppugners  of  its  genuineness: 
"  They  are  systematically  ignorant  of  the  ablest  vindications  of  the 
genuineness  of  the  Pentateuch.  They  do  not  read  them,  much  less 
refute  them."     These  strictures  are  perfectly  just. 

The  most  natural  way  to  establish  the  genuineness  of  the  Penta- 
teuch, is  to  show  that  it  has  existed  ever  since  the  time  of  Moses, 
and  has  always  borne  his  name.  That  it  has  existed  ever  since  the 
return  of  the  Jews  from  the  Babylonian  captivity,  is  admitted  by  all 
parties ;  but  some  of  the  Deists  and  Rationalists  contend  that  it 

'-  Ilocren  has-uot  cxprcs.setl  himself  as  fully  as  some  of  tLe  otliers;  Le  neTer- 
tlicle.«.s  rcgard.s  tlie  Li.story  in  the  rentateuuh  a.s  true. 

t  Professor  Conant's  translation,  p.  8. 
X   \  k.  Jesuit  ill  the  seventeenth  century,  who  denied  the  genuineness  of  the  his- 
tories of  Tacitus,  Livv.  A;c. 


1S53.]  Hcngstenherg  on  the  Peniaicuch.    "  77 

was  composed  during  that'  period.     This,  however,  is  refuted  by  the 
allusions  made  to  it  in  books  written  before  that  event.     The  earlier 
defenders  of  the  Pentateuch  appealed  to  the  Samaritan  copy,  as  fur- 
nishing conclusive  proof  of  the  existence  and  authority  of  the  Pen- 
tateuch among  the  ten  tribes  of  Israel.     Our  author/in  discussiu" 
Uio  claims  of  the  Samaritan  Pentateuch,  first  inquires.  Who  ivcre 
the  Samaritans  ?   and  he  supports  the  hypothesis  of  their  purely 
Jicathen  origin  with  much  acuteness  and  learning.     In  tills  opinion 
bo  ]s  foUowed  by  Havernick  and  Robinson.     Most  critics,  however 
are  of  opinion  that  they  were  a  inixed  people,  composed  of  Isra- 
elites and  heathens,  and  that  Shalmaneser  did  not  remove  all  the 
inhabitants  from  the  kingdom  of  Israel,  but  simply  the  most  of 
them,  and  incorporated  some  of  his   o^^^l  subjects  with  the  rem- 
nant. 2  Jvmgs  xvii.     This  latter  view  Dr.  Davidson  adopts.  Kit- 
to  s  Oycl   Lib.  Lit.      It  may  well  be  questioned  whether  sufficient 
data  exist  upon  wliich  we  can  form  an  opinion,   with  any  de^ee 
of  probabihty.     It  would  seem,  a  priori,  very  improbable  that  a/Z 
the   Israelites  were  carried   away  by  Shalmaneser.      Nor  is  the 
dccWation.  ;;  There  was  none  left  but  the  tribe  of  Judah  only" 
(-  Kings  xvii,  18,)  to  be  pressed  upon.      There  is  no  more  reason 
for  mtei-pretmg  the  "none"  absolutely,  than  there  is  for  thus  inter- 
preting the  "«//"  in  Matt,  iii,  5,  where  it  is  said  there  went  out  to 
John  the  Laptist  all  Judea.     Dr.  Hengstenberg  lays  a  great  deal  of 
stress  upon  the  representation  that  is  given  of  the  colonists'  bein- 
.gnorant  of  the  knowledge  of  God,  which  made  it  necessary  for  the 
King  of  Assyria  to  send  back  to  them  a  captive  priest  to  teach  them 
the  way  of  the  Cxod  of  Israel,  (2  Kings  xvii,  27,)  which  he  thinks 
Clear  J  shows  that  there  was  no  one  in  the  land  capable  of  instruct- 
ing them  ;  1.  c,  no  Israelite.     This,  however,  would  only  prove  that 
IJli  t he  priests  had  been  carried  away.     That  our  Saviour  and  his 
'-jpostles  treated  the  Samaritans    as  heathens,  affords  no  proof  of 
leir  purely  heathen  origin.     Their  being  principally  of  heathen  ex- 
KKtion  cut  them  off  from  Jewish  privileges.     We  have  an  illustra- 
tion of  this  m  the  mulattoes  of  our  own  country;  for,  thou-di  they 
ar    de  cena,„,,  of  .•/.-...  and  negroes,  they  aJ^'gen^rallylniJed 
thc^ro  f  Tn'^rf  •     '^"^  '''  '^  '""^^'^  ^y  "^  ^^^^^"S  improbable  that 
^f  tErten  tribef  ''"'''''  ^'''''^^''■''"''  "^^^^i-^-et^  ^vith  the  remnant 

J^^T^^'!^  °^  ^^''  Israelitish  origin  of  the  Samaritans,  our 
•iTor.N  r  r  *^^'^  ^^''  "^-''^  '^  ^^''  Samaritans  having  a  Pentateuch 
(nn<f.-r  ?r  7'"'^  ""^  '^^  existence  among  the  ten  tri'bes,  and  of  its 
the  ^.in.  -U?  ,  •  "''  ^"^  ^'^^■"^-  f^e  t'^^"k^  it  quite  possible  th:it 
tlic  .,  amantar,s  derived  their  Pentateuch  from  the  Jew.      But  here 


78  Hengstenherg  on  the  Pentateuch.  [Januar}^, 

he  is  met  ^N'ith  the  ohjectiou,  that  the  animosity  existing  between 
them  and  the  Jews  woukl  have  prevented  it.  To  this  he  rephes, 
that  the  animosity  was  principal!}^  on  the  part  of  the  Jews  against 
the  Samaritans,  and  that  the  hitter  very  readily  received  the  small- 
est favom-  from  the  former.  And  he  observes  :  "  The  Samaritans 
possessed  a  tln-eefold  translation  of  the  Pentateuch, — a  Greek,  a 
Samaritan,  and  an  Arabic  version.  Not  one  of  these  versions  is  an 
independent  production  of  their  own:  all  three  serve  to  show  their 
dependence  on  the  Jews ;" — that  their  Samaritan  version*  is  founded 
on  the  Chaldee  of  Oiikelos ;  t  and  that  the  Samaritan  Pentateuch  it- 
self has  very  frequently,  in  the  text,  the  conjectures  which  stand  in 
the  ]MasoreLic  manuscripts  as  K'  ri,  which  are  certainly  of  Jewish  ori- 
gin. The  Samaritan  Pentateuch  also  agrees  iu  more  than  two  thou- 
sand places  with  the  Septuagint  where  it  differs  from  the  Hebrew. 
For  these  reasons  and  some  others,  Dr.  Hengstenherg  regards  the 
Jewish  origin  of  the  Samaritan  I'entateuch  as  by  no  means  improb- 
able, and  he  thinks  that  the  Samaritans  pbtained  it  in  order  to  sup- 
port their  claims  to  an  Israelitish  origin. 

On  the  other  hand,  it  has  been  contended  that  the  priest  who  was 
sent  by  the  Assyrian  king  to  instruct  the  colonists  whom  he  had 
transplanted  in  the  kingdom  of  Israel,  must  have  had  a  Pentateuch, 
and  that  there  must  have  been  copies  of  the  book  of  the  law  among 
the  remnant  of  the  ten  tribes.  That  the  Samaritani  Pentateuch  is 
an  independent  copy,  transmitted  from  the  time  of  Rehoboam, 
through  the  ten  tribes,  has  Ijc^n  held  by  Morin,  Iloubigant,  Capel- 
kis,  Kennicott,  ]\lichaelis,  Kichhorn,  Bauer,  Bertholdt,  Stuart,  and 
others.  This  is  not  improbable,  when  once  it  is  proved  that  the 
Pentateuch  existed  among  the  ten  tribes. 

Abandoning  the  Samaritan  Pentateuch,  as  furnishing  no  proof  of 
the  reception  of  the  Pentateuch  among  the  ten  tribes.  Dr.  Hengsten- 
herg proceeds  to  show,  by  positive  proof  from  other  sources,  that  it 
certainly  was  received  by  them.  His  first  proof  is  the  Prophet 
Hosea,  who  began  to  prophesy  about  785  13.  C.  This  book  con- 
tains many  allusions  to  the  Pentateuch,  showing  that  it  was  well 
kno\\'n  to  the  proi)het.  Some  of  the  instances  selected  by  our  au- 
thor may  be  doubtful;  but  after  making  due  allowances  for  acciden- 
tal circumstances,  it  must  be  acknowledged  that  the  numerous  coin- 

°  The  reailcv  must  distinguisli  between  the  Samaritan  Pentateuch  itself,  and  a 
version  of  it  made  at  a  later  period. 

t  Onkclos  died  E.  C.  GO. 

I  Some  of  tlie  earlier  critics  attached  a  great  deal  of  importance  to  the  Samar- 
itan Pentateuch.  Dr.  Kennicott  rc^aiiled  it  as  equal  to  the  Hebrew  in  value. 
But  Gosenius,  in  his  able  dis.sertatioiis  upon  it,  has  ruined  its  authority,  by  show- 
ing that  it  abounds  in  frequent  alterations  of  the  original  Hebrew  Pentateuch. 


1S53.3  Hengstcnberg  on  the  Pentateuch.  79 

cidoaces  between  the  prophet  and  the  Pentateuch,  prove  the  exist- 
ence of  the  latter  at  that  age.  In  the  following  passage  there  is  a 
dear  reference  to  a  vrritten  law  :  "I  have  written  to  him  (that  is,  to 
Kphruini,  who  was  of  the  ten  tribes)  the  great  things  of  mj  law," 
viii,  I'J;  the  latter  part  of  which  Dr.  Hengstenberg  translates,  the 
mvllttude  (literally,  the  mi/riad)  of  my  law.  This  obviously  refers 
to  the  numerous  precepts  of  the  Mosaic  law. 

Our  author  next  proceeds  to  notice  "  the  traces  of  the  PcntateucJi 
in  Amosy  *  The  allusions  in  this  prophet  to  the  Pentateuch  he  re- 
gards as  very  valuable,  from  the  fact  that  he,  one  of  the  common 
people,  "  a  herdman  and  gatherer  of  sycamore  fruit,"  was  so  well 
acquainted  with  it,  which  shows  that  it  was  well  known  among  the 
people  at  lar^e  in  Judea,  of  Avhich  country  the  prophet  originally 
was ;  and  it  would  seem  to  have  been  known  also  among  the  ten 
tribes,  to  whom  the  prophet  principally  addi'csscd  himself,  since  he 
manifests  such  a  strong  tendency  to  introduce  the  very  words 
of  the  Pentateuch.  And,  further,  it  is  shown  "  that  the  whole  Isra- 
elitisli  system  of  religion,  with  the  exception  of  the  deviations  in> 
troduccd  by  Jeroboam,  was  strictly  in  accordance  with  the  prescrip- 
tions of  the  Pentateuch."  The  references  in  this  prophet  to  the 
Pentateuch  are  very  numerous.  "We  can  give  only  a  few  of  them : 
"  And  led  you  forty  years  through  the  wilderness ;"  chap,  ii,  10  : — 
exactly  as  in  Deut.  xxix,  5,  with  the  exception  of  the  transposition 
of  one  word.  "  And  I  raised  up  of  your  young  men  for  Nazarites : 
but  ye  gave  the  Nazaritcs  wine  to  drink ;"'  ii,  11,  12.  Compare  this 
with  ><um.  vi.  The  order  of  the  Kazarites,  according  to  the  pre- 
Bcriptions  of  the  Pentateuch,  was  in  existence  in  the  kingdom  of 
Israel.  Chap,  iii,  2  :  "  You  only  have  I  known  of  all  the  families  of 
the  earth;"  evidently  referring  to  Deut.  xiv,  2 :  "  The  Lord  hath  chosen 
thee  to  be  a  peculiar  people  imto  himself,  above  all  the  nations  that 
are  upon  the  earth."  Chap,  iv,  4 :  "Bring  your  sacrifices  every  morn- 
ing, and  yoiu:  tithes  every  three  days  ;"  (English  version,  after  three 
years.)  Compare  this  with  ISIum.  xxviii,  3  and  Deut.  xiv,  28,  in 
which  latter  passage  it  is  commanded:  "At  the  end  of  thi-ce  years 
thou  shalt  bring  forth  all  the  tithe,"  itc.  "  Offer  a  sacrifice  of 
thanksgiving  with  leaven,"  (iv,  5..)  in  allusion  to  Lev.  ii,  11.  Li  the 
following  passage  there  is  a  clear  allusion  to  the  Passover  and  the 
i'oast  of  Tabernacles :  "I  hate,  I  despise  your  feast-days,  and  1  will 
not  8UU-11  in  your  solemn  assemblies.  Though  ye  offer  me  burnt- 
ofTeriugs  and  your  meat-offerings,  1  Avill  not  accept  them ;  neither 
will  I  ro-ard  the  thank-offerings  [z\i)  of  your  fat  beasts ;"  v,  21,  22. 
In  vjji,  r»,  mention  is  made  of  the  new  moon  and  the  sabbath. 
"  Amos  prophesied  7S7  B.  C. 


80  Hengstenherg  on  the  Pentateuch.  [January, 

Next  follow  the  traces  of  the  Pentateuch  in  the  Books  of  Kings. 
Here,  too,  the  allusions  to  the  Pentateuch  are  quite  numerous,  a  few 
of  which  wo  shall  give :  "  As  the  Lord  God  of  Israel  liveth,  before 
whom  I  stand,  there  shall  not  be  dew  nor  rain  these  years,  but  ac- 
cording to  my  word."  1  Kings  xvii,  1.  Compare  these  words  ad- 
dressed to  Ahab,  king  of  Israel,  with  Deut.  xi,  17:  "And  the 
Lord's  Avrath  be  kindled  against  you,  and  he  shut  up  the  heaven  that 
there  be  no  rain."  The  sacrifices  that  were  offered  by  Elijah  and 
the  false  prophets  of  Baal,  in  their  contest,  were  in  accordance  with 
the  directions  of  the  Pentateuch.  Compare  1  Kings  xviii,  23,  33, 
with  Lev.  i,  G-8.  "  Because  thou  hast  let  go  out  of  thy  hand  a  man 
whom  I  appointed  to  utter  destruction,  therefore  thy  life  shall  go 
for  his  hfe,  and  thy  people  for  his  people ;"  xx,  -12.  This  corre- 
sponds to  the  Pentateuch :  "  Is  one  devoted,  which  shall  be  devoted 
of  men,  shall  be  redeemed,  but  shall  be  surc-ly  put  to  death."  Lev. 
xxvii,  29.  In  chap,  xxi,  3,  Naboth  says  to  Ahab :  "  The  Lord  forbid 
it  me,  that  I  should  give  the  inheritance  of  my  fathers  unto  thee." 
This  refers  to  Lev.  xxv,  23  :  "  The  land  shall  not  be  sold  forever,  fgr 
the  land  is  mine;"  and  to  Num.  xxxvi,  8:  "That  the  children  of 
Israel  may  enjoy  every  man  the  inheritance  of  his  fathers."  Ahab's 
wicked  stratagem  to  seize  upon  an  unlawful  possession,  contains  an 
allusion  to  the  Pentateuch:  "And  set  two  men,  sons  of  Belial, 
before  him,  to  bear  witness  against  him,  saying.  Thou  didst  blaspheme 
God  and  the  king,"  A:g.  ;  x.xi,  10.  \i\  capital  offences,  by  the  law  of 
Moses,  two  T.itnesses  were  required.  Num.  xxxv,  30.  Reference  is 
also  made  to  Exodus  xxii,  28,  where  it  is  forbidden  to  revile  God 
(English  version,  the  gods)  or  curse  the  ruler.  In  2  Kings  iv,  1, 
a  woman  says  to  Elisha :  "  The  creditor  is  come  to  take  unto  liim 
my  two  sons  to  be  servants."  The  creditor  had  a  right  to  do  so 
according  to  the  law.  Lev.  xxv,  39.  In  verse  16,  Elisha  says  to  the 
Shunemite:  "'About  this  season,  according  to  the  time  of  life,  thou 
Shalt  embrace  a  son."  This  singular  expression  is  taken  from  Gen. 
xviii,  10,  14.  In  verse  23,  it  is  said,  it  is  neither  new  moon  nor 
sabbath,  showing  that  both  these  festivals  were  observed  in  the  land 
of  Israel.  The  ministry  of  the  prophets  in  the  kuigdom  of  Israel, 
Dr.  llengstonberg  regards  as  -'  an  inexplicable  enigma,  unless  on 
the  supposition  of  the  public  introduction  of  the  Pentateuch." 

He  next  notices  the  clenr  allusions  to  the  Pcntatcudi,  made  hij 
Jcrohoaia  ivhc/i  he  instituted  the  calf -worship  m  the  kingdom  of 
Israel :  "  Behold  thy  gods,  0  Israel,  which  brought  thee  up  out  of 
the  laud  of  Egypt."  1  Kings  xii,  28.  Compare  this  with  the  in- 
stitution of  the  same  form  of  worship  by  xVaron  in  the  wilderness : 
"  These  be  thy  gods,  0  Israel,  which  brought  thee  up  out  of  the 


1653.]  Hengstenherg  on  the  Pentateuch.  81 

land  of  E^rvpt."  Exodus  xxxii,  4.  And  when  he  had  established 
this  calf-worship,  and  had  forbidden  his  subjects  to  go  up  to  Jeru- 
salem to  attend  divine  serNace,  the  priests  and  Levites  left  the  ten 
tribes  aijil  betook  themselves  to  the  kingdom  of  Judah :  "  And  after 
them  out  of  all  the  tribes  of  Israel,  such  as  set  their  hearts  to  seek 
tl\o  Lord  God  of  Israel,  came  to  Jerusalem  to  sacrifice  to  the  Lord 
Cod  of  their  fathers."  The  Levites  gave  up  their  whole  earthly 
means  of  subsistence;  and  Dr.  Hengstenherg  observes  that  the 
reason  of  their  conduct  "  could  rest  iipon  nothing  but  the  clear  letter 
of  the  hiw,  the  violation  of  which  must  brand  its  ministers,  as  they 
indeed  felt,  even  in  the  eyes  of  those  who  desired  it  from  them,  and 
shared  it  with  them.  Why  should  the  pious  go  from  Israel  to  Je- 
i-usalera  to  offer  sacrifices  there?  Why  should  Jeroboam  consider 
it  absolutely  necessary  to  forbid  the  pilgrimage  to  Jerusalem? 
Why  did  so  many  citizens  of  the  kingdom  of  the  ten  tribes  leave 
their  houses  and  possessions  to  sojourn  as  strangers  in  Judah? 
AVhy,  but  for  this  reason,  that  the  Pentateuch  strictly  required  one 
sanctuary,  distinguished  the  ark  of  the  covenant  as  the  only  sanc- 
tuary of  the  nation,  and  stigmatized  the  worship  of  images."— P.  208. 
And  when  Jeroboam  celebrated  the  Feast  of  Tabernacles,  he  altered 
merely  the  month  and  retained  the  day  of  the  month,  the  15th,  so 
as  to  depart  as  little  as  possible  from  the  jMosaic  law.  The  sacred 
historian  also  observes  that  it  was  "  in  the  month  which  he  had  de- 
vised of  his  ov,-n  heart,"  1  Kings  xii,  33 ;  which  is  an  allusion  to 
Kum.  xvi,  '!><,  where  Moses  says  in  reference  to  his  works,  "I  have 
not  devised  them  of  mine  own  heart." 

The  arguments  which  Paulus,  De  Wette,  and  Gesenius  have 
brought  against  the  existence  of  the  Pentateuch  among  the  ten 
tribes  at  the  time  of  the  separation  of  the  two  kingdoms,  are  next 
answered :  "  The  introduction  of  Jeroboam's  form  of  worship,  say 
they,  implies  the  non-existence  of  the  Pentateuch.  Could  Jeroboam 
have  undertaken  to  introduce  a  worship  Avliich  is  so  directly  opposed 
to  a  reiterated  law  of  the  Pentateuch  ?  How  could  he,  if  he  found 
the  Pentateuch  in  the  hands  of  his  subjects,  choose  exactly  that 
image  for  the  national  god,  which  their  ancestors  in  the  wilderacss 
had  rcboUiously  set  up  ?  Would  it  not  have  been  a  mockery  of  this 
statute-book  of  their  religion,  if  Jeroboam  had  introduced  the  an- 
cient idolatry  with  the  identical  words  employed  by  Aaron,  when 
hf  erected  the  golden  calf?" 

"  Uoasoning  a  priori,  this  argument  has  considerable  plausibility, 
provi.U-d  attention  be  not  paid  to  the  nature  of  the  human  mind, 
and  the  facts  of  history.  But  on  examining  it  more  closely,  it  loses 
all  force.     The  history  of  all  religions  shows,  that  in  their  sacred 


82  Hengstenherg  on  the  Pentateuch.  [January, 

records,  no  commandment  or  proliibition  has  existed,  lio-\vever  clear 
and  distinct,  Avhicli  a  M-ron^  bias  has  not  attempted,  by  all  the  arts 
■which  a  mind  averse  from  the  truth  has  at  command,  to  free  itself 
from  -without  impugning  the  authority  of  the  original  record.  By 
such  argumentation  as  the  above,  how  plainly  it  could  be  shown 
that  the  Scriptures  were  not  in  existence  in  the  sixteenth  century, 
or,  in  short,  that  they  never  existed  I  To  take  only  one  out  of  nu- 
merous examples :  What  a  plausible  proof  of  the  non-existence  of 
the  ^^ew  Testament  might  be  dra-wn  from  the  present  practice  of 
divorces,  and  the  marriages  of  the  divorced  by  the  ministers  of  the 
Church?  The  expressions  relating  to  this  subject  in  the  i!»Jew"  Tes- 
tament, are  quite  as  decided  and  clear  as  the  expressions  in  the 
Pentateuch,  which  Jeroboam  explained  away." — Pp.  208,  209.  The 
adoration  paid  by  the  Papists  to  images,  we  think,  would  be  a  striking 
illustration ;  for  the  second  commandment  strictly  forbids  the  bow- 
ing down  to  any  image.  Their  refusal  to  give  the  laity  the  cup  in 
the  administration  of  the  Lord's  Supper,  in  violation  of  Christ's 
positive  command,  is  another  instance  in  point. 

Dr.  Hengstenherg  thus  concludes  his  observations  on  the  traces 
of  the  Pentateuch,  in  the  Books  of  Kings  :  "  We  have  now'  proved 
that  the  Pentateuch,  from  the  time  of  the  separation  of  the  two 
kingdoms,  was  in  existence,  and  legally  introduced  among  the  ten 
tribes.  Having  gained  this  position,  we  can  with  greater  security 
advance  farther.  The  expedients  which  Jeroboam  employed  in  or- 
der to  bring  his  innovations  into  agreement  with  the  Pentateuch, 
and  to  set  aside  the  prerogatives  of  Judah,  were  so  violent,  that  the 
choice  of  these  desperate  measures  is  only  conceivable  by  admitting 
that  the  conviction  was  general  among  the  people,  that  the  Penta- 
teuch, as  a  complete  whole,  had  Moses  for  its  author,  and  was  the 
common  property  of  the  whole  nation.  Beside,  what  Avould  have 
been  more  convenient  than  to  have  rejected  either  the  whole,  or  such 
parts  as  were  unsuited  for  his  purpose,  as  interpolated  or  forged?" 

"  How  could  a  conviction  of  the  authenticity  of  the  Pentateuch, 
diffused  among  a  whole  people  in  the  time  of  Jeroboam,  be  othei'- 
wise  accounted  for,  than  on  the  ground  of  its  truth?  It  adds  to  the 
difficulty  of  any  other  explanation,  that  the  composition  of  the  Pen- 
tateuch cannot  be  placed  in  the  period  of  the  Judges,  on  account  of 
the  peculiar  circumstances  of  those  times.  There  remains,  therefore, 
only  the  age  of  David  and  Solomon.  .  But  to  be  able  to  secure  the 
reception  of  the  Pentateuch  as  a  book  of  Closes,  if  not  composed 
till  a  period  immediately  preceding  that  in  Avhich  there  would  be  a 
most  powerful  interest  to  maintain  the  contrary,  would  indeed  be  a 
task!"— P.  212. 


1853.]  Hengstenherg  on  the  Pentateuch.  ■   83 

The  names  of  God  in  the  Pentateuch  are  next  discussed.  Who- 
ever reads  ^vith  any  degi'ce  of  attention  the  first  chapters  of  Gene- 
sis, cannot  fail  to  observe  the  singular  fact,  that  in  different  sections 
dificrent  names  are  given  to  the  Creator.  In  the  first  chapter  and  in 
a  part  of  the  second,  he  is  called  Elohim,  God ;  -while  in  the  remain- 
ing part  of  the  section,  and  in  nearly  all  the  third,  he  is  called  Jeho- 
vah Elohim,  Lord  God.  Also,  in  various  other  places  in  Genesis, 
Elohim  is  confined  to  one  portion  and  Jehovah  to  another.  This 
cUstinction  could  not  have  been  accidental; — in  the  explanation 
of  it,  ho-^-ever,  there  has  been  a  difference  of  opinion.  The  adver- 
saries of  the  Pentateuch  regard  it  as  a  proof  of  the  fragmentary 
character  of  the  work — as  an  indication  that  it  was  composed  by 
several  writers.  On  the  otlier  hand,  some  very  eminent  Biblical 
critics  take  the  gi'ound  that  the  subject-matter  of  different  portions 
of  the  Pentateuch  required  tliis  distinction  in  the  divine  names  ; 
that  the  name  of  the  Deity  always  agrees  with  the  office  ascribed  to 
him ;  that  the  occasion  on  which  it  is  used  is  always  appropriate. 
"With  these  latter  critics,  Dr.  Hengstenherg  agrees,  and  discusses  with 
f^reat  learning  and  much  acuteness,  the  passages  where  the  names  of 
the  Deity  occm-,  satisfactorily  refuting  the  objections  to  the  genu- 
ineness of  the  Pentateuch,  on  the  ground  of  its  fragmentary  char- 
acter, at  the  same  time  demonstrating  its  unity  with  gi-eat  cogency 
of  reasoning.  The  result  of  his  investigation  is,  that  Elohim  is  used 
to  designate  the  Deity  in  a  general  sense  as  the  Creator  of  the  uni- 
verse, and  that  Jehovah  designates  him  as  God  in  a  special  sense, — 
as  the  Being  who  manifests  himself  in  providence  and  grace. 

In  examining  the  subject,  our  author  gives  us  an  elaborate  disserta- 
tion on  the  origin  of  the  name  Jehovah.  Some  have  held  it  to  be 
^^  l"-gyptian  origin.  This  he  shows  to  be  quite  untenable,  and  very 
aptly  quotes  the  language  of  Pharaoh :  "  Who  is  Jehovah,  that  I 
should  obey  his  voice  to  let  Israel  go  ?  I  hnoio  not  Jehovah ;" 
wliich  he  considers  a  proof  of  the  Egyptians'  igoiorance  of  the  name. 
Others  have  endeavoured  to  derive  the  name  from  the  Phoenicians, 
relying  chiefly  upon  the  fragments  of  Sanchoniathon.  "With  good 
reason,  Dr.  Hengstenherg  rejects  the  fragments  of  this  author  as  un- 
wortliy  of  confidence,  and  regards  his  so-called  translator,  Philo 
Byblius,  as  a  deceiver.  And  he  observes  :  "  Nowhere  can  a  Pha3- 
uician  etymology  of  the  word  Jehovah  be  found."  As  equally  un- 
Euccos.sfiil,  our  author  considers  the  attempts  of  some  to  show  the 
Fimilarity  of  tlie  names  Jehovah  and  Jove.  The  o  common  to  both 
inimodmtoly  vanishes  when  we  take  into  consideration  tliat  the  u  in 
Jehovah  docs  not  belong  to  that  word,  but  to  Adonai.  Eurther,  a 
communication  between  the  Hebrew  and  Latin  can  only  be  effected 


84  Hengstenherg  on  the  Pentateuch.  [January, 

througli  the  Greek.  Now  Atoj-  con-esponds  to  Jovis ;  and  in 
Latin,  the  form  Jovis  is  of*  later  date.  According  to  Yarro,  the 
ancient  form  -R-as  Diovis ;  so  that  nothing  remains  in  common  to  Je- 
hovah and  Diovis  but  the  A'^av  (d).  Thus  reasons  our  author;  and 
he  thinks  the  man  undeserving  of  a  confutation  who  would  argue  in 
favour  of  the  similarity  of  the  two  names  from  their  having  one  letter 
in  common,  and  who  would  thus  ascribe  a  different  origin  to  the 
word  from  that  given  in  Scripture.  He  supposes  Jehovah,  or  rather 
Jahveh,  (which  he  thinks  the  true  pronunciation,)  to  be  derived  from 
the  verb  n",n,  to  he,  the  futm-e  being  used  to  denote  continuance  of 
existence.  It  thus  means  the  absolute  and  immutable  Being — he 
whose  property  is  to  he.  With  these  views  Gesenius  himself  co- 
incides :  "  Those  only  vrastc  their  time  and  labour,  who  endeavour 
to  refer  this  name  to  a  foreign  origin,  or  assign  to  it  any  special  re- 
lation with  Jupiter,  Jovis,  or  the  like."* 

Some  of  the  Eationalists  are  of  opinion  that  the  import  of  the 
name  Jehovah  is  too  profound  for  the  earliest  age  of  the  world. 
They  would  regard  the  Jewish  religion  as  a  gradual  development 
from  Polytheism  into  ^Monotheism.  The  existence  of  the  name  Je- 
hovah, even  before  the  Mosaic  age,  refutes  this  hypothesis.  The 
plural  form  for  God,  Elohim,  denotes  his  plenitude  of  power.  There 
is  no  reason  whatever  for  supposing  that  it  was  once  used  by  the 
Hebrews  to  indicate  their  belief  in  a  plurality  of  gods.  To  the 
Hebrews,  names  were  of  the  highest  importance,  generally  express- 
ing some  peculiar  property  or  attribute  in  the  object  to  which  they 
were  given.  The  names  that  Adam  gave  the  various  animals  that 
came  before  him,  doubtless  indicated  their  leading  characteristics. 
Wiih  us  it  is  quite  different ;  and  we  should,  therefore,  guard  against 
the  error  of  considering  as  fanciful  the  distinction  made  in  the  di- 
vine names. 

The  only  argument  adduced  of  any  importance  by  the  opponents 
of  the  ancient  origin  of  the  name  Jehovah,  rests  upon  the  passage 
in  Exodus  vi,  2,  tfcc. :  '"'And  Elohim  (God)  spake  unto  Moses,  and 
said  unto  him,  I  AM  Jehovah  :  and  I  appeared  unto  Abraham,  and 
Isaac,  and  Jacob,  as  El  Shaddai,  (God  Almighty,)  but  by  my  name 
Jehovah  Avas  I  not  known  to  them." — "I  Avill  bring  you  out  from 
under  the  burdens  of  the  Egj'ptians ;  and  ye  shall  know  that  I  am 
Jehovah."  There  would  be  force  in  this  argument  if  we  looked  sim- 
ply at  the  name  and  not  at  its  import.  Olshausen,  on  Matt,  xviii,  19, 
says :  "  Onoma  (name)  is  the  personalit}',  the  essential  being,  and 
that  not  in  its  state  of  not  recognising  or  not  being  recognsied,  but 
in  its  manifestation."  The  meaning  of  the  passage  is  not  that  the 
'Hebrew  Lcxicou,  word /fAoraA. 


1853.]  Hengstenherg  on  the  Pentateuch.  85 

bare  name  ■was  unknown  to  them,  but  its  full  meaning, — that  he  was 
about  to  manifest  himself  to  them  in  delivering  them  from  Eg}^t 
in  s\ich  a  manner  as  he  never  before  manifested  himself. 

Dr.  llengslenberg  goes  tlirough  the  divine  names  (Elohim  and 
Jcliovah )  in  the  Pentateuch,  showing  their  appropriateness  to  the 
occasions  upon  which  thej  were  used.  In  Gen.  i,  ii,  1-3,  the 
title  Elohim  is  used  exclusively;  and  Dr.  Hengstcnberg  admits 
that  Jehovah  would  here  be  appropriate,  and  he  quotes  various  pas- 
sages of  Scripture  where  Jehovah  is  spoken  of  as  the  Creator  of  all 
things.  Yet  he  conceives  the  author's  object  was  to  show  "how 
God  gradually  made  himself  knovm  as  the  being  who  was  from  eter- 
nity, as  jEnovAH — how  by  degrees,  from  being  Elohim,  he  became, 
to  human  apprehension,  Jehovah."  The  sacred  historian  accord- 
ingly first  speaks  of  the  Deity  by  his  most  general  designation, 
God.  In  chap,  ii,  4,  begins  a  more  particular  description  of  the 
creation,  and  from  this  verse  to  the  close  of  cliap.  iii,  Jehovah  Elo- 
him, Lord  God,  is  used  in  almost  every  instance.  A  transition  is 
here  made  from  the  indefinite  Elohim  to  a  personal  manifesting 
God.  "He  feared  a  misunderstanding  —  feared  that  man  might 
regard  that  God  who  held  converse  so  humaiJy  with  man,  as  per- 
sonally different  from  the  Creator  of  heaven  and  earth,  as  a  mere 
subordinate  God  and  mediator.  In  this  section,  therefore,  he  uses 
Jehovah  Elohim  in  combination,  in  order  that  in  the  sequel,  where 
Jehovah  occurs,  tlie Elohim  manifested  in  him  maybe  acknowledged, 
and  where  Elohim  occurs,  the  Jehovah  concealed  in  him  might  also 
be  acknowledged."  The  contents  of  this  section  exhibit  a  manifes- 
tation of  God  in  his  loving-kindness,  as  Jehovah,  in  preparing  a 
paradise  for  man,  in  forming  woman  as  his  help-meet,  &c.  In  this 
section,  however,  when  the  serpent  addresses  Eve,  and  she  replies  to 
liim,  Elohim  is  used.  The  serpent  first  employs  Elohim  as  a  God 
afar  oif— one  who  was  not  to  be  feared.  Eve,  in  yielding  to  the 
tempter,  takes  up  the  same  word.  Jehovah  is  converted  into  Elohim, 
and  Eve's  clear  conception  of  Jehovah  becomes  obscure.  How  dif- 
ferent was  her  language  upon  this  occasion,  from  what  it  was  upon 
the  birth  of  Cain  :  "  I  have  gotten  a  man  from  Jehovah."  Here  the 
idea  of  a  present  and  assisting  God  was  prominent  in  her  mind. 
The  oftcrings*  made  by  Cain  and  Abel  arc  represented  as  made  to 
Jf.iiovaii.  This  is  very  proper ;  for  they  were  offered  to  a  manifest- 
ing and  personal  God,  the  God  of  Revelation  and  Grace.  "  And  Cain 
went  out  from  the  presence  of  Jehovah."  Hero  Elohim  would  bo 
jmpn.per;  for  God  is  referred  to  as  manifesting  himself.  "Then 
^lhr.)ti?lioul  tlip  whole  of  Genesis,  with  two  or  three  exceptions,  sacrifices  aro 
»«prc:H.'nU-.J  a«  offered  to  JehoTah. 


86  Ilengstenherg  on  the  Pentateuch.  [January, 

men  began  to  call  upon  the  name  of  Jehovah."  In  this  passage  di- 
vine vrorship  is  expressed,  and  the  appropriateness  of  the  name  Je- 
hovah is  obvious.  "  And  Enoch  ^valkcd  -with  ha-Elohim  (literally, 
the  God)  and  he  was  not,  for  Elohim  took  him."  On  this  passage, 
Dr.  ITengstenberg  observes :  "  The  use  of  the  first  Elohim  is  ac- 
counted for,  from  the  tacit  contrast  bet^-een  Enoch's  conduct  and  a 
corrupt  world  (compare  vi,  9) ;  and  the  second  Elohim  was  rendered 
necessary  by  the  fii'st — since  he  walked  not  with  the  world  but  with 
God,  so  he  was  taken  away  from  the  world  by  God  to  be  with  God." 
Li  the  description  of  the  deluge,  the  advocates  of  the  documejit 
hypothesis  think  their  theory  derives  remarkable  confirmation  from 
the  use  of  the  tlivine  names  (Jehovah  and  Elohim).  But  our  author 
contends  that  here,  loo,  the  sacred  writer  uses  them  with  discrimi- 
nation, to  express  peculiar  and  distinctive  acts  of  the  Deity,  and  to 
show  the  connexion  between  Jehovah  and  Elohim.  "Where  acts  of 
mercy  are  spoken  of,  Jehovah  is  generally  used:  e.  g.,  "Noah  foimd 
grace  in  the  eyes  of  Jehovah."  And  when  Noah  entered  the  ark, 
it  is  said,  "  Jehovah  shut  him  in."  And  after  the  deluge,  it  is  stated 
that  "he  builded  an  altar  to  Jehovah,"  where  the  propriety  of  the 
word  is  obvious  enough.  But  those  who  contend  that  the  account 
of  the  deluge  is  composed  from  different  documents,  find  great  diffi- 
culty in  separating  these  documents.  It  cannot,  indeed,  be  done  in 
some  cases  without  doing  violence  to  the  connexion.  In  chap,  vii,  16, 
in  reference  to  the  entry  of  Noah  and  the  animals  into  the  ark,  it  is 
said :  "  And  they  that  went  in,  went  in  male  and  female  of  all  flesh, 
as  God  had  commanded  him  :  and  Jehovah  shut  him  in."  It  is  not 
easy  to  conceive  that  this  passage  was  derived  from  two  documents, 
one  of  which  used  Elohim  and  the  other  Jehovah.  We  will  give  a 
few  more  examples  illustrating  the  distinction  in  the  divine  names. 
When  Abraham  in  Egypt  denied  his  wife,  he  assigned  as  the  reason, 
his  dread  of  being  slain  on  her  account ;  for  "  I  thought  surely," 
said  he,  "the  fear  of  God  is  not  in  this  place."  These  words  ad- 
dressed to  a  heathen  king  would  have  been  inappropriate  if  Jehovah 
had  been  used,  for  he,  it  is  to  be  presumed,  knew  nothing  of  Jeho- 
vah. But  the  sacred  historian,  in  speaking  of  the  barrenness  of  the 
Egyptians  on  account  of  Sarah,  appropriately  ascribes  it  to  Jehovah. 
When  the  Deity  appeared  to  xVbraham  to  call  him  from  his  native 
land,  with  propriety  he  is  called  Jehovah;  yet  when  he  commands 
him  to  offer  up  his  son  Isaac,  he  is  called  God,  where  we  would  ex- 
pect Jehovah.  Dr.  Ilcngstenberg  supposes  this  difficulty  can  be 
solved  by  the  consideration  that  as  the  result  of  Abraham's  trial 
would  bring  him  into  a  nearer  relation  with  the  Deity,  there  was  a 
suitableness  in  denoting  this  change  by  his  being  called  God  just 


1853.]  Hengstenberg  on  the  Pentateuch.  87 

.  before  the  trial,  and  Jehovah  i?umediatchj  after  it.  Our  author  also 
grants  that  there  are  several  instances,  in  the  latter  part  of  Genesis, 
Nvhere  wc  Avould  cxj)ect  Jehovah  but  find  Elohim.  He,  however, 
tliinks  that  the  sacred  writer  purposely  kept  Jehovah  in  the  back- 
ground,  since  the  beginning  of  the  very  next  book  opens  with  a  pe- 
culiar manifestation  of  Jehovah  in  bringing  the  Israelites  out  of 
Kgypt,  thus  making  a  distinctive  contrast  between  the  dificrent  man- 
irf;^.tatiou3  of  God.  And  further,  that  the  Israelites'  conception  of 
Jcliovah,  while  they  were  in  Egypt  and  looking  forward  to  a  brighter 
day,  was  more  properly  that  of  Elohim. 

Though  some  may  doubt  the  correctness  of  our  author's  views  on 
these  points,  it  cannot  be  denied  that  there  is  great  probability  in 
them.  But  even  if  Genesis  were  composed  from  different  documents, 
would  it  follow  that  Closes  did  not  write  it  ?  Is  there  anything  ab- 
surd in  the  hypothesis  that  there  were  documents  relating  to  tlie 
early  history  of  the  world  transmitted  to  the  Mosaic  age?  *  But  if 
the  last  four  books  of  the  Pentateuch  bore  marks  of  being  composed 
from  different  documents,  which  is  not  the  case,  the  improbability  of 
its  having  proceeded  from  Moses  would  be  very  great.  There  is, 
indeed,  a  unity  of  design  in  the  Pentateuch  which  shows  that  it  is 
the  work  of  one  author. 

Next  follows  a  lengthy  dissertation  on  the  art  of  writing  among 
the  Hcbreivs.  Until  very  recently,  no  objection  to  the  genuineness 
of  the  Pentateuch  was  more  common  than  that  of  the  non-existence 
of  writing  in  the  Mosaic  age.  This  objection,  once  brought  forward 
with  so  much  confidence,  is  now  abandoned  by  some  of  the  most 
discreet  adversaries  of  the  Pentateuch.  The  genuineness  of  the 
Homeric  poems,  denied  by  Wolf  and  some  of  his  ablest  contempo- 
raries, is  now  generally  acknowledged  by  scholars ;  and  Dr.  Heng- 
stenberg thinks  that  it  is  ascertained  '•'  that  the  use  of  the  art  of 
writing  among  the  Greeks  reaches  as  far  back  as  the  Mosaic  times." 
'"Ikifc  Avhile  it  is  now  admitted,"  says  he,  "that  the  art  of  writing 
vas  in  existence  in  the  Mosaic  age,  attempts  are  made  to  dispute,  on 
various  grounds,  its  use  among  the  Hebrews." 

The  most  common  objection  made  to  the  Hebrews'  being  in  pos- 
session of  the  art  of  writing  in  that  early  ago,  is,  that  "  they  contin- 
ued to  be  in  Egypt  what  they  were  in  Canaan,  a  rude,  uncultivated, 
pastoral  people,  separated  from  the  other  inhabitants  of  the  land," 
•^i<\  consequently  had  no  occasion  to  write,  and  of  course  never 

■^  I>r.  Hengstenberj^'.s  reasoning,  if  it  be  atlraitted  in  all  its  force,  docs  not  prove 
t.:at  Mo.-cs  in  the  composition  of  Genesis  diJ  not  make  use  of  a  written  docu- 
Tnoi:t  <-r  onil  tr.aditiou;  it  simply  sliows  that  there  is  no  proof  of  his  having  nse^l 
ttore  than  one  document. 


88  Jlerigstenherg  on  the  Pentateuch.  [January, 

learned  the  art.  Our  author  sho^\;s  that  this  misrepresentation  is 
untrue ;  that,  on  the  contrary,  they  availed  themselves  of  tlie  arts 
and  conveniences  of  civilized  life; — that  "Judah  had  a  signet; 
Joseph  -R'ore  a  richly  adorned  garment ;  Abraham  paid  for  the  land 
he  purchased,  and  Jacob's  sons  for  corn,  -with  money;  Abraham's 
servants'  presented  Rebecca  with  a  gold  ring  and  bracelets,  &c. ;'' 
that  during  their  residence  in  Egypt  they  had  permanent  possessions, 
and  dwelt  in  houses  with  door-posts  and  lintels,  (Exodus  xii,  4,  7, 
22,  23,)  and  mixed  with  the  Egyptians,  so  that  the  destroying  angel 
would  pass  by  one  door  and  stop  at  another."  It  is  thus  easy  to  see 
how  the  Hebrews  could  become  acquainted  with  the  arts  and  scien- 
ces of  learned  Egypt.  But  it  has  been  objected  that  the  priests 
alone  in  that  country  were  in  possession  of  the  art  of  writing.  To 
this  our  author  replies,  that  there  is  not  a  single  reason  for  it,  and 
many  against  it ;  and  in  support  of  his  position  ho  quotes  Diodorus, 
Plato,  Herodotus,  &c.  And  he  further  observes,  that  even  if  writing 
did  not  exist  in  Egypt*  at  tb.at  time,  the  Hebrews  might  have  ob- 
tained it  from  a  Semitic  people;  and  he  contends  that  writing  was 
in  use  before  the  time  of  Moses,  alleging  as  a  proof,  that  the  Israel- 
itish  officers  were  called  Siiotcrim,  (from  n^w,  to  torite,)  Scribes.  To 
us  it  seems  very  improbable  that  the  Hebrews  derived  their  knowl- 
edge of  writing  from  the  Egyptians,  for  the  simple  reason  that  they 
possessed  it  before  they  went  among  that  people.  Cadmus,  accord- 
ing to  an  ancient  tradition,  carried  the  alphabet  from  Phcenicia  into 
Greece  before  the  time  of  ]\Ioses.  The  Hebrews  in  the  patriarchal 
age  lived  contiguous  to  the  Phccnicians,  (and  the  Hebrew  and  Punic 
languages  are  very  similar,)  from  whom  they  could  readily  have 
learned  the  art  of  ^^Titing,  though  there  is  nothing  improbable  in  the 
hypothesis  that  they  derived  it  from  their  ancestors,  and  that  it  ex- 
isted before  the  Dohige.  Beside  these  considerations,  the  last  four 
books  of  the  Pentateuch  everywhere  speak  of  writing  as  existing  in 
the  jSIosaic  age.  Even  if  this  testimony  were  nothing  more  than 
tradition,  it  would  certainly  be  of  great  weight,  and  ought  not  to  be 
set  aside  Avithout  the  most  cogent  reasons. 

Next  follows  a  dissertation  on  the  Pentateuch  and  the  time  of  the 
Judges.     It  has  been  objected  by  Be  Wette  and  other  nationalists, 

=  A  m.iimscript  has  been  discovered  in  l^gypt  containing  an  act  of  the  fiftli 
year  of  tlio  ruign  of  Thouthmosis  III.,  \vho  reigned  in  Egypt  at  least  t\YO  hundred 
years  before  .Moses.  (Eschonburg's  Man.  Chis.  Lit.,  p.  350.)  "  FrDiu  the  re- 
searches of  travellers  ami  hicroglyphists  in  late  years,  it  is  provcJ  beyoinl  doubt 
that  nia.ny  of  the  hierogl  vi'liieal  inscriptions  -were  written  before  the  e.xodus  of 
the  Hcbrcvrs,  and  that  Avriting  must  tlierofore  have  been  in  use  at  or  before  that 
period."     (Kitto's  Cydo.  T.ib.  Lit.,  art.  Writing.) 


J 853.]  Hevgstcnhcrg  on  the  Pentateuch.  89 

that  the  religious  condition  of  the  Israelites,  from  the  time  of  Moses 
to  that  of  David,  is  irreconcilable  with  the  existence  of  the  Penta- 
tcucli :— "  Tiiat  mitil  the  time  of  David  and  Solomon  no  national 
snnctiiary  was  thought  of,   Avherc  alone  Jehovah  might   be   wor- 
shipj/fd;"  and  that  under  David  his  worsliip  first  obtained  a  fixed 
prii-stiy  institution.    Eertholdt,  De  \Yette's  follower  in  the  criticism 
of  llie  I'entateuch,  rejects  this  argument,  and  remarks  that  the  non- 
oUservance  of  the  Mosaic  laws  during  these  times  no  more  proves 
(!iat  the  Pentateuch  did  not  exist,  than  the  imperfections  in  the  ad- 
ministration of  justice  in  the  middle  ages  prove  the  non-existence  of 
the  Theodosian  and  Justinian  codes  of  law.      Dr.  Hengstenbcrir, 
however,  denies  that  there  was  any  such  neglect  of  divine  worship 
as^is  asserted  by  De  Wetto;— that,  on  the  contrary,  the  post-^^Io- 
Ettic  liistory  furnishes  us  with  positive  arguments  for  the  genuine- 
i»os3  of  the  Pentateuch.     To  the  objection  made  by  some  that  the 
account  of  the  last  assembling  of  the  people  under  Joshua  at  the 
"siinctuary  of  the  Lord"  at  Shechem,  instead  of  Shiloh.  but  ill  ac- 
cord.s  with  the  authority  of  the  Pentateuch,  he  replies  that  the  first 
us:iembly  gathered  by  Joshua  in  prospect  of  his  death  was  very 
probably  made  at  Shiloh,  the  usual  place  of  meeting  for  the  Israel- 
ites, and  that  the  second  and  last  one  was  made  at  Shechem  on  ac- 
count of  the  sacred  associations  connected  with  the  place,  for  it  was 
there  that  God  first  appeared  to  Abraham  after  his  arrival  in  Canaan; 
that  by  the  term  •::-^^  (rendered  srmctuary,)  there  is  no  necessity 
of  understanding  a  building,  but  simply  a  holy  place,  and  the  men- 
tion made  (Joshua  xxiv,  26)  of  an  oak  in  the  sanctuary  of  Jehovah 
shows  that  It  was  not  a  building.     It  has  also  been  objected  that  the 
non-observance  of  the  rite  of  circumcision  by  the  Israelites  in  the 
wilderness,  is  not  consistent  with  the  authority  of  the  Pentateuch : 
"-■1//  the  people  that  were  born  in  the  wilderness  by  the  wav,  as 
they  came  forth  out  of  Egypt,  them  they  had  not  circumcised.^' 
J*>*a.  V,  0.     Dr.  Hengstenberg  ascribes  the  omission  of  the  rite  to 
the  ^vlckedness  of  the  Jews  during  their  journeying  through  the 
^^iMerness,  which  caused  God  to  swear  that  they  should  not  enter 
nuo  his  rest;  and  since  circumcision  was  a  sign  of  God's  covenant 
),    ''  *''-  V^^V^^.  it  was  proper  that  when  they  revolted  from  him. 
ity  should  be  deprived  of  that  which  was  the  sign  of  divine  favour; 
^  mt  the  command  "circumcise  again  the  children  of  Israel  the  scc- 
fiu'i!''-"'f[''"  ""I'^'^^'^  ^^^^  ^^^^y  1^^'^  More  been  circumcised:  and, 
•'hi  >''  If  '^  ^^''^^  "^^  omitted  during  the  whole  of  their  journev. 
i\c!'r^'  !*''"'  *''*'  ^''"^  ^''^'"^  ^^"^  exclusion  of  the  existing -enera- 
•  r»l    I'r       ',  r'°''^<^^^  land  was  declared."     But  while  iVc'  Wette, 
'VriKTr/s       ^"  ^'"''^*'''  '^'^"^^'''"  reference  in  the  Book  of  .Judges 


90  Ilengstcnberg  on  the  Pentateuch.  [January, 

to  the  Peutateuch,  other  opponents  of  the  gcnumeness  are  of  a  quite 
diftbrent  opinion.  Yatcr,  for  example,  acknoAvledges  some  refer- 
ences in  several  passages  to  the  Pentateuch,  and  Hai'tmann  expresses 
himself  in  the  following  strong  language  :  ''In  the  Book  of  Judges 
we  find,  indeed,  Moses'  book  of  the  law  and  a  Avritten  Torah  not 
expressly  mentioned,  but  we  cannot  deny  allusions  to  the  nan-ation 
anil  commands  of  Closes ;  we  must  candidly  allow  that  the  compiler 
of  the  Book  of  Judges  imist  have  been  acquainted  icith  the  Pen- 
tateuch in  all  its  extent,  of  which  any  one  may  satisfy  himself 
who  will  compare  chap,  i,  20  with  !Num.  xiv,  30;  v,  4,  with  Deut. 
xxxiii,  2,"  ifcc. 

Passing  by  numerous  references  in  the  Book  of  Judges  to  the 
Pentateuch,  we  single  out  the  narrative  of  Jephthah,  (chap,  xi,  15-2G,) 
which  is  taken  almost  verbatim  from  the  Book  of  IS  umbers.  We 
iavo  not  space  for  the  parallel  passages  and  references,  but  simply 
remark  that  every  one  not  obstinately  prejudiced  against  the  truth, 
iior  amazingly  stupid,  must  clearly  perceive  the  reference  to  the  Pen- 
iateuclL  The  opponents  of  the  genuineness,  however,  contend  that 
in  the  time  of  the  Judges  the  law  of  Moses  respecting  sacrifice  was 
not  observed, — the  command  to  sacrifice  only  in  that  place  which 
Jehovah  had  chosen  from  all  the  tribes  to  place  his  name  there.  In 
opposition  to  this,  Br.  Ilengstenberg  shows  that  during  the  whole 
period  of  the  judges,  the  people  had  but  one  sanctuary ;  that  when- 
ever they  sacrificed  at  any  other  place  than  the  tabernacle,  it  was 
because  God  had  thei-e  manifested  himself  to  them,  which  was  a 
sufficient  warrant  for  the  acceptablencss  of  their  sacrifice.  That 
one  of  the  gi-eat  feasts,  at  least,  was  celebrated  in  Shiloh,  and  that 
the  whole  nation  assembled  there  to  attend  it,  appears  from  Judges 
xxi,  19.  In  various  places  in  this  book  we  find  other  allusions  to 
the  institutions  of  the  Pentateuch.  Also,  in  the  Book  of  lluth  we 
have  references  to  the  Mosaic  law  in  the  marriage  of  the  wife  of  a 
deceased  brother,  and  in  the  redemption  of  property.  Jephthah's 
sacrificing  his  daughter  is  thought  by  some  to  indicate  that  the  age 
of  the  judges  was  extremely  barbarous.  This  subject  Dr.  Ileng- 
stcnberg discusses  at  considerable  length,  and  takes  the  ground  that 
Jephthah  did  not  slay  her  as  is  generally  believed,  but  that  he 
consecrated  her  in  perpetual  virginity  to  God  in  the  service  of 
the  Tabernacle.  We  have  not  room  for  his  arguments,  nor  for  the 
answer  that  may  be  given  them.  AV e  woi;ld  simply  say,  that,  in  our 
opinion,  the  language  used  by  Jephthah  when  he  made  his  vow,  can- 
not be  explained  figuratively.  He  vowed  tliat  whatever  came  forth 
from  the  door  of  his  house  to  meet  him,  he  would  offer  as  a  Intrnt- 
of}'cring  to  the  Lord.     The  Hebrew  n'r"?  -*;r~  can  only  mean,  to 


1S53.]  Hcngstenhcrg  on  the  Pentateuch.  91 

offer  a  burnt -offermg."^  And  as  he  fulfilled  his  vow,  he  must  have 
sacrificed  iicr.  The  Scriptures,  it  is  true,  sometimes  speak  of  a 
spii'itual  sacrifice,  but  in  such  a  v,-av  as  not  to  be  misapprehended : 
"Present  your  bodies,"  says  St.  Paul,  "a  living  sacrifice  to  God." 
Rom.  xii,  1.  But  if  Jephthah  really  sacrificed  his  dauglitcr,  that  act 
(lues  not  show  that  the  Pentateuch  was  not  then  in  existence.  To 
oflcr  human  sacrifices  was  a  custom  among  surrounding  nations,  and 
it  was  difficult  for  the  Israelites  to  rid  themselves  of  heathen  influ- 
cijce,  notwithstanding  the  positive  injunctions  of  the  Mosaic  Law. 
Tliis  their  whole  history  testifies.  Dr.  Hengstenberg  thus  concludes 
bis  investigations  on  the  Judges,  in  reference  to  the  Pentateuch: 
"  We  do  not  believe  that  any  one  can  now,  with  a  good  conscience, 
say  that  De  "Wette's  Essay  still  remains  unanswered." 

Tiic  statanents  of  the  Pentateuch  respecting  its  author  are  next 
discussed  by  Dr.  Hengstenberg  with  his  usual  ability,  and  the  vari- 
ous passages  which  ascribe  its  authorship  to  Moses,  are  brought  for- 
ward and  presented  in  all  their  force,  and  the  objections  that  have 
been  made  to  them  are  refuted.  These  passages  are  numerous,  and 
the  only  conclusion  that  can  be  drawn  from  them  is,  that  either 
Moses  was  its  author,  or  it  is  a  palpable  forgery — a  forgery  such  as 
is  not  met  Avith  in  the  Avhole  annals  of  literature.  We  shall  give 
some  of  the  most  important  passages :  "  And  the  Lord  said  unto 
Moses,  Write  this  for  a  memorial  in  the  book,"  6zc.  Exodus  xvii,  14. 
"All  the  curses  which  are  written  in  this  book."  Deut.  xxix,  21. 
"  And  it  shall  be  when  he  (the  king)  sitteth  upon  the  throne  of  his 
kingdom,  that  he  shall  Avrite  him  a  copy  of  this  law  in  a  book  out  of 
that  which  is  before  the  priests  the  Levites."  Deut.  xvii,  18.  "And 
it  c.ime  to  pass,  when  Moses  had  made  an  end  of  writing  the  words 
cf  this  law  in  a  book,  until  they  were  finished,  that  Moses  com- 
manded the  Levites— take  this  book,"  &c.  Deut.  xxxi,  24,  25,  '26. 
The  objection  nrade  to  the  genuineness  of  the  Pentateuch  on  ac- 
count of  Closes'  speaking  of  himself  in  the  third  person,  "  The  Lord 
said  unto  Moses,"  &c.,  which  we  might  suppose  none  but  an  i:ino- 
i-ant  or  dishonest  man  would  bring  forward,  has  been  reproduced 
by  some  of  the  adversaries  of  the  Pcntateucli.  That  Paine  should 
have  made  this  objection,  was  not  at  all  surprising;  but  that  a  clas- 
i^ical  scholar  should  do  it,  is  almost  incredible.  For  it  is  well  known 
that  C:osar,  in  his  Commentaries,  speaks  of  himself  in  the  third  per- 
son ;  so  docs  Xenophon  in  his  Anabasis  t  and  Memorabilia.  J     Put 

An<l  s  J  it  is  renclered  by  different  versions  :— Septuagint,  67.0Kavroua  ;  Vul- 
gate, holocaunum  ;  German,  Urandoyfer;  French,  holocauste. 

t  •■  Till  re  \\-:\-  ill  til,;  army  a  certain  Atlienian,  Xenophon,"  &c.     Book  iii,  eh.  L 
;  ••  Tell  mo,  Xeu.jphon,  he  said,  &c.     And  Xenophon  replied,''  &c.    Look  i,  ch.  .1 


92  .  Hcngstenherg  on  the  Pentateuch.  [January, 

this  objection  is  scarcely  Vi-ortli  a  refutation.  "  !No"sv  the  man  Moses 
was  very  meeky  This  declaration,  it  has  been  thought  by  some, 
could  not  have  proceeded  from  Moses,  as  being  inconsistent  with 
true  humility.  The  Hebrew  word  i;r;^  primarily,  means  oppressed, 
afflicted.  It,  however,  "  has  the  accessory  idea  of  humility,  meek- 
ness; i.  e.,  the  humble,  the  meek,  who  prefer  to  suffer  wrong  rather 
than  do  wrong." — Gesenius.  ]Moses  had  been  charged  with  being 
tyrannical,  and  he  adds,  to  clear  himself  from  this  accusation,  that 
no  one  was  more  willing  to  suffer  Avrong  than  himself. 

The  adversaries  of  the  Pentateuch  contend  that  it  contains  traces 
of  an  age  postciior  to  that  of  Moses,  and  this  may  be  regarded  as 
the  strongest  objection  that  has  ever  been  brought  against  its  genu- 
ineness. The  passages  which  have  been  thought  to  indicate  a  later 
age  are  thoroughly  discussed  by  our  author,  and  all,  at  least  nearly 
all,  its  anachronisms  entirely  disappear.  Most  of  the  defenders  of 
the  Pentateuch  grant  that  it  contains  a  few  interpolations;  Dr. 
Hengstenberg.  however,  denies  that  it  contains  any,  and  he  is  of 
opinion  that  there  is  in  it  nothing  unsuitable  to  the  Mosaic  age. 
We  shall  glance  at  some  of  the  most  important  of  these  passages  : 
"And  the  Canaanite  was  then  in  the  land."  Gen.  xii,  G.  In  imme- 
diate connexion  with  this  passage  it  is  stated  that  Abraham  passed 
through  Canaan,  and  that  the  Lord  appeared  to  him  and  promised 
to  give  him  the  land,  and  the  sacred  historian  added  the  remark 
"  the  Canaanite  was  then  in  the  land,"  to  show  "  the  contrast  be- 
tween the  present  aiid  the  future,  th.c  reality  and  the  idea" — to  show 
that  the  land,  though  promised  to  Abraham,  was  actually  in  the  pos- 
session of  others.  That  this  could  have  been  written  by  Moses  is 
obvious  enough.  Again,  in  xiii,  G,  T,  in  reference  to  Abraham  and 
Lot,  it  is  said,  "  the  land  was  not  able  to  bear  them. — And  there 
was  a  strife  between  the  hcrdmcn  of  Abram's  cattle  and  the  herdmen 
of  Lot's  cattle,  and  the  Canaanite  and  the  Pcrizzitc  dicellcd  then 
in  the  land."  This  remark  seems  to  have  been  made  to  show  ivhy 
the  land  could  not  bear  Abram  and  Lot.  There  was  not  room 
enough  for  them  and  these  heathen.  The  name  of  a  certain  city, 
Hebron,  it  has  been  contended,  is  post-Mosaic,  ami  that  it  was 
called  Kirjath-Arba  before  the  conciucst  of  Canaan.  ])r.  Ilcngsten- 
bei-g  argues  that  the  original  name  of  the  city  was  Acbron,  and  that 
when  the  Israelites  captured  it  they  restored  its  original  name,  which 
was  associated  with  sacred  recollections  in  the  patriarchal  age.  In 
Gen.  xiv.  14,  it  is  stated  that  Abraham  pursued  the  kings  unto  Dan. 
And  as  there  was  a  city  in  the  land  of  Canaan  to  which  the  Israel- 
ites upon  their  conquest  of  the  country  gave  the  name  Dan,  it  has 
been  thought  by  some  that  the  passage  nmst  have  been  written  after 


1653.3  Jlengstenherg  on  the  Pentateuch.  93 

the  time  of  Moses.  Our  author  shows  that  there  were  two  Dans, 
hi  '1  Samuel  xxiv,  G,  mention  is  made  of  Dan-Jaan;  the  addition, 
Juan,  seems  to  have  been  made  "to  distinguish  it  from  Dan-Laish, 
which  was  taken  by  the  Danites.  The  district  or  town  to  Avhich 
Abraham  pursued  the  kings  may  have  been  called  Dan"-^  previous 
to  tlie  invasion  of  the  land  of  Canaan  by  the  Israelites.  The  name 
"  JA'thcl"  has  also  been  thought  to  bo  post-Mosaic.  In  Judges 
i,  "I'l-lb,  it  is  stated  that  the  house  of  Joseph  captured  Bethel,  and 
tluit  the  name  of  the  city  before  Avas  Luz.  But  this  statement  cer- 
tainly does  not  prove  that  the  passages  in  the  Pentateuch,  where 
Botiicl  occurs,  were  written  after  the  conquest  of  the  city.  Por,  as 
Dr.  Ilcngstenberg  remarks,  the  name  Bethel  was  given  by  Jacob  to 
the  place,  or  region,  where  God  appeared  to  him,  there  being  no 
city  there  at  that  time,  and  the  Luz  by  whicli  it  was  knoAvn  among 
the  Canaanitcs,  was  not  superseded  by  the  name  Bethel  until  the 
Israelites  conquered  it.  For  our  part,  we  see  no  difficulty  here 
at  all. 

The  following  passage  in  Genesis  has  been  regarded  by  many 
critics  as  belonging  to  a  post-Mosaic  age :  "  And  these  are  the 
kings  that  reigned  in  the  land  of  Edora  before  there  reigned  any 
king  over  the  children  of  Israel."  Gen.  xxxvi,  31.  At  the  first 
glance  it  would  seem  to  -have  been  written  after  Israel  had  a  king. 
Our  author,  however,  thinks  it  could  with  propriety  have  been  writ- 
tea  by  Moses,  since  God  promised  Jacob  that  kings  should  come  out 
(J  iiis  loins.  The  nation  of  the  Israelites  expected  kings,  and  an 
enumeration  of  the  dukes  of  Edom,  Jacob's  brother,  called  forth 
the  remark  that  these  dukes  reigned  before  Israel  had  a  king. 
Though  we  think  our  author  s  view  is  admissible,  we  are  neverthe- 
less of  o])inion  that  the  concession  that  it  was  not  written  b}'"  Moses 
will  be  of  no  great  service  to  our  adversaries.  That  the  Pentateuch 
in  the  course  of  more  than  three  thousand  years  should  have  suffer- 
ed no  interpolation  Avhatever,  is  not  in  the  highest  degree  probable. 
Some  passages  may  have  been  Avritten  in  the  margin,  by  way  of  ex- 
planation or  remark,  which  were  afterwards  incorporated  into  the 
text ;  the  names  of  some  places  that  had  become  obsolete,  may  have 
been  exchanged  for  more  modern  ones.  That  this  could  have  taken 
place  witliout  destroying  the  authenticity  of  the  text,  needs  no  proof. 
1  he  passage  which  we  have  first  considered,  may  have  been  introduced 
fn-m  1  Chron.  i,  43.  Several  interpolations  of  a  similar  nature  have 
oeeurrc-d  in  the  ]Xew  Testament,  though,  from  the  gi-eat  number  of 

^  -  If  tills  V  thou?:ht  inadmissible,  tlicre  will  be  little  aifiioulty  iu  allowing  that 
«V  n.Duo  of  the  )>lace  in  tlie  time  of  Moses,  (Vh.atever  it  was.)  aTul  -ivluc]!  he 
wn^to,  -Ka.s  afterwards  exchanged  for  a  name  better  known. 


94  Hengstcnhcrg-  on  the  Pentateuch.  [January, 

MSS.  and  versions,  we  are  able  to  detect  them.  In  the  Septuagint 
Old  Testament,  in  Joshua,  we  have  two  remarkable  instances  of  in- 
terpolations, as  remarks  or  additions.  When  Joshua  razed  Jericho  to 
the  ground,  he  pronounced  a  curse  upon  its  rebuilder.  AVe  find,  in 
1  Kings  xvi,  34,  that  Hiel  the  Betlielite  laid  its  foundation  in  Abi- 
ram  his  first-born,  and  in  his  youngest  son  he  set  up  the  gates 
thereof.  The  substance  of  this  is  added  in  the  Greek  version  to  the 
Hebrew  text.  Again,  in  Joshua  xvi,  10,  it  is  stated  that  the 
Ephraimites  drove  not  out  the  Canaanitcs  who  dwelt  in  Gczer,  but 
the  Canaanites  dwell  among  the  Ephraimites  until  this  day,  and  serve 
under  tribute.  But  tlie  Greek  version  adds,  "until  Pharaoh  king 
of  Egypt  came  up  and  took  it  and  burnt  it  with  fire,  and  killed  the 
Canaarute  and  Perizzite  who  dwelt  in  it,  and  gave  it  as  a  dowry  to 
his  daughter;"  which  is  manifestly  taken  from  1  Kings  ix,  IG. 

In  Exodus  vi,  26,  27,  it  is  said  at  the  close  of  the  genealogy  of 
Moses  and  Aaron,  "  These  are  that  Moses  and  Aaron  to  whom  the 
Lord  said,"  &c.  This  passage  some  think  is  post-Mosaic ;  but  Dr. 
Hengstenberg  regards  it  as  quite  reconcilable  with  its  Mosaic  au- 
thorship, and  understands  "  these  are  that  Moses  and  Aaron"  as 
equivalent  to  saying,  this  is  the  genealogy  of  Moses  and  Aaron;  or, 
these  are  ISIoses  and  Aaron  according  to  their  genealogical  relations. 
The  law  of  the  king  in  Deut.  xvii,  has  been *i'egarded  as  inconsistent 
with  Samuel's  opposition  to  the  appointment  of  such  a  ruler  and 
Solomon's  unholy  conduct,  and  it  is  inferred  that  it  must  have  been 
framed  after  the  age  of  Samuel  and  Solomon.  But  here  it  is  shown  by 
our  author  that  when  a  king  (Saul)  was  appointed  for  the  Israelites, 
obvious  references  were  made  to  the  law  in  Deuteronomy,  and  fm'ther, 
that  the  sin  of  the  Israelites  did  not  consist  so  much  in  asking  a  king  as 
in  the  spirit  with  which  it  was  done :  and  that  asking  a  king  while  Sam- 
uel the  Prophet  survived,  was  rejecting  him,  and  was  equally  as  sin- 
ful as  if  they  had  asked  a  king  in  the  days  of  Moses  and  Joshua. 
Beside  these  considerations,  some  of  the  laws  in  the  Pentateuch  re- 
lating to  the  king  woidd  not  have  been  so  appropriate  had  they  been 
written  in  the  time  of  Samuel  and  Solomon,  or  in  a  subsequent 
period. 

In  Deut.  xi,  22-24,  a  promise  is  made  to  the  Israelites  that  if 
they  were  obedient  to  God  their  possessions  should  extend  from 
"the  river  Euphrates  unto  the  uttermost  sea ;"  Avhich  promise,  some 
have  alleged,  has  never  been  fulfilled.  Dr.  Hengstenberg  answers  this 
objection  by  observing  that  there  was  no  prominent  natural  bound- 
ary short  of  the  Euphrates  which  could  be  designated, — that  the 
boundaries  could  not  be  geographically  exact.  "  llow,  for  example, 
would  it  strike  us,  if,  instead  of  the  Euphrates,  Salchah  had  been 


1653.]  Hengstenherg  on  the  Pentateuch.  95 

named,  or  the  point  wliere  the  Nahar  Amman  falls  into  the  Zerkah? 
The  promise  can  only  bear  the  same  relation  to  a  strict  geogr-aphical 
statement  as  a  marble  block  to  a  statue."  And  when  a  description 
is  ^ivoii  of  the  boundaries  of  Palestine,  not  a  word  is  said  of  the 
Kile,  the  Euphrates,  or  the  Red  Sea. 

Our  author  next  answers  the  alleged  contradictions  in  the  Penta- 
teuch in  regard  to  Edom,  and  then  proceeds  to  notice  the  positive  ar- 
f^mcnts  which  the  account  of  Edom  gives  for  the  genuineness  of  the 
Pentateuch.    "  First :  the  position  which  the  Pentateuch  assigns  to  the 
Israelites  in  relation  to  the  Edomites,  forms  a  striking  contrast  to 
the  relation  actually  existing  and  allowed  by  all  the  prophets  of 
Israel  to  Edom  in  later  times."    Secondly :  the  regal  government  of 
Edom,  as  described  in  the  Pentateuch,  was  elective, — e"\-en  forei-mers 
were  called  to  the  throne.     But  in  later  times  the  kingdom  of  Edom 
\vas  hereditary.     Thirdly :  "  according  to  an  express"  statement  in 
Ocn.  xxx-vi,  31,  all  the  eight  kings  reigned  at  a  time  when  Israel  had 
as  yet  no  king.     AVe  do  not  see  what  could  induce  a  later  writer  not 
to  continue  any  further  the  line  of  Edomitish  kings."     Eom-thly :  it 
is  very  evident  that  the  eighth  Edomitish  king  was  a  contemporary 
of  the  author  of  the  Pentateuch.     Fifthly ;  the  most  considerable 
city  in  later  Idumea,  Selah,  or  Petra,  is  not  mentioned  at  all  in  the 
Pentateuch ;  and  as  there  were  many  occasions  for  mentioning  ifc, 
the  silence  regarding  it  is  a  proof  that  it  did  not  then  exist.     Sixthly  \ 
the  exact  notices  respecting  a  tribe  of  whom,  subsequent  to  the 
Mosaic  age,  no  traces  can  be  found,  ^c.     "These  be  the  words 
V-hich  lyioses  spake  unto  all  Israel  on  the  other  side  Jordan,  (Eng- 
lish version,  on  this  side.)  Deut.  i,  1.     This  passage  the  adversaries 
of  the  Pentateuch  regard  as  a  proof  that  its  author  must  have  lived  in 
Canaan,  and  that  Moses  could  not  have  Avritten  it,  since  he  did  not 
bring  the  Israelites  into  that  land.     Some  of  the  defenders  of  the 
genuineness  are  of  opinion  that  the  Hebrew  prepositions  ^,-yz  and 
"^>^"  mean  on  this  side  as  well  as  on  the  other  side.     Our  author, 
^vhde  acknowledging  that  there  may  bo  some  weight  in  this  opinion, 
nevertheless  thinks  that  it  labours  imder  great  difficulties.     His 
View  is,  that  the  tract  of  country  east  of  ^the  Jordan  was  called 
f'ei/ojid  Jordan,  in  contradistinction  to  the  great  body  of  Canaan 
betwc(.'n  Judea  and  the  Mediten-anean  Sea,  and  in  confirmation  of 
this  he  adduces  several  analogies.     That  the  phrase  this  side  or  the 

"  A\c'  do  not  think  that  the  meaning  "this  siile,"  can  be  easily  dcduco-l  from 
thC5o  ITcpn.itions.  They  are  doriyed  from  the  verb  n?^,  to  pass  over.  The  .'^op- 
tua-.-mt.  Vulgute.  and  German  versions  render  them  bajond.  The  French  version 
•ouietjmcs.  tim  side ;  at  others,  the  other  side,  or  beyond. 


96  Hengstenherg  on  the  Pentateuch.  [January, 

other  side  has  not  always  reference  to  the  position  of  the  speaker  or 
writer,  is  clear  from  Cresar's  Commentaries,  -waving  other  authori- 
ties. That  part  of  Gaul  bet^yeen  Rome  and  the  Alps  was  called 
Hither  Gaul;  that  part  between  the  Alps  and  the  Atlantic,  Farther 
Gaul ;  yet  Cffisar,  when  carr^'ing  on  war  beyond  the  Alps  from  Rome, 
calls  these  two  great  divisions  of  Gaul  by  the  names  by  which  they 
were  known  at  Rome,  though  to  him  Farther  Gaul  was  Hither  Gaul. 
Besides,  to  appeal  to  the  ^Scriptures  themselves,  we  find  in  1  Kings 
ir,  21,  that  the  part  of  the  Persian  empire  west  of  the  Euphrates  is 
called  beyond  the  river,  (English  version,  this  side,)  though  in  fact, 
to  the  writer,  it  was  on  this  side.  Several  other  instances  might  be 
referred  to.  Dr.  Hengstenherg,  however,  does  not  clearly  show  how 
it  was  probable  that  the  land  east  of  the  Jordan  was  called  beyond 
Jordan,  which  we  think  can  be  easily  done.  Abraham  and  his  pos- 
terity sojourned  for  a  long  Avhile  between  the  Mediterranean  Sea 
and  the  Jordan : — -to  them  the  land  east  of  the  Jordan  was  be- 
Tjond  Jordan.  When  the  Eg3^ptians  visited  the  country  east  of 
the  Jordan,  they  doubtless  passed  through  the  Isthmus  of  Suez, 
and  perhaps  crossed  the  Jordan : — to  them,  also,  this  country  was 
beyond  Jordan.  It  was  extremely  natural,  then,  for  JMoses  to  use 
this  expression. 

The  phrase  in  the  Pentateuch  "  unto  this  day,"  does  not  indi- 
cate that  the  events  referred  to  occurred  long  before  they  were 
recorded.  We  would  simply  refer  to  the  New  Testament  in  proof 
of  this.  Matthew  observes,  (.xxviii,  15,)  in  regard  to  the  story  the 
Jews  propagated  concerning  the  resun-ection  of  Clirist,  "  and  tliis 
saying  is  commonly  reported  among  the  Jews  until  this  day." 
This  Evangelist  certainly  did  not  write  much  over  thirty,  perhaps 
not  more  than  ten  years  after  the  event.  Dr.  Hengstenherg  shows 
that  the  phrase  is  evidently  used  in  the  Pentateuch  in  some  in- 
stances where  a  very  short  pei'iod  of  time  intervened. 

Passing  by  several  points  of  difficulty  discussed  by  our  author, 
we  come  to  the  Theology  of  the  Pentateuch  in  relation  to  its 
genuineness.  Under  this  head  our  author  first  takes  up  the  an- 
thropomorphisms (the  ascribing  human  affections  to  God)  of  the 
Pentateuch.  The  Deists  contend  that  to  represent  God  as  judg- 
ing, thinking,  repenting,  iSzc,  which  the  Pentateuch  ascribes  to 
God,  is  impious.  But  their  view  of  the  divine  character  must  be 
very  erroneous.  Their  God  is  a  mere  intelligent  power  perva- 
ding the  universe.  As  reason  and  revelation  both  demonstrate 
that  God  is  a  spirit,  a  supreme  intelligence,  and  as  we  know  of 
no  instances  of  intelligence  without  the  existence  of  affections,  it 
is  but   reasonable  to  su})pose  that  those  which  are  holy  exist  in 


1853.]  Hengstenherg  onthe  Pentateucli.  97 

the  divine  mind;  and  our  ^hole  moral  nature  leads  us  to  ascribe 
ever}'  moral  perfection  to  God.  Kor  can  tlie  anthropomorpliisms 
of  the  Pentateuch  be  sliOAni  to  be  immoral.  Dr.  Hengstenherg 
justlv  remarks  in  regard  to  anthropomorphisms:  "They  are  ab- 
solutely necessary.  Without  them  nothing  positive  can  be  assert- 
ed of  God.  God  himself  has  referred  us  to  them.  He  who  -would  get 
rid  of  them,  loses  God  entirely  -while  he  tries,  as  much  as  possible, 
to  purify  and  refine  his  conceptions  of  him."  But  while  the  Pen- 
tateuch ascribes  certain  human  affections  to  God,  and  to  some  extent 
represents  him  under  human  forms  and  similitudes,  it  clearly  teaches 
his  incorporeality  and  pm-e  spiritual  nature,  forbidding  the  making 
any  image  or  likeness  of  him  ;  and  though  he  is  represented  as  re- 
penting that  he  had  made  man,  yet  it  is  said  of  him  that  he  is  not 
"the  son  of  man  that  he  should  repent."  !Num.  xxiii,  19.  As  far  as 
concerns  the  glorification  of  God  by  man,  God  repented  that  he  had 
made  him,  yet,  upon  the  Avhole,  God's  purpose  and  plan  were  unal- 
tered. 

It  has  frequently  been  objected  to  the  Pentateuch,  that  it  repre- 
sents the  Deity  as  vindictive  and  Avrathful,  which  character  has  been 
regarded  by  not  a  few  as  inconsistent  with  what  is  known  of  God 
from  his  works  and  providence,  and  especially  from  the  Christian 
revelation.  ]3ut  avc  must  bear  in  mind  that  God,  like  a  wise  legis- 
lator, accommodates  his  laws  to  the  condition  of  men.  The  Penta- 
teuch contains  both  a  civil  and  a  religious  code  of  laws,  the  violation 
of  whicli  was  punished  in  this  icorld  *  by  very  severe  penalties.  In 
that  age  very  stringent  laws  were  necessary  in  order  to  keep  the  peo- 
ple from  grievous  sins,  idolatry  especially,  and  to  show  in  the  most 
striking  manner  God's  hatred  against  sin,  and  that  it  might  be  a 
warning  to  future  generations.  And  in  the  book  of  nature  and  in 
Christianity,  as  well  as  in  the  Pentateuch,  God's  hatred  of  sin  is 
clearly  manifested. 

Dr.  Hengstenherg  discusses  at  considerable  length  the  right  of  the 
Israelites  to  the  land  of  Canaan.  Some,  as  Michaelis,  argue 
that  the  Hebrews,  from  time  immemorial,  held  Palestine  as  a  pasture 
land,  and  that  the}'-  never  sun-cndered  that  right,  and  when  they  took 
the  land  they  simply  recovered  their  right.  Others,  as  Faber,  con- 
tend that  the  idea  of  property  in  that  age  was  very  faint  and  indefi- 
nite, that  poicer  gave  right,  and  that  our  opinion  of  what  was  right 
lu  tliat  age  is  not  to  be  derived  from  modern  conceptions.  Dissatis- 
fied with  these  views,  our  author  adopts  the  opinion,  which  is  far 

•*  >Ve  .1o  not  laean  that  Moses  aiul  the  rest  of  the  Israelites  did  not  iwpcct  fu- 
ture retribution,  but  eimply  that  Moses  is  silent  respecting  it. 


98  Hengstenherg  on  the  Pentateuch.  [January, 

preferable,  that  the  right  of  the  Israelites  to  Canaan  depended  upon 
the  free  gift  of  God,  who  is  Lord  over  all. 

The  purloining  of  the  vessels  of  the  Egyptians  by  the  Israelites, 
is  next  considered.  According  to  the  English  version,  God  com- 
manded the  Israelites,  -when  they  T\-ere  about  to  leave  Egypt,  "  to 
boiTow  of  their  neighbours  jewelry,"  &c.,  and  thus  to  spoil  the 
Egyptians.  Exod.  iii,  22.  The  defenders  of  the  Pentateuch  gener- 
ally take  the  ground  that  the  spoiling  of  the  Egyptians  was  perfectly 
justifiable,  because  God  possesses  absolute  power  overall  property,  and 
can  transfer  it  to  whomever  he  pleases,  and  because  the  Israelites  had 
been  oppressed  by  the  Egyptians.  Dr.  Hengstenherg  regards  this 
defence  as  weak.  The  Hebrew  verb  '^K'i  rendered  by  our  transla- 
tors horroioed,  he  renders  " desired"  and  its  Hiphel  form  "^i^rn 
rendered  "lent,"  he  translates  to  cause  to  ash,  to  give  willingly: 
i.  e.,  the  Egyptians  willingly  gave  them  these  things  without  ex- 
pecting a  return  of  them.  ;x-ij  it  is  true,  means  to  ask,  as  well  as 
to  burroiv,  yet  we  hardly  think  that  its  Hiphel  form  should  be  ren- 
dered to  cause  to  ash,  but  rather,  to  cavse  to  horroxu ;  *  i.  e.,  ^o  lend, 
since  the  lender  in  a  certain  sense  is  the  cause  of  the  borrowing,  for 
without  his  consent  the  borrower  could  not  borrow.  (Compare  the 
Greek  davel^io,  to  lend,  mid.  davei^o^at,  to  have  lent^io  one,  to  hor- 
roir.)  The  Egj-ptians  expected  the  return  of  the  Israelites,  for 
the  latter  declared  that  they  were  going  three  days'  journey  into  the 
wilderness  to  sacrifice  to  God.  They  then  asked  or  demanded  of 
the  Egyptians  jewels,  etc.,  to  be  worn  during  their  sacrifice ;  the 
Egyptians,  of  course,  expecting  their  return,  would  also  expect  a  res- 
toration of  their  jewels.  But  the  point  of  difficulty  is  to  free  the 
Israelites  from  the  charge  of  deception  toward  the  Egyptians — a  decep- 
tion which  God  himself  is  represented  as  commanding  them  to  prac- 
tise. That  God  does  sometimes  deceive  icickcd  men,  is  clear  from 
Scripture.  In  1  Kings  xxii,  we  have  an  account  of  Ahab's  beinf^ 
deceived  by  false  prophets  and  slain  in  battle ;  and  it  is  said  that  the 
Lord  scut  a  lying  spirit  to  deceive  him,  that  he  might  be  slain.  And 
in  2  Thcss.  ii,  11,  in  reference  to  the  wicked :  "  God  shall  send  them 
strong  delusion,  that  they  should  believe  a  lie."  There  was  decep- 
tion practised  upon  riunaoh ;  for  Moses  asked  of  him  to  let  the  Isra- 
elites go  into  the  vrilderness  to  sacrifice,  clearly  intimating  that  they 
would  retmm  again.  As  Pharaoh  and  a  part  of  his  people  were  de- 
voted to  destruction,  deception  may  have  been  practised  upon  them 

*^'  Gcscnhis  gives  the  Iliiihcl  of  this  verb  to  moan,  to  loan,  to  lend;  Buxtorf,  Mu- 
tuavil,  Cirrnmodo  dcdit  pcloili.  Tlie  same  verb  in  Syriac  in  Apbcl,  •which  con'e- 
spouJs  to  llii)hel  in  Hebrew,  means  to  lend. 


1S53.]  Hengstenberg  on  the  Pentateuch.  99 

to  a  certain  extent  Avithout  the  violation  of  any  of  the  moral  attri- 
butes of  God.  In  plundering  them  of  their  property,  vre  see  no  dif- 
culty.  God  has  an  absolute  right  to  dispose  of  property  as  he 
pleases.  The  man  -who  does  not  object  to  God's  overthroAving  the 
Ki'vptians  in  the  Red  Sea,  or  to  his  slaying  their  first-born  by  an 
Angel,  will  hardly  object  to  his  depriving  them  of  their  property  by 
human  instrumentalities. 

Passing  by  several  other  points  discussed  by  our  author,  we  pro- 
ceed to  sum  up  briefly  the  arguments  for  the  genuineness  and  au- 
thenticity of  the  Pentateuch,  which  appear  to  us  the  strongest.^hough 
some  of  them  Dr.  H.  does  not  touch  : — 

I.  The  Pentateuch  professes  to  be  written  by  Moses,  and  there  is 
always  presumptive  tiiith  of  the  declaration  of  the  writer,  unless 
some  strong  indication  of  imposture  can  be  shown,  which,  in  the 
present  case,  there  is  not. 

II.  There  has  been  no  period  in  Jewish  history,  with  which  we 
are  acquainted,  when  the  Pentateuch  was  ascribed  to  any  other 
person  than  Moses.  Let  us  briefly  run  over  the  proofs  of  this, 
beginning  with  2  Chronicles.  In  this  book  it  is  related  that  Jo- 
siah  read  the  book  of  the  law  of  Moses  before  all  the  people. 
(B.  C.  024).  In  the  same  book,  in  the  time  of  Ilezekiah,  about 
a  hundred  years  earlier,  mention  is  made  of  a  written  law  of  Moses  ; 
a  century  and  a  half  earlier  still  we  have  the  same  allusion  made. 
And,  B.  C.  937,  Lcvitcs  are  spoken  of  who  had  the  book  of  the 
law  of  the  Lord.  In  2  Kings  reference  is  made  to  the  book  of 
the  law  of  the  Lord.  Going  still  farther  back,  we  have,  in  the 
book  of  Joshua,  an  express  reference  to  the  Pentateuch,  under 
the  title  of  the  book  of  the  law  of  ]Moses.  ISow  the  book  of 
.Io.=>hua  was  written  before  the  time  of  David.  For  it  is  said  in  it, 
tliat  "the  children  of  Judah  could  not  drive  out  the  Jebifsites, 
the  inhabitants  of  Jerusalem,  but  that  they  dwell  with  the  children 
of  Judah  at  Jerusalem  unto  this  day,"  (Joshua  xv,  63;)  that  is, 
when  the  book  was  written.  The  same  allusion  is  made  in  Judges. 
I*ut  we  find  in  2  Sam.  v,  7-9,  that  David  drove  them  out.  The 
Pentateuch  must,  therefore,  have  existed  before  the  time  of  David. 
licsidcs  these  references,  we  find  numerous  allusions  to  it  in  the 
Proj)hets,  and  in  the  various  institutions  of  the  Jews  in  every  pe- 
riod. And  when  wc  consider  the  great  importance  of  the  book 
ns  the  standing  code  of  laws  of  the  Jewish  people,  and  that  tb.oy 
have  universally  ascribed  it  to  Moses— that  at  present  it  is  one 
of  tiio  articles  of  their  faith— we  have  strong  reason  to  believe  that 
it  really  proceeded  from  him. 

III.  it  is  very  improbable  that  Moses  woidd  have  intrusted  his 


100  Hengstenherg  on  the  Pentateuch.  [January, 

laws  to  the  uncertain  mode  of  tradition,  when  the  art  of  writing 
afforded  such  a  convenient  and  certain  way  of  transmitting  them 
to  posterity.  If  it  has  been  thought  an  argument  in  proof  of  the 
genuineness  of  the  Homeric  poems,  that  it  would  be  unreasonable 
to  suppose  that  they  could  have  been  committed  to  memory  and 
preserved  so  long  without  being  written,  we  think  the  same  kind 
of  argument  can  be  used  in  regard  to  the  Pentateuch. 

IV.  The  historical  stand-point  of  the  Pentateuch  certainly  ac- 
cords with  the  Mosaic  age,  and  had  it  been  written  later,  the 
descrijjtion  of  nations  and  kingdoms  would  have  been  far  differ- 
ent. The  particularity  of  description  which  everywhere  abounds, 
shows  an  eye-witness,  while  the  manners  and  customs  which  are 
ascribed  to  its  characters  are  such  as  belonged  to  tliat  early  age. 

V.  The  journe3-ing  of  the  Israelites  through  the  Avilderness  could 
only  have  been  written  by  one  well  acquainted  with  the  whole  af- 
fair. The  location  of  the  various  places  is  described  with  so  much 
accuracy  that  it  would  have  been  impossible  for  a  forger  in  Pal- 
estine to  have  executed  it.  The  researches  of  modern  travellers, 
confirm  in  a  remarkable  degree  the  authenticity  of  the  Penta- 
teuch. 

VI.  The  archaisins  in  the  Pentateuch  indicate  its  great  anti- 
quity. Whoever  reads  with  any  degree  of  attention  the  Hebrew 
Bible,  cannot  fail  to  perceive  in  the  Pentateuch  a  considerable 
difference  from  the  other  books  of  the  Bible  in  the  use  of  words 
and  phrases,  n,  a  pronoun,  occurs  in  the  Pentateuch  as  common 
gender,  he  or  slie ;  in  the  other  books  a  separate  form,  -n,  is  used 
for  the  feminine.  This  latter  form,  however,  is  used  eleven  times 
in  the  Pentateuch,  "irs  in  the  Pentateuch  is  common  gender,  mean- 
ing a  hoy  or  girl;  in  the  other  books,  with  perhaps  one  or  two 
exceptions,  it  has  an  addition  n,  making  it  rr^'J}_.  ^s:  for  n^J*,  these,  is 
found  only  in  the  Pentateuch,  with  the  exception  of  1  Chron.  xx,  8. 
There  are  various  other  words  and  phrases  of  a  similar  nature 
which  are  confined  to  the  Pentateuch. 

It  has,  nevertheless,  been  objected  that  the  difference  between 
the  Pentateuch  and  the  other  books  of  the  Bible  is  not  as  great 
as  Ave  might  exjiect  from  its  alleged  antiquity.  But  we  must  bear 
in  mind  that  the  Oriental  languages  possess  more  stability  than 
the  Western.  And  it  is  said  that  the  Arabic  language  has  suf- 
fered but  little  change  within  the  last  twelve  centuries.  As  the  books 
of  Moses  contained  the  civil  and  religious  code  of  the  Israelites, 
it  fixed  and  moulded  in  a  great  degree  the  whole  language,  which 
was  not  until  a  later  period  disturbed  by  foreign  inlluence.  It  must 
also  be  remembered  that  Moses  wrote  tlie  Pentateuch  without  vowel 


lSu3.]  Hengstenherg  on  the  Pentateuch.  101 

points.  These  points  and  the  marks  indicating  the  doubling  of  the 
consonants,  were  not  written  until  about  two  "thousand  years  after 
Mose3.  Accordingly,  the  changes  that  occurred  in  the  vowels  and 
in  the  dovibling  of  the  consonants  fail  to  be  seen  on  account  of  the 
language  being  punctuated  by  a  later  standard.* 

yil.  If  the  Pentateuch  Avas  not  written  by  Moses,  to  whom  shall 
we  ascribe  it?  From  the  Mosaic  age  to  the  Babylonian  captivity, 
there  was  no  person  upon  whom  we  can  fix  with  any  probability  as 
its  author.  It  suits  no  other  age  but  the  Mosaic ;  and  those  who 
deny  its  genuineness  are  by  no  means  agi-eed  respecting  its  age  and 
authorship. 

^'III.  To  these  arguments  in  proof  of  the  genuineness  of  the  Pen- 
tateuch, we  must  add  the  testimony  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  who 
c.\-]>ressly  calls  it  Moses'  writing. 

We  shall  now  make  a  few  remarks  of  a  somewhat  different  nature 
on  the  authenticity  of  the  Pentateuch. 

Moses  alone  taught  a  pure  system  of  theology.  While  the  scientific 
Eg}'ptians  were  worshipping  the  beasts  of  the  field  and  the  crocodiles 
of  the  river— while  the  Chaldeans  and  Assyrians  were  prostrating 
themselves  before  the  sun,  or  worshipping  fii-e— while  the  polished 
Greek  was  adoring  a  plurality  of  gods  of  vicious  character,— the 
Jews,  far  behind  them  in  most  of  the  arts  of  peace  and  war,  adhered, 
as  taught  by  Moses,  to  the  unity,  eternity,  omniscience  and  omni- 
presence of  God— those  attributes  of  the  Deity  which  modern  philos- 
ophers demonstrate.  He  was  surrounded  by  idolaters,  yet  uncon- 
tuminated  by  them. 

^  The  laws  of  Moses  are  perfectly  free  from  everything  like  augur}-, 
divination,  and  conjuration,  which  ran  through  every  system  of  pa- 
ganism ;  interwoven  with  all  their  religious  services.  Why  the 
Jewish  religion  alone  should  have  been  free  from  these  superstitions, 
can  only  be  explained  by  referring  it  to  a  divine  origin. 

But  the  Deist  objects  that  the  early  history  of  every,  or  nearly 
every  other  nation  is  fabulous,  and,  therefore,  that  of  the  Jews  is 
fabulous  too :  but  he  objects  little  to  the  point ;  for  a'//// is  the  early 
hi.story  of  other  nations  fabulous  ?—  simply  because  there  were  no 
historians  in  those  early  ages.  Greece  was  settled  about  eighteen 
huuflrcd  years  B.  C. ;  but  we  have  no  Greek  historian  before  Herodo- 
tus, who  lived  about  450  B.  C.  Rome  was  founded  about  750  B.  C. ; 
yc't  Its  most  ancient  historian  was  Fabins  Pictor,  Avho  lived  about  200 
y  C.  Is  it  any  wonder,  then,  that  the  early  history  of  these  nations 
13  fabulous  V     The  vast  chasm  was  to  be  filled  up  with  something. 

Iho  iJiiTK-iiial  cli.Tiiire  tliat  takes  place  in  words  is  in  tlieir  vowels  and  in  the 
doubling:  .if  tlu'ir  consonants  :  at  loast  it  i.s  so  in  the  English  lauguago. 


102  Recently  Puhlishcd  Writings  of  Neandcr.     [January, 

Here  was  ample  room  for  the  fictions  of  the  poets.  How  different 
is  the  case  with  the  liistory  of  the  Jews,  who  possessed  written  rec- 
ords and  historians  from  Moses  to  Malachi.  The  Jewish  history 
contained  in  the  Pentateuch  has  every  mark  of  credibihty,  and  its 
miracles  are  referred  to  in  the  subsequent  books  of  the  Bible.  It  is, 
however,  unnecessary  to  dwell  longer  upon  this  point,  since  the  truth 
of  the  history  in  the  Pentateuch  follows  naturally  from  its  genu- 
ineness. 


Art.  VI.— RECEXTLY   PUBLISHED   WRITINGS    OF   NEANDER. 

1.  AllgetrKine  Geschiclite  der  chrisllichcn  Riligion  und  Kirche,  von  Dr.  A.  Ne.vm)EF.. 
VL  Band.  Au3  Jcr  Iiinierlasscncn pa^iercn  licvausgegeben  vou  K.  F.  T.  Schneider. 
Pp.  80 J.     Hamburg.   18-32. 

2.  Wissoischafdiche  ^hhandlungen  von  Dr.  ArcusT  XiLijN'DER,  kerausgegcbcn  von 
Professor  J.  L.  Jacoei.     8vo.     Berlin.    1851. 

Ix  the  work  first  named  at  the  head  of  this  article,  we  have  a  pre- 
cious proof  of  that  entire  devotion  to  the  cause  of  Christ's  kingdom 
which  marked  the  latest  hours  of  Neaxder's  life,  as  it  had  before 
characterized  so  many  laborious  years.  I^o  part  of  his  great  Church 
History  abounds  more  in  material  of  interest  and  importance  than 
this  posthumous  volume,  which  extends  from  the  end  of  the  thir- 
teenth up  to  the  middle  of  the  fifteenth  century.  Li  suffering  and 
weakness  Avas  this  last  work  of  the  great  man's  life  accomplished; 
disease  had  almost  worn  away  his  feeble  frame,  and  his  eyes  no 
longer  served  him  in  that  close  scrutiny  of  the  original  sources  which 
had  always  been,  with  him,  a  necessary  preparation  for  treating 
any  portion  of  the  history  of  Christ's  Church.  P^educed  to  depend- 
ence upon  amanuenses — not  always  the  most  skilful — the  heroic 
scholar  had  need  of  toil  and  patience  more  than  ever,  and  they  were 
not  wanting.  Painfully,  yet  earnestly  and  faithfully — but  not  without 
constant  inward  consolations,  and  not  without  glimpses  of  the  bright 
land  of  rest,  where  there  is  no  dimness  of  vision,  nor  pain,  nor 
weariness — did  he  pursue  the  task  to  which  in  his  youth  and  hope, 
believing  that  God  had  called  him,  he  liad  solemnly  consecrated 
himself — the  task  of  setting  forth  the  history  of  the  Church  of 
Christ  as  a  speaking  witness  of  tl\e  divine  power  of  Christianity;  as 
a  school  of  Christian  experience  ;  as  a  voice,  sounding  through  the 
ages,  of  edification,  of  instruction,  and  of  warning,  for  all  that  will 
hear  it. 


1853.]         Recently  Published  Writings  of  Neander.  103 

The  circumstances  under  whicli  this  last  volume  appears,  afford 
sufiicicnt  excuse,  if  any  be  needed,  for  an  occasional  lack  of  that 
nice  precision,  that  careful  gathering  up  of  the  threads  of  the  narra- 
tive in  detail,  and  that  masterl}^  imveaving  of  them  all  into  the  vicb 
of  his  philosophical  history,  that  so  marked  all  those  parts  of  the 
work  to  which  jS'cander  himself  had  given  the  finishing  touch.     It 
must  not  be  inferred,  however,  that  the  volume  is  a  mere  collection 
of  scattered  and  unfinished  fragments.    The  manuscript,  in  the  main, 
was  left  by  the  gi-eat  master  in  a  form  not  unworthy  of  him ;  and, 
thanks  to  the  reverent  industry  and  unceasing  care  of  the  editor,  it 
api)ears  now  in  a  form  at  once  authentic  and  readable.    ]M.  Schneider 
was  one  of  Meander's  most  devoted  and  faithful  students,  and  pre- 
pared, under  his  direction,  the  last  editions  of  his  monographs  on 
}3ernard,  Chrysostom,  and  Tertullian.     He  has  spared  no  labour 
nor  even  expense  in  editing  the  present  work ;  and  we  may  be  sure 
that  it  is,  as  he  has  given  it,  as  correct  and  complete  as  it  could  have 
been  made  by  any  hands  except  iS^eander's  own.     lie  tells  us  in  his 
preface,  that  he  prefers  to  be  charged  with  having  followed  the  text 
of  i\i(i  manuscripts  too  closely,  and  even  too  slavishly,  rather  than 
with  changing  the  language  of  the  author,  at  his  own  will  and  pleas- 
ure.    His  close  connexion  with  Neander  gave  him  ample  opportu- 
nity to  leam  his  methods  and  habits  of  working,  and  this  knowledge 
has  been  turned  to  good  account  in  the  arrangement  of  such  parts  of 
the  work  as  had  not  been  at  all  revised  for  the  press  by  the  author, 
^'eander  himself,  in  view  of  his  failing  health,  and  especially  of  his 
waning  eyesight,  often  spoke  of  completing  his  Church  History  in  a 
compendious,  or  at  least  abridged,  form ;'  but  his  love  for  this,  his 
life's  work,  and  a  hope,  cherished  almost  against  hope,  that  his  eyes 
might  regain  their  strength,  tempted  him^to  labour  onto  the  last 
upon  his  original  plan. 

The  volume  carries  the  history  of  the  Church  down  from  the  time 
of  Boniface  VIII.  to  the  beginning  of  the  Coimcil  of  Basle.  The 
Jirst  division,  which  treats  of  the  Church  Constitution  and  of  the 
1  apacy,  during  the  period  named,  was  left  by  the  author  in  a  far 
nim-e  complete  fom  than  the  second  and  later  portion.  It  bcLnns 
^vlth  tliat  remarkable  epoch  in  the  history  of  the  papacy  wlJich 
might  almost  take  its  name  and  designation  from  Boniface,  whom 
yvt-n  a  papal  annalist  styles  fuctiosus,  ct  arrosrans,  ac  omnium  con- 
I'.'mftri/s. 

Ut'^lllvl'Tr'}  '-'^  "^I*  ^P'^itual  character  and  of  all  moral  Tvorth.  this  Pono  nirwlo 
m  >■  it;  ,■'  V^'""  '^-y""'y^  '"^'"^  tliorefore  brought  upon  hirn.ch-thc  -roaf- 
Wm'!  ,  ;  ?  1  •  .  V,"  -''^^'^  ''"^  ''^^^-^  '"  ^'>«  ^'■^'''-  of  IJ'vinc  IVc.vi.icM.Hs  iho 
flo^^, ,'?'  I'r,  n\i  '^"n'ii}'-e  brou-ht  upon  himself,  and  the  con>e([Uciic.s  v,  lii.-li 

»oy.^  I  tn.iu  U.,,u,,  j,ave  rise  to  the  subsequent  strifes  which  shook  a.i.l  sluUtcrcd 


104  Recently  Published  W?-iti?igs  of  Neandcr.   [January, 

tlie  tbcixratic  ecclesiastical  system  of  the  middle  ages.  The  chain  of  events 
can  be  readily  traced,  link  by  link,  from  this  period  down  to  the  time  of  the 
General  Councils." — P.  2. 

The  chief  aim  of  ]Scander  in  treating  the  period  of  Church  His- 
tory bet^veen  Boniface's  time  and  the  Council  of  Basle,  is  to  Dlus- 
tratc  the  opposition  betAVOcn  the  monarchico-absolutistic  and  the  ar- 
istocratico-reformatory  tendencies — these  being,  according  to  his 
views,  the  two  leading  ideas  developed  in  that  time.  The  doings  of 
the  Council  of  Costnitz  are  pretty  fully  examined,  fifty  pages  being 
allotted  to  their  treatment. 

The  plan  pursued  by  Neander  in  his  former  volumes  was  to  treat, 
under  each  period  of  the  history,  first,  of  the  external  history  of 
Christianity,  its  limits,  extension,  v^c. ;  secondly,  of  the  Church 
constitution,  discipline,  schisms,  iVsc. ;  third,  of  Christian  life  and 
worship  :  and  fourth,  of  Christian  doctrine.  But  the  third  of  these 
heads  is  wanting  in  the  present  volume ;  the  lamented  author  devo- 
ted all  the  brief  remainder  of  his  allotted  time  to  the  subject  of  the- 
ology and  doctrine,  with  which  no  less  than  five  hundred  pages  are 
occupied.  Here  the  line  of  thought  follows  the  opposition  between 
the  corrupt  middle-age  system  of  the  Church  and  the  germs  of 
new  creations  which  characterize  this  period  of  history.  The  wri- 
ters and  thinkers  who  were  the  precursors  of  the  lleformation  attract 
his  sympatliies  at  once,  and  arc  brought  out  boldly  upon  his  canvass. 
His  long  and  elaborate  account  of  WiCLiF  is  imbued  with  strong  ad- 
miration for  the  character  of  that  valiant  man,  whose  acutcness  as  a 
thinker,  and  boldness  as  a  reformer,  was  only  excelled  by  his  devotion 
as  a  Christian.  '•' "Wiclif was  distinguished,"  says  Iseander,  "as 
well  by  his  intellectual  gifts,  his  independent  mode  of  thinking,  and 
his  zeal  for  science,  as  by  his  devotion  at  once  to  the  welfare  of  the 
Church  and  to  the  religious  interests  of  the  masses.  In  the  thor- 
oughl}'  practical  aim  of  his  labours,  we  note  a  feature  which  strik- 
ingly characterized  the  English  mind  in  that  ago  as  well  as  iu  the 
present.  He  combined  with  it  another  element  far  more  common  in 
England  then  than  afterwards — an  original  speculative  talent." 
One  of  Wiclif 's  earliest  reformatory  works  (On  the  Ten  Com- 
mandments) gives  Xeander  occasion  for  an  acute  and  discriminating 
comparison  of  the  English  lleformation  with  the  German,  lie  treats 
at  large  Wiclif 's  doctrine  of  the  Lord's  Supper,  and  of  his  heroic 
attacks  upon  the  then  established  pretence  of  transubstantiation. 

The  tendencies  to  i-eformation  in  Bohemia  are  very  fully  treated, 
occupyijig  not  less  than  one-tliird  of  tiie  entire  volume.  The  subject 
was  a  thoronghly  congenial  one,  and  Meander  depicts  the  heroic  spirits 
who  anticipated  more  than  a  century  the  spirit  and  doctrines  of  the 


1853.]         Recently  Published  Writings  of  Neancler.  105 

lleforraation,  with  a  cordial  sympathy  that  gives  life  to  his  conception 
of  tlieir  character  and  work,  and  Avarms  his  narrative  stylo  into  a 
glowing  eloquence.  Among  the  predecessors  of  Huss,  the  naraejj 
of  MiLicz,  Conrad  of  Waldhausen,  and  Matthias  Von  Janow. 
stand  preeminent.  The  character  and  services  of  the  latter  are  now 
for  the  first  time  fully  made  known,  at  least  in  recent  times ;  his 
principal  work,  de  Rcgidis  vcteris  et  novi  Testamenti,  has  hereto- 
fore hiin  unexamined  in  manuscript  at  Prague,  or,  at  least,  only 
published  in  small  fragments.  Neander  gave  this  manuscript  a  thor- 
ough examination,  and  devotes  no  less  than  seventy  pages  to  an  ex- 
position and  review  of  it. 

But  the  "  sainted  Huss,"  as  iSeander  loved  to  call  him,  forms  the 
central  figure  in  this  glorious  group  of  "Reformers  before  the  Ref- 
ormation." Our  author  s  admiration  of  Huss's  talents,  character, 
and  work,  seems  to  know  no  limits ;  and  in  giving  the  fidl  history  of 
his  life  and  writings  (taking  nearl}^  three  hundred  pages)  which  this 
volume  affords,  he  lias  performed  a  labour  of  love.  Huss's  writings 
were  probably  more  thoroughly  studied  by  Il^eander  than  they  have 
ever  before  been,  and  he  gives  us  rich  and  copious  extracts  fiom 
them.  Although  this  part  of  the  volume  failed  to  receive  the  finisii- 
ing  touch  from  the  author's  hand,  and  shows,  here  and  there,  signs 
of  the  unpropitious  circumstances  under  which  it  was  prepared,  it 
is  yet,  without  doubt,  the  best  account  of  Huss's  life  and  writings, 
and  of  their  bearing  upon  the  history  of  the  Cluirch,  of  which  we 
are  possessed. 

The  concluding  section  (pp.  728-790)  is  an  incomplete  essay 
upon  the  ^Mystics  of  the  fourteenth  century,  the  so-called  "  Friends 
of  God."  The  origin  of  this  form  of  ]Mysticism,  ISicander  finds  in 
the  constant  tendency  of  the  German  mind  to  seek  for  the  elements 
of  religious  life  and  growth  not  merely  in  outward  and  ecclesiastical 
forms,  but  in  the  inner  depths  of  the  human  heart  in  its  relations  to 
God ;  and  also  in  the  reaction  of  the  theological  mind  against  the 
scholastic  doctrine  which  had  separated  itself  almost  entirely  from 
religious  feeling.  The  name  "  Friends  of  God  "  is  not  to  be  under- 
stood as  the  designation  of  a  sect  or  party ;  it  was  applied  to  a  class- 
of  writers  and  preachers,  and  to  the  people  who  followed  them,  in 
believing  that  love  to  God  should  be  free  from  all  individual  self- 
seeking,  in  opposition  to  that  "  condition  of  bondage,  in  which  man 
seeks  after  God  for  something  else  beside  and  beyond  God  himself." 
Aft<.'r  this  brief  exposition,  he  gives  an  account,  in  rapid  sketches,  of 
the  chit-f  leaders  of  the  movement,  and  of  others  more  or  loss  allied  to 
them,  viz.,  Micholas  of  J'.asel;  Master  Eckart,  the  pemi -pantheistic 
Dominican;  .John  Rnysbrock,  the  doctor  ecstaticus  oi  y>n\h-AV\i,  pcr- 

FouuTii  Series,  Vol.  V. V 


106  Recently  Published  Writings  of  Neander.     [January, 

haps  the  most  dreamy  and  visionary  of  the  Mystics ;  and  John  Tauler, 
tlieologv.s  subUinis ct  illumiiialus,  under  Avhose  preaching  men  are  said 
to  have  fallen  down  senseless.  It  is  \Yorthy  of  remark  that  jSean- 
der,  "vvho  has  himself,  from  his  S{)irit  of  "CTmtcmplation  and  unselfish 
piety,  been  called  "  the  Friend  of  God,"  spent  his  last  days  in  the 
study  of  these  M3-stics,  and  that  his  -wandering  mind,  iu  the  gentle 
phantasies  that  floated  before  it  in  his  last  hours,  was  dAvelling 
upon  them. 

We  hope  soon  to  be  furnished  -svith  the  final  volumes  of  Professor 
Torre^-'s  excellent  translation  of  Meander's  great  Avork,  including 
the  posthumous  portion  of  Yvhich  we  have  given  so  brief  and  hurried 
an  account. 

The  second  work  named  in  oirr  rubric  is  a  collection  of  scientific 
papers  and  addresses.  !Xeander  was  a  member  of  the  Berlin  Acad- 
emy of  Sciences  from  1S39  to  the  time  of  his  death.  His  papers, 
read  at  the  various  meetings  of  the  Academy,  were  printed  in  its 
""Transactions;"  but  as  those  learned  volumes  are  not  generally 
.accessible,  it  was  thought  advisable  to  reprint  them  for  moi-e  extend- 
ed circulation.  The  editor  has  also  added  to  them  a  number  of  ad- 
dresses and  essays  of  similar  character,  elsewhere  delivered.  The 
first  paper  in  the  volume  is  an  essay  on  "The  Relations  of  Theol- 
•ogy  to  Rational  Science."  The  second  paper  treats  on  the  "  Life 
and  Character  of  Eustathius,  Archbisliop  of  Thessalonica,"  well 
known  as  a  commentator  on  Homer,  but  not  at  all  known  in  his 
■character  as  moralist  and  reformer,  iu  which  respect  this  essay  sets 
him  in  a  new  light.  Then  follows  an  essay  on  the  "  Historical  Im- 
portance of  the  Kinth  Book  in  the  2d  ^Eneid  of  Plotinus."  ISIc- 
ander  depicts  the  great  Keo-Platonic  philoso])her  as  the  representa- 
tive of  the  Hellenic  mind,  struggling  against  Oriental  and  Christian 
influences.  In  the  fourth  paper  we  have  the  "  Classification  of  the 
Virtues,  by  Thomas  Aquinas."  JSeander  thinks  that  in  his  services 
for  the  development  of  moral  philosophy,  the  Angelic  Doctor  stands 
second  only  to  Aristotle ;  both  in  this  essay  and  in  his  Church  His- 
tory he  labours  to  impress  U])on  his  readers  the  prei.-niincnt  value  of 
Aquinas's  contributions  to  ethical  science.  The  comparison,  in  the 
essay,  between  Aquinas's  division  of  the  Virtues  and  that  made  by 
the  ancient  philosophers,  is  very  instructive.  Indeed,  this  paper, 
and  the  ninth  iu  this  volume, — "  On  the  Relation  of  the  Grecian 
Ethics  to  the  Christian," — may  be  regarded  as  valuable  contributions 
1,0  the  History  of  Ethics,  a  branch  of  knowledge  which  sadly  needs 
to  bo  treated  anew  in  a  thoroughly  scientific  spirit.  This  latter  es- 
say draws  .a  series  of  parallels  between  the  principles  of  Christian 


1853.}  Cliuteauhriahd.  107 

morals  and  those  of  the  Stoics,  and  of  Socrates,  Plato,  Aristotle,  and 
riotiuns.  The  fifth  and  sixth  Essays,  treating. of  "Pascal's Philos- 
ophy of  lU'ligion,"  have  been  translated  and  published  in  Kitto's 
Jounial  of  Biblical  Literature.  The  seventh  paper,  on  "Matthias 
Von  .lanow,"  agrees  in  the  main  with  the  account  of  that  reformer 
p^ivon  in  the  Church  History,  as  stated  above.  The  eighth  inquires 
into  the  origin  of  the  sect  known  under  the  name  of  "  Yezidis,  or 
Devil  Wor3hippers,"of  whom  Laj-ard  gives  us  some  account  in  his 
"  Nineveh  and  its  Remains."  IS'eander  makes  use  of  the  various 
extant  accounts  of  those  strange  people — especially  that  of  the 
American  Missionary,  ^l\\  Grant — and  comes  to  the  conclusion  that 
the  Yezidis  are  the  remains  of  the  Euchites  of  the  eleventh  centu- 
ry, one  branch  of  whom,  under  the  name  of  Bogomitos,  penetrated 
into  Europe  in  the  twelth.  The  last  paper  in  the  volume  is  a  Church- 
historical  sketch  of  "  The  Last  Half- Century  in  its  Relations  to  the 
Present,"  in  which  Neander  treats  especially  of  the  influence  of 
Schleiermacher,  and  of  the  Church-Union  in  Prussia. 


Art.  VIL— CIIATEAUBKIAND. 

yicmoi>-cs<r  outre  Tomhe  par  M.  Viscount  du  Chntcauhriand.    Paris.    ISjO. 

Ciiati-:aueria>;d  associated  his  name  Avith  so  many  places  and  ideas 
tliat  almost  every  one,  at  some  time  or  other,  is  drawn  into  an  ima- 
ginative relation  with  him.  The  picture  which  first  caught  our  eye 
on  entering  the  Louvre,  was  one  representing  an  aged  monk  and  a 
liand.-^ome  youth  about  to  commit  the  body  of  a  lovely  maiden  to  a 
grave,  obviously  hollowed  by  themselves,  in  the  verdant  depths  of  a 
forest.  The  pious  tranquillity  of  the  aged  priest,  the  despairing 
grief  of  the  young  lover,  and  the  exquisite  loveliness  of  the  corpse, 
instuntly  revealed  that  unity  of  effect  which  leaves  an  indelible  im- 
pression. On  turning  to  the  catalogue,  we  found  the  painting  enti- 
tled "  The  Burial  of  Atala."  With  this  souvenir  of  Chateaubriand, 
encountered  within  a  week  of  landing  in  Europe,  is  linked  the  mem- 
ory of  the  only  Breton  we  ever  knew.  We  stood  together  on  the 
Campanile  at  Venice,  and  while  discussing  that  curious  impulse 
Avhich  assails  nervous  organizations  when  looking  down  from  aheiglir 
and  induces  an  almost  irresistible  desire  to  leap,  he  calmly  observed 
that  it  Avas  his  intention  to  gratify  the  propensity,  in  a  few  month?, 
by  r=pringing  from  the  precipitous  cliff  that  bounded  his  family  do- 
main in  Brittany.  Many  days  of  previous  intercourse  witli  this 
suicidal  youth  had  revealed  a  thoughtful,  self-possessed,  and  highly 


108  Chateaubriand.  [January, 

cultivated  mind,  that  forbade  our  ascribing  his  remark  to  mere  eccen- 
tricity; and  his  melancholy  view  of  life  and  his  fme  endoAvments, 
associate  him  in  our  recollection  with  his  gifted  countryman,  who, 
at  a  similar  age,  "  arrested  the  fowling-piece  with  a  tear." 

Chateaubriand  owed  his  first  literary  fame  to  American  subjects ; 
through  him  our  country  assumed  a  poetical  interest  to  European 
minds — although,  it  must  be  confessed,  this  result  is  to  be  ascribed 
rather  to  the  fancy  and  enthusiasm  than  the  authenticity  of  the  wri- 
ter. Lafayette  had  just  returned  to  France,  and  awakened  there  a 
sentiment  of  glory  in  behalf  of  the  new  republic  whoso  liberties  he 
had  assisted  to  rescue ;  and  while  this  feeling  was  yet  prevalent,  ap- 
peared the  vivid  descriptions  of  nature  and  the  forest-life  of  the  dis- 
tant continent,  from  the  glowing  pen  of  Chateaubriand.  The  vicis- 
situdes of  his  career,  the  tenacity  of  his  opinions  and  S3-mpathie3. 
his  extensive  wanderings,  and  especially  the  remarkable  identity  of 
tlie  man  with  his  country  and  the  age,  render  his  memoirs  of  unu- 
sual intei-est.  They  -exhibit  the  history  of  an  eventful  era,  mirrored, 
as  it  were,  upon  a  reflective  and  ardent  soul :  they  illustrate  how  the 
spirit  of  reform  wrestles  with  the  mind  of  an  intelligent  conserva- 
tive; and  they  afford  the  most  impressive  glimpses  of  nature,  liter- 
ature, revolutions  and  society,  as  they  appear  to  the  consciousness 
of  a  man  of  sentiment  and  philosophy  thoroughly  exposed  to  their 
agency  and  yet  capable  of  tranquil  observation.  Strongly  attached 
to  the  ideas  of  the  past— religious,  political,  and  domestic — on  account 
of  his  education  and  instincts,  ho  Avas  borne  along  the  tide  of  those 
vital  changes  that  mark  the  last  century,  at  once  their  victim  and 
expositor, — now  inspii-ed,  and  now  persecuted  by  the  course  of 
events ;  and  yet  always  preserving  intact  the  noble  individuality  of 
his  character. 

It  is  this  which  makes  us  the  willing  auditors  of  his  story,  and 
Tvhicli,  in  spite  of  the  constant  egotism  and  occasional  extravagance  of 
his  autobiography,  wins  our  warmest  attention  and  frequent  sympa- 
thy. The  hardiliood  with  wliich  he  accepts  the  conditions  of  a  des- 
tiny alternating  between  the  greatest  extremes  of  misfortune  and 
prosperity ;  the  zeal  that  sustains  his  pilgrimage  in  the  trackless  for- 
ests of  the  ^Vest  and  the  arid  desert  of  the  East ;  over  seas  and  moun- 
tains, through  unknown  crowds  of  his  fellow-beings,  and  in  the 
lonely  struggles  of  bereaved  affection,  lends  a  warmth  to  every  page 
of  hi.s  narrative;  and  amid  the  varying  panorama  tln'ough  which  he 
conducts  us,  not  for  a  moment  arc  wo  unconscious  of  the  Breton,  the 
royalist,  and  the  Frenchman  of  the  old  regime.  It  is  this  combination 
of  intense  personal  identity  with  the  most  changeful  scenes  and  for- 
tunes  that  gives  its  peculiar  charm  to  the  life  of  Chateaubriand. 


1853.]  Chateauh'iand.  IO9 

Other  travellers  have  as  well  described  America  and  the  Holy  Land 
Napoleon  and  the  Alhambra;  we  have  pictures  of  the  French  Revo- 
Jution  uiore  elaborate  than  his  ;  the  trials  and  the  triumphs  of  the 
jnan  of  letters  have  been  equally  well  chronicled,  and  the  war  of  opin- 
ion as  elo.|uently  reported ;  but  these,  and  the  countless  other  phases 
of  Chateaubriand's  experience,  are  lighted  up  in  his  record  by  ih^ 
fire  of  imagination,  outlined,  with  wonderful  distinctness  by  stron- 
feehng,  and  often  exquisitely  softened  by  the  atmosphere  of 'senti° 
raent.     Sketches  which  impress  us  with  the  intensely  picturesque  ef 
feet  of  Dante  are  interspersed  with  speculative  gossip  that  would  do 
credit  to  old  Montaigne,  and  the  author  and  lover  seem  to  chan-e 
parts  with  the  adventurer  and  the  statesman,  as  we  find  the  expeil- 
enccs  of  each  detailed  with  equal  complacency ;  yet  throu-h  and 
around  them  all  the  original  man  is  apparent-his  melancholy  rev- 
enes.  his  poetic  ecstasies,  his  profound  sensibility  to  nature  his  love 
of  gloiy,  his  devotion  to  the  past,  his  vast  anticipations   his  philo- 
sophic observation,  keen  sense  of  honour,  patriotism,  and  indepen- 
dent yet  loving  spirit:  nothing  can  be  more  manly  than  his  enter- 
prises his  endurance,  and  his  industry,  and  nothing  more  childlike 
than  his  account  of  them.     We  are  often  inclined  to  for-et  the  of- 
fensiveness  of  vanity,  as  we  read,  in  the  fruits  of  its  unconscious 
revelations  ;  we  cannot  but  perceive  that  it  is  the  vividness  of  his 
own  impressions  and  the  importance  he  attaches  to  them  that  render 
Chateaubriand  so  effective  an  author;   and  intolerable  as  would  be 
commonplace  events  thus  unfolded,  those  of  universal  interest  which 
chieHy   occupy  his    memoirs,  derive   from    this  cause  an  infinite 
attraction     Far  more  real  appears  the  historic  scenes  reviewe<l,  when 
thus  linked  with  the  thoughts  and  feelings  of  such  a  man,  and  the 
Whole  process  of  his  authorship  is  ingeniously  displayed  by  so  mi- 
nute a  history  of  his  life ;  indeed,  the  one  is  but  the  ex-poncnt  of  the 
other;  his  books  are  the  genuine  offspring  of  his  experience  and  his 
Diograj)hy-not  the  life  of  one  man,  but  an  episodical  history  of  the 
times.  -^ 

The  most  careful  limning  in  this  remarkable  picture  is  that  of 
he  early  scenes  Like  all  reminiscences,  those  of  his  childhood  are 
the  clearest  and  the  original  elements  of  his  character  there  defined 
fr^  Q.  A?  ^^\  *°  ^'''''^'  ""^  ^''^  subsequent  history.  .Following  him 
iro  n  ,_t.  Male  through  the  most  exciting  and  dramatic  incidents,  and 
•  n  1.  every  variety  of  climate  and  condition,  the  image  of  the  isola- 
<^.  thoughtful,  and  baffled  youth  rises  continually  to  our  fancv,  and 
•ApJa.ns  every  trait  of  the  man.  The  sea,  the  turret,  the  woods,  the 
paternal  austerity,  the  sisters'  love,  the  mother  s  pietv.  the  suicidal 
I>"n>'-'^^e.  the  ideal  attachment,  the  rude  manners,  and  heart  tremb- 


110  Chaieauhriand.  [Januan% 

ling  ^Yith  sensibility — all  this  half-Crabbe-like  and  half-Shaksper- 
ian  picture  of  a  young  provincial  noble"s  existence  in  Brittany  just 
before  the  Revolution,  haunts  the  memory  of  the  reader  ^vith  its  sad 
yet  truthful  lineaments.  It  also  gives  him  the  clue  to  Chateaubriand's 
soleninit}^  of  mind  and  loyalty  of  purpose.  In  the  solitude  and  se- 
cret conflicts  of  his  boyhood  originated  the  strength  of  mind,  the 
want  of  external  adaptation,  and  the  poetical  habit  of  his  nature. 
It  drew  him  into  intimacy  with  the  outward  universe  and  his  own 
soul,  and  laid  the  foundation  of  the  contem]jlative  spirit  that  accom- 
panied him  in  a  career  of  almost  incessant  activity;  thus  inducing  a 
kind  of  Hamlet  or  Jacques-like  idiosyncrasy  that,  when  deepened  by 
exile,  poverty,  and  ballled  sentiment,  gave  the  element  of  pathos 
which  distinguishes  the  most  effective  of  his  Amtings,  and  is  the  key- 
note of  his  memoirs. 

The  life  of  Chateaubriand,  thus  minutely  related,  and  made  alive 
and  dramatic  by  the  fidelity  and  emotion  with  which  it  is  portrayed, 
naturally  arranges  itself  into  scenes,  each  of  which  illustrates  an 
entire  act.  Thus,  from  the  chateau-life  of  his  childhood  we  follow 
him  to  college,  and  thence  to  Paris,  and  stand  beside  him  at  the  win- 
dow where  his  heart  sickened  as  the  heads  of  the  first  victims  of 
the  Ilevolution  were  borne  along  on  pikes ;  then  behold  him  seated 
by  an  Indian  camp-fire,  within  hearing  of  the  Falls  of  iSiagara;  a 
few  months  elapse  and  he  is  discovered  sauntering  in  Kensington 
Gardens,  meditating  a  work  of  genius,  or  shaving  his  last  crust  with 
a  brother  exile  in  a  London  garret;  within  a  year  the  teacher  of  an 
English  country  maiden  in  a  distant  parish ;  shortly  afterwards  the 
secretary  of  Cardinal  Fesch,  at  Home ;  then  a  pilgrim  to  Jerusalem, 
animated  by  the  old  crusader  spirit ;  previously  a  soldier  in  the 
French  arnrv'  besieging  Thironville,  or  begging,  Avounded,  at  a  fisher- 
man's hut;  again,  in  retirement  at  the  Vallce.  mix  Loups,  planting 
or  writing;  now  fraternizing  Avith  the  Parisian  litterateurs  of  a  past 
generation,  now  braving  Napoleon  in  an  inaugural  discourse  before  the 
French  Institute,  and  now  f. 'ting  the  English  nobility  as  ambassador 
to  the  Court  of  St.  James — waging  political  battles  in  Paris,  assisting 
at  the  Congress  of  Verona,  or  talking  regretfully  of  the  past,  in  his 
latter  days,  at  Madame  liccamier  s  soirees.  The  life  of  the  province, 
the  university,  the  capital — the  voyageur,  tlie  soldier,  the  author,  the 
diploiiuit,  the  journalist,  the  exile,  the  man  of  society,  .the  man  of 
State,  and  the  man  of  sentiment — all  were  known  to  their  full  sig- 
nificance in  his  adventurous  career.  Stern  as  were  the  realities  of 
his  lot,  a  vein  of  absolute  romance  is  visible  throughout :  continually 
an  episode  occurs  which  the  writer  of  fiction  would  seize  with  avid- 
ity and  elaborate  with  effect.     Imagine  the  use  to  which  might  be 


1653.3   '.  Chatcauhnand.  HI 

thus  adapted  such  incidents  as  the  niglit  he  was  an  involuntary 
prisoner  in  Westminster  Abbey,  the  circumstances  of  his  emi- 
gi-ation,  and  his  departure  from  the  army  of  the  princes — his  en- 
coiuiter  with  a  French  dancing-master  among  the  Iroquois,  his 
mariage  de  convcnance,  and  his  subsequent  love-adventure  in  Eng- 
land— his  brilliant  dehut  as  an  author,  his  shipwreck  on  returning 
from  America,  his  vigil  at  the  death-bed  of  Madame  Beaumont,  and 
his  walk  out  of  Brussels  Avhile  listening  to  the  cannons  of  AVaterloo! 
The  breath  of  every  clime,  the  discipline  of  all  vocations,  the  fiercest 
controversies  and  the  most  abstract  reveries,  associations  of  the 
highest  kind  and  events  of  the  most  universal  import — fame  and 
obscurit}',  riches  and  poverty,  devoted  friendship  and  pitiable  isola- 
tion, contact  with  the  past  through  keen  sympathy  and  intense  ima- 
gination, identity  with  the  present  through  indefatigable  activity — 
made  up  the  existence  of  Chateaubriand,  which  was  the  successive  re- 
alization of  all  that  constitutes  the  life  of  the  mind,  of  the  heart.,  and 
of  "the  age  itself. 

•  His  social  experience  was  quite  as  varied,  interesting,  and  histor- 
ical as  the  events  of  which  he  was  a  witness  or  an  agent.  Of  the 
most  illustrious  of  his  acquaintance  and  intimate  of  his  friends,  he 
has  left  excellent  portraits,  and  highly  characteristic  personal  anec- 
dotes. Indeed,  the  manner  in  which  descriptions  of  nature  and  ad- 
venturous incident  are  blended,  in  his  memoirs,,  with  those  of  re- 
nowned or  attractive  individuals,  make  them  resemble  a  long  pic- 
ture-gallery, where  the  features  of  the  great  and  loved  beam  from 
the  wall  amid  beautiful  or  Avild  landscapes,  domestic  groups  and 
memorable  scenes  from  history.  Beginning  with  the  members  of 
his  own  family,  he  delineates  the  persons,  traits  of  character,  and 
manner  of  ^^loreau  and  Mirabeau,  Laharpe  an<l  his  literary  coterie, 
JNapoleon  and  Washington,  Canning,  Neckar,  Talleyrand,  the  Duch- 
ess de  Bcrri,  Charles  X.,  Lafayette,  the  French  emigrants  in  Lon- 
don, the  Aborigines  in  America,  his  Irish  hostess,  with  her  passion 
for  cats,  at  Hempstead,  Charlotte,  his  beloved  English  pupil,  Mad- 
ame Bacciocchi,  Madame  de  Coulin,  IMadame  Dudevant, — in  a  word, 
all  his  political,  literary,  and  personal  acquaintances.  The  distinct 
outline  and  graceful  colouring  of  these  portraits  bespeak  the  artist : 
but  we  owe  the  effective  style  in  which  they  are  conceived  to  the  re- 
lation in  which  the  limner  stood  to  the  originals;  the  heat-lightning 
of  his  love  or  indignation  often  gives  us  veritable  glimpses  more  im- 
pressive than  a  detailed  but  less  vivid  revelation  could  yield :  thus 
his  two  interviews  with  Bonaparte  and  Washington,  the  manner  in 
which  Mak'sherbes  infected  him  with  that  enthusiasm  of  discovery 
which  sent  him  across  the  ocean  in  search  of  a  northwest  I'a^sage. 


1 1 2  Chateaubriand.  [January, 

and  Madame  dc  Stacl's  favourite  appellation,  "My  dear  Francis," 
brin^  each  individual  directly  before  us.  Byron  was  a  school-boy 
at  Harrow  when  Chateaubriand,  the  impoverished  exile,  caught 
sight  of  his  curly  head  as  he  wandered  by  the  seminary  in  his  per- 
egrinations round  London  ;  and  Dc  Tocqueville,  the  able  expositor 
of  our  own  institutions,  he  knew  as  the  intelligent  child  of  a  friend 
at  Avhose  country-house  he  visited.  Compare  the  hunting  party  of 
Louis  XIV.,  which  he  attended  as  a  young  noble  of  the  realm,  with  the 
morning  call  upon  AVashington  at  Philadelphia,  and  wc  have  the  last 
glimmer  of  feudal  royalty  in  the  old  world  with  the  first  dawn  of 
republican  simplicity  in  the  new. 

The  business-like  manner  in  which  his  marriage  was  conti'acted.  is 
in  violent  contrast  with  the  romantic  earnestness  of  his  reminiscen- 
ces of  sentiment;  and  his  veneration  for  the  ties  of  family  and  rank, 
strongcly  combined  with  a  zest  for  the  primitive  in  human  nature. 
The  instinct  of  glory  led  him  to  cherish  enthusiasm  for  greatness, 
that  of  blood  for  races,  and  that  of  poetry  for  the  original,  the  fresh, 
and  the  intrepid.  Hence  he  sympathized  with  genius,  of  whatever 
clime — with  exiled  princes  and  Indian  chiefs ;  and  while  wisdom, 
tendernes.?,  and  valour  so  attached  him  that  he  dwells  almost  pas- 
sionately upon  those  eras  marked  by  satisfactory  intercourse  with 
others,  ever  and  anon  misfortune,  pride,  and  a  sense  of  the  unat- 
tained  draw  him  back  to  self  and  the  glow  of  companionship, 
and  love  fades  into  the  "pale  cast  of  thought."  He  sm-vived  the 
most  renowned  of  his  contemporaries  and  the  most  endeared  of  his 
friends.  Yet  few  men  have  been  more  sincerely  loved  than  Cha- 
teaubriand, and  few  have  mingled  intimately  with  the  intellectual 
leaders  of  any  epoch  and  won  a  greater  share  of  admiration  with 
less  compromise  of  self-respect ;  for  he  Avas  quite  as  remarkable 
for  the  independence  of  his  character  as  for  the  strength  of  his 
attachments. 

One  of  his  most  pleasing  traits  was  an  ardent  love  of  nature. 
To  gratify  this  on  a  broad  scale,  he  cheerfully  undertook  long  and 
liazardous  voyages,  and  delighted  to  expose  liis  whole  being  to 
the  influence  .of  earth,  sea,  and  firmament,  with  tlie  alandon  of 
the  poet  and  the  observant  spirit  of  the  philosopher.  His  sen- 
sibility in  this  regard  is  evident  in  the  force  and  beauty  of  his 
impressions.  His  mind  caught  and  reproduced  the  inspiration  of 
the  universe,  and  his  affections  linked  themselves  readily  with  ob- 
jects hallowed  by  association.  Thus  he  speaks  of  Madame  de 
Beaumont's  cypress,  the  poplar  beside  his  window  in  the  rue  de 
Mirouscl,  the  niglitingales  at  the  restaurant  he  frequented,  and 
the  doves  whose  brooding  note  accompanied  studies,  with  a  degree 


Ig53.]  Chateaubriand.  113 

of  feeling  rarely  coexistent  -with  such  rude  experience  of  the  world. 
"  Je  inc  scntais^^  he  says,  "vivre  et  vegetcr  avec  la  nature  dans 
una  cspccc  de  pantheisme.''  He  possessed  the  genuine  instinct 
of  travel,  and  tlie  migratory  impulse  of  birds.  It  is  remarkable 
that  a  disposition  like  this — characteristic  of  the  naturalist  and 
j^^et — should  be  so  developed  in  a  man  whose  name  is  iden- 
tiiied  with  a  long  political  career.  The  conventionalities  of  life, 
however,  and  "  tracasseries  politiqiws^'  were  ungenial  to  him.  lie  de- 
scribes the  two  sides  of  his  character  very  justly  when  he  says : — 
"Dans  V existence  intericure  et  theorique,  je  suis  Vliovime  de 
(oils  Ics  songes  ;  dans  V existence  exterieure  et  pratique  Vhomrnc 
dcs  realites.  Aventureux  et  ordonne,  passionne  et  viethodiqw:f' 
Jle  was  indeed  a  poetical  cosmopolite — one  of  the  most  perfect 
examples  of  that  style  of  character  known  to  modern  times.  In 
his  candid  self-revelations,  the  primeval  instincts  of  the  natural, 
and  tiie  complex  relations  of  the  civilized  human  being  arc  suc- 
ce.-Jsively  brought  into  view;  for  the  rapture  with  which  he  first 
gi'ccts  the  virgin  forest  of  the  new  world  is  soon  followed  by  an 
instant  resolution  to  join  the  army  of  his  king,  of  whose  flight 
he  was  informed  by  an  old  newspaper,  accidentally  picked  up  in 
the  cabin  of  a  backwoodsman ;  and  if,  as  we  accompany  his  mus- 
ing steps  along  the  banks  of  the  Jordan,  it  seems  as  if  one  of  the 
heroes  of  Tasso's  epic  had  revived  in  the  person  of  a  French  pal- 
adin, the  associations  of  a  later  and  less  chivalric  era  are  soon  ex- 
cited by  the  proccs  verbal  that  condemned  his  brother  to  the  guil- 
lotine;— printed  in  another  page  of  his  memoirs  as  a  sad  but  au- 
thentic link  in  his  family  history.  Listen  to  him  as  he  thinks 
aloud  in  the  Colosseum  at  moonKght,  and  you  would  infer  that  he 
was  a  bard  unallied  to  the  realities  of  the  present — a  dreamer 
whose  life  was  in  the  past ;  but  the  idea  is  dispelled,  almost  when 
conceived,  b}--  an  enthusiastic  description  that  succeeds  of  one  of 
those  Parisian  reunions  or  political  climaxes  in  which  he  took  so 
active  a  share. 

His  reminiscences  of  travel  have  a  sweetness  and  vitality,  like 
the  dexterously-preserved  flowers  of  an  herbal,  as  if  he  transmit- 
ted us  the  very  hues  and  sensations  of  the  regions  he  traversed 
with  so  keen  a  sympathy — the  marine  odour  and  crumbling  archi- 
tecture of  Venice,  the  religious  atmosphere  of  Rome,  the  fresh  ver- 
dure an.l  exuberant  nature  of  the  western  hemisphere,  the  Petrarch- 
an diarnis  of  Southern  France,  the  Moorish  tints  of  Spain,  the 
J=uh^^tnntial  glory  of  England,  the  grandeur  of  mountains  relieved 
against  the  transparent  and  frosty  air  of  S^vitzerland,  the  extremes 
of  metropolitan  and  the  simple  graces  of  rural  life —  these,  and 


114  Chateaubriand.  [January, 

all  other  sensitive  and  moral  experiences  of  the  traveller,  Chateau- 
briand, as  it  -were,  imbibed  as  the  aliment  of  his  mind  and  re- 
produced as  memorials  of  his  life.  Like  Byron,  he  became  part 
of  Mhat  he  loved ;  and  the  intensity  of  his  own  consciousness  ren- 
dered nature,  art,  and  society,  or  rather  their  traits  and  essential 
spirit,  his  own.  In  the  abori^i^inal  wigwam  and  the  xVrabian  tent ; 
at  Memphis,  Carthage,  and  Jerusalem;  at  Golgotha  and  Hemp- 
stead, Granada  and  Kome ;  at  the  banquet  of  the  monarch,  on  the 
sick-bed  of  the  hospital,  in  the  prison  and  the  boudoir — when 
dragged  triumphantly  in  his  carriage  by  the  applauding  law- stu- 
dents from  the  Bibliotheque  Genevieve  to  his  domicile,  and  when 
left,  propped  against  a  wall,  a  wounded  fugitive  in  Germany — he  rose 
above  the  material  and  the  temporary,  caught  the  true  significance, 
bravely  met  the  exigency,  and  felt  the  ideal  as  well  as  the  human 
interest  of  the  scene  and  occasion. 

It  is  this  spirit  of  humanity,  this  poetical  tone  of  mind, — the 
lofty  thought,  the  genuine  feeling,  in  short,  with  which  he  encoun- 
tered vicissitude  and  contemplated  beauty,  and  not  the  mere  out-  ' 
ward  facts  of  his  career,  that  gives  a  permanent  and  ineffable  charm 
to  his  name.  A  halo  of  sentiment  encircles  his  brow,  not  less  ev- 
ident when  bowed  in  advei'sity  than  when  crowned  with  honoun 
He  demonstrates  the  truth  of  the  brave  old  poet's  creed,  that  the 
mind  of  a  man  is  his  true  kingdom.  His  self-respect  never  fal- 
ters amid  the  most  discouraging  circumstances ;  he  redeems  mis- 
fortune of  its  worst  anguish  b}^  the  strength  of  his  love  or  his  re- 
ligion. The  scope  of  his  view  wins  him  from  the  limited  and 
the  personal ;  the  ardour  of  his  emotions  compensates  for  the  cold- 
ness of  fortune ;  he  is  ever  aware  of  the  vast  privilege  of  the  ra- 
tional being  to  look  before  and  after;  memories  either  glorious  or 
tender,  and  visions  of  faith  shed  a  consoUng  light  both  upon  the 
clouds  of  outward  sorrow  and  inward  melancholy;  always  a  poet, 
a  philosopher,  a  lover,  and  a  Christian,  Chateaubriand  the  man  is 
"nobler  than  his  mood,"  however  sad,  bafHed,  or  absorbed  it  may 
be.  Thi.s  dignity,  this  sense  of  the  lofty,  the  comprehensive,  and 
the  beautiful,  seldom  deserts  him.  It  gives  tone,  elevation,  spirit 
and  interest  to  each  phase  of  his  life,  and  makes  its  record  poetic 
and  suggestive. 

The  political^  career  of  Chateaubriand  has  been  the  subject  of  that 
diversity  of  opinion  which  seems  inevitably  to  attend  this  portion 
of  all  ilhistrious  lives.  A  rigid,  narrow  course  in  regard  to  party, 
it  would  be  irrational  to  expect  and  illiberal  to  desire  in  a  man  of 
such  broad  insight  and  generous  instincts.  His  imaginative  tendency 
and  chivalric  tone  also  unfitted  him  to  be  either  consistently  sub- 


1853.]  Chateauhriand.  115 

gervient  to  a  dogma  or  invariably  true  to  a  faction.  The  nobility 
and  sentiment  of  the  man,  however,  shed  their  light  upon  the  politi- 
cian. The  character  and  spirit  of  his  statesmanship,  though  at 
times  too  ideal  in  theory,  were  individual,  and  often  indicative  of  the 
highest  moral  courage.  Ho  broke  away  from  the  life  of  a  court,  in 
hi:^  youth,  with  the  intrepidity  of  the  most  zealous  republican; 
when  Mirabeau  clnpped  him  fondly  on  the  shoulder,  he  thought  his 
hand  the  claw  of  k^atan ;  and  while  he  sought,  in  voluntary  exile,  im- 
munity from  the  horrors  of  the  Revolution,  he'VN-as  loyal  to  his  order 
when  the  time  came  to  resist  the  fanaticism  of  the  Jacobins — fought 
in  its  ranks  and  shared  the  privations  of  emigration.  It  has  been 
vrell  said  that  he  was  "  a  monarchist  from  conviction,  a  Eourbonist 
from  honour,  and  a  republican  by  nature;"  and,  incompatible  as  such 
principles  may  seem  with  each  other,  he  suffered  and  toiled  in  be- 
iuilf  of  all  of  them.  He  solicited  a  mission  of  discovery  at  the  age 
of  twenty  to  escape  from  the  imgenial  social  and  political  atmos- 
phere of  ]^'rance,  as  well  as  to  gratify  an  adventurous  taste.  He 
deJicatcd  his  great  work  to  the  First  Consul,  and  accepted  from  him 
tlie  embassy  to  Rome,  with  a  sincere  faith  in  his  patriotism ;  and 
bravely  dared  his  anger,  by  instantly  resigning  another  office  the 
moment  he  heard  of  the  Duke  d'Enghien.s  execution.  It  was  his 
boast,  that  only  after  the  "  success  of  his  ideas  "  was  he  dismissed 
from  the  political  arena.  In  1830  he  stood  alone  among  the  peers, 
and  urged  them  to  protest  in  favour  of  the  banished  king;  and  yet,. 
for  the  sake  of  tranquillity,  acceded  to  the  request  of  his  opponents 
not  to  utter  his  intended  speech  against  the  new  government.  He 
also  declined  their  offer  of  a  portfolio,  saying :  "  I  only  demand  hberty 
of  conscience,  and  the  right  to  go  and  die  wherever  I  can  find  free- 
dom and  repose."  Thus,  while  Chateaubriand  filled  entirely  to 
please  both  parties,  he  was  yet  eminentl}'' true  to  himself,  and  won 
respect  from  each,  lie  declared  of  Bonaparte  :  "  //  etait  aniine  con- 
trc  vioi  cle  toute  sa  forfuitiirc,  comme  je  Vctais  contre  lui  de  tonte 
Via  loyautcr  The  episode  of  the  Rreton  against  the  Corsican  is 
one  of  the  most  characteristic  in  the  history  of  both.  It  is  con- 
ceded that  he  always  sacrificed  personal  interest  to  his  idea  of  pub- 
lic good ;  and  if  he  sent  a  French  army  to  crush  liberty  in  Spain, 
he  has,  theoretically  at  least,  vindicated  his  motives.  His  constant 
purpose  was  to  give  the  people  a  system  of  graduated  monarchy,  in 
which  he  firmly  believed  their  true  welfare  to  consist,  and,  at  the 
same  time,  to  reassert  the  dignity  of  France.  He  was  the  invariable 
and  eloquent  advocate  of  the  liberty  of  the  press  and  of  religion. 
The  most  inveterate  advocates  of  reform,  if  endowed  with  just 
moral  perception  and  even  an  inklin'^  of  chivalric  sentiment,  cun 


116  Chateaubriand.  [January, 

hardly  fail  to  respect  the  devotion  of  Chateaubriand  to  that  sys- 
tem -which,  despite  its  inhuman  abuses,  lends  the  highest  dignity 
and  value  to  the  past.  He  clung  with  the  almost  absolute  loyalty 
of  the  middle  ages  to  those  persons  and  usages  amid  -which  he 
■was  bora,  and  in  fidelity  to  -which  he  thought  consisted  his  hon- 
our. He  sacrificed  -wealth,  home,  safety — everything  but  charac- 
ter— to  principles  outgrown  by  the  world,  but  endeared  to  faith. 
Some  one  has  said  that  independence  is  the  essential  test  of  a  gen- 
tleman ;  Chateaubriand,  thus  judged,  was  not  only  a  gentleman  in 
the  absolute  sense  of  the  term,  but  a  knight  according  to  the  orig- 
inal standard.  Loyalty  was  in  him  an  immutable  instinct,  and 
one  that  redeems  all  the  apparent  perversities  of  opinion  traceable 
in  his  career  as  a  man  of  the  State.  He  has  been  said  to  be  the 
legitimate  inheritor  of  that  eclectic  political  feeling,  attached  at 
once  to  both  past  and  future,  to  the  people  and  the  throne,  of 
which  Lafayette  was  the  exemplar.  From  1814  to  182.5  he  con- 
tended for  the  past;  from  then  until  1830  he  Avas  the  advocate  of 
progress,  and  thenceforward  strove  to  reconcile  the  interests  of 
both: — such  is  the  enlightened  view  taken  by  the  liberal  critic. 
During  the  Hundred  Da3's  he  was  one  of  the  king's  counsellors 
at  Ghent.  The  anti-regicide  doctrine  of  his  first  speech  to  the 
Institute  forever  disunited  him  from  Napoleon,  and  he  retired  from 
public  life  on  the  accession  of  Louis  Philippe.  Depri\^d  of  a 
lucrative  editorship,  exiled,  his  property  forfeited,  he  again  and 
again  evidenced  his  superiority  to  corruption,  and  sought  refuge  in 
nature  and  letters  from  the  vicissitudes  of  public  life.  Ambassa- 
dor at  Berlin,  Rome,  and  London — minister,  soldier,  and  journalist 
— in  the  congress  of  nations,  tlie  cabinet,  and  the  popular  assem- 
bly— however  visionary,  impulsive,  and  pertinacious,  Chateaubri- 
and nobly  vindicated  his  title  to  the  name  of  patriot.  A  citizen 
of  the  world  b}'  virtue  of  enlarged  sympathies  and  intelligence,  he 
was  always  a  Frenchman  at  heart,  and  one  of  that  school,  now  al- 
most wholly  traditional,  about  which  lingers  the  venerable  charm 
of  a  loyal,  brave,  courteous,  and  gallant  race — touched,  however,  in 
him,  to  fairer  issues  by  an  innate  love  of  the  grand,  a  natural  ideal- 
ity and  depth  of  feeling  partly  inherited  and  somewhat  owing  to  his 
Breton  origin  and  remarkable  experience.  In  a  word,  he  was  both 
a  poet  and  a  true  scion  of  the  old  French  aristocracy,  which  seems 
to  have  expired  when  the  hearse  containing  liis  remains,  followed  by 
a  single  carriage,  in  which  were  his  executor  and  valet,  reached  the 
shores  of  Brittany  one  summer  day  in  1840,  and  a  veiled  woman 
in  deep  mourning  drew  near  and  laid  a  bunch  of  flowers  on  the  cof- 
fin, saying  tearfully:  "  This  is  all.  I  have  to  offer." 


]ti>'3.1  Chateaubriand.  117 

Tlie  authorship,  like  the  existence  of  Chateaubriand,  was  chival- 
ric,  adventurous,  and  cflective — usually  originating  in  some  want  or 
impulse  of  the  time,  derived  from  his  own  experience  or  aimed  at  a 
positive  and  practical  result :  the  man  of  action  and  of  the  age,  the 
improvisator  of  the  occasion,  marks  his  labours  in  the  field  of  letters. 
Thus,  his  lirst  essay  as  a  writer  on  a  large  scale  was  the  Treatise  on 
Kcvolutions,  written  in  exileand  for  bread,  and  serving  as  a  kind  of  in- 
itiative discipline  to  Avorks  of  more  instant  and  universal  effect;  yet 
even  this,  the  most  abstract  and  least  spontaneous  of  his  works, 
chiefly  historical  in  its  plan,  being  written  at  the  epoch  of  the  French 
Kevolution,  in  which  the  author  and  his  family  so  deeply  suffered, 
had  a  vital  and  immediate  significance.  The  subject  thus  chosen  in- 
dicates his  dominant  taste  for  philosophy,  history,  and  politics;  in 
its  execution,  also,  is  evident  his  love  of  bringing  ancient  parallels 
to  bear  on  contemporary  events ;  the  broad  survey  of  governments 
it  includes,  shows  his  comprehensive  scope  of  mind,  the  instinctive 
grandeur  of  his  conception ;  while  some  of  the  portraits  and  scenes 
betray  that  felicity  of  description  which  characterized  his  subsequent 
writings.  However  respectable  as  a  literary  undertaking,  the  Essais 
sur  les  Revolutions  was  rather  a  prophetic  than  realized  test  of  his 
mission  as  a  writer.  The  Genie  du  Chriatianisme  is  one  of  those 
works  that,  by  meeting  the  conscious  needs  of  an  age  and  people,  lift 
the  author  at  once  to  the  rank  of  public  benefactor.  "When  Europe 
recoiled  from  the  barren  and  bitter  fruits  of  anarchy  and  atheism, 
and  humanit}'-  became  conscious  of  her  desolation,  "  without  God  in 
the  world,"  this  reassertion  of  the  religious  sentiment,  of  the  incal- 
culable benefits  Christianity  had  bestowed  upon  the  world,  of  its 
infinite  superiorit}'  to  all  previous  systems,  of  its  accordance  with 
nature  and  the  heart  of  man,  of  its  sacred  relation  to  domestic  life 
and  to  the  human  passions,  seemed  an  echo  of  the  latent  hopes  and 
recollections  of  every  bereaved  and  aspiring  soul  amid  the  wrecks 
of  social  and  civil  life.  With  singular  eloquence,  Chateaubriand  re- 
summoned the  saints,  the  angels,  the  myths,  the  ceremonial,  and  the 
sajictions  of  the  Christian  religion  from  the  eclipse  they  had  undor- 
Rone.  He  compared,  as  only  a  scholar,  a  philosopher,  a  poet  can 
do,  llcll  with  Tartarus,  Heaven  with  Elysium ;  Homer,  Yirgil,  and 
Tlieocritus,  with  Dante,  i^Iilton,  and  Tasso;  the  Sibyls  and  the 
Evangelists,  the  Bible  and  the  Iliad.  He  recounted  the  tri- 
umiihs  of  Christian  art,  and  described  how  the  Kcw  Testament 
changed  the  genius  of  the  painter:  sans  hii,  rien  oter  de  sa  sid>- 
litnitr,  il  hii  dnnne  plus  dc  tendresse.  He  revealed  its  architectural 
Pigns  — tlie  dome  and  spire:  "Ics  yeux  du  voi/cgctir  vuninnt 
iCaburd  satlachcr  sur  ccttejllchc  reUgieusc  dont  Vuspccl  rcrciice 


118  ChateaubHand.  [January, 

une  foule  de  sentiments  et  de  souvenirs ;  c'est  la  pi/ramidc  fimebre 
autouy  de  la  quelle  dormcnt  les  aieiix ;  c'est  la  monument  de  joie 
oil  Vairain  sacra  annonce  le  vie  da  Jidele ;  c^est  Id  que  Vcpoux 
s'unisant ;  c'est  la  que  les  clirctiens  se  prosterent  art  pied  des  autels, 
le  foible  pour  pricr  le  Dieu  deforce,  le  coupable  pour  implorer  le 
Dicu  de- misericord e,  Vimiocent  pour  chanter  le  Dieu  de  bontc!" 
He  pictures  to  the  imuj^ination  the  tangible  evidences  of  his  holy 
faith — Raphael's  3IaJonnas  and  the  Hotel  Dieu,  the  Festival,  the 
Cemetery,  the  Sisters  of  Charity,  the  Knight,  the  Missionary,  the 
eloquence  of  Massillon,  Bossuet,  Pascal,  and  lYnelon.  Thus,  gath- 
ering up  the  trophies  and  opening  the  vistas  of  Christianity  once 
more  before  the  despairing  eyes  of  multitudes,  Chateaubriand  was 
hailed  b}'  tearful  praises.  "  Imagine."  says  one  of  his  critics,  ''  a 
vase  of  myn-h  overturned  on  the  steps  of  a  bloodstained  altar." 
To  us  and  to-day,  the  significance  of  his  -work  is  greatly  modified 
and  abated.  In  the  light  of  a  more  advanced  civilization  and  a 
race  of  no  less  eloquent  and  deeper  expositors,  we  look  upon  it, 
with  Lamartine,  rather  as  a  reliquary  than  as  a  creative  work:  it' 
is  a  panoramic  view  of  the  history  of  Christianity — a  poem  cele- 
brating its  dogmas  and  monuments,  and  "superstition's  rod"  seems 
to  hang  over  the  inspired  defender  of  the  Church.  None  the  less 
beautiful,  however,  are  many  of  its  appeals  to  the  past  and  to 
the  human  heart — none  the  les.s  remarkable  its  success.  He  tells 
us  it  was  undertaken  not  only  from  devout,  but  filial  sentiment ; 
Ills  conversion  having  been  induced  by  his  mother's  death  and 
grief  for  his  scepticism.  Over  the  book,  therefore,  hangs  an  atmos- 
phere of  poetical  and  adventurous  interest  v,-hich  lends  it  perma- 
nent attraction. 

The  Etudes  Historiques  were  commenced  and  finished,  as  the 
author  says,  with  a  restoration  ;  and  he  adds  :  "  Le  plus  long  et  le 
dernier  travail  de  7na  vie,  cclui  qui  in  a  coutc  la  plus  de  recherches, 
de  soins  et  d'cmnccs,  cclui  ofi  fai  peut-ctrc  remuc  le  plus  d'idces  et 
de  faits,  paroit  lorsqn'il  ne  prut  trouvcr  de  Icctcurs."  This  want 
of  comparative  success  is  easily  accounted  for  by  the  absence  of 
personal  motive  and  interest  in  this  elaborate,  instructive,  some- 
times eloquent  and  characteristic  work.  The  Tliniruirc,Voi/oge  en 
Amrrique,  and,  in  fact,  all  his  books  of  travel,  while  they  contain 
charming  passages,  are  now  more  interesting  as  links  in  his  ca- 
reer than  for  their  facts  and  descriptions — there  having  been  no 
department  of  recent  literature  more  affluent  in  graces  of  style  and- 
attraction  of  details  than  that  of  voyages  and  travels.  In  the  East 
and  our  own  countn',  ho  is,  therefore,  in  a  great  measure,  super- 
seded by  later  and  standard  writers.     His  literary  and  political  mis- 


JS53.]  Chateaubriand.  119 

cclliinies  are  often  rich  in  thouglit  and  imagery ;  the  opinions  they 
embrace  are,  however,  frequently  inconsistent ;  but  there  is  a  harmony 
of  tone,  a  vigour  of  argument,  a  keen  critical  appreciation,  and  a 
gift  of  expression  which  indicate  genius  amid  much  that  is  desul- 
tory, extravagant  and  incomplete.  The  prejudices  of  the  Roman 
Catholic,  and  the  ignorance  of  the  foreigner,  sometimes  rude!}'  clash 
with  the  beautiful  style  of  the  rhetorician  and  the  lofty  sentiment  of 
the  bard.  Amid  the  voluminous  disquisition,  the  journals  of  travel, 
and  the  polemics  of  Chateaubriand,  gems  of  nan-ative — episodes 
,and  illustrations  in  a  truly  poetic  vein,  of  his  arguments  and 
descriptions,  have  served  to  wing  his  name  abroad  and  cause  it  to 
nestle  in  many  hearts:  these  are  Atala,  Reve,  and  Les  Aventurcs 
(III  Dernier  Abencerragc,  romantic  in  conception  and  most  grace- 
fulh'  executed — prose  poems,  in  short,  and  the  flowers  of  his  mind, 
terse,  beautiful,  and  embalmed  in  sentiment.  In  contrast  with  these 
is  the  most  vigorous  and  the  least  charitable  of  his  political  essays, 
"Bonaparte  and  the  Bourbons,"  which  Lamartine  well  describes 
as  "  the  bitter  speech  of  the  public  executioner  of  humanity  and 
liberty,  written  by  the  hand  of  the  Furies  against  the  great  cul- 
prit of  the  age."  , 

The  passionate  invective  of  this  famous  pamphlet  would  strike 
the  reader  differently  could  he  imagine  it  addressed  to  the  French 
people  before  the  star  of  the  conqueror  began  to  wane;  but  it  is  as- 
sociated with  the  image  of  xsapoleon,  not  in  the  hour  of  his  triumph, 
but  as  he  sits  at  Fontainebleau,  brooding  in  dishevelled  garments  and 
with  despair  on  his  brow  over  the  defection  of  his  household  and 
the  pitiless  demands  of  the  allies.  ... 

Wide,  indeed,  is  the  range  of  Chateaubriand's  literary  talent  and 
achievement,  and  versatile  as  his  fortunes  :  in  politics  singularly  l;)old, 
almost  ferocious ;  in  history  suggestive  and  ingenious ;  and  in  per- 
sonal revelations  often  pathetic,  picturesque,  and  sometimes  vain, 
yet  ever  graphic.  He  knew  the  fever  of  mind  incident  to  poetical 
conception — the  long,  patient  vigil  of  the  scholar,  and  the  serene,  con- 
templative mood  of  the  philosopher.  He  experienced  climaxes 
both  of  emotion  and  opinion,  and  vented  both  on  paper.  And  with 
all  the  assiduity,  the  invention  and  the  glow  of  these  compositions, 
he  had  also  the  melo-dramatic,  tlic  exaggerated,  and  the  artificial 
taste  of  a  Frenchman ;  he  loved  effect — he  was  carried  away  by  the 
dcrtire  of  glory,  tenacious  of  individuality,  and  happy  in  a  kind  of 
wayward  yet  noble  self-assertion.  Such  a  writer  is  naturally  open 
to  critical  assault  and  fitted  to  e.xcite  admiration  in  equal  dogi-ees. 
Accordingly,  his  incongruities  as  a  champion  of  religion  liave  been 
ofu-n  designalc-d  by  writers  of  more  chastened  taste  :  the  hardihood 


120  Chateaubriand.  [January, 

and  inconsistencies  of  his  partisan  articles  justly  condemned,  and 
the  effects  of  a  too  sensitive  mind  easily  detected.  As  an  instance 
of  his  -want  of  spontaneous  expression,  and  the  habitude  of  well-con- 
sidered language,  Lamartine  relates,  in  his  History  of  the  Restoration, 
that  when  sent  as  a  deputy  to  the  Emperor  Alexander  to  plead  the 
Bourbon  cause,  Chateaubriand  was  silent  because  he  could  not  on 
the  spur  of  the  moment,  as  he  afterwards  declared,  find  language 
appropriate  to  the  majesty  of  the  occasion,  lie  recpiired  time  to 
utter  himself  in  writing ;  and  therefore,  on  this  memorable  occasion, 
allowed  a  younger  and  far  less  gifted  member  of  the  deputation  to 
speak  for  him. 

His  stj'le,  too,  has  been  censured  for  its  ^ravdiose  tendency,  and 
his  authorship  made  the  object  of  extreme  laudation  and  scorn. 
What  almost  invariably  claims  our  admiration,  however,  is  the  gal- 
lant and  the  comprehensive,  the  poetical  and  the  sympathetic  spirit  in 
which  he  has  written.  Somewhat  of  the  extravagance  of  his  nation 
is  indeed  conspicuous ;  but  we  are  impelled  to  view  it  leniently  on 
account  of  the  grace  and  bravery  with  which  it  is  usually  combined. 
He  opened  glorious  vistas,  and  let  fall  seeds  of  eternal  truth.  The 
sound  of  the  sea,  the  setting  of  the  sun,  the  roaring  of  the  wind  amid 
the  pines,  the  fall  of  the  leaf,  the  associations  of  home  and  country, 
the  solemnit}'  of  ruins,  the  griefs  of  humanity,  the  vicissitudes  of 
life,  the  sanctions  of  religion,  tendcrnc.-s,  heroism,  reverence,  faith. 
— all,  in  short,  that  liallows  and  sublimates  this  brief  existence  and 
sheds  a  mystic  glory  over  the  path  of  eniiiires,  the  scene  of  nature,  and 
the  lot  of  man,  found  eloqiient  recognition  from  his  pen ;  and  for 
such  ministrations  we  give  him  love  and  honour,  without  losing  sight 
of  the  vagueness,  the  prejudice,  the  artificiality  and  the  exaggeration 
which  occasionally  mar  such  exuberant  development.  In  him  the 
conscious  and  personal  sometimes  dwarfs  the  essentially  noble ;  but 
a  kind  of  grandeur  of  feeling  and  thought  often  lifts  him  above  the 
temporary.  He  cherished  faith  in  his  race :  "  Si  lliomvie,''  he  says, 
"est  ingrat,  Vhnmanitc  est  rcconnaissante."  "The  masters  of 
thought,"  he  declares,  '"open  horizons,  invent  words,  have  heirs  and 
lineages."  For  a  Gallic  nature,  his  appreciation  of  ^Milton,  Dante, 
Tasso — of  the  serious  phase  of  greatness — was  remarkable,  although 
some  of  his  criticisms  of  English  literature  excite  a  smile.  In  his 
influence  as  a  man  of  letters,  for  iialf  a  century  he  was  the  success- 
ful antagonist  of  Voltaire  and  his  school.  Often  he  gave  impetus 
and  embodiment  to  public  opinion;  and  if  his  portraits  are  some- 
times fanciful  and  his  judgnients  poetic,  his  literary  achievements, 
on  the  whole,  had  a  rare  character  of  adventure  and  beauty,  and  the 
altern;ition3  fiom  severe  reasoning  to  imaguiative  glow,  arc  such  as 


1853.]  Chateaubriand.  121 

indicate  a  marvellous  corabination  of  intellectual  poTrcr.  For  the 
complete  revised  edition  of  his  works,  lie  received  five  hundred  and 
fifty  thousand  francs ;  and  perhaps  no  modern  author  boasts  more 
remarkable  trophies — such  a  blending  of  tinsel  and  truth — of  the 
iiicon^:;ruous  but  efficient  politician  with  the  ardent,  sensitive,  heroic 
poet— iucomjilete  and  desultor}^  in  certain  respects,  fresh,  coura- 
geous, true,  eloquent  and  original  in  others;  imprudent,  but  royal : 
"  worth  an  army  to  the  Bourbons,"  yet  enamoured  of  American 
solitudes ;  as  a  journalist,  said  to  unite  "  la  hauteur  de  Bnssuct.  ct 
laprvfondeitrde  Montesquieu;  advising  literary  aspirants  of  his  race 
and  tongue  not  to  try  verse,  and  if  they  have  the  poetical  instinct  to 
eschew  politics ;  carrying  the  war  into  ^Napoleon's  retreating  do- 
minion, and.  at  the  same  time,  hailed  as  the  dove  of  the  Deluge, 
whose  mission  it  was  to  renew  the  faith  of  the  heart,  and  infuse 
the  impoverished  veins  of  the  social  body  with  generous  sentiment." 
Knough  of  fame  and  of  weakness  wc  may,  indeed,  find  in  all  this 
to  crown  a  writer  with  admiration  and  pity.  If  his  genius  wa? 
somewhat  too  studied,  it  lent  dignity  to  his  times  and  country :  if 
his  youth  was  shackled  by  the  pedantic  coterie  that  have  ruled  French 
letters,  his  maturity'  redeemed,  by  the  inelependent  advocacy  of  truth 
and  nature,  the  casual  vassalage;  if  he  once  over-estimated  Ossian, 
he  never  lost  sight  of  the  need  of  clear  expression,  and  repudiated, 
when  engaged  on  practical  subjects,  the  vague  conceptions  he  admired.. 
Chateaubriand's  genius  thus  responded  to  national  subjects,  and 
was  modified  by  iiational  imperfections — in  his  poetical  sentiment 
reminding  us  of  St.  Pierre,  Rousseau,  and  Lamartine;  while  man}' 
passages  in  the  iMartyrs,  Natchez,  the  magazines,  letters,  romances, 
in  the  answei-s  to  his  critics  and  historical  essays,  challenge  rec- 
ognition for  the  philosopher ;  and  yet,  ever  and  anon,  the  manner  in 
which  he  dwells  upon  his  achievements,  and  the  consideration  he  de- 
mands both  from  the  reader  and  governments  for  his  persecutions 
and  his  fiime,  cause  us  somewhat  painfully  to  realize  the  weakness 
of  the  man.  In  this  anti-Saxon  and  thoroughly  Gallic  egotism,  sen- 
Bitiveness,  vanity,  or  by  whatever  name  we  designate  a  qual- 
ity so  obvious  and  characteristic,  Chateaubriand  Avas  a  genuine 
Frenchman.  He  describes  this  trait  of  his  nation  justly  when  ac- 
counting for  the  fruitfulness  of  its  literature  in  memoirs  and  the 
comparative  dearth  of  history  : — "  I.e  Fraiicoh  a  etc  tons  les  temps, 
vicrnc  lursqu'il  ctoit  harharc,  vain,  Icger  et  sociable.  II  rcp'diit 
pen  sur  r ensemble  des  objets  ;  viais  il  observe  curicuscment  les  de- 
tails, et  son  coup  d'cnil  est  prompt,  siir  et  delie ;  il  faut  loujours 
qu'tl  soil  en  scene.  II  aime  a  dire;  felois  la,  le  rot  me  dit ;  J'ap- 
pu  da  prince,'''  etc. 

FouuTii  Seiuks,  Vol.  Y. 8 


122  Chateaubriand.  [January, 

From  the  casual  frailties,  ho-\vever,  and  from  the  intrigues  of  the 
salon,  the  -warfare  of  party  and  the  reverses  of  fortune — from  all  that 
is  unvi"orthy  and  mutable  iix  this  remarkable  life,  "what  is  pure  and 
effective  in  genius  seems  to  rise  and  separate  itself  to  the  imagina- 
tion, and  we  behold  the  true  spirit  of  the  man  embodied  and  em- 
balmed in  the  disinterested  results  of  his  thought  and  the  spontane- 
ous utterance  of  his  sentiment :  and  therefore  it  is  as  a  poet  of  the 
old  regime  that  ^-e  finally  regard  Chateaubriand. 

It  has  been  acutely  said  that  external  life  is  an  appendix  to  the 
heart,  and  these  MeTnoira  d' outre  Toinhe  signally  evidence  the  truth. 
Dated,  as  they  are,  at  long  intervals  of  time  and  in  many  different 
places,  the  immediate  circumstances  under  Avhich  they  are  ^vritten 
are  often  brought  into  vie^v  simultaneously  with  a  vivid  retrospect, 
to  which  they  form  a  singular  contrast ;  and  this  gives  an  air  of  re- 
ality to  the  wliole  such  as  is  afforded  by  oral  communication — we 
frequently  seem  to  listen  instead  of  reading.  Chateaubriand  first 
■thought  of  composing  the  work  where  Gibbon  conceived  the  idea  of 
hiis  great  enterprise  :  in  that  haunt  of  eternal  memories — Rome.  It 
•was  commenced  in  his  rural  seclusion  at  La  Vallee  aux  Loups,  near 
Aulnay,  in  the  autumn  of  LSI  1,  and  finally  revised  at  Paris  in  1841. 
The  intermediate  period  is  strictly  chronicled,  and  interspersed  with 
•details  of  the  antecedent  and  the  passing  moment,  together  with 
•countless  portraits,  criticisms  and  scenes,  both  analytical  and  de- 
scriptive ;  but  the  deep  vein  of  sentiment  v.hich  prompts  the  author's 
movements  and  arrays  his  cxj)ericnce  and  thoughts,  continually  re- 
mind us  that  the  life  depicted  is  but  the  appendix  to  the  heart  that 
inspires.  Thus  his  intimacy  with  Malesherbes,  whose  granddaughter 
his  elder  brother  married,  fostered  that  passion  for  exploration 
which  made  him  a  traveller  ;  his  repugnance  to  priestly  shackles  in- 
duced him  to  enrol  his  name  in  the  regiment  of  Kavarre  ;  his  ad- 
herence to  his  party  made  him  a  translator  and  master  of  languages 
in  England  ;  his  fraternal  love  redeemed  his  boyhood  from  misan- 
thropic despair,  and  his  religious  and  poetic  sentiment  impelled  him 
to  the  East.  This  oriental  tendency — if  we  may  so  call  it— is  evi- 
■dent.  as  he  suggests,  in  the  whole  race  of  modern  genius,  and  seems 
to  spring  both  from  delicate  organization,  giving  a  peculiar  charm  to 
the  atmosphere  and  life  of  that  region,  and  from  historical  associa- 
tions that  win  the  imagination  and  the  sympathies — romantically 
evident  in  Byron,  and  religiously  in  Chateaubriand  and  Ijamartine. 
The  former,  despite  the  battles,  conclaves  and  literary  affairs  that 
make  up  the  substance  of  his  memoirs,  never  loses  his  identity 
•with  sentiment,  wlicther  luxuriating  in  the  scenery  of  the  Grand 
Chartcuse,  invoking  the  departed  at  llolyrood  or  Ycnicc,  setting  out 


1803.]  On  the  Relation  of  Intelligence  to  Piety.  123 

the  trees  of  every  land  he  has  visited  on  his  domain ;  breaking  away 
from  his  J-'nLdiah  home  Avith  the  exclamation,  "Jc  suis  mari  /"  or 
recordin;^  his  last  interview  with  his  sister  Lucille  and  her  obscure 
burial ;  claiming  his  chair  at  Corinne's  fireside,  or  discovering  au- 
guries in  the  fierce  tempest  that  broke  over  St.  Malo  the  night  he 
wa.s  born.  The  most  utilitarian  reader  must  confess,  as  he  connects 
the  practical  efficiency  and  noble  traits  of  Chateaubriand  with  his 
generous  emotions,  that  sentiment  is  a  grand  conservative  and  pro- 
ductive element  in  human  life,  and  to  its  inciting  and  elevated  influ- 
ence justly  ascribe  the  usefulness,  the  renown,  and  the  singular  in- 
terest that  attaches  to  the  man  ho  may  have  seen  a  few  years 
since  threading  the  Boulevards  of  Paris  with  "  irreproachable  cravat 
and  ebony  cane ;"  recognising  in  his  gentle  yet  vigorous  expression, 
in  his  broad  forehead  and  projecting  temples,  the  tliick  white  hair 
around  his  bald  crown,  the  inclination  of  the  head,  the  long  face  and 
observant  yet  noble  air,  the  outward  indications  of  his  varied  expe- 
rience, rare  gifts,  and  unique  character. 


Akt.  viiL— on  the  relation  of  intelligence  to  the 

PIETY  AND  EFFICIENCY  OF  THE  CHURCH. 

•Iksus  gave,  not  to  the  twelve  alone,  as  they  went  forth  on  their  first 
commission,  but  to  the  Church  in  every  age,  that  expressive  Avaniing: 
"Be  ye  therefore  wise  as  serpents  and  harmless  as  doves."  It  fore- 
told that,  to  the  perfection  of  her  character  and  the  full  success  of 
her  mission,  the  Church  would  require  not  only  the  purity  of  the 
one,  but  the  wisdom  of  the  other;  that  neither  piety  nor  intelligence 
is  separately  sufficient,  and  only  Avhen  combined  in  their  highest 
excellence  are  they  equal  to  the  task.  By  intelligence  we  mean, 
not  a  proficiency  in  any  one  branch  of  science,  but  that  general  cul- 
tivation of  intellect  which  results  in  wide  knowledge  and  compre- 
hensive views.  We  know  that  "  the  world  by  wisdom  knew  not  God ;"' 
but  it  was  a  wurld  without  God,  a  reason  witliout  revelation,  a  dem- 
onstration without  axioms  .spiritually  discerned.  When  God  im- 
parts the  element  required,  and  the  world  becomes  his  Church.  A^/" 
wisdom  is  not  foolishness.  Sometimes,  indeed,  it  has  seemed  as 
tljough  piety  alone  was  power,  and  wisdom  was  utter  weakness  :  but 
we  cnsider  that  intellectual  excellence  is  often  seen  apart  from 
moral  imrity,  and  piety  is  never  alone,  for  the  common  experiei;ce 
of  lite  gives  every  man  a  measure  of  mental  training  and  pnu'ri''al 
wisdom.     There  is  an  analogy  in  the  arrangement  of  the  compound 


124  On  the  Relation  of  Intelligence  to  [Januars', 

blo^Y-pipc.  The  jjMurc  hyJro^ren  of  piety  may  draw,  from  an  ordinary 
atmosphere,  support  for  a  flame  of  liigh  intensity;  but  only  -when 
fully  penetrated  by  the  oxygen  of  a  sound  intelligence,  is  its  power 
perfected  and  irresistible. 

The  relation  of  intelligence  to  the  spirituality  of  the  Church,  is  a 
subject  entirely  distinct  from  its  relation  to  her  efficiency  in  a'^ores- 
sive  movements.  It  is  of  itself  a  question  which  should  not  be  un- 
determined in  any  mind,  whether  mental  culture  can  aflect  relifrious 
experience,  either  for  good  or  for  evil.  A  priori,  indeed,  it  would 
seem  strange  if,  in  the  crowning  work  of  creation,  there  was  no  ob- 
servance of  that  law  by  which  the  perfection  of  each  part  requires 
the  perfection  of  the  whole,  and  if  the  cultivation  of  the  mental  and 
of  the  moral  faculties  should  prove  incompatible  in  the  image  of  Him 
in  Avhom  the  same  attributes  coC-xist  and  cooperate  in  infinite  per- 
fection. If  beyond  the  grave  we  hope  for  the  completeness  of  wis- 
dom as  of  love,  how  natural  that,  even  now.  these  faculties  should 
strengthen  in  each  other's  strength.  Every  voice  of  pi'ophecy,  and 
all  signs  of  the  times,  foretoken. that,  in  the  millennial  age,  "knowl- 
edge shall  be  increased,"  and  those  favoured  generations  be  at  once 
the  most  spiritual  and  the  most  intellectual  the  world  has  ever  seen. 
And  especially,  the  well-known  quickening  of  the  mental  powers  at- 
tendant on  spiritual  renovation  seems  like  an  electric  summons  from 
the  awakened  soul  to  the  faculties  ^vhose  activity  is  essential  to  its 
life.  Yet  against  all  this  pre5un"i])tive  evidence,  we  meet  the  wide 
impression  that  intolJigence  is  cither  negative,  or  injurious  in  its  in- 
fluence on  personal  piet3^ 

This  impression  may  have  arisen  in  part  from  the  fact  that 
formerly,  even  more  than  at  present,  the  costliness  of  education 
confined  the  privileges  of  mental  culture  to  the  very  class  whose  po- 
sition and  Avealth  involved  all  those  seductions  which  make  it  hard 
to  eiiter  into  the  kiugdum  of  heaven.  That  a  larger  proportion  of 
the  poor  of  this  world  than  of  its  aflluent  have  become  rich  in  faith, 
we  all  may  see;  but  that  this  has  resulted  not  from  intelligence 
but  from  the  position,  appears  in  the  more  gross  and  absorbinf' 
worldliness  of  the  uncultivated  fiimily  of  wealth,  com])ared  with  those 
in  which  intelligence  exerts  its  elevating  and  moralizing  power.  In 
any  given  rank  of  society,  a  larger  ])roportion  of  the  intelligent  will 
be  found  to  have  embraced  the  gospel  than  of  the  uneducated,  and 
their  piety  will  prove,  on  the  average,  more  uniform.  It  is  this  false 
alliance  of  wealth  with  intelligence  Avhich  has  brought  upon  the  lat- 
ter the  suspicion  which  the  Saviour  attached  to  the  former  alone; 
yet  in  the  modified  social  life  of  our  own  country,  and  in  ])roportion 
as  the  ancient  foil}'  and  expense  cease  to  be  exclusive  forms  into 


1S53.]  the  Piety  mid  Efficiency  of  the  Church.  125 

whicli  a  life  of  afllucnce  is  compelled  to  flo^v,  instances  of  deep  piety 
in  connexion  •with  wealth,  as  ^\ell  as  intelligence,  are  becoming  more 
common. 

It  is  important  also  to  observe  that  the  mass  of  the  Church-mem- 
bership, being  of  the  poorer  classes,  have  always  been  prone  to  judge 
the  wealthy  by  a  false  standard.  The  danger  of  all  outward  indulgen- 
ces is,  that  they  foster  a  pride  of  possession,  and  absorb  and  materi- 
alize the  soul.  Yet,  it  is  difiGcult  to  form  a  general  rule  of  judgment 
uj)on  others  which  shall  be  secure.  The  toiling  poor,  in  whom  a 
ver}''  slight  attempt  towards  the  elegancies  of  life  may  betray  a  de- 
parture from,  sober  frugality  or  a  folse  ambition,  and  whose  unculti- 
vated minds  feel  no  congeniality  in  the  refinements  which  stand  out 
barely  as  the  insignia  of  wealth  and  rank,  cannot  appreciate  the 
feelings  of  those  to  -whom  the  beauties  of  art  have  been  as  familiar 
froni  childhood  as  the  wild-flower  to  the  cottager,  and  with  wdiom 
the  elegancies  of  life  arc  the  unlaboured  expression  of  a  natural 
refinement.  The  ruder  classes  deem  all  an  evidence  of  sin  which 
would  betray  it  in  themselves,  and  equipage  and  forms  and  accom- 
plishments are  but  the  etiquette  of  pride.  They  either  bluntly  deny 
the  existence  of  piety  in  such  connexions,  or  recei^•e  in  confusion  the 
occasional  evidences  of  true  spirituality  which  beam  out  irresistibl}'. 
Moreover,  there  is  another  gi-ound  of  misconstruction  in  the  differ- 
ence of  expression  in  the  two  extremes  of  society.  The  character 
of  the  masses  is  pcculiarl}^  emotional,  and  the  expression  strong  and 
rough.  The  wdiole  influence  of  culture  and  of  polite  life,  is  to  bring 
the  sensibilities  into  check  by  the  intellect,  to  condense  emotion  into 
principle,  and  either  to  repress  its  utterance,  or  to  find  in  accuracy 
and  copiousness  of  language  a  full  conveyance  for  that  gush  of  soul 
which,  in  the  uncultivated,  seeks  expression  in  energy  of  tone,  and 
nianner,  and  illustration.  The  collected  thought,  the  guarded. sen- 
tence, the  delicate  reserve,  seem  tame  and  heartless  to  a  Christian 
struggling  with  unutterable  emotion. 

If,  then,  from  precisely  this  class  of  society,  a  Church  should  take 
its  rise,  and  if  the  majority  of  all  evangelical  Churches  have  thus 
arisen,  how  natural  is  it  that  this  individual  feeling  should  have  be- 
come the  collective  sentiment  of  the  Church  at'large,  that  a  false 
criticism  on  the  manifestations  of  ])iety  should  still  seek  to  bring 
everything  down  to  its  own  standard,  and  that,  even  while  the  Churcli 
is  bocoming  a  personal  refutation  of  the  error,  she  should  still  coa- 
fuund  form  with  substance,  and  wealth  with  intelligence. 

Jf  any  argimicnt  were  to  be  drawn  from  the  inimcrical  proportion 
of  the  Clnn-ch  to  the  world  in  the  ranks  of  the  learned,  we  should  not 
fear  the  comparison.     We  should  observe  first,  however,  thiit  the 


126  On  the  Relation  of  Intelligence  to  [Januaiy, 

Cburcli  has  of  necessity  withdrawn  the  largest  proportion  of  her  ge- 
nius and  erudition  from  direct  secular  learning,  into  the  offices  and 
studies  of  the  ministry,  and  consequently  the  comparison  must  not 
be  made  from  the  list  of  the  laity  alone.  For  centuries,  indeed,  al- 
most the  entire  learning  of  Christendom  was  concentrated  in  the  reg- 
ular or  the  secular  clergy,  and  to  them  is  due  our  gratitude  for  its 
preservation  and  tniusmission  to  modern  times.  If  the  force  of 
this  fact  is  to  he  neutralized  by  the  superstition  and  formality 
of  the  middle  ages,  we  may  yet  maintain  that  the  Protestant  Re- 
formation, as  being  anythhig  more  than  a  political  and  formal  revo- 
lution, was  due  to  the  labours  of  "  doctors  incomparable "  and 
innumerable  on  the  continent  and  in  Britain,  while  the  excuses  and 
perversions  which  most  disgraced  it  were  the  result  of  a  fanatical 
ignorance.  What  beautiful  examples  of  the  power  of  allied  learning 
and  piety  are  the  works  of  the  long  line  of  English  bishops  and 
non -conformist  divines,  the  body  of  whose  writings  is,  it  is  true,  a 
vast  and  solid  structure  of  theology,  but  from  fact  and  illustration, 
and  metaphor  and  allusion,  as  from  battlement  and  pinnacle  and 
spire  of  some  massive  cathedral,  is  reflected  the  light  of  every  orb 
of  science  in  antiquity  or  in  their  own  times.  Yet  time  would  fail 
us  to  speak  of  all  the  illustrious  sons  of  science  who  gloried  most  of 
all  that  they  might  "  know  Hini  and  the  power  of  Plis  resurrection." 
lie  whose  transcendent  mind  laid  the  deep  foundations  of  international 
law,  was  no  arrogant  defier  of  the  Jviiig  of  kings.*  He  who  was 
the  pioneer  of  modern  mental  jiliilosopli}','!"  was  also  the  strong  as- 
serter  of  the  reasonableness  of  Christianit}--  against  the  oppositions 
of  science,  falselj'  so  called.  The  soul  of  him  who  disclosed  to  all 
admiring  ages  the  laws  which  bind  all  globes  and  systems,!  was  no 
wandering  orb,  reckless  of  a  Sun  of  righteousness  and  the  gravitation 
of  boly  love.  And  he  §  whose  seraphic  muse,  seeking  inspiration 
from  the  Eternal  Spirit  alone,  could  soar 

"Above  tliL'  Olyiupiau  lull, 
Above  the  tiiglit  of  1Vl^isci\u  wing — " 

stands  he  not  now  on  high,  "  ?^/?blinded  by  the  excess  of  light?"  If, 
in  the  rapid  progress  of  physical  science  and  archroology,  scholars 
have  questioned  the  truth  of  revelation,  scholars  have  not  been  want- 
ing to  defend  them.  On  the  broad  heavens,  and  upon  tablets  buried, 
strata  upon  strata,  deep  in  the  chambers  of  the  earth,  God  has  gra- 
ven the  history  of  the  past  and  the  destinies  of  the  future.  God's 
hand  has  traced  the  sacred  record  in  his  oato  hieroglyphics.  The 
"  royal  priesthood"  alone,  with  the  key  of  an  inspired  volume,  can 

°  Grotius.  t  Locke.  |  Newton.  §  Milton- 


1S53.]  the  Piety  and  Efficiency  of  the  Church.  127 

lay  bare  the  lines  so  lonp;  concealed,  and  decipher  its  annals  for  the 
Church — patient,  if  perchance  a  broken  line  or  isolated  sentence 
perplex,  to  wait,  and  read  on,  until  all  is  clear.  The  profane  inter- 
pret and  perish  !  Through  every  field  of  science  and  literature,  the 
student  may  now  follow  those  Avho  are  no  blind  leaders  of  the  blmd. 
Even  fiction,  abused  to  mere  amusement  and  sensual  excitement. 
lias  been  made  to  illustrate  and  enforce  the  truths  of  Him  who 
"spake  many  things  unto  them  in  parables."  The  secret  of  the 
whole  is  simple.  Knowledge  is  power;  and  God,  who,  when  but 
little  knowledge  survived  the  wreck  of  antiquity,  took  care  to  con- 
centrate that  little  in  the  hands  of  his  Church,  has  not  now,  v.-hcn 
the  spirit  of  intellectual  inquiry  is  poured  out  upon  all  flesh,  left  her 
without  a  thorough  and  efficient  literature  for  her  defence  and  ally — 
a  literature  which,  from  its  abode  upon  what  has  been  deemed  the 
cold  and  barren  sunmiit  of  learning,  amid  all  the  mysteries  which 
gather  there,  threatening  lightning  and  earthquake  to  human  inter- 
ests, comes  down,  like  -Moses,  with  glory  beaming  from  its  counte- 
nance, and  the  law  of  God  graven  on  its  heart. 

To  the  conversion  of  a  soul,  we  acknowledge  with  joy  how  little 
of  mental  power  or  theoretical  knowledge  is  requisite  ;  but  that  self- 
surrender  and  reliance  on  the  atonement  will  suffice  for  daily  par- 
don and  continuous  regeneration.  We  admit  too  that  in  some  rare 
instances  an  unreasoning  devotion,  like  an  instinct,  fixes  its  eye  on 
the  main  truths  of  the  gospel,  and  goes  rapidly  forward,  unterrified 
and  unseduccd  from  its  path.  We  refer  not  to  these  conditions  of 
justification,  nor  to  these  few  instances,  nor  to  that  divine  dispensa- 
tion, Avhich  one  must  have  remarked,  giving,  in  accordance  with  no 
law  aj)j>arent  to  us,  a  larger  measure  of  grace,  or  a  more  powerful 
impulse  heavenward,  to  some  converts  than  to  others  equally  justi- 
fied. Jjut  we  speak  of  the  process  and  laws  by  which  the  spiritual 
character  is  matured  in  classes,  and  memberships,  and  communities. 
^\  ould  it  be  hazardous  to  say  of  a  3'oung  convert,  taken  at  random, 
that,  with  his  given  amount  of  piety,  his  progress  will  probably  be 
as  his  vicrcs  ?  How  easily  can  we  refer  to  some  treasured  author. 
whoso  calm  pages  gave  definiteness  and  enlargement  to  our  ideas  of 
the  Christian  scheme,  or  to  a  conversation  -with  a  friend  who  saw 
the  error  of  our  thoughts,  and  whose  quiet  reasoning  removed  it, 
and  a  new  spiritual  life  burst  in  upon  us.  "Who  would  not  judge  that. 
with  a  given  amount  of  piety,  a  preacher  s  power  to  build  up  the 
Cliuroh  into  holiness,  would  be  in  proportion  to  his  comprehension 
of  the  gospel  plan  in  all  its  relations,  and  his  discrimination  of  every 
shade  of  duty  or  of  sin  Avhich  so  perplexes?  There  is  a  power 
gained  in  the  closet,  and  a  power  communicated  to  the  fellow-wor- 


128  On  the  Relation  of  Intelligence  to  [January, 

shipper  as  we  wrestle  in  social  prayer ;  but  distinct  from  this  in- 
crease of  sensibility  to  heavenly  tliing;s,  is  that  enlargement  of  the 
spiritual  horizon  which  gives  more  sky  to  shine  in  upon  the  soul. 
The  fact  is,  that  with  a  Christian  of  sincere  heart,  the  battle  is  not 
so  much  with  sin  as  with  error — not  so  much  with  the  affections,  as 
with  the  ignorance  Avhicli  clouds  the  mind.  He  is  perpetually  suffer- 
ing from  mistakes  and  devices  of  Satan,  against  which  he  might 
have  been  forewarned.    To  him  spiritual  wisdom  is  spiritual  strength. 

"The  prayer  of  Ajax  ■nas  for  light. 
Through  all  that  long  and  dangerous  fight, 
The  darkness  of  that  noonday  night, 
He  asked  but  the  return  of  sight. 
To  see  his  foeman's  face." 

The  experience  of  the  individual  Christian  is  like  that  of  the  col- 
lective Church  in  the  past.  He  begins  hy  Judaizing  or  Platonizing. 
He  leans  to  Avorks  without  faith,  or  hiith  without  works.  His  ex- 
clusive thoughts  banish  from  the  Trinit}-  the  Father,  or  the  Son,  or 
the  Holy  Ghost,  by  concentration  upon  one  alone.  He  becomes  a 
Pelagian  in  his  own  strength,  or  too  passive  an  Augustinian  in  de- 
pendence upon  grace.  He  tends  to  rationalism,  in  his  views  of 
Scripture  ordinances  and  precepts,  or  to  traditionalism  in  supersti- 
tious reverence  for  human  dictates  and  forms.  The  impeded  prog- 
ress, the  successive  reactions,  the  one-sided  developmeiit,  so  clearly 
marked  in  each  stage  of  advancement  by  tiie  Cluirch,  are  reproduced 
in  the  individual  member.  Eut  if  the  Church  has  thus  marked  out 
the  true  channel  of  faith  and  practice,  albpit  by  continued  re- 
bounding from  the  rocks  on  either  side,  is  it  not  for  our  learning? 
Our  whole  system  of  instruction  assumes  that  these  theoretical  and 
practical  errors  may  be  avoided,  and  a  Christian  press  forward  in 
the  right  way,  without  bruising  himself  into  it  by  contact  with 
successive  errors.  Think  of  a  sincere  soul  serving  God  amid  the 
mummeries  of  Romanism,  and  imagine  the  light  and  power  which 
a  few  words  of  exposition  would  pour  in  upon  it.  Think  how,  even 
among  the  evangelical  denominations  of  our  own  land,  you  can  mark 
the  theory  giving  a  peculiar  tone  to  the  erpial  piety  of  each  section, 
and  in  proportion  as  their  views  are  more  or  less  comprehensive  in 
regard  to  one  class  of  truths  or  another,  they  are  successful  in 
gathering  in  ti-ue  converts,  or  building  them  up  into  a  living  faith. 
Consider  how  far  a  few  generations,  mentally  capable  of  ajiprehcnd- 
ing  clear  instruction  and  favoured  with  superior  teachers,  might 
prepare  the  way  for  that  day,  Avhen,  trained  to  a  clear  vision  of 
heavenly  truths,  and  with  little  in  example  to  mislead,  the  child  in 


1853.]  the  Piety  and  Efficiency  of  the  Church.  129 

Christ  shall  die  a  hundred  years  old  in  spiritual  life.  With  such 
lessons  from  the  past  and  the  present,  is  it  wrong  to  aver,  that  ^vhilc 
the  conditions  of  justification  are  simple,  and  -while  some  anomalies 
in  Fpiritual  growth  do  occur,  yet,  as  a  prevailing  rule,  the  maturity 
of  a  Christian  Church  under  a  pious  ministry  will  be  in  proportion 
to  the  clear  exhibition  and  comprehension  of  intellectual  views  'i  Is 
it  too  much  to  say  that  we  require  that  breadth  and  grasp  of  thought 
which  proceeds  only  from  mental  culture? 

Moreover,  in  personal  experience  everything  depends  upon  a  true 
conception  of  our  position  at  the  moment  of  danger,  and  the  prompt 
recurrence  of  tlie  corresponding  truths.  It  is  easy  for  a  bystander 
to  remember  such  ideas  and  repeat  such  truths  as  are  pertinent ;  but 
it  is  difficult  to  give  caution,  or  administer  rebuke,  or  bring  solace 
to  ourselves,  just  when  we  need  them  most.  Kowthe  characteristic 
of  the  uncultivated  is  a  natural  want  of  this  collectedness  and  self- 
inspection,  and  too  often  the  thoughts  which  should  have  shielded 
against  temptation  come  only  in  time  for  condemnation.  A  friend 
at  such  an  hour  is  invaluable.  But  it  is  peculiarly  the  privilege  of 
the  cultivated  mind  to  be  such  a  comisellor  unto  itself,  to  anticipate 
the  shock,  to  lay  hold  upon  the  lever  which  "  backs  "  the  moral  ma- 
chinery of  the  soul,  and  stems  the  too  hurried  current  by  an  internal 
force.  So  do  we  believe  it  will  appear  that,  other  things  being 
equal,  a  sound  intelligence  is  not  only  most  capable  of  receiving 
comprehensive  views,  but  is  more  competent  to  apply  them  oppor- 
tunely in  the  exigencies  of  life. 

II.  The  relation  of  intelligence  to  the  efficiency  of  the  Church  in 
her  cooperation  with  the  world. 

The  papal  dogma  that  the  Church  is  supreme  over  all  temporal 
states  and  legislation,  however  false  and  rejected,  in  reference  to 
any  organic  Church,  is  both  true  and  admitted  of  the  spiritual  body 
of  Clu'ist.  The  form  has  fallen  off,  but  the  principle  survives  in 
new  and  recognised  authority.  Secular  councils  appeal  to  the  con- 
science of  the  Church  with  a  care  and  deference  never  yielded  to 
Rome,  and  it  is  nothing  that  the  appeal  is  often  unwilling  or  hypo- 
critical. The  leaven  is  penetrating  the  institutions  and  sentiments 
of  the  world,  preparatory  to  that  last  process  of  spiritual  chemistry 
in  which  the  whole  is  to  be  leavened.  Every  recognition  of  a  true  prin- 
ciple in  legislation,  and  every  real  amelioration  in  social  life,  is  re- 
moving obstacles  from  the  path  of  the  gospel.  There  is  evidently 
a,  certain  mould  of  life  and  sentiment,  which  the  spiritual  activity 
of  a  renewed  world  would  create,  and  into  which  it  would  grow  up 
and  develop,  as  the  tree  within  its  bark.  If  a  false  form  is  aj. plied 
from  without,  like  an  iron  bark,  it  will  feel  the  compression,  and 


130  On  the  Relation  of  Intelligence  to  [January, 

yield  an  imperfect  and  mi -^^  1:1  metrical  development.  But  in  pro- 
portion as  this  outward  form  is  perfect,  corresponding  to  the  natural 
form,  or  yielding  to  the  swelling  growth,  -will  the  advance  be  natural 
and  easy.  Just  in  proportion  as  the  political  and  social  organization 
of  the  world,  its  practical  views  and  moral  sentiments  take  the  same 
form  which  they  would  have  if  religion  was  the  sole  power  moulding 
thought  and  action,  or  in  proportion  as  they  yield  unresistingly  to 
her  plastic  power,  she  will  find  a  rapid  and  beautiful  expansion. 
JNo  man  can  have  a  perfect  Christian  character,  not  only  "while  he 
neglects  known  duty,  but  so  long  as  false  education,  or  confused 
ideas,  permit  the  presence  of  spiritual  or  temporal  evil,  without  his 
consciousness  of  its  incongruity,  his  expression  of  his  sensibility,  or 
his  energetic  action.  The  Church  will  never  have  a  perfect  charac- 
ter so  long  as  hereditary  wrongs  against  God  and  man,  ti-aditional 
errors  in  morals  and  sentiments,  benumb  her  sensibilities,  or  form 
a  check  to  her  speaking  out  and  acting  out  the  fulness  of  the  gospel. 
How  gradually  have  the  true  principles  of  civil  liberty  and  the  evil 
of  slavery,  the  spirit  of  the  temperance  cause,  and  of  all  social  ame- 
liorations, been  eliminated  in  the  action  and  reaction  of  the  Church 
and  the  State !  How  much  more  healthy  do  we  deem  the  spiritual 
tone  of  the  American  Church,  that  corrupting  and  repressing  influ- 
ences of  other  national  laws  and  habits  are  removed!  Those  who 
control  tlie  legislation  and  social  reforms  of  the  day  should  let  the 
moral  result,  as  well  as  the  moral  principle,  of  legislation  be  not 
only  an  unconscious  attainment,  but  the  far-seen  and  calculated 
issue  of  prayerful  wisdom.  Yet  what  a  wide  range  of  information, 
what  power  and  habit  of  comprehensive  thought,  is  thus  made  re- 
quisite.    Surely  the  Church  needs  the  wisdom  of  the  serpent. 

Inspired  by  the  example  of  the  Church  in  the  person  of  some 
of  her  noblest  sons  and  daughters,  irreligious  men  are  devoting 
themselves  with  enthusiasjn  to  the  work  of  moral  and  social  reform. 
But  the  awakened  spirit,  confining  itself  to  mere  temporal  ameliora- 
tions, shows  rather  an  aversion  to  be  identified  Tvith  the  Church, 
either  in  principles  or  enterprise.  It  may  be  philanthrop}^,  but  it 
•will  not  bo  godliness.  It  goes  forth  through  the  Church  as  through 
the  world,  like  an  Iconoclast  of  old,  and  is  not  over-anxious  if  it 
break  an  arch  in  smiting  an  idol.  The  Chm-ch  may  meet  it  either 
by  blank  denunciations,  or,  by  showing  a  more  excellent  way,  may 
retard  the  too-hurried  movement  by  simple  inertia,  as  a  mere 
"brake"  upon  the  car  of  progress;  or  she  may  lay  down  a  new 
track,  which  leads  more  securely  to  the  goal.  The  world  is  listen- 
ing, though  the  Church  be  deaf  and  dumb.  There  is  no  form  of 
infidelity  so  seductive  as  this  philanthropic  materialism.     Its  bene- 


1853.]  the  Piety  and  Efficiency  of  the  Church.  131 

fits  are  tangible  and  inspiring  to  men  who  have  no  conception  of  a 
spiritual  need,  and  there  is  a  grandeur  in  its  comprehensive  plans 
and  perfect  promises  which  fills  the  soul  -with  chivalrous  enthusi- 
asm. Forgetful  that  the  whole  lifetime  of  Jesus  was  a  preparation 
for  the  promise  of  the  Father,  and  a  parable  of  spiritual  things,  it 
exults  in  entire  assimilation  to  him  who  made  the  dumb  to  speak 
and  the  lame  to  walk,  and  healed  all  of  whatsoever  plagues  they 
had.  Even  if  the  Church  Avere  uninvaded,  yet  she  must  lose  her 
controlling  influence,  and  amid  such  masses  of  practical  scepticism 
lie  like  a  sunny  isle  chilled  by  surrounding  icebergs,  which  blight 
though  they  cannot  penetrate.  But  Avithin  the  Church  there  are 
hundreds  smitten  with  a  deep  sense  of  evils  long  endured,  j-et 
shrinking  from  the  leaders  most  conspicuous  in  reform,  and  waiting 
for  better  guidance.  They  must  have  it,  or  they  will  turn  from  the 
reiteration  of  pure  principles  unapplied  to  those  who  show  their 
faith  by  works.  They  must  not  only  see  what  is  wrong,  but  what  is 
right.  They  must  be  able  to  meet  sceptical  philanthropists  on  their 
own  ground.  They  must  not  only  be  told  that  without  the  per- 
vading, vitalizing  influences  of  religion,  this  "new- creation"  would 
be  a  world  without  an  atmosphere;  but  they  must  see  how  their 
labours  may  avail  beneath  the  hand  of  the  Creator,  and  so  in  patience 
seem  to  hear  it  said :  "  The  evening  and  the  morning  are  [but]  the 
fifth  day,"  and  wait  until,  in  his  own  time,  God  shall  pronounce  it 
very  good.  Again,  we  conclude,  how  wide  the  knowledge,  how  clear 
the  intelligence  the  Church  demands  I 

III.  The  relation  of  intelligence  to  the  eflSciency  of  the  Church 
in  aggressive  operations. 

]3oth  in  cooperation  with  the  world  and  in  distinct  enterprises, 
the  Protestant  Church  of  this  country  finds  weakness  as  well  as 
security  in  her  democratic  organization — democratic  so  far  as  regards 
practical  interests.  However  the  system  may  guard  against  small 
evils,  yet  it  seriously  impairs  for  the  time  being  the  power  of  ener- 
getic and  iar-seeing  action.  Like  the  republic,  the  Church  has 
thrown  off  the  supremacy  of  both  despotism  and  aristocracy,  and  re- 
solved all  poAver  and  responsibiUty  into  the  hands  of  the  individual ; 
but,  unlike  the  State,  has  retained  no  checks  against  the  results  of 
popular  ignorance  or  indifference.  The  mass  of  citizens  may  know 
very  little  about  political  economy  and  national  expediences ;  but  tliey 
nui>t  choose  delegates,  and  may  choose  Avise  men,  to  deliberate  f-r 
them,  and  their  counsels  are  laAvs  and  their  estimates  arc  taxes. 
)Jut  the  counsels  of  ,the  Church  on  practical  operations  are  purely 
advisory,  and  her  estimates  are  referred  to  each  member  for  ratifi- 
cation.    The  power  of  the  keys 'may  extort  gold  from  the  Komish 


132  On  the  Relation  of  Intelligence  to  [January 

commiinion,  and  the  religious  establishments  of  Europe  may  enforce 
exactions  by  civil  law,  and  disburse  their  funds  by  government  au- 
thority ;  but  our  Churches  have  neither  the  po-\ver  of  superstition 
nor  of  law.  'We  have  no  hierarchy  to  marshal  us  to  the  polls  when 
religious  interests  are  involved  in  legislation,  or  to  assess  with  au- 
thority, and  plan  and  execute  with  sccrec}'  and  encrg3^  We  do  not 
even  yield  to  the  la-\v  of  majorities,  or  admit  the  argument  of  general 
consent.  How  obvious  that  the  wisdom  and  knowledge  formerly 
requisite  in  a  leader  of  the  Church  militant  is  now  essential  to  insure 
the  cooperation  of  every  soldier  of  the  host.  Only  as  each  man 
sees,  and  feels,  and  wills  aright,  can  Church  operations  be  sustained 
and  far-seeing  and  systematic. 

A  similar  difficult}'-  attends  the  efforts  of  the  Church  against  the 
heresies  and  infidelity  of  the  age.  The  assertion  of  the  right  of 
private  judgment  three  centuries  ago,  involved  a  revolution  which 
has  scarcely  passed  its  crisis.  For  a  while,  the  spirit  which  spurned 
the  papal  anathema  yet  rested  on  the  decisions  of  universities  and 
the  balance  of  great  names.  The  Church  militant  set  her  cham- 
pions against  champions,  as  Israel  against  the  Philistines.  The 
result  was  for  the  time  decisive.  The  host  fled  or  pursued  accord- 
ingly. And  though  the  change  has  been  rapid,  not  yet  have 
men  lost  tbeir  reverence  for  authority  and  tra<litional  opinions.  It 
has  been  a  blessed  arrangement  of  God's  Avisdom  that  it  is  thus;  for 
while  no  danger  can  attend  the  exercise  of  priv;ite  judgment  on  all 
points,  provided  that,  in  the  same  proportion,  each  man  is  qualified 
to  sift  evidence  and  balance  argument,  yet,  should  they  awake  to 
full  assertion  of  the  right  before  thus  trained,  men  would  plunge 
into  inextricable  confusion  and  eiTor.  But  awe  of  antiquity  and 
official  assertions  is  rapidly  departing,  and  we  fear  especially  that 
those  who  rely  most  upon  the  power  of  the  pulpit  do  not  realize  the 
change  in  the  position  of  the  clergy.  Personal  esteem  for  their 
characters,  and  an  intelligent  respect  for  their  office,  are  perhaps 
increasing ;  but  the  authority  of  their  teaching  rests  only  on  their 
clearness  and  force  of  argument.  It  were  less  perplexing  if  the 
controversy  thus  confided  to  popular  hands  were  only  about  Scrip- 
ture doctrines,  to  be  detennined  by  proof-texts  and  popular  meta- 
physics ;  but,  in  addition  to  these,  we  are  involved  in  a  contest 
with  the  aiTogance  of  headlong  physical  science  and  a  plausible 
mental  philosopliy.  There  is  an  exhilaration  in  the  idea  of  detection 
and  renunciation  of  old  superstitions,  and  a  perversencss  of  depraved 
nature,  which  render  these  assaults  against  the  foundations  of  the 
Christian  religion  most  congenial.  If,  among  the  thousands  now- 
harping  upon  some  fragment  of  an  infidel  theory,  some  disjointed 


1S53.]  the  Piety  and  Efficiency  of  the  CJiurch.  133 

fact  or  assorted  contradiction,  there  "were  a  moiety  ^vho  could  under- 
stand the  whole  theory  or  rehitions  of  things  when  briefly  explained, 
they  might  soon  be  met.  The  accomplished  engineer  strikes  his 
flag  as  soon  as  you  take  his  outposts  and  command  his  citadel ;  but 
tiiese  controversial  militiamen  Avill  crouch  into  some  corner  of  a 
dilapidated  fortress,  and  fancy  themselves  secure.  Clearly  as  \sc 
sec  the  truth  that,  when  evidences  arc  conflicting,  men  arc  bound  to 
balance  probabilities  and  search  out  the  truth,  3-et  they  persuade 
thcmsflves  that  they  are  excused  from  any  action  by  their  momen- 
tary confusion,  and  therefore  perpetuate  it.  The  Church  memlier- 
ship  must  have  information  and  true  views  upon  these  topics,  or 
their  confidence  will  tremble,  and  their  moral  force  be  lost.  The 
vorld  must  feel  that  the  Church  knows  its  strength  of  position,  and 
can  prove  it,  fiot  only  on  stated  days  and  occasions,  but  in  the  fami- 
liar discussions  of  the  field  and  the  workshop.  Those  only  who 
have  been  thrown  into  personal  collision  with  the  arguments  of  every 
class  of  society,  can  estimate  the  fatal  influence  of  the  cloud  of  half- 
truths  and  "little  learning"  which  hangs  over  our  land,  and  hovers 
round  the  Church. 

It  is  an  axiom  in  mental  philosophy,  that  the  sensibilities  are  in- 
variably aroused  by  the  presence  of  appropriate  objects;  and  in 
proportion  to  their  healthful  susceptibility,  will  be  the  promptitude 
and  energy  of  the  response.  It  might  seem,  therefore,  that  the 
Church  needs  onl}-  an  increase  of  religious  sensibility  to  the  claims 
upon  her  benevolence;  but  it  is  also  true,  that  our  sensibilities  arc 
excited  only  in  proportion  to  the  distinctness  and  vividness  with 
vhich  the  object  is  presented.  There  is  need,  therefore,  of  a  clear 
conception  of  the  moral  and  spiritual  destitution  of  the  world  in  all 
its  appealing  reality.  God  has  not  designed  that  our  labours  in  his 
cause  should  be  merely  in  obedience  to  his  command,  but  that  they 
should  bo  the  spontaneous  expression  of  feeling  hearts ;  and  men 
are  never  moved  to  action  by  vague  generalizations  and  ghosts  of 
ideas,  but  by  facts,  and  statistics,  and  portrayals  of  the  misery  which 
awaits  their  s^-mpathies.  One  day  on  board  a  slaver,  or  in  a  drunk- 
ard's home,  would  be  worth  months  of  general  reflection  on  the  suf- 
ferings of  a  wife  forsaken,  or  the  horrors  of  the  middle-passage. 
The  returned  missionary  and  traveller  thrill  with  emotion  at  the 
mention  of  distant  misery,  which  are  beside  unimpassioncd.  ]S"ext 
to  the  power  of  witnessed  destitution,  or  the  remembrance  in  after 
years,  is  the  furce  of  minute  portrayals  of  locality  and  circumstances, 
and  the  whole  scene  of  wretchedness.  Without  this  abiding  cun- 
ception.  the  appeals  of  the  press  or  of  the  platform  may  awake  a 
momentary  sensibility,  but  can  leave  no  permanent  impression.     \\q 


134  On  the  Relation  of  Intelligence  to  [January, 

require,  therefore,  that  the  accurate  and  full  information  ^'hich  sus- 
tains the  zeal  and  animates  the  hopes  of  the  leaders  in  these  enter- 
prises, social  or  spiritual,  shall  be  imparted  to  the  entire  membership 
of  the  Church. 

Yet  even  a  realizing  sense  of  temporal  or  spiritual  destitution,  is 
not  all  the  Churcli  requires.  To  inevitable  calamity  -we  bow  in 
silence,  and  have  no  heart  to  attempt  benevolent  impossibilities. 
Evils  •which  the  race  is  indignant  to  have  borne  so  long,  Avere,  never- 
theless, felt  and  uttered  ages  since,  but  sternly  endured,  as  resulting 
from  the  very  constitution  of  things  and  the  -will  of  the  Creator. 
Even  when  prophecy  foretells  that  the  triumph  shall  be,  not  by 
human  skill  alone,  but  by  tlie  Spirit  of  God,  the  Church,  seeing  no 
divine  march  of  things,  into  which  it  may  throw  its  forces,  waits  in 
anguish  and  groans,  ''  How  long,  0  Lord,  how  long  !"•  The  thought 
of  the  seven  hundred  millions  who  have  been  swept  into  the  grave, 
while  the  last  thirty  years  of  missionary  labour  were  hardly  securing 
a  few  thousands,  ,  and  yet  another  generation  hunying  from  us, 
paral^'zes  the  rising  energy.  We  leave  action  for  prayer.  But 
let  the  Church  once  feel  that  she  is  labouring  in  the  order  of  that 
Providence  which  delights  to  prepare,  in  secrecy  and  slowness,  the 
sudden  wonders  of  his  power;  which,  when  the  set  time  is  come, 
can  concentrate  all  political  interests  and  ail  commercial  enterprises, 
all  of  earthl3'  as  well  as  of  spiritual  influence,  to  the  downfall  of  all 
empire  and  all  superstition  that  would  oppose  his  gospel,  and  her 
heart  will  grow  strong  in  expectation  of  Hira  that  will  come  and 
will  not  tarry.  Let  her  study  that  wisdom  in  Avhich  the  Jewish 
Church,  scattered,  and  peeled,  and  half-heathenized  among  the  na- 
tions for  weary  years,  -was  suddenly  made  the  medium  of  transition 
to  the  heart  of  heathenism  itself.  Mark  how  gradually  over  the 
Church,  in  those  dark  ages,  the  cloud  of  falsehood  and  superstition 
gathered,  until,  in  the  stifled  air,  all  life  seemed  sinking,  when  at 
once  the  thunder  burst  over  Germany,  and,  pealing  over  Switzerland 
and  France,  broke  against  the  Pyrenees  and  Apennines ;  rolling 
northward,  it  swept  over  Denmark  and  Sweden ;  and  reverberating 
through  England,  lingered  longest  among  the  Grampian  hills,  and 
gave  sunshine  and  the  pure  breath  of  life.  Show  how,  as  along  the 
borders  of  a  western  prairie,  one  may  kindle  fires  at  early  dawn 
which  in  the  dampness  seem  to  smoulder,  and  Avith  slow  progress 
spread  but  a  gradual  warmth  through  the  wide-spread  verdure;  so 
God  is  kindling,  along  the  shores  of  continents  and  around  the  isles, 
a  line  of  fires  which  may  smoulder  and  spread  slowly,  until  there 
comes  "  the  wind  that  bloweth  where  it  listeth,"  and  the  quickened 
flame  sweep  like  a  tide  of  glory  over  the  heathen  world.     If  the  faith 


1853,]  '    Short  Reviews  and  \(j' ices  of  Books.  135 

of  the  Church  be  -weak,  let  her  sight  be  clear.  She  will  not  -withhold 
licr  treasures  nor  her  noblest  blood,  ^Yhen  she  feels  that  "redemp- 
tion dra.weth  nigh."  With  all  the  piety  of  the  Church,  we  must 
have  comprehensive  views,  to  reason  upon  all  events  of  the  past,  and 
all  changes  of  the  present,  and  all  prospects  of  the  future.  How 
can  such  breadth  of  view,  such  e.xtent  of  information,  be  gained  but 
by  careful  and  diligent  study  ? 


Art.  IX.— short  REVIEWS  AND  NOTICES  OF  BOOKS. 

(1.)  Doha's  Classical  Llhranj,  if  pursued  as  energetically  as  it  has  btoii 
lierctotore,  will  soon  furnisli  Englisli  readers  -with  good  versions  of  all  that  is 
valtiublc  in  the  remains  of  classieal  antiquity.  Among  the  recent  issues  wo 
find  the  second  volume  of  "  Tlie  Coniedics  of  riavtits,  lUeralh/  translnhil  l-j 
II.  J.  lliley,"  completing  the  work.  Of  the  character  of  ]\Ir.  Riley's  translatir.?! 
we  spoke  in  our  notice  of  the  fii'st  volume.  The  fifth  volume  of  ''  The  Wori^ 
of  Plato  "  has  also  appeared ;  it  contains  "  The  Laws,"  ti-anslatcd  chielly  from 
Stallbaum's  text,  by  G.  Burgcs,  !M.  A.— the  fii-st  English  version  of  the  Laws 
made  directly  from  the  Greek.  This  volume  completes  the  genuine  works  uf 
riato;  the  next  will  give  the  writings  generally  atti-ibuted  to  him,  but  not 
proved  to  be  his.  Mr.  Bohu  has  given  an  inestimable  boon  to  English  readers 
in  this  cheap  and  accurate  version  of  the  iwet-philosoplier.  Mr.  Turnci'-! 
translation  of  "  T'fic  Odes  of  Pindar"  has  the  merit  of  fidelity,  though  he  hns 
not  tlic  facility  of  some  of  the  other  tramslators  employed  upon  the  scries. 
The  volume  has,  besides  the  prose  version,  Bergk's  Prefaces,  DIssen's  Intro- 
ductions, and  a  metrical  version  by  Abraham  ^looro.  One  of  the  best  executc<l 
bojks  of  the  series  Is  Mr.  Evans's  translation  of  "  The  Satires  of  Jno  nrj^ 
I'crsius,  Sulpicia,  and  Lucilius,"  (r2mo.,  pp.  512,)  which  Is  an  entirely  n.'W 
and  accurate  version.  The  remains  of  Sulpicia  and  Lucilius  appear  in  this 
volume  for  the  first  time  in  English.  We  have  also  received  "  Cicero's 
Orations,"  translated  by  C.  D.  Yonge,  vols.  li  and  Hi ;  and  "  Ovid,"  translated 
by  ^Ir,  Riley,  (vol.  Ill,)  containing  the  Heroidos,  and  the  minor  works.  In 
the  Scientific  Librarij  wc  have  Oicksted's  "  Soal  in  Xature,"  (r2mo.,  pp.  4r,:..) 
Rrefixcd  to  the  Avork  Is  a  very  interesting  sketcli  (by  the  tran.«lators)  of  tiio 
great  discoverer  of  Electro-magnetism.  "We  are  glad  to  see  a  reprint  of  tli'! 
Biidgewater  Treatises  announced  In  this  Library;  of  Avhich  the  fn-st  volume  is 
before  us  in  Dr.  Kidd's  essay  on  "  The  Adaptation  of  External  Xature  to  !''■• 
I'hi/'iir.d  Condition  of  Man,"  (12mn.,  2)p.  ,S32.)  A  new  series  has  just  been 
coinmeueed  by  IMr.  Bohn,  under  the  title  of"  Tiie  Philological  (Philosojihi.a!  ?) 
Library,"  of  which  the  first  volume  is  a  reprint  of  Johnson's  translation  "l" 
Tcnnctinnn's  '' ^fanual  of  the  History  of  Philosophi/,"  (r2mo.,  pp-  •>-^--) 
This  edition  has  been. thoroughly  revised  by  I\Ir.  J.  R.  Morel!,  who  has  add-d 
to  it  a  brief  sketch  of  the  current  philosophies  of  the  age. 


136  Sha/t  Reviews  and  Notices  of  Books.   '     [Jaiman% 

(2.)  "  The  Illustrated  London  Geography,  by  Joseph  Guy,  jun.,  (London, 
1852,  8 vo.,  pp.132.  New-York:  Baugs,  Brother  &  Co.,)  is  a  brief  com- 
pendium of  Geography,  well  expressed,  and  profusely  illustrated  witli  maps 
and  wood-cuts. 


(3.)  "  The  Israel  of  the  Alj):i,  tronslaled  from  the  French  of  Dr.  Alexis 
ilusTOX,"  (London,  18.'>2,  12mo.,  pp.  312.  Xew-York:  Bangs,  Brother  &  Co., 
IS  Park  Row,)  is  another  history  of  the  Waldenscs  and  of  their  persecutions, 
made  up  from  Dr.  Mustou's  work,  with  additions  from  Dr.  Gilly's  narrative. 
It  is  not  so  copious  a  record  as  that  of  jMonastier,  {History  of  the  Vaudois, 
published  by  Carlton  and  riiillips,  New- York ;)  but  every  account  of  these 
Alpine  martyrs  and  confessors  must  be  full  of  interest.  The  book  is  profusely 
illustrated  with  well-executed  wood-cuts. 


(4.)  "^/c>/er's  C/iiVcr.-!(/»?,"  (New- York  :  H.J.Meyer,  1G4  William-street,) 
continues  to  appear  with  punctuality.  Piirt  Y.  contains  views  of  the  Cathedral 
of  Notre-Damo,  Paris ;  of  Plato's  School ;  of  the  Hudson  near  Newburgh ; 
and  of  Calcutta.  The  engravings  in  Part  YJ.  are  a  lloman  Aqueduct  at 
Segovia  (Spain) ;  the  Valley  of  Chamouui  (Switzerland) ;  Civlta  Castellana 
(Italy) ;  Castle  and  Monastery  of  Illock  (Hungary).  Part  Wl.  contains 
views  of  the  bustling,  scmi-^lmericau  city  of  Bremen ;  of  the  Obelisk  of  Luxor, 
at  Paris ;  of  Saratoga  Lake ;  and  of  the  Cottage  of  Rousseau,  at  IMontmorency. 
Part  YIII.  contains  viev/s  of  Washington's  house  at  Mount  Yernon  ;  of  Erlangen, 
in  Bavaria;  of  a  storm  at  Cape  Horn;  and  of  the  Opera  House  in  Pam. 
Part  IX.  gives  beautiful  sketclics  of  •'  Tlie  Bosporus  from  the  Euxinus;"  The 
Desert-Rock  Light-House ;  Ti'heran ;  and  the  Giralda  in  Seville.  The  later 
parts  of  tliis  remarkably  cheap  journal  of  art  and  travel  are  even  better 
than  the  earlier. 


(5.)  We  have  received,  at  a  very  late  period,  the  Report  of  "  The  Methodist 
Church  Property  Ca.--e,  heard  before  Hon.  II.  H.  Leaviit,  in  the  Cirridt  Court  of 
the  United  States,  for  the  district  of  Ohio,  June  24-July  2, 1852,"  (Cincinnati: 
Swormstcdt  &  Poe,  1852,  Svo.,  pp.  155.)  It  was  intended  that  this  publication 
should  embrace  all  the  arguments  submitted  to  the  Court  on  both  sides,  and 
that  it  should  be  issued  with  the  sanction  of  both  the  parties  to  the  suit :  but, 
unfortunately,  two  of  the  counsel  for  the  plaintiffs,  ^Messrs.  Stanl)crry  and  Brion, 
failed  to  furnish  their  arguments.  The  work  includes,  then,  only  the  argiunents 
for  the  defence,  made  by  Messrs.  Riddle,  Lane,  and  Ewing,  with  the  decision 
of  Judge  Leavitt. 

The  pleadings  of  ^Messrs.  Riddle  and  Lane  are  brief,  l>ut  clear,  pointed, 
and  going  to  the  heart  of  tlie  question.  Mr.  Ewing's  argument  is  more 
elaborate,  and  is,  wc  hesitate  not  to  say,  one  of  the  most  logical  arguments 
ever  addressed  to  a  Coiut  in  this  country.  TliC  plaintills  arc  concluslvelv, 
and,  we  think,  forever,  refuted,  oa  the  main  pf)int   made   in  their  bill  and 


1853.]  Sho7-t  Reviews  and  Notices  of  Books.  137 

Rrjmments.     The  importance  of  the  case  is  well  stated  by  Mr.  E^^nng  in  hk 
introdtiction : — 

If  it  were  probable  that  the  opinion,  in  the  case  of  Bascom  vs.  Lane,  would  bf 
suffere'l.  except  by  ultimate  compulsion,  to  stand  as  the  law  which  "overns  and 
is  to  p-.u-.-rn,  the  organization  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Churehrit  inicrht  be 
•  well  l'»r  tlie  sake  of  peace,  and  the  ending  of  an  unliapp^-  legal  controversy,  to 
pire  to  that  opinion,  though  but  interlocutory  in  the  case,  the  full  v.'ei"-ht  of 
nufhoriry  duo  to  a  final  decision.  This,  however,  cannot  be  for  a  moment  ad- 
mitted or  supposed:  for  that  opinion  pronounces  the  destruction  of  the  MethodisT 
Kpiscopal  Church  as  an  organized  body;  and  declares,  that  what  is  called  the 
phia  of  compromise,  dissolved  it  into  its  original  elements.  It  takes  from  it  ?t 
once,  at  and  from  the  moment  that  plan  went  into  effect,  all  consideration  and 
recognition  in  a  Court  of  Equity,  and  declares  it  to  be  incapable  not  merely  of 
receiving  a  charitable  bequest  or  gift,  but  of  administerinc  a  charity.  So  utterly 
is  it  destroyed,  that  a  charity  which  grew  up  within  itself,  and  wh'ch  h:id  been 
from  its  first  foundation  administercl  by  it,  falls  for  want  of  an  administrator 
and  the  Court  feels  itself  called  upon  to  construct  a  scheme  for  its  administration* 
Ihe  beiieficianes  of  the  charity,  who  were  a  description  of  persons  in  the  bo«om 
of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  are  no  longer  to  be  found  there,  under  this 
opinion,  and  the  Court  of  Equity  feels  itself  constrained  to  seek  for  th"m  eW- 
■where.  and  administer  tlie  charity  Cy.  pres.  This  .lecision  affects  al.<o  tho  present 
condition  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church  ;  for  if  it  were  destroyed  it  knew  it 
not,  and  has  never  reorganized.  It  affects  its  future ;  for  if  secession  of  a  part 
of  Its  cortferences,  great  or  small,  without  controversy,  and  in  kindness  have 
dissolved,  and  must  hereafter  dissolve  it,  it  is  doomed,' in  the  natural  course  of 
events,  to  repeated  scenes  of  destruction  and  reorsanization,  or  hostile  strife— 
which  is  against  its  nature— with  its  seceding  sections.  This  is  so  contrary  io 
what  was  believed  to  be  the  law  regarding  organized  ecclesiastical  bodies— so 
contrary  to  what  was  believed  to  be  the  law  governing  this  Church,  so  far  u- 
the  municipal  law  reaches  and  touches  her  in  hor  orsanization— and  it  is  so 
ruinous  in  its  consequences,  that  it  cannot  be  submitted  to  and  reco'^r'i.sed  till 
Jt  is  pronounced  by  the  highest  judicial  tribunal  of  the  country.  Tht^  question 
of _ property  is  trifling  and  insignificant  when  viewed  in  connexion  with  the 
principle  which  is  now  involved.  A  decision,  therefore,  bv  this  Court,  in  accoixl- 
Jincc  with  that  in  Bascom  vs.  Lane,  would  not  aid,  but  rather  tend  to  retard  or 
prevent  an  early  adjustment  of  this  unhappy  controversy.— i'p.  00,  .JL 

Our  limits  will  not  allow  us  to  state  Mr.  Ewing's  argument  or  Judije  Leavitf? 
opinion  in  detail :  we  can  only  give  the  summing  up  of  the  latter,  as  foUows  :— 

As  the  result  of  the  views  I  have  attempted  to  present,  it  follows  :— 
ui'/f'''*'  '^"^  General  Conference  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church  is  a  de- 
epatcd  or  representative  body,  with  limited  constitutional  powers  r  and  possesses 
iio_^authonty,  directly  or  indirectly,  to  divide  the  Church. 

^u{J.  '"  the  adoption  of  the  "Plan  of  Separation"  in  ISii,  there  was  no 
Claim  to,  or  exercise  of,  such  a  power. 

-A  '^•'»at  as  the  General  Conference  is  prohibited  from  anv  application  of  the 
pro-luce  of  the  Book  Concern,  except  for  a  specified  purposo.  and  in  a  spccificJ 
manner;  and  as  the  annual  conferences  have  refused  to  remove  this  prohibition, 
i>  Changing  or  modifying  the  sixth  restrictive  rule,  the  General  Conference  has 
fur  by  said  iS'^^""''""  °''  '^^^^''*^  *^^  Concern  or  its  proiluce.  except  as  provided 

»-eJ'..fit'"!Jf  fi!'"^  ^""^  Concern  is  a  charity,  devoted  expressly  to  the  use  and 
Mcth..  l-st  r  •  ^'■^^'^'''"n.  supernumerary,  and  superannuated  preachers  of  the 
iu  an  or-  '•'"■■''J'!'';^'  Church,  their  wives,  widows,  and  children,  continuing  in  it 
witbdr  wTn^'" T  '-I'irch;  and  any  individual,  or  anv  number  of  individuals. 
hAv  r.  '  7  ,^'  ^^^'^  ceasing  to  be  members  of  the  Church,  as  an  or-aniicd 
f/Kiy    (■  ,.5,!  to  be  benen.-;"iri,.«  nf  ♦!.«  ^\...^t,- 


r^' Tr'r"-!'^^"  heneficiarios  of  the  charity 
I:    I  hat  It  n  th.;  un.lo..i,t^.i  >:..i.»  „f  -/. 


»*il  Church. 


•  undoubted  right  of  any  individual  preacher  or  nicmljcr  of 
or  any  number  of  preachers  or  members,  or  any  sectional  portions 


FoLKTH  Skrik.'!,  Vol.  V.— 9 


138  Sho7't  Reviews  and  Notices  of  Books.        [January, 

or  divisions  thei'eof,  to  "withdraw  from  it  at  pleasure;  but  in  withdrawing, 
they  take  with  them  none  of  the  rights  of  property  pertaining  to  them  while 
in  tlie  Church;  and  tliat  the  withdrawal  of  the  southern  and  south-western 
conferences  in  1845,  beinjr  voluntary,  and  not  induced  by  any  positive  necessity, 
is  within  the  principle  here  stated. 

6.  That  the  defendants,  as  trustees  or  agents  of  the  Book  Concern  at  Cincinnati, 
being  corporators  under  a  law  of  Ohio,  and  required,  by  such  law,  "  to  conduct 
the  business  of  the  Book  Concei'u  in  confoi'iuity  with  the  rules  and  j-egulations 
of  the  General  Conference,"  in  withholding  from  the  Church,  South,  any  part 
of  the  property  or  proceeds  of  said  Book  Concern,  have  been  guilty  of  no  breach 
of  tru.-it.  or  any  improper  use  or  application  of  the  property  or  funds  in  their 
keeping. 

7.  That  this  is  not  a  case  of  a  lapsed  charity,  justifying  a  Court  of  Equity  in 
constructing  a  new  sclienie  for  its  application  and  admLnistratiou  ;  and  that  the 
complainants,  and  those  they  represent,  have  no  such  personal  claim  to,  or 
interest  in,  the  property  and  funds  in  controversy  as  will  authorize  a  decree  in 
their  favour,  on  the  basis  of   individual  right. 

There  are  some  points  made  by  counsel,  which,  not  being  regai-ded  as  material 
in  the  decision  of  the  case,  have  not  been  specially  noticed. 

It  now  only  remains  for  me  to  say,  that  it  was  with  some  reluctance  and  self- 
distrust  that  I  entered  upon  the  investigation  of  this  controversy ;  and 
although  the  conclusions  to  which  I  have  arrived  have  been  satisuictory  to  my- 
self, I  experience  the  highest  gratification  from  the  retioction,  that  if  I  have  mis- 
conceived the  points  arising  in  the  case,  and  have  been  led  to  wrong  results,  my 
errors  will  be  corrected  by  tliat  high  tribunal,  to  wliieh  the  rights  of  these  parties 
will,  without  doubt,  be  submitted  for  linal  adjudication. — I'p.  lo-i,  155. 

At  a  fitting  time,  hereafter,  we  purpose  to  give  as  thorough  a  survey  of  this 
TvLole  unlortunate  case  as  may  be  within  our  power. 


(6.)  "  y/ie  Personal  Adventures  of  our  own  Corr-:q-ionderd  in  7)!a?^,  by  Michael 
Bur.KH  IIoxAX,"  (Xcw-York  :  Ilarper  &  Brothers,  12mo.,  pp.  -12S,)  is  a  book 
full  of  incident,  such  a>  inevitably  befills  a  rollicking  Irishman  of  the  more 
cultivated  class,  when  he  wanders  Into  foreign  lands,  ilr.  Ilonan  was  ibr  many 
_yeai-s  a  correspondent  of  the  London  Times,  and,  as  such,  followed  the  army 
•of  Charles  Albert  in  the  unfortunate  year  18  AS,  the  events  of  which — or  rather 
the  pei-sonal  history  of  the  writer  in  following  and  recording  them — form  tlie 
staple  of  the  narrative.  Mr.  Ilonan's  private  morality  hangs  quite  as  loosely 
about  him  as  public  virtue  does  about  his  great  employer — "the  Thunderer" — 
of  Printing  House  square. 


(7.)  The  last  volume  of  Albert  Baiine.s's  Commentary  on  the  New  Testa- 
ment is  before  us  in  his  •- Nolex,  Explanatory  and  Practical,  on  the  Book 
of  Pa-relation."  (Xew-York :  Haqier  &  Brothers,  12mo.,  pp.  50C.)  Like 
aJl  !Mr.  Barnes's  volumes,  it  is  valuable  rather  for  the  reverent  spirit  and 
practical  ahn  which  characterize  it,  than  for  scientific  basis  or  remarkable  skill 
in  interjireUitlon.  The  rreface  gives  an  interesting  personal  statement  of 
the  way  In  which  Mr.  Barnes  was  led  to  his  Biblical  labours,  and  of  the  gi-adual 
manner  in  wliich  his  work  grew  under  his  hands: — 

"Having,  at  the  time  when  these  Notes  were  commenced,  as  I  have  ever  had 
since,  the  charge  of  a  large  congregation,  1  had  no  Icisju-e  that  I  could  properly 
devote  to  these  studies,  except  the  early  hours  of  the  morning,  and  1  adopted  the 
resolution — a  resolution  which  has  since  been  invariably  adhered  to — to  cease 


1853.]  67/0/7  Reviews  and  Notices  of  Books.  139 

wrUiiiR  precisely  at  nine  o'clock  in  the  moruing.  The  habit  of  Tvritlns;  in  this 
mann.-r,  once  formed,  ■was  easily  continued ;  and  having  been  thus  continued,  1 
fin  I  niy-elf  at  the  end  of  the  New  Testament.  Perhaps  this  personal  allusion 
would  not  he  proper,  except  to  shoi7  that  I  liave  not  intended,  in  these  literary 
labours,  to  infringe  on  the  proper  duties  of  the  pastoral  ottice,  or  to  take  time 
for  tiiesc  i)iirsuit3  on  which  there  was  a  claim  for  other  purposes.  This  allusion 
may  perhaps  also  be  of  use  to  my  younger  brethren  in  the  ininistrv,  bv  showin"' 
thoin  that  much  may  be  accomplished  by  the  habit  of  early  rising,  and  bv 
a  diligent  use  of  the  early  morning  hours.  In  my  own  case,  these'^Notes  on 
the  -New  Testament,  and  also  the  Notes  on  the  books  of  Isaiah,  .Tob,  and  Daniel, 
extruding  in  all  to  sixteen  volumes,  have  all  been  written  before  nine  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  and  are  the  fruit  of  the  habit  of  rising  between  four  and  five 
o'clock.  I  do  not  know  that  by  this  practice  I  have  nedected  anv  dutv  whicli  1 
should  otherwise  have  performed;  and  on  the  score  of  health,  and,  I  "may  add, 
of  profit,  in  the  contemplation  of  a  portion  of  divine  truth  at  the  beginning  of 
each  day,  the  habit  has  been  of  inestimable  advantage  to  me."— Pp.  iii,  iv.    ° 

Our  own  exporlencc  does  not  coincide  with  ]\Ir.  Barnes's  as  to  the  advantage 
of  working  at  such  very  early  lioui-s.  No  general  mle  can  be  laid  down  in 
such  matters ;  every  man  should  find  out  what  is  the  best  plan  for  himself. 
In  general,  we  ai-e  inchned  to  think  it  hurtful  to  the  eyes  to  write  bv  candle- 
light inunediately  after  lising.  The  eye  does  not  bear  artificial  light  so  well 
after  tlic  night's  rest  and  darkness,  as  after  the  day's,  use  of  sunlighl 


(8.)  ]>R.  KiTTo's  capacity  for  work  seems  to  be  boundless :  nor  is  his  work 
slighted  from  undue  liaste.  He  has  now  commenced  an  Evening  Series  of 
the  "  Daibj  PAUe  Jflusfration.^,  heing  orlrjlnal  rm'Uiujx  for  a  yew-;'  (New- York  : 
]>.  Carter  &  Brothers,  1852,  12mo.,  pp.  419.)  of  the  former  series  of  whicli  we 
Ii-i\e  heretofore  spoken  in  terms  of  commendation.  The  volume  before  ns 
treats  of  '•  Job  and  tlie  Poetical  Books,"  and  manages,  in  short  and  compact 
roadings,^  one  for  every  evening,  to  convey  a  large  amount  of  information  on 
.s-i'-red  history,  biography,  geograpliy  and  antiquities,  interfused  throughout 
witli  practical  renections  and  exhortations.  As  tliis  volume  gives  readings 
for  thirteen  weeks,  we  suppose  that  this  series,  like  the  former,  will  run  to 
four  volumes. 


(&.)  We  should  be  glad  to  have  such  a  memorial  of  every  Methodist  Church 
HI  the  land  as  we  find  in  "  J  Historical  Sketch  of  the  First  Presbyterian  Church 
'"  X'W-nrunm-icl;  by  Robert  Davidsox,  D.  D.,  Pastor  of  said  Church." 
(New-Brunswick,  pp.  52.)  This  sketch  Avas  read  as  a  paper  before  the 
IlLstoncal  Society  of  New-Brunswick,  Sept.  8,  1852.  It  bedns  with  the 
'Mrhest  mention  of  the  Presbyterian  Church  in  172G,  when  Bev.^ Gilbert  Ten- 
nyrit  w;ls  called  to  the  pastoral  charge,  and  continues  the  record  through  all 
^H-is>itudcs  down  to  the  present  day.  AVe  have  in  this  sketch  an  illustration 
ol  th.-  manner  in  which  such  a  record,  in  judicious  hands,  may  be  ma-le  a 
lhre;Kl  on  which  many  pearls  of  local  history,  secular  as  well  as  rcli.oions,  may 
U-  rtrung  and  preserved.  Dr.  Davidson  has  evidently  gone  to  the  '•  sources  " 
'•r  nifoniunon,  ami  has  used  his  materials  whh  giea't  skill  in  prepaiin-  this 
lu-.-^t  an.I  well-profH-^rtioncd  outline. 


140  Short  Reviews  and  Notices  of  Books,         [January, 

(10.)  "  Remarks  on  the  History,  Structure,  and  Tliconcs  of  the  Apostles'  Creed^ 
(8vo.,  pp.  81,)  Is  a  reprint  of  an  article  (a-scribed  to  Dr.  rroudfit,  of  Rutger'a 
College)  from  the  Princeton  Ilopertory  for  October,  1802.  It  gives  the  liistory 
of  the  Creed  from  the  sources,  showing  that,  in  its  present  complete  form,  it  can 
be  traced  no  larther  back  than  tlic  fifth  century.  Tiie  Tridentine  theory  of  tlie 
Creed,  ■\vlucli  ascribed  it,  historically,  to  the  Apostles,  and  gave  it  an  authority 
coordinate,  in  fact,  with  Scripture,  is  then  briefly  examined.  But  the  body 
of  the  article  is  taken  up  with  the  modern  mysticophilDsopliical  theory  whicli 
came  to  a  head  in  ]^Iohler,  was  taken  up  by  the  jiervert  Newman,  and  has 
been  addling  Dr.  Xevin's  brain  for  a  few  years  pa^t.  The  discussion  is  an 
excellent  specimen  of  historical  critic-ism. 


(11.)  "The  jincro:ico]ns("  (riiiladelphia :  Lindsay  and  Blakiston,  l-2mo., 
pp.  IDl)  is  a  complete  manual  on  the  use  of  the  Jlicro«cope,  with  abundant 
illustrations,  prepared  by  Eev.  Joseph  II.  "Wytiiks,  ^I.  D.,  of  the  Philadelphia 
Conference.  At'ter  a  condensed  account  of  the  hi-tory  and  value  of  microscopic 
investigation,  it  explains  the  structure  of  the  instrument  and  its  adjuncts,  and 
the  modes  of  using  them,  in  a  manner  so  clear  as  almost  to  supersede  the 
necessity  of  further  instruction.  The  .scientific  applications  of  the  instrument 
are  then  illustrated  largely  from  Piiysiology  and  Pathology.  Another  beauti- 
ful little  work  by  the  same  author  is,  "  Curio.^itics  of  the  Microscope,  or  Illustra- 
tions of  the  Minute  Parts  of  the  Creation"  (18mo.,  pp.  132.)  This  work  h 
adapted  to  the  capacities  of  the  young,  and  is  written  in  tlie  form  of  dialogue. 
From  tlic  intrinsic  attraction  of  the  subject,  supplying  abundantly  the  pabulum 
of  marvels  which  the  minds  of  childicn  sd  gc-ncrally  crave,  as  well  as  from  the 
easy  antl  elegant  style  in  which  Dr.  \\'ythes  sets  it  forth,  and  the  beautiful 
coloured  plates  with  which  tlie  book  is  at  once  illustrated  and  adorned,  we 
know  of  no  prettier  and  more  useful  book  of  natural  science  to  put  into  the 
hands  of  children. 


(12.)  Ix  our  last  number  we  spoke  of  the  Life  of  Bishop  IM'Kcndree,  by  Mr. 
Fry,  in  very  favourable  terms.  "\Ve  have  now  to  thank  him  for  two  additional 
volumes, — "  The  Life  of  Bishop  Whatcoat"  (ISmo.,  pp.  128;)  and  "  The  Life 
of  Bishop  George,"  (18mo.,  })p.  121.) — both  publi4icd  by  ilessrs.  Carlton  and 
Phillips,  200  IMuIberry-strect,  New-York.  The  materials  at  Mr.  Fry's  com- 
mand were  very  scanty  ;  but  he  has  used  them  very  skillully,  and  has  given  us 
biographies,  brief  indeed,  l)ut  full  of  incident  and  interest  The  three  lives 
may  be  had  bound  in  one  volume;  and  we  cordially  recommend  it  as  worthy 
of  a  place  in  every  Methodist  fan\ily. 


(l.*?.)  "  Oracles  for  1  oii^A, by  Caroline  Gilm.\n,"  (Now- York :  G.P.Putnam, 
12mo.,  pp-81,)  is  a  very  prv'tty  book  of  pastimes  for  chililren  in  the  shape  of 
questions  on  personal  character  and  preferences,  answered  by  lot  from  the  book. 
It  will  furnish  innocent  and  attractive  uinusement  for  boys  and  girls. 


1653.]  Short  Reviews  and  Notices  of  Books.  141 

(14.)  ''  Pictures'jue  S(:elchcs  of  London,  past  and  present,  by  Thomas  Miller, 
(London,  1852,  l*2mo.,  pp.  306.)  bclonjrs  to  a  class  of  topographical  books 
whos(.i  interest  is  unfailing.  The  greater  2)art  of  the  work  originally  appeared 
in  tlio  Illustrated  London  News,  and  it  is  now  reprinted  as  part  of  the  National 
Illu>tratod  Library.  The  rich  historical  and  legendary  lore  that  clnstei-s 
about  the  edifices  and  localities  of  Old  London  is  largely  drawn  upon;  while 
the  London  of  the  present  day  is  sketched  from  personal  observation.  The 
work,  adoriieil  as  it  is  with  multitudinous  wood-cuts,  could  not  be  alTbrded  for 
twice  the  price  at  which  it  is  now  sold  but  for  the  fact  that  the  cuts  were 
prcj)arcd  originally  for  tlie  Illustrated  News.  All  the  books  of  the  National 
Library  are  kept  on  hand  bj-  Bangs,  Brother  &  Co. 


(15.)  "  The  Dawjhters  of  Zion,  by  Rev.  J.  D.  BriiCiiARD,  D.  D.,"  (New-York : 
John  S.  Tciylor,  185-2,  12mo.,  pp.  .355,)  is  a  series  of  narratives,  drawn  from 
the  Old  and  New  Testaments,  exhibiting  female  character  from  the  examples 
aftbrded  in  the  sacred  record.  It  is  illustrated  by  a  number  of  mezzotint 
engravings  from  Staal's  pictures. 


(16.)  The  final  volume  of  '■'Memoirs  of  the  Life  and  Writinr/s  of  Thomas 
Chalmers,  by  Rev.  William  Haxxa,"  (New-York:  Harper  &  Brothers, 
12mo.,  pp.  593,)  is,  in  our  judgment,  the  best  and  most  Instructive  of  the  four. 
It  gives  an  ample  account  of  Dr.  Chalmers's  share  in  the  "  Ten  years' conflict " 
and  in  the  formation  of  the  Free  Church  of  Scotland — which  amounts,  in  fact, 
almost  to  a  history  of  the  disruption  itself,  as  Dr.  Chalmei-s  was  the  life  and 
soul  of  the  movement.  His  relations  to  the  "Evangelical  Alliance  "and  to 
the  general  subject  of  Christian  Union,  form  another  interesting  branch  of  the 
narrative  in  this  volume.  In  the  twenty-second  chapter  we  find  his  views 
of  University  and  Theological  Education,  and  his  share  in  the  organization 
and  manngement  of  the  North  British  Review  set  forth  at  length.  Evcrv-- 
■wbere  we  find  abundant  illustration  of  his  earnest  and  practical  way  of  think- 
mg — putting  life  ^eforc  theory,  the  Bible  before  creeds,  and  virtue  before 
.sentiment.  Take  him  for  all  in  all,  he  was,  perhaps,  the  highest  style  of 
Christian  minister  that  this  century  has  produced. 


(17.)  "God  Almighty,"  says  Lord  Bacon,  "first  planted  a  garden;  and, 
indeed,  it  is  the  purest  of  human  pleasures  ;  it  is  the  greatest  refreshment  to  the 
spirits  of  man,  without  whlrli1)uiMings  and  palaces  arc  but  gross  handiworks." 
lassage^  of  this  spirit  can  be  gathered  from  the  choicest  writers,  in  prose  and 
verso,  in  all  ages.  We  are  glad  to  welcome  a  collection  from  the  latter,— 
■'  (^''"■'!'''>  ^ValL-s  tfith  the  Pocfl,  by  Mrs.  C.  ^L  Kirklaxd."  (New- York  :  G.  V. 
Putnam  &  Co.,  12mo.,  pp.  310.)'  The  gathering  of  this  nosegay  has  been  a 
labour  of  love,  and  the  taste  with  whieh  it  is  done  naturally  springs  from  a 
-yni])atiiy  with  the  .subject.  It  will  make  a  very  appropriate  "gitl-book  for  the 
liolidays. 


142  Short  Revicivs  and  Notices  of  Books.        [January, 

(18.)  Mii.  BANVARn's  "  Series  of  American  Histories"  for  Youth  is  to  extend 
to  twelve  or  more  volumes,  and  will  deserve  to  stand  in  the  ehildren's  book- 
case side  bv  side  with  ]Mr.  Abbott's  histories.  The  third  volume  is  entitled, 
"  llomance  of  American  Ilittonj,"  (Boston:  Could  &  l^ineoln,  18mo.,  pp.  306,) 
and  gives  graphic  sketches  of  the  early  events  connected  with  the  French 
settlement  at  Fort  Carolina,  the  Spanish  colony  at  St.  AugTistine,  and  the 
English  plantation  at  Jamestown — a  fertile  field  for  narratives  of  stirring 
incident. 


(19.)  "  Cornelius  NcjWf;,  icilh  Notes,  Historical  and  Explanatory,  by  Charles 
AxTHOX,  LL.  D."  (New- York:  Harper  &  Brothers,  1852,  12mo.,  pp.  396.) 
We  are  glad  to  sec  this  book.  Keiws  is  one  of  the  best  aulliors  to  put 
into  the  hands  of  beginners  in  Latin,  and  this  edition  is  prepared  admirably 
for  their  use. 


(20.)  The  twcnty-fii-st  number  of  Putnam's  "Semi-monthly  Library"  is 
*'  Talle-Talk  about  BooLs,  Men,  and  Manners," — a  very  pleasant  volume  of 
excei-pts  from  Sydney  Smith,  (not  much  from  him,  however,)  S^vift,  and  other 
of  the  best  English  classics. 


(21.)  On  the  "  Eclipse  of  Faith,  or  a  I'isil  to  a  Lelifjious  Sceptic"  (Boston: 
Crosby  &  Nichols,  12mo.,)  an  extended  review  is  preparing  by  one  of  our  best 

contributors,  and  will,  we  hope,  be  ready  for  our  April  number. 

(22.)  Dk.  Kiddeji's  labours  in  tlie  piepar;itl'>u  of  Sunday-school  books  have 
been  as  great  as  usual  diu-Ing  the  last  iiuarter.  "We  find  on  our  table  "  Ralph, 
Simon,  Clara,  and  Thcohuhl," — a  pretty  ISmo.  volume,  containing  four  of 
Cffsar  Malan's  excellent  stories  for  the  young,  ti'an>lated  from  the  French. — 
"Scripture  Facts,"  is  a  collection  of  narratives  of  New  Testament  incidents, 
prepared  by  the  skilful  author  of  tlie  ''  ]\l  p  of  IJay."  It  is  a  very  pretty 
volume  for  a  gift-book. — '■' Remarkahlc  Ddusinm,"  (18mo.,  pp.  213,)  gives  a 
sketch  of  prominent  impostures,  of  witchcraft,  &c. — "  Tlie  Adult  Scholar  and 
the  Ladi/  Teacher,"  (ISmo.,  pp.  141,)  gives  good  lessons  for  both  teachers 
and  scholars. — "  Z?c  Courteous,"  (iSmo.,  pp.  IS.'J.)  illustrates  the  refining  in- 
fluence of  true  religion. — '■'■  Frank  Xctlarton,"  (ISmo.,  pp.  23 1,)  is  a  very 
attractive  story  of  a  boy  who  maintained  his  integrity  under  trying  circum- 
stance?.— "  The  Youth's  Monitor,"  (iSmo.,  pp.  288,)  is  a  bound  volmnc  of  the 
Juvenile  Magazine  which  has  taken  the  place  of  "  Tlie  Sunday  Scholar's 
Mirror." — "  .-li/ni  Ejjic,"  (18mo.,  pp.  174.)  is  the  lii.-tory  of  a  pious  widow, 
who,  besides  struggliug  with  ])overty  and  misfortune,  had  an  uifidel  brother 
who  caused  her  nuich  sutferinT. 


(23.)  Parisian  Sit;h!s  and  French  Princi2)les,  sem  throiif/h  Am.rrimn  Spectacles." 
(New-York  :  Harper  &  r>rothers,  1852,  12mo.,  pp.  2G4.)     In  point  of  graphic 


1853.]  Short  Reviews  and  Notices  of  Books.  143 

dc<»criptIon  and  acute  observation,  wc  have  had  notliinf;;  about  Parisian  life, 
like  this  bwik,  for  a  long  -vvhilc.  The  ordimuy  "  Guide-book  "  sort  of  ti-avels  ai-e 
to  it  as  the  catalogue  of  a  gallery  is  to  the  pictures  themselves.  There  is  one 
drawback;  there  arc  many  scenes  in  this  gallery  that  never  should  have  been 
depicted  at  all.  The  -writer  himself,  speaking  of  the  masqued  balls  at  the 
opera,  savs  that  "to  virtuous  females  these  Saturnalia  had  bettpr  remain 
ainon"  the  things  unseen ;"  and  so  we  may  say  to  him  that,  if  his  book  is 
meant  to  be  read  by  '•  virtuous  females,"  "  these  Saturnalia  "  and  tlie  like  had 
bcttt;r  have  remained  uudeseribed.  The  slanders  of  the  writer  ujKJn  the 
Republicans  of  1848  are  in  execrable  taste  for  an  American. 


(21.)  "  T/te  Il'ujlter  Law  in  its  Relations  to  Civil  Government,  ivith  particular 
reference  to  Sloven/  and  the  Fiujitive  Slave  Laiv,  by  William  Hosmkr.'' 
(Auburn:  Derby  &  Miller,  1852,  12mo.,  pp.  204.)  Social  science  is  the  last 
and  most  diflicuU  branch  of  human  knowledge;  the  furthest  removed,  by 
the  complexity  and  multitude  of  its  elements,  from  the  simple  and  facile 
mathematical  ideas  and  relations  AvhicJi  are  the  first  mastered  by  tlic  human 
mind  and  by  manlcind  in  general.  And  as,  for  the  race,  this  science  is  tliC 
Last  to  be  unfolded,  so,  lor  the  individual,  its  treatment  should  be  the  work  of 
ripe  years,  enlarged  intellect,  and  varied  cultivation.  But  the  human  mind 
had,  we  thought,  succeeded  in  reaching  at  least  one  secure  and  impregnable 
position ;  viz.,  that  all  laws  for  man  in  societj-  must  rest,  for  their  validity, 
upon  the  law  of  Go<l.  Different  schools  would  express  this  differently :  some 
stating  the  necessary  ground-work  of  law  to  lie"  in  the  revealed  AA-ill  of  God ; 
others  in  the  fitness  of  things ;  others  in  the  immutable  character  of  moral 
distinctions;  others  in  the  relations  of  man  to  man  and  to  cosmiccd  nature; 
others  in  the  organic  growth  of  the  race ;  but  however  various  the  formula 
might  be,  and  whether  clad  in  the  reverential  language  of  Christian  theology, 
or  in  the  simply  scientific  language  of  the  schools,  or  in  th.e  bolder  and  balder 
terminology  of  atheism  or  pantheism,  its  substance  still  has  been,  that  liuman 
legislation  must  rest  upon  and  accord  with  some  higher  law,  or  else  be  inapt 
and  shortlived.  This  position,  wc  say,  we  had  thought  to  be  established;  but 
if  one  were  to  judge  from  the  outpourings  of  editorial  wisdom  in  many  of  the 
fwlitical  newspapers  for  a  few  years  past,  its  very  foundations  are  yet  to  be  laid. 
Cut  we  must  not  forget  that  all  newspaper  editors  can  hardly  be  expected 
to  be  philosophers.  No  moralist,  no  theologian  of  character  and  position, 
has  yet,  to  our  knoM-ledge,  denied  that  there  is  a  law  higher  than  human 
laws  or  constitutions,  and  that  these  are  only  valid  and  permanent  so  far  forth 
as  they  are  utterances  of  that. 

For  these  reasons,  and  others  that  might  bo  named,  we  have  not  deemed  it 
necessary  to  reopen  the  discussion  ot'a  settleil  question ;  believing  that  the  ialse 
views  which  have  been  so  current  in  certain  newspapers  were  hastily  taken 
up  and  uttered  to  serve  a  purpose,  and  Avould— nay,  could— -find  no  pcrnnueni 
footiiig  iu  the  public  mind.  ]Mr.  llosmer  has  judged  differently,  and  ha.- 
tJ.'ated  the  sul.ject  with  his  wonted  force  of  thought  and  vigour  of  exjjressiou 
in  the  volmne  before  us.  He  finds,  without  dilliculty,  a  higher  than  human 
law  indicated   in— 1,  the  natural   constitution  of  things;    2,  iu  the  course  o( 


144  Short  Revieivs  and  Notices  of  Books.        [January, 

Providence;  and  3,  iu  the  will  of  God,  as  nianifosted  in  revelation.  This  law 
Is  holy,  wise,  benevolent,  and  supreme.  Its  dcjipi  is  to  instruct,  to  protect, 
and  to  elevate  humanity.  One  of  its  chief  agencies  is  Civil  Government,  the 
aim  of  which,  of  course,  must  be  conservative  and  beneficent.  In  these 
principles  jMr.  Hosmer  will  find  all,  or  nearly  all,  thinking  men  to  concur  with 
him :  it  is  •only  when  he  proceeds  to  apply  and  to  limit  them  that  he  comes 
on  dcbateable  ground.  He  states  the  limitations  of  civil  government  to  be  four ; 
1,  It  cannot  bind  the  conscience ;  2,  it  cannot  impair  any  other  natural  rights  or 
powers  of  mankind;  3,  It  cannot  release  man  from  liis  responsibility  to  God; 
and  4,  it  cannot  change  the  nature  of  vice  and  virtue.  The  first  proposition 
is  ambiguous:  human  law,  whei\  it  is  right,  docs,  most  certainly,  bind  the  con- 
science. 'Mr.  Hosmer  contends  that  it  does  not,  becau5e,  although  human  laws, 
when  just,  have  the  same  force  as  divine,  yet  "  tllvlne  laAv  does  not  bind  the 
oonscience  any  more  than  the  air  we  breathe  binds  the  lungs,  or  than  light 
binds  the  eye."  This  is  true  only  when  the  relations  between  man  and  God 
ai-e  the  natural  relations  of  perfect  harmony,  or  the  restored  relations  of 
perfect  sanctificatlon.  Of  course,  human  legislation  has  to  do  with  men  in 
every  stage  of  moral  purity  short  of  perfection;  and  its  mandates,  like  those 
of  GcJ,  do  bind  the  consciences  of  multitudes.  The  mass  of  mankind, 
•'  under  law,"  whether  the  law  of  God  or  man,  arc  under  bonds.  Our  author 
argues  that  "  conscience  is  an  element  of  our  nature,  and  cannot  be  subjected 
to  any  human  authority ;  man's  conscience  is  as  his  eyes,  or  his  hands,  or  his 
feet . . .  We  may  legislate  against  [their]  abuse  but  not  against  [their]  use." 
And  precisely  the  abuses  of  conscience  (so  called)  are  those  which  most  need 
the  restraints  of  laws  both  divine  and  human.  Calvin  conscientiously  burned 
Servetus. 

The  powers  of  civil  government  Mr.  llosmer  states  as  follows :  1,  It  can 
maintain  the  rights  of  conscience ;  2,  it  can  maintain  the  other  natural  rlglits 
and  powei-s  of  mankind;  3,  it  can  enforce  obedience  to  the  law  of  God ; 
4,  it  can  maintain  the  immutable  disilnctlon  between  vice  and  vii-tue.  The 
third  of  these  statements,  of  course,  is  subject  to  restriction,  as  -'it  is  not 
pretended  that  all  the  duties  enjoined  by  the  law  of  God  come  within  the 
cognizance  of  the  civil  law."  From  these  principles  the  inference  necessarily 
follows,  that  men  are  bound  to  obey  the  law  of  the  land — tliat  is,  according  to 
our  author,  "  when  the  law  is  what  it  should  be."  The  duty  of  obedience 
"depends  entirely  on  the  character  of  the  law."  Tlie  Legislature  has  no 
authority  to  make  '•  bad  laws,"  and  such  laws,  therefore,  are  "  not  obligatory." 
Mr.  Hosmer  thinks  that  mo.-t  governments  demand  obedience  "  to  the  require- 
ments of  human  law  -vs-hotlicr  right  or  wrong,"  and  that  this  is  the  very  basis 
of  tyranny.  His  language,  in  some  parts  of  this  chapter,  ap})cai-s  to  us  to  be 
insufficiently  guarded.  Laws  may  be  "bad"  laws  in  one  sense  and  yet 
obedience  to  them  may  be  obligatory.  If  they  require  us  to  violate  a  known 
law  of  God,  wc  are  not  bound  to  obey  them :  if  they  do  not,  no  matter  how 
"bad"  they  may  be,  we  mws/ obey  them,  unless  the  cli'cumstances  justifv  a 
revolution.  Of  such  eases  the  collective  sense  of  the  people — not  the  wliinis 
of  the  individual — must  judge.  But  Mr.  Hosmer  doubtless  means  to  use  the 
word  "  bad"  in  the  sense  of  '•  immoral,"  tliougli  he  does  not  expressly  say  so. 


1853.3  Short  Reviews  and  Notices  of  Books.  145 

In  this  sense  a  bad  law  is  not  binding.  But  the  law  umst  be  clearly  sucli  as 
wc  have  stated— contrary  to  the  law  of  God— before  disobedience  can  be 
justifiable.  Of  this  the  individual  must  judge,  taking  care,  however,  at  his 
peril,  that  his  conscience  is  as  thoroughly  enlightened  as  his  circumstances 
will  admit  ol".  As  this  is  a  question  often  involving  the  widest  reach  of  human 
judgment  and  experience,  the  individual,  especially  if  his  means  of  culture 
h.ive  been  scanty,  should  not  be  in  haste  to  make  up  his  mind,  unless  a  pressinir 
emergency  should  come  upon  him  from  which  he  cannot  escape  without,  in  his 
best  judgment,  committing  sin. 

In  applying  his  principles  to  slavery,  :\Ir.  Hosmer  finds  no  difficulty  In 
proving  that  tlie  system  vioktes  natural  and  political  justice,  and  is  opposed 
Ui  the  law  of  Christianity.  PIIs  denunciations  of  the  system  are  full  of  fiery 
indignation,  and  yet  he  does  not  pronounce  all  slaveholders  to  be  eo  nomm^ 
sinners. 

"  Though  slavery  is  a  crime,  and  must  involve  all  concerned  in  it  in  "uilt 
wc  do  not  affirm  that  the  form  of  slavery  must  always  be  accompanied  by  the 
spirit.  Jhc  sliadow  mny  be  wl.ere  the  substance  is  not.  A  bad  law  anion-  a 
good  people  becomes  a  dead  letter.  Tlu.s  Washington  and  Joflcrson-the  most 
distinguished  of  patriots— were  slaveholders  only  in  name.  Born  amid  slaverv. 
and  coiinegtcd  with  it,  not  voluntarily  but  involuntai-ilv,  th.v  contracted  no 
fellowship  or  respect  for  the  system,  and  did  what  they  conM  for  its  suhv.v-.on 
There  are,  undoubtedly,  thousands  now  connected  with  slavery  who  abhor  the 
institution  and  would  gladly  break  away  from  its  chains.  Such  are  not  to  be 
classed  with  ordinary  slaveholders;  for  with  them  slaveholding  is  merely  a 
nominal  thing,  and  if  all  were  like  them  it  would  soon  be  abolished." 

He  proceeds  to  argue,  in  conclusion,  that  the  obligation  to  maintain  civil 
government  and  Christianity  constitutes,  iu  foct,  an  obligation  to  extirpate- 
slavery.  In  this,  as  in  other  portions  of  the  book,  his  reasoning  is  generally 
straightforward  and  vigorous;  but  his  results  are  often  stated  in  broad,  sweep- 
ing, and,  if  we  may  use  the  term,  unjiractlcal  language.  Take  the  following 
as  an  example :  "  Eellgion  must  either  extirpate  "sin,  or  itself  be  extlqiated 
by  sin.  All  Christians  arc,  therefore,  necessarily  opposed  to  slavery,  and,  so 
far  as  they  have  any  evangelical  goodness,  actively  engaged  in  the  work  of 
Pmancipatlon."  This  is  simply  an  exaggeration :  there  arc  many  Christians, 
who,  from  sheer  ignorance,  are  not  opposed  to  slavery ;  and  there  are  multitudes 
whose  position  and  opportunities  allow  them  to  take  no  aciii-e  part  whatever 
m  the  work  of  emancipation.     Nan  onwes  possumus  omnia. 


(-.0.)  i^The  Xatlonal  Mcujazine :  devoted  to  Uteraturc,  Art,  and  Rclwlon. 
Abel  Stevens,  Editor.  Vol.  I,  July  to  December,  1852.  8vo.,  pp.  o7-J. 
(New- York  :  Carlton  &  Phillips.)  The  appearance  on  our  table  of  this  lar^re  and 
liandsom.i  octavo  volume,  aflbrds  us  at  once  an  opportunltv  and  a  ri-ht  to  give 
a  more  d.rcet  and  critical  notice  of  the  "Xatiox.vl"  than  the  us<a-es  of  the 
rrart  have  allowed  us  to  bestow  upon  It  iu  its  perlo-Ucal  appearances.  '  A\'e  have 
*atohe.l  It,  trom  thr-  beginning,  with  a  de-ree  of  anxletv  that  we  should  hardiv 
fciv,.  been  willmg  p„bli,..!y  to  acknowledge.  Not  that  wo  had  anv  fear  of  the 
linal  i.s.sue;  we  iiad  pledged  ourselves  for  thai  m  a  way  cnUrely  too  positive 


146  Short  Rcvicivs  and  Notices  of  Books.        [January, 

and  peremptory  to  consist  with  latent  doubts  or  uncertainties ;  but  the  very 
fact  tliat  '\ve  had  cherished  a  confidence,  almost  unbounded,  in  the  success  of 
a  journal  of  the  right  stamp,  just  adapted  to  the  exigencies  of  the  times, 
naturally  made  u*  anxious  that  this  should  be  precisely  such  a  journal, 
and  that  the  public  should  not  be  years,  or  even  months,  in  finding  it  out. 
The  appointment  of  Auel  Stkvkxs  to  the  editorship  Avas  enough  to  take 
ofl"  the  edge  of  our  anxiety  even  on  this  polut ;  but  we  knew  that  he  was 
entering  upon  a  new  field,  and  that  his  apparatus  could  not  be  at  once  got 
together  and  put  in  working  order;  and  we  know  a  great  many  things  be- 
sides that  made  us  watch  the  experiment,  montli  by  month,  with  eager  and 
cai'eful  eyes. 

The  result  is  before  us  in  this  fair  volume,  and  in  the  publishers'  statement 
accompanying  it,  that  the  circulation  of  the  Magazine  is  about  iicenty 
thousand  cojiits  mouthbj.  In  the  ancient  days  of  periodical  literature — that 
is  to  say,  before  Harper's  Giant  showed  the  world  what  couhl  be  done — such  a  re- 
sult as  this  would  have  been  called  astounding.  1  Ve  call  it  satisfactory.  But  the 
more  important  question  is,  lias  this  success  been  deserved  ?  And  does  the 
^lagazlne  possess  qualities  and  capacities  that  fit  it  to  supply  any  great  want  of 
the  American  people,  and  so  entitle  It  to — not  twenty  or  thirty — but  a  hundred 
or  a  huudied'and  fifty  thousand  subscribers?  Let  us  see  !  The  six  months' 
volume  before  us  contains  5  72  pages,  mostly  printed  in  small  and  close,  though 
clear  and  legible  type.  It  has  eighty  illustrations  (if  we  have  counted  rightly) 
— nearly  all  of  them  of  the  very  best  class  of  wood-cuts.  In  point  of 
mechanical  execution — paper  and  printing — the  Magazine  equals,  if  it  does 
not  surpit-s,  any  other  jiulillshed  in  America.  In  the  working  of  the  wood- 
cuts,,especially,  the  ])rintcrs  have  gone  beyond  our  expectations:  better  work 
has  never  been  turned  out  of  an  American  ofllce. 

Sujiposlng  now  only  that  the  inattcr  with  which  these  pages  arc  filled  is 
simply  harmless  reading,  the  book  is  a  wonder  of  cheapness;  for  the  sub- 
scriber has  paid  for  this  large  and  beautiful  volume  but  one  dollar.  But 
how  are  the  pages  filled  ?  A  glance  at  the  table  of  contents  will  show  that 
hardly  any  field  of  popular  literature,  art,  or  science,  has  been  left  un- 
gleaned.  And  the  gleaner  has  gone  u]>on  the  jirinciplo  of  selecting  from  all 
these  fields  those  fruits  and  flowers  which  have  a  general  human  interest — 
rather  than  a  special,  technical,  or  class  interest — and  thus  ofiers,  not  food  for 
this  sort  of  people,  or  that,  but  a  repast  at  which  all  tastes  may  be  gi-atified. 
This  is  the  very  ideal  of  a  popular  magazine,  as  distinguished  from  a  special 
or  professional  journal.  And  this  ideal  is  realized  in  the  Katiuxai..  There 
are  very  few  pages  in  it,  from  beginning  to  cud,  that  would  not  interest 
all  classes  of  readers  alike. 

TN'hat  is  more  to  the  point,  however,  is,  that  not  one  of  these  pages  is  un- 
suitable for  any  reader,  of  any  age,  in  a  moral  point  of  view.  Mo  allusion, 
even,  of  a  sort  llki-ly  to  ollcnd  the  pTirest  mind,  or  to  hurt  the  weakest,  has 
found  place  here.  And  so,  while  the  ^Magazine  does  not  treat  exclusively,  or 
even  chielly,  on  religious  topics,  strictly  so  called,  it  ti'cats  of  all  topics  in 
just  the  Avay  in  which  a  well-balanced  religious  mind  would  treat  them. 
But,  besiilos  this,  Clnistiauity,  in  a  s})eclfie  form,  is  distinctly  recogni>ed  and 
expressed  in  every  number ;  so  that  the  intlueuce  of  the  whole  work, — with  all 


1853.]  Short  Reviews  and  Notices  of  Books.  147 

lU  rich  literary  products,  its  narratives,  its  pencil  sketches,  its  graphic  pictures 
of  ujou  and  manners,  its  flowers  of  taste  ^nd  j^wctiy,  its  rapid  surveys  of  histor)- 
and  art, — is  a  Chri.<tian  influence.  How  mighty  such  an  agency  may  be, 
no  imagination  can  conceive.  We  bid  the  National  Gotl-speedl  When 
next  we  are.  called  upon  to  notice  its  semi-annual  volume,  we  trust  it  may  be 
part  of  our  duty  to  announce  that  its  monthly  sales  have  passed  tlie  hundred 
thousand. 


(•2C.)  We  are  glad  to  see  a  new  edition  of  the  "  Physical  Theory  of  A  nother  Life, 
by  Isaac  Taylok,"  (Nciv-York:  William  Gowans,  1852,  12mo.,  pp.  "207,) 
one  of  the  most  ix)pular  -works  of  this  ambitious  -writer.  "  Superfine"  as  the 
style  of  the  -work  is,  and  -vvearisome  as  its  rhythmical  cadence  becomes  before 
one  has  read  a  chapter,  there  is  still  a  charm  in  tlie  subject  and  in  the  gro^t 
pilY  of  imaglnatlou  -wliich  the  author  brings  to  its  illustration,  tliat  -svill  always 
carrv  the  reader  through  the  book.  Logic  it  has  little  or  none — but  logic  is 
notZ^Ir.  Taylor's  forte.  Ish.  Go-svans  has  got  up  the  book  in  admirahle  style  : 
indeed,  all  his  recent  publications  are  most  creditable  specimens  of  the  art  of 
book-makinc. 


(27.)  "  Analysis  of  the  Principles  of  Church  Government :  pariicularh/  (hat  of  the 
Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  by  Rev.  M.  INI.  IIexklk,  D.  D."  (Nashville  :  Office 
of  the  Christian  Advocate,  1852,  l8mo.,  pp.  172.)  This  is  a  clear  and  sensible 
treatise,  and  one  of  the  most  tau-  and  candid,  in  its  examination  of  tlie  vexed 
questions  involved,  that  ^vc  have  seen.  Assuming,  as  established,  that  the 
■work  of  supplying  details  of  ecclesiastical  government  is  committed  to  the 
Clun-ch  by  its  great  Head,  the  author  takes  up,  as  the  main  subject  of  lils  book, 
the  question,  "  To  whom  does  tlie  right  of  administering  the  atlalrs  of  the 
Church  properly  appertain  ?"  His  first  proc-edure  is  to  ascertain  tlie  rights  |^more 
proj)Orly  the  duties)  of  the  mluistiy :  and  he  finds,  without  difficulty,  1st,  Tliat 
the  laity  have  no  right  to  sliarc  in  the  distinctive  powers  of  the  ministry; 
2d,  that  the  ministry  is  tlie  fountain,  in  a  certain  sense,  [under  divine 
authority,  and  within  the  limits  prescribed  by  the  New  Testament,]  of  all 
ecclesiastical  power,  as  it  is  their  work  to  gather  converts  and  organize  them 
iuto  Churches. 

"  For  the  foundation  and  general  elements  of  ministerial  authority,  -wc  must 
look  cbietiy  to  the  commissiou  of  Christ,  by  which  the  gospel  ministry  wiis  itself 
institutcil.  The  Lord  Jesus,  after  stating  his  right  to  confer  such  autLority, 
based  on  the  possession  of  "  all  power  in  heaven  and  on  earth,"  proeeoJs  to 
onlain  the  following  things  in  relation  to  the  ministry: — 1.  That  it  shall  be 
universal  in  its  range  of  action — "go  into  all  nations."  2.  That  it  is  to  bo 
IHirpctual-— "  I  am  with  you  to  tho  end  of  the  u-orM."  3.  That  its  first  gro:xt 
bu'^imss  is  to  preach  and  teach,  and  so  make  disciples  —  "preach  the  g'^spcl 
to  iv<-i-y  crcaturo" — "teacliing  them  to  observe  all  things  whats>->ovfr  I  ]i;ive 
eommaii.leil  you."  4.  That  another  and  sequent  dutv  of  the  ministry  i?.  t.j 
adniuuster  to  those  they  shall  have  disciplcd,  the  "initiatory  sacnihicnt  of 
bftptisui.  tlier<..by  receiving  tiicra  into  the  Christian  Church—"  baptizing  lh..m 
III  the  iKUiie  .,f  the  Father,  tlic  Son,  and  tho  Ifolv  Ghost."  •'"'.  Th.c  muv.nry 
iH  re'juirol  to  ciif.>rpe  faith  in  Christ  as  the  .m-t'at  comlitinn  of  s.ilvntion— 
"U«  that  belicveth  and  is  baptized  shall  be  saved;  and  Lc  that  belicvotli  not 


148  Short  Reviews  and  Notices  of  Books.        [January, 

shall  be  damned."  Here  the  sacred  trust  is  committed  to  the  ministry,  of 
making  disciples  to  Christ  by  preaching  the  gospel,  and  also  the  duty — if 
baptism  be  tlie  door-way  of  tlie  Churc'h,  as  nearly  all  admit — of  receiving  their 
converts  into  the  Christian  Church. 

"Cut  here  arises  a  question, — How  were  the  apostles  to  receive  members  into 
the  Church,  -when  as  yet  the  Cluistian  Church  was  not  formally  instituted  ? 
The  question  must,  as  it  appears  to  me,  remain  uuauswered,  luiless  we  aWovr 
that  a  conimission  and  command  to  impart  all  gosj^el  teaching,  and  to  appl^'  to  the 
taught  the  initiatory  sacrament,  carried  along  with  it,  by  necessary  implication, 
all  the  incidental  powers  required  for  the  perfecting  of  the  organization  clearly 
contemplated  by  the  commission.  AVill  the  premises  Avarraut  the  inference  ? 
Suppose  a  king  should  send  his  officers  into  another  country,  with  a  commission 
to  teach  the  people  the  principles  of  his  government,  and  to  convince  them  of  its 
superiority  to  all  others, — suppose  the  commission  should  run,  that  they  who 
should  submit  and  take  the  oath  of  allegiance,  should  be  saved  and  made  citizens, 
and  that  tlie}*  who  refused  submission  should  be  destroyed, — and  suppose  the 
commission  further  empowered  those  officers  to  receive  persons  as  citizens  of  the 
king's  government,  by  administering  the  oath  of  allegiance,  and  that  this 
course  of  tilings  was  to  go  on  under  the  provisions  of^  that  commission  per- 
petually, without  any  further  instruction  from  the  sovereign, — would  it  be 
understood  by  any  one  that  tJio^e  officers  were  restricted  to  the  naked  letter  of 
their  commission?  Or  wouM  it  not  rather  be  concluded,  that  whatever  other 
power  was  necessary  to  the  caiTying  into  etfect  the  measures  evidently  con- 
templated in  the  commission,  and  particularly  the  power  of  forming  those  new- 
made  subjects  into  a  province,  or  subordinate  goveruraeut,  under  the  constitution, 
laws,  and  general  sovereignty  of  the  king  who  gave  the  commission — this  power, 
I  say,  was  necessarily  implied,  both  in  the  terms  and  the  objects  of  the  com- 
mission? Yet,  an  affirmative  answer  here  does  not  entirely  conclude  the  ques- 
tion under  notice  ;  for  it  miglit  he  argued,  and  not  without  force,  that  the  power 
to  form  such  an  organization  carries  with  it  a  pov.-er  of  admitting  others  to  a 
participation  in  the  aSairs  of  the  organization.  This  might  be  true  in  some 
measure,  as  regards  those  incidental  powers  supposed  to  be  implied  in  the  terms 
and  intentions  of  the  commission ;  but  it  could  never  be  true  in  any  sense,  as  it 
respects  the  power  vested  in  the  officer  as  an  ambassador  or  a  viceroy  of  the 
king,  for  these  powers  could  only  be  conferral  by  tlic  king.  So  is  the  case  of 
the  ministry ;  God  at  first  commissioned  them  to  preach  the  gospel,  to  administer 
the  sacraments,  and  to  do  whatever  subordinately  or  incidentally  is  necessary 
to  the  doing  of  these  agreeably  to  the  divine  intention.  AVith  these  primary 
duties  they  cannot  dispense ;  in  these  they  are  the  ambassadors  of  Christ,  and 
to  ambassadors  of  Christ  only  can  they  be  committed.  Nor,  indeed,  can  they 
create  such  an  ambassador:  they  may  judge  of  his  qualifications,  and,  believing 
Ms  commission  to  be  valid,  they  may  acknowledge  his  claims,  and  endorse 
them  to  others ;  but  the  authority,  to  be  really  valid,  must  come  from  the  King 
of  Zion  himself 

"I  think,  then,  we  have  fairly  reached  this  conclusion; — in  whatever  belongs 
distinctively  to  the  powers  and  duties  of  the  ministry,  the  laity  have  no  right 
to  a  share  or  participation  ;  nor  have  the  ministry  any  right  to  yield  to  such  a 
claim,  if  it  were  set  up — the  trust  not  being  a  negotiable  one,  no  power  of  dis- 
cretion is  left  thcnt ;  and,  that  at  least  the  duty  of  preaching  the  gospel,  and 
the  administration  of  the  sacraments,  are  found  in  this  category;  but,- that  with 
regard  to  those  acts  that  are  subordinate  and  incidental  to  the  great  ends  of  the 
Christian  ministry,  no  interdict  is  fniud  in  the  constitution,  and  herein  a  dis- 
cretionary power  may  be  claimed." — Pp.  IG-'JO. 

At  the  same  time  he  sets  forth  clearly  the  doctrine  that  Christians,  iu  virtue 
of  their  rel.itioii  to  Chiist,  arc  entitled  to  all  those  rights  in  tlie  Church  which 
Christ  has  not  vested  elsewhere.  The  particular  and  distinctive  rights  of 
botli  ministry  and  laity  are  then  sought  for  in  the  necessary  functions  of 
each  as  parts  of  the  great  living  organism  of  the  Cluircli;  and  with  regard  to 
all  these  jtoiuts,  (such  as  receiving  and  excluding  uunistors  and  menibei-s,  &c.,} 


IS53J    •  Short  Reviews  and  Noticca  of  Books.  I49 

iLe  utai^oa  of  the  principal  braucbos  of  the  moderQ  Church  are  compared 
wu!i  th(e;c  of  the  I^Icthodist  Episcopal  Church  very  liiirly  and  pei^picuously. 
llifl  jjnoslion  of  lay  representation  is  discussed  at  length,  and  with  ?rcat 
njiMlcralioii.  Dr.  Ilenkle  concludes  against  such  representation  in  the  chief 
•yiji>d  of  the  Church,  on  the  grounds  both  of  the  reason  and  of  the  thinij,  and 
of  pk-nrra!  expediency;  but  yet  urges  that  the  laity  should  use  iha  rights 
and  }h>n:-rs  that  attach  to  their  sphere  in  the  Church  to  a  greater  extent  than 
Uh'v  nuw  do. 

•'  It  may  be  -worth  while  to  inquire  whether  the  talent  and  zeal  of  the  laity  may 
not  Ix-  l.n.ught  in  to  the  aid  of  the  ministry  in  tliose  matters  wherein  their  to- 
uiKratiun  would  be  most  valuable,  without  any  revolutioniziog  measures,  or  any 
ch:inj;e  of  a  disturbing  character.  In  several  of  the  Southern  annual  contercnccs 
an  r.rrangemont  has  been  in  operation  for  some  years,  which  pro\e3  verj'  accept- 
«ble  ami  liighly  advantageous.  The  board  of  district  stewards  annually  appoint 
0:1.:  of  their  body  to  represent  them  in  the  next  annual  conference,  and  the  lav 
rvpr.-scntative  so  appointed  is  recogni^sed  as  a  member  of  the  conference,  so  fitr 
R-s  the  tr;insaction  of  fiscal  business  is' concerned.  This  plan  i.s  rapidly  gaining 
in  popubarity,  and  is  productive  of  the  most  desirable  results.  Indeed,'^!  have 
no  id.'.i  that  those  lay  delegates  could  be  half  so  useful  in  the  General  Conference 
n«  tiuy  ar.'  m  the  annual.  There  it  is  matter  of  rule-makimr,  appeal-trying, 
criiAT-.'Krting,  and  the  like;  here,  it  is  matter  of  action,  and  planning  and 
pnj-ann--  ior  action,— straightforward  business  action,  with  which  many  of 
vur  iayiueu  are  most  thoroughly  acquainted.  That  the  laitv  ought  to  be  brought 
more  directly  into  cooperation  with  the  ministry  than  has  been"' the  case  among 
U.I.  I  do  not  doubt;  and  for  the  present,  I  see  no  better  plan  than  that  of  which 
we  lire  now  speaking.  This  involves  no  infraction  of  the  divine  constitution, 
no  sacnficc  of  vested  rights,  no  revolutionary  movements,  and  yet  carries  with 
U  great  etticicncy  and  practical  usefulness. 

Arul  so  far  as  the  Church's  reputation  with  the  world  is  concerned,  I  doubt 
not  but  the  seeing  of  our  prominent  laymen  activelv  employed  every  year  in 
managing  the  gival  financial  interests  of  the  Church,  in  twenty  different  confcr- 
enot-s.—or,  taking  North  and  South,  in  say  sixty  conftTcnces,— would  make  ai 
much  better  impression  on  the  public  mind  than  their  voting  for  a  minister 
to  represent  them  iu  the  General  Conference  could  posstblv  do,— aye,  or  even 
Iheir  hoMing  seats  in  tliat  body  once  in  four  years  themselves,  where  they 
voul  1  be  much  less  relatively  prominent  in  the  public  eye,  than  iu  the  annual 
coiiferfnces. 

i  urthermorc,  (lualified  laymen  may  be  readily  enough  found  who  are  willing  to 
travel  tu  their  own  respective  annual  conferences,  a  distance  of  twenty-five,  fifty,  or 
one  hundred  nulcs,  and  devote  a  few  days  to  the  business  of  the  Church  ;  but  it  might 
Y'  a  httle  more  difficult  to  find  laymen  of  the  first  order  of  talent  willing  to  travel 
to  a  General  Conference  a  distance  of  two,  four,  or  six  hundred  miles,  and  devote 
n  vo  or  SIX  weeks  of  their  valuable  time  to  affairs  of  the  Church  without  componsa- 
i)"n.  aij(l  to  the  large  prejudice  of  their  private  interests  at  home.  If  a  minister 
»I>oiuis  f..rty  orfifty  day.s  iu  attending  a  General  Conference,  it  is  but  a  part  of 
fiis  rpgul:ir  business,  and  his  time  and  salary  go  on  as  if  he  were  at  home;  but 

11  lawyer  a  merchant,  a  physician,  or  an  artisan,  whose  time  is  worth  two 
uii.ire.l  d.jllars  a  month,  attend  the  same  conference,  he  sustains  a  heavy  loss, 
ench  a-s  few  men  would  feel  it  their  duty  to  incur."— Pp.  1G5-1G7. 

It  >s  a  ])ity  that  this  valuable  little  book  should  be  disfigured  as  it  is  by 
tJI" -graphical  blunders. 

P'^.)  "  Th.'  ^I.:n  of  the  rime:'  (New- York  :  J.  S.  Rcdfiold,  1 S52, 1 2ino.,  pp.  5C4,) 
»»  R  buvniplueal  eyclopa-dia  of  eminent  living  notabilities.  It  is  founde.l  upon 
a  I.orul,.u  Ux.k,  h.iving  the  same  title,  but  with  large  additions  in  foreign  .-us 


150  Short  Reviews  and  Notices  of  Boolis.        [January> 

well  as  in  Ajiierican  biography.  The  value  of  such  a  work  dopcuds,  of  coarse, 
upon  itd  comj)leteness  and  its  accuracy — fjualities  which  may  be  predicated  of 
this  volume  to  a  limited  extent  The  only  way  to  make  it  complete  is  to  note 
ever)'  deficiency  as  it  appears,  and  to  remedy  it  in  successive  editions.  We 
trust  this  coiu^e  will  be  pursued  by  2klr.  liedlield,  who  will  find  himself,  when 
his  work  is  complete,  amply  remunerated  for  any  labour  and  money  that  may 
be  spent  upon  it. 

(29.)  '■'■Footprints  of  oui- Forefathers ;  what  thry suffered,  and  ivhat  they  sought. 
By  Jamks  G.  ]Miall."  (Boston:  Gould  &  Lincoln,  1852,  12mo.,  pp.  352.) 
This  book  contains  a  series  of  graphic  dcscrijjtions  of  localities,  personages, 
and  events,  conspicuous  in  the  struggles  for  religious  liberty  in  Eiigland.  The 
animus  of  the  work  is  a  bitter  hatred  of  the  union  of  Church  and  State: 
and  its  aim  is  to  sho'sv  how  "  any  religious  system,  whether  Episcopal,  Presby- 
terian, or  Congregational,  may  become  -^filiated  and  perverted  by  its  alliance 
with  the  powers  of  the  State,  and  by  the  assumjition,  exclusiveness,  and  worldly 
pride,  which  such  a  connexion  invariably  engenders."  Its  feaiful  pictures  of 
religious  cruelty  are  mainly  illustrative  of  J'ruleslanl  intolerance — that  is  to 
say,  of  State-Church  intolerance,  under  rrotostant  name  and  pretence. 


(30.)  "  New-Yorl-:  a  Historical  SLctch  of  the  Rise  and  Progress  of  the  ^fetro- 
politan  City  of  America,"  (New-York:  Cailtou  &  riiillips,  1853,)  belongs 
to  the  class  of  tojx)graphical  works  of  whicli  we  have  spoken  above,  as  pos- 
sessing unfailing  interest.  It  connnenccs  with  the  discovery  of  the  Hudson ; 
and  gives,  in  as  nuich  detail  as  the  liuilts  of  the  book  would  allow,  the  history 
of  the  city  from  its  fjundations  to  the  present  tune.  After  this  historical 
sketch,  we  have  a  description  of  "New- York  as  it  is,"  giving  an  account  of  its 
government,  its  institutions,  public  edifices,  streets,  trade,  environs,  and  people. 
A  glowing  anticipation  of  the  future  of  the  great  city  closes  the  volume.  The 
illustrations  are  abundant;  and  the  book,  we  should  think,  will  not  onlv  be 
acceptable  to  Knickerbo(.'kers,  but  also  to  the  dwellers  in  the  ••  provinces," 
who  can  only  know  the  "  metropolis  "  from  books  and.  maps. 


(31.)  "  Select  British  Eloquence,  by  Ciiauxcky  A.  GooDuiCH,  D.  D.  (New- 
York  :  Harper  &  Brothers,  1852,  8vo.,  pp.  918.)  This  massive  volume  is  not, 
as  the  title — or  rather  the  public  experience  of  bfx)ks  with  similar  titles  — 
might  lead  one  to  suppose,  a  mere  collection  of  •' specimens"  of  eloquence, 
or  detached  passages  from  fine  orations.  It  contains  entire  speeches  of  the 
great  masters  of  British  eloquence  for  a  period  of  two  hundred  years, 
beginning  witli  Sir  John  Eliot,  and  ending  with  Lord  Brougliani.  All  of 
Chatham's  speeches  are  given,  and  nearly  all  of  Burke's:  in  fact,  with  this 
book  at  hand,  an  ordinary  reader  would  want  no  other  edition  of  Chatham,  or 
even  Burke,  at  all.  But  besides  this  mass  of  matter,  the  book  contains,  in  the 
form  of  introductions,  memoirs,  notes,  &c.,  the  substance  of  Professor  Good- 
i-ich's  course  of  Lectures  to  his  classes  in  Yale  College  for  a  series  of  years : 
furnishing  every  sort  of  biographical,  explanatory,  and  critical  obse^^atioIl 


1653.]  Shoi-t  Reviews  and  Notices  of  Books.  151 

iM-crssary  for  the  Illustration  of  tlie  subject-matter.  A  more  valuable  repertory 
fur  die  stiiJeut  of  tlieology,  or  indeed  for  any  man  who  has  occasion  to  use 
his  to«ij,'uo  In  j.ublic  speech,  could  not  be  devised.  "\Vc  regret  that  the  work 
has  bc'c-u  condensed  into  so  small  a  compass :  cheapness  is  ill  secured  at  the 
f  xpen>c  of  eyesight. 

(32.)  ^'^  Ikmlniscences  of  Thought  and  Fcclhig,"  (Boston:  Crosby,  Nichols, 
&  Co.,  18.33,  12nio.,  pp.  323,)  contains  a  series  of  essays,  or  rather  reveries, 
hv  &  quiet  woman  of  mature  years  and  large  experience.  Beginning  life  as 
the  ill-governed  daughter  of  a  warm-hearted  and  unrestrained  Irish  gentleman, 
she  took  to  literature  In  early  womanhood ;  wrote  novels  that  gained  her  thou- 
Minls,  and  then  fell  in  with  Simeon  and  the  Evangelicals  at  Cambridge,  and 
yielded  to  their  influence  for  some  years.  After  this  "  experience,"  she  went 
a  slwrt  way  into  Irvingism ;  and  finally,  from  sheer  exhaustion,  both  of  mind 
and  boily,  fell  back  upon  what  seems  to  be  a  true  and  genuine  faith,  though 
quite  of  a  mystic  and  Quakerish  sort : — 

"I  liavc  arrived  at  a  point  of  experience  which  occasions  me  to  accept  all  hu- 
man pcntiuicnts  and  opinions  with  much  hesitation  and  distrust.  I  sec  that 
there  is  a  natural  tendency  in  human  beings  to  >iO  to  extremes,  and  to  denounce 
tlio.-e  who,  on  llie  bulijcct  of  religion,  choose  to  think  fur  themselves.  I  perceive 
also  that  the  evil  of  corrupt  nature  works  nowhere  so  powerfully  nor  so  unsus- 

Xecte<lly  as  in  religious  matters  ;  and  that  many  sincere  persons  think  they  arc 
oiug  God  service  by  condemning  their  fellow-creatures,  when  in  all  probability 
they  arc,  unconsciously  indeed,  but  very  certainly,  indulging  the  latent  malice 
and  love  of  tormenting  which  make  so  prominent  a  part  of  human  corruption. 
I  can  discern  that  the  views  of  such  persons  are  so  one-sided  aiwil  so  narrow,  that 
it  is  scarcely  possible  to  make  them  accord  with  reason;  and  that,  when  once 
we  abandon  the  use  of  reason,  there  is  notliing  too  preposterous  or  too  absurd, 
or  even  too  cruel,  for  the  human  being  to  eng-age  in. 

*•  The  great  desideratum  seems  to  me  to  be  the  possession  of  a  well-groun<led 
confi<lencc  in  the  dictates  of  an  interior  and  infallible  guide.  The  most  excellent 
of  truths  that  have  to  pass  through  faulty  and  infirm  agents  in  their  transmis- 
sion can  never  eoTne  to  us  without  alloy.  This  is  to  be  remembered  and  allowed 
for ;  or  else  there  will  be  (as  at  one  period  of  my  life  there  was  for  me)  no  peace, 
no  rest,  no  belief  of  having  done  one's  duty,  till  the  greater  part  of  our  friends 
and  acquaintances  are  renounced  as  infidels,  and  the  general  conduct  is  that  of 
a  person  who  had,  upon  principle,  abjured  the  use  of  common  sense. 

"  The  very  essence  of  fanaticism  consists  in  taking  our  stand  upon  some  par- 
ticular doctrine,  and — forgetting  how  limited  and  low  onr  knowledge  (as  imper- 
ffct  creatures)  is  likely  to  be  of  the  full  bearing  of  that  doctrine — the  legislating 
from  it  fur  all  the  world ;  and,  though  purblind  with  prejudice,  and  cramped 
Willi  bigotry,  still  supposing  that  we  are  seeing  and  judging  in  the  freedom  and 
iu.i.artiality  of  the  Spirit  of  Truth."— Pp.  321,  322. 

This  extract  is  enough  to  give  our  readers  a  taste  of  the  exquisite  simplicity 
and  beauty  of  style  which  marks  the  volume  throughout. 


(33.)  ^'Jo'trnnlqfthe  General  Coufcrencc  of  the  Methodkt  Episcopal  Church, 
h-Ul  in  Boston,  Mass.,  1852."  (New- York :  'Carltoa  &  rhilllps,  Svo.,  pp.  20G.) 
llio  Journals  are  here  presented,  as  ordered  by  the  General  Conference,  in 
til.-  usual  form.  An  Index  is  added  to  this  issue,  which  greatly  increases  if' 
value  for  i)uri)oscs  of  reference,  wliich  indeed  are  almost  the  only  uses  of  such 
a  re<onl. 


152  Short  Reviews  an  J  Notices  of  Books.        [Jonunn', 

(31.)  "T//6'  Methodist  PreacJter"  (Auburn :  DeiLy  &  Miller,  1S52,  Svo.,  pp.  391) 
cont^iins  twonty-clglit  sermons,  by  twenty-three  difTerent  niinistei-s,  among 
whose  names  we  find  those  ofFisk,  I3an;:s,  Iledding.Durbin,  Coles,  and  others. 
Tlie  sermons  -ft'ere  not  written  for  this  colleetion,  but  have  been  gathered  from 
various  sources. 


(35.)  "  The  Chrigtian'.i  Cloant  Companion,  by  Kev.  J.Pucn,"  (Louisville,  Ken- 
tucky: E.  Stevenson,  lSo2,  12ni0.,  pp.  52S,)  contains  a  brief  exposition  of  a 
text  of  Scripture  for  every  day  in  the  year,  somewhat  after  the  plan  of 
Jay's  Morning  and  Evening  Exerci-^fS.  'I'he  authors  cited  belong  to  every 
branch  of  the  Evangelical  Church  in  Euroiie  and  America;  but  the  greater 
part  of  them  are  among  the  cln'ri~]u-d  names  of  Mi'tlK;di*m. — ^^'e^ley,  Benson, 
Clarke,  ludmondson,  Summerfield,  &c.  Of  the  utility  of  manuals  of  this  sort 
for  daily  use,  there  can  be  no  question ;  and  \>c  know  of  none  so  likely  to  be 
acceptable  and  useful  to  Methodists  as  the  one  before  us. 


(30.)  We  could  hardly  bring  better  n(;ws  to  our  youthful  readers,  (If,  indeed,  we 
have  any  such  readei-s.)  tlian  that  Mr.  J.\roii  .ViinoTT  has  got  to  work  again 
upon  his  series  of  Historical  Xarratives.  The  subject  this  time  is"  The  History  of 
llomulus."  (Harper  &  Brothers:  Ncw-Yoik,  \Kr2,  18mo.,  pp.  310.)  Mr.  Ab- 
bott gives  the  legends  just  as  he  finds  them,  without  any  reference  toiSiebuhr's 
destructive  labours.  He  certainly  gives  a  nso-t  interesting  story;  but  it  is  to 
be  feared  that  his  young  readers,  unwarnn'  that  tliis  volume  diffei-s  from  those 
that  have  preceded  it  in  being  unhistoriial,  will  tiilie  it  all  for  true. 


(57.)  ^Iks.  Qosxst  finishes  her  grateful  and  genial  labours  in  the  translation 
of  Neander's  Practical  Conmicntaries  with"  7'/;.  J'irst  Epiitle  of  John,  prac- 
tically explained,  by  Augustus  Nf.andki:."  (Xcw-York  :  Lewis  Colby,  1852, 
12rao.,  pp.319.)  Xo  modern  thcologiati  (oxeept,  perhaps,  ]\Ielancthon)  has 
evinced  so  many  of  the  characteristics  of  the  Apostle  John,  as  Neander:  and 
so  he  is  specially  qualified,  by  a  quicker  >ympathy  than  common,  to  catch  the 
spirit  of  the  beloved  Apostle's  writings.  Mrs.  Cunant  remarks  truly,  In  her 
preface,  that  in  explaining  tlils  l'pi>tle,  ••  Xeander  found  a  peculiarly  conge- 
mal  field.  There  is  a  noble  freedom  and  a^^irance  in  his  tread,  a  glow  of 
feeling,  an  cloiiucncc  of  utterance, such  a-  even  Xian.lcr  exhibits  nowhere  else." 

(38.)  "  Dickens's  ITo'.K<i'h:hI  Words"  is  now  rei-rintcd  by  Mr.  T.  ZVI'Elruth, 
(New- York,  17  Spruce-slrcct,)  who  adds  to  it  a  weekly  synopsis  of  news, 
under  tlic  title  of  "  'J'he  United  Stalo.-*  Weekly  llegi.>t<;r.'' 


(39.)  "  Kalhay,  hy  W.  n.\Mi.N(..><  MACAta.AY,"  ( New- York :  G.  T.  Putnam 
&  Co.,  1852,  12mo.,  I'p.  230.)  is  a  mtrrativt-  of  a  criil.se  in  the  China  Seas, 
evidently  by  an  iinpraotis-jd  writer,  but  yet  written  with  a  good  deal  of  spirit 


J 852.]  Short  Reviews  and  Notices  of  Books.  153 

(40.)  Jnpnn:  an  Account,  GeograpJdcal  and  Historical,  from  the  earliest pei-iod 
dou-n  to  the  present  time,  by  Charles  Mac  Fa rl axe,  Esq."  (yew- York: 
(;.  P.  I'liftinm  &  Co.,  1852,  12mo.,  pp.  3G5.)  Just  at  this  timo,  any  rcliablo 
intorination  with  regard  to  Japan  is  acceptable  ;  and  theref<>re  we  welcome 
thi.s  Ixv  (k.  liioiiLih  an  imperfect  compilation,  by  an  iinskilk-d  hand.  ^Ir.  ]^Iac  Far- 
lane  Ii.js  had  access  to  very  valuable  sources  of  information  ;  and  ^ves  u> 
liuny  u^ctiil  statements  from  Kampfer  and  TLunbcrg.  with  large  extract  fiom 
(jolownin,  an<I  other  more  recent  writers.  Such  as  it  is,  the  book  is  the  best 
ivp<T(ory  of  information  on  Japan  now  extant,  in  a  convenient  and  portable 
form. 


(•11.)  "  A  Latin-Engliah  and  English-Latin  Dictio'irri/  for  the  use  of  Schools, 
chiefii  from  tk':  Lexicons  of  LVeitnd,  Georges,  and  Kaltschmidt,  bv  Charles 
Antiion,  LL.  p."  (NcAv-York:  Harper  ic  Brothers,  18.52,  12mo.,  pp.  1260.) 
This  work,  as  is  stated  in  the  preface,  is  mainly  an  abridgment  of  lilr.  Riddle's 
translation  of  Frcund's  '•  Gesammtwdrtorbuch  dcr  Lateinischen  Sprache ;" 
but  additions  iiave  been  made  from  many  other  sources.  The  Eng!i>!i-Latiit 
part  is  chiefly  reprinted  from  Kaltschmidt.  The  work  will  supply  all  the 
wants  of  beginners  in  Latin,  up  to  the  time  when  they  will  need  xVndrcws' 
Freund ;  and,  of  course,  for  beginners,  it  is  vastly  preferable  to  the  latter- 
great  work. 


(42.)  Of  the  following  sermons,  pamphlets,  serials,  &c.,  we  can  give  nothing 
but  the  titles  : — 

The  Alleged  FaiU;rc  of  Prote'stantism:  a  Sermon  preached  in  the  Unitarian 
Church  at  AVashington,  February  22,  1852.     By  Kev.  H.  "\V.  Bellows. 

London  Labour  and  the  London  Poor.  By  Henry  W.  Mayuew.  Part 
XX.     (New- York  :  Harper  &  Brothers.) 

Pictorial  Ficld-Book  of  the  Picvolution :  or,  Illustrations  by  Pen  and  Pencil 
of  the  History,  Scenery,  Biography,  Relics,  and  Traditions  of  the  "War  for 
Independence.  By  B.  J.  LossiNG.  (No.  26 )  (New-York :  Harper  & 
Brothers.) 

Science  and  the  Scriptures :  a  Discourse  before  the  New- York  Alpha  of  the 
Phi  Beta  K:'.i)pa  Society,  delivered  at  Union  College.  Schenectady,  July  27, 
1852.     By  Pc-ov.  Benjamix  N.  Martin,  A.  M. 

An  Address  delivered  before  the  Boston  Young  Men's  Christian  Association, 
on  the  0(.'casion  of  their  First  Anniversary,  in  Park-street  Church.  Boston: 
Tuesday  evening,  May  25,  1852.     By  CiiAs.  Tiieo.  Rlssell. 

Evil-speaking;  or,  a  Bridle  for  the  Unbridled  Tongue:  a  Sermon.  V>y 
llcv.  Isi'.AEL  Chamueklayne.  Delivered bcforc  the  Preachers'  Association 
of  Ni;'g,,ra  Di.-trict,  (Genesee  Annual  Conference  of  the  JI.  E.  Chureb,) 
NL'igara  Fails,  August  1,  18-1 8. 

The  New-Loiidou  Young  Men's  Christian  Association.  Organized  .Julj 
IS,  1852. 

FoL'UTii  JSkhii:?.  Vol.  V. 10 


154  Literary  and  Religious  Intelligence.  [January, 

A  Discourse  on  Christ's  Mediation,  by  Rev.  Joun  Dempster,  D.  D.,  before 
the  members  of  the  SL-thodist  General  Biblical  Institute,  Concord,  i^.  H.,  1852. 

The  Home  Mi.-,>ionary,  October,  1852. 

The  Southen:  Lady's  Companion. 

Catalogue  of  Newbury  Seminary,  and  the  Female  Collegiate  Institute,  New- 
bury, Vermont,  1851-52. 

Catalogue  of  the  Officers  and  Students  of  the  ruippahaiinock  Academy  and 
Military  Institute,  for  the  Academic  Year  1851  and  1852. 

Catalogue  of  the  Metluxlist  General  Biblical  Institute,  Concord,  N.  IL,  1852. 

An  Address  delivered  before  the  Alumni  AsstK-iation  of  Ilutgcr's  College, 
July  27,  1852.     By  Rev.  Abraham  Poi-UKMirs,  of  Hopewell,  N.  Y. 

Guide  to  Holiness. 

The  Foreign  Missionary :  published  I'or  the  Boiird  of  Foreign  Missions  of 
the  Presbyterian  Church. 

Catalogue  of  the  Wesleyan  University,  1852. 

Address  of  the  Yearly  Meeting  of  the  Religious  Society  of  Friends,  held 
in  the  City  of  New- York,  in  the  Si.xth  Montli,  1852,  to  the  Professors  of 
Christianity  in  the  United  States,  on  the  Su!)ii'et  of  Slavery.   • 

An  Address  on  the  ImjKjrtance  of  the  Sabbath-Scliool  Enterjiriso,  delivered 
near  Manilla,  Indiana,  June  IC,  1852.  By  Prof  J.  Wiieelkk,  of  the  Indiana 
Asbury  University. 

The  Bible  a  Perfect  Book:  an  Addre-s  delivcre.l  before  the  Bible  Society 
of  Pennsylvania  College  and  of  tlic  Theokigieal  Seminary,  Aj)ril  13,  1852. 
By  Rev.  Charles  Poutkkfield  I\){auth,  Pastor  of  the  Evangelical  Lu- 
theran Church,  Winchester,  Va. 

The  Baptist  Almanac  for  the  Year  of  our  Loi-il  1853. 


Art.  X.— LITERARY  AND  RELIGIOUS  INTELLIGENCE. 

or  t]  c  0 1 0  g  i  c  fl  I , 

EUUOPE.W. 

Skldom  has  good  matter  been  so  spoiled  wish    tliat   some    intelli]^'cnt  Presbyterian 

in  the   h.inJliug   as   in   "  Jfrnioirn   oj   (he  writer  wonKl  abriilge  and  rewrite  it    for 

Liv<'<>  of  Robert  ILthluK:  an'l  uj  hU  hmthcr  Amoricau  readers.     It  is  a  pity  that  such 

Jam,  8  Al<.randi:r  Ilalihuif,  by  .Vi.Ex.\xpi:p.  shinincj  examples  of  Christian  holiness  and 

Hai.da\k,  i;sq.''(rA)nd..  1S.J2,  8vo.,  pp.  67G.)  .i,.tivity  as  tli.,-  lives  of  these  two  brothers 

The  early  history  of  these  two  brothers  is  allord,  should  bo  lost  to  a  generation  so 

full  of  iiirident :  their  conversion  and  their  si^'nully  in  need  of  them  as  the  present, 
subsequent  devotion  to  the  prupajation  of 

true  religion  form  one  of  the  must  remark-  Ix  a  former  number  of  this  Journal  (Oct. 

able  Chri^tian  histories  of  recent  times;  1.S.">1,  ^Ut.  viii)  we  ijave  uu  account  of  the 

but  their  binLfrapher  haseontriveil,  liy  sheer  important  MS.  brou-lit  from  Greece  in  1812 

dint  of  incapacity,  so  to  overlay  the  rich  by  M.  .Mynus,  an<I  published  at  the  Claren- 

material  in  his  hands  with  platitudes  and  don   Press  under  the   suiieriutendeuce  of 

inanities,  as  to  make  the  Ixjuk  as  wearisome  M.  Miller.     In  that  article  it  was,  we  think, 

and    unreadable   as  a  bio;,'raphy  of  "the  clearly  shown  that  the  MS.  Wiis  the  work 

nuldaues"  could  possibly  be.     We  heartily  of  //''^jpo/^yfu*,  Uishop  of  Tortus.     The  tame 


18:.3.] 


Theoloi'ical. 


155 


vlc«-  is  more  am].!}- ni^iiiilaincil  in  •' ILjipo- 
lfl„.  aiirl  hu  Ajr:  or,  th:  Doctruw  and 
J'n'ctirr  of  the  Church  o/  Home  itiuhr  Cuia- 
u\t»l»f  mill  A-'-j-iiii'ler  S^rcri's,  by  tlie  Chev- 
tilit  r  lU-vsns-."  (London,  Longmans.  4  vols., 
Svo.)  Tilt;  first  volume  is  chiefly  taken  up 
with  asccrtaiuini,'  the  raithorship  of  the 
w'.rk.  niul  «ith  the  text  itself.  The  Preface 
»in<licivt(-s  the  theoluu'v  of  Gemiany  fi-om 
the  ini.li-icriniinatinir  ahust-  lavished  upon 
if  hy  so  nuiiiy  P'ngli>h  writers,  and  assigns  it 
(.luioii;,- other  causes'!  to  "  that  unfortunate 
i-.ol.iti..n  from  the  religious  life  of  the  rest 
of  till'  worltl,  am!  of  Germany  in  particular, 
ill  which  English  Trotestants.  with  the 
niiv.'le  exception  of  Johx  Wesi.ev.  have 
lived  these  last  two  hundred  years." 

"  Or'  C/ci)fHte  Prc^h'/tcro  Afexaii'Jriuo 
Jl-iniif,  Siriptitrc,  Phifotopho,  Thcoloijo, 
UUr.  <im,„  .rr!p.nt  H.  J.  Rr.INKENS.  D.  D/' 

(Vratislav.,  Is.-.l,  8vo..  pp.  3.".S.)  This  is  an 
el^l)'>rate  treatise,  by  a  Roniau  Catholic 
divine,  of  r>reslau,  on  the  life  and  writings 
of  C'lenu-ns  Romauus.  After  a  brief  sketch 
of  the  life  of  Clement,  (pp.  \-22,)  the  autlior 
treats  (chap,  ii,  pp.  23-3-1)  of  his  w  ritings 
in  general,  and  then  (ch.  iii,  pp.  3S-270) 
of  his  several  trtatises  in  particular.  Then 
follows  (ch.  iv,  jip.  271-309)  an  estimate  of 
Clement  as  a  philosoiiher,  and  (ch.  v,  pp. 
Til'V-'Vil)  his  characteristics  as  a  theologian. 
Ir  wa>  lone  known  and  lamented  by  the 
Karned  that  a st-ries  of  lt.tters  by  .Vthanasius 
on  the  Christian  Festivals  had  been  lost 
in  the  course  of  age^.  Montfaucon  thi's 
crpre.ises  himself  with  regard  to  them  in 
the  jirefaco  to  his  edition  of  the  works  of 
.^tliaui'.sius :  "  Xulla,  opinamur,  jactura 
m;ijor,  quamKiiistolarum  £0/)ra(77iK(2iv  aut 
Ffstalium  .  .  .  Hei,  hei,  qnam  pungit  dolor 
:imi*si  thesauri!  quantum  ad  historiam, 
ad  consuetudines  ecclesiarum,  ad  morum 
jrao-pta  hinc  lucis  aocederet  .  .  .  Et  for- 
t.i->is  adhue  alicubi  latent  in  Orionte,  ubi 
'■eno  niiilta  exstant."  His  anticipation  has 
l«<n  fully  nit-t.  Those  of  our  readers  who 
h-ivf  ];erused  that  most  entertaining  book, 
(  Mrzi'tit  JfonriKlpries  of  the  Levant,  know 
thit  in  the  Xitrian  valley,  about  forty  miles 
If' tn  .\lexaudria,  are  four  ancient  monas- 

trri.  s.b,|i<»  k„„V,  „  t„  (.yj^f^J^^  ^..,}j,.^l,]^>  „j^„,,. 

*<-rii.ts.  In  l.-i:;7  Curzon  visited  them,  and 
bri"i-.'ht  away  a  specimen  of  their  treasures. 
In  l-V.»  .Vrch.Uneon  Tattam.  who  ha.l  been 
l-i,;riiij.M^'i.,I  in  Cuptie  studi(;s  v.ith  a  view 

♦"_  a"  ♦•''"'■' '^  the  Coptic  version  of  the 

r.nie.  went  tu  Egypt  f.,r  the  lurthcrauce 
vf  th.M-    ^tudi.s,   .uid  obtain.Ml   from   the 


monks  in  one  of  these  monasteries— that 
of  St.    Mary   Deipara —  forty-nine    manu- 
scripts, some  of  them  of  great  value,  which 
were  soon  deposited  in  the  British  Museum. 
Mr.   Cureton,   the    learned   editor   of   the 
Iguatian  Epistles,  carefully  examined  these 
MSS.,  and  gathered  from  them  and  from 
the  accounts  of  Dr.  Tattam  and  Mr.  Curzon, 
that  there  were  still  "lying  in  ob-'uvity. 
in  the  Valley  of  the  Ascetics,  at  lea-c  t«.> 
hundred  volumes,  of  an  antiquity  anterior 
to  the  close  of  the  ninth  century."     In  I'^li 
Dr.  Tattam  again  visited  the  monasteries, 
at  the  expense  of  the  British  Governmeiit, 
and    his  efforts  were   rewarded    by  more 
than  three  hundred  additional  rcanu^criiits. 
which  arrived  in  the  British  Museum  in  the 
following    year.      This,   the   niouks    said, 
constituted    their   entire   collection;     but 
thev  only,  by  a  pious  fraud,  kept  back  about 
hi<lj\  to  tempt  Eifglish  gold  on  sonic  future 
occasion.  In  1847  Mr.  .Vnguste  Pai-ho  visited 
the  repository,    and    obtained    about    two 
huudred  volumes  more.     Among  the  treas- 
ures of   these   several   importations    wc.e 
the  Ignatian  Epistles  before  referred  to,  and 
also  a  number  of  MSS.,  which  were  edited 
by  ^Ir.  Cureton,  and  published  in  London, 
in  1S4R,  under   the  title  of  "The   Festal 
Letters  of  .Vthanasius.   discovered    in  c.s, 
ancient  Syriac  Version."     In  the  preface  to 
this  edition  of  the  Syriac  text,  Mr.  Cureton 
expressed  the  wish  that  some  scholar  might 
be  found  "  in  some  other  country  where  this 
branch  of  literature  is  more  encouraged," 
who  wciuld  undertake  to  present  the  book 
in  a  modern  dress.     From  only  one  laud 
could  this  appeal   be    answered,  as  it  has 
been    in    ''Die    FfM-lirie/e    dee    I£ci/i(j(.i 
Athrmaiiius,    oku    dem    SyrUchcn    iihcrfttU  « 
xmd    durch   uiimerlcniif/oi    erhintcii    voii    F. 
Larzow."  (Ticipzig,  1^.">2.  pp.  15(5.)     It  may 
be  hoped  that  we  shall  now  soon  have  the 
work  done  into  English. 

We  have  received  Tart  I.  of  Dr.  Julius 
FUrst's"//.^/^AuW<f»  v.  Chah'.uuchr:,,  Uand- 
xnrrtrrhurhuUrd.AUc  lUtimcnt."  (Leipzig, 
Tauehnitz.)  The  whole  work  is  to  be  com- 
pleted in  six  p.irts  of  alwut  the  size  of  the 
present  (17G  pp.),  and  is  sold  at  the  very  lo-v 
jiriee  of  75  cents  each  i)art,  so  that  the  w  hole, 
when  completed,  will  not  cost  in  this  coun- 
try more  than  ?4  M.  The  paper  and  priut^ 
are  the  best  we  have  yet  seen  in  a  work  o. 
this  class. 

Thk  "lirvue  do  Th,o!..iil-.  et  li:  PhL'.y- 
,oph;e  Chritlcnac''  (I'arisi  for  .T.ily.  l-.L. 
emitains  an  article  on  the  Epistle  ,o  th. 


156 


■anj  and  Religious  Intelligence.         [January, 


Hebrews,  maintaining  the  hvpolhcsis  that 
the  Epistle  v.as  written  by  Apollo?,  anil  de- 
signed for  the  use  ol'.lev,  isli  Christians  in 
general,  and  fi>r  tlio,o  of  Corinth  in  par- 
ticular. The  romaininn;  aiticles  are  on 
Method,  and  on  Sin  and  Expiation— the  lust 
arguin,:,'  that  RegeneratioTi  includes  Juiti- 
fieation. 

"  AurjHit  Ncandcr:  cin  liiltrnij  xu  muur 
Ohnmcteristifc,  von  Dr.  Otto  KuAiuii:.  Pro- 
fessor zu  Kostoek."  (Hamburg,',  IS'C',  Svo., 
pp.  174.)  This  work  is  rejirintcd  from  the 
Zeitblatt  fiir  die  Lutherisdic  Kircho  Meck- 
lenburgs,  in  whieli  it  a])peared  in  a  series 
of  articles  last  year.  After  a  pretty  full 
account  (all  the  notices  arc  ineajrre)  of 
his  childhood,  youth,  and  education,  Dr. 
Krabbe  gives  a  discrirninatinsr  view  of 
Neandtr  as  a  teacher  and  author,  poin^' 
into  a  careful  analysis  of  his  mode  of 
thought  and  of  his  various  ^ritinrrs.  'i'lie 
account  of  Xeander's  relations  to  his  pupils 
and  of  the  many  ways  in  which  his  love 
flowed  out  to  them,  is  very  touching,'.  The 
book  is  a  valuable  addition  to  the  materia! 
cxtiint  for  a  biography  of  the  great  Church 
historian. 

The  second  part  of  Bnumrjnrtcn'ii  Aponirf- 
grorJilchfc  (llalle,  1S.'">2,  Svo."  pp.  :i:;S)  treats 
of  "the  Church  amon^;  th.'  Ccntilo,"  and 
carries  down  tlii'i-onnni-ntary  upnii  th.;  .\its 
to  the  iMh  chapter. 

We  have  received  the  first  ni:ni'>tT  of 
Barling's  "  CyclopniUn  inhU«.jraj>h:ra.''  t.r 
Library  ^Manual  of  Theological  and  (Icm  r.ii 
Literature.  The  work  will  be  of  gn'at  st-r- 
vice  to  "  authors,  preach.ers,  student-;.  Ac," 
to  v\hoJu  it  is  specially  addressrd.  Coiild 
it  come  up  to  the  promise  of  the  puMi-!ur, 
and  "comprise  nearly  all  authors  ot  \\\<U\ 
ancient  and  modern,  in  Tln'ob.gy,  i;  elo- 
siastical  History,  Monil  rhilos.-.piiy,  lU-.." 
it  would,  indeed,  sujiply  a  vast  want.  I'.ut 
the  promise  is  absurd— and  tlic  lirst  number 
is  enough  to  show  that  it  cannot  U'  t'ul.'ilKd 
with  any  such  mat-rial  as  Mr.  Darling 
seem.s  to  have  at  eonimand.  The  altem[)t 
to  combine  '•(lumral  Literature"  with 
Thodogy,  in  a  bibliograjdiy  in  two  volnnKS. 
giving  the  contents  of  each  volume,  is 
tnough  to  wake  the  whole  entcrpris..- brcik 
ilov.n.  What  will  be  accomj)li.-lud  is,  we 
think,  about  this  :  the  work  will  fnriii.<h  a 
Rood  index  to  the  \>ritings  of  the  chief 
Eugli-,h  Theological  vvritvrs,  and  also  of 
the  (ireck  and  Latin  lathers.  I5y  doing 
even  this,  Mr.  Darling  will  lay  all  theo- 
logians   and    students    under    very    great 


obligations  to  him  :  ami  he  should  have 
promised  no  more. — The  work  will  be 
published  in  monthly  numbers. 

Wh.vt  the  Pinits  and  Daniels  of  the 
seventeenth  century  failed  to  do — to  answer 
rascal's  Provincial  Letter? — has  been  at- 
temjited  by  a  .fcsuit  of  the  nineteenth, 
iiicitcd,  no  doubt,  by  the  recent  revival  of 
attenti.>u  to  rascal's  writings.  The  title  of 
the  nd\vnluri>us  book  is  "  i^f  Prorlnciahs, 
ft  Ifiir  J!r/,itfttu,n,  j,rir  M.  V Ahhe  MAYXAUn." 

(Paris,  1  vols.,  Svo.)  M.  Maynard  gives  a 
new  edition  of  the  Provincials,  and  accom- 
panies it  with  A  comment  intended  as  a 
refutation.  Its  procedure  is  curious — tirst, 
in  e.icli  jiaiticular  case,  to  deny  Pascal's 
cb.irgis  against  the  Jesuits;  then  to  aduiit 
them,  and  show  that  the  C/iurrh  is  re- 
spi>ii.-,illc  for  the  conduct  of  the  Jesuits,  as 
tbe  Jouits  are  the  very  closest  and  most 
obedient  followers  of  the  Church  I  The 
biK.k  «h.>ws  that  Jesuitism  is  now  just 
what  it  was  in  Pascal's  time — only  a  little 
worse. 

Om;  of  the  most  remarkable  and  signi- 
ficant books  lately  published  is  entitled 
"  »'^y">i>"lliir»  of  the  Cotiti'nvnf,  or  Proposnh 
for  a  n<-ir  Ihjormation,  by  J.  B.  Vox  HlR- 
\i\v\\,  I).  D.,"'translated  and  edited  by  Pvcv. 
A.  C.  ('..x.e.  (London,  J.  W.  Parker,  12mo.) 
Tiie  «rit' T  is  Professor  of  Theology  in  the 
kuiinn  Catholic  University  of  Freiburg, 
a;id  D-an  of  the  MetropoHtaa  Church  in 
t.*Mt  city.  That  the  lloman  Catholic  Church 
sadly  needs  reforming  is  what  all  the  world 
know., ;  but  the  significance  of  the  present 
announcem -nt  lies  in  the  fact  that  it  comes 
fr.'tn  a  ui  in  of  high  position,  character,  .and 
autliurlty  in  the  very  bosom  of  thatChurch. 
I)r,  Hir.-.ehcr  demands  that  the  prayer.s 
.shall  Ur  tran>lated  into  the  vernacular  ; 
th.il  the  forms  and  ceremonies  shall  be 
.=implitied  ;  that  the  forced  celibacy  of  the 
clergy  shall  be  abandmied,  itc,  ic.;— in 
short,  that  mast  of  the  peculiarities  of 
Uomish  ecelesiastieal  discipline  shall  be 
done  away.  Wo  hope  the  book  will  be 
8{)cedi!y  republi4ierl  in  this  country. 

"  IVirr  il'-n  Chnntlichtn  Bihlerlcrcis,  von 
Dr.  V.  PirKR."  (P.erlin,  1S32,  8vo.,  pp.  66,) 
i.s  a  survey  of  the  various  forms  of  Christian 
art  from  its  earliest  period  dowu  to  the 
sixteenth  century. 

TAfcitxn-/.,  of  Leipzig,  has  printed  a  very 
beautiful  edition  of  "  the  Paalmn,  Jlehrew 
and  Kur)liih,''  (LSmo.,  pp.  IW) — the  texts 
printed  lacing  each  other  on  oppoiite  pages. 


1853.] 


Theological. 


157 


Iixfsr«\Tio\s  of  the  scui)<l;\Ions  an  J  atro- 
cious way  ill  wliioU  the  ccolosiastical  wciilth 
of  droit  liritaiii  is  monopolized  bj  certain 
clerical  I'.ituilics  h:ivo  abounded  of  late. 
<>iio  of  the  iu'1-.t  romarkaI>!e  is  the  case  of 
I  he  H-if.fn  In  Iikhtu-'l  and  Gconjc  Preti/iii'iii, 
»')in  of  the  late  iiishop  of  Lincoln.  The 
jinlty  rco.ird  is,  liriollj-,  as  follows: — 

"Tlie  Mere  Hospital  in    Lineohishhe  is 
chtirttTod  « ith  ci^'ht  hundroj  .i!ul  soventy- 
f...ur  a.-rcs  of  land,  fi.r  the  perpetual  suppoi-fc 
nul  cniplcte  mainteuance  of  thirtc-eu  po  )r 
[>■  lions,  anil  of  the  ehaplain  therein  minis- 
I-;r;n-.     In  ISIT,  the  then  bishop  aj.pointed 
hi'!  s.in  Richard  as  chaplain,  who,  two  years 
nfter.  [rrantcd  a  lease  of  the  hospital  land, 
n-serving  the  old  rent  of  £^2.  but  takiuir  a 
fin,'  of  more  than  £0: XX:).    In  1S26  and  is5.5, 
be  AXMi   renewed  the  le.ise    for  fines  of 
Xi'-H)  and  X"17tL>  10..,  all  of  which,   like 
his  pn-Jecessors,  he  kept  himself,  besides 
fT.'U  f.ir  timber.     The  report  adds,   that 
out  of  the  £>,1  he  kejit  £S  himself,  and  aji- 
jiHed  the  rest  to  the  use  of  *i>  poor  persons 
that    the  bnildin-s   of   the   hospital    had 
cea-ed  to  exist,  tiiat  no  duties  were  per- 
formed bv  him,  and  tliat  the  annual  value 
of  tlio  ^lere  lands  was  more  than  £V2m 
In  the  same  year  (IS17)    this  gentleman 
was  appointed  bv  his  father,  thou<:h  bound 
to  minister  in  the  Hospital  of  Mere,  to  a 
canonrv  residentiary  in  Lincoln  Cathedral 
oflicially  valued  at  £\m'),  and  also  to  tlie 
lireooiit.irship.  returned  at  £1S4.  but  havin- 
attaclied  to  it  the  rectory  of  Kilsby  over 
the  Tunnel,  with  tithe^s  upon  iMOi/  acres 
poramntc-d  for  land,  and  therefore  not  worth 
less  than  XC:i-..    In  the  same  year  his  father 
also   bestowed  upon   liim    tlie   rectory    of 
Walyrave-cnm-Harrim^ton,   endowed   with 
U'i)  acres  of  land,  and  money  pavm-nts  a 
.onse  U-si-les,  and  therefore  wortli  not  less 
th:ui  XIUKJ.     Ine  produce,  tlien,  of  thes.^ 
throe  olBces  in  the  thirtv-throe  years  must 
have  iven  i:i(r,,(jO();  but  in  18!:>,  the  year 
o.  his  X'.KJJVl  fine,  his  father  a^ain  me^elitcd 
hitn  vMth  the  rectory  of  .Stone v  MiddleLni 
•-•ommuicd  at  £\:V>  10,.;  and"  inl-^T,   he 
•yt.in.ed  from  the  Bisliop  of  Winchester 

n',',t,"^^i!■^-^^'''"•■>'  ^^  ^V-rou-hton,  com- 
muted at  £.,,0.  The  annual  value,  then,  of 
a.s  olnirch  preferment  is  not  less  than 
■I  V  ■".  and  the  proceeds  durinL'  the  tenure 
t-f  It  umonute.l  to  no  less  than  i;i.}t,7[)4  )..<- 
.jd-s  the  £1?,,7(X)  obtiiuod  by  anticipaiin- 
.ho  rov..„ues  of  the  Mere  Hospital,  Aisin? 

lu- ; :  ,•  r,"!':''\''^^"  fnsoo...  as  tor  hi^ 

«rvi  .It  ^^  ^'^'-^  ""'  performed  any 
«  ru,-.,  ;u  the  Hospital.  V.-rouditon  rectory 

d.  .'i  s^r    ;  "'  l"">'"t'H-.  I'e  replied  :   -  MV 

;'n:;:-L::;;'V^|;^'j;^-"l  the  choir,  andi 

Ih.-,,    a,    t.;  his    J,rother.    th^   Rc-cr.nd 


cellorshlp,  too,  returned  at  £28t  a  vear 
but  prob  il)ly  worth  £0:^5,  as  it  has  attached 
to  It  the  prebend  of  Stoke,  and  the  per- 
petual curacy  of  Xettleham,  a  parish  o*" 
3284  acres,  with  tithes  commuted  for  land 
and  money  payment.  In  the  same  vea^ 
he  became  rector  of  Wheathampstead-Jura- 
Harpendcn,  with  tithes  commuted  for 
i.T.jlil,  and  therefore  worth  at  least  £IG'». 
rnakini:  with  the  cauonrv  and  precentor- 
shil)  £M'\KJ  a  year,  and  pro'duciir'  in  tliirtv- 
ciqht  years,  at  least  £U4,rK)().°  In  im;^ 
when  Richard  became  chaplain,  canon! 
precentor.  A'c.,  Georje  was  presentee!  in  Ms 
father  with  the  rectory  of  Chalfont  St.  tiile's 
commuted  for  £S.I4  ;  and  iu  Isi'.,  when 
Rich,ard  got  the  sinecure  rectory  in  Wilts, 
George  stepped  into  a  stall  at  Winchener,' 
not  quite  a  sinecure,  of  £tU2  a  vear.  These 
two  additions  raise  the  annual  incjm.-'  of 
his  preferment  to  f.-.iMO,  and  the  j.ro.'ceds 
during  his  term  of  it  to  about  £l0<.l,txx\ 
wiuch^  with  his  brother's  fUS.oW,  makes 
£333,o;X)  for  the  pair.  Nor  is  this  all: 
for  as  precentor  and  chancellor  they  are 
patrons  of  six  or  seven  small  benefices 
which  may  be  useful  as  compensations  for 
curates,  "invidiously  called  workiii?;"  and 
besides,  as  eanons"of  Lincoln  and  Win- 
chester, they  have  a  share  in  corporate 
patronage  of  greater  value.  Thus.  ti;e 
Chapter  of  Lincoln  are  patrons  of  (ireat 
Carltou.  value  X.-.Tl,  to  which,  in  IS 44,  a 
son  of  George  was  appointed,  upon  whose 
death,  it  fell  to  another  son,  iu  I80O." 

"\^  E  are  glad  to  see  announced  as  nearly 
ready,  (in  one  volume,  small  4to.,)  "John  d'e 
Wiclif,  D.  D. :  A  Monograph,  with  some 
Account  of  the  AVicIif  .^ISS.  in  Osfurd, 
Cambridge,  the  British  :Museum,  Lamlieth 
Palace,  and  Trinity  College.  Dublin.  Bv 
Robert  Vaughan,  D.  D."  This  work  will 
include  all  the  original  material  in  a  work 
published  by  the  author  more  than  twenty 
years  since;  but  in  the  present  volume  the 
subject  has  been  wholly  recast,  and  in  every 
part  rewritten,  under  the  lights  supplied 
by  much  subsequent  study  aiid  research. 
This  volume  is  also  illustrated  with  a  Series 
of  EngTaviugs,  from  Drawings  taken  at 
Wiclif  and  Lutterworth;  and  v.ith  a 
highly-finished  Portrait  of  the  Reformer, 
from  the  Original  Painting  by  Sir  Antonio 
3Iore,  now  an  h<;ir-loom  in  the  Rectory  of 
Wiclif. 

Lettei:  fuom  Puofessor  J.\coijr. 

P.F.RUX,  October,  lS-">-. 
The  Chi.r^dc  of  Pni.^ia. 
New  dilfieulties  have  arisen  in  the  Estab- 
lished Church  of  Prussia,  IVom  certain  de- 
crees of  the  authorities,  ruccntly  pissed, 
which  are  sup])osed  to  Lear  liardly  ui»-)u 
more  than  cue  of  the  parties  into  which  the 


158 


Lilcrarij  and  Religious  InteUigence.         [Januaiy 


Church  is  divided.  As  I  cannot  FUpposo 
that  my  American  readers  are  f,imili;\r 
■with  the  present  oriranization  of  tlic  Pru-- 
sian  Church,  and  with  all  the  steps  th.it 
have  led  to  it,  a  brief  account  of  thi.^c  may 
perhaps  not  be  out  of  place  in  this  letter. 

Of  the  seventeen  millions  of  inhabitants 
of  the  kingdom  of  Prii^^ia,  about  ten  mil- 
lions are  Protestants,  nearly  one-fifth  of 
vhom  are  Eeformed,  and  the  remainder 
Lutherans.  The  reijruing  house  has  be- 
longed to  the  PLeformed  confession  ;  and  its 
princes  lonij  ago  fonned  the  desire  to  bring 
about  a  union  between  the  Reformed  and 
Lutheran  branches — at  least  a  union  in  doe- 
trine  and  usage — to  such  an  extent  as  that 
the  two  confessions  might  agree  to  form  one 
Church.  Various  measures  designed  to 
accomplish  this  object  v.erc  taken  in  the 
seventeenth  and  eighteenth  centuries,  but 
they  were  ill  ad.\pted  to  the  end,  sometimes 
even  implying  the  use  of  force,  and  no  sub- 
stantial residt  was  achieved.  r)Ut  the  de- 
velopments of  the  Ia=t  century  of  theology 
removed  many  of  the  difhculties  out  of  the 
way,  and  seemed  to  make  what  was  before 
impracticable  now  comparatively  an  easy 
t.isk.  Rationalism,  which  had  nothing  in 
common,  at  least  in  its  basis,  with  the  Re- 
formed or  the  Lutheran  Confessions,  v,as 
either  indiflerent  to  both,  or  opposed  both. 
The  seientitie  and  Wirrinfj  theobv'y  which 
subsequently  took  the  place  of  Rati(.na!i-ni, 
and  which  now  takes  the  lead  in  tlsc  tlu-.>- 
logical  culture  of  Germany,  harmonizes  in 
substance  with  the  Confessions  that  grew 
out  of  the  Reformation;  but  distingui-hes 
between  the  essential  points  in  ^\hic!i 
those  confessions  are  at  one  and  the  cmi- 
paratively  unessential  matters  about  v.  hieh 
they  differ.  A  standpoint  has  been  gained 
by  theologians  and  by  many  men  of  gem  r.il 
scientitio  culture,  from  which  the  K\aii- 
gelical  doctrines  in  the  Confessions  are  ^^  ell 
defined  and  preserved;  allowing,  at  the 
same  time,  freedom  of  opinion  as  to  the  hss 
important  dogma';.  The  tendency  to  con- 
ciliation and  union  was  also  increased  by 
the  newly  awakem-d  religious  fi-eling  w liich 
sprung  i!p  in  Citrmany  more  than  thirty 
years  aeo,  undir  the  influence  of  various 
movements  of  Divine  Pr<>vi<lence,esi.ecially 
the  diliverance  cf  (Jermany  from  tin-  3-oke 
of Xaiiolenii — wluchrecLivcda  mw  impulse 
from  the  Reformation-.Tubilee  of  1^17,  and 
has  been  greatly  fostered  by  the  labours  of 
the  University  \Tofessors.  ^Ii-n  inspired 
by  a  new  love  and  fresh  enthusiasm  for  the 


gospel  of  Christ,  were  disposed  rather  to 
bury  all  minor  j)oints  of  difference  than  io 
make  them  prominent.  It  was  in  presence 
of  such  a  state  of  things,  and  under  the 
confidence  which  it  generated,  that  tho 
jiious  monarch  t'rt.'derick  William  IlL  de- 
termined, in  1 S17,  u[ion  a  new  ecclesiastical 
order,  to  bring  about  the  long-desired 
T'nion,  or,  at  Kast,  to  lay  a  foundation  fi.r  it. 
The  idea  of  the  jilan  was,  that  Lutherans  anil 
Reformed  should  \ic  (ji-mlunUy  incorpor.'.ted 
into  one  Church  communion,  in  which  the 
do.'mas  and  institutions  about  which  they 
ditfered,  and  v.-hich  kept  them  apart,  should 
find  no  pltice.  Tliere  was  to  be  a  ci^mmon 
Church  government,  and  also  a  community 
in  the  Lord's  Supper,  in  such  a  way  that 
an  adherent  of  the  Reformed  Confession 
might  partake  of  the  communion  in  a 
Lutheran  Church,  or  vice  versa,  without 
giving  up,  either  in  form  or  substance,  his 
own  peculiar  fellowship.  l'niform.ity  of 
Divine  wor>!iip  was  to  be  secured  by  a 
common  Liturgy,  called  the  Arjcnda  of  the 
Evan','ilical  Established  Church  of  Prusfia. 
by  which  name  the  united  communion  was 
designated.  This  Liturgy  adhered  rather 
to  the  words  of  the  Bible  than  to  dogma- 
tical language  in  its  forms  for  the  admin- 
istration of  the  Lord's  Supper.  In  all  the 
Churches  which  adopted  the  Union,  the 
Ai'ii'l'-  was  introduced  of  course;  and,  on 
the  utlur  band,  most  of  the  Churches  which 
ad,np;.d  tl:e  A-i-ndc  sanctioned,  or  at  least 
favoured,  the  Union  likewise.  Another  step 
was,  to  demand  of  all  new  candidates  for 
the  ministry  a  written  adhesion  to  the 
principK-s  of^  the  Union. 

The  resu.lt  of  those  measures  has  been 
the  estiibli-hment  of  the  LTnion  iu  by  far 
the  greater  jiart  of  the  Prussian  monarchy. 
P.ut  it  nnt  with  decided  opposition  from 
individual  Lutheran  ministers  and  Church- 
es, esjiccially  in  Silesia.  These  parties 
have  not  been  always  treated  with  the 
leniency  and  toleration  that  evangelical 
wiMlnm  would  dictate,  and  which  were 
contemplated  in  the  origin  of  tho  plan  of 
Union.  In  f.n  oiu-,  however,  of  those  Lu- 
therans who  were  unwilling  to  abate  any- 
thing from  the  sharply-detiued  precision  of 
dogmatical  language  in  the  Liturgical 
fonus.  a  royal  decree  of  l^^A  declared  that 
it  was  not  the  design  of  the  Union  to  ab- 
rogate the  existing  Confessions;  but  that, 
under  a  common  Church  government,  the 
adherents  of  neither  should  refuse  partici- 
pation iu  the  Lord's  Supper  to  those  of  the 


1853.] 


Theological. 


159 


other.    Hut  this  mcKlificatiou  of  the  idea 


.     ^    .  .^  by  the  ecclesiastical  authorities  towards 

•f  the  I  in..i.  did  not  affect  the  practical  the  dissolution  of  the  Union.  Bv  this  decree 

partof  thediliiculty;  forthe.lyfWc.  was  the    so-called     UU-rkirchrnraih,    (Suprt-me 

UiU   m.iiatu.iKd,   and   to   be   maintained.  Consistory,)   «hich  ori"inated  in  l-,i7    is 

The  reMik  of  the  Mhole  was,  that  part  of  organized"  anew,  with  the  pnrposo  of  with- 

em.grated ;    and    a  drawing  the  niana^-cment  fin  substantial 


thf   ktrici    Lutheran; 
jnjrtioii  of  those  who 


:rnaiued,  separated 
from  the  Liiitcd  Church,  and  formed  a 
di^t!nct,  ciimmuijion — the  so-called  Old 
Liiihrniin.  fixing  their  ecclesiastical 
Centre  ai  lUcslau.  they  formed  a  new  Chief- 
C'oiisi>[oiy,  adopted  a  Liturgy  of  their  own, 
niid  fr.(m>.-d  a  strict  and  severe  Church- 
lUiciiilinc.  They  have  many  congreya- 
ti.ms  in  I'omorania,  and  one  also  in  the  city 
of  Jlcrlin. 

liut,  k-jides  tltis  external  defection,  two 
parties  also  Lave  been  developed  within 
the  bosom  of  the  Union  itself:  one  of 
which  parties  aixays  itself  under  the  de- 
cree of  1SI7,  which  places  the  Union  in 
the  c'/ii.»..(tyi(«  of  the  two  confessions  ; 
while  the  other  adopts  more  strictly  the 
Tjow  of  the  decree  of  1S34,  which  admits 
these  confessions,  and  especially  that  of 
Augsburg,  in  all  points.  It  is  clear  that 
the  more  logically  this  latter  theory  is 
carried  out,  the  more  difficult  it  will  be  to 
maintain  the  life  of  the  Union;  and,  ac- 
cordingly, the  Eaingfllaclie  KircheiacUung, 
which  maintains  this  theory  to  the  utmost, 
di5]ilays  coiistaiitly  an  increasing  aliena- 
tion froni  the  L" lilted  Church.  luPonierania, 
a  j.arty  was  formed  on  the  platfonu  of  the 
Liithfiytn  constitution  and  liturcy  ex- 
clusively. At  its  head  stands  the  Jurist 
Giiochd,  \,  ell  known  for  his  piety  and  erudi- 
tion, and  ciinally  well  known  for  his  coiiju- 
4ioa  of  mind.  Goschel  deems  it  nece.-sary 
that  the  Lutheran  party  should  separate 
completely  a;id  absolutely  from  the  Re- 
fomicd.  and,  at  the  same  time,  believes  it 
poisibli 


affairs)    of  the   Kstablished  Church  from 
the    royal    ministry,    and    placing    it    in 
the  hands  of  imrely  ecclesiastical  author 
itics.     Its  members  in  future  may  \,^  either 
Lutheran  or  Keformed,  with  the  sole  con- 
dition  that  they  will  not  refuse  obedience 
to  a  Church  government  placed  above  hotL 
denominations.    And  so  the  coiumon  par- 
ticipation in  the  Lord's  Supper  is  at  an 
end:    Lutheran  clergymen  are  again  jxir- 
mitted  to  reject  Ileformed  Christians  from 
the  altar,  and  the  Union  subsists  only  in 
the  common   Supreme   government.    The 
very   large   party   of  those    who   are   not 
strictly  attached  to  either  the  Lutheran  or 
the  Reformed  Confession,  but  take  tlieir  po- 
sition on  theec««,i««.»of  the  two,  is  not  le 
gaily  represented  in  the  Consistory,  though 
it  is  not  without  friends  in  that  body.     To 
this  party  belong  most  of  the  prominent 
scientilic  theologians  of  the  present  time, 
and  nearly  all  the  theological  i^rofessors  in 
the  kingdom.    The  Theologic;il    Faculties 
of  Halle  and  Koiiigslxng,  ^vith  many  of  the 
Professors  at  Bonn  and  Greifswalde,  as  also 
many    clergymen    and   educated    laymen, 
have  declared   their  noncoucurrence  with 
the  royal  edict,  and  demand,  at  least,  an 
official  representation  of  the  United  party 
in  the  Supreme  Consistory.    On  the  other 
hand,    the   strict  Lutherans  are  satisfied, 
because   a  stop  in   their  favour  has   been 
taken,  the  fruits  of  which  they  expect  to 
reap  by-aiid-by.    Like  the  Roman  Catholics, 
they   take   what  they  can  get  on  accuuiU, 
waiting  until  the  sixteenth  and  = 


,.,.,,  ^  " ^.^nteenth 

hic    T    .1       °-""'      V™  '""^  consistency  to      centuries  are  brought  back  a-ain.'    In  their 
his    Luthcrauism    by    means    of    Ile^el' 


,  means 
Pajifhcistic  philosophy.  His  pliilosophico- 
thtoloi,'ical  v.ritings— models  of  confused 
thon-ht  and  clumsy  expression— are  hardly 
nitelligiblo  to  Germans,  mueh  less  to  fo- 
reigners. This  party,  partly  from  personal 
I.references,  and  partly  from  a  notion  that 
Jhe  dcstrueti\e  sj.irit  of  the  times  can  but 
U- tu>t  by  strengthening  the  autliority  of 
Ihv  Luihrran  Confession  and  of  the  pastoral 
^.lice.  has  gained  over  many  men  of  in- 
nuence  and  character,  both  among  clcr-y 
and  laity.  °  •' 

A  reeent  royal  order,  issued,  perh.aps,  to 
lu.ct  f)!o  ^  .-hes  and  demands  uf  this  party, 
n>ay  bo  considered  as  the  first  step  take'n 


zeal  for  an  unadulterated  Lutheran  Church, 
they  put  minor  and  trifling  matters  before 
the  existence  of  the  United  Church.  A\'hat, 
they  u-!/l  accomplish,  will  be,  not  a  Church, 
but  a  sectarian  party.  As  for  culture  and 
learning,  they  have  so  little  of  it  that  in 
that  respect  we  can  only  look  for  a  para 
lytic  life  among  them. 

Thus  the  recent  decrees  are  Iriuging 
about  a  crisis.  The  decision  may  n"t  bf 
very  remote  ;  but  it  v.IIl,  without  doiiht. 
be  preceilcd  liy  very  \iolent  commotions. 

The  Jesuits  in  Prmgi'i. 

The  greater  freedom  in  religioim  move 

ments  which  r.-sulted  from  the  convulsious 


160 


Literary  and  Religious  Intelligence.         [January, 


of  1843,  was  promptly  maJoi  use  of  by  tbe 
Jews  .ind  the  Romanists  to  advance  their 
respective  interests.  The  Church  of  Rome 
has  exerted  herself  in  the  last  four  years 
in  Germany,  and  especially  in  Pnissia,  with 
far  more  than  her  wonted  energy.  The 
soil  of  Braiidenburij  is  considered  by  Car- 
dinal Wiseman  and  his  confederates  as 
"  the  last  bulwark  of  Protestant  heresy." 
And  justly  :  for  where  on  the  continent  of 
Europe  could  a  strong  stand  be  made  for  a 
Protestant  Church,  with  extent  enou;,di  to 
command  respect,  if  PiivssrA  should  be 
yielded  up  ti.>  the  Pope?  Hence  the  new- 
born activity  of  the  Jesuits  in  Prussia — the 
new  and  restless  zeal  for  jiroselytlng- — the 
building  of  schools  and  churches — the  re- 
establishment  of  orders  and  monasteries. 
The  "  Sisters  of  Charity,"  whose  self-sacri- 
ficing labours  in  so  many  places  have 
commended  them  to  the  good-will  of  Prot- 
estants, but  who  so  generally  only  form  au 
eutering  wedge  for  other  and  very  ditferent 
Romanist  orders,  are  especially  active  in 
Berlin.  A  new  cburch,  and  a  new  hospital 
of  ample  dimensions,  are  soon  to  be  erected. 
But  the  hopes  of  Rome  in  this  age  rest 
mainly  on  the  Jesitts.  They  are  the 
special  champions  of  the  faith  against  In- 
fidelity ;  and  to  them  is  intrusted  the  task 
•if  gaining,  if  possible,  the  education  of 
the  rising  generation  of  Germans.  They 
have,  within  the  last  few  years,  conducted 
numerous  "  Missions,"  not  only  in  Southern 
und  Western  Germany,  but  also  in  many 
provinces  of  Prussia.  The  government, 
however,  in  allowing  these  public  Missions, 
has  restricted  them  to  such  plaies  and 
districts  as  have  already  a  preponderating 
Roman  Catholic  population.  In  order  not 
to  alarm  the  Protestants,  the  first  stej's  of 
the  Jesuits  were  very  careful  and  humble  ; 
their  only  objects  were  to  "confirm  their 
Churches  " — to  "  stir  up  their  own  people  ;" 
by  uo  means  "  to  carry  on  a  polemic  w;U'- 
faje againstProtestantism."  So,even Pather 
Haslacuek,  who,  in  Catholic  Ridcn,  had 
commanded  his  i>eo]>le  to  throw  the  Pibles 
given  them  by  Proti-stauts  into  the  fire,  was 
very  prudent  and  careful  when  he  came  to 
Dantzic.  Here  and  there,  however,  the 
lanaticism  which  is  native  to  the  Jesuit 
.■system  ha,s  broken  ou  t ;  and  the  confessional 
has  been  made  great  use  of,  esjiecially  with 
regard  to  mixed  marriages,  for  the  dis- 
paragement and  injury  of  Protestantism. 
It  would  bo  supposed  that  none  but  men 
eminent  for  pulpit  ability  among  the  Jesuits 


would  be  sent  upon  these  "Missions," 
which  consist  in  protracted  religious  ser- 
vices, embracing,  sometimes,  several  ser- 
mons a  day,  for  several  days  together ;  but 
it  is  generally  thought  that  none  of  them, 
in  point  of  pulpit  force  and  eloquence, 
approach  to  our  best  preachers — such,  for 
instance,  as  Kucmmacher.  Their  ser- 
mons are  aimed  generally  at  special  sins 
and  faults,  and  are  so  thoroughly  extrmal 
in  their  character  that  no  evangelical 
Protestajit  could  find  any  food  in  tiiem. 
Perhaps  the  chief  result  of  these  "  Missions" 
is  that  which  the  Jesuits  least  intended: 
their  history  and  fruits  are  so  well  remem- 
bered by  the  German  people,  that  their 
recent  irruption  has  united  all  classes  of 
Protestants  in  one  compact  body  against 
them.  The  Supreme  Consistory  embraced 
the  occasion  to  order  a  general  collection 
to  be  taken  up  in  the  difi'erent  Cliurehes, 
for  the  double  purpose  of  aiding  scattered 
and  extended  jiarishes  to  sujiport  assistant 
pastois.  and  to  send  forth  travelling 
preai-hers  to  revive  the  Christian  life  in 
the  various  congregations.  The  collections 
have  gone  beyond  all  expectation,  and  still 
larger  returns  are  expected  for  the  next 
year.  The  men  chosen  for  travelling 
jireachers  will  be  chiefly  those  who  have 
the  gift  of  earnest  speech,  and  v\ho  are 
endowed  with  that  spiritual  vnctlo-.i 
which  !iw;t',;i-ns  religious  feeling  even  in 
slumbering  Cl>.ristians— men,  in  short,  of 
the  Methodistic  type.  They  are  to  Labour 
in  connexion  with  the  regular  pastors  in 
their  several  congregations. 

These  Jesuit  Missions  have  already  given 
rise  to  an  extended  controversy.  On  the 
appearance  of  the  missionaries  in  Silesia, 
the  General  ."Superintendent  (Protestant)  of 
that  district.  Ihr.  Haii.v,  felt  himself  bound 
to  issue  u  letter  of  warning,  in  which  he 
did  not  .~pcak  in  the  most  favourable 
terms  of  the  history  and  purjioses  of  the 
order  of  J., nits.  The  venerable  Diui-EX- 
EROCK,  Prince  liishop  and  C;u-dinal  in  Bres- 
lau,  felt  himsrlf  aggrieved  by  this  letter, 
aiul  Avrote  a  reply,  defending  the  Jesuits 
and  the  Church  of  Rome  against  Dr.  Hahn. 
Tlie  Supreme  Consistory,  deeming  silence 
on  its  part  no  longer  prudent,  issued  a  re- 
futation of  the  Cardinal's  letter.  Although 
this  contro'.ersy  was  iieee-;sary,  it  is  to  be 
regretted  that  it  should  have  arisen  with 
the  most  vcni Tabic  aud  wortliy  of  the  P..> 
man  Catholic  Bishops  in  Prussia.  Biefeu- 
brock  is  a  German  Fenelon,  and  has   the 


1653.] 


Theological. 


IGl 


love  of  many  Protestants,  \vho  lK;lieve  hlin 
to  be  itisjiireJ  with  the  common  Christian 
life.  Were  the  Jesuits  such  as  he  suijposes 
them  to  be,  tJu're  v  oulJ  be  no  call  to  oppose 
them;  but  he  juil-es  them,  not  by  what 
thci)  are,  but  by  what  he  is. 

Literature. 
It  is  a  happy  result  of  the  combination 
of  Chri-tiau  feeling  with  scientific  culture, 
that  I'lymrn  can  come  forth  with  theological 
works  laying  claim  to  learned  research. 
.Vu  iustauee  of  this  is  0'e.icJiicJttc  dcr  lie- 
format  ton  in  Schottland,  vtit  hcsonderer  Bc- 
rUckifichtifping  dcr  iti  ihr  sich  offcnl'nrcnden 
Kraft  OhrixtlicJicn  Glaubcni,  von  K.  G. 
vox  Ki.-Di.OFF.  (Berlin,  2  vols.)  Herr  von 
Kudlotl'  is  a  ilajor  General  in  the  Prussian 
service,  and  yet  has  not  only  the  ep.pacity, 
but  the  inclination  to  write  the  history  of 
the  Scottish  Pweformation,  after  an  indepen- 
dent stuily  of  the  sources  of  information 
on  thesuljcct.  As  the  title-page  indicates, 
he  treats  not  so  much  of  the  theological  con- 
troversies involved  as  of  the  Christian  life 
and  faith  of  the  Reformation,  and  his  work 
is,  tlierefore,  adapted  to  a  wide  circle  of 
readers.  Theology  is  a  professional  study  ; 
but  the  deeds  and  sufierings  of  the  defend- 
ers of  the  faith  are  a  precious  record  for 
the  edification  of  all  Christians.  A  good 
illustration  of  the  descriptive  power  of  the 
author  is  alFurded  by  the  following  brief 
extract  from  his  account  of  the  "  .Signing 
of  the  Covenant"  in  1G3S  : — 

"  The  question  no^v  arose,  w'ho  should 
first  sign  the  deed.  There  was  a  solemn 
pause:  each  seemed  to  consider  the  other 
more  worthy  to  put  his  name  /iz-sf  in  the 
list  of  signers  of  the  sacred  bond.  Finally, 
with  blow  and  majestic  step  a  venerable 
man  came  forth  :  it  was  the  aged  and  noble 
Karl  of  Sutherland,  who  sub.seribcd,  with 
trembling  baud,  the  bond  of  Scotland's 
covenant  with  God.  All  hesitation  was 
now  at  an  end.  Name  followed  name  iu 
■luiek  succ.ssion,  till  every  man  in  the 
assembly  had  svibscribed.  Then  the  solemn 
writing  was  taken  out  and  laid  ui)ou 
a  gravestone,  that  all  in  the  churchyard 
might  affix  their  signatures.  Ifere'the 
sc'-no  was,  if  possible,  more  affecting  than 
within  the  church.  Some  wept;  others 
broi<i'  forth  «ith  jubilant  shouts.  Some 
add-d^to  their  names  the  words,  'until 
dfVh;'  (.thirs  opened  their  veins  and 
sipied  th.'  bond  witli  their  life-blood, 
llic  »h.  •.(.  lari^'c  as  it  was,  was  soon  so  far 
covcn-d  with  nanu-s  that  many  had  to 
r^yn  ti  al  brcviuiions,  .and  at  lemrth  to 
miti.i  s.  until  not  oven  the  smallest  spot 
W.J  left  f..r  annth.r  mark...  When  all 
I'Jd  s!fc-n.-d,  th-y  raised  their  ri-ht  hands 


towards  heaven,  and  with  tearful  eves, 
called  God  the  Lord  to  witness  that  tliey 
would  not  forget  this  their  covenant." 

In  the  lieldof  Education,  a  valuable  work 
for  those  w  ho  would  w  ish  to  see  how  the 
English  School  system  appears  from  the 
German  point  of  view,  is  "Ihutiche  Ih-ir/e 
iiber  enf/Usche  Erzieliunj,  von  Dr.  L.  WiusE." 
(Berlin,  1SJ2,  pp.  211.) 

Yours,  J.  L.  Jacoi;i. 

Wf.  contintie  our  summaries  of  the  con- 
tents and  tendencies  of  theprincli<al  Theo- 
logical Journals,  abroad  and  at  home. 

The  Thcolo'jischc  Studicii  vnd  Kritikvn 
(Hamburg,  July,  1S52)  is  characterized 
by  the  British  Quarterly  as  follows  : — 

The  best  and  most  interesting  paper  is  a 
leading  article  by  one  of  tlie  editors  iIV. 
Ullmann)  on  "The  Essence  of  Christianity 
and  -Mysticism."  Dr.  I'lhnann's  book  on 
the  "Essence  of  Christianity"  has  been 
translated  into  French,  and  appears  to 
have  been  somewhat  roughly  handled  by 
Gasparin,  and  others,  in  several  of  the 
religious  periodicals  of  France.  The  author 
complains  that  he  has  been  misunderstood. 
or  misrepresented,  on  many  points,  and 
the  article  in  question  is  his  rejoinder  to  liis 
assailants.  The  emploj-mcnt  of  the  word 
essence,  at  all,  has  been  deemed  blame- 
worthy by  some  of  his  critics,  who  think 
they  ])erceive  therein  the  cloven  foot  of  that 
audacious  neology  which  receives  or  rejects 
in  Christianity  whatever  its  caprice  may 
determine,  lir.  Ullmann  aj)p?ars  to  ns  to 
intend  by  the  word  essence,  (  He.v^n,)  only 
what  we  should  probably  express  bv  some 
such  phrase  as  "  essential  characteristics." 

But  the  charge  most  strongly  urged  is 
that  of  mysticism.  That  tlure  is  not  a 
little  in  our  modern  sjiiritualisui  open  to 
this  accusation  is  un(|ue>ti.-inable.  We  are 
disposed  to  think  it  jirobable,  from  what 
we  know  of  his  other  writings,  that  Dr. 
Ullmann  may  not  have  rxpresscd  himself  on 
some  doctrinal  points  with  thatdetiniteness 
and  fulness  which  are  to  be  desired.  The 
German  tendency  to  give  even  more  than 
due  prominence  to  the  subjective  element 
in  religion,  and  the  national  habit  of  in- 
dulging in  a  mode  of  expression  rather 
vague,"  abstract,  and  periphrastic,  than 
truly  philosophical,  is  sutfiiiently  maiiife.-,t 
ill  his  writings.  But  in  his  remarks  on 
mystrei>m  in  general,  and  in  his  condciuu.i- 
tiou  of  FUnuuiu  as  a  mystic  in  i)articnlar. 
You  Ga^parill  ajipears  to  us  somewhat  de- 
ficient, both  ill  knowledge  of  the  sulject, 
and  in  fairness  of  sjiirit. 

Some  contusion  will  arise  at  times  \ntl\Q 
minds  of  laitrli^h  readers,  from  tiie  -let 
that  the  Germans  have  two  words  t-.r 
mysticism  while  we  h.ue  only  om-.  In 
Germany  Mntik  is  mysticism  i"  «  s:'"a] 
sense.     It  answers  to  what  we  should  una 


162 


Literary  and  Religious  Intelligence.         [January, 


sjiirituality,  experiinontal  relijrion,  or,  ac- 
oordinir  to  our  old  divines,  heart-work. 
It  ii  tlie  enemy  of  Kitunlism.  Formalism — 
of  nuro  Seliida-tieism.  Jlfijutirlmnus,  on 
tho  ciiiitrrtry,  denoted  the  corrnjition  or  ex- 
:i£,",'tiation  "of  .)fi/«tik.  This  i.s  our  word 
My.stici-m.  Tlie  two  are  distinyuished 
muL-Ii  as  we  distiiiuui>h,  in  common  usacrc 
spirituality  and  spiritualism,  roli!,'iou  and 
religionism,  piety  ami  pietism.  Hut,  iis 
the  adjectives  cannot  he  distinguished  as 
the  nouns  are,  the  ailviintage  lies,  mc 
think,  with  our  language,  and  the  CJernian 
jihraseology  on  the  snhjeet  is  ojien  to  a  I'on- 
fusion  from  which  we  are  free.  In  giving 
so  negative  a  definition  of  mysticisufas  he 
does, — -pri-iKnineing  it  sim[ily  the  rcfitulia- 
tion  of  dogma,  the  sul>:=tituli'>n  of  feeling 
for  truth,  cif  rational  Kgo,  or  the  emotional 
i:go,  for' the  authority  of  God.— >I.  Von 
Gasjmriu  has  shown  himself  too  partial  or 
too  hasty.  The  generalization  is  by  no 
means  so  easy.  No  one  who  has  studied 
tlie  phenomena  of  nix.-ticism, — that  strange 
tendency  which  Ims  produced  the  mo~t 
various  and  most  contrary  re:^ul^s — eneriry 
intense  and  absolute  inaction  :  Tit;\ns  and 
lotus-eaters— Egotheists,  Pantheists.  Nihil- 
ists,— the  rmbilicani  of  Mr.  Athos  and 
George  Fox,— the  Brethren  of  the  I'ree 
Spirit  and  Madame  Guyon, — at  once  the 
contiiuners  and  the  devotees  of  vision  and 
of  miraclf,  the  opposite  of  self-annihilation 
and  of  selfdeitication, — no  one  who  ha.s 
tjuestioued  these  motlev  shapes,  and  listen- 
ed to  the  IJabcl  of  theirdialecls,  can  imagine 
that  the  question  concerning  the  nature  of 
mysticism  can  be  settled  in  so  <iti'-hand  and 
curt  a  fa~hiiin.  Pr.  Ullmaun  knows  what 
•mysticism  has  been  far  bitter  th;in  bis 
reviewer.  The  latter  should  be  introduced 
to  Hugo  and  Richard  of  St.  Victor,  and  to 
ChancellorGerson,  countrymen  of  hisin  the 
twelfth,  thirteenth,  and  tiheenth  centuries, 
and  he  would  learn  that  nivstici.^m  allied 
itself  in  them  with  th:it  antauduist  scholas- 
ticism, against  which  I'.t'rnard  enlisted  it — 
that  it  animated  and  iutcr]/en(tratrd,  in- 
stead of  rejiudiating,  ih>gina — gained  from 
the  schoolman  a  tungue,  and  ottered  in  re- 
turn a  heart.  Spirituality,  or  reliL'i<His  f.'cl- 
ing,  bec(mies  mysticism  when  it  a-:>erts  an 
indepeiulent  standing  for  itself,  apart  from 
iutLliigence,  or  moral  order;  when,  not 
content  with  being  a  ^lart,  it  arrogates  to 
itst  If  the  V.  hulo  of  religion.  It  does  so  also 
when  in  its  zeal  agaiu-,t  a  false  external 
authority  it  repudiates  the  true  :  when  feel- 
ing an.l  imjiulse  are  niade  an  insjtiratioii, 
and  the  zi-alot  reads  onlv  in  the  internal 
Bible  of  self-will  and  tlu/aiiocrvphal  book 
of  fancy.  My>ti.•i^m  lias  clustered  its 
luxuriance  e.-iircially  al<uut  the  u'reat  doiv 
triiie  of  the  union  of  the  believir  with 
Glirist.  It  has  lost  sight,  more  or  less,  of 
the  neces.-itv  of  n  Chri-t  /<./■  ns,  in  the 
cmphasi-  it  fias  laiil  on  a('hri-;t  in  tif.  Its 
error  in  this  respect  has  lain  in  making  the 
rnediuni  of  such  union,  not  faith,  but  in- 


tellectual intuition,  or  the  reverie  and  the 
tiractice  of  the  contemplative  ascetic.  It 
has  represented  this  union,  not  simply  as 
moral  or  spiritual^as  c^insistiug  in  a  life 
which  is  lived  by  perpetual  communication 
from  the  life  whicli  is  in  t'hrist — but  as  an 
essential  oneness  which  confounds  the^ 
divine  and  human  personality,  and  which' 
tends  to  obliterate  tlie  distinction  between 
the  sonship  of  Christ  and  the  sonslilp  of 
('hri>tians,  as  though  all  devout  or  thought- 
ful men  were  incarnations  of  the  Infinite. 
Hence  its  close  aflinity  with  pantheism. 
Thi-i  V  hole  tiucstion  concerning  the  nature 
of  mysticism,  is  one  of  great  and  growing 
importance.  It  reaches  far  beyond  am" 
pcr-onal  ili>pnte  between  a  German  and  a 
Freiich  divini',  and  in  this  broader  view 
Dr.  rilmann  has  treated  it  on  the  whole 
disj.a-sion.itidy  and  wiselv. 

The  III  xt  jiaper — "A  Word  on  the  Con- 
temjilation  of  Nature  from  the  Christologi- 
Ciil  ]>oii)t  of  View" — is  foolish  and  fanci- 
ful. Wu-  tiiought  it  had  been  left  to  Jacob 
r.chmiii  to  Mud  Christology  in  psychology, 
tluolo,-y  in  metaphysics,  and  divine  mys- 
teries in  natural  phenomena.  But  here  a 
Swiss  doctor  unintelligildy  teaches  how 
somnambulism  and  clairvoyance  are  ever 
recurring  types,  which  find  their  highest 
iiali/atiou  in  the  life  and  death  and  pro- 
phetic ollire  of  the  Son  of  God.  Mankind 
would  seem  never  to  be  cured  of  its  old 
mi-^takes.  l»ur  modern  theosophists  may 
have  a  little  more  science,  but  assuredly 
no  more  wi.-doni  than  the  old. 

The  "Life  of  Luther,"  illustrated  by  the 
ab!,'  disi'.'us  of  Kiinig,  with  accompanying 
b  it.r-|.nss  by  Gelzeii,  is  favourably'  re- 
^ '.''.'•"■'',•,  "'  '"^  "'^^  'I  ■^■<^'T  difterent  work, — 
"'Ihi-  Thoughts,  Kssavs.  and  ^laxims  of 
Joubirt."  Lechler's  '-rrize  Essay"  on 
tlie  apostolic  and  post-apostolic  aie.  is  no- 
ticed \.itli  deserved  approval.  Br.  Lechler 
ha-i  alr.-.idy  ni.ide  himself  fa\  ourabl v  known 
in  (l.riiiany  by  his  "History  of 'English 
1  Vi<m."  His  book  is.  in  fact,  a  refutation  of 
Baur  ami  theTiibingen  school  of  criticism. 

'J'liE  (}<:trjj,.r  number  of  the  same  jour- 
nal, contains  the  following  articles: — 
I.  The  Method  of  History  of  Doctrines, 
with  special  reference  to  the  recent  ex- 
jiositions  of  that  science,  by  Diirtenbach, 
of  WurtemlKTg  :  II.  The  Creation  :  an  es- 
say on  the  first  and  second  chapter 
of  Genesis,  by  J.  G.  Staib :  III.  The  Ee- 
formatory  an<l  ."Speculative  Eloments  in  the. 
tract  cntitlcil,  "Deutsche  Theologie,"  by 
I'llmann  :  IV.  The  Belation  of  Inspiration 
to  the  free  intellectual  activity  of  the 
Sacred  Writers,  by  A.  K.^ster,  of  Niissau  : 
V.  iVditzsch  on  Solomon's  Song,  reviewed 
by  I.  mbreit :  VI.  Ilitschl  on  the  Origin  of 
the  Ancient  Catholic  Church,  reviewed  by 
Btdepcniiing :  VIL  Jacobi's  Nntwlrh^\ 
und    G'.iitesleUn,   reviewed   by  AViichtler: 


1853.] 


Theological. 


163 


nil.  Elucidation  of  the  newly  revivefl 
claim  of  privnte  couftsdon  upon  the 
Ix.rd's Supper,  by  Siiskind,  of  Linlwigsbur^. 
K'"«stor's  Article  on  Inspiration  is  thus 
notiooil  in  the  IJritish  Quarterly  :— 

"  }Ie  has  a  theory  for  escaping  from  the 
dilKculty  in  reconciling  the  freedom  of  the 
g.u-n-d  writers  with  the  divine  influence 
imported  in  inspiration,  that  resembles 
tho-ie  medicines  which  remove  the  disorder, 
but  kill  the  patient.  He  supposes  that 
revelation  was  made  to  Abraham,  ^^loses. 
nnd  others,  not  of  doctrines,  Ac.,  but  of 
/ac/».  For  example,  Abraham's  couscious- 
siess  of  God  was  miraculously  elevated,  so 
that  he  concluded  God  entertained  for  him 
an  especial  love,  and  would  bless  his  soul ; 
and  tnus  the  promise  and  covenant,  made 
by  God,  are  to  be  understood  as  the  mere 
reflection  of  the  patriarch's  new  views  of 
the  divine  goodness.  The  '•  thus  saith  the 
Lord,"  throughout  the  Old  Testament,  is 
only  a  Hebrew-  mode  of  ex])ressing  the 
individual  conclusions  of  those  favoured 
jiersons  as  to  what  God  would  wish  done, 
or  would  do.  Moses  is  supposed  to  have 
derived  the  greater  portion  of  the  cerenio- 
nial  economy  from  Egypt ;  and  yet,  with- 
out any  culpable  fraud,  to  have  represented 
every  particular  as  according  to  a  jjattern 
divinely  given.  The  circumstances  attend- 
ing the  prescription  of  the  Pecalogue,  be- 
cause unfavourable  to  this  notion,  are  suj)- 
jwscd  to  be  the  relation  of  a  later  pen. 
J'he  fact,  that  a  man  had  attained  views  of 
the  divine  nature  superior  to  those  about 
him,  is  supposed  by  tlus  viriter  to  give  him 
a  warrant  for  issui;ig  commands,  an- 
nouncing doctrines,  and  predicting  the 
future,  as  he  sees  best ;  claiming  meanwhile 
for  every  separate  saying,  the  especial 
sanction  of  a  divine  injunction.  This 
Kotion  is  the  legitimate  issue  of  the  theory 
of  inspiration  propounde<l  by  Mr.  Morell, 
tn  his  "  Philosopliy  of  lUligiou."  Such  an 
hypothesis  says  liftle  for  their  sense  of  the 
demands  of  truth  who  can  maintain  it. 
Their  ethics  are  in  even  greater  disorder 
than  their  theolocrv." 

Proi>2>c'ttve  Becieic,  for  October:  —  I. 
Money  and  Morals :  II.  The  Eddas  :  III. 
Uncle  Tom's  Cabin :  the  iVesent  Conditiun 
and  Prospects  of  American  Slavery :  IV. 
Hartley  Coleridge's  Lives  of  the  Northern 
Worthies  :  V.  Lectures  on  Moral  Philosophy. 

Irixh  Qimrterly  jR,H-[rir,  for  September: 
—1.  Poets  of  To-day  and  Yesterdav  :  11.  The 
Streets  of  Dublin:  IIL  Italy' in  I'SIS: 
Hung.iry  in  .  l.'5.-,l ;  rV.  Pr.  Maginn  :  V. 
Arii,tu-  nnd  Industrial  Exhibitions:  VI. 
The  I'.r.hou  Law  CoBmiis:iion. 

Chriniv.n  U.-mc-mhnmr.r,  for  October:— 
\.  hU  Pie.ir.  r's  Voyage  to  Iceland  :  11.  Re- 
cent IVetry— Moir  uud  ll.M.le  :    HI.  Kloc- 


tion  of  Proctors  to  Convocation  :  IV.  Church 
Festivals  and  their  Household  Words: 
V.  Aehilli  r.  Newman  :  VI.  Study  of  Words: 
VIL  Japan,  Ac:  VIII.  Notices  of  New 
Books  and  Pamphlets. 

BrltM  QiiartrrJii  /^ccfVir,  for  October  :— 
I.  University  Reform  :  II.  French  Memoirs 
of  the  Age  of  Louis  XIV:  IIL  China— it^ 
Civilization  and  lleligion  :  R'.  ;Mure'5  His- 
tory of  Greek  Literature  :  V.  The  Theoloirv 
of  the  Old  Testament:  VI.  Sir  William 
Hamilton's  Philosophy  :  VIL  .Shakspeare 
and  Goethe  :  Wll.  The  Meeting  of  Convoca- 
tion :  IX.  Our  Epilogue  on  Affairs  and  Looks. 

EiitjUsh  Rcvicic,  for  October:— I.  rar!>- 
chial  Visitation  :  H.  Tyler's  Sermons  :  III. 
Practical  Working  of  the  Church  of  Spain  : 

IV.  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin  :  Negro  Slavery  in 
the  United  States :  V.  The  Church,  the  Gov- 
ernment, and  the  Elections  :  VI.  Murray's 
Horafian  Criticism:  VU.  Convocation: 
VIU.  Short  Notices  of  Piecent  Publications  : 
IX.  Foreign  and  Colonial  Intelligence. 

The  Quartfrly  Jievieir,  for  October:— 
I.  British  Bards  and  Stonehenfre  :  11.  loni.ui 
Islands:    HI.  .Salmon  :   TV'.  Dr.  Chalmers  : 

V.  Sindh:  VL  Lord  L.angdale:  \'n.  Gold 
Discoveries :  VIII.  Parliamentary  Prospects. 

Xorth  British  Bcvicir^  for  November  : — 
I.  Oxford  and  the  Royal  Commission :  II. 
The  First  French  Revolution  in  Chemistry  ; 
Lavoisier:  IIL  Tuscany  and  its  Grand 
Dukes:  IV.  Guizot  on  Shakspeare  and 
Comeille ;  French  Criticism  :  V.  The  In- 
fallibility of  the  Bible  and  Recent  Theories 
of  In-spiration  :  VI.  The  Diamond  ;  it- His- 
tory and  Properties  :  VII.  American  S'avtrv, 
Uncle  Tom's  Cabin:  VIII.  The  M-xlern 
Exodus  in  its  Effects  on  the  British  Islands. 
Wcntmimtcr  Bcvitic,  for  October  : — I.  The 
Oxford  Commission  :  11.  AMiewell's  >L.ral 
Philosophy:  IIL  Plants  and  Botanists; 
\\.  Our  Colonial  Empire :  V.  The  Philosophy 
of  Style:  VI.  The  Poetry  of  the  Anti- 
Jacobin  :  XTlI.  Goethe  as  a  Man  of  Science : 
VIIL  The  Profession  of  Literature  :  LX.  The 
Duke  of  Wellington:  X.  Contemporary 
Literature  of  England:  XL  Contemper.iry 
Literatui-e  of  America:  XII.  Conterapor..ry 
Literature  of  Germany :  XEH.  Contem].or.iry 
Literature  of  France. 

A.MOxa  the  books  in  Theology  and 
kindred  subjects  recently  announced  in 
Great  Britain  arc  the  following: — 

The  History  of  the  Christian  <  hurcL. 
Vol.  I.  The  Church  in  the  Ai-,-t..Iie  A-e. 
Bv  Henrv  W.  J.  Thiersch,  Dr.  >.i  l'!.ilo>ophv 


164 


Literary  and  Religious  Intelligence.         [January, 


and  Theology.  Translated  from  the  German 
by  Thomas  Carljle.  12iiio.  liOiulon,  Thos. 
Bosworth,  215  Regent-street : —  Dr.  Cum- 
niing's  Expository  Headings  in  the  Book  of 
Revelation.  Expositions  of  the  Chapters 
read  on  Sahhath  Evenings  in  the  Scottish 
Natioual  Church,  Crown  Court,  Covent 
Garden,  forming  a  continuous  and  complete 
Commentary  on  the  Apocalypse:  —  The 
Church  before  the  Flood  :  a  Series  of  Lec- 
tures on  the  Book  of  Genesis.  By  Rev.  John 
Gumming,  D.  D.  Uniform  with  "Apo- 
calyptic Sketches:"— -Memorials  of  Early 
Christianity:  presenting,  in  a  graphic, 
compact,  and  popular  form,  some  of  the 
Memorable  Events  of  Early  Ecclesiastical 
History.  By  the  Rev.  J.  G.  Miall,  Author 
of  "  Eoutsttps  of  our  Forefathers."  In  post 
8vo.,  with  Illustrations  : — The  Free  Church 
of  Ancient  Christendom,  and  its  Subjuga- 
tion under  Constantine.  By  Basil  11.  Cooper, 
B.  A.  12mo. : — The  New  Reformation  in 
Ireland  :  Interesting  Facts  and  Anecdotes, 
illustrating  the  Extent  and  Character  of 
the  Movement.  "With  a  Map.  By  the  Rev. 
Llewelyn  W.  Jones,  M.  A.,  Curate  of  Os- 
westry. In  fcp.  S\  0. : — The  Mission  and 
MartjTdom  of  St.  Peter ;  with  I'refatory 
Notices  by  the  Rev.  Dr.  Gumming  and  Rev. 
Dr.  M'Canl.  (This  work  gives  the  original 
Text  of  all  the  ancient  passages  supposed 
to  imply  St.  Peter's  Visit  to  Rome,  with 
comments  showing  that  there  never  was 
even  a  tradition  to  that  eficct.)  Svo. : — 
The  Lands  of  the  Messiah,  Mohammed,  and 
the  Pope,  as  visited  in  1S.")1.  By  J.  Alton, 
D.  D.,  Minister  of  Dolphinton.  1  vol.,  12nio. : 
— Sermons,  Doctrinal  and  I'ractical.  By 
the  Rev.  "\Ailliam  Archer  Butler,  M.  A.,  late 
Professor  of  floral  Philosophy  in  the  Uni- 
versity of  Dublin.  Edited,  with  a  ^lemoir  of 
the  Author's  Life,  by  the  Rev.  T.  M'oodward, 
M.  A.,  Vicar  of  Mullingar.  1  vol.,  Svo. : — 
The  Eternal  Duration  of  Future  Punish- 
ments not  inconsistent  with  the  Divine 
Attributes  of  Justice  and  :Mercy.  By  Geo. 
M.  Gorham,  B.A-,  Scholar  of  Trinity  College. 

Amo\g  the  books  in  theological  and 
general  literature  recently  announced  on 
the  continent  of  Europe  are  the  follow- 
ing:— 

Disfiuisitio  de  loco  Paulino,  qui  est  de 
dinaioiuet,  (juam  scripsit  Liid.  Giti/.  L'm. 
liduiceiihof.   Lugd.  Bat.,  1852.  130  pp.,  Svo. 

Zur  Charakteristlk  des  heil.  Justinus, 
Philosophenund  Martyrcrs.  Von  Karl  Otto. 
Wien,  1S32.    'Broch. 


Do  compositione  evangelii  Joanne!. 
Scripsit  Chr.  Em.  Luihardt,  Lie.  theolog. 
Rejictentis  nomine  ordini  theol.  adscriptus 
in  Academia  Erlangensi.  Xorimbergi,  18-52. 
92  pp.,   Svo. 

Disjiutatio  de  antiquissimo  librorum 
sacrorunj  \.  T.  Catalo'^^o,  qui  vulgo  frag- 
mcntum  Muratorii  appdlatur.  Scripsit 
Jutt.  vau  Gll-:c.  Amstelodami,  1S52.  4to., 
pp.  30. 

Die  Epochen  dor  kirchlichen  Geschicht- 
schrcibnng.  Von  Dr.  Fd.  Chr.  Riur,  Prof, 
an  der  UniversltUt  zu  Tiibingen.  Tubingen, 
1S52.  2t;rt  pp.,  Svo. 

Prophetic  majores  in  dialecto  lingusG 
ffgypf  iac:c  mcmplutica  sen  coptica.  Edidit 
cum  ver'.i.)uc  latinaif.  Tattani.  Tom.  I.,  IT. 
Oxonii,  1852.  070  pp.,  Svo. 

Hiob.  ErklUrt  von  Prof.  Dr.  Ludic.  Hind. 
2.  AniLige  durchgesehcn  von  Dr.  Jmt.  Oh- 
}inu>icn.     Lci[izig,  1852.     265  pp.,   Svo. 

Codex  Claromontanus,  sive  epistolse  Pauli 
omnes  gnecc  ct  latine.  Ex  cod.  Parisiensi 
celcberrinio  nomine  Clarornontani  plerum- 
quc  dicto  scxti  ut  videtur  post  Christum 
SUL'C.  nun.'  primum  ed.  Dr.  Comt. I'ischendorf, 
theol.  P.  (>.  1  Ion.  Lips.  Lipsiie,  1S52.  8vo., 
5'J9  pp. 

Einleitung  in  die  canonischen  Biicher 
des  neuen  JUuulcs.  Von  Dr.  Fr.  X.  Ilrlili- 
iiKi^r,  geistlicluin  Rath  uud  Prof.  Regens- 
burg,  1^5i'.    T.^G  i)p.,  Svo. 

Einltitung  in  die  Schriftcn  des  Xeuen 
Testaments.  Von  Dr.  Ad-dl.  JLiicr,  geisti, 
Rath  n.  Prof.    Freiburg,  1852.   GO-tpp.,  Svo. 

De  chri,-,tologia  Paulina  contra  Banrium 
commciitatio.  Scrips.  Jid.  Fd.  Jiabiger, 
theol.  Dr.  et  Prof.  Vratisl.  "\'ratislavire, 
]S.j2.    01pp.,   8vo. 

Comnientar  uber  den  Brief  Pauli  an  die 
Romer.  Yon  Dr.  Fr.  Ad.  PI,  ilippl,  ord.  Prof, 
d.  Theol.  7.n  Dorpat.  3.  Abth.  Kap.  12-lG 
cnfhalt.nd.  Frankfurt  a.  M.,  1S52.  154  pp. 
Svo. 

Lehrbu<h  d.  r  christlichen  Kirchenge- 
schichto  mil  bc^onderer  Bcrlicksichtigung 
dor  do;;riiiitiscli..n  Entwicklung.  Von  Dr. 
W.  Br.  Lindii,  /-,  Prof,  zu  Lcijizi'^'.  3.  Abth. 
1.  Iliili'ie  :  (u-,chichfed.  Kirche  der  neueren 
Zeit.     Leipzig,  18.52.   32G  pp.,  ,Svo. 

Chri.-tliche  D..gmatik.  Von  Dr.  /.  Pu. 
L'ifi'jr.  3.  Till.  Auch  unter  dem  Titel : 
Angewaiiilte  Dogmatik  oder  Polemik  und 
Irenik.     HtidelKerg,  1S.52.   3  H  pp.,  Svo. 


1853.] 


Classical  and  Miscellaneous. 


165 


AMERICAN. 

i£f:ssRs.  Cari.tox  it  Pjnr.urs  ('JO)  Mul- 

l(crrj-slreet,  Xow-York)    have  just  ready 

(>r  {"Ublioation,  "  J/an!>/  Character,  a  series 

<>/  Ltttiins  f.)  Younj  Men,  by  Geo.  Peck, 

I'lic  same  publishers  have  iu  press, 
uii.l  xviil  spoeiljl}'  issue,  "  The  Brand  of 
Ik  iiiiiiic,  vrthr  Ltunixitiun  at  llotiu:,  fiqircme 
«;.//  vn.'rerMf,  by  Kcv.  W.  H.  lluLE."  This 
uork  describes  "the  history,  policy,  prin- 
ciph-s  iind  practices"  of  the  Inquisition  in 
a  wny  at  once  truthful,  accurate,  and  im- 
partial. It  is  a  sober,  eai-uest,  telling  book ; 
and  the  more  so  as  Mr.  Rule  makes  no  state- 
ment without  yiiinfj  the  orijinal  ni'tJiority 
for  it.  We  predict  a  wide  circulation  for  this 
little  volnnie.  The  sj.irit  of  the  Inquisition 
prevails  nmrm^  Roman  Catholics  more 
eT.ten=ivoly  no-,v  than  for  two  centuries 
piit,  and  the  public  mind  of  America  should 
U»  disabused  of  the  false  notion  that  there 
i.J  510  danger  to  be  apprehended  from  it. 
llic  Pope  is  something  more  than  a  bug- 
Lear,  now  that  he  is  allying  himself  with 
nil  the  despotic  powers  of  Europe  to  put 
down  freedom  of  thought. 

We  continue  our  summaries  of  the  con- 
tents of  American  Theological  Journals: — 

lilhrioth'-ca  Saci-a,  (Andover,)  October  : — 
f.  Autoliiocraphy  of  Dr.  IJr.'t Schneider : 
H.  Kit  mtnts  of  Culture  in  the  Eirly  As:es  : 
III.  Protestant  Christianity  adapted  to  be 
the  Hcliirion  of  the  World  :  T\\  Islaraism: 
V.  Character  of  Infants:  W.  Alleged  Dis- 
crepancy between  Paul  r.nd  James:  VII. 
I.ifo  and  !<.Tvices  of  Prof.  Edwards:  VIII. 
Sketch  of  Justin  Martyr. 

7?///''iVy(/AV;,..rf.)r^,  (IVIncefon,)  October: 
—T.  Eloquence  of  the  French  Pulpit :    II.      Exhibition:    V.  De 
The  rjvninasium  inPrussi.a:    IU.  Laws  of     Money:    VI.  Si- 


Latin  (Irammar :   IV.  The  Apostles'  Creed : 
V.  Memoirs  of  Robert  and  Jara-cs  A.  Ual- 


dane :  W.  Exploration  and  Survey  of  the 
Valley  of  the  Great  Salt  Lake  of  Utah. 

€hri>itian  Rrvictr,  (New-York.)  October: 
— L  Baptists  of  the  Missis'^ippi  Valley: 
n.  The  Personality  of  the  Holv  Spirit: 
III.  Life  and  Letters  of  Niebuhr:"  IV.  Wil- 
liam Peun  aud  his  Achievements  :  V  .  The 
-Vrk  of  the  Covenant:  VI.  Spectral  Illu- 
sions ;  their  Causes  and  Laws. 

ThcoIoQtcal  and  Literarij  Jonrnnt,  (Xi  w- 
York,)  for  October  : — I.  Sources  from  which 
the  Material  of  the  Present  Crust  of  the 
Earth  were  derived:  II.  Desi;:;nation  and 
Exposition  of  the  Figures  of  Isaiah  xxii: 

III.  Excellence  and  Importance  of  Truth  : 

IV.  Tendencies  of  the  Times :  V.  Critics 
and  Correspondents. 

Charrli  Bn-ietr,  (Xew-Haven,^  October:— 
I.  Science  and  Religion :  II.  Xew-En':rland 
Theology  :  III.  John  Sterling  :  IV.'  Life 
and  Character  of  Henry  Clay:  V.  Life  and 
Character  of  Bishop  Heushaw  :  VI.  Wes- 
Icyan  Methodism:  VII.  Humphrey's  His- 
tory of  the  Propagation  Society. 

L^ontliciii  Quarterly  Review,  (Charleston,) 
for  October :— L  Battle  of  El  Moliuo  del 
Ray:  II.  Proprietary  History  of  South 
Carolina:  III.  Value  of  Words':  IV.  Mar- 
cus Aurelius  :  V.  English  L^niversities  : 
\1.  Stephens's  Lectures  on  the  Hi-tory  of 
Erance :  VII.  Instruction  in  Schools  and  • 
Colleges:  VIIL  Laws  of  Life :  IX.  Build- 
ing and  Loan  Associations  :  X.  Xatural 
Characteristics  of  the  Book  of  Jonah. 

North  American  Jieileir,  (Boston.)  for  Oc- 
tober : — T.  Geolosry  of  California  :    II.  Jef- 
frey's Life  and  Letters:    III.  Winthrop's 
Addresses   and   Speeches:    FV'.   The  Great 
inc   in   the  Value  of 
Austria  in    LSlS-i'J  : 


Vn.   Eelton's   ^lemorial   of    Dr.   Pupkin : 
Vin.  Life  and  Writings  of  Dr.  Chairacrs. 


ClasGirnl  anb  iUiGccUancons. 


EUROPEAX. 


TniKs  have  changed  in  England  since 
Sjilncy  Smith  asked,  "  Who  reads  an  Ameri- 
c.in  book?-'  If  one  might  judge  from  the 
*dverti.s<-incnts  in  the  London  newspapers, 
an-l  fruf.i  the  book  notices  in  Magazines 
and  Reviews,  the  question  might  almost  be, 
P\*"*.,!r,'':"-''""^  ^^^'^"^  any'but  American 
U.ok*  .      ^'I'vbon^es  arc  opening  to  receive 


t\    t  .   d..   A  me 


■onsi^nments;"  lirms  are  form- 


ncan  "  trade  :"    and  everv 


bookseller,  almost,  advertises  for  Ara 


'•orders."  Apropos  to  this  is  the  opeiiiii:r 
sentence  of  the  "Xew  Quarterly  Review  " 
(London)  for  October:  —  "Our  back  v.  an: 
glance  over  the  productions  of  the  quirt  er 
shall  this  time  be  brief.  There  is  little  t.. 
please  the  eye.  much  to  mark  a  doiMl<  iicc 
in  British  Literature.  We  have  importa- 
tions wholesale  from  America  ....  but  t-"" 
is  not  British  Literature.  Wh<  ii  thos.'  wlio 
have  the  care  of  the  current  liter.itnro  of 
America,  Germany,  and  France,  have  taken 


166 


Literary  and  Religious  Intelligence. 


[January 


away  tlioir  volumes  from  the  mass  before  us, 
how  little  remains  to  the  merely  English 
critic !" 

The  analysis  of  language  given  by  K.  F. 
Becker  in  his  German  Grammar  has  been 
incorporated  into  almost  every  elementary 
book,  whether  relating  to  German,  Latin, 
or  Greek,  since  written  in  Germany.  It 
has  spread  slowly  in  England  and  America 
through  the  translations  of  Kuhner  r.nd 
Becker,  which  have  found  move  or  less 
currency  in  both  countries.  A  partial  ex- 
position of  the  theory  is  given  in  Arnold's 
"English  Grammar  for  Classical  Schools;" 
but  no  full  outline  even  exists  in  English, 
except  that  alforded  in  '•  7'he  Annljinii  i./ 
^.^tten'■e»  ej-p/dined  nml  nijxtvmntizcd,  aj'ttr 
the  plan  of  Ji;c7:rr''i  Gcriiiaii,  Gntmiiiar,  by 
J.  D.  MoitF.rx,  A.  M."  (London,  18."i2,  Svo., 
pp.  75.)  IXiviating  but  slightly  from  Lecker, 
Mr.  Morell  presents  the  system  with  ad- 
mirable brevity  and  perspicuity  in  this  little 
volume,  which  we  hojie  will  be  reprinted 
and  widely  circulated  in  this  country. 

"  Utf'Cr  die  liaulichc  Einrichluiiy  (hi  liS- 
miscJicn  Wohnhamcg,  von  C.  G.  Zimpt," 
(Berlin,  1K>2,  Svo.,  pp.  20.)  is  an  account  of 
the  dwelling-houses  of  the  l^oniuns.  their 
plans  and  arrangements,  draw  n  p:u-tly  from 
Vitruvius,  and  partly  from  the  rtmains  at 
Ponijioii. 

A  third  ediuon  of '^  A7. ?,»/,,•'*  Li/f  «nd 
Lctten"  has  appeared  in  London,  with  an 
additional  volume  consisting  entirely  of 
new  matter,  and  comprising  a  Li'ttcr  on 
Niebuhr's  jioliticHl  conduct  by  t'licvaliir 
Bunscn,aiid  selections, from  Niebnlir's  Let- 
ters from  Holland  and  minor  writings. 

The  first  volume  of  Sir  Archibald  Alison's 
new  "  History  of  Kuropc,  from  tlic  fnU  of 
Napoleon  to  the  acccusion  of  L"iua  Xii}hiIi  on" 
has  been  recently  announced  in  Eilinlnirgh. 
"It  is  the  object  of  the  author  in  tli>'  jiresent 
work,  which  will  not,  it  is  expected,  exceed 
five  volumes,  or,  at  the  utmost,  six,  to 
trace  tlie  great  Socinl  ehan-cs  which  have 
occurred  since  the  tfrmin.itiuii  of  the  wars 
of  the  French  Itevolution.  The  era  which 
it  will  embrace,  though  less  dr.imatic  and 
moving  than  the  animiiled  one  which 
terminated  with  the  fall  of  Napoleon, 
is,  perha[K,  still  more  ini|i.)rtatit :  though 
it  presents  le.ss  of  iiidivivhial  agency,  it 
includes  more  of  general  progress." 
It  is  to  be  hoped  that  increase  of  years 
and  experience  ha?  aliated  something  of 
Mr.  Alison's  tiirce  .■Vnti  Galilean  and  .\uti- 
American  prejudices. 


"  Uelifr  (Icn  Uripriin;/  der  Sprache  "  is  the 
title  of  a  pajier  read  by  J.vcob  Geijim  be- 
fore the  lioyal  Academy  of  Sciences  at  Ber- 
lin. It  opposes  the  theory  of  a  revealed 
langu:i2;e,  and  asserts  that  man  invents 
laiigrage  in  conseciuence  of  his  organiza- 
tion and  its  wants.  Grimm  passes  a  high 
(perhaps  too  high)  encomium  upon  the 
English  language,  as  follows  : — 

"  Indeed,  tlu'  Englisli  language,  whicli 
prodiiei-d  and  sustained  the  greatest  and 
iiio-t  powerful  jioet  of  modern  times  in 
ci.ntrast  to  classic  antiiiuity — that  lan- 
pu:ige  \\hich  produced  and  sustained 
.Sii.ik^pearc — mav  justlv  be  called  a  icorld's 
l'n,.j,i,,,r,nu>],  like'unto'the  English  nation, 
it  :i|i|"'.u's  t')  lie  its  destiny  at  some  futtire 
p<rind  to  exerci-^e  a  still  more  powerful 
sway  over  all  the  countries  of  the  earth, 
fur  in  wealtii,  reason,  and  conciseness, 
there  is  none  uf  the  livino;  ton^jues  which 
c.iu  l-e  eeuip.ircd  t'l  this  English  language; 
nut  even  (uir  "-.mi  (;ernuin,  torn  inid  divided 
as  it  is.  like  nur-iclves.  aiid  which  must  rid 
itsidt"  lit'  ni.'inv  f  lilings  ere  it  can  compete 
^wth  this  Englisli  language." 

"  7).'e  Mithode  der  Wisscmehoft,  von  C. 
AV.  Opz.:oMi-i:,  Professor  der  Philosophic  an 
d.rniversitiit  zu  Utrecht,"  (Utrecht,  18.J2, 
.'^vo.,  jiji.  1('«7,^  is  a  summary  of  the  doctrine 
of  L.if^ical  Method,  jirofessing  to  follow 
Herselul,  Whewell,  Mill,  and  Comte,  with 
deviations  enough  to  give  originality  and 
seir-sutriei.iicy  tr>  the  work. 

Tiii:  r.mrth  volume  of  "  Scholicn  Hifpo- 
tH(ir;,Ki"r,  a- rip-fit  Joi[.  B.VKIUS,"  (Lugd.  Bat., 
1n"c',  pp.  ;!:!(),)  contains  the  following  es- 
says :  I.  I)e  Institute  legum  emendandarum 
a|iud  Athenitnscs,  (pp.  1-G^)  ;  11.  I^men- 
dattir  ricero  in  TiiseulanisDispntationibus, 
([ip.  li-v-li:.)  ;  III.  I\.  Atheniensinm  tla- 
.popa,  (pp.  115-177)  ;  IV.  Emeudantur  Cie. 
Oratt.  Varr.  Art.  secmid:c,  (pp.  lfit-245); 
Y.  Aitiea.  (i.j).  l!(.>-i.'.t(.-,)  ;  Yl.  Emeudantur 
Ciceronis  Miloniana  et  Pisoniana,  (pp. 
ov,-^_'!.-,l  1  ;  VI L  Corriguntur  nonuulla  in 
.EM-hinis  Ctesiphontea,  (pp.  315-33G) . 

\\k  hwi.-  received  the  first  j.art  of  the 
great  "  Jif  KiKrJuii  ]\''ijrterhiieh  von  J.vcOB 
Ghmm  mid  WiLHF.LM  GiuMM."  (Leipzi? 
1V.2,  A-Allverein.  pp.  L'40.)  It  is  beauti- 
fiiily  iiriiit-J,  and  can  be  furnished  here 
(^\■,  ^termann,  Brothers,  200  Broadway)  at 
alxiut  I'c'i  CI  Ills  a  nnmlier. 

'I'm:  numliers  of  students  in  the  j)rincipal 
German  Universities  for  the  last  Semester 
were  as  follows  -.—LrloiK/rn  4lX),  of  whom 
l.'.l  studied  theohigy;  Freihiir,j  33S,  of 
whom  lol!  were  tlieological  students; 
H^ideU.Kfj   703    students,   02   theological  ; 


Ifc53.] 


Classical  and  Miscellaneous. 


167 


Lripxig  812  gtuJeuts,  of  whom  lC-3  studied 
thcolocrj- ;  Wurzbnrg  112,  of  whom  89 
stutlied  thfulo^y.  The  aj-^'regate  nmu- 
hors  in  the  remaining  universities  -B-ere : 
Jitrlin  1'171,  .Mumch  lOUl,  I'nifjue  1346, 
Iio,m  l.Ul-',  ItriHlau  864,  Tiiblugeii  774, 
(jvttin;/rn  (ill,  HaUc  670,  Jenrt  433,  Gicssen 
411,  </ni/i  3',)!),  KOniijehenj  33?.  Marburg 
'■ilo,  Miinntrr  302,  Iiinspruck  '2'>1,  Grei/n- 
icalJc  201,  ATr;/  141,  7^j«<oc/t  100. 

A  German  translation  of  the  Latin  My- 
thograj.hers  is  proposed  by  Dr.  Bunte  of 
Vegesack,  near  Bremen.  We  have  received 
the  first  number,  containing  "  Lactantiiis 
J'/aciJiis,  neUt  Bcitr'dgcn  znr  Entciidatioii  cits 
/f/g;nH,,"  (Bremen,  18-32,  12mo.,  pp.112.) 
We  have  barely  room  to  record  the  receipt 
of  "  Oraeula  Sihi/Uiiui,  ndjldein  cndd.  quot- 
qu'tt  cxatnnt  receimiit,  prcvte.rtU prolcgominis 
idit^truiit,  urgionc  Germaiiicii  Inttruxit,  an- 
noUittvii'-s  crtticuH  et  indicr^  rcrvm  et  ver- 
Irorum  /ucuplctiisimos  adjccit  J.  H.  Fkied. 
UKU.  I),  l).''  (Lipsia;,  18-32,  Svo.,  pp.  538)  ; 
of  "  C.  Conir/ii  Taciti  de  vita  et  moribtia 
C.  J.  Agrico/w  Liber:  ad  jidem  codd.  denno 
colliit.  receiiKuit  ct  commeiitarii^  enarravit 
J.  CiROLus  Wi:x."  (Brunsv.,  1832,  8vo., 
pp.  337)  :  of  "  Beltriige  ziir  Sprach-  und 
Altirtluimnfursehung  am  JadUchen  Quellen, 
\>m  Dr.  Michael  Sachs,  er.,tes  Heft."  (Ber- 
iiu,  1S32,  8vo.,  pp.  188)  ;  and  of  '' .Eschyli 
Tr.,g<,dkp,  nv.r/i,«iVG.  Heumaxx."  ^Berlin, 
18-52,  2  vols.,  Svo.)  The  latter  is  one  of  the; 
mo>t  beautiful  specimens  of  typography 
we  have  ever  seen,  and  is  adorned  with  a 
spirited  und  admirably  executed  i)ortrait 
of  the  veteran  idiilulogist. 

The  fourth  volume  of  ilure's  Critical 
History  of  the  Language  and  Literature  of 
Aiwlent  Greco-  Comprises  historical  litera- 
ture from  the  rise  of  prose  composition  to 
the  death  of  Herodotus. 

Dr.  Lepsils  has  recently  published  a 
volume  intended  more  fur  general  readers 
than  the  two  previous  ones.  It  is  entitled, 
'.'  ^''•if'-rs  from  Egypt,  Ethiopia,  and  the  Pen- 
insula of  .%,«,-."  The  object  of  these  let- 
ters, according  to  the  Athoi^rum,  was,  in 
the  tirsl  place,  to  report  the  proceedings  of 
tho  Kxpcditiou  to  those  at  home  who  had 
a  r!'„'ht,ti)  information  respecting  it ;— and 
for  t hi,  rc.ison,  perhaps,  altliougli  partaking 
of  the  manner  of  familiar  communications, 
t  u-y  s.'iy  loss  of  the  personal  fortunes  of 


l.ie  tnivib-r  than  is  usual  in  notes  from 
the  Nil...  Yet  there  are  fe«-  accounts  of 
that  region  which  will  ^ive  tlie  European 
reader  u  better  view  of  its  essential  features 


or  that  will  more  clearly  inform  him  of 
what  is  remarkable  iii  the  present  state, 
and  bearing  on  the  jiast,  of  its  chief  monu- 
ments. In  a  correspondence  like  this, 
much,  of  course,  is  omitted  that  the  wholly 
unlearned  might  wish  to  know;  while 
frequent  reference  is  made  to  topics  with 
which  the  studious  alone  are  familiar. 
But  it  is  pleasing  to  observe  how  clearly 
from  these  unaffected  business-like  rcfjorts, 
chiefly  occupied  as  they  are  with  scientitio 
residts,  there  is  evolved  a  picture  of  the 
actual  face  of  the  laud,  and  something 
more  than  au  outline  of  the  primeval  story 
vhieb  its  ruins  liave  been  forced  to  reveal, 
— sutiicient  to  awaken  interest  in  those 
even  who  Lave  never  approached  the 
ground  before.  To  all  who  are  already  iu 
some  degree  acquainted  with  it,  the  letters 
will  be  iu  a  high  degree  instructive  and  ' 
delightful." 

Amoxg  the  new  works  announced  as  in 
press  and  in  preparation  iu  Great  Britain 
are  the  following  :— 

Memoir,  Journal,  and  Correspondence  of 
Thomas  Moore.    Edited  by  the  Bight  Hon. 
Lord   John  Eussell.     With  Portraits  and 
Tignette  Illustrations : — Essays  on  Political 
and    Social   Science.    Contributed   to   the 
Edinburgh  and  other  Reviews.    Bv  W.  R. 
Grog,  Esq.    2  vols.,  Svo. :— The  Battle  of 
Leij.iic.     By  the  Kev.  G.  T,.  Gleig,  M.  A..   ' 
Chaplain-General  of  the  Forces.     iClino.  :— 
The  Australian  Colonies;  Their  Ori^'in  and 
Present  Condition.     By  William  liugh.s. 
F.  R.  G.  S.,  Professor  of  Geography  in  the 
College  for  Civil  Engineers.     16m'). :— Tho 
Fourth  Volume  of  Colonel  Mure's  Critical 
History  of  the  Language  and  Literature  of 
Ancient    Greece :     comprising    Historicjil 
Literature  from  the  Rise  of  Prose  Composi- 
tion to  the  Death  of  Herodotus.     Svo.  :— 
^Irs.  Jameson's  Legends  of  the  Madonna, 
as  represented  in  the  Fine  .A.rts  :  formin:: 
the  Thinl  and  conclmliug  Series  of  Sacred 
and  Legendary  Art:— Isis:    an   Egyt,tiau 
Pilgriiuage.     By  J.  A.  St.  John,  Esq.,  .iuthor 
of  Manners  and  Customs  of  Ancient  (;roecc. 
2  vols.,  post  Svo. :— The  Civil  Wars  of  Koine  : 
A   .School  History.      By   the   Rev.   Charles 
Merivale,  B.  D.  "l-cp.  Svo. :— The  Li-ht  <>:" 
the  Forge.     By  the  Rev.  "R'iUiam  Hani-n. 
M.  A.,  Rector  of  Birch,  Essex  :—Go.t  he's 
Faust :   With  English  Xotes,  Criti.al.  <  .r  itrt- 
matical.  and  Philological.      15y  I'-ib  k  1^ - 
bahn.  Ph.  D.,  .Vuthor  of  Practice  in  ti< niiau, 
itc.     bvo. : — The  Principles  of  .Meeh.injc;il 
Philosophy  aiqdied  to  Iudustri.il  Mechanics. 


16S 


Literary  and  Religious  Intelligence.         [January. 


V.y  Thomas  Tiite.  F.  R.  A.  S.  8vo. :— Sicily, 
its  Secncrv  ami  its  Antiriuities,  Greek, 
SariireiiiL",  niul  X^.rraan.  By  \V.  H.  liartlett, 
Author  of  "Walks  about  Jcnisaleni,''  Ac. 
"With  "1  Steel  Knirraviiicrs  and  iiunuroiis 
Wo"d-cuts,  in  su|.iT-royal  8vo. : — An  His- 
tori.al  ami  Statistioiil  Account  of  New 
South  Wales  ;  iiicluJin,'  a  Visit  to  the  Gold 
Koirions.  and  a  Lkso.ii.tiois  of  tlie  Klines,  .to. 
EyJ.  D.  I.aiicr,  M.  A.,  D.  1).  ".d  editiou, 
(three-fourths  of  the-SAork  heiu^;  entirely 
new,)  hring-ing  down  the  History  of  the 
C'olonj  to  the  year  lS."i2.  2  vols.,  jiost  nvo.  ; 
— also,  Ly  the  same  Author,  Freedom  and 
Independence  for  the  Golden  Lands  of 
Australia;  the  Ki-ht  of  the  Colonies,  and 
the  Interest  of  Britain  and  of  the  Vv'cirld. 
Post  Svo.: — Xarrative  of  a  Visit  to  the  Indian 
Archipelago  in  II.  M.  S.  '•  Mieamler  ;"  m  ith 
Portions  of  the  .Journals  of  Sir  Janns 
Brooke,  K.  C.  B.  By  Capt.  the  Hon.  Hen ry 
Keppel,  R.  X.,  Svo. : — History  of  the  Anuri- 
can Revolution.  By  Georjre  Bancroft,  Author 
of  "History  of  the  Fnitod  States,"  vol.  ii., 
Svo. :— The"  Second  Part  of  the  Primeval 
Languajre.  Being  the  jJonunients  of  K/ypt, 
and  their  Vestiges  of  Patriarchal  Tradition. 
By  the  Rev.  "Charles  Foster.  Rector  of 
Stisted,  Essex.  Svo.  -.—Illustrated  Jourtial 
of  a  Landscape  Painter  in  Calabria.  By  Ed. 
Lear,  Author  of  "  Illustrated  Journal  of  a 
T/andsctpe  Painter  in  .Vlbania,"  ito.  ■'^vo. 

Among  the  books  in  crer.eral  literature 
recently  announced  on  the  eoutinent  of 
Europe  are  the  following  : — 

Eriefwechsel  zwischen  Goethe  n.  Knchel. 
(1774-1S;32.)  2  B;inde.  Leipzig,  iJvil. 
8vo.,  378  und  412  j)p. 

Der  Romische  Civilprocess  und  die 
Actioncn     in    summarischer    Darstolluni,'. 


Zum  Gebranche  bci  Vorlesungen.  Von  Dr. 
/v.  Liiilic.  h\!/.r,  Prof,  der  Rcchtc  in  Berlin. 
1.  Abth.    L<ipzig,  I>!32.    Svo.,  pp.  208. 

Znr  Rum?tilehre  :  zwei  Abhandlungen 
von  R.  V.  Lilii'iKTon  und  K.  Miillenhoft", 
Professoron  in  Kiel.  8vo.,  pp.  Ct.  Halle, 
1S.32. 

Kysfom  dor  Staatswissenschaft.  Von 
L.  }<tc!,i.  l.Band.  Stuttgart,  1^.")2.  Svo., 
pp.  .-.04. 

Dante's  Leben  und  "Werke.  Kulturge- 
schichtlich  dargestellt  von  Dr.  Frz.  X. 
]Vff/r!r,  aus-erord.  Prof,  an  der  Universltat 
2U  Jena.     Jena,  l'S.-)2.     8vo.,  pp.  4G.S. 

Das  (Icutscho  Volk,  dargcstellt  in  Ver- 
gan^:cnheit  und  Gccrenwart  zur  Be','riindung 
dcrZukuuft.    Leipzig,  18.51.  G  Biiiide,  Svo. 

./.  Jul:  ]]'>'■(, )rr's  nachgelassene  Schriften 
nber  Philosophie.  herauscregeben  von  Dr. 
/'/..  L.  A,/;„).  1.  Thl.— Audi  unter  d.  Titel : 
Mctuphysik  od-r  dasWeltgesetz  nebst  Ein- 
leituiig  in  ilie  Philosophie,  tind  Abriss  der 
Ges'-hichte  der  Philosoj'hie.  Xach  desson 
Vortnigi-n  Uber  das  "Organ  der  mcusch- 
lichen  Krkeinituiss  "  undhandschriftliclien 
Narhliiss  hiTatrsge!,'ebeu.  Llm,  1852.  Svo., 
pp.  141. 

E.s.-ai  sur  les  fondements  de  nos  con- 
nais<;ani^?s  et  sur  les  caracteres  de  la  critique 
jjhi!n-.i|jh:.;u'-.  par  A..I.  ro»n!of ,  inspecteur 
general  di-  Pinstrtiction  public.  2  vols. 
Paris,  lv-,2.     Svo.,  pp.  SIS. 

DI.;  fl.'li.-i.in  und  die  Philosophie  in  ihrer 
vw'ltg.sehi.'htU.lKnEntwickh:ng  und  Stel- 
lunir  zu  cinander,  nach  den  Urkunden  dar- 
geligt  vuu  -t.  (Undiich,  Director  und  Prof. 
Breslau,  1^52.    Svo.,  pp.  235. 

.I'schyll  Trago„>di!c.  Eecensuit  Godo- 
/rnlw.  iknnmiw],.  Vol.  I,  IL  Lipsice,  1852. 
8vo.,  jip.  4">l  und  674. 


AMERICAN. 


New  ilAGAZtXE. — Messes.  George  P.  Put- 
nam A  Co.  have  issued  a  prospectus  for  a 
new  Monthly,  to  partake  of  the  character 
of  the  ilagaziae  and  Review.  All  articles 
admitted  into  the  work  are  to  be  liberally 
paid  for.  It  w  ill  be  devoted  to  the  interests 
of  literature,  science,  and  art,  iu  their  best 
and  pieasanL/st  aspects.  It  will  be  open 
to  coinpeteitt  writers  for  free  discussion  of 
such  topics  as  are  deemed  important  and 
of  public  iiitcrest.  Tiie  critical  deiiartnicnl 
will  be  wholly  iudejiendcnt  of  the  publish- 
ers, and,  as  far  as  possible,  of  all  personal 
influence  or  bias.  Wholesome  castigation 
of  public  abuses  will  be  allowed  a  fair  held. 


without  fear  or  favour.  When  a  subject 
needs  illustration  or  pictorial  example, 
such  illustrations  will  be  occasionally 
given ;  but  it  is  not  expected  that  the 
success  of  the  work  is  to  depend  on  what 
are  termed  inibellishjnent.s.  Each  number 
will  contain  one  hundred  and  twenty- 
eight  aniiile  pages.  Price  S?.  per_  annum, 
or  25  cents  per  nuinlier.  Among  the  writ- 
ers who  will  loud  their  cooperation  in  this 
work,  the  following  aic  mentioned  :  Irving. 
Hawthorne,  Longfellow,  V.'hipple,  Dewey. 
Bancroft,  Bryant,  F.m.Tsou.  and  several 
female  w  riters  of  repute.—  Christian  In- 
quirer. 


THE 

METHODIST  aUAETEELY  REVIEW. 

AT  R  I  L,  1853. 


Art.  I.— the  ECLIPSE  OF  FMTH. 

Tiie  Eclipse  of  Faith  :  or,  a  Visit  to  a  Religions  Sceptic.     Boston,  1852. 

TlIT3  volume  is  published  anonymously;  but  it  is  -well  knowH 
to  be  from  the  pen  of  Henry  Rogers,  author  of  several  papers 
in  the  Edinburgh  Review.  It  is  one  of  the  few  books  recently 
published  that  are  destined  to  live, — full  of  thought,  direct  in  its 
aim,  conclusive  in  its  reasoning.  Its  svhstratum  is  fictitious, 
the  dramatis  j^ersoncR  being  creatures  of  the  imagination;  but 
the  superstructure  is  truth — truth  momentous  and  all- important. 
In  a  series  of  conversations  and  discussions  between  the  supposed 
writer  of  the  volume,  his  nephew  Harrington,  and  Fellowes,  a  friend 
of  the  latter,  the  various  theories  of  modern  infidelity  are  examined 
with  candour,  and  their  objections  to  revealed  religion  shown  to  be 
futile  and  frivolous.  The  author  has  done  for  the  disciples  of  Strauss, 
Kewraan,  Parker,  and  the  rationalists  and  spiritualists  of  the  present 
age,  what  Butler  did,  and  Paley,  and  AYatson,  for  the  sceptics  of 
former  times :  he  has  swept  away  their  subtle  cavils,  unveiled  their 
sophistries,  and  shown  the  pillar  of  revelation  unharmed  by  their 
malignity. 

Harrington  is  a  young  man  of  wealth  and  education.  He  has 
travelled  in  Germany,  and  after  having  been  driven  about  by  the 
conflicting  winds  of  opposing  doctrines,  is  introduced  to  us  as  a 
sceptic  of  the  straitest  kind.  He  believes,  religiously,  nothing. 
He  doubts,  not  only  whether  the  Bible  be  true,  but  whether  it  be 
false.  Fellowes,  on  the  other  hand,  is  a  spiritualist  of  the  modern 
school,— a  disciple  of  Parker  and  Francis  Newman.  He  has  rejected 
all  religious  creeds,  has  abandoned  the  Bible  as  an  authoritative 
revelation  of  God's  Avill,  and  claims  that  spiritual  truth  is  indigenou.^ 
to  the  human  heart.  A  few  extracts  from  the  first  conversation 
Fourth  Seiiies,  Vol.  V.— 11 


170  Tlie  Eclipse  of  Faith.  [April, 

bet\YGen  these  totally  dissimilar  friends  will  give  the  reader  an  in- 
sight into  their  characters,  which  are  sustained  with  singular  fidelity 
throughout  the  volume : — 

" '  I  tell  you,'  said  Harrington,  '  that  I  believe  absolutely  no  one  religious 
dogma  whatever;  while  yet  1  would  give  worlds,  if  I  had  tliem,  to  set  my  loot 
ujioa  a  rock.  I  should  even  be  grateful  to  any  one,  who,  if  he  did  not  give 
me  truth,  gave  me  a  phantom  of  it  which  I  could  mistake  for  reality.' 

"'If  you  merely  meant,'  replied  Fellowes,  'that  you  did  not  retain  anv 
vestige  of  your  early  historical  and  dogariatical  Chri^tianity,  why  I  retain  just 
as  little  of  it.  I  have  rejected  all  creeds,  and  I  have  now  found  what  the 
Scripture  calls  that  peace  which  passelli  all  understanding.  Though  no 
Christian  in  the  ordinary  sense,  1  am,  I  hope,  sometliing  better;  and  a  truer 
Christbn  iu  the  spirit  than  thousiinds  of  those  in  the  letter.' 

"'Letter  and  spirit  I'  said  Ilarringion, — 'you  puzzle  mc  exceedingly:  vou 
tell  me  one  moment  that  you  do  not  believe  in  iiistorical  Christianitv  at  all, 
either  its  miracles  or  dogmas, — thcjo  are  fahles;  but  iu  the  next,  why,  no  old 
Puritan  could  garnish  such  discoui-se  with  a  more  edifying  use  of  the  language 
of  Scripture.  I  sujipose  you  will  next  tcU  me  that  you  undei-stand  the  spirit 
of  Christianity  better  even  than  Paul.' 

"  '  So  I  do,'  was  the  reply.  '  Paulo  nuijora  canamus :  for,  after  all,  be  was 
but  half  delivered  from  his  Jewish  prejudices;  and  when  he  quitted  the  non- 
sense of  the  Old  Testament — though  in  lact  he  never  did  thoroughly — he 
evidently  believed  the  fables  of  the  New  just  as  much  as  the  pure  truths 
which  lie  at  the  basis  of  spiritual  Clirislianity.  ]]'c  separate  the  dross  of 
Christianity  from  Its  line  gold.'  " 

In  the  further  progress  of  this  conversation  Mr.  Fellowes  develops 
himself  in  the  language  of  the  modern  spiritualists,  and  has,  pat 
for  his  purpose  at  every  turn,  a  quotation  from  the  writings  of  his 
teachers.  Indeed,  he  is  the  euibodiment  of  Messrs.  jS'ewman  and 
Parker;  while,  with  logical  acutcuess,  his  antagonist,  the  avowed 
sceptic,  after  satirizing  their  pci-petual  usage  of  Bible  phraseology, 
shows  that  their  fundamental  principles  are  identical  with  those  of 
Lord  Herbert,  and  the  elder  and  more  decent  deists  of  that  class. 
The  latter,  indeed,  in  one  respect,  have  the  advantage  of  the  neo- 
phytes of  the  present  day.  "  Spiritualism  "  doubts  the  immortality 
of  the  soul;  Herbert  and  his  followers  took  t]iat  for  granted;  while 
both  agree  in  rejecting  what  they  style  the  supernatural  narratives 
of  the  Old  and  New  Testaments,  and  treat  as  gross  absurdities  the 
doctrine  of  the  Trinity,  the  Atonement,  the  General  Eesurrection, 
the  Day  of  Judgment,  and  the  Punishment  of  the  Wielded  in  a 
future  world.  The  name  of  "  Deist,"  however,  as  well  as  that  of 
"Rationalist,"  is  unpleasant  to  the  ears  of  the  gentlemen  of  the 
new  school.  They  prefer  to  be  styled  '•  Spiritualists."  and  while 
rejecting  the  Bible  as  a  revelation  from  God,  they  claim  to  be 
Christians  par  exccllejice — Christians,  freed  from  the  bondage  of 
"the  letter;"  and,  as  such,  entitled  to  feel  pity,  bordering  upon 
contempt,  for  those  who  cannot  bask  in  the  sunshine  of  their  "  divine 


1853.]  The  Eclipse  of  Faith.  171 

philosophy,"  and  are  so  old-fashioned  as  to  bow  submissively  to  the 
teachings  of  the  inspired  volume. 

The  inspired  volume!  Alas!  has  not  Mr.  Newman  denied  that 
there  is  any  such  thing  V  Even  so.  He  claims  to  have  proved  that  a 
book-revelation  of  moral  and  spiritual  truth  is  an  impossibility. 
The  cardinal  doctrine  of  the  new  school  is  that  God  reveals  him- 
self to  us  within,  and  not  from  without.  In  accordance  with  this 
sontiinent,  Fellowes,  in  the  volume  before  us,  directs  his  friend  to 
"look  inwards,  that  he  may  see  by  the  direct  gaze  of  the  spiritual 
faculty,  bright  and  clear,  those  great  intuitions  of  spiritual  truth 
which  no  book  can  teach."  Admitting  for  a  moment  the  impossibility 
of  a  book-revelation,  the  sceptic  rather  poses  his  illuminated  friend 
by  adverting  to  the  fact  that,  notwithstanding  this  inward  light,  thL 
great  mass  of  mankind  have  a  remarkable  facility  for  receiving  the 
erroneous  supposition.  . 

•"It  seems  strange,'  says  lie,  'that  men  in  general  should  bolievc  things  to 
be  i)0;*<ihle  •when  they  are  impossible.' 

'_' '  It  is,'  replies  Fellowes,  "  beeause  they  liavc  conlbundcd  -what  is  historieal 
or  intellectual  with  moral  and  spiritual  trutii.' 

"  '  I  atu  afraid  that  will  not  excuse  their  absurdity,  because,  as  you  admit, 
aft  book-revelation  is  impossible.  But  further,  supposing  men  to  have  made 
this  strange  blunder,  it  only  shows  that  the  "  moral  and  spiritual "  could  Jiot  be 
very  clearly  revealed  icithin  :  and  no  wonder  men  began  to  think  that  per- 
baps  it  might  come  to  them  from  witliout!  "When  menbe^in  to  mistake  blue 
for  red,  and  s<mare  for  round,  and  chaff  for  wheat,  I  think  it  is  high  time 
that  they  repair  to  a  doctor  outsl/lc  them  to  tell  them  what  is  the  matter  vrith 
tlieir  poor  bi-aius.     ^leantime  an  external  revelation  Is  impossible  ?' 

"  '  Certainly.' 

" '  But  men,  however,  have  somehow  pervcrseh-  believed  It  ycry  })ossible, 
and  that  in  Vome  shape  or  other  it  has  been  given  ?' 

"  '  They  have,  1  must  admit.' 

"  '  Unhappy  race  !  thus  led  on  by  some  fatality,  though  not  by  the  constitu- 
tion of  their  nature,  (i-atlier  by  some  inevitable  jierversiou  of  it,)  to  believe 
as  ]K)ssible  that  which  is  so  plainly  impossible.  O  that  it  did  not  involve  a 
contradiction  to  wish  that  God  would  relieve  them  from  such  universal  and 
pernicious  delusions,  hi/  f/icing  them  a  hook-re cclation  to  shoic  them  that  all  hook- 
rciclations  are  impossible  !'  " 

The  sceptic  presses  his  point,  and,  with  great  gravity,  says : — 

"  '  Pray  permit  me  to  ask,  Did  >/ou  always  believe  that  a  book-revelation  is 
impossible  ?' 

"  '  How  can  you  ask  the  qnestion  ?'  is  the  candid  reply.  '  You  know  that 
1  was  brought  up,  like  yourself,  in  the  reception  of  the  Bible  as  the  only  and 
infallible  revelation  of  God  to  mankind.' 

'• '  To  what  do  you  owe  your  emancipation  from  this  grievous  and  universal 
error,  whlrh  still  infects,  in'this  or  some  other  shape,  the  myriads  of  the  hum.in 
race  V 

" '  I  think  principally  to  the  work  of  [Mr.  Newman  on  "  the  Soul,"  and  his 
"  rhas<>s  of  Faith."  ' 

"Harrington  replies:  'These  have  been  to  you,  then,  at  least,  a  human 
bcwk-revelation  that  a  dicine  book-revelation  is  impossible— a  truth  which  I 


172  The  Eclipse  of  Faith.  [April, 

acknowledge  you  could  not  have  received  by  divine  book-revelation  ^itLout  a 
contradiction.  You  ought,  indeed,  to  tbiuk  very  highly  of  Mr.  Ne^vman 
Jt  is  rcell  when  God  caiutot  do  a  thing  thai  man  can!'  " 

The  conversation  on  this  point  is  too  protracted  for  our  pages. 
As  was  fitting,  it  being  the  fundamental  principle  of  "  spiritualism," 
our  author  brings  to  bear  upon  it  all  his  powers.  The  Socratic  mode 
of  argumentation  is  plied  with  great  skill,  and  the  disciple  of  Mr. 
Newman  is  driven  just  where  ^Mr.  Newman  himself  would  have  been 
driven  had  he  been  present  in  propria  peraoiia,  into  the  manifestly 
absurd,  but  perfectl}'  logical  conclusion  that  "  that  may  be  possible 

W'lTII  MAN  V-'HICH  IS  IMPOSSIBLE  WITH  GOD," 

Further  on  in  the  volume  the  author,  who  represents  himself  as  a 
mere  listener  to  the  above  conversation,  reads  to  the  young  men  a 
paper  on  the  subject  prepared  by  himself  It  is  a  close-reasoned 
argument,  or  rather  series  of  arguments,  to  prove  the  possihiliiy  of 
an  external  revelation  of  moral  truth,  the  uscfuhiess  of  such  a  revela- 
tion, and,  what  is  most  to  the  purpose,  that  such  a  revelation  is  in 
strict  analogy  with  the  conditions  of  human  development.  On  this 
last  point  the  author's  remarks  appear  to  us  perfectly  conclusive. 
It  is  a  fact,  however  it  may  be  accounted  for,  that  external  influences 
do  mould  and  modify  man's  intellectual  position  in  this  world. 
What  else  makes  the  dilVerence  between  a  Hottentot  and  an  English- 
man? Admitting,  as  claimed  by  "the  spiritualist,"  that  all  men 
have  the  same  innate  susceptibilities,  "potentialities,"  as  they  say, 
of  what  avail  are  the}',  even  in  an  intellectual  point  of  view,  unless 
something  is  brought  to  bear  upon  them  from  without  ?  And  what 
is  it  that  is  thus  brought  to  bear  upon  the  human  mind,  making  such 
a  mighty  difference  between  the  savage  and  the  civilized  races,  but 
a  '•'book-revelation?"     Hear  our  author: — 

"  The  world  Avnit.-^  fur  a — nooK.  Among  the  varied  external  influences^ 
}»mid<t  which  the  hunian  r.u-e  is  developed,  this  is  incomparably  the  most 
imjx)rtant,  and  the  .)nly  one  tli:it  is  absolutely  essential.  U}X)u  it  the  collective 
oduoatlon  of  the  race  depends.  It  is  the  sole  instnnnent  of  registering. 
]>orpetuating.  transmitting  thought.  Yes,  whatever  trivial  and  vulvar  associa- 
tions may  inijvair  our  due  eoneej)tions  of  the  grandeur  of  this  material  and 
artificial  organon  of  man's  develojnnent,  as  compared  with  the  iutelk-ctual 
and  moral  energies  v,])\i-]\  have  reruurse  to  it,  but  Mhich  are  almost  impotent 
v/ithout  it.  Cod  has  made  man's  whole  career  of  triumphs  dependent  upon 
this  siime  art  of  wiiting  !  Tlie  whole  progress  of  the  world  he  has  created, 
he  has  made  (U'jiendeiit  upon  llie  aljihabet  I  "Without  this  the  progress  of  the 
individual  is  inconceivably  slow,  and  with  him,  for  the  most  part,  ])rogres5 
terminates.  ]*y  this  alone  can  Me  garner  the  fruits  of  ex])erience,  become 
wise  by  the  wisdom  of  others,  and  strong  by  their  strength.  "Without  this 
man  everywhere  remains,  age  ai'ter  age,  immovably  a  savage;  and,  if  he  were 
to  lose  it  when  he  has  once  gained  it,  would,  atler  a  little  ineirectual  flutter, 
bv  the  aid  of  ta-adltlon,  sink  into  barbarism  again.     Till  this  cardinal  want  is 


1853.]  llie  Eclipse  of  Faith.  173 

supplied,  all  consMerable  progress  is  iniposslblc.  It  may  look  odd  to  say  that 
the  wliole  -world  is  dependent  on.  an}-tluiig  so  purely  artificial;  but,  in  point 
of  fact,  it  is  only  another  way  of  stjiting  the  truth,  that  God  has  constituted 
the  race  a  ifcrics  of  mutually  dependent  beings  ;  and  as  each  term  of  this  series 
h  perlsliable  and  evanescent,  the  development  and  improvement  of  the  race 
must  depend  on  an  instrument  by  -svhich  an  intcrcormexion  can  bo  maintained 
between  its  parts;  till  then,  progress  must  not  only  be  most  precarious,  but 
virtually  impossible.  To  the  truth  of  this  all  history  testifies.  I  say,  tla-n, 
not  oidy  that,  if  God  has  given  man  a  revelation  at  all,  he  has  but  acted  in 
analogy  M-ith  that  law  by  which  he  has  made  man  so  absolutely  dependent 
U{K)n  external  culture,  but  that,  if  he  has  given  it  in  the  very  shape  of  a  book. 
he  has  acted  also  in  strict  analogy  with  the  very  form  in  which  he  has  imposed 
that  law  ou  the  world.  He  has  simply  made  use  of  that  instrument,  whuh,  by 
the  very  constitution  of  our  nature  and  of  the  world,  he  has  made  ahsolutelv 
essential  to  the  progress  and  advancement  of  humanity.  May  we  not  conclude 
from  analogy-,  that  if  God  has,  indeed,  thus  constituted  the  world,  and  if  he 
busies  himself  at  all  in  the  fortunes  of  miserable  humanity,  he  has  not  disdained 
to  take  part  in  its  education,  by  condescendingly  using  that  ver}-  instniment 
which  himself  has  made  the  condition  of  all  human  progress?  I  think,  even 
if  you  hesitate  to  admit  that  Gcxl  has  given  us  a  '  book-revelation,'  you  must 
admit  it  would  be  at  least  in  manifest  coincidence  with  the  laws  of  human 
development  and  the  '  constitution  and  course  of  nature.'  " — Pp.  301-3. 

La  the  discussion  of  that  favourite  dogma  of  "the  Spiritualists," 
that/a///<  may  exist  independently  of  hcUef,  and  that  there  may  be 
true  and  acceptable  faith  however  erroneous  or  absurd  the  creed, 
the  combatants  on  either  side  evince  much  ingenuity.  Fellowes  is 
here  quite  at  home  in  the  dialectics  of  his  teachers.  He  quotes, 
with  evident  hope  of  gaining  the  sceptic's  assent  to  it,  Mr.  Newman's 
broad  assertion : — "  ]N"owhere  from  any  body  of  priests,  clergy,  or 
ministers,  as  an  order,  is  religious  progress  to  be  anticipated  till 
intellectual  ci-eeds  are  destroijed ;"  and  Mr.  Parker's  "beautiful" 
maxim: — "l^o  one  form  of  religion  is  absolutely  true;  faith  may  be 
compatible  with  them  all."  Harrington,  of  course,  has  no  special 
objection  to  the  destruction  of  creeds  so  earnestly  contended  for  by 
Messrs.  Parker  and  JN^ewman  and  their  allies,  and,  seeing  that  he 
lives  and  moves  and  has  his  being  in  an  atmosphere  of  doubt,  it 
matters  little  to  him  if  priests,  clergy,  and  ministers  were  all  involved 
"as  an  order"  in  the  same  destruction.  As  usual,  however,  he  has 
difficulties,  and  throws  the  dark  shadow  of  his  scepticism  over  his 
friend's  attempted  illumination.  "  If  I  understand  you,"  he  says, 
"an  acceptable  faith  may,  or  may  not,  coe.xist  with  a  true  belief; 
and  men  who  believe  in  Jupiter  or  Jehovah,  in  one  God  or  a 
thousand,  who  worship  the  sun,  or  an  idol,  or  a  cat,  or  a  moukcy, 
all  may  have  an  equally  acceptable  faith."    . 

This  is  carrying  out  the  dogma  to  its  legitimate  results.  It  is. 
in  other  words,  Mr.  Parker's  own  statement.  Here  it  is :— "  The 
principle  of  true  faith  may  be  found  to  coexist  with  the  grossest 
and   most   hideous   misconceptions   of   God."     Here   a  •  question 


174  The.  Eclipse  of  Faith.  [April, 

suggests  itself.  These  premises  being  granted,  is  there,  or  can  there 
be,  any  such  thing  as  idolatry  ?  ami  if  so,  what  is  it  ?  What  is 
that  thing  against  -which  the  Bible  is  so  full  of  denunciations, — 
against  which  "  the  Everlasting  fixed  his  canon'*  from  the  smoking 
summit  of  Mount  Sinai  V  In  whichever  way  the  theorists  of  the 
new  school  answer  this  question,  they  are  involved  in  an  absurdity. 
Logically,  they  ought  to  say  there  is  no  such  thing  as  idolatry. 
This  is,  doubtless,  what  they  will  say  by-and-by,  but  not  yet  have 
they  ventured  so  far.  He  is  an  idolater,  according  to  their  teaching, 
who  worships  an  idol  knowing  it  to  be  nothing  ?nore.^  He  who 
does  homage  to  a  Avooden  image,  believing  it  to  be  divine;  who 
worships  a  consecrated  wafer,  a  cat,  or  a  crocodile,  an  amulet,  or  a 
gree-gree,  supposing  them  to  be  something  more  than  they  appear 
to  be,  is  not  an  idolater.  But  does  any  one,  in  heathen  or  in  Chris- 
tian lands,  worship  anything  without  believing  it,  somehow,  in  some 
way  or  other,  to  possess  divine  attributes  '?  Is  it  not,  on  the  contrary, 
a  contradiction  in  terms  to  Bupi)ose  that  a  rational  being  can  worship 
what  he  believes  not  to  be  divine,  and  consequently  not  to  be  entitled 
to  worship  ?  Satisfy  the  Komanist  that  the  wafer  is  flour  and  water, 
and  nothing  more,  or  the  most  degraded  savage  that  the  object  of 
his  father's  worship  is  nothing  but  a  manufactured  thing,  and  it  is 
impossible  for  him  any  longer  to  ofl'or  unto  it  the  sincere  homage  of 
his  heart;  so  that  we  come  precisely  to  the  same  result,  and, 
according  to  the  "  Spiritualism  "  of  the  present  day,  there  is  no  such 
thing  as  idolatry. 

The  absurdity  that  faith  has  notliing  to  do  with  the  intellect,  but 
is  exclusively  a  state  of  the  affections,  is  well  exposed  in  the  course 
of  the  conversation  we  arc  now  considering : — 

" '  Tlie  -vrriters  yon  are  fond  of  quoting: ,'  says  Harrington,  '  very  generally 
give  an  illustration  of  the  nature  oi'  fuith  by  j)oInting  to  the  ingenuous  ti'ust 
of  a  child  in  the  -tvisdoin  and  kitulncss  of  a  pan-nt.' 

«' '  They  do.'  is  the  reply,  '  and  is  it  not  a  beautiful  illustration  ?  Utat  is 
genuine  faith,  indeed  I ' 

"  '  I  am  willing  to  take  the  illustration.  The  child  has  faith,  we  see,  in  his 
father's  superior  wisdom  and  e.xperlenced  kindness.' 

"  '  Yes.' 

"  '  lie  believes  them  therefore.' 

" '  Certainly.' 

"  '  But  Iclicf  13  renxon.' 

°  Lest  we  be  thought  to  hyperbolize  or  carictiture  the  sentiments  of  this  new 
sebool  of  Deists,  we  suljoin  a  quotation  from  Mr.  Francis  Newman's  late  work 
on  "the  Soul:" — "To  worship,"  he  says,  "as  perfect  and  injhiite,  one  ivhotn  ur 
hiow  to  be  imperfect  and  finite,  this  is  idolatry,  and,  in  any  bad  sense,  this 
alone.  ...  If  idolatry  is  to  mean  anything  wronp;  and  bad,  the  word  must  be 
reserved  for  the  cases  in  which  a  man  degrades  his  ideal  by  worshipping  some- 
thing that  falls  short  of  it." 


1853.]  The  Eclipse  of  Faith.  175 

"  *  Certainly  ;  but  faith  is  something  more  than  that.' 

"  '  No  doubt ;  but  he  does  believe  these  things.' 

" '  Yes,  certainly.' 

" '  And  if  he  did  not  believe  them  he  vronld  cer\sc  to  have  faitli.  If,  for 
instance,  he  be  convinced  that  his  father  is  mad,  or  cruel,  or  unjust,  the  state 
of  atfections  which  you  ca\\  faith  will  diminish  and  at  last  cease.'" — P.  111. 

This  is  a  conclusion  which  Mr.  Fellowcs  is  not  quite  ready  to 
admit.  And  no  -wonder,  for  it  sweeps  away  the  gossamer  fabric 
upon  which  he  delighted  to  gaze.  It  is  simple,  direct,  and  conclusive. 
It  shows  that  although  in  theory  a  distinction  may  be  maintained 
between  the  intellect  and  the  emotions,  yet  practically  they  arc  in- 
separable, and  that  faith  partakes  of  the  nature  of  the  truth  or  false- 
hood believed.  So  it  has  always  been ;  so  it  must  be,  necessarily. 
In  the  "absolute  religion"  preached  by  the  "  Spiritualists/'  of  whom 
Fellowes  is  represented  as  the  most  docile  disciple,  it  is  fundamental 
on  the  other  hand  that  faith  is  entirely  independent  of  any 
intellectual  condition — that  faith,  in  short,  may  be  just  as  real,  just 
as  acceptable  when  the  intellect  believes  a  lie  as  when  it  receives  the 
truth,  and  hence  the  argument  that  a  revelation  of  the  will  of  God 
is  unnecessary.  The  avowed  sceptic  is  very  severe,  and  deservedly 
so,  upon  this  point.  After  having  wound  up  his  antagonist  in  the 
argument,  he  says : — 

"  '■!£  this  be  the  "faitli"  to  which  you  attach  so  mu<-h  importance,  it  really 
is  not  worth  the  powder  and  shot  that  must  be  expon-k-d  in  the  controversy. 
For  my  own  part,  I  do  not  ho.^itate  to  say  that  1  wimld  rather  be  absolutely 
destitute  of  faith  alto'j:ether  than  exercise  the  nio-^t  ab^ilute  faith  ever  bestowed 
upon  a  tawdry  image  of  the  Virgin,  or  some  misshapen  beast  of  an  idol  of 
Ilindoo  or  Hottentot  workmanship.' 

" '  O  my  friend,'  cried  Fellowes,  '  do  not  thus  blaspheme  the  most  holy 
feelings  of  humanity,  however  misapplied.' 

"  'I  do  not  conceive  that  I  do  in  declaring  abhorrence  and  contempt  of  such 
perversions  of  •'  sentiment,"  however  '•  holy  "  you  may  call  them.  Hideous  as  they 
are,  however,  thoy  are  less  hideous  than  iho  halt-K'iigili  apologies  for  them  on 
the  part  of  cultivated  and  civilized  human  being-^,  like  our  "spiritual"  infidels. 
Your  tenderness  is  ludicrously  misplaced.  I  wondur  wju'thcr  the  same  apology 
would  extend  to  those  exercises  of  simple-minded  '•  fiiili,"  in  which  it  is  said 
the  Spanish  and  Portuguese  pirates  sometimes  indulged  when  they  in^plored 
the  benediction  of  their  saints  on  their  predatory  exjiedirions!  And  yet  I  see 
not  how  it  could  be  avoided ;  for  the  exorbitaneies  of  these  pirates  were  not 
more  hateful  to  humanity  than  are  the  rites  practi-ed,  and  the  duties  enjoined 
by  many  forms  of  religion.  "What  deliLditful  ingenuous  faith  and  genuine 
simplicity  of  mind  did  these  pirates  manilost!  .  .  .  The  fanaticism  of  such 
pious  and  devout  beasts  as  those  saint-loving  pirates  is  not  a  more  flagrant 
violation  of  the  principles  of  morality,  than  the  a.ls  wiiuli  flow  directly  as  the 
immediate  and  natural  expression  of  the  iufinitely  varied  but  all-polluting 
forms  of  idolatry  with  which  you  are  pleased  to  identify  your  "absolute 
religion,"  and  on  a'l  of  which  vou  suppose  an  acceptable  faith  to  be  very 
possible.'"— Pp.  113,  114. 

With  more  logical  precision,  but  less  vivacity,  our  ingenious  sceptic 
presents  his  objections  to  "the  absolute  religion"  in  a  long  and 


176  The  Eclipse  of  Faith  [April, 

elaborate  paper,  which  he  is  represented  as  reading  to  his  uncle 
and  his  friend.  Fellowes.  It  is  entitled,  "  llcusons  for  declining  the 
via  media  between  revealed  religion  and  atheism  or  scepticism ; 
with  special  reference  to  the  theories  of  Mr.  Theodore  Parker  and 
Mr.  Francis  Is'ewman."  It  is  professedly  a  narrative  of  his  own 
experience,  and  one  is  tempted  to  ask,  How  a  man  who  reasons 
so  closely  and  conclusively  still  remains  a  sceptic?  Indeed, 
Harrington's  character  here  borders  upon  the  impossible.  That, 
however,  is  no  concern  of  ours,  and  seems  not  to  have  troubled  the 
author.  Enough  for  him  and  for  us  that  the  character  is  conceivable ; 
and  it  is  amusing  at  least  to  witness  how  easily  the  sturdy  infidel, 
with  no  arguments  but  those  belonging  to  his  own  proper  armory, 
batters  down  the  dainty  citadel  of  the  superfine  religionists  who, 
like  himself,  reject  the  Bible  as  a  revelation  from  heaven.  The 
article  is  too  long  to  be  quoted  entire,  and  the  sentences  are  so 
closely  interlocked  as  to  forbid  extracts.  "We  may  advert,  however, 
to  two  or  three  points.  And  first,  the  diversity  of  sentiment  between 
the  two  great  hierophants  of  "the  absolute  religion"  upon  a  most 
vital  subject — the  immortality  of  the  soul— seems  to  require  at  their 
hands  some  explanation.  We  marvel  not  that  Harrington  was 
pothered  by  it.  Mr.  Parker's  "  sjuritual  insight "  perfectly  satisfies 
him  that  the  soul  of  man  is  immortah  The  "  inner  revelation  "  of 
Mr.  Newman,  on  the  other  hand,  leaves  the  question  in  doubt. 
For  all  he  knows,  man  dies  like  a  dog.  Strange,  that  the  imiversal 
revelation  which,  according  to  the  teaching  of  both  these  gentlemen, 
is  made  to  every  human  breast,  should  be  in  fact  nothing  better 
than  a  dark  lantern,  shedding  rays  of  light  upon  one  disciple,  while 
holding  its  opaque  sides  and  angles  steadily  to  another, — his  equal 
in  assumed  docility,  his  superior  in  softness. 

The  insuperable  difficulty  of  abstracting  the  essence  of  "the 
absolute  religion,"  of  ascertaining  precisely  what  that  is  "which 
equally  embalms  all  forms,  from  the  Christianity  of  Paul  to  the 
religion  of  the  grim  Calmuck,"  is  shown  in  strong  colours  in  the 
paper  before  us.  The  sceptic  avows  himself  to  be,  after  every  honest 
effort  he  was  capable  of  making,  very  much  like  the  man  who  tried, 
and  tried  in  vain,  to  form  in  his  mind  an  abstraction  of  the  Lord 
Mayor.  That  is  his  misfortune  certainly.  Even  Mr.  Parker  would 
admit  so  much,  and  tender  to  him  his  pity ;  while  he  himself  is  like 
the  antagonist  of  the  man  referred  to,  who  said,  and  swore  to  it, 
that  he  could  form  an  abstraction  of  a  lord  mayor,  not  only  without 
his  horse,  gown,  and  gold  chain,  but  even  witliout  stature,  feature, 
colour,  hands,  head,  feet,  or  anything  else.  It  happens — very  per- 
versely indeed  for  the  universal  acceptance  of  the  absolute  religion ; 


1853.]  The  Eclipse  of  Faith  177 

but  it  does  happen — that  the  great  majority  of  our  race  are  just  as 
incapable  of  this  profound  abstraction  as  Harrington  professes  to  be ; 
and  wo  sec  no  ray  of  hope  for  them,  unless  it  be  communicated 
through  a  "  book-revelation :"  but  that,  so  far  as  relates  to  spiritual 
thinL'S,  is,  on  the  theory  of  the  abstractionists,  an  absurd  im- 
possibility. 

J}ut  again;  the  reasons  given  by  the  new-school  "  Spiritualists" 
for  their  rejection-  of  the  Bible  as  a  revelation  of  the  Avill  of  God, 
are  shown  by  the  sceptic  to  be  equally  sufficient  to  warrant  his 
doubts  in  reference  to  the  works,  the  government,  or  even  the  exist- 
ence of  the  great  Supreme.  "  The  human  mind,"  says  Mr.  Newman, 
in  his  work  on  the  Soul,  "is  competent  to  sit  in  moral  and  spiritual 
judgment  on  a  professed  revelation,  and  to  decide  (if  the  case  seem 
to  require  it)  in  the  following  tone :  This  doctrine  attributes  to  God 
that  which  we  should  all  call  harsh,  cruel,  or  unjust  in  man :  it  is, 
therefore,  intrinsically  inadmissible ;  for  if  God  may  be  what  we 
should  call  ciiiel,  he  may  equally  well  be  what  we  should  call  a  liar ; 
and  if  so,  of  what  use  is  his  word  to  us?".  Those  special  parts  of 
the  "professed  revelation"  upon  which  Mr.  Newman  sits  "  in  spirit- 
ual judgment,"  and  which  compel  from  him  "  the  righteous  verdict "  . 
that  the  Bible  cannot  be  from  God,  are  precisely  those  upon  which 
infidels  of  every  class  have  harped  their  doleful  music  from  the 
beginning.  The  command  to  Abraham  to  sacrifice  his  son,  is  what 
ice  should  call  cruel ;  the  approbation  of  Siscra's  murder  b}'  the 
wife  of  lleber,  although  the  approbation  on  the  part  of  God  is  only 
inferential ;  and  more  especially  the  command  to  exterminate  the 
Canaanites,  are,  "  in  our  judgment,"  harsh  and  unjust,  and  therefore 
intrinsically  inadmissible,  and  therefore  the  Bible  which  relates 
them  must  be  rejected.     So  be  it,  says  the  sceptic, — 

.  .  .  .  "  and  yet  does  not  God  do  still  more  startling  tilings  every  day  of  our 
lives,  andwhioh  appear  less  startling  only  because  ^\e  are  taniiliar  with  them, — 
at  least,  if  we  believe  that  the  elements,  pestilenee,  famine,  iu  a  word,  destruc- 
tion in  all  its  forms,  really  fulfd  his  bidding?  Is  there  any  ditlerence  in  the 
•world  between  the  eases,  except  that  the  terrible  phenomena  which  we  find 
it  impossible  to  account  for  are  on  an  infinitely  larger  scale,  and  in  duration 
as  ancient  as  the  world  ?  that  they  have,  in  fact,  been  going  on  for  thousands 
of  weary  years?  Does  not  a  pestilence  or  a  famine  send  thousands  of  the 
pruilty  and  the  innocent  alike — nay,  thousands  of  those  who  know  not  their 
right  hand  from  their  left — to  one  common  destruction  ?  Does  not  God,  if 
you  sujipose  it  his  doing,  swallow  up  whole  cities  by  earthquake,  or  overwhelm 
thorn  with  volcanic  fires  ?  I  say,  Is  there  any  ditlerence  between  the  eases, 
Cxcc[,t  that  the  victims  are  very  i-arely  so  wicked  as  the- Canaanites  are  sivid 
to  have  been,  and  that  God,  in  the  one  case,  limsclf  does  the  very  things 
•whidi  he  commissions  men  to  do  in  the  other  ?  Xow,  if  the  /king  be  wron?, 
I,  for  one,  bl-.all  never  think  it  less  wTong  to  do  it  one's  self  than  to  do  it  by 
proxv.  .  .  .  "Why,  if  God  does  not  mind  f/om/7  such  things,  are  we  to  suppose 
tkit  Le  mimls  on  some  oecaMons  orderinfj  them  to  be  done  ?  unless  we  suppose 


178  The  Eclijise  of  Faith.  [April, 

that  man — deli<^ate  croature  ! — has  more  refined  intuitions  of  right  and  ■wronnr, 
and  knows  better  -what  they  are  than  God  himst-lt'.  Xow,  ]SIr.  Newman  and 
you  alhnn,  that  to  supjwse  God  should  have  enjoined  tlie  dovtruction  of  the 
Canaanites  is  a  contradiction  of  our  moral  intuitions,  and  that  for  this  and 
similar  reasons  you  cannot  believe  the  Bible  to  be  the  icnrd  of  God.  Tlie 
tilings  I  have  mentioned  are  in  still  more  glaring  con-tradiction  to  such  '  intu- 
itions,' than  which  none  appears  to  me  more  clear  than  this — that  the  morally 
innocent  ought  not  to  sutler;  and  I  tUrefore  doubt  u-helher  the  above  phenom- 
ena are  the  u-ork  of  God.  I  must  refuse,  on  the  very  same  priuciple  on  which 
!Mr.  Newman  disallows  the  Bible  to  be  a  true  revelation  of  such  a  Bein^T.  to 
allow  this  universe  to  be  so.  In  Cfiually  glaring  inconsistency  is  tlie  entire 
administration  of  this  lower  worhl  with  what  appears  to  me  a  first  principle  of 
moral  rectitude — namely,  that  he  ■who  suffers  a  wrong  to  be  inflicted  on 
anotlier,  where  he  can  prevent  it,  is  responsible  for  the  wrong  itself." — 
Pp.  150,  153. 

The  -whole  course  of  reasoning  pursued  by  the  sceptic  on  these 
topics  appears  to  us  perfectly  conclusive.  There  is,  absolutely,  no 
middle  -vvay  between  the  religion  of  the  Bible  and  no  religion  at  all. 
If  there  are  difnculties,  and  it  is  freely  conceded  that  there  are  diffi- 
culties in  revelation,  there  are  still  greater  difliculties  in  every 
scheme  that  man's  ingenuity  has  suggested  in  its  place.  The  fact 
is  admirably  shown  in  what  is  perhaps  the  most  ingenious  part 
of  the  volume  before  us.  It  is  an  account  of  a  select  party  at  the 
house  of  Harrington,  where  are  assembled  representatives  of  all  the 
more  prominent  forms  of  belief  and  infidelity.  The  uncle,  an  old- 
fashioned  believer  in  the  Bible,  is  of  course  invited,  and  Mr.  Tel- 
lowes,  the  implicit  follower  of  the  absolute  religion  that  needs  no 
Bible.  There  are  two  Koman  Catholics — one  a  bigoted  priest,  the 
other  a  more  liberal  layman ;  three  rationalists,  one  of  them  a  de- 
voted follower  of  Strauss ;  one  deist,  of  the  old  school ;  an  atheist, 
of  the  Miss  Martineau  stamp ;,  and  a  young  student,  "  five  hundred 
fathoms  in  German  philosophy."  Truly  it  is  a  queer  company ; 
and  the  manner  in  which  one  absurdity'  is  set  off  against  another,  is 
most  amusing.  As  was  natural,  each  became  more  anxious  to  prove 
that  his  7node  of  proving  Christianity  Ailse  is  the  true  mode,  than 
to  prove  the  falsehood  of  Christianity  itself. 

'"I  tcU  you  what,' said  the  Straussian,  with  some  warmth,  'sooner  than 
believe  all'the  absurdities  of  such  an  hvpotliesis  as  that  of  Paulus,  I  could  be- 
lieve Christianity  to  be  what  it  professi's  to  be.* 

"  'I  may  say  the  same  of  that  of  Strauss,'  said  the  other,  with  equal  as- 
perity ;  '  if  I  had  no  better  escape  than  his,  I  could  say  to  him,  as  Agrippa 
said  to  Paul,  "  Almost  thou  ])ersuadest  me  to  be  a  Christian." ' 

"  '  For  my  i)art,'  exclaimed  the  deist,  who  was  perfectly  contented  -with  his 
brief  solution,  '  I  should  rather  say,  as  Festus  .said  to  Paul,  "  Much  learning 
hath  made  you  both  mad;"  and  sooner  than  believe  the  im])ossIbIlities  of  the 
theory  of  either, — sooner  than  suppose  men  honesd'/  an<i  f/ulli.lc.s.-fh/  to  have  mis- 
led the  world  by  a  book  which  you  and  I  admit  to  be  a  tissue  of  fables,  legends, 
and  mystical  nonsense, — I  could  find  it  in  my  heart  to  go  over  to  the  Pope 
himself.' 


1853.3  The  Eclipse  of  Faith.  179 

"  ♦  Good !'  •whispered  our  host,  (the  universal  sceptic,)  '  we  shall  have  them 
all  bc'i-ouiinij  Christians  by-and-by,  just  to  spite  one  another.'  The  admirer  of 
Mr.  Atkiu.iou  and  Miss  Martincau  here  reminded  the  company  that  the  mira- 
cles of  the  New  Testament  mir/Id  be  true — only  the  result  of  Mesmerism. 
*  Christ,'  sail]  he, — to  employ  the  words  of  Mr.  Atkinson, — '  was  constitutionally 
a  churroi/cnt  ....  Prophecy,  and  miracle,  and  inspiration,  are  the  ellect.s  of  «/^- 
rion/ia/ conditions  of  man. .  .  .  Prophecy,  clairvoyance,  healing  by  touch,  visions, 
dn>an»s,  revelations,  are  now  knou-n  to  be  simple  matters  in  nature,  -which  may  be 
induced  at  will,  and  experimented  upon  at  our  firesides  here  in  ringland  (cliiMate 
and  other  circumstances  permitting)  as  -well  as  in  the  Holy  Land.'*  But  no 
one  seemed  ]>repared  to  receive  this  liy])othesis.  At  last  our  host,  addrcssinc; 
the  deist,  siud:  '  But  you  forget,  Mr.  M.,  that  though  you  find  it  insurmount^ 
ably  difHcult  to  conceive  a  book  full  of  lies  (as  you  express  it  to  have  been)  con- 
sciously or  unconsciously  the  product  of  honest  and  guileless  minds,  you  ought 
to  find  it  a  little  diincult  to  conceive  a  bcKak  (as  you  admit  the  New  Testament 
to  be)  of  profound  moral  worth  produced  by  shameless  impostors.  But  let  that 
pass.  Let  us  assume  that  Christianity,  as  a  supernaturally  revealed  and  mi- 
raculously authenticated  system,  is  talse,  though  you  are  dolefully  at  variance 
a.s  to  how  it  is  to  be  proved  to  be  so  ;  let  us  assume,  I  say,  that  this  system  is 
false,  and  dismiss  it.  I  am  much  more  anxious  to  hear  what  is  the  positive 
system  of  religious  truth,  which  you  arc  of  course  each  persuaded  is  the  true 
one.  I  have  left  oil'  to  "  seek  ;"  but  if  any  one  will  find  the  truth  for  me,  with- 
out my  seeking  it,  how  rejoiced  shall  I  be.'  " — Pp.  181,  182. 

Of  course,  each  of  the  visitors  is  ready  to  help  the  sceptic  to  find 
"  the  truth."  The  only  difficulty  is  that  no  two  of  them  agree,  and  at 
every  step  in  the  enlightening  process  the  advocate  of  any  theory 
finds  all  the  rest  in  bitter  hostility.  The  "  Straussian"  has  as  little 
sympathy  from  the  admirer  of  Miss  Martineau,  as  the  follower  of 
Hegel  from  the  bigoted  Papist ;  and,  while  they  all  regard  the  old- 
fashioned  believer  in  the  Bible  as  a  strange  creature,  staring  at  him 
as  they  would  at  the  remains  of  a  viegatlierium,  they  very  success- 
fully confound  one  another  without  convincing  anybody.  Har- 
rington, of  course,  enjoys  the  v.hole  scene  hugely,  and  pits  the 
advocate  of  one  theory  against  another  with  admirable -adroitness. 
Alluding  to  his  admiring  countryman's  neoteric  propensities,  he 
sarcastically  observes : — 

...."'  In  many  cases  we  are  too  late  in  changing  our  metaphysical  fashions, 
w  that  we  sometimes  take  up  with  rapture  a  man  whom  the  Germans  are 
just  beginning  to  cast  aside.  Our  servile  imitatoi-s  live  on  the  crumbs  that 
fall  from  the  German  table,  or  run  otl  Avith  a  -vvell-picked  bone  to  their  ken- 
nel, as  if  it  were  a  treasure,  and  growl  and  show  their  teeth  to  any  one  that 
approaches  them.  In  -very  superlluous  terror  of  being  deprived  of  it.  It  wouM 
he  well  if  they  were  to  imitate  the  importers  of  Parisian  fashions,  and  let  us 
know  what  is  the  philosophy  or  theology  a-la-mode,  that  we  may  not  run  a 
chance  of  a^ipearing  perfect  frights  in  the  estimate  of  even  the  Germans  them- 
*.,-lvfi."'_l'.  191, 

After  the  champions  of  the  several  theories  have  pretty  well  ex- 
hausted their  dialectic  skill,  and  our  author  has  shown  up  the  an- 

"  lie  cited  the  substance  of  those  sentiments.  I  have  since  rcferretl  to,  and 
here  quote,  the  i>Ji«sima  verba.     See  "  Letters,"  &c.— I'p.  175,  21ii. 


180  The  Eclipse  of  Faith.  [April, 

tipodal  contrast  between  the  Romanist,  who  deems  the  Bible  too 
precious  to  be  intrusted  to  vulgar  hands,  and  the  "Newmnnite," 
who  estimates  it  as  perfectly  worthless  and  nonsensical,  the  uncle, 
by  permission  of  the  company,  gives  them  a  detailed  account  of  his 
own  religious  experience.  He  shows  how  it  was  that,  in  his  own 
language,  infidelity  prevented  his  becoming  an  iifidel,  in  a  narra- 
tive, whether  of  actual  occm-rences  or  fictitious  we  cannot  say,  but 
certainly  of  gi-eat  verisimilitude.  As  with  most  young  men,  it  was 
rather  the  stern  morality  of  the  New  Testament  than  its  super- 
natural history  that  induced  him  to  seek  for  arguments  to  prove 
its  falsity.  He  was  not  insensible  to  the  advantages  of  infi- 
delity,— its  very  accommodating  ethics,  its  large  liberty  for  the 
indulgence  of  appetite,  and  its  total  negation  of  all  account- 
ability in  a  future  state.  But  then  nature  had  endowed  him  with 
prudence  as  well  as  passion,  and  he  wanted  proof  of  the  falsity  of 
Christianity,  and  evidence  of  the  truth  of  some  one  or  other  of  the 
opposing  theories.  These  he  professes  to  have  sought  with  all  dili- 
gence. He  went  from  one  sceptic  to  another.  He  conversed  with 
men  of  every  shade  of  sentiment.  He  listened  with  candour  to  the 
theorists  who  resolve  everything  into  chance,  to  those  who  demon- 
strate that  there  is  no  God,  and  to  those  who  are  equally  positive 
that  everything  is  God.  On  the  subject  of  miracles  especially,  he 
found  a  most  plentiful  variety  of  sentimc-nt  and  dogmatism.  One 
class  declared  all  miracles  to  be  ab.solutely  impossible ;  another 
would  not  presume  to  deny  their  po.-sihiliiy,  but  were  quite  certain 
that  no  amount  of  evidence  would  establish  the  fact  of  their  occur- 
rence; while  a  third,  admitting  miracles  to  have  been  wrought, 
maintained  their  utter  incompetency  to  est^xblish  or  attest  a  moral 
truth.  But  w.e  may  not  follow  him  through  the  perplexing  dilem- 
mas in  which  he  found  himself  successively  involved.  Suffice  it  to 
say,  that  he  was  driven  to  the  adoption  of  Christianity  by  the  mani- 
fest and  palpable  conh'adictions  of  the  opposing  theories,  and  proves 
conclusively  that  it  requires  stronger  faith— a  faith  which  might 
rather  be  called  credulity  —  to  rvjcct  than  to  receive  Chris- 
tianity. 

We  must,  however,  advert  briefly  to  the  author's  masterly  argu- 
ment on  the  subject  of  minicles.  It  \a  couched  in  a  dialogue  be- 
tween Harrington  and  his  friend,  and  is.  in  many  respects,  the  most 
valuable  portion  of  his  book.  Fussing  by  the  difficulty  of  answering- 
the  question,  \Yhat  is  a  miracle  V  and  accepting  the  definition  that  it 
is  a  suspension  or  violation  of  a  law  of  nature,  without,  however 
being  able  to  define  Avhat  a  "law  of  nature"  is,  the  friends  find 
themselves  plunging  from  one  absurdity  into  another : — 


1853.]  The  Eclipse  of  Faith.  181 

....♦'•  If  we  were  told,'  says  Harrington,  '  tliat  last  year  an  event  of  such  t 
miraculous  nature  occurred  as  that  the  earth  did  not  revolve  for  twenty-tour 
hours  to<„'cther,  we  should  at  once  reject  it  without  any  examination  of  wit- 
noMfM,  or  troublins  ourselves  with  anything  of  the  kind.' 

" '  Unquestionably.' 

"  •  And  If  it  were  said  to  have  occurred  twenty  years  ago,  we  should  tak;? 
the  same  course.' 

" '  Certainly.' 

"  '  And  so  if  any  such  event  were  said  to  have  occurred  eighteen  hundreif 
years  ago  ? 

" '  Agreed.' 

'■ '  And  if  such  events  were  said  at  that  day  to  have  occuiTcd  eighteen  hun- 
dred years  previously,  we  believe,  of  coui-se,  the  men  of  that  time  would  har^^ 
l)een  equally  entitled  to  reason  in  the  same  way  about  them  as  ourselves  ;  aciL. 
in  sliort,  that  ice  may  fearlessly  apply  the  same  principle  to  the  same  epoch." 

" '  Of  course.' 

"  '  And  so  for  two  thousand  years  before  that ;  and,  in  fact,  we  must  belii'T*^ 
tliat  everything  has  always  been  going  on  in  the  same  manner, — the  sun  alwaj'  j 
rising  and  setting,  men  dying  and  never  rising  again,  and  so  forth.' 

"  •  Exactly  so,  even  from  the  beginning  of  the  creation,'  said  Fellowes. 

"'The  beginning  of  the  creation!  My  good  fellow,  I  do  not  understiimi 
you.  As  we  have  been  going  back,  we  have  seen  that  there  is  no  jioriod  iz 
wliich  the  same  principle  of  judgment  will  not  apply,  and  following  it  tlMr- 
lessly,  I  say  that  we  are  bound  to  believe  that  there  never  has  been  i 
j)eriod  when  the  present  order  has  been  ditTerent  from  what  it  is ;  in  otiier 
woi-ds,  that  the  progi-ession  has  been  an  eternal  one.' " 

Of  coui-se  Mr.  Parker's  disciple  is  not  prepared  to  admit  tlii?. 
He  resorts  to  the  usual  sophistical  evasions.  Creation,  forsooth,  i? 
not  to  be  considered  as  a  miracle,  although  manifestly  it  come? 
within  the  limits  of  the  definition  of  the  -vN'ord  as  mutually  agrec-i 
upon  by  the  disputants,  being  a  violation  of  the  previously  esr;i':- 
li.shed  series  of  antecedents  and  consequents.  The  first  appeararK.-e 
of  a  living  man  in  our  -world  was  an  event  of  the  same  nature: 
although  a  greater  wonder  than  would  be  the  reviviscence  of  a  dea  i 
body.    Pressed  with  this  difficulty,  Mr.  Fellowes  says : — 

"  '  It  is  impossible,  in  the  face  of  geologists,  to  contend  that  there  have  nw 
been  many  such  revolutions  in  the  history  of  the  world  as  these.  Man  hini- 
self  is  of  comparatively  recent  introduction  into  our  system.'" 

To  which  Harrington  replies  : — 

*' '  I  cannot  help  what  the  geologists  affirm.  If  we  are  to  abide  by  our  prlnc- 
ph',  we  have  no  warnint  to  believe  that  there  have  been  any  suoh  viola tii.'n-v 
or  infractions,  or  revolutions  of  nature's  laws  in  the  world's  history.  If  tiic* 
contend  for  the  interpolation  of  events  in  the  history  of  the  universe,  wui|.o-_ 
bv  our  criterion,  are  of  the  nature  of  miracles,  and  we  are  convinced  tii.i: 
iniraclos  are  impossible,  we  must  reject  the  conclusions  of  geologists.* " 

Tliis  is  very  clear;  but,  unfortunately,  the  Spiritualists  auti  tuc 
advocates  of  the  "absolute  religion"  which  needs  no  J>ible.  arv 
prcat  admirers  of  the  geologists,  regarding  them  as  their  naian*: 
allies  in  the  great  work   of  fastening  absurdities  on  the  Mosax 


182  The  Eclipse  of  Faith.  [Aprn,' 

records.     The  only  plausible  answer  to  the  difficulty  is  given  by 
Fellowcs : — 

"  *  May  we  not  sav,'  he  a?ks,  '  that  the  great  epochs  in  the  history  of  the 
universe  are  themselves  but  the  manitl-station  of  law  V  " 

To  this  the  answer  is  very  simple.  If  the  great  epochs  in  the 
world's  history  are  manifestations  of  law,  why  may  not  the  believer 
in  the  actual  occurrence  of  miracles  place  tlicin  in  the  same  category? 
After  dwelling  a  moment  on  this  point,  the  scepdc  asks,  amiusingly 
and  conclusively : — 

"*If  you  saw  now  introduced  on  the  earth,  for  tlie  first  time,  a  beino-  as 
unlike  man  as  man  is  nnliku  the  other  aninial>,7-say  with  seven  senses,  wintrs 
on  his  slioulders,  a  pair  of  eyes  behind  liis  head  as  well  as  in  front  of  it,  and 
the  tail  of  a  peacock,  by  way  of  finishing  hiui  oil'  handsomely, — would  you 
not  call  such  a  ]>henomenon  a  miracle  V' 

" '  I  think  I  should,'  said  Fellowes.  laughinir. 

" '  And  if  the  creature  died,  leaving  no  i>suc,  would  you  continue  to  call 
it  so  ?' 

" '  Yes.' 

" '  But  if  you  found  he  was  the  head  of  a  rac<',  as  man  was,  and  a  whole 
nation  of  such  monsters  sjiriniring  from  him,  then  would  you  say  that  this 
wonderful  intrusion  into  the  sjihere  of  our  exiierlence  was  no  miracle,  but  that 
it  was  accoitling  to  laicf 

"  '  I  should.' 

" '  Yerily,  my  dear  friend.  I  am  afraid  the  world  will  laugh  at  us  for  makint^ 
such  fantastical  distinctions.  The  infraction  of  -  established  sequences  "  ceases 
to  be  miraculous,  if  the  wonder  is  perpetnatcd  and  sufficiently  multiplied  ! 
Meantime,  what  becomes  of  the  prodigy  during  the  time  in  which  it  is  uncer- 
tain whether  anything  will  come  of  it  or  not  V  " — Pp.  250,  259. 

The  distinctions  are,  indeed,  "  fantastical ;"  and  the  idea  of  wait- 
ing to  see  whether  the  wonder  is  to  be  repeated  before  giving  or 
withholding  the  name  of  miracle,  is  sufficiently  ludicrous.  But 
Harrington  presses  his  friend  still  more  closely  on  another  point 
Referring  to  the  Eastern  prince  mentioned  by  Hume,  he  contends 
that,  in  the  absence  of  all  experience  of  liis  own,  or  of  those  around 
him,  the  royal  sceptic  was  perfectly  right  in  disbelieving  the  exist- 
ence of  such  a  thing  as  ice.  He  had  never  beheld  solid  water,  nor 
had  any  of  hi.s  associates.  True,  they  had  testimony  from  those 
who  had  seen  the  phenomenon ;  but  the  dictum  of  our  unbelievincr 
philosophers  is,  "  A'o  testimony  can  establish  a  miracle."  In  the 
language  of  Hume  himself,  "Nature  does  not  transgress  certain 
limits  either  in  the  moral  or  physical  world."  Xow,  for  water  to 
become  solid,  would  be,  in  the  estimation  of  a  dweller  in  the  tropics, 
a  palpable  transgression  of  nature's  limits ;  and  if  he  is  justified 
in  the  assumption  that  no  testimony  can  establish  such  a  trans- 
gression, it  is  most  certain  he  ought  to  continue  to  doubt  the  pos- 
sibility of  such  a  phenomenon  as  ice.     The  conclusion  evidently  is, 


1853.]  The  Eclipse  of  Faith.  183 

that  the  prince  was  perfectly  right  in  disbelieving  what  ice  know  to  be 
the  truth ;  or  that  our  uniforra  experience,  with  its  limited  variations, 
is  no  sufficient  test ;  and  that  there  are  cases  for  which  it  makes  no 
provision,  among  which  what  are  called  miracles  may  be  classed. 

J3ut  further,  on  the  supposition  that  miracles  are  an  impossi- 
bility and  an  absurdity /)€r  se,  how  are  we  to  dispose  of  that  mass 
of  testimony  which  afSrms  the  contrary — which  declares  and  persists 
in  the  declaration,  in  defiance  of  contempt,  and  injury,  and  suffering, 
that  such  things  have  been?  It  is  certainly  contradictory  to  our 
experience,  that  under  such  circumstances  men  would  persist  in 
these  declarations.  Such  a  complication  of  false  testimony  would 
be  "  a  flagrant  violation  of  the  established  series  of  sequences,"  on 
which,  as  applied  to  the  physical  world,  theijceptic  justifies  himself 
in  rejecting  all  miracles.  In  other  words,  he  gets  rid  of  miracles,  in 
connexion  with  material  things,  by  SAvallowing  miracles  connected 
with  mind.  On  this  point,  in  answer  to  the  suggestion  of  his  friend, 
that  there  never  was  such  a  case  of  testimony,  the  sceptic  replies : — 

"  *  I  wisli  this  could  help  us ;  but  it  plainly  -vnIII  not,  because  tvc  have  con- 
cluded tliat,  if  there  rcerc  such  testunony,  ive  mu.<t  believe  it  false There 

hi^  been,  in  tlie  opinion  of  millions,  testimony  often  given  to  miracles,  ■nhlcb, 
if  false,  does  imply  that  the  laws  of  human  nature  have  been  turned  topsy- 
turi-ijy  and  1,  for  my  part,  know  not  how  to  disprove  it.  If,  in  such  case,  the 
testimony,  the  falsiti/  of  tchich  iroidd  he  a  miracle,  is  not  to  be  rejected,  then 
we  must  admit  that  the  miracle  which  it  supports  is  true.  ....  If  you  believe 
the  testimony  lalse,  you  must  believe  the  alleged  miracle  false  ;  but  you  will 
have  tlien  the  moral  miracle  to  hrtl''ce.  If  you  believe  the  testimony  true, 
vou  will  then  believe  the  physical  miracle  true.  Perhaps  the  best  way  will 
be  to  disbelieve  both  alternatelv  in  rapid  succession,  and  you  will  then  hardly 
perceive  the  dlfliculty  at  all !'" — Pp.  275,  27G. 

But  the  friends  run  themselves  into  a  still  worse  dilemma.  "What 
should  we  do,  or  in  what  state  of  mind  should  we  be  if  wo  did  see 
a  miracle  ?  is  the  question  gravely  proposed  by  the  sceptic,  to  which 
Fellowes  replies : — 

^  "  '  Of  what  use  is  the  discussion  of  such  a  particular  case,  when  you  know  it 
IS  impossible  tliat  we  should  ever  see  it  realized  ?' 

"'  Of  course  it  is,'  says  Harrington,  'just  as  it  is  impo.<slhle  that  we  should 
ever  see_  levers  perfectly  inilexible,  or  cords  perfectly  ilcxible.  Nevertheless, 
It  Is  perfectly  possible  to  entertain  such  a  hypothetical  case,  and  to  reason  with 
{Treat  conclusiveness  on  the  conseciuenccs  of  such  a  supposition,  and  in  the 
eaine  w-ay  we  can  imagine  that  we  ha\  e  seen  a  miracle  ;  and  what  tlien  ?' 

"' '  »V  hy,  if  we  were  to  .<ee  one,  of  course  seeing  is  believing.  We  nuist  give 
up  our  principle,*  said  Fellowes,  laughing. 

'"  Do  you  think  so  ?  I  think  we'should  be  very  f(X>lish  then.  How  can  we 
bo  fur*;  that  we  have  seen  it?  Can  it  appeal  to'anvthins  stronger  than  our 
*'-'Wsf  and  have  not  our  senses  often  beguiled  us?  Must  we  not  niihcr 
abi(..e  by  tliat  general  induction  from  the  evidence  to  which  our  ordinal  y  ox[>e- 
mnce  points  us  ?  In  other  words,  ought  we  not  to  adiiere  to  the  great  prin- 
ciple wo  have  already  laid  down,  that  a  miracle  is  impossible  ?"' 


184  The  Eclipse  of  Faith.  [April, 

Fellowes  perceives  the  absurdity  of  adliering  to  the  principle  laid 
do^vn  in  opposition  to  the  evidence  of  his  o\sn  eyesight.  He 
replies : — 

•"But,  according  to  this,  if  we  err  in  t!iat  jmnciplo,  and  God  were  to  work 
a  miracle  for  tlie  very  purpose  of  convincing  us,  il  troiild  be  impossible  for  Jiim 
to  attain  his  purpose.'" — P.  277. 

Nothing  can  be  more  conclusive ;  and  it  is  somewhat  marvellous 
that  men  so  sagacious  as  Mr.  Parker,  and  so  devout  as  Mr.  New- 
man, have  not  ali-eadj  perceived  that  the  position,  "  Miracles  are 
impossible,"  is  notliing  morn}  nor  loss  than  a  limitation  of  power  that 
is  almighty;  and  the  conclusion  Harrington  reaches  is  logically 
correct:  If  I  believe  tliat  a  iniraclc  is  impossillc,  I  must  admit 
that  if  I  err  in  that,  it  is  impossible  for  God  himself  to  convince 
7ne  of  it. 

There  is  one  other  point  to  which  we  mny  advert  briefly.  It  is 
this  :  "  Uniform  experience,"  as  the  phrase  is,  being  against  the 
possibility  of  miracles,  it  ouglit  to  fnllow  that  the  mass  of  mankind 
do  not  believe  in  them,  never  did,  and  never  will.  Now  the  fact  is 
directly  and  notoriously  the  reversx\  The  existence  of  a  Supreme 
Being  having  been  admitted,  the  human  mind  seems,  spontaneously 
and  almost  universally,  to  connect  with  his  existence  the  perform- 
imce  of  miracles,  and  finds  no  diflioulty,  in  the  absence  of  all  expe- 
rience, in  resting  its  belief  on  the  testimony  of  others.  This  testimony 
may  bo  oral  or  written ;  and,  as  it  is  wt-il  expressed  by  our  author. 
it  is  a  part  of  orir  uniform  cxjicricnco  on  this  subject,  that  mankind 
disregard  and  disbelieve  the  ks.^ous  of  their  uniform  experience. 
Says  Harrington : — 

"  '  This  is  ahiio<t  a  niiracKr  of  it.-M  h';  at  all  event?  a  curious  paradox,  but  one 
which  we  must  nut  >Uy  to  e.\.i!nin.- ;  thou-h  1  f.mfcjs  it  leads  to  one  other  hu- 
miliatlnrr  conclusion.— a  little  citrulLtry.  wliir),  I  i},i„t  it  is  not  unimportant  to 
mark, — and  that  i«.  that  we  can  ncvir  c\jx-ct  thc.«o  enlightened  views  of  ours  to 
spread  among  the  nin:^«  nf  niaiikinii :  .  .  .  .  tiu-l  ;hou<ih  tniracles  never  can  be  real 
thr'i  rrill,  ucccrlhd' .<f.  >i!":,>,.<^  t.r  (..■lire,};  n„f{  that,  thoiuih  the  truth  is  with 
rts,  it  can  never  he  cstabllsJifl  in  tfn'  tnim!.'^  of  men  in  ijrncral.' " P,  281. 

After  thoroughly  exhausting  the  subject  of  miracles,  our  author 
ttmis  his  attention  to  theipiestion  o[  Itnioric  rredihilitij,  as  involved 
in  the  theory  of  th.e  ceM)rated  J^trau.-:<.  That  theory  has  its  founda- 
tion in  the  fact  that  certain  ap[>a!ent  contradictions  and  seemin'^ 
inconsistencies  iiave  been  detecto-i  in  the  narrative  parts  of  the 
Bible,  and  therefore  the  whole  of  it  is  unworthy  of  credence,  and  is 
to  be  regartled  as  mythic,  legendary,  and  fabulous.  In  a  conversation 
between  Harrington  and  -a  devout  ailinirer  of  Strauss,"  it  is  shoTvu. 
with  great  clearness,  that  the  same  arguments  wliich  bear  a^-ainst 
the  credibility  of  tlie  Scriptunil  nan-atives  may  be  urged  with"equal 


1853.1  The  Eclipse  of  Faith.  185 

plausibility  a;:^ainst  all  history  Avliatcver ;  and  that,  on  the  same 
principles,  the  -whole  of  it  must  be  abandoned  to  scepticism.  Than 
the  {Sacred  {Scriptures  there  are,  certainly,  no  ^vritings  -which  have 
been  more  ri^^idly  scrutinized,  and  none  -which  bear  greater  evi- 
dences of  tnistworthincss,  and,  at  the  same  time,  none  of  any  mag- 
nit  uile  iu  ^vhich  greater  discrepancies  may  not  be  found  ;  and  hence, 
uj)on  the  principle  of  Strauss,  -we  must  reject  not  only  the  narra- 
tives of  the  Evangelists,  but  those  of  every  historian,  ancient  and 
modern,  profane  as  -well  as  sacred. 

Pursuing  this  line  of  argument,  the  author  sho^ws  that  no  event 
whatever  may  not  become  a  subject  of  very  serious  doul)t,  if  tor- 
tured in  a  critical  alembic,  like  that  by  which  Strauss  and  his  asso- 
ciates profess  to  try  the  narratives  of  the  sacred  writers.  In  a 
section  entitled,  "  The  papal  aggression  shoicn  to  be  impossible,'"' 
supposed  to  be  written  by  a  learned  critic  eighteen  hundred  and 
fifiy  years  hence,  it  is  made  very  manifest  that  the  -well-known  at- 
tempt of  the  Pope  to  reestablish  the  Ptoraish  hierarchy  in  England 
two  years  ago,  is  merely  a  figment  of  the  imagination;  or,  at  any 
rate,  that  it  cannot  be  received  as  a  literal  statement  of  historic 
truth.  The  learned  doctor  examines  the  narrative  internally  and 
externally.  In  a  manner  perfectly  Straussian,  he  detects  discrep- 
ancies and  absurdities,  and  spreads  them  before  the  reader  with 
wonderful  complacency  and  the  greatest  possible  air  of  candour  and 
honesty.  lie  admits,  indeed,  that  there  may  have  been  "  some 
nucleus"  of  fact  which  served  as  the  basis  of  this  pseudo-historical 
legend,  but  points  out  unequivocal  traces  of  "  unhistoric  origin." 
Finally,  he  comes  to  the  conclusion  that  the  story  of  Pio  Nono's 
division  of  England  into  twelve  sees,  with  a  Eomish  bishop  at  the 
head  of  each,  and  the  appointment  of  Nicholas  "Wiseman  as  Arch- 
bishop of  Westminster  and  cardinal,  is  nothing  uiore  than  an  alle- 
gorico-ecclesiastico-political  satire. 

In  examining  the  internal  evidence,  the  critic  asks,  with  an  air 
of  triumph  : — 

'• '  Is  it  possible  to  overlook  the  singular  character  of  the  naraos  -which  every- 
^^■}lOre_  meet  us  V  They,  in  fact,  tell  their  own  tale,  and  aloiost,  as  it  -svcr-, 
proclaim  of  themselves'  that  they  are  allegorical.  .  .  .  Tims  the  name  "  AVise- 
maii,"  is  evidently  chosen  to  represent  the  proverbial  craft  Mhich  -was  attributed 
to  the  Chureh  of  Kome  ;  and  '•  Nichohis  "  has  also  been  chosen,  as  I  apprehend, 
liir  tlif  purpose  of  indicating  the  source  ichcncc  that  cni/t  iras  dcrivaf.  I"/*^'' 
proh.ibihty  the  name  was  selected  just  in  the  same  manner  as  Bunvan.  in  Ins  im- 
mnrtal  I'll-rnn's  IVo-ress,  (which  still  deli-hts  the  world.)  has  choVen-' Worldly 
W  isemnn  "  Ibr  otie  of  his  characters.  It 'is  said  that  he  M-as  a  Spaniuixl :  bat 
who  so  ht  as  a  Spaniard  to  be  represented  as  the  ai^ent  of  the  Ib'ly  ht-e.  .' 
jvliij.',  as  there  never  was  a  Spaniard  of  that  name,  everv  one  ran  s.-c  that 
iMstone  probability  has  not  been  re.^ird.'d.     The  word  '•  Newman."  again,  (and 

i'oL'UTii  Skuies,  Vol.  V— i'^ 


186  The  Eclipse  of  Faith.  [April. 

observe  the  significant  flict,  that  there  -were  two  of  them,)  was,  in  all  proba- 
bility, I  may  say  certainly,  doslLaicd  to  embody  two  opjjoslte  tendencies,  both 
of  which  perll^ip^  claimed,  in  impatience  of  the  eU'ele  humanity  of  that  acce, 
(a  dead  and  stereotyped  Protestantism,)  to  introduce  a  new  order  of  things. 
These  parties  (if  I  may  form  a  conjecture  from  the  document  itself)  were 
essaying  to  extricate  the  mind  of  the  age  from  the  diiritjultics  of  its  inteUeetual 
position;  an  age,  asserting  inconsistently,  on  the  one  hand,  tlie  freedom  of  the 
spiritual  life,  and,  on  tlic  other,  claiming  for  the  Bible  an  authorized  suprem- 
acy over  .all  tlie  ]ihenomena  of  that  spiritual  life.  One  of  these  parties  sought 
to  solve  this  diliiciilty  hy  endeavouring  to  resuscitate  the  spirit  of  the  pii^t ; 
the  other,  by  attempting  to  set  human  intellect  free  from  the  yoke  of  all 
external  authority.  In  all  prol^ability  the  nanus  were  suggested  to  the  scme- 
■svhat  profane  allegorico-satirical  writer  by  that  text  in  the  English  version, 
^^Put  on  the  new  man"  the  new  man  of  the  i>pirit.  Vi'c  are  almost  driven  to 
this  conclusion  by  the  extreme  and  ludicrous  improbability  of  two  men — 
brothers,  brought  up  at  the  same  University — gradually  receding,  j^ari  passu, 
from  the  same  point  in  opposite  directions  to  the  utt(>rmost  extreme  ;  one,  till 
he  had  embraced  the  most  puerile  legends  of  the  middle  ages ;  the  other,  till 
he  had  proceeded  to  open  infidelity.  Probably  such  a  curious  coincidence  of 
events  was  never  heard  of  since  the  world  began  ;  and  this  must,  at  all  events, 
be  rejected.'"— Pp.  349,  351. 

In  the  same  strain  this  very  sagacious  critic  dissects  other  parts 
of  the  internal  evidence  of  this  strange  narrative.  In  his  most 
patient  and  painstaking  researches  into  the  archives  of  the  national 
museums  of  the  age  in  which  he  is  represented  as  living,  about 
An?w  Domini  3T00,  he  declares,  upon  his  honour,  that  he  finds  no 
mention  of  any  man  of  eminence  bearing  the  name  of  ISewman,  or  of 
Wiseman,  or  indeed  of  any  of  the  others  who  arc  said  to  have  fiinired 
during  these  singular  proceedings.  This,  at  any  rate,  he  feels  war- 
ranted in  considering  a  presumptive  proof  that  the  whole  narrative 
is  a  fiction. 

But  the  external  evidence  is  still  more  conclusive.  How  con- 
trary to  all  probability  the  statement  that  France,  of  all  the  nations 
of  Europe,  should  take  sides  with  the  Tope  against  a  republican 
movement  on  the  part  of  his  subjects  I  Did  not  the  French  emperor — 
if  there  ever  were  such  a  person,  and  xsapoleon  be  anything  more 
than  a  mytlL — imprison  the  Pope  'i  Is  not  France  represented  as 
having  been,  at  this  very  period,  racked  with  agitation,  Avith  infidel- 
ity, and  democratic  violence?  On  these  points  the  critic  dogmatizes 
with  the  flippancy  of  Strauss,  until  he  reaches  the  conclusion  that 
the  story  of  the  papal  aggression  is  what  the  German  would  make 
the  Scripture  narrative,  a  fabulous  invention,  or,  at  best,  a  conglom- 
eration of  truth  and  fiction,  so  jumbled  together  as  to  forbid  the 
possibility  of  separating  the  one  from  the  other.  Hear  how  con- 
clusively he  demonstrates  that  Avhat  ice  know  really  occurred  some 
two  years  ago  never  did  take  place,  and,  in  lact,  never  could  have 
been  anything  more  than  a  fiction  of  the  imagination  : — 


1653.]  The  EcUpse  of  Faith.  187 

"  •  That  France  should  have  undertaken  the  task  of  subduing  a  republican 
movement  ju<t  wlien  slie  had  come  out  of  a  similar  revolution,  or  rather  many 

such. and  of  reseating  the  Pope  on  his  throne,  when  she  had  been  more 

impatient  of  the  restraints  of  all  religion  than  any  other  nation  in  Europe, — is 
pfrffctly  incredible  !  2\'ot  less  improbable  is  it  that,  supposing  (as  may  per- 
haps botnie)  that  tlicte  was  a  basis  of  fact  in  the  asserted  rebellion  of  the 
iv'iMians,  and  Pio  Nono's  restoration  to  his  dominions,  (though  not  by  France — 
tlttit  the  intelliirent  reader  will  on  politico-logical  grounds  pronounce  impossible, — 
but  more  probably  by  the  Spaniards,)  yet  can  we  suppose  that  a  power  which 
w.\s  alwavs  ct-lebi-ated  for  its  astuteness  and  subtlety  would  choose  that  veiy 
uviinent  of  humiliation  and  ignominy  to  rusli  into  an  act  so  audacious  as  that 
of  reestablishing  the  Kouiish  hierarchy  in  England, — a  nation  by  far  the  most 

[)0wcrful  in  the  world  at  that  time, — a  nation  which,  if  it  had  i)leased,  could 
lave  blown  Rome  into  the  air  in  three  months  ?'  " 

Some  of  the  vrell-kno'wn  particulars  of  the  event  under  considera- 
tion are  disposed  of  in  the  same  summary  manner,  and  the  critic's 
objections  are  quite  as  strong  as  the  majority  of  those  urged  against 
the  credibility  of  the  Eible  : — 

'• '  How  ridiculous  is  the  story  of  Cardinal  "Wiseman's  pretending  that  the 
anth  in  receiving  the  pallium  had  been  modified  for  his  convenience ;  little 
less  so,  indeed,  tlian  his  challenge  to  his  Presbyterian  antagonist  to  examine  it, 
and  that,  too,  in  the  very  book  in  which  the  contested  clause  was  not  can- 
celled !  All  this  is  such  a  maze  of  absurdity  that  it  is  impossible  to  believe 
it.  In  the  first  place,  do  we  not  know  that,  throughout  the  whole  history  of 
the  Papal  power,  the  inflexible  character,  not  only  of  its  doctrines,  but  of  its 
officLal  forms  and  solemnities,  was  always  maintained,  and  that  this  pertinacity 
was  conilnually  placing  it  at  a  disadvantage  in  the  conte^t  Avith  the  more  flex- 
ible spirit  of  Protestantism  ?  It  would  I'lot  renounce,  in  terms  or  words,  the 
very  things  M-liich  it  did  renounce  in  deeds,  and  never  could  prevail  upon 
itself  to  get  over  this  unaccommodating  spirit !  Yet  here  we  are  to  believe 
that,  at  tlie  Cardluafs  request,  a  certain  part  of  a  most  solenm  ceremonial — that 
of  receiving  the  pallium — was  remitted  by  the  Pope !  If  it  were  so,  the  Car- 
dinal would  certainly  have  desired  to  conceal  it.  If  lie  could  not  have  done 
that,  he  would,  at  least,  never  have  given  so  easy  a  triumph  to  his  adversary 
as  to  challenge  him  to  inspect  the  very  co])v  of  the  pontitical,  in  which,  after 
all.  the  oaih  was  not  cancelled,  in  order  that"  he  might  be  satisfied  that  it  was  I 
Who  can  believe  that  a  cardinal  of  the  Komish  Church,  "Wiseman  or  Fool, 
would  have  been  simple  enough  for  such  a  step  as  this  ?  It  is  plain  that  the 
hi>torian  liimsell"  was  not  unaware  that  such  an  objection  would  immediately 
suL'gest  itself,  aiid  endeavours  to  guard  against  it, — a  suspicious  circumstance 
('»  il!<elf, — which  may  serve  to  warn  us  how  little  wc  can  depend  on  the  his- 
toric character  of  the  document. 

'•  '  Agaiu  ;  what  can  be  more  improbable  than  that,  when  a  great  nation  was 
convulsed  from  one  end  to  the  other,  as  the  English  are  said  to  have  been, 
there  should  have  been  no  violence,  not  even  accidentally,  attending  those 
iiuge  and  excited  assemblages  ;  a  thing  so  natural,  na}',  so  certain  I  "Who  can 
b-heve  that  only  one  mM\  was  sacriticed,  and  he  on  the  predominant  side.'' 
I  l:.ac  discovered,  in  my  laborious  researches  on  this  important  subject,  that 
only  seventy  years  before,  when  a  cry  of  the  same  nature,  but  much  h-s 
i">t»-nt,  was  n'lised,  London  was  filled  with  conllagration  and  bloodshe<I. 
\\  ho-'ver  heanl,  indeed,  of  commotion  .such  as  this  is  pretended  to  have  been, 
and  1:^5  ending  i„  cox  rt  pratcrea  nihil  ^ 

'• '  It  IS  FuperlUious  to  point  out  the  absurditv  of  supposinir  a  cardinal  of  the 
lu.imsh  Chuix-h  lecturing  the  people  of  En-Tkind  on  "  the  claim.s  of  religious 


188  The  Eclipse  of  Faith.  [April, 

liberty ;"  or  so  great  a  nation,  in  such  a  paroxysm,  spending  many  months  In 
the  concoction  ot"  a  measure  confessed  to  be  a  feeble  one,  and  suflered  to  be 
broken  with  impunity  ! 

"  '  But,  lastly,  my  laborious  researches  have  led  to  the  important  discovery, 
that  in  this  very  year  of  pretended  hot  commotion,  England — in  peace  w-ith 
all  the  world,  protbund  peace  -vvithin,  and  protbund  pi-ace  without — celebrated 
a  sort  of  jubilee  of  the  nations,  in  a  vast  building  of  glass,  (wonderful  for  those 
times,)  called  the  Great  Ex.liibition,  to  which  every  country  had  contributed 
specimens  of  the  comi)aratively  rude  manufactures  of  that  rude  age  !  London 
was  tilled  with  foreigners  from  all  })arts  of  the  earth  :  tlic  whole  kingdom  was 
in  a  commotion,  indeed,  but  a  commotion  of  ho^Jatable  festivity,  in  which  it 
shook  hands  with  all  the  world  I  This  is  a  piece  of  jiositive  evidence  which 
ought  to  settle  the  -whole  matter.  In  short,  the  external  and  internal  evi- 
dence alike  warrants  us  in  rejecting  this  absurd  >tory  as  utterly  incredible.' '' — 
Pp.  355,  357. 

Thus,  ■svith  great  plausibility,  the  case  is  raade  out ;  and  on  the 
assumption  that  probabilities  will  justify  conclusions,  like  those  to 
■which  Strauss  conducts  his  readers  in  his  Lcboi  Jcsu,  it  is  shovrn 
that  any  fact  of  history  may  be  enveloped  in  fog — questioned, 
doubted,  disproved;  nay,  by  an  ingenious  sophist,  every  event  of 
past  ages,  and  not  of  the  distant  past  only,  maybe  plausibly  argued 
into  myth,  or  allegory,  or  sheer  fiction.  Dr.  ^V'hately,  in  his  "His- 
toric Doubts,"  has  done  this  ^vith  refci-ence  to  the  Avonderful  career 
of  Napoleon  Bonaparte;  by  his  countryman,  Wolfgang  Menzel, 
Strauss  himself  has  been  demonstrated  to  be  an  imaginary  bein^; 
and,  still  more  recently,  an  ingenious  Englishman  has  disproved  the 
historical  character  of  Sir  Hobert  reel,  and  sho\Yn,  by  "a  command- 
ing probability,"  that  the  story  of  the  agitation  and  repeal  of  the 
corn-lavrs  can  be  nothing  more  than  a  cunningly-devised  fable. 

But  it  is  time  to  take  our  leave  of  this  instructive  and  entertain- 
ing volume.  From  our  copious  extracts,  the  reader  -will  be  enabled 
to  form  a  tolerably  correct  estimate  of  "  tlie  Eclipse  of  Faith," — of 
its  design  and  scope,  and  of  the  author's  skill  and  critical  acumen. 
We  have  necessarily  omitted  even  an  allusion  to  man}'  of  the  minor 
topics  "which  are  touched  upon  in  the  course  of  the  volume,  including- 
several  ingenious  digressions,  thrown  in  as  episodes,  -which,  while 
they  tend  to  the  furtherance  of  the  autlior's  main  desicm,  break  the 
monotony  of  continuous  argumentation,  and  give  increased  vivacity 
to  his  pages  without  impairing  their  strength.  We  close  this 
article  -with  a  brief  account  of  one  of  the  most  amusing  of  these  sal- 
lies. It  is  entitled  "  The  Blank  Bible,"'  being  the  relation  of  a 
dream,  suggested  evidently  by  a  remark  of  Foster,  in  his  Introduc- 
tion to  Doddridge's  "  Rise  and  Progress."     Our  author  is  indebted, 

however,  only  for  the  hint.     The  subject-matter  of  the  dream that 

in  one  night,  by  some  miraculous  agency,  every  page  of  every  Bible 
in  the  world  was  obliterated;   the  consequences  thence  rcsultinf^. 


1853.]  The  Eclipse  of  Faith.  189 

and  the  effects  thereby  produced,  are  entirely  his  own,  and  are 
rcliited  Viith  a  simplicity  and  beauty  that  remind  us  of  the  best 
papers  in  the  Essays  of  Addison.  "When,  according  to  the  vision, 
the  terrible  truth  became  public,  that  every  syllable  of  Sacred  Writ 
had  been  taken  away,  every  copy  of  the  Bible  reduced  to  blank 
paper,  and  every  quotation  from  it  in  every  other  volume  sponged 
out,  a  wide  field  is  opened  for  imagining  the  effects  of  tliis  calamity 
upon  the  varieties  of  human  character.  One  stout  sceptic  (we  can- 
not help  admiring  his  consistency)  denied  that  any  miracle  had 
been  wrought ;  and  although  piles  of  blank  Bibles  were  brought 
for-his  inspection,  he  would  sooner  believe  that  the  whole  world  was 
leagued  against  him  than  "  credit  any  such  nonsense."  JN^ay,  he 
insisted  that  they  should  show  him,  not  one  of  these  blank  books, 
•'which  could  not  impose  upon  an  owl,"  but  one  of  the  very  blank 
Bihlcs  thonselves  ;  that  is,  a  Bible  containing  every  syllable  of  the 
Old  and  Xcav  Testament,  (for  how  else  could  he  be  satisfied  that  it 
was  a  Bible?)  and  at  the  same  time  perfectly  blank;  else,  says 
he,  "  I  will  not  believe."  The  founders  of  "  the  absolute  religion," 
with  their  disciples,  were,  at  first  disposed  to  felicitate  themselves 
and  the  world  upon  the  event.  It  was  a  mercy,  rather  than  a  judg- 
ment; and  now,  at  length,  their  ardent  hopes  were  to  be  realized, 
and  mankind  delivered  from  that  Bibliolaf.ry  which  had  been 
for  so  many  ages  a  yoke  of  bondage.  But,  alas !  on  looking  into 
their  own  "  book-revelations,"  the  pages  of  Messrs.  Newman  and 
Parker,  tliey  were  found  to  be  shockingly  mutilated.  Those  inge- 
nious gentlemen  themselves  were  not  aware  for  how  many  of  their 
sentiments,  and  how  much  of  their  very  phraseology,  they  had  been 
indebted  to  the  Sacred  Scriptui'es ;  and  now  that  everything  they 
had  borrowed  was  rechiimed,  their  books  presented  nothing  but  unin- 
telligiljle  jargon,  and  were  rather  more  worthless  than  so  much  blank 
paper. 

The  Papists  rejoiced  at  the  event.  They  regarded  it  as  an 
interposition  of  Heaven  in  favour  of  "  the  true  Chm-ch,"  and  invited 
the  entire  Protestant  world  to  bow  to  the  sovereign  Pontiff,  who, 
says  the  dreamer,  "  they  truly  alleged  could  decide  all  knotty  points 
quite  as  well  without  the  word  of  God  as  witli  it."  It  was  urged 
that  the  writings  of  "the  Fathers,"  upon  which  so  much  dependence 
IS  placed  for  the  maintenance  of  tradition,  were  sadly  mutilated  by 
the  expurgation  of  all  their  Scriptural  quotations.  This,  however, 
was  decided  by  the  Jesuits  to  be  of  little  consequence.  It  was 
thou-ht,  indeed,  that  many  of  the  Fathers  were  rather  improved  by 
these  omis.sions :  and  those  who  delighted  in  their  peru.^al  found  them 
"quite as  intelligible,  and  not  less  edifying  than  ilicy  did  before." 


190  The  Eclipse  of  Faith.  [April, 

The  attempt,  on  the  part  of  learned  divines  of  all  rc]i;;fious  denom- 
inations, to  reconstruct  the  }3ible  from  memory,  is  admirably  de- 
picted. There  was,  on  the  part  of  all,  an  earnest  and  honest  desire 
to  make  the  Scriptures  just  Avhat  they  Avere  before  this  terrible 
visitation.  But  their  memories  differed,  and  led  them  into  the 
strangest  wranglings  and  disputations  : — 

"  A  certain  Quaker  had  an  impression  that  the  words  instituting  the  Eu- 
charist were  preceded  by  a  (jualitying  expression :  '  And  Jesus  said  to  the 
tirelve,  Do  this  in  renicnibrance  of  me ;'  -while  he  could  not  exactly  recollect 
whether  or  not  the  Ibrniula  of  '  Baptism'  was  expressed  in  the  general  terms 
some  maintained  it  was.  Several  Unitarians  had  a  clear  recollection  that  in 
several  places  the  authority  of  MSS ,  as  estimated  in  Griesbach's  Kecension, 
was  decidedly  against  the  common  reading  ;  wliilc  the  Trinitarians  maintained 
that  Griesbach's  liccension  in  those  instances  had  left  that  reading  undis- 
turbed. An  Episcopalian  began  to  have  his  doubts  whether  the  usage  in 
favour  of  the  interchange  of  the  words  'Bishop'  and  'Presbyter'  was  so'nni- 
form  as  the  Presbyterian  and  Independent  maintained,  and  whether  there  was 
not  a  passage  in  which  Timothy  and  Titus  v»-erc  expressly  called  'Bishops.' 
The  Presbyterian  and  Independent  had  similar  biases ;  and  one  gentleman, 
who  was  a  strenuous  advocate  of  tlie  system  of  the  latter,  entbrced  one  eqmv- 
ocal  remembrance,  by  saying  he  could,  as  it  were,  distinctly  see  the  verv 
spot  on  the  page  before  his  mind's  eye.  Such  tricks  will  imagination  plav 
with  the  memory,  where  jjreconception  i)lays  tricks  with  the  imagination  !  lii 
like  manner  it  was  seen  that,  while  the  Calvinist  was  very  distinct  in  his  recol- 
lection of  the  ninth  cliapter  of  Romans,  his  memory  was  very  iaint  as  respects 
the  exact  wording  of  some  of  the  verses  in  the  Epistle  of  James ;  and  though 
the  Arminian  had  a  most  vivacious  imi)ression  of  all  those  passages  which 
spake  of  the  claims  of  the  law,  he  was  in  some  doubt  whether  the  A]X)stlc 
Paul's  sentiments  respecting  Innnan  depravity,  and  justification  bv  faith  alone, 
had  not  been  a  little  eNnirecrated.  Jn  short,  it  very  clearlv  appeared 
that  tradition  was  no  safe  gui'le ;  that  if,  even  when  she  was  hardly  a  month 
old,  she  could  play  such  freaks  with  the  memories  of  honest  people,  there  was 
but  a  sorry  prospect  of  the  secure  transmission  of  truth  for  eighteen  hundred 
years.  From  each  man's  memory  seemed  to  glide  somethinfroi"  other  which 
he  was  not  inclined  to  retain  there,  and  each  seemed  to  substitute  in  its  stead 
something  that  he  hked  better."— Pp.  ill,  2 12. 

It  -would  not  be  difficult  to  point  out  defects  and  blemishes  in  this 
instructive  volume.  There  is,  occasionally,  a  slovenly  and  ungi\am- 
matical  sentence.  Not  unfrequently  avo  meet  with  an  uncouth  ex- 
pression and  phraseology  unpleasant  to  the  f^istidious  ear.  Were 
the  Avork  constructed  on  any  other  plan,  we  should  incline  to  dissent 
from  some  of  the  positions  taken ;  and  more  stress  than  it  is  fairly 
entitled  to,  is  now  and  then  laid  upon  an  argument.  There  is,  more- 
over, a  lack  of  courtesy  toward  his  opponents,  of  which  wc  think  the 
writer  would  not  have  been  guilty  had  he  been  preparing  an  argu- 
mentative treatise  upon  the  subjects  discussed.  That  he  was  not 
doing  this,  and  by  no  means  intended  to  refute  logically  all  the  ob- 
jections brought  against  divine  revelation,  is  a  sufficient  answer  to 
the  critical  cavils  to  Avhich  we  have  adverted.     To  have  made  his 


1853.]  Port  Royal.  191 

interlocutors  always  speak  with  rhetorical  propriety  and  strict  logi- 
cal accuracy, — to  have  cramped  them  with  the  conventional  usages 
of  courteous  theological  disputants, — would  have  marred  the  life-like 
lineaments  with  which  they  are  drawn.  The  work,  as  it  is,  success- 
fully carries  out  the  design  of  the  author.  It  is  a  piquant,  witty, 
and,  in  our  judgment,  triumphant  exposure  of  many  intidel  sophis- 
tries, and  a  common-sense  refutation  of  the  more  popular,  and  there- 
fore the  more  mischievous. 

P'or  ourselves,  (.but  this  is  u  mere  matter  of  taste,)  we  could  have 
spared  the  occasional  and  rather  occult  allusions  to  Harrington's 
heart-lacerations  in  his  early  adventures  with  the  other  sex.  Our 
author  might  have  thrown  a  little  more  light  upon  the  death-bed  of 
his  hero. 


Art.  11— port    ROYAL. 


Sderl  Memoirs  of  Port  Royal;  to  which  are  appended,  Tour  to  Aht,  Visit  to  Port 
Jloyal,  Gift  of  an  Abbess,  Biographical  Notes,  ^-c.  By  iNI.  A.  ScHDiiiELPENNiKCK, 
Ilamiltou :  Adams  &  Co.    London.    1835. 

"I  DO  feel  that  strength  of  affection  that  makes  me  wish  the  whole 
world  to  know  what  those  persons  really  were,"  writes  ]^\icolas  Fon- 
taine, of  the  worthies  of  Port  Roj'al.  A  similar  feeling  now  leads 
us  to  speak  of  a  book  which  has  become  so  rare  as  to  be  almost  un- 
attainable at  the  present  time.  It  is,  moreover,  a  work  well  calcu- 
lated to  widen  our  charity,  and  extend  the  boundaries  of  our  Chris- 
tian sympathy ;  for  it  furnishes  another  proof  that  true  religion  may 
"glimmer  through  many  superstitions,"  and  that  the  deepest  piety 
is  everj'where  essentially  the  same. 

The  monastery  of  Port  Royal  was  the  nursery  of  spiritual  devo- 
tion, as  well  as  of  profound  and  elegant  scholarship.  In  the  great 
cloud  of  witnesses  for  the  trutli  in  that  seat  of  hallowed  learning,  we 
recognise  a  genuine  piety  that  is  identical,  ^yhether  it  be  found  in  the 
cloister,  the  chapel,  or  the  cathedral.  In  all  essential  points  the  Port 
lloyalists  were  really  Protestants  in  the  Papal  communion.  They 
obeyed  the  dictates  of  the  Bible  when  they  were  at  variance  with  the 
voice  of  their  priests,  and  became  victims  for  their  faith  rather  than 
Fworve  an  iota  from  what  they  believed  gospel  truth  to  require.  The 
Scriptures  were  unceasingly  studied  by  them,  their  reliance  for  sal- 
vation was  upon  Christ  alone,  and  the  ritual  of  their  Church  was 
esteemed  of  less  account  than  the  testimony  of  a  good  conscience 
before  God.     Their  inward  devotion,  unlike  that  of  other  orilors  in 


192  Port  Royal.  [April, 

their  Church,  was  extensively  practical.  There  was  no  unnatural 
divorce  between  their  religious  and  secular  affairs.  They  relieved 
the  poor,  nursed  the  sick,  and  applied  themselves  to  the  education 
of  the  young.  The  recluses  of  Port  Royal  wore  no  pecuhar  dress, 
were  bound  by  no  religious  vows.  They  studied  and  practised  law, 
medicine,  and  surgery.  Their  writings  fixed  the  Prench  language. 
"They  formed,"  writes  one,  not  himself  a  Ciiristian,  "a  society  of 
learned  men  of  fine  taste  and  sound  philosoj)hy.  Alike  occupied  on 
sacred  and  profane  writings,  they  edified,  while  they  enlightened  the 
world." 

The  volumes  before  us  open  with  a  necrology  of  the  Abbe  dc  St. 
Cyran  and  Cornelius  Janscnius,  two  persons  intimately  connected 
with  the  history  of  Port  Ptoyal.  The  Abbe  de  St.  Cj'ran,  the  de- 
voted friend,  and,  imtil  imprisoned  in  the  Pastile  by  Cardinal  Riche- 
lieu, the  director  of  Port  Royal,  was  descended  from  one  of  the  most 
illustrious  families  of  France.  Its  different  branches  are  minutely 
detailed  by  his  biographer,  but  Ave  pa^^s  over  adventitious  circum- 
stances in  the  contemplation  of  his  elcvntcd  and  most  lovely  charac- 
ter. Following  the  memoirs  of  St.  Cyran,  are  those  of  his  twin- 
brother  in  spirit,  Cornelius  Jansenius,  afterwards  Bishop  of  Ypres. 
These  two  persons  were,  for  a  time,  joint -labourers  in  the  compila- 
tion of  the  system  of  doctrine  denominatt-d  Jansenism;  althou-^h 
Cornelius  Jansenius  always  affirmed  that  the  system,  so  far  from 
originating  with  himself,  was  a  condensed  st;iteraent  of  the  opinions 
of  St.  Augustine  and  other  fathers  of  tlie  Christian  Church.  This 
work,  when  published,  awoke  tlie  bitter  hostility  of  the  Jesuits,  and 
at  length  caused  the  utter  extinction  of  Port  Royal,  an  institution 
which  had  long  stood  amidst  the  .=pirit>jal  darkness  of  France  hke  a 
lone  star  in  the  evening  sky. 

Jansenius  and  St.  Cyran  had  both  studied  in  the  University  of 
Louvain.  At  the  expiration  of  his  course.  Jansenius  returned  to 
Holland,  his  native  country ;  but  sooii  after,  in  consequence  of  losin</ 
his  health,  through  unintcrmitting  study,  lie  was  advised  to  seek  a 
milder  climate,  and  vrent  back  to  Franco  in  li!04.  At  Bayonne  he 
was  cherished  with  liberal  hospitality  in  tlie  princely  mansion  of  his 
friend,  where  they  prosecuted  their  literary  labours  so  dili^entlv  as 
hardly  to  allow  themselves  necessary  fuod  au'i  repose.  The  frequent 
warning  of  St.  Cyran's  mother.  "  I  am  really  afraid,  my  dear  son, 
you  will  kill  your  good  Fleming  with  so  much  study,"  was  alwavs 
spoken  in  vain. 

Jansenius  toiled  twenty  years  over  the  ponderous  volumes  of  St. 
Augustine,  and  died  with  the  plague  on  the  very  day  that  he  com- 
pleted his  onerous  task.     "  A.s  lightning  lie  shone,  and  Mas  extinct. 


1853.]  Port  Royal  193 

3'hc  Church  reaps  the  fruit  of  his  labours  on  earth,  whilst  he  enjoj's 
their  full  reward  in  heaven,"  says  his  beautiful  epitaph. 

It  is  delightful  to  linger  over  the  memoirs  of  two  such  heavenly 
spirits  as  St.  Cyran  and  his  friend  ;  men  truly 

"  Spotless  in  life,  and  eloquent  as  -wise." 

Both  of  them  appeared  to  walk  through  the  world  with  the  voice  of 
God  speaking  to  their  souls,  and  the  songs  of  his  angels  sounding 
in  their  ears.  In  their  perpetual  communion  with  the  Father  of 
lights,  they  remind  us  of  what  we  have  heard  of  the  pilgrim  of  the 
desert,  who,  thi-ough  the  tension  caused  by  its  heat  and  dryness, 
often  listens  with  trembling  wonder  to  the  familiar  melodies  of  his 
far-off  home. 

Of  Jansenism,  the  system  so  abhorred  and  denounced  by  the 
Jesuits,  and  defended  to  the  death  by  the  Port  lloyalists,  we  will 
merely  give  Mrs.  Schimmclpenninck's  unscholarly  deSnition,  leaving 
it  to  the  casuist  and  the  scholar  to  decide  upon  its  con-ectness. 

"Jansenism,"  she  says,  "  is  in  doctrine  the  Calvinism,  and  in  practice  the 
Methodism  of  the  Catholic  Church.  Both  the  Gouevese  reformer  and  the 
Bishop  of  Yprcs  deriA'cd  their  sentiments  from  the  same  source.  Both  a'^cribed 
their  systems  to  St.  Aui^ustine,  though  both  received  it  under  difterent  mo<^llfi- 
calions.  Again,  both  the  discii)Ies  of  Jansenius  and  the  most  strict  ordei-s  of 
modern  dissenters  used  to  be  distinguished  for  their  complete  renunciation  of 
the  world  under  the  three  gi-and  branches  as  described  by  St.  John — the  lust 
of  the  flejh,  the  lust  of  the  world,  and  the  pride  of  life.  Both  have  been  re- 
n^irkable  for  being  in  prayer,  in  vratehings,  and  in  fastings  oft." — Vol.  i,  p.  7. 

The  monastery  of  Port  Royal  was  founded  in  1204  by  Matilde  de 
Garlande,  the  wife  of  a  younger  son  of  the  house  of  ^Montmorenci. 
It  stood  six  leagues  from  Paris,  in  a  wooded  valley,  watered  by  a 
river,  which  was  the  outlet  of  a  pellucid  lake,  lying  in  its  bosom. 
The  surrounding  landscape  was  rich  in  the  varied  beauty  of  forests, 
mountains,  hills,  and  pastoral  fields.  For  a  time  the  institution 
fulfilled  the  pious  designs  of  its  owner,  and  became  an  instrument 
of  good  to  the  surrounding  country.  But,  "  like  the  generality  of 
religious  houses  of  the  same  order,  it  exliibited  towards  the  close  of 
the  sixteenth  century  a  lamentable  degree  of  relaxation.  Self-in- 
dulgence had  banished  all  regularity,  and  a  worldly  spirit  influenced 
the  whole  community." 

The  Abbess  died  at  this  juncture,  and,  according  to  the  abuse  of 
the  times  when  mere  children  were  appointed  to  ecclesiastical  offices, 
in  order  to  insm-e  the  revenues  to  their  family,  Marie  Angclique.  a 
daughter  of  the  distinguished  house  of  Arnauld.  became  Abbess  ot\ 
Port  K^'yal,  at  the  age  often  years.  Little  could  it  have  been  sup- 
posed that  the  child  thus  inirjuitously  elected  was  to  lay  the  fouuda- 


194  Poit  Royal  [April, 

tion  of  the  future  purity  nnd  usefulness  of  tlie  monastery.  The 
nuns,  ah-eacly  nearly  freed  from  constraint,  rejoiced  in  the  expecta- 
tion of  still  greater  freedom  under  their  child  ahhess.  She  at  first 
seemed  entirely  intent  U}»on  thf  L'nitificatiun  of  her  own  tastes,  which, 
however,  were  far  from  bein;;  of  a  frivolous  nature.  It  was  remarked 
that  even  her  recreations  e.\lii!»itcd  marks  of  a  vigorous  and  powerful 
mind.  Her  favourite  readino;  at  that  time  was  Plutarch's  Lives,  a 
book,  by  the  way,  which  had  great  inliucncL'  in  forming  the  charac- 
ter of  her  noted  country-Avnman,  Madame  Holand.  M.  Angelique's 
fii'st  religious  convictions  won*  a\vak<'ned  by  the  preaching  of  a 
travelling  Capuchin  friar.  V.y  some,  this  man  is  said  to  have  been 
an  irreligious  person,  unmindful  td'  his  ecclesiastical  obligations,  who 
preached  pointedly  and  spiritually  at  I'urt  lloyal  because  ignorant 
of  the  true  character  of  the  iuuih.  Ihit  another  version  of  the  story 
is,  that  the  Capuchin  was  a  truly  ccnvcrtod  man,  who,  from  havinfT 
become  disgusted  with  the  errors  of  hi.s  Church,  endeavoured  to 
emancipate  himself  from  i'.s  shackles,  atid  therefore  incurred  its 
obloquy.  Be  this  as  it  may,  from  tin'  hour  M.  Angclique  listened 
to  his  discourse,  she  resolve<l  uj>on  a  thorough  reform  in  herself  and 
the  monastery.  An  illness  of  sevmil  months'  duration  deepened 
her  religious  views,  and  the  study  of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  with 
prayer  and  meditation,  enligliten«»<l  and  confirmed  them.  Immedi- 
ately upon  her  recovery  she  c.'!!i!;!'  no^d  the  execution  of  her  deter- 
mination in  the  monnstery.  Sh'-  !..■  t  v,  ith  violent  opposition  from 
the  nuns,  as  well  as  from  olhrr  s  'uri-'> ;  hut  she  never  wavered,  and 
her  gentleness  and  prudence  wore  not  inferior  to  her  resolution.  In 
a  few  years  from  that  time  the  wh'th-  character  of  the  monastery  had 
changed.  In  place  of  its  furim  r  laxity  ajid  worldliness,  "the  whole 
community  presented  a  pattern  of  i-iety.  chanty,  self-denial,  regu- 
larity, and  eveiy  good  work."  '^  '-t  all  this  was  not  accomplished 
without  the  most  painful  sacriiic^  of  f(.i.-liiig  on  the  part  of  the  young 
Abbess.  At  one  time  she  was  very  near  alienating  her  wdiole  fomily 
from  her  by  her  fidelity  to  what  «ho  considered'  her  duty.  But, 
eventually,  she  had  the  hapjiin.'<s  of  string  them  shining  with  piety 
akin  to  her  own,  and  coadjutor"*  witli  her  in  every  good  work. 
■  And  now  the  fame  of  l\>rt-  lloyal  ;»j-.rrad  over  France.  She,  who 
had  raised  it  to  its  present  .-Icvation.  \v:i.s  Solicited  to  visit  and  reform 
other  religious  houses.  An  ord.-r  to  that  cfTect  reached  her  from 
the  General  of  Citeaux.  With  this  .^hc  of  course,  complied.  Among 
other  institutions,  she  vi^i:.-d  ih.-  iii-na^t.-rv  of  Maubisson.  It^ 
haughty  Abbess  was  sisfT  of  the  beautiful  Gabridlo  d'Etrees,  mis- 
tress of  Ifenry  IV.  ^^h."  found  her  own  delonnined  spirit  met  by 
one  equally  indomitable.     After  many  ludicrous  and  excitin«^  scenes 


]853.]  P(yrt  Royal.  195 

had  occurred  in  the  endeavour  to  force  Madame  d'Etrees  to  give  up 
her  right  of  possession,  the  holy  father  became  convinced  that 
carnal  weapons  alone  -vvould  avail  in  his  struggle  with  the  persevering 
and  imperious  lady.  He  sent  a  company  of  archers  to  expel  her 
from  the  monastery.  The  nuns,  who  at  first  were  devoted  to  the 
interests  of  Madame  d'Etrees,  and  greatly  ])rcjudiced  against 
M.  Angelique  were  soon  won  over  by  her  heavenly  sweetness,  and 
the  institution  was  radically  reformed. 

The  celebrity  of  Port  Royal  continued  to  increase.  The  building 
which  had  been  originally  intended  for  twelve  nuns,  now  numbered 
eighty.  Perhaps  in  her  care  fortlie  spiritual  wantsofherfamily,  Ange- 
lique may,  in  some  measure,  have  overlooked  their  ph3"sical  necessi- 
ties". Disease  originated  from  the  crowded  state  of  the  house,  and  the 
"want  of  drainage  to  the  lake.  !Many  of  the  nuns  died,  and  it  became 
evident  that  another  habitation  must  be  provided.  This  was  fur- 
nished by  the  munificence  of  Madame  Arnauld,  the  mother  of  the 
Abbess.  She  purchased  a  spacious  house  with  princely  gardens, 
and  presented  it  to  the  monastery.  Henceforth  the  two  houses, 
known  by  the  appellations  of  Port  Ptoyal  do  Paris  and  Port  Royal 
des  Champs,  formed  one  abbey. 

•  In  1G25  the  removal  of  the  nuns  to  their  new  habitation  took 
place.  In  the  same  year  M.  Angelique,  less  anxious  for  self- 
aggrandizement  than  for  the  prosperity  of  the  monastery,  obtained 
a  royal  grant  that  the  abbess  should,  in  future,  be  elected  trienni- 
ally  by  the  nuns,  instead  of  being  chosen  for  life  by  the  king. 

M.  Angelique  Arnauld  Avas  the  worthy  scion  of  a  noble  stock. 
Greatness  aud  goodness  seemed  to  be  almost  heir-looms  in  her 
family.  JNIadame  Arnauld  was  herself  the  daughter  of  the  cele- 
bi-ated  Advocate- General,  M.  Marion.  Six  daughters,  distinguished 
for  their  superior  mental  endowments,  as  well  as  their  great  piety, 
took  the  veil  at  Port  Royal.  The  qualities  of  the  Christian,  the 
scholar,  and  the  gentleman,  were  finely  blended  in  the  character  of 
the  eldest  son,  M.  Arnauld  d'Andilly.  The  second  son,  M.  Henry 
Arnauld,  Bishop  of  Angers,  was  esteemed  one  of  the  most  pious 
prelates  in  France.  It  was  said  of  him  that  an  infallible  claim  to 
his  good  offices  was  to  use  him  ill.'  A  fnend,  who  feared  that  his 
health  Avould  be  injured  by  incessant  attention  to  the  duties  of  his 
diocese,  besought  him  to  rest  one  day  in  the  week.  "  I  have  no  ob- 
jeQtion,"  he  replied,  "provided  you  find  one  day  in  which  I  am  not 
bishop." 

While  at  Maubisson,  M.  Angelique  became  acquainted  with  Fran- 
cis de  Sales,  and  introduced  him  to  her  funily.  How  potent  is  the 
influence  of  one  heavenly  3i)irit !     Through  his  instrumentality  the- 


196  Port  Royal  [April, 

religious  character  of  the  Arnaulds  was  raised  to  a  level  with  their 
intellectual  endowments.  Several  years  after  the  family  made 
another  valuable  acquaintance  in  the  Abbe  St.  Cyran. 

"The  effects  -R-liich  these  excellent  men  produced  on  the  Arnauld  family 
were  exactly  those  which  might  _  be  expected  from  the  diiference  of  their 
characters.  From  their  intimacy  with  St.  Francis,  they  had  rather  received 
deep  religious  impressions  than  acquired  clear  religious  views.  ]Many  years 
had  elapsed  since  his  death,  and,  at  the  time  of  their  acquaintance,  the  younger 
part  of  this  numerous  family  were  quite  children,  llence  they  had  been 
i-ather  distinguished  for  warm  devotional  feelings,  a  respect  for  piety,  and  a 
horror  of  inmiorality,  than  lor  a  distinct  light  tiiat  enabled  them  at  once  to 
enter  upon  a  religious  coui-se  of  life,  and  steadily  to  pursue  it.  Their  intimacy 
•with  M.  de  St.  CjTan  exactly  supplied  that  which  had  been  wanting,  lie  be- 
came the  means  not  only  of  awakening,  but  also  of  enlightening  their  con- 
sciences. He  clearly  pointed  out  to  them  the  grand  essentials  of  Christian 
doctrine.     From  thence  emanated  a  clear  light  which  distinctly  showed  the 

{)ath  of  Cln-istian  practice.  The  pious  impressions  of  this  excellent  family  had 
ived  unqueuched  amidst  the  evil  contagion  of  the  world.  "What  might  be  ex- 
pected wlien  placed  under  the  immediate  inllnence  of  two  such  powerful  char- 
acters as  ]\I.  Angc'iiquc  and  the  Alibe  de  St.  Cyran  ?" — Vol.  i,  pp.  145-6. 

We  have  dwelt  thus  lavi^cly  upon  the  character  of  the  Arnauld 
family,  because  it  is  so  closely  interwoven  with  the  history  of  Port 
Royal. 

In  the  year  1G3S  a  number  of  young  men,  alike  distinguished  for 
birth  and  talents,  resolved  to  give  themselves  up  exclusively  to  a 
life  of  stud}',  of  charity,  and  devotion.  Though  retired  from  the 
great  world,  they  had  yet  no  idea  of  dwelling  in  cloistered  privacy. 
Their  object  was  to  benefit  others  as  well  as  themselves,  and  from 
their  retirement  emanated  a  light  to  which  "hterary  Europe  will 
owe  perpetual  obligations."  This  community  numbered  the  illus- 
trious names  of  the  Arnaulds,  Saci,  Pascal,  and  Tillemont.  Le 
Maitre  resigned  the  honour  ol"  being  Conseiller  d'Etat,  which  his 
uncommon  merit  had  obtained  him  at  twenty-eight  years  of  age,  to 
unite  himself  with  them.  The  recluses  took  possession  of  the  house 
at  Port  Royal  des  Champs,  which  the  nuns  had  vacated.  They 
found  it  a  picture  of  wild  desolation.  The  gardens  were  choked 
with  weeds,  the  avenues  closed  with  underwood,  and  the  lake  become 
a  noxious  marsh.  Rut  the  hand  of  industry  soon  restored  the  place 
to  its  former  neat  and  flourishing  condition,  "  and  the  walls  of  Port 
Royal  arose  from  the  ground  amidst  hymns  of  prayer  and  shouts 
of  praise."  Here  were  established  schools,  whose  influence  extended 
over  France.  The  Port  Roj'al  Greek  and  Latin  Grammars,. the 
Greek  Primitives,  the  Elements  of  Logic  and  Geometry,  soon  be- 
came known  throughout  Europe.  "  Us  sent  marques  aii  coin  de 
Port  Royal,''  became  the  fashionable  phrase  of  literary  commenda- 
tion.    It  was  this  learned  community  Vhich,  says  Gibbon,  "c6n- 


1853.]  P&rt  Royal  19'. 

tributed  so  mucb  to  establish  in  France  a  taste  for  just  reasoning, 
simplicity  of  style,  and  philosophical  method."  Here  Racine  was 
educated;  and  here,  when  a  boy  at  school,  conceived  some  of  his 
noblest  tragedies.  So  dear  did  the  valley  become  to  him,  that  he 
desired  to  be  buried  in  its  cemetery,  at  the  feet  of  lii.s  master  Hamon. 
Here  the  great  Pascal  set  do^yn  those  thoughts  that  the  exasperated 
'Jesuits  pronounced  "  les  menteurs  inwioi-tcllcs."  The  jealousy  of 
the  Jesuits  was  powerfully  excited.  Their  writers  had  hitherto 
enjoyed  great  celebrity.  But  they  were  now  surpassed  in  every 
respect  by  the  Port  Ptoyalists,  who  united  to  classic  elegance  of 
style  and  great  learning  a  glowing  piety  that  warmed  the  hearts  of 
their  readers.  The  total  extinction  of  the  comumnity  was  resolved 
upon  by  the  Jesuits. 

After  the  nuns  of  Port  Royal  had  resided  ten  years  in  their  new 
habitation,  their  numbers  had  so  greatly  increased,  that  anotlier 
became  necessar}'.  They  therefore  reclaimed  their  former  abode, 
which  the  recluses  hastened  to  put  in  proper  order  for  them.  On 
the  morning  that  the  nuns  arrived,  with  M.  Angelique  at  their  head, 
they  left  the  monastery  for  their  new  abode.  A  stone  farm-house, 
which  stood  on  the  brow  of  a  hill,  and  commanded  a  view  of  the 
valley  and  the  adjacent  country,  had  been  converted  into  a  residence 
for  them.  From  .this  time  the  nuns  and  recluses  formed  one  com- 
munity, although  dwelling  apart,  and  never  meeting  even  at  church, 
without  a  grate  between  them.  A  spirit  of  R'rvcnt  piety  pervaded 
both  establishments,  "and,"  says  their  biographer,  "nothing  ever  ap- 
proached to  the  complete  and  entire  disinterestedness  that  charac- 
terized Port  Royal."  iNI.  Angulique  im))artcd  her  own  tone  of  feel- 
ing to  the  monastery.  The  nuns  learned  from  licr  to  practise  strict 
self-denial  and  frugality,  while  "  the  revenues  of  the  convent  Avere 
devoted  to  acts  of  generosity  such  as  tiie  most  enlarged  mind  alone 
could  have  devised." 

'•  The  admirable  Abbess  truly  bad  lier  aflVvtiDris  ^.n  r.n  tbinj.'s  above.  Her 
peace  was  therefore  never  disturbed  by  touipral  nii>tiprtuii(jy,  nor  her  desires 
e.Kcited  by  merely  temporal  poods.  She  miglit  be  vniiuoiuly  said  to  be  whoUv 
void  of  that  eovetousness  -which  is  idolatry.  II>i  suul  ijiiiior  fixed  oa  God,  the 
fluctuations  of  all  created  good  never  .^luyjlc  the  tnuudalion  ofhcr  peace.  The 
spirit  of  piety  and  disinterestedness  protluccd  that  j)erl\-ct  tranquillity  of  mind 
■which  M.  Angelique  always  maaifcsted  under  all  the  aci:idents  which  befell  the 
affairs  of  Port  Royal." — Vol.  i,  p.  ICG. 

From  the  numerous  anecdotes  related  to  illustrate  these  qualities 
of  her  character,  we  transcribe  the  following: — 

"One  day  Le  Petit  Port  Royal,  a  farm  b.loiv/incr  to  the  monastery,  took  fire. 
Resides  the  buildings,  barns,  stables,  hay-raiks,  wool-stacks,  wine-presses,  all 
the  stores  were  completely  consumed,  all  the  cattle  were  destroyed,  with  five 


198  Port  Royal  [April, 

horses,  and  all  the  linen.  ...  31.  Arnaulcl  was  desired  to  inform  his  sister 
of  this  cireinnstauee  with  discrotion,  lest  the  heavy  loss  might  too  deeply  aillict 
her.  She  hoard  him  with  the  utmost  tranquillity,  aud  answered  :  '  God  be 
praised  that  this  is  all !  Come,  brother,  let  us  go  and  offer  fervent  thanks  tc 
Grod  that  no  lives  are  lost  I'  " 

"  On  another  occasion,  when  the  Hocks  were  ravaged  by  the  wolf,  she  said, 
'  I  was  going  to  send  to  the  fair  to  buy  more  sheep,  but  God,  no^  doubt,  finds 
we  have  too  many,  since  he  sent  this  wolf  to  destroy  them.  "We  must  not, 
however,  retuse  ourselves  some  pleasure,  to  counterbalance  the  accident.  Let 
all  the  wounded  sheep  be  killed,  and  distributed  among  the  peasants,  that  there 
may  not  be  to-morrow  one  poor  peasant's  house  in  all  the  villages  round  Port 
Royal  where  the  spit  docs  not  turn." — Vol.  i,  j).  107. 

"  When  the  house  was  in  great  distress  from  the  largeness  of  her  benefac- 
tions, 31.  Angelique  has  bcen'known  to  part  with  all  the  church  plate  of  both 
houses,  even  to  the  very  silver  lamps  and  candlesticks ;  nay,  slie  has  even 
taken  the  veiy  napkins  o'lV  the  altar  to  make  clothes,  or  bind  up  the  wounds 
of  the  poor.  She  was  one  of  a  grand  and  comprehensive  mind,  who  knew 
when  to  sacrifice  the  appendages  of  religious  profession  to  the  immutable  prin- 
ciples of  religion  itself.'' — Vol.  i,  j).  171. 

M.  Angelique  had  abundant  means  to  gratify  the  ^\-ishes  of  her 
noble  heart.  Her  family,  who  were  such  mimificent  patrons  of  Port 
Royal,  were  content  to  have  her  use  their  bounty  according  to  her 
own  desire.  From  other  sources  also  a  prodigious  influx  of  wealth 
now  poured  into  the  monastery.  All  of  it,  however,  continued  to 
be  used  for  the  good  of  others.  ^ 

The  Abbess  was  engaged  in  building  when  the  War  of  the  Princes 
commenced.  She  would  not  cease,  although  the  expense  became 
enormous,  because  it  afforded  employment  to  the  poor.  A  gentle- 
man passing  through  the  valley,  afterwards  remarked  to  a  servant 
whom  he  accidentally  met:  '■  Tiiese  buildings,  I  understand,  have 
cost  double  the  sum  they  ought."  "  Sir,"  answered  the  man,  "  the 
price  did  not  seem  great  to  the  nuns,  since  every  stone  was  accom- 
panied by  the  benediction  of  the  whole  country." 

The  recluses  were  not  inferior  to  the  nuns  in  their  spirit  of  piety 
and  generosity.  .  Their  charitable  exertions  made  them  a  blessing  to 
the  neighbourhood,  and  it  may  be  said  of  the  community  generally, 
as  well  as  of  the  Arnauld  family  alone,  that  they  presented  "a  sub- 
lime union  of  learning  with  religion." 

In  1G43  the  war  of  the  Fronde  commenced.  It  levelled  many 
religious  houses  to  the  ground,  and  the  nuns  of  Port  Royal  feared  a 
similar  result  for  their  OAvn.  They  took  refuge  in  their  house  at 
Paris.  The  recluses  assumed  the  military  garb,  and  prepared  to 
defend  Port  Royal  des  Champs,  without  consulting  the  venerable 
M.  de  Saci.  When  a  proper  opportunity  occurred,  this  excellent 
man  gently,  but  faithfully,  reproved  their  want  of  faith,  and  persuaded 
them  to  lay  aside  weapons  which  he  considered  quite  unbefitting  the 
soldiers  of  the  cross.     His  words  diffused  a  feelin<T;  of  increased  con- 


1853.]  Port  Royal  199 

fidence  in  God  in  the  breasts  of  the  recluses ;  and  the  nuns,  at  his 
suggestion,  returned,  to  be  ministering  angels  to  the  suffering  poor. 
Crowds  sought  the  shelter  of  the  monaster}',  and  it  supplied  hundreds 
with  food.  To  its  bitterest  enemies  it  e.xtcnded  the  same  treatment 
that  it  gave  its  most  zealous  friends. 

A  letter  Avhich  M.  Angelique  at  this  time  -wrote  to  one  of  her 
friends  is  probably  well  known ;  but  it  affords  so  striking  a  picture 
of  the  state  of  the  monastery  that  we  cannot  forbear  extracting  it : — 

"  TTe  are  all  occupied  in  contriving  soups  and  jiottage  for  the  poor.  This 
is,  indeed,  an  awful  time.  Our  gentlemen,  as  they  were  taking  their  rounds 
yesterday,  found  two  persons  starved  to  death,  and  nu't  witli  a  young  woman 
who  was  on  the  very  point  of  killing  hor  child  because,  .<he  had  no  food  for  it. 
All  is  pillaged  around ;  corn-fields  are  trampled  over  by  the  cavalry  in  the 
presence  of  their  starving  owners ;  despair  has  se-izfil  all  whose  confidence  is 
not  in  God;  no  one  will  any  longer  plough  or  dig;  there  are  no  horses  indeed 
left  for  the  former,  nor  if  there  were,  is  any  person  cert^iin  of  reaping  what  he 
sows  ;  all  is  stolen. 

"  Perhaps  I  shall  not  be  able  to  send  you  a  letter  to-moiTow,  for  all  our  horses 
and  asses  are  dead  with  hunger.  O  !  how  little  do  jtrinces  know  the  detailed 
horrors  of  war  !  All  the  provender  of  tiie  beasts  ue  v.cre  obliged  to  divide 
between  ourselves  and  the  starving  poor.  "We  concealed' as  many  of  the 
peasants  and  the  cattle  as  we  could  in  our  monastery,  to  save  them  from  being 
murdered  and  losing  all  their  substance.  Our  dormitory  and  our  chapter-house 
■were  full  of  horses.  We  were  almost  stifled  by  being  jicnt  up  with  these  beasts, 
but  we  could  not  refist  the  piercing  lamentations  cf  the  starving  and  heart- 
broken poor.  In  the  cellar  were  concealed  forty  cows.  Our  court-yards  and 
out-houses  are  stufted  full  of  fowls,  turkeys,  geese,  ducks,  and  asses.  The 
church  is  piled  up  to  the  coiling  with  corn,  oats,  pca^,  and  beans,  and  with 
caldrons,  kettles,  and  other  things  beluiiging  to  the  CMtiagcrs.  Every  time  we 
enter  the  chapel,  we  are  obliged  to  scramble  over  sacks  <.\'i  flour,  and  all  sorts 
of  rubbish.  The  floor  of  the  choir  is  entirely  cuvcnd  widi  the  libraries  of  oui- 
gentlemen.  Thirty  or  forty  nuns  from  other  couvmts  luive  liere  fled  for  refuge. 
Our  laundry  is  thronged  with  the  aged,  tlie  maip.u-d,  the  lialt,  the  blind,  and 
infants.  "We  have  torn  up  all  our  rags  and  linen  ehitlies  to  dress  their  sores. 
"We  have  no  more,  and  are  at  our  wits'  end.  'J'lie  cold  is  excessive,  and  all 
our  firewood  is  consumed.  A\'e  dare  not  go  in  the  woods  any  more,  as  they 
are  full  of  marauding  parties.  "We  hear  that  the  Al^bey  of  St.  Cyran  has  been 
Jaurnt  and  pillaged.  Our  own  is  threatened  with  an  attack  eve'ry  day.  The 
cold  weather  alone  preserves  us  from  pestilence.  AVe  arc  so  closely  crowded  that 
deaths  happen  continually.  God  is,  however,  with  us,  and  we  are  at  peace." 
-*-"Vol.  i,  pp.  199,  200. 

This  affliction  passed  to  be  succeeded  by  a  heavier  one.  M.  Ar- 
nauld  issued  a,  work  wlaich  contained  the  sentiment  that  a  priest 
should  never,  upon  any  occasion,  give  absolution  to  a  person  who 
did  not  evince  heartfelt  repentance  for  sin,  by  entire  cessation  from 
it.  This  was  entirely  opposed  to  the  conduct  of  the  Jesuits.  They 
had  guided  the  consciences  of  men  in  power  and  winked  at  evil,  that 
they  might  secure  the  patronage  of  the  great.  The  book  incurred 
their  displeasure,  and  they  htrd  always  been  averse  to  its  author. 
The  Arnaulds  had  lonjc  been  thorns  in  the  sides  of  tlie  Jesuits.     The 


1853.]  Port  Royal.  199 

fidence  in  God  in  the  breasts  of  the  recluses ;  and  the  nuns,  at  his 
suggestion,  returned,  to  be  ministering  angels  to  the  suffering  poor. 
Crowds  sought  the  shelter  of  the  monastery,  and  it  supplied  hundreds 
with  food.  To  its  bitterest  enemies  it  e.xtended  the  same  treatment 
that  it  gave  its  most  zealous  friends. 

A  letter  which  M.  Angelique  at  this  time  wrote  to  one  of  her 
friends  is  probably  well  known ;  but  it  affords  so  striking  a  picture 
of  the  state  of  the  monastery  that  we  cannot  forbear  extracting  it : — 

"  TVe  arc  all  occupied  in  contriving  soups  and  jinttajio  for  the  poor.  This 
is,  indeed,  an  aM'ful  time.  Our  gentlemen,  as  they  -were  taking  their  rounds 
yesterday,  found  two  persons  starved  to  death,  and  nu-t  with  a  young  wouian 
who  was  on  the  very  yioint  of  killing  her  child  hecauso  .-^he  had  no  food  for  it. 
All  is  pillaged  around ;  corn-fields  are  trampleil  over  by  the  cavalry  in  the 
presence  of  their  starving  owners;  despair  has  seized  all  whose  confidence  is 
not  in  God;  no  one  will  any  longer  plough  or  dig;  then?',  are  no  horses  indeed 
left  for  the  former,  nor  if  there  were,  is  any  person  cert^iin  of  reaping  what  he 
sows  ;  all  is  stolen. 

"  Perhaps  I  shall  not  be  able  tt)  send  you  a  letter  to-morrow,  for  all  our  horses 
and  asses  are  dead  with  hunger.  O  !  how  little  do  ])rinee3  know  the  detailed 
horrors  of  war !  All  the  provender  of  the  beasts  wt;  v.ere  obliged  to  divide 
between  ourselves  and  the  starving  poor.  M'e  cuncealed' a^  many  of  the 
peasants  and  the  cattle  as  we  could  in  our  monastery,  to  save  them  from  being 
murdered  and  losing  all  their  substance.  Our  dormitory  and  our  chapter-house 
■were  full  of  horses.  We  were  almost  stifled  by  being  pent  up  with  these  beasts, 
but  we  coidd  not  resist  the  piercing  lamentations  <>f  ilie  starving  and  heart- 
broken poor.  In  the  cellar  were  concealed  forty  cows.  Our  court-yards  and 
out-houses  are  started  full  of  fowls,  turkeys,  geese,  dueks,  and  asses.  The 
church  is  piled  up  to  the  coiling  with  corn,  oats,  i)ea~',  and  beans,  and  Avith 
caldrons,  kettles,  and  other  things  belonging  to  llie  cuti.ig.nN.  Every  time  we 
enter  the  chapel,  we  are  obliged  to  scramble  over  sacks  df  flour,  and  all  sorts 
of  rubbish.  The  floor  of  the  choir  is  entirely  covered  with  the  libraries  of  oui- 
gentlemen.  Thirty  or  forty  nuns  from  other  convents  luive  here  fled  for  refuge. 
Our  laundry  is  thronged  Avith  the  aged,  the  maimed,  the  lialt,  the  blind,  and 
infants.  "We  have  torn  up  all  our  rags  and  linen  elutlies  to  dress  their  sores. 
We  have  no  more,  and  are  at  our  wits'  end.  'J'lie  I'old  is  excessive,  and  all 
our  firewood  is  consmned.  AVe  dare  not  go  in  the  woods  any  more,  as  they 
are  full  of  marauding  jiarties.  We  hear  that  tlie  Alibey  of  St.  Cyian  has  been 
Journt  and  pillaged.  Our  own  is  threatened  witli  an  attack  every  day.  The 
cold  weather  alone  preserves  us  from  pestilence.  AVc  arc  so  closely  crowded  that 
deaths  happen  continually.  God  is,  however,  with  us,  and  Ave  are  at  peace." 
-*-VoLi,  pjj.  199,  200. 

This  affliction  passed  to  be  succeeded  by  a  heavier  one.  M.  Ar- 
nauld  issued  a  work  which  contained  the  sentiment  that  a  priest 
should  never,  upon  any  occasion,  give  absolution  to  a  person  Avho 
did  not  evince  heartfelt  repentance  for  sin,  by  entire  cessation  from 
it.  This  was  entirely  opposed  to  the  conduct  of  the  Jesuits.  They 
had  guided  the  consciences  of  men  in  power  and  winked  at  evil,  that 
they  might  secure  the  patronage  of  the  great.  The  book  incurred 
their  displeasure,  and  they  h:td  ahvaj'S  been  averse  to  its  author. 
The  Arnaulds  had  Ions:  been  thorns  in  the  sides  of  the  Jesuits.     The 


200  Port  Royal  [April, 

maternal  grandfather  of  M.  Angcliquc,  -who  was  the  most  povrerful 
advocate  of  his  day,  had  been  employed  by  the  University  of  Paris 
in  a  suit  against  them.  By  gaining  this,  he  also  gained  the  deadly 
animosity  of  the  defeated.  iS'ow  they  branded  the  work  of  his  de- 
scendant with  heresy.  They  appealed  to  the  Sorbonne,  the  Galilean 
clergy,  and  even  to  Homo  itself  against  the  Port  Royalists.  They 
continued  their  unrelenting  persecution  year  after  year,  and  at  length 
obtained  an  order  from  government  to  abolish  the  Port  Royal  schools, 
and  expel  the  nuns  and  recluses  from  tbeir  retirement.  The  sentence 
was  about  being  put  in  force,  when  it  was  arrested  by  a  singular 
incident  which  remains  a  mystery  to  this  day.  The  report  of  a 
wonderful  cure  wrought  upon  the  niece  of  Pascal  was  the  means,  at 
that  time,  of  warding  off  the  blow  that  threatened  the  ruin  of  Port 
Royal. 

But  the  Jesuits  would  not  be  foiled  entirely.  They  were  deter- 
mined to  compass  the  destruction  of  the  Jansenists,  and  in  IGGO 
procured  a  formulary  entirely  at  variance  with  their  religious  views, 
which  the  clergy,  school-masters,  and  members  of  religious  houses 
throughout  the  kingdom  were  required  to  sign.  Four  bishops, 
and  all  the  Jansenists,  at  once  refused  to  do  this.  Their  refusal 
was  the  commencement  of  immediate  persecution.  For  five-and- 
twenty  years  the  Jesuits  had  harassed  the  Port  Royalists  in  every 
way  within  their  power.  ^Vhat  might  not  be  feared  now  that  they 
were  fully  supported  by  the  authority  of  the  government!  The 
directors  and  confessors  of  Port  Royal  des  Champs  were  banished 
from  their  beloved  valle^',  and  their  schools  broken  up  and  scattered. 
INI.  de  Saci,  ]M.  Arnauld,  M.  de  St.  Marthe,  and  M.  Singlin  fled  for 
the  preservation  of  their  lives.  Both  houses  were  visited  by  a  troop 
of  horse,  headed  by  a  lieutenant  of  the  police. 

Intolligence  of  what  was  passing  came  to  M.  Angelique  as  she 
lay  upon  what  appeared  to  be  her  dying  bed.  'While  her  mind 
remained  as  clear,  and  her  faith  as  firm  as  it  had  ever  been,  her 
health  had  sunk  mider  the  load  of  care  and  anxiety  which  the  enemies 
of  Port  Royal  had  heaped  upon  her.  Yet  ill  as  she  was,  when 
informed  that  violent  measures  had  been  resorted  to  at  Port  Royal 
de  Paris,  and  that  her  presence  was  especially  needed,  she  rose  from 
her  bed  and  prepared  herself  to  be  transported  thither  on  a  litter, 
after  pronouncing  a  benediction  upon  the  nuns,  and  exhorting  them, 
in  the  most  tender  and  'solemn  manner,  to  continue  faithful  to 
their  convictions  of  duty.  In  parting  with  her  beloved  brother, 
M.  Arnauld  d' Andilly,  he  spoke  of  the  perfect  courage  that  possessed 
his  soul.  His  sister  replied:  "My  dear  brother,  let  us  be. humble; 
let  us  remember  that  if  humility  without  constancy  is  vilely  casting 


1853.]  Port  Royal.  '  201 

away  the  shield  of  faith,  courage  without  deep  self-distrust  is  that 
ungodly  presumption  and  pride  that  conieth  before  a  fall"  She 
had  proceeded  a  few  miles  on  her  way  Avlicn  she  was  met  by  an 
ecclesiastic,  who  informed  her  that  all  the  scliolars  were  just  about 
being  expelled  from  Port  Koyal  de  Paris.  "  Well,  sir,"  replied  the 
aged  saint,  "under  every  circumstance  God  be  praised!  I  will 
request  the  favour  of  you  to  go  on  and  inform  my  sisters  whom  I 
have  just  left  of  the  intelligence ;  and  tell  them  not  to  let  their  minds 
be  troubled,  but  to  have  their  hearts  fixed,  trusting  in  the  Lord." 
She  found  the  monastery  guarded  by  soldiers,  and  could  only  irain 
an  entrance  through  files  of  archers.  The  trembling  nims  gathered 
around  their  venerable  mother,  who,  upborne  by  a  heavenly  strength. 
spoke  words  of  courage  and  consolation  to  them.  Yet,  although 
her  exterior  was  calm,  her  heart  was  riven  by  the  separation  from 
those  young  creatures,  whom  she  had  hoped  to  train  for  heaven. 
At  length,  as  she  was  about  bidding  farewell  to  three  young  ladies 
of  high  birth,  whom  she  had  educated  from  their  cradles,  and  made 
them  all  her  heart  desired,  her  courage  appeared  to  fail.  But  she 
knelt  and  pra\'ed  audibly,  and  then,  with  an  unfaltering  step  and 
tranquil  countenance,  conducted  them  to  the  door. 

The  house  was  broken  up,  and,  two  days  after  the  cruel  enterprise 
was  accomplished,  M.  Angelique  writes :  "  At  length  our  good  Lord 
has  seen  fit  to  deprive  us  of  all.  Father,  sisters,  disciples,  children, 
all  are  gone !  Blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord '.  Grief  and  son-ow, 
indeed,  abound :  but  patience,  and  resignation  to  His  holy  will,  abound 
yet  more."  To  one  of  the  nuns  she  says :  "  Do  not  enter  into  a  relation 
of  what  is  noAV  passing,  unless  you  arc  positively  asked.  Listen 
with  kindness,  and  answer  in  as  few  words  as  pos.'iible — pride,  vanit}', 
and  self-love  mingle  in  ever}'  thing;  and  since  God  has  united 
us  by  his  Holy  Spirit  of  divine  love,  we  must  serve  him  in  hu- 
mility. The  most  valuable  fruit  of  persecution  is  a  real  humilia- 
tion, and  humility  is  best  preserved  in  silence."  Soon  after  this. 
as  M.  Angelique  Avas  fervently  engaged  in  jjrayer  for  those  children 
of  her  love  from  whom  she  had  been  so  cruelly  separated,  she  sank 
down  in  a  fainting-fit,  and  was  laid  upon  her  bed  never  to  rise  from 
it  more.  During  this  last  illness  her  bodily  anguish  was  dreadful ; 
"yet,  as  she  slowly  descended  into  tiie  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death, 
and,  with  a  footstep  that  never  slid,  passed  through  its  fearful  gulfs 
unhurt,  though  the  adversary  of  her  soul  was  allowed  to  thrust  sore 
at  her,  her  faith  was  never  suffered  to  fail."  '-As  the  veil  of  fleah 
decayed,"  the  eminent  loveliness  and  strength,  the  humility  and 
elevation  of  her  character,  became  still  more  striking.  Ifer  spiritual 
directors  were  banished ;  she  stood  without  an^'  Imman  aid,  but  she 

Fourth  Series.  Vol.  Y. — 13 


202  Port  Royal.  [April, 

found  the  Great  High  Priest  sufficient  in  her  aAvful  crisis.  True, 
it  Avas  very  painful  to  her  to  be  deprived  of  the  offices  of  M.  Singlin, 
the  friend  Avho  had  been  her  spiritual  director  for  twenty  years; 
yet  upon  this  subject  with  her  usual  serenity  and  submission,  she  said : 
"  It  is  the  will  of  God,  and  that  is  sullicient.  1  have  always  esteemed 
M.  Singlin's  directions  more  than  any  other  blessing,  and  I  do  so 
still.  But  I  have  never  put  men  in  the  place  of  God.  He  can  have 
nothing  but  what  he  receives  from  God,  and  God  gives  him  nothing 
for  us  but  when  in  the  order  of  his  providence  he  is  appointed  to 
be  with  us.  Let  us  go  straight  to  the  fountain,  which  is  God  himself 
He  never  fails  those  Avho  put  their  trust  in  him." 

M.  Angelique  one  day  observed  a  nun  putting  down  some  of  her 
expressions  upon  paper.  She  commanded  her  to  burn  it,  saying: 
"  It  is  a  pity  not  to  content  ourselves  with  the  word  of  eternal  life 
itself,  which  contains  truth  without  any  mixture  of  error ;  and  when 
I  see  you,  my  sisters,  more  touched  and  affected  by  words  spoken 
by  a  miserable  sinner,  like  myself,  than  by  the  essential  truths  of 
which  the  gospel  is  full,  and  which  have  converted  so  many  souls 
to  God,  and  on  Avhich  we  cannot  meditate  enough,  I  consider  it  as 
a  snare  and  temptation  of  the  adversary  of  your  souls." 

Every  circumstance  combined  to  add  affiiction  to  ]M.  Angelique's 
dying  moments.  Fresh  disquietudes  harassed  the  monastery. 
Masons  and  carpenters  came  to  wall  up  the  doors,  and  the  noise  of 
their  hammers  was  heard  instead  of  "  prayer  in  stillness  and  the 
chanted  rite."  ^Vord  came  that  the  nuns  vrere  to  be  immediately 
dispersed.  Parties  of  archers  were  in  pursuit  of  their  confessors 
to  di-ag  them  to  ih.e  Bastile.  The  dying  chamber  of  the  Abbess 
was  invaded  by  a  band  of  police,  and  by  two  ecclesiastics,  who  came 
upon  an  inquisitorial  visit.  Still,  she  lay  under  the  wings  of  the 
cherubim  with  God's  peace  possessing  her  soul,  calm  and  un- 
disturbed. " How  do  you  feel'.'"  asked  one  of  the  officers.  "Like 
a  person  who  is  dying."  "  Do  you  speak  of  death  thus  calmly  ? 
Does  it  not  amaze  youV"  he  asked.  "Xo,"  replied  M.  Angelique- 
"  I  only  came  into  the  world  to  prepare  for  this  hour." 

The  expiring  saint  then  remained  with  her  hands  clasped  and  her 
eyes  closed.  The  nuns  gathered  around  her  bed  and  wept  in  silent 
anguish.  Nothing  broke  the  solemn  stillness  but  the  clashing  arms 
and  heavy  footsteps  of  the  guard,  and  the  hammers  of  the  workmen — 
immeet  sounds  for  such  an  hour!  Hitherto,  the  humblest  domestic 
in  the  monastery  had,  in  similar  circumstances,  been  strengthened 
and  uplifted  by  the  rites  of  his  Church ;  but  she,  who  was  its  glory 
and  its  pride,  was  passing  away  without  human  support.  She 
needed  it  not,  strong  as  she  was  in  the  Lord  and  in  the  power 


1853.]  Port  Royal  203 

of  his  miglit.  At  length  one  of  the  nuns,  unable  to  command  herself 
longer,  burst  into  an  indignant  remonstrance  at  the  treatment  of  her 
Superior.  She  opened  her  eyes,  and,  fixing  them  on  the  nun,  rejoined : 
"  My  daughter,  say  not  so.  The  intention  of  their  hearts  is  kno^Yn 
to  God  alone,  their  God  and  our  God.  Let  us  rather  join  in  prayer 
to  the  throne  of  mercy  for  them  and  for  us."  But  now  those  around 
united  in  lamentations  at  her  forsaken  condition,  while  she  whispered 
them  :  "  My  daughters,  I  never  placed  any  man  in  the  stead  of  God. 
Blessed,  then,  be  his  goodness!  I  have  not  now  man,  but  God 
to  depend  upon.  His  mercies  never  fail  those  who  bcUeve,  and 
who  place  their  reliance  and  trust  on  his  name."  But  even  yet, 
M.  Angelique's  work  was  not  quite  finished.  She  roused  herself 
from  the  stupor  of  death  to  dictate  a  vindication  of  Port  Royal 
to  the  Queen  Mother.  Almost  every  lino  was  interrupted  by 
fainting-fits  and  convulsions,  yet  it  was  so  eloquently  expressed 
that  the  Court  pronounced  it  the  joint  work  of  Arnauld,  Nicole, 
and  De  Saci. 

On  the  6th  of  August,  1661,  her  spirit  departed  to  her  Saviour, 
and  the  passing  bell  conveyed  the  sad  intelligence  to  M.  de  Saci  and 
M.  Singlin  as  they  lay  concealed  in  the  neighbourhood.  ^I,  Agnes, 
the  excellent  sister  of  Mere  Angclique,  succeeded  her  as  abbess. 
Under  her  jurisdiction  a  new  affliction  befell  the  monastery,  in 
some  respects  even  more  trying  than  any  former  one.  Assailed 
and  persecuted  as  the  nuns  had  been  previous  to  the  death  of  their 
venerable  mother,  they  had  always  conunued  faithful  and  strong 
in  love  to  each  other.  But  soon  after  this  event  an  ungi-atcful  imn, 
who  had  been  received  into  the  convent  from  charitable  motives, 
consented  to  become  a  tool  of  its  enemies,  and  endeavoured  to 
compass  the  ruin  of  her  benefactors.  She  was  a  woman  of  extra- 
ordinary talents,  and  her  professed  zeal  for  Jansenism  prevented 
her  being  suspected  by  the  nuns.  It  would  take  too  much  space 
to  dwell  upon  the  artful  intrigues  of  this  wicked  Avoman.  Her  ob- 
ject was  personal  aggrandizement;  the  end  of  her  duplicity  was  the 
ruin  of  Port  Royal.  She  fomented  the  scruples  of  the  nuns  against 
signing  the  formulary,  she  led  them  on  to  use  expressions  which 
she  reported  to  the  archbishop ;  yet  so  wily  was  she  that  when  it 
"Was  known  that  a  traitor  was  among  them,  she,  for  a  long  time,  was 
almost  the  last  person  suspected  as  such.  Acting  upon  her  sug- 
gestion to  imprison  some  of  the  nuns,  that  the  others  might  be 
terrified  into  obedience,  the  archbishop,  with  a  long  train  of  civil 
autliorities,  appeared  at  the  convent.  In  a  voice  of  thunder  ho  com- 
manded them  to  choose  between  signing  the  formulary  or  excom- 
munication,  between   obedience  and   exile.    From  the   room   of 


204  Port  Royal.  [April, 

M.  Agnes,  the  only  surviving  foundress  of  the  reform,  they  were  singly 
ushered  into  the  presence  of  the  archbishop.  Nearly  all  remained 
firm  in  their  refusal  to  violate  their  consciences,  yet  each  trembled 
lest  she  alone  should  bo  the  person  on  whose  head  all  the  wrath  of 
the  archbishop  was  to  fall.  Ho,  finding  the  greater  part  of  them 
remained  unmoved  by  his  threats,  ordered  them  to  the  chapter- 
house, where  he  appeared  before  them  in  full  pontificals,  and,  -n-ith 
a.  countenance  flaming  Avith  wrath,  pronounced  them  contumacious 
and  rebellious  in  preferring  to  be  guided  by  what  they  termed 
conscience,  rather  tlian  the  judgment  of  their  superiors.  The  aw- 
ful sentence  of  excommunication  next  came,  while,  overcome  with 
grief  and  terror,  the  nuns  wept  in  silence.  The  archbishop  then 
prepared  to  depnrt,  but  again  turned  to  hurl  fresh  anathemas  upon 
them,  and  threaten  them  with  still  severer  punishment.  At  length 
he  left  the  convent,  and  the  three  succeeding  days  were  spent  in 
prayers,  in  tears,  in  dai'k  forebodings  by  the  afflicted  nuns.  On 
the  fourth  day  the  archbishop  reappeared  with  his  armed  train  and 
a  largo  body  of  ecclesiastics.  Jle  summoned  the  nuns  to  a  final 
interview.  Sobbing  and  weeping  violently,  they  rushed  into  the 
room  of  M.  Agnes,  and,  gathering  around  her,  besought  her  blessing. 
She  pointed  them  to  God,  and  then,  laying  her  aged  hands  upon 
their  heads,  said :  "  I  do,  my  dear  children,  with  the  heart  of  a  mother 
who  will  never  see  you  more,  commend  each  and  all  of  you  to  Him 
with  whom  are  all  bencilictions."  M_.  Agnes  had  just  before  taken 
a  final  farewell  of  her  beloved  brother,  M.  d"Andilh',  and  the  relation 
of  this  event  is  full  of  touching  interest.  We  wish  we  might  allow 
ourselves  to  present  some  of  the  noble  scenes  with  which  this  portion 
of  the  narrative  abounds.  The  heart  is  made  better  by  the  exhibition 
of  the  angelic  meekness  and  the  Christlike  patience  of  the  persecuted 
under  the  unchristian  treatment  they  received.  And  now  the  nuns 
who  held  the  chief  posts  in  the  monastery  were  torn  from  their 
beloved  shelter  and  sent  to  other  convents  decidedly  hostile  to  them. 
There  they  were  rigorously  imprisoned,  in  order  to  tenify  them 
into  compliance  witli  the  archbisliop's  demands.  JSuns  were  sent 
from  the  Convent  of  St.  Mary,  to  act  the  part  of  spies  and  jailers 
to  those  who  remained.  Jesuitical  ecclcsia.stics  hovered  around  them 
with  threats  of  eternal  damnation.  A  guard  of  armed  soldiers  sur- 
rounded the  house  and  filled  the  gardens,  so  that  no  place  for  exercise 
was  left  the  nuns.  A  contagious  fever  broke  out.  Several  died, 
and  their  last  hours  were  harassed  by  the  taunts  of  their  persecutors. 
At  length,  out  of  the  hundred  nuns  who  remained,  six  yielded  and 
signed  the  formulary.  These  were,  however,  some  of  the  least 
trusted  of  the  community,  and  two  were  imbecile.     The  archbishop 


1853.]  Po,t  Royal  205 

noTT  proceeded  to  ^yrest  the  bounty  of  the  Arnauld  family  from  the 
monastery.      He   took   possession   of  Port   Iloyal  de  Paris,    and 
determmed  to  send  the  refractory  nuns  back  to  Port  Royal  des 
Champs,  to  unite  them  with  those  ^vho  had  remained.     The  joy  of 
the  nuns  was  extreme  >yhen  they  were  told  of  this  decision.     They 
did  not  know  under  what  circumstances  they  were  to  return  to  the 
scene  of  their  former  happiness.     They  had  passed  ten  months  in 
rigorous  captivity,  solitary  and  uncheered.     I':ach  one  had  been  led 
to  suppose  that  the  others  had  yielded  and  signed  the  formulary. 
Their  journey  was   at  night,   under   every  circumstance  of  dis^ 
comfort  and  indignity.     M.  Angeliquc  St.  Jean,  the  niece  of  the 
Mere  Angelique,  tells  us  of  her  joy,  after  being  hurried  into  a  carriage 
m  the  darkness  of  the  night,  there  to  find  the  venerable  Mere  Agne\ 
whom  she  recognised  by  her  voice.     She  says :  "  I  seemed  then  to 
have  received  from  God  a  hundredfold  for  all  we  had  endured. 
How  could  we  sufficiently  thank  the  Good  Siiepherd,  Avho,  not  satis- 
fied with  pouring  out  his  life  for  us,  had  guided  and  watched  over 
us  during  our  captivity,  and  who  had  now  sought  us  and  reunited 
us  to  each  other."     At  the  convent  where  the  carriage  stopped  upon 
the  way  for  the  three  remaining  nuns,  the  joyful  "tidings  reached 
them  of  the  firmness  and  noble  conduct  of  th'eir  sister-captives  and 
of  the  approval  of  their  five  excellent  bishops.     The  day  was  dawn- 
ing when  they  all  entered  the  carriage  which  was  to  convey  them  to 
Port  Royal  des  Champs.     They  said  their  morning-prayer  together 
;'when,"  says  Angelique  St.  Jean,  '^  I  pulled  out  a  little  Biblc^ound 
m  one  volume,  which  I  always  carry  about  me,  and  handed  it  to  the 
M.  Agnes,  who  opened  it  to  see  what  God  would  give  us."     By  a 
singular  coincidence  the  lesson  opened  upon  was  The  thirty-fourth 
chapter  of  Ezekicl,  every  word  of  which  seemed  applicable  to  their 
circumstances.     Their  carriage,  with  six  others,  now  passed  on  to 
the  brow  of  a  hill,  from  which  the  spires  of  their  "  beloved  Ziou,  so 
deeply  mourned,  so  long  and  earnestly  desired,"  Avere  first  descried. 
But  their  joy  was  damped  by  the  forsaken  apjjcarance  of  the  valley" 
and  when  they  reached  the  convent  they  found  that  they  had  but 
exchanged  one  form  of  captivity  fV>r  another.     The  entrances  were 
guarded  by  creatures  of  the  archbi.shop.  their  aged  servants   met 
them  with  tears,  and  they  were  soon  infoiTucd  that  the  last  carriage  of 
their  train  contained  the  Grand  Vicar  and  another  hostile  ecclesiastic, 
I  heir  first  act  was  to  repair  to  the  church.  "  where,"  savs  Angelique 
St.  Jean,  "  Ave  prostrated  ourselves  with  one  accord  at  the  feet  of 
our  Good  Shepherd,  who  had  thus  reassembled  his  dispersed  sheep. 
lie  only   saw  the  movement  of  each  heart,  and  perhaps  in  that 
glad  moment  they  were  all  alike.     Wc  were  thirty- six  of  us,  who 


206  Poi-t  Royal.  [April, 

havinf;  been  redeemed  from  our  hopeless  captivity,  were  now  returned, 
and  about  to  join  our  company  left  in  the  house  of  Port  Royal  des 
Champs.  Those  who  abode  faithful  at  Port  Royal  de  Paris  were 
expected  to  arrive  on  the  morrow." 

They  now  numbered  ninety-eight  nuns,  and  their  joy  at  their 
reunion  was  so  great  as  almost  to  make  them  forget  the  loss  of 
their  earthly  possessions,  the  domination  of  their  enemies,  and  the 
very  precarious  tenure  by  which  they  held  the  shadow  of  liberty 
they  now  enjoyed.  Soon  after  their  return,  they  chose  sister  An- 
gelique  St.  Jean  their  abbess.  This  noble  woman,  a  niece  of  the 
Mere  Angelique  Arnauld,  was  worthy  of  her  glorious  ancestry.  She 
was  animated  by  the  spirit  of  M.  Angelique  and  M.  Agnes,  while 
she  excelled  them  in  brihiancy  of  talent  and  intellectual  powers. 
She  had  a  perfect  acquaintance  with  Scripture,  and  read  the  Greek 
and  Latin  h  athers  in  their  native  tongues.  She  possessed  a  scien- 
tific acquaintance  with  natural  philosophy,  surgery,  and  medicine, 
besides  excelling  in  all  elegant  female  accomplishments.  She  wrote 
several  volumes,  which  combine  capacious  information  with  the 
deepest  and  most  solid  piety.  She  became  the  abbess  of  Port  Royal 
des  Champs  in  a  time  of  its  greatest  need ;  but,  soon  after  her  elec- 
tion, the  convent  was  presented  with  a  superb  mansion,  with  spa- 
cious parks  and  gardens.  The  dauphin  saw  it  one  day  when 
engaged  in  a  hunting  expedition,  and  remarked  that  he  would  ask 
it  of  the  king;  but  the  intrepid  abbess  anticipated  his  request,  and 
had  the  building  levelled  ^vith  the  gi'ound,  rather  than  have  it  de- 
voted to  an  unworthy  purpose. 

The  nuns  were  disappointed  in  their  hope  of  finding  a  peaceful 
and  united  seclusion  in  their  beloved  and  consecrated  home.  Every 
species  of  indignity  was  heaped  upon  them.  Armed  guards  were 
stationed  at  their  doors,  and  their  accustomed  walks  in  the  garden 
forbidden  them.  They  were  deprived  of  their  ministers,  interdicted 
the  sacraments,  declared  heretics  and  rebels.  They  had  only  the 
consciousness  of  their  integrity  to  sustain  them.  ]Many  of  the  nuns 
sank  under  their  persecutions,  and  died  with  prayers  for  their  ene- 
mies quivering  on  their  lips.  Christian  sepulture  was  denied  them, 
and  their  memory  was  heaped  with  obloquy,  Meanwhile  the  re- 
cluses, who  were  equally  obnoxious  to  the  court  party  and  their 
instigators,  wandered  from  one  hiding-place  to  another.  M.  de 
Singlin  at  length  died  under  his  sufierings,  and  the  venerable  De 
Saci,  with  his  friend  Fontaine,  were  sent  to  the  Bastile.  To  this 
imprisonment  we  are  indebted  for  De  Saci's  translation  and  com- 
ment on  the  Bible,  which  is  esteemed  the  best  extant  in  the  French 
language.     After  several  years  of  unmitigated  persecution,  a  brief 


1853.]  Port  Royal.  207 

of  reconciliation  was  procured  from  Clement  TX.  by  some  powerful 
friends  at  court,  and  a  brief  rest  was  allowed  to  Port  Royal ; 
but  in  1679  its  warm  friend  and  protectress,  Madame  Lon^^ueville, 
died,  and  the  Jesuits  were  encouraged  to  renew  their  hostilities. 
They  obtained  an  order  from  the  government  for  the  immediate  and 
final  expulsion  of  the  recluses.  Most  of  them  afterward  died  in 
poverty  and  exile.  M.  de  Saci  retired  to  the  estate  of  a  friend, 
where  he  passed  his  time  in  writing  and  in  spiritual  duties.  He 
still  speaks  from  the  tomb  in  his  translation  of  the  Bible  and  his 
letters.  In  these  volumes  his  pupil,  Fontaine,  gives  us  a  sketch  of 
his  life,  repletejvith  beauty.  In  speaking  of  the  departure  of  his 
friend,  Fontaine  writes :  "  As  Jesus  was  parted  from  his  disciples 
on  the  Mount  of  Olives,  blessing  them,  so  did  this  his  servant  quit 
his  spiritual  children  on  earth  in  the  act  of  praying  a  benediction 
from  the  same  Jesus."  De  Saci  desired  to  be  buried  at  Fort  lloyal 
des  Champs ;  but  the  Jesuits  begrudged  the  monastery  that  poor 
consolation.  An  order  was  issued  to  detain  the  body  at  Paris.  His 
loving  disciples  determined  that  their  master's  last  request  should 
be  fulfilled.  Under  inconceivable  hardships,  upon  an  intensely- cold 
night  in  January,  through  deep  snows  and  driving  wind,  the  body 
of  the  venerable  saint  was  hurried  onward  to  its  resting-place  amid 
the  scenes  so.  dear  to  him  in  life.  Tears  were  shed  over  that  placid 
face  by  all  save  .one.  His  cousin,  Angc-liquo  St.  .Jean,  could  not 
Aveep  that  he  had  entered  into  the  joy  of  his  Lord,  and  in  twenty 
days  she  shared  his  joy.  The  very  life  of  Port  Royal  seemed  to 
perish  with  her.  And  now  wave  after  wave  passed  over  the  monas- 
tery. Friend  after  friend  sank  into  the  tomb ;  their  enemies  re- 
viled, and  their  revenues  were  torn  from  them. 

In  1710  their  final  and  entire  destruction  was  resolved  upon  by 
the  court  party,  with  Madame  Maintenon  at  its  head,  and  their 
unforgiving  enemies,  the  Jesuits.  "  Annihilate  it !  annihilate  it  to  its 
very  foundation  ! "  was  their  constant  cry.  They  persuaded  Cardinal 
de  Noailles,  a  weak  and  undecided  prelate,  who  afterward  bewailed 
his  share  in  the  transaction  with  tears  and  groans,  to  issue  a  decree 
for  the  extinction  of  an  institution  whose  piety  reproached  their 
own  superstition  and  irreligion.  The  cardinal's  promoteur  left  his 
service  rather  than  draw  out  this  iniquitous  writing.  But  there  was 
no  difilcultyin  finding  one  of  less  scrupulous  conscience.  On  the 
morning  of  the  •20th  of  October,  M.  Argenson,  counsellor  of  state, 
entered  the  abbey  with  a  train  of  civil  and  ecclesiastical  officers. 
He  immediately  demanded  the  keys,  and  seized  the  title-deeds. 
After  some  other  preliminary  steps,  he  lind  the  nuns  convened,  and 
read  to  them  a  decree,  the  purport  of  which  was,  that  the  king,  for 


208  Port  Royal  [April, 

the  good  of  the  state,  ordered-,  all  the  nuns  of  Port  Royal  des 
Champs  to  be  immediately  separated  and  dispersed  in  difierent  re- 
ligious houses  out  of  the  diuecse  of  Paris.  iS^ot  a  word  was  spoken, 
until  the  Mere  de  St.  Anastatic,  a  nun,  on  whom  the  mantle  of  her 
admirable  predecessors  had  fully  fallen,  said  she  hoped  they  might 
be  sent  two  and  tv>-o,  being  mostly  aged  and  infirm.  She  Avas 
answered,  "  That  caimot  be."  She  then  asked  how  long  a  time 
would  be  allowed  to  prepare  them  for  their  journey,  in  weather  the 
most  inclement  that  had  been  known  for  the  season  in  two  centuries. 
The  reply  was.  That  they  must  set  ofT  immediately.  With  much 
difficulty,  permission  was  granted  them  to  remain  half  a  quarter  of 
an  horn-  longer.  The  nuns,  with  their  veils  drawn  over  their  faces, 
listened  to  their  sentence.  No  tear  was  visible,  no  sob  was  heard. 
They  were  prepared,  in  the  courage  of  faith, 

"Their  altars  to  forego,  their  home  to  quit, 
Fields  they  had  loved,  and  paths  they  daily  trod." 

The  manner  of  executing  the  sentence  was  no  less  barbarous  than 
the  decree  itself.  No  eye  pitied  them,  no  word  of  sympathy  com- 
forted them  when  they  were  thrust  forth  from  the  walls  which 
sheltered  them.  AttAvelve  o'clock  carriage  after  carriage  bore  them 
away,  while  the  poor  of  the  valley  bewailed  their  departure  with 
loud  cries  and  frantic  gestures.  The  aged  servants  were  dismissed 
without  compensation,  and  only  in  the  Hotel  Dieu  could  find  a  place 
in  which  to  die.  The  nuns  were  sent  to  convents  so  inimical  to 
them,  that  they  would  not  open  their  doors  for  their  reception  until 
compelled  to  do  so  by  an  order  fro-ni  the  king.  Yet  their  Christian 
endurance  did,  in  many  instances,  tm'n  the  hearts  of  their  perse- 
cutors, and  the  religion  of  Jesus  was  advanced  in  other  convents 
through  their  means.  The  building  was  completely  sacked,  and 
then,  at  the  instigation  of  that  cold-hearted  Pharisaical  devotee, 
Madame  }*Iaintenon,  an  order  was  issued  on  the  tenth  of  January, 
1710,  for  its  total  demolition.  Kven  vdien  the  buildings  were  levelled, 
the  malice  of  the  enemies  of  Port  lloyal  was  not  fully  satiated. 
They  envied  the  pious  dead  the  pvivilege  of  a  grave  amid  the  scenes 
they  had  loved.  Their  bodies  were  exhumed  under  circumstances 
of  almost  incredible  barbarity.  Hacked,  hewed,  and  mangled,  they 
were  thrown  into  a  common  pit  in  the  church  of  St.  Lambert.  The 
circumstances  attending  this  atrocious  proceeding  are  too  horrible  to  be 
dwelt  upon.  Soon  after  the  exhumation,  the  walls  of  the  church  at  Port 
Koyal,  the  only  one  of  its  buildings  which  had  been  spared,  Avere  de- 
molished by  gunpowder,  and  nothing  remained  of  the  monastery  but  a 
heap  of  stones.    The  light  of  Prance  was  quenched  when  an  institution 


1853.]  Port  Royal.  209 

80  famed  for  its  love  of  the  Holy  Scriptures  was  destroyed.  It  had 
enjoined  their  study  upon  its  disciples,  and  most  of  the  nuns  had 
learned  the  dead  languages,  to  enable  tliem  to  read  the  Bible  in  tho 
original.  They  not  only  read  it,  but  were  advised  to  commit  large 
portions  of  it  to  memory.  When  it  "was  daily  read  to  them  they 
listened  to  it  devoutly  kneeling,  "  in  order,"  says  the  venerable  ab- 
bess -vvho  drew  up  the  constitution,  "  that  they  may  early  be  taught 
to  pray  for  the  Spirit  of  God,  without  which  we  can  never  under- 
stand the  word  of  God." 

Among  the  dispersed  nuns,  one  most  heroic  woman  particularly 
claims  a  notice.  It  is  the  Mere  Anastatic,  who  was  prioress  of  the 
convent  at  the  time  of  its  dispersion.  She  was  chosen  as  her  suc- 
cessor by  the  former  abbess  when  she  lay  upon  her  d3'iug  bed.  It 
was  in  a  season  of  darkness.  The  storm  tliat  prostrated  Port  Royal 
was  brooding  heavily  over  it.  The  sister  Anastatic  entreated  her 
superior  to  spare  her  youth  and  inexperience  the  insupportable  load. 
The  abbess's  only  reply  was,  as  she  laid  her  cold  and  moistened  hands 
upon  the  head  of  the  trembling  nun,  "His  grace  is  sufficient  for 
thee.  Be  thou  faithful  unto  death,  and  lie  will  give  thee  a  crown 
of  life."  After  the  elevation  thus  forced  upon  hor,  she  proved  her- 
self a  worthy  successor  of  the  noble  women  who  had  preceded  her  in 
office.  AYe  shall  certainly  be  excused  for  giving  the  subsequent 
history  of  the  Mere  Anastatic  in  the  words  of  her  biographer  : — 

"The  place  of  her  exile  was  Blois.  For  ?i\  Nt-ars  .-lie  sutTcred  unabated 
persecution.  Debarred  I'rom  any  access  to  hor  lVii'n(l<,  either  personally  or  by 
letter,  she  v/as  closely  immured  in  a  solitary  cell,  excrjit  at  the  hour  of  attend- 
ing di\-ine  service ;  nor  had  she  either  the  indul;ience  ot'fire,  nor  the  requisites 
of  winter  clothing.  By  the  abbess  and  nuns  of  the  CDnvont  in  which  she  was 
placed,  she  was  treated  as  an  obstinate  and  excoinniunicated  heretic,  with 
whom  it  was  dangerous  to  associate ;  and  by  priests,  blsliup?,  and  confessors, 
she  was  almost  daily  persecuted,  threatened,  and  uirnimttd,  to  obtain  a  signa- 
ture which  it  was  against  her  conscience  to  grant.  licr  nnifonn  mildness  aston- 
ished the  one,  as  much  as  her  firmness  did  the  otla-r.  Hut  so  unconscionable 
and  unrelenting  were  her  persecutors,  that  tiicy  tliliowed  Iier  even  on  her  death- 
bed. The  bishops  proposed  perjury  to  her,  as  tlic  only  priec  tor  which  she 
could  obtain  a  participation  in  the  sacraments  of  the  Ciiurch.  '  My  lord,' 
replied  the  dying  prioress,  '  though  I  value  the  pri\  il.-ge  of  partaking  in  the 
blessed  eucliarist,  even  more  than  life  itself,  and  though  it  would  in  "this  tre- 
mendous hour  be  my  greatest  consolation,  yi-t  I  have  not  the  ill-understood 
devotion  to  imagine  it  allowable  to  wound  tiie  Spirit  of  Christ  to  jjardcipate 
in  his  body  1'  Truly,  indeed,  might  this  saint-like  f.rioress  be  said  to  be  a 
partaker  in  the  spirit  of  her  venerable  prcilece.r.-or,  tin;  Alore  Agnes,  who,  on 
a  similar  occasion,  had  exhorted  her  nuns  rather  to  Ibrogo  one  of  the  bene- 
dictions of  God,  than  to  lose  the  favour  of  the  (iod  of  all  benedictions.  The 
last  illnes.s  of  Mere  Anastatic  lasted  six  wieks,  during  which  the  clergy  on  the 
one  side,  and  the  nuns  on  the  other,  never  faiiid  U>  U'set  her  dying  bed.  and 
*o  persecute  and  torment  her  with  every  deviee  that  cuuld  suggest  itself; 
exhausting  every  argument,  threat,  and  iu>idt«.u--  pcrsiia-i.in,  to  induce  hor  to 
sign  the  formulary.     Two  days  before  the  clo^e  'of  her  life,  the  bishop,  who 


210  Part  Royal.  [April, 

was  as  usual  standing  close  beside  her  bed,  exhorted  her  to  reflect,  for  she 
•would  soon  be  in  the  presence  of  Go^l.  '  ^ly  lord,'  replied  the  prioress,  '  God 
is  continually  preseut  ivlth  bis  children ;  it  was  in  his  li<iht  only  I  ever  sought 
light ;  it  is  then  because  it  is  His  word,  and  not  merely  because  I  have  weighed 
it  during  a  solitude  of  six  years,  that  1  assure  you  my  decision  is  made.  It  is 
because  it  was  made  in  His  presence  that.it  is  not  now  to  be  unmade.'  'But,' 
continued  the  prelate,  aft:or  an  exhortation  of  about  two  hours,  '  who  will  pre- 
sent you  to  God  ?  It  will  not  be  the  Church  whom  you  refuse  to  obey,  nor 
yet  will  it  be  myself,  who  only  am  the  pastor  of  the  sheep  within  her  fold. 
What  will  you  do  when  yuu  have  to  ap[)ear  before  Go<l,  bearing  the  weight 
of  your  sins  alone  ?'  The  dying  nun  paused,  deeply  affected ;  then  fixing 
upon  hhn  her  mild  but  steady  eye,  answered  :  '  Having  made  peace  through 
the  blood  of  the  cross,  my  Sa\  lour  lias  reconciled  all  things  unto  himself  in 
the  body  of  his  llesh,  through  death,  to  present  us  holy,  and  unblamable,  and 
unreprovablc  in  his  siglit.  if  we  continue  in  the  foitli  grounded  and  settled, 
and  be  not  moAcd  away  fiom  tlic  hope  of  the  gospel.'  Then  rising  in  her 
bed,  with  clasped  hands  and  fl-rvently  uplifted  eyes,  she  exclaimed :  'In  thee, 
O  Loi-d,  have  1  trusted,  and  thou  wilt  not  suffer  the  creature  that  trusts  in 
thee  to  be  confounded.' 

"  The  bishop,  however,  still  went  on,  calling  her  the  scourge  of  the  diocese, 
declai-ing  she  was  sent  there  as  a  judgment  upon  them  for  their  sins,  with 
many  other  opprobrious  expressions.  When  the  prioress,  having  now  not  a 
day  to  live,  fouud  she  really  was  to  be  denied  the  last  sacraments  and  every 
mark  of  Christian  communion,  unless  she  consented  to  lend  her  hand  to  per- 
jurj',  she  besought  them  with  many  tears  ;  but  finding  it  Avas  of  no  avail,  she 
wi{jed  her  tears  away,  and  said.  *  A\'ell,  my  lord,  I  am  content  to  bear  with 
resignation  any  dfpnvatiou  my  God  sees  fit.  1  am  convinced  that  his  divine 
grace  can  supply  even  the  want  of  the  sacraments.'  The  Bishop  of  Bids,  who, 
having  seen  her  deep  distress,  hoped  to  gain  his  point,  now  perceiving  nothing 
was  to  be  obtained,  fell  into  a  violent  fury,  or  rather  into  a  perfect  frenzy, 
and  in  a  voice  of  thundiT  declared  her  body  should  be  thrown  out  as  a  car- 
cass, and  never  burled  In  consfcratod  ground.  '  Jily  lord,  as  it  plenses  you,' 
she  answered.  The  phy^Iiian.  who  liajipened  to  be" by,  now  interjiosed,  and 
addressing  himself  w  iih  some  severity  to  the  bishop,  asked  him  how  he  could 
possibly  refuse  the  sacraments  to  a  dying  person  on  so  ver}-  frivolous  a  pre- 
text, and  how  he  could  hlnisrlf  ]X)ssibly  live  in  peace,  or  die  in  hope,  while 
he  pursued  a  conduct  so  delu  lent  in  equity,  and  so  opposite  to  Christian  char- 
ity and  meekness.  The  bishop  made  no  reply,  but  went  away.  The  prioress, 
now  knowinn;  that  she  had  not  many  hours  to  live,  and  no  priest  belnT  at 
hand  to  receive  her  confession,  assembled  the  whole  community,  con?Isting  of 
the  abbess  and  eighty  nuns,  ail  her  ytersccutors  and  enemies,  and  in  their 
presence  made  a  public  confession  to  Go.J  of  all  her  sins.  This  she  did  with 
such  unfeigned  piety  and  humility,  that  the  nuns,  prejudiced  as  they  were 
against  her,  were  not  only  much  cdlticd,  but  could  not  refrain  from  tears.  Indeed, 
when  they  saw  her  extremity,  and  when  her  serenity  proved  to  them  that  it  was 
not  obstinacy,  but  conscience  that  dictated  her  non-compliance,  they  repented, 
and,  with  lamentations  they  could  no  longer  suppress,  bewailed  her  situation. 

"  Meanwhile  the  piioress,  having  concluded  her  confession,  turned  from 
every  earthly  thought.  She  begged  the  nuns  to  recite  to  her  the  Psalms,  and 
to  read  to  her  the  fourteenth  and  firteenth  chapters  of  St.  John's  Gospel,  and 
the  accounts  of  our  Saviour's  J>as^ion,  during  which  she  either  joined  in  the 
recitiilion,  or  was  oecujiled,  as  ai)i)eared  by  lier  hands  and  eyes,  in  prayer. 
In  this  manner  she  continued  until  twelve  o"clo<:k  at  night,  when  the  liaht  of 
the  candles,  shining  on  her  countenance,  showed  the  awful  majesty  of  settled 
peace,  tranquiUity,  and  joy  ;  and  that  without  sigh,  groan,  or  agony,  her  spirit 
had  departed  to  her  Lord  in  a  deep  serenity  of  peace  and  love,  that  made  us 
tremble."— Vol.  ii,  pp.  54-58. 


1853.]  Poit  Royal  211 

In  an  abandoned  burial-ground,  filled  -ftith  rubbish  and  over- 
grown with  nettles,  was  she,  who  had  passed  from  earth  thus  brightly, 
laid  without  pra^-er,  or  any  "  gentle  ofRces  of  grace." 

Louis  XIV.,  after  signing  the  revocation  of  the  Edict  of  ISJantes, 
imprisoning  Madame  Guion,  banishing  the  excellent  Fenelou,  and 
causing  the  overthrow  of  Port  Royal,  was  called  to  render  up  his 
account  in  1715.  After  his  death,  persons  immured  in  the  state 
prisons  for  their  religious  opinions  were  released,  and  the  five 
nuns  of  Port  Royal  who  yet  survived  were  g;ithered  into  the  Con- 
vent of  the  Benedictines  at  Malnoue.  Late  as  this  mercy  came, 
aged,  paralytic,  and  infirm  as  most  of  them  were,  they  rejoiced  to 
be  permitted  to  spend  the  small  remnant  of  their  many-coloured 
days  together.  They  formed  a  little  Port  Royal,  with  the  venerable 
Madame  de  Couturier  at  their  head,  in  the  bosom  of  the  institution 
which  received  them,  where  they  edified  all  around  them  by  their 
holy  lives,  and  serene  and  peaceful  deaths. 

The  compiler  of  these  volumes  visited  the  valley  of  Port  Royal 
in  the  year  1824.  Through  one  of  the  few  engravings  of  the  mon- 
astery by  Mademoiselle  Hortemel,  which  hail  been  secreted  from 
the  Jesuits  when  they  destroyed  other  plates  of  the  same  descrip- 
tion, she  was  enabled  to  ascertain  the  exact  situation  of  the  abbey 
and  adjoining  buildings,  although  the  ground  on  which  they  stood 
had  been  ploughed  up  and  defaced.  The  valley  had  become  a  green 
expanse,  over  which  a  death-like  silence  brooded.  The  little  stream, 
which  had  formerly  mingled  its  murmurs  with  the  chants  and  prayers 
of  the  religieux,  was  choked  with  aquatic  plant.-?.  Bright  flowers 
were  waving  over  the  remains  of  fiillen  arches  and  fretted  stone- 
work, and,  like  the  remembrance  of  those  who  originally  planted 
them,  emitted  a  sweeter  odour  for  being  crushed  and  trampled  on. 
Near  a  stone  seat,  overshadowed  with  aged  trees,  a  clear  stream 
gushed  from  the  rocks  above,  which  still  bore  the  name  of  Ance- 
lique's  Fountain.  By  a  deeply- shaded  grotto  were  remains  of  stone 
benches,  on  which  it  was  said  the  nuns  sat  of  an  afternoon  and 
sewed.  A  willow  rose  from  a  pile  of  shapeless  ruins,  and  bent 
over  the  spot  in  which  the  superiors  of  the  monastery  were  once 
interred.  It  was  here,  probably,  that  the  great  Arnauld  wished  the 
heart  to  be  inurned  which  he,  in  dying,  bequeathed  to  his  beloved 
Port  Royal.  Some  pilgrim  to  the  hallowed  j.lace  had  scratched  on 
one  of  the  stones  beneath,  "  By  the  waters  of  Babylon  we  sat  down 
and  wept,  when  we  remembered  thee,  U  Zion  I" 

A  part  of  Les  Granges,  the  former  abode  of  the  recluses,  still 
standing  upon  the  brow  of  the  hill,  was  then  inhabited  by  one  who 
had  taste  and  sensibility  enough  to  value  and  preserve  the  precious 


212  Port  Royal.  [April, 

memorials  around  her.  She  pointed  out  the  stone  table  on  which 
Amauld  Trrote,  and  the  closet  in  -which  Ilamon  compounded  his 
medicines  for  the  poor.  What  was  then  a  dismantled  hovel,  had 
been  once  the  study  of  Pascal ;  and  in  the  yard  ^^vas  a  ■well  which 
bore  his  name,  because  he  had  invented  the  machinery  and  super- 
intended its  construction.  From  some  moss- covered  trees,  planted 
by  the  learned  D'Andilly,  they  ate  a  little  of  the  fruit  so  celebrated 
for  its  size  and  flavour,  that,  -when  it  was  sent  a  present  to  Anne  of 
Austria  and  Cardinal  !Mazarin,  they  used  to  call  it  "  Fruit-beni." 

What  troops  of  tlioughts  crowd  the  mind  while  perusing  these 
volumes !  AVhat  consecration  of  soul  was  exhibited  in  that  corrupt 
Church,  when  the  Scriptures  were  made  the  rule  of  faith  and  prac- 
tice! How  is  the  soul  enfranchised  by  their  light!  How  precisely 
the  same  Avas  the  eminent  piety  of  that  distant  age  with  that  of  our 
own  day,  resting  as  they  do  upon  the  same  basis !  The  exhorta- 
tions of  Angelique  St.  Jean  to  the  perfect  and  imperfect  religieux, 
seems  certainly  to  accord  with  the  theology  of  our  own  Chm-ch; 
and  the  deep  devotion  of  the  Port  Royalists,  under  the  encum- 
brances and  disadvantages  of  Roman  Catholic  ceremonies,  may 
surely  shame  our  fainter  and  less  active  faith.  Why  was  Port 
Royal,  which  so  long  stood 

"  A  solitary  spark, 
When  all  around  witli  inidnigbt  gloom  was  dark," 

at  length  blotted  nnd  extinguished  from  the  earth,  and  France  de- 
prived of  her  much-needed  light  ?  Her  glory  might  have  departed 
from  her,  and  she,  like  her  sister  institutions,  have  stood  with  the 
form  of  godliness  yet  destitute  of  its  power — Port  Royal,  but  living 
Port  Royal  no  more;  "her  strength,  her  power,  her  beauty  fled;" 
no  more  guided  by  the  unadulterated  word,  but  a  slave  to  vain  tra- 
ditions. Better,  far  better,  to  lie  as  she  does,  in  splintered  frag- 
ments, a  holy  shrine,  a  blessed  memory,  an  immortal  heritage,  to 
the  believing  soul — 

"  A  place  where  leaf  and  flower 
Of  that  which  dies  not  of  the  sovereign  dead 
Shall  be  made  holy  things — where  every  weed 
Shall  have  its  portion  of  the  inspiring  gift 
From  buried  greatness  brcathei" 


1853.]  Vestiges  of  Civilization.  213 


Art.  ni— vestiges   OF   CIVILIZATION. 

Vestiges  of  Civilization  ;  or,  the  Etiology  of  History,  Religimts,  ^sthctical,  Po- 
litical, and  Philosophical.     New-York:  II.  Baillierc.  1851. 

In  accordance  with  a  promise  given  in  a  former  number  of  this 
Review,*  we  propose  to  return  to  the  examination  of  the  remarkable 
work  named  at  the  head  of  this  article,  and  to  devote  to  the 
estimation  of  its  merits  and  its  defects,  its  loi^ic  and  its  philosophy, 
a  larger  space  and  more  minute  attention  than  were  at  that  time 
compatible  with  the  occasion.  At  the  outset  of  our  remarks  we 
deem  it  proper  to  state,  that  a  fuller  and  more  leisurely  examination 
of  the  book  affords  no  reason  for  materially  modifying  the  commenda- 
tion already  bestowed  upon  its  ability,  except  so  far  as  there  may 
be  an  apparent  deduction  of  praise  in  the  translation  of  the  vague- 
ness of  general  and  rapid  criticism  into  the  precision  and  more 
nicely-graduated  language  of  particular  appreciation.  We  are  not 
disposed  to  be  chary  of  our  admiration  where  the  evidences  of  real 
talent  and  sincerity  of  purpose  are  clear  ami  distinct,  even  if  we  do 
deem  them  to  have  been  unhappih^  exorcised  in  a  wrong  channel. 
The  cause  of  truth  is  not  served  by  depreciating  her  conscious  or 
unconscious  adversaries.  As  far  as  we  ourselves  arc  concerned, 
wc  have  neither  dread  nor  abhorrence  for  speculative  error  merely 
as  such;  we  entertain  an  unwavering  faith  in  the  maxim,  magna 
est  Veritas  et  prcevahhit.  The  eiTors  of  men  of  original  genius 
and  of  native  strength  of  intellect  arc  the  forlorn  hope  of 
mental  progress.  They  achieve  more  for  the  ultimate  advance- 
ment of  humanity,  than  all  the  stereotyped  platitudes  of  those 
who  do  but  repeat,  from  mouth  to  mouth,  and  from  generation  to 
generation,  the  undoubted  and  unchul longed  truisms  of  universal 
acceptation.!      Before  the  safe  road,  which  is  to  lead  our  steps 

^  Januaiy,  1852,  Art.  viii,  p.  142. 

t  It  is  so  much  the  fashion  to  censure  Ari.-^ telle  for  Lis  neglect  of  his  pre- 
cursors— a  fashion  set  by  Bacon — that  it  alTords  us  pleasure  to  exonerate  him 
from  the  charge,  at  the  same  time  that  wc  confinu  our  own  position  bj  citing 
from  his  Metaphysics  the  following  memorable  passage  :— 

"oil  fiovov  di  X^P'-'^  Ix^iv  diKaiov  tovtoi^  uiv  ui"  rjf  KoirucaiTo  rale  ^'J^'^'C^  u?.?.a 
Kal  Tolc  l-zLTToXaiOTspuc  ('i~o6Tivttfiivotg  ■  Kni  )i.'/>  oiroi  ovviiiaXovrd  ri.  Tijv  yap 
Ifjv  ■:rj,vi']aKTicav  tjjiuv.  Metaph.  i.  Min.,  p.  Ol^^',  b.  11.  It  wouM  be  hypercritical 
to  deny  the  authenticity  of  this  book.  The  idea  is  developed  and  prettily  ex- 
pressed by  Alexander  Aphrodisiensis.  Schol.  ad  loc.  p.  51)1 :  j)  ytjp  tuv  Kora- 
^efiXjjfiivuv  du^uv  cl'-zopla  evperiKurtpov^  r]«uf  r-r  lOjpicia^  irapacKcvuaei." 


214  Vestiges  of  Civilization.  [April, 

onward,  is  found,  it  must  be  sought :  if  sought,  it  can  be  discovered 
only  by  numerous  tentatives,  more  or  less  successful ;  and  the  aber- 
rations which  precede  the  final  dctennination  of  the  true  path  are 
no  less  essential  services  to  humanity  than  the  prosecution  of  the 
true  route  which  may  be  at  length  detected.  The  bold  deviators 
from  the  beaten  track  of  habitual  speculation,  are  thus  the  real 
pioneers  of  all  intellectual  advancement :  they  encounter  all  the 
perils  of  the  first  assault,  without  sharing  in  the  glory  of  the  vic- 
tory ;  they  clear  away  the  dense  and  thorny  thickets  of  ancient  and 
firmly-rooted  delusion ;  they  make  the  first  breaches  in  the  strong 
walls  of  established  and  fortified  credulity ;  and,  though  they  may 
themselves  fail  by  their  own  iuiprudence,  they  leave  a  safe  and  com- 
paratively easy  task  to  the  vast  brigades  of  second-rate  intellects 
which  will  follow  whither  they  have  pointed  the  way. 

"We  freely  repeat,  then,  our  former  assertion,  that  in  the  book  be- 
fore us  there  is  much  to  admire,  though  we  have  also  discovered  much 
to  condemn.  ^Ye  see  brilliant  glimpses  of  half-revealed  truths  break- 
ing through  the  mists  of  fancy,  and  lighting  up  the  clouds  of  error. 
"We  are  assured  that  the  author's  eye  seeks  the  polar-star  of  truth,  al- 
though his  footsteps  may  be  betrayed  into  the  tangled  mazes  of  terres- 
trial delusion :  and  we  notice  throughout  a  singular  vigour  of  thought 
and  utterance,  great  powers  of  sustained  reasoning,  and  a  most 
enviable  perspicuity  in  the  manifestation  of  isolated  conceptions. 
Thus  any  censure  which  we  may  deem  it  proper  to  pass  upon  the 
work,  does  not  deny  us  the  privilege  of  admiring  its  erratic  bril- 
liancy ;  and  the  detei-mined  opposition  which  we  avow  to  its  errors 
will  not  make  us  forgetful  of  either  its  claims  upon  our  regard,  or 
its  author's  title  to  our  respect. 

In  the  previous  article,  an  analysis  of  the  author's  theory  was 
given,  and  the  frame-work  of  his  SA'stcm  exhibited.  These  it  may 
be  necessary  to  repeat  hereafter,  in  order  to  exhibit  their  application 
and  development ;  but,  wherever  it  can  be  avoided,  we  shall  abstain 
from  cumbering  our  pages  witli  long  extracts,  or  a  detailed  expo- 
sition of  the  views  of  the  author,  requesting  our  readers,  in  all  cases 
which  require  further  illustration,  to  refer  to  the  book  itself. 
Moreover,  we  are  convinced  that  neither  the  relevancy  nor  the  cfS- 
cacy  of  our  strictures  could  be  intelligibly  appreciated  without  a 
previous  and  adequate  acquaintance,  on  the  part  of  the  few  who 
may  have  the  taste  for  such  inquiries,  with  the  original  treatise 
itself 

Before  proceeding  to  our  main  task,  the  examination  of  the  new 
philosophy,  we  wish  to  premise  a  few  observations  on  the  style  of 
the  work  and  the  tenor  of  its  rcasonincr. 


1852.]  Vestiges  of  Civilization.  215 

The  first  impression  produced  upon  our  mind  by  the  perusal  of 
the  Vestiges  ^vas,  that  it  was  pervaded  by  great  simplicity  of  thought, 
disguised  under  a  quaint  and  foreign  expression.  But  it  was  diffi- 
cult to  reconcile  the  actual  existence  of  this  simplicity  with  the 
necessity  for  close  and  constant  attention  which  every  sentence 
required,  and  with  the  haze  of  bewilderment  which  clouded  the  mind 
after  any  continued  study. of  its  pages.  The  coexistence  of  such 
discordant  phenomena  suggested  a  doubt  as  to  the  real  character  of 
the  reasoning  and  expression ;  and  the  doubt  tempted  us  to  analyze 
its  cause.  ^Ve  were  aware  that  there  might  bo  simplicity  of  thought 
in  what  appeored  to  be  the  most  intricate  confusion  ;  and  that  hope- 
less obscurity  sometimes  clothed  itself  with  the  semblance  of  trans- 
parent perspicuity  and  strict  method.  Thi^  authors  systematic 
procedure,  with  his  regular  distribution  and  constant  repetition  of 
the  triadic  processes  of  derivation,  belong  evidently  in  his  own 
estimation  to  the  former  categor}^ ;  but  we  liave  been  strongly 
tempted  to  assign  it  to  the  latter,  and  to  suppose  that  its  simplicity 
was  rather  apparent  than  real.  "The  endk'ss  cycles  within  cy- 
cles,"* to  use  his  own  phrase,  seem  to  form  a  geometrical  mosaic, 
in  which  the  outlines  of  the  separate  figures  arc  sufficiently  dis- 
tinct, though  their  involutions  and  convolutions,  and  their  inter- 
minable intertexture,  knot  them  up  into  a  labyrinth  such  as  the 
eye  c-annot  follow,  and  the  reason  can  scarcely  disentangle. 
The  system  might,  indeed,  have  been  suggested  cither  by  Ampere 
or  Wronski,  though  its  affinities  to  the  latter  are  the  more  numerous 
and  striking.  The  former  is  clear  and  methodical,  though  fanciful 
and  tedious.  The  other  leads  us  blindly  on  through  a  wilderness 
of  mazes,  which  are  fancied  to  be  permeable,  because  the  paths  are 
carefully  divided  off  on  either  hand  by  the  clipped  Dutch  hedges 
of  mathematical  formulism.  There  is  no  method  so  unmethodical 
as  a  regularity  produced  by  arbitrary  fancies,  no  perspicuity  so 
obscure  as  that  which  springs  from  the  rcpc-tition  of  tlie  same  thing 
under  divergent  aspects,  no  simplicity  so  perplexing  as  that  which 
rests  upon  a  system  whose  symmetry  is  scoured  only  by  chimerical 
analogies  ;  and  yet  we  much  fear  that  such  is  the  character  of  both 
the  simplicity  and  perspicuity  of  the  Vestiges.  The  plan  may  be 
simple  ;  it  is  but  a  triad  of  novenas  continu:illy  recui-ring  :  and  the 
novenas  themselves  are  only  a  quadrature  of  the  primitive  triad  of 
thought:  but  novenas  and  triads  are  so  intertwined,  so  gi-afted  and 
inoculated  on  each  other,  and  varied  by  such  a  bewildering  process 
of  combinations  and  permutations,  that  the  reader  would  gladly 
exchange  a  part  of  this  simple  regularity  for  a  more  satisfactory 
«»  Vestiges,  §  71,  p.  2l'9. 


216  Vestiges  of  Civilization.  [April, 

obscurity.  If  we  could  persuade  the  author  to  try  a  stronger  dose 
of  his  o^yn  physic,  ■we  Avould  invite  him  to  attempt  the  perusal  of 
M.  Ilocne  Wronski's  Messianisme.  In  that  work  he  would  dis- 
cover all  the  characteristics  of  his  own  in  greater  excess  :*  "he  might 
even  find  the  indications  of  his  own  theory,  and  would  certainly 
recognise  a  more  complicated  application  of  his  own  mathematical 
machinery  ;  but  wc  think  he  would  acknowledge  that  even  the  uni- 
formity of  the  separate  members  of  a  vast  system,  when  the  reason 
for  the  uniformity  is  uncertain  or  far-fetched,  leaves  behind  it  a  dense 
cloud  of  unsatisfied  mystery  over  the  whole  subject. 

Our  floating  suspicion  tl)at  the  simplicity  of  the  author's  reason- 
ing is  apparent  rather  than  real,  is  very  materially  strengthened  by 
the  characteristics  of  his  style.  In  this  there  is  the  same  singular 
union  of  perspicuity  of  parts  and  indistinctness  of  combination. 
Throughout  there  is  a  most  licentious  employment  of  trope  and 
metaphor,  which  are  so  luxuriantly  interwoven  with  the  whole  fabric 
of  the  expression,  and  so  intricately  entangled,  that,  however  graphic 
and  perspicuous  the  separate  images  and  illustrations  may  be,  if 
studied  apart,  they  produce  a  dizzy  perplexity  by  their  general 
effect.  The  author  is  sufficiently  precise  in  each  isolated  statement;  _ 
but  the  aggregate  forms  a  chaos  of  discordant  figures,  and  produces 
a  labyrinth  through  which  it  is  almost  impossible  to  travel  with 
any  assurance  of  security  or  comprehension.r  Like  the  brilliant, 
but  garish  combinations  of  the  kaleidoscope,  in  which  symmetry 
of  form  and  an  apparent  unity  of  idea  arc  linked  with  the  utmost 
confusion  of  the  constituent  parts,  and  the  sharp  angularity  and  pre- 
cision of  the  outline  encompass  the  most  puzzling  disorder  of  the 
elements  of  the  pattern,  while  the  little  fragments  of  glass  are  by 
themselves  distinct,  and  of  clear  and  unmistakable  hues,  so  the 
style  of  the  Vestiges,  by  a  peculiar  literary  jugglery,  jumbles  up 
the  perspicuous  atoms  of  its  expression  into  a  whole,  which  attains 
all  the  formal  conditions  of  symmetry  and  regularity,  of  simplicity 
and  precision,  and  yet  results  in  an  intellectual  maze,  producing 

'^  The  similarity  of  the  Vestiges  to  the  Messianisme  is  so  striking,  that  it  is 
strange  it  should  be  only  accidental. 

t  It  is  a  truth  often  recalled  to  the  mind  by  the  perusal  of  the  Testiges,  that. 
"  Ics  figures  mCmes  do  rht'torique  passcut  en  sophismes  lorsqu'elles  nous 
abuscnt."  Leibnitz,  Nouv.  Ep.  sur  TEntendement  Ilumain,  liv.  ii,  c.  ix.  There  is 
au  expression  in  the  Avaut-l'ropos  to  this  work,  vhich,  by  a  slight  transposition 
of  the  epithets,  exactly  describes  the  character  of  the  style  of  the  Vestiges.  '^  ^ 
"CCS  images  "*  claircs  dans  I'assemblage,  mais  confuses  dans  les  parties." 
*  '^  If  iu  the  spirit  of  a  German  list  of  errata,  ive  say  for  claires  read  confuses, 
and  for  confuses  read  claires,  we  have  the  portraiture  of  the  literary  execution 
of  the  V.  ork  under  rcvic\T. 


1853.]  Vestiges  of  Civilization.  217 

bj  excess  of  light,  and  even  by  the  dazzling  brilliancy  of  the  colours. 
a  sense  of  irremediable  confusion. 

iS'eTerthcless,  the  author's  style  has  very  striking  merits.  The  lite- 
rary execution  of  the  ^"ork  we  consider  to  be,  in  many  respects,  exceed- 
ingly brilliant,  and  to  surpass  infinitely  the  philosophical  aptitude 
of  the  style.  The  writer,  notwithstanding  liis  ecccntricitres  and  his 
unwarrantable  employment  of  terms  andmotapliors,  has  unquestion- 
ably a  wonderful  mastery  over  language,  lie  is  strong,  terse,  and 
pointed  in  expression  ;  he  has  wit  of  a  high  order ;  and  his  employ- 
Dient  of  irony  and  sarcasm,  however  illogitiniate  may  be  their  ap- 
plication, is  admirable  in  manner.  His  skill  in  shadovring  distinctly 
forth  the  more  delicate  shades  of  his  meaning,  and  following  the 
intricate  involutions  of  human  thought  by  a  corresjionding  pliability 
of  language,  displays  many  traits  of  great  and  original  genius. 
However  foreign  his  utterance  may  be,  and  v.  iili  whatever  Gallic 
affectations  it  may  be  incrustcd  over,  it  is  as  free  from  all  suspicion  of 
mere  verbiage  as  from  the  sin  of  intentional  obscuritj'.  We  have 
no  hesitation  in  according  to  him  tlie  credit  of  remurkable  literary 
powers,  and  just  as  little  in  acknowledging  the  nuisculine  energy  of 
thought,  and  the  extensive  range  of  niisccllaneous  information  which 
he  has  brought  to  the  support  and  illustration  of  his  thesis.  We 
do  not,  indeed,  trace  in  his  Vestiges  the  indications  of  mature  judg- 
ment, sober  reflection,  or  profound  learning:  we  thhik  that  the 
formation  of  his  conclusions  and  the  conception  of  his  theory  must 
have  been  nearly  as  hasty  as  he  confesses  the  composition  of  his 
work  to  have  been :  and  he  certainly  furnishes  abundant  evidence 
that  his  erudition  consists  rather  of  the  multifirious  gleanings  of  a 
discursive  reader  than  of  the  solid  treasures  of  a  i»atient  scholar. 
Vv  hat  shall  be  said  of  the  constant  and  disgraeefid  bk'misiies  which 
occur  in  his  orthography '?  Part  of  these  may  be  doubtless  referred 
to  typographical  inaccuracies,  for  the  l)Ook  is  very  negligently 
printed  :  but  when  we  meet  with  such  crft-r<'cun-ing  deformities  as 
"Stageryte,"  "residium,"  ='llyssus,"  "Tybur,"  "Theogcny,"  "Hero- 
ogeny,"  "Trisvoagistus,"  "Aidoi,"  ''apochryi)hal,"  "  J']nead,"  "con- 
jugual,"  "  TirtcTus,"  "  Archilocus,"  "  neorojioli."  '•  Epicurians,"  we 
must  acquit  the  printer  and  his  devil  of  these  blunders,  and  charge 
them,  not  upon  the  hasty  composition,  but  tlie  defective  scholarship 
of  the  author.*  But,  despite  these  blotches,  and  even  occasional 
lapses  of  grammar,  the  impression  produced  by  the  work  justifies  us^ 

■^  Attention  was  called  to  these  Wun-JoM  in  iho  Jum-.ary  number,  lS:>-2.  \\\- 
have  considered  tliem  -with  cure.  They  cannot  i.e  attributed  to  ha=to ;  as  th** 
author  is  on'^  "  chorda  qui  semper  oborrat  ca<li'?a  :"'  and  the  mistake''  are  ?uc!i 
that  they  could  not  have  been  occasioned  by  th?  haste  of  a  scholar. 

Fourth  Series,  Vol.  V.— 14 


218  Vestiges  of  Civilization.  [April, 

in  attributing  to  it  very  considerable  merit :  and  when  we  consider 
it  in  its  more  purely  intellectual  characteristics,  Ave  shall  be  dis- 
posed to  rate  still  more  highly  the  author's  vigour  of  mind,  and  even 
of  expression ;  for  it  is  not  an  easy  task  to  embody  in  perspicuous 
language  the  mystical  fantasies  of  the  new  system. 

A  vivid  and  idealizing  mind,  inspired  and  inflamed  by  the  over- 
mastering accession  of  a  vague  but  sublime  conception — impatient 
of  sober  and  cautious  speculation,  and  eager  to  proclaim  its  new  dis- 
covery, without  having  fully  apprehended  its  nature  or  estimated 
its  value — more  anxious  to  construct  a  vast  and  all-embracing  the- 
or}'-  than  solicitous  about  the  soundness,  the  sufficiency,  or  the 
propriety  of  its  materials,  has  hastily  gathered  up  from  far  divergent 
quarters  the  loose  straws,  Avhich,  during  its  wild  wanderings,  might 
have  been  attracted  within  the  intluencc  of  its  magnetic  action,  and 
mingling  these  with  the  half-hncaJed  clay  of  its  own  dreams,  has  built 
up,  with  these  unburnt  bricks  of  Uabel,  its  own  fancies,  hypotheses, 
and  anticipations,  into  a  scheme  believed  to  be  fixed,  and  supposed 
to  be  demonstrated.  Thus  has  been  agglomerated  an  immense  mass 
of  alleged  doctrines,  in  which  the  most  discordant  materials  are 
aggregated  rather  than  united  together,  and  formed  into  the  sem- 
blance of  a  system  by  the  supcrinduction  of  an  external  appearance 
of  method,  rather  than  by  tlie  vital  energy  of  an  harmonious,  re- 
ciprocal, and  intimate  correlation.  The  wild  and  oracular  utterances 
of  the  author  remind  us  of  the  fren/.v  and  obscurity  of  the  Cumcean 
Sibyl :— 

At  Phttbi  nonduni  patitn.s,  immanis  in  antro 

Baccliatur  vates,  niapnum  fi  pectorc  possit 

Excussisse  dcum :  tanto  mads  ille  fatigat 

Os  rabiduni,  fcra  conla  domans,  fingitque  premendo. 
o  3  o  o 

Talibus  ex  adyto  dk-tis  Cuniu;a  Fibylla 

Horrendos  caidt  ainbaj^c.",  antroquc  rcmugit 

Obscuris  vera  involvons. 

We  acknowledge  by  our  quotation  the  existence  of  some  latent 
truth  in  these  Yestiges  of  Civilization,  and  yet  we  can  scarcely 
promise  to  point  out  clearly  the  exact  quantum  and  quale  of  the 
truth  contained  in  them,  so  arduous  will  be  the  task  of  separating 
the  wheat  from  the  chaff.  There  is  peculiar  difliculty  in  criticising, 
and  even  in  grappling  with  the  argument  of  the  book :  but  we  will 
not  abuse  either  it  or  its  author  for  the  tantalizing  provocations 
which  we  are  obliged  to  encounter.  Notwithstanding  the  flagrant 
example  of  denouncing  those  who  will  not  implicitly  adopt  his 
opinions  which  he  has  set  us,*  and  notwithstanding  the  copious 
"  Vestiges,  g  17,  p.  ISG. 


1653.]  Vestiges  of  Ciiilization.  219 

irony  and  sarcasm  AvLicli  he  pours  out  on  dissidents  or  anticipated 
adversaries,  v,-e  will  not  call  his  treatise  stupid,  absurd,  nor  even 
unintelligible,  for  we  do  not  regard  it  as  such,  though  it  often  sorely 
taxes  our  powers  of  attention  and  discrimination  to  discern,  not  so 
much  what  is  the  author's  immediate  meaning,  as  the  thing  meant 
with  reference  to  the  development  of  the  theory.  Much  careful 
segregation  of  implicit  ideas,  luiconsciously  involved  in  his  language, 
though  not  designed  in  his  expression,,  is  at  all  times  requisite 
before  we  can  reach  the  real  pith  of  his  argument.  This  is  certainly 
objectionable,  yet  we  will  not  object  to  what  merely  augments  our 
own  labours ;  for  we  are  willing  to  crack  the  bone  for  the  sake  of  the 
marrow.*  But  it  is  really  a  grave  objection,  if  it  be  true,  as  we 
shrewdly  suspect,  and  as  may  be  confirmed  hy  many  passages  in  the 
work  itself.t  that  this  difficulty  arises  fmni  the  fact,  that  the  writer 
is  not  fully  and  clearly  master  of  his  ovrn  meaning  throughout ; 
that  he  merely  projects  into  language  the  nebulous  forms  of  the  un- 
resolved ideas  floating  in  his  own  mind,  instead  of  only  being  guilty 
of  indistinctly  uttering  viev>-3  clearly  and  precisely  apprehended 
There  was  some  truth,  though  scarcely  half  a  truth,  in  the  doctrine 
of  Descartes,  that  perspicuity  was  of  itself  a  criterion  of  truth  :  and 
surely  by  any  such  test  the  Vestiges  would  be  .'^tripped  of  all  claim 
to  philosophical  discovery.  But  we  arc  willing  to  waive  this  objec- 
tion too.  We  vrill  not  complain^of  the  contortions  and  lubricity  of 
the  hydra  with  which  we  have  undertaken  to  grapple,  ( wc  mean  no 
disrespect  to  the  author,)  but  we  Avill  only  use  a  greater  effort  to 
overcome  the  additional  d'fficulty. 

But  when  avc  divest  the  exposition  of  the  system  of  those  ob- 
scurities of  expression  which  may  be  charitably  supposed  to  arise 
from  the  difficulties  and  novelties  of  the  attempt,  and  enter 
more  deeply  into  the  distinctive  characteristics  of  the  authors 
logical  procedure,  we  may  still  find  abundant  cause  for  cen- 
sure. The  whole  of  his  argument,  or  rather  the  synthesis  of 
his  theory,  is  erected  upon  mere  analogies.  Such  a  line  of 
argumentation  proves,  in  our  opinion,  that  he  has  mistaken  the 
characteristics  of  analogical  reasoning,  and  the  nature  of  the  evi- 
dence which  it  affords.  It  may  seem  hazardous  to  attribute  such  a 
blunder  to  an  author  who  prides  himself  on  his  strict  logical  habits 
of  thought,  and  Avho  is  manifestly  better  versed  in  both  technical 
and  practical  logic  than  is  usual  now-a-days  among  the  compound- 
ers of  books  and  the  manufacturers  of  systems.  Nevertheless,  we 
ventm-e  to  express  our  conviction  tliat  ho  has  entirely  misappre- 

"  Ral>clai.s,  liv.  i,  Trologo. 

t  Vestiges,  §  2',,  p.  99  ;  §  2G,  p.  107,  note :  j  47,  p.  IHo. 


220  Vestiges  of  Civilization.  [April, 

hended  the  functions  of  analogictil  ratiocination.  Analogies,  unless 
they  are  as  strict  and  precise  as  the  data  for  induction,  do  not 
justify  any  positive  conclusions  ;  they  only  aflford  a  provisional  and 
presumptive  defence  against  insufficient  objections.  And  even  that 
they  may  possess  this  authority,  it  is  essential  that  they  be  care- 
fully defined  and  limited,  and  not  pressed  a  single  line  beyond  the 
range  of  exact  con-espondencc  between  the  things  assimilated.  To 
those  who  have  read  the  A'estiges  with  any  care,  we  need  hardly 
say  that  the  procedure  ad'optcd  is  the  very  reverse  of  this.  The 
method  may,  indeed,  be  loosely  termed  inductive,  if  vre  admit,  as  we 
undoubtedly  ought  to  do,  the  justice  of  the  author's  acute  censure 
of  the  Baconian  induction,  that  it  is  only  a  species  of  the  general 
type  ;*  for,  in  tliis  larger  acceptation  of  the  term,  analogy  is  itself 
an  inductive  process,  but  bearing  about  the  same  relation  to  the  strict 
formal  procedure  of  scientific  induction,  that  the  tortuous  and  decep- 
tive sorites  does  to  a  regular  syllogistic  scheme.!  The  only  writer 
who  has,  in  our  opinion,  confined  analogy  to  its  legitimate  use, 
while  making  it  the  basis  of  his  whole  reasoning,  is  Bishop  Butler, 
whose  great  work  is  even  less  remarkable  as  an  apology  for  revealed 
religion,  than  as  a  singularly  stead}^  and  sustained  illustration  of  a 
difficult  and  seductive  logical  j)rocedure.  The  author  of  the  Ves- 
tiges refers  to  Butler  on  one  occasion,  and  then  in  a  tone  of  dis- 
paragement; but  certainl}-  ho  has  fiilcd  to  learn  from  hira  the 
legitimate  r'pplieatiun  of  that  analogical  reasonhig  which  so  pecu- 
liarh",  but  so  diversely  characterizes  the  method  of  both  writers. 

The  multitudinous  analogies  of  nature,  which  link  together  in 
intricate  and  indistinct,  but  admirable  harmonj^  all  the  parts  of 
creation,  and  estabhsh  a  conformit}',  if  not  affinity,  between  the 
various  provinces  of  mind  anvl  matter,  certainly  indicate  a  single 
and  common  reason  as  the  governing  principle  of  creation,  the 
framer  of  its  laws,  and  the  regidatur  of  its  concordant  processes. 
The  maintenance  of  this  position  is  all  that  was  contemplated  in 
Butler's  immortal  work.  But,  though  tho  existence  of  the  common 
original  fountain  is  thus  suggested,  it  cannot  be  established  by 
any  such  argiunent  alone  :  much  less  is  any  valid  assistance  for  de- 
termining the  particular  cause  or  reason  of  the  separate  apparent 
affinities,  or  of  explaining  their  range  or  their  law.  Yet  the  whole 
\alidity  of  the  Vestiges  rests  upon  the  arbitrary  presumption  that 

«  Vestiges,  §  30,  p.  112. 

t  We  cordially  fissont  to  the  litil-.-noticiJ  nnil  scl  Joiu-repeated  criticism  of 
Cicero  on  the  eiiiployinout  of  the  sorites  :  "  Soritas  hoc  vocant ;  qui  acervura  ctE- 
ciunt  urij  uvKlito  ^'rano ;  vitiosum  sane  ct  captio.^uiu  genus."  Ac.  Pr.  ii,  .xvi, 
§  49.     Again,  c.  xxvlii,  §  92:  "lubrioum  siiuc  ct  pcriculosiini  ''  "" 


1853.]  Vestiges  of  Civilization.  221 

they  do  so.  The  chimerical  scheme  of  tlie  rrcestablislied  Harmony 
of  Leibnitz  should  have  warned  the  author  of  attempting  to  erect 
a  system  upon  such  a  hypothetical  basis — and  yet  the  argument  of 
Leibnitz  is  less  unwarrantable  than  his  own.  The  analogies  on 
which  he  depends,  speak  to  the  fancy  rather  than  to  the  judgment : 
they  inspire  poetry,  but  they  supply  a  mo>^t  dreamy  and  insecure 
foundation  for  philosophical  speculation.  They  tempt  susceptible 
and  ductile  minds  to  invade  the  realms  of  science  with  the  con- 
juring rod  of  a  lively  imagination :  they  may  seduce  the  man  of 
science,  if  not  thoroughly  imbued  with  the  scientific  spirit,  from  tlie 
limits  of  his  own  domain,  and  entice  him  into  the  fairy  and  ideal 
wilderness  of  theoretic  construction.  But  tlic  little  we  know  of 
the  substratum  of  such  analogies,  tlie  tntal  absence  of  all  accu- 
rate acquaintance  with  the  connecting  links  which  bind  together 
the  phenomena  which  are  assimilated,  mu^t  render  them  totally  inef- 
ficient as  the  foundation  of  any  sound  pliilosoph}',  however  vitally 
they  may  operate  in  quickening  the  perception  of  the  more  recondite 
laws  of  nature,  or  in  inducing  the  recognition  of  the  constant 
presence  and  unity  of  divine  power.  Tliey  arc  like  the  f\iiry  tales 
which  charm  our  dreamy  childhood,  and  wliich  may  convey  valuable 
instruction  under  the  wildest  garb  of  fancy,  but  rather  as  a  sort  of 
residual  product,  arrived  at  by  unconscious  sublimation,  than  as 
a  legitimate  consequence  of  their  direct  application. 

Into  the  gi-eat  error  of  mistaking  the  nature  of  the  evidence  and 
instruction  afforded  by  the  analogies  of  nature,  the  anonymous  author 
has  fallen,  and  fallen  most  grievously,  because  apparently  un- 
conscious of  the  danger.  He  is,  liowever,  by  no  means  the  only 
philosopher  of  the  day  who  has  been  betrayed  into  this  misconcep- 
tion. Even  in  this  countiy  there  have  been  two  would-be  sages, 
with  whom  he  would  disdain  to  be  compared,  and  to  whom,  indeed, 
he  is  far  superior — Prof  Stullo  and  Edgar  A.  Toe — who  have  often 
pursued  a  strikingly  similar  line  of  argument;  and  numerous  are 
the  examples  which  recent  foreign  literature  aflbrds.  This  defect 
of  our  times  haS  arisen  from  a  feverish  impatience  to  rend  the  veil 
of  Isis,  and  by  a  violent  and  hasty  proor-ss  to  pour  the  sunlight  of 
open  day  over  the  mysteries  of  nature ;  but  the  defect  and  the 
impatience,  we  are  sorry  to  say,  are  bec<niiing  alarmingly  prevalent. 
AVc  own  that  the  anile  mumbling  of  narrow  scientific  inquirers,  who 
are  afraid  to  lookbe3-ond  observed  facts  to  the  principles  tliey  reveal, 
has  aflbrded  sufficient  provocation  for  tliis  adventurous  course;  but, 
notwithstanding  the  temptation,  we  must  regard  every  eflort  of  the 
kind  as,  in  itself,  merely  a  return  to  that  unwarrantable  process  of 
theoretic  construction  which  was  censured  and  illustrated  by  Lord 


222  Vestiges  of  Civilizalion.  [April, 

Bacon's  happy  reference  to  tic  spider's  web.*  The  whole  scheme 
of  the  Vestiges  of  Civilization  is  the  pure  elaboration  of  the  author's 
OMTi  intellect,  conceived  a  priuri  from  the  loose  suggestions  of 
supposed  resemblances  in  nature,  not  established  by  a  patient  com- 
parison of  facts :  the  results  of  recorded  observation  are  employed 
only  as  the  tesscraj  of  an  arbitrary  and  fanciful  mosaic,  not  as  the 
regulating  principles  of  scientific  inquiry.  It  is  true,  he  speaks  of 
"the  inductive  verification  of  his  theory,"!  and  fancies  that  he 
proceeds  by  legitimate  induction.  But,  if  ho  had  done  so — if,  in- 
deed, he  had  clearly  recognised  the  true  functions  of  induction  it- 
self,— he  would  never  have  spoken  of  inductive  verification — would 
never  have  propounded  a  theory  and  resorted  to  induction  for  its 
confirmation,  but  he  would  have  recognised  this  as  the  habitual 
fallacy  of  the  Gi'oek  philosophers  and  the  schoolmen;  and,  even 
if  he  had  been  determined  to  repudiate  the  maxim  of  iS^ewton, 
"  hypotlicses  non  Jingo,"'  he  would  have  knoA^ii  that  his  theory  should 
have  been  established  by  induction  from  carefully  observed  facts, 
and  verified  by  recourse  to  deduction  and  the  observation  of  details. 
He  has,  hoAvever,  just  inverted  the  logical  procedure,  and  recurred 
to  that  erroneous  method  which  the  Xovi'.??i  Organon  of  Bacon  was 
designed  to  overthrow.  It  is  singular  that  a  reformer  of  modern 
science  should  thus,  in  his  haste  for  premature  reconstruction,  revert 
to  that  crude  mode  of  reasoning  v.hich  has  been  justly  regarded  as 
the  weakness  of  Greek  and  the  fully  of  mediievol  science.  But, 
even  in  this  nineteentli  century,  after  reading  the  works  of  Poe, 
Stallo,  Wronski,  the  Vestiges.  vS:e.,  >ve  may  still  say  of  recent  times 
as  Avas  said  of  the  earlier,  "  that  it  hath  proceeded,  that  divers  great 
learned  men  have  been  heretical, ".(in  respect  to  science,  of  course,) 
"whilst  they  have  sought  to  fly  up  to  the  secrets  of  the  Deity  bv 
the  waxen  wings  of  the  senses."  i  The  truth  is,  that  the  very  excess 
to  which  the  Experimental  riiilusophy  has  been  pushed,  by  those 
^yho  never  understood,  or  never  accepted  more  than  the  least  import- 
ant half  of  the  Baconiim  doctrines,  has  produced  a  reaction ;  and  that 
the  Baconian  philosophy  of  the  nineteenth  century,  now  in  the 
agonies  of  deca}-,  is  running  into  all  the  licences  and  vagaries  of 
the  scholastics,  against  uhom  Bacon  struggled  with  triumphant 
success. 

'•'  Du  Augm.  Sci.,  lib.  i,  vol.  viii,  p.  .".:*.  A.Iv.  of  Loai-niug,  vol.  ii,  p.  39.  EJ. 
P..  Montagu.  This  cck-lir.ated  passage  .«eciiis  to  have  boon  suggested  to  Lord 
Bacon  by  Francis  Balduinus,  a  distiTigui.-lud  jurist  with  whose  ■writings  Bacon 
appears  to  have  been  familial',  thougli  lie  never  rneniion.s  thcui.  The  idea  occurs 
in  an  essay  of  BaMuinu.><.     Schol.  Jar.  Civ.     Argent.,  l.'-'u. 

t  Vestiges,  &c.,  ^  r,-2,  p.  190. 

I  Bacon,  Adv.  of  Learning,  h.  i,  vol.  ii,  p.  12. 


1853.]  Vestiges  of  Civilization..  223 

In  bringing  this  accusation  against  the  Vestiges  of  Civilization, 
vre  may  be  supposed  by  the  author  to  have  unconsciously  conceded 
one  of  his  o-^ii  leading  postulates — (for  a  principle  merely  illustrated, 
and  not  proved,  we  must  regard  as  q,  postulate) — that  every  great 
intellectual  advancement  is  achieved  by  an  introversion — it  -would 
have  been  more  correct  to  have  said,  an  introsusception  or  subsump- 
tion — of  former  processes.  We  have  no  apprehensions  of  any  such 
concession.  The-ti*uth  contained  in  the  principle,  so  magnified  by 
tbis  author,  is  one  vrhich  has  a  very  different  bearing  from  what  he 
has  imagined,  and  in  no  respect  justifies  or  sustains  his  theory. 
It  is  rather  the  characteristic  of  each  new  tentative  towards  advance- 
ment, than  of  the  advancement  itself,  that  it  traces  backwards  the 
lines  and  steps  of  former  progi'ession.  It  is  the  concomitant  of  the 
doubting,  unsettled,  wavering  spirit,  Avhich  is  in  tlic  act  of  renouncing 
effete  formulas,  and  which,  being  denied  the  clear  prospect  of  a 
definitely  expanding  future,  is  compelled,  in  its  revolt  from  the  present, 
to  recur  to  the  past,  and  endeavour  to  reconstruct  a  new  scheme  out 
of  the  ciaimbling  ruins  of  former  systems.  It  is  a  resilience  from  old 
error — areactionagainst  decomposition — not  of  itself  a  forward  move- 
ment. True  it  is,  that  with  the  obliquity  ami  one-sidedness  which 
spring  from  human  frailty,  there  is  in  each  successive  period  an 
alternating  movement,  an  anticlinal  inclinatiou.  But  the  principle 
contemplated  by  the  Vestiges  is,  in  its  essence,  the  type  of  a 
transition,  and  not  of  an  advancing  age — the  symbol  of  a  negative, 
and  not  of  a  creative  era;  and  so  far  as  it  does  project  its  own  hues 
more  and  more  faintly  over  succeeding  developments,  it  is  chiefly 
inasmuch  as  all  progress  implies  accretion  to  former  acquisitions 
and  their  absorption,  not  their  negation. 

We  object,  however,  not  merely  to  tin.'  euij>loyment  of  analogical 
reasoning  in  the  manner  in  which  it  is  used  in  these  Vestiges,  but 
w^e  conceive  it  to  be  a  still  stronger  objection  that  these  analogies 
are  for  the  most  part  pure  fancies.  We  make  this  allegation  not 
haA^ing  the  fear  of  the  author's  denunciation  belure  our  eyes,  although 
he  does  say,  "I  trust  the  cant  about  'fanciful  analogies,'  'plausible 
reasoning,' '  ingenious  hypotheses,'  itc-.c^cc,  is  what  no  serious  reader 
of  the  foregoing  pages  will  have  the  face  to  even  mutter — that  is, 
indeed,  if  he  has  behind  it  a  brain  above  a  monkey's."*  Such 
language  may  be  thought  remarkably  rational  by  some,  and  bighly 
indecorous  by  others — it  certainly  imlicates  neither  the  tone  nor 

-  Vestiges,  §  47,  p.  ISC.  Jhis  intemperate  nnd  unbecouiing  deDunciation  of 
all  -who  may  hereafter  differ  from  the  views  of  tlie  Vestiges  is  perfectly  accordant 
with  the  course  of  Ilocne  Wronski.  Mc!=.siani.-nie.  tome  ii,  p.  505.  But  this  is 
the  least  important  point  of  agreement  between  the  two  works. 


224  Vestiges  of  Civilization.  [April, 

the  temper  of  au  impartial  lover  of  truth ;  but,  in  ^vhatever  light  it 
may  be  regarded,  we  are  not  to  be  deterred  by  such  foregone  censure 
from  both  cousidering  his  work  to  be  a  constant  exemplification  of 
all  three,  and  from  deeming  sv^ch  outbursts  a  sign  that  he  is  himself 
sorely  conscious  of  the  weakness  and  invalidity  of  his  mode  of 
reasoning.     "  The  galled  jade  winces." 

We  do  consider  his  analogies  to  be  ernincnthj  fanciful.  A  glaring 
example  of  his  habit  of  drawing  an  induction  from  a  mere  capriccio 
is  found  in  his  explanation  of  the  institution  of  inheritance  by 
reference  to  the  supposed  prevalence  of  a  pagan  belief  in  the 
continued  similarity  of  the  condition  of  the  dead  to  their  mundane 
existence.  "As  to  the  principle  of  inheritance,  it  was  originally 
of  the  nature  of  a  power  of  attorney,  or  rather  an  assignment  in 
trust  to  the  heirs  from  the  absent  owner  of  the  property."  *  It  will 
be  noticed,  in  the  first  instance,  that  this  induction  as  stated  rests 
upon  a  possihilitas,  or  rather  prohabiVitas  roaotissima,  as  a  mere 
matter  of  conjecture;  and  it  may  be  observed,  in  the  second  place, 
that  the  alleged  explanation  is  at  variance  with  the  whole  history 
of  property  and  inheritance.  But  tliis  is  only  an  incidental  and 
•disconnected  illustration  of  the  fanciful  character  of  the  author's 
speculations  and  analogies.  \\c  will  furnish  another  which  inter- 
penetrates the  whole  work,  constitutes  one  of  its  most  essential 
features,  fonns  almost  the  whole  basis  of  the  system,  and  is,  not- 
withstanding, in  great  measure  a  jiure  imagination. 

The  Triads  and  Trinities,  which  play  such  an  important  part  in 
the  theory,  arc  in  themselves  singular,  but  are,  for  the  most  part, 
either  accidental,  or  are  coincidences  depending  so  entirely  upon  an 
unknoAvn  cause — or,  to  employ  langiiage  less  objectionable  to  the 
author,  they  arc  co-relations  so  completely  without  obvious  inter- 
dependence or  discernible  connexion — that,  for  all  purposes  of  argu- 
mentation, they  must  be  treated  as  accidental.  The  number  of  such 
triads  might  have  been  indcfinitt-ly  augmented  by  the  consultation 
of  Cudworth's  Intellectual  System  of  the  Universe,  or  of  a  remark- 
able romance  written  by  a  Scotch  Jacobite  in  France,  the  Chevalier 
Ramsay,  at  a  time  when  a  sort  of  semi-classical  fiction  had  been 
rendered  popular.  "We  are  far  from  being  disposed  to  cite  the  Chevalier 
Ramsay  as  valid  authority  for  anything,  or  from  referring  to  Cudworth 
as  a  great  philosopher ;  but  the  fixcts  collected  by  Ijoth  in  regard  to  this 
matter  of  a  heathen  trinity  of  gods,  and  an  all-jicrvading  tri-imity  in 
creation,  show  how  easy  it  is  to  discover,  invent,  or  multiply  such 
ternary  harmonies,  and  how  artificial  are^the  links  of  resemblance 
by  which  they  arc  arranged.  They  have  been  exhibited  in  all  periods, 
"  Vestiges.  §  134,  p.  33G. 


1853.]  Vestiges  of  Civilization.  225 

and  in  connexion  ■with  the  most  divergent  systems ;  and  are  more 
significantly  developed  in  the  Enncads  of  riotinus,  and  in  the  reve- 
ries of  the  Alexandrian  school,  than. in  the  Ycstip^cs  of  Civilization. 
They  can  neither  prove  nor  establish  the  validity  of  a  philosophic 
scheme :  all  that  they  can  do  is  to  siv^zLre^t  the  delivery  of  a  partial 
and  primitive  revelation,  ^vhich  has  been  transmitted  to  all  succeed- 
ing generations  in  a  travestied  and  mutilated  form  b}'  a  fluctuating 
and  uncertain  tradition.  Yet  even  this  is  ])crhaps  stretching  their 
significance  too  far ;  for  when  gathered  up,  arranged,  and  combined, 
as  in  the  present  work,  they  exhibit  a  purely  arbitrary  division  of 
the  phenomena  of  nature,  as  recognised  by  sense,  or  as  elaborated  by 
intellect,  and  have  no  claims  to  precedence  over  any  other  arbitrary 
distribution,  such  as  the  binary  classification  of  the  objects  of  science, 
proposed  by  Ampere.  If,  like  Plato,  we  attempt  to  build  up  the 
universe  by  a  new  intellectual  evolution,  to  re-compound  creation 
with  numbers,  and  to  make  numerical  analogies,  like  those  devised 
by  the  Pythagoreans,  the  types  and  symbols  of  creation  and  of  vital 
or  mental  development,  although  a  preference  may,  perhaps,  be 
claimed,  on  the  score  of  the  number  of  witnesses,  for  the  Platonic 
triads,  yet  the  Pythagorean  tetractys,  or  the  Hebrew  number  seven,* 
or,  indeed,  any  other  of  the  elementary  numbers,  might  contest  the 
claim,  and  it  would  be  ultimately  decided  by  accident  rather  than 
evidence ;  unless  the  verdict  were  given  in  favour  of  the  ternaries  of 
the  Vestiges,  on  the  principle  of  the  old  rul'^ — •'  numerantur  testes, 
nan  pondcrantur.''' 

To  a  mind  capable  of  preserving  its  equipoise  amid  the  present 
jar  of  conflicting  systems,  which  arise  from  ihe  dead  like  the  dry 
bones  in  the  Valley  of  Jehoshaphat,  and  carry  on  a  bloodless  and 
spectral  warfare  with  each  otlicr,  this  resun-ection  of  Platonic  or 
Pythagorean  doctrines — this  body-snateliing  of  the  old  carcass  of 
forgotten  symbolism  and  mysticism,  which  has  been  attempted  both 
by  the  present  author  and  by  a  still  ninre  profound  and  erratic 
■writer,  HiJeno  Wronski,  is  assuredly  one  of  the  most  singular  mani- 
festations of  the  day. 

If  the  same  caution  had  been  exercised  in  the  Vestiges  in  employ- 
ing these  triads  which  was  shown  even  in  the  fanciful  system  of 
Ampere  in  the  binary  and  quaternai-y  distribution  of  knowled"-e,  we 
should  scarcely  have  made  an  objection.  The  imperfections  and  the 
future  expansibilities  of  science  render  a  natural  classification  of  the 
branches  of  knowledge  a  perpetual  impo.-sibility,  certainly  a  present 
one.  The  classification  must,  therefore,  be  in  a  gi-eat  measure  arbi- 
°  ^r.  Wronski's  Poven  Orders  of  Creatiou  in'lic;ito  a  desire  to  unite  the  Hebrew 
■with  the  Platonic  numeration. 


226  Vestiges  of  Civilization.  [April, 

trary,  and  all  that  art  can  do  is  to  render  it  comprehensive,  simple, 
and  complete;  while  it  is  the  part  of  self-deluding  artifice  to  make  it 
appear  natural  by  the  coercion  of  predetermined  harmony,  and  by 
the  concealment  of  its  arbitrary  character.  As  long  as  this  character 
is  avowed,  it  is  a  mere  matter  of  comparative  expediency  whether 
we  adopt  a  binary,  a  tcniary,  a  quaternary,  or  a  quinary  arrange- 
ment; but  when  we  assume  this  artificial  and  arbitrary  methodism 
as  a  proof  of  a  subsistcnt  natural  distribution  and  uniformity, 
as  is  done  by  the  Vestiges,  and  by  it  pushed  in  to  the  most 
remote  ramifications  of  nature  and  knowledge,  of  fact  and  science, 
as.  if  it  was  the  plastic  force  preordaining  the  evolutions  of  both 
correlatives,  we  then  plunge  into  tlie  bottomless  abysses  of  fancy, 
and  mistake  the  illusion  of  our  own  dreams  for  the  secret  operations 
of  the  creative  power.  Tlie  a])pearance  of  truth,  the  plausibilities 
of  demonstration,  are  assumed  by  this  procedure  because  its  regu- 
larity only  is  noticed,  while  its  arbitrary  complexion  is  overlooked — it 
IS  a  revival  of  the  prci'stablishcd  harmony  of  Leibnitz,  only  the  pre- 
ordaining agency  is  transferred  from  the  will  and  power  of  God  to 
the  mind  and  imagination  of  man.  We  object,  then,  not  to  the  adop- 
tion of  the  ternary  scale,  but  to  the  oblivion  of  its  character — not  to 
the  particular  distribution  of  the  objects  and  modes  of  knowledge, 
but  to  the  supposition  that  this  division  rests  upon  inherent  distinc- 
tions, is  exclusive  of  all  others,  and  reveals  the  latent  processes  of 
creative  or  historical  development.  It  is  in  this  aspect  that  we 
characterize  these  triadic  analogies  as  pure  fancies. 

But  the  other  analogies  of  the  Vestiges  are  not  merely  occasion- 
ally or  accidentally  fanciful ;  they  are,  from  their  general  complexion, 
systematically  and  almost  necessarily  so.  They  are,  in  the  main, 
etymological,  and  consetjuentl}'  tlic  inferences  can  rarel}^  establish 
much  more  than  verbal  resemblances.  The  frenzy  of  derivation  is 
strikingly  exhibited  in  the  Cratylus  of  Tlato.  which  has  consequently 
become  the  laughing-stock  of  the  moderns ;  but  there  are  wilder 
flights  of  fiction  in  the  A^estiges  than  even  Plato  ever  ventured  to 
indulge.  We  are  not  disposed  to  undervalue  the  assistance  which 
may  be  rendered  by  etymology  in  the  way  of  indication  or  sugges- 
tion ;  but  we  are  unwilling  that  it  shouM  be  assumed  as  evidence  of 
real  affinities  until  carefully  and  closely  scrutinized.  But  in  all 
etymological  deductions  there  is  a  great  danger,  into  which  this  writer 
continually  falls,  of  assuming  imaginary  afiinities,  and  of  explaining 
the  origination  of  words  and  their  signiticance  by  the  application  of 
their  latest  derivative  meanings.  He  thus  exactly  reverses  the  legiti- 
jnate  procedure.  The  poetic  instinct,  which  first  inspired  the  use 
of  the  radical  term,  is  the  genetic  cause  of  its  signification,  and  the 


\ 

1853.]  Vestiges  of  Civilization.  227 

Bole  source  of  its  original  usages :  the  gradual  abstractions,  tropes, 
generalizations,  and  limitations  of  progressive  necessity  and  progres- 
sive reason  eliminate  the  greater  portion  of  the  primitive  poetic  sym- 
bolization,  and  just  leave  the  hard,  precise  denotation  of  a  later  day  to 
indicate  growing  precision  of  human  thought  and  the  gradual  advance- 
ment of  human  civilization.  There  is  frequently  no  more  resem- 
blance between  the  earlier  and  later  signification  of  words,  or  between 
the  meaning  of  the  radix  and  its  derivatives,  than  there  is  between 
the  oak  and  the  acorn  from  which  it  grew.  Tims,  if  a  later  sense  be 
applied  to  words  in  their  inceptive  or  intermediate  stages,  the  whole 
service  to  bo  expected  from  the  historical  mutations  of  their  mea,n- 
ings  is  lost,  and  we  are  betrayed  into  the  heinous  error  stigmatized 
by  the  author  himself,*  of  judging  the  earlier  by  the  later  world. 
Thus  the  science  of  a  civilized  community  is  made  the  measure,  the 
test,  and  the  interpreter  of  the  conceptions  of  a  barbarous  epoch. 

An  illustration  of  this  licentious  reference  to  etymology  is  supplied 
by  the  author's  mmecessar}''  attempt  to  justify  the  coinage  of  the 
term  taxonomy,  (taxinomy,)  by  dwelling  upon  the  signification  of 
the  terms  vofxoc,  Aoyo^-,  and  ypa^oj.f  The  only  remark,  in  connexion 
with  this  topic,  which  is  not  fanciful,  is  that  "  all  three  terminations 
are  becoming  more  regular  according  as  we  advance  along  the  scale 
of  science,  and  must  end  with  being  completely  systematized."! 
This  observation  should  have  unsealed  his  eyes  to  the  recognition 
of  all  that  was  truly  impcirted  by  his  supposed  etymological  analogies. 
They  are  the  result  of  a  later  and  con.^cious  eilort  of  systematization, 
not  the  spontaneous  product  of  original  instincts,  or  the  exhibition 
of  primary  relations.  The  application  of  voiiog  to  law,  of  Aoyof  to 
theory,  principle,  or  anything  like  it,  and  of  '>(io'i'/  to  description, 
was  a  late  and  derivative  procedure  in  the  employment  of  these 
terms.  For  proof  of  this  we  content  ourselves  with  referring  to 
that  useful  but  neglected  book— the  Lexicon.  But  we  cannot  be 
content  to  abandon  this  topic  without  informing  the  author  that  the 
introduction  of  the  designation  of  astronomy  belonged  to  a  period 
when  that  science  formed  a  subordinate  branch  of  music,  and  vouog 
was  more  properly  apphed  to  the  harmony  of  musical  notes  than  to 
the  regularity  of  law;  thus  upsetting  all  the  supposed  distinctions 
on  which  his  criticism  is  founded. 

Another  form  of  this  frenzy  of  etymological  ingenuity  draws  its 

=  Vestiges,  Introd.,  §  2,  p.  12.  f  Vosti-e-i,  §  ;}3,  p.  12C. 

J  Ibid.  We  do  not  distiuctly  recollect  whctLcr  the  author  ever  refers  to 
Ampere's  Classification  of  the  Sciences;  vrc  are  under  the  impression  ho  docs; 
and  we  think,  perhiips,  he  lu.iy  have  been  misled  into  this  play  upon  -words  hy 
the  whimsical  caprices  of  that  able  but  fanciful  work. 


228  Vestiges  of  Civilization.  [April, 

inferences  by  mistaking  the  trivial  and  casual  resemblances  of  words 
for  natural  and  logical  affiliations,  and  is  revealed  in  his  ostensible 
deduction  of  architecture,  as  one  of  the  fine  arts,  from  the  discovery 
of  the  arch.*  Iso-w  tlie  art  Avas  known,  practised,  named,  and  com- 
mented on,  long  before  the  arch  was  thought  of,  and  in  an  entirely 
different  region.  There  is  no  actual  etymological  connexion 
between  the  two  words.  Arch  is  derived  from  the  Latin  arcus, 
a  bow.  Ai'chi-tecture  is  from  the  Greek,  and  signifies  the  art  of 
the  master-builder;  being  from  «().\:?/,  which  denotes,  especially  in 
composition,  the  chief  or  superior. 

For  further  proof  of  the  employment  of  merely  etymological 
analogies,  and  of  etymologies  arbitrary  and  imaginary,  and  con- 
jectured ingeniously  from  fancied  similitudes,  ratlicr  than  suggested 
by  sober  comparison,  we  may  allege  the  supposed  satisfactory  ex- 
planation of  the  determining  reason — the  instinctive  principle — for 
the  classification  of  the  genders. t  The  author  remarks  that  this  is 
"a  division  of  class  or  kind,"  not  of  sex;  and  that  the  sexual  dis- 
tinction of  nouns,  if  we  may  use  the  phrase,  is  a  subsequent  innova- 
tion. He  has  been  apparently  led  to  this  inference  from  regarding 
the  idea  of  genus  as  anterior  to  that  of  gender.  Unfortunately  for 
tliis  novel  theory,  any  supposed  basis  on  which  it  might  rest  is 
removed  by  historical  as  well  as  etymological  considerations.  The 
very  idea  of  genus,  as  of  kinJ,  is  a  deduction  from  the  idea  of  genera- 
tion, as  is  illustrated  by  the  line  of  Shakspeare : — 

"A  little  less  than  kiu,  an  J  more  than  kiud." 

This  is  conclusively  proved  by  the  history  of  the  word  genus,  and 
of  all  equivalent  or  correlative  terms.  The  deduction  and  explana- 
tion of  genus  and  species  by  Porphyry  and  the  scholiasts  on  the 
Organon  of  Aristotle  will  exliibit  this  in  the  clearest  manner.  Is 
the  author  cogniizant  of  the  pM?riod  when  the  term  genus  was  first 
employed?  So  far  as  avc  can  discover,  it  is  first  used  in  its  logical 
sense  by  Plato ;  but  in  the  sense  of  a  famil}^  or  race  its  usage  was 
much  earlier.  And,  assuredly,  the  idea  of  gender,  as  a  distinction 
of  sex,  was  long  anterior  to  this,  and  was  so  manifested  in  laiif^uage. 
Indeed,  the  notion  of  gender  exists  amongst  uncultivated  barbarians, 
that  of  genus  only  amongst  highly-civilized  and  metaphysical  races. 
Hence  the  recognition  of  a  genetic  distinction  must  necessarily  have 
preceded  the  supposition  of  a  generic  dllTerencc,  and  the  author  of 
the  Vestiges  has  mistaken  a  fancied  etymological  deduction  for  a 
predetermining  cause.  But  this  violates  his  own  historical  develop- 
ment, and  especially  liis  evolution  of  the  intellectual  world,  according 
^  Vestiges,  §  ^2,  p.  274.  t  Vestiges,  §  GO,  pp.  208-9. 


1S53.]  Vestiges  of  Civilization.  225 

to  the  progi-ession  of  the  increasini^  complication  of  ideas.  The 
only  shadow  of  a  foundation  for  his  inference  is  afforded  by  the  fact, 
that  the  same  word  in  Greek  signifies  both  genus  and  gender; 
though  the  introduction  of  these  meanings  took  place  at  dates  widely 
separated  from  each  other.  He  disregards  the  chronology  of  facts 
and  ideas,  and  transfers  the  metaphysics  of  the  Socratic  school  to 
the  incunabula  of  the  Greek  language,  and  this  in  confirmation  of  a 
scheme  which  is  proposed  as  the  chronological  explication  of  the 
development  of  human  civilization. 

Ecfore  abandoning  this  topic  we  deem  it  but  just  to  add  that  there 
is  a  germ  of  latent  truth  in  this  novel  view,  and  to  explain  the  exact 
amount  of  that  truth.  "We  think  that  it  accounts  satisflxctorily  for 
some  of  the  anomalies  of  grammar,  and  for  the  irregular  manner  in 
which  the  genders  of  nouns  have  been  assigned  to  them ;  it  may 
indicate  how  it  has  happened  that,  without  any  apparent  rule  of 
procedure,  they  have  been  classed  under  one  gemler  or  the  other; 
how,  after  the  genders  had  been  formed,  with  regard  to  the  distinction 
of  sex,  this  principle  was  apparently  disregarded  in  the  determina- 
tion of  the  genders  of  later  words;  and  how  this  anomaly  may  have 
extended  itself  throughout  the  various  ramifications  of  successive 
languages.  This  we  may  esteem  a  most  important  indication  to- 
wards the  establishment  of  a  valid  philosophy  of  grammar;  but  we 
regard  this  as  the  sum  total  of  the  truth  contained  in  the  new  doctrine. 
And  observe  that,  except  for  the  purpose  of  maintaining  the  systematic 
uniformity  of  the  author's  theory,  the  i>r)nciplo  thus  limited  explains 
all  the  anomalies  of  gender,  and  expends  its  whole  availability  just 
as  fully  as  if  we  should  give  full  credence  to  the  dicta  of  the  Vestiges 
on  the  subject. 

We  are  not  yet  quite  done  with  these  etymological  fancies :  they 
form  so  prominent  a  feature  in  the  book,  while  the  charge  of  fanciful 
conjecture  is  so  widely  disavowed  b}^  the  author,  that  we  are  desirous 
of  pointing  out  instances  where  his  ingenuity  in  the  invention  of 
verbal  analogies  betrays  itself.  As  the  primitive  rocks,  which  form 
the  basis  of  the  earth's  crust,  frequently  crop  out  and  reveal  at  the 
surface  the  nature  of  the  substratum  on  Avhich  the  more  familiar 
ingredients  of  our  globe  are  superimposed,  and  as  this  usually 
happens  in  the  more  rugged  and  intractable  countries,  so  when  the 
author  of  the  Vestiges  finds  himself  on  peculiarly  rocky  ground, 
and  is  unable  otherwise  to  lead  his  cohort  of  analogies  through  a 
precipitous  defile,  he  exhibits  in  its  bare  and  naked  form  the  etymo- 
logical legerdemain,  the  feverish  fren-/:y  of  verbal  similitudes,  which 
constitute  the  presiding  spirit  of  his  work.  What  can  bo  a  more 
striking  indication  of  the  weakness  and  invalidity  of  his  proccduro 


230  Vestiges  of  Civilization.  [April, 

than  his  illustration  of  the  contrast  between  the  Theological  and 
Heroic  Epics,  as  he  terms  them,  by  the  o])position  of  the  epithets 
clerical  and  lay,*  because  the  latter  name  was  given  to  some  medineval 
romaunts  ?  The  la/j-ynanj  was  opposed  to  the  clericus,  or  clerk,  as 
one  belonging  to  the  people,  one  of  the  multitude,  in  contradistinc- 
tion to  the  man  of  religion,  who  was  sepavaled  from  the  mass,  and 
raised  to  a  higher  class  by  his  sacred  functions  and  the  imposition 
of  hands.  The  laij  of  the  poets  was  so  termed  from  the  German 
"Lied,"  a  song,  and  the  lui  of  the  French,  of  probably  the  same 
origin;  for,  so  far  as  wc  caii  discover,  it  is  not  strictly  Provencal. 
There  is  scarcely  any  possibility  that  these  dissimilar  terms,  -whose 
resemblance  appears  only  fortuitous,  could  have  come  from  the  same 
source;  but  if  they  did,  they  descended  by  very  divergent  routes, 
and  retained  no  connexion  with  each  other.j 

Our  allegations,  then,  against  the  character  of  the  reasoning  by 
which  the  theory  of  the  Vestiges  of  Civilization  is  supported,  are 
that  the  argument  proceeds  by  analogy,  and  that  employed  in  an 
illegitimate  manner;  that  the  analogies  are  strained  and  fanciful, 
and  are  necessarily  so,  as  being  principally  sustained  by  etym.ology ; 
and  that  these  etymologies  are  themselves  both  imaginary  and  in- 
correct. This  is  certainly  an  ingenious  reduplication  of  errors. 
If  these  objections  be  just,  as  we  believe  them  to  be,  there  is  ample 
cause  to  render  us  suspicious  of  any  theory  which  looks  to  such 
demonstration  for  its  establi.-hment,  and  we  might  leave  the  further 
characterization  of  the  argument,  and  the  system  itself  without 
further  comment,  convinced  that  a  scheme  so  crudely  conglomerated 
must  be  destitute  of  any  intrinsic  solidity.  But  there  are  other,  and 
even  greater,  defects  in  the  work,  and  we  cannot  consent  to  bid  adieu 
even  to  those  already  indicatctl  until  we  have  explained  how  it  could 
happen  that  an  author,  possessing,  in  many  respects,  such  logical 
acumen,  could  have  been  betraj'od  into  such  an  erroneous  and  invalid 
line  of  argumentation.  We  shall  not  merely  do  this,  but  hope  also 
to  show  how,  with  his  objects  and  postulates,  he  was  necessarily 
beguiled  into  it.  When  we  shall  have  furnished  both  the  exposition 
of  the  error  and  the  explication  of  its  necessity,  we  might,  perhaps, 
rightfully  claim  that  the  author  should  cease  to  follow  after  strange 
gods  and  to  build  up  new  Babels,  and  should  devote  his  unques- 
tionably high  talents  to  the  more  tedious  but  more  certain  prosecu- 
tion of  truth  by  legitimate  routes,  forsaking  his  brilliant,  compendious 

«  Vestiges,  §  74,  p.  23-3. 

t  From  the  Greek  ?.a6c,  ?.aLKur,  belonging  to  the  pooiile. 

I  Another  example  of  like  etymological  confiisioa  0':curs  §  129,  p.  32S,  in  re- 
gard to  the  word  holy. 


1853.]  Vestiges  of  Civilization,  231 

processes.  This,  however,  would  be  expecting  too  much  from  any 
enthusiastic  designer  of  new  systems,  and  especially  of  such  a  com- 
plete comprehensive  theory,  as  he  believes,  "  comprising  all  principles, 
and  comprised  in  all  experience,"  and  capable,  as  he  humorously 
supposes,  of  being  "  made  evident  and  irresistible  to  the  plainest 
understanding."  * 

The  author  of  the  Vestiges  has  started  from  a  wrong  point  in  the 
establishment  of  his  thesis.  Instead  of  commencing,  like  the  French- 
man, with  the  commencement,  he  has  begun  at  the  conclusion,  and 
worked  backwards,  and  it  is  this  erroneous  direction  which  has 
vitiated  his  whole  procedure.  In  the  mere  distribution  of  the 
contents  of  the  work,  there  is  the  appearance  of  a  double  movement; 
first,  analytical,  in  determining  the  constituont  factors  of  civilization, 
so  far  as  the  mind  of  man  is  concerned ;  and,  secondlj^  synthetical,  in 
applying  these  factors  to  the  actual  development  of  human  history. 
But  a  close  examination  will  show  that  tiic  first  as  well  as  the  second 
part  of  the  Vestiges  is  in  reality  synthetical,  tliough  the  synthesis  is 
in  the  former  instance  applied  to  the  abstract  elements  of  intellectual 
evolution,  in  the  latter  to  the  more  concrete  manifestations  of  human 
advancement.t  In  both  cases,  however,  he  has  in  truth  assumed 
his  system,  and  endeavoured  to  demonstrate  its  verity  by  illustration 
and  analogy — the  onl}''  course  available  for  the  establishment  of 
predetermined  results  in  accordance  witli  predetermined  postulates. 
This  is  the  secret  cause,  the  instinctive  reason,  of  his  recurrence  to 
the  analogical  reasoning  which  he  misapplies: — 

Postulat,  ut  capiat,  qux  noii  intclli^it,  arma.J 

This,  as  already  intimated,  is  the  offence  of  the  ancient  and  medii\3val 
theorists;  and  there  is  a  striking  parallelism  in  the  means  employed 
by  them  and  in  the  Vestiges ;  among  these  we  may  mention  the 
recourse  to  etymologies,  which  may  be  illustrated  by  the  dialogue.* 
of  Plato,  and  by  the  opus  viajus  of  Roger  IJacon,  though  in  a  much 
less  degree  than  in  the  writings  of  most  of  his  precursors  and  con- 
temporaries. When  a  man  of  quick  perception  sits  down  with  the 
detcrnaination  of  seeing  in  the  immense  tretisury  of  recorded  facts 

''  Vestiges,  §  1,  p.  11. 

t  In  this  remark  •n-e  have  vcntureil  to  divfr^'c  from  the  opinion  previously 
expressed,  Avhen  more  attention  was  paid  to  the  author's  professions,  than  to 
the  intrinsic  character  of  his  procedure,  the  object  then  being  a  mere  outline  of 
his  system.  What  little  analysis  is  exhibitcl  in  the  Vestiges  predominates  in 
the  second  part,  but,  wherever  employed,  it  is  always  in  the  discharge  of  a  sub- 
sidiary function. 

I  Ovid.  Met.,  lib.  xiii,  v.  295,  which  we  may  translate,  "He  postulates,  that  he 
may  apply  the  arms  he  cannot  rightly  handle." 


232  Vestiges  of  Civilization.  [April, 

only  the  confirmation  of  a  preconceived  theory,  it  "will  rarely  happen 
that  he  Avill  fail  to  obtain  such  evidence  as  may  satisfy  his  o^yn  easy 
belief  or  beguile  loose  readers  vrho  are  equally  startled  and  over- 
poAvered  by  the  force  of  singular  coincidences,  -whether  these  arise 
from  accident,  design,  or  interdependent  correlation.  For  either 
party  the  merest  shov,-  of  evidence  is  sulFicient,  and  is  believed  to  be 
conclusive ;  though  a  strict  examination  ^vould  in  almost  every  case 
reveal  the  fallacy  of  the  proof  relied  on.  As  the  theory  itself  is  only 
an  arbitrary  assumption  until  proved,  so  the  method  of  proof  by 
which  it  is  to  be  sustained  partakes  of  the  same  arbitrary  and  fanci- 
ful character.  If  history  can  be  taken  as  a  guide,  avc  may  always 
expect  verbal  inferences  to  su]iplant  in  such  cases  veritable  deduc- 
tions, and  etymological  fantasies  to  usurp  the  place  of  induction. 
Something,  indeed,  may  be  attributed  to  diflerent  idiosyncrasies. 
The  tastes  of  the  autlior  of  the  A'cstiges  seem  inclined  towards 
etymological  amusements,  and  he  consequently  displays  a  constant 
appetency  for  etymological  analogies.  M.  Hoene  "Wronski,  on  the 
other  hand,  has  a  partiality  for  mathematics,  transcending  even  the 
regard  of  the  investigator  for  his  mathematical  processes,  and  he 
undertakes  a  similar  journe}-,  and  is  conveyed  over  his  route  by 
mathematical  theorems  and  the  abracadabra  of  a  sublimated  system 
of  algebraic  formulas,  such  as  Lacroix  and  Arago  have  declared 
their  inability  to  comprehend.  Tmt,  in  both  cases,  the  reasoning 
proceeds  from  the  accidents  of  conception,  not  from  the  realities 
of  either  the  facts  or  the  jihcnomena ;  and  hence  necessitates  the 
employment  of  accidental  analogies,  whether  numerical  or  etymo- 
logical. Indeed,  when  both  the  principles  and  the  conclusions  are 
-virtually  fixed  in  advance,  and  it  is  merely  proposed  to  f^ct  over 
the  intermediate  space  by  the  most  direct  line,  it  will  be  alwavs 
practicable,  and  frequently  expedient,  to  leave  the  established  roads, 
and  gallop  across  the  country,  as  if  riding  a  steeple-chase.  And 
such,  let  us  say,  are  the  characteristics  of  this  author's  mode  of 
reasoning. 

The  grievous  error  of  renouncing  the  method  of  Baconian 
induction  in  favour  of  the  loose  and  licentious  procedure  of  the 
scholastic  ages,  lies  at  the  root  of  all  the  blunders  into  which  the 
author  has  fallen.  This  charge  of  reverting  to  the  ante-Baconian 
methods  is  riot  su])ported  on  light  suspicion:  it  is  indicated  by  the 
whole  tenor  of  the  Vestiges,  and  is  virtually  confessed,  when  the  writer 
complains  that  the  people  have  hitlierto  been  asked  to  studv  tlie 
tree  of  knowledge  through  the  branches,  but  never  throu:.-'h  the 
supreme  simplification  of  the  trunk.*  They  liave  not  been  exactlv 
-  Vestiges,  §  1,  p.  10. 


1853.]  '    Vestiges  of  Civilization.  233 

directed  to  study  through  the  branches,  but  through  the  fruits  which 
han.  upon  the  branches:  nor  would  any  one  dream  of  studying 
throuc^h  the  trunk-the  wild  hallucination  of  a  philosoplaaprrma-- 
unlcs?  he  conceived  omniscience  attainable  by  man,  or  desired  to 
perform  the  miracles  of  omniscience  without  its  possession. 

Notwithstanding  such  objections,  perhaps  partly  m  consequence 
of  the  very  defects  objected  to,  the  Vestiges  of  Civilization  arc 
equally  well  calculated  to  delude  the  author  and  to  deceive  the  reader 
with  respect  to  the  validity  of  the  argumentation.     The  facts  are, 
for  the  most  part,  trae,  acutely  selected,  and  judiciously  arranged; 
the  inferences  often  correct,  as  well  as  ingenious,  but  only  partial, 
and  by  no  means  adequate  for  the  complete  explanation  designed; 
but  the  colligation  of  facts  for  the  purpose  of  bolstering  up  the  theory 
is  both  arbitrary  and  erroneous.     The  same  array  of  tacts  will  admit 
equally  well  of  half  a  dozen  other  explanations,  each  as  plausible 
and  more  general.     But  this  is  exactly  the  point  to  which  attention 
is  least  apt  to  be  directed.     M.  Comte,  Vico,  and  many  others. 
have  given  to  a  similar  succession  of  corresponding  tacts  a  very 
different  interpretation.     It  is  one  of  the  necessary  consequences 
of  the  author's  unscientific  method  of  proccdure-of  marshal  mg  Ins 
special  instances  in  support  of  foregone  couelusions-that  his  ex- 
plication  should  be  only  one  of  many  possible  explanations,  and 
utterly  devoid  of  ability  to  establish  its  claims  to  preference  over 

the  others.  ,.,,.,,  n  1  •  1 

The  author  has  never  suspected  the  radical  {allacy  of  his  geiicral 
line  of  argument.      An  interpretation  of   the  phenomena  of   the 
universe,  showing  how  some  or  even  all  of  the  observed  results  might 
possibly  have  been  produced,  or  that  they  do  accord  with  the  condi- 
tions of  a  given  theory,  is  by  no  means  necessarily  either  a  true  or 
an  adequate  exhibition  of  the  mode  in  which  they  were  actually  pro- 
duced     This  would  be  to  mistake  accident  for  law,  and  ingenious 
conjecture  for  the  processes  of  nature.     1  f  wo  concede  to  the  Vestiges 
of  Civilization  that  its  premises  are  correct,  and  its  deductions  just 
it  by  no  means  ensues  that  it  affords  a  correct  interpretation  of 
human  development,  unless  we  also  concede  that  the  premises  are 
adequate  and  coextensive  with  the  subject.    But  it  is_ far  otherwise. 
The  conccntrics  and  eccentrics,  the  cycles  and  epicycles  of  the 
Alexandrian  school-no  greater  ma/.e  than  the  triplicating  triphcities 
of  this  triadic  scheme-certainly  manifested  a  closer  correspondence 
with  the  phenomena  of  the  universe  than  can  be  claimed  for  the 
Vesti-cs;  yet  the  astronomy  of  Ptolemy  has  been  abandoned  as  a 
fictiom     A  well-constructed  orrery  may  exhibit  the  various  revolu- 
tions, mutations,  and  motions  of  the  heavenly  bodies,  preserving 
Fourth  Series,  vol.  V.— L") 


234  Vestiges  of  Civilization.  [April, 

a  correct  representation  of  their  proportionate  magnitudes  and 
periods,  yet  avc  know  that  the  celestial  orbs  revolve  through  space 
without  the  aid  of  the  intricate  wheels  and  clumsy  machinery  which 
regulate  the  phases  of  a  phnietarium.  When  the  definite  results  of 
observation  or  of  scientific  induction  are  the  data  of  the  problem,  and 
the  task  is  to  reason  back  from  these  premises  to  the  modes  of  their 
generation,  a  most  delusive  semblance  of  the  true  theory  of  causa- 
tion may  be  elaborated  by  any  skilful  scheme  ^vhich  the  fancy  may 
conjecture,  provided  its  symmetry  be  artificially  preserved,  and  its 
separate  links  be  made  to  osculate  with  the  intermediate  phenomena. 
Yet  this  only  indicates  what  by  possibility  might  have  been  one  mode 
of  development  out  of  innumerable  others,  not  the  one  which  has 
been  really  operative. 

The  process  is  a  very  different  one,  though  the  dissimilarity  is 
rai'cly  suspected,  of  deducing  theoretically  from  data,  assumed  or 
established,  conclusions  already  settled  by  previous  investigation, 
which  the  author  very  frequently  appears  to  do,  thus  giving  a 
deceptive  efficacy  to  his  argument,  and  discovering  these  conclusions 
by  a  gradual  process  of  ascending  generalizations.  Even  if  the 
starting-point  in  the  former  case  is  hypothctically  assumed,  the  goal. 
the  route,  and  the  stations  along  the  line,  are  all  determined  and 
erected  in  advance,  and  a  very  short  and  arbitrary  passage,  whose 
character  is  unnoticed  or  forgotten,  conveys  the  speculator  to  the 
route  already  constructed.  It  is  the  difference  between  leaving  one's 
own  house  on  foot  or  in  a  private  vehicle  for  the  depot  of  a  railroad, 
and  thence  pursuing  the  journey  by  predetermined  and  p're- 
lurnished  agencies  along  a  preconstructcd  road  to  an  ascertained 
and  determinate  point,  and  the  task  of  locating  the  said  road  through 
the  wilderness,  putting  down  the  station-posts,  regulating  and 
establishing  the  grade,  building  the  roadway,  inventing,  making,  and 
supplying  the  machinery,  and  discovering  and  applying  the  various 
laws  of  nature  which  concm-  in  the  production  of  the  result.  In  the 
latter  case  everything  is  to  be  done,  the  point  of  departure  alone 
being  given;  in  the  former  everything  is  determined,  except  the 
point  of  departure,  and  it  is  indifferent  where  that  may  be,  so  that  it 
is  within  reasonable  distance  of  the  line.  In  the  former  case  all  is 
unknown,  has  to  be  discovered,  invented,  and  provided ;  in  the  latter 
the  road  and  the  conveyance  are  already  constructed,  and  they  will 
not  only  conve}^  the  passenger  safely  to  his  destination,  but  also 
his  baggage,  whether  theories  or  trunks.  \Ve  arc  not  assured 
that  our  metaphorical  parallel  is  very  distinct  or  intelligible— the 
author  of  the  Vestiges  can  forgive  us  much  on  both  scores — but 
such  is  the  difference  between  discovering  and  establishing  the  facts 


1853.]  Vestiges  of  Civilization.  235 

wliich  enter  into  the  composition  of  a  tlieory  of  science,  and  ex- 
plaining, as  is  done  in  the  Vestiges,  those  facts,  ah-eady  demonstrated 
and  received  by  a  novel  theory.  Under  the  latter  circumstances, 
however  fallacious  the  theory  may  be  in  itself,  the  con-espondence 
vrith  the  facts,  especially  if  a  little  violence  bo  employed,  -will  always 
be  sufficiently  striking  to  produce  the  supposition  of  a  natural  and 
not  an  artificial  conformity  between  them  and  the  doctrine ;  while 
the  acknowledged  truth  of  the  facts  themselves  will  reflect  back  the 
apparent  light  of  their  own  truth  upon  the  scheme  by  which  they  are 
feigned  to  be  proved.  And  this  appears  to  be  the  correct  criticism  to 
be  employed  in  estimating  the  Vestiges  of  Civilization,  the  Vestiges 
of  Creation,  the  Eureka  of  Edgar  A.  Toe,  the  Philosophy  of  Nature 
of  Stallo,  and  the  divers  other  works  of  like  character  which  have 
been  recently  issued  from  the  press,  in  which  tliere  is  the  semblance 
of  an  a  priori  or  deductive  demonstration  of  the  system  of  the 
Universe,  while  in  reality  the  argument  is  only  ostensibly  a  de- 
monstration, the  line  of  reasoning  being  trul}'  determined  in  advance 
ex  vi  termini  and  ex  rationc  vi(C.  By  tiiis  procedure  nothing  can 
be  in  reality  established;  it  is  merely  th(?  fanciful  recreation  of  a 
lively  imagination. 

The  examination  of  the  mode  of  reasoning  adopted  by  the  vestiges 
of  civilization  AYOuld  thus  appear  to  show  tliat  it  is  merely  a  capricious 
rifaccimento  of  the  results  of  past  progress  and  present  science, 
■worked  up  into  an  ideal  synthesis  by  imagination  intertwining  there- 
with loose  analogies  and  looser  etymologies.  With  the  exception 
of  this  frenzy  of  fancy  there  is  no  real  construction.  The  system  is 
throughout  the  ashes  of  the  past,  fanned  into  a  fitful,  flickering, 
and  uncertain  glow  by  a  laborious  expenditure  of  breath,  and  a  dis- 
play of  ingenuity  which,  if  properly  apj)lied,  might  have  advanced 
the  frontier  of  any  of  the  sciences.  As  it  is,  there  is  no  real  addi- 
tion to  our  knowledge — no  solid  advancement  of  philosophy  or 
science,  which  can  only  appear  in  the  first  instance  as  the  genn  of 
truth  which  the  future  may  develop,  not  as  a  compact,  complete, 
and  symmetrical  system.  It  ma}'  serve  to  show,  by  the  junction 
of  the  hope  of  success  with  such  a  lawless  procedure,  tliat  the  past 
is  eflete,  and  has  attained  its  limits ;  it  may  reveal  the  urgent  need 
and  aspiration  for  fresh  reconstruction  and  for  the  reexamination 
of  the  conditions  and  compass  of  human  thought;  but  it  only 
indicates  the  more  strikingly  on  that  account  the  anarchical,  confused, 
and  chaotic  character  of  the  intellect  of  au  age,  when  such  reveries 
could  be  conceived  to  be  valid. 

The  remark  of  the  mathematician,  that  he  could  not  perceive 
wliat  was  proved  by  Milton's  Paradise  Lost,  might  be  singularly 


236  Vestiges  of  Civilization.  [April, 

mal-h-propos  as  a  criticism  of  a  poem ;  but  it  is  certainly  a  legitimate 
criterion  in  judging  of  a  ^vork  of  metaphysical  speculation,  pretend- 
ing to  reform  the  whole  range  of  science,  and  to  furnish  a  rational 
development  of  both  the  material  and  intellectual  universe.  What, 
then,  is  proved  by  these  Vestiges  of  Civilization?  Supposing  the 
argumentation  to  be  valid,  to  what  net  result  would  the  conclusions 
bring  us  ?  Assuredly  not  to  the  point  anticipated  hj  the  author — 
not  to  the  recognition  of  either  the  truth  or  sufficiency  of  his  system. 
All  that  we  can  discover  to  be  demonstrable  by  the  work,  even  after 
the  concession  of  our  objections,  is,  that  there  is  an  analogy  which 
runs  through  and  harmonizes  all  parts  of  nature,  and  that  this 
analogy  proceeds  upon  the  basis  of  a  triple  difference  and  a  triple 
resemblance.  Voila  tout.  It  might  establish  a  triadic  similitude 
between  all  the  forms  of  human  development,  but  would  it  uphold 
the  thesis  that  this  was  any  complete  explanation  of  the  process  'r 
Does  it  not  rather  apply  a  law  arbitrarily  assumed,  than  evince  the 
validity  of  the  law,  its  right  to  be  regarded  as  adequate  and  exclusive, 
or  its  reason  ? 

We  have  thus  run  over  the  most  characteristic  defects  of  the 
author's  reasoning,  and,  having  exposed  the  invalidity  of  his  logic,  we 
might  with  propriety  turn  to  the  estimation  of  his  thesis.  The 
presumption  certainly  is  strongly  against  the  possibility  of  a  system 
so  sustained  being  either  trustworthy  or  available,  for  the  vice  of 
the  procedure  must  vitiate  the  results.  But  still  the  Vestiges  may 
be  regarded  in  two  difierent  points  of  view,  either  with  respect  to  the 
scheme  proposed,  or  with  respect  to  the  manner  of  its  proposal ; 
and  each  may  apparently  demand  a  separate  inquiry.  The  one  point 
only  have  we  examined  hitherto,  and  it  was  our  deliberate  intention 
to  have  proceeded  duly  and  patiently  to  the  consideration  of  the 
former :  but  our  remarks  have  already  run  to  such  an  uncontemplated 
length,  that,  though  the  easier  task  remains,  we  must  dispense  with 
its  prosecution,  and  confine  our  further  comments  to  a  few  general 
observations  which  may  reveal  the  weakness  of  the  system,  and  the 
impropriety  of  its  aims. 

The  work  consists  of  two  parts,  essentially  distinct :  the  theory, 
and  its  application  to  human  development.  It  is  the  second  part 
which  more  peculiarly  justifies  the  title  which  has  been  assumed^ 
for  herein  an  effort  is  made  to  trace  the  footsteps  of  advancing 
humanity,  and  to  rearrange  the  Vestiges  of  progressive  civilization. 
With  reference  to  this  purpose  the  name  is  happily  chosen,  though, 
so  far  as  the  accomplishment  of  this  aim  is  concerned,  the  scheme 
of  the  work  dwindles  into  a  mere  philosophy  of  history,  and  enters 
into  competition  with  the  many  other  treatises,  written  with  the  vie-vr 


jg53.3  Vestiges  of  Civilization.  237 

of  discoverms  the  law  of  past  progress.  But  to  detect  that  law  it 
is  necessary  first  to  construct  the  general  theory  of  human  develop- 
ment and  hence  the  scope  of  the  work  is  enlarged,  and  the  first  part 
is  de'voted  to  the  creation  of  a  theory  which  nvvy  furnish  the  c  ue 
to  the  Vestiges  of  Civilization,  and  which  naturally  attempts  the 
solution  of  the  mysteries  of  the  intellectual  and  material  imiverse, 
as  history  exhibits  the  combined  product  of  all  the  faculties  of  man 
operating  in  concert  with  all  the  varied  agencies  of  nature.  Ihus 
both  the  partition  of  the  book  and  the  order  of  its  parts  may  admit 
of  explanation ;  and  this  predetermining  cause  seems  to  be  recogmscd 
by  the  author  himself  in  his  Introduction,  when  he  says  :— 

"But  to  construct  this  scientific  scale,  (to  wir  of  the  conditions  of  pro- 
.ve4ve  civilization,)  of  ^-liich^he  theorem  had  long_«nce  been  attempted 
by  Y  lo,  and  quite  recently  establishe.l  by  Comte,  .vho  '^J  -  S^-^er  ]^-\-^ 
.uccecdin-  the  -reat  Kepler,  of  social  and  unlver^.ll  .^K'nce,  o  voritv  tL. 
•abstract  theory  Ijv  a  general  induction  of  human  lu.torv,  and  ^^nfied,  to 
an  Iv  llto  the  explanation  of  civilization,  (even  a.  La,, lace  oxplamed  the 
Xia  counterpart  bv  the  law  of  pravit^.tion.)  tins  double  task  appears  to 
Ke land  acl£vement  which-  time^  has  kept  in  store  lor  the  positive  method 
of  FrancS  Bacon  and  the  mental  manhood  of  the  nmetecnth  century.  - 

We  have  cited  this  passage  not  merely  for  tlie  purpose  of  in- 
dicating the  agreement  of  the  author's  views  or  instincts  with  the 
interpretation  of  his  plan,  which  we  have  given,  but  because  almost 
every  member  of  this  brief  sentence  is  open  to  objection,  andreveals 
the   existence   of  a   separate   error.     ^Ve  would  observe  that  it 
recognises  the  necessity  of  first  constructmg  the  theory  or  science 
of  cfvilization,  or,  what  is  the  same  thing,  ot  history,  smce  civiliza- 
tion is  only  the  ultimate  product  of  history-the  ..m;.um  senus 
of  science,!   to  use  metaphorically  tlie  phrase  which  the  author 
employs  seriously,  and  that  it  then  asserts  the  necessity  ot  veri- 
fyinc^  this  theory  by  an  induction  from  history.  ^^  e  have  already  com- 
.  lienled  upon  the  misapplication  of  inductive  reasoning  o  the  genera 
puiTOse  of  verifying  a  theory,  and  would  only  note  hc.-e  that  the 
theory  to  be  proved  is  much  ampler  than  the  proot  which  is  offered, 
and  that  the  two  processes  of  the  task  propo.^.d.  as  of  the  book  it- 
self, stand  reciprocally  to  each  other  in  the  relation  of  both  evidence 
and  conclusion.     The  first  part,  or  the  general  theoiy,  is  verified 
by  the  second  part,  or  the  special  induction;  and  the  second  par  , 
or  philosophy  of  history,  is  established  by  tlie  i.rst  or  he  scieivc    ot 
universal  development.     The  conclusions  of  tlie  first  pa.-t  become 
the  premises  of  the  second,  and  the   conclusions  of  the  second 
conslitute  the  verification  of  the  first.     '\  his  procedure  J^  certamly 
guilty  of  all  the  vices  of  arguing  in  a  circle,  of  which  fallacy  it  i. 
-  Vestiges  of  Civilization,  §  o,  pp.  2G,  27.  t  Vestiges.  §  4G.  p.  174. 


238  Vestiges  of  Civilization.  [April, 

only  a  disguised  example.  Thus,  the  whole  interest  of  the  work 
centres  in  the  first  part,  -which  gives  the  philosophy ;  and  the  Vestiges 
of  Civilization,  instead  of  being  examined  as  a  scientific  interpretation 
of  history,  can  only  claim  to  be  estimated  as  a  theoretical  exposition 
of  creative  development.  This  change  of  venue  certainly  enlarges 
the  range  of  view,  but  the  limits  of  the  argument  are  diminished  by 
the  necessity  of  confining  the  attention  to  the  premises  alone,  as  the 
verification  of  the  theory  by  the  conformity  of  its  conclusions  with 
the  alleged  inductions  of  the  second  part  must  bo  entirely  rejected. 
If  the  premises  are  true,  they  receive  no  confirmation  from  the  applica- 
tion of  the  theory  to  human  history :  but  arc  cither  truly  assumed, 
or  must  be  establislied  by  other  eviilcuce. 

Before  we  proceed  to  the  discussio'n  of  these  premises,  let  us 
notice  the  singular  misapprehension  of  conceiving  the  method  of 
Bacon  to  be  positive,  in  the  sense  of  any  supposed  agreement  with 
the  narrow  and  exclusive  system  of  Comte,  and  the  further  and  still 
grosser  blunder  of  supposing  himself  and  his  system  to  be  in  the 
same  line  of  progi-ess  with  the  Baconian  Instain-ation,  whereas,  as  we 
have  shoATO  in  an  eai'licr  passage,  Ids  procedure  evidently  reverts 
to  the  ante-Baconian  method.  The  error  in  regard  to  Comte  has 
been  elsewhere  exposed  by  us,  the  blunder  in  regard  to  himself  is 
too  obvious  to  be  overlooked,  and  can  only  be  equalled  by  the  mockery 
with  which  he  speaks  of  the  mental  manhood  of  the  nineteenth 
century,  when  his  whole  essay,  warp  and  woof,  is  interwoven  with 
his  sneers  and  denunciations  at  the  pedantry,  the  stolidity,  and  the 
ignorance  of  the  age. 

We  have  said  that  the  whole  question  with  regard  to  the  Vestiges 
might  be  legitimately  narrowed  down  to  a  consideration  of  its 
premises.    And  first,  wo  notice  the  general  division  of  the  subject. 

"  Of  Civilization  .  .  .  the  total  evolution  presents  three  clifTercnt  phases, 
proceeds  uiwn  throe  distinct  base-:,  is  porfornicd  in  three  principal  cycles 
progressively.  It  operates  first  upon  tlto  physical  -worW  of  nature ;  next, 
upon  the  moral  world  of  man ;  finally,  i!i>oii  the  lonical  worlu  of  Relation — 
the  relations  subsistinjjj  really  betivccu  t!u■^L'  two  collective  substances."*  .  .  . 
"  The  distinctive  epithets  .  .  .  ^vill  be  the  wonls  ni.ythological,  mctaphvsical, 
and  scientific.  For  description's  sake,  the  cycles  -will  also  be  referred  to 
occasionally  by  certain  other  series  of  corresponding  terms:  such  as,  respcc- 

"  Vestiges,  §  8,  p.  ^^?..  This  position  is  only  a  mutilation  of  the  idea  so  much 
more  lucidly  and  pliiloso{>hically  expressed  by  M.  Coraty,  Cours  do  Phil.  Tos.. 
qnarantiOme  le(;on.  tome  iii,  p.  12G0 :  "LV-tude  dc  rhomme  ct  cclle  du  mondc 
cxterieur  constituent  ni'cossairement  le  double  ct  otornel  sujot  de  toutes  nos 
conceptions  philosophiques.  Chucun  dc  ccs  deux  orJres  dc  speculations  pout 
etre  applique  ii  I'autrc,  ct  lui  scrvir  menic  dc  point  de  dt-part.  De  la  rosultent 
deux  manieres  de  philosopher  cntitU'cment  difiVrcntes,  ct  niOme  radicalcmeut 
opposecs,"  &c.,  &c. 


jg53.]  Vestiges  of  Civilization.  239 

tively,  the  Thysical,  the  Ethical,  the  PhLlosophical ;  or  the  Objective,  the  Sub- 
ipotive  and  the  Systematic.  ,  .  .,,  . 

^.'Ss  arrangement,  I  may  be  allowed  to  say,  lu^  .ometlnng  stiU  more  to 
recommend  it  "than  being  thus  spontaneously  natural  and  methodiealh  con- 
enrr  It  is,  in  tact,  a  compound  and  necessary  result,  m  the  hrst  place  of 
the  Ucal  or^nizatlon  of  the  mind  conceiving;  .ecoudly,  of  the  cosnucal 
order  amonc^  5ie  thln.^s  to  be  conceived :  thirdly,  of  the  consequent  modes  of 
the  conceptTon.  In  more  familiar  terms,  it  Hows  conjointly  from  the  consatu- 
bno?th?  human  intellect,  the  composition  of  the  external  -orR  and  the 
natural  position  of  the  one  towards  the  other,  'i  he  explanat.on  ot  th.=e  three 
fuSSal  factors  of  the  problem  will  therefore  d..u>and  a  prehn^nary  de 
partmentof  the  work;  and,  to^.elher  with  one  to  ea.h  „  ^he  cyclK.a^^^h^ 
will  make  in  aU  the  four  parts  into  which  it  is  accorihngl)  di>tributed. 

It  depends  of  course,  upon  the  execution  of  the  work,  whether  this 
creneral  division  of  the  subject,  prefixed  to  tlie  elaboration  of  the 
System,  is  to  be  regarded  in  the  light  of  the  thesis  to  be  proved,  or  as 
merely  the  indication  of  the  line  of  proof    In  the  present  instance  we 
have  no  hesitation  in  declaring  our  conviction  that  it  is  intended  as  the 
latter   but  is  employed  as  the  former;  it  is  exhibited  as  a  general 
chart  of  the  course  to  be  pursued,  in  which  respect  it  is  free  from 
obiection ;  it  is  used  as  the  general  enunciation  of  the  problem,  and  _ 
thus  becomes  part  of  the  argument,  though,  from  its  more  obvious 
character,  the  relation  of  all  that  follows  and  its  relevancy  as  de- 
monstration are  overlooked,  because  the  issue  is  disused      When 
we  consider  the  statement  we  have  quoted  in  the  hght  of  the  thesis 
of  the  work,  we  perceive,  from  what  has  been  previously  remarked, 
that  it  derives  no  confirmation  from  the  development  of  the  theory; 
but  what  is  certainly  singular,  is,  that  the  author  is  himself  completely 
deluded  by  his  o.ni  fallacious  procedure,  and  virtually  contesses  his 
sophistry  by  alleging  that  the  preliminary  department  of  the  book 
will  be  devoted  to  the  explanation  of  the  three  fundamental  factors 
of  the  problem.     Explanation  is  not  wliat  is  requisite  to  sustain  a 
novel  system:  it  is  of  avail  merely  for  the  purpose  of  elucidating 
Avhat  is  obscure,  or  of  developing  what  is  conceded,  and  cannot  sub- 
serve the  functions  of  proof.     The  very  idea,  therefore,  of  merely 
presenting  an  explanation  of  the  three  fundamental  factors,  indicates 
a  latent  consciousness  that  the  factors  themselves  are  assumed,  and 
that  the  system  is  merely  educed  from  them,  and  its  mode  of  evolu- 
tion explained  in  a  manner  which  might  possibly  be  true  if  the 
premises  were  themselves  true;   but  it  also  admits  that  no  de- 
monstration of  the  truth  of  either  system  or  premises  is  attempted 
x\s  the  enunciation  of  the  plan  is  to  be  received  as  the  thesis, 
and  the  factors  considered  as  data,  it  is  of  importance  to  estimate 
the  value  of  both.     In  speaking  of  M.  Comte's  Philosophy  on  a 
previous  occasion,  we  have  shown  the  fallacy  of  the  distribution  of 
the  periods  of  history  into  the  three  eras  proposed-for  in  this 


240  Vestiges  of  Civilization.  [April, 

respect  the  Vestiges  are  indebted  to  M.  Comte— and  -we  have 
also  alleged  strong  reasons  for  regarding  this  ternary  division  of 
the  processes  of  civilization  as  a  large  lump  of  arbitrary  fiction 
worked  up  with  a  very  minute  leaven  of  truth.  It  is  here  that  the 
author  of  the  A''estige3,  in  receiving  M.  Comte's  distribution  of 
human  progress,  looks  at  it  from  a  very  dilTerent  point  of  view. 
He  is  a  dogmatic,  and  not  a  positive  philosopher;  he  reasons  not 
by  the  process  of  induction,  but  by  that  ante-Baconian  method  of 
Analogy  which  unites  tlie  forms  of  imperfect  induction  with  the 
essence  of  illegitimate  deduction ;  he  does  not  stop  at  the  phenomena, 
but  proposes  to  reveal  the  law  of  their  production  by  a  theory  con- 
structed a  priori ;  he  is  not  content  with  the  indications  of  the 
facts  in  nature,  but  endeavours  to  subordinate  them  to  a  purely  ideal 
theory.  He  thus  falls  into  the  vulgar  cnror*  of  mistaking  the  sub- 
jective processes  of  his  own  fancy  for  the  laM's  of  the  universe ;  and 
thus,  although  more  frequently  indebted  to  M.  Comte  than  he  sup- 
poses, yet  he  is  entirely  severed  from  his  school,  and  contemplates 
in  a  veiy  different  light  every  position  which  he  borrows  from  him. 
Thus,  although  the  three  eras  of  history  are  derived  from  the  Positive 
Pliilosophy,  they  arc  contemf>latcd  in  a  somewhat  different  manner 
in  the  Vestiges,  and  enter  into  that  system  of  complicate  triplicities 
which,  without  being  wholly  original,  are  so  eminently  characteristic 
of  the  work.  We  will  not  repeat  the  exposure  of  this  division  which 
we  formerly  gave,  but  will  o)ily  remark  that  the  three  processes  to 
which  they  are  linked  in  the  Vestiges,  are,  in  plain  language,  divested 
of  the  appearance  of  mystery  ah'l  profundity  with  which  they  have 
been  clothed,  nothing  more  than  action,  reaction,  and  combination, 
constituting  thus  a  natural  and  almost  necessary  procedure,  but 
one  which  is  neither  distinctive,  nor  characteristic,  nor  peculiar.! 

It  deserves  to  be  noted  tiiat  the  series  of  terms,  supposed  to  be 
equivalent  in  the  extract  made  above,  reveals  by  no  means  that  identity 
or  accordance  which  would  permit  their  indiscriminate  substitution 
for  each  other.  Nor  is  the  arrangement  "  spontaneously  natural  " 
or  "methodically  convenient,"  except  so  far  as  it  may  be  natural; 
for  it  can  hardly  be  supposed  to  have  been  spontaneous  to  the  author 
of  the  Vestiges,  and  convenient  merely  for  the  purposes  of  his  own 
preconceived  method.  All  that  follows  in  regard  to  the  logical 
organization  of  the  mind  conceiving,  with  the  changes  which  are 
rung  upon  that  tune,  signifies  simply  that  knowledge  results  from 
the  agency  of  a  mind  capable  of  knowing,  and  the  existence  of  ob- 

°  So  chnractorizpd  l>y  ^lill.    Logic,  book  v,  §  3,  p.  4".9. 

t  Hence  he  falLs  into  all  the  falhicies  rosultiug  from  erroneous  and  defective 
classification. 


1853.]  Vestiges  of  Civilization.  241 

jccts  capable  of  beino;  kno^n.  Surely  the  truism,  so  disguised,  so 
quaintly  bedecked,  so  elaborately  and  variously  expressed,  as  if 
jjmost  beyond  the  reach  of  ordinary  comprehension,  is  not  so 
strange  or  so  incompatible  -with  the  various  other  expositions  of  the 
intelligible  universe,  that  it  can  become  the  foundation  of  a  novel  or 
exclusive  system.     So  much  for  the  statement  of  the  thesis. 

But  let  us  proceed  Nvith  the  subject  that  Ave  may  escape  from  this 
bed  of  thorns,  ut  omncs  istos  aculeos  cl  lortuosum  genus  dis- 
putandi  rclinquamus :  let  ns  examine  the  premise,  postulate,  in- 
ference, induction  or  fact,  which  forms  the  corner-stone  of  the  ex- 
planation of  the  theory  of  the  Vestiges.  As  the  object  of  the  work 
is  to  develop  th«  whole  phenomena  of  civili?;ation  and  creation  by 
the  uniform  operation  of  a  single  law,  and  as  the  character  of  this 
law  is  assumed  to  be  the  triple  distinction,  the  threefold  evolution, 
and  the  ternary  complication — fwe  can  play  on  the  triangle  too) — 
of  the  same  fundamental  principle,  thus  revealing  the  triune  hoj-mony 
and  progression  which  pervade  all  the  phenomena  of  the  universe, 
and  constitute  the  essence  of  the  system,  the  first  step  to  be  taken 
is  to  establish  the  point  of  departure,  the  unit  or  atom  from  which 
all  these  methodical  harmonies  are  to  proceed.  The  task,  it  will  be 
recognised,  is  similar  to  that  pro])osed  to  himself,  but  not  completed 
by  Schelling,  though  pursued  in  a  very  difl'ercut  spirit  and  by  dis- 
similar means.  If  the  purpose  had  been  to  construct  a  system  by 
legitimate  induction,  to  arrive  at  the  ultimate  unity  of  the  law^s  of 
nature  by  progressive  generalizations,  die  diversities  of  external 
phenomena  and  the  reciprocal  aflinitios  of  ^jhysical  laws  must  have 
been  the  first  objects  of  attention,  an<l  this  was  the  procedure  of 
Comte,  though  without  entertaining  any  such  transcendental  ideas. 
But  as  the  method  to  which  the  temper  of  the  author's  mind  inclined 
him  was  the  process  of  theoretic  construction,  it  was  necessary  to 
begin  at  the  other  end  of  the  line,  and  hence  we  arrive  at  another 
reason,  recognised  or  instinctive,  for  the  order  in  which  the  parts  of 
the  Vestiges  are  arranged.  Thus  tlie  work  naturally  commences 
with  the  loose  examination  of  the  mind,  which  is  to  constitute  the 
tjrpe,  and  furnish  the  law  for  all  ulterior  developments.  The  triune 
character  of  the  mind  must  be  first  established,  or  its  unity  asserted, 
and  any  arbitrary  distinction  will  afterwards  supply  the  triple  com- 
plication desired.  The  unity  needed  is  found  by  the  reduction  of 
all  the  intellectual  faculties  to  one  "sole  intellectual  faculty" — 
perception — '-'so  to  speak,  the  monad  of  mind,  and  consequently 
the  common  denominator  of  civilization."  *     We  might  ask   why 

o  Vestiges,  §  13,  p.  12. 


242  Vestiges  of  Civilization.  [April, 

'■consequently'.'"  and  Avhy  "  the  common  denominator  V"  but  we  will 
not  stop  to  make  these  inquiries. 

If  we  examine  the  expose  of  the  Vestiges,  we  shall  find  that  the 
reduction  of  all  the  faculties  of  the  mind  to  one,  and  to  this  parti- 
cular one  especially,  and  the  limitation  of  all  its  various  modes  to 
a  single  specific  type,  is  neither  accurate  in  itself,  nor  capable  of 
affording  the  advantages  sought  from  it.  In  the  first  place,  it  proceeds 
upon  an  entire  misconception  of  the  nature  and  meaning  of  a  faculty 
which  is  not  a  distinct  entity,  but  simply  a  difference  of  form  in  the 
operation.  The  author's  etymological  tastes  might  have  rendered  him 
some  service  here.  In  the  ne.\t  ])lace,  the  unity  of  the  intellect  has 
never  been  denied,  so  far  as  we  are  aware,  except  by  such  men  as  Para- 
celsus and  \^u  Ilclmont ;.  and  the  author's  process  merely  substitutes 
the  term  Perception  for  Intellect,  the  specific  manifestation  for  the 
acting  cause,  thus  unwarrantnbl}'  producing  a  needless  multiplication 
of  equivalent  terms.  Moreover,  the  alleged  varieties  of  Perception 
are  just  as  truly  diversities  of  thought  as  the  faculties  which  he  has 
attempted  to  cashier:  his  argument  thus  leads  him  to  the  same 
conclusion  which  it  Avas  designed  to  siibvert.  It  is,  too,  a  very  forced 
construction  of  the  term  Perception  to  require  it  to  subserve  the 
new  functions  assigned  to  it.  It  is  true  that  the  word  is,  with  the 
possible  exception  of  the  term  Idea,  the  most  slippery  and  intractable 
in  the  whole  vocabulary  of  metaphysics ;  but  this  is  no  recommendation 
for  its  new  employment.  The  acute  criticism  of  Sir  William  Hamilton 
has  nearly  succeeded  in  banishing  it  from  the  metaphysical  nomen- 
clature as  a  useless  and  officious  gu-between,  which,  like  all  inter- 
meddlers,  was  only  calculated  to  produce  embarrassment  and  mis- 
understanding. Yet  this  very  phrase,  so  illusory  in  its  vague  and 
multitudinous  usages,  so  unnecessary  in  all  but  the  most  restricted 
acceptation,  is  now  recalled  as  a  rnaid-of-all-work,  and  is  dilated, 
amplified,  and  mystified  by  this  author,  \mtil  the  indefinite  latitude 
of  its  new  signification  is  utterly  at  variance  with  its  ordinary  mean- 
ing, and  it  is  converted  into  an  exact  synonym  with  mind.  It  is 
only  by  the  consolidation  of  all  the  clouds  of  meaning,  w^hich  float 
like  a  bazy  halo  around  the  central  idea  involved  in  the  term,  and 
by  a  most  untechnical  and  unauthorized  employment  of  it,  that  it 
can  be  applied  in  any  such  way ;  and  then,  instead  of  introducing 
simplification,  it  carries  its  oavu  misty  vagueness  into  the  whole  realm 
which  it  is  designed  to  regulate,  systematize,  and  rule.  Yet,  not- 
withstanding this  characteristic  nebulosity,  and  with  all  its  advantages 
for  confused  speculation,  and  its  inaptitude  for  accurate  reasoning, 
it  is  actually  employed  as  the  attenuation  of  the  idea  of  sensation, 
furnishing  the  substratum  for  a  shadowy  creed,  for  which  sensation 


1853.]  Vestiges  of  Civilization.  243 

is  too  metaphysical,  as  representing  an  apparent  entity  or  function 
of  an  entity.  It  is  intended,  at  the  same  time  that  it  usurps  the 
throne  of  mind,  to  be  also  a  sublimation — a  vaporization — of  the 
notion  of  sensation,  and  to  represent  the  mere  phenomenal  act  of 
relation  between  the  thing  knowing  and  the  thing  known,  which  is 
coarsely  designated  b}'  materialistic  and  otlier  philosophers  as  the 
act  of  sensation.  In  the  raental  manhood  of  the  nineteenth  century 
has  the  intellect  dwindled  into  this  mere  shadow  of  itself?  The 
human  mind,  according  to  the  French  philosophers,  had  been  re- 
garded as  a  too  mystical  entity,  a  too  fiery  particle,  and  was  by 
them  degi-aded  into  mere  animalized  sensation.  It  is  now  evaporated 
into  the  simple  phenomenon  of  sensation — the  mere  relation  between 
the  thing  knowing  and  the  thing  known,  thus  showing  how  the 
mysticism  of  idealism  may  be  transmuted  into  the  mysticism  of 
empiricism ;  so  closely  analogous  to  the  earlier  excess,  both  in  form 
and  appearance,  as  to  be  spectral  in  both  extremes.  Tims  the  vestiges 
of  former  errors  are  revived  as  the  land-marks  of  succeeding  genera- 
tions; and  the  resemblance  of  the  two  might  e.xcitc  surprise,  if  we 
did  not  know  that  the  diminution  of  gi'avitation  was  equal  at  equal 
distances  on  both  sides  of  the  centre  of  gravity;  and  that  negative 
and  positive  distances,  or  distances  measured  in  opposite  directions, 
were  identically  the  same. 

Such  is  the  unity  which  is  received  as  the  corner-stone  of  the 
Vestiges.  When  we  note  the  manner  in  which  the  author  attempts 
to  establish  it,*  we  shall  discover  that  the  argument  is  as  invalid 
and  unwarrantable  as  the  result.  There  is  throughout  an  entire 
ignoratio  elenchi.  The  identity  of  the  agent  is  assumed  as  proof 
of  the  identity  of  its  actions ;  the  unity  of  the  mind  regarded  as 
evidence  of  the  unity  of  its  processes.  By  this  mode  of  reasoning 
the  leaf,  the  flower,  and  the  fruit  would  be  demonstrated  to  be  the 
same,  because  produced  by  one  and  the  samo  vital  energy. 

The  Perception  thus  inducted  as  the  original  germ  and  unit  of 
the  whole  contemplated  scries,  by  its  very  looseness  and  vagueness 
lends  itself  readily  to  the  scheme  of  the  author;  and  by  an  easy 
selection  of  a  certain  definite  number  of  mental  operations,  and 
their  reference  to  perception  as  a  type,  a  table  of  triads  is  promptly 
drawn  up,  and  the  first  round  in  the  ladder  of  the  theory  is  secured. 
In  the  words  of  this  writer — • 

"  Perception  passes  proiircssivcly,  arnl  in  ooii.-Li|iicnoe  of  the  constant  eflbrt 
to  siQiplity  the  phenomenal  worUl  into  harnioiiy  witli  its  own  unity,  throuiih — 

1st  (scric;,)   SensatioM :         ^Memory :  Imagination. 

2d  Reflection:        Abslra<tion :       Ccneralization. 

3d  llcasoning:        Comparison:      Method."  t 

=•  Vestiges,  §  9,  pp.  30,  36.  t  Vcstises.  §  3,  p.  47. 


244  Vestiges  of  Civilization.  [April, 

According  to  the  Vcsti<^c3,  Perception  is  tlie  sole  faculty  of  the 
mind,  hence  the  equivalent  of  the  mind ;  and  the  signification  of  the 
above  declaration  is,  that  the  mind,  in  its  endeavour  to  harmonize 
the  diversities  of  nature  ^vith  its  own  unity,  passes  through  the 
series  indicated ;  or,  in  other  -svords,  constructs  this  scheme  for  the 
gi-atification  of  its  OT\-n  caprices,  or  the  satisfaction  of  its  own  desires. 
The  asseveration  then  simply  amounts  to  this,  that  the  scheme  is  an 
ideal  one — a  mere  cobweb  of  the  brain,  efhcicnt  to  catch  flies,  but 
not  potent  enough  to  fetter  the  universe.  The  table  itself  is  open 
to  its  own  objections.  ^Vhat  sort  of  affinity  is  there  between  Per- 
ception and  the  act  or  faculty  of  Abstraction,  or  between  Perception 
and  the  process  of  Reasoning?  AVhy  may  we  not  add  another 
term  to  each  of  these  series— to  the  first,  Conception;  to  the  second, 
Judgment ;  to  the  third,  Comprehension  ? — or  interpose  this  triad  in 
the  list  as  a  new  series  ?  The  table  is  evidently  incomplete ;  it  does 
not  furnish  the  full  catalogue  of  mental  processes;  it  classifies  a^id 
distributes  them  erroneously,  as  in  making  Comparison  a  step 
beyond  Reasoning,  of  which  it  is  one  of  the  principal  elements. 
In  fact,  the  scheme  is  a  mere  artifice,  presenting  by  its  ap- 
parent regularity  the  presumption  of  validity,  but  in  no  respect 
comporting  wuth  either  the  conditions  of  truth,  or  the  actual 
necessities  of  the  problem.  It  is  just  such  a  piece  of  verbal 
miracle-mongering  as  might  amuse  an  idle  audience,  but  could 
hardly  beguile  a  reflecting  man,  not  misled  by  the  seductions  of 
a  theory. 

We  have  no  intention  to  advance  fiu-ther  in  the  consideration  of 
this  novel  system,  although  it  would  be  as  easy  to  destroy  the 
fantastic  edifice  as  it  was  easy  to  construct  it.  In  both  cases 
ce  ii'est  que  le  premier  pas  qui  coiite.  In  consideration  of  his 
reverence  for  French,  we  give  tlie  author  the  benefit  of  the  French 
proverb.  Rut  it  is  not  our  purpose  to  examine  the  scheme,  simply 
because  we  have  not  the  time,  and  do  not  deem  it  requisite.  We 
have  shown  the  invalidity  of  the  author  s  logic,  the  fallacy  of  his 
premises  and  procedure,  the  entire  absence  of  anything  having  the 
character  of  proof  as  of  anything  entitled  to  be  considered  as  evidence 
of  the  special  thesis  proclaimed ;  and  if  we  refuse  to  attack  the 
systefli  itself,  thus  left  entirely  without  support,  the  fortress  is  not 
the  less  eflectually  reduced  because  we  decline  to  draw  the  plough 
over  the  lines  of  its  cmmbling  walls. 

We  will  only  say  of  the  theory,  as  of  the  reasoning  by  which  it 
is  maintained,  that  it  is  a  strange  and  hybrid  production — a  curious 
cross  between  the  Transcendentalism  of  Schelling  and  the  Positiv- 
ism of  Comte.     The  aim  is  derived  from  Comte,  the  spirit  is  an 


1853.]  Vestiges  of  Chilization.  245 

emanation  from  the  German  school ;  the  form  belongs  to  the  tj'pe 
of  the  ideal  philosophies  of  nature,  but  occasional  suggestions, 
details,  and  principles  are  derived  from  the  Cows  dc  Philosophie 
Positive.  It  is  singular,  again,  that  the  Messianisme  of  Hoene 
Wronski  is  never  once  mentioned  by  this  author — singular  in 
more  respects  than  one.  The  system  of  the  A''cstiges  is,  indeed, 
rather  analogous  to  the  Messianisme  than  identical  M'ith  it,  inasmuch 
as  the  latter  contemplates  the  reedification  and  sublimation  of 
Christianity,  the  former  its  extinction;  but  both  presuppose  as 
implicit  principles  the  proposed  results  of  their  doctrines,  and  the 
line  of  the  argument,  the  style  of  the  reasoning,  and  the  convolutions 
of  the  scheme  in  accordance  with  the  triplicities  of  a  mathematical 
law,  are  strikingly  similar.  There  is  the  same  triadic  progression  of 
apparently  identical  processes ;  the  same  recognition  of  mathematics 
not  merely  as  the  most  certain  science,  but  as  the  one  science — the 
type,  instrument,  creator,  and  embodiment  of  all  the  sciences* — 
and  the  same  design  to  construct  through  its  agency  the  one  absolute 
and  universal  science.!  If,  under  these  circumstances, — and  the 
parallelism  might  be  much  extended, — if  the  author  of  the  Vestiges 
has  not  studied  M.  Wronski's  speculations',  as  we  arc  disposed  to 
believe  from  all  appearances  that  he  has  not  done,  this  spontaneous 
and  unconscious  coincidence  in  systematic  error  is  certainly  remark- 
able. It  may,  however,  with  the  corresponding  theories  of  Poe 
and  Stallo,  reveal  the  licentious  tendencies  of  modern  intellectual 
speculation,  and  prove  that  the  recurrence  to  the  ante-Baconian 
processes  must  result  in  the  resurrection  of  the  dreams  of  the 
Scholastics.  If,  as  we  do  not  suspect,  the  author  of  the  Vestiges 
has  pondered  over  the  mathematical  abysms  and  inextricable 
confusion  of  the  Philosophie  Absoluc,  liis  failure  to  mention  the 
triumph  of  his  penetration  in  mastering  the  ijitricate  uniformity  and 
systematic  perplexity  of  the  ^Nlcasianisme  would  be  even  more  sur- 
prising. In  either  case,  there  is  nothing  half  so  miraculous  in  the 
affinities  of  Telesio  and  Campanclla  as  in  the  agreement  of  the 
Investigator  and  Iloeno  Wronski. 

The  contrast  between  the  pucposes  of  these  authors  is  as  remark- 
able as  their  analogies.  M.  Wronski  proposes  that  each  individual 
should  philosophically  evolve  his  own  Paraclete  and  effectuate  his  own 
salvation;  the  author  of  the  Vestiges  indulges  the  hope  that  every 
rational  man  will  disown  scientifically  "  the  traditional  dictates  of  a 
farrago  of  nursery-tales  imagined  t^vo  or  three  thousand  years  ago 
by  a  handful  of  scrofulous  barbarians,  the  refuse  of  the  ancient  and 

"  Vestiges,  §  31.  p.  IIG.  t  Vestiges,  §  31,  p.  100;  §  61.  p.  194. 


246  Vcsligcs  of  Civilization.  [A})ri], 

the  ridicule  of  the  modern  ^Yorld."'^■  It  \vould  be  an  easy  office  to 
us  to  censure  in  stronger,  because  more  appropriate  and  lei^itimate, 
language,  such  glaring  improprieties  of  thought  and  expression,  but 
we  refrain  from  doing  so  for  reasons  which  we  shall  soon  state; 
and,  if  an  author  of  such  high  talent  and  such  vigour  of  intellect 
condescends  to  defile  his  v.'ork  by  substituting  Billingsgate  for 
argument,  and  by  mistaking  blasphemy  fur  profundity,  we  will  let  it 
pass  without  rebuke — it  shall  surely  have  its  own  reward.  But  we 
were  noticing  the  contrast  bctvrccn  the  Mcssianismc  and  the  Vestiges, 
a  contrast  which  produces  a  notable  result.  M.  Wronski  undertakes 
to  generate  from  human  reason  a  God :  the  author  of  the  Vestiges 
to  construct  from  human  experience  a  new  organism.  M.  Cornte  had 
endeavoured  to  elaborate  and  introduce  a  new  religion — the  worship 
of  Humanity — and  to  elevate  Humanity  to  divine  honours — 
"le  veritable  Grand-Eire'" — " /c  nouvel  Eire  Supreme.'''  The 
Vestiges,  herein  following  in  the  footsteps  of  tlic  Positive  Philosophy, 
but  deviating  slightly  from  its  course,  converts  the  shadowy  Jupiter, 
the  phenomenal  divinity  of  Positivism,  into  a  reality,  and  recognises 
in  the  same  humanity,  or  rggrcgate  collection  of  all  men,  a  new, 
separate,  and  individual  existence  t — thus  taking  his  stand  at  the 
pole  opposite  to  M.  ^Vronski.  Tlie  error  of  both  the  Vestiges  and 
the  Positive  System  is  virtually  identical  with  the  ancient  delusion 
of  endowing  the  universe  with  an  a?nma  mundi,  and  regarding  the 
earth  as  an  animated  mass ;  and  arises  in  both  instances  from  the 
same  disposition  to  hy])ostailze  generahzations  and  abstractions, 
though  tlie  burthen  of  the  complaint  with  M.  Comtc  and  this 
anonymous  writer  is  directed  against  this  fallacy. 

"But  half  of  our  solemn  task  is  done,"  and  yet  we  hasten  to  a 
close.  We  have  left  the  system  of  the  Vestiges  entirely  untouched : 
we  have  exhibited  but  a  slight  portion  of  the  general  and  characteristic 
defects  of  the  work ;  and  we  have  certainly  not  attempted  to  gather 
even  the  tithe  of  the  errors,  the  mistakes,  the  fallacies,  or  the  fantasies 
which  distinguish  the  details.  Yet  our  censure  has  run  to  such  a 
length,  and  has  hurried  over  so  many  and  such  grave  topics,  that 
some  explanation  seems  requisite  to  justify  the  praise  which  we  have 
at  times  bestowed  upon  the  treatise,  and  the  eulogy  and  respect 
with  which  we  have  ahs-ays  spoken  of  the  author. 

Glancing  through  the  mists  and  clouds  of  this  untenable  specula- 
tion, steal  every  now  and  then  brilliant  glimpses  of  a  brighter,  clearer 
purer  heaven  of  thought  beyond,  where  the  mind  of  the  author  is 

^  Vcstigos,  §  lli,  p.  35;'.    Such  unworthy  indecorum — to  say  no  more — is  of 
constant  recurrence. 
t  Vestiges,  §  17,  p.  18i. 


1S53.3  Vestiges  of  Civilization.  247 

no  infrequent  visitant,  thougli  lost  and  bewildered  in  the  fogs  amongst 
which  he  has  proposed  to  fix  his  abode.  iSinccre  confidence  in 
human  progress,  earnest  aspirations  for  the  greater  perfection  of  man, 
a  high-toned  morality,  and  a  chivalrous  purity  of  sentiment,  though 
sadly  dashed  with  impropriety  in  the  expression,  break  strangely 
across  the  gloom  in  which  he  has  chosen  to  invest  himself,  and  form 
quaint  but  favourable  contrasts  with  his  system.  Such  traits  justify 
the  belief,  that  however  far  he  may  have  wandered  from  the  truth, 
the  light  which  led  his  steps  astray  was  light  from  heaven.  More- 
over, there  is  a  constant,  though  not  contiiuious,  display  of  genius 
of  no  com.mon  order:  a  singular  perspicacity  in  seizing  and  un- 
ravelling the  smaller  knots  and  tangles  which  fetter  the  intellect : 
much  original  observation  and  valuable  suggestion  in  points  in- 
cidental ;  and  a  critical  acumen,  with  a  depth  of  comprehension,  not 
often  rivalled.  His  criticisms  on  the  great  authors  of  this  and 
former  ages,  and  on  their  positions,  are  eminently  acute  and,  in  the 
main,  just,  and  afford  the  best  evidence  with  which  he  has  furnished 
us  of  his  genuine  ability  and  real  powers.  His  comments  upon 
Aristotle,  iJacon,  Comte,  Mill,  etc.,  reveal  a  higher  order  of  talent 
than  the  whole  elaboration  of  his  system.  ^Ve  have  read  and  re- 
read them  with  care  and  profit ;  and  we  cannot  refuse  to  accord  to 
their  author,  however  erratic,  singular  vigour  of  intellect,  although 
we  protest  against  his  heretical  opinions  and  reject  his  chimerical 
Bcheme. 

Of  the  tendency  of  that  scheme  and  thcio  opinions  v\-e  have  said 
nothing;  it  may  be  easily  understood.  "Wo  have,  in  some  measure, 
avoided  speaking  on  the  subject  as  it  is  so  intimately  connected 
with  tlie  undiluted  infidelity  of  the  work,  to  which  wo  have  so  far 
barely  alluded,  and  which  we  were  reluctant  to  discuss.  The  Vestiges 
of  Civilization  is  deliberately  and  conspicuously  infidel,  but  it  is 
negatively  and  inferentially  rather  than  po.^itively  and  dogmatically 
so.  It  does  not  formally  attack  Christianity  and  religion,  but  it 
continually  sneers  at  both,  and  implicitly  a.-^.sumes  or  boldly  asserts 
throughout  that  they  are  the  follies  and  puerilities  of  a  bygone  age, 
which  are  virtually  cashiered  among  all  rclleoting  men.  In  our  reply 
we  have  endeavoured  neither  to  assert  nor  assume  the  opposite — 
not  from  any  indifference  or  lukewarmness  on  this  subject,  not  from 
the  fear  of  assailing  a  fallacy  and  [u-osumption  Avcaker  even  than 
the  system  by  which  they  were  supposed  to  be  sustained,  and  more 
untenable  than  the  logic  by  which  tiie  theory  was  developed,  but  for 
very  different  reasons.  In  the  first  place,  we  would  not  stoop  to  reply 
to  ridicule  or  irony:  if  the  author  so  far  forgot  himself  as  to  deal 
in  sneers,  we  would  not  lower  our  own  dignity  and  self-respect  so 


248  Vestiges  of  Civilization.  [April, 

far  as  to  refute  them.  But  our  forbearance  has  been  chiefly  due  to 
the  connction  that  the  dcreligiouii^cd  philosophy  of  the  day,  -which 
is  becoming  almost  universal,  must  be  encountered  and  overthrown 
on  its  own  chosen  field  of  battle,  and  principally,  if  not  entirely,  by 
the  assistance  of  that  metaphysical  and  scientific  reason  which  is 
the  weapon  of  offence.  To  grapple  fairly  with  it,  and  secure  a 
candid  judgment,  we  must  fight  v.itli  espial  arms,  denying  ourselves 
the  use  of  that  celdtial  armour,  which,  while  impenetrable  in  reality 
itself,  might  render  us  invulnerable,  and,  like  the  dinne  armour  of 
ancient  fiction,  might  be  asserted  by  our  adversaries  to  render  us 
intangible  and  invisible  also.  There  is,  in  reality,  no  common 
measure  of  truth  between  the  Clirislian  f»hilosopher3  and  the  scientific 
sceptics  of  the  day,  unless  the  former  lay  aside  for  a  while  their 
panoply  of  religious  faith  in  the  discussion.  The  two  parties 
stand  in  different  and  not  even  intersecting  planes,  and  thus,  while 
vigorously  making  passes  and  dealing  trenchant  blows  at  each  other, 
they  actually  do  nothing  more  than  fraitlcssly  beat  the  air  with  the 
savage  acrimony  and  blood-thirsty  ardour  of  theatrical  combatants. 
.As  our  assailants  cannot  ascend  to  our  level,  we  must  descend  to 
theirs.  Moreover,  we  confess  that  tlic}^  have  some  right  to  ask  this 
at  oiu-  hands,  for  any  argument  wliich  rests  mainly  on  a  Christian 
or  religious  basis  is,  so  far  as  it  is  a  reply  to  these  antagonists,  unfair 
or  inoperative.  Such  an  argument  is  addressed  merely  to  those 
who  already  entertain  a  fixed  belief  in  Christianity,  and  therefore  pre- 
supposes without  examination  the  validity  and  exclusive  sufiiciency 
of  the  Christian  proof,  and  l>y  a  like  prejudgment  is  conceived  to 
establish  the  falsehood  and  dt-ccption  of  the  antagonistic  doctrine. 
It  thus  becomes  at  once  an  cj-ixi/jncnlum  ad  hominem  and  an  argu- 
mcntum  ad  verccundiam.  and  is  tainted  with  the  fallacious  con- 
sequences incident  to  both.  Moreover,  it  meets  with  consideration 
and  credence  only  from  those  already  within  the  Christian  camp, 
and  then  not  from  any  appreciation  of  its  real  strength,  but  from  its 
accordance  with  inherent  and  unanulyzed  convictions,  and  from 
repugnance  to  contradictory  viev^s.  But  it  cannot  for  one  moment 
secure  the  attention,  or  invite  the  candid  examination  of  either  the 
leaders  or  the  partisans  of  opposing  schools,  and  has  no  tenacious 
hold  on  the  large  class  that  may  be  indiff(,'rent  to  religion,  may  enjoy 
its  embarrassments,  or  even  discomfiture,  and  may  be  inclined  bv 
the  natural  downward  tendency  to  sink  into  the  more  terrestrial 
sphere  of  the  enemies  of  religion.  For  these  reasons,  which  have 
regulated  our  conduct  on  former  occasions,  avc  have  been  anxious  to 
eliminate  as  completely  as  possible  the  religious  aspects  of  the  con- 
troversy, and  t-o  leave  these  to  be  determined  rather  by  way  of 


1853.]  Geographical  and  iSlatislical  Science.  249 

inference  from  the  general  tenor  and  results  of  our  reasoning,  than 
by  either  positive  demonstration  or  implication  in  its  data  or  develop- 
ment. Let  us  add,  too,  for  the  admission  is  just  and  required  by 
candour,  that  as  the  validity  of  the  Christian  faith  is  the  point 
ultimately  and  virtually  in  issue  in  the  whole  discussion,  however 
chary  either  party  may  be  of  stating  this  as  the  proposed  cxitus  of 
the  question,  it  is  a  grave  logical  offence,  being  no  less  than  a  peiitio 
principii  of  the  coarsest  character,  to  use  the  assumption  of  Chris- 
tian truth  or  its  demonstration  aliunde  in  any  of  the  preliminary 
discussions,  before  the  merits  of  the  great  pending  controversies 
may  be  settled  on  their  own  distinctive  principles,  philosophical  or 
scientific.  For  these  reasons  we  have  been  Avilling  to  meet  the 
assaults  of  human  reason  with  its  own  weapons,  without  hurling 
back  either  ecclesiastical  censures  or  theological  airath«mas. 

We  firmly  believe  that,  even  within  the  domain  of  human  science 
d  philosophy,  all  the  attacks  of  the  enemies  of  the  Chi'istian 
religion  may  be  successfully  met  and  repelled,  and  overwhelming 
proof  may  be  produced  that  those  attacks  spring  not  from  the 
strength,  but  from  the  weakness  of  human  reason;  not  from  the 
abundance  of  knowledge,  but  from  its  imperfections.  Such  a  defence 
must,  on  their  own  principles,  be  considered,  received,  and  acknowl- 
edged by  our  adversaries,  while  we  escape  the  peril  and,  perhaps, 
the  sacrilege  of  laying  an  unhallowed  hand  upon  the  ark  itself 
A  Aictory  thus  obtained,  and  entitled  to  be  admitted  by  our  antagonists 
themselves,  must  be  more  satisfactory  to  all  parties  than  a  doubtful 
triumph,  clamorously  proclaimed  by  one  and  strenuously  denied 
by  the  other. 


an 


Art.  IV— GEOGRArinCAL  AND  STATISTICAL  SCIENCE. 

Bulletin  of  the  Ainerican  Geographical  and  Statistical  Society.     Volume  I,  Num- 
ber 1.    Published  for  the  Society  by  GKor.ar.  P.  Pi-tnam.     Now- York. 

It  is  matter  of  surprise,  if  not  of  reproach,  to  the  intelligence  of 
New- York,  that  the  place  should  have  remained  so  long  vacant 
in  the  circle  of  our  literary  and  scientific  institutions  which  the 
Society  now  under  consideration  proposes  to  occupy.  With  the 
bold  spirit  of  our  navigators,  vexing  every  sea,  and  the  flag  of  our 
commerce  waving  in  every  port  of  the  known  world;  with  our 
E.xploring  Expedition  at  the  expense  of  the  government,  and  our 
Arctic,  Expedition,  set  on  foot  by  private  munificence;  with  our 
Coast  Survey,  our  National  Observatory,  and  our  Smithsonian 
Fourth  Series,  Vol.  V. — 10 


250  Gcographicul  and  Statistical  Science.  [April, 

Institution ;  -svith  our  liundred  CollcL^es,  and  our  iNIilitary  and  Naval 
Academics,  and  our  hundred  F'jreii^n  ^Missionaries  ;  with  our  fifteen 
Quarterly  Reviews,  and  our  scores  of  Monthl}''  Magazines,  and  our 
thousand  newspapers,  it  is  only  within  tlic  present  year  that  the 
kindred  sciences  of  Geography  and  Statistics  have  a  National 
Society  and  a  Bulletin  to  promote  their  cultivation  and  extend  the 
knowledge  of  their  achievements. 

Geography  is  the  science  of  the  earth,  as  the  abode  of  man. 
Statistics  is  the  science  of  the  life  of  man  developed  upon  the  earth. 
Such  is  the  comprehensive  field  which  lies  before  the  new  Society. 
Whatever  inquiries  or  discussions,  whatever  new  information  or  new 
conclusions,  may  relate  to  these  subjects  or  come  within  these  limits — 
all  this  knoAvledgc  comes  fairly  within  its  scope,  and  may  increase 
the  interest  of  its  labours,  and  the  value  of  its  results,  and  the 
honour  of  its  future  career.  The  Roj'al  Geographical  Society  of 
London  is  one  of  the  most  distinguished  in  the  great  circle  of 
scientific  associations  which  enrich  and  adorn  that  great  metropolis. 
The  Geographical  Society  of  Paris  is  famous  for  the  variety  and 
the  value  of  its  publications.  The  Imperial  Geographical  Society 
of  St.  Petersburgh,  tlie  similar  societies  in  nearly  ever}'  European: 
capital,  the  Geographical  and  Statistical  Society  of  Mexico,  ought 
long  ago  to  have  aroused  the  savans  of  New- York  to  the  importance 
of  systematic  efforts  to  promote  sciences  so  interesting,  and  to  diffuse 
knowledge  so  necessary ;  but  as  it  may  be  never  too  late  to  do  well, 
we  wish  to  welcome  the  new  Society,  and  to  speak  a  word  of  en- 
couragement to  its  promoters.  The}'  have  a  noble  field  for  their 
labours ;  the  materials  already  available  are  ample,  and  there  are 
abundant  opportunities  to  extend  their  incjuirics,  to  gather  knowledge 
in  now  regions,  or  to  complete  the  survey's  of  what  is  already  partially 
known.  And  nothing  but  their  own  lack  of  diligence  or  persevernnce, 
of  intelligence  or  industry,  of  learning  or  sagacity,  can  prevent 
them  from  winning  their  Society  a  place  in  the  front  rank  among 
our  public  institutions.  Hitherto,  the  scientific  study  of  geography 
among  us  has  been  left-  in  a  great  degree  to  the  compilers  of  school- 
books,  and  that  of  statistics  to  the  almanac-makers.  We  trust  the 
new  Society  Avill  be  able  to  enlist  a  multitude  of  inquisitive  and 
cultivated  minds  in  the  cultivation  of  liranches  of  knowledge,  whose 
value,  we  regret  to  say,  is  still  but  imperfectly  appreciated  in  our 
country.  Indeed,  we  may  say  that  we  know  not  of  any  sciences, 
of  equal  interest  and  value,  which  have  been  so  little  cultivated 
among  us. 

Geography  is  the  science  of  the  homes  of  all  mankind;    and 
statistics  is  the  science  of  the  mode  and  moans  of  human  life,  and 


1853]  Geographical  and  Statisfical  Science.  251 

its  results.  The  cultivation  of  these  sciences  is  essential  to  the 
consummation  of  human  brothcvhoocl.  "We  meet  men  in  the  street 
and  in  the  market-place,  and  ve  kno^v  them  as  human  beings ;  but 
Ave  can  hardly  recognise  them  as  acquaintances,  or  esteem  them  as  _ 
friends,  unless  we  have  seen  them  at  home,  and  know  Avhere  and 
how  the^^  live— their  geography  and  statistics.  The  same  \s  true 
of  nations.  It  is  wonderful  to  consider  how  different  an  interest 
we  feel  in  the  case  of  those  nations  with  whose  country  and  habits 
we  are  tolerably  familiar,  as  England  or  France,  and  those  of  which 
we  know  but  very  little,  as  Japan  or  Madagascar. 

We  have  all  learned  something  of  googrnphy  in  our  school-days, 
but  we  find  in  after  life  that  this  knowledge  is  extremely  superficial. 
Let  any  country  become,  for  the  time,  as  nearly  every  known  countiy 
in  fact  becomes  in  its  turn  the  theatre  .,)f  important  events,  and  we 
soon  find  how  superficially  we  understaTid  the  details  of  its  geography. 
We  then  need  new  helps  to  make  our  knowledge  of  its  topography 
and  other  geographical  incidents  specific  and  available  for  the  under- 
standing of  passing  events. 

It  is  generally  supposed  that  the  period  of  geographical  discoveij 
is  past,  and  that  the  geography  of  the  world  is  all  settled.  But  this 
is  not  so.  There  are  large  portions  of  the  earth  that  are  yet  wholly 
unknown  and  unvisited  by  civilized  men.  as  the  interior  of  the 
continents  of  Africa  and  New-Holland ;  and  considerable  portions  of 
the  great  islands  of  the  East,  as  well  as  ji-.n-ts  of  both  Americas. 
HoA°many  important  discoveries  in  geography  have  been  made 
within  the  last  twenty  years?  And  wlio  sliall  solve  the  riddle  of 
the  Korth-West  Passage,  or  of  the  sources  of  the  Nile? 

But  without  dwelling  on  this  view,  there  is  yet  a  vast  work  for 
gco^rraphy  to  do,  in  making  our  acquaintance  wltii  countries  accurate 
and"  familiar.  Let  it  be  borne  in  mind  that  the  running  of  the 
boundary  line  between  the  ten-itories  of  the  United  States  and - 
Mexico  has  been  rendered  totally  impossible  by  a  blunder  in  the 
treaty,  based  on  a  blunder  in  what  was  s uj^posed  by  the  negotiators 
to  be  the  most  authentic  map  extant.  Ia-.u  our  own  Emi)ire  State 
has  never  been  surveyed,  or  measured,  or  mapped,  with  any  reliable 
accuracy.  A  topographical  map  of  New- York,  .grounded  on  a 
trigonometrical  survey  and  measurem<nt,  is  a  great  desideratum. 
We  may  venture  to  affirm  that  no  skill  or  study,  with  plots  and 
field-books,  would  suffice  to  lay  down  all  the  farms  in  the  State 
according  to  their  recorded  boundaries:  l>ut  the  titles  would  be 
found  to  overlap  here  and  there,  making  fat  jobs  for  the  lawyers 
in  carrying  forward  that  most  ruinous  species  of  litigation  which 
concerns  the  boundaries  of  estates.      A   thorough   survey  and  a 


252  Geographical  and  Statistical  Science.  [April, 

reliable  map  concerns  the  interest  of  every  landholder  in  the  State — 
saying  nothing  of  the  advantages  to  roads,  mill-sites,  and  all  public 
improvements,  or  the  minute  topographical  knovrlcdgc  Tvhich  might 
be  gathered  during  the  prosecution  of  such  a  survey.  The  Society 
before  us  will  well  justify  its  formation,  if  it  can  help  to  stir  up  the 
legislature  to  make  provision  for  the  commencement  of  this  survey. 
NcAY-York  owes  it  to  her  position  and  her  resources,  and  the  intel- 
hgencc  and  enterprise  of  licr  people,  to  take  measures  for  a  survey 
and  map  which  shall  surpass  in  accuracy  and  completeness  those 
of  any  other  state  or  country. 

Of  how  few  countries  do  the  materials  exist  for  a  full  description 
or  an  accurate  delineation !  The  list  of  places  is  by  no  means  large, 
of  which  the  latitude  and  longitude  has  been  ascertained  with  suf- 
ficient precision  for  the  higlior  purposes  of  astronomy.  Only  a  very 
small  part  of  the  earth's  surface  has  been  subjected  to  the  primar}* 
trigonometrical  survey.  To  explore  the  still  unknown,  and 'to 
complete  our  knowledge  of  the  partially  known,  presents  a  great 
work  to  be  done  before  the  world  can  even  be  mapped  with  reason- 
able accuracy. 

But  it  is  a  most  inadequate  conception  of  the  science  of  geography, 
to  limit  it  to  a  knowledge  of  the  surface  of  the  earth,  as  it  may  be 
explored  by  a  surveyor  and  delineated  on  a  map.  Geography,  in 
its  higher  sense,  takes  the  most  perfect  map  as  but  the  ground- 
plan,  on  which  it  con.=tructs  a  delineation  of  all  the  physical 
qualities  that  affect  the  comlition  of  mankind,  the  vegetable  and 
animal  growth,  the  races  and  characteristics  of  the  people,  and 
the  political  institutions  and  social  airangements  of  nations.  Its 
high  aim  is  the  improvement  of  man's  moral  nature,  by  enlarging 
his  knowledge  of  the  homes  and  lives  of  his  felloAv-mcn.  The  new 
Society  has  a  right  to  expect  the  countenance  and  favour  of  every 
friend  of  humanity  and  every  friend  of  science,  and  to  receive  the 
cooperation  of  all  those  classes  who  enjoy  special  opportunities 
of  observation,  or  possess  special  qualifications  for  generalization 
or  description. 

The  science  of  statistics  is  almost  unbroken  ground  among  the 
great  body  of  our  intelligent  citizens.  Look  among  the  legislatoi-s 
of  the  nation,  and  those  of  the  several  States,  and  see  how  few  there 
are  of  them  who  are  able  to  arrange  into  a  statistical  table  any  con- 
siderable number  of  the  facts  which  the}'  are  called  to  act  upon  in 
reg-Jird  to  a  given  subject,  or  to  judge  of  the  value  of  an  argument 
based  on  statistical  tables,  so  as  to  detect  the  latent  fallacy,  or  to 
feel  a  mathematical  certainty  in  the  conclusion.  Experienced  statists 
compare  all  quantities  and  numbers  by  ccntesimals ;    that  is,  the 


1853.3  Geographical  and  Statistical  Science.  253 

increase  or  decrease  is  so  much  per  cent.,  or  one  number  is  so  much 
per  cent,  of  another.  And  this  centesimal  pioportiou  comes  by  use 
to  convey  as  definite  ideas  as  are  derived  by  a  statement  and  com- 
parison in  the  ordinary  weights  or  measures,  by  pounds,  yards,  or 
gallons.  Instead  of  saying  that  48  is  four-lirths  of  60,  the  statist 
says  it  is  80  per  cent.  If  you  add  9  to  45,  making  54,  it  is  an 
increase  of  20  per  cent.;  but  if  you  take  0  from  54,  leaving  45, 
it  is  a  decrease  of  16. G  per  cent.  That  is,  you  divide  the  difference, 
decimal-vrise,  by  the  number  Avhich  you  reckon  fro7n.  An  increase 
of  100  per  cent,  makes  the  number  double  ;  Avhile  a  decrease  of  100 
per  cent,  takes  away  the  whole.  Yet  we  have  seen  well-educated 
men  puzzled  inextricably  in  making  the  simplest  calculations,  and 
never  knowing  certainly  whether  their  results  are  reliable  or  not. 
Again,  we  see  numbers  or  quantities  compared  in  this  way — the 
two  are  in  the  proportion  of  217  to  4i^,  which  leaves  a  very  in- 
distinct idea,  when  you  get  a  much  clearer  impression  by  sayin-? 
that  one  is  44  per  cent,  of  the  other. 

The  crudities  and  inacciu-acies  of  the  Lhiitcd  States  census  of 
1840  have  long  been  a  source  of  mortification  to  scholars,  and  of 
mistakes  to  politicians  and  legislators.  For  instance,  the  footings 
of  the  census  presented  a  monstrous  di.-])roportion  of  idiots  and 
insane  persons  among  the  free  coloured  population  of  the  northern 
States;  and  some  pathetic  conclusions  Avcrc  drawn  therefrom  in 
regard  to  the  deplorable  condition  of  those  people,  with  profound 
disquisitions  concerning  the  causes  of  so  sad  calamities.  The  im- 
portance of  the  results  led  some  gentlemen  to  reexamine  the  data; 
and,  on  tracing  the  population  tables  back  to  their  elements,  it  was 
found  that  the  whole  apparent  excess  was  caused  by  the  blunders  of 
clerks  in  transferring  figures  to  the  wrong  columns,  by  which  it 
was  made  to  appear  that  in  some  instances  tlicre  were  more  blacks 
insane  and  idiotic  than  the  whole  number  in  the  section.  And  yet 
we  have  seen,  within  a  year  or  two,  respectable  journals  and  peri- 
odicals reproducing  the  same  awful  statistics  and  reaflirming  the 
same  sad  conclusions,  just  as  if  the  blunders  had  never  been  ex- 
posed. 

Although  it  must  be  admitted  that  considerable  advancement 
has  been  made,  during  the  intervening  ton  years,  in  the  cultivation 
of  statistical  knowledge,  it  is  plain  that  tlu^  present  condition  of 
the  census  of  1850  affords  us  nothing  to  boast  of.  It  is  not  our 
province  to  decide  where  the  blame  or  di.-^credit  ought  to  rest;  but 
the  fact  that,  after  the  lapse  of  two  years  and  a  half,  and  the  ex- 
penditure of  vast  sums  of  money,  the  public  can  only  obtain  a  few 
of  the  alleged  general  results,  without  any  knowledge  of.  the  data 


254  Geograpliical  and  Statistical  Science.  [April, 

on  which  they  arc  based,  proves  that  there  must  be  either  great 
neglect  or  gross  incompetency  somewhere.  One  thing  is  very  plain 
to  our  judgment,  to  "wit,  that  the  general  government,  in  under- 
taking to  procure  complete  statistical  returns,  has  attempted  more 
than  its  machinery  is  fitted  to  accomplish.  Hereafter  we  hope  that 
Congress  -will  confine  its  inquiries  to  the  census  of  population, 
leaving  the  statistics  of  industr}'  and  property  to  the  care  of  the 
State  legislatures,  Avhose  functions  better  admit  of  these  minute 
inquisitions.  If  the  labours  of  the  new  Society  shall  be  successful 
in  extending  a  love  for  statistical  inquiries,  b}'  setting  examples  of 
their  usefulness,  and  furnishing  materials  for  the  prosecution  of  such 
studies,  it  will  render  a  good  service  in  promoting  the  diffusion  of 
useful  knowledge. 

Too  long  have  we  been  contented  with  general  impressions,  that 
this  or  that  thing  is  a  great  deal  bigger  than  another,  and  that  events 
of  one  class  are  more  frequent  than  others.  Let  us  learn  to  know 
what  we  know ;  so  that  we  can  answer  the  questions,  how  many?  how- 
much"?  how  long?  how  far?  how  often?  and  make  an  exact  compari- 
son of  causes  and  results,  in  regard  to  all  the  modes  and  means  of 
human  life  and  action. 

A  scholar  of  the  last  age  called  '"geography  and  chronology  the 
two  eyes  of  history;"  but  we  submit  that,  for  the  philosophical 
study  of  history,  for  the  comparison  of  events,  their  causes  and 
consequences,  the  help  of  chronology  is  for  inferior  in  value  to  that 
of  statistics.  The  mere  time  when  an  event  took  place  is  of  much 
less_  moment  than  the  number  and  resources  of  the  people  among 
Avhom  it  occurred,  and  the  position  and  extent  of  the  theatre  on  which 
they  acted.  Take,  for  instance,  the  history  of  the  middle  ages ;  and 
how  much  light  is  thrown  upon  it  by  a  clear  idea  of  political  geo- 
graphy and  its  changes  in  those  times.  And  what  a  vast  interest 
is  added  to  the  study  of  physical  geography  by  the  lectures  of 
Professor  Guyot,  in  comparing  and  classifying  the  physical  structure 
of  countries,  and  thus  accounting  for  the  characters  and  destinies 
of  the  people  who  inhabit  them. 

In  a  word,  we  fully  endorse  the  seasonableness  of  this  new  move- 
ment, at  least  so  far  as  to  say  that  it  is  high  time  it  was  made,  and 
it  is  a  wonder  it  had  not  been  made  before.  Looking  at  the  list  of 
managers,  with  our  national  historian,  George  Bancroft,  at  their 
head,  wc  are  sure  they  do  not  lack  either  competency  or  fidelity  for 
the  discharge  of  their  duties.  We  hope  the}'  will  succeed,  through 
the  resident  foreign  consuls  among  us,  in  sreuring  for  their  library 
the  most  important  geographical  and  statistical  documents  of  other 
governments;    and,   through  the  proper  ofilcers  at  home,  all  the 


1853.]  Geographical  and  Statistical  Science.  ;255 

important  publications  of  our  o-nn  National  and  State  governments. 
We  hope  they  will  receive  the  ready  cooperation  of  our  literary 
men,  travellers,  and  foreign  missionaries,  in  making  the  Society  the 
medium  of  publication  of  their  new  discoveries,  their  important 
information,  their  expanded  commercial,  philanthropic,  or  scientific 
views,  on  subjects  german  to  the  objects  of  the  Society,  W^e  hope 
they  will  receive,  when  they  need  it,  a  liberal  patronage  from  the 
merchant-princes  of  the  land,  in  the  means  of  procuring  all  such 
maps,  globes,  books  of  reference,  and  other  apparatus  of  investiga- 
tion and  illustration,  as  may  be  needful  to  secure  the  highest  efficiency 
of  their  labours. 

The  first  number  of  the  Society's  Bulletin,  now  before  us,  is  well 
arranged  and  handsomely  printed,  well  filled,  and  affords  a  fair 
pledge  of  future  success.  We  are  struck  with  the  evidence  it  affords 
of  the  prospective  value  of  the  Society's  labours  in  promoting  both 
the  commercial  interests  of  the  country  and  the  general  advance- 
ment of  humanity  and  religion.  The  article  of  Mr.  Hopkins  on 
Paraguay,  delivered  in  this  cit}''  last  Januar}',  before  the  fall  of  the 
tyrant  Rosas  was  known  in  this  country,  was  largely  prophetic  of 
results  and  developments  in  regard  to  tlic  opening  of  that  river  to 
foreign  commerce,  which  arc  now  history.  The  second  Bulletin  is 
to  be  made  up  of  the  elaborate  and  truly  valuable  Memoir  on  the  Geo- 
gi-aph}^  and  Statistics  of  tlie  Republic  of  New-Granada,  presented  to 
the  Society  by  General  Mosquera,  the  distinguished  ex-president  of 
that  country.  In  listening,  for  three  successive  meetings,  to  that 
important  paper,  we  could  hardly  tell  wliich  impressed  us  most: 
the  ability  and  value  of  the  production  itself,  as  a  contribution  to 
the  objects  of  the  Society;  or  the  extraordinary  fact  that  a  man 
of  arms,  whose  best  years  had  been  spent  in  the  military  service  of 
his  country,  should  have  found  time  to  collect  such  a  store  of  knowl- 
edge, so  scientifically  digested,  in  regard  to  every  branch  of  his 
subject;  or  the  spectacle  of  the  ex-president  of  a  neighbouring 
Spanish  republic  labouring  with  so  pure  and  wise  a  patriotism  to 
advance  the  best  interests  of  his  own  country,  by  drawing  to  it 
new  and  multiplied  sympathies  from  ours. 

We  earnestly  bid  the  Society  Godspeed  on  its  course.  Science 
is  of  no  nation,  of  no  sect,  of  no  party.  The  welfare  of  all  peoples 
is  advanced  by  their  knowing  each  other  more  perfectly.  Let  our 
friends  be  encouraged  to  lay  their  plans  on  a  large  scale,  as  building 
for  mankind  and  for  future  asics. 


256  M'Culloh  on  the  Scriptures.  [April, 


Art.  v.— M'CULLOII  ON  THE  SCRIPTURES. 

Anaiytical  Investigations  concerning  the  Credibility  of  the  Scriptures,  and  of  the 
Religious  System  inculcated  in  them:  together  icith  a  Historical  Exhibition  of 
Human  Conduct  during  the  several  dispensations  uyider  ichich  mankind  have  been 
placed  by  their  Creator.    By  J.  II.  M'Cixlloh,  M.  D.  2  vols.,  Svo.    Baltimore,  1852. 

Since  the  clays  of  our  Lord's  personal  ministry,  his  disciples  have 
altered  the  shibboleth  of  Christianity.  The  test  question  is  not  now, 
"  Simon  Peter,  lovest  thoit  me  V  but,  "  Si?non  Peter,  tJnnkest  thou 
as  I  do  ?"  Unless  the  ans'ivcr  be  clearly  and  decidedly  affirmative, 
there  is  but  cold  -welcome  to  the  Master's  vineyard — no  excellence 
of  piety  is  a  sufficient  offset  to  variant  opinions,  even  about  things 
the  most  abstruse  and  difficult  of  determination.  iSio  superiority  of 
understanding  compensates,  in  its  admirable  conclusions,  for  unlawful 
speculations  upon  subjects  concerning  which  men  have  done  little 
else  than  speculate  from  the  beginnings  of  thought.  "  Venerable 
Bede,"  says  John  jNcv^ion,  "after  giving  a  high  character  of  some 
contemporary,  adds,  '  But,  vnhapptj  man,  he  did  not  keep  Easter 
our  ivay.^  " 

Dr.  M'Culloh  must  expect  similar  treatment  to  that  which  has 
ever  been  meted  out  to  men  of  his  kind.  None  Avho  read  his  book 
can  doubt  his  piety,  or  his  honest,  earnest  purpose  to  accomplish 
what  he  conscientiously  behoves  to  be  the  work  which  is  given  him 
to  do.  The  book  displays  upon  every  page  the  single-mindedness 
of  a  Chi-istian  man,  devoting  uncommon  intellectual  powers  to  the 
attainment  and  dissemination  of  the  truth.  Yet  the  results  of  his 
investigations,  as  he  has  determined  them,  as  a  whole,  are  not  in 
full  accordance  with  the  entire  views  of  any  one  of  the  many  Clu-is- 
tian  denominations,  and  consequently,  whatever  these  may  think  of 
one  another,  they  all  will  agree  that  our  author  is  a  heretic ;  for  to  be 
a  heretic,  is  but  to  differ  from  themselves.  It  may  be  expected  that 
clergymen,  regularly  trained  in  schools  of  divinity,  will  supercil- 
iously glance  over  the  index,  and  pronounce  the  presumptuous  lay- 
man a  dangerous  intermcddler  with  theological  science;  and  that 
many  good  people,  responding  to  the  pastoral  warning,  will  cry 
out  "  Simon  Magus  "  as  lustily  as  though  they  could  comprehend 
the  matter,  or  could  of  their  ovrn  knowledge  give  a  consistent  state- 
ment of  the  plan  of  salvation,  or  any  valid  reason  for  their  faith  in 
the  Scriptures. 

To  say  the  truth,  the  atithor  of  this  work  has  given  mortal  offence 


1853.]  M'Cidloh  on  the  Scriptures,  257 

to  a  host  of  stalwart  antagonists,  iu  whom  the  odium  theologicum 
is  far  from  being  impaired  by  time,  or  tempered  by  the  vamited 
liberality  of  the  age.  The  Papists  will  curse  him  by  their  gods 
for  his  masterly  exposm'C  of  the  rottenness  ■whicli  underlies  all  the 
gilding  and  varnish  of  a  thousand  years  of  decoration.  Episcopalians 
will  pour  upon  him  whatever  of  bitterness  frequent  discharges  may 
have  left  in  their  capacious  receptacles  of  gall ;  for  no  man  has  so 
pitilessly  and  effectually  swung  the  axe  to  the  root  of  hierarchical 
pretensions,  or  so  complacently  torn  away  the  antique  silver  veil 
from  the  face  of  the  ecclesiastical  I^Iokanna,  so  long  venerated  as 
Holy  Catholic  Church.  Calvinists  will  never  forgive  his  assaults 
upon  their  fundamental  and  precious  dogma  of  damning 'original 
sin,  nor  Arminians  forget  his  impatience  of  preventing  grace. 
Trinitarians  will  be  shy  of  the  companionshi])  of  the  unruly  spirit 
that  declines  the  use  of  their  favourite  phrase,  and  Unitarians  will 
curl  the  lip  in  scorn  at  his  fervent  faith  in  the  redemption  through 
the  blood  of  Jesus.  Each  will  fear  to  commend  what  he  approves, 
lest  he  be  suspected  of  allowing  what  ho  condemns ;  and  all  will  be 
satisfied  to  sacrifice  the  good  which  is  common  to  others,  if  thc}^ 
may  prevent  the  evil  special  to  themselves.  A  book  must  have  a 
more  than  feline  vitality  to  maintain  its  existence  vd:en  its  enemies 
ai-e  all  eager  to  destroy,  and  its  friends  all  afraid  to  deliver. 

We  are  I\Iethodists.  After  all  our  reading  and  hearing  and 
thinking,  we  have  found  no  form  of  doctrine  more  acceptable  to  our 
understanding  than  that  delivered  to  us  by  John  Wesley.  Not  that 
we  suppose  him  to  have  found  a  solvent  for  all  previous  insolubles, 
and  crystallized  out  of  his  solution  a  pure  and  determinate  truth, 
accurate  in  all  its  angles  and  smooth  upon  all  its  facets.  Himself 
has  taught  us  better.  The  boldest  and  siucerest  of  evangelical 
eclectics,  he  followed  truth,  without  regard  to  the  beaten  paths  of 
orthodoxy ;  and  died  at  last  far  in  advance  of  his  creed,  striving  in 
vain  to  stretch  the  elastic  symbols  of  the  Church  of  England 
over  the  ground  he  had  won  from  error  and  superstition.  The 
temper  of  his  mind  may  be  infeiTcd  from  a  single  golden  precept, 
•which  should  be  treasured  in  the  memory  of  ever}^  thinking  man : — 
"Although  every  man  necessarily  believes  that  every  particular 
opinion  which  he  holds  is  true,  (f:)r  to  believe  any  opinion  is  not  true 
is  the  same  thing  as  not  to  hold  it,)  yet  can  no  man  be  assured 
that  all  his  own  opinions,  taken  together,  are  true.  Nay,  every  think- 
ing man  is  assured  they  are  not,  seeing,  lannanum  est  crrare  et 
nescire,  to  be  ignorant  of  many  things  and  to  mistake  in  some  is 
the  necessary  condition  of  humanity.  This,  therefore,  he  is  sensible 
is  his  own  case.     He  knows,  in  general,  that  he  himself  is  mistaken, 


258  M'Culloh  on  the  Scriptures.  [April, 

although  in  -what  particulars  he  mistakes  he  does  not,  perhaps 
he  cannot,  kuoTV." 

If  such  be  the  case,  (and  who  can  doubt  it,  except  the  presumptuous 
man  who,  by  doubting,  proves  himself  a  subject  of  the  rule  ?)  why  should 
we  form  for  ourselves  a  cast-iron  theology,  in  Avhich  we  must  lie 
without  the  least  liberty  of  motion,  however  pressed  by  its  narrow- 
ness and  galled  by  its  inequalities?  and  why  should  we  furiously 
resist  the  approaches  of  those  who,  whether  able  to  do  so  or  not, 
propose  to  make  our  bed  more  tolerable?  God  forbid  that  we 
should  suppose  it  possible  for  us  to  be  mistaken  as  to  what  He 
requires  of  men  in  order  to  their  salvation,  or  that  we  should  extend 
the  hand  of  Christian  fellowship  to  any  one  who  may  presume  to 
teach  things  contrary  to  the  positive  declarations  of  Jehovah! 
There  are  precious  doctrines  too  clearly  revealed,  and  too  essential 
to  saving  action,  to  be  regarded  as  proper  subjects  for  investigation. 
They  are  not  opinions,  more  than  the  laws  written  upon  tables  of 
stone  by  the  finger  of  God  were  the  opinions  of  Moses  and  the  Jews. 
They  are  elementary,  essential  truths,  forever  separated  from  the 
domain  of  opinion,  and  authoritatively  declared  by  the  Almighty. 
God's  word  is  ultimate  truth.  As  with  the  diamond,  to  analyze  is 
to  decompose  and  destroy  it. 

Eut  connected  with  these  few  absolute  teachings  are  many  infer- 
ences and  extended  applications  and  conjectural  speculations  and 
philosophical  explications  more  or  less  important,  but  the  notions 
of  which  need  not  interfere  between  a  man  and  his  God — may  not 
impede  repentance,  nor  faith,  n^r  holiness.  About  these  we  hold 
opinions,  but  we  hold  them  modestly,  under  the  advice  of  Mr.  Wesley, 
that  "as  a  whole  they  must  be  incomplete  and  eiToneous;" — we 
hold  them  subject  to  instruction.  We  will  reason  about  them, 
not  quarrel  for  them.  We  are  glad  to  compare  them  with  the 
opinions  of  others,  to  correct  them  if  we  can,  to  make  them  a  means 
of  correction  if  we  may,  keeping  always  in  view  as  a  corrective  to 
intemperate  zeal  another  saying  of  Mr.  Wesley:  "  \\\t\\o\xt  holiness 
no  man  shall  sec  the  Lord ;  but  I  dare  not  add,  without  clear  ideas' 

Unfortunately  it  is  precisely  of  these  opinions  that  we  are  apt  to 
be  most  tenacious,  valuing  them  in  proportion  to  the  difficulty  we 
have  in  defending  and  retaining  them.  It  was  so  with  the  Jews  of 
old,  and  there  was  a  great  deal  of  human  nature  in  the  Jews.  They 
are  an  example  to  us,  not  as  the  children  of  Abraham,  but  as  the 
children  of  Adam.  The  generation  is  far  from  being  extinct  of 
those  who  tithe  mint  and  anise  and  neglect  the  weightier  matters  of 
the  law,  or  whose  system  of  theology  makes  the  less  certain  the 
greater — the  philosophy  of  man  to  comprehend  and  enclose  the 


1853.]  JWCulloh  on  the  Scriptures.  259 

religion  of  God.  "While  we  trust  tliat  -we  are  as  far  from  latitudi- 
narianisni  as  wc  pray  God  to  keep  us  from  bigotry,  ■vve  feel  that  every 
man  Avho  loves  the  Lord  -with  sincerity  is  our  blood  kin  in  Christ 
Jesus,  and  wc  will  not  deal  harshly  here  with  'those  with  whom  we 
hope  to  dwell  happily  hereafter.  In  such  spirit  we  now  proceed, 
as  space  will  permit,  to  examine  the  work  before  us.  The  author's 
good  temper  sliall  be  an  example  for  our  own,  and  his  honesty  will 
demand  no  apology  for  ours. 

The  first  part  of  the  work  consists  of  an  elaborate  disquisition 
upon  the  fundamental  subject  in  all  Christian  Theology,  the 
credibility  of  the  Scripture  writers.  Probably  many  will  sup- 
pose this  essay  supererogatory.  The  divine  authority  of  the 
Holy  Books  is  now  seldom  openly  attacked.  By  tacit  consent 
the  great  multitude  of  people,  learned  and  unlearned,  who  speak 
the  Enghsh  language,  seem  to  have  come  to  the  conclusion  that 
the  Scriptures  are  true,  and  on  the  part  of  those  whose  feel- 
ings or  olEces  cause  them  to  Avatcli  over  the  orthodoxy  of  the 
multitude  there  is  frequently  considerable  impatience  of  any  dis- 
cussion which  may  impel  them  to  examine  the  grounds  of  their  faith. 
Nor  can  it  be  concealed  that  this  indisposition  to  excite  the  public 
mind  to  such  examination  is  founded  upon  a  correct  knowledge  of 
the  baseless  fabric  of  that  faith  which  is  almost  universally  a  mere 
passive  assent  to  the  dogmas  of  tradition — in  very  few  cases  a  rational 
conviction  of  the  truth.  "Why,  it  is  asked,  shall  we  disturb  the 
happy  simplicity  of  that  reliance  Avhich  answers  all  the  practical 
purposes  of  belief,  and  engender  suspicion  in  order  to  beget  faith? 
If  people  are  satisfied  that  the  Scriptures  are  true,  what  matters  it 
whether  the  grounds  of  their  satisfaction  are  well  chosen  or  tenable  ? 

The  spirit  which  dictates  these  and  similar  expressions  is  one  of 
fearful  ignorance  of  the  real  condition  of  the  public  mind  upon  this 
all-important  matter.  There  is  a  wide  diflerencc  in  the  practical 
activity  of  a  truth  passively  acquiesced  in,  and  one  attained  by  a 
process  of  inquiry  and  reflection.  The  hold  of  the  former  upon  the 
understanding  and  the  heart  is  feeble  and  fitful  compared  with  the 
tenure  of  that  which  is  valued  as  the  result  of  toil,  the  achievement 
of  the  understanding,  the  happy  settlement  of  vexed  questions  whose 
agitation  has  roused  every  faculty  of  the  mind,  and  stirred  every 
feeling  of  the  heart.  The  great  multitude,  who  assent  to  the  authority 
of  Scripture  because  they  know  no  reason  to  the  contrary,  remain, 
as  we  gee  every  day,  to  a  most  lamentable  extent  uninfluenced  by 
its  teachings,  utterly  heedless  of  its  solemn  declarations.  But  when 
did  a  man  become  a  Christian  from  investigation  of  the  claims  of 
Cln-istianity  without  bowing  his  mind  and  soul  to  its  authority? 


260 


ArCuUoh  on  the  Scriptures.  [April, 


Under  the  uniform  appearance  of  assent  there  is  in  reality  much 
doubt  and  perplexity,  and  that,  too,  in  the  minds  of  truly  pious  men 
and  women.  Some  persons  must  think ;  it  is  a  law  of  their  intel- 
lectual nature,  and  they  cannot  always  stifle  a  doubt  in  ejaculatory 
prayer,  or  avoid  inquiry  by  fleeing  it  as  temptation.  Their  minds 
are  a  continual  battle-ground  for  the  maintenance  of  the  fundamental 
principles  upon  ■\rhich  they  are  labouring  to  build  a  secure  super- 
stracture.  Like  the  Jews  of  old,  they  are  compelled  to  toil  at  the 
walls  of  Jerusalem  with  a  weapon  in  one  hand  and  a  tool  in  the  other. 
Again,  to  what  but  this  defect  of  intelligent  faith  among  the  people 
can  we  attribute  the  amazing  facility  with  which  even  the  pious  are 
deluded  by  the  absurd  religions  and  clumsy  trickeries  which  seem, 
from  time  to  time,  to  be  thrown  out  upon  the  earth  by  the  Ai'ch- 
mocker,  as  satanic  comments  upon  the  sagacity  and  piety  of  the  age? 
How  is  it  that  the  apostles  of  ]Mormonism  and  Swedenborg  and 
Mesmer,  and  even  the  mountebanks  who  call  themselves  spiritual 
rappers,  are  so  frequently  successful  over  the  faith  of  Christians? 
Simply,  because  that  faith  had  no  root  in  the  mind.  It  had  merely 
been  placed  upon  the  understanding — it  had  never  penetrated  it. 

AYe  consider  this  part  of  the  work  before  us  as  well  timed,  and 
certainly  it  is  very  ably  executed.  The  author  has  fully  vindicated 
the  sagacity  of  a  late  British  ^\Titcr,  who  declared  that  no  satisfactory- 
work  upon  this  subject  could  be  written,  except  in  the  United  States. 
He  argues  the  credibility  of  the  Scriptures  upon  the  only  sure 
principles,  and  we  cannot  anticipate  that  any  honest  man  will  read 
this  argument  and  refuse  to  acknowledge  the  logical  distinctions  of 
the  author.  \Vc  only  regret  that  the  bulk  of  the  work  and  the 
distasteful  speculations  it  contains  will  always  prevent  its  being 
read  by  tlie  many  to  whom  it  would  prove  an  intelligible  and  satis- 
factory argument. 

The  author  commences  by  showing  what  the  Scriptures  profess 
to  be,  and  what  is  the  theory  upon  which  they  have  been  constructed. 
He  contends  that  no  investigation  concerning  their  truth  or  falsehood 
can  be  rationally  undertaken  but  by  discussing  them  according  to 
their  own  theory.  The  importance  of  this  position  is  briefly  shoAvu 
by  the  absurd  reasoning  of  Atheists  and  Deists,  who  have  condemned 
the  Scriptures  upon  abstract  considerations,  founded  upon  the  sup- 
position that  the  revelations  made  in  them  are  contrary  to  the  moral 
perfections  and  omnipotence  of  God. 

Om-  author  finds,  in  the  simple  circumstance  that  God  has  placed 
man  in  a  probationary  state,  a  satisfactory  solution  of  the  difliculties 
which  philosophers  and  theologians  have  found  in  the  application 
of  God's  nature  to  his  government  of  mankind.     Furnished  with 


1853.]  iWCulloh  on  the  Scriptures.  261 

this  probationary  key,  Dr.  M'CuUoh  thiuks  we  may  unlock  all 
those  fetters  of  the  understanding,  -which,  under  the  name  of  original 
evil,  God's  foreknowledge  and  permissive  providence,  have  so  long 
galled  the  restless  minds  of  men,  all  the  perplexity  upon  these  sub- 
jects being  due  to  defective  comprehension  of  the  nature  and  neces- 
sities of  a  probationary  state.  Upon  this  theory  the  Scriptures 
must  be  examined.  Upon  this  they  may  fairly  be  interrogated,  and 
upon  this  their  replies  are  always  triumphantly  consistent.  If  man 
.  be  in  a  state  of  probation,  it  is  evident  that  all  the  phenomena  ex- 
hibited in  the  physical,  moral,  intellectual,  and  social  condition  of 
mankind  must  be  harmonious  with  such  a  probation.  Even  the 
position  of  the  Deity  towards  the  human  race  must  be  ascertained 
in  view  of  this  fundamental  fact;  for  it  is  plain  that  if  God 
should  exercise  the  abstract  excellencies  of  his  perfection  and 
providence  towards  them,  they  could  by  no  possibility  exert  a  free 
agencv,  and  the  conditions  of  the  probationary  state  could  not  be 
fulfdlcd. 

To  correct  what  he  considers  a  common  mistake  in  the  theory  of 
probation,  our  author  endeavours  to  show  that  this  condition  of  man 
must  not  be  regarded  as  at  all  operative  upon  the  mind  of  the  Deity. 
In  the  Doctor's  view  it  amounts  to  nothing  more  than  the  simple  fact, 
that,  instead  of  making  men  perfect  at  once,  God,  for  an  ulterior 
purpose,  has  so  constituted  them,  as  intellectual  and  moral  free 
agents,  that  he  has  left  them  to  act  as  they  may  choose;  at  the  same 
time  announcing  to  them  that  those  who  will  perfect  themselves  in 
righteousness,  through  the  divine  assistance  freely  offered  to  all, 
shall  be  made  inheritors  of  an  everlasling  kingdom  of  righteousness 
and  peace,  while  those  who  will  not  thus  pre]);iro  themselves  shall 
be  cut  off  with  an  everlasting  destruction.  That  mankind  are  free 
agents  in  the  fullest  sense,  our  autlior  thinks  to  be  involved  in  the 
fact  that  God  has  proposed  a  reward  for  the  righteous,  and  declared 
a  con-esponding  condemnation  upon  the  wicked.  In  pursuing  this 
subject  he  comes  suddenly  upon  the  Calviuists,  whose  theological 
see-saw  he  unceremoniously  upsets,  claiming  them  as  actual  believers 
in  free  agency  Avhatever  inconsistency  there  may  be  between  their 
belief  and  their  creed. 

In  connexion  with  this  subject  wc  find  in  the  appendix  an  ad- 
mirable article  on  the  Kature  of  Motives,  to  which  we  would  call  the 
particular  attention  of  those  of  our  readers  whose  minds  may  have 
been  perplexed  by  the  subtiltics  of  theologians  upon  this  subject. 
We  are  free  to  confess  that  we  have  no  disposition  to  pursue  the 
study  of  truth  beyond  the  limits  of  phenomenal  exhibition.  Of 
the  possibility  of  a  science  of  essences   we   are  utter  sceptics, 


262'  J\rCulioh  on  the  Scriptures.  [April, 

and  therefore  are  never  troubled  to  explain  the  ultimate  modes  of 
intellectual  and  spiritual  life.  Following  up  the  phenomena  of  moral 
action,  >yc  arrive  at  a  point  -svhere  we  must  recognise  an  independent 
governing  principle,  an  elementary  -will,  not  compounded  of  moral 
conditions,  nor  merely  representing  the  intellectual  circumstances 
of  the  man.  This  will  is  plainly  recognised  by  the  Almighty,  and 
beyond  it  and  above  it  He  recognises  nothing.  The  ingenious 
arguments  against  this  independence  of  will  are  to  us  mere 
sophistries.  Dr.  jM'Culloh  has  done  good  service  by  exposing  the- 
fallacy  of  the  iS'ecessitarians  upon  the  subject  of  motives.  AVe 
extract  a  few  paragrnphs  of  his  article  upon  this  subject : — 

"  But  here  I  shall  be  told,  by  tlie  advocates  ot'  tlic  doctrine  of  necessity,  that 
the  will  lias  uo  such  liberty,  ■vvlietlier  in  choosing  its  animal  or  intelioctual 
gratifications;  but  that  -we  are  impelled  by  motives  to  take  a  particular  course, 
■v\'hich  is  always  determined  by  the  slronfjc^l  motive,  not  by  any  free  will  or 
choice  of  our  own. 

"  Now,  however  plausible  this  araument  may  seem,  there  cannot  be  the  least 
difficulty  iu  showing  that  it  is  a  simple  sojihism,  whose  force  consists  in  the 
equivocal  meaning  given  to  the  term,  strongest  mot've.  Does  it  imply  the 
wisest,  the  most  prudent,  most  judicious,  or  most  conscientious  inducement  for 
action  ?  It  does  not  imjily  any  such  meaning.  The  strongest  laotlce  of  the 
Necessitarians  implies  that  it  is  the  prccailing  motici ,  no  matter  whether  it  be 
good  or  bad,  wise  or  f;)olish,  beneficial  or  injurions.  Since  men  are,  undeniably, 
iniiuenced  by  motives  to  act  in  some  manner  or  other,  so  it  does  not  signity 
what  the.  character  of  the  motive  may  be,  that  motive  the  Xecessitarians  assert 
is  the  strongest.  But  why  strongest  V  Because  it  prevails.  Strongest  motive, 
then,  is  clearly  synonymous  with  prevniling  moiire. 

"  The  use  of  the,  word  s'rongr.ft  ,'s.  then,  a  begging  of  the  questic^n,  and  its 
force,  as  an  argument  with  the  Xecr-<itarians  against  tlie  doctrine  of  free  agency, 
lies  iu  the  equivocation  of  inqilynig  precailing.  As  every  action  of  man  is 
induced  by  some  motive  or  otluT,  so  some  motive  or  other  must  prevail  over 
other  motives.  This  we  all  admit  mn>t  be  the  case.  The  advocates  of  hberty 
insist  the  motive  prevails  according  to  llie  intelligent  estimation  we  make  on  the 
subject,  whether  as  a  matter  of  gralitication,  advantage,  or  duty.  The  advocates 
of  necessity  say  the  motive  pre\ai!s  becaux'  it  is  the  strongest.  Now  if  they 
will  define  slronge^'t  to  implv  any  oth(>r  meaning  than  prevailing,  it  can  be 
proved  against  them  on  all  sides  that  men  do  not  Ibllow  the  strongest  motive; 
and  if  they  merely  give  it  the  siunifuance  o(  jinrai/ing,  then  their  argument 
amounts  to  this,  that  a  man  will  Ibllow  >vliatcvcr  hi'  will  follow — that  he  "will  do 
whatever  he  will  do;  which  is  a  conclusion  that  no  one  can  deny,  but  which 
it  would  be  absurd  in  the  last  degree  to  consider  as  justifying  the  doctrine  of 
necessity. 

"But  we  have  a  further  objection  to  urge  again>t  this  doctrine  of  the 
Xecessitarians  as  respects  the  sisinification  to  be  attached  to  the  term  motive, 
for  their  assumption  as  to  its  meaning  is  a  palpalilc  petiiio  pri>7cipii  that  covers 
the  whole  ground  of  coutro\ersy.  ThiLs  the  celebrated  Jonathan  Edwards, 
the  most  reno\\ned  advocale  of  the  doctrine,  says,  in  his  'Discourse  on  the 
Will,'  that  he  means  by  the  term  motir,;  'the  whole  of  that  which  moves, 
excites,  or  invites  the  mind  to  volition,  whether  tliat  be  one  thiufr  singly  or 
many  things  conjointly.'  The  definition  constitutes  the  radicid  t'allacy  of  his 
whole  work,  tor  he  uses  the  term  as  coin])rchcn(!ing  a  variety  of  particulars 
that  are  not  motives  at  all,  as  we  now  proceed  to  show." 


1853.]  AVCulloh  on  the  Scriptures.  263 

We  would  gladly  cpiote,  for  the  gratification  of  our  readers,  the 
admirable  argument  which  follows ;  but  our  limits  will  not  permit  us 
to  do  so.  The  exposition  of  the  subject  by  Dr.  ^M'Culloh  is  plain, 
logical,  and  satisfactory.  He  shows  conclusively  that  human  liberty 
is  not  the  liberty  of  the  slave, — 

"Trusted  -ftitli  a  muzzle,  and  eufranclii.sod  Tiith  ti  clog," — 

but  a  bona  fide  freedom,  independent  and  responsible. 

The  probationary  theory  of  the  Scriptures  being  established,  our 
author  proceeds  to  inquire  whether  they  arc  a  revelation  from 
Jehovah,  or  a  fraudulent  imposition  upon  mankind.  Preparatory 
to  this  investigation,  he  exhibits  the  necessity  of  understand- 
ing the  value  or  truth  of  tlie  princi])les  by  which  it  is  to  be 
conducted.  He  utterly  denies  the  propriety  of  the  common  as- 
sumptions upon  which  the  origin  and  authority  of  the  Holy  Scrip- 
tures have  hitherto  been  tested.  Of  these  the  most  prominent 
is  the  postulate  of  the  Deists,  that  God  is  absolutely  excellent  and 
perfect  in  certain  attributes.  To  sufier  them  to  assume  this  is  to 
permit  them  to  use  the  fundamental  truths  of  revelation  as  truths, 
while  with  them  they  assail  the  very  revolution  upon  whose  validity 
they  rest.  For  whether  God  exists  in  such  perfections  is  exclusively 
a  Scriptural  dogma.  It  never  has  been  and  never  can  be  ascertained 
by  inspection  of  the  external  world,  or  ol>servation  of  God's  moral 
government.  Whether  God  exists  in  sueh  moral  perfections  and 
omnipotent  power  is  a  question  whicli  depends  for  answer  upon  the 
previous  one  of  the  credibility  of  the  Scriptures,  and  cannot,  there- 
fore, be  assumed  by  either  party  to  the  present  controversy.  If  the 
Deists  need  this  basis  for  an  argument  aguinst  revelation  they  must 
find  it  outside  of  revelation.  Tiie  question  is  between  the  God  of 
nature  and  the  God  of  the  Bible.  Let  Deists  array  tlicir  God  in  his 
own  ascertained  attributes,  but  not  in  the  glory  and  majesty  of  ouis. 

Our  author  most  ably  vindicate?  our  right  to  this  position  by  an 
examination  of  ]S\atural  Theology,  Natural  Religion,  and  the  Theory 
of  Moral  Distinctions,  showing  that  we  can  learn  nothing  from  these 
sources  concerning  the  "nature,  attributes,  or  government  of  God. 
These  views  he  has  largely  sustained  b}'  an  examination  of  the 
speculations  of  the  heathen  philosoi-lters,  making  it  appear  that  every 
system  of  philosopliy  or  metaphysics,  whether  ancient  or  modern, 
Avhich  has  attem])ted  the  elucidation  of  moral  phenomena  upon  merely 
human  principles  and  natural  knowledg.-,  has  universally  terminated 
in  scepticism  or  utter  doubtfulness  as  to  what  men  ought  to  believe 
concerning  God,  nature,  providence,  or  mankind.  In  short,  that  a 
Natural  Theology  is  an  impossibility. 


264  M'Culloh  on  the  Scriptures.  [April, 

After  showing  that  wc  can  learn  nothing  of  God  from  Natural 
Theology,  nor  from  any  external  exhibition  the  Deity  has  made  in 
the  world,  our  author  proceeds  to  investigate  the  credibility  of  the 
Scriptures,  which  claim  to  furnish  that  important  information  desired 
by  all,  but  neither  procured  nor  procurable  from  any  other  source. 

In  order  to  this  examination,  Dr.  ^d'Culloh  waives  as  illogical 
and  unsatisfactory  the  ordinary  arguments  used  by  the  defenders 
of  Revelation,  and  a?sumcs  that  the  only  just  plan  of  procedure  is 
to  examine  the  credibility  of  the  Scripture  writers  in  precisely  the 
same  manner  in  which  wo  would  ascertain  the  credibility  of  written 
human  testimony  upon  any  other  subject. 

This  is  a  most  important  position.  Tliat  any  of  the  able  contro- 
versialists, who  have  from  time  to  time  undertaken  to  vindicate  the 
credibility  of  Scripture,-should  have  overlooked  the  apparently  obvious 
truth  that  the  question  is  siraply  one  of  human  testimony,  is  truly 
unaccountablo.  Yet  the  fact  itself  is  plain  and  palpable.  Can  we 
establish  the  credibility  of  the  Scripture  writers  upon  the  fulfilment 
of  prophecy?  Even  if  we  could  show,  independently  of  the  sacred 
record,  that  certain  predictions  have  been  verified,  how  shall  we 
ascertain  the  character  and  nature  of  the  Superhuman  Bein<T  bv 
whom  they  were  uttered  ?  That  prophecies  have  been  accomplished. 
is  evidence  that  they  v,-cre  uttered  by  a  Prescient  Being;  but  it  does 
not  follow  that  the  Trcscient  Being  is  the  one  God  of  the  Bible. 
Can  we  establish  the  credibility  of  Scripture  upon  miracles?  How. 
without  Sciipture,  can  we  show  that  these  miracles  were  wrought. 
and  wrought  by  the  power  of  the  specific  Being  to  whom  we  attribute 
them?  That  it  is  perfectly  possible  to  resist  this  evidence  when 
most  vividly  presented  is  plain  from  the  fact  that  men  who  saw 
them  did  come  to  adverse  conclusions  in  the  matter,  admitting  the 
miracles,  but  denying  the  direction  of  their  attestation.  But  if  we 
can  procure  the  admission  of  the  divine  authority  of  the  prophets 
and  apostles,  how  shall  we  compel  men  to  acknowledge  the  faith- 
fulness of  the  divine  messengers  to  their  mission,  and  the  entire 
purity  of  the  doctrines  they  delivered  ?  N  or  can  we  find  impregnable 
refuge  in  the  morality  of  the  Scriptures,  heavenly  as  it  is,  for  the 
moral  teaching  of  Christianity  is  but  half  its  revelation.  Where  is 
the  guarantee  that  the  ethical  system  v,  Inch  approves  itself  to  our 
understanding  is  ncccssaril}'  connected  with  that  mysterious  doctrine 
of  the  atonement  which  bewilders  our  reason? 

It  is  evident  that  all  inferences  and  collateral  arguments,  however 
strong  as  secondary  and  corroboratory  supports  to  faith,  are  not  firm 
enough  to  furnish  its  foundation.  The  credibility  of  the  Scripture 
writers  rests  upon  the  results  of  a  fair  and  logical  examination  of 


1853.]  M'CuIJoh  on  the  Scrip! ures.  265 

their  kno^Yledge  of  the  matters  they  relate,  and  their  honest}-  in 
proclaiming  them.  By  this  examination  th(^y  must  stand  or  fall ; 
and  by  this  the  Bible  can  be  vindicated,  vrith  a  power  altogether 
irresistible. 

\Ye  know  that  men,  -vvho  have  long  given  habitual  assent  to  the 
Scriptm-es  as  a  whole,  commonly  find  no  dilliculty  in  proving  any  of 
its  doctrines  to  their  satisfaction  without  reference  to  the  question  of 
the  credibility  of  the  writer  whose  statements  they  may  be  defending. 
They  first  assume  the  truth,  then  reason  from  it.  It  is  amusing  tr> 
observe  with  what  complacency  men  will  argue  around  a  circle  upoi; 
such  occasions.  Take,  for  an  instance,  the  Easter  Sermon,  familia)- 
as  eating  eggs,  in  which  the  happy  preacher,  sure  of  a  successful 
argument,  demonstrates  the  fact  of  the  resurrection  of  our  Lord. 
One  would  suppose  that  it  would  be  plain  enough  that  whether  this 
gi-eat  event  did  take  place  is  to  be  determined  only  by  ascertaining 
the  credibility  of  the  witness  who  testifies  of  it.  .l>ut  the  preacher, 
taking  the  statement  for  truth  as  he  finds  it,  i)roceeds  to  show  that 
the  counter- evidence  of  the  lloman  guards,  as  there  narrated,  is  absurd, 
and  he  has  a  clear  field  of  it.  ¥ov  if  the\-  v/cre  asleep  they  had  no 
testimony  to  give,  and  if  they  were  not  t\n.'y  evidentl}'  lied.  But 
then  how  do  we  know  that  they  ever  made  such  a  statement?  "Be- 
cause the  Evangelist  says  so."  The  Evangelist  also  says  that  Jesus 
rose;  and  if  his  statements  be  assumed  as  true,  what  is  the  use  of 
any  argument  upon  the  matter? 

The  method  pursued  by  Dr.  .M'Culioh  is  most  conclusive  and 
satisfactory.  The  result  cannot  be  gainsayed  without  overturning 
all  historical  truth  and  stultifying  mankind,  who  have  in  all  ages 
found  satisfaction  in  the  consequences  of  th',-  samc])rinciple3  applied 
to  similar  investigations. 

There  are  but  two  methods  by  which  we  can  be  made  certain  of 
the  authenticity  of  a  divine  comnmnication.  Wv  must  cither  receive 
it  ourselves  in  such  a  way  as  to  mako  error  with  regard  to  it  im- 
possible, or  we  must  take  it  upon  the  tf.stimon}'-  of  others.  The 
Almighty  has  not  seen  fit  to  make  his  revelation  separately  to  every 
individual  born  into  the  world,  for  reasons  which  must  be  vividlv 
apparent  to  any  Avho  think  upon  tlio  mtittor.  All  but  a  selected. 
few  must  then  depend  for  the  fact  and  pmiry  of  Bcvclution  upon 
human  testimony,  and  the  truth  of  this  ti-.-timony  admits  but  of  one 
form  of  demonstration.  Direct  evidence  i.s  out  of  the  question;  for 
should  many  testify  to  the  same  divine  ajq»carance,  or  ir;essagc,  or 
miraculous  attestations,  thev  b}'  such  testimony  immediately  bocom" 
principals  in  the  controversy,  and  must  liave  their  own  credibility 
sustained.     Tn  fact,  direct  testimony  is  never  satisfactory  in  itself 

Fourth  Series  vol.  V.— IT 


266  MX'ulloh  on  the  Scrij/tures.  [April, 

In  doubtful  matters  it  is  never  relied  upon ;  for  wliat  is  called  direct 
evidence  is  valuable  or  not,  entirely  upon  the  judgment  which  has 
to  be  formed  upon  the  intelligence  and  veracity  of  the  -witness,  and 
these  are  determined  upon  the  consideration  of  various  circwnstances 
affecting  his  character  and  conduct.  If  direct  evidence  could  be 
conclusive  in  itself,  the  testimony  of  one  man  Tvould  be  as  decisive 
as  that  of  another.  That  it  is  not  so  Ave  all  know.  The  word  of 
one  man  is  often  entirel}'  satisfactory  -when  the  oath  of  another  is 
utterly  disbelieved.  Why  is  this?  Because  the  circnmstcnices  at- 
tending the  evidence  of  the  one  are  such  as  to  demonstrate  his 
veracity.  His  well-known  principles  of  conduct,  his  previous  life, 
his  character,  in  short,  give  demonstration  of  his  truthfulness. 

When  we  place  the  credibility  of  the  Scriptures  upon  the  certainty 
of  circumstantial  testimony,  we  place  it  upon  the  only  sure  and 
certain  ground  of  demonstration,  and  the  only  one  possible  in  such 
inquiries.  The  method  we  pursue  is  even  strictly  mathematical. 
It  is  a  legitimate  process  of  reasoning,  even  in  geometrical 
demonstrations,  to  state  a  fact  positively  and  to  show  its  ti-utli 
by  the  impossibility  of  the  negative.  It  is  true  that  many 
are  in  the  habit  of  disposing  summarily  of  this  question  by 
appealing  to  the  consciousness  of  believers,  who  know  from  the 
effects  of  the  gospel  the  truth  of  its  teachings.  Ear  from  under- 
valuing this  testimony,  wo  must  remember,  however,  that  it  is 
)iot  available  in  a  controver.sy  with  unbelievers,  nor  satisfactory  to 
the  Christian  himself  in  many  conditions  of  mind  to  which  he  is 
subject  in  his  warfare.  The  soul  shaken  by  temptation  cannot  be 
steadied  by  taking  hold  upon  itself;  it  must  have  external  support. 

Moses  was  cither  vdiat  he  claimed  to  be,  or  he  was  something  else. 
Let  us  suppose  him  to  have  been  anything  else,  and  test  him  by  his 
doctrines  and  his  conduct,  and  the  absurdity  of  the  supposition  can 
be  made  so  glaring  that  the  hypothesis  must  be  abandoned.  His 
pretensions  have  been  before  the  world  for  thou.sands  of  years.  If 
he  was  anything  else  than  he  assumed  to  be,  there  has  been  abundant 
time  and  opportunity  to  have  discoverdl  the  hypothesis  by  which 
the  facts  concerning  him  can  be  explained.  iSuch  an  hypothesis 
has  never  been  framed,  and  we  may  avcU  conclude  the  negative  im- 
possible. In  fact,  the  plausible  assunq^tions  possible  in  such  a  case 
arc  very  few,  Moses  was  either  a  politician,  who  desired  the  good 
of  his  people  and  assumed  the  divine  legation  as  a  benevolent 
fraud  to  insure  compliance  with  wise  economical  regulations;  or 
he  was  a  selfish  man,  actuated  by  a  j'laramount  desire  for  power, 
or  wealth,  or  sensual  gratifications,  or  for  perpetuating  a  dominant 
family — in  short,  by  some  such  considerations  as  arc  purel}'  human; 


1853.]  M'CuHoh  on  the  Scrip/ares.  267 

or  he  was  a  mixed  character,  at  once  patri«)tic  and  ambitious,  bene- 
volent and  selfish ;  or  he  was  a  man  of  priestly  caste,  possessed  by 
the  esprit  du  corps,  and  aimin;^  to  establish  an  imprei^nablc  sacerdotal 
authority  over  the  Jewish  nation.  Tested  upon  any  of  these  hy]io- 
theses,  his  conduct  is  utterly  inexplicable  and  incomprehensible. 
The  amount  of  irreducible  absurdity  which  presents  itself  to  be  har- 
monized upon  any  of  these  suppositions  i.s  amazing  even  to  be- 
lievers in  the.  tnith.  Dr.  M'Culloh  has  briefly  recapitulated  a 
number  of  them,  and  we  would  p;ladly  quote  from  his  exposition 
but  for  the  impropriety  of  weakening  the  argument  by  presenting 
only  fragments  of  it. 

There  is  one  fact  which  the  author  has  not  enumerated  which  we 
would  respectfully  ask  some  impugncr  of  Moses  to  explain  upon 
any  possible  theory  of  his  character  but  his  own.*  After  havin"- 
led  the  Israelitish  nation  out  of  bondage,  and  succeeded  in  pre- 
serving their  confidence  for  more  than  forty  years;  after  having 
brought  them  to  the  boundaries  of  Canaan,  and  to  the  verge  of  the 
accomplishment  of  all  his  promises  to  tliem,  he  felt  that  he  must 
die,  and  took  a  solemn  farewell  of  his  people.  AVh}'  was  it 
that  he  chose  to  invent  a  lie  in  order  to  convince  the  whole 
nation  that  his  death  was  puniion/ — tliat  ho  Avas  not  to  depart 
through  the  inevitable  necessities  of  Avorn-out  nature,  nor  to  be  trans- 
lated to  heaven  as  a  reward  for  his  gooilnoss,  but  to  be  cut  off  as  a 
punishment  for  sin?  "Why  did  he  cmjdMy  liis  last  moments  and 
exhaust  his  invention  in  devising  a  means  of  lessening  his  own  fame 
and  traducing  his  own  character  'i 

That  a  patriotic  and  wise  lawgiver  should  enjoin  upon  the  whole 
nation  to  abstain  from  cultivating  the  soil  every  seventh  year,  imder 
the  delusive  promise  of  periodical  and  .supernatural  superabundance ; 
that  he  should  oblige  all  tlie  males  of  a  defenceless  country,  sur- 
rounded by  hostile' nations,  to  assemble  at  Jerusalem  at  stated  periods, 
under  the  assurance  of  divine  protection  to  their  homes  durin"'  their 
absence;  that  an  ambitious  man  shoidd  assume  no  political  rank 
nor  distinction  for  himself  and  family  and  immediate  friends :  that  a 
selfish  man  should  acquire  no  property  as  a  natural  reward  fur  his 
eminent  services,  nor  ask  any  kindness  f.n-  liis  descendants;  that  a 
man  actuated  by  merely  human  princijiles  should  represent  himself  as 
dying  under  the  froATO  of  the  God  whoso  oracle  and  administration 
he  had  so  long  professed  to  be,  an<l  that  he  should  not  even  have 
provided  for  liis  body  a  funeral  and  a  grave;  tliat  a  zealous 
ecclesiastic  should  have  established  a  system  in  which  ecclesiastics 

"^  This  circi.imstancc  is  cursorily  allu-led  to  by  Home  in  lii«  argument  for  the 
crc<libility  of  Moses. 


268  JSrCvUoli  on  the  Scriptures.  [April, 

only  were  forbidden  to  hold  real  estate,  and  must  commence  their 
residence  in  the  promised  land  bv  a  formal  renunciation  of  their 
fair  share  of  the  soil  the}-  had  erjualh'  accjuired ;  that  their  provision 
should  amount  to  nothing  more  than  the  fruits  of  their  surrendered 
inheritance,  and  that  this  tithe  should  be  a  voluntary  payment,  secured 
by  no  statute  of  collection  nor  any  ecclesiastical  penalty;  that  their 
persons  should  not  be  protected  by  any  sacredness,  and  that  their 
office  should  be  cndowcil  vith  no  political  power;  above  all,  that 
access  to  the  Almighty  should  not  be  through  them  but  open  to 
every  man— these  are  some  of  the  paradoxes  which  the  impugners 
of  the  sacred  Scriptures  must  solve  before  they  can  discredit  Moses. 
Wc  thank  Dr.  M'Culloh  fwr  letting  us  know  the  extent  and 
availability  of  our  means  of  defence. 

Our  author  makes  great  u?c  of  the  fact,  that  though  the  Deity 
frequently  made  communications  to  the  Jews,  he  very  rarely  did  so 
through  the  priests,  but  conmionh'  through  laymen  of  various 
characters  and  conditions,  holding  no  official  relation  to  the  eccle- 
siastical establishment.  These  comnmnications  were  often  most 
offensive  to  kings  and  prie.~ts.  Sometimes  the  prophet  wiis  a  child, 
sometimes  a  woman;  generally  they  were  rude  and  obscure  men. 
What  ecclesiastical  or  political  establishment,  based  upon  merely 
human  considerations,  couLl  have  endured  such  authoritative  inter- 
ference as  tliis,  much  less  distinctly  recognised  it?  "What  sort  of 
kingcraft  and  priestcraft  is  exhibited  in  the  picture  of  the  monarch 
and  the  high-priest  of  Judah  applying  for  heavenly  counsel  tlu'ough 
Huldah,  the  female  keeper  of  the  royal  wardrobe? 

Pursuing  the  same  method  of  o.xamination,  our  atithor  demonstrates 
the  credibility  of  the  apostles  of  our  Lord,  whom  he  shows  to  have 
been  merely  the  same  class  of  men  as  the  Old  Testament  prophets, 
an  identity  of  the  utmost  importance  in  his  subsequent  inquiry  into 
the  constitution  of  tlie  Christian  Church. 

Having  established  the  credibility  of  the  Scripture  Avriters,  our 
author  proceeds  to  an  investigation  of  the  canon  of  Scripture,  the 
integrity  and  inspiration  of  the  te.xt,  Sic,  in  Avhich  wc  find  nothing 
entirely  new,  and  therefore  we  do  not  think  it  necessary  to  occupy 
our  little  remaining  space  by  comments  upon  it. 

The  author  then  undertakes  an  interpretation  of  the  Scrip- 
tures, which  he  effects  by  means  of  four  historical  investigations : — 
1st.  Concerning  the  Paradisaical  condition  of  Adam  and  Eve; 
2d.  The  Patriarchal  Dispensation;  od.  The  Jewish  Dispensation; 
4th.  The  Christian  Dispensation.  As  these  "investigations" 
are  essentially  historical  expositions,  carried  out  to  very  con- 
siderable   extent,    it   would   be   impossible  for  us  to  follow  the 


1853.]  MCulloh  on  the  Scriptures.  269 

author  through  his  details.  The  substantial  result,  as  estimated 
by  him,  is  to  establish  the  leading  fact  of  his  -work,  that  man- 
kind are  in  a  probationary  state,  as  intellectual  and  moral  fiee 
agents,  who  have  been  left  by  their  Creator  to  act  as  they  see 
proper  in  this  life,  subject  ultimotely  to  the  rigid  scrutiny  of  the 
day  of  judgment,  vrhen  all  things  shall  be  brought  to  the  appointed 
consummation. 

But  as  the  conclusions  to  which  Dr.  ^NPCulloh  arrives  upon  certain 
particulars  involved  in  the  Scriptural  history  of  God's  proceedings 
with  mankind  are  very  different  from  prevailing  theological  opinions, 
we  do  not  feel  at  liberty  to  pass  the  principal  points  of  disagreement 
without  notice. 

In  the  exposition  of  the  Paradisaical  state  of  Adam  and  Eve,  our 
author  avows  his  strong  dissent  from  the  doctrine  of  original  sin,which 
he  thinks  to  be  entirely  inconsistent  botlnvith  Scripture  and  with  facts. 
We  have  neither  space  nor  inclination  to  engage  in  the  interminable 
and  unprofitable  discussion  of  the  several  theories  by  which  ingenious 
men  havo  endeavoured  to  solve  the  inexplicable  riddle  of  the  existence 
of  universal  evil  in  the  dominions  of  an  omnipotent  Being  who  is 
himself  universally  good,  and  to  reconcile  man's  strict  accountability 
with  his  natural  depravity.  So  far  as  the  Scriptures  enlighten  us 
upon  the  subject  we  are  content  to  walk  by  faith,  and  beyond  this 
we  have  no  hope  in  speculations.  That  God's  dealings  to  his 
creatures  cannot  be  reconciled  to  our  notions  of  propriety  upon 
barely  human  reasoning  is  certain.  Even  if  vre,  upon  our  theory, 
and  Dr.  M'Culloh  upon  his,  find  full  satisfaction  in  contemplating 
om-  heavenly  Father's  conduct  towai-ds  men,  we  have  but  overcome 
one  difficulty  to  encounter  another ;  for  we  must  next  examine  His 
dealings  to  the  brute  creation,  who,  without  any  moral  delinquency 
of  their  federal  head,  or  any  probationary  imperfection,  are  subject 
to  bodily  evils  similar  to  our  own,  while  tlicir  instincts  compel  them 
to  worry  and  destroy  one  nnother— the  principle  of  love  being 
almost,  if  not  altogether,  excluded  from  the  system  under  which 
they  are  made  to  live;  their  condition  allowing  of  conduct  analogous 
only  to  the  wickedness,  never  to  the  virtues  of  man.  The  truth  / 
seems  to  us  to  be  that,  inasmuch  as  man  fell  by  presumptuously  \ 
preferring  the  tree  of  knowledge  to  the  tree  of  life,  intellectual  power  / 
to  moral  good,  God  has  so  constructed  his  plan  of  redemption  that  ) 
this  proud  intellectualism  shall  bo  pro.strated  in  the  dust  before  him.  1 
He  treats  it  with  profound  indifference.  He  dictates  his  commands 
to  us  as  a  God,  and  claims  our  obedience  because  he  is  God.  lie 
never  deigns  to  explain  the  rationale  of  his  government  nor  his 
salvation."  He  states  to  us  clearly  our  duty,  our  privileges,  and  the 


270  MX'uIIoh  on  the  Scriptures.  [April, 

consequences  of  our  life.  So  Jar  as  is  necessary  to  a  clear  compre- 
hension of  these,  and  to  a  proper  appreciation  of  them,  he  has 
enlightened  us ;  but  no  further.  His  revelation  is  entiielj  practical ; 
it  is  intended  to  save  men  from  sin,  and  prepare  them  for  heaven : 
beyond  this  purpose  it  is  mute.  Men  may  draw  inferences  and 
found  speculations  upon  the  Scriptures  at  -will ;  but  whether  they  be 
right  or  wrong,  the  Deity  vouchsafes  no  decision.  To  all  these 
inquiries  the  unvarying  answer  comes  forth  from  God,  "  Strive  to 
^nter  in  at  the  strait  gate." 

That  all  men  arc  sinners,  is  a  truth  clearly  taught  in  the  Bible, 
and  verified  by  every  day's  observation.  If  all  men  do  sin,  have 
sinned,  and  always  will  sin,  then  we  say  it  is  their  nature  to  sin — that 
is,  that  the  necessity  of  sinning  is  a  law  of  their  life,  depending  upon 
their  physical  and  moral  constitution.  Dr.  M'Culloh  does  not  deny 
the  universal  sinfulness  of  men  ;  on  the  contrary,  he  expressly 
admits  it,  but  he  contends  that  this  sinfulness  is  the  result  of  their 
natural  impci-fection.  and  not  of  any  pravity  entailed  upon  them  by 
Adam's  fall.  lie  insists,  however,  upon  the  absolute  necessity  of 
God's  grace  and  the  atonement  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  for  the 
salvation  of  men,  and  does  not  appear  to  differ  at  all  as  to  practical 
teachings  from  the  mwst  earnest  advocates  of  "  original  sin."  The 
question,  then,  betAveen  us  and  our  author,  if  we  comprehend  his 
meaning,  is  simply  the  abstract  one,  JIow  man  came  into  a  given  state 
of  sin?  We  contend,  solely  upon  tiie  ground  of  what  v,-e  believe  to 
be  the  teaching  of  revelation,  that  men  are  in  some  mysterious  way 
morally  implicated  in  the  fall  of  our  first  parents.  That  upon 
principles  of  government,  to  us  unintelligible,  God  has  so  connected 
us  with  his  retributions  upoii  Adam  and  Eve,  that  our  physical  and 
moral  state  have  been  altered  thereby,  in  such  way  that  the  one  has 
become  naturallj'  subject  to  disease  and  dissolution,  and  the  other 
to  sin  and  death.  Dr.  M'Culloh,  on  the  contrary,  supposes  that 
while  man's  body  was  implicated  in  Adam's  fall,  his  soul  was  not  so, 
except  that  the  condition  of  its  probation  was  thenceforth  changed. 
Nevertheless,  being  impeifect  in  order  to  probation,  coming  into 
the  world  ignorant  of  God,  without  mature  judgment  or  the  light  of 
experience,  pervaded  with  strong  animal  impidses,  men  must  neces- 
sarily sin,  and  having  sinned  can  only  be  saved  by  the  means  God 
has  appointed — redemption  by  Jesus  Christ,  and  sanctification  by 
the  Holy  Ghost. 

The  issue  thus  made  is  obviously  not  a  practical  one.  Two 
physicians  meet  to  consult  upon  the  case  of  a  patient.  The  disease 
is  plain  enough  and  bad  enough.  Tlie  man  is  evidently  about  to 
perish  unless  some  remedy  be  administered  to  him.     The  doctors 


1853.]  NPCuUoh  on  the  Scriptures.  271 

agree  entirely  as  to  the  nature  of  tlic  disease,  and  its  consequences. 
and  each  advises  the  same  specific  remedy,  both  asserting  it  to  bo 
infahible.  But,  beginning  to  theorize  about  tlie  matter,  one  insists 
that  the  poor  man  inherited  the  disease  from  his  father,  -while  the 
other  contends  that  he  engendered  it  in  his  own  constitution  as  the 
inevitable  result  of  the  circumstances  under  •which  he  lived.  The 
question  is  evidently  not  practical.  The  counsel  to  the  patient  is 
not  based  upon  the  doctrine  of  inheritance,  nor  spontaneity,  nor  at 
all  influenced  by  the  theories  of  the  advisers,  but  is  administered 
upon  sure  knowledge  of  its  cfiicacy.  The  question  would,  indeed, 
be  one  of  Hfe  and  death,  should  one  of  the  physicians  propose 
a  different  course  of  treatment  founded  upon  his  theory.  Our 
author  represents  one  of  the  physicians  in  the  first  part  of  the 
illustration,  and  we  think,  with  all  respect,  that  he  has  unncces- 
saril}'  encumbered  his  work  with  his  speculations  upon  this  subject. 
We  cannot  perceive  that  his  exposition  of  the  matter  helps  us  out 
of  our  difficulties.  Every  objection  to  the  implication  of  man's  soul 
in  the  fall  is  equally  applicable  to  the  implication  of  his  body ;  for 
an  unjust  principle  cannot  be  made  just  by  a  more  limited  or  less 
important  application  of  it.  At  the  most  the  author  can  only  con- 
sider himself  to  have  got  one  foot  out  of  the  morass,  while  the  other 
is  fixed  immovably  in  it.  AVe  prefer  not  to  enter  it  at  all,  even  with 
his  guidance.  "We  consider  the  Avholc  matter  inexplicable ;  and  we 
receive  the  teaching  of  the  Scriptures  upon  it,  so  far  as  we  com- 
prehend it,  with  implicit  faitli. 

We  agree  with  Dr.  M'Culloh,  that  in  the  matter  of  original  sin 
the  Calvinistic  divines  have  gone  greatly  too  far.  Indeed,  we  believe 
that  they  have  thrown  out  tlieir  k'edge  farther  than  they  have  ever 
been  able  to  warp  up  their  faith,  for  we  doubt  whether  any  man  ever 
really  believed  to  the  full  extent  and  universal  ajiplication  the  dogma 
that  children  are  born  into  the  world  "  vttcrbj  indisposed,  disabled, 
and  made  opposite  to  all  good,  and  tcholl;/  inclined  to  all  cvil^ 
Let  any  man,  for  a  few  moments,  consider  what  the  consequences 
of  such  a  state  would  be — what  a  brood  of  demons  every  family  of 
children!  What  o. pandemonium  every  nursery,  if  the  little  human 
beings,  full  of  hate  and  cruelty,  loving  all  wickedness  because  it  is 
wicked,  hating  all  good  because  it  is  good,  as  yet  uncontrolled  by 
fear,  could  come  into  contact  and  collision  with  each  other!  How 
could  Jesus  say  of  these.  Of  such  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven?  11  ow 
could  they  be  patterns  of  humility,  whoa  in  reality  they  were  by 
natiu-e  "utterly  indisposed  and  disabled,"  and  made  opposite  to  that 
virtue,  and  wholly  inclined  to  pride  and  rebellion?  And  how  would 
it  accelerate  an  entrance  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven  "  to  become  as 


272  M'CuUoli  (ju  ihe  Scnpiures.  [April, 

little  children,'"  tliat  is, ''  opposite  to  all  good,  and  inclined  to  all  evil  ?" 
The  fact  is,  the  definition  given  by  the  Westminster  divines  of  mo7i 
-vvould  be  full  and  complete  if  applied  to  a  devil.  Nothing  worse  can 
possibl}'  be  said  of  Satan  than  that  he  is  "  utterly  indisposed,  dis- 
abled, and  opposite  to  all  good,  and  wholly  inclined  to  all  evil." 

If  vfQ  press  these  vievrs  upon  a  Calvinist  the  universal  reply  is 
that  we  urge  the  doctrine  to  extremes ;  which,  in  view  of  the  palpable 
fact  that  the  definition  is  as  extreme  as  words  can  make  it,  merely 
means  that  it  is  too  extreme  for  practical  applicatie>n,  and  in  reality 
too  extreme  to  be  believed. 

That  men  arc  born  aliens  from  God,  without  that  communion  of 
his  Spirit  necessary  to  a  spiritual  life,  is  true.  That  until  reunited 
to  God  they  must  be  wholly  incompetent  to  perfonn  the  duties  and 
accomphsh  the  benevolent  purposes  of  their  probationary  state,  and 
that  in  the  eyes  of  God  their  conduct  as  to  himself  must,  when  viewed 
in  the  light  of  a  perfect  law,  be  wholly  sinful,  is,  we  think,  clearly 
taught  us  in  the  Scriptures.  That  man's  moral  condition  at  the 
fall  was  changed  through  the  privation  of  the  Holy  Spirit  in  the 
power  with  which  He  originally  dwelt  in  man,  and  not  by  the  infusion 
into  him  by  his  Creator  of  an  evil  principle,  is,  we  think,  clearly 
inferable  from  Scripture  and  facts.  But  that  men  are  naturally 
human  devils,  hating  good  and  loving  evil,  in  the  fullest  sense  of 
abstract  principles,  we  do  not  believe;  and  neither,  we  think,  does 
any  one  else. 

With  regard  to  the  essential  inherent  nature  of  our  Lord,  Dr. 
M'Culloh  professes  to  be  without  an}'  opinion.  He  considers  that 
we  have  no  clear  revelation  upon  the  subject ;  and  that,  therefore,  the 
subject,  being  n-ithout  revelation,  utterly  incomprehensible,  has  noth- 
ing whatever  to  do  Avith  Christian  fiith.  All  that  has  been  distinctly 
communicated  to  us,  is  that  in  virtue  of  his  humiliation,  personal 
suffering  and  death,  he  became  the  author  or  basis  of  our  salvation, 
and  evermore  exists  as  our  Saviour,  ^Mediator,  or  High-Priest  before 
Jehovah,  through  whom  only  we  can  obtain  the  forgiveness  of  oiir 
sins  and  everlasting  acceptance  hereafter  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven." 
"  Whether  the  apostles  themselves  possessed  any  knowledge  concern- 
ing the  inherent  nature  of  Jesus  Christ,  or  of  the  theory  by  which 
the  salvation  of  mankind  was  accomplished,  I  altogether  doubt; 
for  why  should  they  forbear  to  communicate  it  when  their  great 
business  Avas  to  convince  and  convert  the  Avorld?  .  .  .  They  have 
made  no  connnunication  to  mankind  on  these  ])articulars,  etc.,  iV'c." 
Notwithstanding  the  "absolute  incomprehensibility  of  the  inherent 
nature,  or  personality  of  Jesus  Christ,'"  the  author  thinks,  "  It  is. 
abundantly  clear  from  the  New  Testament  writers  that  Jesus  Christ 


1853.]  ArCuUoh  on  the  Scriptures.  273 

died  for  our  sins;  that  he  is  our  Ili'^h-Pricst,  Mediator  aud 
Advocate  before  God;  and  that  lie  shall  at  the  last  day,  as  our 
Judge,  determine  our  future  and  ete^-nal  condition^ 

Dr.  M'CuUoh  argues  this  proposition  (the  incomprehensibility 
of  the  inherent  nature  of  Jesus)  from  the  considerations  :  1st.  That 
it  has  not  been  clearly  revealed ;  and  2d.  That  our  Saviour  himself 
cut  short  all  inquiry  upon  the  subject  by  the  declaration  (Luke  x,  22) : 
"  No  one  knoweth  who  the  Son  is  but  the  Father." 

In  shoAving  that  no  doctrine  upon  this  subject  has  been  revealed, 
oui-  author  urges  as  conclusive  the  fact  that  the  Christian  world  has 
always  been  divided  in  opinion  about  it.  (Page  35S,  Vol.  1.)  But 
surely  this  argument  would  apply  to  the  doctrine  of  the  atonement 
quite  as  irresistibly.  The  author  asserts  tlmt  the  fact  that  the  grea:: 
majority  of  Christians  have  adopted  the  Trinitarian  hypothesis  is 
no  evidence  of  its  truth,  as  majorities  are  by  no  means  necessarily 
right,  and  in  matters  of  religion  have  often  been  egregiously  wrong. 
There  is  a  very  subtile  sophism,  however,  in  his  reasoning  upon 
this  matter;  for  while  repudiating  the  authorit}'-  of  the  majority  to 
decide  the  question  in  the  affirmative,  he  actually  permits  the  minor- 
ity to  decide  it  in  the  negative.  For  his  syllogism  amounts  to  this: 
— No  doctrine  can  be  clearly  revealed  wliicli  Ins  always  been  dis- 
puted by  a  large  minority  of  Christians ;  but  the  doctrine  of  the 
Trinity  has  been  always  thus  disputed;  therefore  the  doctrine  of 
the  Trinity  is  not  true.  Here  we  have  a  most  important  examyjle 
of  the  negative  jvcgnant  with  an  affirmative;  for  by  denying  the 
Trinitarian  hypothesis  in  this  instance,  the  author  makes  us,  by  an 
evident  extension  of  the  procedure,  afiirni  the  "  i-ncomprehcnsiblc 
one,"  which  is  as  much  an  hypothesis  as  the  other. 

Our  author  proves  very  clearly,  by  an  array  of  ^^cripture  texts, 
that  the  apostles  commonly  offered  Jesus  simply  as  the  promised 
Messiah  of  the  Jews  and  the  lledcemer  of  men ;  but  he  takes  no 
notice  of  other  passages  which  seem  to  us  to  be  most  positive 
declarations  of  the  Divinity  of  our  Lord.  We  can  afford  to 
surrender  to  the  Arians,  (among  whom  we  by  no  means  intend 
to  include  Dr.  M'CuUoh,)  all  the  texts  upon  the  authenticity  of 
which  they  have  been  able  to  cast  a  doubt.  "We  can  abandon 
1  John  V,  7,  "  There  are  three  that  bear  record,  &.c.,"  which 
we  believe  to  be  spurious,  and  submit  to  the  Arian  intci-pretation  of 
1  Tim.  iii,  IC :  "  God  manifest  in  thr  flesh,"  tVc,  of  which  passage, 
however.  Dr.  M'CuUoh  has  been  misled  in  saying,  "All  the  ancient 
manuscripts  are  against  the  reading  of  our  ))rinted  Bibles  1"  The 
•  contrary  is  the  case:  for  (see  Bloomfield,  Greek  Testament, note  on 
this  place)  only  four  manuscripts  support  the  reading  of  Griesbach, 


274  jSrCuUoh  on  the  Scriptures.  [April, 

"which  Dr.  M'Culloh  adopts.  lie  perhaps  intended  "versw?is*^ 
instead  of  manuscripts. 

Yet,  Avithout  these  passages,  the  testimony  of  the  oSJew  Testa- 
ment to  the  essential  Divinity  of  Christ  is  to  our  apprehension 
abimdantly  satisfactory.  The  introduction  to  the  Gospel  of  John, 
the  authenticity  of  vrhich  is  confessedly  impregnable,  is  alone  suffi- 
cient to  prove  the  inhcr(;nt  Divinity  of  Him  who  "  in  the  beginning 
was  with  God,  and  was  God."-- 

Then  we  have  our  Lord's  declaration  to  Philip ;  Thomas's  permitted 
and  commended  homage,  "  My  Lord  and  my  God,"  f  (John  xx,  2S ;) 
the  many  strong  passages  in  the  apostolic  writings,  such  as  Colos- 
sians  i,  16,  17 :  "  For  by  Ilim  were  all  things  created  that  are  in 
heaven  and  that  are  in  earth,  visible  and  inN'isible,  whether  thrones, 
or  dominions,  or  principalities,  or  powers :  all  things  were  created 
by  Him  and  for  Him :  and  He  is  before  all  things,  and  by  Him  all 
things  consist;"  and  that  of  John:  '"This  is  the  true  God  and 
Eternal  Life!"  The  whole  book  of  Revelation  is  also  positive 
upon  this  point. 

Dr.  M'Culloh  lays  great  stress  upon  the  words  of  our  Lord, 
Luke  X,  22 :  No  man  knowclh  the  Son  but  the  Father.  He  cites 
this  passage  repeatedly,  and  puts  it  in  capitals,  as  decisive  of  the 
presumption  of  all  who  profess  to  hold  any  opinions  upon  the 
inherent  nature  of  our  Jjord.  But  he  should  have  quoted  the 
whole  passage  of  which  the  part  in  question  is  but  a  dislo- 
cated fragment.  The  text  reads  :  '•  All  things  are  delivered 
to  me  of  my  Father;  and  no  rnan  knoweth  who  tho  Son  is  but 
the  Father;  and  icho  the  Father  is  hut  the  Soji,  and  he  to 
Avhom  the  Son  will  reveal  him."  If  this  passage  proves  that 
men  are  excluded  from  believing  in  the  inherent  Divinity  of  the 
Son,  it  does  so  also  of  the  Father,  unless  we  suppose  that  the 
true  revelation  of  the  Father  Avas  subsequently  made  by  the  Son, 
of  which  we  have  no  evidence  Avhat soever.  That  the  passage  teaches 
that  the  comprehension  of  the  mystery  of  the  Godhead  and  incarna- 
tion of  Jesus  are  possible  only  to  God,  we  admit;  but  Dr.  M'Culloh 
seems  to  have  confounded  the  incomprehensible  with  the  incredible. 

"  The  reader  wlio  may  bo  cimous  to  sec  the  effect  of  this  passage  upon  the 
mind  of  a  determined  Socinian,  will  be  e-ratifiod  by  consulting  Kcnrick's  exposi- 
tion, lie  makes  t-svo  trials  at  interpretation  opposite  to  each  other,  and  gives  the 
reader  his  choice.     If  this  be  exposition,  it  is  easy  work.  » 

t  Of  this  passage  Kcurick  says  :  "These  words  are  no  more  than  an  exclama- 
tion of  the  apostle,  the  effect  of  sudden  surprise  and  astonishment ;"  so  that 
to  make  Thomas  a  Socinian  he  represents  him  as  a  profane  man,  who,  when  sur- 
prised or  astonished,  took  the  name  of  God  in  vain,  even  in  the  presence  of 
the  Messiah. 


1853.]    .  M'Culloh  on  the  Scriptures.  275 

Certainly  we  can  believe  in  an  eternal,  omnipresent,  and  omniscient 
Being,  without  comprehending  anytliing  of  his  nature ;  and  so  we 
can  believe  in  the  Divinity  of  Jesus,  although  his  nature,  too,  is 
utterly  beyond  our  comprehension. 

Though  to  receive  Jesus  as  the  Messiah  is  the  only  condition  of 
salvation  by  him,  yet  we  are  helped  greatly  thus  to  receive  him  by 
a  sure  confidence  in  his  Divinity.  Indeed,  to  occupy  the  position 
chosen  by  Dr.  M'Culloh  would  to  most  j)ersons  prove  an  impossible 
intellectual  feat.  "  It  would  be  like  sitting  on  the  ridge  of  a  house 
without  inclining  either  way."  To  receive  Jesus  as  the  Messiah,  we 
find  it  necessary  to  regard  him  as  higher  tliau  all  created  intelligences, 
and  when  we  have  imagined  a  Being  prior  to,  and  necessary  to, 
and  unaffected  by,  all  created  things,  we  liave  imagined  God. 
Dr.  M'Culloh  himself,  we  doubt  not,  believes  in  the  Divinity  of 
our  Lord.  He  has  shrunk  from  the  bewildering  inquiry  into  the 
mode  of  Divine  Being,  and  shut  up  his  mind  against  all  conclusion 
upon  the  subject;  but  we  think  it  will  not  be  difficult  for  him  to 
trace  his  sure  confidence  in  Jesus  to  the  certainty  that  the  "  Word 
was  God." 

"With  regard  to  the  resurrection  of  the  dead,  Dr.  M'Culloh  adopts 
the  views  of  Mr.  Locke,  whicb  seem  also  to  have  been  acceptable 
to  Archbishop  Whately.  The  doctrine  is,  that  by  the  resiu-rection 
of  the  dead  is  not  meant  of  the  dead  bod//,  but  only  the  revivification 
of  dead  persons,  who  remain  in  unconsciousness  until  the  great  and 
terrible  day  of  the  Lord.  The  argument  as  presented  by  our 
author  contains  a  very  full  examination  of  the  many  passages  of 
Scripture  bearing  upon  this  interesting  point.  It  is,  of  course, 
impossible  that  we  should  follow  him  through  his  exposition.  We 
will  only  comment  upon  one  Greek  criticism  upon  which  the  case 
mainly  rests. 

Dr.  M'Culloh  says  : — 

"  The  Scriptures  say  expressly,  The  dm'!  ?liall  be  raised ;  but  nowhere,  that 
the  (had  bodieg  of  men  shall  be  raiscil.  T\um'  torins  are  entirely  different,  and 
the  distinction  is  clearly  expressed  in  the  (^Jr«:-.'k  of  the  New  Testament.  .  .  . 
The  Greek  word  for  the  dead  is  vFKpnr,  an  adiettive  or  part  of  speech  which 
every  one,  acquainted  even  with  English  jrraniinar,  knows  to  be  a  word  ex- 
pressing a  qualihi,  stale  or  condition.  Jt  is  not  a  noun  substantive,  and  as 
such  by  no  propriety  could  be  used  as  implying  a  d<ad  Imbj." 

It  would  be  enough,  perhaps,  to  say  in  reply  to  this,  that  the  original 
use  of  the  word  vsk(^6^  was  its  substantive  use,  to  denote  a  dead  bodij, 
a  corpse,  (see  Liddell  <k  Scott,  or  Kobin.son,  sub  voce,)  and  that  it 
was  only  in  Attic  and  later  usage  that  it  was,  in  fact,  to  any  extent, 
employed  adjectively.  But  even  admitting  that  the  Scripture  Avrilers 
commonly  speak  of  the  resurrection  of  "the  dead,"  using  vth-Qog 


276  jWCulloh  on  the  Scriptures.  [April, 

adjectively,  the  expression  seems  to  us  perfectly  natural  and  consistent 
with  our  present  usa^e.  "We  do  not  speak  of  the  resurrection  of 
corpses  or  of  mere  animal  remains,  (^auvia-a,)  but  of  the  dead, 
because  we  do  not  believe  that  the  body  is  to  be  revivified  witliout 
reunion  with  the  spirit  and  entire  restoration  of  the  person  deceased. 
Had  the  apostles  tauj^lit  the  resurrection  of  the  "aw^a,"  they 
would  have  left  it  in  doubt  whether  the  hope  of  the  resurrection  is 
confined  to  the  human  race,  or  is  common  to  all  the  creatures  subject 
to  death.  They  would  also  have  left  it  uncertain  whether  tl>e  re- 
animation  of  the  body  is  to  be  merely  a  restoration  to  it  of  animal 
life,  or  a  reunion  with  it  of  the  moral  and  intellectual  nature.  We 
think  they  used  the  right  word,  and  are  well  satisfied  with  the  ordi- 
nary interpretation  of  it. 

Dr.  M'CuUoh  is  alwaj'S  stroni!;est  where  ho  is  most  original. 
The  valuable  parts  of  his  work  a.re  his  own,  the  errors  are  commonly 
opinions  and  arguments  adopted  from  others.  Modestly  confessing 
the  imperfection  of  his  classical  learning,  which  however  is  very 
respectable,  the  doctor  has  confided  too  fully  in  the  pretensions  of 
great  men.  However,  one  can  hardly  lose  much  reputation  by  erring 
with  John  Locke. 

Dr.  M'Culloh  declares  his  decided  appi'obation  of  the  views  of 
Macknight  and  others,  that,  after  the  final  decisions  of  the  judgment, 
the  wicked  will  be  utterly  destroyed  by  a  dreadful  visitation  of  Al- 
mighty wrath.  Tliis  question  is  to  bo  determined  in  no  other  way 
than  by  the  interpretation  of  the  texts  of  Scripture  which  bear  upon  it. 
We  have  no  right  to  argue  it  upon  its  consistency  with  the  divine 
character  on  the  one  hand,  nor  tlic  evil  consequences  which  may  be 
expected  to  follow  its  aflirmatiun  upon  the  other.  It  is  a  simple 
question  of,  What  saith  the  Lord?  and  the  answer  must  be  found 
in  the  critical  examination  of  the  Greek  text  of  the  New  Testament. 
Through  such  an  examination  it  is  impossible  to  follow  our  author. 
lie  oQers  no  new  argument  in  fiivour  of  his  hypothesis,  and  we 
refer  our  readers  for  its  refutation  to  the  many  writings  upon 
the  subject.  There  are  several  other  points  on  which  our  author 
maintains  opinions  contrary  to  those  commonly  received ;  but  Ave 
cannot  fmd  space  to  comment  upon  them.  Om-  silence,  however, 
must  not  be  coustnied  as  assent. 

On  the  constitution  and  organization  of  Christian  Churches, 
Dr.  jM'Culloh  has  given  us  a  remarkable  essay,  original  in  its  views, 
and  exhibiting  much  bold  and  patient  investigation,  and  a  very 
commendable  independence  in  the  conclusions  which  it  offers  to  the 
Christian  world.  We  regret  exceedingly  that  we  cannot  review 
this  part  of  the  work  as  fully  as  its  importance  and  excellence  de- 


1853.]  iWCvlloh  on  the  Scriptures.  277 

serve;  but  ^Ye  can  do  little  more  than  notice  the  author's  conclusion?, 
and  must  refer  the  reader  to  the  Avork  for  his  arguments. 

Dr.  M'Culloh  shows  that  our  Lord  never  constituted  a  body  of 
clergy  as  an  ecclesiastical  corporation,  and  consequently  that  there 
can,  by  no  possibility,  be  any  succession  of  ecclesiastical  corporate 
rights  or  official  relationship  to  God  and  man  as  are  claimed  by  the 
clergy  of  the  Catholic  and  Episcopal  Churches,  and  more  modestly 
by  all  -who  regard  Presbyterial  ordination  as  anything  more  than 
a  mere  form  by  -which  a  bod}^  of  Christians  acknovrledge  their 
acceptance  of  a  preacher  or  pastor.  That  the  apostles  were  merely 
such  divine  agents  as  the  prophets  of  old,  acting  in  an  individual 
capacity,  and  utterl}-  incapable  of  transferring  or  transmitting  their 
authority  or  office,  either  as  individuals,  or  tln-ough  the  intervention 
of  a  corporate  or  collegiate  embodiment,  Ih-.  M'Culloh  has  shown 
beyond  the  possibility  of  successful  contradiction.  The  theory  of 
apostolical  descent  is,  therefore,  obviously  absurd ;  and  that  of  Pres- 
byterial ordination,  if  we  claim  for  it  any  validity  or  importance  on 
account  of  presumed  transmission,  is  not  a  whit  more  tenable. 

Dr.  M'Calloh's  views  of  the  constitution  of  the  primitive  Church 
■wc  give  in  his  own  words : — 

"  The  result  of  my  invo^tig^ation  i.*  as  fallows :  7V/>-^,  -wliou  any  number  of 
Christian  believers  wore  sidHciently  nuincrous  in  any  locality  to  form  a  «oeictv 
or  conprregatiou,  their  theory  of  organization  was  either  .«llb^tantially  like  that 
of  an  ordinary  prayer  nieoting,  t^iich  as  is  ln-hl  by  tK!V(nit  layrnen  among;  ns;  at 
the  present  day;  or  S'sronilh/,  when  a  body  of  convt.Tts  to  Christianity  had 
been  made  by  the  pjoaching  of  an  a]iostlo.  it  vould  seoni  that  he  ordinarily 
at  least  seleeted  certain  persons  to  watch  ovrr  tliem  and  to  instruet  theni, 
essentially  in  a  manner  analogous  to  what  Is  dune  by  llie  clc.^.'i  lc<*Ucrii  in  the 
society  of  Methodists.  In  an  ensuing  age,  afti>r  t!ic  decease  of  the  aposdes. 
the  members  of  these  several  associations  or  congregations,  however  originallv 
formed,  henceforth  selected  their  leaders  by  t-oun-  formal  expression  of  their 
own  approbation. 

"  But  that  there  may  be  no  misapprehension  a>  to  the  apj.lication  of  my  argu- 
ment hereafter,  I  must  first  state  what  is  to  be  understood  by  a  prayer  or  class 
meeting,  as  illustrating  the  views  advanced  above  concerning  the  organization 
of  the  i)rimitive  Church. 

"The  prayer  meeting  that  I  recognise  as  an  illii>tralion  is  the  one  where 
devout  laymen,  -^vithout  any  clcrgA-man,  meet  tiwi^tlicr  for  jnirposes  of  mutual 
religious  edification.  They  have  no  f  irmal  constitution,  nor  by-laws ;  yet  it 
will  be  found,  after  the  lapse  of  a  iew  week.-.,  tiiat  the  as>ociation  has  acquired 
a  consistency  of  lorm,  and  that  certain  individuals  among  them  have  become 
prominent  in  the  as.-ociation  as  those  who  connnonly  make  the  public  prayer, 
read  the  Scripture,  or  exhort  and  instruct  the  mcndxn-s,  as  well  as  make  any 
address  to  the  association  on  any  extrinsic  sulijcei  intercsling  to  them.  Tlie/c 
persons  thus  become  leaders  or  oliicer,--  In  the  .Mirlcty  only  tlirough  the  tacit 
approbation  of  the  other  members,  and  ^^>>t  by  any  formal  election.  Their 
number  is  necessarily  indefinite  from  the  theory  of  their  union,  that  presupposes 
that  whenever  any  member  is  able  to  say  anytliing  to  the  edification  of  his 
a.ssociatcs,  he  cither  v,i!!  do  so  troni  the  in~'i;ja'!nn  of  his  own  t'eelings,  or  else 


278  ^^CuUoh  on  the  Scrijylares.  [April, 

will  be  invited  to  do  so  by  those  who  arc  aware  of  his  ability.  A  society  thus 
organized  may  continue  to  exLt  in  a  t^iniiiar  manner  for  centuries,  as  individuals 
will  he  found  continually  cominu;  forward  among  the  nuw  members,  to  supply 
vacancies  occurring  among  the  leaders,  whether  from  death  or  from  any  orlier 
causes. 
***«■*******««        ■» 

"  The  leaders  in  such  assemblies  the  primitive  Christians  designated  according 
to  their  own  idiom,  as  being  zobjitim,  elders,  which  means  nothing  more  than 
is  signified  by  our  terms,  directors  or  superintendents 

"  It  is  to  the  class  meeting  in  Its  peculiar  feature  as  being  under  the  direction 
of  a  leader  icJio  is  a  siinj>le  lai/ui'Jii,  not  selected  by  themselves,  that  I  find  an 
analog)-  to  the  organlzatii-in  est\I>li-hcd  b}-  the  ajw^tles  among  their  disciples 
in  certain  instances,  and  whvdi  was  more  especially  the  case  with  those  con- 
verted from  tliC  Gentiles.  In  other  Avords,  the  apostles  in  these  instances 
designated  the  leaders  or  superintendents,  which  ordinarily  with  the  Jewish 
disciples  arose  from  the  tacit  approbation  of  the  members  of  the  societies. 

"  The  various  Churches  of  tlie  primitive  Christians  were  thus  organized, 
whether  according  to  the  prlncipli-  of  the  ])rayer  or  class  meeting,  and  their 
respective  leaders  or  elders  fiom  their  n;ere  position  exercised  all  those  functions 
which  are  now  restricted  to  the  chrgy,  such  as  exhorting,  preaching,  praying, 
administering  baptism,  or  in  coninniuoratlng  the  Lord's  supper.  They  had  no 
exclusive  authority  to  peribrm  sii<-h  functions,  yet  (It  was)  just  as  it  is  in  a 
prayer  meeting,  where,  though  any  one  of  the  association  has  a  right  either  to 
exhort  or  pray  in  public,  yet  the  niijorlty  never  claim  to  exercise  the  right. 

"At  the  same  time  that  tla-  yuki-nlni,  elders  or  ])resbyters,  thus  performed 
those  services  which  arc  now  specially  arrogated  by  the  clergy  to  themselves, 
the  more  humble  services  necessary  in  the  association  were  performed  by  those 
who,  in  the  Greek  language,  were  ternu-d  ilcacon.f,  I.  e.  ministers  or  servants. 
The  function  of  deacon  in  the  first  instance,  under  the  intluence  of  oriental 
customs,  required  two  classes  of  persons,  viz.,  7iialcs  for  services  among  men 
females  for  those  among  women.  These  were  to  visit,  comtbrt,  instruct,  or 
relieve  the  wants  or  atllictlons  of  the  several  members. 

"That  such  simple  forms  of  organization  as  the  prayer  or  clas^ meetings 
were  amplv  sufiiclent  tor  Chri-tian  ediliealion  or  instruction  may  be  'distinetiv 
inferred  froin  the  laet  that  the  i-eligious  system  promulgated  in  the  New  Testa- 
ment requires  no  theological  or  speculative  teaching.  There  are  no  esoteric 
doctrines  to  be  communlcat.-d  to  th',-  people,  and  the  simple  requirements  of 
the  gospel,  as  being  perfectly  iiiti-Iliglble  to  the  plainest  capacities,  are  there 
merely  announced  to  mankind  tor  moral  or  religious  observance.  It  is  our 
duty  to  carry  tlicm  out  into  prartice,  and  it  is  not  our  duty  to  speculate  upon 
them  as  theological  subtlltics." 

With  regard  to  the  nature  of  ordination,  ^vl^cll  is  made  to  play 
so  important  a  part  in  modern  ecclesiastical  controversies,  our  author 
'  shows  that  it  uas  not  properly  a  Christian  institution,  but  a  mere 
continuance  of  a  familiar  Jewish  practice.  Amons;  the  Jews  it  vras 
originally  a  civil  rite,  by  which  men  were  formally  inducted  into 
office  of  any  kind.  It  was  also  used  in  the  recognition  of  rabbis, 
being  nothing  more  than  tlie  public  acknowledgment  on  the  part  of 
one  or  more  doctors  of  the  law  that  the  individual  ordained  was  fully 
instructed  in  and  competent  to  teach  the  (31d  Testament  Scriptmes. 
The  early  Christians  founded  their  infant  Churches  upon  the  basis 
of  the  synagogue,  and  introduced  into  tlicir  new  arrangements  it' 


1653.]  M'Culloh  on  the  Scriptures.  279 

offices,  and  names,  and  usages.  As  in  the  synago<::;uo  system  there 
was  no  ecclesiastical  body  or  clergy  analogous  to  those  now  recognised 
in  the  Christian  Churches,  so  there  was  no  such  class  of  persons  in 
the  primitive  Church.  The  term  clergy  originally  merely  designated 
persons  officially  employed  in  Christian  congregations,  in  contra- 
distinction to  those  who  c.'tercised  no  such  functions.  Tt  included 
"  women  (deaconesses),  readers,  porters,  door-keepers,  and  even  the 
grave-diggers." 

Dr.  M'Culloh  shows  most  lucidly  how  this  simple  organization 
became  corrupted ;  how  the  word  clcrpij  l)ccame  restricted,  and  how 
the  clergy  thus  technically  admitted  shifted  their  traditionary  deriva- 
tion from  the  synagogue  to  the  temple,  and  claimed  their  descent 
from  the  Aaronic  priesthood  and  the  Lcvites.  In  this  gradual,  long- 
continued,  and  successful  attempt  to  establi.sh  the  foundations  of  the 
Christian  Church  upon  the  temple  instead  of  the  synagogue  lies 
the  secret  of  the  corruptions  which  have  for  centuries  so  disfigin-ed 
and  perverted  Christianity.  It  is  this  error  -svliich  of  all  others  it 
should  be  the  effect  of  Protestants  to  overthrow,  and  Dr.  ^M'Culloh. 
by  his  clear,  manly,  and  irrefragable  exposition  of  tliis  subject,  has 
done  a  service  to  the  cause  of  truth  and  to  the  welfare  of  the  world 
which  can  hardl}'  be  appreciated  too  highly. 

In  his  chapters  upon  the  Developments  of  Christianity,  our  author 
has  shown  how  this  pestilent  notion  linall}'  reached  its  theoretical 
maturity  in  the  admission  of  the  existence  of  a  concrete  Holy 
Catholic  Church,  a?  an  article  of  fjiitli : — 

"At  the  same  time  tliat  t]u>  iiinovatinns  \\o\o  takincr  ]<lace  by  wliicli  tlio 
ciders  of  Christian  conp'('!;^ations  -wc-io  L'ra'iiiaHy  ronvortcl  into  priests,  tlicrc 
%\-as  another  principle  licvd.jpin^  itself  aniMiiL'  all  Cliri-tian  comiiuinlties  which 
not  only  tended  to  the  estahlishini'nt  of  ili.-  a--iii!i.Ml  pri(.--tiy  character  of  the 
elders  or  ministers  of  the  gospel,  hut  whieh  aeuially  eoiifmned  them  as  such 
by  bringing  all  Christendom  under  the  entire  conirol  of  ilic  ck-rgy  as  legislators 
for  the  Avhole  body  of  Christian  belie^»M^••■,  This  principle  was  the  gradual 
rise  and  ullimattly"full  recognition  of  the  doetrine  of  a  I [■)!>/  CathoUc  Chvrd-. 
This  tenu.  originally  an  ahMrart  one,  meaning,  as  now  among  Protestant^ 
properly  so  called,  the  whole  body  of  believers,  now  became  concrete,  and 
designated  the  majority  of  Christians,  acting  and  spt^-diinc'  through  their  clergy. 
The  immense  importance  of  this  change  can  c>t,Iy  b<-  filly  \uiderstood  by  ex- 
amining its  consequences,  as  frightfully  develiju-il  and  yet  developing  in  both 
civil  and  ecclesiastical  aflairs.  We  fully  agrc-  with  our  author  that""  it  is  of 
the  utmost  importance  that  the  reader  >li'tuld  di-tinetly  comprehend  the  vast 
change  that  was  introduced  into  th.c  Chri^'.iaii  religiuu  by  the  insensible  proce-s 
of  converting  the  abstract  term,  Chun-h  •■/  Ciiri<i,  into  the  concrete  term  Holy 
Catholic  Church:  for  the  oversight  of  this  matter  has  been  the  cause  of  great 
perplexity  to  all  readers  of  ecclesiastical  hi-tury.  ;ind  e-pecially  so  to  \ho-o 
who  have  been  engaged  in  controvcr^ies  witli  tlie  lloman  Catholic  Church." 

We  cannot  follow  Dr.  M'Culloh  through  his  udmirable  exposition 
of  the  progress  of  the  eiTor  above  nuticed,  and  the  other  mistakes 


2S0  yrCuUoh  on  the  Scriptures.  [April. 

of  early  Christians,  as  developed  under  the  Roman  empire.  His 
essay  upon  this  subject  is  a  mo.>t  valuable  contribution  to  Protestant 
literature.  It  lays  the  axo  to  the  root  of  the  hierarchical  pretensions 
of  the  clergy  of  the  Roman  Catholic  and  Episcopal  Churches,  and 
prostrates  that  gigantic  upas  which  has  for  so  many  ages  thrown  its 
poisonous  shade  over  the  mo.st  highly  civilized  and  intelligent  nations 
of  the  earth. 

Of  the  chapter  which  treats  of  the  Developments  of  Christianity 
since  the  Reformation,  we  have  no  space  to  express  a  critical  opinion. 
[t  is  well  worth  the  serious  attention  of  devout  and  thoughtful  men. 
and  to  them  we  commend  it.  Upon  the  subject  of  the  mode 
of  worship,  however,  Pr.  M'Culloli  expresses  some  views,  so  ex- 
cellent and  so  pertinent  to  the  present  circumstances  of  the  Church, 
that  we  cannot  refrain  from  (pioting  from  him,  brief!}' : — 

'•I  aci  tlie  n.ovc  stroiiuly  iusjullod  to  call  tlic  sorious attention  of  my  readers 
to  the  subject  of  ohiin-h  I'llif'n-i-s  tVom  tlic  circumstance  tliat  many  of  the 
churches  built  in  tlu"  Unitcil  St,nt(>.s  tlurinj;  tlu;  past  few  years  have  boon 
consti'ucted  upon  arcliitec-tiiral  uioiIl'I.s  that  involve  not  only  an  unjustifi- 
able e.xpcndituro  of  money,  Imt  are  also  expressly  contemplated  for  pro- 
moting superstitious  feelin;_'s  in  tliosc.  who  it  is  supposed  v.ill  assemble  in  such 
buildings. 

"This  is  especial!}-  the  case  with  (Jothic  elunrhes,  the  invention  of  the 
darkest  and  most  super.-titious  time  the  Ciiristian  world  has  ever  seen,  when 
neai-ly  all  spirituality  of  religion  being  unknown,  the  mere  imagination  -wa;? 
excited  by  the  fanciful  })7-oj>ri(tios  oi  an  ecclesiastical  opera-house,  that  sub- 
stantially only  represented  religious  melodramas. 

"  Instead  therefore  of  entering  a  chin-ch  under  intellectual  considerations 
that  they  are  about,  on  tlieir  own  theory,  to  hold  communion  with  the  Sovereign 
of  the  universe,  from  whom  they  aie  to  implore  pardon  for  sin,  and  the  sancti- 
fieation  of  their  n-'ture  i)y  the  i-enewing  of  the  Iloly  Spirit,  these  most  un- 
thinking Protestants  have  erected  churches,  whose  gloomy  dei-orations,  stained 
glass  wiudovvs,  solemn  strains  of  mii^ie  from  organs  and  well-drilled  musical 
choirs,  load  tiiein  away  from  all  intellectual  perceptions  of  the  condcscen.sion 
of  their  Creator,  anrl  plunge  them  into  the  gross  delusion  of  supposing  that 
they  are  worshipping  God  when  tln-y  arc  merely  gratifying  their  own  eyes 
and  ears.  .  .  .  The  decay  of  spiritual  apprehen.sions  concerning  their  religious 
condition,  or  the  right  cxerci:-e  of  their  privileges,  I  think  may  be  estimated 
in  a  congregation  according  to  their  proi-eeditisr  on  sti.'h  subjects,  as  distinctly 
as  the  growth  of  a  worldly  spirit  is  indicated  by  the  actions  of  an  individual. 
.\i  I  believe,  the  ostablishmenr  of  a  choir  is  one  exhibition  of  the  decrease  of 
the  true  prinL-i[iles  of  Christianity  in  a  congit'gation,  the  addition  of  an  organ 
or  other  mu-Ical  insn-ument^  manifests  a  still  greater  amount  of  spii'itual 
insensibility  to  divine  things.  If  to  these  be  aildcd  the  building  of  an  cxpen- 
>ively  decorated  church,  and  above  all  a  (iothie  church.  I  know  not  where 
their  absuril  will-worship  will  carry  them.  Toexpect  that  the  .'Spirit  of  Jehovah 
will  continue  to  aliid-  among  a  comnmnity  who  have  adopti-d  practices  so 
wholly  unsu'itained  by  aiiy  apiprobation  of  prophets  or  apostles,  and  so  contrary- 
in  their  character  to  t!;e  intLJleclual  genius  of  ('iu-istianity,  is  toexpect  direedy 
contrary  to  what  Jehovah  has  announced  in  the  Serliitures,  as  well  as  what  ha 
has  alrcaily  exhibited  in  iiis  providential  dealings  towards  mankind." 


1853.]  M'CuUoh  on  the  Scnpti/res.  2S1 

We  heartily  thank  Dr.  M'Culloh  for  this  plain  and  fearless 
declaration  of  unfashionable  and  unwelcome  truth.  Like  him,  we 
think  we  see  the  tlu-ee  stages  of  declension  manifested  in  choirs, 
organs,  and  Gothic  churches.  They  mark  the  successive  transfers 
of  the  kingdom  of  God  from  within  to  Avithout  us — the  regular  stages 
of  progression  in  a  scheme  of  piety  by  substitution.  Praise  by  proxy, 
solemnity  by  mechanics,  and  an  outward  temple  of  stone  for  the 
inward  temple  of  the  Koly  Ghost,  these  are  the  tendencies  of  thi?- 
carnal  generation.  Even  Methodism  is  infected  with  this  evil  spirit 
of  sensLUilism.  Alas !  for  us,  we  have  to  a  great  extent  abandoned 
the  beautiful  and  spiritual  melodies,  the  heart-music  of  former  days. 
with  which  the  early  Methodists  sang  the  gospel  throughout  the  land, 
making  hills  and  valleys  echo  with  tlic  name  of  Jesus.  Since  we 
have  been  deprived  of  the  privilege  of  praising  God  in  the  congi-ega- 
tions  of  his  people,  the  memory  of  the  olden  time  is  "'  sweet  and 
mournful  to  our  soul." 

We  here  close  our  imperfect  review  of  this,  in  many  respects, 
remarkable  work.  If  any  shall  be  disposed  to  censure  us  for  undue 
lenity  towards  an  author  who  advocates  so  many  opinions  different 
from  our  own,  we  reply  in  the  language  of  John  Milton : — "  Heresv 
is  the  will  and  choice  professedly  against  Scripture;  error  is  against 
the  will — a  misunderstanding  the  Scriptiu-e,  after  all  sincere  en- 
deavour to  understand  it  rightly.  Hence  it  was  said  by  one  of  the 
ancients,  'Err  I  may,  but  a  heretic  I  will  not  be.'  It  is  a  human 
frailty  to  err,  and  no  man  is  infallible  here  on  earth.  But  so  long 
as  all  of  them  profess  to  set  the  word  of  God  onh"  before  them  a? 
the  rule  of  faith  and  obedience,  and  use  all  diligence  and  sincerity 
of  heart,  by  reading,  by  learning,  by  study,  by  pra3'er  for  the  illu- 
mination of  the  Holy  Spirit  to  understand  the  rule,  and  obev  it. 
they  have  done  what  men  can  do.  God  will  assuredly  pardon 
them  as  he  did  the  friends  of  Job,  good  and  pious  men,  thou'^h 
much  mistaken,  as  there  it  appears,  in  some  points  of  doctrine.'' — 
Milton,  "  Of  True  Religion.'' 

Fourth  Series,  Vol.  V.— 18. 


262  Japan  and  the  Japanese.  [April, 


Art.  VI.— JAPAN  AND  THE  JAP^NJ^ESE. 

Japan  :  an  account,  Geographical  and  Historical,  from  the  earliest  period  at  which 
the  islands  composi/ig  this  empire  tccie  knoivn  to  Europeans  doini  to  the 
present  time,  and  the  Expedition  Jilted  out  in  the  United  States,  i:c.  By  Chat.les 
.Mac  F-UiLANE,  Esq.,  Author  of  "l?riti.sli  Iiului,"  "Life  of  Vrellington,"  &c.,  &c. 
12mo.     New  York  :  George  1*.  rutnaui  ^l-  Co. 

UxiiL  the  year  154"2,  althoui^h  the  nautical  enterprise  of  the 
Portuguese  had  planted  thoir  colonics  and  their  faith  along  the  shores 
of  India  and  China,  no  European  had  visited  Japan.  Marco  Polo, 
who  travelled  through  China  in  the  latter  part  of  the  thirteenth 
century,  had  gathered  some  hints  respecting  the  Island  Empire;  but 
the  since-verified  narratives  of  the  celebrated  Venetian,  respecting 
a  civilization  in  many  respects  beyond  that  of  his  o-",vu  age  in 
Eui'opc,  found  but  little  credit.  At  the  date  above  mentioned  a 
Portuguese  ship,  driven  from  her  course  by  storms,  came  at  length 
to  anchor  at  the  Island  of  Kin.-ju.  The  tempest-tost  mariners  vrere 
received  -^vith  respect  and  kindness,  and.  although  vigilantly  -^vatched, 
^vcre  allovred  free  intercourse  ^vith  the  people.  Stnick  bv  the  appa- 
rent "wealth  and  civilization  of  tlie  country,  they  obtained  permission 
to  send  a  ship  annually.  Seven  years  afterwards  a  young  Japanese 
found  his  way  to  the  Portuguese  settlement  at  Goa,  and,  having  been 
converted  from  idolatry,  uas  baptized  into  the  Church  of  Home. 
He  showed  the  merchants  h'lv,-  extensive  and  profitable  a  market 
was  offered  in  Japan  for  Euiv.pcan  and  Indian  commodities,  and  in 
his  zeal  for  the  new  taitii  urged  the  Jesuits  to  the  easy  task  of 
Christianizing  his  countrymen.  The  enterprising  traders  resolved 
at  once  to  occupy  the  new  field :  and  although  fearful  dangers  huno- 
around  the  path  of  those  early  ntvvigators  along  stormy  and  barba- 
rous coasts,  yet  the  spirit  of  the  apostolic  Xavier,  which  had 
electrified  the  shores  of  India  by  its  fiery  zeal,  disdained  that  charity 
should  falter  where  avarice  could  press  on.  lie  himself,  with  a  band 
of  devoted  followers,  sailed  in  a  ship  laden  with  rich  presents  and 
valuable  merchandise,  and  arrived  safely  at  the  port  of  Pungo.  The 
Islanders  gave  tliem  all  a  hearty  Avelcome.  They  travelled  through- 
out the  country  and  visited  the  various  ports.  The  nobles  of  the 
country  vied  with  each  other  in  sumptuous  hospitality.  The  goods 
sold  for  double  their  value,  and  the  exports  taken  in  return  brought 
rare  profits  again  at  home.  It  is  not  surpi-ising,  therefore,  that 
commercial  intercourse  rapidly  increased,  and  the  Portuguese  resi- 
dents became  very  numerous,  more  especially  as  the  general  toleration 


1853.]  Japan  and  the  Japanese.  263 

wliich  prevailed,  and  a  singular  coincidence  between  some  tradi- 
tional notions  and  the  uxcts  of  the  Christian  Scriptures,  facilitated 
the  conversion  of  the  natives.  At  first,  -when  the  impatient  mission- 
aries attempted  to  procure  translations  of  their  M-rittcn  sermons 
from  unpractised  interpreters,  the  effort  to  read  homilies  in  bad 
Japanese,  written  in  Latin  characters,  afforded  nnich  amusement ; 
but  when  longer  intercourse  had  made  them  familiar  with  the  lan- 
guage and  character  of  the  people,  their  success  was  astonishing. 
Xavier,  with  the  preternatural  quickness  of  a  mind  strung  to  its 
highest  tension  by  one  absorbing  idea,  mastered  the  language  in  a 
few  weeks.  Leaving  his  fellow-labourers  on  the  coast,  and  among 
those  Avhose  commercial  relations  inclined  tiicm  most  favourably 
towards  the  strangers,  he  penetrated  the  interior  of  the  countrv. 
Driven  from  one  city  by  the  angry  mob  whose  voluptuousness  he 
denounced,  and  from  another  by  the  violence  of  a  besieging  rebel 
faction,  he  plunged  througli  forests  heaped  with  snow-drifts,  and 
climbed  over  mountains  of  barren  rock,  unmurmuring  and  without 
a  groan;  until,  attended  only  by  a  native  convert,  who  followed 
with  astonished  and  mechanical  devotedncss.  he  reached  the  capital, 
his  eye  still  gleaming  from  his  cmaciati-d  countenance  with  the  fire 
of  a  heavenly  mission.  Such  heroic  energy  betokening  his  personal 
conviction  of  the  truths  he  asserted,  surh  an  evident  vision  of  eter- 
nal realities  above  the  sensual  life  which  lie  relmked,  gave  to  his 
appeals  to  the  slumbering  conscience  of  the  iv.xi'wn  a  resistless  power. 
Jiis  humble  colleagues  at  the  sca-povis  were  visiting  the  sick  and 
relieving  the  poor,  with  all  that  constancy  of  self-denying  piety 
which  marked  the  early  years  of  the  successive  monastic  orders. 
Thousands  were  converted  and  baptized.  Three  of  the  hereditary 
nobility  made  an  open  profession  of  Christianity.  Xavier  even  had 
a  public  disputation  Avith  the  champions  of  the  lluddhist  sects  in 
the  presence  of  the  emperor,  who  strongly  favoured  the  missionaries. 
An  embassy  of  Japanese  converts  was  sent  to  bear  the  homage  of 
the  rising  Church  to  the  feet  of  Plis  Holiness  at  iiome  ;  and  altliough 
Xavier  had  left  Japan  and  died  on  the  sliore  of  China  before  they 
returned  with  the  blessings  and  honours  of  the  Suprerae  Toutiff,  tlie 
progress  of  the  faith  was  so  rapid  that  his  successor,  who^died  in 
loTO,  is  said  to  have  founded  fifty  Churches,  and  to  have  baptized 
with  his  own  hands  thirty  thousand  cunvcrts.  The  Jesuits,  after 
giving  a  carefid  education  to  a  number  uf  promising  young  native 
conve'i-ts,  admitted  them  into  their  order.  The  irritate.!  priesthood 
of  the  ancient  religion  at  length  extorted  from  the  court  a  procla- 
mation that  no  native  should  be  baptized  or  profess  Christianity 
under  pain  of  death.     It  was,  however,  seldom  enforced  in  a  country 


284  Japan  and  the  Japanese.  [April, 

where  the  toleration  of  indifTercnce  had  long  prevailed,  and  v>hcre, 
as  yet,  Romanism  had  not  affected  any  political  interest.  When  the 
bonzes  of  all  the  sects  concurred  in  a  jietition  to  the  emperor  Nobu- 
nanga,  that  he  %yould  expel  the  Jesnits  and  all  Romish  monks  from 
Japan,  that  prince,  annoyed  by  their  importunities,  inquired  how 
many  different  religions  there  were  in  Japan.  "  Tliirty-five,"  said 
the  bonzes.  '•  Well,"  said  the  emperor,  "  where  thirty-five  religions 
can  be  tolerated,  we  can  easily  bear  with  thirty-six  :  leave  the 
strangers  in  peace.''  The  event  proved  his  mistake.  But  mean- 
while the  Portuguese  increased  in  numbers,  and  gained  a  stronger 
hold  on  the  affections  of  the  people.  jMany  of  them  married  ladies, 
baptized  of  course,  from  the  first  families  in  Japan ;  and  traces  of 
their  civilization,  then  the  highest  in  Europe  excepting  the  Italian, 
still  linger,  blendeil  with  the  forms  of  oriental  culture. 

About  this  time  Holland  began  to  acqnire  that  maritime  power  in 
the  East,  before  which  the  ascendency  of  Spain  and  Portugal  gi-ad- 
ually  waned.  In  the  year  150S  a  fleet  of  five  vessels  sailed  from 
the  Texel  to  attempt  the  unfrequented  passage  of  Cape  Horn,  with 
no  definite  port  in  contemplation,  but  for  the  purpose  of  extending 
trade  and  national  i)ifluence.  Disease,  shipwreck,  and  the  cruelty 
of  savages  and  cannibals  left  but  one  lonely  vessel  to  struggle  on 
through  strange  oceans,  until,  after  two  years  Avandering,  the  pilot 
and  his  diminished  crew  reached  the  harbour  of  Bungo.  They  vrere 
at  once  boarded  by  the  junks  which  filled  the  bay,  and  the  emaci- 
ated forms  and  listless  eyes  of  the  unfortunate  voyagers  gave  free 
license  to  the  covetousness  that  robs  the  weak.  Soon,  however, 
soldiers  came  on  board  to  protect  the  property,  and  the  sick  mari- 
ners were  as.signed  a  comfortable  house  on  shore,  and  their  wants 
well  supplied.  Some  Portuguese  friars,  coming  from  Nangasaki, 
■\-isited  them  and  almost  wrought  their  destruction.  The  Papal  and 
Protestant  countries  of  Europe  had  long  waged  bitter  wfirfare,  and 
cherished  religious  and  national  animosities.  The  Pope  had,  a  cen- 
tury before,  delegated  to  Spain  and  Portugal  exclusive  right  of 
empire  over  what  proved  to  be  two-thirds  of  the  globe,  and  thus  a 
shadow  of  just  resistance  to  an  invasion  of  sacred  rights  sanctified 
the  selfish  hatred  of  rival  traders.  The  Dutch  sometimes  retaliated 
fearfully  when  their  vessels,  always  armed,  could  conquer  a  galleon 
from  the  peninsula  :  so  the  Portuguese  priests  represented  the 
strangers  as  pirates,  and  roused  the  hatred  of  the  native  converts  by 
terming  them  heretics  and  blasphemers.  But,  fortunately,  the  case 
was  carried  before  the  imperial  court,  and  the  emperor  commanded 
Adams  Ihe  pilot,  and  one  sailor,  to  be  brought  before  him. 

This  Adams  was  a  fine  specimen  of  the  honest,  straight-forward. 


1853.]  Japan  and  the  Japanese.  285 

manly  English  sailor,  and  his  shrewdness  and  simplicity  commended 
him  to  the  king.  With  no  barbaric  contemptuousness  or  insult,  but 
•VYith  a  nice  curiosity  and  consideration,  the  prince  questioned  him 
in  regard  to  his  native  land  and  Holland,  and  all  the  natural  charac- 
teristics and  the  political  and  artistic  progress  of  the  Western 
world.  In  repeated  interviews,  during  a  long  confinement,  the  pilot 
answered  the  royal  questioner,  and  showed  him  on  a  chart  their 
passage  through  the  Straits  of  Magellan.  "  At  length  the  emperor 
gave  the  Jesuits  and  Portuguese  this  answer :  '  That  as  yet  we  had 
done  no  hurt  or  damage  to  him,  nor  to  any  of  his  laud,  and  that 
therefore  it  was  against  justice  or  reason  to  put  us  to  death ;  and  if 
our  countries  and  theirs  had  wars  one  with  the  other,  that  was  no 
cause  that  he  should  put  us  to  death.'  The  emperor  answering 
them  thus,  the}'  were  quite  out  of  heart  that  their  cruel  pretence 
failed ;  for  the  which,  God  be  praised  forever  and  ever '"  Adams 
was  released ;  but  the  emperor,  unwilling  to  tcm})t  a  further  inter- 
course with  these  powciful  nations,  or  esteeming  Adams  too  valuable 
a  man  to  be  lost,  dismantled  the  ship  and  forbade  him  to  leave  the 
empire.  To  the  sailors  he  gave  a  liberal  pension,  but  Adams  enjoyed 
every  honom-  and  luxiu-y  accessible  to  any  but  the  native  nobiUty.  At 
the  emperor's  command  he  superintended  the  building  of  a  ship  of 
eighty  tons,  on  the  European  model,  the  Japanese  shipwrights  being 
admirable  workmen  and  requiring  only  his  general  direction ;  and 
some  time  after  lie  built  one  of  a  Imndred  and  twenty  tons  burthen. 
He  taught  the  king  "geometry  and  the  mathematics,"  and  became 
the  medium  through  whom  even  the  Poituguese  sought  to  gain  impe- 
rial favours.  Through  his  influence,  also,  two  Holland  ships,  which 
arrived  in  1C09,  were  kindly  received;  and  the  officers,  after  being 
well  entertained  at  coin-t,  received  permission  to  trade  on  favourable 
terms.  During  the  next  ten  years  they  succeeded,  amid  much  oppo- 
sition from  the  Portuguese,  in  establishing  a  factor}^  at  Firando. 

We  now  approach  that  melancholy  period  from  which  Christianity 
has  been  a  loathed  and  persecuted  thing  in  the  scenes  of  its  former 
triumphs,  and  the  once  welcomed  nations  of  Europe  have  been 
driven  from  these  shores. 

Persecution  had  commenced  before  the  arrival  of  AVilliam  Adams, 
and  appears  to  have  been  hastened  by  the  dissensions  which  sprung 
up  between  the  rival  monastic  orders.  The  blind  zeal  of  the  old 
fraternities  who  poured  in  from  India  and  the  Philippines,  could 
not  abide  the  cautious  policy  of  the  .Jesuits,  but  persisted  in  fanat- 
ical denunciations,  and  in  public  processions,  and  even  in  the 
erection  of  a  church  in  the  Holy  City,  contrary  to  an  express  edict. 
It  is  asserted  that  the  faithfid  protest  of  the  Church  against  the 


286  Japan  and  the  JajKiiu'sr.  [Afril, 

licentiousness  of  the  nution  provoked  the  revenr^e  ;  but  the  general 
testimony  is,  that  the  arrogance  of  the  Komish  hierarchy  became 
insensible  of  the  duties  of  conunou  civility  to  even  the  nobility.  It 
Avas  the  pride  that  goeth  before  a  fall.  The  Japanese  had  not  been 
tutored  to  brook  the  spirit  of  llildebrand.  In  1597  twenty-six  pro- 
fessing Christians  Avere  executed  on  the  cross,  the  churches  wen- 
razed,  the  schools  closed,  and  the  faith  declared  infimous  and  sub- 
versive of  civil  authority. 

This  persecution  raged  with  varying  intensity  during  thirty  years. 
Tortures,  terrible  as  those  which  tried  the  integrity  of  the  early 
Church,  illustrated  the  sincerity  and  constancy  of  multitudes  of 
Japanese  converts  ;  but  at  length  an  event  occurred  Avhich  at  once 
determined  the  immodiate  extennination  of  all  Christians,  and  the 
rigid  exclusion  of  foreigners.  Treasonable  letters,  -written  by  a 
principal  Japanese  convert  to  the  Portuguese,  'were  intercepted. 
,Thcse  papers  disclosed  a  widely-organized  conspiracy  between  the 
priests,  Portuguese  residents,  and  native  converts,  to  secure  assistance 
from  Europe,  and,  after  overthrowing  the  ancient  rule  of  the  empire, 
to  establish  a  Christian  government  consecrated  by  the  Pope's  ben- 
ediction. The  agency  of  the  Jesuits  -was  clearly  proven.  The 
scheme  was  plausible,  and  perfectly  in  accordance  Avith  the  political 
morality  of  a  Church  which  acknowledges  no  rights  that  -R-ould 
impede  her  progress,  and  whose'  settled  policy  it  is  to  secure  the 
control  of  the  secular  power,  and  so  compel  submissioii  to  her  dic- 
tates. The  indignant  emperor  immediately  issued  a  proclauiation, 
decreeing, 

'"That  the  •whole  race  of  tlic  rortiiiruoso.  with  thoir  mothers,  nurses,  and 
whatever  belongs  to  them,  sliall  Ia-  banished  forever:  that  no  Japanese  ship, 
or  boat,  or  any  native  of  Japan,  >h()uld  hiiiceforlli  presume  to  quit  the  eouutry, 
under  pain  of  ibrfoiture  and  death  ;  tliat  any  Japanese  returning-  from  a  for- 
eig-n  country  should  be  jmt  to  (U'atli :  that  no  nobleman  or  soldier  should  be 
sutTercd  to  purchase  anything  of  a  tbreigiu'r ;  that  an}-  person  presuming  to 
bring  a  letter  from  aV;roa<l,  or  to  return  to  Japan  after'he  had  been  banished, 
should  die,  -svith  all  his  family,  and  that  v,-ho-u'ver  presumed  to  intereede  for 
such  ofVenders  should  be  put  to  death,  &c. :  that  all  persons  -who  propagated 
the  doetrines  of  the  Christians,  or  liore  that  seandalous  name,  should  be  seized 
and  innnured  In  theeonmion  jail,'  &c.  A  re-.vurd  was  ollered  for  the  discovery 
of  every  padre  or  priest,  and  a  smaller  reward  lor  the  discovery  of  evcrv 
native  Chnstian." 

Such  was  the  ordinance  of  1G37 — an  indignant  precaution  against 
the  treachery  of  wolves  in  sheep's  clothing,  which  has  been  in  effect 
ever  since.  Its  provisions  in  regard  to  the  Portuguese  were  at  once 
enforced.  The  native  converts,  although  bereft  of  their  accustomed 
teachers,  nobly  refused  to  abjtire  their  faith,  and,  roused  by  despair, 
gathered  in  open  rebellion  in  the  city  of  Simabraa.     The  imperial 


1853.!|  Japan  and  the  Japanese.  287 

troops  dre\y  around  the  devoted  spot ;  the  Dutch  admiral,  fearful  of 
losing  his  new  commercial  monopoh^  or  palliatin^::;  the  act,  as  war- 
fare only  against  the  allies  of  Portugal  and  Antichrist,  obeyed  the 
command  to  bombard  the  town ;  and  after  a  heroic  resistance,  the 
captured  multitude,  men,  women  and  children,  the  entire  Christian 
Church  of  Japan,  was  butchered  as  a  hecatomb  to  Vengeance. 
"  Over  the  common  grave  of  the  martyrs  was  set  up  this  impious 
inscription  :  '  So  long  as  the  Sun  shall  warm  the  Earth,  let  no 
Christian  be  so  bold  as  to  come  to  Japan ;  and  let  all  know  that 
the  King  of  Spain  himself,  or  the  Christian's  God,  or  the  great  God 
of  all,  if  he  violate  this  command,  shall  pay  for  it  with  his  head.' " 

Since  this  period  no  foreign  intercourse  has  been  tolerated,  except 
a  limited  trade  with  China  at  one  or  two  ports,  and  the  annual  arri- 
val of  two  Dutch  vessels.  The  few  Dutch  residents  are  confined  to 
a  little  island  in  the  harbour,  and  arc  subjected  to  the  most  irksome 
and  humiliating  restrictions.  On  \\iQ  regular  arrival  of  the  ships, 
they  are  dismantled  and  searched;  all  munitions  of  war  are  taken 
from  them,  and  every  article  of  merchandise  inventoried.  The  res- 
ident director  is  expected  to  make  a  journey,  formerly  annual,  but 
now  ciuadrennial,  to  the  imperial  city,  with  rich  presents  for  the 
emperor,  and  most  humiliating  ceremonies  were  imposed.  Until 
1822,  not  the  slightest  intercourse  was  allowed  with  the  natives  on 
the  road;  and  all  the  expenses  of  the  journey,  including  that  of  the 
special  police,  were  charged  to  the  Dutch.  Since  then  more  liberty 
of  intercourse  and  observation  has  been  accorded  to  the  embassy, 
but  the  harboiu'  regulations  arc  unmitigated,  llussia  especially, 
whose  territories  are  contiguous,  has  persevered  in  fruitless  attempts 
to  open  an  intercourse.  England,  during  the  life- time  and  influence 
of  Adams  at  the  Japanese  court,  secured  a  treaty  of  astonishing 
liberality,  granting  not  only  tlie  privileges  of  Japanese  citizens,  but 
the  immunities  and  forms  of  British  law,  to  resident  Englishmen. 
But  the  East  Lidia  Company  having  been  unsuccessful,  through 
some  miscalculation,  in  their  first  mercantile  ventures  to  Japan, 
neglected  their  privileges,  until  the  edict  of  ltir!7  rescinded  them. 
Of  late  years,  the  field  of  the  whale  fisheries  has  been  narrowed 
from  the  breadth  of  the  Pacific  Ocean  to  the  seas  lying  along  the 
Asiatic  continent,  and  running  nortlnvard  to  the  Aleutian  straits 
Our  vessels  are  frequently  in  distress  fur  provisions  and  water,  or 
are  even  wrecked  upon  those  rocky  shores.  The  Japanese  policy 
has  denied  the  suflerers  all  that  relief  and  protection  guarantied 
by  international  law  among  all  maritime  nations.  It  is  to  solicit. 
or  insist  upon,  the  recognition  of  these  natural  rights  of  our  unfor- 
tunate seamen,  that  the  American  o.xjudition  is  sent  out.     It  is  a 


288  Japan  and  the  Japanese.  [April, 

secondary,  although  important  object  to  secure  to  our  steam  navi- 
gation on  the  Pacific  a  supply  of  coal,  -witli  which  Japan  abounds, 
and  which  is  in  extensive  use  throughout  the  empire. 

Referring  to  the  map  for  an  accurate  idea  of  the  relative  position 
of  these  islands  and  their  future  commercial  importance,  we  may 
remark  that  the  four  largest  islands,  jS'iphon,  Kiewsow,  Sitkokf,  and 
Jesso,  are  respectively  ec[ual  to  Great  Britain,  Sardinia,  Corsica, 
and  L'cland.  Tiie  soil  is  I'crtile  and  well  tilled.  There  is  an  agri- 
cultural law,  by  which  whosoever  leaves  his  grounds  uncultivated 
for  the  term  of  one  year  forfeits  the  possession.  Tobacco,  cotton, 
and  silk  are  extensively  raised  and  manufactured.  The  mineral 
wealth  of  the  country  is  remarkable,  and  the  arts  requisite  to  its 
development  have  long  boon  practised.  Swords,  that  rival  the  boast 
of  Toledo  or  Damascus ;  ornamental  silver  and  gold ;  luxuries  of  the 
richest  designs,  and  even  telescopes,  barometers,  thermometers  and 
similar  instruments,  at  first  imported,  are  now  made  by  native 
artisans.  The  policy  of  the  government  represses  labor-saving 
inventions,  as  prejudicial  to  the  interests  of  the  poorer  classes. 

The  coasting  and  inland  trade  is  immense,  proportioned  to  the 
density  of  the  population.  Cities,  or,  as  they  are  there  deemed, 
villages,  of  thousands  of  inhabitants  have  grown  into  each  other, 
until  you  may  travel  for  miles  along  the  main  roads  and  only  know, 
from  the  varying  names  of  localities,  that  all  is  not  ono  large  cit}". 
By  the  best  authorities,  the  pojiulation  of  the  capital  exceeds  that 
of  London,  and  other  cities  arc  peopled  in  the  same  ratio.  The 
palaces  and  public  buildings  are  of  great  magnificence,  many  being 
built  of  brown  stone ;  but  the  ordinary  material  employed  in  building 
is  timber  and  bamboo.  In  the  interior  of  these  dwellings  cleanliness 
and  order  is  always  insisted  u])on,  and  the  same  regard  for  purity 
and  elegance  marks  their  personal  appearance  and  general  demeanour. 
The  position  of  woman  in  Japan  is  far  different  from  that  of  the 
sex  in  China  and  other  oriental  countries,  and  approaches  the  free- 
dom and  privilege  of  European  manners.  Permitted  to  enjoy 
unrestrained  access  to  general  society,  and  presiding  at  home  over 
the  hospitalities  of  her  mansion,  the  Japanese  lady  passes  beneath 
the  tuition  of  a  professional  instructor,  like  the  dancing  master  of 
our  hemisphere,  who  imparts  the  science  of  graceful  and  accurate 
preparation  of  the  tea,  aiul  its  presentation  to  the  guests.  The 
females,  moreover,  are  educated,  as  well  as  the  other  sex. 

"  From  the  highest  down  to  the  very  lowest,  every  Japanese  is  sent  to  school. 
It  is  Siiid  th.it  there  are  more  scluwhs  in  the  oini)iro  than  in  any  other  country 
in  the  ■world,  and  that  al!  tli"  j)oasants  anil  jxtor  people  can,  at  lc-aj;t,  read. 
This  is  surely  a  noticeahlo  fiu't,  and  a  nvi-t  hoi>ourahle  distiiicllon.  The  minds 
of  the  Avomen  arc  as  carefidly  cultivated  as  those  of  the  men.     Hence,  iu  the 


1853.3  Japan  and  the  Japanese.  289 

array  of  tlie  most  admii-ed  poett;,  historians,  and  otlicr  authors,  are  found  very 
many  females." 

"  The  wide  dllTusion  of  education,  "wLIc li  has  been  more  than  once  men- 
tioned, is  of  no  recent  date.  The  first  of  all  the  nii?sioiiaries  Avho  visited  the 
countT}-,  found  schools  established  wherever  they  went.  The  sainted  Xavier 
mentions  the  existence  of  four  '  Academies'  in  the  vicinity  of  ]Miako,  at  each 
of  which  education  was  afforded  to  between  thrcu  and  four  thousand  pupils ; 
adding,  that  considerable  as  these  numbers  were,  they  were  quite- insignificant 
in  comparison  with  the  numbers  insUnicted  at  an  institution  near  IJandone,  and 
that  such  institxitions  were  univei"sal  througliout  the  empire." — P.  311. 

'•  Our  ollicors,  who  visited  the  country  as  late  as  the  year  184.^,  ascertained 
that  there  existed  a  college  at  Xangasaki,  in  which,  additionally  to  the  routine 
of  native  acqiuremonts,  tbreign  languages  were  taught."  "  These  peojile  pos- 
sess works  of  all  kinds — historical  compositions,  geogTaj)hical  and  other 
scientific  treatises,  books  on  natural  history,  voyages  and  travels,  moral  philos- 
ophy, cyclopa;dias,  dramas,  romances,  poems,  and  every  component  part  of  a 
very  polite  literature." — P.  311. 

"  The  Japanese  printers  keep  the  market  well  supplied  wth  cheap,  easy 
books,  intended  for  the  instruction  of  children,  or  peojjlo  of  the  poorer  classes. 
Most  of  these  liooks  are  illustrated  and  explained  with  frequent  wood-cuts, 
which  are  engraved  on  the  same  wood-blocks  with  the  type.  Jake  the  Chi- 
nese, they  print  only  on  one  side  of  their  thin  paper.  An  imj)erial  cyclopjcdia, 
printed  at  Miako,  in  the  spiritual  emperor's  palace,  is  copiously  embellished 
with  cuts."  '•  Good  almanacs,  including  the  calculation  of  eclipses,  are  annu- 
ally published  by  the  colleges  of  Jeddo  and  T^Iiako.  It  is  quite  dear  that  they 
are  skilled  In  trigonometry  and  in  some  of  the  best  jjrlnciples  of  civil  engi- 
neering." 

'  Paper  was  introduced  into  Japan  as  early  as  the  seventh  century, 
and  the  ai't  of  printing  was  imported  from  China  ten  hundred  and 
fifty  years  before  its  discovery  in  Europe.  The  alphabet  has  forty- 
eight  letters,  -written  in  two  forms,  corresponding  somewhat  to  our 
printed  and  written  forms.  The  lines  of  letters  run,  like  the 
Chinese,  from  top  to  bottom  of  the  page  ;  and  an  affectation  of  using 
Chinese  words  and  characters  is  rapidly  obscuring  the  clearer 
Japanese  pages. 

The  traditions  of  the  Japanese,  like  those  of  most  ancient  nations, 
trace  their  ancestry  to  the  gods ;  but,  from  the  ordinary  indications 
relied  upon  in  ethnological  investigations,  they  appear  to  have  been 
one  of  the  primitive  colonies  of  the  old  ^longol  race,  emigrating 
along  the  northern  border  of  China  Proper,  and  jjassing  from  the 
peninsula  of  Corea,  from  island  to  island,  until  they  settled  in 
Niphon.  That  they  are  not  of  the  same  race  with  the  Chinese,  is 
shown  not  only  by  the  difference  of  their  written  character,  but  by 
the  peculiar  structure  of  the  language ;  and  the  absence  in  either  lan- 
guage of  consonants  found  in  the  other,  creates  sounds  so  different,  that 
they  seem  to  require  a  different  structure  of  the  organs  of  speech. 
The  purity  of  the  Japanese  tongue  seems  to  indicate  further  that 
they  were  the  first  who  traversed  the  northern  Asiatic  Avildonioss, 
across  which  they  immigrated ;  or  at  least  that  they  remained  too 


290  Japan  and  the  Japanese.  [April, 

short  a  time  in  contact  with  any  tribes  through  Avhicli  they  passed 
to  acquire  even  a  few  of  their  idioms.  For  the  same  reason, 
although  Japanese  historians  confess  that  in  early  days  the  Chinese 
came  over  in  small  colonics,  and  Avith  their  learned  men  introduced 
their  literature  and  their  arts,  yet  it  could  not  have  been  before  the 
native  language  and  literature  had  acquired  an  independent  strength, 
which  could  appropriate  foreign  suggestions  Avithout  being  dena- 
tionalized. 

Emerging  from  the  shadowy  realm  of  fable,  the  first  historical 
personage  in  Japanese  annals  is  Syn-?»lu,  who,  binding  the  barbaric 
clans  under  one  government,  became  the  foundation  at  once  of  the 
kingly  and  priestly  authority  of  the  empire.  Into  this  new  realm 
he  introduced  chronology,  and  the  division  of  the  time  into  years 
and  months,  and  established  the  laws  and  government  of  the  countr}'. 
He  died  after  a  life  of  a  hundred  and  fifty-six  years,  a  mere 
infancy  compared  with  the  chronicled  ages  of  the  celestial  emperors 
in  previous  and  more  etherial  times.  Little  is  chronic'  d,  except  of 
civil  war  and  various  natural  phenomena,  until  the  year  7S  B.  C, 
when  the  people  appear  to  have  passed  more  decidedly  from  the 
shepherd  and  hunting  life  into  agricultural  pursuits;  since  then  first 
they  planted  rice-fields,  and  fenced  them  in  with  ditches,  and  made 
fish-ponds  in  the  interior  of  the  islands.  It  was  about  this  time, 
also,  or  nearly  contcmporar}'-  with  the  advent  of  our  Lord,  that  the 
chronicle  notes  the  first  building  of  merchant  ships  and  ships  of  war. 

These  emperor-priests,  or  Mikados,  ruling  as  direct  vicegerents 
of  the  gods,  theoretically  absolute,  and  adored  with  servile  reverence 
to  their  persons,  and  even  to  their  raiment  and  table- service,  were 
yet,  by  a  strange  retribution  for  their  assumption,  resulting  inciden- 
tally, or  through  the  crafc  of  their  nobility,  gradually  shut  in  from 
exposure  'at  the  head  of  armies,  and  finally  from  all  direct  and 
important  influence  on  any  but  spiritual  affairs.  To  this  day,  his 
lineal  descendant,  confined  in  his  palace  from  his  birth,  lives  and 
dies  in  luxurious  imprisonment.  The  secluded  emperors  encour- 
aged arts  and  sciences,  and  many  of  them  beguiled  the  loneliness  of 
the  royal  prison  b}'  author.^hip  and  literary  patronage.  A  growing 
distaste  for  the  increasingly  irksome  honours  and  confinement  of  the 
palace,  manifested  itself  by  frequent  abdications  and  retirement  to 
religious  contemplation;  but  still  there  were  candidates  enough  for 
the  untried  honours,  and  sanguinary  massacres  of  defeated  factions 
secured  the  throne  to  victorious  rivals.  Lut  as  the  country  became 
civilized,  and  early  superstition  less  controlling,  the  feudal  chieftains 
neglected  the  ancient  claims  of  the  emperor.'^,  and  banded  toiiether 
for  their  independence.     Against  their  conspiracy  the  court  had  no 


.1853.]  Japa7i  and  the  Japanese.  291 

resource,  but  to  entrust  tlic  entire  command  of  its  military  forces  to 
one  promising  young  soldier,  "with  the  title  of  ziogim.  Joritonio 
■vvas  the  Pepin  of  Japan,  lie  took  advantage  of  the  -weakness 
•which  superstition  forced  upon  his  master,  as  the  European  usurper 
of  the  imbecility  of  the  Merovingian  kings.  Only  leaving  the  dairi 
a  control  over  the  spiritual  concerns  of  the  empire,  he  absorbed 
the  entire  secular  control.  Since  then  the  dignity  of  the  ancient 
line  of  emperors  has  degenerated  into  a  mere  honorary  headship 
over  religious  ^worship,  while,  amid  the  luxuries  of  his  palace,  his 
actual  power  is  checked  by  the  surveillance  of  officers  from  the 
secular  court. 

In  the  thirteenth  century  the  Japanese  empire  was  threatened 
with  subjugation  by  the  haughty  Kublai-Khan,  who  had  just  over- 
run China ;  but  the  Providence  that  guards  insular  independence 
shattered  the  immense  armada  of  several  thousand  sail,  and  but 
three  men  only  of  the  vast  host  were  spared,  and  that  only  to  bear 
to  the  khan  the  humiliating  tidings..  The  event  is  important  as 
having  first  given  rise  to  that  national  policy  which  for  nearly  two  hun- 
dred years  prohibited  all  intercourse  with  foreigners.  The  authority 
of  the  emperors  was  more  and  more  absorbed  by  the  zioguns,  and 
successive  abdications  witness  the  conscious  humiliation  of  the 
station.  The  feudal  chiefs  rebelled  again.st  Nobunanga,  the  reigning 
ziogun,  and  the  general  who  defeated  tiio  faction  upon  his  return  to 
the  capital  found  the  throne  occupied  by  a  mere  youth.  It  was  a 
favourable  moment.  The  nobility  were  divided  into  factions,  each 
aiming  at  the  regency  or  the  throne  it.-<elf.  Taiku-Sama,  sweeping 
from  a  distance  upon  the  rival  parfies,  ctuslied  them  both,  and 
installed  himself  the  successor  of  xsobunanga.  He  sent  the  restless 
spirits  who  could  not  be  broken  to  die  in  a  foreign  war.  He  it  was 
who  first  assumed  the  title  as  well  as  the  authority  of  Koboe,  or  lay- 
emperor,  and  who,  according  to  llonnsh  historians,  confounding  the 
Japanese  Christians  with  one  of  tlic  political  factions,  crushed  it 
together  with  them.  The  wise  energy  of  this  great  man  is  still 
felt  through  every  part  of  the  machinery  of  the  empire,  and  for 
three  hundred  years  the  govcrnmeiit  he  moulded  has  directed  and 
controlled  the  progressive  civilization  of  a  people  as  eneregtic  as  the 
Saxon  races  with  as  much  ease  as  it  has  the  stationary  civilization  of 
the  Chinese.  So  firmly  is  the  State  coinjiactcd,  and  its  various  inter- 
ests interlaced,  that  the  Dutch  writrr.s,  who  have  had  best  opportu- 
nity of  observation,  doubt  whether  any  di>:ruption  can  occur  without 
a  quarrel  between  the  lay  and  spiritual  emperors.  There  is  little 
likelihood  of  such  an  occasion,  which  would  arouse  the  religious 
fanaticism  of  i\\Q  people,   so   long  as  the   present   indiHcrency  is 


292  Japan  and  the  Japanese.  [April, 

cultivated,  amid  systems  which  have  no  hold  upon  the  heart.  It  is 
painful  to  reflect,  that  -wliile  the  former  persecutions  were  hast- 
ened, and  aggravated,  hy  an  insolence  and  political  intrigue  foreign 
to  the  vrhole  spirit  of  Christianity,,  yet  the  gospel  must  necessarily 
array  against  its  uncompromising,  though  kind  aggression,  the  whole 
force  of  legalized  superstition.  What  the  worldliness  of  Romanism, 
outrunning  its  first  policy,  accomplished,  that  the  severer  virtues 
and  morals  of  evaugelical  religion  must  effect.  Christianity  has 
never  established  itself  peacefully  in  any  civilized  and  unsubjugated 
nation.  Christendom  has  gro^Yn  v\)  from  barbarism  beneath  the 
nurture  of  a  religion  that  strengthened  in  the  Roman  empire  amid 
perpetual  conflicts,  until  the  civil  po\s-cr  gave  its  seductive  protection. 
The  true  Christianity,  that  draws  no  sword  in  its  aggression,  will 
ever  find  a  sword  drawn  against  it.  It  is  painful  also  to  reflect,  that 
the  peace  of  the  empire  must,  ultimately,  be  broken  in  its  progress 
toward  that  civil  liberty  and  equality,  which  the  literature,  if  not 
the  intercourse,  of  our  countiymcn  must  gradually  excite  among  a 
people  so  civilized  and  so  reflective  as  the  Japanese.  Their  feudal 
age  is  past,  and  the  policy  and  wars  of  Taiko-Sama  have  done  the 
work  of  the  wars  of  the  Roses  and  the  confiscations  of  Henry  the 
Eighth.  The  population  is  generally  educated,  and  the  middle 
classes,  as  we  have  already  shown,  are  wealthy  and  refined.  They 
need  but  the  republican  ideas.  Friendly  as  our  designs  may  be, 
America  must  inevitably  give,  to  Japan  those  elements  of  civil 
discord  which  other  Asiatic  nations  are  not  sufiiciently  civilized  to 
receive,  at  least  for  speedy  germination.  The  progress  of  Christi- 
anity and  the  growth  of  liberty,  everywhere  and  in  Japan,  must  be 
like  the  production  of  her  own  volcanic  islands.  Restless  upheavings 
beneath  the  surfixce  of  society;  the  explosion,  and  rending,  and 
conflict  of  stniggling  elements ;  fire  and  smoke,  leaving  sterility  and 
desolation  to  revolt  the  eye ;  then  the  gi-adual  verdure  and  the 
deepening  soil,  the  protecting  forest  and  the  waving  grain,  happy 
homes  and  pure  altars. 

The  government  of  Japan,  although  in  form  an  absolute  despo- 
tism, is  far  from  being  altogether  arbitrary,  the  ruler  and  the  subject 
being,  in  almost  every  action  of  authority  or  private  life,  alike  under 
the  iron  constraint  of  established  usage.  The  administration  is 
really  conducted  by  a  council  of  thirteen,  selected  from  the  nobility, 
or  holding  office  by  hereditary  right.  Under  this  council,  in  appar 
ently  interminable  gradations,  are  the  other  state  functionaries. 

"  The  digoity  of  the  lay-empcrors  is  inliorilcd  by  tlio  ohlost  of  their  male 
doscenflauts.  In  defuilt  of  male  issue,  tiioy  adept  the  oldi-it  son  of  some 
prince  of  tlie  empire,  who  is  nearest  to  thorn  in  blood.     There  appears  to  be 


1853.]  Japan  and  the  Japanese.  293 

a  head-councillor-of-state,  uith  functions  and  }K)wci-s  corresponding  to  tho^e  of 
the  grand  vizier  in  Turkey.  lie  Is  called  tlic  '  governor  of  the  empire,'  and 
all  the  other  councillors  are  strict!}-  subordinate,  to  hhn.  Xo  public  atlair  of 
any  consequence  can  be  undertaken -without  hlui."  "  The  council  collectively 
have  the  power  of  dethroning  the  lay-enij)cror.  \Vlion  they  adopt  any 
imfwrtant  resolution,  it  is  laid  before  the  eniinTor  for  his  approval.  This  is 
ustially  given,  as  a  matter  of  course,  without  any  delay,  or  inquiry  into  the 
matter.  But  if  by  any  extraordinary  accitlcnt,  lie  slmuld  trouble  himself 
about  the  concerns  of  his  empire,  atteuijjt  to  cxauilne  for  himself,  and  then 
withhold  the  expected  fiat,  the  measure  is  referml  to  the  arbitration  of  three 
princes  of  the  blood,  the  nearest  kindred  of  tlie  numnreh,  and  tlicir  decision 
is  final,  and  very  o<ten  attended  with  melanduily  and  fati\l  clrcunistanoes. 
Should  their  verdict  coincide  with  tlie  sentiments  of  the  council,  the  zioixun 
must  forthwith  abdicate  in  favour  of  his  son,  or  otlier  legal  heir.  This  desj>otic 
sovereign,  as  Europeans  have  considered  him,  ha<  nut,  in  these  state  cases,  the 
liberty  of  retracting  an  opinion. 

"  On  the  otlier  hand,  should  tlie  three  arbitrary  princes  pronounce  the 
monarch  to  be  in  the  right,  and  the  council  in  tlic  Mrong,  the  consequences 
are  still  more  serious.  The  minister  who  ])roposed  tlie  obnoxious  act  must  die 
the  death ;  the  ministers  who  most  warmly  seeondml  him  must  frequently  die 
also ;  and,  occasionally,  all  the  members  of  tiie  council,  whh  the  vizier  or 
governor  of  the  empire  at  t'aeir  head,  must  rlj>  open  their  bowels.  Under 
such  responsibility,  men  must  be  little  disposed  to  attempt  new  laws,  or  any 
sort  of  innovation." — Pp.  200,  203. 

But  in  the  hands  of  the  administration,  thus  balanced  A^-ithin 
itself,  the  centralization  of  power  is  complete.  The  vassal  princes 
are  indeed  nominally  independent,  but,  ■with  ironical  kindness,  ihe 
court  appoints  to  each  two  ■\vell-qualirie<I  secretaries,  who  reside 
alternately  in  the  province  and  at  court.  This  double  appointment 
extends  to  every  office  of  any  importance ;  and  _by  the  continual 
change,  subservience  to  the  government  i.-^  secured.  Every  official  is 
held  responsible  for  the  conduct  of  all  his  subordinates,  and,  in 
making  its  requisitions,  the  law  has  a  Napoleonic  ignorance  of 
impossibilities.  A  few  years  since,  when  the  British  frigate  Sama- 
rang  stopped  at  Nangasaki,  and,  heedless  of  the  puny  junks  around 
her,  suddenly  left,  the  law  was  broken  which  commands  the  goveiiior 
of  the  harbour  to  permit  no  strange  visitor  to  leave  it  imtll  the  court 
gives  permission.  As  morning  revealed  the  deserted  harbour,  the 
governor  and  all  his  officials  retired,  and  with  their  knives  made 
the  fatal  abdominal  gash ;  and  the  governor  of  the  province,  although 
at  Jeddo,  the  capital  itself  more  than  a  hundred  miles  distant,  was 
imprisoned  for  one  hundred  days.  But  the  most  effective  stroke  of 
policy  is  that  which  requires  the  family  of  every  important  official, 
from  the  great  lords  down  to  the  lower  civil  and  military  governors. 
to  reside  at  the  capital,  perpetual  ho.-,tagcs  for  their  fidelity.  No 
man,  moreover,  may  refuse  the  appointment  of  a  secret  spy,  and 
this  organization  of  secret  police  is  ramified  down  to  the  private 
relations  cf  families.     Everv  five  houses  in  a  village  forms  a  com- 


294  Japan  and  the  Japanese.  [April, 

mune,  for  the  good  conduct  of  -vvliicli  the  liead  of  a  sixth  iamily  is 
responsible.  jS^o  family  can  remove  -without  a  written  certificate  of 
good  conduct,  from  the  nei^^libourhood  it  leaves,  and  an  express  per- 
mission from  the  one  it  enters.  Every  street  in  a  city  has  its 
special  superintendent.  And  thus  the  Japanese  government, 
ubiquitous,  omniscient,  relentless,  and  Anclding  all  human  motives 
in  their  intensest  power,  appears  to  have  realized  the  ideal  of  des- 
potism, to  which  Austria  and  Italy  have  so  long  aspired. 

Notwithstanding  this  minute  and  unsparing  system,  which,  more- 
over, makes  death  the  common  penalty  on  the  ground  that  death 
alone  comes  with  equal  punitive  severity  to  rich  and  poor  alike,  the 
Japanese  are  of  frank,  manly  bearing,  and  high-spirited  and  generous 
in  disposition.  It  will  be  remembered  that  the  laws  do  not  affect 
religious  liberty  :  and  the  long  seclusion  of  the  empire,  and  the 
absence  of  disputes  as  to  regal  succession,  and  of  popular  demands 
for  representation,  exclude  the  occasions  for  that  political  vengeance 
which  gives  to  Europe  a. reign  of  terror.  Most  of  the  laws  are 
merely  an  authoritative  expression  of  the  conclusions  of  experience 
as  to  agricultural,  commercial,  and  economical  expediency.  The 
old  laws  axe  old  usages,  into  which  each  generation  grows  up. 
The  new  edicts,  brief  and  without  explanation  or  penalty  affixed, 
are  posted  along  the  roads,  and  pernianentl}'  in  the  public  halls  of 
villages  and  cities,  and.  as  nearly  every  one  can  read,  all  knoAV  the 
law  at  once.  Where  detection  is  inevitable  and  punishment  so 
severe,  crime  has  hardly  any  motive  or  hope.  A  merchant  loads 
his  oxen  with  richest  treasure'  and  drives  them  unguarded  over  any 
road,  and  with  every  exposure  theft  is  almost  unknown. 

It  is  a  part  of  the  government  })olicy  to  exhaust  the  revenues  of  the 
nobility  by  heavy  taxes  upon  their  old  established  incomes,  and  thus, 
while  its  resources  are  immense,  there  is  no  direct  taxation  or 
impost  to  burden  or  disaflcct  the  people.  The  nobility  are  also 
bound  to  equip  and  maintain  a  contingent  of  permanent  troops, 
while  the  entire  population  is  under  an  organized  militia  system. 
The  soldiery  still  use  the  primitive  armour,  adopted  before  the 
introduction  of  gunpovv'der,  and  with  this  the  match-lock  and 
heavy  artillery,  such  as  Avas  first  introduced.  A  peace  of  two 
hundred  years,  and  the  absence  of  any  improvement  in  arms,  or 
instruction  in  scientific  engineering,  have  left  them  without  any 
proper  tactics ;  but  the  military  are  said  to  be  hardy,  chivalrous, 
and  implicitly  obedient. 

The  religion  which  is  now  considered  the  national  faith  of  Japan, 
although  it  was,  doubtless,  preceded  by  rude  forms,  is  called  Rinsyn, 
from  the  words  sin  (the  gods)  and  syn  (faith),  and  its  votaries  arc 


1 853.]  Japan  and  the  Japanese.  295 

denominated  Sintoos.  The  Japancso  mythology,  like  most  others, 
vaguely  shado-ws  out  the  rise  of  the  earth  from  cliaos,  and  its  sub- 
jection to  various  influences  or  deities,  and  finally  committed  to  the 
especial  charge  of  the  sun  goddess,  Ten-sio-dai-zin,  ^vhose  reign 
was  only  two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  years.  She  was  succeeded 
by  terrestrial  gods,  who  reigned  in  all  about  two  million  years,  tlie 
last  of  whom  left  upon  earth  a  son  by  a  mortal  mother,  the  ancestor 
of  the  long  line  of  spiritual  emperors. 

"  Of  all  these  gods  of  Slutoo  mythoIo_'y,  none  sooni  to  be  objects  of  great 
worsliip,  except  the  sun  goddess ;  and  .-he  is  too  great  to  be  addressed  in 
prayer,  except  tlirough  the  mediatiou  of  the  inferior  ICanii,  or  of  her  lineal 
descendant,  the  ^likado.  The  Kami  coIl^isth.  of  four  hundred  and  ninetv-two 
born  gods,  and  frro  thousand  si.x  hundred  and  forty  canonized  or  deiiieil 
mortals.  All  these  are  niediatorv  spirits,  and  h;ive  temples  dedicated  to  them." 
—Pp.  173,  174. 

"According  to  Dr.  Siebold,  the  Sinto..<  ];.-x\e  some  vague  norion  of  the 
immortaHty  of  the  soul,  of  a  future  state  of  existence,  of  rewards  and  punish- 
ments, of  a  paradise,  and  of  a  \\v\\.  '  Cele.-tial  judges  call  every  one  to  his 
account.  To  the  good  is  allotted  paradise,  and  tliey  enter  the  realms  of  the 
Kami;  the  wicked  are  condemned,  and  thni-t  into  hell.'  The  dunes  enjoined 
by  this  ancient  religion  are: — 1.  rreservalion  of  pure  hre,  as  the  emblem 
of  purity  and  means  of  puriiicatiou.  2.  I'uiity  of  soul,  heart,  and  bod  v. 
The  puiity  of  the  soul  is  to  be  ]ire.-er\cd  by  a  .^Irict  obedience  to  reason 
and  the  law  ;  the  purity  of  the  body,  by  ab-t.-siiiinir  tVom  everything  that  defiles. 
3.  An  exact  observance  of  festival  days.  i.  riigrimage.  5.  The  worship  of 
the  Kami,  both  at  the  temples  and  at  hou:r.'* — i'p.  ITJi,  ]  7C. 

The  temples  had  formerly  no  idol,  nor  object  of  worship,  but  cnlv 
a  large  mirror,  said  to  be  the  emblem  of  purit}-.  and  strips  of  white 
paper,  called  gohei,  having  the  same  siguiiication.  In  many  of  the 
Sintoo  temples  the  images  of  the  Kami  are  said  to  be  kept  concealed. 
except  on  festival  occasions,  and  never  to  be  worshipped.  Private 
families  keep  an  image  of  their  Kami,  or  housohold  god.  A  great 
feature  in  their  ceremonial  religion  is  a  careful  avoidance  of  impurity 
from  contact  with  blood,  even  of  the  worshipper's  own  body,  or  from 
eating  the  flesh  of  any  quadruped  and  of  almost  any  bird.  Contact 
with  the  dead,  accidentally  or  at  funerals,  and  even  the  death  of  a 
near  relation,  defiles  and  excludes  from  the  tcinjiles.  Fasting,  prayer. 
and  the  study  of  devotional  books,  arc  the  prescribed  means  of 
ptirification.  When  purified,  thf7  throw  aside  the  robes  of  mourning, 
which  are  of  white,  and  return  to  socit  ty  in  festal  garments. 

"But  pilgrimage  is  the  grand  and  n:  i.~t  sanctifying  act  of  Sintco  devorion. 
There  are  no  fewer  than  twenty-two  .-liiiui.-s  in  dificrent  parts  of  tb.e  empire. 
which  are  frequented  annually,  or  more  freiiiuiitly,  by  the  devout.  The  m.  -: 
conspicuous,  and  most  honoured  of  all — tlu-  very  Lorrtto  of  the  Japanese — is 
Isye,  with    its  ancient  temple  of  Ten-sio-<lai-zin,  or   the  sun  gotldess.     T'le 

Krincipal  temple  is  sunv»unded  by  nearly  a  Iiuudred  small  ones,  whioh  have 
ttle  else  of  a  temple  than  tlie  mere  >\k\\k\  being,  for  the  mo?t  ]>art,  .-^  low 
and  narrow,  that  a  man  can  scarcely  stand  r.p  in  theui.  Kai-h  of  the-c  t<nip'»-;. 
or  chapels,  is  attended  by  a  priest."     "  The  principal  temple  it;-.c!t'  is  a  \<  "v 


296  Japan  and  the  Japanese.  [April, 

plain,  unpretending  cclificc,  .ind  evidently  of  great  antiquity,  though  not  quite 
so  old  as  the  priests  and  devotees  pretend.  Aoeording  to  the  latter,  the  sun 
goddess  was  born  in  it  and  dwelt  in  it;  and  on  that  aeeount  it  has  never  been 
enlarged,  improved,  or  in  any  way  altered." — P.  179. 

This  pilgrimage  is  considered  a  duty  of  every  good  citizen  of 
whatever  secondary  creed,  as  a  tribute  of  gratitude  to  the  sun 
goddess,  the  founder  and  protectress  of  the  Japanese  nation.  The 
emperors  formerly  went  in  person;  but,  from  motives  of  economy 
and  convenience,  now  send  an  embassy  -with  presents.  The  nobility 
follo-u"  the  example.  But  the  roads,  during  the  pleasant  season,  are 
thi'ouged  Avith  pilgrims  of  every  rank,  travelling  according  to  their 
Avealth,  or  begging  their  vray ;  and  the  poor  strangers  have  their 
names  worked  into  their  coats,  or  painted  on  their  drinking  pails, 
in  order  that,  in  case  of  accident,  it  may  be  known  who  they  are. 
"Well  may  the  votaries  throng  the  avenues  to  Isye,  for  there  may  ih.Qy 
purchase  the  '•  offarria,"  or  "  capital  purification,"  which,  with  even 
more  prodigality  of  blessing  than  relics  from  the  new  shrine  to  which 
the  good  bishop  of  Ypres  is  inviting  us,  insure  "  health,  prosperity, 
and  children  in  this  icorkl,  and  a  happy  state  in  the  world  to  come." 
With  great  consideration  also  for  those  who  cannot  conveniently 
leave  home,  large  quantities  of  these  magical  cards  are  kept  on  hand 
by  the  priests,  and.  for  a  var^^ing  consideration,  scattered  like  leaves 
of  balm  to  wounded  consciences  throughout' the  empire.  There  are 
countries  where,  if  genuine  llomanism  cannot  recommend  itself 
by  any  high  and  unknown  spirituality,  it  at  least  presents  a  more 
available  system  for  quieting  the  conscience,  and  securing  the 
formalities  of  worship.  But  Sintooism  has  its  "  mother  of  God " 
and  its  angelic  and  canonized  Kami  as  submxdiators,  its  supreme 
vicegerent  of  heaven  at  Miaco,  its  ceremonial  purifications,  its 
pilgrimages,  its  anchorites  and  monastic  orders,  and  its  plenar}' 
absolutions.  May  it  not  yet  appear  that  to  a  practical  mind,  like 
Taiku-Sama's,  feeling  innovation  unwise  unless  it  introduced  some 
new  idea,  Romanism,  apart  from  its  political  intrigues,  seemed 
entirely  superfluous,  either  as  to  morals  or  convenience  ?  May  it 
not  be  the  secret  of  that  perfect  finish,  which  astonishes  us  in  the 
European  Romanism,  that  it  was  not  the  first  attempt  of  its  author, 
but  a  more  complete  realization  of  his  idea,  acquired  by  practice 
on  an  Asiatic  model  ? 

The  monastic  orders  are  of  eitlier  se.v,  none  of  them  confined  to 
religious  houses,  and  with  very  little  profession  of  religious  snnctity. 
They  somewhat  resemble  the  mendicant  friar,  but  have  closer  alliances 
to  the  Eastern  dervish.  One  order  of  blind  Fekis  make  their  living 
honestly,  as  musicians,     AVith  most  unmonastic  wisdom,  neither  sex 


1853.1  Japan  and  the  Japariese.  297 

of  Fekis  take  upon  them  the  vow  of  cliastitj;  the  monks  being- 
mostly  bound  in  marriage,  the  nuns  being  not  in  bondage  to  any 
man.  ISevertholess,  tliese  sisters  arc  said  to  be  modestly  clad,  and 
of  staid  demeanour,  mostly  the  aycII- favoured  daughters  of  the 
Jammabos  or  mountain  monks,  and  that,  unlike  the  dancing  girls 
of  the  Orient,  they  observe  much  propriety  in  making  their  appeal? 
to  the  heart  of  the  wealthy  traveller.  < 

The  most  prevalent  religion  of  Japan  at  this  time,  however,  is 
Buddhism,  Avith  its  leading  doctrines  of  metempsychosis,  of  final 
purgation,  and  absorption  into  the  divine  essence.  It  has  many  and 
uncouth  idols,  and  its  priests  arc  bound  to  celibacy.  The  date  of 
its  introduction  is  uncertain,  but  appears  to  have  been  about  the  sixth 
century.  There  are  now  probably  twenty  liuddhist  temples  for  every 
Sintoo  one.  "  In  Japan,  as  in  every  other  country  where  it  exists. 
Buddhism  is  divided  into  a  high,  pure,  mystic  creed,  for  the  learned, 
and  a  gross  idolatry  for  the  unlearned  and  common  people." 

There  is  another  creed  called  "  Suto,"  or  "  The  way  of  the 
philosophers."  Its  votaries  arc  the  free-thinkers  of  Japan,  rejecting 
all  mythologies  and  all  forms  of  worship,  and  holding  merely  those 
great  truths  of  natural  religion,  Avhich  have  ever  commended  them- 
selves to  the  cultivated  heathen  mind,  as  it  breaks  the  fetters  of  early 
and  traditional  superstitions.  Like  the  ]ihiiosophic  schools  of  classic 
ages,  they  yield  only  so  far  to  popular  forms  as  courtesy  and  personal 
security  demand,  while  at  heart  they  despise  such  superstition. 
The  cast  of  this  philosophy  is  Ijuddhist.  The  all-pervading,  all- 
absorbing  Spirit,  from  vrhich  we  came,  to  uliich  Ave  go,  is  alone  to  be 
thanked,"or  acknowledged.  Some  admit  a  personal  and  immaterial 
Deity,  lying  far  back,  however,  from  any  connexion  with  the  agencies 
that  rule  this  world,  which  is  the  result  of  various  contending  or  co- 
operating principles.  In  Japan  there  is  probably  a  larger  proportion 
of  educated  citizens  than  in  any  otlier  heathen  country,  and  the 
nobility,  the  literati,  and  the  entire  upper  class,  may  be  considered 
as  atheists,  or  deists. 

The  period  of  suspense,  while  the  world  is  waiting  to  sec  hoAV  soon 
this  compact  and  highly-civili/.ed  empire,  the  Great  Britain  of  the 
Eastern  Avorld,  is  tolake  her  place  aiuong  the  nations  Avhosc  power 
is  felt  around  the  globe,  is  a  season  which  the  Church  might  well 
improve,  in  pondering  more  fully  the  religious  consequences  arising 
from  the  rapidly-increasing  moral  inllueiice  of  these  new  pagan 
associations.  The  Church  must  Ch^i^tlaniv:e  the  heathen,  or  they 
will  heathenize  the  Church.  The  time  has  been,  when  nation  dwelt 
beside  nation,  and.  except  a  narrow  borJer  land,  each  could  cherish 
its  own  social  and  religious  faith  and  habits,  as  though  no  others 
Fourth  Series,  Vol.  Y.— U> 


298  Japan  and  the  Japanese.  [April, 

•had  existence.  Time  has  been  when  national  influence  ^-as  merely 
the  power  of  the  throne  or  the  senate,  wielded  by  an  arm  of  force. 
Commerce,  with  its  lure  of  interest,  and  its  peaceful  facilities  of 
intercourse,  is  bringing  the  nations  together,  like  adjacent  townships, 
each  traversed  by  the  other's  citizens,  and  each  familiar  with  the 
institutions  and  affected  by  the  sentiments  of  all.  Education,  as  it 
brings  to  over}'  individual  mind  a  capacity  to  receive  and  cherish 
new  ideas,  brings  also  to  each  mind  a  power  to  give  forth  its  thought ; 
and  nations,  from  whose  inert  mass  a  few  learned  men  only,  like  salient 
points,  gave  cut  the  electric  thought  to  as  few  agahi,  now  vibrate 
with  the  galvanism  of  millions  of  thinking  minds,  and  each  heart 
pulsates  to  every  heart  besides.  Literature,  as  the  expression  of 
thought,  in  its  wide  and  cheap  diffusion,  will  yet  more  make  the 
world  a  whispering  gallery,  where  every  new  idea  that  speaks  is 
heard  by  all;  and  arts,  and  sciences,  and  opinions,  Avill  converge 
towards  a  common  unity.  These  tendencies  are  apparent  in  the 
Avestern  hemisphere,  and  now  strange  peoples  of  the  East  are  crowding 
in  to  share  the  mutual  influence  and  the  common  destiny.  Through 
the  long-prepared  channels  of  literature  and  education  in  China 
and  Japan,  the  resources  of  European  knowledge  and  sentiment, 
which  have  welled  up  so  slowly  for  long  centuries,  and  scarcely  inter- 
mingled, may  now  be  at  once  poured,  as  from  a  reservoir,  throughout 
the  Asiatic  life  and  thought.  The  strength  and  suddenness  of  the 
reaction  must  be  proportionate.  And  these  new  powers  are  not 
only  social  or  intellectual  agencies ;  but  they  are  tremendous  moral 
forces,  for  or  against  the  truth.  It  is  true  that,  within  the  huge 
systems  of  Oriental  idolatry,  the  unnoticed  thought,  like  the  tropical 
ant,  has  eaten  away  all  strength  and  substance,  and  at  one  resolute 
touch  of  science  or  philosophy  they  sink  away  to  nothingness. 
But  where  they  stood,  sprea^ls  the  blank  waste  of  Atheism.  The 
energetic  civilization  that  shall  trample  idolatry  under  foot,  will,  left 
to  itself,  make  a  continent  of  infidels.  And  that  continent  will  not 
lie  for  centuries  to  come,  as  in  centuries  gone  b}-,  secluded,  like 
another  planet.  It  is,  henceforth,  part  of  the  common  homestead 
of  one  great  family. 

Hitherto  the  nations  have  been,  like  isolated  lakes,  unaffected  by 
each  other's  fluctuations  or  condition ;  but  then  all  barriers  will  be 
swept  away,  and  opinion  and  sentiment  of  every  kind  become  one  vast 
world-wide  ocean,  every  section  of  Avhich  feels  the  tides  and  the 
storms,  and  affects  the  purity  and  the  safety  of  every  square  league 
upon  its  surface.  xVnd  how,  in  this  last  and  fearful  crisis,  shall  a  pure 
faith  and  devotion  predominate?  Hitherto  the  evil  influences  have 
assailed  us,  and  been  defeated,  in  detail ;  but  then  each  individual 


1853.1  Japan  and  the  Japanese.  299 

heart,  in  conscious  or  unconscious  cooperation  with  all  others,  must 
decide  the  question;  as  much  as  though  the  blessed  air  had  no 
natural  provision  for  preserving  its  purity,  and  while  everr  healthful 
frame  returned  its  breath  pure  as  it  was  dr;uvn,  cverv  diseased  system 
exhaled  a  poisonous  vapour  into  the  counnon  atmosphere.  Is  the 
moral^  atmosphere  of  om-  own  Christian  land  tainted,  even  now,  by. 
the  still  checked  vices  and  social  habits,  the  private  opinions  and  the 
public  literature,  of  emigrants  from  the  realms  of  formalism  and 
infidelity?  Is  the  increasing  proximity  of  Europe,  as  it  invites 
mutual  exchanges  of  residence  and  constant  travel,  and  places  us 
in  the  very  presence  of  all  her  intellectual  and  practical  evils, 
a  cause  of  deep  solicitude  to  the  Christian  ?  Has  the  strong  army  of 
Mormonism,  the  ^Mohammedanism  of  the  nineteenth  centuiy,  located 
itself  where  its  shameless  iniquities  must  radiate  impiety  over  the 
continent?  And  shall  the  Church,  amid  the  gathering  darkness 
of  the  western  hemisphere,  pass  lightly  by  the  question  whether 
from  the  vast  Eastern  world  the  winds  shall  waft  a  gloom  more 
dense  and  oppressive?  Passing  by  the  possibility  'of  coercive 
measures  against  evangelical  religion,  how  likely  will  "the  Church  be 
to  keep  her  children,  and  win  the  stranger  to  her  fold?  The  Church 
of  God  will,  it  is  true,  never  die  out.  Deep  in  the  recesses  of  that 
spiritual  temple  abides  the  Holy  One  of  Israel.  Bulwarks  and 
towers  may  fall  beneath  proud  assaults,  or  sink  into  secret  mines ; 
court  after  court  may  be  given  up  or  profaned ;  but,  as  the  impious 
tread  of  power,  and  learning,  and  wealth,  intrudes  upon  the  last 
and  inner  sanctuary,  a  fire  goes  out  to  devour  the  adversaries.  *But 
the  long  experience  of  the  Church,  from  the  time  when  Elijah 
mourned  the  triumph  of  corrupting  heathenism,  up  throucrh  each 
successive  reverse  and  apparent  extinction  of  the  holy'nation, 
crushed  beneath  influences  Avhich  a  watclifnl  and  energetic  piety 
might  have  foreseen  and  averted,  warns  us,  tliat  if  worldliness,  and 
luxury,  and  dreamy  inactivity,  shall  keep  I-rael  from  heroic  efforts 
to  subdue  nation  after  nation  as  God  leads  on  the  camp  to  the  world's 
broad  heritage,  it  is  entirely  in  the  order  of  his  providence  to  let 
the  unholy  people  be  "  thorns  in  her  sides,  and  their  gods  be  a  snare," 
and  the  Church  be  taught,  in  generations  of  bondage,  the  lessons 
she  would  not  learn  in  freedom.  \Ve  mu^t  Christianize  the  heathen, 
or  they  will  lieathenize  the  Church.'  Just  in  proportion  to  our 
dereliction  abroad  will  be  our  retribution  at  home. 

The  opening  of  free  commercial  and  social  intercourse  with  Japan 
is  hardly  to  be  anticipated  from  the  American  expedition ;  and  however 
desirable  such  an  event  may  be.  the  public  sentiment  of  this  country 
should  at  once  repel  the  proposition  to  force  an  intimacy.     The 


300  Japan  and  the  Japanese.  [April, 

official  documents,  issued  by  the  i^overnment  at  Washiugton,  had 
disclaimed  the  thou^^ht  of  compelling  anythin;;  more  than  relief  to 
our  distressed  mariners,  until  tlie  last  report  of  the  Secretarj'of  War 
insinuated,  a  purpose,  or  at  least  a  theory  to  justify  a  purpose,  of 
coercing  intercourse.  The  several  objects  -wliich  are  desirable  are 
jcntirely  distinct.  The  moral  right  of  a  traveller,  be-\vildered  among 
the  snow-drifts,  to  kind  treatment  and  shelter  from-  the  home- 
stead upon  Avhich  he  stumbles,  is  very  different  from  a  pedler  s  right 
to  enter  the  premises  and  insist  upon  barter.  The  demand  of  a 
supply  of  coal  for  the  steam-n)arine,  -which  must  crowd  the  Pacific 
within  a  few  years,  is  also  distinct  in  principle  from  a  claim  to  general 
commercial  privileges.  The  opening  of  highways,  railroads,  canals, 
and  all  the  great  avenues  of  rapid  and  safe  communication  between 
the  different  sections  of  the  globe,  has  bccomQ  a  necessity  like  that 
of  easy  intercourse  between  tlie  separate  communities  of  each  state. 
The  ocean  is  the  highway  of  nations,  and  although  the  facilities  of 
navigation  require  expense  in  the  vehicle  instead  of  the  road,  the 
same  principles  apply  to  either  case.  The  world,  as  one  great  state. 
may  demand  that  whatever  is  absolutely  necessary  for  the  common 
highway  shall  not  be  withheld  by  any  local  law.  It  may  not  be  land, 
or  stone  for  macadamizing,  but  the  mineral  without  which  the  other- 
wise open  road  is  comparatively  useless,  which  must  be  yielded  at 
a  fair  remuneration.  This  great  essential  ma}-  be  furnished  by  Japan 
without  permitting  foreign  intercourse  with  the  main  islands,  if  a 
suggestion  of  the  late  lamented  Secretary  of  State  were  adopted,  and 
Japanese  junks  conveyed  the  coal  to  a  depot  upon  one  of  the  small 
southern  islands.  The  other  products  of  .Japan  are  not  thus  neces- 
sary to  the  progress  of  general  civilization.  An  able  Avritcr  in  a 
recent  number  of  the  Edinburgh  llcview  broaches  the  aggressive 
theory  unblushlngly : — 

"  Evciy  one  i^  so  far  UKi.ilor  at  Iiouk-  lliat  tlio  law  of  nations  has  hitherto  been 
very  tender  of  autliorizin;^  a  coimiry  U)  liprn.-  its  eoninierce  or  society  upon 
another.  But  llio  ricrlits  of  indopmiU-nt  snv('rei;inty  must  be  so  construed  as 
to  be  reconcilable  -vvitli  the  crreat  ])riiK-i|)li's  upon  which  all  titles  of  property 
or  jurisilirtlou  ultimately  rk-pcud.  It  is  ditileult  to  entertain  a  doubt  that, 
after  .<o  Inug  ami  so  jKitleiit  a  delay,  other  nations  are  justilicd  in  demandinji- 
intercouise  with  Japan,  as  a  riuht  of  -which  they  arc  nnjustly  de]irived. 
The  Japanese,  undoubtedly,  have  an  oxclusive  rlirht  to  the  possession  of  their 
territory ;  biU  they  nuist  not  abuse  the  right  to  the  extent  of  debarring  all 
other  nations  from  a  jjarticipation  in  its  riches  and  virtues.  The  only  sceni-e 
title  to  pi-operty,  -^vh(•the^  it  be  a  hovel  or  an  empire,  is,  that  the  exclusi-\c 
possession  of  one  is  for  the  benefit  of  all." 

A  truly  British  theory  of  political  morals !  A  v.ise  policy  it  may 
be  for  a  nation  whose  supremacy,  even  over  her  own  provinces,  depends 
upon  an  extending  market  for  the  manufactures  of  her  island  throne. 


1653.]  Exegesis  of  Hebrews  u,  16.  301 

Carried  a  little  further,  it  obviates  at  least  the  moral  obstacle  to  the 
obtrusion  of  her  free-trade  system  u))on  ourselves.  The  single 
element  of  truth  in  the  proposition  consists  in  the  principle  above 
stated  in  regard  to  the  essentials  of  general  safety  and  ^velfare, 
and  this  applies  to  no  other  product  of  .Inpan.  A  sense  of  injustice, 
and  desire  of  avoiding  the  civil  commotion  consequent  upon  an 
invasion,  may  induce  the  Japanese  council  to  accede  to  the  claims  of 
humanity  ami  necessity;  but  that  policy  which  is  not,  as  the  report 
of  the  Secretary  of  War  intimates,  "  an  Oriental  sentiment,  hardened 
by  the  usage  and  habit  of  ccntm-ies,"  but  the  fruit  of  bitter  experience 
of  betrayed  hospitality,  cannot  be  abruptly  or  lightly  yielded. 
Japan  has  only  a  coasting  commerce,  easily  transferred  to  inland 
conveyances.  Her  shores  are  protected  by  alternate  Avails  of  rock, 
and  shoals  stretching  far  out  and  keei)ing  large  vessels  beyond  gun- 
shot of  most  of  her  sea-board  cities.  Any  extensive  or  permanent 
inroads  upon  a  brave  people,  numbering  more  than  the  present 
population  of  the  United  States,  crowded  into  the  three  main  islands 
as  into  a  fort,  are  out  of  the  (juestion.  For  the  sake  of  justice 
and  future  brotherhood,  and  above  all  for  the  sake  of  religion,  -which, 
as  distinguished  from  Romanism,  may  yet  evangelize  Japan,  we 
trust  that  the  American  people,  or  at  least  the  American  Church, 
will  sanction  no  movement  towards  compulsory  intercourse. 


Art.  VIL— exegesis  OF  IIKHREWS  ii,  16. 

The  original  of  this  passage  reads  thus  :~ 

Ov  ■)«p  6/]~ov  dyyeXwi'  i-i/Miii^iivcrut,  u/./.d  o-K(;>iiaToq  WfiQaaii 
t~iXau!3dverai. 

The  received  version  of  those  word.=?  is  as  follows: — "For  verily 
he  took  not  on  him  the  nature  of  angels,  but  he  took  on  him  the  seed 
of  Abraham.'* 

The  controversy  in  regard  to  this  place  has  reference  chiefly  to 
the  sense  of  e-iXau^dvemi,  which  our  translators  understand  as 
meaning  to  take  upon  one's  self,  or  to  assume ;  namely,  that  Christ 
in  the  work  of  redem})tion  assumetl  not  the  nature  of  angels,  but 
assumed  humanity,  and  with  tliis  nature  came  into  the  world.  In 
this  opinion  "Wesley,  Buxtorf,  Poddridge,  <S:(:.,  concur.  On  the  other 
hand,  Benson,  Clarke,  Bloornfiold,  and  others,  understand  this  verb 
as  signifying  here  to  take  in  the  sense  of  succouring  or  savins:;  and 
hence  the  interpretation  they  give  to  the  passage  is,  that  Christ  did 


302  Exegesis  of  Hebrews  W,  \Q.  [April, 

not  save  angels,  but  saved  the  human  race.*     Both  doctrines  are 
true.     The  question  is,  Which  of  them  is  taught  in  this  text? 

In  view  of  the  following  considerations,  the  mind  of  the  writer 
settles  down  coiifiilently  in  favour  of  the  former  of  these  iuterpi-eta- 
tions,  and,  of  course,  in  opposition  to  the  latter. 

1.  The  dcfmition  of  l-i/MUiSdverai.  True,  this  is  not  decisive. 
This  middle  verb,  in  the  oS'ew  Testament,!  signifies  to  take:  for 
what  purpose,  can  only  be  determined  by  the  connexion.  It  may  be 
for  the  purpose  of  succouring,  as  in  Matt,  xiv,  31 ;  or  for  the  purpose 
of  imprisoning,  as  in  Acts  xxi,  33;  or  it  may  mean  take  in  order  to 
hold  or  detain  for  one's  self, — i.  e.,  to  accomplish  one's  own  ends  by 
the  thing  taken, — as  1  Tim.  vi,  12, 19.  It  should  be  remarked,  how- 
ever, that  the  last-named,  or  reflexive  meaning,  is  the  characteristic 
meaning  of  the  verb  in  the  middle  form.  So  far,  then,  as  the  defini- 
tion of  the  word  determines  anything,  it  is  strongly  in  fa^•our  of  the 
received  text. 

This  view  is  much  confirmed  by  the  parallel  passage  in  Phil,  ii,  7: 
"And  took  upon  him  (Aa/3c^r)  the  form  of  a  servant."  Here  the 
idea  of  assumption  is  imdoubted,  yet  the  radical  expresses  that  idea 
less  distinctly  than  the  compound  verb. 

2.  To  use  this  verb  here  in  the  sense  of  taking  hold  of  to  save, 
diverts  the  mind  from  the  main  point  in  view  in  this  chapter,  which 
is,  not  the  relative  nature  that  Christ  saved,  but  the  relative  nature 
which  he  assumed.  The  first  chapter  of  Hebrews  is  devoted  to  the 
divine,  the  second  to  the  human  nature  of  Christ.  In  the  latter  we 
are  informed  that  the  manhood  of  Christ  was  predicted  ;t.  that  it 
-v\-as  necessary  to  assume  this  nature  in  order  to  effect  the  ends  of 
his  advent  ;§  and  particularly  that  these  ends  required  identity  of 
nature  between  the  Saviour  and  the  saved,  "  the  sanctifier  and  the 
6anctified."i|  And  now  it  is  in  the  midst  of  this  train  of  argument 
that  the  sixteenth  verse  is  introduced,  and  very  appropriately,  if  the 
sense  of  the  common  version  is  adopted — that  Christ  took  not  on 
him  the  nature  of  angels,  but  of  men.  \Yhereas  to  stop  here,  and 
state  that  Christ  saved  men  in  contradistinction  to  angels,  were 
entirely  foreign  to  the  writer's  purpose,  and  inteiTupts  the  tenor  of 
remark  to  lug  in  a  thought  which  is  not  suggested  either  before  or 
afterwards  in  any  jiart  of  the  epistle. 

3.  Again,  it  must  be  home  in  mind  tliat  it  is  of  the  liohj  angels 

^TLey,  of  course,  api'i-ovo  tlie  rcii'loiln;,'  pivou  in  the  mai-gui  of  cm-  English 
T'olyglott.  viz.,  "Ho  tiikutli  not  hoM  of  aiKrl-,  hut  of  the  seed  of  Abraham  ho 
takoth  hold." 

t  Aud  so,  too,  in  cla?:^io  Greek.  §  Verses  10,  1  i,  1.3. 

X  Verses  C,  (comp.  9,)  12,  13.  |i  Verses  11,  1,2,  U  lo. 


1853.]  Exegesis  of  Hebrews  n,  16.  303 

that  Paul  is  Lere  speaking.  ludeod,  the  fallen  ansrels,  or  devils,  are 
neycr.  1  think,  spoken  of  in  Scripture  by  the  simple  appellative, 
angels.  "When  this  term  refers  to  them,  there  is  ahvajs  some  ad- 
junct, or  explanatory  Vi"ord,  distinctly  indicating  such  reference.-'"' 

But,  furthermore,  evil  angels  cannot  be  meant  here,  because  the 
■writer  has  all  along  defined  himself  as  speaking  of  holy  aiigels.  He 
has  said  much  of  "  angels"  in  this  and  tlic  preceding  chapter,  intro- 
ducing that  term  no  less  than  ten  times,  but  in  every  case  referring 
indisputably  to  good  angels.  And  nuw  to  suppose  that,  in  imme- 
diate conne.xion  with  all  this,  the  apostle  ^\•ould  use  the  same  term  in 
an  opposite  sense,  meaning  not  good  ongels  but  devils,  and  that,  too, 
without  any  word  or  phrase  notifying  us  of  such  change,  is  utterly 
improbable  and  absurd.  But  if  good  angels  arc  meant,  then  the 
version  we  oppose  is  perfectly  ntigatory ;  for  then  that  version  makes 
the  apostle  say  that  Christ  did  not  take  hold  of  the  holy,  unfallen 
angels  to  save  them ;  i.  e.,  did  not  save  beings  that  were  never  lost, 
and  therefore  did  not  need  saving,  and  indeed  could  not  be  saved 
In  other  words,  it  presents  Paul  as  expressing  a  truism  too  childish 
to  be  uttered  by  any  writer,  inspired  or  uninspired.  Whereas,  to  say 
that  Christ,  in  his  mediatorial  work,  assumed  the  human  in  prefer- 
ence to  the  angelic  nature,  and  in  tlie  same  connexion  give  the 
reasons  for  such  preference,  is  to  impart  edifying  and  important 
theological  truth. 

4.  If  i-i/MviSdvercu  here  signifies  to  taice  liold  of  in  the  sclsc  of 
saving,  it  makes  the  seed  of  Abraham  the  exclusive  objects  of  that  sal- 
vation. It  excludes  Abraham  himself  from  the  provisions  of  mercy ! 
for  by  no  possibility  can  Abraham  be  included  in  the  seed  of  Abra- 
ham. But  fm-ther,  Did  Christ  undertake  to  save  no  other  people  but 
the  Hebrews?  Who  thinks  so  ?  Isaiah  thinks  very  differently.  He 
says  :  "  It  is  a  light  thing  that  thou  shouldest  bo  my  servant  to  raise 
up  the  tribes  of  Jacob.  I  will  also  give  thee  for  a  light  to  the  Gen- 
tiles, that  thou  niayest  be  my  salvation  unto  the  end  of  the  earth." 

Bloomfield  evidently  feels  this  difiiculty,  and  hence  adds  hastily 
that  "the  spiritual  seed  of, Abraham"  (C! entile  converts)  as  well  as 
the  "  natural  seed"  ma}'  be  included.  This  is  an  unadvised  remark; 
for  although  it  is  true,  as  this  writer  observes,  that  "  seed  of  Abrahnm" 
is  used  in  each  of  these  senses,  yet  it  is  certainly  never  used  in 
both  senses  at  the  same  time,  j'  This  vrould  be  to  confound  things 
that  are  different.     It  would  place  all  Jews,  as  such,  in  the  same 

°Rom.  \iii,  3S  aiul  1  Cor.  vi,  3  constitute  im  i  xrrption  to  tbis  remark;  t,Iio 
nepiffTilcstc  show  distinctly  tliat  wicked  aii.2:ols  r.rc  meant. 

t  This  >yould  violate  the  first  and  plainest  rrii'-iido  of  llermaneutics,  tIz.,  that 
no  word  or  phrase  can  have  but  one  nieaning  in  one  and  the  same  plucc. 


304  Exegesis  of  Hebrews  ii,  16,  [April, 

saving  relations  to  God  -with  truly  converted  Gentile  Christians, 
which  nobody  believes. 

Under  the  pressure  of  the  same  difficulty,  Dr.  Clarke  is  driven  to 
explain  arrepjia  'Al3gadn  as  si^i:^nilying  "  the  human  creature,"  "man," 
in  the  widest  sense  of  that  term  ;  /.  c.  all  mankind !  But  this  phrase 
is  never  so  used  in  the  Bible,  and  cannot  be  so  long  as  language 
continues  to  have  any  dcfnutc  sense. 

But,  on  the  other  hand,  if  wo  give  to  e-iP.a,u/3ui'erai  the  sense  of 
the  received  versio-n,  then  we  can  render  a~epna  'K(3gadn-  in  its  plain, 
natural  meaning,  as  referring  to  Christ's  human  nature:  for  of  that 
•'seed,"  "according  to  the  flesh,  Christ  came."  This  reference  of 
the  phrase  is  not  only  authorized,  but  required  by  the  inspired  word; 
for  it  not  only  foretells  that  Christ  shall  possess  human  nature,  but 
also,  in  the  very  language  under  consideration,  that  he  shall  be  a-epfta 
'APpadji — born  of  the  lineage  of  that  holy  patriarch.*  Indeed,  we 
have  little  doubt  but  that  Paul  had  the  original  promise  in  Genesis 
before  his  mind,  and  borrowed  his  terras  from  it,  as  he  had  just 
quoted  a  series  of  other  prophecies,  all  foretelling  that  ^lessiah 
would  be  presented  in  human  form.  And  we  are  strengthened  in 
this  view  from  the  fact  that  t.-iX  auSdvtrai  is  not  used  in  the  aorist, 
or  historic  tense,  but  in  the  i)rcsent,  just  as  emuaxvrerai  had  been 
used  in  verse  11:  as  though  he  had  said,  "According  to  Scripture 
prophecy,  he  taketh  not  on  him  the  nature  of  angels,  but  he  taketh 
on  him  tlie  seed  of  xVbrahani." 

And  it  is  a  circumstance  not  a  little  remarkable,  that  both  Clarke 
and  Barnes,  after  rejecting  this  sense  of  the  place,  do  nevertheless 
avail  themselves  of  it  in  their  notes,  and  superadd  it  to  the  other 
sense!  This  is  certainly  a  marvellous  way  of  annotation,  to  make 
the  same  words,  and  in  the  same  place,  teach  two  distinct  doctrines, 
having  no  necessary  connexion,  and  that,  too,  Avhen  one  of  them  had 
just  been  expressly  rejected  1  AVc  will  not  believe  they  wrote  with 
so  little  sense  of  respousibilit\-,  but  rather  infer  that  so  obvious  is  the 
sense  here  advocated,  that  these  writers,  even  after  arguing  against  it, 
could  still  not  leave  the  passage,  with  any  satisfaction  to  themselves, 
without  allowing  it,  though  at  the  expense  of  their  own  consistency, 
to  speak  out  its  own  true  and  native  meaning. 

Nelson  Bounds. 

'Comp.  Geu.  x.xii,  IS  (Sept.)  with  Gal.  iii,  IC. 


1853.]  Sliort  Reviews  and  Notices  of  Books.  305 


Art.  \niL— short  REVIEWS  AND  NOTICES  OF  BOOKS. 

(1.)  M.  GcizoT  seems  to  be  gatherinp:  up  t!ic  odds  and  end?  of  his  literary 
products.  One  of  these  is  "  Shakspcare  (iwl  His  'J'hncs."  (New-York :  Harper 
.and  Brothers,  1852;  12mo.,  pp.  3G0.)  This  essay  appeared  ibr  the  first  time 
as  an  introduction  to  the  French  edition  of  Shakspeare's  complete  "works, 
published  at  raris  in  1821.  It  consists  of  a  preliminary  essay  on  Dramatic 
Literature,  with  a  brief  sketch  of  Shakspearu  and  his  Times,  followed  by  special 
criticisms  upon  six  of  the  tragedies,  ten  hI>torIcal  dramas,  and  three  comedies. 
M.  Guizot  sees  clearly  whatever  he  does  see,  and  expresses  himself  Avith 
even  more  tlian  the  ordinary  French  jxTspIeuIty.  Yet  his  narrative  abounds 
in  Inaccuracies,  and  his  criticism  in  ineptitudes.  "  Shakspcare,"  he  says,  "  cannot 
be  translated  into  French."  He  might  have  a<ldcd,  that  Shakspcare  cannot  be 
fully  appreciated  b}-  a  Frenchman,  even  though  that  Frenchman  be  JSI.  Gulzbt. — 
A  field  in  which  the  writer  is  far  more  at  home  is  opened  in  "  Corneille  and 
His  Times,  by  M.  Guizot,"  (Harpers;  12mo.,  pp.  305;)  which  is  a  still 
older  composition,  published  for  the  first  lime  in  1813,  forty  years  ago.  llie 
book,  though  not  rewritten,  has  been  changed  a  good  deal  from  its  early  form. 
"  So  many  years,  and  such  years,"  says  M.  Guizot,  ••  develop  in  the  mind 
entirely  new  views  ujjou  all  subjects — uiion  lIUTature  as  well  as  life ;  and  no 
one  is  ignorant  of  the  discoveries  we  may  uiak(^  by  changing  our  horizon  with- 
out changing  our  ideas."  An  additional  feature  of  this  volume  is  the  fact  that 
a  third  part  of  it  was  written  by  >\Ia<lame  Guizot. 


(2.)  TuE  recent  issues  of  Boiix's  Libraries  arc,  if  possible,  better  chosen  than 
usual.  Among  them  are  "  T/te  Moral  and  HiMorical  Works  of  Lord  Bacon," 
(12mo.,  pp.  504  ;)  including  the  Essays,  .\]X)phthegms,  AVisdora  of  the  Ancients, 
New  Atlantis,  and  Life  of  Henry  the  Seventh.  A  volume  is  to  follow  containing 
a  complete  translation  of  the  Dc  Aiiijmeutif,  and  the  Norum  Organum. — 
"  The  Life  and  Correspondence  of  John  Foster,"  vol.  i,  (12ino.,  pp.  488,)  is 
a  new  edition  of  a  book  too  well  known  to  need  further  comment  In  the 
Classical  Library  we  have  '•  The  Greet  Andiolor;;/  UUrally  translated  into 
Enqlish  Prose:"  (12mo.,  pp.  51 G.)  The  translation  is  mainly  from  the  hand 
of  Sir.  Burcres ;  but  metrical  versions  by  Blai\d.  .Mcrivale,  and  others,  are  added. 
ThG5,volunie  gives  everything  that  can  be  needed  by  English  readers.  We 
have  also  "  77iC  Olynthiac,  and  othtr  I'uhl'.r  Orations  of  Demosthenes,  trans- 
lated hy  C.  R.  Kr.xxEDY,"  (12mo.,  pp.  312.)— The  Illustrated  Library  affords 
us  a  new  edition  of  :SIaxwell"s  '"  Victories  of  Wdliu<ifon  and  the  British  Armirs, 
(12mo.,  pp.  528,)— a  badly  written  book,  but  full  of  interest  and  inci- 
dent.—The  last  volume  of  the  Sclfiilific  Library  is  a  reprint  of  "Whcweirs 
Bridgewater  treatise-"  .'l.s7ro/!o?;i.y  and  General  Physics,  considrvd  m'li 
reference  to  Xatural  Theology,"  (rJmo.,  ].p.  328.)  An  ample  supply  of  all 
these  Libraries  is  kept  on  hand  by  Messrs.  Bangs,  Bi-other  &  Co.,  13  Park-Row. 


306  Short  Reviews  and  Notices  of  Books.  [April> 

(3.)  "We  have  before  spoken  of  Madame  Ipa  rFKiKFKii's  adventurous  journeys 
in  nearly  all  stranirc  lands;.  Her  fir.-t  impulse  to  travel  led  Iier  to  the  Holy 
Land;  and  we  have  now  an  Knjzlish  translation  of  the  record  of  her  journey, 
under  the  title  "  I7.si7  to  ihe  Iluhj  Ijaul,  E<j',ipt,  and  Italy;"  (London :  Ingham 
&Co. ;  New- York;  Bangs,  Lrolher  ^^  Co.,  1SJ2;  12mo.,  pp.  3^6;)  which  has 
reached  a  third  edition  in  England.  Like  the  "  Voyage  to  Iceland,"  the  work 
is  a  simple  and  unadorned  ivlation  of  fai'ts,  candid,  sensible,  and  interesting 
throughout.  It  is  bcaulifully  jninted,  and  illustrated  by  eight  tinted  en- 
gravings. 


(4.)  TiiK  controversy  with  Home  is  to  be  waged  anew ;  and,  as  a  controversy, 
it  must  be  waged  chicHy  in  England  ainl  America.  The  Incjuisition  is  one 
of  the  "institutions"  of  Konie.  The  theory  of  the  Romish  Church,  as  boldly 
avowed  by  its  own  writers  in  this  country,  is  the  theory  of  persecution. 
They  tell  us,  without  reserve,  that  religious  liberty,  so  called,  will  e.xist, 
even  in  America,  only  so  long  as  liomanism  is  subordinate  to  Protestantism. 
We  are  fairly  warned.  "With  Kueh  avowals,  it  behooves  us  to  incjuire,  at 
least,  with  what  sort  of  rule  we  are  threatened  in  the  day  when  Komanism 
shall  prevail;  even  though  ve  may  jiut  that  epoch  oil"  to  the  Greek 
Calends.  Every  source  of  information,  then,  as  to  the  claims,  pretensions,  and 
usages  of  Rome,  should  be  diligently  searched.  And  we  are  glad  to  know 
that  this  work  is  going  on.  ]\Iore  books,  and  better  books,  on  the  Romish 
controversy,  have  appeared  in  England  in  the  last  five  years  than  in  fifty 
before.  One  of  the  best  of  those  prepared  for  popular  use  is  "  The  Brand  of 
Dominic:  or.,  Inqui^<itio!i  at  Home,  Siijtrone  and  Universal;  by  Rev.  William 
H.  RuLK."  (Xew-York:  Carlton  t^  rhilll],s.  1852;  12mo.,  pp.  392.)  The  de- 
sign of  the  work  is  to  give  an  authenticated  statement  of  the  establishment  and 
progress  of  the  Inquisition.  For  this  purpose  the  author  has  recourse,  not  to  the 
popular  histories  of  the  Inquisition — not  to  tlie  many  volumes  of  stories,  of  doubt- 
ful authenticity — but  to  sources  acknowledged  as  authoritative  by  Romanists 
tliemsclves.  In  every  instance,  he  tells  us,  he  has  "  used  these  authorities  for 
himself."  The  work,  then,  is  historical  rather  than  polemical,  and  for  that  very 
reason  it  is  the  more  trustworthy  au<l  valuable.  The  author  writes  with  re- 
markable calmness  and  deliberation ;  and  while,  of  course,  he  does  not  attempt 
to  extenuate  the  enormities  of  the  Iiujulsition,  or  to  mitigate  the  just  abhon-ence 
in  wiiich  the  tribunal  is  hold  throughout  the  civilized  world,  he  does  not,  at  least 
consciously,  exaggerate  any  of  its  crimes.  Xo  exaggeration,  indeed,  is  needed 
to  give  efl'ect  to  a  simple  statement  of  the  terrible  truth.  He  tells  us 
how  the  Inquisition  began,  what  it  was  in  the  days  of  its  pride  and  power, 
and  what  it  «  now.  For,  to  use  his  own  language,  the  Inquisition  is  not  to 
be  spoken  of  "as  an  obsolete  barbaiism,  or  as  a  something  that  cannot  any 
longer  exist.  It  is. a  permanent,  active,  and  vigorous  institution  of  the  Church 
of  Rome.  While  the  papacy  survives,  the  In(iuIsItion  nuist  live;  for  the  spirit 
of  it  is  not  that  of  the  middle  age,  but  of  the  Church  Itself.  ISLmy  orders  have 
risen  and  fallen  again  AvithIn  the  bosom  of  that  Church,  because  their  interests 
were  local,  or  because,. like  some  of  the  nii!iiary  soc-ieties,  they  were  not  so 
constituted  as  possibly  to  be  permanent.     And  special  enterprises,  like  the 


1853.].  Sfiort  Reviews  mid  Notices  of  Books.  307 

Crusades,  that  could  not  posilbly  bo  coiitinuod,  have  had  their  day,  and  passed 
oS'  into  the  pages  of  history.  But  the  Im^ui^ition  outlives  every  change, 
adapts  itself  to  the  condition  of  every  country,  works  (juictly  amidst  the  most 
clamorous  profes^ions  of  liberality,  and,  while  seeming  to  have  been  beaten 
away  from  the  wide  field  of  the  popedom,  and  forced  to  retreat  within  the 
frontiei-s  of  the  papal  states,  even  there  the  Congregation  of  the  Faith  phes  its 
agencies  with  an  impalpable,  noiseless,  and  all-pervading  energ)-  that  mocks 
our  jealousy,  by  eluding  our  vigilance.  The  imjuisitors  are  actually  conducting 
a  crusade,  in  union  with  the  Jesuits,  against  the  civil  and  religious  liberties  of 
the  .world,  and  are  causing  that  intensely  crde-iastical  but  worldly  spirit, 
which  is  erroneously  called  Ultraniontani.-m,  to  prevail  in  countries  which  very 
lately  seemed  to  be  open  for  a  religious  retbrmaiion." 

AVe  commend  the  work,  as  a  candid,  ti-iitlilul.  and  temperate  account  of  the 
Inquisition,  containing  much  material  that  is  altogether  new,  and  as  being,  in 
the  author's  language,  "  more  perfectly  h;>turical  in  its  structure  than  that  of 
most  others  on  the  same  subject." 


(5.)  "Pastoral Theolorpj; o);the  Theoriiofthe Ecaiu/eliral i\finisfnj,hy A.Yi^zr; 
translated  and  edited  by  Thomas  II.  Skinner,  D.  I)."  (Nev,--York :  Harper 
&  Brothers,  1S53  ;  12mo.,  pp.  387.)  This  v.'ork  was  not  prepared  for  the  press 
by  jNI.  Yinet,  but  is  composed,  substantially,  of  the  notes  which  served  as  a  basis 
for  his  lectures  in  the  Academy  of  Lausanne.  It  is  marked  by  the  compre- 
hensiveness of  range,  clearness  of  thouglil,  profound  learning,  and  admirable 
persjMCjiity  of  expression,  whi(>h  chan\cteri/.e  all  the  works  of  M.  Yinet.  After 
an  Introduction,  laying  out  the  subject  and  sotting  forth  the  necessity  and 
nature  of  the  ^Ministry,  the  work  is  dividid  into  four  parts,  of  which  the  Jir.jt 
treats  of  the  individual  and  internal  litV-  of  ti:<!  preacher;  the  srrond  exhibits 
his  relative  and  social  life;  the  t/iinl,  his  pastond  hte;  and  ihn  fourth,  his  ad- 
ministrative or  official  life.  All  these  }V)ints  arc  faithfully  elaborated,  some- 
times, even,  with  excessive  minuteness  of  d.-t;iil ;  and  many  of  the  statements 
refer  to  an  ecclesiastical  condition  and  to  a  relation  of  Ciiurch  and  State,  utterly 
unknown  in  this  country.  The  work,  tliroughout,  moreover,  has  a  fragmentary 
chai-acter,  which  is,  perhaps,  due  to  the  lack  of  the  author's  final  revision  for 
the  press.     But  it  is  full  of  spirit,  fire,  and  unction. 

"We  present  the  following  extracts  as  a  spclnien  of  the  author's  mode  of 
dealing  with  practical  points,  and  also  because  of  tlieir  bearing  upon  the  duty 
of  Methodist  preachers,  wlio,  by  the  rule  of  Uie  last  General  Conterence,  are 
bound  to  catechise  the  children  committed  to  their  charge. 

"Among  our  functions,  catrchisii}^  oeiMij'jc'  th(»  first  rank.  Relitrious  instruc- 
tion, well  attended  on,  renews  contiiuudly  tlie  f.>uiKl;ition  of  the  Church,' and  is 
the  most  real  and  valuable  part  of  that  tnuiitiun  hy  wliich  Christianity,  not  only 
as  a  doctrine,  but  also  as  a  life,  pori""ta.it.-s  it,--.  If  froui  age  to  age.  In  this 
tradition,  the  importance  of  the  sonnon,  j.r.'pcrly  so  called,  is  the  greater  in 
proportion  as  it  is  addressed  to  hearers  who  have  ])een  prepared  by  religious 
instruction. 

"Catechising  is  useful  to  those  who  are  it-^  mitiu  liate  objects;  it  is  useful  to 
the  parish,  which  has  need  to  he,  an'l,  with  its  ..hi:  hen,  is  ciuechised  ;  it  is  use- 


308  Short  Reviews  and  Notices  of  Books.  [April, 

ful  to  the  pastor  himself,  Avho,  by  the  duty  of  adapting  religion  to  the  appre- 
hension of  children,  is  incessantly  carrie<l  back  to  simplicity  and  the  true  names 
of  things.  On  all  tliese  accounts,  it  desevvos  our  earnest  attention,  -which  it 
also  demands  by  its  difficultj- — not  the  same  for  all  pastors,  but  always  great. 
For  it  is  a  ■work  winch,  besides  all  tlic  requisites  to  good  preaching,  includes 
special  requisites  of  its  ov>-n.  lie  who  catechises  well  will  not  preach  badly ; 
though  he  who  preaches  excellently  may  be  a  bad  catechist. 

"Lft  the  preacher  do  what  ho  can  to  make  the  child  remember,  through  life, 
the  instructions  he  gives  him.  Let  the  hours  of  teaching  be  hours  of  edification  ; 
let  the  child  have  the  feeling  that  the  exorcise  is  one  in  which  he  is  to  be  active ; 
let  religious  teaching  have  the  character  of  worship :  action  and  icorship,  these 
two  characteristics,  which  ought  to  be  interfused  into  one  another,  are  too  often 
lost  sight  of. 

"  Where  ought  a  child  to  find  his  religion?  All  that  he  can  find  himself,  ho 
must  find,  but  that  is  little ;  all  the  rest  is  in  the  Bible.  It  is  the  Bible  that 
must  teach  him.  Catechising  presupposes  the  Bible,  which  it  does  but  digest 
and  systematize  ;  and  we  say  in  pa.^sing,  that  its  use  after  the  Bible  has  not  the 
same  inconveniences  Avith  its  use  before  it.  It  ivould  be  a  sad  error  to  retrench 
it,  but  not  so  great  a  one  as  to  rvtreiich  the  Bible. 

"It  is  difficult  to  make  a  ("a't.-chistii,  and  there  are  but  few  good  ones.  All 
things  else  being  equal,  I  should  prefer  t  lie  most  elementary — one  which,  conceived 
after  a  Christian  plan,  and  reducing  all  things  to  a  small  number  of  principles, 
presents  only  the  fundamental  idea;  on  each  subject,  but  expressed  with  vigour 
and  feeling. 

"  It  is  very  desirable  that  adults  shouM  take  interest  in  the  exercise,  and  be 
attendants  on  it,  but  we  shouM  not  think  ourselves  obliged  to  change  its  character 
on  their  account.  It  would  be  unfaitlifulness  in  respect  to  the  children,  and 
would  be  rather  a  damage  than  a  bouetit  to  the  a'lults.  Keligion  is  never  more 
penetrating,  nor  is  instruction  really  more  profound,  than  when  Christianity  is 
put  in  an  infantile  point  of  view.  To  ju-esent  it  thus,  is  to  make  it  attractive 
to  adults;  the  best  sermon  is  not  so  attractive  as  a  catechetic  exercise,  well 
managed." 

There  are  many  things  in  this  book  with  which  we  cannot  agree,  'btit  yet 
we  welcome  it  as  a  most  wi-lcome  addition  to  otir  scanty  stock  of  books  on 
jiractical  and  pastoral  tlioology. 


(6.)  "  Woman's  Record;  or,  S(:clcJi^s  of  all  Dhtlnr/ulsJicd  Wovien,  from  the 
begitminrjtillA.D.\Si>0;  by  Sarah  Joi^epiia  Hale."  (New- York  :  Harper 
&  Brothers,  1853  ;  royal  8vo.,  pp.  .)  "  Some  readers,"  remarks  ]Mi-s.  Hale 
in  her  prcfivce,  '•  may  think  I  have  found  too  many  celebrities ;  others  will 
search  for  omissions.  There  -was  never  a  perfect  work — so  mine  must  bear 
the  general  lot  of  criticism."  Tiiis  appeal  would  liave  been  more  valid  'if  a 
more  modest  title-jjage  announced  tlie  work.  Tii  a  book  of  sketches  o£  all 
distinguished  women,  one  ironld  export  to  find  the  names  of  the  mother  of 
the  "Wesleys,  of  Mr.  Fletclier,  and  of  some,  at  least,  of  the  missionary  women 
of  Mctliodism.  With  reganl  to  the  last,  however,  it  is  due  to  Mrs.  Hale  to 
say  tlirft  she  tells  us  "  tliey  were  not  furnished  ;"  but  we  should  reallv  be  "lad 
to  know  to  whom  she  applied  for  information.  But,  even  Avith  these  draw- 
backs, and  many  others  that  we  need  not  go  far  to  seek,  the  book  is  a  most 
valuable  contribution  to  biograjdiical  literature.  It  is  certainly  the  most  copious 
repertory  of  facts  about  woman,  or  rather  iroiwii,  tliat  is  extiiut  in  the  language. 
The  arrangement  of  the  work  is  faulty;  it  is  neither  alphabetical  nor  chrono- 
logical, but  a  mixture  of  tlie  two. 


1853.]  Shart  Revimvs  and  Notices  of  Books.  309 

(7.)  "  American  iftssiunari/  Memorial,  including  Biographical  and  Historical 
Sketches,  edited  by  H.  "W.  Pikkso-,  A.  'M.  (New- York :  Harper  &  Brothers, 
1853  ;  8vo.,  pp.  504.)  The  "  Book  of  :^Iartyi-s  "  is  fitly  Ibllowed  by  the  "  Book 
of  Missionaries."  The  world  commeuiorates  its  henjes,  ami  the  Church  should 
not  forget  hers.  And  the  volume  before  us  tells  of  heroes  and  heroines  of  the 
purest  and  the  noblest  stamp — men  and  -women  to  ^\■hom  duty  was  more  than 
life.  It  contains  a  brief  account  of  the  origin  of  American  Foreign  IMissions, 
and  twenttj-seixn  biographical  sketches  of  American  Missionaries,  of  all  religious 
denominations — among  them  the  foremost  of  the  noMc  band,  such  as  Judson, 
Abeel,  Fisk,  Cox,  and  "Williams.  It  is  delightful,  as  the  editor  of  this  -work 
remarks,  to  "  mark  the  oneness  of  the  people  of  Goil  of  every  name,  as  illustrated 
in  their  spirit  and  lal^oui-s  for  the  conversion  of  the  -world."  The  book  is 
illustrated  by  thirty-three  wood-cuts,  many  of  them  portraits.  We  trust  it 
•will  be  -widely  circulated  among  all  the  Churches. 


(8.)  The  late  Eev.  D.vxiel  Smith  was  "  in  labours  abundant,"  both  in  the 
pulpit  and  in  his  study.  The  books  from  his  pen,  issued  by  the  Methodist 
Book  Concern,  are  all  of  a  practical  character,  and  are  well  adapted  to  the 
■mants  of  the  times.  The  last  work  pix^pared  by  him  before  his  death  has 
just  been  issued,  under  the  title  "  2'hc  Jiook  of  Manners,  a  Guide  to  Social 
Intercourse."  (Xcw-York :  Carlton  &  I'hiliips,  1852;  32uio.,  pp.  202.)  The 
book  is  written  upon  the  principle  that  good  mrinnei's  spring  from  good  feelings, 
and  that  "he  can  never  fail  to  please  any  that  are  worth  pleasing,  who  acts 
in  accordance  with  the  dictates  of  good  sense  and  a  benevolent  heart;"  while 
no  se[fisk  man  can  be  a  real  gentleman.  'J'he  writer  makes  free  use  of  all 
the  best  -wi-iters  on  the  subject,  and  the  re-ult  oi'  his  laboui-sis  a  work  combining 
the  excellencies,  and  avoiding  the  defect.^  ut"  mo-t  of  the  existing  manuals. 
"We  commend  it  as  deserving  a  wide  circulalinu. — Another  posthumous  work, 
from  the  same  lamented  hand,  is  "  -1  Guide  to  the  Lord's  Supper,  by  Rev. 
Daxiel  Smith,  (New- York :  Carlton  &  Phillips,  1853;  pp.  122,)  and,  like 
the  former  work,  it  condenses  Into  a  small  si)ace  the  substance  of  many  larger 
treatises. 

(a.)  "  77t^  lltrce  Colonics  of  Australia:  Xcn:  Soidh  M'alcs,  Victoria,  South 
Australia — their  pastiires.  coppcr-miii'S  and  r/olit  fields  :  by  Samukl  Sidney." 
(I^ndon :  Ingham,  Cooke  &  Co. ;  Xcw-York  :  Hangs  &  I5rother ;  8vo.,  pp.  425.) 
This  book  is  a  repertory  of  information  about  Au>tral!a.  It  is  divided  into 
three  parts  :— 1.  Historical;  2.  Pescriptivc  :  3.  Fra-'tical.  The  first  contains 
an  account  of  the  discovery  and  settlement  of  the  island,  and  of  the  various 
schemes  of  governors  and  administrations  ior  its  management  up  to  the  present 
time.  The  second  part  treats  of  the  princi]ial  districts  colonized,  of  their 
natural  history,  and  their  agricultural  ami  mining  resources.  The  third  section 
may  be  called,  in  brief,  a  band-book  f  <v  emigrants.  All  these  subjects  are 
thoroughly  worked  out.  The  writer  crltl.I-es  the  various  colonization  schemes 
that  have  been  adopted  in  England  with  great  severity,  and  is  especially  sharp 
in  ccnsuriniT  the  land  svstem  of  the  British  government.     Indeed,  one  great 


310  Short  Reviews  and  Notices  of  Books.  [April, 

object  of  his  -work  seems  to  bo  advocate  what  he  calls  "the  admirable  system 
by  which,  for  half  a  ccnturj-,  the  vast  territories  of  the  United  States  have 
been  colonized,  cities  have  been  founded,  harbours  constructed,  railroads  made, 
and  canals  cut." 


(10.)  xb^OTHEU  contribution  to  the  romance  of  History  lias  appeared  in 
"Lives  of  Oie  Queens  of  ScotkDu!,  by  rijiss  Stuicklaxd,  vol.  iii.  (New- York  : 
Harper  &  Brothers,  1S53  ;  l"2uio.,  jip.  3.')fl.)  This  volume  contiiins  the  Life 
of  ]\Iary  Stuart,  which  ]MIs.s  Strickland,  after  her  usual  fashion,  writes  as  an 
advocate,  not  as  a  biographer.  Everything  that  can  possibly  tell  In  the 
fair  but  frail  queen's  favour  is  given — nay,  exaggerated — and  the  hard  points 
against  her  are  either  omitted  or  extenuated.  To  those  who  wish  a  one-sided, 
but  yet  highly  attractive  sketch  of  ^hiry,  this  volume  avIU  be  welcome. 


(11.)  The  value  of  Dr.  Lardner's  '■'■  Ilanfl-lnoks  of  Natural  Pldlosophj  and 
A^tronnmu"  Is  well  kiiov.-n  to  practical  teachei-s.  "\Vc  have  received  the 
"Second  Course,"  (riilladeljihia:  Elanchard  &  Lea,  1853;  12mo.,  pp.  451,) 
which  ti-eats  of  Heat,  ^Magnetism,  Cc^nmion  Electricity,  and  Voltaic  Electricity 
and  contains  a  full  and  accurate  digest  of  the  present  state  of  knowledge 
on  these  subjects.  The  cha})ter  on  the  Electric  Telegraph,  however,  might 
certainly  have  received  some  A-aluable  additions  on  this  side  the  Atlantic. 


(12.)  ".1  Culfle  to  noman  Hhtorti,  by  Fvcv.  Dr.  Erewki;,"  (New- York : 
C.  S.  Francis  &  Co. ;  1  Snio.,  pp.  1 71,)  contains  a  brief  manual  of  the  History  of 
Eome  from  the  earlic>t  iioriud  to  tlie  clo-e  of  the  Western  Empire;  designed 
for  use  in  schools  and  families,  and  put  in  the  form  of  question  and  answer 
throughout. 


(13.)  "Philip  Doddridf/e,  his  Life  and  Lahnurs,  by  Joiix  StouGHTON." 
(Boston  :  Gould  iSc  Lincoln,  1853  ;  l-2n\o.,  jjp.  222.)  This  is  a  reprint,  with  ad- 
,<.litIons,  of  a  ^Icmorlal  delivered  before  the  Congregational  Union  of  England 
and  "Wales  at  its  ses.>ion  of  IS.'r?,  held  at  Northampton,  the  scene  of  Doddridge's 
labours,  just  a  ccntmy  after  his  death.  It  presents  his  mild,  amiable,  and  yet 
manly  nature  In  very  fitiing  dress,  and  is  wurihy  of  general  circulation. 


(M.)  "  Elenicnls  of  Geology,  by  Ai.ONZo  Cuay,  A.  'M.,  and  C.  B.  Adams, 
A.M.,"  (New- York  :  Harper  &  Brothers,  lSr>.3 ;  12mo.,  pp.  354.)  is  just  such 
a  book  as  we  have  long  wished  to  see,  not  only  tor  school  use,  but  for  our  own 
pei-sonal  editication.  It  not  only  presents  tlie  elements  of  the  science  In  a 
simple  form  adapted  to  beginners,  that  also  gives  tolerably  ample  discussions 
of  the  more  important  geological  theories,  and  of  their  practical  applications, 
as  well  as  of  their  bearings  upon  Kevclation.  No  work,  on  this  subject,  has 
appeared  either  in  England  or  .Vmcrica  at  all  comparable  to  this  for  condensa- 
tion and  clearness  combined  with  fulness  of  detail. 


1853.]  Short  Reviews  and  Notices  of  Books.  311 

(15.)  "  Questions  on  ihe  Gospel  Hixtorif,  by  Jamfs  Stkoxg,  A.  M.,"  (ISmo., 
pp.  295.)  These  Questions  are  adapted  to  the  author's  c.xecllent  "  Haraionv 
and  Exposition  of  the  Gospels,"  and  are  dosi;:iied  for  the  use  of  the  older 
pupils  in  schools,  and  for  Bible-classes,  Sunday-school  teachers,  &c.  "With 
this  view  they  are  far  more  thorourjli  than  the  routine  of  those  in  general 
use,  and  aim  to  cultivate  the  student's  ju.lj:uicnt  as  well  as  his  mcirfbry. 
We  have  examined  them  sufllcicntly  to  warrar.t  us  in  commending  them  uu- 
reservedlv. 


(IC.)  "  Formation  of  a  Manij/  CItarndcr :  a  S,  ;■/>■,-  of  Lrclures  lo  Younn  jfjn, 
by  Gkokge  Pf.ck,  DD."  (Xew-York:  Carlton  isc  PhiHijis,  IS.iO;  18mo.. 
pp.  304.)  This  Is  one  of  the  most  judii-lous  and  sensible  books  of  Its  class 
that  has  come  under  our  notice.  The  i/lcul.  of  a  manly  character  is  just  and 
true,  and  It  gives  excellent  practical  suggestions  fur  the  realization  of  thai 
ideal.  The  first  chapter  enforces  the  necessity  of  phy.^ical  tralnin"-— a  branch 
of  culture  greatly  neglected  In  this  country.  "W'e  take  better  care,  in  general. 
of  the  pJi>/siijue  of  our  dogs  and  ho:-ses  than  of  our  children.  The  four 
following  chapters  treat  of  manlioo;!  of  miml  and  will ;  and  thcv  are,  perhaps 
the  very  best  part  of  the  book.  The  cIia].tiT  on  Jijiaginatlon  is  especiallv 
sensible  and  suggestive.  T;ike,  as  a  sample,  the  lollowing  illustration  of  umlubj 
excited  Imagination : — 

"  One  instance  of  this  class  is  that  of  an  inoi|nality  of  mind,  or  a  want  of  duo  to.!- 
ance — an  exclusive  devotion  to  one  idea.  TIio  Jiicn  ct'lliis  class  mount  some  particu- 
lar hobby,  and  rido  it  to  death — or,  rarlier.  riue  it  tiii  tliey  kill  (hciusclvcs.  In  their 
imagiua  ions,  they  make  the  welfare  of  the  nu-c,  a;..!  the  very  existence  ofsccietv 
to  depend  upon  their  favourite  scheme. 

"Another  instance  of  tliis  class  may  bo  ui'H.  !iin;a{(.d  raslk-builditig.  Concootins: 
impracticable  schemes,  and  drcauiin.u:  over  thvin  j;l-ht  ami  day,  until  the  sober 
realities  of  life  become  utterly  iii.-iirnilicant,  jiiid  tiu:  niind  is  only  in  its  ek-ment 
while  in  the  midst  of  a  world  of  plr;isant  d^y-drfanis  and  gorgeous  pictures  of 
wealth,  honour,  and  glory.  I'oliirlitful  fancii-s  da7/.]e  the  siglitTand  sploijdid  fic- 
tions crowd  the  brain,  a  series  of  splendid  vi>io:is  p;i..;s  btfore  the  mind  and  excite 
the  sensibilities;  this  is  thought  to  bo  po^.-ible,  that  ]irobable,  and  the  other 
quite  certain.  r>eason  is  dethroned,  and  siK^n  tlie  wrvtelied  dreamer  is  dtcniLd  a 
fair  candidate  for  the  maddiouse. 

"Still  another  forra  in  whicii  the  high  eTccitcMotit  and  undue  action  of  the  ima- 
gination show  themselves,  is  that  of  rccLUis  ffcculatioiis.  \  man  of  business 
flourishes  for  a  v.hile,  and  seems  to  Le  in  tli<"  hij.li  mail  to  wealth;  a  jircssuve  ia 
the  money  market  comes  on,  and  he  fail--  f-r  r  humlrrd  thousnnd  dollars.  Some 
set  him  down  for  a  regulai--built  scoiunlnd:  wldie  tliosf  who  arc  alone  competent 
to  judge  in  the  case,  consider  hiin  a  vietiui  t-i"  ba<,.lis.s  calculations, an  adven- 
turous genius,— one  whose  imagination  had  !  •  cmhic  ran.pant,  and' had  turned 
reason  and  common-sense  out  of  doors. 

"When  the  imagination  is  excited  hy  strong  t  -mi. Nations  to  do  wrong,  the  moral 
sense,  or  conscience,  is  liable  to  undi-rniincd.  \^  ii.  n  con.seience  becomes  blinded, 
or  diseased,  by  some  cause,  which  iuads  tlic  iiuagination  astray,  then  it  mav  be 
said  t.  be  corrupted.  It  is  probably  true  t|i.it  all  vitiuus  action^,  which  are  ddi- 
herately  doup,  are  first  acted  over  in  the  iiM.r.'itiatii.n.  The  images  of  a  certain 
species  of  wrong-'take  possession  of  ih''  iniaginatb.n,  .-uid  are  tliori,-  mixed  up  with 
a  thousand  sweets;  the  bait  is  gildcl,  and  u'^uuics  every  pleasant  hue;  a'icone 
is  created  in  which  the  lights  are  place  lin  1  •'  !  n  !i.f,  «liiie  the  shade's  are  far 
in  the  background,  scarcely  visible,  'i'hc  imngiTiatton  i.;  occupied  with  tlii<  .«cone, 
and  by  it  excited  and  heated,  day  after  day,  auil.  jtrhaps,  ibr  year.?,  before  the 
dreadful  result  develops  itself. 


312  Short  Rcvicios  and  Notices  of  Books.  [April, 

"  The  public  mind  is  often  shocked  by  instances  of  outrageous  Trickedness,  per- 
petrated by  individuals  of  conrriderablo  respectability'.  Funds  are  embezzled, 
virtue  is  assaulted,  or  a  murder  is  coniniitted,  liy  sonic  one  not  suspected  capable 
of  any  such  outrages  upon  morals.  If  the  history  of  the  mind  and  heart  of  the 
transgressor  could  bo  read,  it  m'ouM  be  se«ii  that  the  immediate  occasion  of  the 
offence  merely  brought  out,  or  matured,  what  liad  been  a  thousand  times  enacted 
in  the  imagination.  The  real  fall  was  not  sudden,  but  gradual,  having  its  inci- 
pient stages  and  its  gi'owth  in  the  livorkings  of  the  imagination." 

The  chaptei-s  on  "  Moral  and  Keligious  Manhood"  show  that  tlic  only  sure 
basis  for  a  mauly  character  is  true  religion.  Every  other  foundaliou  is  but 
quicksand.  On  the  wliole,  tlic  book  is  a  most  valuable  present  from  the  ex- 
cellent author  to  the  "  Young  men  of  tlic  Time,"  and  we  trust  it  will  be  widely 
circulated. 


(17.)  It  Is  ncvei-  too  late  to  do  well.  The  publishers  have  been  very  tiirdy  In 
sending  us  •'■Lectures  on  the  Ji^ruknrcs  nf  Chri-tlianilt/,  d-divcn:'!  at  the  Uniror- 
sily  of  Virginia,  ilurhi'j  the  Session  nf  lS.JO-51."  (Xew-York:  K.  Carter  & 
Brothers,  IS'tl.  8vo.,  pp.  GOG.)  }jut  It  is  welcome :  and  we  only  regret  that  we 
cannot  devote  an  article  to  it  instead  of  a  brief  notice.  The  Lectures  were 
delivered  entirely  by  Frosbytorian  clergymen — a  fact  thus  explained  In  the 
Preface :— ■•  The  only  point  whicli  seems  to  need  explanation  is  the  fact  that 
all  the  lecturei's  were  clioscn  i'vom  one  denomination  of  Christians.  This  was 
a  point  of  much  deliberation,  and  thii  ])iau  adopted  was  considered  the  most 
likely  to  secure  in  the  end  the  best  and  widest  result.  It  was  hoped  that  our 
example  would  be  followed  by  t!io  other  denominations,  as  they  in  turn  had 
possession  of  the  chaplaiu'-y:  and  thus  only  could  all  be  allowed  an  ecpial 
opportunity.  The  material  being  inexhaustible,  let  each  denomination  drav.- 
up  its  own  schedule,  select  its  o-.va  champions  of  the  faith,  and  publish  Its  own 
volume  of  lectures,  and  thus,  ami  thu<  alone,  might  we  hope  to  have  the  flower 
of  American  Christian  intellect  in  the  several  Clmrches  engaged  in  a  united 
assault  upon  the  ranks  of  infidelity."  We  have  reason  to  believe  that  the 
"  flower"  of  the  Presbyterian  Cluirch  lias  been  engaged  upon  the  lectures  before 
us,  and  the  result  Is  a  work  of  whieli  the  Christian  Church  (much  more  any 
denomination  of  it)  has  no  reason  to  be  a>hamed.  We  suppose  there  must 
have  been  some  arrangement  between  the  lecturers  as  to  their  several  topics: 
if  not,  they  have  chanced  upon  a  remarkable  series  of  well-adjusted  lines  of 
thinking,  going  very  nearly  to  make  up  a  roimdcd  whole  of  Christian  evi- 
dences. Dr.  Plimier's  lecture  on  "  ^lan  lIes]>onsible  for  his  Belief,"  is  a  fit  por- 
tico to  this  noble  edifice,  albeit,  im  a  portico.  It  is  not  so  highly  finished  as  some 
of  ihe  inner  chamb<?rs.  But  wc  dare  not  attempt.  In  our  halt-page  notice,  to 
characterize  the  several  lectures.  The  be>t  of  them,  according  to  our  judg- 
ment, are  Dr.  Alexander's  on  the  "  Ch.aracter  f>f  .Jesus  Christ  as  an  Argument 
for  the  Divine  Origin  of  Christianity;"  Dr.  ]>ieckeurldge's  on  the  "General 
Internal  Evidence  of  Christianity  ;"  and  I'ev.  T.  V.  Moore's  on  the  "  Unity  of 
the  Human  Itace,  In  answer  to  the  ethnological  objection."  But  while  the  other 
lectures  are  of  unciiual  merit,  none  arc  icilhout  merit;  and  the  book,  as  a 
whole,  is  a  valuable  addition  to  the  apologetical  literature  of  Christianity. 


1853.]  Short  Reviews  and  Notices  of  Books.  313 

(18.)  "The  Complete  Tro/7.-5  o/ Samuel  Tayi.oix  CoLKiiinr.E,  vol.  i:  Aids 
to  Reflection  and  Statesman's  Manual."  (New-York :  Hai-pcr  &  Brothers,  1 2mo.. 
pp.  484.)  It  is  quite  the  fashion,  in  some  quarters,  now-a-days,  to  abuse  Cole- 
EIDGE  as  a  man  possessed  of  great  powers,  indeed,  but  wasting  them  in  dreruny 
indolence.  And  yet  this  man  has  made  a  stronger  impression  upon  the  think- 
ing minds  of  the  age  than  any  other  on  English  ground,  and  his  writings  and 
conversation  have  given  a  more  manly  tarn  to  [.hilo-ophieal  inquir}-  than 
existed  among  his  countrymen  for  a  century  before, — not  to  speak  ot  hi.-' 
poetry,  which^exhibits  more  varied  powers  than  liavc  been  shown  by  any  oni- 
man  since  the  days  of  Milton.  Believing  thus,  we  cannot  but  rejoice  at  the 
appearance  of  the  first  volume  of  a  collected  edition  of  his  writings.  The  series 
(of  which  there  are  to  be  seven  volumes)  will  contain  all  his  published  writ- 
ings, with  the  exception  of  his  newspaper  articles,  ^vhich  are  omitted^  on 
account  of  their  comparatively  ephemeral  character.  The  whole  is  to  be  edited 
by  Professor  Shedd,  who  has  given  ample  prtiof  of  his  capacity  for  the  task  in 
the  genial  ami  able  IntToductory  Es.-^ay  profix<'<l  to  this  volume,  which  contains 
also  Dr.  Mai^h's  admirable  Essay  originally  prefi-Vcd  to  the  Aids  to  Reflection. 
A  very  meagre  index  to  the  "  Aids"  appears  at  the  end  of  the  volume  ;  we  hope 
it  is  not  a  specimen  of  what  we  arc  to  expect  in  that  way  throughout,  and  trust 
that  an  ample  index  to  the  "^Vorks"  will  appear  in  the  seventh  volume. 
Without  it,  the  collection  will  be  still  incomplete. 


(19.)  «  Outlines  of  Asironomij,  by  Sir  J.  F.  AV.  IIeksciiel."  (Philadelphia : 
Blanchard  &  Lea,  1852,  Svo.,  pp.  557.)  Tins  edition  of  a  work  too  well  known 
to  require  special  comment  is  reprinted  from  the  fourth  London,  (of  1851,) 
which  contains  the  author's  latest  additions.  Tiiere  is  no  other  summary  of  the 
facts  of  astronomy  so  full,  accurate,  and  perspicuous. 


(20.)  "  The  HiMory  of  the  Ecstoration  of  Mvuarchj  in  France,  by  Alphonsf. 
DE  Lamartine,"  vol.  iii.  (Harper  &  P.ruther..:  New-York,  1852,  12mo.. 
pp.  554.)  Each  volume  of  tliis  Ilistorj-  aj.pcars  to  l>c  an  improvement  upon  its 
predecessor;  certainlv  the  narration  of  XaiK^leon's  fall  is  a  most  admirable 
piece  of  composition. "  Lamartine  appears  to  girat  advantage  amid  the  flatterers 
and  parasites  of  Louis  Napoleon,  uttering  hun<i'It  boldly  and  freely  with  re- 
gard to  the  overweening  and  unscrupulous  ambition  of  Mon  Oncle,  and  show- 
fncr  how  it  led  him  first  to  wTOug  an-l  then  to  rum.  The  i>rcsent  vohune  carries 
the  hi^torv  down  from  1815  to  1821.  The  second  restoration  affords  a  fine 
field  for  M.  Lamartinc's  power  of  scene-paiut.ng:  the  capture  of  Napoleon. 
the  escape  of  LaAalette.  the  iudi<-ial  slaughior  ui  Ney-that  ineflliceable  blot 
upon  the  memor>-  of  th.at  hard  and  hearth's,  man  the  liuko  of  AVellington-are 
depicted  with  even  more  than  his  usual  skill  at  p.<.  tnre-making.  The  closing 
passage  of  the  volume  contains,  in  few  wonis,  a  condensed  characterization  of 
Napoleon's  character  and  career,  so  just  and  s.5  accurate  that  we  cannot  forbear 
to  quote  it : — 

"The  intdliL'..-nco  of  his  death  chan?..!  tho  in,n,rnse  t-rror  wldch  had  beset 
Europe  duringhis  life  into  immense  pllv.    ^\  lif "  I'voi'le  ceased  to  loar  hiui.  they 

Fourth  Series,  Vol.  V.— 20. 


314  Short  Revicics  and  Notices  of  Boohs.  [July, 

ceased  to  hato.  Impartial  minds  began  to  do  him  justice.  Genius  and  glory  were 
not  denied  to  Lim ;  but  it  was  deplored  tbat  so  much  genius  and  so  much  glory 
had  only  been  consecrated  to  the  ptr^onal  greatness  of  one  man,  instead  of  being 
devoted  to  the  amelioration  of  the  world.  This  is  where  he  failed  to  his  destiny,  to 
Go<l,  to  humanity,  to  France,  and  to  himself.  The  fine  part  of  his  character  was 
not  equalled  by  the  good,  lie  v  as  the  greatest  man  of  modern  times,  but  he  was 
also  the  most  sterile  in  results  for  tlie  human  race.  lie  wasted  France  and 
Europe  for  fourteen  years,  without  imparting  to  them  an  idea,  a  liberty,  or  a 
\irtue.  He  shook  the  worhl  without  displacing  it.  Franco,  however,  which 
owes  him  a  severe  judgment,  owes  him  alio  impartial  gratitude.  He  made  her 
illustriuus ;  he  made  ln.-r  resound  with  tlic  splendour  of  liis  own  name,  during  the 
early  part  of  a  centviry,  through  the  universe.  It  is  a  service  to  aggrandize  the 
name  of  one's  country  ;  for  the  name  of  a  peojde  is  a  spell  iu  time  and  history,  and 
a  certain  claim  to  immortality." 


(21.)  '■'Pleasant  Pa'jc.-^  for  Youiuj  People,  by  J.  P.  Newcombk."  (Boston: 
Gould  &  Lincoln,  18a3  ;  iSmo.,  pp.  4  2(;.)  Tliis  is  a  book  something  after  the 
style  ofthe  laseinating  "  Evenings  at  Home,"  but  more  accurate  and  authentic 
in  its  scientific  inforraation.  .  Its  aim  is  to  reconcile  pleasure  with  useful  in- 
struction ;  and  it  is  skilfully  prepared  for  use  in  family  education. 


(22.)  "7?.  /.  V,\n'st's  Deutsche  SpnrrhltnUelre,  zum  SdUtunterrlcht  in  da 
Muttcrsprache  eingcriddtA  uinl  jult  rincr  ErJdaruncj  der  Gchrauclis  MctJiodc 
versehen,  von  Wiliiki.m  Xast."  (Cincinnati:  Swormstedt  &  Poe,  1S53; 
1 2mo.,  pp.  1 72.)  Dr.  Xast  is  un  v.caried  in  labours  for  the  benefit  of  his  couutr}-- 
men  in  America.  The  hist  "good  work"  in  which  he  has  been  engaged  Is  the 
preparation  of  this  manual,  which  Is  everything  that  the  title-page  indicates. 

(23.)  "  Cornelu  Kepotis  liber  de  excdlcntibus  Ducibus,  &c."  (Philadelphia : 
Elanchard  8:  Lea;  ISmo.,  pp.  21 G.)  This  forms  one  of  the  "  Classical  Series" 
heretofore  edited  by  Schmitz  and  Zumpt;  but  which,  from,  some  misunder- 
standing, we  believe,  between  tiiem  and  the  Edinburgh  publishers,  has  passed 
into  other  hands.     The  edition  before  us  is  well  adapted  for  school  use. 


(24.)  "  Religion,  with  or  without  rank,  wealth,  beauty,  rare  endowment,  varied 
accomplishment,  or  any  singularity,  can  litl  Woman  to  the  highest  distinction 
and  contcr  the  most  enduring  glory — that  of  filling  well,  not  the  narrow,  but 
the  wide  and  divine  realm  of  lIuMi:."  Such  a  distinction,  and  such  a  glorv, 
certainly  belong  to  the  subject  of  the  '■'•Memoir  of  Mar>/  L.  Ware,  Wife  of 
Henri/  ] ['a re,  jr.,  by  Edwakd  B.  Hall,"  (Boston:  Crosby,  Xichols  &  Co., 
18.53  :  12mo.,  pp.  -13  4,)  now  belore  us.  A  true,  talthful  daughter,  wife,  mother, 
friend;  with  no  eccentricities,  no  extravagances,  no  marvellous  qualities  of 
head  or  hand;  but  with  an  honest  truthfulness  of  nature,  a  willing  spirit  of 
self-sacrifice,  and  an  cvt;r-lovIng  heart — such  was  Mary  L.  Ware.  It  is  by  such 
women  that  woman's  rii/hls  are  best  vindicated  by  the  steadfast  performance 
of  women's  duties.  Jlrs.  'Ware's  religious  life  was  pure  and  unspotted;  and 
had  she  lived  in  a  warmer  atmosphere  of  Cliristian  feeling,  slie  would  have 
been  a  mo<lel,  besides,  of  Christian  experience. 


1853.]  Theological  315 

(25.)  ''Meyers  Unicerswa"  (New- York:  II.  J.  :Moyer,  IGl  William-st.)  con- 
tinues to  appear  -with  praisewortliy  punctuality.  I'art  XI.  contains  views  of 
Liege  and  Seraing;  a  riew  on  Lake  George;  Alcazar  in  Segovia  (Spain); 
and  Trajan's  Arch  in  Benevento  (Italy).  In  Part  XII.  Ave  find  tlic  folloAving: 
"WaU-strcet  (Xew-York) ;  The  X'apoleon  Cohinm  on  the  Place  Ycndume  in 
Paris;  Environs  of  Cuma  and  Lago  D'Averiio,  with  Lago  de  Fussard;  and 
the  General  Post-office  (Washington). 


(26.)  Of  the  following  pani])hlets,  essays,  sennons,  &c.,  we  regret  that  we  are 
unable  to  give  anything  more  than  the  titles : — 

A  Tract  for  the  Times,  or  Elemental  Contrast  hctwecn  the  Religion  of 
Forms  and  of  the  Spirit,  by  S.  S.  Schmcckki:,  I).  1). 

An  Appeal  to  Christians.  A  Sermon,  publi-hed  by  request.  By  Robert 
Allyx,  a.  ]\I.,  Principal  of  Providence  Conference  Seminary. 

The  Balm  of  Gllead,  a  Missionary  Sermon,  by  Lvmax  A.  Eddy.     1So2. 

a  Discourse  delivered  by  II.  P.  Tai'PAX,  D.  1).,  at  Ann  Arbour,  jNIichigan, 
on  the  Occasion  of  his  Inauguration  as  Chancellor  of  the  University  of  Michigan, 
Dec.  21,  1S52. 

A  Funeral  Discourse  on  the  Death  of  Robert  Craig,  Esq.,  Richmond,  Ya., 
Jan.  9,  ISoO.     By  Rev.T.  Y.  :\[oonK. 

Catalog-ue  of  Dickinson  College,  for  the  Academical  Year  1852-3. 

Sixth  Annual  Report  upon  the  Common  Si-hools  of  Xcw-Hampshire,  the 
same  being  the  Second  Annual  Report  of  the  Puard  of  Education  of  the  State 
of  Xew-IIampsliIre.     June,  1852. 

A  Contrast  between  the  Erroneous  Assertions  of  Prof.  Schof  and  the  Testi- 
mony of  Credible  Ecclesiastical  Historians  in  Regard  to  the  State  of  the  Chris- 
tian Church  In  the  :Middle  Ages.     By  J.  J.  J  am:  way,  1).  D. 

The  Clu-Istian  Ministry:  a  ,Scrmon  delivered  before  the  Xew-York  East 
Conference  of  the  ]\IethodIst  Episcojial  Churrli,  at  Hartford,  Conn.,  June  13, 
1852,  on  the  occasion  of  the  Ordination  of  I"l<krs.  J^y  Rev.  Daniel  Cmry,  a 
Member  of  that  Conference. 


Art.  IX.— religious  AXD  LITLHARY  IXTELLIGEXCE. 
3: 1)  c  0 1 0  g  i  c  a  1 . 

EUKOPE.\N'. 

The  elaborate,  and  in   miiiy  respects  in^f.In  ^1  \\ork.     His  present  work  is  di- 

eicellent,  Commentary  of  Baumgarton  on  vi.U.l   it.i.>    three   purts :    I.  The  Church 

the  Acts  of   the   Apo'stles   is    eomplctod.  aiMMiiu'_  lii'-   J.ws.      H.    The    Church    in 

We  have  received  the  second  division  of  tr.m-iM'Mi  U:>n\  the  Jews  to  the  heathen, 

the  second  part,  under  the  sub-title,  "  r-ii  Hi.    'fl'-'    t  lunch    aiaouR    the    heathen. 

Korinth    his  Rem ;"  (Ilraunschwcia-,  1S."»L*,  Th.-  lir^t  he  finds  in  tlie  tirst  seven  chap- 

8vo.,  pp.   525.)      r.anm2:artcu   belon5;s   to  ti.rs  i.l  the  Acts  ;  the  second  extends  from 

the /a'csf  school  of  Gcrnran  tlieologians—  tli-<  cit,'hi!i   to   the   thirteenth;    and    the 

that  is  to  sav,  to  the  most  orthoduK  ;  for  third  o.-cupics  the  remainin-  cliapters. 

the  tendencvof  the  German  mind  of  late  The    l'...n.pton  Lectures  for  1»52    were 

years  h.as  been  toward  the  early  ami  sim-  >!<-li\cr.d  Ly  iiuv.  J.  K.  Kiddle,  A.  M.,  and 

pie  belief  in  the  word  of  God  as  a  divinely  are    no,v    jaiLliohcd    under    the    title    of 


316 


Religious  and  Literary  Intelligence. 


[April, 


"  Tke  Natmxil  Historj  of  hfiddiUj  and  Su- 
perstition," (Svo.,  pp.  y'-'O.) 

"  The  Life  and  Ephths  of  St.  Bxul,"  by 
Coxyeafj:  &  HovMix  (London,  2  vols. 
■Ito.),  is  now  complete  J,  and  is  pronounced 
by  Kuropean  critics  the  most  valualjle 
contribution  thnt  bas  been  made  of  late 
years  to  Biblical  Literature — certainly  the 
most  elaborate  and  complete  work  on  !St. 
Paul  that  has  ever  appeared.  The  follow- 
ing extract  from  the  intnuluetion  explains 
the  plan  on  which  the  authors  have  pre- 
pared the  work  : — "  To  comprehend  the 
influences  under  which  he  grew  to  man- 
hood, we  must  realize  the  position  of  a  Jew- 
ish family  in  Tarnis,  the  '  chief  city  of  Ci- 
licia  ;'  we  must  understand  the  kind  of  edu- 
cation which  the  sou  of  siu  h  r.  family  would 
receive  as  a  boy  in  hi-;  Hebrew  home,  or  in 
the  seliools  of  his  native  city,  and  in  his 
riper  youth  '  at  the  feet  of  Gamaliel '  in 
JerusaJem;  we  must  be  acquaint'jd  with 
the  profession  for  which  he  was  to  bo 
prepared  by  this  training-,  and  ajiprc- 
ciate  the  station  and  duties  of  an  ex- 
pounder of  the  lav.-.  And  that  we  m;iy 
be  fully  qualified  to  do  all  this,  we  slmidd 
have  a  clear  view  of  the  state  of  the  ]t.>- 
nuin  Empire  at  the  time,  and  especially 
of  its  system  in  the  jirovinces  ;  ve  shoubl 
also  understand  tiie  pK)litic;>.l  positi'Oi  of 
the  Jews  of  the  '  disjicrsion  ;'  we  should 
be  (so  to  speak)  hearers  in  their  syna- 
gogues;  we  should  be  students  of  tlieir 
llabbinical  theology.  And,  in  like  man- 
ner, as  we  follow  the  apMstle  in  tl;e  dilf.T- 
ent  stages  of  his  varied  and  adrcntiUMUs 
career,  we  must  strive  contiimaily  to  biin^' 
out  in  their  true  bri<,'htness  the  lK\ll'-ct!aci.(l 
forms  and  colouring  of  the  scene  in  which 
he  acts  ;  and  while  he  '  becomes  all  thiusrs 
to  all  men,  that  he  miL,'ht  by  all  mcms 
save  some,'  we  must  form  to  ourselves  ;i 
living  likeness  of  the  r/iiV/«  and  of  the 
vien  among  which  he  moved,  if  wc  woubl 
rightly  estimate  his  work.  Thus  we  must 
study  Christianity  rising  in  the  midst  of 
Judaism,  we  must  realize  the  position  of 
its  early  Churches  with  their  mixed  soci- 
ety, to  which  Jews,  proselytes,  and  hea- 
thens, had  each  contributed  a  character- 
istic element;  we  must  qualify  ourselves 
to  be  umjiires  (if  we  may  so  speak)  in 
their  violent  internal  di\i-.ions;  we  must 
listen  to  the  strife  of  their  schismatic 
parties,  when  one  said  '  I  am  of  Paul,  and 
another,  I  am  of  Apollos  ;'  we  must  study 
the  true  character  of  those  early  heresies, 
■which  even  denied  the  resurrection,  and 
advocated  im].urity  and  lawlessness,  claim- 
ing the  right  '  to  siu  that  grace  might 
abound,'    '  defiling    the    mind    and    con- 


science '  of  their  followers,  and  making 
them  '  abominable  and  disobedient,  and 
to  every  good  work  reprol^ate ;'  we  must 
trace  the  extent  to  Vi  hich  Greek  philoso- 
phy, Jtidaizing  formalism,  and  eastern  su- 
jicrstition  blended  their  tainting  influence 
with  the  pure  fermentation  of  the  new 
leaven  which  was  at  last  to  leaven  the 
W  hole  masj  of  civilized  society. 

"Again,  to  understand  St.  Paul's  per- 
sonal history  as  a  missionary  to  the  hea- 
tlicn,  we  must  know  the  state  of  the  dif- 
ferent populations  v.hich  he  visited ;  the 
char.K-tor  of  the  Greek  aud  Roman  civili- 
zatiim  at  the  epoch ;  the  jioints  of  inter- 
section between  the  political  history  of 
the  world  aud  the  Scriptural  narrative  ; 
the  social  organization  and  gradation  of 
ranks  for  which  he  enjoins  respect;  the 
position  of  women,  to  which  he  specially 
refers  in  many  of  his  letters  ;  the  relations 
between  parents  and  children,  slaves  and 
masters,  which  he  not  vainly  sought  to 
imbue  v.ith  the  loving  spirit  of  the  gospel ; 
tb.e  quality  aud  influence  under  the  earlj- 
cmpire  of  the  Greek  and  Konian  religious, 
whose  effete  corruption  he  denounces  with 
indignant  scorn  ;  the  public  amusements 
of  the  people,  whence  he  draws  topics  of 
warning  or  illustration;  the  operation 
of  the  Roman  law,  under  which  he  was 
so  frequently  an'aigned ;  the  courts  in 
which  he  was  tried,  and  the  magistrates 
liy  whose  sentence  he  suflered ;  the  le- 
gionary soldiers  who  acted  as  his  guards; 
the  roads  by  which  he  trav.lled,  whether 
through  the  mouutains  of  Lycaonia  or  the 
marshes  of  Latitim ;  the  course  of  com- 
merce by  which  his  journeys  were  so  often 
regulated  ;  and  the  character  of  that  im- 
perfect navigation  by  which  his  life  was 
so  many  times  endangered." 

The  first  volume  of  a  new  and  copious 
commentary  on  the  Epistles  of  St.  Johji 
has  appeared  under  the  title  of  "  Die  drei 
Jiih'inn-^ticlii.n  Bri'fc,  mit  cinem  volhtiin- 
di'/rii  Thcologinclicn  Commcntarc  ron  Dr. 
F.  l^isTKumKCK."  (Gottingen,  1352;  pp. 
.".02. )  Ihis  volume  contain.-;  a  copious 
intr.'duction  (pp.  1-112.,  treating  of  the 
form,  contents,  aud  origin  of  the  first 
Epistle,  and  can-ying  on  the  commentary 
to  chap,  i,  28.  The  second  volume,  com- 
pleting the  work,  is  promised  in  about  a 
year. 

'Hiv  "J-i]irh:,riicr  del-  IW.ischcn  Witi^ai- 
srl'ift,  von  lh-.iM;icH  Ewald,  (viertes  Jahr- 
buch,  1Sj1-1Sj2,)  has  made  its  appear- 
ance ].romptly.  It  is  full  of  E«  aid's 
trenchant  criticisnis  and  fierce  assaults ; 
but  yet,  as  a  rcford  of  current  Diblical  lit- 
erature, it  is  of  great  value. 


1853.] 


Theological. 


317 


"We  have  received  tlie  first  lunulicr  of 
"  Pirotegtantischc  iFonaUhl Utter  fdr  iwi-rc 
Zeitgeichichle,  herausg.  von  Dr.  H.  Gix- 
2EE."  (Decemlcr,  1S52,  Gotlia.)  It  is  to 
be  a  magazine  of  religious  and  theological 
literature  for  all  classes  of  cultivated  peo- 
ple -within  the  limits  of  evangelical  Prot- 
estantism. 

"De  Chrlitologia  Riulina  coutra  JJctiiriiim 
Commeniaiio,  fcnjMit  J.  F.  PiAEEigev.  (Vra- 
tisl,  18j2  ;  Svo.,  pp.  03) ,  gives  an  adequate 
summary  of  P.aur's  Pauline  Christology 
in  eleven  pages,  and  occupies  the  remain- 
ing eighty  in  refuting  it. 

JIe.  Blackadee  (13  Paternoster-llow, 
London)  issues  a  new  edition  of  tlieliible, 
which  must  be  of  great  value  according 
to  the  announcement,  v.hich  is  as  follows  : 
— "This  edition  is  framed  on  the  model 
of  the  Chronological  Xew  Testament,  and 
in  a  similar  form,  Init  it  will  have  import- 
ant enlargements  in  the  way  of  general 
utility.  In  addition  to  the  improvements 
of  the  Xew  Testament,  it  will  embo<ly  the 
chief  variations  to  be  found  in  the  Clrien- 
tal  interpreters,  viz.  :  tlie  Samaritan,  the 
Septuagint,  the  Vulgate,  the  Syriac,  the 
Arabic,  the  Ethiopic,  the  Persic,  and  the 
Chaldee  Paraphrases ;  so  as  to  put  ordi- 
nary readers  in  substantial  possession  of 
all  that  is  valuable  in  the  expensive  Poly- 
glot of  AValton.  It  was  said  by  the  late 
Di-.  Samuel  Lee:  '  The  purr/ 1/  (hont^il 
character  and  structure  of  the  Old  Tr^tmnnit 
defies  in  a  thousand  trni/s  the  cff'irt'-  fi/'-!ntj'~ 
niou3  conjecture,  and  dcihitiidi  dueiditti'mn  de- 
rived from  Oriental  rrararch.'  Thisnuthoil 
it  is  one  object  of  the  present  edition  to 
apply  to  it.  But  the  rcadiii'js  of  thi>o  ver- 
sions, unless  one  knows  well  Iwuv  to  uvc 
them,  and  what  value  to  attach  to  tlicni,  are 
of  comparatively  little  use  to  the  ordinary 
student  of  the  iUble.  It  is  not  intended, 
therefore,  to  print  these  verbatim,  \*irhli 
would  be  more  curious  than  useful,  but 
to  give  at  tlie  end  of  each  book  of  the  I'i- 
ble  a  b<jdy  of  notes,  consistincr  of  tliorou,'h 
scholar-like  matter  from  the  best  sourcis, 
and  from  v\ell-trained  Hebrew  seholar-s. 
The  work,  at  the  same  time,  will  lic  adapt- 
ed to  the  ordinary  classes  of  readers,  ^^llO 
will  thus  have  the  means  of  employing  the 
Bible  as  its  own  interpreter;  the  great 
objects  accomplished  being  the  removal 
of  artificial  lumlranees,  and  the  sujiply  of 
ample  as  well  as  of  judiciously  c!:'.->iti>-d 
materials  for  '  comparing  spiritual  thing's 
with  spiritual.'" 

We  called  the  attention  of  our  reudors 
some    time    ago    to   Professor    Mauriee's 


•'  Nineteen  ?trmons  on  the  Old  Testa- 
ment," whiih  treated  of  the  historical 
parts  of  the  Sacred  Itecord  up  to  the  days 
of  Samuel.  A  second  volume  has  now 
nppi'arid.  under  the  title,  "  The  Prophets 
and  KiuijH  fj  the  Old  Testament,  a  merits  of 
S'-nii'iiii,  by  Fi;ki.f.i:ick  Uexisox  Maueice, 
I'rofosor  of  Divinity  in  King's  College, 
Ix>ndon.  Cambridge,  1853,  pp".  ■4>>0."  In 
Ills  preface  the  author  says: — 

"The  conviction  has  been  fixing  itself 
deej.ly  ill  my  mind  that  the  Old  Testament 
ought  to  lie  read  much  more  simply  and 
according  to  the- letter  than  we  are  used 
to  nad  it;  that  we  have  not  made  its  ap- 
jdication  to  our  own  individual  cases  more 
elf  ir  by  overlooking  its  obvious  national 
i-harneteristics  ;  that  if  we  had  given  heed 
to  them  we  sliould  have  found  an  inter- 
jiretation  of  some  of  the  greatest  difficul- 
tii-s  i!i  liistory  and  in  the  condition  of  the 
World  iirouiid  us." 

The  aim  of  Professor  Maurice  in  this, 
as  in  his  former  ^ohlmc,  is  to  show  that 
the  narratives  as  well  as  the  precejits  of  the 
(tld  'JV>tament  are  full  of  principles  ap- 
jilicHble  to  individual  and  national  life  in 
all  tiuRs.  The  following  passage  will  il- 
lustrate his  method: — 

"  It  may,  for  instance,  be  very  true  and 
v<Ty  n<.(  dl'ul  to  remember  that  the  height 
of  S.itifs  stature  .and  the  comeliness  of  his 
p<  r>oii,  had  much  to  do  with  his  being 
mad-  the  first  king  of  Israel.  But  if,  in- 
stead of  s.iylng  that  the  people  elected 
liim  for  tjiis  reason,  we  follow  the  Scrij>- 
turo  narrative  strictly,  and  say  that  he, 
bein,'  tt  memlicr  of  an  insignificant  family 
in  the  .•m.iHist  tribe  of  Isr.ael,  and  there- 
fore Ixiu^  most  unlikely  to  be  selected 
by  till'  poplc,  ami  having  no  dream  of  any 
sacli  honour  for  himself,  was  marked  out 
by  <iod  as  the  person  on  whom  He  would 
bistt.w  it — I  bL-lievc  Ave  shall  obtain  a 
li:.-ht,  not  upon  this  fact  only,  but  upon 
a  inniritudc  that  have  occurred  in  the 
lii-i..ry  of  the  vorld,  which  stand  in  great 
need  of  explanation,  and  are  certainly  not 
<.\li'ainid  by  the  commonplaces  of  ordi- 
n.iry  n.tr.-;it..rs.  even  if  they  call  thcm- 
seh.s  i-hilosophical.  In  a  number  of 
taais  iihc  annals  of  every  nation,  and  of 
aliiiost  ivi-ry  age,  supply  some)  an  incon- 
ci  ivably  tritling  incident,  as  fritting  as  th-at 
if  S.iu!  -oingont  in  search  of  his  father's 
a— es,  has  brought  forth  the  man  whom  a 
P'i'l-le  f.ol  to  be,  not  selected  by  them, 
1  ut  given  to  ihem ;  whom  they  aili.pt  and 
embrace,  they  know  not  why;  and  who, 
v.l:et!ur  or  not  he  is  able  to  gtiide  and 
^'ovirn  tlietn,  proves  to  be  a  faithful  rep- 
resentative of  their   own   state  of  mind. 


31! 


Religious  and  Literary  Intelligence. 


[April, 


the  very  type  and  emboJiincut  of  that 
character  aud  those  liabits  of  mind  wliioh 
they  are  themselves  exhibiting.  'I'liis  is 
the  fact.  It  has  uothiu;,'  to  do  with  the- 
ories about  who  are  or  ought  to  Ik'  the 
choosers  of  a  ruler,  with  the  maxims 
which  guide  or  should  guide  their  choice 
of  him.  He  is  there;  he  comes  to  them. 
Whether  you  like  it  or  not,  you  must  re- 
fer, you  do  refer,  his  aij[iearance  to  some 
invisible  agency.  You  may  call  that 
agency  Chance,  if  you  like.  If  you 
know  no  other  name,  that  is  of  course  the 
one  which  you  will  resort  to.  If  you  are 
content  with  it  there  is  no  more  to  be 
said.  But  mankind  has  not  been  content 
with  it.  Men  have  said,  tliero  must  be 
an  order  in  these  events  apiarently  so  for- 
tuitous. They  have  insisted  u[)mu  kni)wing 
something  about  that  order  and  wlio  di- 
rects it.  If  now,  in  tliis  nineteenth  cen- 
tury, this  century  of  science,  you  choose 
to  say  there  is  Hr>  order  in  all  tliis — your 
language  at  all  events  sounds  as  if  you 
■were  retrograding  not  progressin-,',  as  if 
you  were  falling  back  upon  the  crudest 
notions  of  harbarism." 

A  new  translation  (in  German)  of  Jo- 
sephus's  Jewish  Antiquities  has  appeared 
under  the  title  "  Die  Judiivlun  Allcrthtimcr 
ties  Ilacitia  Josrphu^,  iiicrtittxt  uiid  mit  Aii- 
mcrkmirirn  vere-fhen  ton  Dr.  A".  Jfurtiu." 
(Kohn,  1SJ2;  l:?mo.,  pp.  GfJS.)  Dr.  Mar- 
tin is  Professor  of  (l!oman  Catholic;  The- 
ology in  the  University  of  Doim. 

"  LVjo-  den  uUe  iiitd  nciilietitmeiitlirhrn 
Ctthiis,"  (Stuttgardt,  18.32,  Svo..  pp.  -'73,) 
is  a  treatise  by  Dr.  Erxkst  SAKTonius, 
(whose  practical  essay  on  the  "  IVrson  of 
Christ"  has  been  translated  and  pu1>- 
lished  in  this  country,)  on  the  Sabbath 
and  Worship  of  the  old  aud  new  di-peiisa- 
tions. 

The  last  issues  of  Clark's  Foreign  The- 
ological Librarj-  are.  The  Christian  Doc- 
trine of  Sin,  exhibited  by  Dr.  Jiuis 
Mui.r.Eii,  Professor  of  Theology  in  Halle, 
translated  by  Willi.a.m  Pixsyor-P,  \o\.  I. : 
aud  A  General  Historico-Critical  Intro- 
duction to  tlie  Old  Testament,  by  H.  A. 
Haveekick,  translated  by  Wii.u.vm  Lind- 
say Alexander,  D.  D. 

We  have  received,  but  have  not  been 
able  clusely  to  examine,  '•  Da-  Cuhdr,- 
brief,  ubergtUt  in  ncin.;,  <j,  <rl  ;,},t/i,l,.u 
Kczichuwjcn,  unta-stuht  imd  cr,'./,;,/  mn  Dr. 
Adoi.fHiLGENI-klD."  (.Leipzig,  1^'J;  Svo., 
pp.  240).  It  gives  a  generaf  iutroduetiou 
to  the  Epistle  (pp.  1-i.tG;  ;  niij  then  di- 
vides the  ex^wsition  of  the  text  intj  three 


parts :  1.  The  apologetic  part  to  chap,  ii, 
21.  2.  The  dogmatic  part,  chap,  iii,  iv. 
3.  The  hortatory  part.  «rf^/i";i.  (pp.  9G-234.) 
The  Appendix  gives  an  essay  on  the  chro- 
nology of  Paul's  labours. 

"  Chajitcrs  on  the  Teach  in  f/  of  the  Roman 
Church,  prm-inij  it  to  be  un.icriptnral,  absurd 
and  scmuli'ov.-j,  by  Henuy  I'ish,  ]\L  A.," 
(London,  1S">3  ;  12mo.,  pp.202,)  is  a  work 
intended  to  present  an  abbreviated,  but 
nevertlieless  a  clear  view  of  the  dogmatic 
theology  of  the  Komau  Church,  derived 
from  undeniable  authorities.  It  shows  (1) 
that  Home  proscribes  the  Bible :  (2)  that 
she  perverts  the  Sacraments  :  (3)  that  she 
makes  worship  sui)erstitious  and  idola- 
trous :  (4,1  that  she  usurps  unauthorized 
dominion  over  soul  and  conscience  :  and 
{o}  that  she  sustains  that  ursurpation  by 
persecution  and  cruelty.  We  notice  that 
the  writer  makes  much  use  of  Dr.  Elliott's 
great  work,  "The  Delineation  of  lloman 
Catholicism," — that  vast  repertory  of  facts 
and  arguments  on  the  Ilomish  controversy. 

Wk  have  received  the  second  volume  of 
"  77/0  Greek  T-iiaincnt,  for  the  use  of  Theolo- 
gical Students  and  Mininters,  by  Hexi'.Y  Ai.- 
KORD,  15.  D.,  late  Fellow  of  Trinity  College, 
Cambridge."  (London,  182.5 ;  8vo.,  pp. 
GST.)  This  volume  contains  the  Acts  of 
the  Apostles,  with  the  Epistles  to  the 
Romans  and  Corinthians.  It  furnishes, 
together  with  a  critically  revised  text,  a 
digest  of  various  readings ;  marginal  ref- 
erences to  verbal  and  idiomatic  usage; 
Prolegomena  to  each  book,  and  a  critical 
and  esogetical  commentary.  The  pecu- 
liarities of  the  work  are : — 1.  The  text  is  ar- 
ranged on  critical  principles,  regard  being 
had  to  the  internal  evidence  for  and  against 
every  reading,  as  well  as  the  external  evi- 
dence of  manuscripts;  2.  The  reasons  for 
adojjting  or  rejecting  any  reading  are  given 
in  the  digest ;  ?,.  The  digest  ]aofesses  to 
give  a  complete  account  of  the  various 
readings.  It  will  probably  take  two  more 
volumes  to  complete  the  work.  i 

We  continue  our  statement  of  the  con- 
Lents  of  the  principal  foreign  theological 
Journals. 

The  Thcoh'fjischc  Studicn  und  Krltiken, 
(Hamburg.  January,  1S33),  contains  the 
following  articles  :— L  Melancthon  and  his 
Disciidcs  as  Moral  I'hilosophers,  by  Dr. 
Schwarz  of  Jena  :  II.  Josephus  and  his 
Greek  and  Hellenistic  predecessors — a  let- 
ter from  Dr.  1'.  Kreuzer :  IIL  Un  the  origin 
of  the  Usage  of  folding  the  liands  in  prayer, 
by  Professor  Vierordt  of  Karlsruhe  :  IV. 
Observations  on  the  SipiriijoQa  Maymi,  by 
Dr.  lleideuhclm,  of  Worms :  V,  A  review 


1853.] 


Thcolo":ical. 


319 


of  Hofmann's  Schri/thciteis,  by  F.  Aubcrten  ; 
YT.  A  review  of  Ewald's  Antiquities  of  the 
Jewish  People,  by  Metzger :  VII.  Tiie  re- 
fusal of  the  Archbishop  of  Freiburg  to 
allow  the  burial-service  for  the  Arch-Duke 
Leopold  of  Baden,  by  Dr.  Ullniaim :  VIII. 
A  Memorial  of  J,  G.  Eichhorn,  by  Dr.  Um- 
breit. 

Echclic  Rn'mc,  for  Xovember : — I.  The 
Museum  and  the  National  Gallery:  II. 
Pascal:  III.  :Meuioirs  of  the  Baroness 
B'Oberkirch  :  IV.  Australian  Progress  :  V. 
Wright's  Celt,  Roman,  and  Saxon :  VI. 
Cooper's  Free  Church  of  Christendom: 
Vn.  Horace  St.  John's  British  India :  Mil. 
Government  Persecutions.  Dccrmbrr : — T. 
Flourens  on  Geoffrey  Saint-Hilaire  and 
Philosophic  Anatomy':  H.  The  Papacy- 
Its  History  and  Genius  :  III.  The  (Jreat 
Salt  Lake  and  the  Mormons :  IV.  Life  and 
Letters  of  Judge  Story  :  V.  History  of  the 
Council  of  Tre^nt :  VI.  I'ncle  Tom's  Cabin 
and  its  Opponents  :  VII.  Pastoral  TIh-oIol'v 
. — Power  in  the  Pulpit.  Janwu-y : — I.  Tlio 
Hungarian  Struggle  and  Arthur  Corgoy : 
IL  Scottish  Prea'chers  and  lYeaching :  III. 
Thackeray's  History  of  Colonel  Esmond : 
I\'.  British  South  Africa :  Y.  Solwan ;  or. 
Waters  of  Comfort :  M.  Keligious  Persecu- 
tions in  Tuscany:  VU.  The  Distribution 
of  the  Keprescntation.  Fchrunry: — I.  Na- 
tional Educatiou--Local  Scheme  :  II.  Lord 
John  Russell's  Memoirs  of  Thomas  Moore  : 
m.  The  Defence  of  Christianity :  IV.  Tlie 
Colloquies  of  Edward  Osborne  :  V.  Catli.>lic- 
ism  in  the  Nineteenth  Century  :  VI.  Mars- 
den's  Hi:<torv  of  the  Later  Puritans:  VI I. 
The  Method'ist  Theory  and  Practice  of 
Excommunication. 

North  British  Jircicxr,  for  Febrv.ary:— L 
The  Prospects  of  France  and  the  Daii-.rs 
of  England:  II.  Scottish  Phih.sophy  :  ill. 
The  Sabbath  in  the  Nineteenth  Crntury: 
I\',  European  Navigators  in  Early  Tinu-s  : 
V.  Litton  on  the  Church:  VI.  Pri'ges-ive 
aspects  of  Literature — recent  E-says  :  \  II. 
The  Universe  and  its  Laws :  Vlll.  (lovcrn- 
ment  of  the  East  India  Company  :  JX.  The 
■  Legal  Profession  and  the  County  C-.urts. 
Weatmimter  Eivictc,  for  January  :— I. 
Mary  Tudor :  II.  Condition  and  Pro-i>'.'cls 
of  Ireland:  III.  Charitr,  noxious  and  bono- 
ficent:  IV.  The  English  Stage:  \.  AkutI- 
can  Slaverv,  and  Emancipation  by  ttie  Free 
States:  VI.  The  Atomic  Theory,  before 
Christ  and  since :  VU.  Historv  an.l  LUas 
of  the  :Mormons :  VIH.  Daniel  ^yel..tcr : 
IX.  Contemporary  Literature  of  England, 
America,  Germany,  and  France. 

IrUh  Q:icirter!i/  lievieic,  for  December  : — 
L  Untranslated  Novelists— Alphon^e  Karv : 


IL  The  Streets  of  Dublin,  and  Anecdotes 
of  the  City  and  Citizens  before  the  Union  : 
HI.  Lady  P.lessington :  IV.  Mr.  Worsaae 
on  the  l">anes  and  Norwegians  in  Ireland. 
Y.  Ileail's  "  Tour  in  Ireland  :"  VI.  Thack- 
eray's "  Esmond." 

Kittu'i  Ji/'irnul  of  Sacird  Literature,  ioT 
January:— I.  Why  have  the  Greek  and 
Romau'Wiii-n-s  so'ranly  alluded  to  Chris- 
tianity? IL  The  Rt;phaim  (concluded}: 
III.  Moses  Stuart:  IV.  Ewald  on  the  IVo- 
phets :  V.  The  Resurrection  of  tlie  Body : 
VL  Auricular  Confession:  YIL  H<-brew 
Literature  :  VIII.  Who  are  the  "  Spirits  in 
Prison'.'"  IX.  Hippolytus  and  his  Age. 

E'lhilnirijh  7^rieip,  for  January  : — I.  Bun- 
sen's  Hi[>polytus  and  his  Age:  H.  Jervis's 
History  of  the  Island  of  Corfu  and  the 
Ionian"  Islands :  HI.  Saul  of  Tarsus :  IV. 
HunL'ariim  Urvolution :  V.  Cathedral  Re- 
form :  VI.  Our  Indian  Army :  VU.  Mon- 
talenibert:  VJII.  Mrs.  Jameson's  Legends 
of  the  Madoniui  as  represented  in  the  Fine 
Arts:  IX.  Fall  of  the  Derby  Ministry. 

Jlritish  Qiiartprf'i  licvieir,  for  February  : — 
I.  Buuscn's  Hippolytus — the  Ancient  and 
M.>dern  Church:  IL  Giuseppe  Giusti — his 
Life  ;u:d  I'oetry  :  III.  Rio  de  la  Plata — its 
latest  History:  IV.  Middle  Age  Travellers 
in  the  East:  V.  iMaekay's  Preligious  De- 
velopment, iu  Greece:  VI.  Project  of  the 
Crystal  Palace  Commissioners:  VU.  The 
Anatomy  of  ]>espotism. 

(,>.,., rt.rl;i  Jin-inr,  f,,r  December  :—L 
V.iuxli.ill  Factory  Schools:  II.  Life  and 
I.ittcr>  nf  J-.i-tice  Story:  IIL  Indian  Ad- 
ministraiioii — East  India  Company's  Pos- 
^c.-Nir.ns:  IN'.  Meteors,  .\erolites,  and  Shoot- 
ing M.ir, :  V.  Cloister  Life  of  Churks  V.: 
V!.  M-^ntak-nibert  on  Catholic  Interests": 
VII.  P.riiisii  Mu.eum:  VIII.  Memoirs  of 
\S,..rdsu.,.-th:  IX.  The  Budget  and  its 
Results. 

Uii'/lUh  /iVi-rcir,  for  January : — I.  Bun- 
s<Mi's  II ip[>..l_vtus:  II.  Kiugsley's Sermons  ou 
N.iti..iial  Sui.JLCts  :  IU.  Life  and  Times  of 
S;.  i^.riiard  :  IV.  Bandinel's  3Iilton  Daven- 
au:  :  V.  (nol.-y's  Africa:  VL  Missions  of 
thv  F.n  J.i-h  Church  :  VU.  The  Irish  Chiurch 
and  lur  i'rcspects. 

A'- 1'  Qtoirt'r/i/  Review,  for  January: — 
I.  R-  lrosp.>it  of  the  Literature  of  the  (Juar- 
tor:  11.  Miiore's  Memoirs,  Journal,  and 
Corr' -i"iMlcnce:  III.  Thackeray  and  the 
.\'.-'  of  <>ai.'on  Anne:  I\'.  Sntatterers  in 
()ri.!:t  il  I/iUrature:  V.  FaUitieations  of 
Yo.A:  \'l.  Whim-wharas  and  0[iinions  of 
Sir  ArehibalJ  .\Hson,  Bart.:  Vll.  India— 
h..w  the  Hindu  Tlir.all  is  ruled:  VIII. 
Anecdotes  of  Wellington :  LX.  Miss  Strick- 


320 


Religious  and  Literary  Intelligence. 


[April, 


land's  Xives  of  tte  Queens  of  Scotland : 
X.  Sir  Francis  Head's  Fortnight  in  Ireland. 

Amoxg  tlie  new  v.ovks  in  Thoolopry  and 
kmdred  subjects  recently  announced  in 
Great  Britain  are  the  following  : — 

Apostolical  Missions;  five  sermons 
preached  before  the  University  of  Caiu- 
hridge  in  May,  ISoi!,  by  W.  1'..  lloi-- 
Kixs,  M.  A. : — Faith  confirmed  by  Uoason 
and  Authority;  the  Hulsoan  Lectures 
preached  before  the  University  of  Cam- 
bridoe,  lS5i',  by  the  Rev.  G.  Cckuky,  15.  1)., 
preacher  at  the  Charterhouse,  and  Koyle's 
Lecturer  : — The  Revival  of  the  French  Kni- 
perorship  Anticipated  from  the  Xece>sity 
of  Prophecy,  by  GEop.ni;  Stanley  Fai-.E!-., 
B.  D.,  Master  of  Sherburn  Hospital,  and 
Prebendar)-  of  Salisbury,  fcap.  •'^vo.,  cloth  : 
— Also,  by  the  same  author.  The  Dilficul- 
ties  of  Eomanism  in  respect  to  Evidinco ; 
or,  the  Peculiarities  of  the  Latin  Chtirch 
evinced  to  be  untenable  on  the  principles 
of  legitimate  Historical  Testimony;  third 
and  cheaper  edition,  revised  and  remould- 
ed. 8vo.,  cloth  : — St.  Paul's  Epistles  to  the 
Corinthians ;  edited,  with  critical  notes 
and  dissertations,  &c.,  by  the  Itev.  A.  P. 
Staxlet,  2r.  A.,  Canon  of  Canterbury,  late 
Fellow  and  Tutor  of  University  College, 
Oxford.  Svo. :— St.  Paul's  Epistles  to  the 
Thessalonians,  Galatians,  and  Pvomans ; 
edited,  with  critical  notes  and  disserta- 
tions, by  the  liev.  B.  Jowett,  M.  .V.,  IVl- 
low  and  Tutor  of  Baliol  College,  Oxford. 
8-0. :— A  History  of  the  Christian  Cl-.urch, 
for  the  use  of  students  in  iheolo,'y  and 
general  readers;  Part  L,  to  the  lli.t'ur:ua- 
tion ;  by  Kev.  Jaues  C.  Rodeiitsox,  M.  A., 
Yicar  of  Bekesbonrne,  near  Canterbury. 
2  vols.,  8vo.:— The  Rise  of  the  Papal  P..wcr, 
traced  in  three  Lectures,  by  Ro2ir.UT  IIus- 
SEY,  B.  D.,  Regius  Professor  of  I^ccksia-iti- 
cil  History: — ^Memorials  of  the  Eiulish 
Martyrs,  by  the  Rev.  C.  B.  Taylor,  M.  A., 
Rector  of  Otley ;  with  upwards  of  thirty 
engravings ;  in  post  Svo. : — John  de  AViclif, 
a  Monograph ;  including  an  account  of  the 
Wiclif  iMSS.  in  the  British  ^duseuni,  Ox- 
ford, Cauibridgo,  Lambeth  Palace,  and 
Trinity  College,  Dublin  ;  with  a  portrait 
and  a  series  of  illustrations  from  drawings 
taken  at  Wiclif  and  Lutterv.orth  :  l>y  Ron- 
"RT  Yaugiiax,  p.  D.  One  vol.,  small  4to  : — 
^lodcrn  Rationalism,  and  the  Inspiration 
of  the  Scriptures,  by  Rev.  T.  R.  I'.ir.KS, 
M.  A.,  Rector  of  Kelshal ;  in  foolscap  f-'vo. : 
— The  Footsteps  of  Iminauucl  on  the  Lake, 
by  Rev.  Georok  S.  ^VElDEJLvxx,  incum- 
bent of  Kiugswood,  Gloucestershire  ;  in  one 
vol.,  foolscap  Svo. : — The  Jesuits,  a  His- 
torical Sketch,  by  Rev.  K.  W.  Giuxfielp, 


in  one  vol.,  foolscap  Svo. : — The  Mission 
and  Martyrdom  of  St.  Peter ;  containing 
the  original  texts  of  all  the  passages  in 
ancient  writers,  supposed  to  imply  a  jour- 
ney from  the  east ;  with  translations  and 
Roman  Catholic  comments ;  with  prefa- 
tory notices  by  Rev.  Dr.  M'Caul  and  Rev. 
Dr.  Gumming;  by  T.  C.  Siiiox,  Esq. ;  Svo,: 
— Romanism  as  it  exists  in  Rome,  exhib- 
ited in  various  inscriptions  and  other  docu- 
ments in  the  churclits  in  that  city,  col- 
lected by  Hon.  J.  W.  Percy  ;  in  crown  >vo.: 
— Letters  to  a  Wavtrer  on  the  Romish 
Controversy,  by  Rev.  Samuel  Hoesox, 
LL.  B.,  Perpetual  Curate  of  Eutley, 
Suffolk;  in  linio. : — The  Jesuits  as  they 
were  and  are  ;  from  the  German  of  iHil- 
ler;  translated  by  Mrs.  Staxxey  CiXE. 
with  a  Preface  by  Sir  Culuxg  Eariilet, 
Bart. ;  in  foolscap  Svo. : — The  Religions 
Condition  of  Christendom,  exhibited  in 
a  series  of  papers  prepared  at  the  in- 
stance of  the  Evangelical  Alliance,  edited 
by  Edward  Steaxe,  D.  D.  ;  Svo. : — A  His- 
tovy  of  the  Jesuits,  their  origin,  progress, 
doctrines,  and  designs,  by  G.  B.  Xicoltxi, 
of  Rome ;  crown  Svo. : — k  Manual  of 
Budhism,  containing  the  Legendary  Life 
of  Gotama  Budha,  with  notices  cf  his 
predecessors,  and  an  account  of  the  cos- 
mology, ontology,  and  ethics  of  his  relig- 
ious system  ;  translated  from  the  Singal- 
ese,  by  R.  Srexce  Hai-.hy.  author  of  '•  East- 
ern Monachism ;"  demy  Svo. 

A.MOXG  the  books  in  Theology,  ic,  re- 
cently anuounced  on  the  continent  of 
Europe  are  the  following : — 

Jalirbucher  der  biblischen  Wissenschaft 
von  Hclnr.  Uicald.  4.  jahrb. :  lS51-o2. 
Gcittiugen,  1802.     234  pp.,  Svo. 

Geschichte  des  deutschen  Protestantis- 
mus  in  den  Jahren  loj.5-1581.  Darges- 
tellt  von  Dr.  IJciiu:  H^ppe.  1.  Baud.  Die 
Cieschichte  des  deutschen  Protestantismus 
von  1o5j-L0U2  enthaltend.  ;Marburj, 
ISJi'.     40S  pp.,  Svo. 

Die  Religion  und  das  Recht  der  Welt ; 
nebst  oinem  Anhang  uber  den  moralischcn, 
geistigcn  und  politischen  Charakter  un- • 
serer  Zeit.  Vou  Dr.  Cusf.  Widemtwnn. 
Nordlingen,  lSo2.     232  pp.,  Svo. 

Das  Evaugclium  Marcions.  Text  und 
Kritik,  mit  Rncksicht  auf  die  Evan^relien 
des  Mirtyrcrs  Justin,  der  Clement inen 
und  der  apostolischen  ^■;lte^.  Eine  Revi- 
sion der  neuern  Untersuchungcn  nach  den 
Quellen  selbst,  znr  Tcxtesbcstimraung 
und  Krklttrung  ihs  Lukas-Evan-eliiims. 
Vou  Dr.  a>ist.  \'olL„Mr,  ordentl.  Hauptlch- 
rer  der  altcn  Sprachcn  am  Gymnas:i:in  za 
Fulda.    Leipzig,  lb02.    VILI.'2GS  pp.,  Svo. 


1853.] 


Theological. 


321 


AMERICAN. 


Messes.  II.'ip.t'er  &  Beothf.rs  have  in 
press  the  "  Life  and  Litters  of  Dr..  Oun/' 
which  will  be  issued  in  two  volumes, 
12mo.,  within  the  present  week.  The 
work  will  be  one  of  great  interest,  not 
only  to  the  Church  in  whose  service  Dr. 
Olin  spent  his  life,  but  also  to  the  general 
public.  Besides  the  biography  proper,  it 
will  contain  a  very  large  collection  of  Dr. 
Olin's  letters,  with  sketches  of  his  char- 
acter by  Dr.  Bates,  Df.  "Wightman,  Dr. 
Lee,  Dr.  Holdich,  and  others,  illustrating 
different  points  of  his  life.  A  richer  sub- 
ject for  biography  has  not  been  ofiered  of 
late  years,  and  we  anticipate,  in  the  forth- 
coming work,  a  most  valuable  addition  to 
our  literature  in  this  department. 

In  the  second  volume  of  the  Life  and 
Writings  of  President  John  Adams,  wc  find 
the  following  reference  to  Captain  Webb, 
•whose  name  is  so  intimately  cunuccted 
with  the  early  history  of  Methodism  in 
America:—"  1774.  Oct' 2,},  Siuulaj/.—li'hi- 
ladelphia.] — In  the  evening  I  went  to  the 
Methodist  meeting,  and  heard  Mr.  V.'ebb, 
the  old  soldier,  who  first  came  to  America 
iu'the  character  of  quarter-master,  uuikr 
General  Braddock.  He  is  one  of  the  most 
fluent,  eloquent  men  I  ever  heard." 

The  ''Annual  Report  of  the  Stnubiij  S-hool 
Union  of  the  MethocUit  Epi-i'-ojxd  Chvrch 
for  IS53  "  (Svo.,  pp.  104)  gives  gratifying 
proof  of  the  constantly-increasing  intrrest, 
of  the  Chui-ch  in  the  .Suuday-sclu.ul  branch 
of  its  duties.  The  total  number  cf  hchools 
is  9,67 i,  being  an  increase  of  30S  over 
last  year's  enumeration :  numl^er  of  olli- 
cers  'and  teachers  98,031,  being  an  in- 
crease of  4, -170;  number  of  schnlurs 
504,679,  increase  31,368:  number  of  li- 
brary volumes  l,402,010,iucrcase  111,1"-' : 
number  of  Bible-classes  7,213,  increase 
1,179.  AVithin  the  last  six  years  the  in- 
crease in  the  number  of  schools  has  been 
Uco  thousand  nine  hundred  and  xijtij-thro; 
of  teachers  thirty-aix  thousand  nin-^  hundnd 
and  forty-one,  and  of  scholars  one  hunnred 
and  eighty-four  thoumnd  and  forlj-nme. 
The  department  of  publication  sho.vs  the 
usual  vigour :  numerous  addition,  have 
been  made  duirng  1S-j2.  The  present  cir- 
culation of  the  S.  S.  Advocate  to  regular 
subscribers  is  one  hundred  and  tm  thuiiMrnd, 
Who  can  estimate  the  Christianizing  ami 
civilizing  power  of  these  potent  agencies 
at  work  all  over  the  land  ? 

Messrs.  Carlton  &  Phillips,  200  :\Inl- 
hen-y-st.,  N.  Y.,  have  in  press  the  follow- 
ing works,  viz.: — New- York  :  a  Historical 
Sketch  of  the  Rise  and  Progress  of  the 


Metropolitan  City  of  America,  by  a  Xew- 
YouKEu  ;  with  engravings,  12mo.:— Lights 
of  the  World;  or.  Illustrations  of  Ch.arac- 
tcr,  drawn  from  the  Records  of  Christian 
Life,  by  Itiv.  .Joh.v  Stolt.htox  ;  12nio. : — 
Lives  ,.f  the  Popes,  from  the  rise  of  the 
lltinian  Cluireh  to  Pope  Pius  IX.;  12mo. : 
—Three  Months  under  the  Snow;  the 
Journal  of  a  Young  Inhabitant  of  the 
Jnra  ;  translated  from  the  French  of  J.  J, 
PoucirAr;  ISmo. : — Money:  its  Xature, 
Hi>t.iry,r>es,andBesponsibilities  ;  ISmo.: 
— Ca^"ton  and  the  Art  of  Printing;  from 
the  London  edition;  ISmo.: — Family  and 
S^.cial  ML-lodios;  a  Collection  of  Choice 
Tunes  and  Hymns,  especially  adapted  to 
Family  and  Social  Devotion;  by  Rev.  W. 
0.  HoYT  ;  8vo. : — Manual  of  the  Gospels  ; 
being  an  abridgment  of  the  Author's 
"  Harmony  aud  Exposition  of  the  Gospels," 
for  I'.'.c  use  of  Sunday  schools,  Bible- 
cLvsscs,  and  Families,  by  J.vjies  Stf.oxg, 
X.  .M. ;  lOmo. : — Fk\kk- Hakkisox:  The 
llistorv  of  a  V.'avward  Boy;  ISmo.: — 
The  Cliildren  of  the  Bible ;  ISmo. :— Quiet 
Thon.'hts  for  (>uiet  Hours;  ISmo.:— Old 
Huniioiroy's  Friendly  Appeals;  ISmo.: — 
Fathir  Rce\es,  the  Methodist  Class-Leader; 
a  brief  actount  of  Mr.  William  Reeves, 
tiiirty-four  years  a  class-leader  in  the  Wes- 
Uyan  Methodist  Society,  Lambeth,  by 
Liiwvi'.D  Coukeuoy;  ISmo.: — Manual  of 
P.iiilic.il  Literature,  by  W.  P.  Strickland  ; 
12WO. :— Tlie  Ri.^'ht  Way;  or,  Practical 
Lectures  on  the  Decalogue,  by  J.  T.  Cuaxe, 
A.  M.,  of  the  Xew Jersey  Conference. 

J.  r.  Maoei:,  .5  Cornhill,  Boston,  has  in 
press,  ".l/i/n\^tr«i/  Education  in  the  M'thodist 
Ejtii'coj.'d Church,  by  Rev.  Stephex  M.  Vail, 
X.  M.,  Pri)fessor  of  Biblical  Literature  in 
the  M.  K.  Biblical  Institute,  Concord, 
N.  H."  1  vol.  12nio.  The  work  will  ap- 
jicar  in  llie  course  of  the  present  month. 

J.  C.  RiKEU,  Fulton-street,  will  shortly 
i<5ue  "  .1  Ilitnntmi/  of  the  (jfospds,  in  the 
Grck  rfih--  r.-ccivcd  T'xt,  by  James  Steoxg, 
A.  M.,"  i.n  the  plan  of  the  author's  English 
Harmony ;  with  the  most  important  Various 
Readin.'-i,  brief  Grammatical  Suggestions, 
select  I'.iMical  References,  and  Chronolo- 
gical Notes,  for  the  use  of  students  and 
others.  The  work  will  be  beautifully 
jprinted  on  new  Porsonian  type  ;  one  broad 
12ni-).  volume  of  about  300  pages. 

METHODIST  SUSSIOXS. 
The  "  Thirlii-Fuurlh  Annual  R- port  of  the 
jn>iti>n<tnf  Su:-i'lj/  nf  the  Jf<tho<liit  Episco- 

yd  Church  "  for  I'^'jll  is  publi>hcd,  not  in 
pamphlet  form,  but  as  a  number  of  the 


322 


Religious  and  Literary  Intelligence. 


[April, 


Missionary  Advocate.  As  the  missionary 
year  will  hereafter  commence  with  Janu- 
ary instead  of  May,  the  Board  liiive  not 
deemed  it  necessary  to  print  a  full  pam- 
phlet Report  for  this  year.  Xevertlieless, 
the  present  document  is  unusually  valua- 
ble and  interesting — so  much  so  tluit  we 
think  it  advisable  to  put  its  prominent 
points  into  a  more  permanent  form  in  our 
own  pages. 

Aprp.orr.iATinxs  for  15-53. — On  the  Sth 
of  November,  l>6o2,  the  General  Mission- 
ary Cunuiiittee  met  in  Xew-York,  to  make 
the  appropriations  for  1S53.  After  ascer- 
taining the  wants  of  the  Domestic  Mis- 
sioxs,  the  question  was  taken  up,  ShiH  we 
extend  our  vumiiomiry  uoric  uhroadf  It  was 
necessiuy  to  determine  three  preliminary 
questions  in  order  to  answer  this  main 
question.  First,  V>'as  the  general  seuti- 
meut  of  the  Church  in  favour  of  such  ex- 
tension? On  this  point  the  Committee, 
the  Uisliops,  and  the  Board,  felt  no-doubt, 
as  their  general  intercourse  with  the 
Church,  as  well  as  the  resolutions  of  sev- 
eral Annual  Conferences  and  of  the  Gen- 
eral Conference,  and  the  correspondence 
with  the  office  of  thje  Corresponding  Sec- 
retary, gave  full  assurance.  The  second 
question  was.  Whether  the  Church  was 
able  to  sustain  an  extension  of  Ikt  mis- 
sions? Of  this  there  could  l)e  no  doubt. 
It  only  remained  to  iuqnire  whether  there 
were  tields  open  to  suck  extension?  It 
was  only  necessary  to  lift  uj)  our  eyes  and 
look  upon  the  fields,  for,  lo !  they  were 
already  white  unto  the  harvest. 

1.  Indin. — A  mission  was  authorized  in 
India,  and  it  will  bo  instituted  so  soon  as 
the  Bishop  can  commuud  the  services  of 
the  proper  men. 

2.  Jhi'ijiirin. — The  question  of  taking  a 
part  in  resuscitating  the  old  Oriental 
Churches  within  the  Turkish  empire  was 
then  taken  uji,  and  interesting  and  satisfac- 
tory information  was  produced  in  favour 
of  sending  a  missionary  into  the  country 
to  the  south  of  the  Danube,  into  Bulgaria. 
These  people  are  of  the  Greek  Church, 
though  not  of  the  Greek  nation,  and  are 
fallen  into  as  deep  superstition  and  dark- 
ness as  any  of  the  Oriental  Churches  ;  and 
yet  they  are  not  so  bigoted,  but  are  of  a 
mild,  inquiring,  religious  disposition,  and 
exceedingly  athirst  for  the  word  of  God. 
It  was  believed  to  be  our  duty  to  send  a  mis- 
sionary to  these  people  at  as  early  a  day 
as  practicable,  and  accordingly  the'liish.ip 
was  authorized  to  institute  a  mission  in 
Bulgaria.  It  is  believed  that  this  mission 
Can  be  prosecuted  without  much  difficulty, 


under  the  protection  of  the  Turkish  gov- 
erumeut,  which  has  granted  full  and 
universal  toleration  to  the  Protestant 
Churches. 

3.  France. — The  relations  of  France 
with  Europe  cannot  be  comprehended  ex- 
cept by  those  who  are  very  well  informed 
on  European  aflairs.  France  has  never 
been  thoroughly  Roman  Catholic  :  she  has 
been  jealous  of  the  Papal  authority,  and 
has  always  claimed  to  be  the  Gallic 
Church;  and  not  strictly  the  Iloiuan  Cath- 
olic Church,  but  the  Gallic  Catholic 
Church.  And  although  she  has  received 
the  institution  of  her  bishops  at  the  hands 
of  the  Pope,  she  has  never  yielded  to  him 
the  absolute  authority  to  a]>point  them 
without  her  knowledge  and  consent. 
Here  is  a  tangible  point  to  which  the 
Protestant  evangelical  missions  may  at- 
tach themselves,  and  find  favour  and  fruit 
among  the  people.  A  wide  door  was  open 
in  the  city  of  Nice,  in  Sardinia,  which  is 
the  gateway  on  the  Mediterraneau  between 
France  and  Italy.  An  intelligent  evan- 
gelical French  minister  was  in  the  midst 
of  the  work,  and  was  ready  to  prosecute 
it  if  aided.  The  appropriation  was  made, 
to  be  expended  under  the  direction  'of 
Rev.  Charles  Cooke,  T).  I).,  President  of  the 
French  Methodist  Conference.  We  have, 
therefore,  a  good  guarantee  that  the  ap- 
propriation will  be  well  expended. 

4.  Italy. — InfoiTuation  has  reached  the 
Board  that  the  door  is  wide  open  into 
the  higher  Alps,  on  the  borders  of  Italy, 
into  the  valleys  occupied  bv  the  good  and 
great  Felix  XefT.  The  French  Methodist 
Conference  now  occupies  this  region  by 
Mr.  Rostan,  one  of  their  missionaries,  and 
Dr.  Cooke  earnestly  appealed  to  our 
Board  to  enable  him  to  send  another  mis- 
sionary to  aid  Mr.  Rostan.  We  have  au- 
thorized him  to  do  so  for  us,  and  have 
made  him  a  grant  towards  employing 
three  other  suitable  men  who  are  ready- 
to  enter  the  work  if  he  could  receive 
them.-  Yet  we  have  kept  our  grants 
within  the  appropriations. 

The  details  of  the  appropriations  are  as 
follows: — 

Foreign  Missions. 

Pvesiilar  work  in  Liberia,  Africa S^O.OX) 

Monrovia  Seniin:ir>- ij.5iX) 

Eilueativu     of     inmiising     coloured 

yoiitlis,  mail)  or  female 1,500 

Fur  visit  of  Disliup  Scott,  and  for  an 
culai-^omi'iit  of  the  work  in  auiJ  be- 
yond tlie  r>epublic 3.000 

rtiiiia  Mi-:<ion Vi.cyii) 

. .     10,000 
..      4.000 


(i.rnwri  Mission 

iMiuth  American  Mission 


ToUl  for  Foreign  Missions 550,000 


1853.] 


Theological. 


323 


Domestic  Misaiont. 

German  MU-ions 43,300 

Foreign  pofiulations  other  than  German  10,2.jO 

Indian  Misiiuns 1;3,500 

English  Domestic    Missions,  including 

Oregon  and  Cilifornia 74,250 


Total  for  Domestic  Missions 5141,300 

Xew  Mif»ions. 

Fortheworkin  France S2,50() 

For  the  commencement  of  amission  in 

Bulgaria,  in  Turkey 5,000 

For  the  commcncementof  a  mission  in 

India :,.")00 

For  the  work  in  Sweden  and  Xorwav.         7.50 


Total  for  new  Foreign  Missions. ..  815,750 
Special  Appropriations. 
To  institute  a  mission  to  the  Germans 

in  California $2,000 

Sundrj-  small  appropriations 950 


Total S-'IO.OOO 

The  Report  nest  proceeds  to  explain  at 
length  the  plans  for  raisin;,'  Missionary 
funds  established  at  the  last  General  Con- 
ference, (Discipline,  Part  iii,  chap,  iv ;) 
and  also  the  plan,  or  rather  the  machinery, 
for  carrylni^'  on  the  Missionary  work  itself. 
Then  follows  a  summary  of  the  Missions 
themselves,  which  we  condense  as  fol- 
lows : — 

Clasnjlcation  of  2Hssions. 
Our  missions  are  divided  into  t  wo  princi- 
pal classes,  Domestic  and  Foreign.  The 
Domestic  Missions  are  subdivided  into 
three  classes: — 1.  Missions  to  those  who 
speak  the  English  language  in  the  desti- 
tute or  new  portion*  «f  the  ^wuutrj-; 
2.  To  the  Indians;  3.  To  the  foreigners 
who  have  settled  together  in  various  por- 
tions of  the  country,  and  in  particular 
quarters  of  our  cities.  Of  these,  our  mis- 
sions to  the  Germans  are  the  most  numer- 
ous and  successful;  but  we  have  missions 
to  the  Swedes,  Danes,  Norwegians,  and 
French.  As  our  D^imestic  are  our  ohu-st 
missions,  and  at  present,  perhaps,  the 
most  important,  we  will  speak  of  them 
first. 

Domestic  Missiowi  Proper. 
Confereaces.  MU-  Mi53ijn-  5Iemb.rra.  TroUi- 


Baltimore 4 

Philadelphia IG 

New- Jersey I 

Trovidence It) 

New-England 29 

New-York 0 

New-York  Kast 11 

New-ltanipshire....  10 
>Vestern  Virginia...   IG 

Troy 11 

Vermont 

Pittsburgh ,> 

Klaek  Kiver ].> 

Maine 12 

East  Maine 10 

Wyoming 7 

Erie 8 


4 

104 

2-2 

Ifi 

1,714 

GSO 

1 

100 

17 

ir, 

72S 

1.54 

20 

1,.5S2 

75 

9 

270 

71 

11 

'^7G 

59 

IG 

1,-304 

2(9 

10 

2,747 

714 

11 

1,190 

C-'s 

"-> 

131 

19 

l.-| 

0.'-0 

4S 

12 

.590 

51 

19 

1,5C.J 

Z'')' 

8.1 

S 

C2S 

lti«i 

Cooftrcnccs,                  Mis-  Mission-    Mem-  Pioba- 

•i.ms.  aries.  b«n.  Moain. 

Oneida 7  7  7S4  74 

East  Gene.soc 12  12  1,202  292 

North  Ohio S  8  1,227  2ii 

Ohio 3  .3  6S  2 

■Wiseon.siu 41  41  2,614  CTO 

Gencsr.'i. 4  4  20>  24 

Michigan 2  2  2i'>S  70 

Kock  Kivcr 15  15  1,0>1  1.3 

Cincinnati  and  Ky..  :.'7  27  2,409  49 

Iowa 5  5  5.54  ia> 

Missouri  and  .\rk...   57  G9  4,767  65S 

llliii..i.> 8  8  4.52  04 

S.iuthiin   Illinois:..  IC  10  2.007  C21 

X.  W.  I„.li:,„a 4  4  2r2  40 

Nuriii  ItMliana 13  12  1,102  317 

S.  Y.    ludi.uia 11  82  U 

Indiana 10  10  I.ISO  354 

Or.",-..n 23  23  475  170 

California 3S  33  534  193 

Tout 493    505        35,334     6,839 

Indian  Jfigaioiis. 

i  £    i 

.3     .|  I  I     ^ 

S    S  S  b    ij 

Mi.ssoiiri 4    5  144  60  .. 

M'isi-onsln 1    1  l:^^ 

Illa.k  lUv.-r 11  20  11   '.'. 

Ont-lila,— oiicidas 1     1        25  10    1 

Onondagas 11         44  1     1 

Michlgan,-Notowuy  Indians  1    2  170  ,5i)    1 

Kazior      Mission  1     1  2iy>  6    2 

Janes ville         "13  1S3  15  .. 

"          Kaut  St.  Marie  "12        O-J  12  .. 

Kcwaweuon     "11        47  11  .. 

Total 13  17   1,031  176  ~5 

G^rmnn  Miwonn. 

Mis-  Mission-  STtin-  rrl,-.-  L.  P. 

si.ns.  ttrie.s.  bera.  li..aers. 

New-York  District,  15  15  GOO  24S  9 

Cincinnriti           •'  9  14  SW  222  16 

ritU-inir-U          "  10  12  993  131  7 

North  Ohio         "  10  15  041  1S.5  6 

St.  Loiiii             "  1.!  \:i  815  15.5  10 

Mir*s<,uri              "  12  13  Cj5  193  IS 

Qulncy                "  8  10  581  80  4 

Iowa                    "  8  13  450  113  10 

W;..  ..n-iu           '■  10  14  4')5  279  5 

Snith  lipliuna    "  12  14  1,149  224  5 

North        "         "  8  12  511  los  4 

115    145     7,734  2,0';4      94 
SwediaU  Minion'!. 

Mil-  Mission-  Mem-  Proba- 
sions.    aries.     b#rs.  lionsra. 

Ni'w-York  Conference...  1        2         «        "3 
Kock  lUver  "         ...  i        3        07.5        3^ 

2        5        310        70 
M'eWk  Mianons. 

Mis-  Mission-  Mem-  Pr  !.a-  I,  P. 

riU~bvr.-h  Conf j"""*'-  ^\^"'^'^'       4 

r!.> -k  lUvcr  "     1        1  p,5        o          3 

<'>"'''l^            "     1         1  57       ..           3 

N'>r'.h  Ohio   "     1        1  15 

Wisconsin      "     i        1  ij       ..         [[ 

Cincinnati     "     1        i  no  ivtu'm. 

Olilo               •'     1        1  12      u 

7        7        245      19        10 


324 


Religious  and  Literary  Intelligence. 


[April, 


Nonregian  Missions. 

Mis-  Mission-  Mem-  Proba- 
Bions.     arics,      bers.    tioncrs, 

"Wisconsin  Conforence  —  1        3       US       30 
Iowa  "         ....1       1         -21 


Fraich  Jlissiow. 
New-York  Conference..  .1       1 


Black  paver 
Michisan 


1 
..1        1 


30 


3        a  04  9 

Foreign  3Iissionii. 

OuE  For.EiGX  Missions  are  necessarily 
few,  and  as  yet  small  in  iufluoiice  and  ex- 
tent, because  tliey  have  been  but  recently 
instituted.  We  have  not  been  ori-:iniz<jd 
as  a  Church  yet  seventy  years,  during 
which  time  our  action  and  unexampled 
growth  have  necessarily  been  cuiitiued 
mainly  to  our  own  country. 

The  Aff.icax  ilissiox,  in  the  Republic 
of  Liberia,  on  the  western  coast  of  Af- 
rica, is  our  oldest  foreign  mission.  When 
the  American  Colonization  Society  laid 
the  foundations  of  this  Ilcpublic  by 
planting  a  colony  there,  many  members 
of  our  Church,  and  one  or  t^^  u  local  preach- 
ers, were  among  the  colonists.  These 
constituted  the  nucleus  of  the  mission 
•which  was  established  some  twenty  or 
twenty-five  years  ago.  It  has  cost  much 
treasure,  and  some  precious  live.'! ;  but 
the  fruits  of  it  are  inestimable.  It  is  now 
formed  into  a  re;;ular  annual  conference, 
comiKised  of  three  presiding  cldirs'  dis- 
tricts, each  with  its  circuits,  stations,  and 
day  and  Sunday  schools.  The  mission 
now  covers  the  whole  territory  of  Liberia 
and  the  territory  of  the  Maryland  colony 
at  Cape  Palmas,  and  has  access  to  the 
whole  colonial  population,  amounting  to, 
say  seventy-five  hundred,  and  to  the  nu- 
merous towns  and  villages  of  the  natives, 
•who  amount  to,  say  one  hundred  and  forty 
thousand.  The  annual  conference  con- 
sists of  twenty-one  members  in  full  con- 
nexion and  on  trial,  and  tljcre  are  in  all 
the  Churches  twelve  hundred  and  fifty- 
seven  communicants,  being  .about  one  in 
seven  of  the  whole  colonial  pojmlation. 
There  are  twenty  Sunday  schools,  con- 
taining seven  hundred  and  thirty-one 
scholars;  one  day  school  at  Cape  Talmas  ; 
and  one  girls'  school  at  Millsburgh,  under 
the  care  of  Jfrs.  Wilkins ;  and  a  fine  new 
academy  in  Monrovia,  under  the  care  of 
Rev.  James  W.  Home  as  principal.  And 
to  give  more  efficiency  to  this  mission  one 
of  onr  beloved  bishojis  (Bishop  Scott)  is 
at  this  present  writing  (Feb.  12)  in  Africa, 
superintending  the  conference,  ordaining 


the  missionaries,  and  making  himself  ac- 
quainted with  the  whole  work.  We  add 
the  latest  information  in  the  form  of  a 
table : — 

Ei|"l|l    "111 

cittcciis.         .S     'i  „  ai    "^         "-        ■-  m     K  ^ 
S      £    C    o-     «■     oj    ^         "■>,>.  3 

Monrovia 2J5    SS    0    1     10  11     1  3:5  1     40  . 

I,.  r.-.Iclwtll...   151     30     3     3     61  T     3  200  S     87  . 

U.  CaluwcU...  -,i  4  2  1  M  12  1  100  2  10  . 
itillsburi;    und 

WhitePlttins  11  1  S  1  15  12  1  ISO  2  65  . 
Hpfidin^n   & 

RnVrtsville.    54 

Marshall 24       2     11     32  1     1  4S  ... 

Itosa  &  Rliim  lil  16  3  111  15  3  250  3  65  . 
Sinoti            nud 

Keedsville...  190    25    2    3  140  IS    3  900  2    SO  . 

C>iiw  I'.alnms..  166    20    2    4  122  18    4  310  3    SO  S 

Ciipe  Mount 1     10  11  ...  1    10  . 

Lnnesboruugh 

(Nutivfi)., I     10  11  ...  1    10  . 

Peter     Harns 

(NaUveJ..„ I    10  11  ...  1     10  . 

1,130  121  20  20  131  100  20   l,f.4.3  IS  511     I 

Ouu  Chix.\  Mission  was  instituted 
about  seven  years  ago,  and  has  already 
offered  up  two  precious  lives  in  its  holy 
cause — Mrs.  Jane  Isabel  White,  wife  of 
Lev.  -M.  C.  White;  and  the  Lev.  Judson 
Dwight  Collins,  of  the  Michigan  Confer- 
ence. The  brethren  who  are  there  have 
unrestrained  access  to  the  people  of  Fuh- 
Chau;  and  are  preaching,  instituting 
schools,  and  translating  and  printing  the 
Holy  Scriptures  in  the  dialect  of  the 
province.  Fifty  years  ago  there  was  not 
one  Lrotestant  missionary  in  China ;  now 
there  are  nearly  one  hundred.  Twenty 
years  ago  China  was  accessible  only  at  one 
point,  (Canton,)  and  here  only  under  great 
restraint  and  jealousy ;  now,  the  five  prin- 
cipal cities  on  the  coast  are  freely  open, 
and  are  occupied  by  Protestant  missiona- 
ries, namely.  Canton,  Amoy,  I^ingpo,  Fuh- 
Chau,  and  Shanghai ;  and  through  these 
cities  free  access  is  had  to  preach  to  twenty 
millions  of  Pagan  Chinese,  and  to  distrib- 
ute books  throughout  the  southern  and 
eastern  parts  of  the  empire.  We  add  a 
list  of  our  missionaries  now  in  Fuh-Chau  : 

Rev.  Ji.  S.  Madaif,  Superintendent,  FiiTi- 
Chan,  China. 

Rev.  J/,  a  White. 

Rev.  /.  11'.  117%,  M.  D.,  Missionary 
Physician, 

Lev.  /.  Colder. 

These  gentlemen  are  all  married,  and 
their  wives  are  true  helpers  in  our  mission. 

Ol-r  Foukion-  Gekmax  Mission-  sprang 
ofit  of  the  work  among  the  Germans  in 
this  country.  Lev.  L.  S.  Jacoby  w.as  sent 
out,  with  instructions  to  establish  the 
head-iiuartcrs  of  a  mission  in  the  free  city 
of  Lremcn.     He  did  so  in  autumn,  1S49. 


1853.] 


Theological. 


325 


Tlie  word  of  the  Lord  immediately  began  to 
-take  effect,  and  to  spread,  so  that  it  was 
necessary  to  send  out  additional  mission- 
aries. The  mission  has  extended  itstlf 
fonnally  to  Hamburgh  on  the  North,  and 
to  Frankfort  on  the  South,  and  its  influ- 
ence has  penetrated  all  the  surrounding 
States,  and  is  established  in  the  kiugdom 
of  Wurtemburg.  We  give  a  list  of  the 
missionaiies  : — 

L.  S.  Jacohj,  superintendent. 

E.  Jiiimcnschncider,  Frankfort-ou-the- 
Maine. 

C.  U.  Docring,  Hamburgh. 

L.  Nippert,  Wurtemberg. 

H.  XiteUen,  Bremen  Circuit. 

W.  Ficge,  helper,     " 

—  Gluck,  helper  in  ^Yu^tembe^g. 

—  Wallo,     " 

Ehrliardt  ^^'unJcrUch,  helper,  Saxony 
mission. 

E.  C.  I'oppc,  I  Colporteurs. 

C-MirJimmi, ) 

Brother  Schnlnnaclier  is  Librarian  and 
Colporteur  without  pay. 

OcK  Socxn  Americax  Mission  is  now- 
confined  to  the  city  of  Buenos  Ayres.  it 
once  occupied  Monte  Video  also.  The 
chief  objects  of  this  mission  are — Fii-Ht, 
For  the  religious  instntction  and  comfort 
of  the  resident  Protestant  population ; 
Sccondlij,  To  exhibit  to  the  Roman  Catli- 
olic  population  the  pure  evangelical  gospel 
and  worship. 

r.ECKirTS  For.  1S52. 

That  the  Church  and  congregation';  may 
clearly  understand  the  state  of  the  Treas- 
ury during  the  year  lSo2,  and  be  able  to 
understand  what  is  necessary  to  be  dono 
iu  ISo?.,  we  -s-ill  here  set  down  tlic  re- 
ceipts during  18D2,  and  the  appropriations 
for  18G3:— 
Receipts  at  New-York,  1832,  $1:21,001  01 

"  "  Cincinnati,     "  •11,713  15 


Total. 


SI  05,71/ 


Counting  the  membership  of  the  Church 
at  700,000,  the  average  of  the  contribu- 
tions for  lSo2  is  23  7-10  cents  per  mem- 
ber very  nearly.  The  appropriations  for 
18.33  are  $210,000,  being  an  advance  over 
the  receipts  of  1852  of^S44.2s3;  and  to 
make  up  the  estimates  for  1S''3,  the  con- 
tributions, assuming  still  7(:)0,()00  mem- 
bers, must  be  exactly  30  cents  per  member 
throughout  the  whole  Church,  or  an  ad- 
vance on  the  contributions  of  twenty-tive 
per  cent.,  or  one-<]uarter  more  for  each 
member  this  year  than  last. 


Now,  if  every  member  w  ill,  from  a  sense 
of  duty,  give  twenty-tive  cents,  those  mem- 
bers who  L:i\e  more,  from  a  sense  of  duty 
and  from  ability,  will  make  up  the  amount 
rec]tiired  for  l^.'i^.  And  if  each  pastor  of 
a  Chunh  will,  timely,  and  in  an  earnest 
and  atfcctwn*i«*;  manner,  ask  hus  Churi-h 
and  congregation  to  make  their  arrange- 
ments to  do  this,  by  means  of  collectors 
provided  for  in  the  iJiscipline,  and  the  an- 
nual collection  and  contributions  on  some 
Sunday  iu  the  year,  the  money  will  be 
freely  and  gladly  contributed,  and  our 
missions  greatly  extended  and  generously 
supported. 

We  continue  our  statement  of  the  con- 
tents of  the  principal  American  Theological 
Journals  : — 

Mrcn-nhMrg  Quarterly  lievietc,  for  Janu- 
ary : — I.  The  r.eview  and  the  Quarterly: 
II.  Parochial,  or  Christian  Schools :  III. 
The  Church  of  the  Middle  Ages :  1^'.  The 
liehcmoth  and  Leviathan  of  the  Book  of 
Job:  V.  Dr.  Ncvin  and  his  Antagonists: 
VI.  Grrman  Theology  and  the  Church  Ques- 
tion. 

>'/■/■/•  -  Will  Uiptlst  l>vxu-tp.rbj,  for  January  : 
— I.  Iiitro<liictory :  11.  The  Progress  and 
Defects  of  Cliristlan  Civilization:  III.  Mo- 
dirn  Sceptical  Tendencies:  IV.  Daniel 
Wcb.tcr:  \.  Hebrew  Poetry:  VL  Soul 
Fre.dnm:  Vn.  lleligious  Biography  :  VIU. 

Notici-j. 

A'!'--1'))A-  Qimrtrrly,  for  Januarv  : — I. 
II.  \\'.  Kuierson:  11.  Life  and  Letters  of 
Niebuhr:  HI.  New  Works  on  Slavery:  IV. 
1  i;-.elo iures  from  the  Interior:  V. Bancroft's 
Fnitcd  States — from  the  French  of  Count 
Circonrt :  ^'I.  Science  —  European  and 
Anieriean  Ucsearches  :  VII.  Outline  Draw- 
ings :  VIII.  Scones  and  Thoucthts  in  Europe : 
l.\.  Kitto's  Daily  Bible  Illustrations:  X. 
C^'ntem](orary  Literature. 

Ki'ii,;i'lUiil  lufinr,  for  January: — I. 
Symbolism  not  opposed  to  Evangelical  TJe- 
liei'ii:  II.  Elemental  Contrast  "of  the  Re- 
ligion: IH.  Apstolic  Fathers:  IV.  Notes 
on  Proi'lieey  :  V.  Contribution  to  the  Cbrist- 
olo-y  of  the  Church  :  VL  The  Church  and 
her  Mini -.try. 

I!n>r„.,,n'j,  Qwrterhj  Bmcic,  for  Janu- 
ary :— I.  Tlic  Worship  of  Mary:  11.  The 
Two  Ord.Ts,  Spiritual  and  Temporal:  HL 
Fatb.r  Cury's  Moral  Theology:  IV.  Pro- 
te-i:iiitism  not  a  Religion:  V.  Catholics  of 
Kn-hiiid  and  Ireland. 

Th>-r>li,rjlrnl  mid  I.itrran/  JomtKi^,  for 
January  : — L  Dr.  Hitchcock's  Religion  of 
(Icolof_'y;  ]].  'I'he  neglect  of  the  Sacred 
Scriptures :  HI.  Dr,  \\'ordsworlh's  Lectures 


326 


Religious  and  Literary  Intelligence. 


[April, 


on  fhe  Apocalypse  :  IV.  A  Designation  and 
Exposition  of  the  Figures  of  ls;:ii;\h,  chap. 
xxiii:  V.  The  Fulness  of  the  Times :  VI. 
Mr.  Williamson's  Letter  to  a  Milleiiarian : 
VII.  The  reestablishment  of  the  Napoleon 

DjTl.lSt}'. 

XoHh  American  En-ieir,  for  January  : — I. 
Life  and  Letters  of  Niebuhr :  IT.  llerbort's 
Captains  of  the  Old  World:  lU.  Sir  Wm. 
Hamilton  on  Philosophy  and  F.duention  : 
IV.  Novels  and  Novelists  :  V.  AVcher's  Uni- 
versal History:  VL  Frero's  Version  of 
Aristophanes:  MIL  Fariiii's  Picpublic  at 
Eome  :  \'IIL  Nathaniel  Hawthorne. 

Chnitian  Examiner,  for  January  : — I. 
Eecent  Aspects  of  Judaism:  II.  Shall  we 
introdnce  some  Liturgical  or  Ilitual  Furins 
incur  Worship?  III.  Rellections:  IV.  The 
Council  of  Kphesus  :  V.  The  Evangelical 
and  the  PKilosophieal.  Spirit  in  Koligion  : 
VI.  Gray's  Addresses :  VII.  Bartol's  Dis- 
courses. 

Uniivrtaliiit  Quarterbj  and  IJcucral  KcKicie, 
for  January : — I.  Astronomy — Immortali- 
ty :  n.  The  Apostles  and  .Saints  judging 
Israel  and  the  World :  IH.  Couditiun  of 
Men  afar  Death  :  IN*.  Christ  and  tlie  Scrii)- 
tnres :  V.  What  must  we  do  to  be  saved  ? 
\1.  Literary  Notices. 

Biblical  liepo-t'jr'/,  for  January  : — I. 
Outlines  of  Moral  Seienee  :  11.  Kpistle  to 
Dlognetus:   ILI.   Mixleru  Milknarianisni: 


IV.  China  and  California:  V.  Theology  of 
the  Old  Testament:  VI.  "\'entilation  of 
Churches. 

BiLliotheca  Sacra,  and  American  Bihlicnl 
Jieji'tsiton/,  (Andover,)  for  January: — I.  So- 
crates as  a  Teacher :  11.  The  Right  Inter- 
pretatii-.u  of  the  Sacred  Scriptures — the 
Helps  and  the  Hinderances :  III.  The  Works 
of  Samuel  Hopkins :  IV.  Prolegomena  to 
Tischendorf s  New  Edition  of  the  Septu.a- 
gint :  V.  Outlines  of  a  Jouj-ney  in  Palestine 
in  IS'rJ,  by  F.  Robinson,  F.  Smith,  and 
others :  VI.  College  Course,  and  its  En- 
laigements  for  Graduates  :  VII.  The  Rela- 
tions and  consequent  Mutual  Duties  be- 
tween the  I'hilosopher  and  the  Theologian. 

&i(tJuni  Preshi/teriau  Jievieic,  for  Janu- 
ary : — I.  The  claims  of  the  English  Lan- 
guage :  II.  Unregeneraey  in  the  3Iinistry : 
HI.  The  Doctrine  of  Future  Punishment: 
IV.  Inspiration  versus  MoreU's  Theory :  V, 
The  Presbyterian  Church  and  Foreign 
Missions:  VI.  Our  Ecclesiastical  Litera- 
ture :  VII.  Necrology— Rev.  Wm.  H.  Burr, 
I).  D. 

Quarterly  lievicic  of  the  Mahodist  Fpisoo- 
f>al  Church,  South,  for  January  : — I.  Reason 
and  Revelation  :  II.  Fundamental  Element 
of  Church  Government:  HI.  Philosophical 
Necessity  :  IV.  Ecclesiastical  Forms :  V. 
Roman  Literature :  VI.  Inskip  on  Method- 
ism :  VIL  Zechariah. 


QIlaGGical  anh  illiocclla 

EUROPEAN. 


neons. 


We  have  received  the  first  volume  of  a 
copious  and  elal>orate  Life  of  Cicero,  under 
the  title,  Lchcn  dn  M.  TuUina  Cicero,  von 
C.  A.  F.  Beuckser,  Kr-,terThcU.  (Gilttingi-n, 
1852;  8vo.,  pp.  ^Q,o.) 

The  Second  Series  of  Mr.  Layard's  ".\[;nn- 
ments  of  Sincveh"  was  announced  for  pub- 
lication in  London  in  January,  but  we 
have  not  yet  seen  it.  It  is  to  be  in  one 
-^Shwue,  -  folio,  with  70  plates,  contain- 
ing Specimens  of  the  most  remarkable 
Sculptures,  lias-lleliefs,  Bronze-:,  Xc,  prin- 
cipally illustrative  of  the  Wars  and  Ex- 
ploits of  Sennacherib,  from  hi->  Palace  at 
Kouyunjik,  discovered  by  Mr.  Layanl  dur- 
ing his  second  visit  to  .U=yria.  It  has 
been  ascertained,  from  inscriptions  lately 
deciphered,  that  the  Palace  of  Knuyuiijik, 
excavated  by  Mr.  Layanl,  was  built  by 
Sennacherib,  King  of  Assyria,  and  tliat  its 
Sculptures  represent  events  recorded  in 
Sacred  History,  2  Kings,  chaps,  xvii  and 
xviii.  The  corresponding  treatise  forgeiieral 
circuJatiou  is  also  soon  to  be  issued  under 


the  title  of  Nineveh  and  Babylon :  being 
the  Narrative  of  a  Second  Expedition  to 
Assyria.  By  Austex  H.  Layaed,  M.  P. 
With  400  plates  and  wood-cuts.  One  vol., 
8vo. 

Thk  Encyclopocdia  Britnnnica  is  now  in 
j.ress  in  an  d<ihth  edition,  under  the 
editorship  of  Thomas  Stewart  Traill, 
-M.  I).,  F.  R.  S.  E.,  Professor  of  Medical  Juris- 
l-rudciice  in  the  University  of  Edinburgh. 
It  was  lir_-t  published  in  three  volumes 
4to.,  1771 ;  next  in  ten  volumes,  in  1778; 
in  ci-hteen  volumes  in  1797,  to  which  was 
abided  the  StrPLEMEKT,  in  two  volumes,  by 
Bisiioi-  Gleig,  in  1801 ;  this  was  followed 
by  an  edition  in  twenty  volumes,  in  1810, 
.and  other  two  editions  during  the  suc- 
ceeding ten  years ;  to  which  was  added 
the  celebrated  Sl-itleme.nt,  in  six  volumes 
4to.,  edited  by  Professor  Naput.,  com- 
menctd  in  l>slO,  and  finished  in  1sl'4. 
The  E>'jhth  Edition  will  undergo  careful  re- 
vision and  extensive  correction,  .\rticles 
rendered  imperfect  by  the  lapse  of  timo 


1853.] 


Classical  and  Miscellaneous. 


327 


will  lie  submitted  for  improvement  to 
writers  intimately  conversant  with  the  re- 
spective subjects,  whilst  other  articles  will 
be  superseded  by  entirely  new  contribu- 
tions, and  subjects  not  formerly  embraced 
in  its  pages  will  be  added.  The  First  Volume 
will  consist  of  the  Dissertations  by  Dugald 
Stf.w-aet  and  Sir  James  ^Iackintosh,  on 
the  Progress  of  iletaphysical  and  Ethical 
Philosophy ;  and  by  Professor  Playf.ur 
and  Sir  John  Leslie,  on  the  Progress  of 
Mathematical  and  Physical  Science.  In  the 
new  edition  the  Dissertation  of  Sir  James 
Mackixtosh  will  be  accompanied  with 
a  Preface  by  Vy'.  'WnEWEix,  I).  D.,  Professor 
of  Moral  Philosophy  in  tlio  University  of 
Cambridge.  To  these  will  bo  added  two 
Xew  Dissertations — the  tirst  by  the  Aech- 
BI5H0P  of  DiBLix,  on  the  Pise,  Progress, 
and  Corruptions  of  Christianity ;  the 
second  by  Jajies  D.  Foubes,  F.  K.  S.,  Profes- 
sor of  Natural  Philosophy  in  the  I'rdver- 
sity  of  Edinburgh ;  being  a  continuation 
of  the  Dissertations  on  the  Progress  of 
Physical  Science  to  the  present  time. 

"STiLrjAM  Eiipsos, — better  known  as  Prof. 
Empson,  and  editor  of  the  "  Edinburgh  Re- 
view,"— died  on  the  10th  iust.,  at  the  East 
India  College,  Haileybury,  in  his  sixty- 
third  year,  the  immediate  cause  of  his 
death  being  a  ruptured  blood-vessel,  Mr. 
Empson  filled  the  important  chair  of  Pro- 
fessor of  Civil  Law  at  HLiileybury, — a  chair 
formerly  occupied  by  2*Ialthus  and  Mackin- 
tosh. Mr.  Empson  was  educated,  first  at 
"Winchester,  and  afterwards  at  Trinity 
College,  Cambridge.  lie  married  Francis 
JefTrey's  only  child,  and  through  his  intlii- 
ence  succeeded  the  late  Mr.  Macvcy  Xapicr 
as  editor  of  the  "  Edinburgli  Picview."  ^Ir. 
Empson  is  said  to  have  written  some  sixty 
articles  for  the  "  Edinburgh  Review  :" — 
these  chiefly,  cf  course,  during  the  period 
when  he  was  not  its  editor,  lie  wrote 
chiefly  on  law,  the  condition  of  the  poorer 
classes,  negro  slavery,  domestic  politics, 
poetry,  and  general  literature  and  biog- 
raphy. Xo  questions  appeared  more  con- 
genial to  his  nature  than  those  which  de- 
nounced oppression  and  tyranny,  whether 
political  or  ecclesiastical ;  and  those  which, 
in  reviewing  the  lives  of  the  good  and  the 
great,  excited  a  train  of  moral  feelimjs. 
ilr.  W.  Cornewall  Lewis  has  been  chosen 
as  his  successor  in  the  editorship  of  the 
Edinburgh, 

The  older  editions  of  Svidas  have  be- 
come scarce  and  dear,  Figliteeu  years 
ago  Professor  G.  Beruhardy  began  to  revi.-e 
Gaisfurd's  edition  fur  republication,  and 
published  the  text   in  a  few  years  there- 


after, Ilis  labour  on  Suidas,  however, 
has  only  just  been  completed  in  the  final 
issue  of  the  Addenda,  Corrigenda,  and 
Indices,  together  with  an  Essay  on  Lexi- 
cography. The  whole  is  now  offered  under 
the  title,  "  S'lklre  Lcj-iron,  Grace  et  Latine, 
ad  Jid'  III  O^itimorum  Librorum  exactian  poat 
TniiJfAM  GAISFOnDCJI ;  nvennuil  ct  Annotr;- 
ttone  critica  iiiatnucit  GodofuEDUS  Bef.N- 
iLUiDY.  '2  vols.,  4to.  The  whole  work  can 
now  be  hail  for  about  twenty  dollars. 

Among  the  new  works  in  miscellaneous 
literature  recently  announced  in  Great 
Lritain  arc  the  following,  viz. : — 

^Memoirs  of  the  Court  and  Cabinets  of 
George  the  Third.  From  Original  Family 
Itocuments.  By  the  Dcke  of  Buckixgha.m 
and  CiiAXnos,  K.  G.,  Ac.  2  vols.,  Svo. : — 
A  Tour  of  Inquiry  through  France  and 
Italy.  Illustrating  their  jiresent  Political, 
Soci.il,  and  Religious  Condition.  By  Ed- 
jifNu  SrExcr.]!,  Esq.,  author  of  "  Travels  in 
European  Turkey,"  "  Circassia,"  &c.  2  vols., 
post  'Svo. : — Military  Life  in  Algeria.  By 
the  Count  P.  de  CASxr.rxASE.  2  vols.,  post 
Svo. : — Travels  in  India  and  Cashmir.  By 
Baron  Sckonkeug.  2  vols.,  post  Svo. : — 
Memoirs  of  Jolin  Aborncthy,  F.  R.  S. ;  with 
a  View  of  his  Writings,  Lectures,  and 
Character.  By  GEOUGr.  Macilwaix,  F.R.C.S. 
2  vols.,  ]>ost  bvo. ; — Fra  Dolcino  and  His 
Times :  being  an  Account  of  a  General 
Struggle  f«;r  Ecclesiastical  Refornr,  and  of 
an  .\nti-lleretieal  Crusade  in  Italy,  in  the 
Foiirti-enth  Century,  By  L,  Makiotti, 
Post  Svo. : — Mrs.  Jameson's  Legends  of 
the  Madonna,  as  represented  in  the  Fine 
Arts.  With  '>o  drawings  by  the  Author, 
and  102  wood-engravings.  Square  crown 
S>o. : — Es.-^ays  on  Political  and  Social 
Science,  coniriiiuted  chiefly  to  the  "  Edin- 
burgh Review."  l!y  WiLijAM  R,  Gr.EG.  2 
v..!s.,  f^vii, : — The  Earl  of  Belfast's  Lectures 
on  the  Ktiglish  Poets  and  Poetry  of  the 
Nineteenth  Century.  Fcap.  Svo.: — The 
History  of  Scotland,  from  the  Revolution 
to  the  extinction  of  the  last  Jacobite  Re- 
bellion 1 10x0-1743),  P.y  JoHX  Hill  Bun- 
T.-iN.  2  vols,,  Svo. : — Felice's  History  of 
the  Protest.uits  of  France,  from  l."i21  to 
l-^.-il.  Translated  from  the  second,  re- 
vi<:.'d,  and  corrected  edition,  by  E,  West,  2 
V.K.,  po«t  Svo. :— The  Indian  Archii<elago: 
Its  IlUtory  and  Present  State.  By  Horace 
Sr.  Juiix,  A\ithor  of  '•  History  of  the  British 
Conquest  in  India."  2  vuls,,  post  Svo, : — 
Meiiijriiis  and  Correspondence  of  Charles 
James  Fox,  Edited  by  the  Hox.  Lor.D 
John  Rissui.l,  ^I,  P.  2  vols.,  Svo.: — His- 
t..ry  of  the  Administration  of  the  East 
India  Company,    By  Joiix  William  Kaye, 


328 


Religious  and  Literary  Intelligence. 


[April. 


author  of  "  History  of  the  "War  in  Afghanis- 
tan." In  one  large  volume: — The  History 
of  the  Colonial  Policy  of  the  British  Em- 
pire from  1S47  to  IS^'il.  By  Hexuy 
Georgk,  Eafi.  Grky.  Iu  2  vols.,  8vo. : — In 
Svo.,  vrith  an  Index  to  the  ^vhole  work, 
The  Fifth  and  concluding'  Volume  of  the 
Letters  of  the  Earl  of  Chestertickl ;  in- 
cluding numerous  Letters  now  published 
from  the  original  MSS.  Edited  by  the 
Right  Hox.  Lord  ^Iahox  : — Narrative  of 
a  Journey  Bound  the  Dead  Sea  and  in  the 
Bible  Lands,  from  December,  1850,  to 
April,  1S51.  By  ¥.  Dr  Saulcy  (Member 
of  the  French  Institute).  Translated  by 
CocxT  F^DvvAF.D  DE  Warkex.  In  2  vols., 
Svo. : — Passages  from  my  Life :  to  which 
are  added  Memoirs  of  the  Campaigns  of 
1813  and  181-1.  By  BAt;o.\  vox  Mufflixg. 
Edited,  with  Introduction  and  Notes,  by 
CoLoxEL  PiiiLir  YoiiKE.  Iu  Svo. : — Mem- 
oirs of  Illustrious  European  Characters. 
By  Alphoxse  m:  LA^tAr.TiXE,  author  of 
"  History  of  the  Girondists."  In  Svo. : — 
Demetrius  the  Impostor ;  or,  Bomantic 
Episodes  in  Bussianlli-tury.  By  M.  Meki- 
MEE,  Author  of  "  Life  of  IVtcr  the  Cruel." 
In  crown  post,  with  Portraits  : — Narrative 
of  a  Religious  Journey  in  the  East  in 
1S50-J1.  By  the  Abbe  de  St.  Michoc. 
In  2  vols.,  Svo. : — The  Second  Burmese 
War.  By  Lieut.  "William  F.  B.  Lvur.in, 
Jtadra?  Artillery.  Li  one  volume,  with 
Map,  Plans,  and  other  Ilhistrations : — Kaf- 
fraria  anrl  its  Inliabitants.  By  the  Rev. 
Fkaxcis  P.  Flemixg,  Military  Cliaidain, 
King  William's  Tov.n.  In  one  volume, 
post  Svo. :— Two  Thousand  MUcs'  Ride 
through  the  Argentine  Pro^  inces  :  with  an 
Account  of  Buenos  Ay  res  and  the  Rio  de 
La  Plata.  By  William"  .M'Caxx,  I'.sq.  Two 
volumes,  post  Svo. : — Poetics  :  an  iJssay  on 
Poetry.  By  E.  S.  Dallas,  Esq.  In  one 
volume,  crown  Svo. : — The  Octavius  of 
Minucius  Felix ;  v.ith  an  Introduction, 
Analysis,  and  English  Notes,  by  the  PtF.v. 
H.  A.  HoLDEX,  M.  A.,  Fellow  of  Trinity 
College.  Edited  for  the  Syndics  of  the  Cam- 
bridge University  Press  : — The  Castlereagh 
Correspondence.  Including  the  Congress 
of  Vienna,  Battle  of  Waterloo,  &c.  Edited 
by  the  Mauquis  of  Loxdoxdehky.  Tliird 
and  last  Series  ;  4  vols.,  Svo. : — History  of 
the  Captivity  of  Napoleon  at  St.  Hele'na; 
from  the  Pajjcrs  of  the  late  Sir  Hudson 
Ljv.e.  As  well  as  from  Official  Documents 
and  other  Authentic  Sources,  not  before 
made  jiublic.  Portrait.  3  vols.,  Svo. : — 
Journal  of  a  Cruise  among  the  Islands  of 
the  Vi'estern  Pacific,  including  the  Feejecs 
and  others  inhabited  by  the  Polynesian 
Negro    Races.      Bv    Joiix    Eu-hixstoxe 


Erskixe,  Capt.  R.  N.  Map  and  Plates ;  Svo. : 
— Ten  Months  among  the  Tents  of  the 
Tuski,  and  Incidents  of  an  Arctic  Boat  Ex- 
pedition in  Search  of  Sir  Johu  Franklin, 
as  far  as  the  Mackenzie  River,  by  Lieut. 
W.  H.  HoorEE,  R.N.  Map.  Svo. : — Narrative 
of  an  Englishman's  Adventures  and  Resi- 
dence in  Abyssinia.  By  ^Iaxsfield  Pa- 
kyxs,  Esq.     Illustrations.     2  vols.,  Svo. 

Amoxg  the  works  in  miscellaneous  lit- 
erature recently  announced  on  the  conti- 
nent of  Europe  are  the  following,  viz. : — 

Denkmtiler  aus  Aegypten  und  Aethio- 
pien  nach  den  Zeichnungen  der  von  Sr.  M. 
dem  Konige  von  Preussen  Friedrich  Wil- 
helm  IV^  nach  diesen  Liindern  gesendeten 
u.  in  den  J.  1842-lS-io  ausgefuhrten  wis- 
senschaftl.  Expedition  auf  Befehl  Sr.  M. 
des  K'jnigs  herausgeg.  u.  erlautert  von 
O.  li.  L,:ij)sim.  Tafeln.  .5-24.  Lief.  Ber- 
lin, 1850-52.  200  Steintaf.  in  Bunt-u. 
Tuudr.  Imp.-Fol. 

Grammaire  persane,  ou  principes  de 
Firanien  moderne,  accompagnees  de  fac- 
simile pour  servir  de  modeles  d'ecriture 
ct  de  style  pour  la  corrcspondance  diplo- 
matique et  familiere;  par  Alex.  Chndzko, 
anc.  consul  de  France  en  Perse,  etc.  Paris, 
1852;  Svo. 

Vergleichende  Grammatik  des  Sanskrit, - 
Zend,  Griechischen,  Latcinischen,  Litthau- 
ischen,  Altslawischen,  Gothischen  u. 
Doutschen.  Von  Frz.  Bopp.  6  Abtheil. 
Berlin,  1851.     S.  1157-1511.     -ito. 

De  poesis  latinae  rhythmis  et  rimis, 
]iraecipue  monachorum.  Scripsit  Chr. 
Thph.  %hvch.     92  pp.,  Svo. 

Analecta  Horatiana  scripsit  Joannes 
Jlorl'-l,  Phil.  Dr.  Prof.  r.  collegii  Frider- 
ciani  Rcgimont.  Director,  Instit.  archaeol. 
Romani,  Aretinae  et  Pontanianae  soc.  ep. 
Berolini,  1852.     152  pp.,  Svo. 

Ch-undriss  der  Grammatik  des  indo-eur- 
opaischeu  Sprachstammes.  Von  Mor. 
ll'fpp,  Prof.  1.  Bd.  Auch  unt.  d.  Tit. : 
Vergleichende  Grammatik.  Encyklopa- 
dische  Abtheilnng.  Stuttgart,  18o2,  XII 
u.  250  pp.,  Svo. 

Enipedoclis  Agrigentiui  Fragraenta. 
Disposuit,  receusuit,  adnotavit  Ilenr.  Suin. 
I'raemissa  est  de  Enipedoclis  scriplis  dis- 
pulatio.     Bonnae,  1852.     88  pp.,  Svo. 

Pathologiae  cracci  Sermonis  elemnnta, 
von  Chr.  A.  I.ohccl;  ia  2  vols.   Vol.  I.,  Svo. 

Die  Sagenpocsie  der  Gricchen  kritisch 
dargestcllt.  Drei  Buchcr  von  Gnrjor  Wil- 
hfbii  Kitzxch.  Erste  Abtlieilung.  Erstes 
Buch ;  die  llonierische  Kunstepopoe  in 
nationaler  Tlieorie.  Svo. 


THE 

METHODIST  aUARTERLY  REVIEW. 

JULY,  1853. 

akt.  I— the  bacon  of  the  nineteenth  century. 

In  a  former  number  of  this  Review*  uc  exhibited  the  need  of  a 
second  grand  Instauration  of  tlie  Intellect,  and  the  reasonableness  of 
anticipating  its  early  accomplishment.  But  the  investigation  ^vhich 
led  us  to  those  conclusions,  however  imjiortant  in  itself,  "syas  under- 
taken chiefly  as  a  necessary  preliminary  to  the  examination  of  the 
characteristics  by  which  we  might  recognise  the  true  Coryphrousof 
the  new  reform,  if  such  recognition  should  be  deemed  possible,  and 
to  the  determination  of  the  validity  of  tlic  claims  already  alleged  in 
favour  of  M.  Comte,  or  hercafltT  to  be  advanced  in  favour  of  any 
other  system-builder,  to  be  esteemed  truly  the  Bacon  of  the  Nine- 
teenth Century.  These  are  questions  of  great  moment,  involving, 
as  the}''  do,  the  correct  estimate  of  the  present  necessities  and  pro- 
spective fortunes  of  existing  civilization ;  and  awarding  or  refusing, 
according  to  their  decision,  the  highest  intellectual  prize  which  is 
presented  to  human  ambition,  or  is  spontaneously  bestowed  when 
due,  as  the  loftiest  meed  of  intellectual  service  which  humanity  can 
confer  on  the  greatest  of  its  recognised  benefactors. 

It  is  with  a  proper  sense  of  the  magnitude  and  difficulty  of  the 
subject,  and  with  a  full  consciousness  of  tiic  necessity  for  extreme 
caution,  impartialitj',  and  sobriety  of  judgment,  that  we  venture  upon 
the  task  of  attempting  to  solve,  honestly  and  candidly,  however  im- 
perfectly, these  great  problems.  We  believe  with  a  firm  conviction 
that  the  completion  of  the  investigation  proposed  will  enable  us  to 
question  on  broad  and  elevated  ground.-  the  pretensions  advanced  in 
behalf  of  M.  Comte  by  his  zealous  but  indiscreet  followers,  and,  at  the 
same  time,  will  assist  in  expediting  the  coming  Instauration,  by  pre- 
shadowing  its  true  type.  If  it  sliould  ^till  leave  our  allegiance  free, 
■we  shall  at  least  be  rescued  from  the  imminent  perils  of  a  fatal  dclu- 
^'  July,  lS:c',  Art.  I. 

Fourth  Sekies,  Vol.  V.— 21 


330  The  Bacon  of  the  Nineteenth  Century.  [July, 

sion;  we  shall  be  better  qualified  to  detect  the  numerous  false 
prophets  vrho  may  yet  arise,  or  uioy  have  already  arisen ;  and  we 
shall  have  our  eyes  opened  to  the  (juick  discernment  of  the  real 
Bacon  of  the  Nineteenth  Century,  whenever  he  may  appear,  to  lead 
us  by  miraculous  ways  from  the  midst  of  our  present  Egyptian 
bondage.  But  to  attain  these  results  is  no  light  endeavour.  Those 
whom  Ave  are  about  to  summon  before  our  tribunal  are  no  ordinary 
suitors.  We  are  not  merely  to  decide  on  the  rights  of  the  ostensible 
litigants,  but  to  settle  the  prospective  claims  of  a  long  succession  of 
illustrious  philosophers,  perluips  as  yet  unborn.  If  M.  Comte  is 
accidentally,  or  in  consecjuence  of  his  merited  prominence,  the 
nominal  defendant,  it  is  not  merely  his  privileges  and  honours  which 
are  to  be  adjudicated,  but  those  of  au}^  who  may  hereafter  occupy 
a  like  eminent  position ;  and  to  him  wc  might  almost  address  the 
words  of  Anchises  : — 

"lUustres  anima?,  noitruiiKiue  iii  nomen  ituras, 
Expediam  Jictis,  et  to  tua  lata  Jocebo." 

The  subject,  too,  in  dispute  is  one  of  unusual  amplitude— so  unusual, 
indeed,  that  it  can  be  presented  l>ut  on  few  occasions  in  the  long 
lapse  of  centuries.  All  ages  are  before  us ;  and  the  greatest  intel- 
lects of  all  time  are  the  witnesses  on  whom  we  must  in  gi-eat  measure 
rely.  The  great  minds  of  the  present  and  iipproaching  generations 
are  th.e  parties  among  whom  we  are  to  judge;  the  evidences  which 
must  guide  our  ju<lg!neiit  are  to  be  gathered  from  the  obscurity  of 
the  past ;  the  persons  to  be  nlTocted  by  it  arc  many  of  them  still,  in 
all  probability,  in  '(}\c  dim  future,  while  the  destinies  of  a  trembling 
civilization  hang  uncertain  in  the  balance;  and  though,  perhaps, 
Httle  is  to  be  effected  by  the  criticism  of  any  single  individual,  yet 
all  these  things  must  be  estimated  by  us  with  such  acctu'acy  as  may 
be  compatible  with  our  pov/ers.  1 1  would  be  a  weak  and  ridiculous  pre- 
sumption to  contemplate  any  authoritative  decision  as  the  result  of  our 
inquiries ;  but,  so  far  as  we  may,  we  will  endeavour  to  raise  ourselves 

"To  tlie  hiirlith  of  \.\a<  froat  argument," 

and,  if  imablc  to  solve  the  dark  and  ar^luous  enigmas  propounded  to 
us,  wc  may  hope  at  least  to  determine  sume  of  the  conditions  of  their 
adequate  solution,  and  to  disclose  the  existence  of  important  topics 
of  nivcstigation,  but  little  apprehended  by  the  generality  of  minds, 
and  wiiose  ultimate  solution  may  possibly  be  expedited  by  our 
earnest,  though  unavailing  efforts. 

We  are  thus  inclined  to  link  the  cause  of  M.  Comte  with  the  great 
question  of  the  characteristics  and  essentials  of  all  efficient  intellectual 
renovation  throughout  all  time.     ^Ve  take  peculiar  pleasm-e  in  test- 


1853.]  The  Bacon  of  the  Nineteenth  Century.  331 

ing  his  claims  on  broad  and  general  grounds,  and  determining  his 
relation  to  a  great  crisis  by  considering  that  crisis  itself  in  its  his- 
torical relations,  instead  of  limiting  ourselves  to  a  special  analysis 
of  the  aptitudes  and  tendencies  of  his  philosophy,  and  narrowing  the 
inquiry  to  a  bare  examination  of  his  distinctive  doctrines.  For  ^I. 
Comte  \re  entertain,  and  have  uniformly  expressed,  the  utmost 
deference  and  respect — for  liis  labours  the  utmost  admiration ;  and 
though  Tve  deplore  the  supposed  tendencies  of  his  creed,  and  cannot 
consent  to  accept  his  system  as  comjJete,  conclusive,  and  exclu- 
sive— yet  no  intemperate  judgment  or  indiscriminating  opposition 
shall  betray  us  into  the  folly  of  rejecting  the  valuable  truths  •which 
he  has  enounced,  or  of  depreciating,  directly  or  indirectly,  the  eminent 
reputation  ^\-hich  he  has  deservedly  acjuired.  If  the  enthusiasm 
of  a  few  eager  acolytes  transceml  the  bounds  of  moderation,  we 
may  examine  how  far  their  praises  are  legitimate,  and  how  far 
they  are  exaggerated;  but  the  world  owes  too  much  gratitude 
to  M.  Comte  for  stimulating  and  assisting  the  social  speculation 
which  is  so  prctminently  required  by  his  ago,  for  us  not  to  be  more 
willing  to  bestow  undue  eulogy  upon  him  tlian  inadequate  commen- 
dation. It  will  readily  be  recognised  by  reflecting  men  that  the 
antagonism  is  not  the  less  earnest  or  uncompromising  which  is 
limited  to  what  v^'e  believe  to  be  his  errors ;  nor  is  the  resistance  less 
efficient  which  recognises  the  merits  and  the  prowess  of  an  adversary. 

Having  indicated  by  these  remarks  our  due  appreciation  of  the 
solemn  nature  and  difficulty  of  the  coutemplatL-d  inquiry,  we  proceed 
to  the  execution  of  our  task. 

It  will  be  our  first  duty  to  determine  the  essential  characteristics 
of  any  fresh  instauration,  in  order  that  by  the  results  of  that  induc- 
tion we  may  be  governed  in  our  estimate  of  the  requirements  which 
must  be  satisfied  by  any  philosojihcr  who  claims,  or  is  alleged  to  be 
the  second  Bacon  of  another  age.  It  is  in  this  part  of  our  specula- 
tions that  we  deem  it  expedient  to  recur  to  the  instruction  of  former 
times,  and  to  revert  to  the  experience  of  luunanity  in  previous  analo- 
gous crises  for  the  explication  of  the  present.  This  procedure  might 
have  been  useful  at  an  earlier  stage  of  our  investigations  for  the  full 
solution  of  the  questions  relative  to  the  need  and  the  probability  of 
a  new  instauration ;  but  as  those  points  admitted  a  sufficient,  if  only 
provisional  solution  from  other  sources,  we  left  them  without  directly 
availing  ourselves  of  such  assistance,  to  receive  further  illustration 
from  the  light  which  might  be  rellected  upon  them  from  the  researches 
on  which  wc  are  now  about  to  enter. 

In  the  previous  article,  to  wliicli  wc  have  referred,  we  specified 
three  intellectual  renovations  in  the  j)ast  history  of  iiurnanity  which 


332  The  Bacon  of  the  Nineteenth  Century.  [July, 

might  be  profitably  studied  with  a  view  to  a  correct  appreciation  of 
the  significance  and  necessities  of  the  present  times.  The  first  of 
these  is  the  age  which  we  may  conceive  to  be  represented  by  either 
Socrates  or  Aristotle,  according  as  we  are  desirous  of  studying  the 
reform  in  its  inception  or  genetic  idea,  or  in  its  systematic  develop- 
ment. To  these  names  we  might,  indeed,  have  added  the  almost 
equally  illustrious  name  of  Plato,  Avho  evolved  the  fundamental 
Socratic  idea  under  a  different  aspect  from  that  contemplated  by 
Aristotle,  and  formed  in  certain  respects  the  intermediate  link  be- 
tween Socrates  and  the  Stagirite,  in  others  the  antitype  of  the 
latter.  In  order  to  make  a  full  comparison  of  the  analogous  phe- 
nomena in  the  present  and  in  the  past,  it  would  certainly  be  in- 
cumbent on  us  to  include  the  Platonic  philosoph}''  in  our  examination. 
But  important  as  this  is,  both  in  the  general  history  of  intellectual 
progress  and  in  the  special  history  of  the  brilliant  speculative  age, 
which  it  so  largely  conduced  to  illumine,  it  would  be  difiicult  to 
justify  the  admission  of  Platonism  within  the  circle  of  inquiry  on 
any  ground  which  would  permit  the  consideration  of  the  various 
other  modifications  of  the  Socratic  movement. 

The  relation,  then,  which  Socrates  bore  to  the  intellect  of  the  age 
in  which  he  lived,  and  to  that  immediately  preceding  it,  is  the  first 
topic  which  engages  our  attention. 

After  the  early  philosophy  of  Greece  had  emerged  from  the 
dogmatic  and  mythical  form,  in  which  were  manifest  the  first  un- 
certain developments  of  speculative  inquiry,  the  Ionic  school  en- 
deavoured to  solve,  by  a  loose  experimental  method,  the  mysteries  of 
the  universe.  The  regular  succession  of  correlative  phenomena,  and 
consequently  the  uniformity  of  the  operations  of  nature,  were  soon 
recognised;  and  the  maxim  which  M.  Comte  has  made  the  test  of 
true  science,*  that  it  is  essentially  prophetic,  was  discovered  and 
acted  upon  by  Thalcs  and  his  school.  Thus,  although  loose  ethical 
speculation  preceded  the  introduction  of  natural  science,  the  latter 
assumed  a  scientific  character  long  before  either  metaphysics  or 
morals.  But  when  the  physical  philosophers  of  the  Ionic  school 
passed  from  the  circle  of  hastily-observed  facts  to  the  domain  of 
hypothetical  induction,  and  sought  in  the  abstract  an  explanation  of 
difficulties  similar  to  those  partially  solved  in  the  concrete,  their 
loosely-acquired  premises  were  a  source  of  constant  differences  of 
opinion,  which  were  received  or  rejected  under  the  play  of  a  heated 
fancy.  The  transition  from  observed  specialties  to  general  prin- 
ciples was  thus  made  })cr  sal/urn.  There  was  no  intimate  connexion 
between  the  base  and  the  supersti-ucture ;  and  reason  was  placed  at 
°  This  doctrine,  unquestionably  true,  ia  explicitly  dccUired  by  Aristotle. 


1853.]  The  Bacon  of  the  Nineteenth  Century.  333 

variance  with  herself,  and  was  soon  impeded  by  her  own  unrecog- 
nised contradictions.  It  was  impossible  to  understand  how  the 
observation  of  the  variable  and  ever-fluctuating  phenomena  of  the 
Cosmos,  or  world  of  experience,  could  justif}'  or  establish  the  uniform 
principles  which  were  essential  to  the  permanence  of  a  system  in- 
stinctively perceived  to  be  regular,  and  believed  to  be  eternal.* 
The  mind,  subjecting  itself  to  the  guidance  of  material  observation, 
was  unable  to  explain  its  conviction  of  speculative  truth,  or  to  de- 
scend from  the  principles  which  had  been  vaguely  suggested  to  it, 
to  the  explication  of  the  restless  changes  of  nature.  It  was  a  difficulty 
in  some  respects  analogous  to  that  experienced  by  Schelling  in  his 
attempts  to  link  the  transcendental  to  the  phenomenal.  The  confusion 
in  which  the  early  philosophers  of  antiquity  became  involved,  neces- 
sitated some  rectification  of  the  latent  error.  But  the  spirit  of  the 
times,  no  less  than  the  general  looseness  of  received  processes  of 
reasoning,  led  to  the  attempted  solution  of  every  difficulty  which 
might  be  encomitered  by  a  trivial  and  arbitrary  modification  of  the 
supposed  first  principle.  Thus  the  water  and  spirit  of  Thales  gave 
place  to  the  Infinite!  of  Anaximandor ;  wliile  the  pupil  of  the  latter, 
Ana.ximenes,  reverted,  in  some  measure,  to  the  doctrine  of  Thales, 
by  clothing  the  purely  ideal  Infinite  with  a  sensuous  vesture,  and 
regarding  the  air,  the  boundless,  all-ambient,  but  determinate  air,  as 
the  first  principle  of  all  things.  Ileraclitus,  and  other  philosophers 
of  the  saine  school,  adopting  the  same  licentious  mode  of  reasoning, 
espoused  principles  analogous  to  these.  ]>ut,  in  all  cases,  the  essence 
of  the  early  philosophy  was  a  rarefied  materialism,  which  beheld  the 
creative  agency  and  the  law  of  creation  merely  in  the  idealization  of 
natural  substances,  their  phenomena,  or  their  powers.  These  were 
obviously  insufficient  to  explain,  or  even  to  render  conceivable  the 
existence  and  action  of  the  individu'd  mind.  Men,  indeed,  had,  by 
these  systems,  cut  themselves  loose  from  tliat  intimate  union  with, 
and  sense  of  dependence  upon,  the  external  world,  of  which  the 

/'The  knotty  question,  indicatoJ  by  this  ronmrl;,  is  frequently  and  elaborately 
discussed  by  the  ancient  philosopher;-,  thouixh  scMuiu  satisfactorily.  The  case  is 
strongly  put  by  David,  Prolegg.  Thil.  ap.  Arist.  Schol,  p.  12,  cf.  Anonym.  Urbin, 
p.  546,  a.  32.  The  argument  turns  entirely  upon  n  confusion  of  metaphors,  and 
its  refutation  is  furnished  by  Aristotle,  McUph..  lib.  x,  c.  x,  p.  10G3,  a-b.  The 
sophism  had  been  previously  e.xposcd  by  Jli'racUtus  v.  Ammon.  Schol.  Arist., 
p.  35,  a.  not.,  and  I'hiloponus  in  Catog.,  p.  '^'>,  a. 

t  This  principle  may  be  compared  in  funu,  as  jn  vagueness  and  imposj^iblity  of 
definite  apprehension  or  legitimate  employment,  to  M.  IfoOnc  Wronski's  principle 
of  the  Absolute  or  Ineffable,  as  laid  down  in  his  Messianisme.  It  might,  how- 
ever, be  more  just  to  Anaximandor  to  notice  esj>ccially  the  analogy  of  his  funda- 
mental principle  to  that  of  Schelling— but  the  latter  is  a  strict  Idealist. 


334  The  Bacon  of  the  Nineteenth  Century.  [July, 

ordinary  experience  of  every  day  assured  tlicm.  Employing  mate- 
rial forms  as  their  archetypal  principles,*  they  sublimated  matter  in 
their  speculative  alembic  to  such  a  decree,  that  it  no  longer  possessed 
in  theory  the  characteristics  recognised  in  its  actual  condition.  The 
logical  procedure  adopted  -was  entirely  erroneous ;  for,  besides  the 
manifold  imperfections  and  deficiencies  manifested  in  its  application 
to  details,  the  principles,  at  Avhich  it  arrived  by  a  rash  induction, 
were  inadequate,  -when  developed  systematically,  to  explain  or  eluci- 
date the  ackno-wledged  phenomena  of  the  universe. 

Previous,  however,  to  the  later  periods  of  this  sect,  Pythagoras 
had  foimded  the  Itahc  School.  The  question  proposed  to  philoso- 
phy at  that  time  was,  to  account  for  the  uniformity  and  regularity 
of  phenomena,  and.  to  exhibit  the  causes  and  the  nature  of  that 
essential  permanence  which  subsisted  in  the  midst  of  all  temporal 
changes.  The  solution  of  this  problem  Pythagoras  fancied  himself 
able  to  detect  in  the  fixity  of  the  relations  of  numbers,  and  in  the 
infinite  modifications  which  they  admitted  without  derogation  from 
their  characteristic  identity  and  simphcity.  Hence,  with' him,  num- 
bers became  the  first  principles  of  all  things,  and  to  each  of  the  simple 
numbers  were  attached  a  mystical  signification  and  mysterious  virtues. 
Thus  the  semblance  of  explanation  was  substituted  for  the  reality; 
and  the  formal  condition  of  things,  not  altogother  arbitrary,  but  in 
great  measure  accidental,  took  the  place  of  a  comprehensive  inter- 
pretation of  the  various  interdependent  and  mutually  modifying 
facts.-  Reason  was  thus  supi»]anted  by  fanciful  and  often  fictitious 
analogies ;  and  casual  or  imaginary  similitudes,  which  were  never 
more  than  partial,  were  considered  as  the  equivalents  of  causation. 
Still,  by  the  introduction  of  mathematical  relation,  as  a  symbolical 
language  admitting  of  wide  application,  the  foundations  of  applied 
mathematics,  or  of  strict  science,  were  laid,  and  valuable  services 
rendered  by  preparing,  and  even  indicating  the  way  for  the  future 
progress  of  intellect.  Moreover,  the  employment  of  intellectual 
forms  (for?nce  rationales)  as  the  correlatives  of  actual  existence, 
directed  attention  to  the  peculiar  functions  of  the  mind  in  the  intel- 
lection and  explication  of  the  universe,  and  exhibited  in  a  strong 
light  the  faintly- suspected  truth  of  the  harmony  and  metaphysical 
interdependence  of  knowledge  and  existence.  But  the  error  again 
lay  in  the  logical  procedure.  In  the  case  of  Pythagoras,  there  was 
a  mystical  assumption  of  a  fragmentary  manifestation  of  the  laws  of 

"In  that  most  valuable  fragment  of  mctapliysical  listory,  and  most  admirable 
specimen  of  met:iphysical  criticism,  tlie  First  IJook.  of  the  iMetaphysics,  Aristotle 
Bays  that  all  the  Greek  philosophers  before  Anaxaguras  assigned  but  one  cause  of 
the  universe,  and  that,  matter.    Metaph.,  lib.  i,  c.  iii.,  of.  Schol.  Aristot.,  p.  ol5,b.  13. 


.  1853.3  The  Bacon  of  the  Nineteenth  Century.  335 

intellect  as  a  sufficient  explanation  of  their  whole  bearing  and  sig- 
nificancy;  and  this  assumption  was  ille;jitimately  employed  as  the 
creative  agency  of  the  uuivensc,  and  as  the  adequate  equivalent  of 
the  matter  and  essence  of  all  knowledge  and  being.  "\Ve  fear  that 
we  have  left  our  meaning  obscure  and  confused,  and  we  have  not 
much  hope  of  rendering  it  more  lucid.  "What  wc  designed  to  say 
was,  that  Pythagoras  mistook  the  partial  analogy  which  he  dis- 
covered between  the  relations  of  nuujbcr  and  figure  and  the  phe- 
nomena of  the  universe,  for  an  entire  exposition  of  the  laws  which 
governed  the  development  of  the  latter;  and  losing  sight  of  the 
accidental  and  incomplete  character  of  this  analogy,  considered  that 
the  order  of  nature  was  represented  in  its  reason,  if  not  in  its  genetic 
cause,  by  the  series  of  numerical  and  geometrical  properties,  thus 
establishing  a  system  of  mysticism  on  a  narrow  basis  of  mathematical 
laws.  Nor  let  any  one  be  surprised  at  our  attributing  mysticism  to 
the  mathematical  formalism  of  the  Py  thagurean  school.  The  examples 
of  Spinoza  and  Dos  Cartes,  and  more  recently  of  M.  "\Yronski,  prove 
that  there  is  a  curious  but  natural  alliiiity  bct\vecn  the  two. 

The  passage  from  these  defective  schemes  of  philosophy  is  exem- 
plified and  illustrated  by  the  history  of  tlie  Elcatic  school.  Borrow- 
ing the  experimental  conclusion  of  the  Ionic  sect,  ex  inhilo  nihil  Jit, 
and  inferring  tiierefrom  that  the  chain  of  causation  must  be  direct, 
intimate,  and  homogeneous  in  all  its  links,  Xenophanes  assumed 
God  as  the  principle,  essence,  and  substance  of  all  things — summinp- 
up  his  philosophy  in  the  celebrated  device,  tv  to  ov  kuI  ~dv,  aad 
thus  inaugurated  the  first  clearly  attested  form  of  Pantheism.  This 
system  was  more  strictly  and  symmetrically  developed  by  Par- 
menides,  who  gave  it  a  purely  idealistic  form,  identifying  knowledi-e 
and  existence — (the  problem  consciously  proposed  by  M.  Wrouski, 
and  the  result  inevitably  attained  by  t^chelling) — and  thus  making 
the  objective  and  subjective  universe — the  worlds  of  matter  and  of 
thought — the  two  forms  of  the  eliiux  of  Deity,  thereby  rendering  the 
attributes  of  the  Divinity  the  mere  hazy  rctloxes  of  the  human  mind. 
This  doctrine  was  pushed  still  farther  by  the  Samian,  Melissus,  who 
deemed  that  its  consistency  required  the  negation  of  time,  space, 
and  matter — and  thus  produced  as  Ids  }»hilosophic  interpretation  of 
the  universe,  the  unlimited,  unconditioned  mind,  subject  to  no  law, 
inherent  in  no  substance,  affected  by  no  change,  but  suspended  in 
vague  isolation  in  the  centre  of  a  creation  of  dreams.  In  this  way 
the  Eleatic  philosophy,  by  the  rejection  of  all  limits,  attained  its  own. 
The  conclusion,  to  which  it  had  been  necessarily  pushed,  was  so 
much  at  variance  Avith  all  the  lessons  of  the  senses,  and  with  every 
conviction  of  individual  consciousness,  that  its  absurdity  occasioned 


336  Tlie  Bacon  of  the  Nineteenth  Century.  [July, , 

a  violent  reaction.  In  this,  as  in  the  two  former  instances,  the  fun- 
damental defect  may  assuredly  be  traced  to  vicious  reasoning. 
The  foundation  of  the  whole  scheme  is  a  pure  assumption,  and  its 
principles  are  altogether  hypothetical.  Moreover,  it  involves,  through- 
out, the  latent  fallacy  that  the  range  of  intellectual  comprehension  is 
a  legitimate  canon  of  the  knvs  of  the  universe. 

The  extreme  and  impracticable  subtilty  of  this  Pantheistic  ideal- 
ism outraged  the  common-sense  of  the  Greeks.  An  able  defender, 
however,  arose  to  uphold  for  a  time  its  declining  pretensions.  Zeno 
endeavoured  to  support  the  Eleatic  doctrine,  not  by  demonstrating 
its  inherent  validity,  but  by  shoAving  that  empiricism  is  still  more 
absurd.  This  reductio  ad  absurdum,  however  illegitimate  and 
sophistical  as  a  proof  of  the  truth  of  the  system  attacked,  was  an 
important  advance  in  the  line  of  sound  philosophy,  as  it  constituted 
the  first  step  towards  the  construction  of  logical  science,  of  which, 
for  this  reason,  Zeno  was  justly  reputed  to  be  the  founder.  Further- 
more, Zeno's  procedure  placed  reason  and  experience  directly  and 
overtly  at  variance  with  each  other,  and  thus  prepared  the  way  for 
the  reign  of  the  Sophists,  who  borrowed  many  of  their  principles 
from  the  Eleatics,  and  might  almost  have  claimed  Zeno  as  one  of 
themselves.* 

Before  the  time  of  Gorgias,  who  is  ordinarily  recognised  as  the  first 
of  the  Sophists,  Anaxagoras  had,  however,  acknowledged  a  supreme 
intelligence  as  the  source  of  all  being  as  well  as  of  all  intellection; 
but  he  made  little  or  no  use  of  this  important  discovery,  confining 
himself  chiefly  to  the  development  of  his  system  of  Homoeomereia, 
which  was,  in  great  measure,  a  return  towards  the  Ionic  school,  as.was 
also  the  philosophy  of  Empcdocles  and  of  Diogenes  of  Apollonia, 
the  latter  of  whom,  hovrever,  imputed  an  intellectual  energy  to  nature. 

The  reign  of  intellect,  and,  whether  avowed  or  not,  of  the  merely 
human  intellect,  was  inaugurated  by  the  procedure  of  Zeno,  and  hailed 
as  the  only  refuge  from  the  conflicting  absurdities  of  the  Ionic,  Pvtha- 
gorean,  and  Eleatic  schools.  The  whole  universe  of  things  created, 
and  the  Creator  himself  too,  were  reduced  to  intellectual  operations 
and  abstractions,  or  became  the  mere  shuttlecocks  of  intellectual  dis- 
cussion. The  validity  of  truth  was  deprived  of  any  intrinsic  support, 
and  was  left  to  be  established  by  purely  logical  comparisons.     Em- 

°  The  sophistical  character  of  Zeno's  philosophy  was  recognised  by  the  ancients 
themselves,  who  called  him  u  uudorepoyhjrTO^,  because  he  vras  supposed  to  have 
thought  one  thing  and  said  another.  David.  Interp.  x,  Categ.  Schol.  Aristot, 
p.  22,  b.  27,  who  cites  Diogenes  La<^rtius  [ix,  25]  : — 

cfi6oTepoy7.(JTTOLo  fj-eya  adivog  ovk  a?.a~advbv 

Z^vwiof. 


1853.3  TheBaconof  the  Nineteenth  Century.  337 

piricism  had  failed,  but  it  had  started  insoluble  doubts.  Idealism 
had  resulted  in  absurd  and  visionary  transcendentalism,  and  in- 
troduced irremediable  discord  between  sense  and  reason.  The 
foundations  of  knowledge,  the  characteristics  of  truth,  were  unsettled, 
and  appeared  to  be  undiscoverable ;  and  the  whole  domain  of  philoso- 
phy, and,  consequently,  of  practice,  was  staked  upon  the  result  of 
plausible  argumentation.  If  vre  had  time  to  trace  the  parallelism, 
a  close  analogy  might  be  detected  between  the  intellectual  confusion 
of  that  age  and  the  anarchical  condition  of  our  own.  In  both 
instances  the  mental  disorganization  was  ■  attended  by  the  same 
results. 

Such  a  state  of  philosophy  as  we  have  described  necessarily  led 
to  the  dominion  of  sophistr}^  which,  repelled  by  the  absurdities  and 
inconsistencies  in  which  preceding  systems  had  ended,  dazzled  by 
tJie  preeminence  assigned  to  the  intellect,  attracted  by  the  temptations 
of  logical  display,  untrammelled  by  the  assumptions  of  any  preced- 
ing creeds,  and  encouraged  by  the  political  atmosphere  of  the  time, 
boldly  proclaimed  that  truth  ami  justice  were  more  appearances — the 
phantasies  of  the  mind — and  that  the  more  specious  argument  proved 
the  better  cause.  This  rendered  the  whole  domain  of  Greek  specu- 
lation one  vast  arena  for  shadowy  controversies,  in  which  nothing 
was  decided— for  profitless  logomachies,  which  never  contemplated 
the  attainment  of  truth— and  for  a  logical  ligerdemain,  which  seemed 
to  work  miracles  solely  because  it  delu(kd  the  bystanders,  and  ob- 
literated all  the  landmarks  which  could  direct  or  regulate  the  judg- 
ment. The  satu-e  of  Aristophanes  is  not  merely  a  burlesque.  There 
may  be  caricature  or  exaggeration  in  the  delineation  of  the  method 
of  the  Sophists  given  in  the  Clouds,  but  it  only  tends  to  exhibit  in 
a  clearer  light  and  in  higher  relief  the  radical  fallacies  of  their 
school,  and  is  confirmed  and  illustrated  by  the  example  as  v.-ell  as 
by  the  evidence  of  Plato  and  Isocrutos. 

The  popularity  and  success  of  tliese  brilliant  sceptics  attested  the 
entire  absence  of  settled  principles  of  reasoning  and  behef  in  the 
eminently  intellectual  commimities  by  ^^hich  Protagoras  and  his 
compeers  were  welcomed  and  admired.  L  ntil  the  publication  of 
Mr.  Grote's  luminous  history,  there  had  bi-on  no  adequate  apprecia- 
tion of  either  the  character  or  the  mission  of  the  Sophists,  who  were 
certainly  among  the  most  eminent  thinkers  of  Greece,  and  whose 
errors  and  pernicious  influences  were  the  necessary  result  of  their 
historical  position,  and  of  the  previous  condition  of  speculation. 
Their  task  was  the  work  of  destruction :  their  mission  was  honestly 
accepted  by  them,  and  earnestly  fulfilled;  they  recognised  and  ex- 
posed the  irreconcilable  inconsistencies  in  the  received  habits  of 


338  The  Bacon  of  the  Nineteenth  Century.  [July, 

thought — ■which  was  a  necessary  preliminary  to  any  valid  intellec- 
tual renovation.  Their  method  was  purely  negative :  their  principles 
were  limited  to  the  narrowest  empiricism  ;  for  it  was  their  olEce  to 
exhibit  the  absence  of  any  possible  harmony  between  preceding  doc- 
trines and  individual  consciousness.  Hence  the  loose  and  transitory 
experience  of  the  individual  was  made  the  canon  for  the  criticism 
of  all  speculative  truth  and  all  practical  right — as  has  too  often  been 
the  case  in  our  own  day,  for  we  too  are  living  in  the  age  of  the 
Sophists.  Such  a  type  of  philosophy — for  even  the  rebellion  against 
philosophy  inevitably  assumes  a  philosophical  form — manifested  the 
profoundly  diseased  state  of  the  society  in  the  midst  of  which  it 
took  root  and  flourished,  and  was,  of  course,  powerfully  instrumental 
in  extending  the  political  and  social  disorganization  which  it  had  in 
some  degree  produced,  and  which  in  its  turn  reacted  upon  the  phi- 
losophy, disseminating  its  lessons,  popularizing  its  positions,  and 
demoralizing  the  effects  of  what  in  the  first  instance  was  only  meta- 
physical or  logical  error.         ^ 

It  is  only  necessary  to  remember  that  the  age  of  the  Sophists  was 
coincident  with  tlie  first  years  of  the  Pcloponnesian  war,  and  consti- 
tuted an  important  part  of  the  melancholy  phenomena  of  political 
and  social  decay  which  were  displayed  at  Athens  and  throughout 
Greece  both  during  and  subsequent  to  that  war,  to  be  assured  of 
the  reciprocally  injurious  effects  of  the  concomitant  distemperature 
of  philosophy  and  society.  In  practice,  as  in  theory,  there  was  no 
faith  in  religion,  no  reverence  for  the  gods,  no  trust  in  men,  no  re- 
spect for  law  or  justice,  no  veneration  for  right,  either  between  indi- 
viduals or  communities,  no  shame  of  fiilsehood,  no  belief  in  truth,  no 
regard  for  morals ;  but  all  duties  as  all  rights  were  hlown  about  in 
the  courts  of  judicature  and  in  the  halls  of  legislation,  and  left  to 
the  chance  of  plausible  advocacy,  of  to  the  shifting  currents  of  pop- 
ular caprice.  The  intellect  was  the  only  instrument  of  persuasion, 
and  the  arbitrary  fantasies  of  individual  judgment  the  only  recog- 
nised tribunal  of  the  conscience.  At  the  same  time,  with  an  increased 
development  of  industry  and  commerce,  with  a  rapid  augmentation 
of  individual  fortunes,  i]\(i  respect  for  the  rights  of  property  wholly 
vanished,  and  the  insatiable  and  licentious  spirit  of  greed  rose  to 
such  a  height  as  to  deprave  the  whole  population,  and  to  render 
peculation,  plunder,  robbery,  perjury,  and  murder,  violent  and  judi- 
cial, familiar  steps  toward  the  attainment  of  wealth.  It  should,  per- 
haps, be  mentioned  here,  though  the  period  of  its  greatest  virulence 
was  somewhat  later,  that  the  intolerable  distress  and  misery  which 
resulted  from  this  deranged  state  of  society,  and  from  the  acrimoni- 
ous hostility  between  the  greedy  and  unscrupulous  rich  and  the  no 


1853.]  The  Bacon  of  the  Nineteenth  Ceiitury.  339 

less  gi-eedy  and  unscrupulous  poor,*  produced  a  reaction  against  the 
existing  political  and  social  organization,  Avhich  had  lapsed  into  such 
a  ruinous  condition,  and  dictated  constant  and  capricious  changes 
of  the  government;  ^vhich  were  all  equally  impotent  to  produce 
good  or  avert  evil.  Thus  the  logical  fallacies  which  were  involved 
in  the  conflicting  systems  of  abstruse  philosophy  had  worked  theh' 
way  down  through  the  intermediate  ?})lunes  of  hunaan  thought  to  all 
the  departments  of  social  and  private  action. 

This  is  no  fauc}'  sketch :  every  incident  in  the  gloomy  picture  is 
abundantly  attested  by  the  pages  of  the  Greek  historians  and  the  re- 
peated declarations  of  the  Athenian  orators.  Yet,  though  so  accu- 
rate a  delineation  of  the  age  of  the  ancient  Sophists,  Ave  might  sup- 
pose that  we  were  reading  a  description  of  the  calamities  of  our  oa^ti 
times : — 

Viscera  niortua  quin  ctiam 
Post  obitura  reparaiv  datux, 
Eque  suis  iteruiu  tiiniiilis 
Prisca  rcnus-citur  cfTijrics, 
Pulvereo  cocunte  situ. I 

Let  US  add,  to  render  the  parallel  moi-o  .striking,  that  it  was  at  the 
commencement  of  the  age  of  the  Sophists  that  Hippo,  the  prototype 
of  Comte,  propounded  that  doctrine  of  phenomenalism  and  infidelity 
which  was  ridiculed  by  Cratinus,i  and  conjured  with  such  withering 
scorn  by  Aristotle. § 

The  evils  which  we  have  been  describing  were  at  their  height 
when  Socrates  appcai-cd.  At  first,  assimilating  his  general  proced- 
ure to  the  method  of  the  Sophist.-?,  (which  he  and  his  disciples,  Plato 
and  Xenophon,  alwaj-s  to  a  groat  extent  retained,)  he  endeavoured,  by 
skilfully  directed  inquiries,  to  show  the  utter  irreconcilability  of  the 
principles  of  the  Sophists  with  tho.<e  smothered  but  indestructible 
convictions  of  men  which  were  only  dt-niod  because  ignored.     His 

-  The  fullest  proof  of  this  autagonism  is  furnislicil  by  the  treatise  attributed 
to  Xenoplion:  De  Atheniensium  ]lcpublio;i.  If  this  is  not  the  genuine  produc- 
tion of  Xenopbon,  we  should  conjecture  in  spuiiousness  from  circumstances 
exactly  opposite  to  the  evidence  ordinarily  adduced  for  that  purpose.  It  mani- 
fests finer  powers  of  observation,  a  just^r  appreciation  of  social  phenomena  and 
their  relations,  and  a  stronger  flight  of  reason,  with  less  superstition  and  puer- 
ility, than  are  usually  found  in  the  un<loubtod  productions  of  Xeuophon. 

t  Prudentii  Catheraerinon,  Hymn  iii,  v.  l'."l-.3. 

I  In  the  Yldvo-xrau  The  fragments  are  i-roserved  apud  Jlcinckc,  Com.  GrKC, 
vol.  ii,  ps.  i,  pp.  102-T. 

§  Metaph.,  lib.  i,  c,  iii,  p.  933.  V.  Asclep.  ct  Cod.  Reg.  Schol.,  p.  534,  a.  22-6. 
Ai-istotle  said,  'l7:-uva  ovk  av  ric  d^ioceu  IhivuL  fUTa  toCtuv  (the  Ionic  school) 
(5iu  T/jV  £vT£?.eiav  avrov  r//f  dcavoiac. 


340  The  Bacon  of  the  Nineteenth  Century.  [July, 

effort  was  to  revive  and  reestablish  tliose  fundamental  principles  of 
belief  vrhich  had  been  almost  entirely  obliterated :  to  renovate  that 
vital  and  instinctive  faith — that  spontaneous  sentiment,  the  principle 
not  the  result  of  thought — ^vhich  had  been  crushed  and  paralyzed 
beneath  the  weight  of  verbose  disputations.  His  aim  was  to  make 
every  one  discover  for  himself,  by  introspection,  the  constant  exist- 
ence of  a  faith,  a  certainty,  whose  very  existence  was  a  valid  and 
complete  refutation  of  the  Avhole  ingenious  web  of  sophistry.  Hence 
flowed  the  singular  propriety  of  the  favourite  analogy  which  Socrates 
instituted  between  his  own  philosophical  vocation  and  his  mother's 
obstetrical  art.  He  had  no  symmetrical  theory  of  his  own' to  pro- 
pound; all  systems  apparently  had  been  tried,  and  the  results  in 
which  they  had  eventuated  were  what  he  was  contending  against. 
Thus,  both  the  object  and  the  nature  of  his  inquiries  dictated  the 
adoption  of  that  eroteraatic  procedure  by  Sorites,  which  has  since 
been  termed  Socratic,  and  was  afterward  so  splendidly  illustrated 
in  the  brilliant  dialogues  of  Plato.*  In  the  application  of  his  Dia- 
lectic method,  as  his  endeavuur  was  the  elimination  of  error,  so  as 
to  permit  the  spontaneous  revelation  of  latent  truth,  he  was  neces- 
sarily led  to  reflect  profoundly  upon  the  processes  of  reasoning,  and 
the  nature  and  validity  of  their  conclusions,  and  was  thus  conducted 
to  many  important  logical  discoveries,  and  among  others  to  that  of 
formal  induction.t  Thus  the  method  of  the  reform  which  was  in- 
augurated by  Socrates  was  a  logical  one ;  and  necessary  it  was  that 
it  should  be  so,  if  it  was  to  constitute  any  genuine  advancement  of 
the  human  intellect,  for  false  reasoning  was  the  ultimate  germ  of 
those  evils  which  had  stimulated  his  efforts.  But,  at  the  "same  time 
that  such  was  the  philosophical  significance  of  his  career,  his  imme- 
diate action  was  prei'minently  practical.  The  political  and  moral 
disorders  of  the  times,  with  their  grievous  social  consequences,  it 
was  his  design  to  redress  and  reform :  by  the  reestablishment  of 
public  and  private  virtue ;  by  the  revival  of  moral  principle  and  re- 
ligious ftiith;  by  the  renewed  recognition  of  the  immutability  of 
right  and  wrong,  and  the  divine  origin  of  justice ;  and  by  the  resto- 
ration of  a  spirit  of  obedience  to  all  constituted  authority,  human 
and  divine.  The  last  feature  of  his  philoso])hy  receives  new  prom- 
inence from  the  circumstances  of  his  death,  at  the  same  time  that 
it  illustrates  and  justifies  his  refusal  to  acce])t  the  chances  of  escape 
which  were  offered  to  him,  or  to  avert  in  any  manner  his  impending 

•^  This  exhibition  of  the  peculiar  spirit  of  the  Socratic  philosophy,  and  of  the 
relation  of  the  Socratic  procedure  to  that  spirit,  is  striliiugly  confirmed  by  the 
ThcDetetus  of  Plato,  especially  by  chapters  vi,  vii. 

t  Aristot.  Mctaph.,  lib.  xii,  c.  iv,  p.  1078.     Ed.  Bekker  &  Brandis. 


1853.]  The  Bacon  of  the  Nineteenth  Century.  341 

fate.  The  character  of  the  Socratic  reform  also  induced  its  founder 
to  devote  himself  with  such  sedulous  care  to  the  rising  generation 
at  Athens,  and  to  the  education  of  the  young ;  for,  as  the  reform 
proposed  was  of  a  moral  complexion,  it  was  essential  that  its  seeds 
should  be  planted  in  the  minds  of  those  who  had  not  yet  been  hard- 
ened, corrupted,  and  warped  by  the  pernicious  tendencies  and  asso- 
ciations of  the  times.  We  conclude,  then,  that  the  ends  contem- 
plated by  the  practical,  as  well  as  by  the  theoretical  portions  of  the 
philosophy  of  Socrates,  were  sought  by  the  same  method,  which  was 
not  designed  to  implant  any  special  system  of  novel  doctrines,  but 
to  develop  in  the  consciousness  of  his  pupils  and  hearers  the  exist- 
ence and  the  permanent  obligation  of  those  convictions,  inexplicable 
because  instinctive,*  which  had  been  darkened  by  the  clouds  of  con- 
flicting metaphysical  systems,  and  blown  aside  by  the  breath  of 
sophistry  and  the  currents  of  windy  rhetorical  plausibilities. 

The  procedure  of  Socrates  was  thus  entirely  negative,  though  the 
result  sought  and  obtained  was  eminently  jiositive.  In  this  respect 
he  may  be  compared  with  Kant.  But  the  latter  definitely  con- 
structed a  system  of  negations,  while  the  former  only  employed  the 
Socratic  irony  and  the  reductio  ud  ahsurdum  to  withdraw  the  arti- 
ficial pressure  which  palsied  the  play  of  the  common-sense  convic- 
tions of  the  human  mind,  leaving  these  to  rise  to  their  due  influence 
and  level  by  their  own  spontaneous  energy,  a.s  soon  as  the  weifilit 
which  held  them  down  was  removed.  IJut  the  negative  character 
of  the  procedure  both  of  Socrates  and  Kant  allowed  perfect  freedom 
of  systematization  to  those  who  followed  and  adopted  their  philoso- 
phy;  and,  as  from  the  school  of  Kant  have  proceeded  Fichte,  Hcfel, 
Jacobi,  Schelling,  Oken,  Hcinholil,  Strauss,  and  in  some  respects 
we  might  add  M.  Comte  also,  so  from  the  Socratic  school  arose  all 
the  great  schemes  of  philosophy  which  rendered  illustrious  the  later 
periods  of  Greece. 

Among  the  most  eminent  of  these,  as  the  earliest,  was  Platonism, 
which  endeavoured  to  develop  the  doctrines  of  Socrates  into  a  spe- 
cies of  doubting  idealism,  mingling  with  its  shadowy  transcenden- 
talism a  strong  dash  of  the  sceptical  sj)irit  which  had  presided  over 
the  philosophy  of  Socrates.  ^Ve  have  no  design  to  analyze  the  doc- 
trines or  the  career  of  Plato;  but  we  mention  him  here  for  iho  sake 
of  calling  attention  to  the  evidence  which  he  furnishes  of  the  reac- 
tion against  the  profound  and  melancholy  social  "disorganization  of 

*^TLis  aim  of  Socrates  may  account  f-.r  that  iloctr'mo,  reported  by  Plato,  that 
all  kno-vrlcdge  is  but  memory  refreshed  —  a  resuscitated  reminiscence  —  and  for 
the  Platonic  proof  of  the  immortality  of  the  soul  by  its  vaguely  imagined  pre- 
existence. 


342  The  Bacon  of  the  Nineteenth  Century.  TJuly, 

the  times.  It  is  in  his  -writings,  in  his  Laws  and  his  Republic,  that 
T7e  have  tlie  clearest  indications,  indirect  though  they  be,  of  the 
growing  recognition  of  this  almost  hopeless  distemperature;  and  it 
is  there  too  that  we  discern  the  first  manifestation  of  that  scheme 
of  Socialism  to  which  the  recurrence  of  similar  contingencies  has 
given  such  prominence  and  increasing  popularity  in  our  day.  The 
reveries  of  Plato's  political  projects  have  been  hitherto  the  stum- 
bling-block of  all  classical  scliolars  and  all  historians  of  philosophy, 
because  they  have  been  regarded  solely  in  their  connexion  with  the 
literary  or  philosophical  development  of  the  Greek  mind.  But  the 
only  mode  in  which  those  singular  aberrations — so  much  at  variance 
with  the  genuine  spirit  of  the  Socratic  school,  and  so  inconsistent 
with  the  strength,  we  cannot  say  with  the  sobriety,  of  Plato's  genius 
— can  become  intelligible,  is  by  regarding  them  as  an  earnest  prot- 
estation against  the  immoralities,  the  miseries,  and  the  social  dis- 
integi-ation  of  the  times,  and  as  the  first  wild  tentative  toward  the 
removal  or  alleviation  of  those  evils.  It  Avas  i\\Q  occurrence  of  a 
crisis  strangely  analogous  to  that  which  may  now  be  witnessed,  and 
which  has  already  seduced  so  many  of  the  most  profound  minds  of 
Christendom  into  the  adoption  and  laborious  dissemination  of  tlie 
various  forms  of  Socialism  ;  it  was  the  existence  of  such  a  crisis 
which  prompted  the  fantastic  ])rovisions  of  Plato's  Utopia.  But  he 
was  by  no  means  alone  among  the  ancients  in  his  advocacy  of  com- 
munistic reveries.  The  Politics  of  Aristotle  indicate  the  contempo- 
raneous promulgation  of  many  other  schemes  of  political  and  social 
renovation  of  the  same  general  complexion;  and,  possibly,  if  the 
chimerical  politics  of  ancient  theorists  had  been  diligently  preserved, 
we  might  have  discovered  the  i)rototype  of  Fourier  in  Hippodamus 
of  JMiletus,*  and  the  precursor  of  Prouclhon  in  Phaleas  of  Chalcedon.f 
But,  in  all  that  constitutes  the  essence  of  the  great  intellectual 
instauration  of  the  ancient  worhl,  with  the  exception  of  the  funda- 
mental idea  of  its  procedure — viz.,  the  diligent  examination  of  the 
premises  of  the  reason,  and  the  recognition  of  the  ultimate  fiicts  of 
consciousness  as  the  postulates  of  all  valid  speculation  or  prac- 
tice—Aristotle must  bo  regarded  as  the  great  reformer,  the  Bacon 
of  Greek  antir^uity.  With  the  immense  erudition,  the  all-embracing 
speculation,  the  universal  comprehension,  the  minute  accuracy,  and 
the  myriad-minded  versatility,  which  have  so  deservedly  acquired 
for  Aristotle  the  epithet  of  ''maestro  di  chc  chi  smmo,''  we  have 
no  further  concern  at  present  than  to  mention  them  as  evidence  of 
the  completeness  and  universality  of  the  Aristotelian  reform.     The 

=>  Aristot.  Pol.,  lib.  ii,  c.  vii,  p.  12CG.       f-^ristot.  Pol.,  lib.  ii,  c.  viii,  p.  12C8. 


1853.]  The  Bacon  of  the  Nineteenth  Century.  343 

characteristics  of  Aristotle's  iutellect  and  pliilosophy,  -which  merit 
special  notice  at  present,  are  the  expansion  of  all  known  and  the 
anticipation  of  nearly  all  conceivable  science ;  the  definite  construc- 
tion of  logic  by  the  determination  of  its  laws  and  the  range  of  their 
application ;  the  criticism  of  all  former  science  and  philosophy  by 
the  logical  examination  of  their  principles  and  defects;  the  estab- 
lishment of  induction,  and  its  om))lo}inent  in  physical  researches, 
though  not  yet  sufliciently  defined;  the  analysis  of  the  terms  and 
methods  of  metaphysical  speculation,  not  as  in  itself  the  founda- 
tion of  any  new  metaphysical  system,  but  as  a  refutation  of  the 
fallacies  of  all  former  schemes;  the  reconstruction  of  ethical  science 
on  a  logical  basis,  and  its  symmetrical  adaptation  to  the  other 
branches  of  human  knowledge ;  the  preparation  for  a  redress  of  so- 
cial and  political  evils,  not  by  any  imaginary  and  cliimerical  theory, 
hastily  projected  and  inconsiderately  urged,  but  by  the  diligent  col- 
lection and  comparison  of  previous  and  contemporary  constitutions, 
by  legitimate  inference  from  the  whole  mass  of  such  evidence,  and  by 
the  cautious  determination  of  tlic  conditions  of  healthy  political  action, 
and  the  causes  of  political  decay /'=  Jn  his  philosophy,  Aristotle  re- 
jected neither  the  experimental,  or,  rather,  empirical  tendencies  of 
the  Ionic  school,  nor  the  rational  development  of  the  Eleatic.  He 
•was  equally  removed  from  pure  sensationalism  and  pure  idealism, 
and  -while  establisliing  the  laws  and  legitimate  employment  of  'Co.e 
reason,  he  restricted  observation  to  a  deiiuite  range — thus  effectiu'T  a 
reform  in  metaphysics  and  creating  tlie  science  of  logic.  Ey  tiiis 
sober  and  comprehensive  procedure  he  again  rendered  possible  the 
harmonious  interdependence  of  reason  and  experience,  and  by  his 
constantly  avowed  recognition  of  indemonstrable  principles  offered 
the  means  of  ending  the  discord  between  the  speculative  reason  and 
that  faith  which  springs  from  instinctive  conviction.  Thus,  universal 
as  vras  the  scientific  development  of  Aristotle's  mind,  his  labours  in 
behalf  of  logic  -were  the  most  important  part  of  the  -whole,  and  it 
■was  by  them  that  the  rest  was  rendered  possible  and  was  deter- 
mined; while,  at  the  same  time,  they  gave  its  due  position  and  a 
permanent  form  to  that  imperfectly  ap])rehended  truth  Avhich  had 
inspired  the  life  of  Socrates,  and  ju.^tified  by  sanctifying  his  death. 
The  double  relation  of  Aristotle  to  the  history  of  Greek  philosophy, 
and  to  the  actual  disorganization  of  Greek  society  in  his  o^\-n  age, 
must  not  be  overlooked  nor  misapprohcmled,  if  avc  would  understand 
either  the  significance  of  the  vast  body  of  his  avm.  doctrine,  or  the 

"^  Cicero,  De  Fin.  Bon.  et  MaL.  lib.  iv,  c.  iii,  §  .5,  paj-s  a  merited  tribute  to  the 
investigations  of  Aristotle  and  the  Peripatetics  in  political  philosophy  and  polit- 
ical practice. 


344  The  Bacon  of  the  Nineteenth  Century.  [July, 

causes  of  that  unrivalled  eminence  which  was  afterward  conceded  to 
him,  and  which  the  coming  age  will  again  cordially  acknowledge. 

The  distinct  recognition  of  the  logical  form  of  Aristotle's  method, 
and  of  the  importance  of  such  a  form,  must  not  induce  us  to  over- 
look the  strictly  moral  ain]3  to  which  the  theory  always  tended  in 
its  practical  applications,  nor  to  forget  the  deeply  religious  spirit 
with  which  all  his  writings  arc  imbued ;  for  these  peculiarities  are 
not  less  significant  of  the  cliaractcr  of  the  meditated  reform,  than 
the  mode  by  which  its  attainment  was  proposed.  Aristotle  himself 
boasts  of  Imnng  been  the  first  to  speculate  distinctly  on  final  causes  ;* 
and  the  theological  complexion  of  his  f>hilosophy  is  justly  intimated 
in  a  very  pointed  and  epigrammatic  criticism  of  one  of  the  old 
Scholiasts.f  The  most  cursory  examination  of  the  separate  treatises 
of  Aristotle  will  show  how  his  logical  elaboration  was  preparatory  to 
the  scientific  and  metaphysical,  and  served  to  establish  that  ethical 
system,  which  has  only  been  surpassed  by  revelation,  while  the  political 
philosophy  was  the  result  of  the  previous  reform  of  the  reasoning  habits 
and  the  moral  practices  of  men.  It  was  his  aim,  indeed,  to  renovate 
all  human  action,  by  rekindling  the  veneration  for  the  gods,  by  re- 
forming the  moral  sentiments  and  actions,  by  correcting  political 
aberrations,  b}''  extending  the  circle  of  knowledge  and  purging  it  of 
error,  and  by  analyzing  and  determining  the  legitimate  conditions 
of  thought.  Such  was  the  design — but  the  stages  of  its  accomplish- 
ment necessarily  succeeded  toeh  other  in  the  inverse  order,  com- 
mencing with  logic,  and  terminating  in  political  reform. 

The  entire  decline  of  Greek  independence,  which  attended  the 
promulgation  of  Aristotle's  pliilosophy,  and  the  lamentable  history 
of  the  Greek  intellect  in  the  later  periods,  under  Roman  tyranny 
and  Byzantine  domination,  denied  to  the  Aristotelian  instauration 
the  immediate  and  full  manifestation  of  the  beneficial  effects  which 
it  nvight  otherwise  have  been  calculated  to  produce.  Antiquity 
offered  no  field  for  its  practical  application,  and  it-was  always  strictly 
limited  to  the  domain  of  speculation.  But  it  is  worthy  of  remark, 
that  all  the  science  of  Greece,  which  still  receives  the  respect  or 
wins  the  admiration  of  the  world,  was  elaborated  after  the  times  of 
Aristotle;  and  that  even  the  ethical  philosophy  of  the  Stoics | 
(which  was  the  only  portion  of  Greek  p)hilosophy  that  exercised  a 
vital  influence  on  Roman  development,  by  the  aid  which  it  afforded 

^  Ari-stot.,  Metapli.  i.vii,  p.  9S8,  a,b.  V.  Alex.  Apbrod.  and  Alex.  Schol.,  p.  oo4,  a,  b. 

t  lariov  6e  5ti  ael  dzo^.oyuv  6  'Apiffrorf/'.^f  <j>vaii>?Myel  .  .  .  uarrfp  uvd-a?.iv 
6  n?.urcjv  an  ^vaioloyCov  ■&co}.oyEl,  T^avTaxov  Trap€-/KVK?,C)V  rb  6dyfia  tuv  16euv. 
David.,  Schol.  Aristot:,  p.  26. 

X  Cic,  do  Fin.  Bon.  et  Mai.,  lib.  iv,  c.  ii,  §  3,  &c. ;  lib.  v,  c.  viii,  §  22  ;  c.  xxv,  §  74. 


1853.3  The  Bacon  of  the  Nineteenth  Century.  345 

to  the  scientific  edification  of  Roman  jurisprudence,)  must  be  traced 
to  tlie  influence  of  the  treatises  of  Aristotle  on  this  subject  and  on 
Logic.  The  true  reign  of  Aristotle  Avas,  however,  postponed  to  a 
much  later  period ;  for,  although  his  philosophy  Avas  diligently  studied. 
in  the  Museum  of  Alexandria,  it  Avas  debased  by  the  eclecticism 
of  the  Kew-Platonists,  whose  syncretism  destroyed  nearly  all  that 
•was  characteristic  in  the  Stagirite, — and,  although  it  was  carefully 
translated  and  commented  on  by  the  Sanicens,  yet  by  them  it  was 
esteemed  chiefly  for  its  physical  speculations  and  observations, 
fortunately,  on  the  verge  of  ancient  civilization,  when  all  the  knowl- 
edge of  the  ancient  world  was  approaching  its  extinction,  the  parting 
rays  of  the  setting  sun  shot  a  farewell  gleam  over  the  darkening 
horizon,  and  the  very  last  labours  of  the  Koman,  or  quasi-Roman 
intellect  v>'ere  devoted  to  the  perpetuation,  under  an  abridged  and 
mutilated  form,  of  the  logical  system  of  Aristotle.  Perhaps  the 
endless  disputations  and  polemical  controversies  of  the  Greek 
theologians  had  led  to  a  renewed  study  and  estimation  of  the  logical 
treatises  of  Aristotle;  but,  hov/ever  that  may  be,  the  compendia 
of  Boethius  and  Cassiodorus  mark  the  extreme  limit  of  Roman  learn- 
ing, and  furnished  the  instruments  for  the  renewal  of  philosophical 
'  pursuits  in  the  middle  ages.  Thus,  the  logic  of  Aristotle,  which  was 
the  mature  fruit,  and  most  perfect  as  well  as  the  loftiest  production 
of  the  Greek  intellect,  witnessed  the  dissolution  of  the  Roman 
mind,  and,  more  than  fourteen  centuries  iiftcr  its  first  appearance, 
kindled  again  the  torch  of  intellectual  progress.  What  other  author 
does  such  a  destiny  await  ?  By  this  means  we  are  broitght  to  the 
era  of  Abelard,  which  we  have  noted  as  tlie  second  period  requiring 
consideration  for  the  settlement  of  the  great  question  proposed. 

Although  Ave  have  resolved  to  include  the  career  of  Abelard  within 
the  circle  of  our  present  inquiries,  it  must  not  bo  supposed  that  we 
attribute  to  his  action  a  renovation  cither  of  the  same  exact  kind, 
or  of  anything  like  the  same  order  with  that  which  was  proposed 
by  Aristotle^  or  the  one  effected  by  J>aeoii.  Abelard  was.  in  some 
degree,  an  opponent  of  Aristotclism,  in  great  part  its  reviver,  and 
only  in  a  slight  measure  original;  but  his  principal  merit  consists 
in  the  vigorous  freedom  of  investigation  which  he  displayed,  and 
in  the  assignment  of  a  larger  intcrprctatiuii  and  a  juster  jirominence 
to  the  Peripatetic  doctrines  than  had  been  previously  afforded  by  the 
loose  and  fragmentary  views  of  that  philo.^oj^hy,  derived  from  partial 
and  incorrect  translations  from  the  Ara!)ic,  and  from  the  misappre- 
hended expressions  of  Boethius  and  Ca'^siodoras.  The  particular 
points  which,  in  his  case,  especially  merit  our  attention,  are  his 
relation  to  the  antecedent  and  subsequent  ])hilosophy  of  the  middle 

FoDRxn  Series.  Yol.  \.—'2.-1 


346  The  Bacon  of  the  Ninetee7ith  Century.  [July, 

ages,  and  the  nature  of  the  reform  inaugurated  by  his  brilliant 
though  melancholy  career. 

It  is  undoubtedly  incorrect  to  consider  Abelard  as  either  the 
founder  of  Scholasticism,  or  as  the  first  to  introduce  the  Aristotelian 
philosophy  into  the  mcdicxnal  schools.  It  is  equally  erroneous,  too, 
to  consider  him  as  either  preeminently  original,  or  as  entirely  devoid 
of  originality.  The  first  of  these  errors  is  abundantly  refuted  by 
previous  instances  of  the  scholastic  method,  "wliich,  even  in  the  absence 
of  all  other  evidence,  might  have  been  suspected  of  Greek  derivation 
from  its  similarity  to  the  procedure  familiar  to  the  Greek  Doctors  in 
the  disputations  of  the  ecclesiastical  councils.  But  ■we  have  other 
testimony.  Stephen,  of  Alexandria,  who  ^Yrote  a  treatise  on  Alchemy  * 
in  the  reign  of  the  Emperor  llerachus,  in  the  seventh  century,  either 
assumed,  or  was  honoured,  with  the  title  of  Doctor  Universalis, 
in  strict  accordance  with  the  genius  of  Scholasticism.  About  a 
hundi-ed  years  later,  St.  John,  of  Damascus,!  first  attempted,  with 
the  approbation  of  the  Church,  that  union  of  the  Peripatetic 
philosophy  with  Christian  theology  which  drew  down  upon  the  head 
of  Abelard  the  thunders  of  St.  Bernard  and  the  censures  of  the 
Councils  of  Soissons  and  Seas.  Moreover,  the  writings  of  Bede 
had  long  rendered  the  \Vc3t  familiar  with  the  name  and  the  general 
doctrine  of  Aristotle ;  and  regular  lectures  upon  some  parts  of  his 
philosophy  had  been  read  in  the  schools  of  York  even  in  the  times 
of  Alcuin,  by  whom  they  had  been  attended. 

The  close  relation  which  Abelard  bore  to  Roscellinus,  and,  in 
some  respects,  indeed,  to  his  owa  master,  William  of  Champeaux, 
disproves  the  possibility  of  any  remarkable  originality  in  his  philo- 
sophical views.  But,  if  his  philosophy  was  only  a  modification  or 
combination  of  existing  theories,  (though  it  was  more  than  this,) 
the  spirit  in  which  he  thought,  lectured,  and  wrote,  was  eminently 
original,  and  gave  a  renewed  impulse  to  the  onward  movement  of 

'='  Morhofu  Polyhistor.,  lib.  i,  c.  xi,  §  21,  torn,  i,  p.  101.  Wo  cite  the  title  of 
his  work  from  Smith's  Diet.  Gr.  and  Kom.  Biogr.  and  Myth.,  to  show  the  further 
analogy  between  Byzantine  and  meditcval  philosophy.  "'Lre'^uvov  'k}.E^av6piuq. 
olicovfi^viKov  di/.oaodov  kol  6i6a(jKu?.ov  T^f  f^sy<J'^-^C  «Gi  lepdc  rtxvrjr'TTepl  ^ptao 
■Kodaq  -pu^ic  ovv  ^eC>  TTp6-r}."  Another  illustration  is  furnished  at  a  later  period 
by  the  title  of  a  work  of  the  celebrated  Michael  Con^tantinus  Poellus,  AiSacKa'/.ia 
■KavTofa-ij,  sive  de  omnifaria  doctritia,  capita  el  qicastiones  ct  rcsponsioncs  cxciii. 

f  "The  eighth  century,  the  sceculum  iconodasticum  of  Cave,  low  as  it  was  in 
all  polite  literature,  produced  one  man,  John  Damascenus,  who  has  been  deemed 
the  founder  of  scholastic  philosophy,  and  who,  at  leait,  set  the  example  of  that 
style  of  reasoning  in  the  East."  irallam,  Mid.  Ages,  vol.  ii,  p.  52j,  Eng.  Ed. 
The  weak  authority  of  Ilallam  is  confirmed  by  Brucker,  Hist.  Crii.  Phil,  torn,  iii, 
pp.  oo5,  723;  and  Montreuil,  Hist.  Droit  Byzantin.,  vol.  i,  p.  -116. 


1853.]  The  Bacon  of  the  Nineteenth  Century.  347 

humanity.  Bold  in  speculation,  and  dazzling  in  expression ;  equally 
dexterous  in  the  employment  of  the  ofleusivc  \^-eapons  and  the 
defensive  armour  of  logic ;  fearless  of  consequences,  and  yearning 
for  the  discovery  of  truth ;  reverent  to  the  Church  and  its  unques- 
tioned traditions,  though  rejecting  the  trammels  by  Mhich  the  free 
play  of  the  intellect  Tvas  restrained— he  cleared  away  the  obstructions 
which  choked  up  the  path  of  liberal  in-iuiry,  and  indicated  the  course 
which  has  been  so  brilliantly  and  pcrscveringly  pursued  by  the 
succeeding  generations.  The  romantic  incidents  of  Abelard's  life, 
his  checkered  fortunes,  and  his  submissive  end,  may  concentrate 
our  regards  on  his  individual  career,  and  withdraw  attention  from 
the  originality  which  he  did  really  possess;  yet  the  sudden  and 
great  development  of  Western  intellect  which  immediately  followed 
his  appearance,  illustrates  both  the  intellectual  activity  of  the  times, 
and  also  the  profoundly  efficacious  influence  of  his  example  and 
teaching.  The  eminent  names,  wliich  are  scattered  like  stars  of 
the  first  magnitude  over  the  three  centuries  which  intervened  between 
Abelard's  death  and  the  invention  of  printing,  and  the  entire  change 
in  the  modes  and  tendencies  of  specuhitivo  research  which  then 
took  place,  evince  the  powerful  im|>u]sion  which  must  have  been 
given  to  the  human  mind,  either  by  Abelard  himself,  or  by  the  a'^e 
of  which  he  was  the  most  potent  tenelier  and  the  most  splendid 
ornament. 

The  speedy  decline  of  all  forms  of  s.'cnlar  learning,  the  distractions 
and  dissensions  which  preceded  and  attended  tlie  establishment  of 
the  feudal  system,  the  constant  invasions  of  barbarous  nations,  and 
the  foreign  Avars  undertaken  for  their  repulsion,  had  thrown  all 
learning  into  the  hands  of  the  monks.  The  isolation  of  their  lives, 
and  their  segregation  from  the  duties  of  practical  life,  combined 
with  the  dominance  of  a  blind  religious  zeal,  which  was  the  result  of 
the  -hopeless  and  incessant  controversies  of  both  the  Eastern  and 
Western  Churches,  had  given  to  their  theolog}'  an  equally  arro'-^ant 
and  naiTow  type,  and  had  rendered  the  little  literature  that  "still 
survived  a  mere"  pliant  instrument  to  subserve  the  purposes  of 
a  contracted  and  arbitrary  dogmatism.  The  strong  infusion  of 
Platonism,  and  especially  of  IS^ew-Platnnism,  in  the  treatises  of  the 
Eastern  or  Greek  fiithers,  had  necessarily  produced  a  realistic 
tendency  in  the  feeble  philosojjhy  of  the  times  intervening  between 
Bede  and  the  revival  of  speculative  activity.  The  mystical  ap- 
petencies of  the  theological  phiIo.so|iliy  of  that  remote  day  are  fully 
revealed  by  iha  writings  of  the  celebrated  John  Erigena*— the 

°  Caranuiu,  Hist.  Jes  Revolutions  dc  la  T'l.iloiophic,  fic.    L  Epoquc,  c.  v,  vol.  i, 
p.  290.     Brucker.  Hist.  Phil.,  torn,  iii,  p.  022. 


348  The  Bacon  of  the  Nineteenth  Century.  [July, 

morning-star  of  medieval  speculation.  The  lifeless  orthodoxy  of 
the  age  thus  became  strongly,  because  blindly,  attached  to  idealistic 
realism ;  and  the  play  of  the  human  mind  Ts-as  not  more  impeded  by 
the  excessive  and  unreasoning  dogmatism  of  the  Church  than  by 
the  narrow  and  fallacious  philosophy  Mith  -which  it  was  habitually 
united.  The  few  philosophers,  moreover,  who  had  attempted  to 
extend  the  limited  circle  of  ordinary  inquiry,  had  displayed  the 
tendency  of  all  realism  to  lose  itself  in  Pantheistic  conclusions  ;* 
and  the  violent  reaction,  both  against  this  result  and  against  the 
exclusiveness  of  ecclesiastical  domination,  had  manifested,  by  the 
example  of  Roscellinus,  the  risk  of  pusliing  Nominalism  to  that 
extreme  limit  where  all  discussion  is  reduced  to  the  mere  shadowy 
state  of  nominal  diOercnce. 

It,  was  in  this  conjuncture  that  the  fame  of  Abelard  illuminated 
the  darkness  of  the  middle  ages.  He  resisted  the  arbitrary  mode 
of  interpretation  employed  by  the  received  theology,  claiming  for 
the  human  reason  some  share  in  the  determination  of  what  was  to  be 
recognised  as  truth.  lie  not  only  asserted  its  right  to  judge  for 
itself  in  matters  proHinc,  but  demanded  also  that  the  doctrines  of 
theology  should  be  interpreted  in  accordance  with  reason ;  and  that, 
while  their  validity  might  still  be  acknowledged  to  rest  upon  the 
authority  of  revelation,  their  significance  should  be  di^rorered  by  a 
free  exercise  of  the  intellect,  acting  in  due  subordination  to  the  ex- 
press language  of  the  Scriptures,  and  to  the  consentaneous  teachings 
of  the  fathers  of  the  Cath'ilic  Church.  His  was  a  rebellion  against 
the  excess  and  consequent  irrationality  of  the  prevalent  ecclesiastical 
jurisdiction,  and  an  assertion  of  the  dignity,  coincident,  though  not 
coequal,  of  human  reason.  However  humble  and  submissive  may 
have  been  the  language  which  he  at  times  employed,  however  reverent 
and  self-abnegating  the  faith  which  marked  the  close  of  his  life, 
the  tenor  as  well  as  the  consequences  of  his  career  manifests  that 
such  was  the  main- spring  and  the  inevitable  tendency  of  his  teach- 
ings. The  revolution  which  he  commenced  was  introduced  by 
a  renewed  examination  of  the  rules  of  logic,  and  a  fresh  investi- 
gation of  the  principh\s  from  which  those  rules  were  deduced. 
The  impotence  and  fallacy  both  of  the  regenerated  realism  of  Wil- 
liam of  Champeaux,  and  also  of  the  Nominalism  of  Roscellinus, 
which  represented  respectively  the  existing  theology  and  the  antago- 

°  The  Pantheism  of  Erigcn.a  is  rccoj^niscl  by  both  Brucker  antl  Caraman; 
and  e-ven  in  the  age  of  Abolurd  tlie  celebrated  pnwf  of  the  existence  of  the  Deity, 
first  used  by  the  Saracens,  was  advanced  by  ISt.  Anselm,  borrowed  from  hira  by 
Descartes,  and  legitimately  used  in  later  times  by  Spinc-a  as  the  foundation  for 
a  Pantheistic  system. 


1853.]  The  Bacon  of  the  Nineteenth  Century.  349 

nistic  philosophy,  concentrated  the  attention  of  Abelard  on  the  main 
points  of  controversy  between  them ;  and  he  endeavoured  to  find  an 
intermediate  ground  for  the  refutation  of  both  in  the  ConceptuaHsm, 
of  which  he  may  himself  be,  perhaps,  regarded  as  the  founder, 
although  traces  of  it  appear  in  the  writings  of  Aristotle.  In  the 
development  of  his  doctrines,  he  took  those  wide  views  of  logic 
■which  had  long  been  prevalent,  and  he  embraced,  within  its  horizon, 
the  vast  expanse  of  all  knowledge ;  but,  at  the  same  time,  he  had 
the  merit  of  examining  with  unequalled  diligence  the  scanty  and 
imperfect  sources  of  the  Aristotelian  philosophy  which  Avere  then 
available,  and  of  supplying  by  his  own  vigorous  and  original  reflection 
the  deficiencies  left  by  the  fragmentary  state  of  his  authorities.  The 
latest  and  only  satisfactory  biographer  of  Abelard  fancies  that  there 
is  everywhere  discoverable  in  his  writings  a  manifest  leaning  towards 
Platonism,  though  this  tendency  was  repressed  and  denied  its  full 
fmit  from  the  ignorance  in  whicli  he  constantly  remained  of  the 
originals,  and  even  of  the  principal  works  of  Plato.* 

The  mission  of  Abelard  was  thus,  it  would  appear,  to  resist  the 
exclusive  domination  of  arbitrary  authority,  to  claim  for  the  reason 
its  legitimate  exercise  and  freedom  beyond  the  pale  of  what  was 
purely  religious  doctrine,  and  to  allay  the  fruitless  and  dangerous 
opposition  of  Realism  and  !Nomiuali.--ui,  both  of  which  he  per- 
ceived to  be  equally  untenable  and  self- contradictory.  He  saw 
that  the  reform  was  necessaril}'  to  be  commenced  against  lo'nc, 
and  this  at  that  time  embraced  al<o  metaphysics,  which  occu- 
pied his  attention  so  far  as  its  healthy  reconstruction  was  requisite 
for  the  development  and  expansion  of  a  more  satisfactory  scheme 
of  logic. 

Purposeless  as  the  brilliant  career  of  Abelard  may  seem  to  have 
been,  when  we  regard  either  the  furtuncs  of  his  own  life,  or  the 
scattered  fragments  of  his  philosopb.y  which  lie  has  left  to  our  times, 
the  instant  revival  of  intellectual  energy  which  followed  it,  and  re- 
sulted in  the  Sentences  of  Peter  Lombanl  and  the  Summa  of  St. 
Thomas  Aquinas,  in  the  experimental  science  of  Albert  the  Great 
and  of  Roger  Bacon,  in  the  construction  of  the  artificial  and  intri- 
cate logic  of  the  schoolmen,  shows  tliat  it  was  by  no  means  inope- 
rative in  the  production  of  our  mudrru  civilization,  and  in  the 
renewed  expansion  of  intellectual  progress. 

But  a  more  important  observation  than  this,  and  one  which  has  a 

*  Abelard,  par  Charles  de  Reniusat,  2  vols.,  Svo.,  Taris,  ISly.  It  is  from  this 
valuable  and  iutercstiug  -vrork  that  wc  have  jTincipally  derived  our  impressions 
of  Abelard,  whose  -H-ritings  we  have  had  but  scanty  opportunities  of  studying 
in  their  original  text. 


350  The  Bacon  of  the  Nineteenth  Century.  [July, 

much  closer  relation  to  the  main  purpose  of  our  inquiry,  is,  that  the 
lahours  of  Abelard  harmonized  and  -were  contemporaneous  T\-ith  a 
marked  crisis  in  the  religious,  political,  industrial,  and  social  condi- 
tion of  Europe.  They  mark  the  point  of  time  at  ^vhich  the  long 
refluent  tides  of  civilization  began  once  more  to  flow.  Among  the 
contemporary  events  -which  indicated  the  diversity  and  extent  of 
the  prevailing  agitation,  we  may  mention  the  formation  of  new  prin- 
cipalities and  kingdoms,  with  dissimilar  political  organizations ;  the 
preaching  and  achievement  of  the  first  Crusade;  the  quarrels  be- 
tween the  popes  and  the  German  emperors,  with  regard  to  investi- 
tures ;  the  consolidation  and  augmentation  of  the  Papal  power  under 
Gregory  A''II. ;  the  rise  of  the  Troubadours ;  the  revolt  and  inde- 
pendence of  Milan ;  the  establishment  of  Communes ;  the  appearance 
and  persecution  of  tlic  Waldcnscs,  and  the  revival  of  the  study  of 
the  Koman  law.  It  is  tioie  that  Abelard  left  no  distinct  school, 
and  did  not  himself  institute  any  heretical  sect,  however  his  writ- 
ings may  have  been  tainted  with  heresy ;  neither  did  he  apply  his 
principles  or  his  method  to  the  elucidation  and  solution  of  difficult 
sodal  and  political  problems ;  but  his  pupils,  and  those  who  had 
kindled  their  torches  at  his  lamp,  rendered  themselves  conspicuous  by 
their  union  of  chimerical  dreams  of  political  and  social  regeneration 
with  heretical  dogmas  of  the  mostvarying  shades.*  Among  the  imme- 
diate hearers  and  disci  [)les  of  Abelard  were  Berengarius  of  Poitiers,  and 
Arnold  of  Brescia — the  former  more  celebrated  in  the  history  of  the 
Church,  the  latter  in  the  chronicles  of  the  mediceval  revolutions  of 
Rome.  But  closely  connected  also  with  the  movement  commenced 
by  Abelard,  were  Peter  and  Henry  dc  Bruys,  and  the  sectaries  of 
Perigueux  and  Cologne,  who  foreshadowed,  in  some  degree,  the  fifth- 
monarchy-men  of  the  Great  liebellion,  and  anticipated  the  doctrine 
of  the  recent  French  Con)munists — la  propriete  c'cst  le  vol.\ 

These  brief  indications  may  suffice  tp  prove  both  the  profound 
disorder  of  society  which  prevailed  in  the  times  of  xibclard,  and  also 
the  intimate  but  indirect  connexion  which  subsisted  between  his 
teachings  and  the  subsequent  attempts  for  the  wild  redress  of  social 
grievances.  The  mutual  correlations  of  these  phenomena  cannot  be 
prudently  disregarded,  for  it  is  an  essential  feature  of  the  analogies 
which  we  are  considering  that  the  logical  and  metaphysical  reform 
was,  more  or  less  consciously,  inspired  by  the  need  for  the  ameliora- 
tion of  society,  and  was  attempted  by  a  recurrence  to  the  fiii-st  prin- 

o  Robfi-t  (du  Var.)  Hist,  de  la  Classe  Ouvriere,  llv.  x,  cb,  iv,  v.  Caraman, 
tome  ii,  p.  ISl. 

■  t  "  Nul  ne  doit  rien  possedcr  en  propro,"  said  tliosc  of  Perigueux.  Robert  (du 
Var.)  tome  iii,  p.  193. 


1853.]  The  Bacon  of  the  Nineteenth  Century.  351 

ciples  of  human  reasoaing,  and  by  the  overthrow  of  received  but 
erroneous  modes  of  thought  and  action.  It  is  necessary  to  recognise 
in  each  case  that  the  intellectual  reform  was  dictated  by  social 
grievances,  and  was  the  prelude  for  social  reorganization.  We  do 
not  mean  to  assimilate  Abelard  to  Socrates  or  Francis  Bacon,  either 
in  respect  to  the  extent  of  the  influence  exercised  by  him,  or  in  the 
depth  to  which  his  immediate  agency  penetrated.  Society  was  not 
fts  profoundly  nor  as  hopelessly  disorganized  in  his  day  as  it  was  in 
that  of  Socrates;  nor  was  the  intellectual  energy  of  his  time  or  its 
range  at  all  comparable  with  the  nascent  developments  of  the  sixteenth 
and^evcnteenth  centuries.  The  character  of  his  action  and  its  effects, 
^Yhile  preserving  a  general  analogy  to  the  procedure  and  influence 
of  the  earlier  and  the  later  reformer,  bore  its  due  and  special  relation 
to  the  characteristics  and  requirements  of  his  own  age.  Each  crisis 
had  its  own  distinct  peculiarities ;  and  it  was  only  in  their  broad 
principles  and  essence  that  the  several  instaurations  were  analogous. 
The  differences  are  more  numerous  than  the  resemblances,  and  re- 
quire to  be  carefully  eliminated;  but  the  similitudes  are  not  on  that 
account  the  less  important,  nor  are  the  analogies  less  significant. 
We  have  learned  from  Lord  Bacon  that,  amongst  the  prerogative 
instances,  not  the  least  serviceable  are  the  proportionate  instances:* 
and,  we  think,  that  the  marked  dissimilarities  which  contradistinguish 
the 'three  age's  we  have  cited  may  render  their  fundamental  agree- 
ment more  Striking  and  intelligible.  Although  it  may  be  an  antici- 
pation of  the  regular  course  of  tliis  investigation,  we  may  remark 
here  that,  in  the  instauration  undertaken  by  Socrates  and  Aristotle, 
■we  have  a  <^eneral  intellectual  reform  at  the  close  of  a  political  and 
social  cycle,  consequently  without  a<lequate  eft'ect  upon  the  com- 
munities of  antiquity ;  in  the  case  of  Abelard,  we  have  a  philosophi- 
cal renovation  at  theWtset  of  a  general  revival,  sustaining  itself  on  the 
fragment  and  cmmbs  of  past  learning,  and  consequently  not  wholly 
original  or  complete,  but  merely  the  promise  of  better  things  to 
come.  In  the  f^reat  instauration  of  Francis  Bacon,  we  discover  a 
movement  altogether  self-cognizant,  jn-oceeding  in  the  midst  of 
political  health  and  high  mental  culture,  imping  feathers  to  its  young 
and  growing  wings,  and  pluming  itself  with  hope  for  a  loftier  flight 
than  it  ever  reached  before.  It  is  remarkable  that  the  intellectual 
globe,  as  contemplated  by  the  prophetic  vision  of  Bacon,  filled  an 
ampler  sphere,  was  more  comprehen.Mvo  and  harmonious  in  its  parts, 
and  hung  more  justly  poised  upon  its  centre,  than  it  has  since 
appeared,  as  realized  by  the  labours  and  discoveries  of  his  soi-Jiscnt 
followers  and  admirers.  In  our  own  day  we  detect  an  order  of  things 
o  >'ovum  Organou,  lib.  ii,  ccph.  x.x.vii. 


352  The  Bacon  of  the  Nineteenth  Century.  [July, 

unlike  the  aspect  of  the  worki  at  any  of  the  previous  periods  of 
reform  in  many  important  particulars;  but,  Vihether  the  result 
will  furnish  a  close  parallel  for  the  first  of  these  critical  ages,  or 
supply  a  legitimate  continuation  of  the  progress  initiated  by  Abelard, 
and  accelerated  by  Bacon,  or  will  assume  an  entirely  original  hue, 
thus  constituting  the  culminating  epoch  of  human  intelligence,  we 
can  leani  only  from  the  future.  We  hope  and  believe,  for  the  reasons 
previously  alleged,  that  the  mental  throes  and  the  social  anguish 
"which  characterize  the  nineteenth  century,  much  more  significantly 
than  its  boasted  intellect,  may  yet  eventuate  in  the  greatest  instaura- 
tion  of  all  time — the  Inst  aura  fio  Maxima  succeeding  the  Instauratio 
Magna — and  light  up  the  meridian  and  not  the  setting  sun  of  modem 
intellect.  But,  retracing  the  vanishing  lines  of  former  progress, 
vre  may  notice  in  the  social  condition  of  the  several  ages  commented 
upon,  differences  corresponding  with  the  dissimilarities  observable 
in  their  respective  reformers  and  the  reforms  which  they  heralded 
or  achieved.  Thus  the  reciprocal  dependence  of  the  intellectual  and 
Bocial  action  of  all  times  may  be  recognised ;  and,  in  the  endeavour 
to  solve  the  social  problems  which  now  press  around  us,  we  may  be 
prepared  to  ascend  to  the  most  recondite  sources  of  logical  and 
metaphysical  speculation.  In  the  age  of  Socrates  and  Aristotle 
Greek  society  and  polity  were  both  completely  disintegrated,  and 
humanity  itself,  within  the  range  of  Greek  civilization,  was  degraded 
and  demoralized.  %]\q  wheels  of  the  machine  were  clogged  or  dis- 
connected, the  vital  energy  was  effete,  and  all  the  springs  of  civil 
action  had  lost  their  wonted  elasticity.  In  the  epoch  illustrated  by 
Abelard,  society,  though  disturbed,  was  full  of  life  and  \-igour ;  reck- 
less and  rude  might  be  the  impetuous  ebullitions  of  its  youth,  but 
these  only  announced  that  the  new  wine  of  civilization  was  beginning 
to  ferment  in  the  old  bottles.  When  Lord  Bacon  ran  his  illustrious 
career,  the  social  disease  was  only  a  passing  ailment,  general  and 
deep-seated  as  it  was.  It  had  been  occasioned  by  too  rapid  growth 
and  extraordinary  development,  not  by  any  radical  germ  of  decay. 
Now  we  witness  the  universal  anarchy  of  the  world  in  all  fonns  of 
Bpeculation  and  practice,  brought  about  by  the  tyranny  and  exclusive 
dominion  of  the  intellectual  autocracy,  which  we  have  enthroned  and 
almost  canonized.  It  is  the  lawless  ascendancy,  the  riotous  license 
of  the  reason  from  which  we  suffer — the  want  of  any  moral  authority — 
the  disregard  and  contempt  of  religion,  except  so  far  as  it  is  the 
plastic  creature  of  our  own  capricious  interpretations.  "We  forge 
in  these  days  the  creeds  in  which  alone  we  profess  to  believe;  and 
we  make  with  our  own  fancies  the  idols  which  we  pretend  to  venerate 
as  gods.     In  consequence  of  these  wide  discrepancies  between  the 


1853.]  The  Bacon  of  the  Nineteenth  Century.  353 

several  ages  specified,  we  may  naturally  expect  to  find  the  inherent 
analogy,  which  pervades  them  all,  disguised  under  diversities  and 
modifications  of  the  concomitant  phenomena.  But  it,  is  the  Iiighest 
exercise  of  the  reflecting  mind  to  eliminate  those  diversities,  and 
recognise  the  identity  of  the  animating  spirit,  notwithstanding  the 
changing  accidents  by  which  it  may  be  accompanied  in  its  various 
manifestations. 

But  we  must  return  from  this  long  digression.  "Whatever  his 
merits  in  other  respects,  Abelard  had  fallen  into  the  habitual  error 
of  his  time,  of  including  all  science  and  knowledge  under  logic — 
(virtually,  not  professedly) — and  of  regarding  the  various  depart- 
ments of  human  speculation  as  little  more  than  the  diverse  applica- 
tions of  deductive  reasoning.  He  was  thus  instmmental  in  giving 
to  human  thought  a  narrowness  of  range,  which  was  certain  at  some 
time  to  prove  fatal.  Friar  Bacon  did,  indeed,  solemnly  inaugurate 
the  experimental  method  of  philosophy,  and  his  Opus  Majus  must 
be  regarded  as  a  memorable  exani])le  of  original  genius  and  bold 
research,  and  as  a  wonderful  prelude  to  the  still  distant  reform. 
But  there  were  few,  or  none,  to  continue  his  labours,*  Albert  the 
Great  and  the  alchemists  being  the  onl}*  fellow-workers  in  the  same 
field.  The  tone  of  popular  superstition,  as  well  as  the  temper  of 
ecclesiastical  sentiment,  were  adverse  to  pursuits  which  discovered 
miracles — the  magnalia  naturoi — assigned  by  popular  ignorance  to 
diabolical  agencies.  Roger  Bacon,  moreover,  was  himself  too  much 
trammelled  by  the  prevalent  modes  of  argumentation,  by  his  deference 
to  authorities  not  entitled  to  regulate  his  inquiries,  and  by  the  habit 
of  justifying  even  scientific  views  by  tortunng  the  language  of 
Scripture  and  the  loose  expressions  of  the  Doctors  of  i\ic  Church. 
Such  obstAcles  and  defects  impeded  the  development  of  science, 
even  though  the  approaches  to  the  true  road  had  been  cleared  out. 
Thus  logic  rose  to  uncontested  supremacy,  and  the  authority  of 
Aristotle  was  amplified  into  an  un([ue3tioned  dominion.  But  the 
overshadowing  name  of  the  great  iStaglrite,  and  the  vicious  applica- 
tion of  mere  logical,  or  rather  eristic  retisoning  to  the  estimation  of 
the  phenomena  and  processes  of  nature,  rendered  the  interpretation 
of  the  facts  which  were  daily  raultii)lied  before  the  eyes  of  the 
curious  not  merely  defective,  but   positively  fallacious.     The  vice 

**  There  -svas  a  certain  John,  of  London,  \>y  whom  Roger  Bacon  sent  his  Oput 
Majlis  to  Pope  Clement  IV.,  of  -whom  he  y{.o:iks  in  the  most  flattering  terms. 
He  was  a  mere  hoy,  poor,  and  having  had  f-w  opportunities  of  learning;  yet 
Friar  Bacon  says  of  him  :  "  Me  scnem  in  nmlii*  tnniscciuiu  jiroiiter  vidiores  radices 
quas  recepit,  ex  quibus  potest  salubrcs  frucltit  rxptcture,  oil  quus  ego  nunquam  per- 
tingam."  Op.  Maj.,  ps.  i,  c.  10.  >Vhat  Uvamc  of  him?  What  would  have  Ixen 
the  result  had  he  been  able  to  prosecute  the  inquiries  of  his  teacher? 


354  Strong^s  Harmony  of  the  Gospels.  [July, 

of  the  procedure  was  apprehended  long  before  any  efficient  corrective 
■\vas  applied.  The  ridicule  of  llabelais,  and  the  sarcasm  of  Henry 
Cornelius  Agrippa,  no  less  than  the  premature  and  inefficacious 
projects  of  reform  attempted  by  Tclesio,  Patrizzi,  Giordano  Bruno, 
and  Cesalpini,  indicated  the  recognition  both  of  the  disease  and  of 
the  necessity  for  some  great  intellectual  renovation. 
The  discussion  Avill  be  concluded  in  another  article. 


Art.  n.— STllOXG'S  IIARMOisY  OF  THE  GOSPELS. 

A  Kcic  Harmony  and  Exposition  of  the  Gospels  :  consisting  of  a  Parallel  and 
Combined  Arrangement,  on  a  Nnv  Plan,  of  the  Narratives  of  the  Four  Evangelists, 
according  to  the  Authorized  Translation ;  and  a  Continicous  Commentary,  with 
Brief  Notes  subjoined.  With  a  Supplement,  C07itaining  extended  Chronological  and 
Topographical  Dissertations,  and  a  complete  Analytical  Lidex.  By  James  Steoxo, 
A.  M.     Sto.,  pp.  oG9.     New-York :  Lane  &  Scott,  1852. 

The  harmonizing  of  the  four  separate  histories  of  Jesus  given  us  in 
the  New  Testament  has  been  a  problem  of  interest  to  the  Church 
from  a  very  early  period  of  its  history.  So  early  as  A.  D.  170,  "we 
hear  of  a  collation  of  the  Gospels  by  Tatian,  the  disciple  of  Justin 
Martyr:  and  not  long  after  of  another  by  Ammonius ;  and  in  the  third 
and  fourth  centuries  we  find  Dionysius  of  Alexandria,  and  Gregory  of 
Nyssen,  engaged  in  reconciling  the  several  accounts  of  the  resurrec- 
tion. Did  the  original  historians  of  the  life  of  the  Saviour  stand 
upon  the  same  footing  as  ordinary  eye  and  ear  witnesses  of  events, 
all  disagreement  in  the  minute  detail  of  their  record,  would  be  explain- 
ed by  reference  to  the  natural  lapses  of  memory,  and  their  credibility 
would  be  deemed  sufficiently  established  by  their  general  agreement 
througliout.  They  are  received  by  us,  however,  not  only  as  truthful, 
but  also  as  inspired ;  and  it  has  therefore  been  demanded  that  they 
be  harmonized  in  every,  even  the  minutest  particular.  To  this 
problem  the  Church  has  addressed  herself  Avith  indefatigable  zeal — 
a  zeal  of  which  we  see  the  fruits  in  the  successive  publications  offer- 
ed to  the  public  bearing  upon  this  branch  of  inquiry. 

But  while  thus  engaged  in  educing  the  less  important  verbal 
agreement,  is  there  not  danger  of  losing  sight  of  the  higher  harmony 
of  the  spirit  evinced  in  our  fourfold  history  of  Christ?  As  the  prob- 
lem pertains  to  the  domain  of  the  Christian  evidences,  do  we  not  weaken 
our  position  by  practically  limiting  the  terra  Harmony  to  the  letter, 
which  we  usually  find  stubborn  and  intractable,  whenever  we  have  to 
deal  with  it,  and  failing  to  give  due  prominence  to  that  unity  of  the 


1853.]  Strong's  Har7nony  of  the  Gospels.  355 

evangelists  in  their  conception  of  Christ  and  his  mission,  which  at 
once  attests  their  truth  and  their  inspiration  ?  Thus  "we  have  four 
portraits  of  the  blessed  Redeemer,  but  it  is  the  one  Jesus  in  all;  the 
pictures  are  diverse,  and  yet  the  same.  Matthew  invests  him  with 
a  Jewish  garb,  and  much  of  the  light  which  falls  upon  the  canvass  is 
from  the  shrines  of  ancient  prophecy.  Mark  portrays  him  dis- 
charging the  outward  functions  of  his  office.  Luke  adds  the  traits 
that  pertain  to  Jesus  as  the  Saviour  of  humanity.  The  Gentile 
world  is  present  to  him  as  he  spreads  out  the  image  imprinted  on 
his  heart.  John  gives  those  features  which  have  given  his  record 
the  designation  of  ei-ayyiXiov  rrvevfiariKov,  the  Gospel  preeminently 
of  the  Spirit.  And  considering  the  extent  and  amplitude  of  the 
human  character  of  Christ,  this  divcrseness  could  not  fail  to  be.  "  He 
who  lived,"  remarks  Olshausen  in  his  introduction  to  the  Gospels, 
"a  purely  heavenly  life  on  earth,  and  spake  words  of  eternal  truth, 
could  not  but  be  very  variously  described,  according  to  the  charac- 
teristics of  the  human  soul,  which  received  the  rays  of  light  proceed- 
ing from  him.  Each  soul  rctlectcd  his  image  according  to  its  ov,n 
profundity  and  compass,  and  yet  each  might  be  right.  It  was  for 
this  reason  that  more  than  one  Gospel  was  included  in  the  collection 
of  the  sacred  writings,  since  only  the  presentation  of  different  por- 
traitures together  could  present  a  pavti:il  view  of  our  Saviours  charac- 
ter. As  it  is  only  from  the  accounts  of  Xenophon  and  Plato  tliat 
we  can  obtain  a  complete  picture  of  Socrates,  so  we  cannot  compre- 
hend the  life  of  our  Lord,  which  affords  so  many  different  aspects, 
without  uniting  the  different  traits  in  all  the  four  Gospels  into  one 
general  portraiture." "  And  when  wc  come  so  to  combine,  Ave  find 
that  the  evangelists  do  not  contradict,  but  supplement  each  other. 
No  one  of  them  has  failed  to  recognise  the  meekness,  the  patient 
enduring  love  of  Jesus ;  his  di.'ptli  of  wisdom,  his  well-adjusted  bear- 
ing, his  well-timed  discourse.  iSo  one  of  them  has  failed  to  recog- 
nise in  him  the  divine  working  in  and  through  the  human;  or  to 
exhibit  him  as  at  once  the  Son  of  Man,  and  the  Son  of  God.  We 
feel  as  we  read  that  here  there  is  no  contradiction,  that  there  has 
been  no  mistake.  The  sounds  are  as  of  several  chords,  but  the 
melody  is  one  and  the  same.  And  when  we  remember  that  these 
writers  were,  according  to  their  own  coufc-sion,  looking  for  another 
sort  of  Christ,  and  for  another  sort  of  kingdom  to  be  established  by 
him;  that  they  acknowledge  themselves  to  have  been  slow  in  gaining 
an  insight  into  his  character;  we  cannot  but  believe  that  naught  but 
his  living  presence  and  communion  Avith  them  could  have  impressed 
upon  their  hearts  that  image,  or  could  have  infused  into  them  that 
spirit  which  informs,  and  gives  consistency  to  all  our  Gospels. 


356  Strong''s  Haimony  of  the  Gospels.  [July, 

In  endeavouring  to  harmonize  these  -writings,  "we  must  bear  in 
mind  that  they  are  memorabilia,  rather  than  systematic  biographies 
professing  to  exhaust  the  entire  subject.  They  have,  it  is  true, 
something  of  method;  they  follow  the  flow  of  the  Saviour's  human 
life,  beginning  with  his  birth  or  with  his  ministry,  and  ending  with 
his  departure  from  our  world.  AVhcn,  however,  we  enter  upon  the 
record  of  the  public  ministry  of  Josus,  we  find  but  few  and  very 
general  notices  of  the  order  of  events  in  time ;  so  that  to  synchronize 
the  statements  of  the  evangelists  becomes  a  labour  requiring  the 
utmost  sagacity  and  skill.  The  Biblical  scholars  of  the  period  imme- 
diately succeeding  the  Reformation,  held  that  the  events  of  the  life 
of  Jesus  were  chronologicall}'  narrated,  from  which  they  inferred 
that  whenever  the  same  event  was  stated  in  different  connexions,  it 
had  really  occurred  twice.  Bishop  Newcome,  the  chief  of  the 
English  harmonists-,  rejected  this  theory,  as  Chemnitz  on  the  con- 
tinent had  done  before  him,  and  in  his  Preface  thus  states  the  prin- 
ciples upon  which  his  arrangement  of  the  Gospels  is  constructed : — 

"  By  diligently  attending  to  every  notation  of  time  and  place ;  by  observing 
that  particles  often  tbought  to  expiets  an  immediate  connexion  are  used  -with 
latitude ;  that  the  evangelists  are  more  intent  on  expressing  the  substance  of 
what  is  spoken,  than  the  worck  of  the  sjK,'aker;  that  they  neglect  accurate 
order  in  the  detail  of  particular  incidents,  though  they  preseiTe  a  good  general 
method;  that  dt'tached  and  detaik-d  events  are  sometimes  joined  toget-her,  on 
account  of  sameness  in  the  scene,  the  person,  the  cause,  or  the  consequences ; 
that  ill  such  concise  histories  as  the  Cio^pcls,  transitions  are  often  made  from 
one  fact  to  another  -without  any  intimation  that  important  matters  intervened. 
By  thus  entering  into  the  manner  of  tiic  evangelical  writers,  I  have  endeavoured 
to  make  them  their  own  harmonists." 

It  is  a  good' rule  of  criticism  not  to  demand  of  an  author  what  he 
does  not  profess  to  furnish  us.  The  aim  of  the  evangelists  is  to 
give  us  a  clear  and  life-like  representation  of  their  divine  ^Master ;  and 
in  so  doing,  they  let  his  words  and  liis  Avorks  speak  for  him.  Their 
interest  is  ethical;  with  the  scientific  interest  which  labours  to 
adjust  their  work  according  to  certain  rules  of  art,  they  have  nothing 
in  common.  The  form  in  which  they  have  left  their  Gospels  best  ac- 
cords with  what  we  know  of  the  extent  of  their  culture.  They  excel 
in  spiritual  insight ;  they  do  not  aim  at  artistic  elegance,  though  their 
histories  have  a  matchless  beauty,  an  unapproachable  charm  of  sim- 
plicity, by  which  they  are  prominently  distinguished  from  all  other 
writings  known  among  men.  Nor  does  it  appear  they  ever  stopped 
to  inquire  how  these  separate  accounts  would  fit  and  join  together. 
For  "  truth,  like  honesty,  often  neglects  appearances ;  hypocrisy  and 
imposture  are  always  guarded." 

Such  are  some  of  t^e  features  of  the  Gospels  as  they  strike  us  upon 


1853.]  Strong's  Harmomj  of  the  Gospels.  357 

a  general  view.  ^V^e  proceed  to  notice  tlio  more  specific,  problems 
Tfhicli  require  solution  at  the  hands  of  the  skilful  harmonist.  The 
first  results  from  a  comparison  of  the  synoptical  evangehsts  with  John, 
the  second  from  a  comparison  of  the  synoptists*  among  themselves. 
Kot  only  have  Ave  additional  matter  in  the  Gospel  of  John,  so  that 
as  much  as  two-thirds  of  it  may  be  said  to  be  new,  but  the  scene  of 
our  Lord's  ministry  is  mostly  placed  by  him  in  Judca,  while  by  the 
synoptists  it  is  mainly  located  in  Galilee.  They  mention  but  one 
Passover  in  the  process  of  that  ministry — the  one  at  which  our 
Saviour  suffered;  John  gives  us  certainly  three,  and  probably 
four.  Yet  there  are  not  a  few  hints  in  the  three  first  evangelists, 
which  indicate  that  Jesus  taught  \\\  Jerusalem  and  its  vicinity  as 
well  as  elsewhere.  Thus  in  Matt,  iv,  2.3,  and  xv,  1,  we  are  told  that 
Scribes  and  Pharisees  of  Jerusalem  came  to  Jesus  in  Galilee,  and 
sought  to  entrap  him  with  questions.  "  It  may  have  been  the  case," 
says  Neander,  "that  after  his  labours  in  Jerusalem  had  drawn 
their  hatred  upon  him,  they  followed  and  watched  him  suspiciously 
even  in  Galilee."  Christ's  sorrowing  over  Jerusalem  (Luke  xiii, 
34,  and  Matt,  xxiii,  37)  presupposes  an  earnest  and  protracted 
ministry  there.  Luke  also  confirms  (ch.  x,  38-42)  John's  ac- 
count of  the  intimacy  of  the  Saviour  with  the  family  of  Lazarus 
at  Bethany.  Kor  has  it  escaped  tlic  attention  of  the  critics,  that 
Luke,  (ch.  vi,  1,)  in  speaking  of  a  "second  Sabbath  after  the 
first,"  and  of  "  the  plucking  of  ripe  ears  of  corn"  at  that  time  by  the 
disciples,  suggests  the  occurrence  of  a  Passover  during  the  progi-ess 
of  our  Lord's  ministry  in  addition  to  the  final  one.  It  is  therefore, 
and  doubtless  correctly,  assumed  by  l>ibiical  scholars,  that  the  events 
recorded  by  the  synoptists  extendi  through  several  years — through 
as  many,  indeed,  as  are  indicated  by  the  Passovers  in  John.  And 
the  efforts  and  skill  of  harmonists  are  chicOy  employed  in  distri- 
buting the  "contents  of  the  three  first  Gospels  throughout  the  several 
years  of  the  Saviour's  public  labours  on  oartli,  as  given  by  the  beloved 
disciple.  Wherever  the  synoptists  and  John  narrate  the  same 
events,  this  adjustment  is  easily  tficcted — wherever  the  matter  is 
peculiar  to  the  synoptists  alone,  there  is  wide  room  for  deliberation 
and  conjecture.  There  is  by  no  means  entire  unanimity  in  the  de- 
termination of  the  number  of  Passovers  in  Christ's  ministry;  some 
critics  making  them  three,  and  others  fi>nr,  accordingly  as  they  inter- 
pret John  V,  1.  The  weight  of  critical  authority  at  present  favours 
the  latter  position,  thus  giving  to  our  Saviour's  public  ministrations 
a  period  of  about  three  years  and  a  half. 

°  We  need  hardly  apologize  for  using  tbis  convenient  term,  as  applied  to  Mat- 
thew, Mark,  and  Luke. 


358  Strong^s  Harmony  of  the  Gospels.  [July, 

•  The  arrangement  of  the  matter  contained  in  Luke,  from  chap,  ix, 
51  to  xviii,  14,  which  is  for  the  most  part  peculiar  to  him  alone,  has 
occasioned  much  and  confessed  difficulty.  From  the  language  of  verse 
51,  ch.  ix,  there  can  he  no  doubt  that  these  discourses  and  events 
belong,  for  the  most  part,  to  the  period  subsequent  to  our  Lord's 
last  recorded  departure  for  Jerusalem.  The  disposition  of  them  de- 
pends upon  the  answer  given  to  the  question,  What  was  the  course 
of  Christ's  travels  from  the  time  of  the  Feast  of  Tabernacles  in 
October  (John  vii,  2)  to  that  of  his  final  arrival  at  Bethany  six  days 
before  his  last  Passover?  Most  harmonists  suppose  a  return  to 
Galilee  in  the  interval  between  the  Feast  of  Tabernacles  and  that 
of  the  Dedication,  (John  x,  22,)  in  order  to  make  place  for  this  por- 
tion of  Luke.  Among  these  are  Schleiermacher,  Neandcr,  and  01- 
shausen.  Others,  following  the  letter  of  John's  account,  dispose  of 
it  in  another  way.  Of  this  view  are  Liicke,  Tholuck,  and  others ;  and 
in  our  own  countr}',  Dr.  Robinson  and  Mr.  Strong.  Dr.  Robinson 
states  his  general  scheme  of  this  portion  of  Clirist's  life  as  fol- 
lows : — 

"  According  to  John's  narrative,  Jesus,  after  leaving  Galilee  to  go  up  to  the 
Festival  of  Tabernacles  in  October,  (John  vii,  10,)  did  not  return  to  Galilee; 
but  spent  the  time  intervening:;  before  tlie  Festival  of  Dedication  in  December, 
probabl)  in  Jv^rusalem  ;  or,  uLen  in  danger  from  the  Jews,  in  the  neighbouring 
villages  of  Judea.  John  viii,  .59  ;  Luke  x,  38,  33.  Had  Jesus  actually  returned 
to  Galilee  during  this  interval,  it  can  hanlly  be  supposed  that  John,  vho  had  so 
carefully  noted  our  Lord's  return  thither  after  each  visit  to  Jerusalem,  could 
have  tailed  to  have  given  some  hint  of  it  in  this  case  also,  either  after  ch.  viii,  59, 
or  after  ch.  x,  2L  But  neither  John  nor  the  other  evangelists  afford  any  such 
hint.  Immediately  after  the  Festival  of  Dedication,  Jesus  withdrew  from  the 
machinations  of  tlie  Jews  beyond  Jordan,  whence  he  was  recalled  to  Bethany 
by  the  decease  of  Lazarus.  John  x,  40,  and  xi,  7.  He  then  once  more  retired 
to  Ephraim,*  and  is  found  again  at  Bethany  six  days  before  the  Passover. 
John  xi,  54,  and  xii,  1. 

"  If  now  we  examine  more  closely  the  portion  of  Luke  in  question,  (ix,  51- 
xviii,  14,)  wc  perceive,  that  though  an  onier  of  time  is  discernible  in  certain 
parts,  yet  as  a  whole  it  is  wanting  in  exact  chronological  arrangement.  This, 
mdeed,  is  admitted  at  the  present  day  by  all  harmonists  and  commentators. 
It  would  seem  almost  as  if  m  this  portion,  peculiar  to  Luke,  that  evangelist, 
dSlcr  recording  many  of  the  earlier  transactions  of  Jesus  in  Gahlee,  in  accord- 
ance with_]\IaUhew  and  I^Iark,  had  here,  upon  our  Ix)rd's  final  departure  from 
tliat  province,  brought  together  this  new_  and  various  matter  of  his  own, 
relating  j)artly  to  our  Lord's  previous  ministry  in  Galilee,  partly  to  this 
journey,  and  still  more  to  his  subsequent  proceedings,  until  the  narrative 
(in  ch.  xviii,  15)  again  becomes  parallel  to  the  accounts  of  Matthew  and 
Mark.t  ^ 

"'This  place  Dr.  R.  holds  to  be  probably  identical  with  Ephron  and  OpLrah  of 
the  Old  Testament,  and  to  be  represented  by  tlie  modern  Taiyibeb,  "situated 
nearly  twenty  Roman  miles  N.  N.  E.  of  Jerusalem." 

t  Harmony,  p.  199.  ,   ,•; 


1853.]       '         Strong* s  Harmony  of  the  Gospels.  359 

We  -will  not  follow  farther  the  condensed  yet  cogent  reasoning  by 
which  the  above  distribution  is  justified,  but  present  its  results  in 
brief,  tabular  form : — 

Chap,  in  Luke.  Time.                                                 Place. 

ix,  ol-x,  IG  \  Eetwcen   second   Passover 

xi,  14-xiii,    9  v  end  journey  to  Feast  of        Galilee, 

xvii,  11-19  )  Tabernacles. 

V  17  v;   ^'^\  Between  Feast  of  Tab.  and        Near  Bethany  and  Jeru- 

X,  u  XI,  10  I  p^^g^  ^f  Dedication.                             salem. 

The  visit  to  Jerusalem  at  the  Feast  of  the  Dedication  is  recorded 
by  John,  from  whom  we  learn  that  to  avoid  the  plots  of  the  Jews, 
Jesus  retires  to  Bethany  beyond  Jordan ;  from  thence  he  returns  to 
Hither  Bethany,  and  raises  Lazarus  from  the  dead  (ch.  xi,  1-4G); 
and  after  a  short  stop  at  Jerusalem,  returns  to  Ephraim,  a  city  be- 
yond Jordan,  and  near  to  the  wilderness.  At  this  point,  the  thread 
of  Luke's  narrative  is  taken  up  again,  and  we  have : — 

Luke.  Tiiiip.  Pl.icc. 

xiii,  10-xviii,  14:         )     Between  Podioation  and       Epliraim  and  Perea  to 
(Except  x\-ii,  11-19)       )  Pasiovi-r.  Jerusalem. 

We  believe  that  Dr.  Robinson  was  the  first  harmonist  to  assign 
Luke  xiii,  22  with  the  events  following  to  ch.  x^'iii,  14  (a  few  verses 
of  chap,  xvii  excepted)  to  the  above- dc.-cribod  journey  through  Perea, 
"on  his  return  to  Bethany,  after  sojouming  at  Ephraim."  From 
this  point  we  may  readily  suppo>e  our  Lord  to  have  visited  the 
neighbouring  villages,  and  to  have  exercised  his  ministry  on  either 
side  of  the  river  Jordan. 

■  Another  and  still  more  interesting  problem  results  from  a  compari- 
son of  the  synoptists  among  themselves.  An  inspection  of  these 
shows  that  they  are  exceedingly  similar,  not  only  in  general  outline, 
but  also  in  forms  of  expression,  \\\  words,  and  entire  sentences.  At  the 
same  time,  each  writer  has  a  specific  ch.\ractcr,  and  while  in  the  nar- 
rative of  each  there  is  so  much  identity  <;f  ])liniscology,  there  is  suffi- 
cient diversity  to  make  the  solution  of  the  entire  phenomenon  per- 
plexing to  the  Biblical  student.  These  resemblant  portions  can  be 
best  ascertained  by  inspecting  the  pages  of  a  (I reek  Harmony.  Dr. 
Davidson,  in  his  Introduction  to  the  New  Testament,  gives  a  list  of 
fifty-eight  passages  harmonizing  "  in  matter  and  in  manner,"  common 
to  the  three  evangelists :  twenty-six  coMuaon  to  Matthew  and  ]Mark ; 
seventeen  found  only  in  Mark  and  Luke;  and  thirty-two  common 
to  Matthew  and  Luke.  The  lists  of  the  various  critics  will,  of  course, 
differ.  It  has  been  remarked  that  these  "coincidences  chiefly  occur 
in  narrating  the  words  of  Jesus,  or  the  words  of  others  elicited  in  the 
process  of  conversation  with  him.  When  the  evangelists  speak  in 
their  own  persons,  their  statements  arc  not  so  closely  similar." 


360  Strong's  Harmony  of  the  Gospels.  [July, 

To  account  for  this  similarity  in  diversity,  and  this  diversity  in 
similarity,  various  theories  have  been  proposed.  They  are  sub- 
joined, not  because  any  one  of  them  is  entirely  satisfactory,  but  be- 
cause they  evince  much  ingenuity,  and  partake  largely  of  the  interest 
which  attaches  to  the  subject-matter  of  which  they  treat.  The 
reader  will  not  be  surprised  to  discover  that  the  lack  of  much  ground- 
work of  fact  is  endeavoured  to  be  compensated  by  the  abundant 
under-pinning  and  bracing  of  hypothesis. 

The  first  supposition  is  that  of  Eichhorn,  adopted  by  Marsh, 
Kuinoel  and  others,  that  our  four  histories  of  Christ  are  derived 
from  the  revisions  of  an  original  Aramaean  Gospel.  The  various 
transmutations  of  this  first  Gospel,  from  its  simple  state  to  the  final  one 
sought  to  be  accounted  for,  resemble,  when  drawn  out  on  paper,  the 
steps  of  a  laboured  geometrical  demonstration.  The  substance  of  the 
theory  is,  that  the  original  Syro-Chaldaic  document  underwent  four 
different  revisions,  each  revision  adding  some  new  matter.  These 
recensions  duly  translated  form  the  basis  of  our  synoptical  accounts, 
the  writers,  where  they  agree,  using  the  same  sources.  It  is  un- 
necessary to  di'aw  out  this  hypotiiesis  into  detail.  It  is  a  sufiicient 
objection  to  it  that  we  have  no  historical  account  of  such  an  original 
Gospel ;  while  the  extremely  artificial  processes  through  Avhich  it  is 
made  to  pass,  the  nicely-adjusted  proportions  in  which  one  recension 
or  another  must  be  used,  in  order  to  give  the  requisite  quantity  of 
agreement  and  of  difference  to  the  several  products,  show  infallibly 
that  the  whole  theory  is  false. 

Another  and  more  plausible  supposition  is,  that  the  authors  of  the 
first  three  Gospels  made  more  or  less  use  of  each  other.  There  will, 
of  course,  be  three  forms  of  ihi.s  theory,  according  as  Matthew,  ]Mark, 
or  Luke,  is  made  the  original  historian.  But  plausible  as  it  appears, 
it  is  beset  with  invincible  dinioulties.  ^ye  would  expect  to  be  able 
to  determine  which  of  the  Gospels  is  the  original  one;  but  on  this 
question  critics  are  altogether  at  variance.  In  truth,  neither  Matthew, 
Mark,  nor  Luke,  Avrites  like  an  ejiitomizer  or  copyist.  Even  Mark, 
who  is  styled  by  so  venerable  aythority  as  Augustine,  an  abridger 
of  Matthew,  has  the  distinctive  traits  of  an  independent  writer.  lie 
does  not  so  much  abridge  as  omit  what  Matthew  has  stated;  and 
when  their  narrative  is  in  many  points  the  same,  there  are  added  in 
Mark  striking  and  vivacious  details.  Luke,  in  his  introduction,  pro- 
fesses to  be  more  than  a  comjnler  from  his  brother  evangelists. 
Neither  does  his  object  seem  to  be  to  supplement  and  fill  out  their 
statements ;  for  he  docs  not  always  make  clearer  what  in  them  is  in- 
definite, or  amplify  what  in  th.em  is  brief  Dr.  Davidson  sums  up 
the  objections  to  this  hypothesis  in  the  following  words: — "Diver- 


1853.]  Strong's  Harmony  of  the  Gospels.  361 

sity  in  arrangement  and  matter  is  so  intermingled  Avith  correspun- 
detice — the  discrepances  so  interlace  the  ngrccmeuts  in  every  pos- 
sible variety,  that  it  is  hard  to  believe  the  assumption  that  any  one 
copied  from  another,  or  from  two ;  or  that  he  revised  them ;  or  that 
he  intended  to  supplement  them  in  a  particular  method.  The  indi- 
\iduality  of  each  writer  can  scarcely  be  lost  sight  of  in  the  midst  of 
very  close  verbal  correspondences.  The  coincidences  in  diction 
seldom  continue  throughout  a  single  verse  at  a  time.  They  are 
limited  to  broken  parts  of  sentences.  They  are  separated  by  dis- 
crepances in  every  mode.  There  is  a  zig-zag  line  of  variations  run- 
ning through  that  of  coiTespondcnccs,  showing  that  the  writer  was 
not  dependent  on  the  matter,  much  less  the  language  of  his  pre- 
decessors. For  copying  of  so  capricious  a  kind,  it  is  impossible  to 
assign  any  motive.  It  is  pervaded  by  no  principle  of  selection.  It 
is  like  the  play  of  arbitrary  caprice,  without  any  perceptible  aim  or 
purpose."* 

Another  supposition,  by  which  it  is  proposed  to  account  for  these 
coincidences,  is  that  which  refers  them  to  a  common  oral  tradition — 
a  tradition  which  had  obtained,  in  some  rc'^pccts,  a  stereotyped  form 
before  being  committed  to  writing.  This  thought  was  first  suggested 
by  Herder,  but  was  afterward  more  fully  elaborated,  and  put  into 
such  shape  as  to  command  the  attention  of  the  learned,  by  Gieseler, 
the  Church  historian.  In  a  somewhat  modi  tied  form  it  has  received 
the  assent  of  such  eminent  nnmes  as  Schleiermacher,  Sai'torius, 
Guerike,  and  Thiersch.  According  to  it,  the  common  source  of  the 
three  Gospels  would  be  the  apostulic  preaciiing.  The  death  of  some 
of  the  original  witnesses,  and  the  natural  growth  of  eiTor  and  mis- 
statement, would  finally  make  it  necessary  to  embody  this  spoken 
Gospel  in  writing.  This  theory  accords  well  with  what  we  know  of 
the  habits  and  culture  of  the  fir.-t  teachers  of  Christianity.  The 
abundant  endowments  of  the  Holy  Spirit  suHicod  to  preserve  unity 
among  the  twelve.  And  having  froiiucnt  occasion  to  rehearse  specifie 
parts  of  the  life  of  the  Saviour,  and  thrsc  rehearsals  being  carefully 
treasured  up  by  their  hearers,  there  would  .'Spontaneously  grow  up 
an  oral  history,  authentic,  and,  to  a  large  degree,  fixed  in  form  and 
phrase.  Nor  is  this  supposition  injure<l  by  the  perversion  made  of 
it  for  the  support  of  the  mythical  hypothesis.  For  at  this  point  the- 
testimonies  to  the  genuineness  of  the  Go.-pels  come  in — testimonies 
•which  indubitably  show  that  tluy  as  ere  written  while  a  goodly  num- 
ber of  the  men  who  had  been  with  (^hrist  wore  still  living,  and  con- 
sequently before  a  mythical  tendency  could  have  had  time  and  scope 
to  operate. 

^Introduction  to  tl.o  Go'^pcls,  vol.  i,  p.  397. 

Fourth  Series,  Yol.  A'.— 23 


362  Strong^s  Hannony  of  the  Gospels.  [July, 

"While  not  a  fcAv  critics  are  content  to  rest  in  the  theory  just 
stated  as  the  best  that  can  be  attained,  others  seek  to  combine  with  it 
that  which  supposes  the  three  evangelists  to  have  made  use  of  each 
other.  To  this  number  belong  Do  Wettc,  Olshausen,  and  Meyer. 
By  this  combination  the  advantages  of  both  suppositions  are  thought 
to  be  secured.  How  much  shouM  be  referred  to  tradition,  and  how 
much  to  mutual  use  of  each  other  by  the  evangelists,  Avill  depend  in 
every  case  upon  the  views  of  the  Biblical  scholar.  The  reader  will 
very  probably  feel  that  none  of  the  above  conjectures  are  satisfactory; 
if,  hoAvever,  their  presentation  shall  lead  to  a  closer  scrutiny  of  the 
evangelists  in  question,  our  object  will  have  been  attained. 

It  gives  us  pleasure  to  refer  to  the  Avork  whose  title  stands  at  tbe 
head  of  this  article,  as  an  evidence  of  the  deep  interest  prevalent 
among  us  in  Biblical  studies.  It  is  the  more  acceptable  as  coming 
from  a  layman,  proving  that  the  zeal  requisite  for  such  pursuits  is 
not  confined  to  the  ministry  alone.  We  do  not  hesitate  to  say 
that  Strong's  Harmony  has  distinctive  features,  which  make  it 
for  popular  use  superior  to  any  ever  before  issued.  At  the  same 
time,  its  execution  is  thorough  and  scholar-like.  No  difficulty  is 
evaded;  no  pains,  no  labour  is  spared.  The  general  arrrangement 
of  the  matter  is  the  same  as  that  of  Bishop  Newcome  and  Dr.  Robin- 
son. The  work  is  so  constructed  as  to  serve  the  two-fold  purpose 
of  a  Harmon}'  and  an  Exposition.  In  accomplishing  the  former 
object,  Mr.  Strong  lias  hit  upon  the  happy  idea  of  making  a  com- 
plete text  out  of  the  very  words  of  the  evangelists — taking  now  one 
.and  now  another  as  the  leading  narrator,  and  weaving  in  the  addi- 
tional statements  of  the  others  in  a  smaller  type.  Along  with  this, 
ihe  parallel  arrangement  of  Newcome  is  retained,  so  that  the  reader 
has  before  him  at  once  the  separate  texts  of  the  inspired  writers, 
and  a  combined  text  made  out  of  them  all.  By  running  his  eye 
across  the  page  he  can  sec  whence  the  added  elements  have  been 
derived,  and  so  perform  his  task  of  comparing  Scripture  with  Scrip- 
ture with  readiness  and  ease.  Harmonies  have  usually  been  repul- 
sive to  general  readers,  and  not  very  inviting  to  students.  The 
labour  of  passing  over  column  after  column  of  parallel  matter,  and 
the  effort  necessary  to  hold  fast  in  the  mind  the  features  of  resemblance 
and  difiercncc,  suffice  to  deter  from  such  studies  all  but  the  most  in- 
defatigable investigators  of  Scripture  truth.  ]\Ir.  Strong's  arrange- 
ment removes  these  ditliculties  at  once,  and  brings  the  Harmony  of 
the  Gospels  within  the  sphere  of  popular  aj)preciation,  making  it 
available  for  family  reading,  for  Bible-classes,  and  for  Sabbath- 
schools.  To  the  latter  we  commend  it  as  a  valuable  addition  to  their 
apparatus  for  the  instruction  of  the  young. 


1853.]  Strong's  Harmony  of  the  Gospels.  363 

The  execution  of  the  other  part  of  the  aim  proposed— the  Exposi- 
tion—has been  achieved  by  giving  a  free  version  of  the  sacred  text 
in  current  modern  phrase.  Here,  Hkcwise,  a  twofold  object  was  to  be 
secured— one,  the  bringing  out  the  h^gicul  connexion  of  the  thoughts 
and  language  of  the  evangelic  record,  in  which  many  commentators 
fail;  the  other,  the  exhibition  of  tiic  substance  of  the  Gospels  in 
terras  not  flimiliar,  and  which  have  not,  therefore,  lost  much  of  their 
significance  by  an  unthinking  repetition.  In  tracing  out  the  sequence 
of  ideas  we  think  that  Mr.  Strong  ha.s  succeeded  eminently  well;  in 
making  a  free  version  of  the  Gospels,  wo  are  inclined  to  think  that 
no  man  has  succeeded  well.  Our  old  English  translation  has  be- 
come sacred  in  the  estimation  of  the  millions  to  whom  the  language 
is  vernacular.  The  excellent  treasure  has  sanctified  the  vessel  that 
carries  it.  It  strikes  us,  too,  tliat  in  seeking  substitutes  for  the 
simple  terms  of  the  received  version,  Mr.  Strong  has  sometimes 
gone  to  the  opposite  extreme.  Yet  Avithal  his  Kxposition  is  terse, 
vigorous,  and  eminently  suggestive.  2s'o  one  can  read  it  without 
being  set  to  thinking  upon  the  depth  of  meaning  there  is  in  those 
precious  words  which  we  are  too  apt  to  let  fall  carelessly  from  our 
tongues.  In  the  translation  and  exposition  of  John  especially,  Mr. 
Strong's  habits  of  thorougli,  profound  thinking,  appear  to  gi^eat  ad- 
vantage. 

The  carefully  prepared  Appendices  greatly  enhance  the  value  of 
the  work.'  The  first  contains  a  table  of  weiglits,  measures,  vVc,  an 
elaborate  discussion  of  the  time  of  Chri.st's  birth,  and  a  comparative 
table  of  different  Harmonies.  This  latter,  which  includes,  amoncr 
others,  the  names  of  Lightfoot,  Kewcome,  Robinson,  and  Tischen- 
dorf,  is  of  great  interest  and  importance  to  the  student.  x\ppendix 
second  comprises  a  thorough  and  acute  discussion  of  the  topography 
of  ancient  Jerusalem,  with  maps  of  the  ancient  and  modern  locali- 
ties; and  Appendix  third  gives  an  Index  and  Analysis  (covering 
seventy-eight  pages)  of  the  Gospel  history.  Every  page  of  the  book 
gives  evidence  of  unsparing  labour,  while  the  beautiful  letter-press 
and  finished  lithographs  make  it  a  gem  of  typography. 

Wc  are  pleased  to  learn  that  Mr.  Strong  is  preparing,  upon  the 
same  plan,  a  Greek  Harmony,  with  the  various  readings.  "\Ve  have 
no  doubt  that  it  will  be  cordially  welcomed  by  scholars  throughout 
our  country. 


364  Daniel  Boone.  [July, 


Art.  m.— DANIEL  BOONE. 

Life  of  Daniel  Boone,  the  Pioneer  of  Kentuch/.  By  John  M.  Peck.  Library 
of  American  Biography,  conducted  Ly  Jared  Sparks.  Second  Series,  yoI.  viii. 
Boston  :  Little  &:,  Brown. 

The  life  of  Boone  might  have  been  given  to  the  world  earlier.  A 
quarter  of  a  century  after  the  death  of  a  man  so  little  affected  by 
partisan  prejudices,  so  little  liable  to  undue  admiration  for  any  pecu- 
liar brilliancy  of  talent  or  achievements,  was  late  enough  to  commence 
the  task  of  collecting  and  arranging  materials  for  a  pro]ier  exhibit 
of  his  career  and  character.  In  all  that  constitutes  a  "Life" — those 
acts  and  words,  those  qualities  of  head  and  heart,  that  go  to  make 
up  tlK?  social  man — there  is  as  powerful  a  tendency  to  dissolution  as 
in  the  physical  system.  The  social  life-principle,  like  corporeal 
vitality,  aggi-egates  to  itself  the  materials  of  manhood,  fills  uji  the 
stature  according  to  its  original  type,  modified  merely  by  the  acci- 
dents of  growth,  and  maintains  the  equilibrium  of  waste  and  supply, 
until  death  subjects  the  uhole,  the  hidden  soul  alone  excepted,  to  the 
great  laws  of  elemental  decomposition.  Then,  not  more  rapidly 
does  the  body  decay  in  the  grave  than  does  the  social  character  dis- 
sipate and  dissolve  "  into  thin  air,"  unless  some  artificial  means  be 
made  use  of  for  its  preservation.  Biography,  written  or  tl-aditional, 
is  the  crystal  sarcophagus,  in  which  the  social  man  may  be  exhibited 
to  after  ages. 

Memory  must  not  postpone  too  long  the  process  of  embalming. 
Let  a  few  years  elapse  after  the  death  of  an  individual,  of  whatever 
notoriety,  and  it  is  difljcult  to  gather  up  from  the  scattered  rel'cs 
of  his  social  character,  fragments  enough  to  construct  even  a  frail 
raft,  with  which  to  keep  his  name  for  a  brief  hour  above  tlie  waters 
of  oblivion.  Ja  a  few  centuries,  fragmentary  annals  and  snatches 
of  biographical  delineation,  toucliing  tiie  early  days  of  the  American 
continent,  will  be  as  precious  and  venerable  as  Rorxjan  relics. 
Skulls,  skeletons,  thigh  bones,  and  vertebra,  will  not  be  demanded ; 
a  few  hairs,  a  few  tears,  a  few  blood-drops,  a  joint  of  a  finger,  or 
even  the  teeth  and  toe-nails  of  departed  greatness,  will  be  precious  in 
the  eyes  of  posterity.  As  America  was  the  first  nation  in  the  world 
to  commence  existence  with  a  written  constitution,  so  it  is  the  first 
to  commence  its  being  with  written  annals.  No  clouds  of  tradition- 
ary speculations  rest  upon  her  origin;  no  long  series  of  traditionary 
fables  conduct  to  her  true  history.  In  the  beginning  the  historic 
muse   said,  "Let   there  be   light,"  and  fable  fled  with  the  dark- 


1853.]  Daniel  Boone.  365 

ness  that  rolled  like  a  scroll  from  the  face  of  the  new  con- 
tinent. 

The  obligation  of  the  present  generation  to  collect  and  embody 
the  recollections  of  the  men  and  thws  that  have  just  preceded  ns,  is 
a  trite  theme.  Far  better  is  it  that  they  be  gathered  by  \iralent 
partisans,  than  left  to  perish  forever.  Masses  of  facts,  incidents, 
and  anecdotes,  Avhether  the  philosopln-  be  false  or  entirely  Tvanting, 
like  the  observations  of  ship-capt:iins.  from  -svliich  Newton,  in  his 
arm-chair,  deduced  the  doctrine  and  calculated  the  amount  of  the 
earth's  oblateness,  will  one  day  be  the  clew  to  the  great  laws  of 
national  character  and  progress. 

The  timely  services  of  President  Sj)arks,  in  rescuing  from  forget- 
fulness  the  names  and  acts  of  good  and  great  men,  have  been  so 
often  and  so  generally  acknowledged,  both  at  home  and  abroad, 
that  the  attempt  to  praise  him  or  his  labours  would  be  like  crying  up 
the  utility  of  light.  Doctor  Spark.s  is  a  fortunate  editor,  as  well  as 
a  successful  author.  This  is  one  of  the  peculiarities  of  the  lucky 
times  upon  which  he  has  fallen.  In  the  early  days  of  the  typographic 
art,  the  only  parties  known  to  each  other  were  the  author  and  his  pub- 
lisher. The  invention  of  those  singular  vehicles  of  communication, 
newspapers,  created  that  singular  nucleus  of  responsibility  and  labours, 
denominated  editor.  From  the  supervision  of  those  transient  leaves 
of  history,  those  single  pages  from  the  records  of  intelligence,  those  sin- 
gle views  of  the  shilling  panorama  v\'  .social  existence,  men  have  risen 
to  be  editors  of  the  more  permanent  results  of  rcfiection  and  wisdom, 
embodied  in  magazines,  quarterlies,  lindgcwater  Treatises,  and  ency- 
clopccdias.  The  indefatigable  editor  of  the  Writings  of  Washington 
is  no  putfcerer  with  the  blank  pages  of  index  rcrums — he  is  the  con- 
ductor of  a  LIBRARY !  Ages  since,  whole  tomes  emanated  from  a 
single  brain.  The  sanctity  of  the  author's  study  was  rarely  invaded 
during  his  hfe-time.  It  was  not  until  his  death  that  the  editor  ven- 
tured into  his  dusty  retreat,  and  feasted  his  eyes  on  the  piles  of  yel- 
low manuscript  to  be  converted  into  volumes  of  formidable  size  and 
weight,  and  sufficiently  numerous  of  themselves  to  constitute  a  library. 
The  modern  author,  on  the  contrary,  makes  his  reader  the  companion 
of  his  labours  so  soon  as  he  has  completed  a  few  chapters  of  his 
work,  and  stands,  like  Apellcs.  behind  his  own  canvass,  where  he 
can  listen  to  the  comments  of  the  multitude  before  he  gives  the  final 
touches  to  liis  performance.  Those  old  writers  knew  not  the  conve- 
nience of  having  their  works  "  edited  "  during  the  period  of  their  own 
lives.  Plutarch  might  have  performed  his  work  more  satisfactorily 
to  himself,  perhaps  more  correctly,  and,  forsooth,  more  acceptably  to 
posterity,  had  he  simply  edited  his  Lives,  instead  ot  taxing  his  own 


366  Daniel  Boone.  [July, 

hand  and  brain  to  cxliibit  such  a  variety  of  circumstance  and  char- 
acter. "With  characters  enough  before  him,  and  unlimited  com- 
mand of  the  resources  of  division  of  labour,  Tve  cannot  but  reiterate 
the  often-expressed  hope,  that  Mr.  Sparks  will  not  tern)inate  his 
library  with  the  second  or  third  scries ;  but  that  when,  in  the  course 
of  nature  or  events,  it  becomes  impossible  for  him  to  conduct  it 
longer,  it  will  pass  by  regular  succession  into  the  hands  of  some 
equally  competent  manager,  to  become  a  series  as  interminable  as 
the  destinies  of  the  American  people. 

At  the  head  of  the  Life  of  Boone,  as  its  responsible  author,  stands 
the  name  of  John  M.  Peck.  With  those  acquainted  with  this  gen- 
tleman, or  familiar  with  his  historic  labours,  there  will  arise  no  ques- 
tion as  to  his  com[)ett'ncy  to  prepare  a  work  of  this  description,  or 
of  his  fitness  to  rank  as  a  biographer  in  the  illustrious  names  that 
gi-ace  the  literary  character  of  other  portions  of  the  series.  He  is 
an  indefatigable  antiquarian,  an  historical  sceptic,  an  untiring  inqui- 
sitor in  names  and  dates  and  facts,  philosophic  and  fluent,  both  with 
pen  and  tongue,  in  the  display  of  the  results  of  his  labours  and 
research.  To  this  wo  may  add  his  thirty  years'  residence  in  the 
vicinity  of  the  incidents  he  unfolds,  and  his  personal  acquaintance 
with  his  subject  and  his  numerous  posterity.  It  is  pleasing  to  see 
with  what  an  unsparing  hand  he  sweeps  away  the  fictions  of  the 
Timothy  Flint  school  of  writers,  that  have  found  their  way,  with 
singular  facility,  into  histories  and  memoirs  of  soberer  characters. 
Biography  often  partakes  as  much  of  the  character  of  its  author  as 
of  its  subject.  "Were  it  not  for  the  writers,  we  opine  that  the  names 
of  several  indinduals  might  be  missing  from  the  scries  before  us. 
Achilles  is  naught  without  his  Homer.  The  biographer  of  Boone 
has  succeeded  in  kec))ing  himself  out  of  his  work  to  as  great  an  ex- 
tent as  seems  desirable.  A  captious  critic  might  discern,  in  the 
opinions  uniformly  ascribed  to  Boone  with  regard  to  lawyers,  luxu- 
ries, and  fashions,  a  touch  of  the  agrarian  democracy  of  the  author ; 
and  might  perhaps  discover,  from  the  note  at  the  bottom  of  pages  171, 
172,  in  the  expressions  of  the  Catholic  commandant  at  St.  Louis, 
that  Baptists  were  the  ])ioncers  in  Missouri,  and  that  the  writer  in- 
tended a  iut,  more  v>ag.gish  than  malicious,  at  the  harmless  rite 
of  infant  baptism.  The  author  adds  to  proximity  of  time  and 
place,  and  the  requisite  mental  qualifications,  the  advantage  of 
having  been  himself  a  pioneer  in  missionary  labour,  in  editor- 
ship, in  education,  and  moral  enterprise,  in  the  vast  valley  Avhere 
he  has  located  his  romantic  residence,  and  where  he  still  wields  an 
enviable  influence.  Li  common  with  editor  Sparks,  the  editor  of  the 
Illinois  Gazette  deserves  the  acknowledgments  of  the  present  and 


1853.]  Daniel  Boone.  367 

the  future  for  his  endeavours  to  collect  and  put  in  order  a  few  of 
those  sibylline  leaves — already  the  sport  of  heedless  minds — that, 
when  properly  arranged,  prophesy  our  national  greatness.  A  few 
points  of  defect  in  stjde  and  grammar  do  not  greatly  detract  from 
the  general  merits  of  his  works. 

If  Daniel  Boone  was  not  a  remarkable  man,  he  at  least  occupied 
a  remarkable  position.  Upon  whatever  merit  his  fame  may  be  sup- 
posed to  rest,  it  will,  in  the  language  of  Governor  ^Morchead  of  Ken- 
tucky, "  survive  when  the  achievements  of  men  greatly  bis  superiors 
in  rank  and  intellect  will  be  forgotten."  His  name  has  found  an 
endm-ing  place  in  the  annals  of  the  \\'e.-t ;  and  yet  what  title  has  he 
to  rank  among  the  great  men  of  Atlantic  America?  He  was  not  a 
discoverer,  like  Cabot  and  Hudson;  not  an  explorer,  of  the  genius  and 
talents  of  Smith;  not  a  warrior,  like  Lincoln,  Arnold,  or  "mad 
Anthony;"  not  a  statesman,  like  Vane;  a  man  of  science,  like  Rit- 
tenhouse;  or  a  religionist,  like  Brainord,  Eliot,  or  Mather.  He  was 
surrounded  by  men  of  more  enlarged  views,  greater  capacity,  and 
more  liberal  policy  than  himself  Yet  posterity  has  decided  to 
honoiu'  his  name.  And  whyV  Our  biograjjher  has  hit  upon  the 
true  secret,  and  placed  at  the  head  of  his  work  the  most  suitable,  as 
well  as  the  most  attractive,  title  that  could  have  been  put  there: 
"  Daniel  Boone,  the  Pioneer  of  Kentucky."  ]S^ either  a  discoverer, 
nor  explorer,  nor  warrior,  nor  settler,  in  the  exclusive  sense  of  either 
term,— he  is  i\iQ  pioneer,  an  embodim'.'iit  of  all— a  character  as  unique 
as  the  circumstances  under  which  it  is  d-.-vcluped.  He  is  interesting 
to  the  world  and  to  posterity  as  the  rri'vesentativc  of  that  style  of 
humanity  formed  by  the  juxtaposition  of  civilization  and  barbarism. 
He  is  the  Pathfinder  and  Leatherstocking  of  American  romance ;  the 
half-civilized,  half- savage  man,  who  prefers  the  solitary  woods  and 
plenty  of  game  to  the  noise  and  dust  of  towns  and  the  luxury  of 
confined  cities.  Those  who  make  up.  in  their  imaginations,  Indian 
character  of  the  sole  elements  of  n-venge,  treachery,  cruelty,  and 
blood,  naturally  attribute  to  the  pioia-ers  the  same,  or  at  least  a  simi- 
lar nature.  Those  who  alTiliate  the  American  Indian  with  our  com- 
mon humanity,  find  in  his  subtlety  and  aj.parent  blood-thirstiness, 
not  the  man,  the  friend,  the  citizen,  the  devoted  relative,  but  the 
warrior,  educated  to  a  peculiar  systfui  of  tactics,  and  as  true  to  his 
education  as  to  the  instincts  of  his  nature ;  a  system  which,  while  it 
was  more  bloody,  was  perhaps  less  to  be  deprecated  than  civilized 
warfare.  No  fToans  ever  arose  from  an  Indian  battle-field.  The 
friendly  tomahawk  reduced  all  to  silence,  and  saved  the  agonies  of 
hospitals  and  amputations,  life  di.sibilities  and  lingering  dissolu- 
tions.    Savage  warfare  made  few  widows  and  oii>hans.     It  kindly 


368  Daniel  Boone.  [July, 

consigned  mother  and  child  to  the  same  gi-ave  vrith  their  natural 
protectors,  and  only  claimed  as  a  rightful  trophy  a  handful  of  hair 
torn  -with  the  bleeding  scalp  from  the  head  Avhen  no  longer  sensible 
to  agony.  AVith  tiicse  ^var  habits  of  the  aboriginal  American — no 
•worse  than  the  ^var  habits  of  civilization  on  the  -whole — our  pioneers 
rarely  assimilated.  Now  and  then  a  Pimon  Girty  might  bo  found; 
but  Daniel  Boone  Avas  no  Simon  Girty.  Governor  Morehead  says 
he  was  "  unsocial ;"  that  "  he  had  few  of  the  sympathies  that  bind 
men  and  families  together,  and  consecrate  the  relations  of  society;" 
that  "  during  two  whole  ycai-s  he  abandoned  his  family  for  no  other 
purpose  than  to  amuse  himself  in  the  wilderness."  His  biographer, 
on  the  other  hand,  says  that,  "  Far  from  possessing  a  ferocious  tem- 
per, or  exhibiting  dissatisfaction  Avith  the  charms  of  domestic  and 
social  life,  he  was  mild,  humane,  and  charitable :  his  manners  were 
gentle,  his  address  conciliating,  and  his  heart  open  to  friendship  and 
hospitality."  Again  he  says :  "  Boone  was  not  unfeeling,  or  indiffer- 
ent to  the  domestic  relation."  And  again,  that  "he  was  as  mild, 
humane,  and  affectionate,  as  he  was  bold  and  fearless."  To  sub- 
stantiate his  own  oft-repeated  declarations  in  regard  to  the  humanity 
of  Boone,  our  author  quotes  from  Hall's  Sketches: — 

"  We  read  marvellous  stories  of  tlie  ferocity  of  Western  men.  The  name 
Kcntuckian  is  continu.illy  associated  with  the  idea  of  fighting,  drinking,  goug- 
ing- The  people  of  whom  we  are  now  writing  do  not  deserve  this  character. 
Tliey  live  togetlier  in  great  harmony,  with  Utile  contention,  and  loss  litigation. 
The  backwoodsmen  aie  a  generous  and  peaceable  race.  "We  have  no  evidence 
that  the  pioneers  of  Kentucky  wore  quarrelsome  or  cruel.  Bold  and  daring 
■when  op}X)sed  to  an  enemy,  ihey  were  amiable  in  their  intercourse  with  each 
other  and  with  strangers,  and  habitually  inclined  to  peace." 

Hear  our  author : — 

"  The  various  titles  fold  of  the  prejudices  of  Colonel  Boone  against  civilizar 
tion  and  social  enjoynicnls  are  fictitious.  lie  was  not  antisocial  in  his  feel- 
ings and  sympathies.  lie  loved  his  fellow  creatures ;  he  loved  hi.'?  children ; 
he  sympathized  with  sulforing  and  oppressed  humanity,  he  reioiced  in  the 
prosperity  of  others,  provided  they  were  honest,  industrious,  and  virtuous. 
The  indolent  and  vicious  he  ahhorn-d  and  despised.  Yet,  unquestionahlv,  he  ■ 
delighted  in  rural  frontier  life.  limiting  was  a  ruling  passion.  As  soon  as 
the  "frosts  had  killed  the  undergrowth,  and  the  leaves  of  autumn  had  fallen,  and 
the  weather  had  become  rainy,  with  occasional  light  snow,  Boone  bcran  to 
feel  uneasy  at  home.  The  ])assion  for  hunting  had  become  excited :  ever^-- 
thing  was  unpleasant.  The  house  was  too  warm,  the  bed  too  soft,  and  even 
the  good  wife  not  the  most  desirable  companion.  The  chase  occupied  the 
thoughts  of  the  hunter  by  day  and  his  dreams  by  nighL" — Pp.  149,  loO. 

After  describing  his  backwoods  education,  his  biographer  accords 
to  him  other  than  scholastic  attainments  in  the  following  lan- 
guage :— 


1853.]  Daniel  Boone.  369 

"  No  Indian  could  poise  the  rifle,  find  his  way  throucjh  the  pathless  forests, 
or  search  out  the  retreats  of  game,  more  readily  than  Daniel  Boone.  In  all 
that  related  to  Indian  sagacity,  border  lite,  or  the  t^ietics  of  a  skilful  hunter, 
he  excelled." — P.  15. 

In  the  summer  of  1770,  he  ^Yas  tlirec  Avliole  months  alone  in  the 
vast  wilderness,  -without  bread,  salt,  or  sn^ar;  without  the  society 
of  even  horse  or  dog;  a  position  in  which  he  himself  says,  he  was 
"  never  before  under  greater  neces.^ity  of  exercising  philosophy  or 
fortitude." 

As  the  country  began  to  groAV  populous,  Boone  was  of  essential 
service  to  the  settlers : — 

"  Concerning  '  Indian  signs  *  he  was  an  oracle.  Sometimes,  with  one  or  two 
trusty  companions,  but  more  frequently  alone,  as  night  dosed  in,  he  would 
steal  awa}'  noiselessly  into  the  woods,  to  reciMuioitre  the  surrounding  wilderness, 
and  in  the  day  time  stealthily  wouM  he  creep  along,  with  his  trusty  rifle  rest- 
ing on  his  arm,  ready  lor  the  least  sign  of  danger — his  keen,  piercing  eyes 
glancing  into  every  thicket  and  canebrako,  or  watching  intently  for  '  signs' 
of  the  wily  enemy." — P.  69. 

Several  times  the  prisoner  of  the  Indians,  he  had  opportunity  to 
measure  coolness  and  cunning  with  the  coolest  and  cunningost  race 
on  the  face  of  the  earth.  Boone  was  as  cool  as  he  was  courageous. 
None  ought  to  have  known  so  well  as  those  who  lived  in  those  days, 
that  Lidian  warfare  requires  the  utmost  vigilance  and  caution;  and 
yet  the  fool-hardy  experiment  of  liraddock,  rushing  upon  ambus- 
cade contrary  to  tlie  advice  of  the  voiuig  Virginia  colonel,  so  often 
repeated  in  the  wars  with  the  Indian  tribes,  was  tried  to  the  soitow, 
defeat,  and  shame  of  nearly  five  hundred  brave  Kentuckians,  whose 
officers,  particularly  Major  M'Gnry,  aflected  to  despise  as  cowardly, 
the  cool  caution  and  wary  prudence  which  Boone  counselled  and 
exhibited  Avhen  in  the  neighbourhood  of  a  treacherous  foe.  Our 
author  philosophizes : — 

"  True  courage  consists  not  in  rash  and  bnital  force,  but  in  tliat  command 
of  the  passions  by  which  the  judgment  is  enabled  to  act  with  promptitude  and 
decision  in  any  emergency.  J>y  such  rash  men  as  Major  i^l'Gary,  Colonel 
Boone  was  charged  with  want  of  courage,  win  u  tho  result  proved  his  superior 
wisdom  and  foresight.  All  the  totimuiiy  gives  Boone  credit  for  his  sagacity 
and  correctness  in  judgment  before  the  action,  and  for  his  coolness  and  self- 
possession  in  covering  the  retreat." — P.  J;K). 

We  have  alluded  to  the  mercilossness  with  which  Boone's  scepti- 
cal biographer  has  swept  away  the  numerous  fictions  incorporated 
in  former  lives,  such  as  "  shining  the  eyes  "  of  Bebecca  Bryan,  sub- 
sequently his  spouse,  in  which  the  ronuxnce  turns  upon  the  conceit 
of  his  having  narrowly  escaped  mistaking  the  eyes  of  his  defir  for 
those  of  a  dee/- !  The  tragic  dffiiiition  of  Kain-tuck-ce,  [a  favour- 
ite pronunciation  of  the  word  in  the  ^Vest  to  this  day,]  "  dark  and 


370  Daniel  Boone.  [July, 

bloody  ground,"  he  exchanges  for  the  decidedly  harmless  one,  "head 
of  the  river  !"  The  romantic  definition  of  Mississippi,  "  father  of 
vratcrs,"  he  simplifies  to  "  great  water."  The  tradition  that  Stewart, 
one  of  his  hunting  companions,  was  devoured  by  wolves,  he  rejects. 
"The  wolves  of  the  Western  forests  rarely  attack  and  kill  a  man. 
They  are  bountifully  supplied  with  game." — P.  31,  note.  We  are 
glad  to  see  preserved  as  authejitic,  and  vouched  by  the  old  pioneer 
himself,  the  "  tobacco  anecdote,"  so  singularly  illustrative  of  his 
coolness  and  the  fruittulness  of  his  inventive  powers  in  the  midst  of 
the  most  threatening  dangers.     We  condense  it  from  the  Life: — 

.  "  On'one  occasion,  nbnat  this  period,  1783,  four  Indians  came  to  the  farm 
of  Colonel  Boone,  and  nearly  succeeded  in  taking  him  prisoner.  At  a  short 
distance  fron\  his  caliin,  lie  had  raised  a  small  patch  of  tobacco.  As  a  shelter 
for  curing  it.  he  had  built  an  enclosure  of  rails,  a  dozen  feet  in  height,  and 
covered  it  with  cane  and  grass.  Stalks  of  tobacco  are  usuallv  split  and  strun"^ 
on  sticks,  four  feet  in  length.  The  ends  of  these  are  laid"  on  poles,  placed 
across  the  tobacco  house  in  tiers,  one  above  another,  to  the  roof.  Loone  had 
fixed  his  temporary  shelter  in  such  a  manner  as  to  have  throe  tiers.  The 
tobacco  on  the  lower  tier  becoming  dry,  he  had  hoisted  the  sticks  from  the 
lower  to  the  second  tier,  and  was  standing  on  the  poles  that  supported  it  -while 
raising  the  sticks  to  the  u].j)cr  tier,  when  four  stout  Indians,  with  guns,  entered 
the  low  door,  and  calh'd  him  by  name :  '  Now,  Boone,  we  got  you.  You  no  f^et 
away  more.  We  carry  you  oil'  to  Chillicothe  this  time.  You  no  cheat  us  any 
more.'  Boone  looked  down  upon  their  upturned  faces,  saw  their  loaded  "uns 
pointed  at  his  breast,  and  recognising  some  of  his  old  friends,  the  Shawanose, 
•who  had  made  him  prisoner  in  17  78,  coolly  and  pleasantly  replied:  '  Ah!  old 
friends  — glad  to  see  you :'  told  them  he  was  willing  to  go  with  them,  and  only 
begi:cd  that  they  would  w.iit  wh.-re  they  were  and  watch  him  closely  until  he 
could  flni^h  removing  his  toliacco.  AVhile  parleying  with  them,  inquiring  after 
old  acquaintances,  and  proposing  to  give  them  his  tobacco  when  cured,  he 
diverted  their  attention  from  his  purpose  until  he  had  collected  together  a 
number  of  sticks  of  dry  tobacco,  and  so  turned  them  as  to  fall  between  the 
poles  directly  in  their  faces.  At  the  same  instant  he  jumped  upon  them  with 
as  much  of  the  dry  tobacco  as  he  could  gather  in  his  arms,  tillinc  their  mouths 
and  eyes  with  its  pungent  ilnst.  and  blinding  and  disabling  them  from  follow- 
ing him — rushed  out  and  hastened  to  his  cabin.  After  retreatinrr  some  fifteen 
or  twenty  yards,  he  looked  around  to  see  the  success  of  his  achievement.  The 
Indians,  blinded  and  nearly  sullmated,  were  stretching  out  their  hands,  and 
feeling  about  in  all  directions,  calling  him  by  name,  and  cursing  him  for  a 
rogue  and  themselves  ilir  fools." — Pp.  142,  14a,  144. 

Jt  has  not  escaped  the  attention  of  the  author  of  the  Life  of  Boone, 
that  the  year  1775,  one  of  those  over  which  his  narrative  extends,  is 
deserving  of  peculiar  notice  as  the  period  of  the  commencement  of 
the  revolution ;  and  he  thus  moralizes  upon  the  point : — 

"  It  is  certainly  singular,  that  at  the  time  of  the  outbreak  of  the  revolutionarj' 
•war,  when  it  would  seem  that  every  arm  able  to  strike  a  blow  was  specially 
needed  for  the  deleuee  of  the  Atlantic  colonies,  the  colonization  of  the  vast 
region  on  the  waters  of  the  Mississippi  should  have  commenced.  Surely,  wis- 
dom and  strength  beyond  that  of  men  were  concerned  in  the  enterprise  at 
such  an  eventlul  crisis." — Y.  52. 


1853.]  Daniel  Boone.  371 

It  naturally  occurs  to  us  to  inquire  -whethor  Boone  -would  have 
been  equally  distinguished  had  he  remained  at  his  home  upon 
the  banks  of  the  Yadkin,  until  the  war  of  independence  should 
have  given  him  opportunity  to  share  the  fortunes  of  that  eventful 
and  protracted  struggle  ?  We  see  no  reason  why,  -with  the  powers 
he  possessed,  he  might  not  have  been  a  Putnam  or  a  A\  ayne ; 
why  he  might  not  have  given  sober  and  discreet  counsels,  and 
gained  laurels  in  fields  where  so  nuich  depended  upon  skill  in 
managing  retreats  and  saving  our  own,  and  so  little  upon  facing  an 
enemy  vastly  superior  in  numbers,  and  arrogating  all  the  advantages 
of  military  skill  and  military  supplies,  i^o  many  men,  however,  of 
shining  talents  were  found  in  this  field,  that  it  is  a  serious  question, 
whether,  if  Boone  had  not  gone  to  the  wilds  of  Kentucky,  his  name 
would  ever  have  found  a  place  in  the  annals  of  American  Biography. 
As  it  is.  his  memory  will  descend  to  jioslerity,  associated  with 
everything  that  is  romantic  and  beautiful  in  wild  unbroken  nature, 
in  her  own  undisturbed,  magnificent  retreats;  connected  with  all 
that  is  daring  and  skilful  in  the  life  of  a  hunter  and  brave ;  and  alUed 
to  everything  that  is  fearful  and  tragic  in  Indian  tactics,  war-whoops, 
council-fires,  gauntlets,  scalpings,  burning.-^,  and  blood.  Boone  en- 
dured no  more,  accomplished  no  more,  than  scores  of  his  contem- 
poraries and  successors;  but  there  is  everything  in  being  the  first 
man,  especially  the  first  representative  of  a  cbaracter  destined  to  fill 
so  large  a  space  in  the  settlement  and  drfi'uce  of  a  rising  empire. 
His  claims  to  consideration  were  aoknowk-dgod  both  by  the  legisla- 
ture of  Kentucky  and  the  congress  of  the  L'nited  JStates,  in  the  con- 
firmation of  titles  to  Spanish  lands,  whcrrby  his  old  age  was  made 
affluent  and  happy :  and  at  his  death  the  legislature  of  Missouri, 
then  in  session,  honoured  his  memory  by  adji.uruing  for  a  day,  and 
wearing  the  usual  badge  of  mourning  fur  thii-ty  days. 

Boone  looked  upon  himself  as  "an  in.^trumcnt  ordained  to  settle 
the  wilderness."  At  what  period  these  common  impressions  take 
possession  of  the  minds  of  men,  whether  in  the  outset  of  their  career, 
or  after  success  has  indicated  them  to  their  fellows  as  remarkable 
men  in  the  history  of  their  times,  it  is  inij»ussible  to  say.  Governor 
Morehead  gives  Boone  credit  for  no  early  conception  of  this  sublime 
idea.  He  thinks  "he  came  to  the  wiltleniess.  not  to  settle  and  sub- 
due it,  but  to  gratify  an  inordinate  passinn  for  adventure  and  disco- 
very, to  hunt  deer  and  buffalo,  to  roam  through  the  woods  and  admire 
the  beauties  of  nature ;  in  a  word,  to  injoy  the  lovely  pastimes  of  a 
hunter's  life,  remote  from  his  fellow  nifu."  Boone  had  a  true  Indian 
regard  for  his  plare  of  burial.  After  keeping  his  coffin  in  readiness 
for  years,  he  was  finally  laid  beside  his  wife  on  a  chosen  spot,  "over- 


372  Daniel  Boone.  •  [July, 

looking  the  turbid  Missouri. "  It  is  an  interesting  fact,  that  the 
remains  of  both  now  repose  in  the  vicinity  of  Frankfort,  Kentucky. 
It  was  fitting  that  the  miglity  Nimrod  of  the  West  should  lie  amid 
those  scenes  of  delight  winch  feasted  his  eyes  when  he  first  gazed 
upon  those  swelling  oceans  of  forest  verdure  from  the  summits  of 
mountain  ranges.  It  was  fitting  that  gentle  Rebecca  I3ryan,  the  first 
white  woman  whose  feet  ever  pressed  the  banks  of  the  beautiful 
Kentucky,  should  shunber  upon  its  borders.  It  was  a  noiseless 
transition,  compared  with  that  in  which,  at  a  later  period,  the  ashes 
of  the  conqueror  of  Europe  burst  from  their  island  prison-tomb  and 
laid  their  plebeian  length  beside  the  monarch  chivalry  of  Gaul  I  It 
was  scarcely  less  sublime.  There  is  something  inspiring  in  tlie 
idea  of  slumbering  till  the  judgment  in  close  proximity  with  the 
mighty  dead !  Westminster  Abbey,  the  urn  of  the  ashes  of  English 
gi-eatness,  commends  it.solf  as  a  desirable  resting-place.  Yet,  with 
the  true  American,  it  should  bear  no  comparison  Avith  repose  in  soil 
hallowed  by  the  presence  of  that  prince  of  discoverers,  the  great 
Colum.bus !  It  is  a  touching  fact,  and  yet  one  not  generally  known, 
that  the  cis- Atlantic  soil,  the  soil  of  our  own  birth  and  burial,  is  the 
tomb  of  the  ashes  of  its  great  navigator.  Kentucky  did  herself 
honour  in  covering  the  relics  of  her  departed  "  pioneer  "  with  the 
soil  he  explored  and  aided  to  defend. 

The  life  of  Boone  is  not  the  property  of  Kentucky  or  the  West — 
it  belongs  to  his  country ;  and  although,  like  other  lives,  it  is  mainly 
one  of  local  adventure  and  incident,  it  finds  its  appropriate  place  in 
the  Library  of  Amehicw  Biography.  It  has  long  been  before  the 
public,  and  has  become  indeed  a  part  of  the  history  of  Kentucky  and 
the  Union.  The  present  author  has  rendered  essential  service  in 
pruning  it  of  fictions,  and  presenting  it  to  the  world— a  work,  among 
whose  various  attractions  not  the  least  in  rank  and  importance  is  its 
reliableness. 


1853.]  Socrates.  373 


Am.  IV.— SOCRATES. 

1.  The  Works  of  Plato.  A  new  and  literal  version,  chiefly  from  the  text  of 
Stallbaum.  Vols.  I-V.  London  :  Henry  G.  B-jhu.    Classical  Library.  lS-tS-lS.52. 

2.  The  Memorable  Things  of  Socrates.  'Wriitea  by  Xenophon,  in  five  books. 
Translated  into  English.  To  which  id  prefixed  the  Life  of  Xenophon.  Collected 
from  several  authors,  together  -with  some  account  of  his  writings.  Loudon. 
Printed  for  George  Sawbridge  at  the  Three  Golden  Flower  d'lys  in  Little 
Britian.     1712. 

3.  The  Life  of  Socrates.  By  M.  Charpenticr.  Translated  into  English.  London, 
1712. 

4.  .4  Life  of  Socrates.  By  Dr.  G.  Wiggcrs.  Translated  from  the.  German,  with 
Notes.     London,  1840. 

6.  Thirlwall's  History  of  Greece.  Vol.1.  New- York :  Harper  &  Brothers.  18^5. 
6.  History  of  Greece.     By  George  Grote,  Esq.     Vol.  VIIL     Boston,  18.52. 

There  are  some  lives  that  seem  never  to  lose  their  interest  to  the 
human  race  bj  the  lapse  of  time.  k^prin;:;ing  as  they  do  from  the 
great  heart  of  human  things,  and  embodying  elements  of  unchange- 
able value,  they  never  cease  to  awake  an  answering  throb  of  sympathy 
in  the  soul  of  man.  There  is,  after  all,  a  deep  identity  o'i  nature 
that  links  the  whole  race  in  bonds  of  brotherhood,  so  that  when  we 
understand  our  common  nature  in  one  of  its  developments,  we  under- 
stand it  better  in  all  the  rest,  and  when  wc  meet  one  of  its  largest 
and  best  types,  we  are  drawn  to  its  study  by  an  irresistible  interest. 
Such  a  nature  is  that  of  Socrates.  Tiie  history  of  its  development 
has  arrested  the  admiring  study  of  in<»rc  than  twenty  centuries,  and 
yet  possesses  an  c.xhaustless  interest  that  is  as  fresh  to  us  as  it  was 
to  the  most  reverent  Academic  that  ever  cherished  the  memory  of 
his  great  master.  On  these  general  grounds,  therefore,  it  were  well 
to  refresh  our  memories,  and  extend  our  knowledge  in  regard  to  one 
so  well  worth  our  study.  But  as  Ciu-istians,  there  are  peculiar 
reasons  for  this  task,  as  will  probably  aj.pear  in  the  sequel.  There 
is  no  heathen  life  that  contains  so  many  elements  of  interest  to  us 
as  that  of  Socrates,  for  none  came  so  near  what  Ciiristianitv  requires, 
none  furnished  such  a  model  of  conduct  to  instruct  and  reprove 
those  who  have  a  better  and  surer  word  of  prophecy,  and  none 
showed  so  clearly  how^  much  man  at  his  highest  development  needs 
a  light  from  heaven.  The  recent  investigations  of  Mr.  Grote  have 
thrown  new  light  on  certain  questions  connected  with  the  life  hi 
Socrates,  and  rendered  a  revision  of  it  the  more  necessary.  With- 
out then  undertaking  to  discuss  all  the  points  of  his  history,  or  to 
consider  his  character  as  a  philosopher,  or  the  extent  of  his  contribu- 
tions to  the  metaphysical  capital  of  the  race,  we  propose  simply  to 


374  Soa-ates.  [July, 

present  some  of  those  aspects  of  his  life  and  character  that  a  cursory 
examination  of  the  original  sources  of  his  history  has  impressed 
upon  our  minds. 

Socrates,  son  of  Sophroniscus,  a  statuary,  and  PhKnerete,  a  mid- 
Tvife,  was  born  on  the  Gth  of  the  month  Thargelion,  in  the  4th  year 
of  the  77th  Olympiad,  about  the  IGth  of  May,  B.  C.  46S.  Athens 
having  incorporated  many  of  the  adjacent  tribes  into  its  municipality, 
it  was  customary  to  designate  this  fact  in  describing  an  individual 
in  any  legal  document.  Socrates  in  such  a  reckoning  was  of  the 
borough  of  Alopece,  and  belonged  to  the  tribe  Antiochis.  Of  his 
early  life  we  know  but  little,  except  some  rumours  of  filial  insub- 
ordination, wliich,  although  reaching  us  through  a  hostile  channel, 
are  not  wholly  out  of  keeping  with  the  gnarled  texture  of  his  natural 
character.  He  learned  the  trade  of  his  father,  and  it  is  even  said 
that  some  products  of  his  chisel  were  allowed  to  adorn  the  Acropolis. 
At  the  age  of  seventeen  he  placed  himself  under  the  tuition  of  Arche- 
laus,  a  disciple  of  the  sceptical  Ana.xagoras,  and  applied  himself  to  the 
study  of  natural  science.  But  this,  among  the  Greeks  at  this  time. 
was  wholly  a  different  thing  from  that  noble  and  massive  product 
of  observation  and  induction  that  we  know  by  this  name.  It  con- 
sisted of  a  few  meagi-c  and  undigested  observations  of  natural 
phenomena,  smothered  over  with  a  mass  of  puerile  frivolities  and 
anile  conceits,  that  soon  disgusted  such  a  mind  as  that  of  Socrates, 
and  led  him  to  turn  from  such  shadowy  speculations  to  subjects 
more  practical  and  intelligible.  It  seems  difficult  at  this  day,  when 
physical  science  is  so  much  more  practical  than  metaphysical,  to 
conceive  how  their  positions  could  have  ever  been  reversed;  and  yet 
it  is  obvious  that  mere  theorizings  about  the  heavenly  bodies,  the 
elements,  the  origin  of  the  gnds  and  men,  and  similar  themes,  were 
barren  figments,  incapable  of  verification,  or  of  application  to  the 
things  of  common  life;  whilst  an  examination  into  the  principles  of 
human  action,  where  there  was  no  revealed  rule  of  faith  and  practice, 
was  as  obviously  susceptible  of  the  most  valuable  use.  Hence  he 
totally  abandoned  natural  science,  as  a  field  incapable  of  exploration, 
and  turned  his  attention  to  that  which  Avas  most  patent  to  his  observa- 
tion, the  science  of  right  knowing  and  right  living,  or  ethics  in  its 
largest  application  to  the  powers  of  the  human  soul  and  the 
things  of  common  life. 

"The  period  of  Athenian  histoi-y,  in  which  Socrates  lived,  was 
remarkable  on  some  accounts,  and  tended  to  give  caste  to  his  character. 
It  w:)S  a  ])eriod  of  great  national  glory,  without  boini:  preeminently 
a  period  of  great  men.  Marathon.  Thermopyl;Tc,  and  Salamis  had 
placed  Athens  in  envied  supremacy,   as  tVio  du'-en  of  the  world. 


1853.3  Socrates.  375 

But  most  of  the  mighty  spirits  %vhose  heroism  and  genius  had  won 
these  triumphs  were  gone.  MiUiades  and  Theinistocles  had  passed 
away,  and  the  year  that  gave  Socrates  birth  recorded  the  death  of 
Aristides  and  the  first  poetical  triumph  of  Sophocles.  The  grand 
old  iEschylus,  whose  lofty  spirit  delighted  to  revel  in  scenes  of 
terrible  sublimity,  was  bending  with  ago,  while  the  pure-hearted 
Sophocles,  and  the  polished  Euripides,  were  gradually  losing  their 
hold  on  the  popular  mind,  and  their  stately  tragedies  giving  place 
to  the  buffooneries  of  Kratinus  and  the  lampoons  of  Aristophanes. 
Pericles,  the  polished  and  peerless  monarch  of  this  proud  democracy, 
had  flung  around  Athens  some  of  the  splendour  of  his  own  great 
genius ;  hut  he' had  also  planted  in  it  some  of  its  elements  of  decay. 
He  crowned  the  Acropolis  with  the  marble  miracles  of  the  Parthenon 
and  the  Propyhx>a,  adorned  them  with  the  splendid  taste  of  a  Phidias, 
and  fired  the  people  with  an  indomitable  tenacity  of  purpose  that 
preserved  them  from  overthrow  in  after  times  of  peril.  But  he  also 
breathed  into  them  a  more  restless  sjiirit  of  pride,  a  more  grasping 
spirit  of  rapacity,  and  a  "  manifest  destiny  "  .spirit  of  covetous  gi-eed ; 
and  by  giving  entrance  money  for  the  tht-atre  and  pay  for  the  public 
assemblies  from  the  treasury,  ho  cstablisjie.d  a  system  that  in  the 
end  corrupted  the  people  and  impoverished  the  state.  But  the 
immediate  effect  of  his  mcasm-es  was  to  give  a  prodigious  activity 
to  the  general  intellect  of  Athens.  The  gains  of  conquest  having 
relieved  the  mass  of  the  peo]M<'  from  the  need  of  daily  labour  for 
their  daily  bread,  they  had  Kisure  to  meet  in  the  legislative  and 
judicial  assemblies  of  the  state,  or  mingle  with  the  crowds  that 
thronged  the  porticoes  and  ])ublic  walks  of  that  beautiful  city.  These 
daily  meetings  brought  mind  into  cliision  with  mind,  and  gave  a 
quickness,  spring,  and  acumen  to  the  Athenian  intellect  that  was  im- 
paralleled.  That  restless  activity  of  mind,  which  in  modem  free 
states  is  expended  in  commerce,  and  the  industrial  pursuits  of  life, 
hy  ^he  peculiar  arrangements  of  Athenian  society,  in  which  there  was 
neither  scope  nor  necessity  for  such  efforts  on  an  extended  scale. 
was  turned  to  the  discussion  of  questions  of  jiolitieal  and  metaphysical 
philosophy.  This  gave  an  amazing  impulse  to  the  Athenian  intellect, 
and  created  the  circumstances  in  which  th<'  mind  of  Socrates  received 
its  earliest  training.  Day  by  day  woul.l  the  young  sculptor,  with 
his  broad  shoulders,  his  clear  gating  eyes,  and  his  keen  intellect, 
mingle  with  these  crowds,  listen  to  their  discussions,  ponder  their 
opinions,  and,  as  occasion  serveil.  join  in  these  colloquial  combats 
with  all  the  zest  of  an  eager  disputant. 

But  there  was  another  peculinrity  in  Athenian  society  that  also 
acted  powerfully  on  the  development  of  its  intellect.     All  the  move- 


376  Socrates.  [July, 

ments  of  state,  and  most  of  the  judicial  causes,  were  decided  in 
public  assemblies.  In  these  every  man  -was  expected  to  plead  his 
own  cause.  Now  as  a  man's  property,  influence,  reputation,  and 
even  life,  often  depended  on  his  ability  to  convince  a  popular  assembly, 
the  art  of  doing  so  was  naturally  very  desirable.  This  gave  rise  to 
a  class  of  teachers  who  professed  to  prepare  men  to  argue  with 
triumphant  success  on  any  subject  whatever.  As  adroitness  in  this 
kind  of  intellectual  sworJplay  was  greatly  admired,  and  often  highly 
advantageous,  it  would  be  sought  with  great  avidity,  and  at  any  cost. 
The  men  who  professed  to  teach  it  would  naturally  become  a  set  of 
mere  word- wranglers,  intellectual  Swiss  mercenaries,  pretending  to 
knowledge  on  every  subject,  indifferent  to  truth  on  any,  and  stuffed 
•with  the  pride  of  mere  pretension.  Hence,  by  a  natural  process, 
the  Sophists  became  a  class  of  boasters,  sciolists,  and  sceptics,  un- 
settling all  solid  foundations  of  opinion,  that  they  might  prepare  the 
way  for  maintaining  any  opinion,  inventing  a  set  of  logical  puzzles 
and  juggleries  that  confounded,  if  they  did  not  convince  the  multitude, 
and  b}'  making  men  e([ua]ly  prepared  to  defend  truth  and  falsehood, 
they  made  them  equally  indifferent  to  both. 

Mr.  Grote's  vindication  of  the  Sophists  is  one  of  the  most  interest- 
ing portions  of  his  valuable  work,  and  shows  clearly  that  odium  has 
unjustly  been  heaped  upon  them ;  but  after  all  it  is,  in  some  respects, 
only  a  very  ingenious  specimen  of  special  pleading.  His  plea  for 
them,  that  they  were  sim}>ly  the  professors  of  that  day,  teaching  the 
prevalent  forms  of  science,  whilst  it  exempts  them  from  the  charo-e 
of  peculiar  depravity,  by  no  means  clears  them  from  the  charge  of 
injuring  the  tone  of  the  public  mind.  It  was  precisely  because  they 
did  teach  the  prevalent  philosophy,  instead  of  something  better, 
and  because  they  sought  to  make  men  expert  logical  swordsmen, 
able  to  defend  themselves  from  any  charge  however  true,  rather 
than  to  lead  them  to  know  and  love  the  truth,  that  their  influence 
was  so  pernicious.  AVhen  men  are  prepared  to  defend  indifferently 
truth  and  falsehood,  they  become  equally  indifferent  to  both,  and  from 
indifference  to  truth  the  transition  is  easy  and  certain  to  the  blankest 
scepticism.  Moreover,  the  ability  to  defend  any  proposition  is  in- 
compatible with  genuine  knowledge,  and  can  only  exist  in  a  mind 
whose  knowledge  is  superficial  and  verbal,  and  which  has  never 
penetrated  to  the  essential  vei-itles  of  things.  The  word-knowledge 
and  logical  dexterity,  taught  by  the  Sophists,  would  naturall}',  there- 
fore, tend  to  pufftheirpupils  with  a  conceit  of  knoAvledge  that  concealed 
even  from  themselves  a  real  ignorance.  Hence,  whilst  it  was  true 
that  the  celebrated  Sophists,  who  taught  in  Athens,  prepared  their 
pupils  to  act  their  part  in  the  restless  life  of  that  turbulent  democracy, 


1853.]  Socrates.  377 

it  is  also  ^ue  that  it  -was  at  the  expense  of  that  love  of  truth, 
and  that  modesty  of  true  science,  Avithout  -svhich  the  active  intellect 
of  this  mercurial  people  would  soon  effervesce  into  mere  frivolity 
and  -weakness. 

Such  was  the  state  of  things  in  Atliciis  when  Socrates  was  forming 
his  character.  The  republic  was  haughty,  powerful,  and  magnificent, 
yet  cherishing  elements  of  inevitable  decay.  Her  fevered  activity 
■was  in  part  a  factitious  energy,  a  hectic  glow  that  was  a  symptom 
of  disease  rather  than  a  token  of  health.  Pericles,  after  breathing 
some  of  his  own  lofty  spirit  into  the  peoj)le,  and  leading  them  into 
the  Peloponnesian  war,  lay  down,  amid  the  terrible  scenes  of  the 
plague,  with  a  heavy  heart,  to  die,  and  left  his  darling  city  to  feebler 
and  meaner  hands.  No  great  intellects  were  left  to  seize  the  reins 
that  dropped  from  his  hands,  and  the  state  was  left  to  the  action  of 
the  elements  of  decay  already  planted  in  her  bosom.  In  this  heaving 
rush  of  social  life  Socrates  daily  mingled,  and  saw  clearly  its  radical 
defects.  He  saw  that  the  prevalent  teachings  of  those  who  directed 
the  public  opinion  of  Athens  were  eating  but  its  heart,  and  must 
end  in  inevitable  decay  and  dissolution. 

Had  Socrates  been  an  ordinary  man,  he  would  have  yielded  to  the 
powerful  tide  that  swept  along  the  clianncls  of  Athenian  life,  and 
been  ranked  with  the  other  names  that  appear  in  Grecian  history. 
But  his  was  no  ordinary  nature.  With  a  body  of  incredible  endurance 
and  strength,  he  had  a  mind  equally  uKuk-d  by  strong,  clear  common 
sense,  and  power  of  logical  analysis.  Tiu'.NO  analytical  powers  were 
cultivated  partly  by  the  schouls,  and  j>artly  by  solitnrs'  reflection, 
but  mainly  by  those  keen  colloquial  combats  that  formed  so  marked 
a  peculiarity  of  Athenian  life.  l>y  these  agencies  his  power  of 
tracing  a  thought  through  every  doulding  of  sopliistiy  was  developed 
until  it  became  like  the  eye  of  the  hunter,  who  fullows  bis  trail  with 
unerring  accuracy  where  others  would  see  nothing  but  pathless  con- 
fusion. But  his  most  remarkable  traits  were  those  of  his  moral 
nature.  Other  men  had  nobler  impulsrs,  and  wanner  affections, 
what  is  commonly  called  a  better  heart ;  but  no  man  ever  lived  who 
had  a  larger  development  of  natunil  conscience.  This  was,  indeed, 
the  master  faculty  of  his  soul.  Cb'ar  perceptions  of  iXxc  right  and 
the  true,  and  proper  feelings  in  regard  to  them,  furnish  the  key  to 
the  character  and  history  of  Socrates,  lb-re  we  find  the  secret  of 
his  revolt  against  the  pliilosophy  of  the  day  and  the  teachings  of 
the  Sophists.  The  whole  tendency  of  philo.-^opbieal  speculation  at 
that  time  was  sceptical  and  irreligiou'^.  and  against  this  the  fine 
moral  nature  of  Socrates  rose  up*in  ouiphatic  protest.  He  hated 
■wrong,   falsehood,   and    unreality,    whficver   he    found    them,   but 

Fourth  Series.  Vol.  V.— i24 


378  Socrates.  [July, 

especially  among  the  leaders  of  the  public  mind ;  and  his  conscience 
recoiled  with  disgust  from  the  insincerity,  indifference  to  truth,  and 
sham  pretension  of  the  Soi^hists.  Hence  he  ^vas  by  nature  a 
reformer,  and,  like  every  otlicr  true  reformer,  the  deepest,  broadest, 
richest  subsoil  of  his  nature  was  religious,  and  from  this  massive 
substructure  of  his  chai-acter  all  the  rest  drew  their  vitality  and 
strength.  Here  we  find  the  clement  that  lifts  him  above  all  other 
Greeks,  and  most  other  men.  Aristides  before  him  had  a  fine  moral 
development,  but  lacked  that  fervent  enthusiasm  of  the  religious 
emotions  that  lay  warm  and  deep  in  the  heart  of  Socrates,  gi\"ing 
vigour  to  all  the  outgrowths  of  his  life.  Aristotle  after  hira  had 
more  subtlety,  more  searching  power  of  logical  analysis,  but  lacked 
this  primary  formation  of  every  truly  great  nature ;  for  as  the  tallest 
mountains  always  la}'  bare  at  their  summits  the  deepest  rocks  that 
underlie  the  crust  of  the  earth,  so  the  loftiest  natures  of  our  race 
ever  Uft  up  toward  heaven  those  deep  granitic  elements  of  the 
religious- nature  which  lie  nearest  to  the  great,  glowing  heart  of  the 
world.  Socrates  had  faith,,  and  hence  he  had  power.  Indeed,  the 
fact  that  has  impressed  us  more  than  any  other  in  his  character, 
was  his  amazing  spirituality,  using  the  term  to  designate  that  pre- 
dominance of  the  unseen  and  the  eternal  in  their  influence  over  the 
Boul  that  is  not  necessarily  confined  to  the  form  in  which  we  find  it 
among  Christians.  Isever  was  there  an  uninspired  man,  perhaps, 
who  acted  more  constantly  in  view  of  the  right,  the  true,  and  the 
divine,  and  whose  nature  v,a3  less  enthralled  by  the  .visible,  the 
temporal,  and  the  sensible.  Such  then  were  the  natural  elements 
of  this  extraordinary  character — conscience,  and  common  sense,  to 
a  wonderful  degree ;  and  .such  the  influences  acting  upon  them — a 
form  of  social  life  that  sharpened  the  intellectual  element  to  an 
amazing  acuteness,  dexterity,  and  power,  and  a  tone  of  thought  and 
action  that  roused  the  moral  element  into  indignant  and  powerful 
protest. 

At  what  age  Socrates  began  his  labours  as  a  public  teacher  is 
not  entirely  certain ;  but  it  was  probably  about  the  age  of  thirty, 
when  mind  and  body  had  reached  their  most  perfect  developm.eut. 
The  causes  that  led  to  this  course  of  life  are  apparent  from  the 
preceding  statements.  Like  the  earnest  monk  of  Erfiirth,  who  found 
the  problem  of  the  llefornuition  in  the  struggles  of  his  own  great 
heart,  this  Luther  of  Athens  found  in  que^tloning  his  own  soul  the 
secret  of  social  reform,  and  seeing  the  corruption  that  false  teachers 
were  spreading,  he  set  himself  steadily  to  efll-ct  a  reform.  Like  every 
other  great  reformer,  he  deemed  himself  summoned  to  this  work  by 
a  divine  call,  and  kindled  his  soul  at  the  fire  of  the  altar.     The 


1853.]  Socrates.  379 

Delphic  oracle  -was,  to  the  devout  Greek,  a  veritable  expounder  of 
the  -vvili  of  Heaven,  and  hence  regarded  ^yith  religious  reverence. 
Whatever  was  its  real  character,  it  was  the  visible  representation  of 
the  divine  will,  and  hence  concentrated  on  itself  the  religious  emotions 
of  the  Greeks.  Its  "heaven- descended"  know  </i//sf// fastened  on 
the  mind  of  Socrates,  and  led  him  to  that  searching  self- scrutiny, 
and  that  exhaustive  analysis  of  liis  opinions  and  grounds  of  belief, 
that  made  him  the  Bacon  of  Grecian  philosopliy.  In  these  intense 
processes  of  solitary  thought  he  acquired  that  wonderful  power  of 
abstraction  that  makes  creelible  tlie  story  that  in  the  Potidaian  ex- 
pedition he  was  once,  seen  standing  from  sunrise  to  sunrise  the 
following  day,  in  the  same  posture,  absorbed  in  profound  meditation ; 
and  that  enabled  him,  in  all  the  confusion  of  a  noisy  crowd,  to  pursue 
a  thought  with  an  undeviating  tenacity  that  was  never  baffled. 
Acquiring  thus  a  clear  sense  of  the  defects  of  the  prevalent  forms 
of  thought,  a  nature  like  liis  would  be  desirous  of  attempting  to 
correct  them.  But  we  have  reason  to  believe  that  he  had  more  direct 
and  specific  impulses  than  these. 

His  friend  Chrerephon  applied  to  the  Delphic  oracle  to  know  who 
was  the  wisest  of  the  Greeks,  and  received  the  response :  "  Sophocles 
is  wise,  Euripides  is  wiser,  but  the  wisest  of  all  men  is  Socrates." 
This  utterance  of  the  oracle,  which  wo  have  no  reason  to  suppose 
was  unfairl}'  obtained,  caused  Socrates  to  suspect  that  he  had  a 
divine  mission  to  fulfil  to  Iii.s  people.  He  began  to  feel  that  he  was 
called  to  be  a  prophet  and  a  mission-iry,  s<.'nt  forth  to  recall  the 
wayward  and  Avorldly  Athenians  to  the  tnic  principles  of  virtue 
and  piety.  This  he  asserts  in  the  most  solemn  manner  in  his 
Apology,  resting  the  defence  of  his  conduct  on  this  divine  legation. 
(See  Apology,  c.  18.) 

^Ye  here  find  a  clew  to  the  proper  understanding  of  the  vexed 
question  about  the  demon  of  Socrates.  This  is,  undoubtedly,  the 
most  difficult  matter  in  his  life,  and  h:ts  given  rise  to  the  most  varied 
theories  of  explanation.  The  difficulty  lies  in  reconciling  the  accounts 
we  have  of  it,  with  what  we  know  to  be  truth  on  the  one  hand,  and 
what  we  know  to  be  the  character  of  S.jcrates  on  the  other.  It  is 
represented  as  an  internal  voice,  that  warned  him  in  regard  to  doubt- 
ful things,  such  as,  not  to  take  the  road  that  most  of  the  army  took 
after  the  battle  of  Delium,  and  were  overtaken  by  the  enemy;  not 
to  take  a  certain  street,  which  his  friends  taking  met  with  an  accident ; 
that  the  Sicilian  expedition  would  be  unfortunate,  although  every- 
thing seemed  to  promise  success,  i^c,  cVc:  so  that  it  was  said  by 
Socrates  himself,  that  no  man  ever  neglected  his  advice  without 
having  reason  to  regret  it.     The  most  remarkable  peculiarity  of  it 


380  Socrates.  [July, 

was,  that  it  never  commanded,  biit  only  forbade,  confining  its  intima- 
tions to  simple  prohibitions  of  what  vould  be  inexpedient. 

What  -svas  the  exact  nature  of  this  intimation  ?  If  natural,  why  did 
Socrates  represent  it  as  supernatural,  and  why  did  it  warn  in  regard 
to  things  beyond  the  scope  of  ordinary  foresight?  If  supernatural, 
how  can  we  conceive  of  God  giving  him  a  messenger  that  should 
descend  to  such  tnfles  as  preventing  him  from  coming  in  contact 
■with  a  herd  of  swine,  or  Crito  from  being  scratched  by  the  branch  of 
a  tree,  when  we  have  no  evidence  that  such  a  messenger  was  ever  given 
to  any  other  mortal  ?  Without  discussing  the  various  explanations  that 
have  been  proposed,  in  ancient  and  modem  times,  we  shall  give  what 
•we  deem  to  be  the  true  one,  tliat  whilst  Socrates  honestly  believed 
it  to  be  supernatural,  it  was  merely  natural,  the  intelligible  action 
of  those  powers  of  mind  with  which  he  was  so  preeminently  gifted. 

To  suppose  that  Socrates  pretended  to  such  an  internal  guidance, 
knowing  that  it  was  not  supernatural,  is  simply  absurd.  There  is 
no  possible  mark  or  test  of  sincerity  which  he  did  not  repeatedly 
give.  It  is  usually  forgotten  in  discussing  this  point,  that  Socrates 
vas  a  firm  and  reverent  believer  in  the  traditionary  religion  of  his 
country.  Without  receiving  the  absurd  fibles  of  the  poets,  he  held 
to  cei-tain  gi-eat  doctrines,  such  as  the  existence  of  a  supreme  God, 
and  also  of  certain  subordinate  gods,  who,  although  not  supreme, 
were  yet  endued  with  a  divine  nature.  (See  a  very  remarkable  passage 
in  the  Memorabilia,  lib.  iv,  cap.  iii,  especially  §  13,  where  a  supreme 
Creator  and  Preserver  is  distinctly  asserted.)  He  further  believed 
in  an  intermediate  order  of  beings,  demons,  or  angels,  who  had  direct 
admission  to  the  soul  of  man,  and  were  capable  of  conveying  to  it 
impulses  and  impressions.  Their  aid  he  believed  could  be  obtained 
by  any  man  who  would  seek  it  in  virtuous  living.  Acts  and  states 
of  the  mind  that  could  be  referred  to  no  other  cause,  he  referred  to 
their  agency,  as  one  adequate  and  intelligible,  and  of  whose  existence 
he  had  not  the  slightest  doubt. 

There  is  a  class  of  mental  states,  the  exact  origin  of  which  is 
somewhat  obscure.  We  believe  that  a  certain  thing  is  so^  because 
we  perceive  it  to  be  so  by  a  kind  of  direct  intuition;  we  feel  an 
impression  that  we  ought  not  to  do  a  certain  thing,  although  wc 
cannot  tell  why;  we  have  an  instinctive  attraction  to,  or  recoil  from 
a  person,  an  impression  at  first  sight,  for  which  we  can  give  no  valid 
reason;  or  we  have  what  is  called  a  presentiment  as  to  the  future, 
not  based  on  reason,  and  not  subject  to  it,  Avhich  often  precedes" 
some  adverse  event.  There  are  some  men,  who  always  know  how 
to  say  and  do  the  right  thing  in  the  right  time  and  place,  not  as 
the  result  of  any  logical  process,  but  by  a  sort  of  direct  intuition. 


1853.]  Socrates.  381 

These  are  men  of  strong  common  sense,  or  mother  Tvit,  or  lucky  men, 
as  the  case  may  be,  and  if  they  were  to  attempt  an  explanation  of 
their  states  of  mind,  they  would  simply  say,  "  1  felt  that  I  ought  to 
do  so,  and  did  it."  Suppose  these  men  to  believe  in  the  admission  of 
superior  intelligences  to  the  soul,  and  there  would  be  nothing  strange 
in  the  belief  that  they  caused  these  direct  convictions  by  immediate 
impression.  Here  then  was  the  precise  position  of  Socrates. 
Along  Avith  his  wonderful  logical  powers,  he  had,  to  an  unequalled 
degree,  the  intuitive  action  of  the  faculties,  and  excelled  most  other 
men  in  clear,  direct  common  sense,  that  inexplicable  ability  of 
perceiving  the  expedient  and  proper  at  a  glance,  without  waiting 
for  any  process  of  reasoning.  His  mental  habits  gave  an  unusual 
distinctness  to  all  his  mental  states,  causing  them  to  come  forth  to 
the  cognizance  of  consciousness  with  the  vivid  clearness  of  a  voice. 
Believing  in  the  admission  of  superior  intelligences  to  the  soul,  and 
accustoming  himself  to  regard  these  mental  states  under  that  convic- 
tion, we  can  easily  see  how  they  would  readily  be  referred  to  this 
supernatural  source.  The  very  logical  structure  of  his  mind  would 
impel  him  to  give  such  an  explanation  of  these  instinctive  impressions; 
for  he  could  rest  only  in  an  ade(^uate  cause  for  every  effect,  and  such 
a  cause  for  these  phenomena  he  found  only  in  spiritual  agency. 
That  these  intimations  were  only  prohibitory,  arose,  doubtless,  from 
the  fact,  that  such  is  their  natural  tendency  in  the  mind.  It  is 
always  easier  to  know  what  we  ought  not  to  do  than  what  we  ouf^ht; 
what  is  not  the  truth  than  what  is ;  and  this  was  preeminently  the 
case  with  Socrates,  who  -^vas  always  more  ready  to  show  the  error 
of  another  man's  opinions  than  give  the  truth  as  his  own.  This 
negative,  protestant  character  of  \\h  mind,  would  naturally  give  a 
mainly  prohibitory  action  to  his  intuitions,  and  when  the  habit  was 
once  formed,  would  grow  in  emphasis  and  distinctness.  jNIaking 
the  necessary  abatements  for  exaggeration,  there  is  nothing  in  the 
accounts  of  this  demon  of  Socrate.s  that  is  not  explicable  on  this 
supposition,  and  nothing  at  variance  with  right  reason.  There  are 
incidents  in  the  lives  of  Napok-on.  Talleyrand,  and  eveiy  man  of 
extraordinary  sagacity,  to  the  full  as  wonderful  as  anythin'^' recorded 
of  Socrates,  which,  had  they  bclii'vod  in  his  psycliology,  would  have 
been  referred  to  the  genius,  as  Napoleon,  perhaps,  did  often  refer 
them  to  his  star,  and  the  hypothesis  of  the  Greek  was  every  whit 
as  reasonable  and  as  intelligible  as  th;it  of  the  Corsican. 

We  have  now  reached  the  impulse  that  lay  deepest  in  the  heart 
of  Socrates.  The  Delphic  orafle,  wliich  to  him  was  the  voice  of 
God,  had  ])ronounced  him  to  lie  tho  wi.scst  of  mortals,  and  thus 
designated  him  as  a  teacher  of  his  ffl1<>\v-nien.     He,  therefore,  de- 


382  Socrates.  [July, 

tormined  to  go  forth  and  ascertain  by  actual  experiment  the  meaning 
of  the  oracle,  and  thus  began  his  work  as  a  public  teacher.  He  felt 
that  he  had  a  lofty  mission  to  fulfil,  a  mission  to  which  he  was 
summoned  by  the  highest  of  all  authorities,  and  therefore  to  which 
he  was  impelled  by  the  deepest  of  all  obligations.  There  pressed 
upon  his  heart  a  most  vehement  prophetic  impulse,  which,  like  a 
rushing  might}^  wind,  filled  and  fired  his  whole  nature,  making  him 
feel  that  a  necessity  was  laid  upon  him,  yea  wo  was  unto  him,  if  he 
fulfilled  not  this  divine  summons ;  and  hence,  conferring  not  with  flesh 
and  blood,  he  went  right  onward  to  his  task.  He  saw  that  the 
grand  defect  of  the  Athenian  mind  was  a  conceit  of  Imowledge 
vrliilst  they  were  ignorant,  mistaking  words  for  things,  and  thinking 
that  they  understood  a  subject  because  they  could  argue  about  it. 
AYith  as  cordial  a  hatred  of  all  shams,  unrealities,  and  insincerities,  as 
the  cynical  Sartor  Rcsartus,  he  went  to  work  for  their  overthrow  much 
more  effectually  than  the  rugged  Carlyle.  He  determined  to  aid 
every  man  in  ascertaining  precisely  what  he  did  know,  by  an  inventory 
and  analysis  of  the  contents  of  his  mind,  and  thus  bring  him  to  an 
exact  estimate  of  his  own  powers  and  attainments,  and  reach  such 
an  estimate  himself 

In  entering  on  tliis  work,  he  first  selected  a  leading  politician, 
esteemed  wise  both  by  himself  and  others,  and  after  listening  to  his 
views,  he  began  to  question  him  as  to  what  he  meant  by  this  and 
that  phrase  which  he  used,  and  soon  found  that  he  attached  no  very 
definite  conception  to  those  words,  and  that  his  supposed  wisdom 
was  at  last  really  little  more  than  a  knowledge  of  terms,  whose  real 
significance  was  as  unknown  to  him  as  to  others.  He  tried  to  prove 
this  to  the  politician,  but  very  naturally  without  success.  Finding 
then  at  last  the  politician  knew  no  more  than  he  did  himself,  but 
could  not  be  made  to  admit  the  fact,  he  began  to  infer  that  the 
superior  wisdom  attributed  to  him  by  the  oracle  consisted  not  in 
greater  knowledge  than  others,  but  in  more  exactly  knowing  wherein 
he  was  really  ignorant.  He  then  went  to  other  prominent  men, 
statesmen,  poets,  and  philosophers,  but  with  the  same  result.  His 
relentless  questions  about  the  meaning  of  such  and  such  terms  soon 
carried  them  beyond  their  beaten  track  to  a  region  of  indeterminate 
vagueness,  where  they  were  soon  entangled  in  confusion.  He  then 
■went  to  the  artisans,  and  fouml  that  whilst  they  understood  their  own 
occupations,  they  were  equally  deluding  themselves  with  mere  word- 
knowledge  in  regard  to  other  subjects,  and  yet  equally  unwilling  to 
admit  tliat  they  were  really  in  ignorance  or  error.  Here  then  was 
the  work  of  his  life:  to  convince  the  Athenians  of  their  real  wants, 
to  disenthrall  them  from  the  influence  of  the  Sophists,  to  give  them 


1853.]  Socrates.  '   383 

clear  notions  of  the  great  subjects  of  human  thought,  and  thus  lead 
them  to  the  knowledge  of  truth  and  the  practice  of  virtue. 

Here  then  we  meet  with  Socrates  fairly  embarked  on  his  new 
career,  leaving  his  statuary  shop,  and  exchanging  the  moulding  of 
marble  for  the  moulding  of  men.     Uncouth,  odd,  almost  ludicrous 
in  his  appearance,  never-  have  such  a  body  and  such  a  mind  been 
brought  together  among  men.     His  great  goggle-cycs,  gnub-nose, 
thick  lips,  satyr-like  features,  and  obese  stomach,  made  him  fitting 
game  for  the  Satirists ;  but  to  the  eye  of  a  closer  observer  the  huge 
mass  of  brain,  the  strong  lines  of  character  about  the  mouth,  and 
the  square,  stalwart  frame,  evinced  an  underlying  manliness  that 
excited  other  emotions  than  those  of  the  comic.     He  had  a  body  so 
firm  and  enduring  in  its  powers,  that  on  a  fow  olives,  or  a  little  bread 
and  water  daily,  he  was  capable  of  undergoing  incredible  fatigue, 
wearing  no  under  garment,  and  the  same  upper  one  for  both  summer 
and  winter,  going  barefoot  through  the  whole  year,  and  retaining 
the  same  scanty  costume,  even  through  the  Potidix^an  campaign  with 
its  Thracian  frost  and  snow,  and  suflering  no  inconvenience  from 
the  stifling  heat  of  Athens  during  the  dread  season  of  the  plagiie. 
Calm,  good-humoured,  and  imperturbable,  he  could  come  to  the 
theatre  to  hear  himself  lashed  by  the  merciless  wit  of  Aristophanes, 
and  even  rise  up  during  the  play  that  strangers  present  might  see 
the  original  of  this  laughter-moving  picture;  and  yet  he  had  by 
nature  a  lion-like  fierceness  of  temper,  which,  when  at  rare  inter- 
vals it  escaped  beyond  his  control,  Avas  terrible  in  its  fury,  and  a 
courage   which  could   not   only   rescue  Alcibiades  and  Xenophon 
from  Ihc  battle-field  at  the  risk  of  his  own  life;  but  more  than  all 
this,  could,  as  presiding  Prytanis  for  the  day,  refuse  to  put  the 
question  that  would,  contrary  to  law,  sacrifice  the  ten  generals  to  the 
rage  of  the  people,  although  every  other  senator  shrunk  from  the 
storm;  could  refuse  to  obey  an  unjust  order  of  the  Thirty  Tyrants, 
though  enforced  with  threats  that  constrained  the  obedience  of  all 
the  others  included  in  it ;  and  could  defend  the  affrighted  Thcramcnes, 
when  even  the  sacredncss  of  the  altar  could  not  furnish  him  protec- 
tion against  the  fury  of  his  murderers.     Poor  to  utter  destitution, 
he  had  no  habit  that  demantled  riches,  and  no  taste  that  they  could 
gratify.     He  did  not  despise  the  luxuries  of  life,  like  Diogenes,  or 
glory  in  being  ragged  and  dirty,  for  he  was  commonly  neat  in  his 
attire,  but  was  simply  indifferent  to  the  elegancies  of  life  for  the 
same  reason  that  he  was  indifferent  to  the  toys  of  a  child;  he  had 
outgrown  them.     Although  rejecting  with  scorn  any  fee  for  his  in- 
stractions   as   a   degradation  of  their   priceless   and   Heaven-sent 
chai-acter;  and  steadily  refusing  the  costly  gifts  that  his  admiring 


384    "  Socrates.  [July, 

disciples  were  continually  pressing  upon  him — partly  because  he 
■would  not  be  cumbered  by  the  care  of  keeping  them,  and  partly 
because  he  preferred  to  be  indcjjcndent — he  yet  made  no  scruple  of 
asking  any  of  his  friends  for  a  new  cloak  when  he  needed  one,  and 
had  no  money  to  buy  it.  He  did  not  despise  luxurious  living:  for 
he  could  sit  down,  at  the  splendid  tables  of  Crito  and  Alcibiades, 
and  share  their  dainties  with  as  much  and  no  more  relish  than 
he  enjoyed  his  barlej'-porridgc  and  water  in  his  simple  dwelling. 
Though  habitually  tcni})crate,  even  to  abstinence,  he  could  sit  and 
tipple  and  talk  until  he  had  drunk  the  whole  company  of  bottle 
heroes  under  the  table;  and  after  reasoning,  and  disputing,  and  drink- 
ing the  live-long  night,  until  every  disputant  was  overcome  with 
drunken  sleep,  could  rise  up  in  the  early  dawn,  and  go  forth  with  his 
head  of  granite  unmoved  by  the  night's  work,  and  hunt  some  fresh 
company  with  which  to  spend  the  day  in  fresh  disputations.  All 
that  he  demanded  of  the  world  was  simply  food  and  raiment  to 
support  life  in  the  plainest  manner,  and  these  he  commonly  provided 
by  his  own  manual  labour.  Such  was  this  strange  city  missionary 
of  Athens,  who  undertook  to  reform  its  mercurial  population. 

His  method  of  procedure  was  peculiar.  Having  found  by  ex- 
perience that  the  public  assemblies  of  the  people  were  not  suitable 
places  for  his  labours,  he  directed  his  attention  to  individuals.  He 
■went  from  place  to  place,  and  from  man  to  man,  ready  to  talk  with 
every  one,  rich  or  poor,  young  or  old,  scholar  or  clown,  one  or  many; 
and  was  withal  so  simple,  so  frank,  and  so  communicative,  that  none 
could  refuse  to  listen  to  him.  Now  he  would  go  and  sit  down  in 
the  workshops  and  talk  witli  the  workmen  about  their  trades,  until 
he  had  found  out  all  that  they  could  communicate,  when  he  would 
give  them  his  own  sagacious  suggestions  about  their  work,  thus 
enlisting  their  respect  and  sympathy.  He  would  then  insensibly 
lead  them  to  higher  themes,  speaking  of  the  great  work  of  human 
life,  until  he  imparted  to  them  some  deeper  breathings  after  virtue 
than  they  ever  had  before.  iS'ext  he  would  be  found  at  the  house  of 
a  friend  surrounded  by  a  circle  of  eager  listeners,  or  at  rare  intervals 
walking  under  the  shade  of  the  plane-trees  on  the  banks  of  the 
Ilissus,  arguing  about  the  true  ofiice  of  the  poet,  the  philoso})her.  or 
the  man.  Then  he  would  go  forth  into  the  crowded  market-place, 
where  his  short,  unwieldy  figure,  rolling  along  like  a  half-sobered 
Silenus,  and  yet  broad  and  muscular  as  a  dwarfed  Hercules,  his 
quaint  dress,  his  naked  feet,  his  enormous  head,  with  its  goggle-eyes, 
snub-nose,  and  thick  lips,  would  produce  an  impression  on  the  gay 
Parisian  crowd  of  Athens,  not  unlike  the  appearance  of  George 
Munday  or  Lorenzo  How,  in  the  gardens  of  the  Tuileries.     Ever 


1853.3  Socrates.  385 

ready  to  bandy  a  jest  or  to  hold  a  colloquy,  he  would  soon  have 
around  him  a  crowd  of  listeners.  At  first  he  would  talk  to  them 
about  the  smiths  and  carpenters  who  were  at  work  around  them,  or 
discuss  some  topic  of  Athenian  gossip  for  the  day,  until  they  would 
shout  with  laughter  at  his  sly  jokes  and  liouicly  hits.  Their  atten- 
tion being  thus  gained,  he  would  insensibly  glide  into  other  topics 
of  graver  moment,  and  as  he  talked  of  these  majestic  themes  his 
eye  would  begin  to  dilate  Avith  a  strange  glow,  and  his  voice  to  thrill 
with  a  wondrous  melody  that  would  steal  from  heart  to  heart  like  a 
spell  of  fascination.  The  noise  of  the  Liughing  crowd  would  subside, 
the  eager  listeners  would  press  closer  and  closer  as  if  drawn  by  some 
resistless  attraction,  every  eye  avouM  become  fixed,  and  every  ear 
bent  forward  to  catch  those  solemn  tones  that  came  from  his  lips 
at  these  times  of  inspiration,  which  those  who  heard  them  compared 
to  the  dread  chiming  of  the  sacred  cymbals  in  the  worship  of  Cybele, 
until  at  last  every  heart  throbbed  with  the  most  intense  excitement, 
every  eye  swam  with  tears  of  emotion,  and  old  and  young,  grave 
and  gay,  friend  and  foe,  all  stood  entranced  and  spell-bound  by  tliis 
Orpheus  of  the  tongue. 

But  this  continuous  discourse  was  not  his  usual  method  of  pro- 
cedure, nor  perhaps  that  which  was  most  ])leasing  to  the  mercurial 
people  of  Athens.  The  scene  that  most  delighted  them  was  his 
handling  of  a  Sophist.  Never  did  opera  or  bull-fight  in  modem 
times  draw  together  a  more  delightf(l  crowd  than  did  the  merciless 
dissection  of  a  Sophist  by  Socrates  charm  the  intellectual  and  ex- 
citable population  of  this  Paris  of  the  ancient  world.  A  conceited 
professor  of  dialectics,  who  iuul  been  swollen  to  enormous  self- 
admiration  by  the  applause  of  gaping  scholars  in  his  native  cit}', 
would  resort  to  Athens  to  incre;L>;e  at  once  his  fame  and  his  fees. 
Ignorant,  in  those  times  of  imperfect  intercourse,  of  the  person,  and, 
perhaps,  even  of  the  character  of  Socrates,  mid  kept  in  this  ignorance 
by  the  mischief-loving  citizens  into  whose  hands  he  would  fall,  by 
some  seeming  accident  he  would  be  brought  near  him,  and  encouraged 
to  launch  out  into  one  of  his  high-soun-ling  harangues.  A  little, 
and  rather  plain-looking  man  in  the  crowd,  after  listening  in  seeming 
admiration  to  this  gi-andiloquence,  would,  with  the  utmost  deference, 
beg  leave  to  ask  a  few  questions,  as  was  customary  in  such  cases. 
He  is  delighted,  the  little  man,  with  the  wisdom  of  this  fluent 
stranger,  rejoiced  that  now  at  length  he  luis  met  one  who  can  instruct 
his  ignorance,  and  though  he  would  not  venture  to  di.^putc  conclu- 
sions so  eloquently  maintained,  yet  there  are  a  few  difficulties  in  his 
slow  mind  that  he  would  gladly  have  solved,  and  v.diich  he  doubts 
not  such  superior  wisdom  can  solve  at  a  glance.     The  unhappy 


386  Socrates.  [July, 

Sophist,  completely  thrown  off  his  guard  by  this  affected  humility 
and  ignorance,  begs  him  -with  the  most  patronizing  condescension  to 
proceed,  assuring  him  of  instant  and  entire  satisfaction.  The  modest 
little  man,  then,  asks  him  a  question,  very  simple,  and  apparently 
remote  from  the  subject,  so  al)surd]y  simple,  that,  \i\ih.  a  smile  of 
pity  at  his  stupidity,  the  luckless  Sophist  instantly  replies.  Then 
comes  another,  and  another,  not  quite  so  simple,  coming  nearer  and 
nearer,  until  soon,  like  a  mirrowing  circle  of  hunters  closing  on  their 
prey,  the  astonished  Sophist  finds  himself  hemmed  in  with  a  tighten- 
ing coll  of  difficulties,  from  which  there  is  no  possibility  of  escape 
but  in  the  abandonment  of  the  position  with  which  he  so  confidently 
started.  Vexed  and  irritated,  he  takes  another,  which  he  is  sure 
niust  be  safe  from  such  obvious  overthrow,  and  triumphantly,  almost 
defiantly,  plants  himself  there.  Again  does  this  merciless  querist 
ply  him  with  his  difficulties,  not  seeming  to  doubt  for  a  moment  that 
now  at  last  he  had  ftnmd  the  truth,  and  question  follows  question 
with  frightful  rapidity,  ur.til  again  the  hapless  wight  finds  himself 
landed  in  the  flattest  contradiction.  Sometimes,  with  a  refinement 
of  cruelty,  the  wicked  tormenter  would  himself  suggest  an  opening  of 
escape  for  the  hunted  Sophist,  condoling  him  with  affected  sympathy 
over  these  unexpected  difficulties,  and  offering  his  assistance  to  get 
out  of  them.  The  poor  Sophist  falls  into  the  lure,  and  eagerly 
catches  at  the  offered  deliverance,  and  begins  to  breathe  freely  at  his 
escape;  but  again,  to  his  consternation,  he  finds  these  entangling 
questions  enfolding  him,  until  finally  he  falls  helpless,  exhausted 
and  enraged,  a  butt  of  ridicule  to  the  laughter-loving  Athenians, 
and  a  victim  of  the  merciless  dialectics  of  Socrates. 

These  exhibitions,  or  rather  executions,  were  renewed  with  every 
new  Sophist  that  came  to  display  his  abilities  in  Athens.  They 
would  have  been  positively  wicked  in  their  cold-blooded  cruelty, 
had  it  not  been  for  the  pernicious  influence  of  the  men  who  were 
thus  flayed;  but  they  displayed  a  reach  and  subtlety  of  thought  so 
consummate  as  to  make  Socrates  the  idol  of  a  large  circle  of  intel- 
lectual young  men.  J  lad  these  wonderful  powers  been  exercised 
only  on  strangers  and  Sophists,  he  would  have  been  the  pride  of  the 
whole  city,  and  regarded  as  its  most  illustrious  ornament.  But  they 
>Yere  exercised  on  all  around  him,  without  discrimination  and  with- 
out mercy,  j^o  man  was  safe  from  the  scalpel  of  his  relentless 
analysis,  and  no  man  was  ever  thoroughly  dissected  by  it  who  was 
not  humbled  and  perhaps  irritated  by  the  process.  However  much 
this  kind  of  surgcr}-  m.ay  have  been  necessary,  the  subjects  of  it  were 
not  likely  to  frel  much  love  for  the  ])ractitioner.  Few  persons  can 
love  the  man  ayIio  humbles  them  and  makes  them  feel  that  they  are 


1853.]  Socrates.  887 

ignorant  when  they  thought  themselves  intelligent,  and  in  a  popula- 
tion so  vain  and  glory-loviug  as  that  of  Athens  there  must  have 
been  many  \yho  retained  sore  and  unliealed- «crnories  of  the  keen 
anatomizing  of  Socrates.  As  these  men  ^verc  likely  to  be  the  most 
influential  in  the  community,  the  orators,  politicians,  poets,  Arc, 
there  was  thus  gradually  accumulated  a  most  formidable  amount  of 
personal  grudge  against  him  in  all  classes  of  society.  His  peculiar 
mission  was  not  understood,  and  he  was  regarded  as  only  a  more 
subtle  kind  of  Sophist.  Assailing  as  he  did  so  many  settled  notions 
on  all  subjects,  and  often  assuming  a  tone  of  seeming  levity  about 
religious  subjects,  he  was  esteemed  as  a  secret  sceptic,  who  was 
silently  undermining  the  foundations  of  society.  Attacking  so  much, 
and  defending  so  little,  denying  rather  than  asserting,  and  often 
doing  this  with  so  much  drollery,  he  was  naturally  classed  with  the 
other  philosophers.  Hence  v.t  find  him  very  early  in  his  career 
brought  on  the  stage  by  the  stinging  and  scurrilous  wit  of  Aristo- 
phanes, and  held  up  to  ridicule  iu  tlic  comedy  of  the  Clouds,  as  a 
sort  of  irreverent  and  transcendental  dreamer,  whose  doings  and 
doctrines  were  alike  novel  and  dangerous.  The  favourable  reception 
of  this  comedy  showed  that  an  antipathy  to  this  troublesome  cross- 
questioner  had  become  very  general. 

But  there  were  other  causes  at  work  to  render  him  unpopular. 
Besides  his  firm  resistance  to  po]>ular  injustice  on  two  memorable 
occasions,  he  entertained  political  oj'inions  that  were  not  in  perfect 
harmony  with  the  democratic  con,>titution  of  Athens.  Moreover, 
the  independent  spirit  that  ho  breathed  into  his  disciples,  manifested 
itself  in  forms  of  insubordination  to  jtarcntal  and  civil  authority, 
in  a  few  cases,  such  as  Critias,  Alcibiades,  and  the  son  of  Anytus, 
one  of  his  accusers,  and  naturally  excited  prejudice  against  Socrates. 
The  few  prominent  men  who,  in  .^[)ite  of  his  teachings,  became  corrupt, 
gave  colour  to  the  charge  of  his  enemies  that  he  was  a  dangerous 
citizen,  sowing  in  the  minds  of  the  young  the  seeds  of  sedition  and 
anarchy.  Hence  instead  of  wondering  that  such  a  man  should  be 
arraigned  as  a  state  criminal,  after  such  a  life,  the  Avonder  is,  that 
in  such  a  community,  so  jealous,  excitable,  and  intolerant  as  that 
of  Athens,  he  was  not  arraigned  earlier.  It  is  a  striking  proof 
of  his  wisdom  that  he  could  pursue  a  career  that  must  inevitably 
accumulate  around  him  such  an  amount  of  rankling  odium  for  more 
than  thirty  years,  and  not  be  arrested  by  this  popular  dislike  in 
some  legal  form,  when  legal  forms  were  so  facile  and  flexible  to  the 
popular  will. 

But  at  length  it  did  overtake  him.  and  B.  C.  399  there  appeared 
on  the  portico  of  the  office  of  the  king-archon  a  tablet  with  these 


388  Soaates.  [July, 

fatal  and  memorable  -words  :  "  Melitus,  son  of  jMelitus,  of  tlie  people 
of  Pythos,  accuses  Socrates,  son  of  Sophroniscus,  of  the  people  of 
Alopecaj.  Socrates  is  criminal  because  he  acknou-ledges  not  the 
gods  that  the  republic  acknowledges,  and  because  he  introduces 
new  deities.  He  is  further  criminal  because  he  cori'upts  the 
youth.  For  his  punishment,  death."  This  accusation  spread  con- 
sternation and  sorrow  among  the  friends  of  Socrates.  Having 
passed  unharmed  througli  war,  pestilence  and  famine ;  having  lived 
through  the  French  Revolution  scenes  of  the  Thirty  Tyrants,  and 
reached  the  three-score  and  ten  that  marks  the  usual  limit  of  human 
life,  they  had  hoped  that  this  smothered  dislike,  so  long  kept  in 
abeyance,  would  await  the  inevitable  summons  that  so  soon  must 
relieve  his  enemies  of  his  presence.  But  they  knew  that  if  this 
enmity  was  afforded  scope,  there  was  little  hope  that  he  could  be 
shielded  from  its  deadly  purpose.  Hence  they  strained  every  nerve 
for  his  protection.  They  urged  him  to  prepare  for  his  defence ;  but 
he  refused,  saying  that  the  genius  had  warned  him  to  take  no  thought 
how  he  should  speak,  and  that  if  a  blameless  life  of  seventy  years 
was  not  defence  enough,  mere  words  would  be  unavailing.  Hence 
Avhen  Lysias  the  orator  o.Tered  him  an  eloquent  oration,  he  declined 
it  as  unsuitable  to  the  sim])licity  of  his  character,  and  preferred 
calmly  to  await  the  trial  without  any  special  preparation. 

The  simple  truth  is,  that  Socrates  was  indifferent  as  to  the  result. 
Endowed  by  nature  with  a  temperament  that  never  knew  fear,  he  had 
none  of  that  physical  shrinking  from  death  that  exists  as  an  almost 
uncontrollable  instinct  in  weaker  organizations.  Looking  forward 
to  a  scene  of  everlasting  reward  in  the  life  to  come,  with  unwavering 
confidence,  that  mighty  spectre  Avhose  shadow  falls  with  so  deep  a 
gloom  on  other  hearts,  had  no  power  to  appal  him.  Death  he  re- 
garded but  as  the  narrow  gateway  to  the  scenes  of  Elysium,  where 
ho  should  wander  over  the  fields  of  light  with  the  good  and  the 
brave  who  had  gone  before  him,  and  hence  regarded  its  approach 
with  serene  composure.  Knowing  it  to  be  inevitable,  believing  it  to  be 
the  beginning  of  a  better  life,  and  aware  that  his  work  in  life  must 
soon  cease  in  any  event,  he  felt  that  the  difference  of  a  few  years  in 
this  cessation  would  be  too  dearly  purchased  by  the  slightest  com- 
promise of  the  principles  that  his  whole  life  had  been  spent  in 
enforcing.  Hitherto  he  had  lived  in  lofty  superiority  to  the  common 
frailties  of  our  nature,  his  frame  of  iron  never  conscious  of  exhaustion 
or  fatigue ;  but  soon  he  must  descend  from  this  eminence,  and  3neld 
to  the  advancing  decrepitude  of  age.  This  to  him  would  have 
been  a  positive  humiliation,  less  desirable  than  an  honourable  death. 
Better  to  fall  like  the  giant  oak  beneath  the  woodman's  axe,  whilst 


1853.]  Socrates.  389 

its  stem  was  yet  strong,  and  its  leaf  was  yet  green,  than  ignobly 
perish  at  last  by  the  dishonouring  touch  of  slow  decay.  Better,  like 
Moses,  depart  with  an  undimmcd  eye,  and  an  unabated  strength, 
than,  like  feeble  old  Priam,  remain  to  present  a  pitiable  spectacle 
of  superannuated  weakness. 

Moreover,  there  was  here  perhaps  a  chance  of  crowning  with  a 
fitting  close  the  labours  of  his  life.  Having  lived  with  a  martyr's 
constancy  to  witness  for  certain  great  truths,  if  their  final  attestation 
demanded  that  he  should  seal  them  with  a  martyr's  blood,  the  same 
unfaltering  purpose  that  directed  him  how  to  live  would  also  dictate 
to  him  when  to  die.  If  his  enemies  were  successful,  he  might  thus 
reach  the  most  heroic  and  impressive  dose  that  could  be  given  to 
his  labours;  and,  like  Samson,  do  more  to  tear  down  the  fabric  of 
error  by  his  death,  than  he  had  done  by  his  life.  If  unsuccessful, 
their  failure  would  be  the  triumph  of  his  teachings,  by  the  most 
solemn  act  of  the  people.  In  either  event  he  had  reason  to  be  satis- 
fied, and  between  the  two  alternatives  he  had  but  little  to  choose. 
When,  therefore,  we  remember  his  ab.solute  devotion  to  this  high 
apostleship  of  reform,  we  can  readily  see  why  the  genius  forbade 
the  preparation  of  an  elaborate  dt-'fc-nce,  and  led  him  to  leave  the 
issue  quietly  to  the  decision  of  rrovidL-ncc. 

The  trial  came  on — a  trial  which,  fur  sublimity  and  absorbing 
interest,  has  but  one  superior  in  the  world's  history.  Five  hundred 
and  fifty-six  xVthenian  citizens  sat  duwn  in  the  dikastery  that  was 
to  try  this  memorable  cause,  and  bcfnio  tjiem  stood  this  fearless  old 
man,  conscious  of  his  rectitude,  and  aw.-irc  of  the  malice  that  had 
dragged  him  there.  Other  heart.s  were  throbbing  with  anxiety,  and 
other  lips  trembling  with  emotion ;  but  he  stood  before  his  accusers 
and  judges  with  as  unquailing  an  eye  and  as  unfaltering  a  tongue 
as  if  he  were  about  to  encounter  a  Sophist  in  the  crowded  agora. 
Anytus  and  Lykon  sustained  the  j.olitical  charges,  and  sought 
to  rouse  the  anger  of  the  peo])lc  by  showing  that  he  undervalued 
the  democratic  constitution  of  Athcn.^.  and  disliked  the  bef^.Tarly 
trickeries  of  its  mouthing  demagogues.  Mclitus  took  the  accusation 
of  irreligion,  and  sought  to  prove  him  a  j--c»'[.tic  and  a  heretic  to  the 
established  religion  of  the  state.  Scarcely  noticing  the  political 
accusations,  he  addressed  himself  to  his  main  accuser,  who  had 
sought  to  rob  him  of  his  fairest  fame,  and,  by  almost  a  single  touch 
of  his  Ithuriel  logic,  he  unmasked  lain  to  the  a.=senibly,  in  his  con- 
fusion, contradiction,  and  falsehood,  a  malignant  and  perjured  accuser. 
Then,  in  a  tone  of  lofty  superiority,  he  a>serted,  that  the  life  he  led 
was  by  the  special  call  of  Heaven,  and  that  it  was  a  bles.^ing  to  the 
city.     Although  there  was  something  oflL-n.^ivc  in  the  tone  of  this. 


390  Socrates.  [July, 

vindication,  yet  so  triumphant  was  its  reasoning,  that  in  spite  of 
the  gathered  grudges  of  thirty  years,  the  rancour  of  political  hate, 
the  power  of  personal  influence,  and  the  shielding  of  suborned  perfidy 
by  the  ballot,  on.  the  vote  whether  he  was  guilty  of  these  vague  and 
general  charges  there  was  but  a  majority  of  six  against  him  in  a 
court  of  nearly  six  hundred. 

A  gleam  of  hope  inspired  his  friends;  for  a  second  vote  was 
required  to  fix  his  sentence,  and  the  closeness  of  the  first  vote  showed 
that  if  he  would  assume  the  attitude  of  submissive  deprecation  that 
was  common  in  such  cases,  his  only  punishment  would  be  a  fine  that 
they  would  have  paid  on  the  spot.  The  rules  of  criminal  trials 
required  that  the  accuser  should  name  one  penalty,  and  the  accused 
another,  when  the  court  would  determine  the  final  award.  If  the 
demeanour  of  the  accused  was  respectful,  his  crime  not  very  great, 
and  his  proposed  penalty  in  any  due  proportion  to  the  proved  offence, 
it  was  adopted.  In  the  case  of  Socrates,  his  uprightness  was  so 
unquestionable,  his  fiunc  so  wide,  and  his  career  so  nearly  ended  by 
the  course  of  nature,  that  had  he  made  any  concession  to  the  pride 
of  the  court,  any  acknowledgment  of  the  justice  of  their  sentence, 
-  and  named  an  ordinar^^  fine,  lie  would  almost  certainly  have  escaped 
•ffith  this  award.  15ut,  to  the  consternation  of  his  friends,  when  he 
rose  to  answer  the  customary  question  as  to  his  penalty,  he  seemed 
to  stand  before  them  in  the  proud  dignity  of  a  judge  rather  than 
the  humble  attitude  of  a  prisoner.  So  far  from  cringing  to  his 
judges  to  beg  his  life,  as  otliers  had  done,  by  a  tacit  admission  of 
his  guilt,  he  refused  to  abate  a  jot  of  the  truth,  or  retract  a  syllable 
of  his  claims,  or  do  a  single  act  that  should  concede  that  his  former 
course  had  been  -wrong,  lie  would  not  purchase  his  life  by  the 
abatement  of  a  single  line  of  his  inflexible  truthfulness,  or  the  stooping 
to  a  single  act  of  dislionour.  He,  therefore,  told  them  with  an 
honest:  bluntness  that  had  all  the  effect  of  defiance  to  them,  that 
having  given  up  all  his  private  business  for  the  good  of  the  city, 
w^hen  lie  was  forced  to  say  in  sincerity  what  he  thought  such  a  man 
deserved,  he  must  say,  that  he  deserved  to  be  maintained  for  the 
rest  of  his  life  at  ti»e  public  expense  in  the  Prytancum — the  highest 
honour  ever  conferred  on  an  Athenian  citizen.  Perceiving  the  blank 
astonishment  that  this  declaration  produced,  he  proceeded  to  defend 
it  by  saying,  that  having  never  done  an  injury,  or  uttered  a  falsehood 
as  to  another,  he  could  nnt  do  cither  to  himself  by  awarding  what 
he  honestly  did  not  think  his  deserts.  Death  he  did  not  know  to  be 
an  evil,  imprisonment  or  exile  he  did.  and  ho  could  not,  therefore, 
choose  what  he  knew  to  be  evils  to  avoid  what  he  did  not  know  to  be 
such.     A  fine  he  did  not  regard  as  an  evil ;  but  such  was  his  poverty. 


1853.]  Socrates.  391 

that  he  could  not  pay  more  than  a  mina  of  silver,  about  ^17  50,  and 
in  this  sum  he  -would  amerce  himself.  His  friends  kno\\'ing  that  this 
paltry  sum  would  be  regarded  as  an  insult,  urged  him  to  name  thirty 
minaj,  oflfering  to  advance  the  sum  themselves,  -whieh  accordingly  he 
did,  and  submitted  the  case  for  decision.  \\'c  cannot  wonder  that 
his  judges  should  be  exasperated  by  what  seemed  to  them  contempt 
of  the  law,  and  that  a  majority  of  them  voted  that  he  should  die  by 
the  hemlock.  Considering  the  facts  of  the  case,  no  other  decision 
could  have  been  expected  after  sucli  a  defence,  and  yet,  considering 
the  man,  no  other  defence  could  have  been  desired. 

He  heard  the  result  without  a  throb  of  emotion,  and  turned  to  the 
judges  as  calmly  as  if  they  had  declared  his  acquittal,  and  first 
addressed  himself  to  those  who  had  vuted  to  condemn  him.  With- 
out a  word  of  anger,  bitterness,  or  defiance,  he  solemnly  assured 
them  that  they  had  done  wrong ;  that  the  cause  of  his  condemnation 
was  his  unwillingness  to  stoop  to  beg  his  life,  a  thhig  he  had  scorned 
as  cowardly  in  war,  and  could  not  regard  as  honourable  in  peace; 
that  the  effect  of  his  condemnation  would  be  more  disastrous  to  the 
city  and  his  accusers  than  himself;  and  concluded  by  saying.  "I^ow 
I  depart,  condemned  by  you  to  death,  but  my  accusers  condemned 
by  truth  as  guilty  of  iniquity  and  injustice.  1  abide  my  sentence, 
they  theirs.  These  things,  perhaps,  ought  so  to  bo,  and  1  think  them 
for  the  best."  Then  turning  to  th.jse  who  voted  for  his  acquittal, 
he  assured  them  that  this  event  w.is  not  for  evil,  and  rising  to  that 
high  discourse  on  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  in  which  he  delighted 
to  revel,  he  closed  his  address  in  a  j>a-sage  which  for  sublimity  and 
pathos  has  no  parallel  in  uninsjjired  writing,  and  which  we  would 
not  attempt  to  condense,  in  the  hope  that  our  readers  may  be  led  to 
peruse  it  themselves. 

Then  followed  those  memorable  prison-scenes  that  are  so  vividly 
portrayed  in  the  Crito  and  Thajd.)  of  I'lato;  his  calm  discourse  on 
high  and  holy  themes;  his  refusal  to  accept  the  proffered  plan  of 
escape ;  his  heroic  bearing  though  loaded  with  fetters ;  and  his  calm 
awaiting  for  thirty  days  the  return  of  the  sacred  ship  from  Delos,  du- 
ring Avhose  absence  none  could  be  executed  in  the  city.  Then  came 
that  last  memorable  day,  the  descrijdion  of  which  in  the  Phtedo 
Cicero  tells  us  he  could  never  rea<l  without  tears.  The  hours  of  this 
mournful  day  were  spent  in  discoursing  uf  futurity,  of  heaven,  hell, 
and  the  judgment,  in  words  that  thrill  us  nov,-  as  we  read  them. 
and  then  as  the  shadows  began  to  grow  long  on  the  slopes  of  the 
Hymettus,  and  the  bustle  of  busy  Athens  to  wane  toward  the  quiet 
of  the  night,  the  old  man  eloquent  began  to  prepare  to  lay  aside  his 
mortal  part  as  calmly  as  he  had  ever  laid  aside  his  garments  to  sleep, 


392  Soaates.  [July, 

and  made  himself  ready  to  die.  Then  followed  that  scene  of 
parting  and  of  death,  so  touchin^ly  and  minutely  described  by  Plato 
that  his  pages  arc  -wet  with  the  tears  of  twenty- three  centuries,  and 
we  can  only  refer  the  reader  to  their  moving  words,  if  he  would  learn 
how  Socrates  died.  lie  died  as  he  lived,  the  martyr  missionary,  the 
hero  sage,  the  model  man  of  Greece,  the  tallest  and  strongest  spirit 
that  ever  stood  on  that  classic  land  v.hose  soil  is  hallowed  by  the 
dust  of  the  mighty  dead. 

A  crowd  of  thoughts  press  on  us,  which  our  limits  must  exclude, 
or  permit  us  only  to  suggest.  Por  his  character  and  relations  as  a 
philosopher,  we  must  refer  to  the  pages  of  Schleiermacher,  Grote, 
and  others,  who  have  well  nigh  exhausted  this  theme  and  left  but 
little  more  to  be  desired  on  this  aspect  of  the  subject.  He  was  the 
Bacon  of  Grecian  philosophy,  the  father  of  that  wondrous  method 
the  use  of  which  by  his  iunnediate  successors  carried  the  science  of 
metaphysics  at  once  to  that  verge  of  possible  thought,  beyond  which 
its  boundaries  have  scarcely  been  carried  a  line  since  the  days  of 
Plato  and  Aristotle,  and  yet  a  method  which  none  have  ever  been 
able  to  use  like  its  mighty  master.  Like  the  weapons  of  Goliath, 
none  have  been  found  strong  enough  to  wield  them  since  the  giant 
arm  has  been  laid  low.  But  this  theme  is  too  wide  for  our  present 
limits,  and  we  pass  it  by. 

The  relation  of  Socrates  to  the  history  of  religion  is  a  thefne 
that  has  been  much  le<s  discussed,  and  one  which  we  would  gladly 
pursue  at  length,  were  it  possible.  The  best  features  of  the  Platonic 
element,  that  have  acte<I  for  good  as  well  as  for  evil  on  the  religious 
history  of  man,  are  duo  to  the  influence  of  Socrates.  The  counter- 
action of  that  deadly  scci)ticisiu  that  was  working  in  the  Grecian  mind, 
and  eating  out  all  belief  in  tlie  divine,  the  unseen,  and  the  eternal, 
was  furnished  by  the  influence  of  Socrates.  He  was  the  great 
prophet  to  the  old  h-Mthen  world  of  the  soul's  immortality,  and 
saved  it  from  total  corrnjiti'jn.  And  there  was  a  strength  of  belief 
in  the  great  facts  of  natural  religion,  and  a  working  of  them  up 
into  the  texture  of  his  daily  life,  that  was  amazing.  Kever  have  we 
felt  the  materialism  and  the  worldliness  of  the  modern  Church,  and 
of  our  own  hearts,  more  sternly  rebuked  than  in  reading  the  words 
and  tracing  the  life  of  this  wondrous  old  man.  There  was  a  constant 
sight  of  the  unseen  and  eternal  in  his  view,  a  practical  acknowledg- 
ment of  them  in  all  his  conduct,  and  an  evident  realization  of  them 
visible  in  his  maxims  of  reasoning,  his  forms  of  thought,  and  his  whole 
life,  that  come  nearer  the  requirements  of  the  Christian  teachings, 
than  anything  that  nioilt-rn  Cliristianity  often  furnishes.  "We  stand 
abashed  and  condemned,  with  our  Bibles  in  our  hands,  before  this 


^®^3-^  Socrates.  393 

high-heai-ted  old  heathen,  and  learn  new  lessons  from  his  hfe  in 
regard  to  the  possibility  of  conforming  to  its  spiritual  teachincrg. 
.u-  v]  ^^^  ^'^  S^^^"^^'  instruction  of  the  most  valuable  natur^from 
this  life.  It  is  the  farthest  roach  that  human  nature  has  ever  made 
•  without  the  Bible,  and  far  though  it  be.  the  errors,  flibles,  and  defects 
that  we  find  mingled  Tvith  this  pccrk-ss  pagan,  are  a  most  powerful 
proof  of  the  necessity  of  a  revelation.  Human  nature  never  went 
further  than  this,  and  yet  human  nature  must  go  further  or  fall  far 
short  even  of  Socrates.  He  rominas  us  of  some  sightless  -iant 
groping  in  his  greatness  to  find  the  path  that  the  open-eyed  child 
can  run  along  with  ease. 

But  there  are  many  points  of  comparison  as  well  as  of  contrast 
\Ve  leel  that  we  better  comprehend  that  awful  Presence  that  walked 
the  shores  of  Galilee  and  the  streets  of  Jerusalem,  as  we  follow  this 
apostle  of  reform   along  the   stroot.s  of  Athens,  denoimcincr   the 
Phariseeism  of  the  Sophists,  mingling  alike  with  the  lofty  and  the 
lowly,  living  in  contented  poverty,  and  dying  in  unfaltering  faith. 
Wide  and  wonderful  as  is  the  difference  between  them,  we  feel  that 
the  one  aids  us  to  rise  to  a  more  distinct  conception 'of  the  othen 
And  as  we  carry  the  comparison  yet  further,  we  find  new  points  of 
instruction.     The  diverse  portraits  of  Plato  and  Xenophon  enable  us 
the  better  to  understand  the  representations  of  Matthew  and  John, 
and  see  how  the  same  character  may  be  depicted  from  opposite 
points,  and  yet  be  still  the  same.     The  silence  of  Josephus  about 
the  son  of  Mary  finds  its  e.xact  parallel  in  the  silence  of  Thucydides 
about  the  son  of  Sophroniscus.     The  hatred  of  Jews  and  Romans 
toward   Christ  and  his  apostles,  and  the   strange   strohismus   of 
Tacitus  and  Pliny,  are  more  readily  understood  when  we  look  at 
the  hatred  that  assailed  Socrates  and  his  followers,  and  the  mis- 
apprehension of  their  mission  by  Aristophanes  and  others.     And 
the  very  partial  manifestations  of  repentance  that  the  Jewish  nation 
made  for  the  murder  of  their  Me.-siah,  find.s  its  counterpart  in  the 
conduct  of  the  Athenians  after  the  death  of  Socrates.     For  althou'^h 
the  common  impression  is  that  they  bitterly  repented  it,  and  put^o 
death  his  accusers,  'Mr.  Grote  shows  very  clearly  that  there  is  no 
evidence  that  they  ever  did  thus  feel  or  act,  and  that  this  common 
impression  is  wholly  erroneous.     These  thoughts  would  furnish  us 
themes  of  most  interesting  reflection ;  but  we  must  close  with  the 
opinion,  that  there  are  few  characters  the  study  of  which  will  better 
reward  the  Christian  than  that  of  Socrates. 
Fourth  Serizs,  Vol.  Y.—'2o 


394  Exposition  of  1  Cor.  m,  1-17.  [July, 


Art.  v.— exposition  OF  I.  COR.  in,  1-17. 

It  may  scarcely  be  -vs-orth  -while  to  present  here  the  different  views 
which  have  been  taken  of  this  portion  of  Holy  Scripture  by  exposi- 
tors of  note.  In  some  parts  most  of  them  agree,  -while  in  others  they 
•widely  differ.  Their  views  -will,  to  some  extent,  be  given,  in  con- 
nexion with  those  of  the  present  writer,  as  he  advances  in  his  expo- 
sition. 

The  state  of  the  Church  at  Corinth  was  deplorable ;  and  without 
a  full  examination  of  that  state  it  may  answer  every  pm-pose  for  the 
present,  to  consider  the  charge  which  the  apostle  brings  against  its 
members,  together  with  the  specifications  Avhich  sustain  the  charge. 

Verse  1.  And  I,  brethren,  could  not  speak  unto  you  as  unto 
spiritual,  hut  as  unto  carnal.  Like  those  described  in  the  previous 
chapter,  who  "received  not  the  things  of  the  Spirit." 

Verse  2.  I  have  fed  you  ivith  viilk.  They  had  made  so  little 
progress  in  things  spiritual  as  to  be  still  in  infancy,  not  able  to  bear 
strong  truth,  or  be  t;inght  in  the  deep  things  of  God. 

Verse  3.  For  yc  arc  yet  carnal.  This  is  the  charge,  and  it  is  a 
sad  one  to  stand  against  a  professedly  Christian  Church. 

The  specifications  are  undeniable,  and  fully  support  the  charge. 
Their  envying,  strife,  and  divisions  were  notorious,  and  proved 
that  they  Avalked  as  men ;  as  the  'natural,  or  carnal  man — icard 
dvdgorr^ov. 

These  divisions,  etc.,  were  caused  merely  by  their  individual 
preferences  of  men.  Some  preferred  Paul,  some  Apollos,  and  so 
parties  were  formed  in  their  names.  Such  was  the  condition  of 
many  in  that  Church :  but  we  must  not  suppose  that  all  had  so  far 
departed  from  tiie  spirit  of  their  religion;  doubtless  there  were  some 
■who  were  spiritual. 

For  the  purpose  of  leading  them  back  to  the  way  of  peace,  the 
apostle  places  himself  and  Apollos  before  them  in  their  true  relation. 

Verse  5.  Who  then  is  Paul,  and  who  is  Apollos?  They. are 
only  the  servants,  or  7ninislcrs  of  God,  by  whom  these  Corinthians 
were  brought  to  faith  in  Christ.  It  was  not  by  the  power  of  the 
ministers  that  Ihc-y  were  converted ;  but  as  the  Lord  gave  to  every 
man,  to  each  minister,  his  share  of  success. 

Verse  G.  /  have  planted,  Apollos  xvatcred.  They  were  employed 
in  the  field,  while  success,  or  increase,  -was  only  from  God.  Those 
that  plant,  or  water,  arc  nothing;  and  it  is  very  fooUsh  to  divide 
on  their  account. 


1853.]  Exposition  of  1  Cor.  iii,  1-17.  395 

Verse  8.  Noiv  he  that  pkmlcth  and  he  that  icatercfh  are  one. 
There  is  no  occasion  to  divide  and  sinve  in  favour  of  men  \vho  are 
themselves  peifectly  united.  Paul  and  Apollos  -^ycrc  of  one  heart, 
engaged  in  one  work,  and  eacli  was  sure  of  his  rc\Yard,  according  to 
his  own  labour.  Paul  planted  the  seed  of  the  kingdom  there," by 
preaching  Christ;  and  he  had  the  satisfaction  to  see  it  spring  up 
and  give  promise  of  a  harvest.  In  due  time  Apollos  "  succecdedliim 
on  the  circuit,"  and  watered  the  growing  plants. 

Verse  9.  For  we  are  labourers  tos;cther  with  God—Qeov  ydg 
loiiev  (7V2'£p)'0£— God's  labourers  together,  or  labourers  together  for 
God.  Ye  arc  God's  husband nj;  liis  field,  farm,  or  tillage.  This 
figure  is  now  laid  aside,  as  belonging  only  to  what  has  been  said. 
God!s  building;  a  new  metaphor,  still  farther  to  illustrate. 

Verse  10.  /  have  laid  tlic  foundation  :  Christ,  see  verse  11.  All 
who  should  come  after  would  build  thereon,  if  they  were  God's 
labourers.  But  let  cvcrij  man  take  heed  how  he  buildcth  thereupon. 
Every  minister  is  the  builder  here  cautioned  to  take  heed.  In  this 
discussion  the  apostle  says  not  one  word  of  any  work,  or  laboiu- 
performed  by  any  but  mini.^ters.  'J'he  Clun'ch  had  then,  and  has 
now,  work  assigned  it;  but  of  thi.?  the  writer  was  not  treating-  at  all. 
As  a  husbandry,  or  as  a  building,  tlie  Church  could  not  work.  A 
farm  does  not  plant,  or  water ;  neither  docs  a  building  procure  its 
materials,  nor  erect  itself  Having  chosen  such  metaphors,  it  Avould 
be  contrary  to  all  good  usage,  as  well  as  rhetoric,  for  the  apostle  to 
speak  of  them  as  working.  All  that  is  said  of  work,  or  labour,  refers 
to  the  ministers.     We  are  labnurcrs  ;  YE  are  the  buildino-. 

All  the  commentators  con.'^ulted  by  the  writer  agree  in  this  inter- 
pretation. Wesley,  Clarke,  Coke,  Bt-nson,  Henry,  l)oddridge,  Mack- 
night,  and  Scott,  apply  to  ministers  all  that  is  said  in  this  connexion 
about  work.  This  is  regarded  as  a  sunicicnt  answer  to  all  those  ex- 
positors who  imagine  that  the  work  belongs  to  Church  members  and 
consists  in  works  according  to  holine.-s  which  will  abide,  or  sin  which 
will  be  burned.  Some  have  supposed  that  here  is  proof  of  the  salva- 
tion of  such  as  die  in  a  partially  sanctified  state,  provided  they  Avere 
built  on  Christ  as  the  true  foundation.  It  is  supposed,  if  such  leave 
the  world  partially  impure,  the  fire  will  purge  away  their  remaining 
sins,  and  fit  them  "for  the  inheritance  of  the  saints  in  light."  This 
sentiment  is  too  near  the  minds  of  some  who  are  called  Protestants, 
while  it  is  one  of  the  fiivourite  tenets  of  the  Church  of  Rome.  Meither 
purgatory,  nor  rcstorationism,  nor  death-purification  can  find  aid  here. 
Nor  can  another  sentiment  resort  tr.  this  portion  of  Scripture  for 
support.  We  are  told  that  this  srripture  teaches  the  final  salvation 
of  the  sincere,  but  erring  Christian :  he  bases  his  faith  and  hope  on 


i396  Exposition  of  1  Co?:  iii,  1-17.  [July, 

Christ,  the  true  foundation ;  that  with  the  true  and  fundamental  doc- 
trine of  faith  in  Christ,  ho  mingles  various  errors ;  and  that  in  the 
day  "which  shall  declare  if,  these  errors  shall  be  destroyed,  or  burned, 
and  the  man  himself  shall  bo  saved,  "  so  as  by  fire." 

It  is  doubtless  true,  that  all  who  have  the  faith  which  works  by 
love,  and  who  persevere  to  tlic  end,  shall  be  saved ;  for  holiness,  and 
not  orthodoxy,  will  be  their  qualification  for  heaven.  But  this  is  not 
t?ie  idea  which  was  in  the  mind  of  the  apostle ;  nor  can  it  be  de- 
rived from  his  teachings  in  this  place,  except  indirectly,  and  by  in- 
ference. 

Verse  12.  Now  if  any  man  build  on  this  foundatio7i.  If  any 
labourer,  any  builder,  any  7!iinistcr,  build  with  gold,  silver,  jxrecious 
stones,  wood,  hay,  or  stubble.  Here  are  three  kinds  of  materials 
mentioned  which  arc  good,  and  will  bear  the  trial  by  fire ;  gold  and 
silver  will  receive  no  harm  by  such  a  test.  The  stones  are  not 
such  as  we  call  precious  stones,  in  familiar  language;  but  valuable 
stones,  such  as  are  fit  for  building  purposes.  There  are,  also,  three 
kinds  mentioned  wliich  will  not  endure,  or  abide  the  fiery  ordeal. 
Wood,  hay,  and  stubble  will  burn.  The  building  which  ministers 
are  employed  to  erect  is  a  fire-proof  one.  But  the  question  here 
arises,  What  are  we  to  understand  by  these  metaphors?  And  it 
is  just  here  that  the  doctors  disagree. 

The  greater  number  who  have  been  consulted  agree  in  saying : 
The  gold,  silver,  and  precious  stones  represent  true  and  important 
doctrines ;  while  the  vood,  hay,  and  stubble  signify  false,  or  unim- 
portant doctrines.  In  this  agree  Wesley,  Clarke,  Coke,  Benson, 
Henry,  Doddridge,  and  Scott.  Here  is  an  array  of  great  names, 
sufficient  to  settle  the  question,  if  these  were  the  court  or  jury.  And 
in  venturing  to  differ  from  them,  the  writer  will,  perhaps,  incur  the 
charge  of  temerity.  But,  in  all  humility  and  modesty,  he  is  con- 
strained to  adopt  and  express  another  opinion. 

On  this  one  point  iu  the  subject,  there  is  but  one  expositor 
known  to  the  writer  who  his,  in  his  estimation,  given  the  true  mean- 
ing.    That  writer  is  Macknight,  who  says : — 

"  Now  if  aiiv  teacher  lnill<l  on  tliis  foundation,  Christ,  sincere  disciple?,  rep- 
resented in  this  shnilitiulo  by  gold,  fHirr,  votwxhle  stones;  or  if  he  huildeth 
hypocrites,  represented  by  rcooil,  hay,  stuMe,  cverij  teacher's  disciples  shall  he 
made  manifest  in  their  true  characters." 

Dr.  Coke  is,  in  this  matter,  a  witness  not  to  be  relied  on,  because 
there  is  a  discrepancy  in  his  testimony.  It  may  be  well,  notwith- 
standing, to  hear  him.     In  one  place  he  sa3^s : — 

"  If,  therefore,  any  teacher  buiit  on  that  foundation  sincere  converts,  meu- 
phorically  represented  by  <jold^  sdeer,  and  precious  stones;  or  If  he  built  h\-po- 


1853.]  Exposition  of  1  Cor.  iii,  1-17.  397 

critical  professors  tlioreon,  represented  by  icood,  7iay,  and  stuhhic,  he  told  them 
the  fire  of  persecution,  -which  was  ready  to  fall  on  the  temple  or  Church  of  God, 
would  discover  the  nature  of  ever}-  teacher's  work." 

This  is  found  in  his  general  introductory  remarks  on  this  chapter, 
and  they  do  not  vciy  well  prepare  the  reader  for  what  is  found  on 
the  next  page  but  one.     In  tliis  last  place  he  says : — 

"  If  what  he  taught  be  sound  and  w)<j<1.  and  will  5t;md  the  trial  as  silver,  and 
gold,  and  precious  stones  abide  in  the  iiro,  he  shall  be  rewarded  for  his  labour 
in  the  gospel ;  but  if  he  has  introduced  I'aNc  or  unsound  doctrines  into  Chris- 
tianity, he  shaU  be  like  a  man,  whose  building  being  of  wood,  haij,  and  stuhUc, 
is  consumed  by  the  fire." 

Some  of  the  many  commentators  who  are  mentioned  above,  sup- 
pose these  metaphors  represout  morals  as  well  as  doctrines,  and, 
indeed,  include  the  Avhole  of  the  minister's  teaching  under  these 
figures.  Only  one  of  them  cntci'S  at  all  into  the  work  of  defending 
this  view  of  the  meaning  of  gold,  silver,  6cq.  Mr.  Benson,  after 
quoting  Macknight,  as  above,  sa}-^ : — 

"  But,  as  by  the  foundation,  whirh  ho  snys  he  had  laid,  the  apostle  un- 
doubtedly meant  the  doctrine  concerning  Clin>t,  and  siilvation  through  him,  it 
seems  more  consistent  with  his  dc?ign  to  iiitci-prot  what  refei-s  to  the  superstruc- 
ture attempted  to  be  raised  by  dilVcn'nt  builders,  of  doctrines  also,  and  not 
persons  introduced  by  tliem  into  the  Chri-tiau  Church."' 

But  does  not  Mr.  Benson  for^'ct  the  leading  metaphor  of  the 
apostle  ■?  "  Ye  are  God's  building.""  lie  does  not  say.  Your  opinions, 
received  from  your  teachers,  arc  the  building.  This  would  be  a 
strange  figure  in  itself — one  which,  it  is  believed,  is  not  used  at  all 
in  the  New  Testament.  And  this  idea  would  mar  and  disfigm-e  the 
leading  metaphor  which  the  ajiostle  had  chosen.  A  building  is  in 
process  of  erection,  ministers  are  the  builders,  and  "ye,"  the 
Corinthians,  are  the  buildin:^.  Besides.  'What  sort  of  building  would 
-that  be  which  should  consist  of  docimies  ?  At  most,  a  theoretic 
house.  The  idea  expressed  by  Mr.  l?enson,  that  such  a  superstruc- 
ture would  be  more  consistent  with  the  apostle's  design,  appears 
weak  and  erroneous ;  and  the  roa.'?on  which  he  assigns  is  not  satis- 
factory. Because  the  foundation  laid  is  Christ,  or  the  doctrines 
concerning  Christ,  it  does  not  follow  that  the  superstructure  is  also 
Christ,  or  the  doctrines  concerning  Christ:  esj>ccially  as  the  apostle 
plainly  declares,  "Ye  are  God's  Inalili'ii:.'' 

Doctrines  have  a  near  relation  to  the  building,  it  is  true,  but  not 
as  composing  its  materials;  and  it  is  believed  that  this  relation 
has,  by  a  little  confusion  in  the  mind,  caused  the  error  which  is  here 
noticed.  The  means  used  for  the  jiurpo.se  of  prejiaring  material  fur 
the  building  have  been  confounded  with  the  material  itself     The 


398  Exyosition  of  1  Cor.  iii,  1-17.  [July, 

preaching  of  Christ  as  the  foundation,  the  proclamation  of  the  doc- 
trines concerning  Christ,  are  the  means  used;  or,  to  speak  meta- 
phorically and  familiarly,  they  arc  the  implements,  the  tools  -with 
which  the  builders  ^vork.  But  to  call  these  the  ivork  itself,  -^-ould 
be  contrai-y  to  the  plainest  rules  of  interpretation,  and  would  utterly 
spoil  the  apostle's  leading  figure,  and  defeat  his  main  design.  'Te 
are  God's  building."  This  is  a  meta})hor  peculiarly  fitting,  and  one 
which  is  often  used  by  New  Testament  writers.  Eph.  ii,  20-22, 
"Jesus  Christ  himself  hving  the  chief  corner-stone ;  i?i  whom  all 
the  huilding  fithj  framed  together,  groweth  unto  a  holy  temple  in 
the  Lord :  in  whom  ye  also  are  huildcd  together,  for  a  habitation 
of  God  through  the  Sjjirit." 

Mr.  Benson  himself,  in  his  comments  on  these  verses,  teaches  that 
believers  are  the  building,  or  temple;  and  though  it  may  appear  in- 
consistent in  him,  actually  refers  to  1  Cor  iii,  as  to  parallel  passages. 

Dr.  Clarke,  also,  speaks  very  plainly  and  to  the  point  on  the  above 
passages.     On  verse  21  lie  says: — 

"  By  which  foundation  corner-stone,  Christ  Jesus,  all  the  lu'dding,  composed 
of  converted  Jews  and  (n-utWfs;,  jitlij  framed  together,  awapuoloyovuivri,  prop- 
erly jointed  and  connicl-d  tngttkcr,  (jrovxtk  unto  a  holy  temple:  'is  continually 
increasing  as  new  converts  I'rom  Judaism  or  heathenism  flock  into  it." 

1  Peter  ii,  5,  "Ye  also,  as  lively  stones,  are  built  up  a  spiritual 
house."  The  commentators  are  well  agreed  in  their  interpretation 
of  this  verso.  Tliey  regard  the  converts  as  the  materials  which 
compose  the  house,  or  lioly  temple ;  and  let  the  reader  decide  if 
there  is  any  stronger  reason  for  this  interpretation  here  than  in  the 
passages  more  directly  under  consideration?  Does  the  language  of 
the  apostles,  in  the  quotations  from  Ej)hesians  and  Peter,  require 
such  an  interpretation  more  imperatively  than  in  the  following : — 
"  Ye  are  God's  huihling ;"  ''Know  ye  not  that  YE  are  the  temple  of 
Godr 

The  more  time  lias  been  devoted  to  this  one  question,  because  it 
is  believed  that  this  is  the  key  to  the  meaning  of  the  whole;  and  it 
is  submitted  if  this  jjoint  is  not  made  sufficiently  plain.  Is  it  not 
apparent  that  the  gold,  silver,  and  precious  stones  represent  such 
members  of  the  Church  as  are  holy,  sincere,  enduring,  and  approved 
of  God?  And  that  the  tcood,  hay,  and  stvhhle  represent  such  mem- 
bers as  are  unfit  for  the  place  they  occuijy  in  the  Church— are  such 
as  M'ill  be  disowned  and  displaced  in  the  day  of  trial? 

A^'erse  13.  Every  mail's  work  shall  he  made  manifest ;  for  the 
day  shall  declare  it.  Expositors  are  not  agreed  M-ith  regard  to  the 
day  here  mentioned.  Some  suppose  it  is  any  time  of  persecution 
which  should  come  upon  the  Church  and  try  its  members.     But  do 


1853.]  Exposition  of  1  Cor.  iii,  1-17.  399 

not  those  men  appear  a  little  inconsistent  who  first  represent  the 
minister's  ■work  as  consisting  of  doctrines,  and  then  the  trial  of  his 
work  as  the  trying  of  the  genuineness  and  integrity  of  his  converts? 

Dr.  Clarke  inclines  to  the  opinion  that  the  day  of  trial  is  the 
time  of  tribulation  which  should  conic  upon  Jcj-iisalcm,  and  ti-y  the 
virtue  of  the  two  systems,  Judaism  and  Christianity.  But  this  is  very 
improbable.  Corinth  lay  far  away  from  Jerusalem,  had  very  little 
intercourse  or  connexion  with  it,  aud  tiic  members  of  tlie  Corinthian 
Church  were,  chiefly,  if  not  entirely,  Gentiles.  All  these  circum- 
stances would  combine  to  render  such  a  reference  unintelligible  to 
those  addressed.  It  is  probably  true  that  very  few,  except  the  Chris- 
tians in  and  about  Jerusalem,  had  any  clear  views  of  our  Lord's  pre- 
diction of  its  destruction;  and  even  these  had  but  confused  notions 
conceming  this  event,  until  the  predictions  began  to  be  fulfilled. 
Then,  and  not  before,  they  prepared  fVir  tlieir  flight.  None  but  the 
inspired  apostles  had  Jerusalem's  downfal  in  their  field  of  vision; 
and  it  could  not  be,  with  them,  the  "  central  idea,"  as  it  now  is  with 
some  expositors. 

Again,  this  interpretation  is  not  in  accordance  with  the  subject 
treated  by  the  apostle.  He  speaks  of  tlic  trial  of  the  works  of  minis- 
ters who  were  building,  or  had  built,  or  who  should  build  on  the 
foundation  xchich  he  had  laid  at  Corinth.  Hence  the  trial  is  not 
to  be  the  issue  of  a  competition  between  st/stenis,  but  the  test  of  the 
works  of  the  builders  of  God's  Jkhi^sc.  How  the  works,  or,  as  we 
have  seen,  the  converts  made  at  ('"rinth  by  the  teachings  of  minis- 
ters, were  to  be  tried  in  the  fire  of  Jerusalem's  tribulation,  is  not 
very  apparent. 

It  is  freely  admitted  that  there  usually  comes  a  time  of  trial  soon 
after  a  season  of  revival ;  and  tiie  integrity  and  steadfastness  of  pro- 
fessed converts  are  sometimes  tried  as  by  fire.  Still,  it  is  most  prob- 
able, that  the  datj  in  the  text  is  tliat  day  in  which  God  "will  judge 
the  world  in  righteousness ;"  when  "  every  work  shall  be  brought  into 
judgment."  This  is  the  view  taken  by  most  commentators.  The 
use  of  the  definite  article,  the  day,  the  iire,  carries  the  mind  forward 
to  that  day,  and  to  that  trial.  And  the  statement  appears  to  be  of 
general  application.  It  refers  to  all  men,  all  builders,  who  shall  be 
employed  in  that  work;  and  the  time  seems  to  be  that  which  shall 
declare  for  them  all  at  once.  The  language  sounds,  at  least,  as 
though  the  works  of  all  will  be  tritd.  revealed,  and  declared  at  the 
same  time.  If  so,  it  must  be  after  they  shall  all  have  done  their 
work. 

•'  Because  it  shall  be  revealed  bi/frr  ;  and  the  fire  shall  try  every 
man's  rvork,  ofichat  sort  it  is."    There  shall  be  a  complete  and  final 


400  Eocposition  of  1  Cor.  iii,  1-17.  [July, 

investigation,  which  shall  accurately  determine  the  works  of  every 
builder.  It  is  true,  the  icorks  of  professors  and  sinners  too  will  all 
be  tried,  for  "  every  one  of  us  shall  give  account  of  himself  to  God ;" 
but  this  is  not  the  point  under  discussion.  The  apostle  is  speaking 
here  only  of  the  trial  of  the  builder's  work ;  not  of  the  means  em- 
ployed, or  the  implements  used,  but  of  the  work  as  a  result.  A 
man  employs  a  builder  to  erect  a  house  according  to  specified  descrip- 
tion, as  to  dimensions,  apartments,  and  materials.  Now,  when  the 
owner  of  the  house  comes  to  examine  it,  he  will  not  turn  his  attention 
in  whole,  or  in  part,  to  the  implements  used.  There  were  the  tools 
of  the  quarry-man,  with  which  he  separated  the  stones  from  the 
mass,  and  formed  and  fashioned  them  for  their  places  in  the  building. 
There  were  the  various  means  or  powers  by  which  these  were  elevated 
to  their  positions.  There  were  tiie  various  implements  with  which 
the  whole  building  was  finished ;  but  these  are  not  the  xoork  to  be 
examined  in  order  to  detenninc  whether  the  house  is  built  according 
to  the  contract.  The  house  itself  is  the  subject  and  object  which  is 
to  be  tried  by  the  inspection.  If  several  labourers  were  employed, 
the  work  of  each  will  be  inspected,  and  every  man's  work  declared. 
So  in  the  case  under  consideration.  God  has  men  employed  to  build 
him  a  house,  which  is  to  consist  of  men — of  persons  who,  collectively, 
should  be  a  spiritual  house.  This  house,  as  a  Avhole,  and  every 
builder's  part -in  particular,  is  to  be  inspected.  The  gospel,  or  the 
preaching  of  the  gospel,  including  both  public  and  private  teaching, 
with  all  the  means  which  a  minister  uses  in  the  prosecution  of  his 
work,  are  his  implements — his  tools.  These  are  not,  in  this  discus- 
sion, considered  as  his  work.  His  work  is  seen  as  a  result,  and  as 
such  it  will  be  subjected  to  the  test.  To  speak  metaphorically,  the 
building  is  designed  to  ha  fire-proof ;  and  the  test  must  be  applied 
to  the  materials  which  compose  it,  and  not  to  the  implements  with 
which  the  labourers  wrought. 

Verse  14.  //"  any  man's  work  abide — he  shall  receive  a  reward. 
"  They  that  turn  many  to  righteousness,  shall  shine  as  the  stars  for- 
ever and  ever."  "  For  what  is  our  qxo^^i  of  rejoicing?  are  not  ye  in 
the  day  of  the  Lord  Jesus ".'"  Such  a  labourer  shall  receive  a  reward 
in  proportion  to  his  labours. 

Verse  15.  If  aru/  /nan's  rrork  shall  he  Imrned,  he  shall  suffer  loss. 
If  the  materials  which  he  brings  into  this  building,  which  is  to  be 
proved  by  fire,  are  burned  ;  if  his  converts  are  spurious,  and  will  not 
bear  the  test,  he  shall  lose  liis  reward.  He  was  never  employed  to 
erect  a  house  on  tJiat  fonndntion  with  such  materials.  His  work 
will  be  burned,  and  he  shall  lose  his  labour  and  his  anticipated  reward. 
It  is  feared  that  many  will  suffer  loss  in  that  day  who  are  looking 


1853.]  Exposition  of  1  Cor.  iii,  1-17.  401 

for  large  rewards ;  and  it  is  important  that  all  builders  receive  the 
apostolic  caution,  "  Let  every  man  take  hoed  how  lie  buildeth  there- 
upon." As  no  builder  can  succeed,  except  in  the  use  of  the  proper 
means,  or  by  using  the  proper  implements,  it  may  come  to  pass  that 
the  work  will  be  so  badly  executed  as  to  cause  its  rejection.  The 
doctrines  and  duties  inculcated  by  ministers  have  a  very  direct  and 
powerful  bearing  upon  the  Christian  character  of  their  converts. 
"Take  heed  to  thyself  and  to  the  doctrine,"  is  most  important 
counsel. 

Should  a  minister  preach  self- conversion,  and  teach  that  the  only 
change  to  be  expected  is  that  change  of  mind  or  preference  which 
the  man  effects  in  himself,  he  would  be  very  likely  to  bring  into  the 
Church  those  who  will  be  found  on  tlie  trial  unholy  and  reprobate. 
Have  not  many  such  found  a  resting-place  in  the  Church  as  pro- 
fessedly component  parts  of  the  holy  temple?  Another  labourer 
may  teach  the  doctrine  of  baptismal  regeneration,  and  lead  those 
under  his  care  to  beUeve  themselves  in  the  favom-  of  God,  merely 
through  this  external  rite.  In  such  cases  they  will  scarcely  seek 
for  an  inward  work  of  the  Spirit,  by  which  they  may  be  made 
partakers  of  the  divine  nature.  They  will  be  at  ease  in  Zion, 
fancying  themselves  secure  through  the  merely  outward  operation  of 
the  administrator;  and  it  will  surely  be  found  in  the  day  of  trial 
that  this  qualification  is  insullicicnt.  Such  work  will  not  abide. 
"Without  holiness  no  man  shall  see  the  Lord.  Another  may  teach 
Antinomianism,  and  lead  his  converts  to  despise,  and  not  maintain 
good  works.  They  will,  through  such  teaching,  remain  unholy;  and 
while  professing  faith  in  Christ,  wliich  is  not  productive  of  good 
works,  they  will  remain  under  condemnation  and  be  doomed  to  the 
fire.  Another  may  use  "  enticing  words  of  man's  wisdom,"  and  draw- 
many  disciples  to  himself,  rather  than  to  Christ;  and  when  brought 
into  the  visible  Church  they  may  know  nothing  of  justification 
through  faith  in  Christ.  Even  '"the  things  of  the  Spirit  of  God" 
may  be  "foolishness  to  them."  Men  are  sometimes  converted  to  a 
party,  or  a  fivction,  and  brought  into  the  Church,  who  have  never 
been  converted  to  anything  better.  These  may  say,  "  I  am  of  Paul, 
or  I  of  Apollos,"  and  yet  be  "  carnal  and  walk  as  men."  If  this 
evil  be  the  result  of  erroneous  or  defective  teaching  on  the  part  of 
the  labourer,  he  is  building  with  Juiij,  tcood,  and  stubble.  The  mem- 
bers introduced  into  the  Church,  who  are  of  such  a  character,  will 
not  bear  the  test. 

If,  in  times  of  revival  and  gcuend  excitement,  men  are  brought 
into  the.  Church  who  were  never  converted,  it  is  building  with  com- 
bustible materials.    It  is  feared  many  of  this  description  have,  in 


402  Exposition  of  1  Cor.  iii,  1-17.  [July, 

years  past,  been  admitted ;  and  the  successors  of  such  labourers  have 
inherited  a  house  upon  which  they  must  Avork,  where  there  is  more 
of  wood  as  the  frame-work,  Iiaij  as  the  thatch-roof,  and  stuhhle  as 
the  mixture  in  the  walls,  than  of  gold,  silver,  or  precious  stones,  to 
give  it  beauty  and  strength.     Jachin  and  Boaz  are  not  there. 

Some  men  may  succeed  in  that  part  of  the  work  which  consists  in 
leading  sinners  to  Christ,  who  are  yet  defective  in  that  which  is 
necessary  to  their  future  edification.  If,  through  the  neglect  or  un- 
skilfulness  of  the  labourer,  converts  are  left  to  spiritual  famine  and 
death,  the  workman  will  suflor  loss.  It  is  a  very  important  part  of 
the  work  of  a  builder  for  God,  to  build  up-  converts  in  their  most 
holy  faith;  and  if  he  neglect  this  branch  of  duty,  many  may  fall 
away  and  perish,  and  the  fault  will  be  charged  upon  him  who  should 
watch  for  souls  as  he  who  mu.st  give  account. 

There  are  many  ways  in  which  a  builder  may  fail  in  his  work, 
even  wliile,  in  general,  he  may  be  owned  and  employed  by  the  owner 
of  the  building ;  and,  as  a  consequence  of  his  failures,  his  work  will 
be  burned. 

But  he  himself  shall  he  saved,  yet  so  as  hy  fire.  The  supposi- 
tion all  along  is,  that  the  builder  is  a  sincere  Christian.  He  is  a 
labourer  employed  by  the  great  Proprietor  of  the  house,  and  he 
builds  on  the  true  foundation.  This  shows  that  the  apostle  is  not 
speaking  of  such  teachers  as  were  labouring  to  destroy  "  the  faith," 
such  as  would  subvert  the  gospel  of  Christ.  He  is  speaking  of  God's 
labourers.  Yet  such  as  are  here  described  are  not  sufficiently  careful 
or  skilful  in  their  pre])aration  or  selection  of  materials  with  which 
to  build.  The  result  is,  some,  at  least,  of  their  work  is  burned.  But 
they  are  not  condemned  as  wicked  servants  or  perverse  builders, 
and,  therefore,  they  shall  be  saved. 

The  man  who  builds  himself  a  house  of  combustible  materials 
chiefly,  may  put  into  it  some  which  are  fire-proof,  yet  that  house 
may  be  consumed  by  fire  so  rapidly  as  to  allow  him  barely  time  to 
escape  with  his  life.  He  has  lost  all  his  labour  in  erecting  his  house, 
and  all  the  comfort  which  he  hoped  to  enjoy  in  it  as  his  shelter  and 
home.     His  life  is  saved,  but  he  is  left  destitute  of  many  comforts. 

So  the  builder  for  God  has  failed  to  construct  a  fire-proof  house, 
and  he  receives  no  reward  for  such  labour,  and  is  "scarcely  saved" 
himself  from  the  fire  which  burns  his  works.  This  may  be  the  ex- 
perience of  some  who,  in  our  day,  arc  acquiring  extensive  popularity 
as  revivalists,  and  gathering  crowds  into  the  Church  for  their  suc- 
cessors or  the  fire  of  the  great  day  to  displace. 

Verse  1(5.  Knoxo  ye  not  that  ye  arc  the  temple  of  God?  Here 
the  apostle  applies  what  he  had  so  fully  illustrated.    Know  ye  not — 


1853.]  Exposition  of  1  C07:  iii,  1-17.  403 

do  ye  not  now  understand — that  yc  are  the  very  temple  I  have  been 
describing  ?  As  if  to  take  away  all  obscurity  and  all  doubt  of  his 
meaning,  he  sets  a  guard  both  in  van  and  rear.  In  the  van  he  has 
placed,  "Ye  are  God's  building ;"  and  in  the  rear,  "  Know  ye  not  that 
ye  are  the  temple  of  God?"  The  whole  is  intended  to  save  us  from 
the  error  into  which  so  many  fall,  notwithstanding  the  precaution. 
How  could  he  have  made  this  meaning  plainer?  His  Alpha  and 
Omega  both  declare  that  the  building— the  temple— consists  of  the 
Church  mcDibers  collectively ;  and  it  follows  that  those  who  are  the 
builders  must  use  persons  as  materials  in  its  erection.  And  it  fol- 
lows with  equal  conclusiveness,  that  the  works  of  builders  which 
are  to  be  tried  are  pcrsoiis  brought  by  them  into  the  Church.  He 
is  not  discussing  the  question  of  individual  temples  of  God;  and 
while  it  is  certain  that  the  Holy  Spirit  dwells  in  the  heart  of  each 
believer,  it  is  certain  that  iierc  St.  Paul  is  speaking  of  a  building 
made  up  of  the  aggregate  of  members  in  that  one  place. 

Verse  17.  If  any  man  dfilc  [destroy]  tJto  temple  of  God,  him 
will  God  destroy.  Here  is  the  warning  for  which  he  had  been  all 
along  preparing  their  minds.  ]jy  their  strife  and  divisions  they 
were  destroying  the  Church.  If  they  continued  to  "  bite  and  devour 
one  another,  they  woidd  be  consumed  one  of  another." 

The  enormity  of  such  an  oftVnce  is  placed  before  them  in  its  true 
colours  and  dimensions.  For  the  trmple  of  God  is  holy.  The  act 
which  destroys  it  is  a  sacrilegious  act;  and  those  who  are  ^\\ij  icill 
God  destroy.  AVhatsoever  tomls  to  this  disastrous  result  should  be 
avoided  as  both  dangerous  and  wicked.  It  is  no  small  matter  to  be 
guilty  of  causing  schism  in  the  Church,  or  separations  from  it;  and 
such  as  cause  divisions  and  olVfUces  will  meet  a  fearful  doom,  unless 
they  repent. 

The  subject  will  justify  brief  n-marks  in  conclusion.  The  exposi- 
tion here  given  harmonizes  hi  all  its  parts,  and  gives  an  easy  and 
good  sense  to  every  e.xpres.>ion.  All  other  explanations  appear  to 
lose  sight  of  the  leading  metaphor,  which  is  the  key  to  the  meaning 
of  the  whole.  It  is  believed  that  here  is  nothing  strained  and 
nothing  fonciful.  The  whole  is  not  only  consistent  in  its'  parts,  but 
is  also  in  hannony  with  the  analogy  of  faith.  2s"o  violence  is  done 
to  any  doctrine  of  Scripture,  nor  to  any  rule  of  sound  interpretation. 

This  \iew  accords  strictly  with  the  scope  of  the  apostle— with  his 
manifest  design.  On  any  other  principle  it  is  not  easy  to  see  why 
he  should  have  chosen  such  metaphors,  and  especially  why  he  should 
have  adhered  so  closely  to  the  main  one,  "H'c  are  labourers,  ijc  are 
God's  building."  The  apostle  saw  the  evils  which  were  rapidly  increas- 
ing in  that  Church.    It  was  in  iuuniucnt  peril  because  of  divisions.    To 


404  The  Heathen  and  MedicBval  [July, 

bring  it  back  to  the  way  of  peace,  ho  places  ministers  and  members  in 
their  proper  relation  to  each  other,  and  all  in  their  true  relation  to 
God.  A  familiar,  but  forcible  metaphor  is  chosen :  a  building,  with 
the  labourers  employed  in  its  erection,  and  the  materials  used  in  its 
construction.  The  whole  subject  is  treated  in  a  way  to  cure  them 
of  their  folly,  and  avert  the  threatening  ruin. 

The  subject  is  eminently  practical.  It  teaches  ministers  caution 
and  discretion,  as  avcH  as  diligence  in  their  work.  In  the 
apostle's  days,  especially,  ministers  were  the  sole  judges  of  the 
qualifications  of  candidates  for  Church  membership.  It  belonged 
to  them  alone  to  select  or  reject  materials  with  which  to  build  a 
house  for  God.  They  went  where  no  Church  existed,  and  it  was 
their  work  alone  to  prepare  materials  for  its  erection.  They  laid 
the  foundation,  preached  Christ,  and  when  God  gave  success,  as  wise 
master-builders,  they  made  the  selection,  brought  persons,  as  lively 
stones,  together,  and  rejoiced  to  sec  the  "  whole  grow  into  a  holy 
temple  in  the  Lord."  Even  now  the  ministers  are  held  responsible, 
to  a  great  extent,  for  the  clmracter  of  the  visible  Church.  They 
ai-e  the  builders  of  that  sacred  edifice,  and  their  work  in  this  respect, 
as  well  as  in  all  others,  should  be  performed  in  viev/  of  ihafire  which 
shall  try,  and  the  da\j  which  shnll  declare  it. 

The  subject  is  eloquent  in  warning  to  Church  members.  Let  them 
know,  that  if  found  unholy  when  they  go  hence  they  will  be  as  fuel 
for  the  fire.  Instead  of  looking  for  a  moral  purgation  in  that  fire, 
they  should  hasten  to  the  atoning  and  cleansing  blood.  "  For  behold 
the  day  cometh  that  shall  burn  as  an  oven ;  and  all  the  proud,  yea, 
and  all  that  do  wickedly,  shall  be  as  stubble.  And  the  day  that 
cometh  shall  burn  them  up,  saith  the  Lord  of  hosts,  that  it  shall 
leave  them  neither  root  nor  bi-anch." 


Akt  W.—TWE  heathen  AXD  :siEDIiEVAL  CIVILIZATION 
OF  IllELAND. 

The  Irish,  it  is  known,  pretend  to  have  possessed  learning  and 
civilization,  while  the  rest  of  Europe,  including  England,  was 
wi-apt  in  mediaeval  ignorance.  Is  this  pretension  well  founded? 
Did  the  civilization  exist  ?  And  if  so,  to  what  extent— in  what  degree? 
These  are  questions  of  high  importance,  in  both  their  special  and 
their  general  bearings. 
In  ti-uth,  the  first  question,  besides  determining  a  point  of  local  and 


1853.]  Civilization  of  Ireland.  405 

national  history — the  fact  that  Ireland  had  an  exceptional  civilization 
at  this  period — vrould,  if  decided  in  the  affirmative,  present  us  tvro 
ulterior  queries:  the  one,  as  to  the  source  of  this  high  refine- 
ment; the  other,  as  to  the  cause  of  its  subsequent  disappeai-ance. 
And  each  of  these,  again,  -svould  subdivide  into  other  great 
branches.  For,  of '  necessity,  the  source  must  have  been  either 
indigenous  or  derived.  But,  if  indigenous,  it. were  a  thing  -without 
example  in  all  history,  excepting  Egypt — an  exception  however  due 
only  to  our  ignorance — and  if,  thcretort',  derived,  then  from  Trhich  of  the 
traditional  colonizations  V  And  as  to  what  had  caused  its  loss,  the 
practical  question  would  come  to  this :  Whether  England,  instead  of 
civilizing,  as  she  says,  has  not  in  truth  rebarbarizcd  Ireland  ? 

Such  is  the  double  series  of  ascending  and  descending  consequences 
which  depends  on  the  decision  of  the  first  inquiry.  If  the  decision 
be  affirmative,  the  consequences  become  principles  for  analytical  and 
systematic  exploration  of  Irish  iiistory.  And  if  negative,  that  is. 
if  no  such  civilization  has  exif^tcd,  then  its  origin  and  end,  and  the 
thousand  contests  about  its  splendour.-^,  would,  of  course,  be  cut  off, 
once  for  all,  by  the  root;  the  Irish  people  would  come  themselves 
to  see  both  what  they  have  been,  and  where  they  are ;  and  philosophical 
inquirers  would  turn  attention  to  a  country  among  the  most  ancient, 
the  most  interesting  and  most  monumental  of  YVestem  Europe. 
But  to  the  results  of  cither  order,  tlic  fust  and  cardinal  condition 
is  to  have  ascertained  the  fact,  whether  the  civilization  did,  or  did 
not,  exist. 

The  other  fundamental  question,  as  to  its  nature  or  degree, 
•would  be  found  prolific  of  still  larger  elucidation.  For  to  measure 
any  one  degree  must  prcsup})0.<e  a  general  scale,  which  amounts. 
in  this  case,  to  a  complete  theory  of  civilization  and  human  historv. 
And  then,  again,  to  recognise  such  ilieory  in  the  actual  developments 
of  a  given  society,  it  is  indispensable  to  invoke  a  philosophy  of 
historical  evidence  and  interpretation.  Yet  all  these  principles 
we  are  forced  to  glance  at,  to  bring  the  question  to  any  issue.  It 
is  precisely  for  want  of  such  a  procedure  that  Irish  history  is  still 
half-fabulous. 

The  leading  inquiries  then  are  these,  in  order :  1st.  Had  Ireland, 
at  any  time,  from  say  the  first  to  the  tweltth  century,  a  civilization 
in  the  proper  sense,  or  at  lca.-^t  .Hipcrior  to  the  rest  of  Europe": 
2d.  And  if  she  had,  what  was  its  -absolute  extent,  or  as  compared 
with  the  current  standard  of  the  present  day? 

To  answer  the  first,  we  should  begin  by  defining  the  thing  inquired 
about.  Civilization,  then,  is  the  education  whether  of  a  special 
society,  or  of  the  entire  race.     It  commences,  therefore,  in  the  social 


406  The  Heathen  and  Mediaval  [July, 

as  in  the  intellectual  being  immediately  after  its  independent  exist- 
ence, lu  this  sense,  of  course,  it  exists  in  all  communities  at  all  times. 
But  it  is  only  when  the  collective  mind  attains  that  ripeness,  that 
self-consciousness,  which  the  law  considers,  in  the  individual,  to  be 
the  age  of  responsibility,  that  its  grade  of  culture  gets  the  name 
of  civilization ;  just  as  civilization  attains  maturity,  that  is  to  say, 
social  manhood,  with  the  age  of  reason,  that  is,  of  science,  in  society. 
Discarding  here,  then,  this  last  degree,  as  beyond  the  province  of 
the  present  inquiry,  the  ])revious  social  evolution  may  be  divided 
into  two  periods.  We  shall  name  them  the  Unconscious  and 
the  Conscious  Civilization,  or,  synonymously,  the  Infant  and  the 
Adolescent.  The  latter  is  the  period  of  political  constitutions,  of 
sesthetical  arts,  and  of  inchoative  science;  the  former,  that  when 
all  these  things  are  still  spontaneous  and  rudimental. 

To  which  description  belongs  the  condition  of  the  Irish  nation, 
at  the  time  in  question? 

To  the  cai-lier,  the  Iiifant  epoch,  resJ)onds  the  English,  and,  indeed, 
the  general  opinion.  Tlie  Irish  had  no  political  organization  of  the 
entire  people.  They  had  at  best  but  a  hierarchy  of  chieftains,  an 
organization  of  personaJitij,  and  plunder  under  the  name  of  tribute. 
They  had  manifestly  no  arts,  excepting  music  and  poetry,  and  these 
but  in  a  primitive  condition.  Of  science,  in  fine,  they  were  destitute 
utterly.  In  short,  so  far  were  they  from  civilization,  of  even  the 
Conscious  or  second  stage,  tliat  they  had  not  yet  the  institution  that 
gives  it  origin,  and  also  name ;  for,  except  Dublin,  which  seems  besides 
to  have  been,  from  earlie.-t  times,  a  foreign  colony,  the  Irish  had  not 
a  single  city  of  any  consequence  throughout  the  island.  They  lived 
dispersed  over  plain  and  mountain  as  agriculturists,  and,  more  com- 
monly, shepherds;  they  were,  therefore,  not  indeed  quite  savages, 
but  still  barbarians.  This,  we  say,  is  the  most  general  opinion  out- 
side of  Iitland. 

The  Irish  deny  all  this  indignantly,  and  denounce  it  calumny; 
and  the  scholars  of  impartial  Europe,  and  more  especially  of  France, 
are  coming  to  yield  som.e  countenance  to  the  protest.  They 
appeal  to  the  frequent  testimony  of  contemporary  writers;  to  the 
records  of  their  literature,  of  their  arts,  and  of  their  laws.  Let  us 
briefly  take  the  deposition  of  those  monumental  writings. 

AUTHORS. 

Selecting  the  best  informed,  the  most  ancient,  we  believe,  is  Cresar, 
who  says  that  the  Druiils  (as  well  of  Ireland,  of  course,  as  of  Gaul 
and  Larger  Britain)  had  a  knowledge  of  Greek  letters,  and  employed 
the  language  for  public  records.   .The  passage  has,  however,  been 


1853.]  Civilization  of  Ireland.  407 

called  iu  question.  It  is  said  to  be  an  interpolation  by  the  famous 
or  infamous  Celsus,  -ft-ho  certainly  could  serve  a  purpose,  a  double 
purpose,  by  the  device.  Por,  besides  the  patriotic  one  of  exalting  his 
country's  learning,  he  had  also  the  controversial  one  of  depressing 
the  Jewish  pretensions  put  forth  by  Origen,  his  adversary,  to  give 
character  to  Clnistianity.  And,  ([uile  accordingly,  the  answer  of 
this  very  erudite  father  was,  that  he  was  not  aware  the  Druids  had 
the  knowledge  of  any  letters  whatsoever. 

Claudian  introduces  Britain  returning  thanks  to  a  Roman  general 
for  having  rescued  her  from  an  Irish  invasion,  in  these  words : — 

Me  quoque  ^^■dnis  pcrcuntcm  pontibus,  inquit, 
Munivit  Stilico,  totiim  cum  Scotus  lernen 
Movit,  et  htfcsto  spumavit  raitige  Tluiijs. 

Ireland  menacing  England  and  moving  ocean  with  a  fleet  I  "What  a 
notion  of  their  ancient  greatness  must  not  such  a  record  give  an  op- 
pressed people,  who  have,  for  centuries  back,  seen  and  suffered  from 
the  sad  reverse.  A  fleet  tlie  Irisli  had  undoubtedly,  when  England  was 
without  one,  and  which  might  thus,  however  rude,  inspire  the  terror 
the  poet  describes.  But  it  was  merely  such  a  fleet  as  the  savage 
pirates  of  the  IS^orth  had  often  tcn-ified  both  England  and  Ireland 
with ;  and,  like  theirs,  it  was  copied  from  the  Greeks  or  Romans.  In 
fact,  the  vessels  were  no  more  than  a  mass  of  planks  or  trees,  tied 
together,  like  a  raft  but  nidely  shaped  into  a  concave  forai.  and 
covered  over  (for  all  caiilking)  vatli  oxhides  on  the  outside.  Hence 
the  Irish  name  of  comch ;  no  doubt,  from  corium,  the  Latin  for 
hide.  And,  besides,  tlie  art  of  navigation  is  among  the  earliest  to 
be  developed,  and  is,  tlierefore,  no  criterion  of  a  high  civilization. 

Passing  downward  to  the  seventh  century,  Ave  meet  the  best 
known,  perhaps,  of  all  the  testimonies,  that  of  the  learned  Italian 
Bishop  Donatus,  whose  elegant  eulogy  uj)on  the  arts  and  the  antiquities 
of  Ireland  is  too  familiar  to  need  citation,  and  will  be  designated 
by  the  openmg  lines : — 

Far  westwar-l  lies  an  islo  of  ancient  fame, 
By  nature  bless'd,  and  tvotia  is  her  name; 
Her  teeming  fields  arc  frau^'ht  with  bearded  corn  ; 
Arms  and  arts  her  euvievl  .sons  adorn,  <i-c.,  «tc. 

But  the  value  of  this  testimony  is,  of  course,  relative,  like  the  pre- 
ceding, and  depends  upon  the  notion  which  an  Italian  ecclesiastic, 
however  erudite,  could  have,  in  that  ago,  of  cither  arts  or  anti- 
quity. We  know  the  arts  were  all  comprised  in  the  qxiadrivium 
and  the  trivium  ;  and  that  ethnology  went  no  higher  than  the  twelve 
tribes  of  Israel. 


408  The  Heathen  and  Medieval  [July, 

The  antiquity  is,  however,  voiichcd  for  by  another  -vrriter,  and  of 
an  earlier  age,  who  himself  refers  it  to  the  authority  (which  he  calls 
then  ancient)  of  the  Greek  geographers.  The  following  is  from 
Festus  Avienus : — 

Ast  hinc  duobis  in  Sacrum,  sic  insulam 
DixQTn  prisci,  soli  bus  cursus  rati  est: 
Haec  inter  uiulas  inultum  cespitem  jacit, 
Eamque  late  gens  Ilibcrnorum  colit. 

It  appears  then  that  the  "  Isle  of  Saints  "  is  not  a  modem  or  Christian 
title ;  but  that  Ireland  was  called  the  Holy  Island  in  remote  heathen 
antiquit}'.  But  whether  this  species  of  sanctity  implies  science,  or 
even  civilization,  we  must  leave  Ireland  and  experience  to  decide. 

From  the  eighth  to  the  twelfth  century  the  passages  are  numerous 
in  attestation  of  the  preomincnce  of  Irish  letters.  For  instance 
Sulgenus,  at  the  latter  epoch,  although  an  Englishman,  writes  the 
follo-ffiug : — 

Excmplo  patntm,  comniotus  amore  legendi, 
Ivit  Dxi  Hilxrnos,  sophia  mirabili  daros. 

Here  is  argument  that  it  was  the  Irish  who  civilized  the  English. 
But  what  was  understond  in  those  days  by  "  admirable  learning," 
may  be  iiifeiTcd  from  t!ic  famous  ej»ithets  bestowed  upon  their 
doctors,  of  "  admirable,"  "  angelic,"  "  inexpugnable,"  "  irrefragable," 
6cc.  The  latter  brings  to  mind  a  better  evidence  of  Irish  eminence 
than  all  the  declarations  of  all  the  writers  of  all  such  ages — we  mean 
the  living  foct  of  Scotus,  tlie  "  irrefragable  doctor."  ]S!"ot,  however, 
for  being  irrefragable,  as  will  be  noted  in  the  sequel. 

The  best  citation  which  we  stop  to  make  is  from  the  much  later 
but  learned  Mosheim — whom,  however,  the  Irish  do  not  adduce,  we 
think,  perhaps  because  he  was  a  heretic.  With  others,  on  the  con- 
trary, this  fact  will  only  enhance  his  credit.  To  be  praised  by  the 
praiseworthy  was  Cicero's  test  of  merit ;  but  to  be  praised  by  an 
enemy,  and  a  religious  enemy,  is  something  higher.  The  excellent 
author  of  the  Ecclesiastical  History  says  of  Ireland  in  the  eighth 
century:  "That  the  Hibernians  were  lovers  of  learning,  and  dis- 
tinguished themselves  in  those  times  of  ignorance  by  the  culture  of 
the  sciences  (  !  )  beyond  all  other  European  nations — travelling  the 
most  distant  lands  with  a  view  to  improve  and  communicate  their 
knowledge— is  a  fact  with  which  I  have  been  long  acquainted,  as  we 
see  them  in  the  most  authentic  records  of  antiquity  discharging  with 
the  highest  reputation  and  a])plause  the  function  of  doctors  in  France, 
GeiTQany,  and  Ital}',  both  during  this  and  the  following  century. 
But  that  these  Hibernians  were  the  first  teachers  of  scholastic 


1853.]  Civilization  of  Ireland.  409 

theology  in  Europe,  and  so  early  as  the  eighth  century  illustrated 
the  doctrines  of  religion  by  the  principles  of  philosophy,  I  learned 
but  lately  from  the  testimony  of  Benedict,  Abbot  of  Aniane,  in  the 
province  of  Languedoc,  who  lived  in  this  period,  Occ."  He  also  adds  : 
"  The  Irish,  \s\xo  in  the  eighth  century  were  known  by  the  name  of 
Scots,  were  the  only  divines  who  refused  to  dishonour  their  reason 
by  submitting  it  implicitly  to  the  dictates  of  authority;  naturally 
subtle  and  sagacious,  they  applied  their  philosophy  to  the  illustration 
of  the  truths  and  doctrines  of  religion — a  method  which  was  generally 
abhorred  and  exploded  in  all  the  other  nations." 

Here  precisely — although  this  writer  of  some  two  centui-les  back 
does  not  sec  it — here  is  the  seat  of  the  real  distinction  and  true 
source  of  the  fame  of  Ireland.  Irishmen  alone  applied  philosophy 
to  religion.  But  they  did  so,  not  because  they  were  more  civilized 
than  France  and  Italy;  but  because  they  were  more  free — and  more 
free,  because  more  remote  from  the  crushing  centre  of  the  mental 
incubus  that  pressed  in  those  days  upon  southern  Europe  so  as  to 
stupify  the  human  intellect  and  keep  it  to  rosaries  and  recitations. 
How  full  of  reflection  is  the  contrast  of  Ireland's  position  towards 
Rome  at  that  day— all  "  dark  "  though  the  day  be  deemed — with  that 
she  occupies  at  present !  And  a  contrast  no  less  striking,  but  more 
encouraging,  is  tliis.  Pelagius  and  Seotus  Erigena  were  damned  as 
heretics  by  their  respective  ages ;  in  ours,  they  are  appealed  to  by 
many  as  the  greatest  glories  of  their  age  and  nation.  ^Yhy  ?  Because 
they  alone  applied  philosupJn/  to  religion :  that  is  to  say,  were  reform- 
ers, were  emancipators  of  the  human  intellect.  This  then  is  as 
sure  a  road  to  the  barren  applau.sos  of  posterity  as  its  conservative 
opposite  is  to  the  honours  of  the  jiresent  hour.  We  admit  the 
consolation  is  a  poor  one  to  a  man  of  sense ;  but  no  better  can  be 
offered  to  those  whom  nature  has  infected  with  what  is  termed,  in 
our  Southern  States,  the  "  disease  of  the  large  head." 

The  preceding  gives  a  sufiicient  abstract  of  the  evidence  from 
testimony  for  the  early  civilization  of  the  Irish.  We  should  add 
that  otherauthorsmight.be  cited  on  the  .opposite  side,  from,  perhaps, 
all  of  the  same  ages  and  in  equal  number.  For  instance,  Strabo 
describes  the  Irish  as  cannibals  and  root-eaters.  And  alas !  are  they 
not  root-eaters  to  this  day?  And  what,  again,  are  their  fierce  dis- 
sensions, their  mutual  hatreds  and  persecutions,  but  a  moral  form 
of  the  ancient  physical  cannibalism  V 

However,  let  us  pass  to  the  ne.\t  article  of  proof,  by  which  the 
Irish  would  evince  their  early  civilization,  wluch  is  their 

Fourth  Series,  Vol.  V.— 20 


410  The  Heathen  and  McdicBval  EJuly, 


LITERATURE. 

The  alleged  literature  is  even  still  almost  entirely  in  manuscript, 
and  thus  its  antiquity,  Avhethcr  absolute  or  relative,  is  a  previous 
question.  By  impartial  connoisseurs  in  parchment  and  chronological 
chirography,  the  records  are  allo^Ycd,  in  large  part,  to  be  both  ancient 
and  authentic.  The  extant  manuscripts,  however,  none  of  them, 
go  further  back,  it  seems,  than  the  tenth  century.  But  very  many 
of  them  are  plainly  cojiics,  and  perhaps  from  other  copies  -VN-hich 
themselves  had  been  supplying  for  centuries  the  outworn  originals. 
There  can,  at  all  events,  be  tlicn  no  doubt  that  a  large  proportion 
of  the  contents  must  have  ranged  far  back  along  the  ample  period 
we  have  assigned  in  the  investigation.  And  besides,  the  lower  they 
dated,  the  higher  the  civilization  which  must  be  indicated  by  their 
intellectual  character,  and  the  more  favourable  thus  the  test  to  the 
affirmative  and  Irish  side. 

But  the  general  character  of  the  whole  literature,  as  well  the  more 
modem  as  the  ancient,  belongs  exclusively  to  either  chronicle  or 
poetry. 

The  chi-onicles  are  more  tlian  usually  meagre  of  circumstance 
and  composition,  and  consist  of  little  more  than  genealogies  and 
dates.  But  on  these  things,  the  particularity  and  primordiality  leave 
nothing  to  ask  for.  For  cxamjtle,  the  aboriginal  immigration  into 
the  island  is  duly  rogi.-^tcrcd  as  having  occurred  just  "forty  days 
before  the  flood;"  and  further,  that  it  was  ''■  the  fifteenth  of  the  moon';" 
and  to  be  still  nicer,  that  the  day  fell  "upon  the  sabbath."  We  are 
also  given  the  statistics  of  this  antediluvian  immigration,  which  was 
composed,  it  seems,  of  •'  tln-ee  men  and  fifty  girls  :"  a  disproportion 
which  makes  one  surmi.-o  it  i]i<i  Irishman's  version  of  Eden.  And 
then,  in  pedigree,  those  Irish  annals  go  back  to  Noah,  if  not  to  Adam. 
They  detail  you,  with  name  and  date,  an  unbroken  line  of  Irish 
mouarchs,  to  the  number  of  one  hundred  and  thirty- six  before 
St.  Patrick,  and  of  whom  they  also  record  the  fall  of  no  less  than 
a  hundred  in  the  ficM  of  battle.  To  this  heathen  list  are  superadded 
some  forty-eight  Christian  kings,  the  line  concluding  in  the  eleventh 
centuiy  with  Jirian  Boroihme.  And  these  were  monarchs  "of  all 
Ireland ;"  not  including  the  provincial  kings,  who,  though  they  must 
be  without  number,  are  yet  all  chronicled  with  like  assurance. 

In  the  Christian  times,  when  war  became  sufficiently  unfamiliar  not 
to  seem  to  the  Irish  annalist,  as  it  did  to  Ilobbes,  the  state  of  nature, 
the  date  of  battles  and  the  death  of  bishops  are  found  the  most 
conspicuous  topics,  and  the  style  makes  some  pretence  to  composi- 
tion.    Take  the  following  as  a  specimen  of  what  would  seem  the 


1853.3  Civilization  of  Ireland.  411 

fit  forerunner  of  a  sort  of  eloquence  a  little  distinctive  of  the 
nation  in  later  times :  "  Died,  etc.,  -Murray  Cofley,  Bishop  of  Derry, 
and  Raphoe,  a  son  of  chastity,  a  precious  stone,  a  transparent  gem, 
a  brilliant  star,  a  treasury  of  wisdom,  a  faithful  branch  of  the  canon- 
law,  (fcc."  This  is  taken  from  a  compihition  called  the  Annals  of 
the  Four  Masters,  the  latest,  and  we  believe  the  most  comprehensive 
in  Irish  literature,  and  also  its  maturcst  sample,  being  composed 
in  prose;  -whereas  all  the  earlier  chronicles  are  written  in  verse. 
These  -will,  therefore,  fall  conveniently  for  specific  review,  and  in 
relation  to  the  form,  under  the  second  head  of  Poetry;  and  again, 
this  head  of  Poetry  under  the  general  title  of 


Poetry.  The  earliest  extant  scraps  of  Irish  poetry  as  well  as 
letters  are  three  poems,  ascril)ed  to  Amcrgin,  who  is  also  said  to  have 
been  the  earliest  writer  of  the  country,  and  was  brother  of  Ire,  the 
leader  of  the  Milesian  colony  from  S|»ain.  This  primordiality  is 
recorded  by  a  native  annalist  in  tlie  following  couplet:— 

Primus  Amergin\is  Gonu-^au'lidus  auctorlernfc, 
Historicus,  judex  lege,  poeta,  tJOjiLus. 

Here  we  sec  Irish  literature  and  genius  spring  forth  full-anned,  in 
all  their  provinces,  at  all  points,  like  the  Grecian  Pallas,  from  the 
very  first;  and  this  first,  be  it  remembered,  at  the  lowest  date,  was 
coeval  with  Solomon.  'J'his  sort  of  universality  is,  however,  an 
intrinsic  evidence  of  the  antiquity,  real  or  relative,  of  the  personage. 
Precisely  the  same  qualities  were  given  to  Solon,  to  Trisme"-istus, 
and  even  to  Alfred.  It  is  the  true  traditional  type  of  the  primitive 
prominent  author,  Avho  is  always,  by  ronfrtsion,  what  developed 
genius  is  by  comprehensiveness,  to  wit.  "  historian,  bard,  philosopher 
combined."  The  epithet  of  "fiir-kneed"  would  seem  similarly 
characteristic,  and  reminds  one  of  the  gollen-thighed  Pythagoras. 

It  is  clear,  however,  that  Amergin  cannot  be  the  author  of  the 
pieces  in  question;  for  one  of  thorn  makos  allusion  to  the  famous 
palace  of  Tara,  which  was  not  erect i'<l  for  several  ages  later,  and 
after  the  full  establishment  of  the  sai^l  Milesian  dynasty.  Still, 
their  high  antiquity  is  manifest.  Tlu>  dialect  is  underlined,  in  the 
MSS.,  with  a  gloss,  which  itself  is,  ngain,  become  somewhat  obsolete 
to  modern  scholars,  and  in  some  part-'  is  to  be  read  from  bottom  to 
top.  But  whatever  be  the  author  or  the  age  assigned  to  the  contents, 
these  productions  are  of  small  consequence  for  either  length  or  com- 
position. One  consists  of  two  raiins,  or  oiglit  verses,  that  is,  lines. 
Another,  of  twenty  verses,  or  five  stan;cas  or  rauns.     And  the  third 


412  77je  Heathen  and  Mediceval  [July, 

has  six  raims,  or  twenty-four  lines.    The  subject  is  in  all  military — 
a  confirmation  of  their  antiquity. 

There  is  also  another  ancient  piece,  ascribed  to  the  same 
Amergin,  and  preserved  in  the  "  Scabright  Collection"  in  Trinity 
College,  Dublin.  The  proof  of  the  imputed  authorship  is  founded 
on  the  opening  line,  -which  runs :  "  I  am  Amergin  Glunzel  (white- 
kneed)  of  the  hoary  head  and  the  gray  beard."  But  the  declara- 
tion is,  on  the  contrary,  a  fair  presumption  of  naive  imposture. 
And  the  suspicion  is  confirmed  by  the  subject  of  the  poem,  which 
is  no  other  than  "  The  Qualifications  of  a  Bard."  This  is  too  self- 
conscious  and  systematic  for  an  early  epoch.  Men  sing  for  many 
ages  before  bethinking  them  of  asking  how;  and  in  all  things, 
gay  or  gi-ave,  the  arts  are  ripe  before  the  rules  are  gathered. 
Still  the  author  wrote  in  character  when  he  suggests  in  the  bards  of 
those  days  the  now  remarkable  "  qualifications  "  of  a  hoary  head  and 
a  gi-ay  beard.  For  to  the  contrary  of  modern  times,  it  is  well  known 
that  in  primitive  ages,  in  Greece  as  well  as  Ireland,  in  Anakrcon 
as  in  Amergin,  old  age  was  thought  to  brighten,  instead  of  damping 
the  poet's  fire.  It  is,  perhaps,  that  the  head,  in  those  times,  continued 
childish  to  the  last  interiorl}^ — unlike  the  ivied  ruin,  so  earnestly 
sung  by  the  modern  poet : — 

"All  green  and  gay  -ffitbout,  but  worn  and  gray  beneath." 

To  the  same  epoch  (A.  M.  i!rt,35)  is  refen-ed  another  poem  in  the 
same  Collection  of  Irish  MSS.,  and  of  which  the  author  (we  forget 
his  name)  is  said  to  be  the  son-in-law  of  Milesius.  The  subject  is  a 
lament  on  the  death  of  his  wife.  The  next  in  assigned  order  dates 
less  than  a  century  before  Christ,  and  is  ascribed  to  Congal,  (Atiglice 
Connell,  the  g  gliding  into  i/,)  son  to  the  monarch  of  that  period, 
and  also  author  of  a  book  of  laws.  This  poem,  too,  is  a  lament,  and 
is  duly  longer  as  being  later,  though  not  extending  to  over  thirty- 
four  verses.  The  cxtei-nal  or  material  evidence  of  high  antiquity 
seems  undoubted;  and  the  mental  test  of  topic  is  quite  accordant. 
For  these  laments  are  the  primitive  form  of  the  lyric  order  of  poetry' ; 
as  witness  their  present  prevalence  among  the  rudest  classes  of  the 
same  people.  The  finest  extant  piece  of  this  description  is,  however, 
attributed  to  a  later  age ;  we  mean  the  famous  "  Lament  of  Cuchalliu," 
a  Fenian  hero  of  the  third  century,  over  the  body  of  his  dead  son, 
■who  had  been  slain  by  the  father's  hand.  And,  the  story  being  no 
doubt  fictitious,  the  composition  should  date  much  lower. 

The  same  remark,  as  to  the  mental  primitiveness  but  much 
restricted  antiquity,  might  be  applied  to  another  poem  which  is 
refen-ed  to  the  above  age,  and  is  a  sort  of  Mclibaan  contention 


1853.3  Civilization  of  Ireland.  413 

between  two  sages,  in  dialogue.  For  this  is  the  poetry  of  the  shep- 
herd state — as  witness  its  origin  on  the  {Sicilian  Mountains,  and  the 
language  as  well  as  manners  of  most  primitive  simplicity,  which 
remain  its  character  along  from  Theocritus  down  to  Gesner  and 
Shenstone.  This  Irish  specimen  belongs,  however,  much  more 
proximately  t«  the  same  age  than  one  or  two  others,  more  elaborate, 
which  are  attributed  to  Ossian,  and  consequently  fall  below  at  least 
the  third  century.  These  are  the  poems  entitled  severally,  "  J^Iagnus 
the  Great"  and  "  The  Chase."  And  as  they  are,  we  believe,  the 
finest  and  most  popular  in  Irish  literature,  we  may  overstep  chronol- 
ogy to  note  their  intellectual  character.  For  brevity,  however,  we 
must  limit  our  notice  to  "  The  Chase,"  which  proceeds  in  dialogue, 
as  does  the  other,  between  O'ssian  and  St.  Patrick. 

It  is  a  piece  of  some  three  hundred  and  fifty  lines  in  the  original,  and 
turns  on  a  feat  of  magical  incantation.  Fionn  Mac  Comhal,  the  father 
of  Ossian,  and  chief  of  the  Fenian  heroes — a  band  of  Irish  Knights- 
Templars  of  the  third  and  fourth  centuries — gave,  one  day,  in  his 
palace  of  xVlwyn,  an  entertainment  to  his  followers,  in  the  course  of 
which  he  left  the  hall  to  take  the  air.  As  he  stood  on  a  hill  hard  by, 
he  was  passed  by  a  milkwhite  doe,  which  the  habitual  hunter  could 
not  resist  the  temptation  of  pursuing,  with  his  famous  wolf-dog?. 
He  follows  her  from  Kildare  to  the  banks  of  Loughsliieve  in  Ulster. 
where  the  doe  is  ijietamorphoscd  into  a  beautiful  woman  in  tears. 
The  hero  asks  her  sorrow,  and  ofTers  hi.-;  assistance.  He  is  told  that 
she  has  dropped  a  ring  in  the  lake.  Forgetting  or  disregarding  in 
the  ardour  of  his  gallantry  a  certain  tnulition,  that  any  one  bathing 
in  the  waters  became  instantly  oM,  he  plmiged  in,  recovered  the  ring, 
but  could  scarce  return  a  crawling  spectre  to  the  shore.  In  this 
plight  he  is  found  by  his  companions,  who  had  come  in  search  of 
him.  What  they  see,  he  tells  them  has  been  done  by  a  celebrated 
enchantress  who  kept  her  cave  in  an  adjacent  hill.  This  they  besiege 
furiously,  and  compel  the  occupant  to  prepare  their  chief  a  draught 
which  at  once  restores  him  to  his  former  vigour.  Such  is  the 
story  which  St.  Patrick  is  supposed  to  ask  Ossian  to  relate  him. 

The  poem,  however,  has  a  long  preliminary  dispute  between  the 
saint  and  the  bard  as  to  the  grcatucss  of  the  Celtic  hero  and  the 
Christian  God.  To  prove  the  glories  of  the  latter,  St.  Patrick  points 
triumphantly  to  the  wonders  of  the  vegetable  world  that  bloomed 
around  them.     To  this  the  heroic  heathen  replies  :— 

It  was  not  on  a  fruit  or  fiovror 

My  king  his  can-  l^-tow'd ; 
He  better  know  to  sliow  his  p^jwer 

In  honour's  glorious  road. 


414  The  Heathen  and  Mediaeval  [July, 

To  load  with  doatb  the  hostile  field  ; 

In  blood  bis  Diight  proclaim  ; 
Our  land  with  wide  protection  shield, 

And  wing  to  heaven  his  fame,  &:c. 

Then  he  goes  on  to  allude  to  the  battles  fought  in  this  protection, 
and  asks  the  saint,  in  relation  to  such,  what  the  God  he  boasts  of 
had  done  in  those  days  for  the  cause  of  Ireland,  of  justice,  or  of 
bravery : — 

"While  round  the  bravest  Fcnii  bled, 

No  help  did  he  bestow; 
'T  was  Osgar's  arm  avenged  the  dead, 

And  gave  the  glorious  blow. 

Thy  Godhead  did  not  aid  us  then  :— 

If  such  a  God  there  be, 
He  should  liave  favour'd  gallant  men 

As  great  and  good  as  he,  &c. 

Not  bj  thy  God  in  single  fight, 

Those  deathful  heroes  fell; 
But  by  Fiona's  arm,  whose  matchless  might 

Could  every  force  repel. 

In  every  mouth  his  fame  we  meet, 

Well  known  and  well  believed:— 
I  have  not  heard  of  any  feat 

Thy  cloudy  king  achieved.  *  , 

Nettled  at  this  rather  sharp  though  simple  argumentation,  the 
saint  breaks  into  anger,  and  answers  quite  abusively.  Ossian, 
however,  rejoins  with  the  same  generous  heroism  :— 

If  God  then  rules,  why  is  the  chief 

Of  Comhal's  generous  race 
To  fieuds  consign'd,  without  relief 

From  justice  or  from  grace  ? 

When,  were  thy  God  himself  confined, 

My  king  of  mild  renown 
Would  quickly  all  his  chains  unbind. 

And  give  him  back  his  crown. 

The  apostle  here  seems  softened,  and  requests  the  poet  to  proceed 
to  the  story.  The  maid  into  whom  the  doe  was  metamorphosed 
is  thus  described : — 

Then  he  beheld  a  weeping  fair 

Upon  a  bank  reclined. 
In  whose  fine  form  and  graceful  air 

Was  every  charm  combined. 


1853.]  Civilization  of  Ireland.  415 

In  her  soft  cheek,  with  tender  bloom, 

The  rose  its  tint  bcstowM  ; 
And  in  her  richer  lips'  perfume 

The  ripen'd  berry  glow'd. 

Her  neck  was  as  the  blossom  fair, 

Or  like  the  cygnet's  breast, 
With  that  majestic  craceful  air 

In  snow  and  softness  drest 

Gold  gave  its  rich  and  radiant  die, 
,      ■        And  in  her  tro«ses  liow'd; 

And,  like  tlie  freezing  star,  her  eye 
With  heaven's  own  splendour  glow'd. 

Thyself,  0  Patrick  !  hadst  thou  seen 

The  charms  that  face  display'd, 
That  tender  form  and  graceful  mien, 

Thyself  had  loved  the  maid. 

This  assuredly  beats  the  famous  compliment  to  Helen's  beauty 
by  the  aged  Priam.  The  \\-hole  description  is  unexcelled  by  any 
poet.  But  the  comparison  of  the  "freezing  star"  has  a  felicity 
moreover  local;  and  this  both  as  respects  the  appearance  of  the 
object  itself  through  an  Irish  atmos{)horc  and  the  quite  peculiar  azure 
of  an  Irish  ^voman's  eye.  It  is  remarkable  that  this  colour  is  found 
in  Ireland  to  accompany  not  only  f  lir.  as  in  all  countries,  but  even 
the  most  coal-black  hair.  It  is  the  mock  and  magical  azure  of  the 
Irish  female  eye  to  which  the  French,  Mith  a  quaint  significance, 
apply  the  epithet  "  terrible." 

The  companions  of  Fionu,  Mhile  in  search  of  him,  meet  a  deci-epit 
old  man,  and 

Ask  him  had  he  seen  the  chase — 

Two  hounds  tliat  snuflM  the  gale. 
And  a  bold  chief  of  princely  grace,  i 

Swift  bounding  o'er  the  vale. 

He  drops  his  head  in  shame,  and  only  whispers  his  identity. 

With  terror  struck,  agba.st  ^nd  pale. 

Three  sudden  shouts  we  gave, —  ^ 

Affrighted  badgers  Jlcd  the  vale, 

And  trembling  sought  the  cavt. 

They  then  vovr  to  bring  the  sorceress  to  terms,  and  beset  her  den 
for  eight  whole  days  :— 

Then  forth  the  fair  enchantress  came 

Swift  issuing  to  the  light. 
The  form  of  grace,  the  beauteous  dame, 

With  charms  too  great  for  sight. 


416  The  Heathen  and  Mediaeval  [July, 

A  cup  quite  full  she  trembling  bore 

To  Eriu's  altor'd  chief, 
That  could  his  pristine  form  restore, 

And  heal  his  people's  grief. 

He  drunk  .  .  .  0  joy !  his  former  grace, 

His  former  powers  return'd, 
Again  with  Kauty  glow'd  his  face, 

His  breast  vfith  valour  burn'd. 
0!  "when  we  saw  his  kindling  eye 

With  wonted  lustre  glow, 
Not  all  the  sloriet  of  thy  sky 

Such  transport  could  bestow,  &:c. 

Now,  Patrick,  of  the  scanty  store 

And  luciigre-lookiug  face, 
Say,  didst  thou  ever  hear  before 

This  memorable  chase? 

This  is  true  poetry ;  but  it  owes  its  excellence  to  the  age  of  sim- 
plicity, of  semi-barbarism  ■\\liich  produced  it:  also,  we  imagine,  some- 
what to  the  temperament  of  the  Irish.  This  will  be  better  discerned 
if  we  contrast  it,  for  instance,  in  point  of  delicacy,  with  the  similar 
ballad  of  Chevy  Chase.  It  has  nothing  of  the  vulgar  tone  and 
the  brutal  bluntness  of  this  fine  old  ballad.  The  Chase  of  Ossian 
is  suffused  with  the  most  exquisite  combination  of  that  gentlemanly 
sentipicnt  and  infantile  simplicity  which  constituted  the  ideal  of  a 
medicoval  knight.  The  poem  belongs,  accordingly,  most  probably 
to  this  period.  "\Vc  should  add,  that  the  exceedingly  spirited 
version,  above  quoted,  is  by  Miss  Brooks. 

Then  follows— that  is,  according  to  the  Irish  antiquaries,  but, 
as  we  conceive,  precedes—^  poem  of  one  hundred  and  fifty-six 
verses,  of  which  the  character  is  genealogical,  and  the  subject  or 
the  object  the  celcbratiun  uf  the  royal  family  of  Connaught.  This 
is  certainly  anterior,  at  least  in  development,  if  not  also  in  date. 
It  marks  the  primary  or  the  popular  commencement  of  epic  poetry, 
which  itself  precedes  the  lyric  in  even  its  first  and  funereal  form. 
The  true  historical  successor  to  this  is  the  didactic,  which,  in  turn, 
'is  the  rudimental  form  of  the  drama. 

And  in  fiict,  in  the  chronological  an-angemcnt  by  Irish  authors, 
the  next  production  is  entitled  "  Precepts  to  a  King."  It  is  naturally 
in  a  fragmentary  shape.  But  there  are  also  short  poems  of  the  same 
description  deemed  contemporaneous.  This  then  was  the  mental 
epoch  which  the  ancient  Greeks  called  "  Gnomic,"  and  it  reached  its 
Irish  acme  at  the  commencement  of  the  third  century,  in  the  rei^^n 
of  Cormac  Mac  Art,  a  sort  of  Hibernian  Pisistratus,  who  himself 
wrote  a  book  of  precepts,  which  is  in  verse  and  preserved  entire. 


1853.]  Civilization  of  Ireland.  417 

To  this  age,  too— though  the  Irish  say  earlier— appertains  a  relic 
which  were  really  wonderful,  unles3  its  character  (as  we  conjecture) 
has  been  entirely  misconceived.  J  t  is  called  "  Precepts  of  the  Poets ;" 
and  the  Irish  patriots  thence  assume  that  their  literature  had  a 
Horace  almost  as  early  as  Rome  herself.  But  in  the  absence  of 
all  specific  acc^uaintance  with  the  piece  itself,  we  must  suspect  that 
they  have  misinterpreted  the  title,  and  thus  converted  into  an  "  Art 
of  Poetry,"  what  is  but  a  collection  of  miscellaneous  precepts  com- 
posed bij  and  not  for  the  poets  or  wise  men.  liesiod  Avould,  there- 
fore, doubtless,  be  a  fitter  parallel  than  Horace. 

We  are  now  verging  upon  more  famous,  if  scarce  less  fabulous 
times.  This  royal  author,  (and  it  is  remarkable  that  Irish  authors 
were,  down  to  this  period,  almost  all  royal  or  at  least  connected 
with  royal  families — to  the  reverse  of  modern  times,  when 
such  are  much  more  commonly  idiots,)  this  Cormac,  we  say,  was 
father-in-law  to  the  renowned  Fionn  .Mac  Comhal,  the  personage 
we  have  just  heard  celebrated  by  his  still  more  renowned  son.  From 
this  proximity,  it  has  been  urged,  against  the  antique  claims  of  the 
modem  Ossian,  that  if  ^Macphcrson's  poems  were  genuine,  the 
origmals  must  be  coincident  in  point  of  dialect  with  the  productions 
ascribed  to  Copmac.  But  while  the  latter  are  incomprehensible  to 
all,  except  the  ripest  Cetticists,  the  MSS.  published  by  the  Highland 
Society  are  said  to  be  plain  to  the  least  learned  reader.  The  argu- 
ment seems  crudely  inconclusive.  For,  not  only  by  oral  tradition, 
but  even  by  successive  copyists,  the  dialect  would,  of  coiuse,  be 
modified  to  suit  the  age.  ^Vhcther  the  poems  Avere  really  Ossian  s, 
in  whole  or  in  part,  we  need  not  canvass.  The  pieces  above  ascribed 
to  him,  and  which  are  certainly  witliin  our  period,  say  quite  as  much 
and  perhaps  more  in  behalf  of  Irish  civilization.  We  merely  add 
that  the  fourth  century  is  the  true  epoch  of  the  Celtic  Homer,  and 
the  last  and  highest  of  Irish  letters  as  of  heathenism. 

With  St.  Patrick,  and  Christianity,  were  recommenced,  upon  the 
new  theme,  the  same  succession  of  poetic  forms,  and  first  biographies 
and  hymns.  The  biographical  or  epic  stage  is  engrossed  by  versified 
Lives  of  Saints.  The  lyrical  is  represented  by  the  compilations 
tQi-medi psalters,  and  named  after  various  particular  localities;  such 
as  the  Psalter  of  Cashel,  of  Cloghcr.  of  Tara,  iScc.  The  didactic  is 
represented  in  the  posterior  Collections,  not  of  "  Precepts  for  Kiiigs" 
or  "  poets,"  but  of  "  Rules  for  monks  and  nuns." 

The  poetic  efforts  after  this  and  down  along  to  the  eleventh  century 
resume  the  epic  form,  but  on  broader  ground.  They  sing  the  origin 
of  families,  the  event  of  battles,  the  eminence  of  dynasties,  invasions 
of  Ireland,  &c.     This  is  the  date  and  the  description  of  the  longest 


418  The  Jieathen  and  MedicBval  [July, 

poem  encountered  hitherto,  and  the  longest,  we  believe,  of  entire 
Irish  literature ;  and  yet  it  counts  but  some  twelve  hundred  verses — 
the  highest  anterior  length  being  but  one-fourth.  JSIor,  such  as  it  is, 
docs  it  presuppose  a  quite  commensurate  invention,  if  only  we 
consider  its  abundant  subject.  This  was  no  other  than  the 
genealogy  of  all  the  sovcreigiis  of  antiquity,  Assyrian,  Persian, 
Grecian,  Roman,  <.\;c.  Here,  in  turn,  was  the  prelude  to  the  medley 
compilations  which  were  conglomerated  cyclopedically  during  the 
fifteenth  and  sixteenth  centuries,  and  have  been  designated  from 
the  family  or  personage  by  whom,  or  from  the  province  or  locality 
"where,  compiled.  For  instance,  the  "Book  of  the  O'Kellies;"  the 
"  Book  of  Leinster,"  "  of  Munstcr ;"  the  "  Book  of  Lecau  "  (Sligo), 
"of  Ballymore,"  tfcc.  The  last,  which  may  be  taken  as  a  sample  of 
the  genus,  is  a  hodge-podge  of  all  subjects,  up  to  Adam  and  Eve 
inclusive.  Commencing  with  this  proper  starting-point,  it  passes 
in  order,  or  rather  disorder,  down  to  Noah  and  each  of  his  sons; 
thence  to  the  siege  of  Tro}',  and  tlie  battles  of  Alexander,  and  thence 
to  a  panegyric  on  the  inothcrs  of  Irish  heroes.  The  article  last- 
mentioned  reminds  us  curiously  of  one  in  Hesiod,  entitled  similarly, 
on  the  "mothers  of  the  dcmi-gods."  The  books  themselves,  as 
above  suggested,  are  quite  analogous  throughout,  and  belong,  of  course, 
to  corresponding  stages  of  social  backwardness.  As  strikingly 
characteristic  of  such  an  age,  it  may  be  added  that  this  Book  of 
Ballymore  contains  a  statement,  in  a  marginal  note,  to  the  effect 
that  it  was  once  sold  for  one  hundred  and  forty  milch  cows.  Be  that 
as  it  may,  it  was  the  Inst  j^roduction  of  our  Irish  chronicular  poetry. 
Then  followed,  quite  accordingly,  the  bards  of  satire  and  conten- 
tion, those  usual  heralds  (.f  approaching  reason  and  revolution,  and 
which  are  always  observed  to  rise  on  the  decline  of  effete  literatures 
in  their  incipient  as  well  as  ultimate  developments.  Thus  the  fall 
of  Greek  letters  from  both  thoir  golden  and  silver  ages,  in  the  days 
of  Pericles  and  of  Alexandria,  was  announced  respectively  by 
Aristophanes  and  Lucian.  The  "Augustan  age"  declined  with  the 
rise  of  Juvenal  and  Persius.  The  Prench  one  of  Louis  the  Four- 
teenth, with  Bcaumarchais  and  Voltaire.  The  Spanish,  with  Cer- 
vantes and  Quevcdo.  The  English  epoch  of  Anne,  with  Swift,  Pope, 
and  Churchill.  And  the  Irish,  with  Tioge  Mac  Daire,  Lughaidh 
O'Clery,  Angus  0"Daly,  tfcc,  t^c.  You  laugh  at  these  outlandish 
names.  But  what,  we  ask  you,  do  they  lack  to  sound  as  sweetly 
as  the  others  ?  Merely  the  prestige  of  a  lofty  stage,  and  the  passage 
through  the  mouths  of  ages,  that  would  have  worn  down  their  seeming 
angularities.  Not  at  all,  perhaps,  poetic  genius,  and  still  less  satire; 
for  the  Irishman  is  by  nature  the  first  of  satirists :  he  has  fire, 


1853.]  Civilization  of  IrpJand.  419 

fierceness,   intensity,   acrimony,   subtlety — all   things,   except   re- 
finement. 

Concurrently  -with  this  transition  form,  from  the  versified  chronicle 
to  history  proper,  appeared  the  earliest  compilation  in  prose.  It  is 
the  -ffork  already  cited  as  the  "Uook  of  the  Four  Masters,"  but 
named  more  properly  "The  Annals  of  Dunagall."  It  was  com- 
menced in  1G32,  in  the  Franciscan  convent  of  that  place,  and  purports 
to  record  the  principal  occurrences  of  Irish  history,  down  from  the 
antediluvian  colonists  aforesaid.  iSot^Yithstanding  this  monkish 
extravagance,  (for  the  compilers,  of  course,  were  monks,)  which  is 
not  in  the  least  peculiar  to  Ireland,  this  register  does  contain  what 
is,  in  large  part,  peculiar  to  Ireland — a  complete,  consecutive,  and 
credible  body  of  national  annals,  extending  up,  from  the  period  named, 
as  high  at  least  as  the  Christian  era.  An  English  version  has  been 
recently  completed  in  Dublin,  under  the  auspices  of  one  of  the  hterary 
societies,  and  by  Dr.  O'Donovan,  one  of  the  few  remaining  great 
Erse  scholars.  With  the  Irish  text  and  coi)ious  notes  and  appendices 
by  the  translator,  it  fills  four  volumes  of  massive  quarto  dimensions. 
This  work  may  be  regarded  as  the  last  and  greatest  of  the  native 
literature,  and  was  followed  in  the  next  century  by  the  History  of 
Keating,  the  Irish  Herodotus. 

The  preceding  survey  of  Hish  Poetry,  in  its  specific  characters 
and  composition,  discloses  nothing,  down  to  the  twelfth  centuiy,  or 
even  to  the  seventeenth,  that  does  not  imply  the  comparative  infancy 
of  the  art.  This  conclusion  will  be  further  evident  when,  in  the 
sequel,  we  come  to  indicate  that  it  evinces  but  a  still  more  infant 
civilization. 

But,  although  this  were  true  of  the  topics  and  texture  of  the 
poems,  yet  the  metre,  urge  our  Irish  antiquaries,  is  unequalled  for 
its  mechanism;  and  metre  is  the  distinctive  attribute  of  poetry. 

We  fear  that  neither  of  these  positions  is  quite  tenable.  Metre  is 
but  the  form,  not  the  substance,  of  poetr}'.  It  is  consequently  the 
earliest  in  relative  proficiency  for  the  suflicient  reason  that  the 
necessity  for  it  is  earlier  and  more  urgent.  The  original  cause  of 
metre  is  the  need  of  the  primitive  intellect  for  a  rhythmical,  in  the 
necessary  absence  of  a  logical,  medium  of  connexion.  A  secondary 
aim  is  to  similarly  aid  the  infant  memory.  It  is  only  in  a  third  stage 
that,  like  all  the  arts  of  hard  utility,  it  blossoms  into  a  luxury,  an 
ornament  of  poetry.  Hence,  for  instance,  the  thousand  metres  that 
a.rose  in  the  middle  ages  to  meet  the  exigency  of  the  dissolution  of 
the  Latin  tongue  into  its  modem  dialects.  It  would  prove  nothing, 
then,  unless  indeed  the  very  contrary  to  what  is  sought — though  we 
admitted  the  allegation  in  behalf  of  Irish  poetry — that  it  possessed 


420  The  Hcnthcn  and  Mediaval  [July, 

before  the  Christian  era,  as  many  as  a  hundred  varieties  of  verse. 
The  Troubadoui'S,  &c.,  far  exceeded  this  number,  and  yet  the  agea 
to  which  they  belonged  arc  named  the  opposite  of  civilized.  We 
stigmatize  them  as  the  "  dark  "  ages  by  excellence. 

But  the  Irish  mechanism  is,  it  seems,  peculiar  and  preeminent. 
Now,  to  judge  from  even  the  highest  specimens  of  Irish  verse  above 
alluded  to,  -we  can  see  nothing  to  warrant  either  of  those  pretensions. 
The  measure  is,  in  almost  all  of  them,  the  same,  and  extremely  simple. 
The  alleged  peculiarity  consists,  however,  in  a  chime,  set  in  some 
cases  between  the  final  syllable  and  the  CKSura  of  each  line  or  verse ; 
in  others,  between  these  respectively  and  the  answering  syllables  in 
the  following  line ;  in  a  third  form,  the  respondence  is  alternate — 
alternate  as  between  the  syllables  of  either  each  of  the  lines  singly, 
or  also  of  each  pair  of  them  continued  in  the  strophe.  To  these 
three  progressive  forms  may  be  reduced,  in  the  last  analysis,  all  the 
mysiical  imbecilities  of  native  writers  on  the  subject.  We  further 
cite  an  example  of  such,  but  from  the  Latin  imitations — this  idiom 
being  less  unintelligible  to  our  readers  than  the  Erse. 

The  e.xample  of  the  hrst  and  rudest  of  these  forms  of  cantilena 
may  be  found  in  the  following  lines  from  a  hymn  by  one  Ultamus, 
a  bishop  of  the  seventh  century,  and  addressed  to  St.. Bridget: — 

Clxristus  ill  nostra  insula — qua)  Tocatur  Hibernia, 
Ostcnsus  est  hominibus — niaximis  mirabilibtw. 

Here  we  sec  that  the  emphasis  (in  contempt  of  profane  prosody) 
is  to  be  placed  upon  the  final  syllabic  both  of  the  line  and  the  ca3sm-a, 
and  the  consonance  confined  to  the  separate  lines.  And  this,  in 
accordance  with  its  primitive  place,  was  the  mode  appropriate  to 
chanting. 

The  syllabic  alternation  is  exemplified  in  the  following  couplet, 
by  Sedulius,  a  bishop  also  of  high  antiquity : — 

A  soils  ortus  cartlin? — ad  usque  terraa  limit«/i, 
Christum  canamus  principcm — natum  Maria  virgine. 

The  third  and  most  complex  specimen  has  been  constructed,  we 
believe,  on  purpose  to  display  this  superior  artifice  of  Irish  verse. 
The  meaning,  therefore,  or  Latinity,  should  not  be  anymore  scrutinized 
than  wc  do  the  schoolboy  exercitations  in  prosody : — 

Tc  (luce  Stat'  pnescns'  pax' — duJum'  dextera  pugnax  ; 
Das  bona'  niunera  mas' — funcra'  dona'  dabas, 
Phoebe'  libentei''  luce — gaudc'  parrula  voce; 
Alma'  puella'  place — Cure  duella'  doce. 


1853.]  Civilization  of  Ireland.  421 

The  alliteration  is  so  patent  and  profuse  as  to  need  no  sign.  And 
yet  this  climax  of  the  artifice  exhibits  but  a  high  refinement  of  the 
same  mnemonical  exigence  of  early  metre  in  general.  The  Irish 
versification  vras  itself  excelled  in  very  ancient  Kome,  as  witness  the 
following  familiar  specimens  from  old  Ennius : — 

0  Tite  tute  tute  tibi  tanta,  tyranne,  tulisti. 

And  again : — 

Machina  multa  minax  ninitatur  maxima  rauris. 

Yet  this  had  been  condemned  in  very  nearly  the  age  of  Ennius  as 
a  vicious  affectation  and  in  bad  taste :  a  proof,  then,  that  the  Eoman 
taste  and  therefore  civilization  must  have  been  superior,  at  tliis  con- 
fessedly semi- barbarous  epoch,  to  the  Irish  condition  of  both,  in 
quite  modem  times. 

From  metre  the  transition  would  be  easy  to  the  art  of  7mtsk\ 
had  this  not  been  the  earlier  in  development.  It  was,  therefore,  not 
essential  to  the  claim  put  forth  for  Ireland,  to  treat  the  subject 
separately  from  the  later  art  of  poetry — the  latter  in  fact  substituting 
all  its  evidential  value — as  to  prove  the  greater  is  a  fortiori  to  prove 
the  less.  It  is  true  no  doubt  that  Iri^h  music  has  been  preeminent 
of  its  kind.  And  we  may  also  grant  that  kind  to  be  the  triie  per- 
fection of  the  musical  faculty — its  age  of  sensuous  sweetness,  sim- 
plicity, and  soul.  Still,  it  would  ))C  thus  the  incident  of  an  infant  civi- 
lization. It  was  by  music  that  Amphion  allured  the  savage  Greeks  to 
live  in  cities,  not  by  reasoning,  or  even  by  political  economy.  In  modem 
societies,  too,  the  love  of  music,  an.l,  of  course,  the  musical  faculty 
present  the  same  direct  proportion  to  .the  mental  backwardness  of 
the  people.  IS^ot  France,  nor  even  Italy,  but  Germany  and  Bohemia. 
America  and  Ireland,  are  now  the  lands  of  music.  Children  and 
the  multitude  are  lovers  of  music  everywhere.  And  finally,  the 
very  brutes  (although  they  show,  ^ve  think,  no  partiality  for  any 
other  of  the  arts  or  accomplishments  of  civil  life)  are  yet,  many  of 
them,  "  charmed  by  the  concert  of  sweet  sounds." 

It  were  charity  then  to  Ireland  to  leave  in  the  background  so  equi- 
vocal a  sign  as  this  of  civilization.  Besides,  the  art  is  one,  for 
alleged  reasons,  which  leaves  few  traces  upon  record;  but  Ireland 
seems  to  abound  in  the  traditional  ri-cord  of  memory.  In  Dublin 
there  has  lately  been  formed  a  "  Society  for  the  Preservation 
and  Publication  of  Irish  Melodies "  (meaning  mere  airs ) ;  and 
of  these,  the  president,  Dr.  Fetrie,  an  eminent  Irish  savant,  supplies 
alone,  and  from  his  private  collection,  a  mass  to  suifeit  some  three 
large  volumes.     And  other  members  are,  many  of  them,  said  to  be 


422  The  Heathen  and  Medieval  [July, 

equally  rich  in  this  fairy  treasure.  But,  if  Ireland's  learned  men 
can  be  thus  occupied  at  the  present,  what  must  we  not  conclude  of 
her  whole  people  in  a  remote  past  ? 

Of  this  past  her  only  other  art  to  testify  is  arcuitectuke.  And 
this  supplies  her  far  most  plausible  pretension.  Her  celebrated 
Round  Towers  are  a  relic  otherwise  peculiar  than  the  vaunted 
perfectness  of  her  versification.  There  is  nothing  of  the  kind  in 
any  other  western  countr}',  whether  ancient  or  modem,  of  the  old 
world;  and  scarcel}^  anything  in  the  East  to  be  imagined  their 
original.  These  structures  are,  then,  SJ/i  generis,  and  quite  peculiar 
to  the  Irish.  Nor  are  they  much  more  singular  for  this  than  the  pro- 
ficiency which  they  imply  in  the  architecture  and  the  intellect  of  the 
builders.  It  was  recently  argued  *  a  priori,  from  their  hollow  cir- 
cularity, that  they  evince  a  civilization  beyond  the  boasted  one  of 
ancient  EgA'pt;  of  which  we  know  the  architecture  never  passed 
beyond  the  angular  state.  But  the  Avriter  seems  to  take  for  granted 
the  high  antiquity  of  the  Round  Towers,  and  also  that  the  native 
Irish  were  the  builders.  iS'ow  one  or  other,  and  perhaps  both,  of 
these  propositions  are  incompatible  with  the  condition  of  the  nation 
as  now  e.xamined  in  the  other  arts. 

Not  but  that  these  mystic  edifices  arc  of  great  relative  antiquity. 
The  mystery  that  shromls  their  origin  is  evidence  of  this.  Even 
popular  tradition,  with  its  usual  ignorant  confidence,  is  found  to 
hesitate  about  the  authors  of  the  Round  Towers.  These  were  said 
to  be  at  one  time  the  ])ruids,  at  another  the  Danes,  then  again  the 
Thouthah  do  Danaans,  who  were  possibly  the  same  people.  General 
Yallancey  was  the  first  to  propound  an  Oriental  origin;  and  thus 
he  opened  to  succeeding  writers  a  field  for  every  extravagance. 
The  7mme,  however,  which  they  bear  in  Irish,  refers  these  towers 
to  Christian  times,  and  the  latest  theory  advanced  respecting  them 
essays  to  ratify  this  indication. 

The  author  of  thi.s  theory  is  Dr.  Petric — the  Irish  scholar  above- 
mentioned — of  British  fame  for  his  architectural  and  antiquarian 
information.  His  book  (entitled  "  An  Essay  on  the  Origin  and  Uses 
of  the  Round  Towers  of  Ireland")  devotes  a  first  part  to  the  refu- 
tation of  all  the  antecedent  systems,  and  then  proceeds  to  the 
establishment  of  his  own.  His  conclusions  may  be  summed  up  in 
the  eight  following  propositions,  of  which  equal  numbers  represent 
the  negative  and  the  positive  reasons  for  his  opinion. 

The  negative  reasons  are  : — 

1st.  That  there  is  no  evidence  that  the  Pagan  Irish  had  the  art 
of  constructing  an  arch  or  the   use   of  cement;    that  nothing    of 
•^  Vestiges  of  Civilization,  p.  278,  note. 


1853.]  Civilization  of  Ireland.  423 

either  is  found  in  the  numberless  remains  of  buildings  of  that 
period. 

2d.  That  no  building  in  Ireland  ascribed  to  the  Pagan  times  has 
anything  resembling  the  forms  or  features  of  the  Round  Towers, 
and  indicating  an  approximate  degree  of  skill. 

3d.  That  previous  to  General  Yallauce}^ — an  author  of  poor 
authority — no  writer  had  ever  ascribed  to  the  Round  Towers  any 
higher  than  a  Christian  or  at  least  a  medieval  origin. 

4th.  And  that  the  arguments  of  Yallancey  and  his  successors 
have  been  proved  (by  Dr.  Petrie)  to  be  of  no  weight. 

The  affirmative  reasons  are  : — 

1st.  That  the  Towers  are  never  found  unconnected  with  ancient 
ecclesiastical  foundations. 

2d.  That  their  architectural  styles  exhibit  no  features  or  pecu- 
liarities not  equally  found  in  the  original  church  with  which  they 
are  connected,  when  such  remain. 

3d.  That,  on  several  of  them,  Christian  emblems  are  observable; 
and  that  others  in  the  details  employ  a  style  of  architecture  universally 
acknowledged  to  belong  to  Christian  times. 

4th.  That  they  possess  invariably  architectural  features  not  found 
in  any  building  in  Ireland  ascertained  to  be  of  heathen  times. 

So  we  see  the  investigation  has  been  compreheusive  and  minute. 
The  author's  ultimate  conclusion  is,  that  they  were  erected  by  the 
church-builders,  and  that  their  uses  were  for  belfries  in  the  main ; 
but  also  that  they  served  occasionally  a.?  tbrtresscs  or  places  of  refuge. 

Rut  why,  one  cannot  help  replying,  have  not  the  same  church- 
builders,  spread  over  Europe,  erected  anything  of  this  description 
in  any  other  spot  of  earth?  This  j)atent  olijection  Dr.  Petrie  has 
left  untouched.  It  is  an  example  of  the  lack  of  philosophy  which 
is  the  great  defect  of  his  technical  cs.say.  If  all  bis  statements  be 
quite  reliable,  he  refutes,  indeed,  his  predecessor.s,  and  renders 
positively  probable  his  own  position.  Rut  he  leaves  this  position 
a  singularity,  an  eccentricity  in  Christian  history,  and  therefore  such 
as  no  rational  intellect  can  be  content  with  upon  any  proof  There 
must  be  not  only  evidence,  but  explanation  ;  and  explanation  comes 
alone  of  philosophy.  Even  though  the  builders  were  ascertained, 
therefore,  still  the  "origin"  of  the  Round  Towers,  that  is  to  say, 
their  rationale,  would  remain  to  be  discovered.  Dr.  Peti-ie  has, 
however,  established  sufficient  for  tiie  purpose  here,  in  showing  that 
they  are  neither  ancient  nor  strictly  Irish;  for  if  Christian,  the 
art  to  build  them  was  imported  with  the  Roman  creed.  In 
fact,  this  negative  conclusion  concurs,  on  the  one  hand,  with  our 
deduction  as  to  the  higher  than  heathen  civilization  they  presuppose; 


424  The  Heathen  and  MedicBval  [July, 

and  on  the  other,  with  the  preceding  survey  of  the  other  arts 
in  Ireland  Avliich  proves  that  the  natives  could  have  attained  no 
6uch  civilization. 

LAWS. 

Of  these  the  manuscript  remains  are  all  unpublished  and  obscure. 
Kot  only  the  text,  but  the  added  glosses,  are  said  to  have  been  un- 
intelligible to  even  the  ablest  Irish  scholars  of  the  last  and  preceding 
centuries,  such  as  O'Connor,  M'Firbis,  and  Lynch.  The  latter  tells 
us  that  the  Irish  laws  were,  in  G8G,  compiled  by  their  learned  men, 
and  entitled  "  Celestial  Judgments."  This  name  speaks  sufficiently 
the  barbaric  character  of  the  laws.  This  is  confirmed  in  the  follow- 
ing description  by  the  same  eminent  antiquarian  :— 

Quod  sit  jus  cleri,  satrapoc,  vallisque  falcisque, 
^>c  nou  agricoho,  liber  iste  docebit  abunde. 

Here  are  the  class  and  caste  laws  of  barbarism  and  feudality. 
And  we  should  add  that  the  representation  is  from  the  hand  of  a 
special  advocate  of  all  things  Irish  against  the  alleged  calumnies  of 
Cambreusis.  Also  that  this  learned  Irishman  was  suspected,  as 
above  noted,  of  bqing  incapable  of  understanding  the  earlier  text  of 
these  Brehon  laws. 

Of  these  laws,  however,  we  are  now  speedily  to  have  an  English 
translation.  Lord  Eglinton,  the  present  Lord-lieutenant  of  Ireland, 
has  very  laudably  obtained  from  the  government  a  special  com- 
mission for  this  purpose,  and  this  quaint  code  is  to  be  printed  at 
the  government  expense.  How  the  difficulties  of  dialect  are  to  be 
now  vanquished,  we  arc  not  aware.  But  certainly  the  production 
will  be  curious  and  useful ;  useful  not  only  to  the  philosopher,  but 
also  to  the  historian  who  would  drain  off  another  swamp  of  Hibernian 
mist  and  mirage. 

But  this  publication  need  not  be  waited  for  to  pronounce  upon  the 
general  character  and  social  coiTclation  of  these  laws.  They  are 
manifestly  feudal  and  barbarian ;  in  fact,  they  coincide  in  most  points 
with  the  Gothic  codes  of  the  middle  ages.  All  crimes  are  tariffed 
for  money,  which  the  Irish  termed  eric — the  Saxon  appellation  being 
tvere-gild.  Gavel-kind,  another  Gothic  usage,  existed  also  in  the 
Irish  law,  and  with  certain  aggi-avations  of  its  absurdity.  Also 
Fanistry.  a  sort  of  political  gavel-kind.  The  latter  allowed  their 
kings  and  chiefs  but  a  mere  life-interest  in  their  positions ;  the  former 
allowed  the  tenant  but  a  like  interest  in  the  land.  So  with  the  fall 
of  each  generati(m,  the  public  offices  and  the  private  possessions 
reverted  to  chaos  and  a  certain  species  of  communism :  for  com- 
munism is  the  primitive  condition  of  society;   and  this  is  why 


1S53.]  Civilization  of  Irelmid.  425 

we  find  it  make  its  reappearance  at  the  present  day,  when  the  old 
systems  are  fast  dissolving  to^Yards  their  foundation. 

May  not  these  two  fundamental  usages  have  had  some  influence 
in  perpetuating  the  political  dissensions  and  the  arbitrary  tenant- 
tenure  As-hich,  even  still,  are  the  principal  agents  of  Irish  semi- 
barbarism  ■?  Be  this  as  it  may,  their  original  character  was  evidently 
barbarian;  and  they  furnish  a  full  s{>ecimcn  of  the  Brchon  laws. 
The  Irish  had,  besides  these  laws,  a  compilation  called  the  Book  of 
Rights.  It  seems  to  be  appropriated  to  the  regulation  of  the  various 
kinds  of  tribute — a  notion  which  men  conceive  without  very  forward 
civilization.  It  was  perhaps  something  a})proximating  to  the  nature 
qf  a  statute-book ;  even  as  the  Brciion  code  might  be  distinguished 
as  the  "judge-made  law"  of  ancient  Ireland. 

From  its  laws,  its  arts,  its  letters,  and  even  its  laudators,  there 
arises,  then,  one  joint  protest  agninst  the  pretensions  of  the 
Irish  nation  to  a  civilization  cither  such  at  all  as  we  now  distiufruish 
by  the  term,  or  even  signally  superior  to  the  surrounding  barbarism. 
This  conclusion  might  be  fully  coriliruied  from  other  aspects  of 
national  interest,  for  instance  language  and  religion,  the  most 
essentially  significant.  But  to  give  an  idea  of  either  would  transcend 
our  space.  Bespecting  religion,  we  may  remark,  however,  that  the 
Irish  idols  were  largo  stones — the  gods  precisely,  in  our  o\nx  day, 
of  the  South-sea  savages.  The  Iri.-h  covered  theirs,  indeed,  with 
gold;  whence  chch-oir  (golden-stone)  and  the  modern  Clobber, 
a  bishop's  see.  Yet,  with  all  credit  f  >r  this  advance,  it  caimot  still 
be  well  dissembled,  that  the  Cromlech  and  the  Cromcroagh,  with 
■which  St.  Patrick  had  to  compete,  betray  a  rather  primitive  state 
of  intellect,  if  not  of  taste. 

Thus  is  answered  our  first  question: — Did  a  civilization,  indeec^ 
exist?  And  the  conclusion  being  in  the  negative,  of  course,  tjie 
second  is  superseded,  Avhich  related,  it  will  be  remembered,  to  the 
degree.  A  non-existence  has  no  gradations.  And  as  to  the  Un- 
conscious, or  primitive  sort  of  civilitude,  the  grade  attained  to  by 
the  Irish,  and  which  was  certainly  (|uitc  high,  has  been  designated 
in  the  march  of  the  inquiry. 

Another  result  of  the  conclusion  is  equally  to  obviate  the  double 
train  of  difficulties  indicated  at  the  outset.  Of  the  "golden  age" 
of  Ireland,  reduced  to  rank  with  all  the  others,  we  need  no  longer 
discuss  the  origin,  the  accidents,  or  the  catastrophe.  Thus,  at  one 
fell  swoop,  have  all  these  conse'iucnc-js  of  the  leading  query  been 
cut  away.  Nor  are  the  incidental  explications  of  the  second  question 
an}--  more  obligatory,  since  the  principal  has  not  itself  come  into 
play.     Not  having  had  to  measure  the  degree  of  Irish  civilization, 

Fourth  Series,  Vol.  V.— '-7 


42G 


The  Signs  of  the  Times. 


[July, 


we  do  not  want  the  tlieoretic  scale.  And  we  are  too  bappy,  at  this 
late  hour,  to  be  dispensed  from  tlie  necessity.  Practically,  however, 
such  a  scale  has  been  applied  through  our  whole  analysis.  It  has 
been  shown  how  letters,  laAvs,  and  arts,  such  as  the  Irish,  appertain  but 
to  a  primitive  development  of  intellect ;  how,  among  the  several  arts, 
the  first,  as  simplest  to  be  cultivated,  are  successively  language, 
music,  and  then  their  joint  production,  poetry — which  make,  ac- 
cordingly, the  whole  possessions  of  ancient  Ireland  in  this  Ime; 
and  finally,  how  the  whole  a\5thctic  scries  may  be  unfolded  without 
implying  a  strictly  social  or  scientific  civilization. 


Anx.  Yll.— THE  SIGXS  OF  THE  TBIES. 


"  Can  ye  not  discern  the  signs  of  the  times  ? " — In  this  inter- 
rogatory, addressed  to  the  Sadducces  and  Pharisees,  the  infidels 
and  formalists  of  their  day,  our  Lord  intimates  that  each  age  has 
certain 'characteristics  peculiar  to  itself,  which  may  be  called  the 
signs  of  the  times ;  that  these  signs  may  be  understood  and  inter- 
preted by  careful  thought  and  inquiry ;  that  we  ought,  as  fiir  as  we 
are  able,  to  read,  niark,  learn,  and  inwardly  digest  them;  and  that 
it  is  our  duty,  ^vhcn  we  have  truly  discerned  the  signs  of  the  times, 
to  regulate  our  conduct  accordingly. 

The  signs  of  the  times  are  the  transactions,  events,  and  general 
spirit  of  the  passing  age.  Every  age  has  certain  peculiarities  of 
its  OAvn,  which  distinguish  it  from  every  other.  As  no  two  faces, 
50  no  two  ages  arc  alike  in  all  things.  Time  is  like  a  river,  ever 
flowing;  but  its  ilow  is  not  always  equable.  In  some  places  it  is 
more,  in  others  less,  rapid.  ISow  it  is  smooth  and  placid;  now 
ruffled  by  winds  and  tempfsts.  At  one  time  it  glides  silently  along 
as  in  a  clear  and  unobstructed  channel ;  at  another,  it  dashes  over 
rocks,  circumgyratcs  in  -whirlpools,  and  roars,  and  foams,  and  chafes 
against  the  various  ob-^i^tructions  which  impede  its  course. 

The  things  wherein  the  present  age  is  distinguished  from  other 
ages  are  the  signs  of  the  present  times. 

Times  and  seasons  are  at  the  divine  disposal.  The  signs  of  the 
times,  therefore,  are  such  as  God  makes  them.  There  is  an  unseen 
but  almighty  hand  behind  the  scenes  of  providence,  which  brings 
them  forward,  directs,  adjusts,  moulds,  and  removes  them,  according 
as  the  accomplishment  of  his  purposes  demands.  Hence  the  signs 
of  the  times  signify  something,  in  which  the  divine  counsel  and 


1853.]  The  Signs  of  the  Tvnes.  427 

plan  are  concerned.  As  the  face  of  the  sky  indicates  what  sort  of 
weather  is  approaching,  so  are  tlic  great  events  of  the  age  an  indica- 
tion of  what  God  is  doing,  and  abont  to  do,  in  the  kingdom  of 
providence.  To  discern  the  signs  of  the  times,  is  to  understand  them; 
to  know  their  significance ;  to  feel  their  force ;  and  to  act  conform- 
ably to  their  lessons.  God's  doings  in  providence  are  as  instruct- 
ive as  his  words  in  Scripture;  and  if  we  are  bound  to  give  heed  to 
the  latter,  an  equal  obligation  lies  upon  us  to  attend  to  the  former. 
The.  importance  of  discerning  the  signs  of  the  times,  and,  of  course, 
of  studying  them,  is  implied  in  the  question  of  our  Saviour;  is 
affirmed  in  explicit  terms  in  the  Bible;  and  is  enforced  by  examples 
of  divine  judgments  inflicted  upon  men  in  consequence  of  neglecting 
to  observe  and  comprehend  them.  To  study  and  unfold  the  signs 
of  the  passing  age,  and  the  duties  to  which  they  point,  is  the  design 
of  the  present  article. 

Before  entering  upon  this  labour,  however,  we  crave  the  reader's 
attention  to  three  preliminary  remarks : — 

1.  AVe  have  reached  one  of  the  great  landmarks  of  time.  We 
occupy  a  position  midway  between  the  close  of  the  eighteenth 
century  and  the  beginning  of  the  twentieth.  It  is  a  position  not 
only  favourable  to  observation,  but  inviting  it.  At  such  a  time,  to 
a  contemplative  mind  the  past  rises  to  view,  as  it  were,  unbidden ; 
and  the  future,  with  almost  equal  facility,  shapes  itself,  to  the 
eye  of  the  imagination,  into  a  picture  approximating,  less  or  more, 
to  the  solemn  realities  which  tiic  coming  years  and  ages  shall 
evolve. 

2.  The  present  ago  has  a  character  all  its  own.  No  times  were 
ever  more  original,  marked,  and  peculiar,  than  the  times  in  which 
our  lot  is  cast.  Their  leading  characteristic  is, — earnestness,  move- 
ment, action,  vitality,  positiveness.  Every  day  almost  is  teemin<^ 
with  great  events;  events  having  a  positive  and  marked  influence 
upon  the  destinies  of  our  race.     Negatives  have  no  place  in  these 

-stirring  times.  It  is  an  age  of  steam,  of  electricity,  of  haste,  of 
prodigious  movement  and  significance.  Its  best  type  is  its  own 
gi-eatest  and  most  wonderful  invention, — the  magnetic  telegraph. 

3.  In  a  sm-vey  of  this  nature,  it  is  important,  that  we  do  not 
confine  our  observations  within  too  najTow  a  field.  The  range  of 
vision  should  be  broad  and  comj^-rhensive.  "  Remove  the  diadem," 
says  the  Lord  of  hosts,  by  the  mouth  of  his  prophet,  "remove  the 
diadem,  and  take  off  the  crown:  this  shall  not  be  the  same:  exalt 
him  that  is  low,  and  abase  him  that  is  high.  I  will  overturn,  overturn, 
overturn  it;  and  it  shall  be  no  more,  until  he  come  whose  right  it  is; 
and  I  will  give  it  him."     This  passage  is  based  upon  a  principle, 


428  TJie  Signs  of  the  Times.  [July, 

elsewhere  expressly  aflSrmed  in  the  word  of  God,  viz.,  that  "the 
Most  Iligh  ruleth  in  the  kingdom  of  men,  and  giveth  it  to  whomsoever 
he  will."  He,  therefore,  who  would  obtain  a  just  view  of  the  signs 
of  the  times,  must  not  Umit  his  inquiries  to  the  Chm-ch  and  the  aSairs 
of  religion :  but  must  extend  them  to  all  the  departments  of  human 
activity;  to  all  that  is  occurring  among  men;  and  to  the  whole 
world  of  nature.  All  the  schemes  of  ambition,  all  the  enterprises 
of  trade,  all  the  revolutions  of  empires,  all  the  discoveries  of  science, 
all  the  inventions  of  art,  all  the  refinements  of  learning,  all  the 
projects,  doings,  and  aspirings  of  men,  of  whatever  name  or  kind, 
fulfil  the  counsel  and  reveal  the  purpose  of  the  Most  High,  as  truly 
as  what  occurs  in  the  kingdom  of  grace,  and  within  the  enclosui-e 
of  the  Church. 

In  the  prosecution  of  our  main  design,  we  now  proceed  to  inquire 
into  the  signs  of  the  times,  as  they  manifest  themselves  in  the  world 
of  natm'C,  the  world  of  science  and  art,  the  world  of  learning,  the 
political  world,  and  tlie  religious  world. 

In  the  department  of  nature  the  proofs  of  the  divine  bounty 
and  goodness  are  manifold  and  abundant.  Doubtless,  death  is 
busy  in  our  age,  as  he  has  been  in  all  that  have  gone  before 
it,  and  will  be  in  all  that  shall  follow  it.  He  is  continually 
striking  down  his  victims  with  unrelenting  and  resistless  hand; 
and  fatal  epidemics  prevail  from  time  to  time  in  different 
quarters  of  the  globe.  Is^evertheless,  famines,  earthquakes,  pes- 
tilences, the  sea  and  the  winds  roaring,  and  men's  hearts  failing 
them  for  fear,  unwonted  and  fearful  sights,  blood  and  fire,  and  vapom- 
of  smoke,  the  sun  darkened,  the  stars  fixlling,  and  the  moon  rolling 
through  the  heavens  an  ocean  of  blood, — these  are  not  the  signs  of 
our  times.  The  elements  are  at  peace  with  each  other.  The  earth 
brings  forth  abundantly  for  man  and  beast.  And  not  only  is  her  soil 
more  prolific,  and  her  harvests  richer  than  at  any  preceding  period, 
but,  obedient  to  the  behests  of  human  ingenuity  and  skill,  she  is 
revealing  to  the  knowledge  and  yielding  up  to  the  use  of  man  stores 
of  wealth  and  happiness,  new,  strange,  wonderful,  and  inexhaustible. 

In  the  world  of  science  and  art  an  amazing  scene  opens  upon 
our  view.  Hero  the  activity  of  the  human  mind,  during  the  last 
half-century,  has  been  most  conspicuously  displayed.  Here  its 
achievements  have  been  signal  and  splendid  beyond  all  precedent, 
throwing  all  previous  ones  cc'mpletely  into  the  shade,  and  conducting 
the  world  to  the  verge  of  new  triumphs,  still  more  comprehensive 
and  wonderful.  The  most  enligh.tened  nations  of  antiquity — Egypt, 
Greece,  and  Rome — knew  no  such  day  as  this  for  invention  and  dis- 
covery.   In  the  monuments  of  mere  taste — architectm-e,  sculpture, 


1853.]  The  Signs  of  the  Times.  429 

painting — Tre  must,  perhaps,  acknowledge  their  superiority;  but 
in  science  and  the  useful  arts,  in  all  that  contributes  to  the  progi'ess 
of  man  and  the  pui'poses  of  human  happiness,  at  -what  an  im- 
measurable distance  were  they  behind  us  ! 

The  strides  which  science  has  made  within  the  present  centmy 
are,  indeed,  gigantic.  Nearly  all  of  what  are  called  the  natural 
sciences,  as  distinguished  from  the  mathematical  and  moral  sciences, 
have  been  born  within  the  memory  of  men  now  living.  And  it 
would  be  incredible,  if  it  were  not  a  matter  of  known  certainty,  that 
such  a  vast  multitude  of  facts  as  now  compose  the  body  of  these 
sciences  should  have  been  observed,  classified,  and  marked  with  so 
much  precision,  within  such  a  short  period  of  time. 

But  the  laws  of  science,  however  wonderful  or  brilliant,  do  not 
strike  the  general  mind  as  powcifull}'-  as  the  applications  of  science 
to  mechanical  improvements  and  the  various  arts  of  life.  Here  the 
results  are  tangible  and  visible ;  and  while  they  are,  on  this  account, 
level  to  every  body's  apprehension,  they  produce  such  prodigious 
changes  in  practical  life,  that  tliey  afloct  almost  everybody's  interest. 
Let  us  glance  at  some  of  these  applications.  The  name  of  labour- 
saving,  time-saving,  and  expense-saving  machines  is  legion.  The 
number  of  patents  issued  at  Washington  within  the  present  century 
is  over  fifteen  thousand ;  and  eveiT  year  adds  largely  to  the  amount. 
The  increase  is  in  a  constantly  accelerated  ratio.  Almost  everything 
is  now  done,  in  whole  or  in  part,  by  machinery.  Books  are  printed 
and  bound,  cloth  is  woven,  fields  are  ploughed  and  reaped,  boards  are 
planed,  gi-ain  is  thrashed,  corn  is  planted,  wood  is  sawed,  merchandise 
is  transported,  bricks  are  made,  clothes  arc  sewed,  bread  is  kneaded, 
clocks  are  constructed,  and  a  thousand  other  processes  performed,  by 
machinery.  In  spinning  cotton,  one  man.  with  the  aid  of  machinery, 
can  perform  the  work  of  twenty-five  tliousand  under  the  old  hand 
system.  Chloroform  and  sulphuric  ether  now  suspeml  all  sensibility 
to  pain  during  the  most  diflicult  and  protracted  surgical  operations. 
The  sun  is  employed  as  a  painter  of  jiictures,  transferring,  in  a  mo- 
ment of  time,  to  imperishable  tablet-',  the  manifold  scenes  and  objects 
of  nature,  and  the  minutest  lineanionis  of  those  who  are  dear  to  us. 

But  it  is  in  the  domain  of  commerce  that  science  has  achieved 
her  proudest  triumphs.  The  steamboat  and  the  railroad  are  but  of 
yesterday;  yet  have  they  already  revolutionized  the  business  and 
the  opinions  of  the  world.  There  are  thousands  of  persons  now 
living  whose  meniory  runs  back  beyond  the  time  when  Robert  Fulton 
made  his  first  experimental  trip  in  a  steamer  on  the  Hudson  Biver. 
That  was  only  in  1807  ;  and  what  mountains  of  ridicule  were  heaped 
upon  the  projector !     And  now  what  do  we  see  ?     All  rivers,  lakes, 


430  The  Signs  of  the  Times.  [July 

inland  seas,  and  the  ocean  itself,  covered  mth  steam-vessels.  Two 
thousand  steamers  are  pl3'in;^  American  waters;  one  thousand, 
British  waters ;  and  several  thousand  more,  the  waters  of  continental 
Europe.  The  railroad  is  of  still  later  invention  Indeed,  it  is 
scarcely  a  quarter  of  a  century  since  it  came  into  use  at  all.  And 
now  "  the  entire  surface  of  Europe  and  North  America  is  reticulated 
with  networks  of  iron,  on  which  iron-ribbed  and  flame-breathing 
monsters  whirl  enormous  loads  of  freight  and  vast  multitudes  of 
passengers,  with  the  rapidity  of  the  bird's  flight."  Two  years  ago 
the  amount  of  capital  invested  in  railroads  finished  or  in  pro- 
cess of  construction  was  estimated  at  twenty-five  hundred  millions 
of  dollars.  And  what  astonishing  results  have  followed !  At  the  close 
of  the  last  century,  with  the  exception  of  a  few  military  roads, 
inherited  from  the  Ptonians,  or  built  by  Napoleon,  there  were  no 
roads  in  Europe  that  deserved  the  name.  It  was  almost  as  bad  as 
in  the  days  of  Shamgar  and  Jael,  when  "  the  highways  were  unoc- 
cupied, and  the  travellers  walked  through  byways."  One  Arihur 
Young,  "actually  measured  ruts  four  feet  deep,"  and  "passed  three 
carts  broken  down  within  three  miles  of  execrable  memory."  Such  a 
thing  as  internal  trade,  except  l)y  means  of  inland  seas  and  the  larger 
rivers,  was  almost  unknown.  The  roads  were  impracticable  for  such 
purposes.  Now  the  bulkiest  articles  are  transported,  at  the  rate  of  thirty 
miles  an  hour,  and  at  an  expense  little  more  than  nominal,  to  almost 
every  nook  and  corner  of  the  civilized  world.  But  a  little  while 
ago,  the  regular  time  for  the  transportation  of  the  mail  between  the 
cities  of  New- York  and  Albany  vras  eight  days.  Now  it  is  only 
four  hours.  These  statenuTits  will  serve  to  give  some  little  idea  of 
the  stupendous,  though  silent  and  peaceful  revolutions,  Avhich  steam 
and  coal  have  produced,  within  a  period  commencing  since  the  most 
of  those  who  compose  the  present  generation  came  upon  the  stage 
of  action. 

But  by  far  the  most  wonderful  of  all  the  achievements  of  the 
inventive  genius  of  man  is  yet  behind, — we  mean  the  magnetic 
telegraph.  Here  we  have  an  agent  which  literally  annihilates  space 
and  time ;  an  agent,  by  which  persons  at  the  two  extremities  of  a 
continent  can  converse  Avith  each  other  just  as  if  they  were  sitting 
in  the  same  parlour,  and  a  speech  delivered  in  the  Senate  of  the 
LFnited  States  could  be  read,  supposing  the  wires  to  be  extended 
across  the  continent,  by  a  man  on  the  shores  of  the  Pacific  as  soon 
as  by  the  President  of  the  republic,  whose  residence  is  only  at  the 
other  end  of  Pennsylvania  Avenue.  Quite  .  appropriate  is  it, 
that  the  close  of  a  half-century,  signalized  by  such  astonishing 
progress  in  science,  and  the  applications  of  science,  should  also  be 


1853.]  The  Sig7is  of  the  Times.  431 

signalized  by  a  "World's  Fair,  at  ■which  the  varied,  o.nd  brilliant,  and 
countless  products  of  modem  genius  and  industry  are  enshrined 
in  a  crystal  palace, — itself  a  greater  wonder  than  all  the  -Ronders 
it  contains. 

Doubtless,  great  purposes  in  the  divine  plan  are  to  be  ans-\vered 
by  all  these  discoveries,  inventions,  and  contrivances.  What  those 
purposes  are,  in  all  their  relations  and  results,  we  may  not  be  able 
fully  to  comprehend.  The  entire  breailth  of  the  divine  operation  is 
kno^\-n  to  God  alone ;  yet  has  it  a  meaning  open,  in  some  degree,  to 
the  lowest  intelligence.  One  plain  design  of  Providence  in  all  these 
things  is  to  relieve  labourers  from  constant  and  oppressive  toils,  and 
afford  them  more  time  for  pursuits  congenial  to  their  spiritual  and 
immortal  nature.  Another  is,  to  remove  the  material  barriers  by 
which  nations  have  heretofore  been  separated;  to  promote  good 
neighbourhood  among  them;  to  melt  all  iie-irts  into  one;  and  so  to 
hasten  the  reign  of  universal  love  and  peace.  Still  another  design, 
clear  as  the  sun  in  a  cloudless  day,  is  to  open  an  effectual  door  to 
the  gospel-message  in  every  clime,  to  facilitate  the  passage  of  the 
gospel  heralds  to  their  various  field.s  of  labour, — in  short,  to  pave 
the  way  for  the  fulfilment  of  tiic  prophecy  that  "many  shall  run  to 
and  fro,  and  knowledge  shall  be  increased." 

Our  next  inquiry  relates  to  the  signs  of  the  times,  so  far  as 
learning  is  concerned.  Here  our  age  has  a  character  quite  as 
marked  and  original  as  in  any  other  department.  It  is  not, 
however,  in  the  depth  and  vastncss  of  its  learning,  that  the 
peculiarity  of  the  present  ago  consists.  The  Bacons,  Hookers, 
Miltons,  Souths,  Baxters,  Howes,  Taylors,  Barrows,  and  Owens 
of  former  times,  have  few,  if  any,  representatives  in  our  day. 
But  what  we  want  in  depth,  we  more  tlian  make  up  in  breadth. 
If  the  few  arc  less  learned,  the  masses  are  more  enlight- 
ened. In  respect  to  knowledge,  it  is  an  age  of  expansion, 
diffusion,  universality.  This  it  is  which  distinguishes  it  from  all 
the  other  periods  of  time.  It  is  the  age  of  the  free  school  and  the 
free  press ;  the  age  of  the  cheap  book  and  tiie  cheaper  magazine  and 
newspaper.  When  Dr.  Franklin  proposed  to  start  a  newspaper, 
his  friends  dissuaded  him  on  the  ground  that  there  were  two  papers 
already  in  the  country.  With  that  deep  sagacity  which  belonged 
to  him,  he  replied :  "  More  papers  will  make  more  readers."  A  great 
truth,  attested  by  the  foct,  that  there  are  now  published  in  the 
United  States  about  two  thousand  seven  hundred  newspapers,  many 
of  them  with  a  circulation  of  five,  ton,  or  twenty  thousand ;  while 
one,  "the  Sunday  School  Advocate,"  lias  one  hundred  and  ten  thou- 
sand subscribers;  and  the  "American  Messenger"  has  a  circulation 


432  The  Signs  of  the  Times.     ■  [July, 

of  two  hundred  thousand  copies.  The  million  are  now  readers. 
To  satisfy  so  yast  an  intellectual  craving,  the  press  pours  out  its 
thousands  of  volumes  daily.  Many  of  these,  doubtless,  are 
worthless.  But  the  great  majority  are  not  so.  On  the  contrary, 
they  embrace  works  of  the  highest  value,  in  all  the  multifarious 
departments  of  knowledge,  "  issued  and  re-issued,"  as  has  been  said, 
"till  one  doubts  whether  tlie  world  can  contain  them  all.  Yet  is 
there  no  cessation  to  the  labours  of  the  compositor  and  pressman ; 
for  Avhat  books  foil  to  hold,  is  uttered  in  the  periodical  and  the  news- 
paper, which,  like  the  motes  in  the  sunbeam,  fill  the  whole  air.  A 
single  religious  society  will  now  send  the  words  of  John  or  Paul  to  a 
greater  number  of  minds  in  seven  days,  than  John  or  Paul  could  have 
preached  to,  had  they  preached  incessantly  for  seven  times  seven 
years."  In  short,  the  ])ress  in  our  age,  by  its  prolific  energy  of 
production,  has  become  a  centre  and  source  of  influence  mightier 
and  more  pervading  than  the  world  has  ever  seen  before. 

Op  fourth  inquiry  relates  to  the  political  world. 

And  here  we  observe,  that  with  the  advance  of  human  freedom, 
the  world  itself  is  advancing  to  its  great  destination  of  universal 
light  and  happiness. 

«'  'Tis  liberty  alone  that  gives  the  flo'wer 
Of  fleeting  life  its  lustre  and  perfume." 

Freedom,  especially  when  combined  with  the  higher  element  of  Chris- 
tianity, ever  hastens  the  development  of  the  higher  faculties  of  man,  as 
well  as  the  promotion  of  domestic  refinement  and  happiness.  Such 
freedom  is  the  great  moving  power  of  human  affairs.  It  is  the  source 
of  the  mightiest  and  subiimest  efforts  of  human  genius.  It  is  the  grand 
instrument  of  humaii  advancement.  Its  leading  characteristic  is 
energy;  energy,  arousing  the  dormant  strength  of  the  masses  of 
society ;  energy,  awaking  to  life  and  action  the  power  that  sleeps  in 
the  peasant's  mind,  the  might  that  slumbers  in  the  peasant's  arm. 
The  grandest  achievements  of  intellect,  the  noblest  efforts  of  valour, 
the  subiimest  ministrations  of  benevolence,  the  richest  fruits  of 
human  industry,  that  have  ever  illustrated  and  adorned  the  annals 
of  our  race,  have  all  sprung  from  this  principle.  What  was  Holland, 
before  she  became  free  ?  The  minds  of  her  people  were  as  stagnant 
as  the  marshes  that  covered  so  large  a  portion  of  her  soil.  But 
freedom  roused  them  to  action.  Freedom  drew  forth  and  warmed 
into  vitality  their  latent  and  lifeless  energies.  Freedom  bridled  the 
stormy  waves  of  the  German  ocean.  Freedom  built  o,nd  manned 
the  ships  that  poured  into  her  lap  the  riches  of  the  world.  Freedom 
covered  her  boimdless  marshes  with  a  velvet  carpet,  and   made 


1853.]  The  Signs  of  the  Times.  433 

tliem  smile  vrith  fertility,  and  rejoice  in  abundance.  Freedom  made 
her  seminaries  fountains  of  lif^ht  to  the  nations,  and  her  statesmen, 
la'tyyers,  and  divines,  the  oracles  of  their  generation. 

And  what  was  England,  before  Magna  Charta  burst  her  chains 
and  ended  her  thraldom?  The  extinction  of  fires  and  lights, 
enjoined  upon  her  ^Yhoie  realm,  when 

"  The  curfew  toll'd  tbc  knell  of  jiarting  day," 

was  an  apt  emblem  of  the  darkness  which  shrouded  the  minds  of 
her  people.  Freedom  wrought  for  her  as  it  did  for  Holland.  T^'hat 
is  England  now  ?  •  Preeminent,  among  the  nations  of  Europe,  in  '•'  all 
that  the  wise  most  seek  to  know,  or  the  good  most  desire  to  do." 
And  we  have  in  her  advancement,  as  compared,  for  instance,  with 
the  stationary  condition  of  China,  a  striking  illustration  of  the  power 
of  the  gospel,  as  an  element  of  progi-e3.=!.  Chinese  peasants  could 
read  and  write,  when  the  princes  who  sat  upon  the  throne  of  England 
could  do  neither.  Since  then  China  has  made  no  advance,  while 
England  has  attained  a  lofty  height  of  civilization.  Her  name  re- 
sounds in  all  lands ;  her  empire  encircles  the  globe ;  her  keels  vex 
every  ocean ;  her  influence  reaches  to  the  ends  of  the  earth ;  and 
"she  sits  like  a  star  on  the  lap  of  the  ocean,"  emitting  a  mild  and 
healthful  radiance  on  the  surroundiiig  darkness.  Wherefore  such  a 
diflference?  Wherefore  such  a  change  in  the  relative  position  of  the 
two  nations?  England  has  had  tlie  go?pel ;  China  has  been  without 
it.     That  is  the  whole  explanation  of  the  phenomenon. 

Let  us  now  turn  our  regards  to  our  own  country,  and  the  continent 
on  which  our  country  holds  so  conspicuous  and  prominent  a  position. 

In  eastern  fable,  the  world  is  a  hai-p.  Its  strings  are  earth,  air, 
fire,  flood,  life,  death,  and  mind.  At  certain  periods,  an  angel,  flying 
through  the  midst  of  heaven,  strikes  the  harp,  and  its  vibrations  are 
those  mighty  issues  of  good  and  evil  which  mark  the  destiny  of  our 
race.  At  one  time,  tempests,  carthrjuakes,  inundations,  war,  fsmiine, 
and  pestilence  follow  the  mystic  touch.  At  another,  all  natm-e  is 
dressed  in  smiles  and  flowers.  The  earth  is  covered  with  waving 
grass  and  luxuriant  harvests.  The  fields^are  gay  with  bloom.  The 
air  is  filled  with  fragrance.  Rich  flocks  and  herds  crown  the  hill- 
tops, and  spread  themselves  out  over  the  valleys.  And  laujihter 
rings  out  its  raenT'  peals  upon  the  glad  ear  of  hope. 

This  is  the  fable.  The  moral  i?  obvious.  The  mighty  tract  of 
human  affairs  is  marked  by  great  epochs.  Time  is  full  of  eras. 
Every  nation  has  its  eras, — its  birth,  its  revolutions,  its  great  de- 
liverances. Every  family  has  its  eras, — eventful  occurrences  in  the 
domestic  history.     Every  heart  even  has  its  eras, — the  wedding-day, 


434  The  Signs  of  the  Times.  [July, 

the  death  of  a  deai*  companion  or  a  first-born  child,  the  last  farewell 
of  a  departed  friend. 

The  mystic  harp  -vvas  touched  %Yhen  our  pilgrim  fatliers  set  foot 
on  Plymouth  llock ;  and  its  quivering  strings  discoursed  their  most 
elocjueut  music.  The  burden  of  the  strain  was, — human  freedom ; 
human  brotherhood ;  human  rights  ;  the  sovereignty  of  the  people ; 
the  supremacy  of  law  over  will ;  the  divine  right  of  man  to  govern 
himself.  The  strain  is  still  prolonged,  in  vibrations  of  ever- widening 
circuit..  .  That  was. an  era  of  eras.  Its  influence  is  fast  becoming 
paramount  throughout  the  civilized  world.  Europe  feels  it  to  her 
utmost  extremities,  in  every  sense,  in  every  fibre,  in  every  pulsation 
of  her  convulsed  and  struggling  energies.  The  great  birth  of  that 
era  is  practical  liberty ;  liberty,  based  on  the  principles  of  the  gospel ; 
liberty,  fiishioned  into  symmetry,  and  beauty,  and  strength,  by  the 
moulding  power  of  Christianity;  liberty,  which  "places  sovereignty 
in  the  hands  of  the  people,  and  then  sends  them  to  the  Bible,  that 
they  may  learn  how  to  wear  the  crown."  "What  a  birth !  Already 
is  the  infant  grown  into  a  giant.  Liberty,  such  as  it  exists  among  us, 
that  is,  impregnated  and  vivified  by  gospel  principles,  and  freed  from 
all  corrupt  and  corrupting  alliances  with  royalty,  has  raised  this 
country  from  colonial  bondage  and  insignificance  to  the  rank  of  a 
leading  power  among  the  governments  of  earth.  It  has  given  her 
a  career  unparalleled  for  rapidity  and  brilliancy  in  all  the  annals  of 
time.  The  five  millions  of  population  which  her  territory  contained 
at  the  beginning  of  this  century  have  swelled  to  twenty-five  millions. 
Her  one  million' oT  i^r^uare  miles  have  expanded  into  nearly  four 
millions.  Iler  sixteen  states  have  grown  into  thirty-one.  Her 
navigation  and  commerce  rival  those  of  the  oldest  and  most  com- 
mercial nations.  Iler  keels  plough  all  waters.  Her  maritime 
means  and  maritime  i)ower  are  seen  on  all  seas  and  oceans,  lakes 
and  rivers.  The  growth  of  her  cities  seems  more  like  magic  than 
reality.  New-York  has  more  than  doubled  her  population  in  ten 
years.  The  man  is  still  living  who  felled  the  first  tree  and  reared 
the  first  log-cabin  on  the  site  of  Cincmnati,  and  now  that  city  contains 
one  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  souls.  It  is  larger  than  the  ancient 
and  venerable  city  of  I!ri5\ol,  in  England. 

Such  has  been  our  career,  and  such  are  its  results.  In  resources, 
present  and  prospective ;  in  available  talent ;  in  popular  education ; 
in  religion ;  in  practical  philanthropy ;  in  indomitable  industry,  to 
which  obstacles  are  but  incentives, — we  would  not,  at  this  moment, 
exchange  conditions  with  the  proudest  nation  on  the  globe.  AYe  ai-e, 
in  every  sense,  a  positive  people.  Negatives  have  no  place  in  the 
elements  cither  of  our  nature  or  our  institutions.     Every  man,  every 


]  853.]  ,      The  Signs  of  the  Times.  435 

organization,  is  instinct  with  earnest  vitalities.  Science,  among  us, 
is  in  order  to  art ;  and  art  is  the  handmaid  of  utiUty.  Philosophical 
speculation  itself  is  valued  only  as  it  conducts  to  practical  issues. 
Life  is  a  great  school,  in  which  the  problems  to  be  solved  are  realities, 
not  abstractions.  Thought,  decision,  action,  are  i\iQ  grand  elements 
of  our  character.  Thus  situated,  and  thus  characterized,  we  cannot, 
if  we  would,  avoid  a  high  and  momentous  responsibility.  We  hold  a 
trust  of  mightiest  significance.  We  hold  it  in  the  sight  of  suffering  and 
struggling  humanity.  Our  example  and  destiny  must  affect  millions 
of  our  fellow-beings  in  their  most  vital  interests.  The  behests  of 
Heaven  are  upon  us.  Let  us  see  to  it,  that  the  trust  is  not  betrayed 
by  exalting  faction  over  patriotism,  and  by  giving  to  party  what  is 
due  to  mankind. 

When  the  nineteenth  ccntui-y  opened,  the  United  States  was 
the  only  republic  on  the  Araeiican  continent.  What  astounding 
changes  have  since  taken  place  in  this  western  world !  There 
is  now  but  one  country  on  the  Avhole  continent — the  em- 
.pire  of  Brazil — where  the  monarchical  form,  of  government  still 
continues  to  prevail.  All  the  rest,  excepting  Canada,  in  imitation 
of  the  United  States,  have,  by  successive  throes,  cast  off  colonial 
dependence  and  bondage,  and,  having  thus  redeemed  a  continent 
from  the  grasp  and  tyranny  of  foreign  domination,  now  rejoice 
in  the  name,  and  strength,  and  elastic  Aigour,  and  energy-  of  young 
republics.  And  there  are  pregnant  indications  that  u  similar  destiny 
awaits  the  only  remaining -monarch}';  that,  ere  the  lapse  of  many 
years,  the  empire  of  Brazil  will  have  been  blotted  from  the  map  of 
America;  and  the  imperial  crown  and  purple,  as  appertaining  to 
this  continent,  will  be  known  only  as  among  the  things  that 
were. 

Contemporaneous  with  these  transactions  on  the  western  continent, 
great  movements  have  been  going  on,  and  gi-eat  results  have  been 
effected  in  other  parts  of  the  globe.  As  f\r  back  as  17  ST,  that 
intelligent  and  sagacious  emperor,  Joseph  II.  of  Austria,  observed, 
that  the  American  revolution  had  given  birth  to  reflections  on  freedom. 
The  fact,  which  the  penetration  of  that  monarch  discerned  at  so 
early  a  day,  now  stands  out,  with  the  clearness  of  sunlight,  to  the 
observation  and  knowledge  of  the  whole  world.  The  people  of 
Europe  have  deeply  felt  this  influence;  and  their  sentiments,  and 
opinions,  and  action  have  been  greatly  modified  thereby.  High 
thoughts,  high  hopes,  high  aspirings  have  been  kindled  in  men's 
bosoms  by  the  example  of  American  freedom.  During  the  entire 
of  the  half-century  now  closed,  there  has  been  a  perpetual  struggle 
on  the  part  of  power  to  retain  and  enforce  its  rule.     B evolutionary 


436  The  Signs  of  the  Times.  [July, 

agitations  have  never  ceased;  but  they  burst  forth  with  a  violence, 
hitlierto  quite  mikno^Yn,  in  the  gi-eat  crisis  of  184S.  Then  kings  fled. 
Tyrannical  ministers  fled.  The  pope  fled.  And  it  seemed  as  if 
the  ^yhole  system  of  aristocratic  and  arbitrary  rule  was  about  to  fall 
into  irretrievable  ruin.  Gre;it  was  the  tumult  of  kingdoms,  deep 
calling  unto  deep,  with  responses  loud  and  portentous.  There  is  a 
lull  in  the  storm  at  present ;  but  the  tempest  is  not  over.  There  is  a 
suspension  of  the  volcanic  action ;  but  the  lava  boils  and  rages,  deep 
in  the  bowels  of  the  flcry  mountain.  In  due  time,  it  will  burst 
forth,  and  there  will  be  an  eruption  of  popular  power  that  will  bury 
despotism  deeper  fir  than  the  lava  and  ashes  of  Vesuvius  entombed 
the  cities  of  Ilcrculaneum  and  Pompeii.  We  have  a  most  sig- 
nificant token  of  the  times,  in  the  present  condition  of  the 
papacy.  Never  before,  since  Luther  hurled  his  iron  gauntlet  at 
the  door  of  the  Vatican,  has  Rome  tottered  and  reeled  as  under 
the  heaving  of  the  political  earthquake  of  1S48.  The  papacy, 
though  not  dead,  is  dying;  and,  like  an  expiring  giant,  it  puts 
forth  gigantic  ciicrgies,  even  in  the  death- stniggle.  Its  latest 
usurpation,  the  daring  attempt  to  reestablish  its  ecclesiastical  rule 
and  cast  the  fetters  of  its  worn-out  superstition  over  gospel- 
enlightened  England,  is  not  the  effect  of  conscious  health  and  power, 
but  rather  a  spasm  of  waning  vitality. 

But  American  thought,  American  genius,  American  freedom 
have  extended  their  inliucnce  far  beyond  the  confines  of  European 
life  and  society.  'J'urkcy,  Egypt,  Algiers,  and  a  long  belt  on  the 
western  coast  of  Africa,  have  felt  their  genial  power.  The  Sultan 
has  established  religious  liberty  by  law.  Persia  owns  the  healthful 
pressure  of  Christian  intelligence.  In  India,  England  has  subjected 
to  her  laws,  and  is  1n-ingiiig  under  the  poAver  of  her  civilization,  an 
empire  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  millions.  She  has  unbolted  the 
gates  of  the  celestial  empire,  and  tlirown  open  to  all  the  agencies 
of  Christian  benevolence  a  population  of  three  hundred  and  sixty 
millions  of  souls.  She  has  discovered,  and  peopled,  and  blessed  with 
gospel  light  and  institutions,  the  vast  island,  or,  more  properly, 
continent,  of  Australia.  The  wild  Indians  of  America,  the  rovmg 
hunters  and  herdsmen  of  Asia,  the  irabruted  savages  of  Africa,  the 
cannibal  barbarians  of  PolNmesia,  and  the  stolid  and  changeless 
dwellers  in  the  flowery  land,  fenced  round  as  they  have  hitherto  been 
by  an  adamantine  wall  of  prejudice,  have  all  been  breathed  upon 
by  the  influences  of  a  higher  life. 

Before  leaving  this  branch  of  the  subject,  there  are  two  other  signs 
of  the  times  which  deserve  a  distinct,  though  it  must  be  a  brief, 
notice.     One  is  the  growth,  power,  and  character  of  the  Russian 


1853.]  The  Signs  of  the  Times.  -437 

empire ;  the  other,  the  swelling  floods  of  foreign  immigration  con- 
tinually pouring  into  this  country. 

Russia,  as  a  European  power,  started  into  being  nearly  contem- 
poraneously -with  the  United  States.  Her  growth  has  been  quite  as 
rapid.  The  elements  of  her  power  are, — a  territory  covering  a  full 
seventh  of  the  earth's  surface;  a  population  of  fifty-four  millions: 
a  standing  army  of  one  million  well-disciplined  soldiers;  a  vast 
military  and  commercial  marine;  extensive  manufactures;  inex- 
haustible resources  of  wealth ;  the  most  ambitious  hopes  and  aspir- 
ings ;  and,  last  though  not  least,  the  bounding  vigour  and  elasticity 
of  a  youthful  existence.  She  is  the  leading  power  of  the  old  world. 
She  dictates  the  policy  of  most  of  the  European  cabinets.  x\s  to 
her  government,  she  is  the  impersonation  of  despotism.  She  centres 
all  authority  in  a  single  head,  all  power  in  a  single  arm.  The  whole 
virus  of  European  absolutism  is  distilled  and  concentrated  in  her. 
There  must  be  some  great  design  of  Providence  in  this.  Mr.  Godwin 
has  made  a  rational  conjecture  as  to  what  it  is ;  viz.,  that  by  the 
defeat  of  a  single  power,  when  the  fulness  of  the  time  for  Russia's 
fall  has  come,  tyranny  might  be  extinguished  forever,  blotted  by  a 
single  blow  from  the  face  of  the  whole  earth. 

We  have  mentioned  immigi-ation  into  this  countiy  as  another 
pregnant  token  of  the  times.  Famine,  oppression,  and  political 
disturbances  at  home,  and  the  inviting  prospects  held  out  by  tliese 
chmes  of  the  setting  sun,  are  rapidly  draining  the  old  world  of  its 
superabundant  population.  Witliin  the  last  ten  years,  nearly  three 
millions  of  British  subjects  have  transferred  their  home  to  our  shores, 
and  their  allegiance  to  our  government.  From  Germany,  Denmark. 
Norway,  Sweden,  Switzerland,  and  Hungary,  the  emigration  has 
been,  dm-ing  the  same  period,  unwontedly  great.  The  stream 
continues  to  flow  steadily,  with  a  constantly  widening  sweep  and 
accelerated  force.  This  stream  is  already  beginning  to  be  met  by 
a  contrary  current  setting  towards  the  shores  of  the  Pacific,  now 
our  western  boundary,  from  the  isles  of  the  ocean  and  the  countries 
of  eastern  Asia.  So  numerous  are  the  immigrants  from  China,  that 
they  have  erected  an  idol-temple  in  San  Francisco,  the  first  that 
ever  polluted  American  soil. 

From  this  rapid  survey  of  the  signs  of  the  times  in  the  political 
world,  it  is  manifest,  that  Providence  is  teeming  with  great  designs, 
that  the  future  is  pregnant  with  stupendous  and  beneficent  events. 
"  The  world  is  opening  to  receive  a  Christian  civilization,  by  which 
the  process  of  universal  redemption  will  be  rapidly  consummated." 

Our  last  inquiry  relates  to  the  domain  of  the  Church. 

In  glancing  at  this  department  of  our  subject,  we  are  constrained 


438   •  The  Signs  of  the  Times.  [July, 

to  exclaim,  "What  hath  God  -wrought!  How  -vronderful  are  his 
signs  1"  Great  are  the  changes  that  have  been  wrought,  and  the 
results  that  have  been  achieved,  -within  the  last  fifty  years.  Until 
a  fe-w  years  before  the  opening  of  the  present  century,  no  sect  of 
Christians  had  sent  out  missionaries  to  the  heathen,  except  the 
Moravians.  I^o  Bible,  tract,  or  missionary  societies  -were  in  existence. 
An  infidel  press  was  busy  in  scattering  its  pestilent  productions  far 
and  wide ;  and  the  poison  of  infidelity  had  distilled  its  venom  deep 
into  the  -vitals  of  society,  corrupting  the  very  fountains  of  social 
nrtue.  Ko  bow  of  promise  in  respect  to  the  hcatlien  world  had  as 
yet  appeai-ed  in  the  spiritual  heavens.  The  cities  of  northern  Africa 
were  nests  of  pirates.  Her  long  line  of  western  coast  was  a  mere 
hunting-ground  of  slaves.  The  British  East  India  Company  refused 
to  let  a  single  missionary  set  foot  on  the  soil  of  India.  "Walls  of 
adamant  shut  out  the  heralds  of  the  cross  from  China,  from  Japan, 
from  Turkey,  from  Persia,  and  from  the  tenitorics  of  the  papacy. 
Few  of  the  languages  spoken  on  the  islands  of  the  sea,  the  continent 
of  Africa,  and  by  the  various  tribes  of  American  Indians,  had  ever 
been  reduced  to  writing ;  and  they  were  all  scanty  in  terms  fitted  to 
convey  the  truths  of  the  gospel  to  the  mind.  The  written  languages 
of  Asia  were  but  little  if  any  better  suited  to  such  a  purpose.  The 
Bible  was  translated  into  scarcely  one  of  them.  Such  were  some 
of  the  obstacles  and  discouragements  in  the  way  of  missionary  efforts 
for  the  conversion  of  the  heatlicn. 

But  what  a  change !  Almost  the  entire  globe  is  now  freely  open 
to  missionary  labom-.  The  spirit  of  intolerance  is  chained.  There 
is  no  beheading  and  no  burning  fur  religious  opinions  in  any  quarter 
of  the  earth.  Cinist  crucified  can  be  everywhere  preached  in  safety. 
The  chief  of  the  Ottoman  empire  now  protects  and  honours 
the  faith  which  once  ho  destroyed,  since  he  sees  it  bringing 
forth  abundantly  the  fruits  of  righteousness.  "  Scarcely  an 
evangelical  denomination  exists  that  has  not  its  society  for  giving 
the  gospel  to  the  heathen.  The  missionaries  of  these  societies  are 
found  over  the  whole  world :  in  our  western  wilds ;  on  the  islands 
of  the  sea ;  in  Labrador  and  Greenland ;  far  towards  the  centre  of 
Africa,  as  well  as  along  its  extended  coasts;  dotting  with  their 
stations  the  Ottoman  empire  and  Southern  Asia;  and  gaining  a 
foothold  on  the  sides  of  China.  They  are  already  numbered  by 
thousands.  Everywhere  churches  arc  springing  up.  Those  among 
the  heathen  who  call  upon  the  name  of  the  Lord  are  hundreds  of 
thousands.  In  one  instance,  that  of  the  Sandwich  Islands,  a  nation 
has  been  created.  More  than  two  hundred  versions  of  the  Bible 
have  been  made  and  circulated.     "When  a  lanmuiji-e  had  not  been 


1853.]  Tlie  Signs  of  the  Times.  439 

written,  its  fleetin;^  sounds,  as  they  issued  from  the  tongue,  were 
caught  and  fixed ;  its  laws  determined ;  and  at  length,  after  incredible 
pains,  they  to  whom  written  words  had  been  a  matter  of  greatest 
astonishment,  were  able  to  read,  in  the  tongue  in  which  they  were 
born,  the  wonderful  works  of  God.'' 

At  the  beginning  of  the  present  centmy,  there  were  not  four 
millions  of  copies  of  the  Bible  on  the  globe.  Since  then  more  than 
thirty  millions  of  copies  have  been  issued  by  Bible  societies  alone,  a 
greater  number  than  had  been  issued  in  all  preceding  ages,  since  the 
invention  of  printing ;  and  these  are  over  and  above  the  millions 
that  have  been  published  by  private  enterprise.  When  the  century 
opened,  the  Scriptures  had  been  printed  in  languages  spoken  by 
about  two  hundred  millions  of  people ;  now  they  have  been  published 
in  languages  spoken  by  the  great  majority  of  all  the  dwellers  on  earth's 
isles  and  continents. 

Such  are  the  signs  of  the  times  in  the  de])artment  of  the  Church. 
The  world  lies  open  for  the  reception  of  the  gospel,  and  a  great 
highway  has  been  cast  up  for  spreading  the  knowledge  of  salvation 
to  the  utmost  limits  of  human  abode.  The  benevolent  institutions 
of  the  Church  are  sending  out  their  agents  by  thousands,  and  causing 
a  wonderful  increase  of  knowledge.  Steam-presses  are  scattering 
the  words  of  life  far  and  near,  in  every  direction,  thick  as  autumnal 
leaves.  The  corrupting  alliances  of  religion  with  worldly  pomj)  and 
power  are  giving  way.  The  crescent  is  no  longer  a  fitting  emblem 
of  the  Moslem  faith;  for  its  moon  is  on  the  wane.  The  papal 
superstition,  which  has  degraded  Christianity  almost  to  a  level  with 
paganism,  and  the  idolatries  of  paganism  itself,  are  sinking  into 
decrepitude  together.  The  papacy,  which  flourished  in  the  <larknes3. 
is  confounded  by  the  blaze  of  day;  and  false  religions,  the  most 
venerable  for  their  antiquity,  the  most  deeply-seated  in  the  hearts  of 
men,  and  the  most  strongly  entrenched  in  tlieir  prejudices,  are  melt- 
ing away  before  the  genial  Avarmth  of  a  better  faith.  Even  in  inrlia, 
the  great  stronghold  of  idolatry,  a  moral  revolution  is  in  silent 
progress,  which  is  shaking  the  system  of  llindooism,  blotting  out  its 
darker  features,  and  introducing  into  it  more  liberal  and  enlightened 
elements.  The  star  of  hope  for  the  benighted  nations  shines  brighter, 
and  peers  higher  above  the  horizon,  than  ever  it  has  done  before. 
In  short,  all  things  seem  tending  to  one  grand  consummation,  when 
the  kingdoms  of  this  world  shall  become  the  kingdoms  of  our  Lord 
and  of  his  Christ,  and  he  shall  reign  forever  and  ever;  when  the 
whole  earth  shall  become  a  great  temple,  whence  prayer  and  praise 
shall  ascend  to  the  universal  Father  from  the  hearts  of  all  his  chililxen. 
Well  may  our  hearts  exult  in  these  bright  tokens  of  coming  glory, 


440  The  Signs  of  the  Times.  [July, 

as  they  catch  o.  portion  of  that  joy  which  swelled  the  hearts  of  the 
eastern  sages,  when,  on  leavLiig  Jerusalem  for  Bethlehem,  they  saw 
the  star  that  guided  them  to  the  spot  where  the  infant  Redeemer 
was  cradled. 

The  signs  of  the  times,  as  thus  developed,  lay  upon  us  solemn 
duties  and  inspire  cheering  hopes.  We  proceed  to  unfold  both  the 
one  and  the  other. 

Here  we  observe,  first,  that  the  signs  of  the  times  point  to  a  great 
.  duty  incumbent  upon  us,  as  American  patriots.  It  was  a  celebrated 
saying  of  Archimedes,  that,  if  he  had  a  fulcrum  for  his  lever, 
he  could  move  the  world.  The  dream  of  the  ancient'  philo- 
sopher is  the  realization  of  our  youthful  repubhc.  Standing 
upon  the  soil  of  freedom,  and  using  the  lever  of  Christian  civili- 
zation, we  have  a  place  whereon,  and  a  power  wherewith,  not 
only  to  move  the  world  but  to  transform  it  from  a  desolate  wilder- 
ness into  the  garden  of  the  Lord,  covering  it  with  the  light  of  truth 
and  the  beauty  of  holiness.  There  are  two  principles,  American 
principles  we  may  call  them  in  a  preeminent  sense,  which  may  be 
made  to  mould  and  sway  the  destinies  of  this  earth.  These  prin- 
ciples are  popular  constitutional  government  and  universal  Christian 
education.  If  we  are  true  to  our  position  and  the  trust  which  it 
involves,  these  principles  will  move  on,  with  a  constantly  increasing 
momentum,  till  they  shall  have  completed  the  circuit  of  the  earth, 
dropping  everywhere,  in  their  course,  the  inestimable  blessings  of 
truth,  liberty,  virtue,  rolinemcnt,  and  happiness.  Such  is  our  mission 
as  a  nation ;  such  the  part  as.^igned  us  by  Providence  in  the  great 
work  of  improving  human  affairs.  Our  path  is  straight  onward, 
and  as  clearly  defined  to  the  view  as  the  milky  girdle  of  the  heavens 
in  a  cloudless  night.  We  must  stand  by  the  constitution  of  our 
countiy.  If  that  perish,  our  happiness  perishes  with  it ;  the  hopes 
that  now  swell  the  hearts  of  millions  of  om'  race  are  extinguished; 
the  sublime  enteiiiriscs  of  Christian  philanthropy  are  aiTCsted;  and 
the  chariot-wheels  of  the  gospel,  that  are  now  rolling  on  to  the 
conquest  of  a  world,  are  stopped,  turned  back,  and  made  to  recede 
far  within  the  line  to  which  they  have  already  advanced.  We  must 
stand  by  the  laws  of  our  country,  frowning  upon  those  sentiments  of 
revolutionary  violence  which  have  of  late  been  so  freely  proclaimed 
from  various  quarters.  We  must  stand  by  the  rulers  of  our  country, 
honoiu-ing  them  as  the  ministers  of  God  to  us  for  good.  We  must 
stand  by  the  schools  of  our  country,  multiplying  and  purifying  these 
fountains  of  knowledge.  ^Vc  must  imbibe  the  spirit,  and  pray 
the  prayers,  and  live  the  life  of  Christ;  for  then  are  we  the  best 
citizens  when  we  are  the  best  Christians.    A  free  government,  a 


1853.]  The  Signs  of  the  Times.  441 

free  gospel,  a  free  education,  an  open  Bible,  a  reverence  for  law,  and 
an  enlightened,  earnest,  active  piety, — these  are  the  appropriate, 
the  vitalizing  elements  of  American  institutions  and  American 
character.  To  give  them  a  broader  development  and  a  higher 
activity  is  the  paramount  duty  of  American  citizenship. 

We  observe,  secondly,  that  one  of  the  signs  of  the  times,  noticed 
above,  involves  a  duty  vrhich  presses  with  great  force  on  American 
Christians, — v.'e  refer  to  the  foreign  immigration,  -which  is  pouring, 
like  the  tides  of  the  ocean,  upon  our  shores.  The"  oppressed  and 
stifled  milHons  of  Europe  arc  rushing  to  this  new  land  of  promise. 
to  breathe  the  air  of  hope  and  freedom.  A  stream  of  Asiatic  and 
Polynesian  immigration  has  ah-eady  begun  to  set  towards  our  terri- 
tories on  the  Pacific  coast.  AVe  may  not  be  able,  and  probably  are 
not  able,  to  comprehend  all  that  God  intends  by  this  movement; 
for  his  purposes,  in  whatever  he  docs,  stretch  forward  into  eternity, 
and  spread  themselves  out  over  his  illimitable  empire.  Yet  there  is 
a  meaning  in  it  that  we  can  understand.  We  may  not  know  enough 
for  curiosity ;  but  we  know  enough  f  jr  duty.  Our  cravings  may  not  be 
satisfied  by  what  we  see ;  but  our  con.'?cience  is  bound  by  it.  To  these 
strangers  from  such  a  multitude  of  strange  lands  we  owe  many  and 
solemn  duties.  The  first  is  a  Christian  welcome  to  our  shores. 
a  Christian  cave  for  their  bodily  comfort,  and  a  Christian  solicitude 
for  their  spiritual  welfare.  Then  we  owe  them  the  blessings  of. a 
Christian  press, — the  Bible,  the  tract,  the  religious  newspaper,  and 
the  volume  breathing  the  gentle  sjiirit  and  Iroiglitcd  with  the  living 
•words  of  Christ.  !Ne.\t  we  are  under  obligation — God  has  laid  this 
obligation  upon  us  by  sending  them  here— to  provide  a  body  of 
devoted  missionaries,  who  may  preach  to  them  the  story  of  the  cross 
in  the  various  languages  wherein  they  were  born.  "We  owe  their 
children  a  Christian  education.  Every  proper  inducement  ought  to 
be  held  out,  and  every  proper  effort  made  to  bring  them  into  the 
common  school  and  the  Sabbatli  school,  where  they  may  be  taught 
to  practise  the  duties  of  citizen.-hip  here,  and  to  aspire  to  the 
privileges  of  a  higher  citizenship  above. 

For  ourselves,  we  do  not  sliare  in  the  fears  felt  by  many  on 
account  of  the  influ.x  of  foreigners.  We  do  not  believe  that  our 
institutions  are  thereby  endangered.  On  the  contrary,  we  feel 
thankful  to  the  sovereign  Disposer  of  all  good,  that  we  have  a 
country  which  is  the  true  Bethe.-da,  a  house  of  mercy  for  the 
suffering  of  all  lands.  It  is  true,  they  come  here  deeply  igno- 
rant, but  they  come  that  they  may  be  enlightened.  It  is  so 
much  work  brought  to  our  own  doors,  without  the  labour  and 
expense  of  seeking  it  elsewhere      Lessons  of  wisdom  are  here 

Fourth  Series,  Vol.  V.— 28 


442  The  Signs  of  the  Times.  [July, 

imparted  to  them,  Avliich  neither  they  would  have  been  so  apt  to  learn, 
nor  vre  so  earnest  to  touch,  if  they  had  stayed  at  home.  When  they 
become  fellow-citizens  with  us,  we  must  instruct  th^m.  The  penalty 
of  neglect  is  our  own  ruin.  Either  we  must  give  the  truth  to  them, 
or  we  must  lose  it  ourselves.  Thus  to  all  the  other  motives  impelling 
us  to  seek  their  enlightenment  and  conversion  there  is  superadded 
the  powerful  one  of  self-interest. 

JBut  we  believe  that  Providence  has  a  higher  end  in  view  than  the 
benefit  which  these  cmigi-ants  receive  here.  There  is  an  incident  in  the 
early  history  of  the  Church  which  is  highly  instructive  in  this  connex- 
ion. At  the  wondcj-ful  eilusion  of  the  Spirit  on  the  day  of  Pentecost, 
there  were  present,  and  among  the  converts,  persons  from  all  parts 
of  the  civilized  world.  These,  when  they  returned  to  their  respective 
homes,  carried  the  story  of  the  cross  to  the  ends  of  the  earth.  So 
it  may  be,  so  it  probably  will  be,  in  this  case.  God  has  sent  these 
"sons  of  the  stranger"  to  school  in  this  western  hemisphere,  to 
loam  our  religion,  laws,  and  institutions;  that,  when  the  door  is 
opened  in  providence,  they  may  carry  these  blessings  back  to  their 
father- lands. 

We  observe,  thinlly,  that  the  signs  of  the  times  call  for  a  higher 
typo  of  Christian  character,  for  a  more  active,  stirring,  laborious 
piety,  than  the  exigencies  of  the  Church  have  heretofore  demanded. 
The  essentials  of  ].or<oiial  religion  must  ever  be  the  same;  but  they 
will  manifest  themselves  variously,  according  to  the  varying  circum- 
stances in  which  tlicy  may  be  placed.  AVhen  war  is  at  our  doors, 
when  pestilence  is  marching  through  the  land,  when  famine  is  piling 
its  dead  in  our  street.-^,  when  the  fires  of  persecution  are  raging, 
when  death  is  in  th«^  dwelling,  the  behaviour  of  a  Christian  is  dif- 
ferent, and  ought  to  bo  difTercnt,  from  what  it  is  under  circumstances 
the  reverse  of  all  this.  So  the  aspect  of  the  times  will  modify  the 
bearing  of  the  Christ  ian.  The  colour  of  the  age,  so  to  speak,  will  tinge 
the  piety  of  the  age.  The  Puritans  of  the  age  of  Baxter  were  men 
of  deep  religious  feeling,  and  acted  up  to  their  convictions,  as  much 
as  men  ever  did.  P>ut  we  must  not  ask  how  much  the  Christians 
of  that  age  gave  for  the  conversion  of  the  heathen,  in  order  to  judge 
how  much  the  Christians  of  this  age  ought  to  give ;  for  the  conversion 
of  the  heathen  was  then  scarcely  thought  of  Two  thousand  godly 
ministers  were  then  driven  from  their  pulpits,  and  they  retired  to 
their  closets  to  write  books ;  for  which  God  be  praised.  If  the 
same  thing  should  happen  to-morrow,  the  sun  does  not  shine  upon 
the  regions  which  would  not  resound  with  their  voices,  before  he  had 
completed  another  annual  revolution. 

To  know,  then,  what  is  the  particular  phase  of  Christian  character 


1853.]  The  Signs  of  the  Times.'  443* 

which  God  would  have  us  Avear,  it  is  only  necessaiy  to  inquire,  ■ 
"What  are  the  signs  of  the  times?  'What  is  the  spirit  of  the  age? 
What  do  passing  events  foretoken  ?"  1  {'  then,  it  should  now  be  asked, 
in  the  words  of  the  prophet,  "  Watchman,  what  of  the  night?"  The 
answer  is  furnished  by  the  same  divine  book,  "  The  morning  cometh."  ' 
Yes,  the  time  of  rest,  the  promised  Sabbath,  is  approaching.  The 
millennial  era  is  casting  its  goodly  shadow  before.  And  no  other  times 
have  ever  portended  the  millennium.  The  apostolic  age,  glorious  as  its 
signs  were,  did  not.  That  age  could  not  give  the  Bible  to  the  whole 
world;  and  without  a  general  diffusion  of  the  word  of  God,  as 
experience  has  shown,  there  cannot  be  much  stability  of  religious 
doctrine.  Hence  the  ten  centuries  of  darkness  vrhich  afiiicted  the 
Church — a  darkness  nearly  as  deep  as  that  of  the  paganism  out  of 
which  she  had  emerged.  The  signs  of  the  Reformation  times  did  not 
promise  the  millennium.  The  idolatries  in  the  Church  gave  the 
reformers  too  much  trouble  to  leave  them  much  time  to  think  of  the 
idolatries  out  of  it.  The  pagan  world  was  then  almost  as  much 
unknown  as  if  it  had  belonged  to  another  planet.  The  Scriptures 
had  been  ti-anslated  into  but  few  of  the  languages  of  earth.  The 
means  of  intercourse  between  distant  places  were  limited.  Convey- 
ance was  slow,  cumbrous,  expensive,  and  perilous.  There  were  no 
facilities  for  multiplying  Bibles,  tracts,  and  religious  books.  Indeed, 
few  had  then  been  written,  except  by  monks  and  schoolmen;  the 
former,  silly  legends  of  pretended  saiiits:  the  latter,  finespun  and 
ponderous  metaphysical  treatises.  iS'obly,  and  with  unrivalled  ability, 
did  the  reformers  do  battle  against  the  errors  and  absurdities  of 
popery ;  but  to  usher  in  the  millennium  was  not  thcu*  mission.  That 
is  an  honour  reserved  for  our  times ;  a  laurel,  with  which  the  Church 
of  the  nineteenth  century  shall  encircle  her  brow,  if  she  do  not  prove 
recreant  to  herself  and  her  God. 

It  is  a  blessed  privilege  to  live  in  this  age, — an  age  of  such' 
high  and  glorious  promise.  Better  to  live  now  than  to  have  been 
attendants  upon  the  personal  ministry  of  Christ.  Better  to  live 
now  than  in  the  millennium  itself;  since  we  may  share  in  the  glorj- 
of  hastening  its  approach.  But  the  spirit  of  the  millennium  must 
breathe  upon  us,  or  we  shall  do  little  towards  promoting  the  coming  of 
the  millennium.  The  piety  of  the  Puritans,  the  piety  of  the  reformers, 
the  piety  even  of  the  apostohc  age.  is  not  the  piety  which  the  present 
times  demand.  Wq  want  a  giving  piety;  a  missionary  piety;  a 
piety  that  feels  as  Christ  felt,  and  acts  as  Christ  acted,  and  prays 
as  Christ  prayed ;  a  piety  that  is  ready  to  forsake  kindred,  home, 
and  country,  and  go  far  hence  among  the  Gentiles.  We  want 
missionary  merchants,  missionary  farmers,  missionary  mech:iiiics, 


444  The  Signs  of  the  Times.  [July, 

missionary  laNvyers,  and  missionary  physicians,  as  ^yell  as  missionary 
preachers.  "We  do  not  mean  simply  men  of  these  callings  to  go  to 
heathen  lands ;  but  men  in  all  the  walks  of  life,  who,  here  at  home, 
T7l11  plan,  and  work,  and  live,  with  the  sole  end  in  view  of  accumulating 
means  to  carry  forward  the  benevolent  operations  of  the  day.  There 
are  some  such.  But  the  number  ought  to  be  greatly  increased. 
Increased  did  we  say  ?  The  Church  of  Christ,  in  these  days,  should 
contain  none  who  do  not  act  on  tliis  principle.  A  Christian  ought 
to'be  a  follower  of  Christ;  and  for  what  end  did  Jesus  live  but  the 
salvation  of  the  world?  The  furtherance  of  the  gospel,  the  con- 
version of  the  world, — this  is  the  one  grand  pursuit,  which  all 
Christians  ought  now  to  propose  to  themselves.  Behold  the  spirit, 
the  manner  of  life,  and  the  end,  which  become  the  Church  of  the 
living  God  in  the  present  age.  Behold  the  spirit,  and  imbibe  it. 
Behold  the  manner  of  life,  and  conform  to  it.  Behold  the  end,  and 
pursue  it. 

There  is,  indeed,  a  constant  demand  upon  Christians  to  live  for 
the  promotion  of  His  cause  who  redeemed  them  with  his  blood. 
But  as  surely  as  the  heavens  do  rule  in  the  affairs  of  men,  this  claim 
presses  at  the  present  day,  with  redoubled  force,  upon  the  conscience 
of  the  Church,  enforced  by  those  signal  operations  of  the  divine 
hand  which  mark  the  current  century.  Let  this  consideration  stir 
us  up  to  an  equally  signal  cxemphfication  of  the  power  of  godli- 
ness. "This  is  the  victory  that  overcometh  the  vrorld,  even 
our  faith."  Faith  enables  us  to  devote  our  life  to  the  good 
of  those  whom  we  know  only  as  redeemed  by  the  blood  of 
Christ.  Faith  emboldens  us  to  assail  forms  of  en-or  and  of  sin, 
hoary  with  age,  and  entrenched  in  prejudices  firm  as  the  lasting 
hills.  Faith  gives  us  heart  to  toil  on,  and  die  in  hope,  even  with 
the  darkness  of  midnight  still  resting  on  the  mountains;  how  much 
more,  when  the  golden  light  of  the  millennial  morn  is  seen  shooting 
above  the  spiritual  horizon.  Faith  has  a  might  which  is  infinite, 
for  the  strength  of  omnipotence  is  hers ;  and  eternity  will  vindicate 
her  claim  to  it. 

The  most  exalted  and  animating  hopes  are  inspired  by  a  sui'vey 
of  the  signs  of  the  times.  'We  do  but  give  utterance  to  the  honest 
conviction  of  our  judgment  in  expressing  the  opinion,  that,  if  the 
whole  Ciu-istian  Church  would  come  up  to  the  mark  of  duty,  if 
Christendom  itself  were  thoroughly  christianized,  there  is  talent 
enough,  wealth  enough,  and  numbers  enough,  to  accomplish  the 
evangelization  of  the  globe  within  the  present  century.  We  cannot 
but  give  a  momentary  indulgence  to  the  pleasing  dream  that  all 
Christians  will  open  their  hearts  fully  to  the  influence  of  the  signs 


1853.]  The  Signs  of  the  Times.  445 

of  the  times.  Assuming  that  this  will  be  so,  our  thoughts  bound 
forward  to  meet  the  men  who  shall  stand  in  the  pulpits  of  the  earth 
on  the  first  Sabbath  of  the  next  century.  What  a  \\%\or\  of  glory 
bursts  upon  our  eye,  and  ravishes  our  soul !  The  light  that  shines 
from  Zion's  hill  is  streaming  all  around.  The  dominion  of  Buddha, 
throughout  all  the  wide  realms  where  his  sceptre  once  bore  sway, 
has  been  superseded  by  the  dominion  of  the  Prince  of  peace.  The 
shasters  of  Brahminism  have  been  exchanged  for  the  oracles  of  the 
true  God.  The  hundi-ed  thousand  deities  of  the  Hindoo  pantheon, 
with  all  the  other  idols  of  the  nations,  have  been  banished  from 
under  the  heavens ;  their  temples  are  fallen ;  and  their  worship  is 
perished.  The  vision  that  filled  the  prophetic  eye  of  the  psalmist, 
when  he  saw  Ethiopia  stretching  out  her  hands  unto  God,  is  accom- 
plished; and  the  breathings  of  a  new  and  higher  life  stir  the  soul 
of  the  whole  African  continent.  The  horrors  of  the  middle  passage 
are  known  only  in  history.-  The  thousand  islands  of  the  Pacific 
have  heard  and  embraced  the  news  of  a  crucified  Bedeemer.  The 
false  prophet  of  the  Moslem  faith  has  fled  abashed  before  the  true 
prophet  of  the  Christian  faith.  The  rnan  of  sin  has  filled  up  the 
measure  of  his  iniquities,  and  has  sunk  beneath  the  floods  of  divine 
wrath,  to  appear  no  more  forever.  The  blindness  of  the  Jews  is  ended 
in  their  cordial  reception  of  Jesus  of  Nazareth.  The  e3'-es  of  a 
pantheistic  philosophy,  and  an  infidel  science,  have  been  couched; 
and  they  now  see  and  own  their  God.  The  crimson  banner  of  war 
is  furled ;  his  bloody  footprints  are  erased ;  the  trumpet  of  carnage 
is  hushed;  and  the  chariot  of  conquest  is  burnt  in  the  fii-e.  The 
abundance  of  the  sea — not  only  the  isles  which  gem  its  shining 
bosom,  but  the  riches,  power,  and  glory  of  commerce — have  been 
converted  unto  God.  In  every  region  of  the  globe  the  spires  of 
Christian  temples  leap  exulting  to  the  skies.  The  worship  of  this 
Sabbath — the  first  in  the  year  1900 — begins  on  the  shores  of  eastern 
Asia  in  the  crowded  cities  of  China,  Japan,  and  Australia.  The 
strain,  swelled  by  hundreds  of  millions  of  voices,  traverses  the  broad 
expanse  of  the  eastern  hemisphere ;  leaps  across  the  Atlantic  Avave ; 
rolls  onward,  as  the  hours  advance,  till  it  mingles  with  the  murmurs 
of  the  Pacific  Ocean;  is  caught  and  repeated  by  the  dwellers  in  the 
sea;  and  is  prolonged  from  isle  to  isle,  and  from  group  to  group, 
till  it  fairly  completes  the  circuit  of  the  globe ;  and  the  sublime  vrords 
of  the  Christian  poet  are  fulfilled,  that 

"Earth  rolls  the  rapturous  ho.=;anua  round." 

To  this  consummation  all  prophecy  points ;  to  this  all  things  are 
now  visibly  tending.     The  glorious  jubilee  may  not  be  so  near  at 


,446  Father  Reeves.  .  [July, 

haiid  as  we  have  supposed ;  but  it  will  surely  come.  The  future  is 
full  of  sublime  promise ; — to  the  Father  of  all  ages  we  may  commit 
that  future  with  a  serene  and  unfaltering  courage.  Out  of  Zion, 
the  perfection  of  beauty,  God  will  shine;  and  the  Redeemer, 
appearing  in  his  glory  to  reign  over  a  ransomed  world,  shall  wear 
the  crown  of  his  millennial  kingdom.  "When  the  Judge  of  quick  and 
dead  shall  sit  upon  the  great  white  throne,  and  reality  shall  have 
taken  the  place  of  seeming,  to  have  contributed,  but  a  single  pra3'er 
to  that  result,  to  have  swelled  by  the  addition  of  two  mites  the 
charity  which  has  borne  tlie  lifeboat  of  the  cross  to  the  stranded 
and  perishing  nations,  to  have  bestowed  a  draught  of  cold  water 
upon  a  weary  missionary  panting  at  his  Avork  beneath  an  equatorial 
sun,  will  be  accounted  a  higher  honour,  and  will  meet  a  better 
reward,  than  to  have  returned  from  the  conquest  of  a  Avorld  with 
garments  rolled  in  blood,  and  followed  by  the  shouts  of  applauding 
mDlions. 


Art.  Vm.— father  REEVES. 


Father  Reeves,  the  Methodist  Clats-Leader  :  a  Brief  Jccount  of  Mr.  William  Reeves, 
Thirty-four  Years  n  Clttss-Leader  in  the  WesJcyan  Methodist  Society,  Lambeth. 
B7  Edvard  CoiotixoY.    l^mo.,  pp.  ICO.    New-York :  Carlton  &  Phillips.    18-53. 

Ix  the  winter  of  180^,  a  poor  young  countryman  found  his  way  to 
Lambeth  Chapel,  London,  lie  listened  to  the  message  to  the  Church 
of  Laodicea,  opened  his  heart  to  the  word,  and  determined  to  lead  a 
new  life.  The  record  of  that  life  is  given  in  the  book  named  at  the 
head  of  this  article, — one  of  the  richest  of  those  "annals  of  the 
poor"  which  illustrate  so  beautifully  the  history  of  Methodism  as 
of  Christianity.  'J'hc  story  of  his  early  life  and  conversion  is  told 
in  a  simple  autobiography,  which  forms  the  second  chapter  of  the 
volume;  and  much  of  wiiat  follows  is  made  up  from  manuscript 
records  left  behind  him  by  the  good  old  man.  The  whole  history 
shows  how  a  single  aim  can  give  energy  and  even  glory  to  the 
humblest  life ;  how  a  determination  to  do  the  nearest  duty  can  make 
out  of  an  arti.-^an,  toiling  for  his  daily  bread  from  youth  to  hoary 
age,  an  apostolic  missionary  of  religion.  Mr.  Reeves  was,  through 
life,  a  journey  man  coach- maker,  who  probably  never  earned  more 
than  eight  dollars  a  week — in  most  of  his  best  days  rarely  more 
than  seven — and  who  yet 

"always  maintained  a  coniforlable  tliouijb  frugal  Lome;  always  sustained 
according  to  bis  ability  the  institutions  of  Methodism;  saved  a  trifle  for  old 


1853.]  Father  Reeves.  447 

age;  and  late  in  life  records  rojolclnply,  'that  the  Lord  blessed  him  in  soul 
and  body,  in  basket  and  in  store,'  and  '  ha<l  indi-ed  led  him  into  preen  pastures, 
and  beside  still  waters,  and  had  given  him  all  he  re(|uired.'" — V.  25. 

■  In  1818  he  was  made  a  class-louder,  and  it  ■vvas  in  that  service 
that  his  capacity  for  usefulness  was  specially  develoi)ed.  One  of  his 
first  manifestations  of  zeal  and  faith  took  the  form  of  self-denial: — 

"  A  few  years  after  the  appointment  of  Mr.  lleeves  as  a  leader,  his  classes' 
•were  largely  increased :  then  came  a  time  of  trial- 

"  He  found  that  working '  from  six  o'<li)ck  in  tlie  morning  to  eight  at  night,' 
left  his  '  time  to  visit  the  sick  and  the  ab-cnt  members  too  short.'  lie  felt 
called  upon  to  make  sacrifices:  his  faith  in  God's  promises  was  put  to  the  test, 
for  to  secure  the  time  he  rciiuirod  he  nul^t  give  up  six  to  seven  shillings  per 
■week.  But  by  fiiith  in  God  and  from  love  to  souls  he  did  it:  here  is  his  own 
account  of  the  conflict  and  the  triumph  : — 

"  'I  felt  it  my  duty  to  sacrifice  much  more  of  my  time  for  the  Lord,  to  look 
after  the  little  flock,  so  that  they  bf  not  lost  or  wander  back;  and  now  the 
enemy  and  carnal  reason  (wlio  ever  stund  united  to  prevent  if  possible  any  of 
God's  dear  children,  however  mean,  from  (iolivj;  the  will  of  their  heavenly  Fa- 
ther) began  to  set  mc  a  reasoning  thus:  "  Why.  you  will  soon  begin  to  grow 
old  ;  you  are  now  much  afllictcd  in  Wly,  your  club  is  broken  up,  and  it  is  sin- 
ful not  to  provide  for  your  own  liou^'ImM  before  sickness  and  old  age;  and 
you  know  it  would  be  a  grief  to  your  miiwl  as  long  as  you  live  to  be  a  burden 
to  the  Church  of  Christ;  and  besides,  six  or  seven  shillings  is  a  large  sum  to 
sacrifice;  and  your  Christian  friends  will  think  you  have  been  a  very  lazy 
man."  These,  and  a  great  number  of  su.-h  like  vain  thoughts  flowed  into  my 
mind  for  several  days  ;  but  I  took  thfm  all  into  my  closet,  and,  like  Hezekiah, 
I  spread  them  before  my  heavenly  Father,  and  prayed  him  to  make  his  blessed 
•will  known  to  me,  and  by  the  strfugtli  (f  divine  grace  enable  me  to  do  it. 

'"  And,  glory  be  to  God,  who  is  ever  st.miiing  ready  to  hoar  a  poor  sinner's 
prayer,  he  soon  made  his  will  known  to  mi-  by  the  power  of  his  Holy  Sjiirit 
convincing  poor  sinners  of  sin.  and  manifesting  to  them  his  pardoning  love 
when  I  went  to  visit  the  sick ;  ami  so  lie  increased  the  number  of  our  classes. 
Thus  1  went  on  trusting  in  the  meiry  of  the  Lord  Jesus  for  about  twenty 
years.' 

"  A  poor  mecLanic  sacrificing  .'•Ix  to  sevon  shillings  per  week  that  he  might 
give  the  time  to  the  Lonl,  is  an  ait  of  futh  and  devotion  rarely  performed, 
and  is  worthy  the  consideration  oi^  m<-n  of  sujwrlor  social  position,  who  will 
•■willingly  give  a  subscription  to  a  bi'iievolcnt  object,  in  order  to  do  good  by 
proxy,  btit  who  shun  personal  serNice.  '  Obedit-nce  is  better  than  sacrifice;' 
a  subscription  costs  a  rich  man  little,  and  it  is  not  clear  froni  Scripture  that 
anything  short  o£  personal  devotion -to  t)ie  cause  of  God  will  be  accepted  by 
Him  who  has  said,  '  Occupy  till  I  come.'  "— I'p.  27-29. 

Father  Reeves  vras  a  model  class-leader.  At  the  church  he  would 
watch  for  penitents  and  invite  them  to  attend  class ;  indeed,  he  felt 
it  to  he  his  duty  to  seek  member.-;,  not  to  wait  till  they  sought  him. 
lie  "  deemed  it  almost  essential  to  the  life  and  spiritual  health  of  a 
class  that  penitents  should  be  constantly  brought  in."  A  friend 
.writes : — 

"I  think  it  must  have  been  al)Out  the  year  lS3t  that  my  accjuaintance  witb 
the  deceased  grew  to  an  intimacy.     My  presence  at  wcek-night  preaching, 


448*  Fathei'  Reeves.  Duly, 

and  the  Saturday-evening  praycr-mectin":,  attracted  his  attention.  He  would 
intercept  my  departure  I'rom  the  chapel,  or  vestry ;  the  aisle,  pew,  form,  or 
doorway  were  the  points  of  coiitiict.  The  expediency  of  meeting  in  class  had 
not  presented  Itself  forcibly  to  my  mind,  and  a  repugnance  to  such  a  step  was 
for  a  period  decisive.  His  grand  object,  my  personal  salvation,  appeared  to 
him  more  certain  if  external  communion  were  secured.  With  patient  love, 
unwearied  diligence,  and  great  forbearance,  in  season  and  (1  often  then 
thought)  out  of  season,  did  he  invite,  reason  with,  and  exhort  me  to  that  de- 
cisive point. 

"  It  was  in  his  mind  a  demonstrated  fact,  that  the  turning  point  of  moral 
.and  religious  history  would  be  found  just  at  that  juncture  v>-here  resolve  was 
taken  for  visible  Church  union  or  the  converse.  It  was  this  that  caused  him 
to  esteem  the  class-moeting  of  the  highest  value;  here,  he  would  observe,  'an 
individual  draws  the  line  of  demarcation  between  the  world  and  his  adopted 
choice.  He  makes  a  new  election  of  friends,  pursuits,  and  interests.'  " — Pp. 
59-61. 

This  is  the  true  Metliodist  and  Christian  doctrine — far  different 
from  the  new-fangled  notion  prevalent  in  some  quarters,  that  none 
but  persons  professing  conversion  should  be  admitted  to  class-mem- 
bership. As  a  class- leader,  Mr.  Reeves  excelled  not  only  in  the 
minor  virtues  of  punctuality  and  readiness,  but  also  in  the  funda- 
mental one  of  having  a  just  conception  of  the  responsibilities  and 
duties  of  his  office  as  a  subordinate  pastor  in  the  Church  of  Christ. 
When  a  new  member  came  into  the  class,  the  good  leader  at  once 
sought  his  confidence  and  affection,  and  never  rested  until  the  evi- 
dences of  convcrtioii  and  growth  in  grace  were  manifest.  And,  as 
many  of  his  members  were  gathered  from  the  world,  and  were  almost 
entirely  ignorant  of  tlie  doctrines  of  the  gospel,  he  became  to  them 
an  earnest  and  diligent  catechist,  teaching  them  continually,  out  of 
the  Holy  Scriptures,  the  way  of  salvation. 

"He  was  not  satisfied  until  each  member  could  for  himself  prove  from  Scrip- 
ture everv'  doctrine  li-'  p!ote?se<l,  and  quote  from  Scripture  the  warrant  for 
each  promise  on  the  fulilhneiit  of  which  he  relied. 

"  The  brother  who  li;\s  liad  charge  of  this  class  since  Father  Reeves's  de- 
cease, fully  bears  out  tlie  statement,  that  the  members  generally  are  well- 
grounded  in  Scriptural  pnx)f  of  all  our  doctrines,  and  can  give,  in  the  terms 
of  Scripture,  a  reason  tor  the  hope  that  is  in  them.  No  wonder  :  for  their 
leader,  fearful  of  convt-ntioiial  phrases,  —  fearful  of  the  counnonplaces  of 
Methotlism  being  put  iri'-tead  of  heartfelt  experience, — adopted,  some  years 
ago,  the  plan — sevLTal  times  ivncwed— of  setting  a})art  a  Sunday,  on  which 
every  member  should  searcli  for  and  rea<i  a  text  descriptive  '  of  his  or  her 
owu  state  or  present  experience.'  " — Pp.  Gti,  67. 

In  furtherance  of  the  same  object  lie  would  often  convert  the  ordi- 
nary class-meeting  into  a  Liblc-class,  giving  his  members  a  month 
to  prepare  for  the  suljject.  Nor  was  this  all.  It  often  happened,  as 
Father  Reeves  was  ever  at  work  among  the  poor,  that  he  brought 
into  liis  classes  men  of  middle-age,  and  even  old  persons,  who  knew 
not  how  to  read.     What  was  to  be  done  with  such?    Might  they 


1853.]  Father  Reeves.  449 

not  be  left  to  hear  the  word  of  God  from  others,  instead  of  enduring 
the  toil  of  learning  to  read  it  for  themselves  ?" 

"By  no  means.  'We  teach  them/  says  this  admirable  leader,  'by  their 
children  that  -were  taught  in  the  Sunday  school,  and  -we  set  apart  a  Sunday 
for  them  to  read  a  portion  of  Holy  Scripture  to  us,  to  hear  how  they  improve, 
and  to  stimulate  others  to  learn.' 

^ "  And  thus  many  a  new  convert,  but  an  old  man,  has  evidenced  the  gen- 
ulnenes.s  of  the  reli^nous  change  wrought  in  him,  by  toiling  through  verse 
after  verse,  chapter  after  chapter,  till  hu  has  been  able  to  read 'before  his  class- 
mates the  story  of  the  cross. 

"The  subjoined,  rather  lengthened  but  important  extract,  will  show  how  he 
managed  to  turn  such  an  occasion  into  a  means  of  instruction : — 

"  '  Hymn  87,  page  SS,  to  commence  the  meeting. 

" '  We  set  apart  this  day  (^instead  of  uiet;tliig  tbe  class  in  the  ordinary  man- 
ner) to  read  the  sacred  Scriptures ;  and  especially  that  those  may  read  who 
did  not  know  a  letter  when  they  began  lo  meet  in  class ;  but  now,  glory  be  to 
God,  they  can  read  any  chapter  in  tin;  Xew  Testament  well.  VVe  do  this 
especially  for  the  encouragement  of  those  who  are  now  meeting  with  us  who 
cannot  read,  that  they  may  see  the  benefit  and  joy  there  is  in  reading  the  word 
of  God  for  ourselves,  and  may  be  provoked  to  learn. 

"  'I,  William  Reeves,  am  the  oldest  member  of  the  class,  and  I  could  not 
read  a  chapter  in  the  word  of  God  when  I  was  converted;  but  now,  blessed 
forever  be  the  Lord,  I  can  say,  '•  Thy  word  Is  a  lamp  unto  my  feet,  and  a  light 
unto  my  path." 

"  '  I  shall  bcf^n  by  reminding  myself  and  you,  for  our  unspeakable  comfort 
here  and  happiness  hereafter,  of  the  authenticity  of  the  Avord  of  the  ever 
blessed  God,  and  the  love  of  Jesus,  and  this  fj-om  its  own  truth.* 

"  Here  brother  Reeves  refers  extenslvel}-  to  the  fulfihnent  of  the  prophecies 
of  Scripture  relating  to  our  Saviour— prophecies  delivered  several  hundreds 
of  years  before  Jesus  was  Iwrn.     Tliea  he  a-Ms: — 

'"I  shall  now  read  the  o3d  chapter  of  Jsaiah.' 

"  Then  this  verse  was  sung : — 

"'Sec,  from  His  head,  his  Lands,  his  feet, 

Sorrow  and  love  tiow  mingled  down  ; 
Did  e'er  such  love  and  sorrow  meet, 

Or  thorns  compose  so  rich  a  crown?' 

"  Then  brother  P was  directed  lo  read  the  3d  chapter  of  the  Second 

Epistle  of  St  Peter,  after  which  the  chiss  ijang  this  verse, — 

"  '  Should  all  tbe  forms  that  men  devise,  * 

Assault  my  faith  with  treacherous  art, 

I'd  call  them  vanity  and  lies, 

And  bind  the  gospel  to  my  heart.' 

" '  Now,'  says  our  friend,  '  as  God,  In  so  much  love  to  us,  has  given  us  his 
dear  and  well-beloved  Son,  that  we  may  be  saved,  our  duty  is  to  repent  and 
believe  the  gospel.  This  is  needful  for  all.  So  Ave  find  it  in  the  word  of  God ; 
what  is  necessarj'  for  one  is  necessary  tor  the  whole  world.  Daniel  is.;  Jonah 
iii;  Psalm  li;  Acts  ii,  37,  38  ;  xvi,  30,  31.' 

"Then  sister  K ■  was  appointed  to  read  the  51st  Psalm,  but  first  this 

verse  was  sung : — 


•When  quiet  in  my  house  I  sit, 
Thy  book  be  my  companion  still ; 


450  Father  Reeves.  [July, 

■j_,:-  ,  .      My  joy  Thy  sayings  to  repeat, 

Talk  o'er  the  records  of  Thy  will, 
And  search  the  oracles  divine, 
Till  every  heartfelt  word,  be  mine.' 

"  The  103d  Psalm  -was  then  n-ail. 

"  '  And  now,'  continues  the  leader,  '  we  will  remind  ourselves  ag'ain,  that  it 
is  by  faith  alone  in  tlic  precious  blood  of  atonement  tliat  the  poor,  broken- 
hearted, repentant,  sorrowincr  sinner  can  be  justified.  Eomans  v,  1 ;  Romans 
iii,  21  to  the  end:  Ga'.atians'iii ;  Titus  iii,  5,  6  ;  Matthew  ix,  20-22  ;  Mark  v, 
28-36.     Let  these  sullice.' 

•'  Then  a  verso  was  sung : — 

"  'The  thinj;  surpasses  all  my  thought, 

But  faithful  is  my  Lord ; 
Through  unbLliof  1  stagger  not, 

For  God  hath  spoke  the  word ;' 

and  brother  H was  called  upon  to  read  the  second  chapter  of  the  Epistle 

to  the  Ephesians. 

"  After  this  the  leader  a;:aln  exhorted  : — '  We  would  not  forget  to  remind  ' 
ourselves  of  our  unspeakable  privilege ;  for  it  is  the  will  of  God,  our  heavenly 
Father,  that  we  should  be  sanctified  wholly,  "  spirit,  soul,  and  body,"  and  so 
be  "  preserved  blanielcss  unto  the  coming  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ."   1  Thess. 
V,  23,  24. 

" '  But  all  the  work  of  genuine  religion,  from  first  to  last,  is  carried  on  in 
the  soul  by  the  Holy  Spirit ;  this,  so  to  speak,  is  bis  department  in  the  economy 
of  our  redemption.  The  Father  is  represented  as  originating  the  scheme,  the 
Son  executing  it,  and  the  Spirit  ns  applying  it.  O  then,  my  dear  and  beloved 
friends,  you  uuist  see  how  very  necessary  it  is,  in  all  divine  things,  to  have 
right  knowledge  oi  God's  holy  word.  How  can  you  get  on  in  the  way  to 
heaven  without  studying  the  Bible  ?  The  reason  why  so  many  turn  back, 
and  others  get  on  so  slowly  is,  because  they  do  not  study  to  make  themselves 
acquainted  with  divine  tnitli.  O  hear  the  ever-blessed  Savioui-'s  own  words: 
"  Sanctifv  them  through  Thy  truth  :  Thy  word  is  truth."  John  xvii,  17  ;  Ezek. 
xxxvi,  25-29 ;  Eph.  i,  13,  11;  iii,  lo  to  the  end;  Eph.  v,  26,  27  ;  1  John  iv,  17, 
18;  1  Peter  i,  21-2S.' 

"  The  members  were  then  called  upon  to  sing: — 

" '  Satan,  with  all  his  arts,  no  more 

Me  from  the  gospel  hope  shall  move ; 
I  shall  receive  the  gracious  power, 

And  find  the  pearl  of  perfect  love.' 

"  One*  more  exliortatlon  did  the  leader  give — '  Not  to  forget  our  glurlous 
rest  with  Jesus  in  liis  everlasting  kingdom;'  and  a  number  of  references  to 
the  sacred  volume  are  made,  to  excite  the  faith  of  his  class.     Finally,  brother 

K wiis  called  upon  to  read  the  14th  chapter  of  St.  John,  and  brother 

W to  read  the  7  th  chapter  of  the  Book  of  the  Eevclation.     Another 

verse  was  sung:— 

"  '  Out  of  great  distress  they  came  : 
Wash'd  their  robes  by  faith  below, 
'  In  the  blood  of  yonder  Lamb, — 

Blood  that  washes  white  as  snow.' 

"  One  more  hymn,  the  72.Sth,  page  6.5G,  was  sung;  the  whole  service  was 
sanctified  by  the  word  of  God  and  prayer^  and  this  unique  class-meeting 
separated." — Pp.  70-7  7. 


1853.]  Father  Reeves.  451 

No  part  of  tliis  long  extract  could  be  spared.  It  is  a  striking 
illustration  of  the  excellence  of  the  system  of  Methodism.  Here 
is  a  man  Viho  could  not  read  a  chapter  in  the  word  of  God  when 
he  was  converted — whose  daily  life  was  that  of  a  hard-working  arti- 
san— now  instructing  numbers  of  his  fellows  in  the  faith  and  doc- 
trines of  the  gospel,  and  training  them  even  to  read  the  word  of 
God,  and  to  read  it  intelligently.  Had  Isaac  Taylor  attended 
Father  Reeves's  class  for  a  twelve-month,  he  could  have  written  a 
far  more  sensible  and  creditable  chapter  on  "Methodist  Class- 
Meetings." 

One  would  thinb-  that  with  four  classes  and  one  hundred  and  sixty 
members  good  Pather  Reeves  must  have  had  work  enough  upon  his 
bands,  considering  that  his  truly  jiastoral  labours  were  superadded 
to  his  daily  toil  at  the  work-bench.  But  this  was  not  his  only  field. 
The  "  monthly  prayer-meetings"  were  indebted  to  him  for  the  same 
prompt  and  punctual  attendance  as  the  class-meetings  for  many 
years.  It  was  his  habit  to  make  careful  preparation  for  these  meet- 
ings :  he  generally  read,  at  each  of  them,  a  brief,  pointed,  and  prac- 
tical address  of  ten  or  fifteen  minutes'  length,  full  of  Scriptm-al 
■wisdom.  iSor  were  the  financial  interests  of  the  Church  permitted 
to  suffer  in  his  hands : — 

"He  -w-as  invariahbj  present  at  tlic  -sveekly  niecting  of  the  stewards  and 
leaders ;  and  as  he  ahcays  collected  the  money  from  his  members  u-ieJdy,  he 
as  regularly  paid  the  amount  to  the  stewards.  The  M-ritor  cannot  imagine  the 
attraction  -n-hich  -n-ould  have  prt;veiitod  our  friend  from  the  dischrj'iie  oi  this 
duly;  whoever  else  was  absent.  Father  llecves  was  in  the  Lambeth  chapel 
vestry  on  Thursday  evening ;  there  he  sat,  always  on  one  spot,  on  the  left  of 
the  minister,  his  class-books  ready,  tlio  addition  of  the  last  column  checked  by 
some  younger  brother,  and  the  money  in  the  hand  waiting  for  the  steward  to 
enter  it. 

"  And  his  books  are  models.  Xo  blanks,  or  extremely  few,  against  the  mem- 
bers' names,  but  either  the  money  or  a  sufhcicnt  reason  for  absence. 

"  -He  was  Tcry  skilful,'  says. the  female  friend  wiio  has  previously  so  well 
sketched  his  proceedings,  '  in  keeping  the  weekly  payments  straight.  "  Do  n't 
let  Satan  tempt  you  to  remain  away  because  you  have  got  behind,  and  cannot 
pay  up  the  score;  come  and  begin  afresh."  But  lest  this  should  leave  room 
for  laxity  and  indifference,  in  what  he  considered  a  very  important  duty,  he 
would  describe,  in  most  glowing  terms,  the  immense  pleasure  some  of  the  '•  dear 
people"  felt  in  making  sacrifice  and  using  self-denial,  as  he  would  say,  "  for  the 
gospel ;"  illustrating  ihis  remarks  by  ap[iropriatc  anecdotes,  and  alwa}-3  giving 
us  credit  for  such  excellences  as  he  desired  we  should  possess.  He  would 
never  allow  the  false  idea  that  religion  was  expensive.  "  Let  ihem  compare 
the  trifle  given  for  the  support  of  tfie  gospel  with  those  expenses  into  which 
sin  had  led  tb.em,  and  then  judge."  '  • 

"  In  one  of  the  addresses  rclt-rred  to.  Father  Reeves,  after  enjoining  obe- 
dience to  the  rules,  '  that  we  may  not  bring  any  disgrace  on  the  Church  of 
Christ,'  and  urging  punctualitv-  '  in  private  devotion,'  adds :  '  The  Lord  haih 
heard  and  answered  our  prayer,  and  hath  sent  us  faithful  and  able  miui=tersto 
preach  to  us  the  blessed  gospel,  and  they  must  be  supj>orted.     2sot  by  thou- 


452  Father  Reeves.  [July, 

sands  a  year,  for  then  ouly  the  p;roat  and  the  rich  could  have  the  honour  and 
privilege  of  paying ;  but  our  ministers  have  a  smaller  sum,  and,  blessed  be 
the  ]^ord,  ho  hath  given  us  that  are  poor  this  great  luxury — to  help  to  pay  the 
Lord's  servants  by  a  penny  a  voek.  Let  us  say,  "with  David,  I  -will  not  offer 
"  unto  the  Loi-d  mv  God  of  tiiat  -which  doth  cost  me  nothing." '  2  Samuel 
sxiv,  24.— Pp.  88-90. 

Another  important  part  of  the  duty  of  a  class-leader — the  visita- 
tion of  sick  and  absent  laeinbcrs  at  their  own  homes — was  diligently 
performed  by  this  excellent  man,  even  when  he  was  venerable  with 
years : — 

"  Many  modern  loaders  (Link  they  do  their  duty  by  meeting  (Avith  some- 
thing approaching  to  ri'^^uhirity)  tliose  members  who  may  come  to  them  on  the 
class-night;  they,  perhaps,  send  a  message  by  a  member  to  '  the  sick,  the  lame, 
and  the  lazy;'  or  they  content  themselves  by  scolding  the  delinquents  In  their 
absence,  thus  troubling  the  members  ])resent  with  the  condemnation  of  faults 
which  they  at  lea^t  have  avoided.  Not  so  this  admirable  leader.  To  estimate 
aright  the  following  stall  mint,  let  it  be  borne  In  mind,  that  until  Father  Reeves 
was  seventj'  years  of  age,  he  hiid  to  work  daily  for  his  living ;  that  on  Sundays, 
for  many  years,  he  was,  except  during  verj-  brief  InterA-als,  In  the  chapel  from 
seven  in  the  morning  until  eight  o'clock  at  night,  and  after  that  at  a  neigh- 
bouring prayer-meeting;  tlial  every  evening  In  the  week,  but  one,  was  spent 
in  the  chapel,  school-nic.m,  or  vestry,  in  some  religious  service;  and  yet  he 
undertook  and  accoinplislied  an  amount  of  house-to-house  visitation  of  his 
members,  such  as  made  his  person  well  known  through  the  neighbourhood,  to 
saint  and  sinner,  and  kejjt  up  the  numbers  and  spirit  of  his  classes  to  an 
unparalleled  degree. 

"His  visits,  during  the  early  years  of  his  leadership,  were  few,  or  were  not 
fully  recorded;  but,  t;iking  his  cla,>s-books  from  1825  to  1852,  nearly  thirteen 
thousand  visits  may  be  traced — an  average  of  four  hundred  and  fifty  a  year; 
and,  during  the  last  five  years,  they  averaged  six  hundred  and  fifty  a  year. 
These  are  exclusively  to  his  classes — to  those  detained  by  sickness,  business,  or 
temptation,  and  entirely  ajjart  from  his  visits  on  account  of  the  Strangers' 
Friend  Society,  or  his  vi-its  to  members  who  had  imavoidably  left  his  classes. 
Were  these  added,  it  is  i>robabIe  that  his  domiciliary  visitations  would  amount 
to  one  thousand  a  year  tor  the  last  three  years.  '  These  visits,'  says  an  old 
member,  'were  seasons  ot'  considerable  interest;  solicitude  for  your  temporal 
wcUare  was  not  omitted,  Imt  his  absorbing  anxieties  were  directed  to  spiritual 
concerns;  no  member  of  tlie  household  was  forgotten.  My  v,ife  has  remarked, 
"  YoLir  old  leader  is  always  alxiut  his  blaster's  business."  Few  men  within  the 
sphere  of  my  observation  won  more  respect  than  did  he  from  those  who  had 
been  educated  in  accordance  with  other  Church  systems.'  A  poor  woman, 
who  with  her  husl)anil  jaet  in  Father  Reeves's  Sunday  cLass,  writes :  '  If  we 
have  been  absent  from  chv.'^s,  through  illness,  he  has  been  sure  to  call  the  next 
morning  before  nine  o'clock.  Many  a  time  he  has  helped  us  out  of  his  own 
pocket,  for  fear  we  should  not  have  bread.' " — Pp.  93-95. 

The  chapter  which  treats  of  his  own  personal  religion  is  replete 
wfih  instruction,  but  we  must  forbear  further  quotation.  We  trust 
that  this  book  will  find  its  readers  by  thousands  upon  thousands, 
and  that,  like  Carvosso,  Father  Reeves  may  "  lead  "  even  more  souls 
to  heaven  after  death  than  durin;:  his  life. 


1853.1  Miscellanies.  453 


Art.  IX.— mSCELLAXTES. 

t 

Meaning  of  hmXaii^dverai  in  Ilcbretvs  ii,   16. 
Oil   yap   i^iTov  ayyiXuv  ETzUMfipuverai,  u'/.Xa,   CKipf^aroc  ^AjSpaa/i  hri/.a/^Sdverci. 

TO   TUK  EDITOR. 

The  view  taken  by  Dr.  Rounds  in  tho  April  Number  of  the  Review,  as  to  the 
signification  of  e~i.?.c/i,3uv£rai  in  Hebrews  ii,  16,  is  certainly  one  that  at  first 
strongly  recommends  itself  to  the  student :  but  a  further  examination  has  led 
at  least  one  of  his  readers  to  think  that  the  signification  "  took  07i  him,"  after  all, 
derives  its  chief  plausibility  from  our  familiarity  with  it  in  the  common  English 
translation  of  that  passage.  AVithout  designing  to  enter  into  any  controversy  on 
the  subject,  I  will  give  some  of  the  reasons  that  have  brought  me  to  a  diferent 
conclusion  from  Dr.  Rounds :  if  they  have  any  weight,  he  will  doubtless  be  as 
free  to  admit  their  force  as  myself;  and  if  they  shall  appear  inconclusive,  let 
them  pass  for  nothing. 

1.  The  proper  sense  of  the  word.  Tlii«,  it  is  acknowledged,  is  rather  indetermin- 
ate; but  it  is  claimed  that  the  middle  form  of  h:TL7.afiiuvr,uai  favours  the  idea  of 
assumption  to  one's  self  "VVe  do  not  find,  however,  tlmt  this  reflexive  furce  ever 
belongs  to  the  word  in  the  New  Tcsianu-ut,  although  it  always  occurs  there  in 
the  middle  voice;  and  the  classical  usn^e  of  the  verb  makes  no  such  distinction 
between  the  senses  of  the  active  and  the  middle  voices,  nor  indeed  ever  assigns 
to  either  of  them  the  idea  of  appropriating,  except  in  a  violent  manner.  In  proof 
of  this  I  need  only  refer  to  the  citations  in  the  lexicons  and  philological  commen- 
taries in  general.  The  strict  middle  seu.^e  would  be,  to  seize  xq>on  one's  self:  and  the 
indirect  middle  sense  would  be,  to  take  hold  of  in  order  to  support  one's  self,  or 
bring  near  to  one's  self  The  meaning,  to  take  hold  of  in  order  to  render  assist- 
ance, is  indeed  a  very  indirect  application  of  the  middle  voice  ;  but  everj-  student 
knows  that  such  applications  of  that  voice  are  very  usual  in  the  New  Testament, 
and  in  this  case  it  is  the  one  clearly  indicated  in  Luke  xiv,  4,  and  sustained  by 
classical  examples.  In  Fhilippians  ii,  7,  cl.iiuicd  as  a  parallel  passage,  the  verb 
is  in  the  active  voice  and  simjde  form,  /-a.K<v,  and  is  especially  distinguished 
from  this  case  by  the  absence  of  the  peculiar  construction  presently  to  be  noted. 

2.  The  tense  of  the  verb.  It  is  impossible  to  make  tnilapiidverat  here  a  historic 
present  by  comparing  it  with  i-ci<!x<irTai,  five  verses  preceding,  when  the 
historic  aorist  intervenes  and  follows,  in  immediate  reference  to  the  same  event: 
for  example,  pcricx^t  verse  14,  upei'/.e,  vtr-e  17.  The  present  tense  here  plainly 
describes  an  event  continuous  and  extcndins  to  the  period  of  writing;  and  how 
our  translators  ever  came  to  render  it  by  "  took,"  is  a  my.«itery. 

3.  The  coiwitruction  of  the  object.  If  we  take  l7ri?.ai/3dveTat  in  the  sense  of 
assuming,  we  must  supply  an  ellipsis  before  uyyD.ijv  and  orrfpua-o^,  by  under- 
standing Tiiv  uopdi'iv,  pvatv,  or  some  such  accusative,  as  our  translators  have  done : 
for,  to  make  the  genitives  depend  upon  the  verb  in  this  direct  transitive  sense. 
would  be -wholly  ungrammatical,  and  at  variance  with  its  usus  in  the  Scriptures 
as  well  as  classics :  such  an  ellipsis,  to  ."-ay  the  least,  would  be  very  harsh  and 
unauthorized  by  any  similar  passage, — in  fact  it  would  be  an  omission  of  the 
main  word  upon  which  the  whole  import  of  the  passage  would  rest,  and  it  miirht 


454  Miscellanies.  [July, 

be  filled  up  very  dififerently  by  different  readers.  On  the  other  hand,  these  geni- 
tives would  very  properly  depend  upon  the  verb,  if  used  figuratively  in  the  par- 
titive sense ;  as  in  Matt,  xiv,  31,  i~ildlicro  avrov,  q.  d.  helped  him  hy  taking 
hold  (of  a  part)  of  him,  and  raising  him  to  the  same  posture  with  himself. 
The  same  construction  and  meaning  obtain  with  di'-£?-a,3£ro  in  Luke  i,  oi. 

As  to  the  Doctor's  endeavour  to  make  out  that  by  uyys/.oi  must  here  be  meant 
only  good  angels,  and  that  as  these  never  stood  in  need  of  salvation,  the  argu- 
ment of  the  apostle  would  be  nugatory,  I  cannot  sec  that  this  would  follow  :  it 
surely  would  be  entirely  pertinent  to  say  that  Christ  did  not  undertake  their 
salvation,  precisely  for  the  reason  that  they  did  not  require  such  an  enterprise. 
But  it  is  not  correct  to  infer  that  ayyO.oL  here  refers  to  good  angels  exclusively, 
simply  because  that  term  is  never  used  in  this  absolute  form  to  designate  fallen 
spirits :  it  is  of  angels  as  un  order  of  beings,  irrespective  of  moral  character,  that 
the  apostle  has  all  along  been  .^peaking,  in  contradistinction  from  Christ  both  as 
man  and  as  God  ;  and  on  tliis  account  the  article  is  omitted  in  every  case, — had 
the  article  been  used,  tlic  sense  would  have  been  restricted  either  to  good  or  bad 
angels. 

A  similar  remark  with  regard  to  the  use  of  cTifp/ia  obviates  the  objection 
against  its  extension  to  cover  the  human  race  :  being  without  the  article,  it  of 
course  only  points  out  the  class  of  beings  in  general  to  which  the  Jews  belonged, 
in  distinction  from  angcl=,  to  which  it  is  expressly  opposed  hy  6. a'/m.  This  mode 
of  designating  humanity  is  readily  accounted  for  by  the  prominence  given  to 
the  chosen  nation  in  the  eyes  of  a  native  Jew  writing  to  Hebrews  themselves. 
To  infer  from  his  mentioning  them  only,  that  the  apostle  could  mean  no  ethers, 
would  be  to  exclude  Gentiles  from  more  than  half  the  promises  of  the  Old  Testa- 
ment, which  are  couched  iu  similar  phrase.  But  suppose  we  set  out  to  take 
CTTepua  ^ASpau/i  in  its  strictest  sense,  and  im?.au,3dv£Tai  in  the  sense  of  assumed, 
what  follows?  Why.  we  are  compelled  to  insert  such  an  adjunctive  term  before 
<T;7fpjua7of  as  makes  it  equivalent  to  "  the  natm-e  of  the  seed  of  Abraham;"  in 
other  words,  we  after  all  extend  it  to  denote  human  nature  in  gcnci-al.  Thus,  in 
fact,  Dr.  Kounds  himself  at  last  falls  into  the  same  so  called  inconsistency  for 
which  ho  so  roundly  rates  other  commentators.  The  plain  state  of  the  case  is, 
that  HyyO.oL  and  o-lpfia  'A3pauu  are  here  so  contrasted,  that  no  interpreter  can 
avoid  making  them  in  the  end  refer  to  two  distinctive  orders  of  beings.  The 
only  question  is,  whether  these  terms,  thus  indefinitely  used,  mean  the  abstract 
iiaturcs  of  these  beings,  or  the  concrete  bein,s;s  themselves,  collectively  considered; 
and  even  this  difference  is  pnictically  unimportant;  but  whether  important  or 
not,  it  can  only  be  settled,  as  a  matter  of  interpretation,  by  the  meaning  of 
iT:i7.afj,3di-£Tai  itself. 

4.  Finally,  the  scope  and  aigument  of  the  passage  and  context  require 
izi?MUi3dverai  to  be  taken  in -the  sense  of  rcZtfrm^,  and  are  impaired  by  the  other 
sense.  Dr.  Kounds  has  correctly  stated  the  general  argument  of  this  and  the 
preceding  chapter,  but  fails  entirely  to  see  the  mode  in  which  this  verse  articu- 
lates into  that  argument.  Ihiving  vindicated  Christ's  divinity  in  chapter  i.  the 
apostle  in  the  preceding  verses  of  this  chapter  states  Christ's  humanity,  and 
quotes  various  jiassages  of  the  Old  Testament  to  prove  that  the  ^lessiah  was 
to  be  of  the  same  nature  as  the  saints  of  God,  (verses  10-13.)  Verses  1-1 
and  1.5  then  state  the  jimpriety  of  tliis  identity  of  nature,  and  refer  to  the 
glorious  result  that  wouhl  How  from  it.  Then  follows  the  verse  in  question, 
assigning  an  additional  and  the  principal  ri:.4S0n  for  this  identity,  which  is 
therefore   introduced  by  }dp.     Now  nothing  could  be  more  appropriate  as   a 


1853.]  Miscellanies.  455 

reason  •why  Chi-ist  stouW  assume  human  nature,  rather  than  an  angelic 
nature,  (as  might  otherwise  have  been  expected,)  than  the  fact  that  he  was  to 
save  that  very  human  nature,  and  not  that  of  angels.  But  if  we  make  this 
verse  affirm  the  assumption  of  humanity,  it  would  be  so  far  from  constituting  a 
reason  for  the  preceding  verse,  that  it  would  in  fact  be  a  mere  repetition  of  the 
same  idea.  In  like  manner,  verse  17  fullows  with  a  conclusion  from  this  reason, 
introduced  by  u6ev  ;  which  of  course  is  tantamount  with  tlie  statement  of  the 
fact  before  given,  for  which  that  reason  had  just  been  assigned.  Whereas  if 
verse  16  contains  the  fact  of  the  incarnation,  how  could  the  same  fact,  in 
verse  17,  follow  from  itself?  In  short,  our  view  makes  E-i/MjiSdv^rai  refer  to 
the  reason  of  the  parallel  statements //f-tpvf  (verse  14)  and  uaoicjOr/vai  on  either 
side,  whereas  the  other  view  confounds  all  three  in  one  reiterated  assertion. 
This  assignment  of  such  a  reason  is  a  very  difiorcnt  thing  from  "  interrupting 
the  tenor  of  remark  to  lug  in  a  thought  whicli  is  not  suggested  either  before  or 
afterwards  in  any  part  of  the  epistle."  The  contrast  between  men  and  angels 
that  prevails  throughout  these  chapters  Appears  to  me  to  be  very  strongly 
"suggestive"  of  tlie  "  thought"  that  Christ  did  not  die  to  save  angels.  This 
thought  was  the  best  possible  reason  why  he  should  not  have  become  an  angel; 
it  would  have  cut  off  all  sympatliy  with  the  objects  of  his  mission,  as  verse  17 
goes  on  to  explain.  A  reason  so  palpable  aiid  conclusive  did  not  need  to  be 
repeated  in  express  terms  ;  but  it  is  implied  in  the  whole  coiu-so  of  reasoning 
here  pursued. 

The  only  way  to  avoid  coming  to  this  vifw  as  to  the  course  of  thought,  is  by 
regarding  -/up  here  as  introducing  an  illustrutiie  clause,  rather  than  a  reason, 
that  is,  as  more  fully  explaining  the  aiua  k<u  cupi  of  verse  14,  by  a  contrast 
with  angels;  and  the  force  of  oOcv  (vcr^e  17)  must  then  be  confined  to  the 
qualifying  clause  Kara,  ^ravra.  But  thi.^,  after  all,  makes  this  whole  verse  in 
question  weak  and  uncalled  far ;  since  no  one  could  imagine  a  human  and  an 
angelic  nature  in  any  manner  compatible.  Such  a  meaning  of  -/up  is  for- 
bidden also,  if  I  mistake  not,  by  the  particle  6i/-ov,  here  added  to  it.  The 
import  of  this  latter  word,  it  is  true,  is  u.-ually  rather  indeterminate,  and 
its  application  somewhat  varied  ;  but  in  this  case,  taken  in  connexion  with 
ov  and  }up,  it  appears  to  have  a  peculiar  and  appropriate  intensive  force. 
A  strict  analysis  would  here  j'robably  resolve  it  into  two  elements,  the 
coticessive  Sr)  going  to  strengthen  the  argument  of  )up,  and  the  indefinite 
■TTov  imparting  additional  cxclusivcrcts  to  the  negation  in  oi' ;  so  that  the 
whole  may  justly  be  rendered  ilms  :  "  [.\ud  this  assumption  of  humanity  was 
the  more  appropriate,]  inasmuch  as  he  certainly  is  not  a  Saviour  of  angels  at 
alL"  This  view  of  dr/-ov  properly  brings  out  the  bearing  of  this  clause,  as  a 
ground  assigned  for  the  preceding  ver>e,  ami  at  the  same  time  exhibits  its  inci- 
dental introduction,' as  a  point  n..t  calling  fur  pra<if. 

I  have  examined  this  passage  thus  in  dttail.  because  the  question  at  issue  is  a 
properly  philological  one,  and  thircfure  n-Mjuiring  for  its  solution  a  careful 
inspection  of  the  words  in  which  it  is  cxprx,ssed. 

jAsrES  Steoxg. 

Flvshixq,  May  S,  1853. 


456  Miscellanies.  [July, 


II. 

Was  not  John  the  Baptist  {and  not  Elijah)  with  our  Lord  on  the  Mount 
of  Tramjiguration  ? 

CojntEXTATORS,  vre  believe  -without  exception,  understand  by  EUas,  in  Matt, 
XTJi,  3,  the  Prophet  Elijah.  May  there  not  be  ground  to  doubt  this  interpreta- 
tion, and  to  answer  the  question  proposed  at  the  head  of  this  paper  in  the 
affirmative? 

God,  by  the  prophet,  (>]alachi  iii,l,)  declared  that  he  -would  send  his  messenger, 
who  should  prepai'e  the  way  before  him.  This  prophecy  was  pronounced  five 
hundred  years  after  the  translation  of  the  literal  Elijah,  and  four  hundred 
years  before  the  birth  of  John  the  Baptist.  The  Jews  yet  expect  its  fulfilment. 
But  John  the  }3aptist  is  acknowledged  by  the  Christian  Church  to  be  the  subject 
of  this  prophecy.  As  such  he  was  the  forerunner  of  Christ,  "coming  in  the 
spirit  and  power  of  Illias ;"  and,  on  some  occasions,  he  is  called  by  that  name, 
fis,  in  fact,  he  was  the  spiritual  Elijah  of  the  Xew  Testament.  Christ  calls  him 
"  that  Elias  which  was  for  to  come." 

On  the  mount  of  transfijrunUion  was  a  personage  called  Elias,  who,  together 
with  Moses,  was  conversing  with  Christ.  As  they  came  down  from  the  mountain, 
our  Saviour  charged  the  disciples  to  tell  the  vision  to  no  man  until  he  had  risen 
from  the  dead.  They  inquired,  as  they  could  not  comprehend  the  injunc- 
tion, if  Christ  should  pass  away  and  the  literal  Elijah  not  appear: — ""Why  then 
say  the  scribes,  that  Elias  must  first  come  ?"  Jesus  replied,  that  "  Elias  is 
come  already,  and  they  knew  him  not,  but  have  done  unto  him  whatsoever  they 
listed ;"  and  as  ho  had  suffered,  so  "  likewise  shall  also  the  Son  of  man  suffer 
of  them." 

Here  is  a  positive  affirmation  that  Elias  had  already  come,  and  a  brief  descrip- 
tion of  the  treatment  he  had  received  from  the  Jews,  and  an  announcement  that 
as  he  had  been  put  to  death,  so  also  should  the  Son  of  man  suffer  like  treatment 
at  their  hands.  The  disciples  then  understood  that  Christ  spoke  to  them  of  John 
the  Baptist. 

In  this  conversation  our  Saviour  mentioned  an  Elias  which  should  "come  and 
restore  all  things;"  from  which  it  is  evident  that  reference  is  had  to  two  per- 
sonages :  of  one  Christ  speaks  in  the  past  tense — "  is  come  already  ;"  of  the  other 
he  says,  "Elias  shall  first  come,"  evidently  referring  to  the  future.  John  at 
this  time  was  dea<l,  ami  consequently  he  could  not  literally  make  his  appearance 
among  them.  Xow  when  the  deputation  from  the  Sanhedrim  inquired  of  John 
if  he  was  Elias?  he  answered,  "I  am  not,"  but  referred  them  to  the  prophecy 
of  Isaiah  xl,  3,  for  a  description  of  his  character  and  to  prove  the  authenticity 
of  his  claim  to  be  the  forerunner  of  the  Messiah.  According  to  the  received 
explanations,  these  are  evident  contradictions  ;  and  the  only  mode  in  which  they 
can  be  reconciled  is  to  assume  that  tlie  Scriptures  refer  to  two  distinct  persons — 
the  Elias  of  the  Old  Testament  and  the  Elias  of  the  Xew  Testament.  John  the 
Baptist  was  not  the  Elijah  of  Malachi  iv,  5 ;  he  was  only  to  possess  the  "spirit 
and  power  of  Elijah :"  not  the  power  of  working  miracles,  which  the  former  Elijah 
possessed ;  but  the  sternness  and  power  of  reproof,  the  sup>eriority  to  softness, 
ease,  or  worldly  ambition,  and  the  same  influence  over  his  fellow  countrymen. 


1853.3  Miscellanies.  .  457 

tliat  the  literal  Elijah  possessed.  In  addition  to  John's  denial  that  he  was  the 
Elijah  of  Mai.  iv^,  o,  Christ  likewise  denies  it,  and  asserts  that  this  Elijah  was 
yet  to  come.  May  not  our  Saviour  allude  to  a  reappearance  of  the  literal  Elijah 
"  before  the  coming  of  the  great  and  dreadful  day  of  tlie  Lord  ?"  Again :  as 
John  possessed  the  spirit  and  power  of  J^lia-",  why  should  he  not  bear  the  name 
of  Elias?  That  he  was  the  Elias  of  the  New  Testament,  none,  we  presume,  would 
doubt ;  and  as  such  he  bore  the  name.  Both  the  Master  and  his  prophet  admit 
that  John  is  the'  subject  of  prophecy  in  Isaiah  xl,  3,  and  Mai.  iii,  1.  Vie  may 
add  to  the  contradiction  involved  in  the  a<lmission  that  the  literal  Elijah  of  the 
Old  Testament  was  with  Christ  on  the  mountain,  the  consequent  that  the  dis- 
ciples were  in  a  great  error  in  saying  tliat  Christ  spoke  to  them  of  John  the 
Baptist;  and  the  great  Teacher  did  not  sock  to  remove  that  error  for  the  simple 
reason  that  he  was  involved  in  the  same  dilliculty :  for  his  remarks  will  not  apply 
to  Elijah,  but  will  apply,  most  truthfully,  to  John  the  Baptist. 

To  those  already  presented  may  -be  added  other  arguments  in  proof  of  the 
position  that  John  the  Baptist  was  with  Christ  on  the  occasion  referred  to. 
It  is  asserted  that  Elijah,  as  "the  chief  of  the  prophets,  came  to  do  homage 
to  Christ,  and  to  render  up  all  autliority  into  his  hands."  May  not  this 
be  questioncl  ?  Was  Elijah  the  chief  uf  the  prophets?  We  think  not. 
If  we  refer  to  his  predictions,  we  lind  hoinc  having  reference  to  local,  and 
compai-atively  trivial,  events.  Did  he  ever  utter  a  prophecy  pointing  to  Christ, 
or  to  the  great  subject  of  redemption  ?  We  cannot  place  him  as  a  prophet  in  the 
same  rank  with  Moses  or  Isaiah,  or  with  any  of  the  greater,  and  we  may  add, 
with  some  of  the  minor  prophets.  If  the  greater  must  represent  the  less,  then 
Elijah  could  not  represent  the  prophets  ;  if  he  did,  the  lesser  would  enjoy  dignity 
superior  to  the  greater — an  honour  to  winch,  we  may  venture  to  say,  he  could 
lay  no  claim.  If  we  say,  with  Dr.  Clarke,  that  Elijah  made  his  appearance  to 
prove  that  God  will  change  the  living  at  the  last  day,  we  offer  an  opinion  that 
is  worth  nothing  in  presence  of  .the  express  revelation  of  the  foot,  in  plain  and 
unequivocal  language,  that  the  living  shall  be  changed  in  the  twinkling  of  an 
eye.  If  we  refer  to  Elijah  as  a  teacher,  in  that  respect .iSarauel  equalled  him: 
and  Elisha  surpassed  him  in  the  number  and  c-xtent  of  the  miracles  that  he 
wrought.  John  the  Baptist,  as  a  prophet  acting  as  the  herald  of  Christ,  or  as 
a  teacher  preparing  the  way  of  the  Lord,  took  precedence  of  all  before  him. 
John  was  more  than  a  prophet :  for  among  all  that  were  born  of  women  previous 
to  his  time,  Jesus  declared  there  had  not  nsen  a  greater  thaTi  John  the  Baptist. 
Here  we  might  propose  a  question,  viz. :  if  the  propliets,  as  a  part  of  the  Mosaic 
dispensation,  must  be  represented,  why  should  not  the  priesthood? 

The  Jewish  dispensation  in  the  pcr-on  of  Moses  here  recognised  Chi-ist  as  the 
great  antitype  of  the  types  existing  under  the  Mosaic  law;  but  there  is  another 
dispensation  preceding  the  Christian,  and  not  to  be  confounded  with  it,  nor  to  be 
swallowed  up  with  the  Jewish,  viz.,  John's  disp  •n>ation.  "Who  could,  as  the  fore- 
runner of  Christ,  represent  this, — who  could  say  that  the  way  of  the  Lord  had 
been  prepared ;  that  Christ  was  the  true  Messiah ;  that  he  had  seen  him ;  was 
witnessed  to  by  the  Holy  Ghost;  had  administered  to  him  the  rite  of  baptism; 
inducted  him  into  the  ministry;  that  former  things  were  about  to  be  done  away, 
and  that  all  things  in  Christ  must  b<x'ome  new, — but  the  beheaded  John  the 
Baptist,  the  only  prophet  and  teacher  found  on  the  page  of  the  history  of  that 
dispensation?  Was  he  not  selected  by  the  Head  of  the  Church  to  perform  this 
office?  A.  H.  F. 

Fourth  Series,  Vol.  V.— 29 


458  Short  Reviews  and  Notices  of  Books.  [July, 


Art.  X.— short  REVIEWS  AND  NOTICES  OF  BOOKS. 

(1.)  "  Rome,  its  Edifices  and  its  People;  hij  the  Author  of  Athens,  its  Grandeur 
and  Decay."  (New-York:  Carlton  &  FLillips ;  12mo.,  pp.  272.)  This  beauti- 
ful volume  is,  in  point  of  the  value  and  interest  of  its  contents,  fmd  the  excellence 
of  its  external  execution,  one  of  the  most  creditable  issues  of  the  prolific  press 
from  which  it  comes  forth.  Its  chief  object  is  to  give  an  account  cf  the  visible 
Rome — its  streets,  buildings,  &c. ;  but  it  abounds  also  in  useful  historical  infor- 
mation. After  a  chapter  on  the  rise,  progress,  and  decline  of  the  city,  we  have 
another  on  the  domestic  and  social  condition  of  the  ancient  Romans,  describ- 
ing, after  Becker,  the  every-day  life  of  a  Roman  family  In  minute  detail.  The 
following  passage  is  a  good  illustration  of  the  graphic  stj'le  of  the  work : — 

"It  is  the  third  ^ivat^h  of  Hie  nijrht:  the  last  rays  of  the  moon  are  fading  from 
the  Capitol  and  the  a'ijaoont  temples,  and  excepting  the  heavy  tread  of  the  watch- 
man on  the  broad  pavcinent,  ortbe  quick  step  of  some  one  hastening  homewards, 
the  mighty  heart  of  the  city  seoms  hushed  to  repose. 

"Yet  from  a  house  in  one  of  the  finest  streets  some  other  sounds  now  break 
the  general  stillness.  The  massive  door,  creaking  upon  its  hinges,  is  opened  by 
the  wrtt'-hful  pctrter,  fla-hing  thus  upon  the  street  a  sudden  glare  of  light  from  the 
candelabra  within.  Vniruiii/  in  the  atrium,  and  a  freedman  of  lordly  mien,  followed 
by  a  slave,  comes  forih  \\\>'<i\  the  i^avcment,  looking  out  anxiously  on  all  sides, 
and  jK-ering  into  the  di.-tuiue.  as  if  for  some  one  anxiously  expected.  The  object 
of  their  solicitudt»  is  thi'ir  lord,  whose  late  stay  has  greatly  disturbed  their 
quietmU',  and  brought  tlwin  out  of  doors  to  look  for  his  return. 

"  They  do  not  tarry  long ;  for  soon  the  hui-ried  step  of  a  man  emerging  from  the 
shadow  of  a  temple  hard  l>y,  and  ncaring  the  vestibule  where  they  stand,  puts  an 
end  to  their  appivhen-ions.  The  cause  of  his  delay  is  shown  by  his  outward  ap- 
pearance. A  festive  rolM-  of  a  bright-red  colour,  his  sandals  fastened  by  thongs 
of  the  same  dye,  and  n  eh.i;>l.'t  of  myrtles  and  roses  lianging  from  his  left  brow, 
—all  declare  his  return  fn.m  a  late-kept  banquet.  He  has  supped  at  the  impe- 
rial board,  ami  afterwunls  retired  to  a  convivial  circle  of  noble  friends,  where 
the  wine-cup  and  familiar  converse  have  winged  away  the  hours  of  the  night. 
Gladly  welccmeil  by  his  servants,  he  enters  his  house,  and  preceded  by  the  freed- 
man, with  a  wax  candle,  he  haptens  through  colonnades  and  saloons  to  his 
sleeping  apartments.  IbTc  the  slave  in  waiting  receives  his  robe  and  sandals; 
and  the  evbirularivf.  after  having  drawn  aside  the  elegant  tapestried  curtain, 
and  smc^.thcfl  again  the  purple  coverlet  that  nearly  conceals  the  ivory  bedstead, 
leaves  his  master  to  rei>ose.  15ut  now  hours  have  lied,  the  earliest  dawn  has 
come,  and  ere  yet  the  top'^  of  the  seven  hills  are  tinged  with  the  beams  of  the  re- 
turning sun,  th>:'  mansion  is  all  life  and  activity.  Troops  of  slaves,  issuing  from 
above  and  below,  spre.a  I  th"m>-'elve«  over  the  apartments,  and  are  soon  intent,  in 
several  ways,  on  cleanin?  the  lordly  residence.  Let  us  then  leave  them  to  their 
work,  and  catch  some  glimpses  as  we  may,  of  its  splendid  interior." 

The  doscni)tion  thai  follows  gives  us  a  vivid  picture  of  the  costly  magnificence 
of  the  later  Roman  mansions.  A  great  deal  of  information,  also,  as  to  domestic 
and  social  usages  is  comlensed  into  a  very  small  space.  We  give  a  specimen 
in  the  account  of  marriage  customs: — 

"  The  Romans  had  no  precise  aTC  f.r  marriage;  the  time  was  dependent  on  the 
will  of  the  parties.  Autjustus,  indeed,  enacted  that  nuptials  should  not  be  cele- 
brated too  soon  ;  but  in  his  time.  Roman  females  were  considered  marriageable  at 
twelve  years  of  age.  .  It  was  also  unlawful  to  marry  a  woman  far  .advanced  in 


1853.]  Short  Reviews  and  Notices  of  Books.  459 

years,  even  though  the  other  party  *houUl  himself  be  aged.  Like  the  Greeks,  the 
Romans  weie  l;ix  in  their  opinions  of  cons^anguinity. 

"  The  marriage  contract,  called  spoHsulia,  was  written  on  tablets,  and  signed 
by  both  parties.  According  to  Juvenal,  the  man  put  a  ring,  as  a  pledge  of  fidelity, 
on  the  finger  of  his  betrothed. 

"  It  was  believed  that  certain  days  were  inauspicious  for  the  celebration  of 
marriage  ;  either  owing  to  their  religious  character,  or  that  of  the  days  following, 
because  the  wife  had  to  perform  certniii  rites  the  day  after  her  nuptials,  which 
coiuld  not  take  place  on  any  of  the  dies  alri.  The  caieiuls,  nones,  and  ides  of 
every  month,  the  whole  of  May  and  February,  and  a  great  many  other  festivals, 
were  all  considered  dies  atri,  and  therefore  unsuitable.  AVidows  might,  however, 
marry  on  days  regarded  as  inauspicious  for  maidens. 

"  On  the  marriage-day,  the  bride  was  attinul  iu  a  long  whit-e  tunic,  adorned 
with  ribbons,  or  a  purple  fringe,  hound  round  the  waist  with  a  girdle.  Her  hair 
was  specially  distinguished  by  six  knots  or  tresses,  and  its  division  with  the 
point  of  a  spear.  She  wore  on  hov  head  a  crown  or  chaplet  of  flowers,  over  which 
was  a  sort  of  pink  veil,  which  fell  on  her  shoulders.  Her  sandals  differed  in 
shape  and  materials  from  those  of  other  maidens  :  they  were  light,  and  fit  only 
for  the  house,  symbolical,  perhaps,  of  the  domestic  duties  ou  which  she  was  now 
to  enter. 

*'  The  rite  of  marriage  was  very  simple.  A  sheep  was  sacrificed,  its  skin  was 
spread  over  two  chairs,  on  this  the  bride  and  bridegroom  sat  with  their  heads 
covered  ;  a  prayer  was  tlien  offered,  and  the  presentation  of  another  sacrifico 
completed  the  ceremony, 

"  Pretended  force  being  used  to  tear  the  bride  from  her  mother's  arms,  she  was 
conducted  in  the  evening  to  the  bridegroom's  house.  A  cake  was  borne  before  her, 
and  she  was  accompanied  by  three  boys  weariiiL'  the  ^',q■a  /)?ti-/ca-^c,  whose  parents 
were  still  living.  One  of  them  carried  before  hi'r  a  torch  of  white-thorn  or  pine- 
wood,  while  the  others,  supporting  her  arm,  walked  by  her  side.  A  distaflF  and 
a  spindle,  with  wool,  borne  by  the  bride,  indieaieJ  her  future  duties.  A  fourth 
boy  b'jre  a  covered  vase  containing  utensils  belonging  to  the  bride,  and  playthings 
for  children. 

"  Arrived  at  the  bridegroom's  house,  having  its  door  adorned  with  garlands  and 
flowers,  the  bride  was  carried  over  tlie  thre-lioM,  h'st  au  evil  omen  should  arise, 
by  her  striking  it  with  her  foot.  Pri'.n-  to  this,  she  wound  wool  around  the  door- 
posts, and  anointed  them  with  lard,  t^he  now  touched  fire  and  water,  which 
had  been  placed  ou  the  threshold  by  her  husb.ind,  most  probably  as  a  symbol  of 
welcome,  as  to  forbid  her  the  use  of  these  elements  was  equivalent  to  her  dis- 
missal. The  bride's  salutation  of  her  husbaud:"  followed, —  Ubi  lii  Caius,  ego 
Caia;  "  Where  you  are  master,  I  will  be  mistre-s,"  and  on  the  keys  of  the  house 
being  committed  to  her  hands,  there  was  a  feast  neeompanied  with  music,  at  the 
close  of  which  there  were  other  ceremonies,  wIkmi  the  guests  were  dismissed  with 
small  presents. 

"  During  the  better  days  of  the  republi*:-,  the  wife  occupied  the  most  important 
part  of  the  house — the  atrium;  she  presided  over  the  household,  educated  her  little 
ones,  and  shared  the  respect  and  honours  of  hir  hu.^baiid.  ]5ut  in  the  time  of  the 
emperors,  all  sense  of  morality,  and  even  de.\-ney,  departed  from  Roman  society. 
The  immoralities  of  its  women  were  cnorinotis  an^l  notorious.  Juvenal  penned 
against  them  his  longest  satire,  tcming  witii  bitter  ii^vective ;  and  as  he  had  much 
reason  for  doing  so,  the  state  of  the  whole  ootuununty  may  be  easily  imagined. 
The  true  elevation  of  woman  is  that  also  of  the  society  in  which  she  moves  as  its 
chief  ornament;  her  fall  is  a  sign  of  its  extri-mo  degradation  and  deep  misery." 

Not  less  valuable  and  attractive  is  tlie  rha[)ter  on  tlie  Arts,  Language, 
Literature,  Oratory,  and  moral  condition  ot'  tlie  ancient  Romans,  which  is  fol- 
lowed by  six  chapters  describing  the  principal  public  edifices  ofmodt^rn  as  well 
as  ancient  Rome.  The  plates  illustrating  this  part  of  the  work  arc  abundant, 
and  excellently  excouted.  The  chapter  on  th.>  rrlirjiou  of  Rome  shows  how 
the  superstitions  of  the  ancient  days  have  pas-ed  on  into  the  motlern,  and  how 
tlic  rites  and  ofliecs  of  Paganism  have  heeii  made  subservient  to  the  papal 


460  Short  Reviews  and  Notices  of  Boohs.  [July, 

power :  how  one  idol  has  been  ptiilcd  dowir  only  to  mate  way  for  another,  and 
change  has  taken  place  in  the  «awr,  rather  than  in  the  object  of  worship.  "We 
earnestly  commend  this  work  as  one  of  the  best  family  books  of  the  time,  full 
of  interest  and  attraction  for  young  and  old. 


(2.)  "\Ye  have  before  noticed  and  commended  Mr.  I^Iattison's  school  text- 
books in  astronomy ;  but  none  of  them,  in  our  judgment,  have  deserved  com- 
mendation better  than  his  new  treatise  entitled  '■'■A  Hirjli-School  Astronomy,  in 
tchich  the  Descriptive,  Phijsicnl  and  Practical  are  combined,  by  IIiram  ^Iat- 
TISOX,  A.  M.  (New-York:  V.  J.  Huntington;  1853,  12mo.,  pp-  240.)  It  is 
substantially  a  revised  edition  of  the  author's  "  Elementary  Astronomy  ;*'  but 
the  revision  is  so  ample  and  careful  as  to  justify  the  new  title.  We  have 
examined  the  l>ook  with  care,  and  do  not  hesitate  to  pronounce  it  the  best  work 
of  its  claf  3  that  has  come  under  our  notice. 


(3.)  «  The  Annual  of  Scientific  Discovery,  for  1853,"  (Boston:  Gould  &  Lin- 
coln, 12mo.,  pp.  Ill,)  makes  it^  ai)pcarancc  punctually.  Like  its  predecessors, 
it  fulfils  its  title  of  the  "  Year  Look  of  Science  and  Art,"  and  exhibits  the  most 
important  discoveries  and  improvements  of  the  year  in  Mechanics,  the  Useful 
Arts,  Natural  Philosophy,  CLemistiy,  Geology,  &e.,  and  at  the  same  time  gives 
valuable  notes  of  the  progress  of  science  during  the  year  throughout  the  world. 
The  volume  is  adorned  by  a  jwrtrait  of  Prof  A.  D.  Bache,  Superintendent  of 
the  Coast  Survev. 


(4.)  "  History  of  Nero,  by  Jacoii  Abbott,"  (NcM'-York :  Harper  &  Brothers ; 
18mo.,  pp.  321,)  is  another  of  those  clear  and  graphic  narratives  of  Mr.  Abbott's 
which  we  have  so  often  praised.  They  are  intended  for  the  young,  but  we 
know  certain  children  of  a  larger  growth  who  read  them  with  avidity. 


(6.)  Chakles  Dickens  kis  pleased  many  people,  but  he  has  rarely  done  a 
more  pleasant  and  accept-iblii  work  than  the  preparation  of  the  "-Child's  His- 
tory of  England,"  (vol.  1,  Kew-York:  Harper  &  Brothers;  ISmo.,  pp.  2S7,) 
of  which  the  first  volume^  is  before  us.  It  contains  the  history  of  England 
from  the  ancient  times  down  to  the  reign  of  Henry  the  Fifth ;  and  is  just  the 
book  to  entice  children  to  the  study  of  history. 


(6.)  ''Home  Scenes:  a  Family  Story,  by  Amanda  Weston."  (Syracuse: 
L.  C.  Matlock ;  1853  ;  l8mo.,  pp.  159.)  This  is  a  "  simple,  truthful  storj-,"  illus- 
tratmg  family  duties,  mistbrtunes  and  joys.  The  narrative  is  pleasing  and  the 
moral  excellent.  A  few  political  flings,  entirely  out  of  place,  are  the  only 
drawback  to  the  book. 


1853.]  Short  Reviews  and  Notices  of  BooHs.  461 

(7.)  "  Intercictcs,  Memorable  and  Useful,  by  Samuel  H.  Cox,  D.  D."  (Xew- 
York :  Harper  k  Brothers;  1853  ;  r2uio.,  pp.  32J,)  Is  a  thoroughly  character- 
istic book,  full  of  Latin  quotations,  Latin-Knglish  ^Tords,  oddities,  sense,  dog- 
matism, and  good-nature.  It  contains  accounts  of  interviews  "  from  diarj-  and 
memory  reproduced,"  -with  Chalmers,  Emmons,  John  Quincy  Adams,  two 
Mormons,  and  a  lady  of  fashion — a  strange  medley,  but  not  stranger  than  the 
book  and  the  author's  mind  seem  to  Iv.  Yet  there  Is  a  great  deal  of  good, 
hard  sense  wrapped  up  in  the  sometimes  quaint  and  often  lumbering  phrase- 
ology of  Dr.  Cox ;  while  some  of  his  interlocutors  are  graphically  portraved ; 
albeit  we  have  loss  of  them  than  of -the  author  himself  It  is  a  book  that  no 
one  who  takes  it  up  \n\l  be  likely  to  lay  down  until  he  has  finished  its  perusal. 


(8.)  The  history  of  ^Methodism  in  America,  especially  In  the  "West,  Is  a  record 
of  moral  heroism  unsurpassed  by  any  age  of  the  Church.  The  story  Is  yet 
unwritten.  The  historians  of  the  country  have  generally  Ignored,  In  utter 
blindness,  one  of  the  richest  fields  open  to  them;  and  the  historians  of  the 
Church  have  done  but  little  toward  a  true  and  ample  account  of  the  vast  and 
valorous  labours  of  these  modern  apostles.  We  welcome,  therefore,  ever}' 
contribution  toward  such  a  history' — every  memorial  that  rescues  from  oblivion 
one  of  the  heroic  names  of  the  American  Church.  Such  a  memorial  is  the 
"Zi/e  and  Tunes  of  Rev.  Allen  Wihii/,  A.  M.,  by  llcv.  F.  C.  Holliday,  A.  M." 
(Cincinnati ;  Swormstedt  &  Poe ;  1853  ;  12mo.,  pp.  291.)  Mr.  Wiley  was  born 
in  Virginia  in  17S9,  and  at  eight  years  of  ago  removed  with  his  father  to  Ken- 
tucky. Ills  opportunities  of  education  were,  of  course,  very  limited.  In  1804 
he  went  to  Indiana;  In  1808  was  converted;  and  in  ISlC  commenced  his 
career  as  an  Itinerant  ^Methodist  preacher.  His  early  laboui-s  were  very  effec- 
tive and  successful.  Ills  mind  was  niturally  vigorous,  and,  by  Indefatigable 
study,  he  made  amends  for  the  deficioncios  of  his  early  education  to  such  an 
extent  that  he  stood  at  last  on  a  level  with  the  trained  theologians  of  his  time, 
if  not  above  them.  "  For  many  years  previous  to  his  death,  he  was  in  the 
daily  habit  of  reading  the  Scrij.t'nos  In  the  Latin,  Greek,  and  Hebrew  lan- 
guages. Ik-  read  the  Hebrew  Bible  through  with  groat  care."  Such  results, 
achieved  amid  the  discouragements  and  difhculties  of  an  itinerant's  life  In  a 
new  country,  should  stimulate  our  younger  preachers  in  the  more  favourable 
circumstances  that  surround  the  itinerant  of  the  present  day,  to  renewed  dili- 
gence in  study.  There  Is  no  excuse,  but  want  of  health,  for  the  young  man 
who  fails  to  cultivate  his  mind  In  the  Methodist  ministry  of  these  fimes.  "With- 
out special  advantages  of  voice  or  manner,  Mr.  Wiley  owed  his  wide-spread 
popularity  to  the  force  of  thouglit  and  weight  of  matter  that  marked  his  dis- 
courses— a  tact  as  creditable  to  his  back-woo<ls  hearers  as  to  himself 

Mr.  HoUiday  has  given  us  an  interesting  volume,  and  we  trust  it  -w-ill  be 
widely  circulated.  Besides  the  memoir  of  Mr.  Wiley,  the  work  contains 
sketches  of  several  of  the  early  ^Methodist  preachers  in  Indiana,  and  an  inter- 
esting outline  of  the  rise  and  progress  of  Methodism  in  that  state.  The  last 
half  of  the  volume  is  taken  up  with  a  valuable  treatise  by  !Mr.  AViley,  entitled, 
"  A  Help  to  the  Performance  of  Ministerial  Duties." 


462  Short  Reviews  and  Notices  of  Boohs.  [July, 

(9.)  "  The  Bourbon  Prince:  the  History  of  the  Eoi/al  Dauphin,"  (New- York  : 
Harper  &  Brothers;  1853;  ISaio.,  pp.  202,)  is  translated  and  condensed  from 
De  Beauchesne's  recent  elaborati;  work — "  Louis  XVII.,  sa  Vic,  son  Agonie. 
sa  Mort."  It  contains  all  that  ]>ortion  of  the,  French  work  which  bears  directly 
upon  the  personal  history  of  the  Dauphin,  and  gives  the  tragic  storj'  in  a  form 
sufficiently  extended  for  ordinary  readers.  The  proof  of  the  Dauphin's  death 
is  not  perfect — at  least  as  it  is  oflered  iii  this  volume. 


(10.)  "  Ellen  Linn,"  (New- York  :  Harper  &  Brothers ;  ISmo.,  pp.  215 ;  1853,) 
IS  one  of  ^Ir.  Abbott's  '•  Franconia  Stories"  which  are  so  fascinating  for  young 
persons.  In  point  of  moral  tone,  the  volumes  of  this  series  are  unexceptiona- 
ble ;  in  po'rnt  of  style,  they  are  very  nearly  so. 


(11.)  ^'- Memoirs  of  Qn-: en  Eli:aleth,hy  Ag:!sKS  Strickland,"  (Philadelphia: 
Blanchard  &  Lea;  18:>3:  12uio.,  pp.  583,)  is  a  volume  detached  from  ^liss 
Strickland's  "  Lives  of  the  Queens  of  England,"  and  deservedly  published  in 
this  separate  form,  on  ao-ount  both  of  the  intrinsic  interest  of  the  subject,  and 
of  the  way  in  which  it  is  luindled.  In  spite  of  the  habitual  tendency  of  the 
author  to  whitewash  Komanisni,  and  in  spite,  especially,  of  her  hVmd  patro?iage 
of  ]Mary,  Queen  of  ScuL-j,  thi.->  biography  of  Elizabeth  is,  taken  as  a  whole,  the 
best  extant     But  that  is  not  saying  a  great  deal. 


(12.)  '\Lctiers  to  Srhool  Cirb,  by  Kcv.  R.  M.  Matthews."  (Cincinnati: 
Swormstedt  &  Poe;  1803;  18mo.,  pp.  247.)  This  volume  grew  out  of  a  series 
of  lectures  read  by  the  author  to  his  pupils  in  the  Oakland  Female  Seminary 
in  1848  and  1S49  It  onilxKlios  a  great  deal  of  practical  wLsdom  on  studv, 
manners,  morals,  kc,  and  deserves  to  be  widely  made  known  to  "  school 
girls," — which  designation,  by  the  way,  is  an  illustration  of  Mr.  Matthews' 
good  sense.  AVe  had  alino>t  begun  to  believe  that  "school  girls"  were  an 
obsolete  race,  and  that  their  place  was  supplied  by  "young  ladies"  and  "stu- 
dents" at  "  Female  ColK'ne.-." 


(13.)  Messrs.  Pw.  Carter  &  P>rothers  have  reprinted  Dr.  Wardlaw's  Essay  "On 
Miracles"  (New- York,  1S.j3;  12nio.,  pp.  295,)  which  contains  the  substance 
of  seven  lectures  dclivircd  by  the  veteran  to  his  congregation  during  the 
winter  of  1851-52.  Tlicy  Lave  been,  however,  very  wisely  recast — Dr.  Ward- 
law  having  discovered,  as  he  says,  that "  pulpit  discourses  are  not  a  particularlv 
favourite  or  attractive  article" — and  now  appear  under  the  form  of  a  treatise, 
or  essay,  divided  into  eiglit  chapters.  The  first  or  introductory  chapter  sets 
forth  the  importance  of  the  subject,  and  also  gives  the  author's  definition  of  a 
miracle;  in  which  he  adheres,  judiciously,  to  the  old  formula,  viz.,  that  "a 


1653.]  Short  Reviews  and  Notices  of  Books.  463 

miracle  is  a  suspension  of  the  known  laws  of  nature."  Several  modern  writers 
(e.g.  Trench,  Beard,  Neander,)  have  put  tlienist-lves  and  their  argument  upon 
slippcrj  ground  by  needless  refinements  on  this  point,  and  especially  by  deny- 
ing that  miracles  can  be  violations  or  suspensions  of  natural  law.  The  second 
chapter  treats  of  the  possibility  and  ])robability  of  miracles,  and  opens  the 
argument  on  their  certainty ;  i.  e.,  on  the  question  whether  we,  at  this  distance 
of  time  from  the  period  at  -vvhich  tlie  New  Tt-stament  miracles  are  said  to  have 
been  wrought,  have  surticlcnt  proof  on  which  to  rest  our  faith  of  their  having 
been  performed.  This  is  the  gist  of  the  whole  matter;  in  other  words,  it  is 
the  question  of  the  crcdibilit)/  of  miracles.  Accordingly,  Dr.  "NYardlaw  finds  it 
necessary  to  examine  ilr.  Hume's  celebrated  objection,  -which  he  does  very 
thoroughly  in  his  third  chapter.  In  the  fourth,  he  concentrates  the  principles 
of  the  argument  on  the  one  great  miracle  of  the  resurrection  of  Christ;  and 
in  the  fiith,  he  applies  them  to  the  Now  Testament  miracles  generally.  The 
sixth  and  seventh  chapters  treat  of  the  miracles  said  to  have  been  wrought  in 
support  of  falsehood,  and  of  Ivationalism,  .Spiritualism,  Mythism,  and  Romanism. 
The  concluding  chaj^ter  sets  forth  the  nature  of  Christ's  miracles,  and  their 
appropriateness  to  the  design  of  his  mission :  showing  also  the  importance  of 
that  design  and  of  our  duly  appreciating  It.  In  spite  of  a  certain  narrowness 
of  view,  especially  with  regard  to  Gennan  writers,  arising  from  Dr.  "Wardlaw's 
insufficient  acquaintance  with  any  literature  but  that  of  his  own  island,  the 
■work  is  a  most  valuable  and  timely  one. 


(14.)  "  The  Mother  and  her  OJf'spnnf;,  by  Stephen  Tracy,  I\I.  D.,"  (New- 
York:  Harper  &  Brothers;  1853;  12mo.,  pp.  .'iCl,)  Is,  so  far  as  we  are  capable 
of  judging,  a  very  sensible  treatise  on  the  subjects  indicated  by  its  title,  free 
from  all  indelicacy  and  quackery. 


(15.)  Minute  local  history  and  topography  are  not  only  very  pleasant,  but 
very  profitable  objects  of  study.  Books  treating  of  such  subjects  have  always 
been  popular,  and  have  deserved  to  be.  The  materials  for  such  a  book  about 
the  city  of  New- York  exist  in  abundance ;  but  they  are  scattered  through 
many  large  volumes  and  bulky  records.  Certainly  a  popular  history  of  the 
city  has  long  been  a  desideratum.  The  want  is  now  supplied  by  "  New-York: 
a  Historical  Skelch  of  the  Jli.^c  and  Prorjrcss  of  the  Metropolitan  City  of 
America."  (New- York  :  Carlton  .*c  rhilllj)s:  1853;  12mo.,  pp.  339.)  The  aim 
of  the  -^vrlter  is,  in  the  '■'■  hislorirnl  portion,  to  collect  and  detail  the  principal 
events  of  the  local  history  of  the  city  down  to  the  beginning  of  the  present 
century,  omitting,  as  far  as  i>ossIble,  all  matters  of  general  history  in  which 
the  city  was  not  direcdy  and  Individually  concerned."  A  brief  and  general 
history  of  the  last  half-century  is  also  appended.  In  the  descriptive  part  he 
has  endeavoured  to  select,  out  of  the  vast  number  of  objects  of  Interest  oflered 
by  the  great  city,  those  of  most  general  attractiveness  and  importance,  and  to 
group  them  in  such  a  way  as  to  present  as  lively  a  picture  of  the  town  as  pos- 


464  Short  Reviews  and  Notices  of  Boohs.  [July, 

sible,  even  for  those  who  have  never  scon  it.  In  these  aims  he  has  fully  suc- 
ceeded, and  the  book  13  just  what  it  ought  to  be,  in  point  both  of  comprehen- 
siveness and  condensation. 


(16.)  '■^Positive  Theology:  bclnfj  a  Series  of  Dissertations  on  the  Fundamen- 
tal Doctrines  of  the  Bible,  by  Rov.  Asbuky  Lowry,  A.  M."  (Cincinnati:. 
1853  ;  12mo.,  pp.  333.)  The  dosign  of  this  work  is  to  furnish  (for  the  use  of 
the  laity  and  of  beginners  in  theology)  a  treatise  setting  forth  dogmatically, 
but  in  plain  and  uutcchnicid  language,  the  leading  doctrines  of  Christianity. 
We.have  examined  it  with  some  care,  and  find  in  it  a  sensible  and  judicious 
exposition  of  the  main  features  of  Christian  doctrine,  free  from  the  forms  or 
the  hard  words  of  theological  controversy.  It  will  not  serve  the  purpose  of  a 
systematic  manual  of  theology  for  the  use  of  students ;  but  for  lay  readers  we 
think  it  a  book  every  way  worthy  of  commendation. 


(17.)  IIexry  PiOGKiis  has  been,  of  late  years,  one  of  the  best  contributors  to 
the  Edinburgh  Review;  and  indeed,  for  twenty  years  no  belter  writer  has 
occupied  the  pages  of  iliat  journal,  except  ^lacaulay  and  Sir  James  Stephen. 
The  "  Eclipse  of  Faith"  has  made  Rogers's  name  widely  known  in  this  country, 
and  has  prepared  the  way  for  a  favourable  reception  to  a  volume  of  his  con- 
tributions to  tlie  Edinburgh  just  collected,  under  the  title  of  '■''Reason  and 
Failh^and  other  Miscdlaniis."  (Boston:  Crosby,  Nichols  &  Co. ;  1852;  12mo., 
pp.  458.)  The  volume  contains  articles  on  Fuller,  ^larvell,  Luther,  and  Pas- 
Ctd;  besides  Essays  on  .S.icied  I^lo^jucnce,  The  Vanity  and  Glory  of  Litera- 
ture, The  Right  of  Prnate  Judgnieut,  and  Reason  and  Faith — their  Claims 
and  Conflicts.  "While  all  these  are  excellent,  the  fourth,  fit\h,  and  eighth  are 
preeminently  so.     The  volume  is,  emphatically,  a  book  for  the  times. 


(18.)  Our  judgment  of  M'Crie's  translation  of  "  The  Provincial  Letters" 
(New- York:  Carter  &  Brothers;  1853;  12mo.,  pp.  392,)  was  given  some  time 
ago,  in  an  ai-tlcle  on  "  Recent  Editions  and  Translations  of  Pascal."*  The 
amount  of  it  was,  that  Dr.  M'Crie's  version,  though  by  no  means  faultless,  is 
the  best  extant  in  the  English  tongue. 


(19.)  ^'Ministerial  Education  in  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  by  Rev. 
SiEriiEN  M.  Vail,  A.  M."  (Boston:  J.  P.  iMagce;  1853;  12mo.,  pp.  238.) 
The  object  of  this  volume  i>  to  maintain  that  the  ^Methodist  Episcopal  Church 
should  superadd  theological  schools  to  her  present  system  for  the  training 
of  candidates  for  tlie  ministry.  It  is  preceded  by  a  very  lucid  introduc- 
tion by  Dr.  Te{I"t,  (in  which  the  question  is  treated  with  as  much  clear  good 
sense  as  we  have  ever  seen  applied  to  it,)  the  sum  of  which  is,  "  that  no  man 

o  April,  1852,  .\xt.  iv. 


1853.]  Short  Reviews  and  Notices  of  Books.  465 

has  a  right  to  preach  who  ha.s  not  been  called ;  that  the  caU  does  not  neces- 
sarily qualify  the  subject  of  it,  excepting  as  to  the  authoritativeuess  of  bis  holy 
mission,  and  the  unction  it  brings  with  it,  for  the  daily  duties  of  the  profession; 
that,  like  aU  good  things  here  below,  spiritual  as  well  as  temporal,  tlie  needful 
qualifications  have  to  be  acquired  by  the  personal  efforts  of  the  individual ; 
that,  though  there  is  no  a  priori  reason,  or  principle  per  se,  to  decide  whether 
these  cflbrts  ought  to  be  made  in  a  seminary,  or  out  of  it,  analogy,  experience, 
and  common-sense  concur  in  determining  the  question,  in  most  cases,  on  the 
side  of  the  positive  and  well-directed  discipline  of  a  ministerial  sch^l ;  but 
that  the  advantages  of  these  schools  should  be  used  only  as  a  help  at  the  begin- 
ning of  the  minister's  studious  career,  leaving  him,  when  they  are  past,  a  fife- 
time  of  still  more  diligent  and  constantly  growing  zeal  in  studving  into  the 
deep  things  that  a  teacher  of  the  '  masteries  of  the  kingdom'  ought  to  know." 
A  large  part-  of  Mr.  Yail's  treatise  originally  appeared  in  the  columns  of  the 
Northern   Christian  Advocate.     His  argument  is  almost  entirely  historical; 
aiming  to  show  tliat,  under  the  old  dispensation,  tlie  Levites  and  the  prophet^ 
were  trained  in  special  schools  for  the  sacred  oflice;  and  that,  in  the  openin<T 
of  the  Christian  dispensation,  the  apostles  and  disciples  were  specially  trained 
by  our  Lord  himself  for  their  great  work.    He  thinks  it  certain,  also,  that  Paul 
superintended  the  ministerial  education  of  Timothy  and  Titus,  and  probably 
of  many  others.     He  believes,  also,  that  there  was  something  approachln-  to 
a  systeni  of  theological  training  in  the  apostolic  times— schools  for  ministel-lal 
instruction,  the  nature  of  which  is  thus  sxmnned  up :  "  They  were  private 
companies  of  men,  whom  a  living  faith  in  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  had  banded 
together,  first  under  our  Lord  himself,  and  afterward  under  the  apostle^  and 
elders  of  the  Church.     Their  studies  and  lectures  were  on  the  great  subjects 
of  the  ^Messiah's  kingdom— it^  doctrines,  duties,  and  relations,  as'^preseuted  in 
the  Holy  Scriptures.     In  this  age  of  the  Church,  we  have  no  eridence  that 
there  were  any  buildings  erected  for  these  .schools,  or  that  any  books  were 
used,  save  the  Holy  Scriptures.    The  place  of  meeting  was  the  synagoaue,  the 
church,  or  the  private  apartment.    Tlicrc  wltc  no  endowments;  butlhe  elders 
and  teachers  were  supported  by  the  contributions  of  the  benevolent,  and  of 
tJiose  taught.    Gal  vi,  6."     These  topics  occupy  the  first  six  chapters  of  the 
book ;  the  seventh  and  eighth  set  forth  the  origin  and  history  of  the  ancient 
School  of  Theology  at  Alexandria.     The  decay  of  Biblical  study  and  of  minis- 
terial education  in  the  ages  following  Constantinc,  and  their' revival  in  the  ' 
Brrtish  Islands,  are  exhibited  in  the  ninth  chapter.     The  obiect  of  this  his- 
torical sketch,  and -of  that  of  the  state  of  the  Church  in  the  middle  ages,  civen 
in  the  tenth  chapter,  is  to  show  that  the  "  purest  ages  of  the  Churchliave 
always  produced  Biblical  schools;  whila  the  ages  of  superstition,  corruption 
and  ignorance  have  destroyed  them."     The  great  lights  of  the  Refonnatiou-' 
Luther,  :\Ielancthon,  Calvin,  and  Beza— were  all  lecturers  on  Biblical  Theology ; 
so  was  Armluius,  whose  theological  views,  modified  by  John  We^lf^y  have'^'^o 
profoundly  penetrated  the  Church.     Tiic  eleventh  chapter  treats  of  the  meas- 
ures adopted  by  the  Wesleyan  Methodists  to  secure  the  training  of  their  minis- 
ters, and  the  remcuning  nine  chapters  treat  specifically  of  the  question  of 
theological  education  in  the  M.  E.  Church. 


466  Short  Reviews  and  Notices  of  Books.  [July, 

Mr.  Yail  uses  a  plain  but  perspicuous  style,  and  writes  like  a  man  In  earnest. 
His  book  will,  we  trust,  receive  a  calm  and  serious  consideration  throughout 
the  Church.  We  hope  to  be  able  to  give  our  own  views  of  the  subject  at 
length  in  a  future  number. 


(20.)  We  have  received  the  thii-d  and  fourth  volumes  of  "  The  Life  and  ]VorJ:s 
of  Robert  Burns,  edited  by  KonKUT  Chambeus,"  (New- York:  Harper  & 
Brothers,  1852;  4  vols.,  I'-'nio.,)  which  arc  prepared  in  the  same  careful  and 
thoroucrh  way  as  the  former  volumes.  The  plan  of  the  work,  it  will  be  re- 
membered, Is  peculiar — incorporating  the  poems  in  their  proper  chronological 
places  in  the  narrative,  and  thus  making  them,  what  in  fact  they  are,  part  of 
the  biography  of  the  poet.  No  other  edition  of  Burns  can  compete  with  this 
In  fulness  and  accuracy. 


(21.)  '■'■  Uistory  of  the  State  of  Xeic-York,  by  JoHX  Romeyx  Brodhead." 
(New- York:  Harper  &  Brothers,  1853;  8vo.,  pp.  801.)  This  is  the  first  in- 
stalment of  a  work  which,  if  carried  on  as  it  has  been  begun,  will  be  an  honour 
not  merely  to  the  author,  but  to  the  country.  !Mr.  Brodhead  divides  the 
history  of  New- York  into  four  periods:  the  first,  from  its  discovery  by  the 
Dutch  in  1609  to  its  seizure  by  the  English  In  16G4  ;  the  second  extends  from 
1C64  down  to  the  cession  of  Canada  to  England  in  1763  ;  the  third,  from  1763 
to  the  inauguration  of  President  Washington  In  1789  ;  and  the  fourth  embraces 
the  annals  of  the  state  from  the  organization  of  the  Federal  Government  on- 
ward. The  volume  before  us  is  occupied  with  the  history  of  the  first  of  these 
periods— embracing  the  settlement  and  the  Dutch  history  jjroper — a  field 
congenial  to  Mr.  ]3rodliead,  and  which  he  has  treated  most  admirably.  He 
ha^  a  clear  and  simple  stylo,  free  In  the  main  from  the  rhetorical  ambitiousness, 
which  is  the  vice  of  Bancroft,  and,  In  fiict,  of  American  writers  of  history  In 
general ;  his  sense  of  truth  is  strong  and  prevailing ;  his  selection  and  grouping 
of  points  are  arti>;tlcal  and  cfiective  ;.and  the  work,  moreover,  has  a  tone  of  life 
and  earnestness  which  carries  the  reader  fully  with  it.  We  .regret  that  our 
space  will  not  allow  us  to  j»rescnt  illustrative  passages ;  but  we  hope  at  a  future 
day,  with  further  volumes  of  the  work  before  us,  to  give  it  an  extended  review. 
In  the  mean  time,  we  commend  the  work  to  our  readers  as  Indispensable  to 
every  well-furnislicd  library. 


(22.)  "  The  Prcarher  and  the  King  ;  or,  Bourdaloue  in  the  Court  of  Louis  XIV., 
translated  from  the  French  of  L.  Eunrjerer ;  with  an  Introduction  by  Rev. 
S.  Potts,  U.  D."  (Hoston  :  Gould  and  Lincoln,  1853  ;  12mo.,  pp.  338.)  The 
title  of  this  book  conveys  no  adequate  idea  of  its  deeply  interesting  and 
attractive  contents.  In  form  it  is  a  story,  or  rather  dialogue.  Introducing 
Fe'nelon,  Arnauld,  Claude,  Bourdaloue,  and  other  distiniruishcd  preachers  of 
the  age  of  LouLs  XIV.,  with  glances  at  the  splendid  court  of  the  "  Great 


1853.]  Short  Revieivs  and  Notices  of  Books.  467 

Bjng,"  and  of  the  \iciou3  retinue  that  attended  him.  On  the  slender  thread 
of  the  narrative  are  strung  many  choice  pearls  of  criticism  and  observation. 
The  work  is,  in  fact,  as  Dr.  Potts  observes  in  his  Intro^luction,  "substan- 
tially a  book  on  eloquence,  especially  sacred  eloquence,  and  none  the  less 
worthy  of  respectful  attention  becau-se  its  criticisms,  arc  embodied  in  a  spirited 
narrative,  embracing  occurrences  and  persfjns  wliich  belong  to  the  actual  history 
of  that  extraordinary  era."  It  treats,  in  tliat  lively  and  pointed  style  of  dis- 
cussion which  none  but  a  Frenchman  can  reach,  of  the  handling  of  the  text, 
of  di'visions,  of  the  delivery  of  the  sermon,  and  of  most  of  the  other  topics  of 
theoretical  and  practical  homiletics. 


(23.)  We  have  received  the  fifth  and  sixth  volumes  of"  The  Works  ofShoJcfipcare, 
edited  hy  Rev.  H.  N.  Hudson,  A.  M.  (Boston  :  James  Monroe  &  Co. ;  12mo.) 
The  same  judicious  style  of  annotation— not  excessive,  but  sufficient  for  the 
ordinary  reader — which  marked  tlic  former  volumes  of  this  edition,  characterizes 
the  two  before  us.  In  point  of  size,  goodness  of  type,  portability,  8cc.,  tliis  is 
certainly  the  best  edition  of  Shakspcare  as  a  text  for  reading  now  extant  in 
the  language. 


(24.)  TuE  American  Unitarian  Association  is  publishing  a  series  of  books 
which  give  by  authority  (so  far  as  then-  is  any  authority  in  that  denomination 
on  theological  questions)  the  views  of  those  Unitarians  who  hold  to  the  authen- 
ticity and  inspiration  of  the  Christian  Scriptures.  The  first  of  those  that 
Las  reached  us  is,  "  Discourses  on  the  Uniiij  of  God,  and  other  Subjects,  by 
W.  G.  Eliot,  Jr.,  Pastor  of  the  First  Congregational  Society  of  St.  Louis." 
(Boston:  Crosby,  Nichols  &  Co. ;  1S.0.'J;  r.'mo.,  |)p.  1C8.)  Mr.  Eliot  presents 
the  Unitarian  theory  of  Cliristlanlty  in  its  very  best  aspect,  and  writes  with  a 
clearness,  moderation,  and  judgment  rarely  brought  to  the  treatment  (in  a 
polemical  way)  of  theological  topics.  "Whoever  wishes  to  see  the  most  and 
best  that  can  be  said  for  Unltarianism  will  find  it,  in  short  compass,  in  this  book. 
One  example  of  apparently  unfair  dealing  appears  in  the  volume  however, 
viz.,  the  citation  of  Kuinool's  Commentary  as  a  "standard  work  in  orthodox 
universities,"  implying  thereby  that  Kuinoel  is  an  orthodox  authority,  which 
Mr.  Eliot  knows,  or  should  know,  is  not  the  fact.  It  is  somewhat  amusing  to 
see  how  promptly  IMr.  Eliot  sets  I'^ide  the  orthcxlox  method  of  interpretation  In 
applying  certain  passages  of  Scripture  to-Christ's  human  nature,  (p.  50,)  while 
he  adopts  precisely  the  same  mellio<l  fp.  61)  in  order  to  get  rid  of  those  pas- 
sages in  wliich  "similar  language  Is  applied  to  Christ  and  to  God." 

We  cannot  say  so  nmch  for  the  execution  of  another  volume  bearing  the 
same  imprimatur,  entitled,  "  11  (/cni'ration,  by  Edmuxd  II.  Se.^rs."  (12mo., 
pp.  248.)  The  style  is  elaborate  and  ambitious,  only  too  fine  for  tlic  purpose, 
and  quite  diilcrent  from  the  cirar,  curt,  and  conq)rehcnsive  style  of  Mr.  Eliot. 
But  the  subj.'ct  is  treated  with  remarkable  ability.  The  work  is  divided  into 
three  parts,  of  which  the  first  treats  of  the  "  natural  man,"  the  second  of  the 
"  spiritual  nature,"  and  the  third  of  the  "  new  man."     Discarding  the  theory 


468  Short  Reviews  and  Notices  of  Books.  [July, 

of  the  imputation  of  Adam's  giiill  to  his  posterity,  Mr.  Sears  goes  far  beyond 
the  usual  admissions  of  Unitiirian  writcre  on  depravity.  He  holds  that  human 
nature  is  not  merely  functionally  but  orfrauically  depraved,  and  tliat  certain  of 
its  internal  forces  are  so  corrupt  as  to  require  extinction,  •while  at  the  same 
time  they  are  transmitted  from  generation  to  generation  by  a  universal  law  of 
descent,  tainting  the  whole  race.  Nevertheless,  man's  spiritual  nature  still 
exists,  forming  an  inborn  capacity  for  holiness,  and  a  receptivity  of  divine 
influences,  which  are  imparted,  generally,  to  all  men,  and  specially  to  Chris- 
tians, and  which  constitute  the  source  of  holiness  in  man.  Regeneration,  then, 
includes: — 1.  The  receiving  of  the  Holy  Spirit;  2.  The  inclination,  under  this 
spiritual  influence,  of  our  natural  powci-s  toward  God;  3.  The  expulsion  of  our 
corrupt  instincts,  whether  inherited  or  acquired.  Such  is  the  outline.  One 
would  think  the  writer  was  trying  how  near  he  could  come  to  the  substance 
of  evangelical  theology  witliout  adopting  its  forms.  Of  course  we  cannot 
regard  the  book  as  sound,  logical,  or  Scriptural  in  its  theology ;  but  it  tends  in 
the  right  direction,  ^\'e  fhall  rejoice  to  find  such  books  as  these  multiplied 
by  the  Unitarian  Association.  Their  influence  will  be  shown  in  the  next  gen- 
eration, if  not  in  this,  in  the  return  of  many  not  only  to  the  spirit,  but  to  the 
forms  of  the  old  historical  theology  of  the  Church,  so  far  as  those  forms  are 
Scriptural,  as  they  are  in  the  main. 


(25.)  "  77ie  Poetry  of  the  Veffttable  World:  a  Popular  Exposition  of  the 
Science  of  Botany  and  its  Julations  to  Man,  by  M.  J.  Sleiden',  M.  D.,  Pro- 
fessor of  Botany  in  the  University  of  Jena."  (Cincinnati:  Moore  &  Co.; 
Xew-York  :  Newman  ;  12nio.,  pp.  3G0.)  Tlie  title  of  this  book  affords  no  clue 
to  its  exceedingly  lieh  contents.  It  not  only  sets  forth  the  facts  and  principles 
of  botany  perspicuou.^ly  :ind  comprehensively,  but  it  also  treats,  in  a  broad 
and  philosophical  way,  of  the  relation  of  plants  to  the  organism  of  nature  and 
of  the  human  race.  Finding,  too,  in  the  vegetable  world  a  hieroglyphic  of  the 
Eternal,  it  unfolds  the  relations  of  the  world  through  man  to  God.  There  are 
faults  and  gaps,  but  what  hunun  work  is  perfect?  The  English  edition  has 
been  carefully  edited  by  Professor  Alphonso  Wood  of  Cincinnati. 


(26.)  The  fourth  and  concluding  volume  of  "  TTie  Ilktory  of  the  Restoration 
of  Monarchy  in  France,  by  Ai.piioxse  De  Lamartixe,"  (New-York :  Har- 
per &  Brothers;  ]Sr)3\  12mo.,  pp.  521,)  brings  the  history  down  to  the  expul- 
sion of  Charles  X.  from  France.  It  is,  in  some  respects,  the  best  of  the  four 
volumes — impartial  in  it5  judgment.-?,  so  far  as  Lamartine  can  be  impartial 
in  treating  any  subject  into  wliioh  he  throws  his  fine  sympathies — graphic  in 
its  pictures,  and,  on  the  whole,  trustworthy  in  its  statement  of  facts.  The 
times  of  the  restored  lyouis  XVIII.  and  of  Charles  X.  do  not  abound  in  stir- 
ring adventure,  but  the  intrigues,  reactions,  and  political  combinations  of  the 
period  require  nice  discrimination  for  their  treatment.  Lamartine  is  morg 
than  fair  to  Charh-;  X.  and  his  ministers.  The  work,  now  completed,  should 
be  in  everj*  well-furnished  library. 


1853.]  Short  Reviews  and  Notices  of  Books.  469 

(27.)  "The  Annotated  Paragraph  Bible,  with  Explanatory  Notes,  ^'c,  vol.  1. 
Genesis  to  Solomon's  Song."  (New-York:  C.  B.  Norton;  1853;  Svo.,  pp. 
720.)  The  text  of  this  edition  is  divided,  aroording  to  the  natural  pauses,  into 
paragraphs  and  sections,  wth  appropriate  headings  to  each,  the  chapters  and 
Terses  being  marked  in  the  margin.  Brief  notes  are  subjoined  to  each  page, 
chieflj  illustrating  manners,  customs,  usages,  &c. ;  while  comprehensive  intro- 
ductory prefaces  are  given  with  each  book.  The  whole  work  is  prepared  with 
great  care,  and  it  is  illustrated  quite  largely  with  maps  and  drawings.  We  have 
seen  no  edition  of  the  Bible  so  well  suited  for  private  and  family  reading. 


(28.)  Of  "Home-n/c  in  Germamj,  by  Charles  L.  Brace,"  (New-York- 
C.  Scnbner;  12mo.,  pp.  44-1,)  we  should  be  glad  to  say  a  great  deal  and  to 
give  copious  extracts,  but  the  book  luis  reached  our  table  at  so  late  a  period 
that  we  can  only  announce  it,  merely  adding  that  we  can  bear  personal  testi- 
mony to  the  fidelity  of  its  pictures  of  German  life,  and  that  no  book  of  travel 
\u  Germany  for  many  years  has  rivalled  thii  in  i>oint  of  interest  and  truthful- 
ness. Our  readers  who  wish  to  know  how  the  great,  and,  in  many  respects 
excellent  German  people  live  about  their  own  firesides  wiU  find  a  store-house' 
of  instruction  and  entertainment  in  Mr.  Brace's  padres. 


(29.)  The  "  Complete  Historical  Serie.-^,"  by  S.  G.  Goodrich,  (Peter  Parley,) 
has  been  several  years  before  the  public  and  has  met  with  great  success.  New 
and  revised  editions  have  just  been  issued  by  E.  11.  Butler  &  Co.,  Pha.,  in 
very  neat  form.  The  scries  consists  of  a  "Piriorlal  llistonj  of  the  United 
States,"  (12mo.,  pp.  3G0;)  '^  Pictorial  lliMorij  of  England;'  brought  down  to 
the  time  of  Queen  Victoria  (12mo.,  pp.  414  ;)  ^'Pictorial  llistonf of  France;' 
down  to  1848,  (pp.  34  7  ;)  "  Pictorial  Histonj  of  Greece,"  ancient  and  moden'i, 
(pp.  371;)  "Pictorial  History  of  Jiomc,"  with  a  sketch  of  the  history  of 
modern  Italy,  (pp.  333 ;)  and  « Peter  Parley'x  Common  School  Ilistonj;' 
intended  to  furnish  a  clear  outline  of  univer-al  history  down  to  1849.  The 
paragraphs  in  each  history  are  numbered,  and  questions  arc  subjoined  upon 
each  for  the  purpose  of  cla^s-training.  We  know  no  better  books  of  the  kind 
than  this  series. 


(30.)  "Life  of  Thomas  Chalmers,  D.  D.,  edited  by  Rev.  James  C.  Moffatt, 
M.  A.,  Professor  of  Latin,  Sec,  at  Princeton."  (Cincinnati :  Moore  &  Co. ; 
12mo.,  pp.  435.)  This  volume  professes  to  be  little  more  than  an  abridgment 
of  Dr.  Ilanna's  Memoir  of  Chalmers,  which  has  been  republished  in  this'coun- 
trj-  by  Messrs.  Harper  &  Brothers.  As  such  it  may  be  useful  to  many  who 
cannot  purchase  the  larger  work.  How  far,  under  the  present  lawless  con- 
dition of  international  coj)yright,  abridgments  of  works  already  before  the 
public  should  be  undert^iken,  except  by  the  publishers  who  may  have  taken 
the  risk  of  the  greater  enterprise,  is  a  question  on  both  sides  of  which  some- 
thing might  be  said.     We  are  inclined  to  think,  however,  that  so  long  as  all 


470  Short  Revieias  and  Notices  of  Books.  [July, 

American  publishers  alike  have  unlimited  right  to  print  English  books  without 
compensation  to  the  authors,  they  should  respect  the  quasi  rights  gained  by- 
priority  of  republication. 


(31.)  ''Leila;  or  the  Tslaml,  by  Axx  Fraser  Tytler,"  (New- York  :  C.  S. 
Francis  &  Co.;  1853 ;  18mo.,  pp.  23'2,)  is  a  very  pretty  Crusoe-like  story  of*  a 
gentleman  and  bis  daughter  who  wore  wrecked  on  an  uninhabited  island,  and 
made  their  abofle  there  lor  some  years.  It  abounds  in  excellent  moral  and 
religious  lessons.  From  the  same  publishers  we  have  received  '■'■Arhell,  by 
Jane  AVlxnaud  IIooi'Eii,"  which  has  less  of  the  religious  character.  Both 
are  very  neatly  printed  and  illustrated. 


(32.)  The  fifth  volume  of  the  ilarco  Faul  Scries,  so  attractive  to  little  folks, 
is  "3/arfo  Paul  in  Boston,  by  Jacob  Abbott,"  (18mo.,  pp.  192,)  just  pub- 
lished b}-  ^lessrs.  Harper  &  Biothers.  Parents  may  freely  furnish  these  books 
to  tlieir  children. 


(33.)  ''Lecturer  on  Pastoral  Theology:  by  the  Eev.  Jajies  S.  Caxnox, 
D.  D."  (New- York:  C.  .Sribner;  Hvo.,  pp.  617.)  Dr.  Cannon  was  for  many 
years  Professor  of  Pa>t«jral  Theology  and  Ecclesiastical  Historj-  in  the  Theo- 
logical iSeminary  of  the  lluformed  Dutch  Church,  at  New-Bruuswick,  N.  J.. 
where  he  died,  full  of  years  and  honours,  in  July,  1852.  The  volume  contains 
thirty-six  lecturo.  covi-ritiLr  tlie  entire  range  of  pastoral  theology,  and  more 
besides.  Part  I.  treats,  in  nine  lectures,  of  the  "  Qualifications  of  the  Pastoral 
Oflice,"  which  arc  stated  to  be  :  1.  A  divine  call ;  2.  Suitable  intellectual  endow- 
meuts;  3.  Certain  gracious  endowments;  4.  Aptness  to  teach,  under  which 
head  the  common  topics  of  homileticsare  treated.  Part  IT.  treats  of  "Pastoral 
Duties,"  viz.,  prayer,  j.rcaching,  the  administration  of  the  sacraments,  cate- 
chlzation  and  pa.-.toral  visiting,  and  example.  Most  of  these  points  are  treated 
in  ample  detail,  and  with  great  good  sense.  The  work  is  a  valuable  addition 
to  our  scanty  stock  of  books  on  jvistoral  theology. 


(34.)  Fe-nv  men  have  lived  and  laboured  in  this  world  to  whom  it  owes  so 
much,  and  of  whom  it  knows  so  little,  as  the  translators  of  the  English  Bible. 
Eminent  for  learning  and  jjicty  as  these  men  were  in  their  day,  few,  except 
the  learned,  now  know  oven  their  names;  and,  even  among  the  learned,  little 
has  been  known  of  their  history.  No  person  appears  to  have  thought  of  col- 
lecting the  scattered  facts  of  their  history,  before  the  author  of  a  work  now  be- 
fore us,  entitled  "  77i,.'  Transla'ors  revived;  a  Biographical  Memoir  of  the 
Author.^  of  the  English  Version  of  the  Bible;  by  A.  V\.  ^iI'Clure."  (New- 
York  :  C.  Scriluier,  1853  ;  12mo.,  pp.  250.)  Mr.  :\r'Clure  has  gone  through  a 
great  deal  of  toil  in  searching  for  the  information  which  his  welcome  book 
aflbrds.     He  gives  in  an  introduction  a  full  account  of  the  dilfercnt  English 


1853.]  Short  Reviews  and  Notices  of  Books.  471 

versions  before  the  times  of  James  I.,  and  states  at  length  the  occasion  of  the 
present  translation,  and  the  mcthcKls  by  which  it  >vas  prepared.  Then  follow 
biographical  sketches,  more  or  less  extended,  of  all  the  men  employed  u}X)n 
the  great  work.  Mr.  M'Clure's  pages  allbrd  ample  proof  "of  the  surpassing 
qualifications  of  these  venerable  translators,  taken  as  a  body,  for  their  high  and 
holy  work."  Ills  book,  moreover,  is  full  of  interest  in  itself,  and  deserves  tlie 
widest  possible  circulation. 


(35.)  '•  Epitome  of  Greek  and  Hainan  Mulhology ;  idlh  Explanatory  Notes  ami 
a  Vocabulary:  by  Jonx  S.IIart,  LL.  D.,rrincipal  of  the  Philadelphia  High 
School,"  &c.  (Philadelphia:  Lippii.cott,  Crambo  &  Co.;  12nio.,  pp.  162^) 
This  volume  contains  an  outline  of  c]a,s.Mcal  mythology,  in  Latin,  long  used  in 
elementary  instruction  in  France,  under  the  title  "of  "  Epitome  de  DIls  et 
Herolbus  Poeticis,"  originally  prepared  by  the  Jesuit  Juvencius.  It  will  serve 
the  double  purpose  of  a  text-book  for  exercise  and  practice  in  Latin,  and  also 
of  a  manual  of  mythology :  and  is  the  better  for  either  purpose  because  it  serves 
both.  The  student  of  this  little  bwjk,  while  daily  hammering  out  his  task  as  a 
beginner,  ^s'ill  insensibly  find  tlie  tiicts  of  mytiiology  "ground  into  him."  It  is 
remarkable  how  facts  learned  n\  this  wny stick  in"tiie  memory:  the  old  school- 
masters had  some  reason  for  making  the  boys  learn  all  granunar-rulos  in  I^tin. 
To  facilitate  the  use  of  the  book,  examiiiation-Kpiestions  are  subjoined  to  each 
page ;  and  a  sufficiently  copious  body  of  notes,  and  a  vocabulary  at  the  end  of 
the  book,  furnish  all  the  apparatus  (cxcejjt  the  grammar)  necessary  for  its  use 
as  a  grammatical  lesson-book.  We  rucommend  the  book  most  earnestly  to  the 
notice  of  classical  teachers,  believing  that  a  careful  examination  will  lead  them 
to  adopt  it;  and  that  its  use  will  be  of  service  in  making  thorough  scholars. 

(36.)  "  The  Human  Body  at  the  lirs'.irrcrtlon  of  the  Dead,  hy  Ceorgk  Hodg- 
sox."  (London:  J.  Mason,  Is:,;?;  pp.  88.)  In  this  tractate  Mr.  Hodgson 
-seeks  to  show  that  the  notion  tliat  the  iKidy  will,  at  the  resurrectiou,  be  spirit- 
ualized or  refined  into  "  a  body  jvirtly  spirit  and  partly  matter  "  is  contrarv 
alike  to  Scripture  and  to  philoM.phy.  Ho  also  impugns  the  common  opinion 
that  "  flesh  and  blood  "  cannot  enter  h(>aven,  and  n-jects  the  current  physiolorn- 
cal  doctrine  of  the  '•  waste  "  and  •'  reparation  "  of  the  human  body. '  The  way 
is  thus  prepared  for  a  rejection  of  the  i/enn  theory  (so  called)  of  the  resiu-- 
rection.  (which  .Air.  Hodgson  holds  to  be  ilestitute  of  foundation,  eith.-r  in  rea- 
son or  Scripture,)  and  for  the  estal)lishnu?nt  of  his  own  view,  which  is  that  the 
primitive  matter  of  the  body,  witliout  loss  or  modification,  will  be  raised  up  in 
fulness  of  life— no/^e  of  its  organs  (e.  g.,  th.^e  for  eating  and  digestion)  bcin" 
wanting.  :Mr.  Hodgson  is  not  a  praetivd  or  easy  writer,  but  appears  to  be 
firmly  convinced  of  the  truth  of  hl<  .•.Hi.lusions,  and  maintains  his  points  with 
a  good  deal  of  vigour. 

(37.)  American  books  of  travel,  whether  of  the  grave,  didactic  sort,  or  of  the 
light  and  sketchy,  are  the  best  of  any  written  at  the  present  day.     The  causes 


472  Short  Reviews  and  Notices  of  Books.  [July, 

of  tliis  snperiority  are  not  far  to  seek— but  this  is  not  the  place  to  exhibit  them. 
Among  the  best  of  the  second  clasd  -which  our  literature  has  produced  is 
"  Yusef:  or  the  Journc]j  of  (he  Fvaufji,  by  J.  Ross  Browxe."  (New-York : 
Harper  &  Brothers,  1853;  12mo.,  pp.  421.)  Mr.  Browne,  with  true  Yankee 
spirit,  set  out  from  Washincrtou  with  fifteen  dollars  to  make  a  tour  of  the  East. 
On  the  way  he  took  to  whaling  in  the  Indian  Ocean,  and  (oddly  enough)  to 
four  years  work  at  a  clerk's  dc>k  in  Washington,  aiid  then  to  reporting  debates 
in  California  !  .After  thfse  digressions  (the  story  of  which  may  be  found 
partly  in  Harper's  ^lagazine)  he  took  the  real  tour  of  which  this  book  is  the 
record.  And  a  curious  recor<l  it  is — a  medley  of  sense  and  raillery,  of  acute 
observation  and  pheasant  narrative,  all  impregnated  with  unfailing  good 
humour,  and  set  off  with  an  occasional  extravagance  for  which  full  traveller's 
allowance  must  be  granted.  Altogether  it  is  a  very  spirited  and  agreeable 
book. 


(38.)  "  Three  Months  vruUrlhc  6'noif,"  (New- York  :  Carlton  &  Phillips,  ISmo., 
pp.  178,)  is  one  of  the  most  affecting  and  even  fascinating  narratives  we  have 
ever  read.  It  is  the  story  of  a  little  boy,  who,  Avith  his  grandfather,  was 
buried  under  the  snow  in  a  mountain  cottage,  in  Switzerland.  Let  our  read- 
ers get  it  if  they  wish  to  be  charmed,  affeeted,  and  edified. 


(39.)  The  fit\h  volume  of  "  T/.t?  Complete  Works  of  Samuel  Taylor  Coleridge" 
(New-York:  Ilaqier  &  Brothers,  12mo.,  pp.  623,)  contains  the  third  and 
fourth  volumes  of  his  Literary  llcmains  as  collected  and  edited  by  Henry 
Nelson  Coleridge.  A  review  of  the  whole  work  is  in  preparation,  and  will 
appear  as  soon  as  possible  after  the  publication  of  this  new  and  complete 
edition  is  finished. 


(40.)  The  latest  volume  of  Bohn's  Scientific  Librarj'  contains  a  selection  from 
the  '■'■Works  of  Lord  Baron"  (12mo.,  pp.  567,)  including  the  second  and  third 
parts  of  the  Instauratio  Magna,  viz.:  the  De  Augmentis  and  the  Novum 
Organum,  wliich  unfold  the  whole  design  of  his  philosophy,  and  constitute  the 
only  portion  of  his  works  that  is  mucli  read.  The  treatise  on  the  "  Advance- 
ment of  Learning"  is  reprinted  from  Shaw's  translation  with  revisions:  the 
"  Novum  Organum  "  is  given  trom  Wood's  revision,  the  best  extant.  Supple- 
mentary and  exjilanatory  notes  are  given  from  yarious  authors,  so  that  this 
edition  is  the  best,  by  far,  for  general  use,  that  has  yet  appeared.  All  the 
books  published  in  series  by  Mr.  Bohn  are  kept  on  sale  by  Bangs,  Brother, 
&  Co.,  13  Bark  Row,  New- York. 


(41.)  "  The  Works  of  James  Arminius,  D.  D,  formerly  Profei^sor  of  Divinittj 
in  the  University  of  Lcyden,  trandalcd  from  the  Latin,  edited  by  the  Rev.  W. 
R.  B.\GN-.vi.i.,  A.  M."  (Auburn:  Derby,  Miller  &  Co.,  1S53  ;  3  vols.,  8vo.) 
The  first  two  volumes  of  this  translation  are  taken  from  the  edition  of  James 
Nichols,  published  in  London  in  1825  and  1828 ;  but  that  edition  embraced  not 


1853.]  Short  Reviews  and  Notices  of  Boolis.  473 

quite  two-thirds  of  the  works  of  Anninlus,  and  Mr.  Bagnall  has  translated  all 
the  remainder.  He  has  ako  revised  Nichols's  translation,  eorrccting  it  when 
necessary.  The  present  edition,  then,  contains  all  the  theological  writings  of 
Arminius,  the  publication  of  which  was  ever  sanctioned  by  himself  or  his 
friends.  We  cannot  express  too  strongly  our  sense  of  the  obligation  under 
which  the  translator  and  the  publishers  have  laid  the  theological  public.  The 
name  of  Arminius  is  oftener  mentioned,  in  terms  of  praise  or  of  reproach,  than 
that  of  any  other  theologian  except,  p4-;rhaps,  Calvin ;  yet  his  writlnrrs  have 
been,  for  the  most  part,  a  sealed  book,  not  merely  to  the  laity,  but  to  the 
majority  of  ministers.  The  original  editions  of  his  works  are  both  scarce  and 
dear;  while  Nichols's  version,  imperfect  as  it  was,  has  been  long  out  of  the 
market  There  can  be  no  doubt,  we  think,  of  the  success  of  this  edition,  even 
as  a  commercial  speculation.  It  is  got  up  in  a  very  commodious  form,  is  hand- 
somely printed,  and  sold  very  cheap. 

As  for  the  translation,  we  cannot  speak  of  it  decidedly  at  present,  as  we 
have  not  compared  either  Mr.  Nichols's  version  or  Mr.  Bagnall's  with  the  orlfnnal. 
It  reads  well,  however,  and  has  that  air  of  likeness  which  a  good  translation 
ahvays  carries  on  its  face.  ISIr.  BagnaU's  style  appears  to  be  much  more  easv 
than  Nichols's.  He  speaks  of  his  mode  of  translating  and  editing  the  work  in 
his  preface  as  follows : — 

"In  the  part  now,  for  the  first  time,  publi~heil  in  the  English  language,  the 
object  has  been  to  present,  with  clearness  and  accuracy,  the  ideas  of  Arniiuius, 
and  the  original  has  been  adhered  to  as  cIosl-I y  as  pn.ssihle,  a  nearly  literal  trans- 
lation hcing  often  preferred  to  one  ailorncd  with  groiucr  dogance  of  style.  Li  both 
parts  of  the  work,  a  word  or  phrase  from  the  ori<jin:il  has  been  frequently  inserted, 
when  it  has  been  found  diflicult  to  convey  in  tho  Knglish  rendering  the  precise 
shade  of  meaning.  It  has  also  been  thought  expvdiont  to  insert  a  few  brief  notes, 
some  of  them  preparatory  to  the  ditlerent  trcutisos,  and  others  subjoined  to  the 
text  as  references,  or  needed  explanations.  More  numerous  and  more  extended 
observations  might  have  been  interesting  and  valuable,  but  the  limits,  which  it 
was  judged  best  to  prescribe  to  the  work,  have  i>reventcd  their  insertion.  A 
short  sketch  of  the  life  of  Arminius.  du:dgned  only  to  elucidate  some  of  the  prin- 
cipal facts  and  events  of  his  history,  is  prefixed  to  the  translation." 

We  regret  to  be  compcdled  to  add  that  the  book  is  disfigured  to  a  painful 
extent  by  tyix)graphlcal  blunders.  The  editor's  distance  from  the  place  of 
publication  is  assigned  as  an  excuse  for  this,  but  it  is  insuthclont.  The  pub- 
lishers should  have  employed  some  eomijetent  jicr-son  on  the  spot  to  secure  cor- 
rectness in  the  printing  of  so  great  a  woi-k.  Tiie  Greek  citations  throughout 
the  work  have  neither  breathings  nor  acccntci.  What  Is  most  marvellous  of  all 
is  the  fact  that  there  is  no  index— a.  defulcucy  entirely  inexcusable  In  a  work 
of  this  class,  designed  to  be  coinphle,  and  to  occupy  the  ])lace  of  a  standard 
book  in  theological  libraries. 

We  speak  plainly  of  these  things,  as  beconu^s  us.  It  is  high  time  that  ffrea! 
books  were  as  carefully  prepared  and  printed  in  America  as  In  Europe.  It  Is 
due  to  the  purchasers  of  such  books,  who  intend,  in  buying  them,  to  use  them 
for  study  or  reference,  that  all  the  necessary  apparatus  should  be  furnished 
with  them.  At  the  same  time,  we  express  our  thanks  both  to  publisher  and 
editor  for  this  new  edition  of  Arunnlus,  arid  hope  it  will  be  so  widely  sold  that 
another  will  be  called  for  in  which  tli.:  defects  on  which  we  have  animadverted 
may  be  remedied. 

Fourth  Series.  Vol.  V.— 30 


474  Short  Revieivs  cmd  Notices  of  BooJis.  [July, 

(42.)  Mr.  Stroxg's  "Harmony  and  Exposition  of  the  Gospels"  has  met  with 
great  and  deserved  success.  AVe  are  now  glad  to  chronicle  the  appearance 
of  an  abridgment  of  the  larjc  work  under  the  title  of  ".-1  Manual  of  the 
Gospels,  for  the  Use  of  Suiulaii  i^rhools,  Bible  Classes,  and  Families,  by  James 
Strong,  A.M."  (New-York:  Carlton  &  Phillips;  1853;  16mo.,  pp.  470.) 
It  contains  the  leading  text,  or  Harmony,  from  the  larger  work,  printed  on 
the  left-hand  page,  with  the  Expo.-^itioii,  somewhat  condensed,  on  the  -right. 
Tlie  Exposition  is  a  marked  feature  of  the  work,  and  in  some  respects  its 
most  valuable  one.  Its  purpose  is  well  stated  in  the  Editor's  preface  as  fol- 
lows : — 

"To  prevent  all  nusconceptinii  of  its  design,  therefore,  we  wish  here  to  str.tc 
distinctly,  that  it  is  intended  merely  as  a  concise  comjientary,  and  in  no  sense  as 
a  rival  translation  for  poimlar  or  any  other  use.  On  this  account,  different  terms 
and  phrases  from  those  emjiluycd  in  the  common  version  have  generally  been 
purposely  used,  for  the  sake  of  more  accurate  explanation  or  greater  vividness 
by  the  variety,— just  as  the  defmitions  in  a  dictionary  avoid  the  use  of  the  word 
to  be  defined,  and  employ  oihers  instead,  as  nearly  synonymous  as  possible. 
Neither  must  this  be  su[iiiosed  to  be  a  paraphrase  of  the  text;  on  the  contrary, 
it  is  meant  to  keep  closely  to  tlie  tenor  of  the  original  language,  and  to  copy  its 
very  phraseology, — with  merely  such  a  latitude  in  terms  as  is  necessary  tocon- 
vey  its  meaning  to  the  Tuo<lern  reader.  Wherever  the  explanation  requires  an 
expansion  or  illustration,  it  is  distiuguished  as  such  by  the  use  of  brackets  [  ], 
both  for  the  sake  of  brevity  and  to  avoid  the  inconvenience  of  notes  at  the  foot 
of  the  page. 

"  Some  may  think  that  a  popular  commentary,  in  the  usual  form  of  annota- 
tions, would  have  been  more  satisfactory ;  the  task  would  certainly  have  been 
easier  in  many  respects.  To  have  adopted  such  a  form,  however,  would  have 
been  to  destr(^-.ilie  two  chief  featurt.^  of  this  work,  m<on  which  the  usefulness  of 
its  plan  must  mainly  d.-pon'!,  nam.dy.  its  compact  form  and  its  continuous  arrange- 
ment :  regidar  "  not-s  "  ■vvrndd  not  only  have  occupied  much  greater  space,  and 
have  presented  tlie  i'leas  in  a  more  diluted  and  far  less  terse  and  picturesque 
manner,  but  they  would  also  IiavL-  broken  up  the  train  of  thought  into  detached 
paragraphs  of  explanation,  and  compelled  the  reader  to  refer  continually  to  the 
text,  in  order  to  keep  to  the  thread  of  the  discourse.  A  commentary  in  such  a 
form  can  never  be  made  an  interesting  reading-book,  at  least  for  youth  ;  and 
even  for  purposes  of  con-^ultation,  it  is  apt  to  enlarge  unduly  upon  one  part  of 
the  text,  and  leave  other  points  untouched. 

"For  those  reasons,  a-*  the  Author  in  substance  states  in  the  Preface  to  his 
larger  work,  ho  has  piirsue.l  a  liKhrent  method  in  this  Exposition  ;  and  it  is  for 
these  reasons  that  we  iiave  adopted  it  for  the  present  purpose.  Yet  no  one  who 
has  tried  his  hand  at  such  an  effort  will  suppose  that  the  labour  of  elucidating 
the  meaning  of  the  sacred  text  has  thereby  been  lightened;  on  the  contrary,  it 
has  been  much  increased.  On  the  present  plan,  how  to  convey  the  requisite 
explanation  in  the  prescribed  compass,  and  yet  have  the  whole  read  smoothly, 
must  have  been  continually  a  matter  of  the  greatest  difhculty,  and  one  that 
required  the  most  careful  management.  It  was  impossible  to 'exhibit  the  jinv 
cess  by  which  conclusions  were  reached,  and  yet  the  results  were  to  be  so  stated 
that  the  reasons  should  spontaiic.usly  occur  to  the  reader.  Superadded  to  this 
was  tlie  neces.-ity  of  adhering  to  the  turn  of  thought,  and  even  to  the  style  of  lan- 
guage, as  found  in  tlie  original  of  the  text;  and  at  the  same  time,  of  so  eluci'lat- 
ing  both  these  as  to  show,  in  one  .sentence,  what  the  text  says,  and  what  it  riicnns, 
as  well  as  the  connexion  between  the  phraseology  and  the  sense.  All  these 
steps  might  easily  have  been  drawn  out  in  notes,  winle  they  were  present  to  the 
mind;  but  on  the  contrary,  a  sitigle  cx}iression  only  could  be  given,  to  evubody 
and  vindicate  the  results  of  tedious  stmiy  and  consi'leration.  And  even  this 
expression  had  to  be  so  wonlcd  as  to  ilistinguisli,  on  its  very  face,  the  explana- 
tory from  the  oriirinal  matter.  Nor  was  any  allusion  to  the  Greek  words  of  the 
text  admissible,  in  order  to  develop  the  meaning  silently  assigned  to  them ;  nor 


1853.]  Short  Reviews  and  Notices  of  Books.  475 

any  discussion  of  conflicting  opinions  allowable:  but  one  sense  could  be  given, 
and  that  must  be  promptly  and  unequivocally  stated,  and  then  be  left  to  the 
candour  of  the  reader,  to  accept  or  reject  as  the  general  bearing  of  the  context 
might  -warrant.  These  were  some  of  the  cmbarnissmonts  of  the  present  under- 
taking ;  and  the}*  are  here  only  referred  to  for  the  purpose  of  explaining  certain 
peculiarities  in  its  execution,  tliat  might  not  otherwise  be  understood.  The  ver- 
sion of  the  poetical  jtarts  of  the  tvxt  was  jiartieularly  beset  with  difficulties,  not 
so  much  arising  from  the  restraints  iiupo.^ed  by  the  laws  of  metre,  as  from  the 
peculiar  manner  in  which  the  New  Testament  writers  quote  passages  from  the 
Old  Testament — these  being  also  generally  passages  of  great  scope  of  meaning 
and  highly  rhetorical  structure." 

The  Notes  and  Dissertations  arc  ouiitteil  as  unnccessarv  for  the  purposes  of 
this  abridgment.  In  its  present  fonn.  taken  in  connexion  with  the  author's 
"  Question  Book,"  the  work  is  admirably  adapted  to  use  in  schools  and  Bible 
classes,  as  well  as  for  family  Instruction.  Like  all  tlic  recent  issues  from  the 
Methodist  Book  Concern,  it  is  beautifully  printed  and  bound. 


(43.)  "  Lic<;s  of  the  Brothers  Ilumhohlt,  Ale.mwkr  and  William."  (New- York  : 
Harper  &  Brothers,  18.5.3;  r2uio.,  pp.  .'iO.H.)  The  memoir  of  Alexander  von 
Humboldt,  given  in  this  volume,  Is  from  the  German  of  Klencko;  that  of  Wil- 
liam is  by  Sehlesier ;  and  botli  are  translated  by  Juliette  Bauer.  How  faith- 
ful the  version  is  we  cannot  say,  as  we  Iiave  not  seen  the  originals  ;  but  it  lacks 
ease  and  naturalness.  The  substance  of  the  volume  will  be  found  to  possess 
the  deepest  interest.  Alexander  von  Humlioldt,  still  living — and  in  his  eighty- 
fifth  year  still  working  unweariedly  from  day  to  day — has  reached  the  highest 
summit  of  scientific  lame  gained  by  any  man  of  his  generation.  Uniting  the 
attainments  of  a  whole  academy  in  him>.Il'.  lie  adds  to  his  vast  intellectual 
v,eahh  the  highest  capacity  of  using  It,  witli  tliC  happy  usury  of  learning,  at 
once  to  enlarge  his  own  stores  and  to  shnwt-r  t!ii-m  njon  his  ftllow-men.  The 
quick  enthusiasm  of  his  genius  has  Ins[>Iri:d  ahnost  every  branch  of  natural 
science  into  new  activity,  and  fertilized  many  a  barren  tract  into  a  fruit-bear- 
ing soil.  His  brother  AVIlliam  jjos'^essed,  perhaps,  equally  great  original 
powers  :  it  is  only  because  his  line  of  study  and  research  has  been  more  remote 
from  flic  ordinary  walks  and  needs  of  men  that  his  fame  has  not  rivalled  his 
brother's.  Their  example,  as  given  in  this  book,  cannot  fail  to  stimulate  the 
energies  of  everv  student  who  shall  read  it. 


(44.)  *"  A  Treatiie  on  Biblical  Crltlci.^m,  csKlhliing  a  Systematic  View  of  that 
Science,hy  Samuel  Davii>sox,D.  D."  (2  vols.,  8vo.;  Edinburgh:  A.  &  C. 
Black,  1852.)  A  work  on  this  topic— or  rather  series  of  topics— was  issued  by 
the  same  author  in  1830.  On  attempting  its  revision  he  found  that  not  merely 
a  new  edition,  but  a  new  book,  was  needed.  Tiie  science  had  advanced  rajtldly 
in  thirteen  years,  and  the  author's  knowlfdge  of  It  had  grown  still  more  rapidly  ; 
so  that  when  ho  came  to  retouch  his  pages,  ''everything  had  to  be  rewritten 
and  put  into  a  new  shape."  And,  he  tells  us,  "  it  will  not  surprise  any,  except 
the  verv  ignorant,  to  be  told  tliat  various  opinions  fonnerly  hold  by  the  author 
have  been  abandoned."  The  first  volume  gives  the  literary  history  of  the 
Old  Testament :  the  second  that  of  the  New.     Dr.  Davidson  has,  in  this  work, 


476  Short  Reviews  and  Notices  of  Books.  [Julv, 

as  in  his  "  Introduction  to  the  New  Te>'tamont,"  sho^^T^  the  most  unwearied 
diligence  in  collecting  and  arranging  materials,  and  in  bringing  down  his  state- 
ments to  the  latest  scientific  knowledge  ;  but  he  fails  in  both  works  to  condense 
his  matter  well  and  to  select  his  points  aptly.  Of  all  these  things  we  shall 
speak  more  at  length  in  an  article  now  in  preparation  for  our  next  number. 


(45.)  We  noticed  some  time  since  the  new  ^^  Catechism  of  the  Methodist  Epis- 
copal Church,  Xo.  1,"  (New- York:  Carlton  &  Phillips,)  and  urged  upon  our 
readers,  both  clerical  and  lay,  the  vast  importance  of  the  work,  and  the  duty 
of  the  Church  with  regard  to  its  introduction  and  use.  "We  have  now  before 
us  the  second  and  third  numbers  of  the  Catechism,  completing  the  series.  The 
great  peculiarity  and  excellence  of  this  series  lie  in  the  fact  that  it  does  not 
consist  of  three  sci>aKitc  catechisms,  but  of  o»e,  in  three  stages  of  development, 
the  language  of  the  l)asls  being  unchanged  in  the  different  numbers  of  the 
series.  No.  1  is  the  Catcdiism  ;  No.  2  is  the  same,  with  the  addition  of  numer- 
ous Scripture  j)roofs  and  illu.--trations  })rlnted  side  by  side  with  the  several 
questions  and  answers.  After  the  scholar  has  learned  by  heart  the  answers  to 
the  questions  in  No.  1,  so  as  to  repeat  them  verbatim,  he  should  proceed  to 
commit  to  memory,  ju.-<t  as  carefully,  the  Scripture  proofs  of  the  several  an- 
swers as  furnished  in  No.  "2.  No  time  or  trouble  should  be  spared  in  thor- 
oughly securing  this  most  imi)ortant  object  of  catechetical  instruction.  The 
boy  or  girl  wlio  has  the  answei-s  and  their  proofs  fixed  firmly  in  his  or  her 
memory  will  not  be  apt,  in  after  life,  to  be  "  blown  about  by  every  wind  of  doc- 
trine." The  aim  of  Cateclur^m  No.  3  is  to  expand  the  answers  of  No.  1  and 
the  proofs  of  No.  "2  into  something  like  a  system  of  Christian  doctrine  in  a  con- 
densed form.  The  Catcdsl-m  proper  is  taken  up  section  by  section,  and  a 
summary  is  given,  in  comprehensive'  language,  of  the  subject-matter  of  each 
section.  Then  follow  an  analysis  of  the  section,  a  number  of  explanatory  and 
practical  questions,  and  a  set  of  definitions : — ■ 

"  Some  of  the  questions  relate  to  the  theory,  and  some  to  the  practice,  of  relig- 
ion; some  of  them  arc  found  in  other  Catechisms,  and  some  arc  new.  None 
have  been  inserted  for  tlie  s.ike  of  extending  the  work,  and  none  that  have  been 
deemed  essential  to  the  pr.u-tical  objects  ofli  Catechism  have  been  omitted.  It 
is  hoped  that  tliey  will  i;ll  be  systematically  and  thoroughly  learned  in  their 
proper  order.  M:iny  of  them  will  doubtless  be  suggestive  of  other  questions, 
which  an  intelligent  and  judicious  teacher  can  verbally  supply. 

"The  study  of  this  Ciitechism  will  not  be  completo'd  until  the  learner  shall 
have  prepared  himself  to  give  concise  and  pertinent  definitions  to  all  the  import- 
ant terms  used. 

"Definitions  of  the  more  prominent  and  difficult  terms  have  been  appended  to 
the  several  sections.  It  shouM  be  observed  that  these  definitions  are  not  intended 
to  supply  the  place  of  a  dictiouary,  but  simply  to  give  a  concise  and  clear  expla- 
nation of  the  words  as  used  in  the  positions  to  which  reference  is  made.  Hence 
there  has  been  no  attempt  to  reduce  words  to  their  original  form;  on  the  other 
hand,  words  of  every  form,  whether  noun,  verb,  participle,  adjective,  or  adverb, 
arc  defined  as  they  occur. 

"It  is  very  imjiortant  for  Biblical  students  and  teachers  to  accustom  them- 
selves to  define  words  clearly  and  proinrly.  Continued  practice  will  cause  the 
habit  to  become  pleasant  as  well  as  useful. 

"The  design  of  this  Catechism  throughout,  is  not  only  to  exercise  the  memory, 
but  to  discipline  the  mind,  to  enlighten  the  understanding,  and  to  improve  the 


1853.]  Religious  and  Literary  Intelligence.  477 

heart.  In  its  preparation,  constant  reference  has  been  made  to  the  elaborate 
catechetical  works  of  former  times,  -n-ith  the  intention  of  copying  their  excel- 
lences and  improving  upon  their  construction  and  phraseology."— Pp.  4,  o. 

We  concur  most  cordially  in  tlio  wish  expressed  by  the  editor,  that  "  the 
study  of  this  manual  of  Christian  truth  may  become  universal  in  our  Sunday 
schools  and  in  our  fomilios,  and  that  the  day  will  soon  come  when  no  person 
among  us  of  sufficient  age  will  be  found  ignorant  of  its  contents,  or  unable  to 
give  a  reason  of  the  hope  that  is  in  him." 


(46.)  Of  the  following  pamphlets,  &c.,  we  can  give  nothing  but  the  titles  :— 

Twelfth  Annual  CaUalogue  of  tlic  rrovidence  Conference  Seminary,  East 
Greenwich,  R  I. 

Annual  Report  of  the  Trustees  and  Superintendent  of  the  Pennsylvania 
State  Lunatic  Hospital,  at  IIarnsbur<;li,  for  the  year  1852. 

Tenth  Annual  Eeport  of  the  ^Managers  of  the  State  Lunatic  Asylum  of 
New- York. 

American  Tsychologlcal  Journal,  vol.  i,  conducted  by  Edward  Mead,  M.  D. 

Report  of  the  ]MajorIty  of  the  Counnlssioners  appointed  to  examine  the 
aftairs  of  Union  College.     Trausmht.Hl  to  the  Legislature  March  4,  1853. 

The  American  and  Foreign  Christian  Union,  1853. 

Miiiutes  of  the  Seventeenth  Session  of  tlie  New-Jersey  Annual  Conference 
of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  held  at  Rridgeton,  April  13-20,  1853. 

Common  Schools  Unsectaiian.  A  Discourse  delivered  in  the  Methodist 
Episcopal  Church  at  Ann  Arbor,  Michigan,  ^March  6,  1853,  by  E.  O.  Haven. 


Art.  XI.— religious  AND  LITERARY  IS'TELLIGENCE, 

21^  1) c 0 1 0 g  i c a  I    aw'b   U  c  1  i g  i o u s . 

EUROPEAN. 

"Die   OhrlstUclie  Kirchc  dcr  dni  e  r*f- u  riiil.  et  Tlicol.  Doctore."    (Leipsis  :  1853  • 

JahrhimdeHe :    Vorlcsuiujcn    vo>i   Dr.   K.   It.  royal  Svo.)     This  part  contains  320  pages' 

Haoexbach,  Trof.  der  Theologie  in  l!.i?il."  aii.l  carri.-s  the  Lexicon  down  to  the  \ix)ra 

(T-eipsii,':  1853;   Svo.,  pp.  341'.)      The  fir^t  fiarau'iiipuv. 

three  of  these  lectures  treat  of  the  state  nr  ■  i    •  n       ••  m. 

of  the  heathen  and  Jewish  world  iuinie-  ^  . '""'V".'   ^'7'"  2/,c«n,ru«  Philologies 


diately  before  and  at  the  time  of  Christ's 


Critinu  LingiKjellcbr'XtEet  Ckaldaxe  \\t.  Ten- 


advent;  the  fourth  lecture  exhibits  the  ''.""',"''•  ,  ^l""  ^^^^^  received  the  last  fas- 
wiciangdical  narrative  of  Christ's  birth  uud  '''"■""'"^  "".^  the  third  volume  of  this  ijreat 
life;  the  three  following  treat  of  the  ^J.'^rk— the  crf:^,.,  altn-n  secundum  n.dices 
foundation  of  the  Church  and  of  its  hi.-  '^"J-'''^'  pnore  a.rmanua  lonye  auctior  et 
tory  in  the  apostolic  times ;  and  the  ro-  :™''''\—'''^'^'','^  ^^  Roediger.  (Lips. : 
mainder  of  the  work  brin-s  down  the  \'.  j.^  \ogel,  4to.)  The  work  is  corn- 
record  to  the  end  of  the  third  century.  It  l''^"''''^'  '"  ^•''"  'l^'^'-^o  P^ges. 
is  well  worthy  the  attention  of  theohigital  "  Pro  C*'i/i/.sw,"<,ii!"«  K'-li'iioite  adcrnni.'i  C'mi- 
Btudents.  /-'"ioni'm  Thro/ngu,m,>,rnpsit  C.G.O.  Thri/c, 


"We  have  received  I'art  I.  of  "Clmi/i  Li-  Theol.  in  Univ.  I,ips.  Prof.  (Ripsiir  :  1R.">_  , 
hronim  Vcierii  J'l xtaiiuuli  Ajjovr^j/Jiornm  8vo.,  pp.  ItC.)  The  object  of  this  tractate 
Philologies,   aiicture    CiiiasT.  AiiF..   Waiif.,      is  to  show  thit  ntigiun  and  thcohgy  arc 


478 


Religious  and  Literary  Intelligence. 


[July, 


entirely  distinct,  and,  if  possible,  to  adjust 
rightly  the  limits  of  each. 

The  Church  of  England  is  constantly 
affording  illustrations  of  the  iucvitnlile 
tendency  of  national  Church  establish- 
ments to  con'uption  and  peculation.  By 
the  Cth  and  7th  ■\Villiam  IV.,  chapter  77, 
(183G,)  certain  amounts  of  income  were 
assigned  to  the  ditiVrent  sees  of  En^'land 
and  Wales — viz..  £1.">,(h.)0  to  CaiitLTliury, 
£10,000  to  York  and  Loiidun,  £s,onO  to 
Durham,  £3,500  to  Ely,  £3,(>iiO  to  S.ilis- 
Lury,  Worcester,  and  others,  and  £4.l?uO 
to  St.  Asaph.  Accordingly,  returns  of  tLeir 
revenues  were  called  for  from  the  then  iu- 
cumhents  of  the  different  .-^ees,  and  calcu- 
lations made  thereupon  to  determine  the 
yearly  sums  payable  to  the  conimissi'm  by 
the  archbishops  and  bishops  consifcrated  or 
translated  since  January  1,  1!?;]0,  so  as  to 
leave  them  respectively  the  income  con- 
templated by  the  legislature.  Tor  exam- 
ple, the  annual  charge  thus  tixcd  upon  for 
the  Bishop  of  Durham  >v_us  £11.200,  the 
commissioners  having  been  led  by  his  lord- 
ship's representations  to  believe  that  the 
average  annual  income  of  the  see  would 
be  £19,200.  In  fact,  the  estimated  future 
net  income  of  Durham  was,  in  1^3.5,  cal- 
culated at  £17,S90  only.  Well,  the  bidiop 
has  so  managed  the  estates  that,  from 
1837  to  ISJO,  his  net  annual  income  has 
varied  from  £l(J,J:iO  0«.  lb/,  to  £04,707 
12».  lOcL,  and  made  a  t'^tal  nf  more  than 
£342,000,  instead  of  £2i>.r«)();  so  that 
this  self-denying  prelate  ..f  the  north  has 
had  £74,000  more  than  \>hat  the  legisla- 
ture intended  1 

The  first  two  volumes  of  Smith's  "  Sa- 
cred Annalu,"  (published  under  the  titles 
of  the  "  Patriarchal  Age"'  and  the  "  He- 
brew People,"  by  Messrs.  Carlton  it  Phil- 
lips, 200  Mulbcrry-st.,  Ne«.Vork.)  have 
met  with  a  very  favourable  reception  in 
this  country.  'ITie  third  vuhime  is  an- 
nounced in  London  as  in  preparaUun,  un- 
der the  title  of  "  Thf  IJiiton/  awl  lidijlon 
of  the  Gtntile  yitti(jna  that  tare  placl  iit 
Pi-ox'tmitt/  to  tl.fjitciih  I'lojile  :  Containing 
a  Succinct  Account  of  the  Egyjitians,  .\s- 
syrians,  Babylonians,  Medes.  Persians, 
Greeks,  and  liomans  ;  carefully  collected 
from  Ancient  .^uthiirs  and  Holy  Scripture, 
■with  the  best  aid  ali'ordod  by  ilecent  Dis- 
coveries in  Egyptian  and  Assyrian  Inserij)- 
tions.  Being  tiie  Third  <ind  ciir'ndiuff 
Sehies  of  Sarrrd  Aiiunls ;  i>ith  Indexes 
and  Tables  adapted  to  the  whole  work: 
and  forming  a  complete  connexion  of  the 
Sacred  and  Pn.fane  History,  also  a  full 
Elucidation  of  the  Fulfilment  of  Sacred 
Prophecy.     By  GEoHyK  Smith,  F.  A.  S." 


Mr..  Blackader  (13  Paternoster  Row, 
London)  is  publishing  in  monthly  parts  a 
new  edition  of  the  '•  Authorized  Version  of 
the  Bible."  This  edition  is  framed  on  the 
model  of  the  Chronological  Xew  Testament, 
favourably  noticed  in  this  journal  last 
j-ear,  under  the  conviction  "  that  some- 
thing could  bo  done  to  make  our  invalua- 
ble English  Version  more  intelligible  to 
devout  students  of  the  Word  of  God,  by 
some  little  helps  in  arrangement  and 
printing."  These  helps  were  as  follows  : — 
L  The  Text  was  newly  divided  into  Para- 
graphs and  Sections  ;  11.  Dates  and  Places 
/of  transactions  were  marked;  III.  The 
Translators'  Marginal  Ileuderinss  were 
given;  IV.  The  Parallel  Illustrative  Pas- 
sages were  quoted  at  length ;  V.  (Quota- 
tions from  the  Old  Testament  were  printed 
in  capitals.  In  the  present  edition  these 
improvements  have  been  more  completelv 
carried  out.  And,  in  addition,  the  fullow- 
ing  have  been  attempted  to  be  given  : — 
I.  The  most  LnpoHant  Variations  of  the  V'l-- 
»iOH»,  viz. :  the  Chaldee  Paraphrases,  Sa- 
maritau,  Septuagint,  Syriac,  Vulgate,  Ara- 
bic, Persic,  and  Ethiopic.  IL  Critical  Xu-:-,- 
from  the.  best  sources,  Continental  and  British. 
The  object  has  been  to  explain  as  clearly 
and  thoroughly  as  possible  all  difficult  ]ia'- 
sages,  and  thus  to  put  the  English  reader 
in  possession  of  those  helps  which  modern 
research  and  scholarship  have  produced. 
III.  Elucidations  from  Modern  Liscovria 
and  Travels.  Great  attention  has  been 
paid  to  the  Geography  and  History  of  the 
Bible  ;  and  the  best  and  most  recent  sources 
of  information  have  been  consulted — all 
which  sources  are  carefully  given. 

Pi'.opoSALS  have  been  issued  (by  Jackson 
and  Walford,  IS  St.  Paul's  Church-yard. 
London)  for  the  publication,  by  subscrip- 
tion, of  "  First  Lines  of  Christian  Theu'oji/, 
in  the  form  of  a  Syllabus,  prepared  for  the 
use  of  the  Students  in  the  Academy  at 
Ilomerton  ;  with  large  additions  and  elu- 
cidations bv  the  author,  the  late  JmUX 
Pye  S.Hrru,'D.  D.,  LL.  D.,  F.  R.  S..  Fifty 
Years  Tutor  of  Homerton  College ;  edited 
from  the  original  manuscripts,  with  some 
additional  notes  and  references,  and  co- 
pious indexes,  by  William  Farrer,  LL.  B., 
Secretary  and  Librarian  of  Xew  College, 
London."  The  work  will  appear  in  one 
large  volume,  8vo.,  price  twelve  shillings 
(sterling).  For  more  than  thirty  years 
before  his  death,  l>i-.  Smith  adopted'  the 
method  of  oral  lecturing  upon  the  Sylla- 
bus, which  he  was  thus  led  to  enrich  with 
a  body  of  the  most  valuable  additions,  ex- 
pansions, and  annotations.  A  consider- 
able portion  of  the  work  was  completely 


1853.] 


Theological  and  Rcl 


isrioiis. 


479 


re-written.  The  volume,  therefore,  con- 
tains ample,  though  condensed,  discus- 
sions of  the  topics  which  might  be 
expectf d  to  occur  in  such  a  -work. 

The  Catholic  controversy  wtixes  bottor 
in  EnjlaTul.  Now  books,  pamphlet*:,  mid 
jonruals  are  daily  phenomena.  One  of  the 
most  succesfful  of  the  latter  is  "  Thr 
Buhcark,  or  ll'ifonnni ion  Journal,"  edited 
by  Eev.  Dr.  Cunningham,  Princij'al  of  tlic 
New  College,  Edinburgh,  which  has  en- 
tered upon  its  second  year  with  a  siil>- 
scription  list  of  thirty  thousand. 

The  first  two  volumes  of  Clark's  "  T!:.-<^>- 
logical  Lrorary"  for  1853,  were  announced 
for  pnbli(;ation  in  May,  namely,  MulKr  on 
the  Christian  Doctrine  of  Sin,  Vol.  II,  and 
Gieseler's  Ecclesiastical  History,  Vol.  lU. 
Thirty  volumes  of  the  series  have  \hn\- 
Leen  issued ;  forming  a  most  valuable 
collection  of  theological  and  Biblical  liter- 
ature. 

The  third  and  concluding  part  of  that 
most  timely  and  valuable  little  baok, 
"  The  Reatoratioii  of  Belief,"  is  just  an- 
nounced in  London.  It  treats  of  the 
Miracles  of  the  Gospels  consi.lcri-d  iu 
their  relation  to  the  principal  features  of 
the  Christian  Scheme. 

The  Th^O'O'jt-sche  Stitdicn  wirl  KriUk-nior 
April,  lS-33.  contains  the  foUowin-  arti- 
cles : — 1.  On  the  position  of  the  apj-rryphil 
books  of  the  Old  Testament  in  tlio  t  hri=- 
tian  canon,  by  r>r.  lileek  ;  1'.  On  the  i-nvy 
tation  of  Chri-t,  by  F.  W.  Eauf.s  ;  '•.  .V:i 
apology  for  Heathenism  and  attack  on 
Christianity,  (a  curious  article,  written  by 
the  Brahmin  Mora  IShatta  Dandekar.i,  and 
translated  into  English  by  Wilson,  in 
Bomb.av,  1S3-'  ;)  3.-  Systematic  and 
Practical  Theology,  by  Dr.  Kicnbn,  la 
brief  paper  lixing  the  logical  position  of 
apologetics  and  polemics  in  the  eirele  of 
theological  science;)  4.  -A.  Kovie-.v  of  the 
second  part  of  Hasse's  Aaselm  of  Cauter- 
burv,  by  Klinij;  5.  A  Review  of  Dittniar's 
"GeschichtederWelt  vor  und  nich  Ciiri-- 
tus,"  by  Kayser;  C.  On  the  etleet  uf  the 
plans  of  Church-order  by  Bugeiiln..  u.  in 
the  development  of  the  German  t  lunch 
and  culture,  by  C.  F.  J'ager,  of  Tubiii^t  ii  ; 
7.  Programme  of  the  Hague  .Soei,»y  f.T 
the  defence  of  the  Christian  religion,  f^r 
1S52. 

Ik  1S4:1  Professor  Hasse,  of  I'-'tin, 
published  the  first  volume  of  his  "  .1">''"i 
von  Caiittrbnn/."  containing  the  life  "f 
Anselm.  Foflowing  literally  the  Iloratian 
rule  n'-ni'«i  prematur  inauuitm,  he  has  ju<it 
issued  the  second  volume,  eioitaiuing  /a- 
Lehre  An^cltnt,  (Leipzig,  1852,  pp.  CtUI.) 


■which  is  characterized  by  Dr.  Kliug,  in 
the  Studicu  und  Kritiken,  as  a  fii-r/fLa  ef 
uei  ;  eoiiibining  a  most  thorough  search 
into  the  sources,  with  a  clear  and  sound 
historical  knowledge  and  judgment,  and  a 
just  and  adequate  api)reciation  of  An- 
selm's  theology.  It  is  an  indispensable 
book  to  all  engaged  in  such  studies. 

Wi:  ha\e  received  (but  have  not 
had  time  to  examine  thoroughly)  "  Ba-s 
IL,h-Ued  Salomonis  aumjcle^t  von  E.  Vt'. 
Il,_,i<j-t.nh,-rg"  (The  Song  of  Solomon,  in- 
terj)reted  by  IVofessor  Heugstenberg, 
Berlin,  1S.j3,'Svo.  ;  pp.  2G4,)  which,  besides 
the  exposition,  contains  four  supplemen- 
t.iry  dissertations: — 1.  On  the  unity  of 
tlie  Sung;  2.  Ou  its  author;  3.  On  its 
historieiil  starting-point ;  and  4.  On  the 
two  metliods  of  interpreting  it— the  literal 
and  the  siiiritual.  ^Ve  have  also  received 
tile  :irst  part  of  the  second  and  enlarged 
e<iitinu  of  "Die  Gc>ichickte  clvr  flcilijen 
SMinj'trn  Xriu-n  Testaments,  von  F.Dw.iRD 
Br.L>^"     (Brannschweig :  1853;  Svo.,  pp. 

TUE  "  Tliirtecnth  Annual  Report  of  the 
]\'i!i ytn  Committee  of  Education,"  (Lon- 
don: l's53;  8vo.,  pp.  191,)is  a  forniidahle 
document,  indicative  of  the  weight  of  its 
ccMitents.  It  furnishes  abundant  proof  of 
the  \itality  of  Wesleyan  Methodism,  that 
it  cau  carry  on  so  vast  a  system  of  public 
instruiuiun  as  that  detailed  in  this  report, 
diiriii'.'  the  very  heat  and  pressure  of  the 
di^turl.anei's  which  have  of  late  years 
.a_-it  it'd  the  connexion.  Still  more  sig- 
niticaut  is  a  recent  movement  fir  the  es- 
t.iblishment  of  a  "  Connexiomtl  Jleli-'f  and 
E-rtrniion  Fund,"  on  that  grand  scale  of 
oiK.Tatii.n  which  Methodism  seems  to  de- 
light in,  both  in  Kngl.ind  ami  America. 
At  11  meeting  of  Wesleyan  ministers  and 
>;entlenii'n  from  various  parts  of  the  king- 
djni,  a.-5embled  at  the  Centenary  Hall. 
Bi'-h.ipsg.ite-street,  London,  April  22d  and 
2,;d,  the  Bev.  John  Scott,  President  of  the 
f..nferenee,  in  the  chair,  it  was  wnani- 
nu.u-ly  n-reed  that  measures  should  forth- 
v. itii  bo  taken  to  raise  by  subscription  a 
Coiim-xional  Belief  and  Extension  Fund, 
to  be  devoted,  under  the  direction  of  a 
.-peeial  eonmiittee,  to  the  following  ob- 
jeets  : — The  payment  of  the  debts  at 
present  existing  ou  the  various  connex- 
ion il  funds,  with  a  provision  for  facilitat- 
in_'  the  operation  of  the  plans  adopted  at 
the  II..  eting  to  prevent  the  recurrence  of 
Siiiiibir  debts  in  future;  and  the  reduc- 
tion, according  to  ]ilans  to  be  hereafter 
d' termini  d  by  the  committee  above-men- 
tioned, of  debts  upon  the  .chapels  of  the 


480 


Religious  and  Literary  Intelligence. 


[July, 


Connexion,  with  a  provision  for  facilitat- 
ing the  erection  of  new  cliapcls  in  iinjxirt- 
ant  and  destitute  places.  Tor  these 
important  objects  it  was  proposed  that  the 
sum  of  one  hundred  thousand  jiouuds  at 
least  should  be  raised,  over  ten  tlu'Usand 
pounds  of  -which  were  subscribed  in  two 
days !  Two  years  are  allowed  for  the 
completion  of  the  undertaking. 

LETTER  FROM  PROFESSOU  JACODI. 

Konigshcrg,  Jfurcli,  l.Sri3. 
The  controversy  concerninLT  the  continu- 
ation or  dissolution  of  the  union  in  the 
Established  Church  of  Prussia  has  ex- 
tended still  further  duriii'^'-  the  last  three 
months.  A  great  many  ckrirymen,  even 
of  the  province  of  PomniLTania,  the  prin- 
cipal seat  of  esact  Lutheranisni,  have,  in 
petitions  sent  to  the  Chiirch-i^overnnicnt, 
declared  themselves  in  favour  of  uphold- 
ing the  Union  between  LutiiLraus  and  Re- 
formed. The  "  Oberkirchmrath"  (Su- 
preme Ecclesiastical  C-eurt)  is  of  opinion, 
that  the  Union  should  Le  rcjiri'SiMited  at 
least  in  the  supreme  Court  of  tlie  Church, 
so  as  not  to  allow  any  one  to  tnu-r  it  with- 
out admitting  the  provision  that  it  shall 
contain  both  Lutheran  and  lu  formed  mem- 
bers, and  agreeing  to  the  coinmon  adminis- 
tration by  the  J'imrim  of  tlie  OiM-rkirehen- 
rath.  So  it  has  also  williiiL-Iy  adtnitt«  d  as  a 
member.  Dr.  Nitzsch,  who,  like  most  of  the 
friends  of  the  Union,  considers  tin-  agree- 
ment of  the  Lutheran  and  lUfornied  confes- 
sions as  the  symbolic  b.xsis  i>f  tlie  Clmrcli. 
The  united  congregations  of  the  lUiine  jrov- 
ince  have  been  reassured  concerning  the 
right  of  their  united  exist./nce.  And  this 
was  a  very  wise  and  very  neces^.try  decision ; 
for  these  congregations  arose  amidst  a 
predominantly  Catholic  population,  by  the 
uniting  of  Lutherans  and  Kif'rnud  into 
one  congregation.  A  dissolution  of  the 
Union  would  threaten  also  tlu  se  eon^rrega- 
tions  with  dissolution.  Meanwhile  the 
opponents  of  the  Union  have  not  l>een  in- 
active. They  met  in  some  J.rovincial  and 
one  general  assembly  at  Wittenberg,  (Sept. 
28-30, 1852,1  where  a  great  zeal  was  mani- 
fested, exhibiting  mure  of  Lntheranism 
than  of  Christianity.  To  the  theolo-ical 
faculties — men  who  have  discrvod  of  the 
Church  more  than  any  of  the  assistants  at- 
that  assembly — thty  have  answered  with 
strong  invectives  and  weak  reasonings ; 
some  have  seen  in  tlie  declarations  in  fa- 
vour of  the  Union  open  apostasy  from  the 
Church,  as  they  likewise  formerly  con- 
tended that  the  Union  was  revolution,  and 
that  lovft  for  the  Church  and  the  native 
country  was  only   found  with   the  most 


rip;id  Lutherans  or  Reformed.  They  de- 
mand from  the  Oberkirchenrath,  above 
all  other  things,  the  establishment  of 
a  Lutheran  senate  in  that  court,  and 
the  abolition  of  the  ecclesiastical  con- 
stitution, issued  for  the  evangelical  con- 
gregations, as  containing  too  many 
democratic  enactments,  whilst  they  over- 
rate the  ministry  in  a  way  rather 
Catholic  than  Protestant.  The  Ober- 
kirchenrath resists  the  former  demand; 
but  as  to  the  execution  of  the  eccle- 
siastical constitution,  it  has  long  ago 
made  it  dependent  on  the  free  will  of  the 
pastors,  patrons,  and  congregations.  The 
constitution  has  been  introduced  in  the 
most  suspected  part  of  the  monarchy — in 
two  hundred  and  tifty  congregations — and 
the  result  has  been  favourable  beyond  all 
expectation.  The  newly-elected  elders 
have  felt  the  obligation  resting  upon 
them  to  take  the  lead  by  a  Christian  life 
and  frequent  attendance  at  church.  They 
have  introduced  a  stricter  discipline,  and 
a  more  attentive  ministering  to  the  wants 
of  the  poor,  and  in  this  and  other  respects 
obstacles  have  been  overcome  in  a  short 
time,  against  which  the  pastors  had  long 
struggled  in  vain.  A  new  interest  in  the 
gospel  begins  to  awaken.  Some  of  the 
congregations  in  the  farthest  north-east 
have  been  very  much  injured  by  Rational- 
ism, for  the  University  of  Konigsberg, 
where  Kant  had  his  seat,  fostered  Ration- 
alistic views  in  clergymen  and  teachers. 
But  other  congregations  have  preserved 
Christianity  in  traditional,  and,  more  or 
less,  living  forms.  To  those  who  uphold 
a  high  degree  of  Christian  piety,  belong 
the  Lithuanian  people,  of  which  a  con- 
siderable remnant  here  still  exists.  Sepa- 
rated from  the  modern  unchristian  influ- 
ences by  distance,  language,  and  little 
cultivation,  it  has  retained  all  its  patri- 
archal piety.  The  state  government  and 
the  University  of  Konigsberg  take  care 
of  the  education  of  preachers  who  are  able 
to  preach  to  them  in  the  Lithuanian  lan- 
guage, which  is  still  at  least  the  language 
of  the  Church.  In  these  Prussian  coun- 
tries, near  the  boundaries  of  Russia,  the 
P.aptists  arc  very  active  in  spreading  their 
sect.  Here  is  the  home  of  many  Men- 
nonites,  a  sect  kindred  to  them  and  dwell- 
ing esptoially  in  the  fruitful  low  countries 
on  the  Aistula.  These  begin  now  to  emi- 
grate often  to  Russia,  where  great  privi- 
leges are  granted  to  these  peaceable,  in- 
dr.strious,  and  wealthy  settlers. 

The  Irvingites,  who  have  already  de- 
scondid  from  the  climax  of  favour  they 
found  at  Rerlin,  are  now  endeavouring  to 


1853.] 


Theological  and  Religious. 


481 


make  proselytes  in  tliese  distant  tracts. 
Two  of  their  evangelists  visited  Kijni-s- 
l»erg,  (1S52,)  but  were  forced  by  the  police 
to  quit  the  town.  Of  late,  the  police,  see- 
ing that  the  reasons  for  banishing  them 
out  of  town  were  not  valid,  has  not 
opposed  any  obstacle  to  their  return.  So 
one  evangelist  of  the  sect  has  again  made 
his  appearance  at  Kouigsberg ;  and  since 
in  all  large  towns,  idle  reformers,  vain  and 
confused  pious  people  are  found,  then.-  is 
no  doubt  that  they  will  find  som£  adher- 
ents here  also. 

Spirrilerjiuin  Solexmen'ie,  complectens   sane- 
.  torum  PatruDi  scriptorumque  ecclesias- 

ticorum  anecdota  hactenus  opera,  cur. 

Dom.  T.  B.  Pitra,    ord.  S.  Bened.,  Mo- 

nacho  e  cougregatione  Gallica.      Tom. 

primus,  (auctores  ssculo  V.  antiquiores.) 

Paris:  1852. 
I  wish  to  direct  your  attention  to  a  work 
■which  I  cannot  myself  as  yet  fully  char.xcter- 
ize  to  you,  but  which,  by  all  that  I  know 
of  it,  manifests  already  its  great  import- 
ance. The  learned  French  Benedictine, 
M.  Pitra,  has,  with  that  assiduity  which 
always  distinguished  his  order,  compiled  a 
large  work,  which  is  a  worthy  continua- 
tion of  the  great  collections  of  Mabillon 
and  Montfaucon,  and  which,  in  recent 
times,  has  been  surpassed  only  by  the 
treasures  brought  forth  from  the  Vatican 
library  by  Angelo  Mai.  The  libraries  of 
Great  Britain,  France,  and  Belgium,  have 
been  searched  by  him  with  great  care  ; 
manuscripts,  already  often  examined,  have 
been  again  reviewed,  and  a  rich  gleaning 
made  of  ecclesiastical  writers,  from  the 
first  centuries  to  the  twelfth.  At  present 
I  will  mention  a  few  of  the  contents,  re- 
serving other  portions  for  a  future  article. 
The  few  words  which  are  prviduccd 
from  a  Latin  translation  of  the  kttor  uf 
Clemens  Romanus  to  the  Corinthians, 
have  little  value,  as  also  the  translator 
cannot  be  ascertained;  it  is  of  interest 
only  that  he  seems  to  translate  the  am- 
biguous expression  c-ivour)  by  /"nna. 
Also,  two  short  pieces,  produced  by  ^  ictor 
of  Capua,  (about  o50  p.  Chr.,)  in  a  Latin 
translation  of  a  Greek  work,  (liber  res- 
ponsionum,)  would  not  be  much  missed, 
the  authorship  of  Polycarp,  to  whom  he 
attributes  them,  being  very  uncertain. 
Of  no  greater  importance  is  a  millennial 
story  of  Papias,  extracted  from  an  Arme- 
nian Codex  of  a  Convent  of  the  il-  chiia- 
riah  at  Venice,  and  narrated  already  by 
Iren.-eus  with  by  far  too  much  importance. 
But  it  would  be  a  very  interestin;;  cir- 
cmnstance,  if  a  literal  interpretation  of  tliis 


very  story  of  Papias,  contained  in  the 
Prolegomena  of  the  Spicilegium,  should 
be  a  fragment  of  the  Clavis  of  llclito 
of  Sardis  (170  p.  Chr.)  as  the  editor 
asserts,  who  pronu^cs  to  publish  after- 
wards the  whole  book.  Then  we 
should  know  the  contents  of  this  book, 
mentioned  by  Euscbius,  and  understand 
its  name :  it  would  be,  as  far  as  we 
know,  the  first  Biblical  lexicographic 
essay  in  the  Church;  a  noteworthy  tes- 
timJnial  of  the  scientific  tendencies  of 
the  Church  of  Asia  Elinor  in  the  second 
century.  The  expressions  of  Papias  are 
understood  figuratively,  the  vineyard  as 
the  Church,  Ac.  To  IremEus  M.  Pitra, 
according  to  the  manuscript,  attrilmtes  a 
Syrian  fragment,  which,  together  with  the 
other  Syrian  codices,  has  been  brought 
recently' to  the  British  Museum  from  the 
Egyptian  convents.  It  contains  a  de- 
scription of  the  person  and  of  the  work 
of  Christ,  and  thrre  is  nothing  in  it  that 
could  not  have  been  said  by  Ireuteus. 
His  authorship  is  somewhat  confirmed  by 
the  reappearing  of  the  same  fragment  in 
au  Armenian  manuscript  at  Venice,  which 
also  attributes  it  to  Irenseus :  but  the 
test  has  been  made  more  uncertain  by  it ; 
for  tlie  jVrmeniau  has  amplified  the  same 
subject.  This  very  matter  is  treated  of 
in  another  Syrian  piece  attributed  to  him, 
which  is  as  it  were  an  enlargement  of  the 
second  article  of  the  Apostles'  Creed  ;  it 
is  distinguished  from  the  other,  especially 
by  the  antilhcses,  in  which  the  predi- 
cates of  Christ  are  enumerated.  It  is 
noteworthy  that  the  author  states,  expli- 
citly in  both  pieces,  that  he  gives  only 
what  is  taught  by  Holy  Writ.  There  is 
in  it  no  apiieal  at  all  to  ecclesiastical  tra- 
dition, which  the  Roman  Church  likes  so 
much  to  support  by  the  authority  of 
Irena.'us. 

The  editor  joins  to  this  a  prologue  to  the 
five  books  of  Irenajus  Adverg,  Ilacre^.,  which 
he  attributes,  by  a  not  unhappy  accommo- 
dation, to  the  deacon  Florus,  of  Lyon,  in 
the  ninth  century;  evidence  concerning  it 
cannot  be  obtained,  and  the  piece  does  not 
deserve  much  inquiry  in  this  regard.  In 
the  appendix  M.  Pitra  adds  a  fragment 
of  a  practical  explanation  of  Matthew 
XX,  21,  evidently  a  part  of  a  larger  prac- 
tical exegetical'  work;  the  Armenian 
manuscript  calls  Irenaius  the  author,  but 
\%hich  he  thinks  ri-htly  is  very  doubtfuL 
■With  still  more  certainty  the  fragments 
of  Jujtinus  Martyr,  which  are  contained  iu 
the  Antirrheticos  of  Xicephorus,  may  be 
cnnsidcred  as  siiurious.  Some  pieces  will 
also  remain  uncertain,  attributed  to  Hip- 


482 


Religiovs  and  Literary  Intelligence. 


[July, 


polytus,  which  arc  quoted  here  ami  in  the 
appendix,  (p.  5">1 ;)  the  latter  h;is  more 
the  appearance  of  geuiiiueness  than  the 
former;  Loth  of  them  are  of  small  cxtont. 
Amon^  the  fragments  from  the  hook  of 
Victor  of  Capua  -(^hich  are  ascriled  to 
Origan,  is  one  from  a  work  hithcrlo,  as 
it  seems,  overlooked,  on  the  r;i^sover. 
He  says  in  it,  that  the  fire  of  ])uritieatiiin, 
which  shall  occur  at  the  end  of  the  world, 
will  consume  also  all  darkness  of  the  di- 
viuc  things,  since  then,  like  an;,'els,  we 
shall  have  God,  the  source  of  all  ^ood, 
present.  Another  is  taken  from  a  letter 
to  Firmilianus,  of  Ca:sarea,  in  Cappailocia, 
and  explains,  in  a  striking  manner,  the 
difierence  between  Christians  destitute  of 
science  and  those  learned ;  the  former, 
resting  firmly  on  their  simjile  faith,  over- 
come by  their  silence  the  adversaries  of 
sound  doctrine.  The=e  two  fra'_'mcnts  are 
characterized  by  the  style  of  Origon, 
and  are  genuine  without  doubt  ;  as  to  the 
others,  it  is  much  more  uncertain.  A 
fragment  of  a  letter  of  IVionysiiis  of  Alex- 
andria to  a  certain  Coiion,  treating  of 
ecclesiastical  discipline,  is  warranted  by 
the  testimonial  of  Kusi  bins,  ajid  shows  in 
its  language,  and  the  mild  and  friendly 
sentiments  throughout,  the  expression  of 
this  bishop,  so  pious  and  fall  of  love.  Of 
greater  extent  than  all  the  rest  is  a  newly- 
discovered  Latin  jioini,  of  about  one 
thousand  verses,  wliich,  by  the  editor,  is 
ascribed  with  much  rea*.)n  to  Comnio- 
dianus.  The  crude  v<r-e<:,  similar  to 
hexameters,  but  neglecting  arbitrarily  the 
quantity,  the  rude  mode  of  expressii.in, 
many  strange  words,  at  last  the  character- 
istic of  the  poet's  person,  all  this  quite 
confirms  this  view  of  the  authorship.  The 
contents  of  this  newly-fnund  poem  are 
apologetical  against  Heathens  and  Jews  ; 
but  it  seems  to  have  oricinatrd  in  a  more 
quiet  time  of  the  Church,  and  was  pro- 
bably composed  between  tlie  Valerian  and 
Diocletian  persecutions.  The  most  note- 
worthy feature  of  it  is,  that  the  author 
agrees  to  the  principles  of  the  I'atri- 
passiani ;  1>t  he  contends,  like  iheni,  that 
God  the  Father  himself  has  aj.pearcd  in 
Christ  as  the  .Son.  Only  he  is  somewhat 
opposed  to  the  suffering  of  the  Father, 
saying,  that  God  was  unwilling  that  it 
should  be  said  of  the  Father,  that  he  had 
sufi'ered  ;  in  order  to  disappoint  the  devil, 
ho  had  preferred  to  bring  it  about  that 
the  suffering  was  ]ierceived  in  the  Son. 
Commodian  writes  with  an  ingenuousness 
which  points  necessarily  to  a  wide-sjircad 
agreement  with  him  in  the  Church  of 
Northern  Africa.     Xow  we  know  moreover 


from  the  recently-found  Fhilosophumena, 
reviewed  already  in  this  periodical,  and 
ascribed  with  almost  general  unanimity  to 
llippolytus,  that  also  in  Rome  the  doctrine 
of  I'atripassianism  found  a  great  many 
adherents ;  that  Zephyrinus,  Callistus, 
and  a  great  part  of  the  congregation, 
airreed  to  its  essential  points  ;  that  her- 
alds of  this  doctrine,  as  Cleomencs  and 
I'raxeas,  known  from  Tertullian,  were 
received  here  very  favourably.  So  it  be- 
comes ptobable  that  the  popular  opinion 
of  the  Occident  considered  generally  fi'om 
the  beginning  the  Father  as  the  divine  in 
Christ,  whilst  in  the  Orient  the  more 
theoretical  cultivation  favoured  the  doc- 
trine of  subordination.  Therefore  the  doc- 
trine of  Homoousion  was  earlier  and  more 
universally  developed  in  the  Occident.  To 
the  second  century  M.  Pitra  refers  also 
two  small  tracts,  regarding  celebration  of 
feasts  and  of  Passover  ;  he  assigns  as  the 
author  of  the  latter  a  Bishop  Murinus,  of 
Alexandria,  and  an  anonymous  writer  as 
that  of  the  former.  However  interesting 
it  could  be  for  the  controversy  about  the 
Passover  to  receive  new  communications 
concerning  it  from  so  early  an  epoch,  yet 
these  have,  without  doubt,  a  later  origin. 
For  in  the  first  tract  the  sporting  about 
the  seven  degrees,  that  is,  offices  in  the 
Church,  and  in  the  second  the  assertion, 
that  the  whole  Church,  following  the 
scdca  apoi<tolica,  had  rejected  a  certain 
custom  of  the  celebration,  suits  only  to  a 
much  later  time. 

To  the  fourth  century  some  Coptic 
fragments  of  Acts  of  the  Council  of  Nice 
seem  to  belong.  Probably  they  oricriaated 
before  the  Council  of  Constantinople, 
(.381.)  and  after  the  beginning  of  the 
controversy  with  Photius,  about  350. 
The  Acts  contain  the  Council's  Confession 
of  Faith,  six  canons,  among  which  the 
important  one  concerning  the  rank  of  the 
bishops  of  Alexandria,  Antiochia,  and 
Rome,  in  the  shorter  authentic  form  ;  a 
rather  silly  legend  respecting  the  three 
hundred  and  eighteen  members,  among 
whom  the  Holy  Spirit  is  said  to  have 
been  visible  as  the  three  hundred  and 
nineteenth;  a  register  of  African  and 
Asiatic  bishops,  who  were  present,  is  an- 
nexed, by  which  the  two  registers  known 
to  us  are  suiiplied.  To  the  fourth  centui-y 
belong  also  Scholia  to  Exodus  by  Diodorus 
of  Tarsus,  the  famous  founder  of  Antioch- 
ian  theology  and  teacher  of  Chrysos- 
tom.  They  are  given  by  Victor  of  Capua, 
and  judging  by  contents  as  well  as  form, 
their  genuineness  seems  to  undergo  no 
doubt.      Diodorus    develops  in  it,  among 


1853.] 


Theological  and  Reli^'ious. 


483 


other  things,  his  opinion  of  free  will,  and 
avoids  embracing  uiilimitfd  predostina- 
tion.  The  words:  "I  shall  harden  the 
heart  of  Pharaoh,"  are  thus  interpreted 
by  him :  God  had  indulgence  and  for- 
bearance with  him,  in  order  to  grant  to 
the  Egyptian,  shaken  by  the  miracles, 
time  for  repentance  and  conversion,  llut 
this  patience  was  at  ouce  the  occasion  of 
Pharaoh's  abusing  it  and  becoming  olidu- 
rate.  Inasmuch  as  God  caused  it,  it  could 
be  said  that  he  had  done  it — a  not  impos- 
sible explanation,  because  it  rcprcsints 
God  not  nu-rely  as  passive  and  admitting. 
In  the  interpretation  of  Exodus  xvi,  4  : 
"God  will  rain  bread  from  heaven,"  lie 
combats  naturalistic  adversaries,  who  will 
not  see  in  it  anything  wonderful,  tlic 
manna  being  found  still  now  in  certaiu 
places.  Then  he  gives  a  hint  of  his 
opinion  respecting  the  Lord's  Supper, 
which  shows  that  he  regarded  bread  and 
wine  as  symbols  of  the  body  and  blood  of 
Christ,  i'or  he  says,  the  nianua  is  a 
type  of  the  bread  of  heaven,  of  the  bread 
of  angels,  but  the  food  of  angtds  is 
Christ,  the  Word  of  God.  But  also  we, 
as  it  were  the  true  Israelites  of  the  Des. 
ert,  receive  the  body  of  Christ  and  have 
a  symbol  of  it  in  the  manna :  wherefore  it 
is  said  in  the  77th  Psalm,  (Ps.  Isxviii,  2.<,) 
"Man  did  eat  angels'  food."  I  leave  otf 
here  reviewing  the  Spicilegiuni,  and  hope 
to  return  hereafter  to  the  other  conttnts, 
in  some  regard  most  important. 

Pi-oteitantiiiche  Jlonatsllatter  fur  innrre  Z-.il- 
gcichichtc,  &c.  Gotha.  Justus  Pirihes. 
(Protestant  Monthly  Review  for  the  in- 
ner history  of  the  ago.) 

I  avail  myself  of  this  occasion  to  rec- 
ommend to  you  and  your  countrymen 
this  excellent  periodical.  Some  of  our 
best  theologians  and  laymen  took  part  in 
establishing  it  ;  and  the  editor  himself  is 
a  scholar,  highly  esteemed  on  account  of 
his  excellent  works  on  political,  ecclesias- 
tical, and  literary  history,  as  well  as  ou 
account  of  his  sentiments.  It  is  int.'ndid 
to  counteract  both  thePioman  political  agi- 
tation and  infidelity.  The  number  for 
January,  1S"'3,  contains  pieces  of  nnirh 
worth.  It  is  opened  by  a  short  and  beauti- 
ful discourse,  pointing  the  learned  to  Cliri-t, 
the  true  King  and  only  helj)  in  our  ni<il. 
Then  a  treatise:  "Pa'ligion,piiilosopliy,aMd 
politics  in  the  next  time  to  come,''  iuttr- 
esting  especially  -for  the  serious  ftiipre- 
ciation  of  the  past  of  philosophy  and  its 
influence,  and  for  free-minded  Cliristian 
sense.    Then  follows  a  treatise  on  the  mar- 


tyrdom of  the  three  bishops,  Cranmer, 
Ridley,  Latimer,  under  Maria  Stuart,  most 
interesting  from  the  subject  itself,  and  ex- 
hibiting as  much  knowledge  as  caution. 
Then  Heza's  call  upon  Henry  IT.  to  retain 
him  from  seceding  to  Catholicism,  imbued 
with  prophetical  strength;  a  document 
recently  found  by  Professor  Bonnet  in  the 
library  of  Geneva,  which  shows  how  little 
the  king's  abnegations  were  approved  by 
Bcza,  although  it  has  been  believed  till 
now.  We  could  support  our  recommen- 
dations by  other  remarks,  but  think  these 
sufficient.  J.  L.  J. 

Amoso  the  new  works  in  theology  and 
kindred  subjects  announced  in  Great 
Britain  are  the  following : — Scenes  in 
other  Lands  :  with  their  Associations,  His- 
torical and  Religious.  By  John  Stough- 
ton,  author  of  "Spiritual  Heroes:''  in 
fool-cap  3vo. : — The  Life  of  the  Rev.  J. 
Pyo  Smith,  I).  D.,  F.  R.  S.,  etc. :  compiled 
from  jiajiers  in  possession  of  the  family. 
By  the  Rev.  John  Medway.  Hvo.: — Eir.<t 
Lines  of  Christian  Theology ;  in  the  form 
of  a  Syllabus,  prepared  for  the  use  of  the 
Students  ill  Homerton  College.  Bv  the 
late  Rev.  John  Pye  Smith,  I).  1).,  LL.  D., 
F.  i:.  S..  F.  G.  S.  Edited  by  the  Rev.  W. 
FarrcT,  LL.  P..  Large  8vo. :— Tfie  Holy  Bi- 
ble. First  Division  :  the  Pentateuch  ;  or, 
Five  B.>i)ks  of  Moses,  according  to  the  Au- 
thoriz<'d  Version:  with  Notes,  Critical. 
IVaclical.  and  Devotional.  Edited  by  the 
Rev.  Thomas  Wilson,  M.  A.,  author  of 
"  S[.iritual  Catholicity."  Part  L  :— Bases 
of  BiTicT:  an  Examination  ofll'hristianity 
as  ft  Divine  Revelation  by  the  Lidit  of 
Recognised  Facts  and  Principles.  In  Four 
Parts.  By. Edward  Miall,  M.  P. :— The 
Aj'ocalypse  its  own  Interpreter,  by  the  Ap- 
plicatii>n  of  a  Sound  and  Ancient  Rule  for 
the  Interpreting  of  Holy  Scripture;  to 
«hi.h  is  added  a  Short  Series  of  Disserta- 
tinns  on  Symbolical  IVophecy,  its  Nature 
and  Design.  By  the  Yen.  James  AV.  Forster, 
LL.  D.,  ArchdLacon  of  Aghadoe,  and  Vicar- 
Gi  ni  ral  of  Limerick.  S\o. :— Narrative  of 
a  Journey  round  the  Dead  Sea  and  in  the 
Bible  Lands,  from  December,  ISoO,  to 
Aprij,  Is-.l.  By  F.  De  Sauley,  Member  of 
the  French  Institute.  Translated  by  the 
C-Muit  Do  Warren.  2  vols.,  Svo. :— St.  Hij)- 
Jioiytus  and  the  Church  of  Rome  in  the 
F..r!i.r  Part  of  the  Third  Century;  from 
the  Ju-wly-<liscovered  "  Philosophunuua," 
or  the  Greek  Text  of  those  Portions  which 
nlate  to  that  Subject;  with  an  English 
■Wr^ion  and  Notes;  and  an  Introductory 
lu'iuiry  into  the  Authorship  of  the  Treatise, 
and  ou  the  Life  and  Works  of  the  AVriter. 


484 


Religions  and  Literary  Intelligence. 


[July, 


By  Christopher  'Wordsworth,  D.  1).,  Canon 
of  Westminster.  8vo. : — Memorials  of  Karly 
Christianity;  presentinij,  in  a  Graiihic, 
Compact,  and  Popular  I'orni,  some  of  the 
Memorable  Events  of  F.arlv  Kccltsia>tical 
History.  By  Rev.  J.  G.  I^liali,  author  of 
"Footsteps  of  our  Forefatlurs."  i'ost 
8vo.,  with  illustrations  : — The  riiilosojjhy 
of  Atheism  examined  and  cuuipan.'d  with 
Christianity  :  a  Course  of  Popular  Lectures 
delivered  at  the  Mechanics'  Institute,  llrad- 
ford,  on  Sunday  Afternoons  in  the  Winter 
of  lSo2-3.  By  Rev.  B.  GodNsin,  ]>.  \\  :— 
Modern  Romanism  :  a  View  of  the  Pro- 
ceedings, i-c,  of  the  Council  of  Trent. 
By  B.  B.  Woodward,  Esq..  11.  A.— lUli-- 
ion  and  Business  ;  or,  Spiritual  Life  in 
one  of  its  Secular  Departments.  V,y  A. 
J.  Morris.  Fcp.  8vo. : — The  Ln^-ic  of 
Atheism.  By  .Sxmud  M'All,  Minijter  of 
Castle-j;ate  Meeting,  Nottingham.  iL'mo. : 
— The  Lamp  and  the  Lancrn  ;  or.  Light 
for  the  Tent  and  the  TraviUer.  By 
James  Hamilton,  D.  ]).,  F.  L.  S.  Ftp. 
Svo. : — Ahbeokuta  ;  or,  Sunrise  within 
the  Tropics.  By  Miss  Tucker,  author  of 
"  The  Rainbow  in  the  Xorth.''  Fcp. 
Svo. : — Christ  our  Life  ;  in  its  Origin, 
Law,  and  End.  An  Essay  on  the  Life  of 
Christ,  adapted  to  Missionary  Purposes. 
By  the  Rev.  Josejih  Angus,  I).  D.  Crown 
8vo. : — A  Series  of  LecturL-s  on  Scripture 
Characters,  by  the  late  Duncan  .Meanis, 
D.  D.,  Professor  of  I>ivi!utY  in  the  I'ni- 
versity  and  King's  Culli-.re,  Aberdeen,  and 
one  of  Her  Majesty's  Chaplaius  fi)r  Scot- 
laud,  delivered  at  the  Murtle  Lecture  : — 
Israel  in  Egyj)! :  being  Illustrations  of  the 
Books  of  Genesis  and  Exodus,  from  Exist- 
ing ^Monuments ;  one  vol.,  crown  i^vo. : — 
The  Jesuits  :  An  Historical  ,^ketch.  By 
the  Rev.  E.  \\.  Grinheld,  M.  A.     Fcp.  Svo. 

We  give  the  contents  of  the  chief 
F.uropean  Journals : — 

Kitto'g  Journal  of  Svici-rd  Lit-  r'tiurr,  for 
April : — L  The  Scvthian  I^miinii.n  in  .\sia. 
n.  Modern  Studv  of  lh-oj,!ucv.  IIL 
Heaven,  Hell,  Hades.  IV.  Sin  "and  its 
Developments.  V.  Life  and  Epi-.tl.s  of  St. 
Paul.  VL  Slavery  and  the  Old  Te>tament. 
\1L  Biblical  Criticism.  MIL  The  Mem- 
phitic  New  Testament. 

North  lirltixh  Itfviftr,  f.jr  May  :— I.  Mac- 
gillivray's  British  Birds.  H.  Interna- 
tional Relations,  and  the  I'rinciples  of 
our  Foreign  Policy.  HI.  Bunsens  \V\\y 
polytus;  its  Method  and  Results.  IV. 
English  Hexameters.  V,  Ruth;  The 
Reign  of  Female  Novelists.  VI.  Memoirs 
of  French  rrutestantism.  VIl.  Life  under 
an  Italian  Despotism.     VIII.  Glimpses  of 


Poetry.  IX.  The  Higher  Instructions  and 
its  Representatives  in  Scotland.  X.  Wel- 
lington in  the  Peninsula.  XL  Layard's 
Assyrian  Discoveries. 

The    Edinhurrjh     Rcvieic,     for     April : — 

I.  Alison's  History  of  Europe  since  1815. 

II.  JIarriage  with  a  Deceased  Wife's  Sis- 
ter. III.  The  Church  of  England  in  the 
Mountains.  V\.  Recent  Novels — "  Aga- 
tha's Husband."  V.  The  National  Gal- 
lery. VI.  Mr.  D'lsraeli :  His  Character 
and  Career.  VH.  Public  Education. 
VIII.  Marcellus — Memoirs  of  the  Restora- 
tion.    IX.  The  Income  Tax. 

The  Qtiarterli/  Jirvwic,  for  April :— I.  Aps- 
Icy  House.  II.  Scrope's  History  of  Castle 
Combe.  III.  Human  Hair.  lY.  The  Old 
Countess  of  Desmond.  V.  Hungarian  Cam- 
paigns— Kossuth  and  Gorgey.  VI.  Buck- 
ingham Papers.     VII.  Search  for  Franklin. 

VIII.  The    Two    Systems   at  Pentonville. 

IX.  Maurel  on  the  Duke  of  Wellington. 
TXo  Eclectic  Bevleir,  for  April  :— I.  Che- 
valier Bunsen's  Hippolytus  and  his  A^e. 

II.  Life  of  Kirby  the  Entomologist.  III.  St. 
John's  Egyptian  Pilgrimage.  IV.  Miall's 
Bases  of  Belief.  V.  Heywood's  L'niversity 
Reform.  VI.  The  Dissenters'  Chapel  Reg- 
istration Bill.  YIT.  The  Christian  Doctrine 
of  Sin.     VriL  The  Milan  Insurrection. 

lirltl^h  and  Foreign.  Evavrjrllcal  Jlevloc, 
for  March  :— L  John  Albert  Bengel— The 
Lutheran  Church  as  he  found  it — His  Life 
and  Labours.    11.  ^ilodern  Jewish  History. 

III.  Remarks  on  the  Authenticity  of  the 
Pentateuch.  IV.  Recent  Speculations  on 
the  Trinity — Bushnell's  Discourses.  V. 
Kurtz  on  the  Old  Covenant.  YI.  German 
Hymnology.  VII.  The  Reformed  Faith  in 
Italy.  Ylil.  Epistle  to  Diognetus.  IX. 
Critical  Notices.  X.  German  Religious 
Periodicals.     XL  Miscellanies. 

The  B-ospcctive  Review,  for  May : — I.  So- 
ciety in  I\uiger  from  Children.  II.  Bases 
of  Belief.     HI.  Era  Dolcino  and  his  Times. 

IV.  Recent  Works  of  Fiction.  V.  Key  to 
Uncle  Tom's  Cabin.  VL  The  Odes  of 
Horace. 

Amoxo  the  new  works  announced  on  the 
Continent  are  the  following-: — 

Die  Christologie  Luthers  und  die  christo- 
logische  Aufgabe  der  evangelischen  Theolo- 
gie.  Zur  dogmatischen  Begrundung  der 
evangelischen  Union.  Von  Chr.  H.  Wily^e, 
Prof.  d.  Philos.  an  der  Univ.  zu  Leipzig. 
Leipzig:   IS.j:.';  253  pp.  Svo. 

Codex  Claromontanus  sive  Epistolae 
Pauli  onines  jrraece  et  latine.  Ex  codice 
Parisiensi  celeberrimo  nomine  Claromon- 
tani  pkrunique  dicto,  sexti  ut  videtur  post 


1853.] 


Theolosncal  and  Ileh'srious. 


485 


Christum  saeculi,  nunc  ])riTnum  ediJit 
Constant imts  TUchendorf.  Lipsiae  :  1852; 
pp.  600,  lex.  4,  nebst.  2  Bl.  Facsiniile. 
(Subscr.-Pr.  n.  24  Thir.) 

I)er  Geist  der  luthcrischen  Theologen 
Wittent)ergs  ini  Verlaufe  des  17  Jalirliun- 
derts,  theilwei?e  nach  handschrit'tlioheu 
Quellen,  von  Dr.  A.  Tholuch.  Hamburg 
und  Gotha:  1852;  434  pp.  Svo. 

De  origiiie  epistolarum  ad  Epho^ios  ct 
Colossenses,  a  critic-is  TubinijinsiLus  o 
guosi  Valentiniana  deducla.  tnr.  Alb. 
Klopper,  tb.  Lie.  Gryphiae  :  1853  ;  55  pp. 
8vo. 

Die  kattolischen  Briefeder  heil.  Apostol 
Jacobus,  Petrus,  Johannes  u.  Judas  erl.iu- 


tert  u.  harraonisch  geordnct  unter  die 
Grundlehron  des  Christenthums.  Von  i>r. 
il.  A.  Xirkcl,  I>omcapit.  Mainz;  1352: 
200  pp.,  8vo. 

Die  neutcstanicntlieheu  Lehrbegriffe  od. 
Untirsuchiinj,'en  \\h.  das  Zeitalter  der  PiC- 
li5ions\vende,  die  Vorstufen  der  Christen- 
thums u.  die  erste  Gcstal.stunj  desselben. 
Kin  Ilandbuch  f.  iilteste  l)ognieni:;eschichte 
u.  systt-matische  Exegese  des  neuen  Testa- 
uicntes.  Von  JJr.  J.  Aii(.  Bh.  Lutterbecl; 
Professor.  1.  Bd. :  Die  vorchristl.  Ent- 
wickcluug.  Mainz:  1S52;  44G  pp.,  8vo. 
2.  Pid. :  Die  nachchristl.  Entwickelung, 
1652;  314  pp.,  8vo. 


AMERICAN. 


The  "  Tract  Society  of  the  M.  E. 
Church  "  has  sprung  at  once  into  the  pro- 
portions of  a  vigorous  life.  The  Corres- 
ponding Secretary,  Rev.  Abel  Stevens,  has 
visited  most  of  the  Conferences  for  the 
present  year,  and  iu  each  of  them  socie- 
ties auxiliary  to  the  Tract  Society  have 
been  formed,  and  measures  taken  to  pu^h 
the  circulation  of  our  books  and  tracts 
thoroughly.  The  history  of  the  euterpri»e 
and  its  plans  of  procedure  are  given  in  a 
pamphlet  entitled  "  Docnm-^nti  of  ihr  Tntrt 
Society  of  tJu;  JI>:thodift  J'Jpi'ico2>a/  C/mrch," 
whfth  contains: — I.  The  Jlemorial  to  the 
General  Conference  of  1>;52,  by  Dr.  Kidder. 
II.  The  Action  of  the  General  Ooiiforence— 
Constitution — Kesolutions — By-laws.  III. 
An  Account  of  the  Organization  at  New- 
York,  with  a  List  of  the  Otiicers  of  the 
Society.  IV.  Address  of  the  Society  to 
the  Church.  V.  Forms  for  Constitutions 
of  Conference  and  Church  Aujciliitries — 
Form  of  Bequest.  VI.  Scheme  of  the 
Society;  the  Parent  Society;  Coiifenuco 
Auxiliaries;  Conference  Agents;  Kisiriet 
Agents  or  Colporteurs;  Church  .Vuxilia- 
ries  ;  Tract  Stewards.  \'II.  Tabular  Forms 
for  District  Agents  or  Colporteurs.  VIII. 
List  of  Recent  Tracts.  IX.  List  of  Cheap 
Tract  Volumes.  AVe  hope  this  pamjjhlet 
will  be  widely  circulated,  and  that  its 
careful  and  accurate  jiUmi  of  operation 
will  be  universally  adopted.  A  new  and 
vastly-extended  field  of  usefulness  «ill  be 
opened  thereby  to  our  Book  Concern,  and 
to  all  the  good  men  and  women  of  the 
Church  who  can  write  or  circulate  books 
and  tracts. 

■We  give  the  contents  of  the  chief 
American  Theological  Journals  : — 

Brownton's  Qiuirtrrly,  f'jr  April : — I.  The 
Spiritual  not  the  Temporal :  II.  Life  of  Mrs. 


Eliza  A.  Seton:  IIL  A  Consistent  Protes- 
tant: IV.  The  Love  of  Mary:  V.  Dangers 
which  Threaten  Catholics :  VI.  Ethics  of 
Controversy. 

BiUioth.xn  Siicra,  for  April:—!  Auto- 
biogruiihy  of  Dr.  Karl  Gottlieb  Bretschnei- 
der:  II.  Interpretation  of  the  Twenty- 
ci-hth  Chapter  of  Job:  III.  Lueian  and 
Cliristianity  :  IV.  Review  of  Riley's  Trans- 
lation of  the  Comedies  of  Plautus  :  V.  Hu- 
niaiiu  Features  of  the  Hebrew  Law  :  VI.  Dr. 
Alexander's  Moral  Science. 

fniiiffofiral  BccietP,  for  April; — I.  Col- 
le.'iatu  Education:  U.  Grounds  of  Diffi- 
culty— Success  in  the  Study  of  Theology: 

III.  Lectures  on  the  Principal  Doctrines 
and   Practices    of   the    Catholic    Church: 

IV.  Contributions  to  the  Christology  of 
the  Church :  V.  The  Lutheran  Cultus : 
VI.  The  IK-legation  of  the  Missouri  Synod 
in  tiermany  :  VIL  Notes  on  Prophecy. 

UnirrrxalUt  Qiinrtvrl ij ,  for  April : — I.  5Ie- 
moir  of  Chalmers  :  IL  Ditticulties  of  Undcr- 
standiu'.'  the  Holy  Scriptures:  IIL  Christ 
the  Instrument  of  Redemption  :  IV.  Ha- 
zael  :  V.  liemarks  on  Romans  vi,  7  :  VI. 
The  Resurrection  as  a  Figure :  ML  The 
Divine  Character  our  Moral  Standard. 

r/.KrcA  Brvicxr,  for  April  :— I.  Religion  for 
the  Republic:  IL  Bishop  Philander  Chase  : 
111.  Daniel  Webster:  IV.  The  Rt.  Rev.  Levi 
Silliman  Ives,  D.  D.,  LL.  D.,  Bishop  of 
North  Carolina  :  V.  New-England  Theol- 
ogy:  VI.  The  Eclipse  of  Faith  :  VIL  Colo- 
nial Churches  m  Virginia. 

Tlifijliiijic'd  anil  Lit'-rnn/  .hmrnal,  for 
April :— I.  Henry's  Life  anil  Times  of  Cal- 
vin :  II.  Dr.  J.  P.  Smith  ou  the  (icological 
Theory:  III.  The  Kn;;lish,  Cniversities : 
I\'.  The  Doctrines  of  Dr.  Ncvin  and  his 
Party  :  V.  Critics  and  Correspondents. 


486 


Religious  and  Literary  Intelligence. 


[July, 


Free -WiU  Baptist  QuaHcrlj,  for  April : — 
I.  Prospect  of  the  AN'orld's  (.'onvir-iou  in 
the  Light  of  the  Last  Half  Centurj  :  II. 
Mission  of  the  Free-'Will  Ba])tist  J). mnuina- 
tion  :  lU.  Moral  i;earin;rs  of  riuiiiolo;.'y  : 
IV.  Uuiuau  Keason  and  the  llelicioa  of 
Christ:  V.  Missions:  VI.  rroa..hiii- :  VII. 
Sacred  Music :  VUI.  Alexander's  -Moral 
Science. 

Southern  M'thixUnt  QnarlrrhjJ^^xXyvW: — 

I.  Isaac  Taylor  on  Woiltv  and  Methodism  : 

II.  Ezekiel'and  the  Book  of  hi?  I'roi.hecv  : 
in.  A  Cursory  View  of  the  Evil  Tendi  uefes 
of  Fashionable  Aiuuseintiits  :  IV.  Zeeha- 
riah  :  V.  Fundamental  Elt-nieiit  of  Church 
Government :  VI.  Theory  of  IV-niak-  Edu- 
cation :  Vll.  Obsolete  Disciplinary  Laws  : 
MU.  Hebrew  Literature. 

Merv<:rshur<jh  Quaitirli/  Rriif\c,U:T  A]iril : 
L  Dr.  Ncvin  and  his  Antagonists:  11.  The 
Character  of  the  Germau  Ilifornied  Church 
and  its  Relations  to  Lutherani^m  and  Cal- 
vinism :  UI.  Francis  JeHVey  :  IV.  The  Na- 
ture of  Christianity  :  V.  Christian  Baptism 
and  the  Bajitistic  Question. 


Southern  Prenhyterian  lUcieic,  for  Aj)ril : — 
I.  Spiritual  Beneficence  :  II.  Unconditional 
Decrees :  III.  The  Ceaseless  Activity  of 
Matter:  IV.  Are  the  Wicked  Immortal? 
V.  An  Address  delivered  before  the  S<Dciety 
of  Missionary  Inquiry,  Theological  Semi- 
nary, Columbia,  S.  C. :  VI.  Necrology : 
VII.  Reason  and  Future  Punishment. 

Biblical  llrpcrtury,  for  April : — I.  Char- 
acter and  Writings  of  Feuelon  :  II.  The  Re- 
ligious Significance  of  Numbers  :  III.  Mer- 
cantile florals,  and  the  Successful  Mer- 
chant:  IV.  'j'he  Life  and  Studies  of  C.  G. 
Zumpt  :  V.  Idea  of  the  Church  :  VL  On 
the  Correspondence  between  Prophecy  and 
History. 

yeic-Enr/landcr,  for  May: — I.  Doctrine 
of  the  Higher  Law  :  II.  F'ashion  in  Relig- 
ion :  III.  The  Separatists  of  Eastern  Con- 
necticut :  IV.  The  Editorial  Profession : 
V.  John  Adams's  Diary  and  Aiitobiogi-a- 
phy :  VI.  The  Litiucnce  of  Great  Men : 
VU.  Church  Review  Theology :  MU.  The 
New  Infidelity  :  IX.  The  Complete  Academ- 
ical Education  of  Females :  X.  Scientific 
Miscellany  :  XL  Professor  Stanley. 


CliiGoicnl  iuxb  illiGcclIaucoiis. 


We  have  received  iho  third  iiud  en- 
larged edition  of  Engeluiann's  "  BifJia- 
theca  Phdoln.ji' a,"  (Leip^iir,  l-^oo,  8vo. 
jip.  23C.)  It  contains  a  !i-t  of  all  the 
Grammars,  Dictiouarics.  Clue>toiaathies, 
Sec,  pertaining  to  the  study  of  tL>-  Greek 
and  Latin  languages,  uhich  liave  ap- 
peared in  Germany  between  17."0  and 
1802. 

The  first  volume  of  the  ei,-litli  edition 

of  the  '■  EiicyAop'vdln  Britttiaur.i"  ha-,  just 
appeared.  It  contains  a  new  Diss-Ttation 
on  the  Rise,  rru:n'ess,  and  (\rruptiuns  of 
Christianity,  by  Richard  W  h.itely.  I).  D., 
Archbishop  uf  Inibliii.  Also,  1  t;s,t.rtations 
first  and  second,  on  the  !'ro_'ri'«s  of  Meta- 
physical and  I'.thical  I'liilo^ophy,  by  Du- 
gald  Stewart  ami  the  Right  Ifoii.  Sir 
James  .Maekiuto-h,  LL.  1)..  .vc.  With  nu 
Introduction  by  W  iniam  Whewell,  I).  I)., 
Professor  of  Moral  PhiLsophy  in  the  L'ni- 
versity  of  CatnLrid:.'i'.  Dissertations  fourth 
and  fifth,  on  the  I'rogress  of  Mathematical 
and  Physic;d  >eieu.-cs.  by  Profi-.-vrs  Play- 
fair  and  Sir  John  Le-lie.  Tiie  sicond 
volume  will  contain  ibc-ides  nuiiicrous 
other  articles;  the  follo\wng :— Agricul- 
ture, the  Practical  Part,  with  all  the  Latest 
Iniprovuiiients,  by  John  Wilson,  Esq. ; 
Agricultural  Chtuii-try.  by  Tliom.is  .\n- 
dersou,    M.  D. ;  .\fgUunistuii,  and   several 


other  Articles  on  India,  by  Edward  Thorn- 
ton, Esq. ;  .'Eschylus,  by  John  Stuart 
Blackie.  Esq.,  Professor  of  Greek  ii^  the 
University  of  Edinburgh;  Addison,  bv 
William  Spalding,  Esq.,  Professor  of  Rheto'- 
ric  in  the  University  of  St.  Andrews ; 
Africa,  by  Augustus  Peterniann,  Esq. 
Other  now  articles  for  future  volumes  are 
now  in  progress.  Among  these  may  be 
mentioned : — .\tterbury,  by  the  Right 
Hon.  Thomas  Babingtou  Macaulay,  M.  P. ; 
Botany,  by  John  Hutton  Balfour,  M.  D., 
F.R.S.E.,  Professor  of  Botany  in  the  Uni- 
versity of  F^iliuburgh  ;  Arnold,  by  Rev. 
William  Lindsay  Alexander,  D.  1).,  itc. ; 
and  on  the  Progress  of  Mathematical  and 
Physical  Science  during  the  Nineteenth 
Century,  by  James  D.  Forbes,  Professor  of 
Natural  Plulosophy  in  the  University  of 
Edinburgh.  All  the  articles  will  be 
brought  up  to  the  present  advanced  state 
of  knowledge.  The  work  will  be  com- 
pleted in  twenty-one  volumes. 

The  "  Cyi-li'jxrilia  Bihlioyraphica"  (Lon- 
don, Janij's  Darling)  has  reached  its 
eighth  number,  (to  the  letter  G.)  Wo  are 
the  more  tonfirmed  by  each  successive 
number  of  this  uork  in  our  judgment 
before  expressed,  that  its  title  is  far  too 
ambitions  fur  its  matter,  au'd  that  in  at- 
tempting  too  much  it  really  succeeds  in 


1853.] 


Classical  and  Miscellaneous. 


487 


no  single  feature  of  a  good  Bibliographical 
Dictionarj-.  It  is  nothing  more  than  a 
catalogue  of  a  tolerably  large  theological 
library,  with  a  few  names  of  writers  in 
general  literature.  Its  only  real  value 
beyond  other  extant  manuals,  consists  in 
the  fact  that  it  gives  tablts  of  co)ilent>i  to 
each  writer,  where  it  is  practicable. 

The  second  volume  of  Bunsen's  "  Eij'jpt's 
Place  in  Univcrial  History"  containinjr  the 
second  and  third  volumes  of  the  original 
German  edition,  is  just  announced  by 
Longmans,  London.  Tlie  third  and  con- 
cluding volume  is  also  preparing  for  pub- 
lication. 

Messrs.  B.  'V\'est<;rmann  it  Co.,  New-York, 
have  commenced  the  publication  of  a  very 
convenient  Llteranj  BuHitin,  which  they 
furnish  gratis,  by  mail,  to  all  who  desire 
it.  It  contains  a  list  of  the  latest  German 
books  in  every  department  of  literature, 
as  received  by  each  steamer,  and  kept  on 
hand  by  the  Messrs.  Westermann. 

The  volumes  of  Bohn's  Libraries  for 
Miiy  are  the  following  : — The  Illustrated 
Library  :  Norway  and  its  Scenery  ;  com- 
prising the  Journal  of  Edward  Price,  and 
a  Road  Book  for  Tourists,  edited  and 
Compiled  by  Forester,  12rao. — Humphrey 
W.  Noel's  Coin  Collector's  Manual ;  2  vols., 
12mo.— The  Standard  Library:  Delolme 
on  the  Constitution,  edited  by  Macgregor; 
12mo. — The  Classical  Library  :  Diogenes 
Laertius,  by  Youge  ;  ll?uio. — The  Anti- 
quarian Library:  King  Alfred,  and  his 
Tositiuu  in  English  History,  by  Dr.  R. 
Pauli;  12mo. 

Amoxg  the  new  works  announced  in 
Great  Britain  are  the  following : — Hypa- 
tia  ;  or,  New  Foes  with  au  Old  Face.  By 
C.  Kingsley,  Rector  of  Evcrsley.  2  vols., 
post  Svo. : — Critical  Biographies  of  rublic 
Men.  By  George  Henrv  Francis.  Sir 
Robert  Peel,  Bart.,  The' Right  Hon.  B. 
D'Israeii,  Henry  Lord  Brougham.  Small 
Octavo  : — Memoir,  Physical,  Historical, 
and  Nautical,  on  the  Mediterranean  Sea. 
By  "\V.  H.  Smyth,  R.  N.,  D.  C.  L.,  Foreign 
Secretary  of  the  Royal  Society.  Svo. : — 
Goethe's  Opinions  on  the  World,  Mankind, 
Literature,  Science,  and  Art,  extracted 
from  his  Communications  and  Correspond- 
ence : — The  Poems  of  Goethe,  translated 
in  the  Ori-iual  Metres,  preceded  bv  a 
Sketch  of  Goethe's  Life.  By  Edgar  AltV.  d 
Bowring: — The  Poems  of  Schiller,  in  En- 
glish Verse.  By  Edgar  A.  Bowriu^' : — 
Propertius,  with  English  Notes.  I'.y  F.  A. 
Paley,  Editor  of  "  ^ilschylus.''  Svo. : — 
The  Educational  Institutions  of  the  United 
States  :  their  Character  and  Organization. 


Translated  from  the  Swedisli  of  Dr.  P.  A. 
Siljistrum,  by  Frederica  Rowan.  Post 
Svo. :: — The  Rise  and  Progress  of  National 
Education  in  England :  its  Obstacles, 
■Wants,  and  Prospects  ;  a  Letter  to  Richard 
Cobden,  Esq.,  M.  P.,  By  Richard  Church. 
Svo.,  |>aper  : — Historical  Outlines  of  Politi- 
cal Catholicism;  its  Papacy,  Prelacy, 
Pricstiiodd,  People.  Demy  Svo.: — Chamois 
Hunting  in  the  Mountains  of  Bavaria.  By 
Charles  iioner.  With  Illustrations.  Dsmy 
Svo. : — Montenegro,  and  the  Slavonians  of 
Turkey.  By  Count  Valerian  Krasinski, 
Author  of  the  "Religious  History  of  the 
Slavonic  Nations,"  kc.  Fcap. : — The  Diary 
of  Martha  liethune  Baliol  from  17.7)3  to 
17ot.  Post  Svo. : — Language  as  a  Cleans 
of  Mental  Culture  and  Internalional  Com- 
muiiicafion  ;  or,  A  Manual  of  the  Teacher 
and  Learner  of  Languages.  By  C.  Marcel. 
2  vols,  crown  Svo.,  cloth  : — The  Stones  of 
Venice.  By  John  Ruskin.  Vol.  2,  Imperial 
Svo.,  with  numerous  Illustrations: — Mem- 
orandums made  in  Ireland,  in  the  Autumn 
of  1S.32.  By  John  Forbes,  M.  D.,  Author 
of  the  "  Physician's  Holiday,"  2  vols, 
post  Svo.: — The  Bhilsa  Topes;  or,  Budd- 
hist ^luiiumcnts  of  Central  Imlia.  By 
Major  A.  Cunningham.  1  vol.  Svo. : — -The 
Theory  aud  Practice  of  Cast-e.  By  B.  A. 
Irving.  Esq.  1  vol.  post  Svo. : — The  Ileconi- 
niendatiuns  of  the  Oxford  University  Com- 
mission.TS  ;  with  Selections  from  their  Re- 
port, and  a  History  of  the  University  Sub- 
seripti.m  Tests:  including  Notices  of  the 
U)ii\ersity  and  CoU.'-iate  Visitations.  By 
J;iaics  H.'ywood,  M.  P.,  F.  R.  S.,  of  Trinitv 
Collfge,  Cambridge.  Svo. :— The  History 
of  Scotland,  from  tlie  Revolution  to  the 
Extinction  uf  the  last  Jacobite  Insurrec- 
tion ^l(]^;l-17tSi.  By  John  Hill  Burton, 
Author  of  "Tiie  Life  of  David  Hume."  .tc, 
2  vols.  Svo.:— The  Fall  of  the  Roman  Re- 
liublie:  a  Short  History  of  the  Last  Cen- 
tury of  the  Commonwealth.  Bv  the  Rev. 
Cliarles  Merivale,  B.  D.,  late  Fellow  of  St. 
John's  College,  Cambridge,  Author  of 
"  History  of  the  Romans  under  the  Em- 
jiire."  12mo.  : — The  Autobiography  of  B. 
R."Hay<lon,  Historical  Painter.  Edited, 
and  continued  to  the  Time  of  his  Death 
from  his  own  Journals,  by  Tom  Taylor, 
M.  A.,  of  the  Inner  Temple,  Esq. ;  late  Fel- 
low of  Trinity  College,  Cambridge,  and 
late  Professor  of  the"  English  Language 
and  I-iterature  in  University  Coll.-ge, 
London.  3  vols,  post  Svo. : — Hebrew  Poli- 
tics in  the  Times  of  Sargon  aud  Sen- 
nacherib: an  Inquiry  into  the  Historical 
^Meaning  and  Purpose  of  the  Prophecies 
of  Isaiah,  with  some  Notice  of  their  Bear- 
ings on  the  ."Social  and  Political  Life  of 


488 


Religious  and  Literary  Intelligence. 


[July. 


England.  By  E.  Strachey,  Es,].  Rvo.  :— 
Mount  Lebanon :  A  Ten  Years'  Resi- 
dence, from  1S42  to  1852  ;  witli  liescriiv 
tive  Sketches  of  its  Scenery,  rroduotioiis, 
A-c. ;  the  ^fanners  and  Custom';  of  its  In- 
habitants, particularly  of  the  IVuses  and 
Maronites,  and  a  Full  and  Correct  Account 
of  the  Druse  Reliijion,  Historical  llecords 
of  the  Mountain  Tribes,  from  IVrsonal  In- 
terconrse  with  their  Chiefs,  and  other 
Authentic  Sources.  By  Colonel  Churchill, 
Staff  OUicer  on  the  British  Exjicdition  to 
Syria.  3  vols..  8vo. :— A  Visit  to  M.xico, 
with  Sketches  of  the  West  India  Islands, 
Yucatan,  and  United  States.  By  ^\■illi;lnl 
Parish  Robertson,  author  of  "Bet- 
ters on  Paraguay."  2  vols. : — Lord  Bacon 
and  Sir  Walter  Raleigh  ;  Critical  and  Bio- 
graphical Essays.  By  Macvey  Napier, 
Esq.,  late  Editor  of  the  Edinburgh  Re- 
view. Post  Svo. : — .Eschyli  Emucnidcs. 
The  Greek  text,  ^^ith  English  notes  :  with 
an  Introduction,  containini,'  the  substance 
of  Muller's  Dissertations  and  the  IXscus- 
sions  of  his  Critics;  and  an  English  Me- 
trical Translation.  By  B.  Drake,  M-.  A., 
Fellow  of  King's  College,  Cambridge,  Edi- 
tor of  "  Demosthenes  de  Corona."  8vo., 
cloth : — The  Frontier  Lands  of  the  Chris- 
tian and  the  Turk;  couU'rising  Trav- 
els in  the  Regions  of  the  Lov.er  Dan- 
ube, in  1850  and  1S51.  By  a  British 
Resident  of  twenty  years  in  the  East. 
2  vols.,  Svo.  :— a"  History  of  the  Pa- 
pacy to  the  Period  of  the  Rcfurmation. 
Founded  upon  the  German  of  Pl.inck's 
"Geschichte  Des  Papsthums."'  By  Itev. 
J.  E.  Riddle,  author  of  the  "  Bampton 
Lectures,"  and  "The  Latin  Dictionary." 
2  vols.,  Svo. 

Among  the  new  works  in  miscellaneous 
literature  recently  announced  osi  the  con- 
tinent of  Europe  are  the  fo^lo^villg : — 

Histoire  de  la  Monarchic  in  Europe,  dc- 
puis  son  origine  jusqu'a  no?  jours  ;  par  M. 
Francis  Lacvmb'-.  Tome  ler.  Fonnation 
des  royautes  europeennes.     tivo. 

Histoire  des  classes  laborienscs,  prd-ced^e 
d'un  essai  sur  I'economie  industriclle  et 


sociale  ;  par  A.  Jaume,  instituteur  primaire 
superieur  a  Toulon.     Svo. 

Secret  Politique  de  Napoleon  ;  par //of;ie 
Wrumki.  Comme  introduction  a  sa  recente 
Philosophic  de  I'histoire.  Nouvelle  edition, 
Svo. 

Complement  du  Grand  dictionnaire  des 
dictionnaires  francais  de  Napoleon  Lan- 
dais,  renfcrmant,  etc.  Ouvrage  qui  met  le 
Grand  dictionnaire  au  niveau  des  diction- 
naires speciaux,  etc.  Par  nne  societe  de 
savants,  de  grammariensetd'ecrivains,sous 
la  direction  de  MiL  D.  Chesurolles  et  L. 
Bane.     4  to. 

Cours  complet  de  langue  universclle, 
offrant  en  meme  temps  nn  niethode  facile 
efc  sure  pour  apprendre  les  langues,  et  pour 
comparer,  en  quelques  mois,  toutes  les  lit- 
teratures  mortes  et  vivantes  ;  par  C.  L.  A. 
Lctellier.    Ire  partie.    Grammaire.    Svo. 

Cuke  (le)  des  morts  chez  les  principanx 
peuples  anciens  et  modernes,  avec  la  de- 
scription des  divers  monuments  fiinebres  ; 
par  I'nhhc  Simon.     12mo. 

Odisch-magnetische  Briefe  von  Karl 
Frhru.  V.  Rdchcnbach,  Ph.  Dr.  Stuttgart: 
1852;  199  pp.,  Svo. 

Hellas.  Yortriige  iiber  Heimath,  Ge- 
schichte, Literatur  und  Kunst  dor  Hellenen 
von  Friedr.  Jacobs.  Aus  dcm  handschrift- 
lichen  Xachlass  des  Verfassers  herausgeg. 
von  E.  F.  Wiistcmann.  Berlin  :  1852  ;  438 
pp.,  Svo. 

Commentationis  criticae  de  Anthologia 
Graeca  pars  prior.  Scripsit  A!2>h.  Heckcr, 
litt.  hum.  Dr.  phil.  th.  Mag.  Lugd.  Bat., 
MIX:CCLII.     Mil,  u.  357  pp.,  Svo. 

Vorlesungen  uber  die  Geschichte  der 
neueren  Philosophic.  Yon  I)r.  K.  Fischer. 
1.  Bd. :  Die  Philosophic  von  Cartesius  bis 
Spinoza.  1.  Abth. :  Eiuleitung  in  das 
Studium  der  Philosophie.  Cartesius,  Geu- 
lincx,Malebranche.  Stuttgart:  1853;  231 
pp.,  Svo. 

Examen  de  la  philosophie  de  Bacon,  ou 
I'on  traite  differentes  questions  de  philoso- 
phie rationnelle.  Ouvrage  posthume  du 
comte  Jos.  da  Maistre.  2  vols.  Lyon: 
1852  ;  pp.  354,  Svo, 


THE 

METHODIST  Q^UARTERLY  EEYIEW. 

OCTOBER,  1853. 


Art.  I.— the  BACON  OF  THE  NINETEENTH  CENTUEY. 

tSfXO.VD  1'A.rER.] 

The  task  of  presenting  a  satisfactory  alleviation  for  the  difficulties 
of  the  sixteenth  centuiy  was  reserved  for  Francis  Bacon— the  father 
of  an  Instauration  greater  than  any  Mhich  preceded  it,  because  it 
■was  the  last.  AVe  should  not  be  justified  in  regarding  Bacon  as 
the  equal  of  Aristotle,  if  we  compare  the  two  together.  Neither 
in  versatility  nor  in  coraprehcnsiveness  can  he  be  legitimately 
esteemed  as  on  a  par  with  his  predecessor;  while  the  circumstances 
of  his  life,  perhaps  even  more  than  the  temper  of  his  mind,  denied 
him  that  habit  of  thorough,  minute,  and  sustained  observation,  that 
patient  sobriety  of  judgment,  that  graceful  and  felicitous  negligence 
of  all  ostentation,  which  arc  so  miraculuusly  blended  with  the  massive 
speculation  of  the  earlier  philosopher.  The  single  epithet  of  Intellect, 
by  which  Tlato  happily  characterised  Aristotle,  is  preeminently 
appropriate  to  him,  and  to  him  alone.  He  was  the  intellect  in  its 
purest  and  simplest  fonn,  with  a  full  mastery  of  all  its  various  powers ; 
free  from  weakness  and  without  alloy.  I'nseduced  by  the  ima^nna-- 
tion,  though  no  stranger  to  its  inspiration ;  untainted  by  paslion, 
though  susceptible  of  all  healthy  and  legitimate  emotion ;  without 
enthusiasm,  though  guided  by  a  steady  philosophic  ardour;  he  was 
the  perfect  embodiment  of  the  calm,  self-sustamin"-,  sober,  dis- 
criminating, and  all  embracing  mind.  To  this  elevation  Bacon 
never  attained :  but  though  inferior  in  the  highest  qualities  of  thought 
and  feeling  to  his  unrivalled  predecessor,  he  had  the  advanta2e°of 
living  in  a  later  and  a  more  favourable  age — anageof  vi'^orous  intellec- 
tual development.  He  had  thus  the  vantage  ground  of  past  centuries 
to  stand  upon,  and  the  expanding  thought  of  the  coming  generation 
to  hail  and  extend  his  dominion.  Tiie  effect  which  he  produced 
was  thus  more  sensible,  and  his  influence  wider,  more  immediate, 
and  more  operative,  than  even  in  the  case  of  Abelard.  He  became 
Fourth  Sekiks,  Vol.  V.— 31 


'490  The  Bacon  of  the  Nineteenth  Century.         [October, 

at  once,  and  still  remains,  the  undoubted  parent  of  modem  science, 
and  of  all  the  great  discoveries  to  \vliich  the  modem  intellect  lays 
claim,  and  of  which  it  mv^\t  be  so  justly  proud,  if  it  did  not  suffer 
itself  to  be  dazzled  by  the  brilliancy  and  extent  of  its  empire.  It  is 
only  at  this  late  day  that  a  competitor  has  arisen  to  dispute  the 
continued  reign  of  Eacon;  but  M.  Comte  recognises  him  as  the  legis- 
lator of  his  philosophy,  and  the  claim  has  been  alleged  by  the  eager 
followers  of  the  great  Positivist,  not  by  himself — and  still  remains 
to  be  substantiated.  To  aid  in  the  settlement  of  this  claim  is  our 
object;  and  to  inform  the  judgment  of  our  readers,  we  proceed  to 
examine  the  characteristics  of  the  Baconian  reform  with  the  same 
sobriety  and  impartiality  which  we  have  endeavoured  to  exercise 
in  the  analysis  of  the  careers  of  Aristotle  and  Abelard. 

The  universality  contemplated  by  the  Baconian  Instauration  is 
the  first  of  its  features  to  be  noticed.  It  designed  a  chart  of  the 
intellectual  globe,  and  criticised  all  learning  and  all  knowledge. 
It  scrutinized  tiio  practical  as  well  as  the  theoretical,  and  proposed 
the  improvement,  tlie  extension,  and  the  expansion  of  both.  There 
was  no  exclusive  partiality  for  any  one  form  of  human  development, — 
no  unjust  derogation  from  the  dignity,  validity,  and  importance  of 
any  other :  but  the  harmonious  reconstmction  of  all  speculation  was 
desired  as  a  ]»reparation  for  a  more  enlightened,  efficient,  and  success- 
ful practical  procedure.  If  tlio  scholastic  misapplication  of  logic 
was  severely  censured,  its  due  claims  were  confidently  asserted; 
and,  though  the  necessities  of  the  times,  no  less  than  existing  abuses, 
directed  the  attention  and  the  labours  of  Bacon  principally  to  natural 
science,  the  superior  dignity  of  moral  and  religious  truth,  and  the 
higher  authority  of  the  Aristotelian  logic  are  uniformly  and  steadily 
maintained  by  him.  His  pliilosophy,  when  received  in  a  large  and 
congenial  spirit,  will  bo  found  to  be  equally  removed  from  the  one- 
sided exclusivencss  of  transcendental  rationalism,  and  from  the 
narrow  insufficiency  of  mere  empiricism.  It  embraces  in  harmonious 
union  the  sober  truth  of  cither  extreme,  and  duly  subordinates  all 
human  thought  to  the  over-ruling  supremacy  of  a  revealed  religion. 
Taking  the  familiar  division  of  knowledge  into  ethical  and  physical 
science,  it  is  true  that  Bacon  concerned  himself  principally  with  the 
Latter,  and  most  assiduously  attempted  its  development.  He  did 
so,  however,  Avithout  forgetting,  denying,  or  neglecting  the  former; 
and  employed  his  talents  in  this  direction  because  physical  science 
was  at  that  time  the  most  diseased,  and  the  most  inefficient,  in 
consequence  of  tiie  misapplication  of  syllogistic  logic  to  its  investiga- 
tion. But  physical  science  was  never  pursued  by  Bacon  for  its  own 
sake,  nor  ever  regarded  by  him  as  of  itself  the  legitimate  end  of 


1 853.]  The  Bacon  of  the  Nineteenth  Century.  491 

kno\\-ledge.  \\c  are  a^vare  that  this  judgment  of  the  Baconian 
philosophy  is  not  exactly  consonant  with  the  superficial  fallacies 
current  upon  the  subject;  but  it  has  been  the  fashion  for  men,  like 
Macaulay,  to  declaim  magisterially  respecting  productions  of  ■which 
they  had  read  only  scattered  fragments,  and  to  be  listened  to  with 
a  stupid  credulity.  The  great  merit  of  Bacon  s  intellectual  renova- 
tion is,  that  it  rejects  no  part  of  human  knowledge,  conceived  or 
conceivable ;  that  it  proposes  to  render  the  barren  places  of  specula- 
tion productive  by  a  better  culture,  and  to  retain  with  a  firm  hand 
and  under  better  management  all  old  acquisitions,  while  extending, 
by  the  aid  of  a  more  efficacious  procedure,  the  frontiers  of  science, 
and  bringing  under  its  jurisdiction  territories  as  yet  unknown  and 
undiscovered. 

^ye  next  notice  the  manner  in  wliich  the  proposed  reform  was 
undertaken.  The  cn-ors  to  be  corrected,  as  the  false  philosophy 
to  be  supplanted,  had  sprung  in  great  measure  from  misappre- 
hension of  the  narrowness  of  the  special  domain  of  scholastic  logic, 
and  from  the  misapplication  of  the  syllogistic  or  deductive  method 
to  those  physical  inquiries  to  which  it  was  singularly  inappropriate, 
and  in  regard  to  which  it  had  been  sedulously,  though  not  altogether 
methodically,  renounced  by  Aristotle  and  the  more  profound  sages 
of  antiquity.  In  instituting  a  new  method,  or  rather  in  giving 
novel  prominence  and  a  more  decided  type  to  an  old  one,  a  more 
correct  logical  procedure  was  required  for  the  prosecution  of  scientific 
studies.  The  deductive  method  was  to  be  chiefly  and  primarily 
confined  to  moral  or  ethical  speculations,  and  nature  Avas  to  be  in- 
vestigated, and  the  general  laws  of  her  action  discovered,  not  by  the 
new,  but  by  the  newly  revived  and  more  clearly  apprehended  in- 
strumentality of  induction.  Induction  itself,  as  a  formal  mode  of 
reasoning,  was  neither  invented,  discovered,  nor  first  expounded  by 
Bacon.  Aristotle  gives  Socrates  the  credit  of  its  first  scientific 
recognition.  It  was  largely  employed  by  Aristotle  in  his  Zoological 
works  and  in  his  Political  inquiries :  its  conditions  were  examined 
by  the  Scholiasts,*  and  in  the  eleventh  century  by  Joannes  Italus  ;t 

°  David.  Trolegg.  Porph.  Int.  Sohol.  Arlstot.,  p.  IS,  a.  36,  Alex.  Aphrod.  SchoU 
p.  bSo,  b.  40;  p.  oi(3,  a.  20. 

f  la-i.  6e  tC)v  dtaAEKrinutv  arzodei^tDv  c'nirj  Jio,  to  jikv  iirayuyi},  to  de  av7.- 
?.o-/icu6r,  K.  T.  />..,  cit.  Waitz.  Ed.  Organon,  vol.  i,  p.  19.  It  Las  been  maintained 
by  Macaulay,  and  his  position  is  in  some  degree  justified  by  Bacon's  own  ex- 
pressions, that  the  induction  of  the  ancients  was  different  from  that  of  Bacon, 
and  merely  a  simple  comparison  of  instances ;  but  this  is  disproved  by  Aristotle, 
Metaph.  xii,  iv,  p.  107S,  and  by  the  above  passajre  of  Joannes  Italus,  which  con- 
tinues to  criticise  the  inductive  process  in  the  manner  and  with  the  aeuteness  of 
Sir  \Vm.  Hamilton,  (discussions,  &c.,  p.  1G4,)  anticipating  his  distinctions. 


492  The  Bacon  of  the  Nineteenth  Century.        [October, 

it  "SYas  distinctly  enunciated,  and  the  merits  of  experimentation  in 
particular  -were  profoundly  ap])reciated  by  Roger  Bacon;  but  to 
the  sage  of  Verulam  unquestionabl}^  belongs  the  great  merit  of 
methodizing  and  developing  its  powers,  and  exhibiting  their  peculiar 
and  exclusive  aptitude  for  investigating  the  mysteries  of  nature, 
and  establishing  the  general  facts  of  observation  and  experience. 
It  was  neither  accident,  nor  a  loose  affectation  -which  dictated  the 
title  of  the  Novum  Organon.  It  vras  a  new  Organon ;  not  a  sub- 
stitute for  the  old,  but  supplementary  to  it ;  an  extension  of  logic, 
mider  a  slight,  but  important  modification,  into  a  realm  of  new 
conquests.  The  New  Orgaiwn  bore  the  same  relation  to  the 
seventeenth  century,  that  the  first  Organon  did  to  the  age  of  Aristotle. 
In  both  instances,  the  general  reorganization  of  the  intellectual  world 
was  consciously  attempted  by  the  instrumentality*  of  a  distinctly 
apprehended  logical  reform,  which  introduced  a  more  methodic,  a 
better  regulated,  and  a  more  comprehensive  scheme  of  logic  than 
had  prevailed  before.  Of  both  it  may  be  said,  that  they  did  not 
merely  purify  and  extend  the  domain  of  speculation,  but  that  they 
added 

Nova  nomina  rcbus.j 

The  designation  of  Bacon  s  great  work  was  thus  selected  by  an 
unerring  instinct;  and  as  this  constitutes  the  great  axis  upon  which 
his  whole  philosophy  revolves,  so  the  peculiar  significance  and  the 
remarkable  efiiciency  of  the  Great  Instauration  resides  principally 
in  the  logical  reform  v,  liioii  he  inaugurated.  Subsequent  generations, 
misled  by  the  splendid  results  of  the  application  of  induction  to 
physical  research,  and  by  a  misapprehension  of  the  general  scope 
of  Bacon's  writings,  have  regarded  the  Organon  of  Aristotle  as 
supplanted  by  the  ISew  Instrument,  and  have  thus  fallen  into  an 
error,  the  opposite  of  that  of  tiie  schoolmen,  from  which  the  world 
had  been  rescued  by  the  great  philosopher.  They  have  rejected  the 
syllogism  with  derision,  and  have  slighted  the  branches  of  knowl- 
edge with  which  it  is  more  esj)ecially  conversant,  pursuing  steadily 
a  fragmentary  development,  until  they  are  again  entangled  in  the 
lab3'rinths  of  their  own  wilful  abeiTations.  In  our  own  opinion, 
we  think  that  the  nineteenth  century  might  almost  dispense  with  a 
new  Bacon  and  a  new  Instauration,  if  it  would  adhere  to  the  old,  and 

^  The  Organon  of  Aristotle  reeeivfj  its  designation  from  the  function  ■which 
logic  subserves  as  the  instrument  of  the  niind  in  reasoning,  David.  Int.  x,  Cat. 
Schol.  Aristot.,  p.  2'>,  a.  1 ;  p.  2G,  a.  12,  and  I'hiloponus,  ibid.,  p.  37,  b.  4G;  also 
Waitz.  Org.,  vol.  ii,  Comm.,  p.  293-4.  Aristotle  uses  the  same  illustration  of  the 
hand  which  is  employed  in  the  opening  Aphorisms  of  the  Novum  Organon. 

I  Claudian.,  De  Ilaptu  Proserpime,  lib.  ii,  v.  371. 


1853.]  The  Bacon  of  the  Nineteenth  Century.  493 

fairly  comprehend  them  in  their  integrity  and  totality.  And  yet, 
this  Avould  be  nearly  equivalent  to  another  Instauration,  for  it  would 
transfer  to  the  nineteenth  century  the  realization  and  completion  of 
that  undertaken  in  the  seventeenth.  Indeed,  it  is  ditllcult  to  conceive 
any  philosophical  scheme  to  which  the  present  age  is  adequate,  or 
which  is  required  by  its  actual  -wants,  ^vhich  would  not  be  embraced 
in  a  complete  revision,  purification,  and  extension  of  the  method  of 
Bacon,  and  its  cordial  union  Avilh  that  of  Aristotle,  of  which  Bacon 
sometimes  spoke  sliglitlngly,  though  he  never  presumed  to  discard  it. 
And  the  instinctive  perception  of  this  truth  seems  to  have  dictated 
that  urgent  prescription  of  the  combination  of  the  synthetic  and 
anal^'tic  method,  the  inductive  and  the  deductive,  which,  though  not 
original  with  him,*  and  only  partial,  from  its  exclusion  of  all  formal 
logic,  so  strikingly  characterizes  M.  Comte's  Systcme  de  Politique 
Positive. 

In  speaking  of  the  refonn  of  Lord  Bacon,  v.'C  have  not  mentioned 
the  name  of  Descartes,  which  is  generally  held  in  even  higher 
estimation  by  the  French  and  Continental  philosophers.  We  have 
intentionally  disregarded  him ;  becuuse,  however  eminent  his  merit 
in  applying  the  principles  of  tlic  l^aconian  reform  to  metaphysical 
subjects,  and  however  great  his  special  services  to  science,  be  afforded 
merely  a  partial  type  of  that  refonn,  was  largely  infected  with  the 
erroneous  procedure  of  the  sclioohnen,  and  was  indebted  to  Bacon 
for  the  fundamental  ideas,  which  he  borrowed  without  acknowl- 
edgment.! Moreover,  wc  do  not  hesitate  to  say  that  the  physical 
hypotheses  of  Descartes  impeded  his  science  more  than  his 
mathematical  discoveries  advanced  it;  and  that  his  arbitrary  meta- 
physical assumptions  extended  the  most  pernicious  influences  of 
the  schoolmen  to  our  own  times,  and  furnished  the  germ  for  the 
deceptive  rationalism  of  the  German  transcendentalists,  which  has 
throAvn  such  an  impenetrable  haze  over  all  real  knowledge.  We  do 
not  desire  to  detract  from  the  eminent  merits  of  Descartes,  but  his 
only  claim  to  the  possession  of  a  place  by  the  side  of  Bacon  is  his 
possession  of  somcwliat  similar  qualities  in  an  inferior  degree ;  and 
the  only  mode  of  accounting  for  the  preeminence  which  has  been 
assigned  to  him  is  by  attributing  it  io  national  vanity  in  the  first 
instance,  and  to  ignorance  of  ]5acon's  writings  in  the  second. 

"  "A  combination  of  analysis  aii'l  synthesis  is  the  condition  of  a  perfect 
knowledge."  Sir  AVni.  Ilamiltrtn,  Dipoussions,  &c.,  p.  6Sr>.  This  principle  may 
be  traced  in  Kant,  Crit.  dc  la  liaison  I'rat.,  p.  11 ;  in  Bacon,  and  even  in  Aristotle 
and  bis  Commentators. 

■j-  Y.  Edinb.  Rev.,  Jan.,  lSr/2.  For  other  plagiarisms  of  Descartes,  sec  same 
article,  and  Leibnitz,  Op.  torn,  v,  pp.  393-5. 


494  The  Bacon  of  the  Nineteenth  Century.  [October, 

It  is  significant  of  the  efficiency  of  Bacon's  labours,  -which  -were 
Buggestive,  not  systematic,  that  they  almost  immediately  manifested 
their  general  and  beneficial  influences  in  satisfying  the  principal 
necessities  of  the  times.  Physical  science  received  a  potent  impulse, 
which  has  prolonged  its  cfiects  till  in  our  day  they  have  become 
dangerous :  commerce,  industry,  and  the  mechanic  arts  were  developed 
Avith  unexampled  success :  political,  religious,  and  moral  speculations 
manifested  a  new  energy,  if  not  a  similar  advancement.*  The  age 
of  Bacon  was  one  of  remarkable  excitation  in  all  departments  of 
human  theoi-y  and  practice.  All  convictions  were  unsettled,  as  may 
be  evinced  b}^  the  essays  of  ^Montaigne,  to  look  no  deeper.  The 
civil  and  religious  wars  of  France  and  the  German  empire,  as  soon 
afterward  the  Great  Kcbellion  in  England,  together  with  the  re- 
markable literature  of  the  close  of  the  sixteenth  and  first  half  of 
the  seventeenth  centuries,  indicate  a  moral,  a  religious,  a  political, 
and  an  intellectuul  disturbance,  which  constitute  a  partial  parallel 
to  the  disorganization  by  which  we  are  now  surrounded.  Religious 
confusion  had  sprung  from  intellectual  error,  and  each  had  aggravated 
the  other;  while  from  both  united  had  proceeded  the  habitual  dis- 
regard of  morals,  and  the  political  disorder  which  aftlicted  those 
generations.  The  Baconian  philosophy  distinctly  contemplated 
moral,  political,  and  social  amelioration  as  the  consequence  of  an 
improved  logical  method :  and  it  were  well,  in  the  present  fever  of 
rabid  innovation,  to  recur  to  the  sober  and  profound  suggestions  of 
Bacon  on  the  subject  of  healthy  reform. 

But  the  most  important  of  all  the  characteristics  of  Lord  Bacon's 
wi-itings  is  the  euiincntly  religious  and  Christian  spirit  with  which 
they  are  so  deeply  imbued.  If  he  projected  a  new  scheme  of  scientific 
procedure  to  probe  the  m.ysteries  of  nature  and  multiply  the  miracles 
of  art,  it  was  with  the  confident  hope  that  the  increase  of  knowledge 
and  the  extension  of  art  might  illustrate  the  perfections,  and  tend 
to  the  greater  glory  of  God.  The  same  predominance  of  a  religious 
aim  is  manifested  constantly  by  him,  which  presided  over  the  wonder- 
ful elaboration  of  Aristotle,  and  the  brilliant  but  erratic  career  of 
Abelard.  In  none  of  these  great  men  is  there  any  trace  of  that 
supercilious  impatience  of  the  supreme  authority  of  rehgion,  or 
any  indication  of  that  desire  to  elevate  human  reason  into  the  sole, 
self-sufiicient  legislator  of  the  universe,  which  so  fatally  corrodes  all 
our  modern  systems  of  intellectual  reform. 

When  we  consider  retrospectively  the  Baconian  philosophy,  its 

**  To  give  one  example  for  all,  it  may  sufHce  to  mention  that  the  gieat  treatise 
of  Grotius,  De  Jure  ilflli  et  Pucis,  waa  coafcsscdlj'  instigated  by  Lord  Bacon's 
•writings. 


1853.]  The  Bacon  of  the  Nineteenth  Century.  495 

principles,  its  influence,  and  its  fortunes,  we  may  readily  detect  its 
imperfections,  and  the  sources  of  its  injurious  eflects,  as  of  late 
displayed.  But  if  we  place  ourselves  in  the  age  of  Bacon,  and 
appreciate  the  condition,  the  appetencies,  the  errors,  and  the  ^yants 
of  that  period,  we  may  safely  say,  that  no  plan  was  ever  devised  by 
human  wisdom  more  admirably  calculated  to  alleviate  existing  evils, 
or  to  generate  a  lon^;  heritage  of  positive  good. 

We  had  nearly  forgotten  to  mention  among  the  prominent  char- 
acteristics of  the  procedure  of  Aristotle,  Abelard,  and  Bacon,  the 
intimate  dependence  of  each  new  instauration  upon  the  previous 
forms  of  philosophy.  There  is  no  forced  originahty,  no  violent 
revolt  from  the  associations  of  the  past,  no  aQectation  of  entire 
novelty,  no  rupture  of  the  continuity  of  human  development.  We 
have  already  exhibited  the  regular  gradations  by  which  the  crude 
theories  of  early  Greece  ascended  to  the  lofty  amplitude  of  the  Aris- 
totelian doctrine;  we  have  seen,  too,  how  Abelard  clung  to  the 
instructions  of  Aristotle,  and  a  close  study  of  his  life  and  philosophy 
reveals  how  eagerly  he  clutched  at  the  floating  fragments  of  Platon- 
ism  and  New  Platonism,  which,  in  the  general  wreck  of  leai^iing, 
were  floated  within  his  reach  by  the  capricious  eddies  of  mediaeval 
times.  When  we  come  to  Bacon,  this  union  Avith  the  past  is  not  so 
perceptible,  in  consequence  of  his  apparent  profession  of  originality, 
of  the  sedulous  care  with  which  he  obliterated  the  signs  of  his  indebt- 
edness, and  the  almost  unbroken  ignorance  which  has  long  prevailed 
relative  to  the  middle  ages  and  to  the  immediate  precursors  of  Bacon. 
Yet  his  actual  relation  to  the  schoolmen  and  to  his  less  remote  pre- 
decessors, is  even  more'  close  and  more  remarkable  than  in  the  case 
of  either  Abelard  or  Aristotle.  We  leave  the  proof  of  this  state- 
ment for  a  more  suitable  occasion;  but  the  evidence  is  so  abundant, 
so  minute,  so  various,  and  so  conclusive,  that,  if  exhibited  in  extenso, 
a  loose  thinker  might  find  it  difficult  to  recognise  the  real  originality 
of  Lord  Bacon,  which  consists  not  so  much  in  any  special  sugges- 
tion of  his  philosophy  as  in  the  accm-acy,  the  sobriety,  the  profun- 
dity, with  which  all  that  is  useless  or  pernicious  is  rejected,  and  the 
amazinn-  delicacy  and  comprehensive  vigour  with  which  all  that  is 
valuable  is  elucidated,  mcthodi'/ed,  and  enforced.  "We  havd  no  hesi- 
tation in  assigning  to  Roger  Bacon  the  entire  honours  of  the  con- 
ception of  the  experimental  philoso])liy ;  and  in  declaring  that  Francis 
of  Verulam  owed  the  magnitude  of  his  fame  mainly  to  his  historical 
position.  But  still,  both  the  fame  and  the  position  were  won  in 
consequence  of  his  just  appreciation  and  cordial  adoption  of  all  that 
was  best  in  the  past ;  and  it  was  the  due  reward  of  a  constant  intel- 
lectual elaboration,  in  obedience  to  such  inspiration,  that  he  merited 


496  The  Bacon  of  the  Nineteenth  Century.        [October, 

tlie  high,  but  not  very  poetical,  tribute  of  Dryden,  -which  has  been 
continually  repeated  in  the  more  critical  language  of  prose : — 

"  The  ■vrorkl  to  Bacon  does  not  only  owe 
Its  present  knowledge,  but  its  future  too." 

This  brief  and  impcifcct  survey  of  past  intellectual  progress,  and 
of  the  great  crisis  of  mental  development,  may  enable  us  to  deter- 
mine the  essential  conditions  which  must  be  satisfied  by  any  philos- 
opher who  may  claim  the  fourth  throne  by  the  side  of  the  illus- 
trious three — Aristotle,  Abclard,  and  Bacon.  The  fulfilment  of 
these  conditions  will  be  the  sine  qua  nan  which  must  precede  any 
legitimate  pretension  to  the  succession.  Much  more,  indeed,  will 
be  required;  but  the  other  characteristics  we  will  not  presume  to 
anticipate,  as  they  can  be  only  known  after  the  event :  and,  more- 
over, we  are  endeavouring^  merely  to  establish  a  test  by  which  false 
prophets  may  be  detected,  not  to  furnish  in  advance  the  portraiture 
of  the  true.  We  wish  to  supply  the  means  for  discovering  and  con- 
founding the  four  hundred  priests  of  Baal.  "^""6  will  not  dare  to 
conjecture  the  powers,  the  properties,  or  the  credentials  of  him  on 
"whom  the  mantle  of  Klijah  may  be  destined  to  descend.  We  only 
propose  to  point  out  tiie  negative  conditions  which  may  authenticate 
the  mission  of  tlic  true  prophet;  the  positive  characteristics  we 
leave  to  the  future  to  disclose. 

The  conditions,  then,  are  first :  That  the  new  reform  shall  be  dic- 
tated by  the  contemporary  disorganization  of  society,  and  contem- 
plate its  redress  or  alleviation  as  a  proximate  aim ;  then,  it  must 
appear  at  the  close  of  a  period  in  which  former  intellectual  systems 
have  manifested  their  impotcncy  and  decline,  not  only  by  their 
defective  operation,  but  by  their  positively  pernicious  action ;  next, 
it  must  propose  the  revivificatiou  of  moral  sentiments  and  moral 
rcsponsibihties,  and  must  seek  the  agency  of  the  meditated  reform 
in  the  revision,  purification,  and  extension  of  metaphysical  theories 
and  logical  procedure,  by  starting  from  a  more  correct  and  enlarged 
determination  of  the  princif)les  and  laws  of  all  valid  reasoning;  and, 
finally,  it  must  be  governed  by  an  earnest  spirit  of  religious  belief, 
and  minister  to  the  restoration  of  religious  convictions.  It  must 
also,  as  we  have  already  said,  be  in  harmony  with  the  past,  but  it 
must  not  be  the  summation  of  prevalent  habits,  or  the  mere  system- 
ization  of  vague,  popuUir  ])ractice ;  or,  in  other  words,  it  must  not 
form  the  climax  of  anterior  usages,  but  be  obviously  the  introduc- 
tion of  a  new  regime.  It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  add  that  these 
aims  must  not  be  simply  professed  as  vague  appetencies,  but  that 
the  new  philosophy  must  manifest  an  imdoubted  aptitude  for  eflFec- 


1853.]  The  Bacon  of  the  Nineteenth  Century.  497 

tually  accomplishing  the  ends  proposed.  We  may  add,  too,  that 
the  less  pretension  to  system  which  it  may  possess,  the  greater  Vfill 
be  the  probability  of  its  success,  and  the  more  reasonable  the  pre- 
sumption that  its  mission  is  true.  'Where  was  the  system  of  Soc- 
rates, of  Aristotle,  of  Abolard,  or  even  of  Bacon  himself?  Their 
followers,  indeed,  produced  systems  in  all  variety  and  abundance,  but 
•where  were  their  own  'i 

The  characteristics  Avhich  wo  have  indicated  may  appear  in  une- 
qual degrees  and  under  diverse  modifications,  according  to  the  com- 
plexion of  the  times  and  the  individual  idiosyncrasies  of  the  phi- 
losophers themselves ;  but  they  must  all  coc.xist  in  perfect  concord. 
We  may  easily  recognise  tlie  realization  of  these  conditions,  in  whole 
or  in  part,  by  Aristotle,  Abelard,  and  Bacon ;  though  by  each  -with 
dissimilar  completeness.  We  may,  without  difficult}^  discover  the 
violation  of  one  or  more  of  them  by  all  of  those  distinguished  men 
who  failed  in  the  reforms  which  tlicy  severally  attempted.  But  all 
of  these  criteria  may  be  imperfectl}'  represented  by  one :  the  reforma- 
tion designed  must  commence  in  the  revision  of  logical  principles,  or 
the  formal  conditions  of  human  thought  and  speculation.  Thus,  if 
it  were  not  for  the  apparent  irreverence,  we  might  say  here,  that, 
strangely  enough,  after  the  contumoh'  of  three  centuries,  the  indis- 
pensable aid  of  logic  is  conspicuously  recognised,  and  "  the  stone 
which  the  builders  (of  our  modern  temple  of  science)  rejected,  has 
become  the  head-stone  of  the  corner.'' 

When  we  test,  by  the  criteria  proposed,  M.  Comte's  claims  to  be 
regarded  as  the  Bacon  of  the  niuctceuth  century,  and  attempt  to  deter- 
mine the  probable  efficacy  of  his  writings  and  philosophy  for  the  pur- 
poses proposed,  it  will  be  obvious  to  any  one  acquainted  with  his  bril- 
liant and  elaborate  works  that  we  have  an  exceedingly  delicate  task  to 
perform.  In  many  respects  he  approximates  so  closely  to  most  of 
the  requisitions  specified,  that  either  a  hasty  consideration  of  his 
WTitings,  or  an  appetency  for  their  peculiar  heresies,  may  readily 
inspire  the  conviction  that  they  are  fully  satisfied  by  him.  Even  in 
this  event,  we  should  have  no  sufficient  assurance  of  his  being  truly 
entitled  to  the  mission  claimed  for  him ;  but  should  be  compelled 
to  renounce  our  negative  test,  and  proceed  to  examine  his  doctrmes 
in  detail.  A  close  and  discriminating  comparison,  however,  of  M. 
Comte's  treatises  with  the  canon  which  we  have  established,  will 
exhibit  such  discrepancies,  we  tiiink,  as  will  justify  the  conclusion 
that  M.  Comte  does  not  in  any  sufficient  sense  satisfy  the  funda- 
mental conditions  which  we  liave  pointed  out.  It  will,  indeed,  appear 
singular  that  he  shouhl  have  so  nearly  approached  the  prescribed 
standard,  and  yet  failed  to  attain  it ;  and  yet  the  causes  of  this  very 


498  Tlie  Bacon  of  the  Nineteenth  Century.       [October, 

failure  will  furnisli  us  uith  the  explanation  of  that  equally  singular 
phenomenon,  that,  after  his  just  criticism  of  the  errors  of  modern 
intellect,  and  his  acute  supri^cstions  for  the  partial  renovation  of 
modern  science,  his  philosojihy  should  have  eventuated  in  a  system 
at  once  arbitrary  and  fantastic,  and  calculated  rather  to  perpetuate 
existing  evils  than  to  introduce  any  radical  reform  of  the  intellect. 

Still,  though  such  rnay  be  the  result  to  -which  we  are  finally  brought 
by  any  diligent  examination  of  M.  Comte's  philosophy,  the  first 
glance  furnishes  a  sufficiently  strong  presumption  of  the  justice  of 
the  claim  alleged  in  his  behalf,  to  prevent  any  surprise  at  the  earnest- 
ness with -which  it  has  been  asserted  by  his  follo-wers,  and  the  tenacity 
•with  Avhich  it  is  believed.  It  is  obvious,  on  the  slightest  inspection, 
that  the  whole  theory  of  Positivism  has  been  dictated  by  the  desire 
to  minister  effectually  toward  the  alleviation  and  removal  of  existing 
social  distress,  and  the  ])revailing  intellectual  anarchy;  and  this 
purpose  is  constantly  and  expressly  avowed.  The  new  scheme  is 
offered  at  a  time  when  from  all  quarters  we  are  assured  that  our  old 
habits  of  thought  and  action  have  run  into  dangerous  excesses,  and 
are  exhibiting  pernicious  tendencies  which  they  are  unable  of  them- 
selves to  explain  or  arrest.  These  consequences  of  popular  error 
are  sedulously  exposed  in  the  Positive  philosophy.  It  contemplates 
as  its  immediate  fruit,  the  revival  of  moral  obligations  and  the 
acknowledgment  of  the  predominance  of  duty  over  right,  as  the 
means  necessary  for  the  rerstablishment  of  healthy  social  and 
political  action.  It  seeks  the  accomplishment  of  these  aims  by  the 
negation  of  those  erroneous  theories  of  metaphysics,  and  of  that 
habitual  sophistry  which  arc  supposed  to  have  generated  the  present 
anarch}^  of  the  intellect.  It  professes  to  be  actuated  by  a  deep 
religious  sentiment,  ami  has  actually  attempted  the  construction  of 
a  new,  scientific,  and  demonstrable  religion.  It  certainly  harmo- 
nizes, in  many  re.-pects,  most  intimately  with  the  past,  and  yet 
assumes  to  be  the  commencement  of  a  radical  regeneration.  It  is 
instinct  throughout  with  the  most  absolute  confidence  in  its  own 
truth  and  adequacy;  it  is  full  of  the  conviction  that  it,  and  nothing 
else,  can  effectually  eradicate  the  existing  ailments  of  civilization; 
and  it  proclaims  its  own  dcfmite  establishment  with  the  most  un- 
wavering dogmatism.  It  is  eminently  systematic,  it  is  true ;  but  the 
unchanging  system  lies  rather  in  the  method  than  in  the  details, 
which  are  in  many  instances  acknowledged  to  be  only  provisional, 
and  subject  to  correction  with  the  further  advancement  of  experi- 
ence and  science.  Such  is  the  evidence  which  sustains  the  pre- 
sumption that  M.  Comte  is  entitled  to  the  honour  of  being  hailed 
as  the  Paeon  of  the  iSineteenth  Century. 


1853.]  The  Bacon  of  the  Nhietccnth  Century.  499 

Let  us  examine  these  points  more  closely.  "Wc  admit,  -witliout 
question,  that  the  Positive  philosopliy  a))pcar3  at  a  time  of  lamenta- 
ble intellectual  anarchy,  is  dictated  by  the  social  wants  and  distresses 
of  the  time,  and  contemplates  their  redress  and  removal.  But  the 
same  admission,  in  their  respective  periods,  mij^ht  be  made  -with 
regard  to  Protagoras,  Plato,  Epicurus,  Zeno,  Aniold  of  Brescia, 
Berengarius,  Giordano  Bruno,  Campanella,  Sir  Thomas  ^lore,  Har- 
rington, St.  Simon,  Fourier,  Owrn,  Leroux,  and  hundreds  of  others. 
These  characteristics  appertain  e<[ually  to  the  speculative  reformers 
■who  have  foiled  in  their  mission,  aiid  to  those  who  have  achieved 
the  requisite  regeneration. 

The  Positive  system  does  indeed  appear  at  a  time  when  intel- 
lectual error  is  so  deep-seated  and  so  wide-spread,  so  operative,  and 
yet  so  latent,  that  it  has  introduced  almost  hopeless  confusion  into 
all  departments  of  thought  and  action.  Previous  systems  are  obvi- 
ously effete,  and  the  world  is  beginning  to  evince  its  consciousness 
of  the  necessity  of  new  or  more  correct  principles  for  an  assured 
continuance  of  the  race,  of  civilization.  ]>ut,  though  the  Positive 
philosophy  is  thus  unquestionably  propounded  at  the  close  of  an 
intellectual  period,  we  think  that  it  as  unquestionably  belongs  to  the 
period  which  it  proposes  to  supersede,  and  is  rather  a  purification, 
systemization,  and  summation  of  the  principles  of  the  past,  than 
an  announcement  of  any  ne\v  or  more  correct  method.  The  absence 
of  all  authority  other  than  the  individual  will,  the  want  of  any 
extrinsic  evidence  of  truth  and  right,  and  their  entire  dependence 
upon  the  human  and  the  in-lividual  reason,  resulting  in  the  conse- 
quential anarchy  of  the  intellect,  were  recognised  by  us  in  our  pre- 
vious article  as  the  fatal  and  characteristic  symptoms  of  present 
disorganization.  How  does  the  Positive  philosophy  propose  to 
redrels  this  great  grievance?  V>y  arbitrarily  discarding,  at  the  dic- 
tation of  the  individual  caprice  of  the  author,  all  branches  of  knowl- 
edge and  science  which  do  not  lend  themselves  to  his  predetermined 
system ;  by  denying  theology,  metaphysics,  logic,  geology,  natural 
history,  <fcc. ;  and  by  assuming  the  mutilated  body  of  remaining 
science— itself  the  mere  creature  of  human  reason,  acting  in  obedi- 
ence to  those  principles  which  have  produced  the  anarchy  com- 
plained of  by  I^I.  Comte— by  assuming  this,  as  pruned,  distorted, 
and  perverted  in  accordance  with  his  own  individual  interpretation, 
as  the  sole  canon  of  truth  and  fal.-^ehood,  of  right  and  of  wrong. 
Such  a  procedure  bears  upon  itself  the  marks  of  all  the  diseases 
which  are  traced  to  the  operation  of  those  habits  which  it  is  designed 
to  correct.  It  takes,  it  is  true,  the  right  of  authoritative  judgment 
from  all  others;  but  it  concentrates  this  right  and  this  authority  iu 


500  The  Bacon  of  the  Nineteenth  Century.        [October, 

the  individual  "will  and  the  individual  reason  of  M.  Comte  himself, 
and  those  -whom  he  may  designate  as  the  anointed  preachers  of  his 
own  individual  doctrine.  Nor  is  it  possible  to  evade  this  resem- 
blance to  present  popular  practices  by  alleging  that  this  doctrine  is 
the  result  of  all  former  research,  and  is  the  voice,  the  reason,  the 
science,  the  sum- total  of  the  convictions  of  humanity  itself.  Even 
if  so,  it  would  only  be  the  voice  of  humanity  in  so  far  as  the  suc- 
cessive generations  of  men  liad  disowned  all  authority  but  that  of 
the  merely  human  and  scientific  reason.  It  would  thus  resolve 
itself  into  the  recognition  of  the  justice  of  that  authority  of  the 
individual  will,  or  of  the  aggregate  wills  of  the  individuals  com- 
posing humanity,  which  has  eventuated  in  the  modern  anarchy  which 
is  to  be  redressed.  In  the  former  case  it  is  the  canonization  of  all 
existing  evils  of  speculation  under  the  form  of  an  intellectual  des- 
potism ;  in  the  latter  it  is  the  systematic  recognition  of  the  intel- 
lectual anarchy  itself,  as  the  sole  means  of  its  abatement.  On  one 
horn  or  the  other  of  this  dilemma  the  Positive  philosophy  must  hang ; 
but,  in  either  case,  it  proves  to  be  equally  part  and  parcel  of  the  old 
and  effete  dispensation,  not  the  inauguration  of  a  new  intellectual 
government.  ^Ve  mu.st  however  say  that  it  is  a  most  unlicensed 
pretension  on  the  part  of  the  Positive  philosophy,  to  claim  to  be  the 
mouth-piece  of  humanity — for  mankind  in  all  its  stages  has  received 
much  of  what  M.  Comtc  has  rejected  with  a  firmer,  more  general, 
and  more  assured  belief,  than  anjihing  which  he  has  accepted :  and 
has  recognised  those  branches  of  strict  science  which  he  has  cash- 
iered in  its  highest  civilization,  while  it  refuses  to  believe  in  that 
fantastic  theory  of  phrenology  to  which  he  assigns  such  prominence 
in  his  works. 

Here,  then,  is  one  point,  and  it  is  a  most  important  one,  in  which 
the  claim  of  M.  Comtc  most  signally  fails.  His  philosophy  belongs 
to  that  one-sided  interpretation  of  the  Baconian  reform,  which  has 
resulted  in  present  anarchy.  But,  though  his  glance  is  toward  the 
past  in  the  general  elaboration  of  his  philosophy,  he  reveals  a  true 
prophetic  instinct  in  declaring  the  necessity  of  a  moral  reform — of  a 
revival  of  the  controlling  sense  of  duty — as  the  indispensable  pre- 
liminary to  either  social  or  political  reorganization.  AYe  cannot 
accord  equal  commendation  to  the  mode  in  which  this  resuscitation 
of  moral  vitality  is  proposed  to  be  effected,  nor  can  we  concede  it 
to  be  efficacious,  or  even  practicable.  What  is  the  standard  of  posi- 
tive morality  ?  The  revealed  law  of  God  'i  By  no  means.  M.  Comte 
regards  all  divinity  as  a  fiction;  he  is  like  Tasso's  magician — 

"D'ogni  Dio  sprezzator." 


1853.1  The  Bacon  of  the  Nineteenth  Century.  501 

Is  it  tlie  law  of  God  written  in  our  hearts— the  human  conscience? 
Not  so :  he  docs  indeed  recognise,  in  a  vague  manner,  the  logical 
validity  of  the  instinctive  sentiments  of  man,  but  he  never  elevates 
the  conscience  of  the  individual  into  the  arbiter  of  our  actions.  His 
morality  is  nothing  more  than  iniplicit  obedience  to  the  interests 
and  necessities  of  humanity,  as  demonstrated  by  the  scientific  study 
of  the  universe,  and  by  the  examination  of  the  requirements  of 
human  society.  AVe  may  admit  that  this  is  a  more  elevated  vievr 
of  duty  than  that  taught  by  Bentham,  but,  after  all,  it  is  only  a  sub- 
limated form  of  utilitarianism,  and  limits  the  range  of  morals  to  the 
narrow  circle  of  temporal  prudence.  It  is  certainly  a  vain  hope  to 
expect  to  revive  the  fodhig  sense  of  immutable  obligations,  which 
has  been  sapped  by  the  uncontrolled  ascendency  of  the  intellect  and 
by  the  impetuous  pursuit  of  individual  interests,  by  recognising  as 
a  canon  the  mere  scientific  creation  of  human  reason,  and  appealing 
to  the  general  interests  of  the  mass.  To  insure  obedience  to  the 
moral  law,  we  must  be  taught  to  listen  with  childish  simplicity  to 
the  voice  of  the  monitor  within ;  and  must  regard  its  prescriptions, 
not  as  the  deductions  or  the  inductions  of  the  reason,  but  as  the  wit- 
ness of  God  in  our  hearts.  The  motive  of  our  actions  must  be 
extrinsic  to  all  temporal  considerations ;  not  the  suggestion  of  a  plia- 
ble fancy  or  a  casuistical  science,  but  an  implicit  obedience  to  di\-ine 
command,  and  an  humble  reliance  upon  the  justice  and  truth  of 
divine  authority.  Ko  other  law— no  fantastic  scheme  of  our  crea- 
tion—can be  received  as  a  substitute  for  the  eternal  law :  it  could 
only  have  a  transitory  and  partial  inlluencc  over  our  conduct,  and 
would  yield  instantly  to  the  caprices  of  passion,  to  the  temptations 
of  interest,  and  to  the  chimeras  of  human  reason.  Although  the 
aim  of  M.  Comte  be,  then,  indubitably  both  right  and  noble,  the 
means  proposed  by  him  for  its  realization  would  prove  ineffectual, 
and  Avould  only  tend  to  peri)etuate,  imder  a  disguised  torm,  the 
present  lamentable  subjection  of  the  moral  sentiments  to  considera- 
tions of  worldly  prudence  and  to  intellectual  domination. 

But,  as  if  sensible  of  this  defect,  as  if  himself  recognising  the 
imperative  necessity  of  some  guide  for  human  action  beyond  the 
ran<^e  of  human  speculation.  M.  Cnntc  has  in  his  later  productions 
proposed,  with  apparent  inconsistency,  a  religious  scheme  as  the 
basis  for  all  his  meditated  reforms.  On  the  construction  of  this 
Positive  reli'don  he  now  seems  to  plume  himself  the  most,  and  his 
greatest  discover}'  appears  to  be,  in  his  opinion,  the  determination 
of  the  divinity  of  humanity  :— 

An  plorla  ma?na. 
Insklias  hoinini  composulsse  dcum? 


502  The  Bacon  of  the  Nineteenth  Century.       [October, 

If  this  new  religion  possessed  the  elements  or  the  characteristics  of 
a  valid  religion,  the  objections  which  we  have  made  to  the  proposed 
moral  renovation  of  M.  Conite  would  be  in  a  great  measure  removed. 
If,  however,  it  is  the  mere  spectral  illusion  of  a  diseased  imagination, 
it  proves  the  justice  of  those  objections,  and  their  recognition  by 
I\r.  Comte  himself  There  is,  however,  another  reason  for  devoting 
some  attention  to  this  new  creed  at  present.  We  have  seen  that 
the  great  reformers  of  former  times  were  governed  by  an  ardent 
religious  sentiment.  If  they  deviated  in  some  respects  from  the 
popular  interpretation  of  religious  doctrines,  they  received  with 
unhesitating  faith  the  great  principles  of  religion,  and  endeavoured 
to  explain  and  confirm  their  truth,  and  extend  their  efficacy.  Kone 
of  them  pretended  to  deny  supernatural  religion,  or  dreamed  for  one 
moment  of  inventing  a  new  one.  This  religious  temperament  we  have 
recognised  as  one  of  the  most  significant  characteristics  of  the  true 
reformer.  If  M.  Comte  possesses  it  in  any  just  sense,  it  may  add 
another  testimony  in  favour  of  his  pretensions  to  the  throne  of 
Bacon.  If  he  only  clothes  himself  with  the  semblance  of  religion, 
imagines  a  mere  simulacrum  instead  of  a  reality,  and  sets  up  in  his 
heart,  as  the  divine  object  of  his  adoration,  a  mere  idol  of  his  own 
fantastic  invention,  it  is  one  evidence  the  more  that  his  pretensions 
are  wholly  unfounded. 

Wo  ask  pardon  of  our  readers  while  we  proceed  gravely  to  exam- 
ine this  point.  Iiidicule  seems  the  only  appropriate  weapon,  and 
contempt  the  only  fitting  judgment.  But  these  are  not  legitimate 
practices  in  philosophical  investigation,  and  we  must  estimate  the 
Positive  religion  with  a  sobriety  and  impartiality  which  it  scarcely 
merits,  though  such  courtesy  may  be  due  to  the  great  name  of  M. 
Comte. 

In  the  St/sfhne  dc  Politique  Positive*  the  necessity  is  distinctly 
recognised  of  an  extrinsic  or  extra-human  authority  as  the  guide 
and  legislator  of  man;  thus  indicating  one  of  those  fundamental 
proofs  of  the  necessity  of  religion  which  are  furnished  by  the  very 
constitution  of  human  nature.  But  Isl.  Comte  docs  not  perceive 
that  a  supra-human  authority  is  in  all  respects  superior  to  a  coordi- 
nate, though  extrinsic  one.  Nor  does  he  discover  that  the  one  may 
be  efficacious  and  sufficient,  wbilc  the  latter  might  be  entirely  inop- 
erative. He  vaguely  detects  the  principle  of  the  necessit}^  and  yet 
vitiates  its  application,  by  his  choice  of  lower  and  inadequate  means. 
In  order  to  render  his  extrinsic  legislation  of  the  scientific  laws  of 

^  "Tour  nous  r.'-glor  ou  nous  T.iluer,  la  rolidon  doit  done,  av.int  tout  nons 
subordonner  a  '  une  puissance  cxterieuro.  dont  rirr.'?!stiblc  supn'niatio  ne  nous 
laisse  nucunc  iacertitude.'  " — Syst.  do  I'ol.  Tos.,  vol.  ii.  p.  12. 


1853.]  TheBaconof  the  Nineteenth  Century.  503 

nature  valid,  one  of  two  tbin^^s  would  be  requisite :  we  must  con- 
ceive cither  that  we  have  a  full  and  eoraplete  knowledge  of  all  the 
laws  of  nature, — which  is  to  assert  the  future  stagnation  of  science, — 
or  wc  must  suppose  that  the  laws  which  we  now  receive  as  such  will 
not  be  materially  changed  or  modified  by  futui-e  discoveries.  The 
former  is  utterly  at  variance  with  the  indispensable  humility  of  true 
knowledge;  the  latter  is  equally  opposed  to  the  past  history  of 
science,  and  to  its  future  advancement.  The  funner,  if  true,  might 
inform  the  reason,  but  it  would  be  impotent  to  regenerate  or  to 
regulate  the  heart;  the  latter,  besides  this  inefficiency,  would  be 
obnoxious  to  the  accusation  of  terminating  a  philosopdiy  professedly 
founded  upon  history  by  the  negntion  of  its  lessons.  In  looking  to 
God  and  to  revelation  for  the  rcfpusite  ultra-human  authority,  "we 
recognise  a  fi.xed  scheme,  unchangeable  by  mere  human  action,  and 
immutable  absolutely,  excejit  by  a  furtlier  revelation,  which  we  have 
no  reason  to  expect,  and  which,  even  if  vouchsafed,  would  assuredly 
fulfil,  not  destroy,  the  former  law.  AVe  liave,  therefore,  neither  right 
nor  need  to  anticipate  any  ulterior  developments  in  religion,  except 
such  as  may  result  from  the  more  liarmonious  agreement  between 
human  reason  and  revealed  prescription,  or  from  the  fuller  compre- 
hension which  increased  intelligence  may  bestow.  Thus,  M.  Comte, 
in  this,  as  in  so  many  other  instances,  apprehends  in  his  analysis 
the  truth  which  he  cither  totally  vitiates  or  entirely  abandons  in  his 
synthesis;  detecting  in  liis  criticism  the  important  principle  which 
does  not  regulate  his  construction,  because  he  is  hopelessly  led  to  the 
adoption  of  too  low  a  procedure  by  the  fatal  tendency  of  his  original 
prejudices. 

^Vhen  we  consider  the  details  of  his  creed,  we  find  something 
superlatively  ridiculous  and  visionary  in  the  idea  of  his  Humanity 
as  an  object  of  adoration.  How  is  it  depicted  by  himself":'*  It  is  a 
supreme  being,  incorporeal,  yet  formed  of  infinite  bodies ;  imma- 
terial, yet  made  from  matter;  eternal,  yet  born  in  time  and  con- 
stantly dying  in  its  members ;  invisible,  yet  whose  parts  are  always 
visible  before  absorbed  into  its  substance;  omnipotent,  yet  restricted 
by  laws  which  it  docs  not  make,  but  discover ;  omniscient,  yet  ever 
increasing  in  knowledge ;  ubiquitous,  but  never  occupying  any  place 
in  its  aggregate  capacity,  and  pervading  only  detached  portions  of 
terrestrial  space  by  the  accidental  and  shifting  distribution  of  its 
atoms.  It  is  a  supreme  being  tliat  grows  by  the  decay  of  its  ele- 
ments, like  Saturn,  feeding  on  iii.s  own  children ;  that  increases  in 
strength,  magnitude,  power,  and  intelligence,  in  proportion  as  the 
apparent  need  diminishes;  that  is  non-c.xistent  at  the  commence- 
**  Syst.  dc  Politii^ue  Positive,  vol.  ii,  p.  S2. 


504  The  Bacon  of  the  Nineteenth  Century.        [October, 

ment  of  its  creation,  expands  -with  its  expansion,  and  would  attain 
the  amplest  proportions  on  the  verge  of  extinction  or  decay.  It  is 
a  deity  that  furnishes  the  initiatory  instruction  to  the  successive 
races  of  his  servants,  and  receives  from  them  a  -wider  instruction 
and  more  comprehensive  iutellii^ence ;  being  ahvays  superior  to 
them  in  the  quantum  of  past  accretions,  anjl  ahvays  inferior  in  the 
quality  of  present  knowk-dge  and  morality.  It  is  the  very  inversion, 
Dot  merely  of  the  relations  of  Creator  and  creature,  of  God  and  man, 
of  supreme  legislator  and  subject,  but  even  of  the  ordinary  relations 
of  parent  and  child.  Jt  is  not  the  pantheism  of  German  transcen- 
dcntalists,  but  its  converse,  the  panhumanism  of  an  equally  capricious 
and  extravagant  empiricism.  It  is  not  religion,  ho^vcver  the  abuse 
of  the  term  may  be  sanctioned  by  etymological  tours-de-force,  but 
it  is  holloAv  sclf-uorship,  M'ith  only  the  coarseness  of  self-idolatry 
mitigated  by  the  substitution  of  the  shadowy  image  of  a  chimerical 
humanity  for  the  familiar  genius  of  each  individual.  Such  a  por- 
tentous shape  bears  the  impress  of  all  the  worst  passions  and  most 
delusive  dreams  of  past  years,  and  can  sustain  no  morality  which  is 
essentially  different  from  the  prudential  or  impulsive  morality  which 
is  at  present  compatible  with  the  domination  of  the  intellect. 

It  were  easy  to  continue  our  criticism  of  JM.  Comte's  Religion  of 
Humanity,  which,  lie  repeatedly  informs  us,  is  definitely  estab- 
lished,*— (Heaven  save  the  mark!) — but  this  is  not  the  place  for 
this  discussion,  whicli  must  still  bide  its  time  :  but  we  cannot  aban- 
don the  subject  without  noticing  that  M.  Comte's  new-fangled  relig- 
ion of  Humanity,  of  which  he  has  proclaimed  himself  high-priest, 
prophet,  and  ])ope,  is  merely  an  ingenious  but  revolting  travesty  of 
the  Christian  faith.  There  is  nmch  acutcncss  and  fanciful  analogy 
in  the  minute  parallelism  preserved  in  this  transmutation;  but  the 
process  itself,  and  especially  its  detailed  and  sedulous  elaboration, 
furnish  instructive  testimony— most  cogent  because  unconscious — 
to  the  substantial  reality,  the  absolute  necessity  of  that  religious 
scheme  which  it  is  thus  proposed  to  supplant  by  another  Avith  a  dif- 
ferent external  complexion  and  a  very  dissimilar  internal  spirit, 
though  following  the  same  train  and  arriving  at  the  same  ends.  The 
Christian  religion,  in  this  contrast  with  the  religion  of  humanity,  may 
be  illustrated  by  Dryden's  lines : — 

"She  raised  a  mortal  to  the  skies; 
IJo  drew  an  angel  down." 

The  Salian  priests,  in  order  to  preserve  tlie  sacred  palladium— the 

Ancile  which  had  been  lowered  from  heaven— constructed  twelve 

"  Syst.  dc  Pol.  Pos.,  vol.  i,  pp.  41.v,  44S. 


1853.]  The  Bacon  of  the  Nineteenth  Century.  505 

shields  in  all  respects  similar  to  tlio  divine  gift.  M.  Comte  imitates 
this  course  in  order  to  effect  the  ovcrtlirow  of  Christianity;  but,  by 
so  doing,  must  be  held  a  reluctant  Avitness  to  the  efficacy  of  that; 
very  religion  Avhich  he  attacks  and  denies,  and  which  he  parodies 
while  proposing  a  substitute  for  it. 

Can  we  regard  the  imagination  of  such  a  scheme  as  evidence  of  that 
religious  spirit  which  presided  over  tlie  labours  of  the  immortal  three 
who  preceded  M.  Comte  ?  Is  this  sort  of  plastic  imitation— this 
negation  of  all  recognised  religion— this  fiction  of  a  God  and  this 
figment  of  a  creed,  any  evidence  of  a  religious  spirit  at  all  ?  As- 
suredly not;  or  we  might  estimate  Mosoilama  or  Mokanna  above 
Mohammed,  the  devil-worshippers  above  Abelard,  and  even  Joanna 
Southcote  above — M.  Comte. 

On  the  score  of  religion,  tiien,  the  Positive  philosophy  lamentably 
fails  to  accord  with  the  requisitions  of  any  new  instauration.  It 
recognises  the  necessity  of  religion  as  the  basis  of  any  effectual 
moral  reform,  and  it  proposes  to  us,  as  a  religion,  a  wild  reverie 
which  has  nothing  of  religion  but  the  unwan-antable  assumption  of 
its  name,  and  is  obviously  incapable  of  producing  any  persistent 
convictions,  of  any  sort  whatever. 

But  the  Positive  philosophy  is  deficient  both  in  breadth  and  uni- 
versality. The  former  defect  we  illustrated  while  exposing  the 
illogical  fallacy  of  confining  all  knowledge  to  the  demonstrable  or 
scientific  ;  the  latter  is  suilicicntly  proved  by  repeating  that  ]M.  Comte 
excludes  from  the  domain  of  his  pliilosojdiy,  as  of  knoATled're,  all 
branches  of  human  study  which  directly  or  indirectly  militate  with 
his  own  mutilated  and  preconceived  theoiy.  lie  has  extended  the 
empire  of  science  in  the  direction  of  sociology;  but  this  conquest 
will  not  compensate  for  his  rejection  of  the  preliminary  sciences  of 
logic  and  metaphysics,  lie  abnegates  zoology  and  geology,*  also; 
nominally  on  account  of  their  concrete  character.  But  they  are 
rather  descriptive  than  concrete  sciences.  The  real  secret  of  their 
repudiation  might  be  suspected  to  be  the  employment  which  has 
been  frequently  made  of  them  to  furnish  evidences  of  creative 
design,  and  thus  to  confirm  the  truth  of  revealed  religion. 

But  the  exclusion  of  logic  and  metaphysics  from  the  sphere  of  his 
speculations  is,  of  itself  alone,  amply  sufficient  to  overthrow  any 
pretensions  of  M.  Comte  to  be  welcomed  as  the  Bacon  of  the  nine- 
teenth century.  In  a  former  article  wo  declared  that  we  had  no 
very  favourable  estimation  of  metaphysical  pursuits  in  general,  and 
recognised  the  pernicious  tendencies  to  which  they  ordinarily  gave 

'^  Syst.  de  Politique  IVitivo,  vol.  i,  p.  432.  Cf.  Catechismc  Positiviste,  pp 
53,  63. 

Fourth  Skrtes.  Vol.  V. — 32 


506  The  Bacon  of  the  Nmcteenth  Century.        [October, 

rise ;  but  "we  also  acknowledged  on  that  occasion,  and  now  repeat, 
that  there  are  periods  in  tlie  progress  of  intellectual  development 
when  they  become  indispensable :  and  we  have  recently  seen  that  it 
was  in  this  particular  hold  that  the  instaurations  of  Aristotle,  Abe- 
lard,  and   Bacon  were   commenced,   and  their  main   battle   won. 
M.  Comtc's  contemptuous  scorn  and  renunciation  of  these  funda- 
mental departments  of  human  speculation  compel  us  to  assign  him 
a  place,  as  a  reformer  of  the  intellectual  world,  even  below  Abelard. 
We  are  not  speaking  of  the  comparative  genius  of  the  two  authors, 
nor  of  their  respective  ranges  of  investigation,  but  solely  of  the 
efficacy  of  their   schemes   to  inaugurate  a  new  intellectual   era. 
M.  Comte  has  not  attempted  to  reexamine  the  conditions  and  first 
principles  of  human  thought ;  he  has  avoided  this  essential  inquiry 
by  cutting  off  and  ignoring  the  whole  domain  which  required  the 
earliest  and  most  arduous  culture.     His  criticism  does  not  extend 
to  the  valid  exercise  of  the  functions  of  reason :  it  assumes  a  lower 
station  for  its  dejiarture,  and  commences  below  the  point  from  which 
the  whole  current  of  present  disorder  flows ;  and  thus  it  can  at  best 
produce  only  a  deceptive  impression  of  renovated  health,  for  it  does 
not  rise  to  the  full  recognition  of  the  disease.     It  is  wholly  incog- 
nizant of  the  first  therapeutics  required,  and  it  mistakes  the  parts 
to  which  the  curative  remedies  must  be  applied.     M.  Comte,  it  is 
true,  even  while  denying  the  validity  of  logic  as  a  legitimate  branch 
of  knowledge,  has  ministered  most  efficiently  to  the  extension  and 
correction  of  the  logic  of  strict  science.     All  credit  is  due  to  him 
for  insisting  so  strenuously  upon  the  necessity  of  combining  analysis 
with  synthesis  in  all  speculation,  and  employing  induction  for  dis- 
covery, deduction  for  systemization.     The  merit  is  not  in  the  nov- 
elty of  tlic  doctrine,  for  it  is  not  new,  but  in  the  prominence  given 
to  it,  and  its  skilful  elucidation.     But,  though  we  concede  these 
services,  and  though  they  may  ultimately  prove  to  be  extremely 
beneficial,  they  only  withdraw  our  attention  from  the  primitive  seat 
of  error,  and  aid  a  continued  a<lvance  in  the  wrong  direction,  until 
the  pure  logic  of  human  thought,  the  conditions  and  validity  of  all 
reasoning,  have  been  reexamined  and  reconstituted.     This  subject 
could  never  be  directly  contemplated  by  M.  Comte,  being  excluded 
by  his  own  arbitrary  procedure  at  the  outset.    Indeed,  the  "  Critique 
of  the  Pure  lleason"  gives  to  Kant  a  much  stronger  presumptive 
claim  to  be  recognised  as  a  true  reformer  than  is  possessed  by  the 
French  philosopher.     Had  ]\r.  Comte  suffered  himself  to  be  guided 
in  his  general  purposes  by  Kant,  Avith  the  same  docility  with  which 
he  has  pursued  his  footsteps  in  more  trivial  matters ;  had  he  com- 
menced his  criticism  of  human  knowledge  where  Kant  began,  and 


1853.]  The  Bacon  of  the  Nineteenth  Ccntwy.  507 

applied  to  the  investigation  liis  -wonderful  sagacity,  his  singular 
lucidity  of  thought  and  expression,  his  persevering  industry,  and 
his  largo  scientific  attainment^;,  he  might  have  attained  the  object 
of  his  ambition,  and  proved  the  great  restorer  of  modern  intellect — 
provided  he  had  not  by  an  arbitrary  pre-judgment  rejected  revela- 
tion. As  it  is,  the  original  error  of  his  preliminary  rejections  recurs 
at  the  close  of  his  long  and  brilliant  elaboration,  and  denies  hira  the 
fruition  of  his  hopes.  The  hand  of  Tantalus  is  stretched  toward 
the  tempting  fruit,  his  moutli  approaches  the  long-desired  waters ; 
the  former  arc  nearly  Avithin  iiis  grasp,  the  latter  have  almost 
touched  his  parched  lips;  but  both  vanish  irrecoverably  at  the  very 
moment  vrhen  the  confidence  of  their  enjoyment  had  almost  become 
certainty.  In  the  history  of  the  papacy  there  is  a  most  painful  and 
instructive  story  told  of  a  certain  cardinal.  San  Severina,  burning 
■with  the  most  intense  but  concealed  ambition,  had  once  declined  the 
tiara  from  affected  humility.  Years  rolled  on,  and  he  was  at  last 
elected  by  the  conclave.  He  remained  in  his  cell,  endeavouring  to 
subdue  his  eager  gratification  into  the  semblance  of  modest  resigna- 
tion. He  listened  for  the  feet  of  the  deputation  at  his  doors,  comin"- 
to  announce  his  elevation  to  the  pontifical  throne.  Instead  of  the 
e.xpected  honour,  he  learned  that  all  his  hope  was  forever  blasted  by 
the  absolute  and  canonical  veto  of  the  German  emperor.  His  doom 
was  heard  in  silence,  and,  with  an  heroic  effort,  he  concealed  his 
anguish  and  despair.  But  the  ])rizc  to  which  his  whole  life  had 
been  devoted,  for  which  he  had  toiled,  i'ov  whicli,  through  a  lono- 
existence,  he  had  clothed  himself  with  hypocrisy  and  unnatural  hu- 
mility, was  gone  from  his  rcacli  forever.  And  that  night  he  lay 
senseless  in  the  silence  of  his  chamber,  while  the  blood  gushed  in 
torrents  from  his  ears,  his  no.^trils,  and  his  mouth. "^  In  refusing  to 
M.  Comte  the  honour  claimed  for  him  by  his  too  eager  admirers,  we 
have  the  same  feeling  of  agnn^y  that  we  cannot  resist  in  contem- 
plating the  life  and  fate  of  Cardinal  San  Severina.  Instead  of  suc- 
ceeding to  the  throne  of  Bacon,  M.  Comte  has  hopelessly  failed ;  his 
hand  had  almost  touched  the  sceptre,  but  it  is  not  destined  for  him. 
He  must  take  his  place  by  the  side  of  Protagoras,  and  Roscellinus, 
and  Giordano  Bruno,  and  the  other  eminent  philosophers  who 
prematurely  attempted  an  intelloctual  instauration,  and  missed  their 
mark,  in  consequence  of  misa]ij)rchcnding  the  true  conditions  of  the 
required  reform.  It  is  somewhat  remarkable  that  the  criticism  of 
Brucker  on  Giordano  Bruno  is  almost  exactly  applicable  to  M.  Comte. 

°  This  sad  history  of  mingleJ  ilocoptiou  ftiiJ  heroism  is  admirably  given  ia 
"  Range's  History  of  the  Popes,"  where  it  is  illustrated  by  the  graphic  testimony 
of  contemporary  documents.  .  ...  • 


508  The  Bacon  of  the  Nineteenth  Century.       [October, 

The  philosopher  of  IS  ok  failed  from  excess  of  fancy,  (vrhich  is  abun- 
dantly ev-inced  in  the  Si/sthnc  de  Philosophic  Positive,')  and  from 
the  absence  of  a  true  reli^^ious  spirit.* 

AVe  have  now  briefly  examined  M.  Comte's  claims  to  be  accepted 
as  the  Bacon  of  the  nineteenth  century,  and  in  a  manner  -which 
scarcely  does  justice  to  his  singular  acumen  in  the  detection  of 
special  errors,  or  to  the  sac^acity  ^vith  ^\"hich  he  exposes  prevalent 
sophistry.  The  investij^ation  has  not  been  as  thorough  and  minute 
as  Tve  should  have  -wished  it  to  be  for  our  own  satisfaction;  but  our 
space  denied  us  the  privilege  of  descending  to  details,  and  sho-w- 
ing  how  impracticable  and  incilicicnt  the  provisions  of  Positivism 
are  for  the  adequate  redress  of  the  grievances  recognised.  The 
result  of  our  inquiry  might  perhaps  tempt  others  to  underrate  the 
splendid  abilities  and  extensive  science  of  the  founder  of  the  Posi- 
tive philosophy;  but  we  have  spared  the  ridicule  which  his  later  pro- 
ductions invite,  and  we  acknowledge  that  his  critical  or  negative 
labours  have  facilitated  the  advent  of  an  effectual  instauration,  and 
that  most  of  his  scientific  conclusions  will  be  incorporated  with 
slight  modifications  in  any  future  scheme  of  adequate  renovation. 
The  broad  standard,  too,  by  which  we  have  tested  his  true  historical 
position,  though  throwing  a  transient  shadow  over  his  brilliant 
capacities,  allows  us  to  entertain  no  apprehension  of  having  done 
injustice  to  him  in  denying  him  to  be  the  prophet  which  he  is 
asserted  to  be,  or  of  having  been  influenced  in  our  judgment  by 
prejudices  or  partialities.  M.  Comte  is  not  he  who  should  come, 
but  we  must  look  for  another.  If  the  philosophy  of  Sir  William 
Hamilton  were  only  rigidly  settled  and  sufliciontly  developed,  we 
shoidd  give  it  precedence  over  the  Positive  philosophy,  because  it 
commences  at  the  right  point,  and  looks  in  the  right  direction, 
although  the  scope  of  the  author  be,  as  yet,  too  limited  for  a  com- 
plete renovation. 

The  Baconian  philosophy  has  been  the  peculiar  boast  of  the  late 
centuries,  but  it  has  been  accepted  and  construed  in  a  much  narrower 
spirit  than  that  which  animated  its  great  founder,  and  has  been 
dwarfed  into  a  mean  and  beggarly  limitation  to  things  sensible  and 
material,  to  the  exclusion  of  its  aptitudes  for  higher  thoughts,  feel- 

«  "rrima,  autpm,  qua)  in  co  vigebat,  imaginationis  vi.s  fuit,  adeo  effusa  ct  extra 
orbitam  rapta.  ut  nisi  nos  omnia  fallaut,  vix  simile  vagantis  per  innumeras 
casque  mire  inter  se  connexas  complicatasque  imagines  ingenii  exemplum  inve- 
nire  liccat." — Brucker's  Hist.  Crit.  riiil,  torn,  v,  p.  29.  And  again :  "  Quanquam 
cnim  aniir.o  regcbatur  magno,  cxoelso,  errorum  contemtore,  et  impcrtcrrito  in 
Bubjugandis  pnvjudiciis,  nee  ab  cruditione  erat  imparatus,  judicii  tamen  acumine 
(sobriety)  do.'^titutus  <?  =>  o  o  totumquc  imaginationis  deliriis  se  permittens, 
veram  viam  invenire  non  potuit." — Id.,  p.  3G. 


1853.]  The  Bacon  of  the  Nineteenth  Century.  509 

ings,  and  objects.  Man,  matter,  and  money — an  ominous  allitera- 
tion— have  been  venerated  as  the  triune  divinity  of  the  nineteenth 
century,  and  conceived  to  be  the  legitimate  idol  set  up  by  Lord 
Bacon.  The  experimental  ])liilosophy  has  been  the  only  part  of  his 
labours  that  has  been  cordially  accepted;  and  the  Baconian  instaura- 
tion,  thus  shrunk  and  -withered,  has  been  made  at  once  the  tool  and 
the  divinity  of  the  age.  This  ?))Irit  of  the  times  has  met  its  fullest 
expression  and  most  consistent  devdopment  in  the  immense  systems 
of  J\I.  Comte,  •^■hich  have  accojited  all  the  logical  consequences  of 
exclusively  experimental  knowledge,  but,  -with  tliat  instinctive  resili- 
ence from  Avhat  is  base  and  unworthy  ■which  characterizes  the 
highest  order  of  genius,  have  rojectcd  the  beggarly  sentiments,  the 
selfish  policy,  the  self-idolatrous  vanity,  ^Yhich  in  meaner  natures 
have  been  the  fruits  of  a  defective  system.  Still,  the  Positive  phi- 
losophy is  merely  the  systemization  of  the  mutilated  fraction  of  the 
Baconian  philosophy,  Avhich  has  been  hitherto  illogically  received  by 
self-seeking  generations:  and  the  pernicious  results  which  it  elimi- 
nates in  theory  would  be  sure  to  return  in  practice.  Between  the 
rigid,  materialistic,  humanized  philosophy  of  M.  Comte,  and  the 
vague  but  glorious  visions  of  something  higher  than  humanity  and 
human  science  which  irradiate  tin-  works  of  Lord  Bacon,  the  dis- 
tance is  vast  indeed;  but  something  more  definite  and  distinct  than 
the  undeveloped  inspirations  of  the  sage  of  Verulam,  and  something 
less  purely  human  than  anything  which  M.  Comte  has  conceived,  is 
requisite  to  counteract  the  tendencies  of  the  times,  to  correct  its 
evils,  heal  the  wounds  of  intellect,  and  breathe  again  the  breath  of 
life  into  an  unbelieving  and  degraded  society. 

The  philosophy  of  Aristotle  enjbraced  both  the  great  branches  of 
human  knowledge — the  ethical  and  physical — the  speculative  and 
scientific:  not  both  with  equal  intensity,  or  with  equal  completeness; 
for  the  necessities  of  the  time.-?  demanded  the  aid  of  the  former,  and 
the  condition  of  science  denied  the  extensive  prosecution  of  the 
latter.  The  logical  reform  was  thus  the  most  prominent  and  signifi- 
cant part  of  Aristotle's  labours ;  this  was  cultivated  by  his  followers, 
while,  after  Theophrastu-s  and  Dioscoridcs,  his  researches  in  natural 
science  were  almost  abandoned,  and  were  neglected  by  the  Romans. 
Abelard  applied  his  genius  merely  to  the  promulgation  of  the  ethi- 
cal division  of  Aristotelism,  and  thus  logic,  in  process  of  time,  was 
extended  to  subjects  which  it  Avas  never  designed  to  usurp,  ond 
science  was  corrupted  and  retarded  by  vain  syllogistic  discussions. 
Bacon  relieved  it  from  this  incubus,  and  placed  it  under  tiio  juris- 
diction of  observation,  ex|ierimt'nt,  and  induction ;  but  witliout  dis- 
owning the  validity  of  logic  in  its  proper  domain,  or  disclaiming  the 


510  The  Bacon  of  the  Nineteenth  Century.        [October, 

superior  authority  and  importance  of  ethical  pursuits.  His  disci- 
ples overlooked  this  universality,  and  prosecuted  a  fragmentary 
elaboration  of  kno^vk■dge;  slighting  and  denouncing  the  logic  of 
deduction,  and  confining  themselves  to  purely  scientific  constnic- 
tion.  M.  Conite  has  pushed  still  further  forward  in  the  same  march. 
He  has  exposed  many  of  the  inconsistencies  and  sophisms  of  the 
received  empiricism,  but  he  has  for  the  first  time  given  a  formal 
denial  to  that  knowledge,  lying  beyond  the  sphere  of  science,  which 
was  so  highly  prized  by  Bacon.  He  is  thus  the  standard-bearer 
only  of  the  popular  and  received  fragment  of  the  Baconian  philoso- 
phy, not  the  successor  to  its  whole  dominion.  But  the  evils  of  the 
time  result  from  this  exclusive  pursuit  of  the  materialistic  side  of 
Baconism,  and  their  redress  requires  a  recurrence  to  the  ethical 
branches  of  knowledge.  M.  Comte  is  thus  on  the  same  side  with 
the  existing  evil,  not  on  that  of  the  necessary  reform.  He  stands 
toward  Bacon  in  a  relation  somewhat  analogous  to  that  occupied 
by  Abelard  to  Aristotle ;  not  in  the  relation  of  Bacon  to  Aristotle, 
or  of  either  of  those  great  men  to  the  intellectual  progress  of  hu- 
manity. Ethical  and  physical  science  never  both  flourish  with  equal 
\-igour  at  the  same  periods,  but  tlic  progress  of  intellect  proceeds 
by  an  oscillation  from  one  to  the  other.  At  the  inception  of  Greek 
philosophy,  the  latter  was  in  the  ascendant;  the  former  from  the 
days  of  Socrates  till  the  time  of  Bacon.  The  continuance  of  the 
exclusive  domination  of  speculative  inquiry  then  eventuated  in  evil; 
and  Bacon,  without  denying  its  validity  within  its  legitimate  range, 
reformed  natural  science,  and  thus  gave  to  it  greater  prominence. 
Physical  pursuits  have  now  been  sedulously  and  almost  exclusively 
pursued  for  two  centuries  and  a  half,  and  have  brought  the  present 
harvest  of  woes.  The  remedy  is  a  return  toward  Aristotle,  by  the 
rectification  of  logic  and  of  ethical  knowledge;  not  by  the  absolutely 
exclusive  prosecution  of  that  one-sided  Baconism,  which  is  the 
source  of  modern  anarchy.  Jt  is  thus  in  the  hemisphere  of  ethical 
science  that  we  must  expect  the  dawn  of  the  new  instauration,  and 
must  look  for  that  future  philosophy  which  may  be  hailed  as  the 
Instauratio  Max'una. 

That  intellectual  regeneration,  which  the  civilized  world  now  lan- 
guishes for  and  desires,  must,  indeed,  partake  of  the  universal  char- 
acter which  we  have  recognised  in  the  intellectual  creations  of  Aris- 
totle and  Bacon,  and  must  fulfil  all  the  requisites  which  we  have 
pointed  out.  It  must  and  will  introduce  order  and  tranquillity  into  the 
political  life  of  states,  by  establishing  a  healthier  social  harmony  in  the 
bosom  of  our  modern  communities.  A  larger  development  of  human 
action,  a  more  expansive  play  of  human  sentiment,  a  more  liberal 


1853.]  The  Bacon  of  the  Nineteenth  Century.  511 

exercise  of  scientiGc  ancl  speculative  talent  uill  result  from  a  less 
selfish  and  gi'cedy  constitution  of  society.  }iut  this  gi-eat  change 
must  be  effectuated  by  a  livelier  sense  of  the  stringency  of  moral 
obligations— by  a  substitution  of  the  idea  of  duty  for  the  degrading 
though  arrogant  notion  of  right;  (a  position  emphatically  asserted 
by  M.  Comte,  but  not  announced  by  liim  alone,  nor,  'sve  think,  first ;) 
by  a  revivification  of  human  charities  and  susceptibihties;  by  the 
appreciation  of  -^"orth  above  intellect,  and  genuine  goodness  above 
all  other  qualities.  So  far  ^ve  run  parallel  ^vith  the  aims  of  ^I.  Comte, 
and  cordially  agree  with  them ;  but  our  agreement  is  subject  to  the 
same  limitations  as  the  concurrence  of  Leibnitz  -with  the  physical 
speculations  of  Descartes.-^  Such  a  vital  reformation  of  society,  as 
is  thus  proposed,  can  be  achieved  only  through  the  instrumentality 
of  a  renewed  faith  in  things  divine;  by  rekindling  a  spirit  of  sub- 
missive obedience  to  the  prescriptions  of  God  and  the  teaching  of 
revelation ;  by  the  restoration  of  Christian  doctrine  to  its  true  posi- 
tion as  the  authoritative  rule  of  human  conduct,  instead  of  regard- 
ing it,  as  is  now  too  often  the  case,  as  the  mere  holiday  profession 
of  a  Pharisaical  hypocrisy  or  sanctimonious  self-delusion.  It  is 
this  war  between  profession  and  practice,  between  our  pretended 
creeds  and  our  pursuits,  between  the  spirit  of  Christianity  and  the 
temptations  of  mammon,  between  faith  and  reason,  between  the 
heart  and  the  intellect,  between  the  fear  of  the  devil  and  the  love  of 
f^old,  which  has  offered  so  rnauy  practicable  breaches  to  all  the  assail- 
ants of  Christianity,  and  has  strewed  the  world  with  the  seeds  which 
have  sprung  up  into  an  abund.-int  harvest  of  the  most  poisonous 
weeds.  Before,  however,  this  renovation  of  the  true  spirit  of  relig- 
ion can  be  effected,  or,  at  any  rate,  coincident  with  its  germination, 
a  negative  reform  at  least  of  our  habits  of  reasoning  is  rec[uired. 
We  must  reexamine  the  conditions  of  human  thought,  discover  the 
characteristics  of  cognizable  truth,  determine  the  limitations  beyond 
which  human  reasoning  and  si)eculation  cannot  hope  to  bo  valid, 
renounce  the  arrogance  of  our  intellectual  self-confidence,  and  the 
sophistical  presumption  of  the  aspiring  intellect;  we  must  reconsti- 
tute our  logic,  find  the  grounil  of  harmony  between  our  reason  and 
the  faith  required  for  the  reception  of  divine  ordinances,  and  once 
more,  like  little  children,  recommence  our  education  in  things  human 
and  divine.  This  preliminary  task  is  absolutely  essential.  Before 
we  can  pretend  to  any  satisfactory  and  settled  belief  in  a  Christian 
doctrine,  wiiich  may  regulate  our  lives,  we  must  discover  and  reject 

°  "Metlio'li  ejus  tfintnin  projiosilum  anio;  n.-^ni  quum  iti  rem  prcesentem  ventum 
est,  ab  ilia  severitate  prorsus  remisit,  et  ad  hypotlusei  qtiasdam  miras  ex  abrupto 
delapsufi  est." 


512  The  Bacon  of  tlic  Nineteenth  Century.        [October, 

those  latent  fallacies  in  our  habitual  maxims  and  reco^iised  princi- 
ples of  thought  and  action,  -which  militate  against  Clu-istianity,  and 
introduce  into  our  minds  an  apparently  fatal  and  irremediable  dis- 
cord between  the  conclusions  of  science  and  the  doctrines  of  revela- 
tion. We  may  hail  a  philosophy,  -which  may  be  competent  to  do 
all  this,  as  something  even  greater  than  the  Novum  Organon,  or 
the  whole  scheme  of  that  Instauratio  Magna,  which  Bacon  sketched 
in  outline,  but  never  completed.  From  it  we  may  hope  for  an  alle- 
viation of  present  -j^oliticul  disorder,  and  the  removal  of  the  present 
intense  social  distress.  Wc  may  expect  it  to  strcngtlien  the  empire 
of  religion  while  extending  the  bounds  of  knowledge ;  and  to  ele- 
vate and  ennoble  human  science,  while  ministering  to  the  more 
efficient  satisfaction  of  the  real  Avants,  not  of  the  caprices  or  pas- 
sions of  men.  From  it,  too,  we  may  anticipate  the  restoration  of 
the  true  dignity  of  man,  which  will  be  no  longer  left  to  be  the  acci- 
dents of  wealth,  of  popular  clamour,  or  of  seductive  talents.  It  will 
consecrate  the  heart  to  tlie  service  of  God,  to  the  full  discharge  of 
every  duty,  to  the  sympathizing  benefaction  of  humanity.  It  will 
subject  the  intellect,  however  brilliunt,  to  the  prescriptions  of  a 
genial  morality,  and  employ  it  as  the  minister,  but  no  longer  as  the 
tyrant,  of  right  affections  and  lofty  sentiments.  It  will  discrown 
that  intellectual  despotism  which  has  paralyzed  the  more  generous 
springs  of  human  action,  has  withered  the  green  verdure  of  sim- 
plicity and  innocence,  and  has  dried  up  the  refreshing  fountains  at 
which  the  weary  traveller  through  the  arid  wilderness  of  worldly 
life  was  of  old  wont  to  fpiench  his  thirst.  Such  is  the  philosophy 
for  which  we  yearn,  and  in  which  alone  we  will  consent  to  repose 
our  hopes.  Such  a  philosophy,  we  believe,  will,  before  many  more 
long  years,  be  A'ouchsafed  to  us.  We  wait  patiently  for  its  advent: 
and  recognising  with  grateful  admiration  what  is  true  and  valuable 
in  Positivism,  we  shall  not  suffer  ourselves  to  be  seduced  by  it,  or 
any  other  scheme  narrower  than  the  one  which  we  have  indicated. 
We  want  something  more  than  Positivism,  something  more  accord- 
ant with  the  more  mysterious  and  lofty  aspirations  of  our  half-an- 
gdic,  half-human  nature.  That  purely  humanitarian  philosophy, 
starting  from  the  mere  material  frame-work  of  creation,  sees  nothing 
beyond  it  but  the  operation  of  phenomenal  laws,  without  ascending 
to  the  Lawgiver,  and  limits  the  highest  range  of  its  flight  to  the 
deification  of  humanity,  without  attaining  to  the  acknowledgment 
of  the  Creator  of  the  universe,  on  -^diom  man,  as  all  things  else,  are 
dependent.  This  anthropological  fetichism — for  it  is  a  recurrence  to 
the  lowest  and  earliest  form  of  heathen  superstition — is  the  culmi- 
nating point  of  the  despotism  of  the  intellect.     As  we  wander 


1853.]  The  Growid  of  Moral  Obligation:  513 

through  the  long,  systematic,  and  elaborately  constructed  system 
of  M.  Comte,  avo  cannot  but  recall  in  fancy  that  dazzling  but  terrific 
palace  of  art,  in  ^vhich  the  poet's  song  clothes  the  prophet's  \visdom, 
and  remember  hov/  the  intcHect,  the  mistress  of  that  vast  pile,  found 
the  domain,  ^vhieh  ackno^vlcdgod  no  jurisdiction  but  her  own,  barren, 
lifeless,  and  productive  only  of  despair  and  dismay:— 

"Back  on  herself  her  serpent  pride  had  curl'd — 

'No  voice,'  she  shriek M,  'iu  tiiat  lone  hall, 
No  voice  breaks  throu-h  the  stillness  of  this  T,-orld; 

One  deep — ilcep  silcnc-.'  all!' 

"She,  raouldering  -with  tlie  dull  earth's  mouldering  sod, 

Inwrapt  ten-fuM  in  j-lothful  shame, 
Lay  there,  exiled  from  the  eternal  God, 

Lost  to  her  place  and  name." 

Such  is  the  autocracy  of  the  intellect ;  such  nearly  all  the  philoso- 
phy of  the  nineteenth  century ;  such  prcL'minently  the  system  of 
M.  Comte,  and,  as  such,  it  is  weighed  iu  the  balance  and  found 
wanting;  and  we  look  forward  with  hope  to  a  better  time  and  better 
things  to  come. 


ART.n.— TIIE  GROUND  OF  JIOIIAL  OBLIGATION. 

By  ground  of  moral  obligation,  is  meant  the  reaso}i  or  cause  of  it; 
and  by  reason  or  cause,  not  the  cJ/Jcic?it  cause,  or  that  hj  which  it 
is  produced,  but  tho  Jlnal  reason  or  cause;  that  is,  the  ultimate 
end  foj-  which  it  is  produced. 

This  explication  of  the  principal  term  in  the  proposition  is  the 
more  important,  here  in  the  outset,  as  a  little  attention  to  the  sub- 
ject is  to  satisfy  us  that  the  ground  of  moral  obligation  and  the 
reason  of  it,  and,  consequently,  the  ultimate  ground  and  the  ultimate 
reason  of  it,  are  identical. 

Still  further  to  narrow  the  ])roposed  inquiry  -vve  remark,  that 
by  obligation  is  intended  the  consideration  which  oblirres  or  binds 
the  subject,  not  to  sutler  the  penalty  of  the  law— if  obhgation  in 
this  sense  could  be  supposed  to  hold  with  relation  to  it^but  to 
comply  with  its  precept;  and,  fmally,  that  by  moral  obhgation  is 
mainly  meant  the  obligation  which  man  is  under  to  obey  God. 

These  preliminaries  settled,  we  address  ourselves  to  the  inquiry, 
What  is  the  ground  of  moral  obligation  ?  The  most  obvious  answer 
is,  The  law  of  God.  Jkt  what  is  the  basis  of  the  law  of  God? 
Answer,  llelation;   which  is   the  basis   of  all  law.      And  what 


614  The  Growid  of  Moral  Obligation.  [October, 

relation  ?  The  absolute  propriety  which  the  Author  of  the  law  has 
in  the  subject  of  it.  "\Vhat  endues  him  with  that  propriety? 
Communication  of  being,  involving,  with  its  other  properties,  capa- 
bility for  the  required  obedience.  But  there  must  have  been  a 
cause,  ground,  or  reason  for  that  communication;  what  was  it? 
Proximately — though  this  is  to  speak,  not  of  a  moral,  but  the  efficient 
cause — it  Avas  volition  or  choice.  And  there  was  a  ground  on 
which  that  choice  was  c.xerci.^cd ;  what  was  that  ground  ?  Good- 
ness. Under  what  .^i)ecific  form?  Benevolence,  or  the  willing  of 
good  to  its  object.  Thus,  combining  the  latter  processes,  while 
Infinite  Goodness  willed  man's  existence,  he  also  willed  his  hap- 
piness, and  the  former  out  of  regard  to  the  latter. 

But  though  we  now  seem  to  have  reached  the  primitive  base  on 
which  the  other  and  upper  strata  are  superposed,  yet  neither  this 
nor  they  exhibit  tlie  natm-al  adai)tation  which  wo  have  a  right  to 
look  for  in  the  object  of  our  inquiry.  If  law  rests  on  relation,  and 
relation  on  ownersliip,  and  ownership  on  creation,  and  creation  on 
volition, — that  is,  goodness  willing  happiness  to  its  object, — the 
question  then  arises,  as  to  how  this  good-willing  can  constitute  the 
final  ground  or  reason  of  obligation.  That  final  reason,  whatever  it 
is,  must  be  identical  with  the  final  end,  out  of  regard  to  which  the 
Deity  imposes  obligation.  To  suppose  benevolence  in  him  to  be 
the  final  reason  of  obligation,  is  the  same  as  to  suppose  it  the  final 
end  of  it;  which  is  a  palpable  confounding  of  the  end  with  the 
means  to  Avhich  it  is  related.  For  benevolence  in  him  is  necessarily 
objective;  and  the  ol^ject  of  it  is  but  another  name  for  the  end  to 
which  it  is  related;  and  it  is. only  as  a  means  that  it  can  be  related 
to  it.  Therefore,  as  the  object  and  end  of  divine  benevolence  are 
necessarily  extraneous  to  it,  and  identical  with  each  other,  at  the 
same  time,  so  they  must  be  mutually  identical  with  that  only  object 
and  end  to  which  benevolence  can  have  any  intelligible  relation — 
the  happiness  of  being. 

And  this  final  end,  out  of  regard  to  which  the  divine  Agent  must 
have  imposed  obligation,  must  also  be  the  final  end  out  of  regard  to 
which  the  subject  ought,  that  is,  is  bound,  to  submit  to  it.  For  that 
which  is  a  reason  to  him  for  doing  so,  must,  as  the  very  term  im- 
plies, affect,  operate  on,  impress  him,  as  such;  as  otherwise  it 
would  be  a  contradiction  to  suppose  it  a  reason  to  him  for  the  action 
in  question,  or  for  anytliing  else.  But  benevolence,  (as  discriminate 
from  beneficence,)  that  is,  mere  good  will — as  it  does  not  affect  nor 
even  reach  its  object,  and  cannot  therefore  impress  him — has  in  it 
nothing  of  the  nature  of  a  reason,  either  for  the  claim  of  service  on 
the  one  hand,  or  for  its  rendition  on  the  other. 


1853.]  The  Ground  of  Moral  Obligation.  515 

We  say  yncre  benevolence.  No  being  is  qualified  to  impose  moral 
obligation  who  is  devoid  of  it;  but,  by' itself,  it  cannot  justify  its 
imposal.  Satan  is  devoid  of  it;  and,  for  that  reason,  -whatever 
other  qualifications  we  mij^ht  suppose  him  to  possess — as  omnis- 
cience and  omnipotence— lie  could  bind  no  being  to  his  service. 
And  he  could  not,  for  the  simple  reason  that,  being  essentially  void 
of  goodness,  he  is  under  tlic  moral  disability  of  -sYilling  good, 
from  -which  results  the  corresponding  distdjility  of  doing  it,  and 
from  all  of  which  -^vould  ultimately  result,  that  the  only  considera- 
tion -^-hich  impresses  moral  obligation  -would,  in  his  case,  be  a 
moral  impossibihty.  Omniscience  and  omnipotence,  then,  cannot 
impose  obligation  on  other  grouml  than  that  of  good,  or  well-being, 
produced  in  the  subject  of  it.  The  anchoret,  on  the  other  hand, 
•whatever  amount  of  benevolence  we  suppose  him  to  possess,  cannot, 
merely  on  that  ground,  bind  the  object  to  his  service ;  because,  as 
that  mental  action  is,  from  the  obvious  nnture  of  it,  limited  to  his 
own  bosom,  and  so  does  neither  reach  nor  affect  its  object,  to  suppose 
it  to  bind  him,  at  the  same  time,  is  to  suppose  a  contradiction. 

Neither  sheer  goodness,  nor  that  intransitive  action  of  it  which 
only  wills  the  bestowmcnt  of  good  on  its  object,  can  create  obliga- 
tion. To  do  this  it  must  not  only  act  within  itself,  but  it  must  go 
out  of  itself.  It  must  reach  its  object,  and  it  must  act  upon  it.  It 
must  not  only  will  to  do  it  good,  but  it  must  do  it  the  good  Avhlch 
it  wills.  The  former  act  is  benevolence,  the  latter  is  beneficence, — 
that  wills  good,  this  doe.-i  it. 

As  a  precedent  and  concurrent  condition,  benevolence,  as  has 
been  already  explained,  is  indispensable  to  obligation.  iVs  an  inter- 
mediate cause,  it  is  also  indispensable;  and  it  is  so  in  both  these 
characters  for  the  reason  that,  as  obligation  depends  on  good  done 
to  the  subject,  so  the  act  which  affects  that  good,  does  as  naturall}' 
depend  on  the  benevolence  or  good-will  of  the  agent,  as  his  good- 
"will  depends  on  his  goodness. 

But  it  is  the  good  done  which  finally  causes  obligation,  and  not 
the  mere  willing  of  good, — any  more  than  it  is  mere  goodness,  or 
creation,  or  propriety,  or  relation,  or  law.  Eenevolence  wills  you 
an  estate,  subject  to  a  ])roviso  that  you  shall  make  it  pay  him  cer- 
tain annual  returns;  but  the  rendition  of  the  returns  cannot  be 
felt  as  matter  of  actual  obligation  for  any  other  final  reason  than 
that  of  actual  investment.  Here  is  law;  here  is  relation:  here  is 
propriety;  here  is  volition;  here  is  goodness.  Here  also  is  good- 
ness Avilling;  and  here,  finally,  is  goodness  acting — acting  directly 
on  the  subject  of  the  obligation,  and  in  such  a  way  as  to  create  the 
obligation  by  the  identical  act  which  imposes  it. 


516  The  Ground  of  Moral  Obligation.  [October, 

Benefit,  then — good  done  to  the  subject,  to  -which  beneficence  in 
the  agent  corresponds,  as  a  cause  to  its  effect — is  the  ultimate  and 
proper  ground  of  "what  ^ve  call  moral  obligation.  In  all  its  innu- 
merable modifications,  as  recognised  among  men — whether  legal, 
social,  or  political — it  stands  upon  this  ground :  nor  is  it  so  much 
as  possible  to  suppose  its  absence,  \v'ithout  putting  out  of  our  minds 
every  intelligible  conception  of  moral  obligation. 

That  it  is  obviously  ])rcscnt  in  a  great  majority  of  those  modifi- 
cations, will  not  be  disputed,  on  the  one  hand;  that  it  is  obscurely 
present  in  some,  is  admitted  on  the  other.  But  still,  it  is  present: 
for  instance,  in  the  obligation  which  relates  to  helpless  children 
and  the  poor.  In  these  and  similar  cases  Ave  feel  the  obligation, 
with  no  very  vivid  consciousness  of  the  constituent  benefit.  But, 
apart  from  the  development  and  indulgence  of  refined  and  en- 
nobling sympathies,  which  are  real  benefits,  we  draw  upon  the  con- 
sideration, that  the  interests  of  society  are  mutually  inseparable, 
and  that  our  present  and  future  well-being  is  conditioned  on  -our 
discharge  of  these,  with  our  other  obligations. 

That  moral  obligation  is  ultimately  based  on  benefit  or  well-being 
in  the  subject,  as  the  final  end  to  which  the  obligation  itself  is 
related,  is  shown  by  the  insufiiciency  of  all  other  assignable  grounds 
of  it,  as  well  as  by  the  manifest  absurdity  of  founding  that  obliga- 
tion on  any  or  all  such  grounds  ;  and,  finally,  ])y  the  terms  in  which 
it  is  stated  and  refen^ed  to  in  the  divine  rescript  itself. 

I.  Our  first  proof  tliat  God  can  impress  obligation  on  the  subject 
of  his  government  on  no  other  ground  than  that  of  communicated 
benefit,  is  derived  from  the  insufficiency  of  any  or  all  the  other 
reasons  ivhicli  can  he  ussis^ned  for  it. 

1.  Benevolence  in  God— to  resume  a  preliminary  topic,  not  to 
repeat,  but  to  add  a  single  thought — benevolence  in  him  is  not  a  suf- 
ficient ground  of  our  obligation  to  obey  him.  If  it  were  so,  then  would 
not  only  beneficence  be  a  superfluity  in  the  matter  of  such  cause 
for  obligation,  but  benevolence  itself,  which  consists  in  willing  good 
to  prospective  or  actual  being,  would  accomplish  the  whole  of  its 
ultimate  purpose,  as  far  as  moral  government  is  concerned,  without 
ever  effecting  that  very  good  which  it  has  willed; — a  supposition 
which  is  attended  by  the  farther  absurdity,  that  benevolence — which 
can  only  exercise  itself  with  relation  to  prospective  or  actual  being 
— is  satisfied  by  doing  so  with  relation  to  being  which  it  only  wills 
to  exist;  or  that — supposing  the  being  to  have  become  actual — 
it  can  satisfy  itself  by  giving  it  a  constitution  involving  no  benefit 
to  the  subject,  which  is  an  equal  absurdity.     But  if  benevolence. 


1853.]  The  Ground  of  Moral  Obligation.  517 

which  can  have  no  outgoini?  in  the  direction  of  its  object  hut 
through  the  niediuni  of  beneficence,  can  only  he  satisfied  by  reach- 
ing and  affecting  its  object  tlirougli  that  medium— and  it  -were  a 
contradiction  to  suppose  other\vi.se— then  it  follows,  that,  while 
beneficence  is  not  neces?ar>'  to  obligation,  benevolence  does,  neces- 
sarily, enlist  its  agency  in'the  premises,  notwithstanding:  and  how 
that  differs  from  auotlier  contradiction,  let  the  reader  judge. 

2.  If  willing  goodness,  producing  no  actual  good  to  the  object,  is 
not  a  sufficien°  ground  of  obligation,  abstract  goodness— goodness 
in  a  state  of -inaction— would  be  no  more,  nor  even  as  much  so,  for 
the  same  and  other  reasons  erpudly  obvious. 

3.  Nor  would  the  connnunication  of  existence,  with  its  known 
endowments,  present  a  sufficient  reason,  considered,  as  we  are  now 
considering  it,  apart  from  the  bestowment  of  benefit:  for,  in  that 
case,  as  existence,  with  its  endowments,  would  contain  no  considera- 
tion'of  any  value  to  the  subject,  it  could,  by  no  possibility,  impress 
him  with  any  other  than  a  fallacious  sense  of  such  obligation  as  is 
admitted  to  be  incumbent.  The  o])ligation  of  love  is  admitted  to 
be  incumbent— love  to  the  uncreated  ;  and  we  are  soon  to  see  that 
it  is  so  to  the  exclusion  of  everything  not  identical  Avith  its  own 
essence.  But  the  obligation  of  love  can  only  be  impressed  by  the 
consideration  upon  which  love  it<elf  is  impressible;  and  love  itself 
can  only  be  impressed  by  that  object  which  excites  desire;  and 
nothing  can  excite  desire  which  is  totally  devoid  of  value  to  the 
subject. 

Therefore,  as  love  itself,  so  also  the  obligation  of  it,  cannot  be 
impressed  by  a  worthless  consideration.  But  the  communication 
of  existence,  with  its  known  endowments,  abstracted  from  all  actual 
benefit  to  the  subject,  as  we  are  now  supposing  it,  would  have  no 
value ;  and,  by  consequence,  could  impress  him  with  no  other  than 
a' fallacious  sense  of  his  admitted  obligation.  This  will  be  seen  in 
a  still  clearer  light,  if  we  admit,  with  some  of  the  great  masters  of 
analytics,  that,  while  love  faltils  the  bond  of  obedience,  gratitude  is 
the  satisfaction  of  the  bond  of  love,— as  being  the  highest  exercise 
of  that  affection  of  which  the  finite  mind  is  capable.  At  all  events 
—and  it  is  sufiicicnt  for  the  present  purpose  of  the  argument— it  is 
admitted  that  gratitude,  as  a  large  component  of  love,  even  if  not 
wholly  inclusive  of  it,  is  matter  of  actually  incumbent  obligation; 
but  how  can  he  be  obliged  to  gratitude  who  has  received  no  favour? 
or  on  what  ground  can  he  bo  obliged  to  gratitude  but  that  of  his 
actual  receipt  of  favour? 

4,  If  the  bestowment  of  being,  with  only  such  appurtenances 
as  leave  it  void  of  good  to  the  subject,  and,  consequently,  void  of 


518  The  Ground  of  Moral  Obligation.  [October, 

any  matter,  motive,  or  reason  for  gratitude,  "svould  be  no  sufficient 
basis  of  obligation,  so  neither  could  the  relation  of  the  parties,  in  that 
case,  constitute  it.  For,  as  the  relation,  in  that  case,  depends  on  the 
communication  of  being,  -with  its  cndo-wmcnts,  the  former  could  not 
possibly  furnish  what  we  have  seen  is  not  found  in  the  latter;  for 
the  same  reason  that  an  effect  cannot  rise  above,  or  contain  more 
than  its  cause. 

5.  Leaving  behind  us,  as  we  have  done,  the  idea  of  good  done  to 
the  subject,  as  the  only  true  ground  of  moral  obligation,  we  have 
now,  with  one  exception,  examined  all  the  assignable  substitutes  for 
it,  with  no  other  result  than  that  of  their  utter  insufficiency.=^=  The 
exception  referred  to  is  the  law  itself. 

° Other  substitutes,  not  formally  included  in  tlio  above  enumeration,  are: — 
"The  Fitness  of  Tilings ;"  "The  Greatest  Good,-"  "The  Glory  of  God,  or,  The 
Manifestation  of  Divine  .HI- Sufficiency."  Drs.  Gudworth  and  Harris  represent 
tbe  first  and  the  third,  while  Professor  Finney,  of  our  o-wn  country,  is  the  vigor- 
ous asserter  of  the  second. 

As  the  fir.'^t  substantially  identifies  itself  with  the  supposition  that  relation 
supplies  the  last  rea.-on  f..r  the  obligation  of  moral  agents,  and  as  that  supposi- 
tion has  been  dealt  with  in  the  body  of  this  article,  any  further  notice  of  it  may 
be  dispensed  with  in  this  place. 

The  second,  which  bases  duty  on  the  greatest  good,  makes  this  to  include, 
not  merely  the  p-eatci<t  gixnl  of  creatures,  but  "the  greatest  good  of  God.'' 
This  is  admirably  explicit.  It  is  to  suppose  the  greatest  good  or  happiness  of  God, 
instead  of  being  eternal  and  dependant  on  nothing  out  of  himself,  depends,  partly 
at  least,  on  the  result  of  a  proceeding  had  in  time,  and  which  result,  for  that 
very  reason,  is,  necessarily,  not  infinite,  but  finite.  This  is  admirably  absurd. 
This  absui\lity  is  supposed  to  have  been  rendered  sufficiently  evident  in  the 
text;  but  there  is  one  asi)cct  of  the  professor's  theory  which  claims  a  more 
marked  attention.  It  is  this:  Tliat  wliile  the  greatest  good  underlies  obligation, 
as  being  the  final  reason  for  its  enactment,  and  consequently  the  object  to  be  accom- 
plished by  it,  that  object  is  to  be  sought  by  the  individual,  acting  under  his 
obligation,  not  on  his  own  account,  more  or  less — that  were  selfishness,  and  the 
sin  of  sins — but  simply  on  account  of  its  value  to  the  great  commonwealth  of 
being,  including  the  unoriginated.  A  must  not  affect  it  for  A,  nor  B  for  B ;  but 
B  must  do  it  for  A,  and  A  for  1'.;  while  both  must  do  it  for  all  the  rest,  and  be 
Tory  careful  that  that  cuuccm  be  iimoccnt  of  any  glances  at  their  own  interest 
in  the  object.  If.  in  tlic  great  issue,  either  is  to  find  his  own  interest  secure, 
well ;  but  woe  to  him  if  his  action  in  the  premises  chance  to  have  been  overtaken 
by  the  sin  of  caring  anything  about  it  for  his  oicn  sake.  And  should  it  finally 
appear  that  his  personal  interest  in  the  object  had  dropped  out  of  the  divine 
account,  or  that  it  was  never  i>j,  he  will  be  as  much  bound  as  ever  to  go  on, 
seeking  the  "  greatest  gootl ''  of  other  intelligences — mundane,  supra  and  infra- 
mundane,  solar  and  stellar,  cherubic,  seraphic,  angelic,  arch-arigelic,  and  divine 
— just  as  if  nothing  had  happened. 

To  the  mere  mortal,  not  emlued  with  the  exalted  mentality  which  achieves 
these  transcendental  roaches  of  abnormal  thought,  it  would  seem  quite  as  probable 
that,  siaco  an  interest  in  the  greatest  good  is  not  wholly  appropriated  by  the  Deitv, 


1853.1  The  Ground  of  Moral  OhUgation.  519 

"  Law  is  a  rule  of  action, — a  precept  or  command  coming  from  a 
superior  authority, — which  an  inferior  is  bound  to  obey."  Starting 
with  this  definition,  which  is  not  more  appKcablc  to  law,  generally, 

but  rendered  common,  among  othcrordors  of  intcHiL'cuccs,  to  those  of  human  kind, 
and  since  every  particular  individual  is  bouml,  as  such,  to  seek  the  general  inter- 
est, that  he  should  be  so  bound  by  motives  derived,  not  from  the  general  to  the 
exclusion  of  his  particular  interest,  but  from  those  which  include  the  particular 
with  the  general,— and  all  fur  t!ie  palpable  reason  tliat  the  particular  interest 
is  included  in  the  general,  and  tliat  that  particular  interest  is  as  much  his  in- 
terest, as  the  general  is  the  general  interest. 

Or,  if  the  general  is  not  supposed  to  contain  his  particular  interest,  nor,  con- 
sequently, to  warrant  his  derival  from  it  of  any  motive  of  particular  interest, 
then  equity  would  demand,  ho  being  shut  out  from  all  personal  and  particular 
interest  and  motive  in  the  promises,  that  his  obligation  to  seek  the  object  in 
question  should  be  equally  characterized  by  the  absence  of  the  personal  and 
particular;  so  that,  when  the  rewards  and  penalties  of  the  obligation  are  ad- 
ministered, his  partioipati'iu  in  the  one  s-hall  not  exceed  tlie  measure  of  his 
original  interest  in  tlie  other. 

That  no  divine  constitution  enforces  such  a  benevolence  as  is  irrespective  of 
personal  interest,  is  evident  from  the  following  hints  of  proof: — 

1.  Analogy.  It  is  a  settled  jirlneiple,  and  the  practice  under  it  is  uniform, 
that,  in  all  the  departments  of  social  life,  where  there  is  an  object  of  general 
interest,  it  is  right  for  the  individual  to  promote  it  under  the  influence  of 
motives  taken  from  hi.s  individual  interest  in  it. 

2.  "  Whatc'cr  the  Aliiiij,'hty's  subsequent  command. 
His  first  ci)mm.inJ  is  this,— Man,  love  thyself:" — 

a  law  as  all-controlling  as  the  God-implanted  instinct  which  coerces  the  hatred 
of  misery  and  the  love  of  hai>i>iiicss. 

3.  This  oldest  constitution,  whuse  import  is  as  unmistakable  as  universal 
consciousness,  and  which  can  only  be  cuntrolled  by  the  shi>ck  that  annihilates 
the  nature  to  Avhich  it  is  e.-'onlial.  Is  but  repeated  in  that  benign  edict:  "Thou 
shalt  love  thy  neighbour  as  tliyself."  That  self-love  is  right,  is  as  certain  as 
that  God  has  made  it  the  legal  sumdard  of  social  love,  and  that  he  would  not 
legalize  a  false  one. 

Thus  it  is  certain  that  no  law  is  extant  which  obliges  to  the  exercise  of  such 
a  regard  for  the  interests  of  otliers  as  nceessitatcs  indiflerence  to  our  own:  to 
infinite  goodness,  wisdom,  and  j^ower,  it  would  be  alike  impossible.  Wisdom 
and  goodness  could  neither  originate  nor  approve  it :  omnipotence  could  not 
enforce  it. 

The  third  of  these  alleged  causes  of  moral  requirement  is,  the  glory  of  God ; 
or,  as  the  author's  phrase  is.  "The  Manifestation  of  Divine  Ml-Siqpciency ;" 
which  he  explains  as  meaning,  generally,  the  exhibition  to  created  intelligeuoes 
of  his  own  infinite  excelleneies. 

That  any  manifestation  to  creatures  of  the  perfections  of  the  Deity  is  a 
desideratum  to  him,  for  reasons  ultimately  relating  to  his  own  well-being,  is  an 
absurdity,  the  reader  will  probably  think  is  made  sufliciently  apparent  in  the 
text.  If,  then,  such  manifestation  cannot  be  an  object  of  desire  to  him  for  any 
reason  finally  relating  to  himself,  it  results,  that,  to  him,  as  its  final  end,  such 
manifestation  is  not  a  good— has  no  value.    And  it  furtlier  results  either,  1.  That 


520  The  Groimd  of  Moral  Obligation.  [October, 

than  to  that  of  the  Deity  in  particular  we  remark,  that  the  con- 
sideration Avhich  gives  to  law  its  binding  force  does  not  reside  in 
the  law  itself.  The  proof  of  this  is  found  in  the  very  terms  of  the 
definition :  for,  according  to  those  terms,  law  must  issue,  not  only 
from  a  "superior"  being,  but  from  such  a  being  "having  authority" 
to  impose  it.  "Waiving  the  term  as  applied  to  derived  authority. 
we  can  only  understand  it,  in  its  relation  to  the  Divine  Doing,  as 
expressing  the  idea  of  his  original  right  to  the  government  of  his 
creatures,  ^ye  say  original ;  not  as  actually  antedating  the  bestow- 
ment  of  good,  but  potentially,— both  as  regards  the  good  itself  and 
the  bestowment  of  it.  Obviously,  then,  as  the  authority  of  law, 
which  simply  means  the  light  of  imposing  it,  is  not  contained  in  the 
law  itself  the  final  cause  of  imposing  it,  which  necessarily  lies  be- 
hind the  imposing  act,  must  also  be  sought  for,  not  in  the  law.  but 
out  of  it.  To  this  mu.st  be  added  the  absurdity  common  to  all  the 
other  substitutions,  that,  mIuIc  the  law  is  supposed  to  be,  not  only  the 
prescript  but  the  find  cause  of  obligation,  it  is  all  this— and  here  is 
the  common  absurdity— without  any,  the  least,  benefit  to  the  subject. 

The  path  by  which  we  are  to  prosecute  our  search  for  the  final 
cause  of  moral  obligation,  therefore,  does  not  terminate  in,  but  is 
distinctly  traceable  through,  laAv,  relation,  ownership,  creation,  good- 
ness, benevolence,  and  beneficence,*  to  this  tangential  point— the 
benefit  or  well-being  of  the  subject— as  the  immediate  and  true 
ground,  the  ultimate  reason  upon  which  its  awful  form  reposes. 

As  the  other  points  at  which  we  have  searched  for  our  object  do 
not  severally  disclose  it,  it  were  scarcely  worthy  of  our  time  to  test 
their  joint  ability  to  do  so;  for  having  no  individual  competency,* 
their  totalit}^  can  possess  none. 

Though  some  of  these  supposed  causes— as  goodness  and  benevo- 
lence—arc really  such,  yet,  standing  as  they  do,  at  several  removes 
from  the  ultimate  cause,  they  are,'  speaking  grummatice,  penulti- 
mate, antepenultimate,  or  otherwise,  according  to  their  degrees  of 
distance  froui  the  ultimate  cause.  In  a  word,  they  are  intermediate ; 
whereas  we  arc  in  quest  of  a  cause  which  is  so  in  the  meaning  of 
an  end— ///r  end,   the  final  end,  or  purpose— for  attaining  which 

such  nianifcstiitioii  is  a  good  in  itself,  and  not  relatively,  which  is  absurd ;  or, 
2.  That  it  is  neither  a  pood  in  itself,  nor  relatively  to  any  being,  or  in  'any 
sense  whatevor ;  or,  3.  Tjiat  it  U  a  good  to  the  creature.s  to  -n-hom  it  is  made  ;  and 
that,  as  they  an-  the  only  beings  to  whom  it  can  bo  an  ultimate  good,  it  is  an 
ultimate  good  to  them,  and,  consequently,  that  their  well-being  is  the  on  I  v  ulti- 
mate end  to  which  it  can  be  relnteJ.  For  tlie  consideration  of  those  Scriptures 
which  are  supposed  to  conflict  with  the  teleology  of  this  article,  the  reader  is 
referred  to  a  note  in  the  third  general  section. 
"Beneficence  is  hero  to  be  understood  subjectively. 


1853.]  The  Grotind  of  Moral  Obligation.  521 

moral  obligation  has  been  instituted,  and  hence  denominated  the 
final  cause,  inasmuch  as  it  "was  the  desideratum  -which  caused  the 
divine  Mind  to  produce  moral  obligation,  as  the  best  adapted  means 
for  the  attainment  of  the  desired  end. 

In  the  light  of  these  distinctions,  now,  it  is  hoped,  sufficiently 
clear  to  the  reader,  it  Avill  be  perceived,  that  the  remaining  claimants 
of  the  honour  in  question — creation,  ownership,  relation,  and  lavr — 
are,  from  their  greater  remoteness  in  nature  and  position,  still  more 
deeply  involved  in  the  common  inaptitude.  They  are  conditions — 
precedent  and  concurrent — without  wliich  moral  obligation  could  not 
have  been  produced;  wliile,  at  tlic  same  time,  as  we  flatter  ourselves, 
it  has  been  already  shown,  they  can  neither  be  the  final  reason  for 
such  obligation,  nor  take,  in  our  minds,  the  place  of  it.  To  illus- 
trate this  distinction:  Obligation  cannot  exist  without  subjects: 
nor  they  without  creation ;  nor  creation  without  involving  certain 
relations.  Creation,  therefore,  with  its  subjects  and  relations,  is 
indispensable  to  moral  obligation.  But  it  can  be  only  as  a  con- 
dition that  it  is  so,  and  not  as  the  final  cause ;  for  the  reason  that 
creation  being  the  exhibition  of  notliing  more  than  the  efiicient 
cause  of  things,  is  as  naturally  incapable  of  being  the  final  cause  of 
obligation,  or  indeed  of  anything  else,  as  the  production  of  a  thing 
is  incapable  of  being  the  reason  of  tluit  production, — or  vice  versa. 

That  these,  and  possibly  other  i<leas,  not  included  in  our  canvass, 
are  severally  entitled,  according  to  their  natures  and  relations,  to 
enter  either  among  the  conditions  or  subordinate  causes  of  the 
obligation  in  question,  is  readily  admitted.  But  so  far  are  they 
from  constituting  the  ultimate  cause  of  it,  that  they  derive  their 
sole  value,  as  conditions  an-i  subordinate  causes,  from  that  final 
cause  which  underlies  them — in  as  far  as  they  are  conditions  and 
subordinate  causes — as  it  underlies  the  whole  structure  of  divine 
moral  government  in  all  departments  of  the  universe.* 

II.  That  moral  obligation  is  imposed  out  of  regard  to  the  well-being 
of  its  subjects,  and  that  regard  to  that  object  is  the  sole  and  final 

^'To  obviate  misapprehension:  This  final  cause  is  here  said  to  underlie  its 
subordinates — these  being  taken  a>-  ineludinj;  the  attribute  of  divine  goodness — 
in  the  sense  of  bcin;?  the  object  to  which  tlioy  are  related,  and  on  vrhich,  as  being 
so,  they  are  dependant.  Having  instanced  gootlness,  we  add  that,  as  a  divine 
attribute,  it  offers  itself  to  our  consideration  under  two  aspects, — the  subjec- 
tive, iu  wliioh  sense  it  is  absolute,  that  is,  unrelated  to  objects  external  to  the 
Deity;  and  objective,  a  term  which  marks  it-i  r.lation  to  such  ol'jeets:  it  is  in 
this  latter  sense  that  the  affirmation  is  made  of  it  in  the  text.  As  objective,  it 
is  relative;  and,  by  consequence,  derives  its  e.xisteucc  and  sole  value,  as  the 
subject  of  that  relation,  from  the  object  of  it. 

Fourth  Series.  Vol.  V. — 33 


522  The  Ground  of  Moral  Obligation.  [October, 

reason  of  its  imposal,  is  further  attested  hj  the  absurdities  which 
follow  the  opposite  proposition. 

If  creatures  are  bound  to  the  service  of  God  on  other  grounds 
or  for  other  reasons  than  such  as  are  ultimately  related  to  their  well- 
being,  it  follows, 

1.  That  they  are  bound  to  the  performance  of  impossibilities. 
He  has  bound  them  to  love  him,  and  to  nothing  else ;  to  nothing 

else,  we  mean,  which  is  not  naturally  resolvable  into  this.  But,  as 
has  been  already  shown,  it  is  impossible  to  love  an  object  for  that 
which  is  not  equally  a  reason  for  desiring  it ;  and  it  is  impossible 
we  should  feel  that  to  be  a  reason  for  desiring  an  object  which  does 
not  invest  it  with  an  adaptation  to  our  happiness.  By  a  plain  con- 
sequence, therefore,  if  creatures  are  bound  to  the  service  of  God 
for  any  other  than  a  cause  ultimately  related  to  theh'  happiness, 
they  are  bound  to  the  performance  of  impossibilities. 

Further:  as  the  service  to  which  he  binds  us  is  resolvable 
into  love,  so  the  love  to  which  he  binds  us  is  resolvable  into 
gratitude.  Of  the  correctness  of  this,  as  the  last  analysis  of  the 
subject,  the  reader  will  find  additional  evidence  in  another  place. 
But  this  modification  of  love  depends,  for  its  first  breath,  on  the 
consciousness  of  beuofit  received  from  him  to  whom  it  is  offered. 
If  benefit  then  be  not  the  ground  or  reason  upon  which  God  claims 
the  obcdioncc  of  love,  and  the  love  of  gratitude,  it  follows  that  he 
claims  it  on  no  grounds  at  all ;  inasnmch  as  communicated  good  is 
the  only  possible  ground  on  which  he  can  claim  it.  Obedience  to  such 
a  claim  would  bo  an  absolute  impossibility,  which,  if  made  in  one, 
might  be  made  in  any  and  in  all  cases.  No  being  in  the  universe 
could  act  with  a  more  palpable  disregard  of  the  plainest  principles 
of  moral  equity. 

2.  If  the  happiness  of  his  subjects  is  not  the  final  cause  of  his 
claim  to  their  service,  it  is  impossible  to  conceive  of  a  final  cause 
for  it.  If  the  happiness  of  any  being  constitutes  that  cause,  it  must 
be  that  of  his  subjects  or  his  own;  for  the  universe  is  divided 
between  them.  Is  it  his  own?  Does  his  claim  upon  his  creatures 
stand  on  the  ground  of  his  regard  to  his  own  ultimate  well-being? 
Call  it  what  you  will  that  he  claims  from  them, — obedience,  service, 
homage,  honour,  glory, — if  demanded  out  of  ultimate  regard  to 
himself,  it  must  be  fijr  the  reason  that  his  o\m  ultimate  advantage, 
interest,  happiness,  is  augmentable  by  it.  Or  if  his  well-being  is  not 
augmentable  by  it,  while  he  still  demands  it  for  a  reason  ultimately 
relating  to  himself,  that  reason,  examined  in  the  light  of  that  very 
relation,  resolves  itself  into  no  reason  at  all. 

Either  way,  the  assumption  that  God  imposes  moral  obligation 


1853.]  The  Grou7id  of  Moral  Obligation.  523^ 

out  of  final  regard  to  himself  is  clearly  atheistic  in  some  of  its  near- 
est and  most  obvious  consequences :  for  that  Avhich  is  inconsistent 
with  one  or  more  of  the  absolute  perfections  of  the  Peity,  is,  by  a 
plain  consequence,  inconsistent  \vith  the  existence  of  the  Deity  itself. 
But  the  assumption  in  question  is  inconsistent  both  with  the  perfec- 
tion of  absolute  happiness,  and  with  the  perfection  of  absolute  self- 
sufficiency,  on  which  it  naturally  depends ;  and  so,  by  ultimate  con- 
sequence, undeifies  the  Deity.  For  if  his  well-being  can  be  affected 
by  anything  out  of  himself— as  the  government,  or  result  of  the 
government  of  moral  intelligences — it  follows  that  neither  is  his 
happiness  absolute,  nor  that  self-suiTicience  on  which  absolute  hap- 
piness naturally  depends.  But  his  happiness  being  absolute,  be- 
sides the  more  obvious  impossibility  that  it  should  spring  from  any 
foreign  origin,  or  admit  of  increase,  it  involves  a  contradiction  to 
suppose  it  to  be  an  end,  and  related,  as  such,  to  moral  obligation, 
as  a  JiEANS  or  instrument  by  which  it  can  either  be  produced,  in- 
creased, or  affected,  in  any  sense  whatever;  inasmuch  as  it 
is  identical  with  the  supposition  tiiat  it  is  at  once  both  absolute 
and  relative,  which  is  a  plain  contradiction.  His  well-being,  there- 
fore, cannot  by  any  possibility  be  a  final  reason  for  the  demand  in 
question. 

If,  then,  the  happiness  of  his  subjects  does  not  supply  the  reason 
upon  which  their  obedience  is  demanded,  it  must,  of  necessity,  be 
demanded  on  some  reason,  if  (u>>/,  which  involves  no  benefit  to  any 
being  in  the  universe.  How  tliat  whicii  contahis  nothing  of  good  to 
any  being  in  the  wide  realm  of  the  Creator,  and  is  therefore  good  for 
nothing,  can  be  a  reason  for  the  action  of  a  Being  infinitely  wise 
and  good ;  and,  especially,  how  it  can  be  the  reason  upon  which  he 
grounds  that  action  which  binds  all  intelligences  to  his  throne, 
defies  all  intelligible  conception. 

3.  If  God  obliges  his  subjects  to  a  service  which,  whether  found 
upon  due  analysis  to  consist  wholly,  or,  though  largely,  only  in 
part,  of  gratitude;  if  he  thus  obliges  them,  for  no  reason  whatever, 
as  follows  from  our  first  rcditctin  ad  absurdiim ;  or  if  he  obliges 
them  for  some  reason  involving  nothing  of  good  to  any  being  in  the 
universe,  as  results  from  the  second ;  then,  with  the  well-being  of 
his  subjects  before  him,  as  matter  for  his  reason  in  placing  them 
under  obligation  to  him — the  only  objects  whose  well-being  could 
have  supplied  the  reason  for  so  doing — he  must  have  decided  to 
waive  it  in  favour  of  no  reason  at  all,  or  of  such  a  reason  as  concenis 
itself  with  the  interest  of  no  being  in  the  universe.  Still  further  to 
condense  this  conclusion :  in  the  only  tran.saction  of  any  value  or 
consequence  to  created  intelligences,  God  has  chosen  to  act  without 


524  TJie  Ground  of  Moral  Obligation.  [October, 

reason,  or  with  only  such  as  is  foreign  to  the  interest  of  any  being 
in  existence.  Or  still  raore  briefly :  God  binds  us  to  moral  good- 
ness, for  no  good  reason  -whatever.  For  certainly  that  can  be 
no  good  reason  Tihich  involves  no  good  to  being, — i.  e.,  sentient  and 
conscious  being ;  unless,  indeed,  it  could  be  established  that  good  ex- 
ists by  itself,  and  not  relatively ;  or,  at  least,  that  sentient  and  con- 
scious beings  should  be  placed  under  bonds  for  the  benefit  of  those 
who  are  wholly  insentient  and  unconscious. 

4.  A  being  who  could  employ  his  power  and  wisdom  in  the  crea- 
tion and  government  of  moral  agents  on  some  other  ground  than  that 
of  their  happiness,  thus  proving  himself  indifferent  to  their  interests, 
is  clearly  devoid  of  any  appreciable  philanthropy,  and  stands  before 
the  universe  in  the  character  of  utter  apatliism,  or  of  supreme  self- 
ishness. In  a  word — for  it  comes  to  this — such  a  being  is  not 
God. 

5.  Such  a  being,  among  men,  if  clothed  with  authorit}" — such 
authority  as  naked  intelligence  and  power  alone  can  furnish — would 
be  called  a  t}Taut;  and  if  the  intelligence  and  power  were  unlimited, 
so  also  would  be  the  tyrant  and  the  t3Tanny:  for  he  who  does  not 
make  the  well-being  of  his  subjects  the  controlling  motive  of  his 
administration,  will  unscrupulously  disregard  or  sacrifice  that  well- 
being  that  he  may  reach  his  own  selfish  ends,  or  whatever  else  that 
other  object  consists  of,  out  of  regard  to  which  he  may  be  supposed 
to  have  acted  in  the  premises. 

6.  And,  finally,  the  mandate  of  such  a  being,  imposed  out  of 
ultimate  regard  to  some  other  end  than  the  public  good,  and  con- 
sequently adapted  and  made  eflicient  for  accomplishing  that  other 
end,  whatever  it  may  be,  and  not  the  public  good — the  only  ultimate 
end  of  a  wise  and  beneficent  government — such  mandate,  imposed 
for  such  reason,  and  to  such  an  end.  could  impress  the  individual  or 
public  mind  with  no  sense  of  just  obligation,  and  it  could  be  thrown 
off  without  the  taint  of  crime. 

Such  are  some  of  the  absurdities  legitimately  issuing  from 
the  substitution  of  any  final  cause  of  moral  obligation,  other  than 
the  well-being  of  its  subjects.  The  government  of  such  a  being, 
absolute  in  his  own  blessedness,  can,  in  the  nature  of  things,  stand 
on  no  other,  because  it  can  stand  on  no  higher  or  more  commanding 
ground.  He  could  have  had  no  higher  reason  for  its  institution; 
he  can  enforce  it  b}'  no  consideration  more  imperative.  With  no 
interest  of  his  own  to  be  provided  for,  what  could  possibly  have 
been  a  worthier  motive  in  him  who  governs  ?  what  can  possibly 
weigh  more  with  those  he  governs  than  their  happiness  ? 

As  an  ultimate   end,  is  there  a  greater  good?    Is  holiness  a 


1853.]  The  Ground  of  Moral  Obligation.  525 

greater?  Rather,  high  as  holiness  is,  ns  an  end,  is  it  not,  in 
its  relation  to  happiness,  a  means  for  reaching  another,  a  higher, 
the  highest  end? — an  end  ■which,  as  we  can  conceive  of  nothing 
more  valuable,  our  mental  constitution  forces  us  to  regard  as 
that  end  beyond  Avhich  there  can  bo  no  other.  If  this  is  not  the 
true  relative  position  of  the  two  ideas,  it  remains  that  a  change 
of  their  relation  exhibits  them  in  tlie  true  position, — i.  e.,  that, 
instead  of  holiness  being  tlie  means  of  happiness,  happiness  is  the 
means  of  holiness ;  or,  finalh',  that  there  is  no  such  relation  be- 
tween them  as  that  of  a  means  and  an  end;  that  neither  is 
happiness  the  means  of  holiness,  nor  holiness  the  means  of — the 
path  that  leads  to — happiness.  Again,  therefore,  is  the  conclusion 
forced  upon  us,  that  the  government  of  the  empire  of  mind  can,  by 
no  moral  possibility,  Iiavc  been  undertaken  otherAvise  than  as  a 
system  of  means  for  accomplishing  the  happiness  of  the  subjects 
of  that  vast  and  ever-growing  empire;  and  that,  by  final  conse- 
quence, that  object  was  the  final  cause  of  its  institution. 

To  the  assumption  that  any  other  than  an  infinite  end  is  unwor- 
thy the  action  of  an  infinite  Jieing ;  and  that,  as  the  happiness 
of  creatures  is  not  infinite,  it  is  unworthy  of  being  the  end  of 
his  action;  we  reply,  that  such  an  end  would  be  unworthy  of  such 
action,  were  the  action  it?clf  infinite,  as  the  end  is  finite.  But 
we  are  speaking  not  of  action  ad  intra,  but  ad  extra.  The  clear 
distinction  between  the  two  is  this :  when  the  Infinite  is  the  object 
of  his  own  action,  he  acts  infinitely;  as  when  he  conceives  of 
or  knows  himself,  he  conceives  or  knows  infinitely.  But  for  the 
same  reason  that,  when  he  conceives  of  or  knows  an  object  external 
to  himself,  which,  because  it  is  external,  is  necessarily  finite,  he 
conceives  of  or  knows  it  not  infinitely,  but  finitely, — he  can  only 
act  finitely  in  relation  to  finite  objects.  And  the  reason  is  plain 
from  hence,  that  as  the  true  idea  of  action  is  the  idea  of  an  actual 
cause,  as  distinguislicd  from  a  cause  in  the  potential  sense:  and 
as  it  is  as  necessary  that  the  actual  effect  of  an  actual  cause  should 
equal  that  cause,  as  that  the  actual  cause  should  equal  the  actual 
efifect,  to  afllrm  infinite  ad  extra  action  of  the  Deity,  is  to  affirm  that 
the  ad  extra  effect  or  object  of  that  action  is  also  infinite :  which, 
besides  amounting  to  a  concession  of  the  main  point  at  issue — that  a 
finite  cannot  be  the  ultimate  end  of  divine  action — implies  a  contra- 
diction ;  as  the  existence  of  more  than  one  infinite  object  is  a  natural 
impossibility.  Therefore,  vast  as  is  the  effect  of  divine  action, — in 
the  creation,  conservation,  and  government  of  the  universe, — as  that 
effect  is  strictly  finite,  so  also  is  the  action  which  produces  it. 

This  easy  distinction  effected,  it  were  obvious  to  remark,  that 


526  The  Ground  of  Moral  Obligation.  [October, 

instead  of  supposing  a  waste  of  action  in  reaching  the  end  in  ques- 
tion, we  only  suppose  the  action  which  reaches  that  end  to  be 
adapted  quantitively,  as  we  have  seen  it  must  he  quahtativcly,  to  the 
object  itself.  On  the  whole,  we  are  brought  to  the  conclusion — 
■whether  just,  or,  being  so,  whether  it  takes  the  key-stone  out  of  any 
venerable  theory  on  this  subject,  let  him  who  can  and  dares  think 
otherwise  than  by  prescription,  judge — that  the  ever-increasing 
happiness  of  mpiads  of  intelligences,  as  the  ultimate  end  of  the 
divine  action  in  their  creation  and  government,  can  never  be  proved 
from  the  nature  of  that  action  to  be  an  end  unworthy  of  the  expense 
incuiTcd  in  producing  it.  Both  are  vast  beyond  conception,  but 
both  are  limited.  "Who  shall  say  that  they  are  not  worthy  of  each 
other  ■? 

III.  That  moral  government  exists,  and  asserts  its  claim  out  of  ulti- 
mate regard  to  the  happiness  of  the  subject,  and  for  the  subordinate 
reason  of  its  instrumental  adaptation  to  that  end,  is  shown,  thirdly, 
by  the  divine  laio  itself,  ivhich  distinctly  and  repeatedly  urges 
its  claim  on  this  ground,  and  which  never  does  it  on  any 
other.  For  though,  as  we  have  seen,  the  law  does  not  contain 
the  matter  of  the  reason  upon  which  its  claim  is  founded,  its 
habit  is  that  of  frequent  reference  to  it.  In  passing,  however, 
to  this  section  of  the  arguraent,  our  attention  is  due  to  that 
small  class  of  texts  supposed  to  conclude  against  the  teleo- 
logical  scope  of  this  writing.  And  here  our  limits  constrain  us, 
instead  of  treating  them  hermeneutically,  and  in  detail,  to  collect 
what  is  taken  to  be  their  common  signification,  leaving  the  reader 
not  only  to  perceive  its  harmony  with  our  general  principles  and 
deductions,  but  to  judge  whether  any  received  canon  of  exegesis  can 
find  them  fairly  seized  of  any  other. 

"  Of  him,  and  through  him,  and  to  him,  are  all  things."  "  He 
hath  made  all  things  for  himself."  "For  thy  pleasure  they  are 
and  were  created."  AVith  which  collate:  "My  goodness  extendeth 
not  to  thee,  but  to  the  saints."  "  God  is  not  worshipped  as  though 
he  needed  anything"  Taken  together,  these  passages  authorize 
the  following  harmony  of  conclusions  : — 

1.  That  God  is  the  origin  of  the  external  universe,  together  with 
its  relations  and  laws,  and  whatever  duly  results  from  either  or  all. 

2.  That  this  origination  of  existence,  together  with  the  control  of 
it  by  appropriate  laws— physical  and  moral — is  not  for  any  reason 
ultimately  relating  to  himself  particularly. 

3.  That  right  moral  action,  and  consequently  the  obligation  of 
such  action,  as  they  are  aUke  limited  in  kind  and  consequence, 


1853.]  The  Ground  of  Moral  Obligation.  527 

have  no  natural  adaptation  or  tendency  to  affect  his  well-being  in 
any  proper  sense  -whatever. 

4.  That  creation,  conservation,  and  the  exercise  of  rectoral 
authority,  are  for  the  ultimate  purpose  of  his  benevolence,  as  con- 
ditions and  media  of  the  hapj)ine?s  of  liis  creatures : 

5.  That,  under  his  all-controUinc^  skill  and  energy,  all  beings,  his 
dominion  over  them,  together  with  all  that  duly  results  from  both 
or  either,  are  subservient  to  that  ultimate  purpose ;  and,  finally, 

6.  It  is  in  this  sense,  that  "  all  things  are  to  him,"  "for  him," 
and  "for  his  pleasure;"  inasmuch  as,  having  originated  in  him,  as 
conditions  and  means  of  happiness  to  his  creatures,  they  thus 
return  to  him,  by  becoming  tributary  to  that  same  ultimate 
pui'pose. 

But  we  are  now  to  verify  the  general  remark,  that  while  the 
divine  law  urges  its  claim  on  the  ground  of  the  finite  interests  to  be 
subserved  bylt;  and  while  its  habit  is  that  of  frequent  reference  to 
that  object  as  the  declared  reason  for  its  action,  it  never  intimates 
the  existence  or  operation  of  any  other  reason.  This  frequency  of 
reference  to  the  well-being  of  the  subject,  as  the  only  ground  on 
which  his  obedience  is  demanded,  is  common, 

1.  To  the  ante-Mosaic  law.  We  have  a  right  to  assume,  because 
universally  conceded,  that  the  divinely-uttered  inhibition  to  the 
progenitor  of  our  race,  was  a  perfect  epitome  of  the  perfect  require- 
ment of  the  supreme  love  of  the  Creator.  That  the  reason  of  this 
requirement  could  have  had  no  connexion  with  the  interests  of  its 
Author,  personally  and  ultiniately  considered,  we  have  already 
seen;  that  there  were  no  other  interests  save  those  of  the  subject, 
to  which  it  could  have  related,  we  have  also  seen.  AVhen,  therefore, 
the  law  enunciates,  "  Thou  shalt  not  eat  of  it," — from  whence,  or 
from  whose  interest,  does  it  fetch  the  impressive  reason  upon  which 
it  fixes  the  authority  of  its  action—"  for,  in  the  day  thou  eatest' 
thereof  thou  shalt  surely  die  ?" 

The  command  which  was  to  expatriate  Abraham,  and  attach  him 
to  the  service  of  his  Maker, — on  what  other  ground  did  it  proceed 
than  that  God,  whose  beneficence  he  had  begun  to  e.xperience, 
would  further  add  to  his  happiness  by  making  his  name  great,  and 
by  rendering  him  at  once  the  medium  and  recipient  of  immense 
and  endless  blessing  ?  "  ^Valk  bcfurc  me,  and  be  thou  perfect ;"  for, 
"1  am  the  Almighty  God— thy  shield,  and  thy  exceeding  great 
reward." 

Was  Moses  under  obligation  to  choose  the  reproach  of  Christ 
instead  of  the  treasures  in  Egypt  ?  And  for  what  other  reason  was 
he  obU'^ed  to  do  so,  than  that  the  riches  of  the  former  were  greater, 


528  The  Ground  of  Moral  Obligation.  [October, 

and,  by  consequence,  more  valuable  than  those  of  the  latter, — i.  e., 
the  riches  of  Christ  than  the  treasures  in  Egypt?  The  divine 
record  being  allowed  to  determine,  he  makes  the  commanded  sacri- 
fice of  a  partial  and  temporary  good,  on  the  one  hand,  on  the  ground 
of — that  is,  out  of  regard  to — the  affluence  of  eternal  advantage  on 
the  other :  "  For  he  had  respect  unto  the  recompense  of  the  reward." 
Other  than  this  reason,  if  Moses  or  his  Maker  knew  of  a  good  one, 
that  record  has  never  been  made  to  speak  it. 

The  citation  of  the  same  sole  reason  for  the  divine  requirement  is 
common, 

2.  To  the  institutes  of  Moses  themselves.  Among  these  we 
have,  in  one  class,  the  festivals :  as  of  the  passovcr,  the  pentecost, 
and  the  tabernacles.  Commemorative  of  corresponding  benefits, 
and  leading,  through  the  medium  of  present  blessing,  and,  by  the 
most  obvious  consequences,  to  future,  paramount,  and  final  felicity, 
it  vrill  hardly  be  questioned  that  their  institution  and  observance 
stood  alike  on  the  ground  of  those  considerations ;  especially  as  that 
is  the  declared  ground  on  which  they  are  placed,  and  as  there  is  not 
the  slightest  reference  to  any  other. 

Passing  for  the  present  the  political,  judicial,  and,  more  properly, 
religious  obligations  of  the  same  code,  as  gi'owing  out  of  the  great 
principia  of  the  Decalogue,  I  ask,  in  relation  to  the  last-mentioned, 
does  it  challenge  submission  for,  or  witliout,  reason  ?  If  the  former, 
then,  as  we  have  already  seen,  that  reason  must  have  been  fetched 
from  some  valuable  consideration ;  as,  otherwise,  being  worth  nothing 
itself,  the  reason  derived  from  it  would  be  worth  nothing ;  and,  by 
consequence,  the  challenged  submission  would  rest  on  something 
else,  if  anything,  than  a  good  reason.  If,  as  the  fiict  is,  however, 
the  consideration  which  furnished  the  reason  in  question  is  worth, 
at  least,  something;  and  if  that  worth  is  necessarily  relative  to  some 
being;  and  if,  to  that  being  it  must  necessarily  be  a  matter  of  some 
interest,  by  which  we  can  only  mean  that  it  identifies  itself  with  his 
well-being  or  happiness :  then,  it  having  thus  resulted  that  the 
reason  for  the  Ten  Commandments  must  have  been  taken  from  the 
consideration  of  the  iiappiness  of  some  being,  it  were  scarcely 
necessary  to  ask, — Of  what  being?  having  been  so  frequently  forced 
before  to  the  same  conclusion,  that  the  subject  of  the  obligation  was 
the  only  being  whose  happiness  could,  by  any  possibility,  have  been 
affected  by  it. 

But  does  this  law  of  the  two  tables  itself  urge  its  claims  on  this 
gi-ound,  and  on  no  other?  It  speaks:  "Hear," — that  is,  obey  this 
law, — "0  Israel!"     Do  it, 

1.  On  the  gi'ound  of  the  good  issued  and  issuing  from  existing 


1853.]  The  Ground  of  Moral  Obligation.  529 

relations:  "For  I  am  the  Lord  thy  God,  who  brought  thee  out  of 
the  house  of  bondage."     Obey  it, 

2.  For  the  reason  that  doing  so  is  the  natui-al  and  fixed  condition 
of  thy  future  Avell-being, — "  That  it  may  be  well  with  thee,  and  tbiit 
thou  mayest  live  long  on  the  earth." 

Good,  then,  the  good  of  the  subject,  it  is  respectfully  submitted,  is 
the  ground,  and  the  only  ground,  on  which  this  oldest  of  written 
constitutions,  known  to  human  intelligences,  imposes  its  obligation. 

This  habit  of  reference  to  obhgation  as-  reposing  on  benefit, 
present  and  prospective,  is  equall}^  common, 

3.  To  all  the  prophets  and  teachers  of  the  Old  Testament.  To 
verify  this  position,  we  had  purposed  an  induction  of  at  least  a  few  of 
the  more  appropriate  instances.  Happily,  however,  for  the  neces- 
sity which  limits  our  argument,  as  well  as  for  a  pardonable  sohcitude 
for  its  success,  that  measure  may  be  safely  waived  upon  a  reason- 
able presumption,  that  those  who  are  likely  to  feel  an  interest  in  the 
general  question,  must  have  anticipated  us  in  the  requisite  exami- 
nation of  this  particular  point.  It  will  be  only  in  passing,  then, 
and  more  for  the  purpose  of  cstabhshing  a  collateral  issue  than  of 
directly  strengthening  the  main  argument,  that  Ave  shall  ask  an 
audience  for  so  much  as  ono  of  this  great  cloud  of  witnesses.  The 
collateral  issue  referred  to  is  this :  That  as  love  is  the  declared 
essence  of  all  obedience,  so  grntitudc  is  the  essence  of  all  the  love 
that  God  requires,  or  that  the  liuraan  soul  can  exercise. 

Love  regards  the  Deity,  citlier  ahsolutchj, — that  is,  as  exercising 
his  perfections  in  himself,  with  no  relation  to  the  external  uni- 
verse,— or  relatively;  that  is,  as  exercising  his  wisdom,  power, 
goodness,  and  other  qualities,  with  relation  to  his  creatures.  Xow, 
however  it  may  be  a  law  of  dialectics,  that  before  we  examine 
the  relations  of  an  object  we  should  ascertain  its  absolute  quahties; 
and  however,  in  acting  on  this  .  principle,  we  suppose  the  above 
qualities  of  wisdom,  power,  and  goodness,  to  be  absolute  qualities  in 
the  Deity,  and  that,  as  such,  they  may  excite  certain  emotions — as 
of  admiration,  approval,  and  delight;  and  however  these  emotions 
may  constitute  such  a  love  to  God  as  befits  the  dream  of  a  poet, 
yet  the  theopathy  of  the  Bible,  instead  of  deriving  itself  from  any  such 
distant  sight  of  absolute  qualities,  kindles  into  its  own  living  ardour 
upon  the  apprehension  of  God,  as  related  to  us;  whose  fatherly 
regards  are  fixed  upon  us;  who  is  not  only  Creator,  Preserver, 
Benefactor,  Picdeemer,  Saviour,  and  Lord,  but  who  is  ours  in  all 
these  relations.  This  is  gratitude.  If  it  is  urged  that  the  theopa- 
thy of  the  Bible  transcends  this;  that  it  surveys,  adores,  and  loves 
its  object  as  possessing  "infinite  and  harmonious  perfections  in 


530  The  Ground  of  Moral  Obligation.  [October, 

himself,"  and  not  as  marked  by  any  relation,  near  or  remote,  direct 
or  indirect,  to  creatures  or  their  interests,  we  reply, 

1.  The  impossibility  of  loving  such  an  object — utterly  unrelated 
and  unadapted  to  our  constitutional  -wants — has  been  already 
proved. 

2.  Waiving  any  further  question,  hovrever,  as  to  the  sheer  pos- 
sibility of  supreme  love  to  an  object  devoid  of  relation  or  adaptation 
of  any  kind  to  the  wants  of  our  nature ;  and  even  supposing  it  to 
involve  no  contradiction,  cither  that  "we  should  love  nn  object 
having  no  adaptation  to  excite  desire,  or  that  vrc  should  desire 
an  object  having  no  adaptation  to  our  happiness,  or  that  we  should 
be  supremely  interested  in  reference  to  that  object,  but  that 
we  should  be  so  in  some  strange  sense,  consistent  with  our  being 
perfectly  disinterested  with  regard  to  the  same  object,  and  at  the 
same  time, — waiving,  we  say,  all  these  aspects  of  the  subject,  we  ask : 
Where,  in  his  "Word,  docs  God  command  us  to  love  him  in  this 
a  priori  way — "  out  of  regard  to  what  he  is  absolutely,  as  a  Being  of 
infinite  perfections" — and  not  for  the  reason  that  those  perfections 
are  known,  from  testimony  or  experience,  to  adapt  him  to  the 
necessities  of  a  nature  which  he  has  made  dependant  on  himself, 
and  thus  attracting  us  to  him  by  the  natural  force  of  a  felt  interest 
in  him  ?  Where,  we  ask  again,  is  such  love  commanded  ?  and 
by  whom  was  it  ever  felt?  JNot — as  far  as  his  testimony  goes — by 
the  groat  master  of  the  Hebrew  lyre;  and  we  are  soon  to  perceive 
that  he  is  but  the  echo  of  the  universal  testimony  on  this  subject. 
But  the  witness — he  will  answer  two  simple  questions: — 1.  Do  you 
love  the  Lord?  Answer.  Yea,  verily;  "  I  love  the  Lord."  2.  For 
what  cause  do  you  love  hira?  Answer.  "I  love  the  Lord  because 
he  hath  heard  my  voice  and  my  supplications." 

As  a  sedative  to  any  nervous  dread  of  departure  from  uninspired 
authority,  we  shall  subjoin  tlie  brief  note  of  a  great  theologue  and 
very  learned  commentator:  "How  vain  and  foolish  is  the  talk, 
'To  love  God  for  his  benefits  to  us  is  mercenary,  and  cannot  be 
pure  love'.'  Whether  pure  or  impure,  there  is  no  other  love  that 
can  floAV  from  the  licart  of  the  creature  to  its  Creator."  To  which 
the  reader  will  excuse  us  for  adding  the  suffrage  of  one  of  the 
highest  of  ethical  authorities :  "  The  love  of  God  is  the  sublimest 
gratitude." 

IV.  That  divine  requisition  is  preferred  on  the  gi'ound  of  benefit 
received,  and  to  be  received,  is,  fourthly,  the  constant  declaration 
of  the  New  Testament. 

1.  That  all   the   precepts   of  the  New  Testament  are  poised 


1853.]  The  Ground  of  Moral  Obligation.  531 

on  the  consideration  of  good  done,  and  to  be  done,  to  us, 
■were  as  easy  of  proof  as  the  quotation  of  the  precepts  them- 
selves. But  we  must  prepare  a  shorter  process;  or  rather  rest 
this  present  issue  on  one  prepared  for  us  by  the  faithful  and 
true  Witness  himself.  Yn^t,  then,  he  resolves  all  human  obli- 
gation into, — "  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with  all  thy 
heart,  and  thy  neighbour  as  thyself"  And,  secondly,  he  places  that 
all-embracing  bond  on  the  ground  of  God's  unreserved  bcstowment 
upon  us  of  the  gift  of  his  Son ;  and  through  him,  on  the  conditional 
communication  of  eternal  happiness :  "  Por  God  so  loved  the  world, 
that  he  gave  his  only-begotten  iSon,  that  whosoever  believeth  on  him 
should  not  perish,  but  have  everlasting  hfo." 

That  this  two-fold  gratuity  of  his  Son,  and  everlasting  happiness 
through  him,  to  all  believers,  is  the  final  reason  upon  which  he  claims 
our  love  to  him  is  obvious,  firt^t,  because  it  possesses  all  the  adapta- 
tion as  such  which  we  can  either  imagine,  or  the  nature  of  the  case 
admit;  secondly,  because  no  other  is  ever  assigned ;•  or,  which  is 
the  same  thing,  no  other  which  is  not  naturally  resolvable  into  it; 
and,  thirdly,  because,  in  effect,  this  reason  is  repeatedly  assigned  by 
inspired  men ;  and  expressly  so  by  the  beloved  disciple,  on  his  own, 
and  the  behalf  of  all  the  other  members  of  the  heavenly  family: 
"We  love" — are  bound  to,  and  therefore  do  love — "him,  because 
he  first  loved  us," — so  as  to  bestow  the  immense  benefit  of  redemp- 
tion. On  this  text  two  commentators  of  opposing  schools — Cal- 
vinian  and  Arminian — respectively  remark : — 

"His  love  is  the  moral  cause  of  ours." 

"This  is  the  foundation  of  our  love  to  God," — "We  love  him  for 
the  benefits  bestowed  on  us.  Love  begets  love."  These  various 
terms  give,  as  their  united  sense  of  the  place, — that  love  to  God  is 
caused  or  excited  in  our  minds  by  the  consideration  of  the  benefit 
"which  his  love  has  caused  to  us. 

Now,  as  this  moral  cause  or  foundation  of  our  love  to  God  is 
identical  Avith  the  moral  cause  or  foundation  of  our  obligation  to 
love  him, — that  is,  the  consideration  out  of  regard  to  which  the  obli- 
gation must  have  been  originated  and  imposed,  so  is  it  the  ultimate 
or  final  cause;  as  above  or  beyond  this  it  is  not  conceivable, 
as  has  been  variously  demonstrated,  that  any  object  should  have 
been  present  to  the  Divine  Intelligence,  out  of  regard  to  which 
he  could  have  originated  and  imposed  it. 

2.  With  regard  to  the  rest  of  the  apostles,  and  to  save  time,  it  must 
suffice  to  remark,  that  as  they  cannot,  so  a  careful  induction  wiU 
satisfy  us  that  they  do  not  present  any  other  cause  of  our  obligation 
than  that  already  so  clearly  stated  by  the  sovereign  authority  of 


532  The  Ground  of  Moral  Obligation.  [October, 

Him  who  lay  in  the  bosom  of  the  Father,  preaffirmed,  as  we  have 
seen  it,  by  those  who  spake  as  they  were  moved  by  his  own  Spirit ; 
and  so  appositely  and  pointedly  re-afiu-med  by  that  one  of  his  chosen 
witnesses  who  had  lain  in  his  own  bosom:  "Other  foundation" — 
of  acceptable  obedience,  or  of  the  obligation  which  binds  us  to  its 
exercises — "  can  no  man  lay,  than  that  which  is  laid  in  Jesus  Christ," 
— considered  as  the  offspring  of  that  infinite  goodness  which  con- 
ferred so  inestimable  a  benefit  on  our  fallen  race. 

As  not  only  lapsed,  but  dissevered  from  any  interest  in  that 
goodness,  utterly  and  finally, — the  obligation  originating  in  and 
depending  on  it  would  expire.  Of  punitive  obligation  we  speak  not, 
further  than  that,  succeeding  the  preceptive,  as  it  must  from  the  fact 
that  their  joint  effect  on  the  same  subject  is  impossible,  it  constitutes 
the  only  sense  in  which  the  law,  in  its  application  to  those  who 
bear  its  penalty,  can  be  considered  eternal  * 

•*  As  this  point,  aside  from  its  intrinsic  interest,  is  too  material  to  tbe  main 
purpose  of  tliis  paper  to  be  dismissed  •without  a  more  extended  notice  than  could 
consistently  be  given  it  in  the  text,  the  attention  of  the  reader  is  solicited  to  this 
marginal  attempt  to  set  it  in  its  proper  light.  The  point  is,  -whether  the  pre- 
ceptive obligation  of  the  divine  law  rests  alike  on  those  whom  it  abandons  and 
execrates,  as  on  those  whom  it  protects  and  blesses ;  or,  in  other  words,  whether 
the  penalty  and  precept  of  the  law  are  jointly  and  eternally  enforced  with  re- 
gard to  the  same  subject.  To  this  we  reply,  that  the  happiness  of  the  subject 
having  been  the  original  and  direct  aim  of  the  law,  and  to  be  accomplished  by 
means  of  his  EuLmis?ion  to  its  preceptive  requirement,  it  were  a  gross  absurdity 
to  suppose  him  a  subject  of  its  punitive,  while  he  is  also  a  subject  of  its  precep- 
tive action.  The  precept  requires  him  to  love  God,  and  looks  through  that,  as  a 
medium,  to  his  happino>s  as  an  end.  The  penalty  supposes  him  to  have  forfeited 
the  happiness,  and  with  it.  of  course,  the  means  of  happiness,  which  is  neither 
less  nor  more  than  loving  God.  If  we  suppose,  then,  that  God  requires  the 
subject  of  punishment  to  love  him,  we  must  further  suppose  it  to  be  his  will 
that  he  should  love  him,  or  that  it  is  not.  If  he  requires  him  to  love  him,  while 
at  the  same  time  it  is  not  his  will  that  he  should  do  so,  then  it  follows  that  his 
requirement  and  his  will  arc  at  mutual  odds ;  in  other  words,  that  not  loving 
him  is  as  much  in  accordance  with  his  will,  on  the  one  hand,  as  it  is  a  violation 
of  his  command  on  the  other — which  is  absurd.  But  if— to  take  the  other  horn 
of  the  dilemma — it  be  supf>oscd  that,  while  God  requires  the  subject  to  love  him, 
it  is  equally  his  will  that  he  should  love  him— it  follows  that,  as  loving  is  the 
means  of,  and  necessarily  leads  to  happiness,  it  is  his  will  that  the  subject  of  ob- 
ligation to  the  means  should,  by  virtue  of  that  means,  be  connected  with  the 
happiness  to  which  it  stands  related,  as  an  end;  or,  which  is  the  same  thing, 
that  he  requires  and  wills  both  liis  holiness  and  his  happiness — which  is  also 
absurd.  On  the  whole,  then,  wo  are  forced  to  the  conclusion,  that  since  God,  in 
the  punishment  of  the  sinner,  does  not  require  him  to  love  him,  either  -fl-ith  or 
without  willing  that  he  should  do  so,  inasmuch  as  either  supposition  involves  a 
gross  absurdity — he  does  not  require  him  to  love  him  at  all.  Indeed,  it  equally 
results — unless  the  punishment  were  disciplinary  and  benignant,  which  it  is 


1853.]  The  Ground  of  Moral  Obligation.  533 

But  to  resume  tlie  interrupted  tliou^^ht.  AYitli  our  moral  consti- 
tution utterly  and  hopelessly  ■v\TCcked, — -vvitli  our  eternal  interests 
lost  sight  of  by  our  Maker, — we  could,  by  no  possibility,  feel  obliged 
to  that  love  of  him  Vi-ithout  -which  he  could  acknowledge  no  obedience. ' 
Nor  •would  the  love  itself  be  less  impossible  than  the  fechng  of 
obligation  to  e.xercise  it;  as  there  would  remain  no  possibihty  of 
adaptation  in  the  object  to  tliose  constitutional  conditions  of  our 
nature  on  which  the  exercise  of  love  depends, — no  principle  in  the 
intellectual  or  moral  constitution  of  the  subject  upon  which  the 
requisite  power  could  rally, — no  fulcrum  upon  which  its  action 
could  fix. 

Happily  for  us  that  utter  wreck  was  never  permitted ;  that  dis- 
regard for  our  interests  was  never  indulged.  To  obviate  so  huge  a 
calamity  there  did,  it  is  true,  arise,  under  the  divine  administration, 
a  necessity  of  the  great  sacrifice ;  but,  anticipating  that  necessity,  it 
was  provided  for  in  the  "  Lamb  slain  from  the  foundation  of  the 
•world."  Emanating  from  Infinite  Goodness,  himself  the  action  of 
that  goodness,  sinlessly  embodied  in  the  shming  nature,  he  holds 
that  nature  in  such  vital  conjunction  with  his  own,  that  it  is  made  to 
partake  of  his  quickening  Spirit,  and  to  share  his  availing  and  ever- 
active  sympathies.  In  this  way,  while  lapsed  man,  as  the  subject 
of  law,  is  ever  supplied  with  virtue  to  fulfil  it,  he  is  ever  presented 
■with  the  all-embracing  cause,  gi'ound,  or  reason  for  his  obligation  to 

not — that  the  delinquent  cannot  he  boumi  to  do  anything,  but  only  to  suffer, — 
to  suffer  that  punishment,  a  part  tf  \Nhii:h,  at  least,  results  from  the  loss,  as  ■R-ell 
of  the  power  and  privilege  of  loving  God  as  of  the  happiness  of  which  the  exer- 
cise of  that  power  and  privilege  is  the  divinely-constituted  means. 

To  the  venerable  allegation,  "  That  the  loss  of  power  to  obey  does  not  impair 
the  divine  right  to  command,"  we  answer, 

1.  The  divine  right  in  question,  having  for  its  ultimate  aim  the  well-being  of 
the  subject,  as  has  been  variously  demonstrated,  would — that  aim  surrendered — 
be  surrendered  along  with  it;  or,  which  is  an  absurdity,  it  would  be  maintained 
with  reference  to  no  ultimate  aim  whatever. 

2.  The  right  of  commanding  supreme  love,  after  his  own  punitive  and  positive 
action,  had  rendered  it  absolutely  impossible — after  he  had  absolutely  willed  its 
impossibility — is  a  right,  the  vindication  of  which  can  be  prompted  by  no 
enlightened  regard  for  the  honour  of  the  divine  C'luity. 

The  unmixed  and  unmitigablo  pains  of  eternal  death  are  not  less  incompatible 
with  the  obligation  of  loving  Cod,  than  with  the  felicity  of  loving  him.  When, 
therefore,  he  gives  up,  or  ceases  to  will  the  happiness  of  the  delinquent,  he  ceases 
to  will  the  holiness  which  would  lead  him  to  it ;  and  when  he  ceases  to  will  his 
holiness,  he  ceases  to  require  or  command  it;  and  when  ho  ceases  to  will, 
require,  or  command  holiness,  he  ceases  to  oblige  or  bind  the  delinquent  to  its 
exercise.  The  obligation  to  suffer  still  remains ;  and  that,  as  remarked  in  the 
text,  is  the  only  sense  ia  which  the  obligation  of  the  law,  in  the  premises,  can 
be  considered  eternal 


534  The  Seco7id  Epislh  of  Paul  to  Timothy.      [October. 

do  so ;  a  reason  -vyhicli,  if  avc  mistake  not,  has  been  shown  to  be 
rooted  in  the  inherent  value  of  -well-being  to  the  subject,  considered 
as  a  final  end, — an  end  of  sufficient  moment  to  justify  the  institu- 
"tion  and  maintenance  of  the  existing  scheme  of  moral  government, 
as  a  means  divinely  adapted  to  that  end. 

AYith  the  following  condensed  view  of  the  argument,  we  have 
done : — 

1.  God  wills  our  happiness ;  for  it  is  a  contradiction  to  suppose 
that  Infinite  Goodness  could  will  otherwise, 

2.  Holiness,  by  a  divine  constitution,  is  the  means  of  that  hap- 
piness: for,  willing  the  end,  it  would  contradict  God's  wisdom 
and  goodness  to  suppose  that  he  does  not  equally  will  the  means, 
or  that  he  wills  other  means  than  that  of  holiness. 

3.  Holiness  being  willed  as  the  means  of  happiness,  is  willed 
with  reference  to  that  end,  and  no  other;  that  is,  it  is  willed  on  the 
sole  ground  of  its  aforesaid  relation  to  happiness;  and  that  is 
equivalent  to  our  original  affirmation,  that  moral  obligation  is  im- 
posed out  of  ultimate  regard  to  that  consideration.  That  considera- 
tion is  sufficient ;  no  other  can  be.  It  is,  therefore,  the  sufficient 
and  only  ground  of  man's  obligation  to  obey  his  Maker. 


akt.  in.— ox  the  second  epistle  of  st.  paul  to 

TIMOTHY. 

Some  writings  derive  importance  from  their  date,  as  well  as  their 
intrinsic  character ;  and  to  understand  them  accurately,  and  duly  to 
appreciate  their  worth,  it  is  necessary  to  be  acquainted  with  the 
facts  of  contemporaneous  history.  Those  facts,  especially,  which 
attest  the  general  state  of  the  world,  and  more  particularly  those 
which  come  into  immediate  contact  with  the  subject  matter  of  the 
document  under  consideration,  the  character  of  the  principal  per- 
sonages that  appeared  upon  the  stage  of  action,  as  well  as  the 
particular  exigencies  of  the  times,  must  be  accurately  understood 
in  order  to  elucidate  the  peculiar  phrases  of  the  writer,  and  to  ex- 
plain the  facts  and  incidents  detailed. 

That  Timothy  lived  in  a  very  eventful  era  of  the  world  is  mani- 
fest. The  Roman  empire  had,  under  the  reign  of  Augustus  Cresar, 
about  sixty-five  years  before  the  time  of  writing  this  epistle, 
achieved  the  conquest  of  the  world,  and  was  now  under  the  govern- 
ment of  a  prince  who  exceeded  all  his  more  immediate  predecessors 
in  wickedness, — Tiberius,  Caligula,  and  Claudius,  whose  licentious- 


1853.3  The  Second  Epistle  of  Paul  to  Timothy.  535 

ness  and  many  acts  of  cruelty  had  filled  Rome  ^ifch  mutilated 
limbs,  and  corpses,  and  all  kinds  of  miseries,  in  the  midst  of  ener- 
vating luxuries  and  debasing  debaucheries ; — Rome,  vrc  say,  at  this 
time,  -was  under  the  government  of  a  prince  -who  plunged  deeper 
into  the  muddy  pool  of  depravity  than  any  of  his  predecessors, 
however  debased  they  may  have  been — a  prince  -whose  dissolute 
character  has  handed  his  name  down  to  posterity  with  the  blackest 
infamy.  Nero,  a  name  associated  with  every  vice  which  can  de- 
grade human  nature,  was  now  at  the  head  of  the  Roman  empire, 
and  he  rendered  himself  notorious  by  a  precocity  of  profligacy 
which  ripened  into  maturity  at  an  early  period  of  his  inglorious 
reign. 

He  who  could  sport  himself  with  inflicting  barbarous  tortm-es 
upon  mankind,  not  caring  to  discriminate  between  the  innocent  and 
guilty,  merely  to  gratify  a  ca])ricious  humour — who  could  indulge  in 
the  profane  mirth  of  dancing  around  the  mangled  corpse  of  his  own 
mother,  after  having  had  her  ripped  open  that  he  might  feast  his 
voluptuous  eyes  upon  the  place  of  his  conception — who  could  order 
the  city  of  Rome  to  be  set  on  fire  that  he  might  have  a  plausible 
pretext  for  crushing  and  punishing  the  Christians  for  burning  the 
city — he  that  could  deliberately  do  such  things  may  well  be  sup- 
posed fully  equal  to  any  act  of  barbai'ous  cruelty,  however  atrocious 
and  malicious.  Yet  Nero  is  said  to  have  done  all  this,  together 
with  a  thousand  other  acts  of  inhumanity,  at  the  bare  recital  of 
which  we  instinctively  recoil  vith  horror.  It  was  under  such  a 
monster  in  human  shape  that  Timothy  lived.  Is  it  not  a  wonder 
that  he  lived  at  all  ? 

In  the  mean  time,  during  those  reigns  of  blood  and  carnage,  the 
Christian  religion  had  been  silently  advancing  in  the  world.  For 
about  sixty-five  years  from  the  birth  of  its  Founder,  and  tliirty- 
two  from  his  death  and  resurrection,  it  had  been  steadily  making 
its  way  amidst  opposition  of  the  most  formidable  character,  its 
disciples  inhumanly  punished  as  bleeding  victims  upon  those  very 
altars  their  own  hands  liad  erected  for  the  sacrifice  of  prayer  and 
thanksgiving,  as  a  penalty  for  their  testimony  to  its  truth.  This 
religion,  thus  propagated,  opposed,  and  persecuted,  had  excited 
great  attention,  and  enlisted  the  interests,  the  prejudices,  and  the 
passions  of  mankind,  very  generally,  both  for  and  against  it.  Among 
its  early  converts  there  were  sonic  who  had  been  its  most  virulent 
opposers  and  persecutors,  one  of  whom  was  the  author  of  the  epistle 
before  us.  Zealous  for  all  the  peculiarities  of  the  Mosaic  economy, 
learned  in  the  laws  of  human  juri?}>rudence,  an  active  partisan  for 
the  Jewish  Sanhedrim,  a  devout  Pharisee  by  birth  and  education, 


536  The  Second  Epistle  of  Paul  to  Timothy.      [October, 

and  a  violent  persecutor  of  the  follo-vrers  of  Jesus  Christ,  he  -was 
selected  by  the  high-priests  of  the  Jews  to  execute  their  malicious 
decree  to  extirpate  the  Christians  from  the  face  of  the  earth.  While 
on  his  ^vay  to  Damascus,  -with  his  bloody  commission  in  his  pocket, 
and  his  heart  palpitating  Avith  hatred  to  the  Christians,  determined 
to  bring  all  that  called  on  the  name  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  -whether  men, 
women,  or  children,  bound  to  Jerusalem,  this  zealous  partisan  was 
suddenly  arrested  in  his  mad  career  by  a  voice  from  heaven  sound- 
ing in  his  ears,  "  Saul,  Saul,  why  persecutest  thou  me?"  Ignorant 
of  the  person  whose  voice  he  heard,  and  yet  surprised  by  such  an 
unexpected  recognition  of  his  name,  though  prostrate  upon  the 
earth  from  the  overpowering  brilliancy  of  that  light  from  heaven 
which  shone  around  him,  he  answered  from  the  fulness  of  his  heart, 
"Who  art  thou,  Lord'r"  AVhat  an  unexpected  answer  was  given  to 
this  question,  "  I  am  Jesus,  whom  thou  persecutest!"  "  Jesus  whom 
I  persecute !  1  thought  thou  wast  dead  and  buried.  Thou  certainly 
wast  crucified  at  Jerusalem,  and  thy  body  committed  to  the  tomb ; 
and  I  was  told  that  thy  disciples  came  by  night  and  stole  thy  body, 
and  conveyed  it  to  a  secret  burying- place.  I  know,  indeed,  that 
thou  hast  a  few  straggling  followers  upon  the  earth,  but  I  was  on 
my  v,-ay  to  destroy  even  them,  in  the  hope  that  thou  and  thy  name 
would  soon  be  forgotten.  But  dost  thou  live?"  "Yes,  I  live;  I 
have  the  keys  of  death  and  hell,  and  I  have  you  as  my  prisoner. 
Submit,  therefore,  to  my  authority,  or  suifer  the  vengeance  due  to 
thy  sins."  "I  submit.  What  wouldst  thou  have  me  to  do?" 
"Arise,  and  go  to  Damascus,  and  it  shall  be  told  thee."  Away  he 
goes,  being  led  by  those  who  accompanied  him;  for  the  bright- 
ness of  the  light  which  shone  upon  him  had  blinded  his  eyes. 

Of  his  subsequent  conversion,  his  call  to  the  ministry  of  recon- 
ciliation, his  success  and  suffering's,  we  cannot  speak  particularly. 
Among  others  converted  to  the  faith  of  the  gospel,  one  of  the  most 
eminent  was  Timothy,  to  whom  the  epistle  before  us  is  directed. 
It  seems  necessary,  however,  to  remark  that  for  his  fidelity  in  his 
calling,  his  success  in  winning  souls  to  Christ,  the  bold  manner  in 
which  he  confronted  the  Jews  and  supplanted  the  Gentile  Avorship, 
he  provoked  the  ire  of  the  Jews  and  stirred  up  the  wrath  of  the 
Gentiles.  For  these  things  he  was  brought  before  the  civil  magis- 
trates, condemned,  and  cast  into  prison,  and  was  now,  when  he  wrote 
the  epistle  before  us,  a  second  time  a  prisoner  in  Rome  under  the 
blood-thirsty  tyrant  !\ero,  the  persecutor  of  the  Christians.  Having 
no  hope  of  an  exemption  from  death,  he  sends  to  his  son  Timothy 
this  farewell  discourse. 

Timothy,    as    before    remarked,    had    been   converted    by  the 


1853.]  The  Second  Epistle  of  Paul  to  Tirnothy.  537 

ministry  of  the  apostle,  had  commenced  itinerant  preaching,  and 
had  given  ample  evidence  of  his  ability  to  teach,  as  well  as  of  his 
fidelity  in  the  cause  of  Christ.  Accordingly^  the  apostle  had  chosen 
him  for  his  companion  in  his  travels,  had  adopted  him  as  his  son  in 
the  gospel,  and  employed  him  as  his  assistant  in  the  government  of 
the  Church.  Timothy  was,  thcroforc,  properly  speaking,  an  itiner- 
ating evangelist,  or  bishop,  sent  by  the  apostle  from  place  to  place 
to  superintend  the  affairs  of  the  Church,  to  set  things  in  order,  and 
to  ordain  elders  in  every  city  -where  they  were  needed — in  a  word, 
to  do  all  that  which  the  apostle  himself  would  have  done  had  he  been 
present.  These  arc  the  persons  and  these  the  circumstances  which 
called  forth  the  document  under  consideration. 

^Nothing  can  be  more  aflcctiug  than  the  circumstances  imder 
which  the  apostle  addresses  his  son  Timothy  in  this  epistle.  It 
is  Paul,  the  aged  Paul,  the  spiritual  father  of  Timothy — Paul  the 
prisoner  at  Kome,  already  under  sentence  of  death — Paul  the 
apostle  of  Jesus  Christ— that  addresses  himself  to  Timothy  the 
evangelist.  Standing  on  the  margin  of  time,  Avith  eternity  full  in 
his  view,  the  Judge  of  heaven  and  earth  before  his  face,  he  speaks 
with  all  the  solemnity  which  these  awful  circumstances  are  natu- 
rally calculated  to  inspire,  and  with  all  the  tender  affection  which  a 
father  feels  for  his  son.  Kot  only  the  circumstances  under  which  he 
was  placed,  but  the  subject  on  wliicii  he  discoursed,  was  well  calcu- 
lated to  awaken  the  most  lively  iuti-rcst  and  to  excite  the  deepest  and 
most  holy  sj-mpathies  of  the  soul.  He  is  not  discoursing  respecting 
an  earthly  but  a  heavenly  iidieritance — not  about  the  empty  pa- 
geantry of  this  world,  whicli  pa-seth  away,  but  of  those  eternal 
realities  of  a  future  world — not  of  those  ephemeral  things  which 
float  upon  the  surface  of  human  life  and  soon  disappear  forever,  but 
of  those  substantial  glories  which  shall  be  revealed  in  that  august 
day  when  Jesus  Christ  shall  descend  from  heaven  with  a  shout  and 
with  the  voice  of  the  archangel,  to  awaken  the  dead  and  call  all  to 
judgment.  Nor  is  he  discoursing  about  human  science,  literature, 
and  the  arts — all  of  which  have  their  relative  importance — but 
respecting  the  science  of  salvation,  the  literature  of  religion,  and 
the  art  of  holy  living.  These  arc  the  suleuin,  the  sublime,  the  all- 
important  subjects  that  occupy  the  heart  and  inspire  the  pen  of  the 
apostle. 

Now  take  all  these  things  into  consideration,  and  then  judge  if 
they  are  not  most  worthy  the  time,  the  circumstances,  the  character  of 
the  writer,  his  destiny,  and  the  calling,  ciiaracter,  and  peculiar  Avork 
of  the  person  addressed.  A  man  may,  while  blessed  with  health,  sur- 
rounded with  friends,  and  enjoying  freedom  of  thought  and  action, 

FouKTH  Series,  Vol.  V.— 34 


538  The  Second  Epistle  of  Paul  to  Timothy.      [October, 

be  cheerful  and  speak  flippantly  enough  of  the  necessity  of  sacri- 
ficing the  pleasuiX'S  of  the  world,  and  descant  in  glowing  language 
upon  the  attractions  of  religion  and  of  its  future  rewards,  and  yet 
feel  but  very  little  of  what  he  says.  But  let  him  be  placed  in  a 
similar  situation  with  the  Apostle  Paul  when  he  wrote  this  epistle — 
let  him  be  able  to  reflect  upon  a  long  life  of  devotion  to  the  best  of 
all  causes,  a  life  of  daily  sacrifice,  of  labour,  of  suffering,  and, 
finally,  be  sent  into  prison,  where  he  is  doomed  to  linger  out  his 
wearisome  days  and  nights  in  a  gloomy  dungeon,  whence  he  looks 
forward  to  a  speedy  and  ignominious  death,  and  then  let  him  speak 
of  the  substantial  realities  of  that  religion  which  buoys  up  the  soul 
amid  these  sufferings,  these  temptations,  and  these  agonies  which 
arise  from  the  treachery  of  false  friends,  while  he  rises  above  them 
all  in  view  of  the  bright  prospect  before  him,  and  we  shall  be  com- 
pelled to  believe  in  his  sincerity,  and  to  pay  homage,  almost  in- 
voluntarily, to  his  virtues.  This  was  the  situation  and  this  the  dis- 
course of  the  autlior  of  the  document  we  are  reviewing.  And  shall 
we  not  hsten  to  him  with  believing  hearts? 

But  let  us  notice  particularly  some  of  the  most  important  topics 
upon  which  the  apostle  treats.  Let  it  be  remembered  that  this  is 
the  second  epistle  to  Timothy,  lie  had  before,  during  his  first 
imprisonment,  instructed  him  in  many  things  pertaining  to  his  ofiice 
as  a  superintendent  of  the  Church,  as  an  itinerating  evangelist,  and 
had  delineated  the  clinracter  of  those  who  might  be  consecrated  to  the 
work  of  elders  in  the  Church  of  God.*  In  that  epistle  he  had 
expressed  his  anticipation  of  a  speedy  deliverance  from  his  cap- 
tivity, and  he  lived  to  realize  his  expectation.  But  the  malice  of  his 
enemies  would  not  allow  him  long  to  enjoy  his  liberty:  he  was 
thrust  a  second  time  into  the  prison;  and  now  he  abandons  all  hope 
of  a  restoration  to  the  free  exercise  of  his  apostolic  functions,  but 
says  expressly,  "  1  am  now  ready  to  be  offered  up,  and  the  time  of 
my  departure  is  at  hand."  It  would  appear,  therefore,  that  the  sen- 
tence of  death  had  been  already  passed  upon  him ;  and,  indeed,  it  was 
soon  carried  into  execution. 

We  have  already  intimated  that  Timothy  was  an  assistant  of  the 
apostle,  and,  as  such,  was  commissioned  to  do  what  the  apostle 
would  have  done  himself  had  he  been  present.  And  now  that 
his  departure  was  near  at  hand,  he  wished  to  instruct  Timothy 
more  perfectly  in  his  duty  as  an  evangelist,  and  as  a  ruler  in 
the  Church  of  Jesus  Christ,  that  he  might  be  fully  qualified, 
after  the  apostle's  death,  to  fill  his  place  as  his  successor  in  the 
apostleship,  not  only  in  "preaching  the  word"  with  acceptance,  but 
"1  Tim.  ch.  iii. 


1853.]  The  Second  Epistle  of  Paul  to  Timothj.  539 

more  especially  in  governing  the  Church  ^vith  discretion,  and  thus 
be  prepared  to  #*nsmit  to  others  duly  qualified  the  functions  of  his 
ministry.  Happy  would  it  have  been  for  the  Church  and  the  ^vorld 
had  this  succession  of  holy,  M'ise,  and  faithful  evangelists  been  pre- 
served in  a  regular  line  of  descent,  for  then  would  not  the  Church 
have  been  cursed  with  "  unpreaching  prelates,"  nor  the  earth 
drenched  with  the  blood  of  the  saints,  under  the  pretence  of  eradi- 
cating heresy  from  among  the  faithful.  What  a  disgrace  to  Chris- 
tianity has  the  conduct  of  that  unholy  priesthood  been!  Had, 
indeed,  this  command  of  the  apo.stlc  been  obeyed  from  generation 
to  generation,  that  race  of  monsters  in  human  shape,  the  apostate 
popes  and  cardinals,  whose  vile  characters  have  been  delineated 
upon  the  page  of  histor}',  had  never  existed.  Nor  would  the  doc- 
trine of  succession  have  needed  a  defence,  as  there  would  have  been 
none  to  call  it  in  question.  As  facts  are,  however,  which  put  it 
beyond  all  controversy  that  tliis  holy  succession  has  not  been  kept 
up,  but  has  been  broken  in  upon  from  time  to  time  by  the  vilest  of  men, 
surely  a  man  must  be  hard  pushed  for  arguments  to  justify  his  prac- 
tice to  resort  to  this  debased  and  rotten  succession  for  the  authority 
of  his  ministrations. 

All  that  an  inspired  apostle  could  do  to  prevent  such  a  fatal 
catastrophe  from  befalHng  the  Church  was  done  in  St.  Paul's  instruc- 
tions to  Timothy  respecting  tlie  (pialifications  of  his  successors  in  the 
episcopal  office.  And  as  God  will  not,  and  indeed  cannot,  consist- 
ently with  the  government  he  exercises  over  free,  responsible  beings, 
force  men  to  honour  and  obey  him,  so  neither  can  lie,  without  vio- 
lating the  eternal  order  of  things,  interpose  his  sovereignty  to  pre- 
vent a  desecration  of  sacred  things.  Everything  which  infinite 
wisdom,  power,  and  goodness  could  consistently  do,  God  did  to 
preserve  the  Church  from  being  devoured  by  such  "wolves  in 
sheep's  clothing." 

Had  the  apostle  believed  that  it  was  a  matter  of  little  consequence 
how  the  priesthood  lived,  what  its  character  should  be,  whether  holy 
or  unholy,  if  only  its  incumbents  were  consecrated  to  their  office  by 
prayer  and  imposition  of  hands,  he  never  would  have  taken  such 
pains  to  impress  upon  Timothy  the  indispensable  necessity  of  de- 
voting himself  exclusively  to  God,  and  of  selecting  other  holy  men 
and  committing  to  them  the  same  office  which  he  himself  held.  He 
knew  perfectly  well  that  a  defjarting  from  moral  rectitude  would 
vitiate  the  character  of  a  bishop,  and  render  all  his  acts  null  and 
void;  and  therefore  he  urged  upon  Timothy  the  necessity  of  holding 
fast  the  "  form  of  sound  words,"  and  of  transmitting  to  others  of 
like  character  the  sacred  deposit  which  had  been  committed  to  him 


540  The  Second  Epistle  of  Paul  to  Timothy.      [October, 

"  by  the  laying  on  of  the  hands  of  the  presbytery."  And  to  stimu- 
late him  to  diligence  in  the  discharge  of  his  highly  important  duty, 
he  proposes  his  ovrn  example  for  his  imitation,  reminding  him  in  the 
mean  time  that  he  had  been  an  C3'c-vr-itness  of  his  conduct.  In  chap. 
iii,  ver.  10,  11,  he  says:  "Cut  thou  hast  fully  kno^vn  my  doctrine, 
manner  of  life,  purpose,  faith,  long-suffering,  charity,  patience,  per- 
secutions, afflictions,  -which  came  unto  me  at  Antioch,  at  Iconium, 
at  Lystra;  -what  persecutions  1  endured:  but  out  of  them  all  the 
Lord  delivered  me;"'  and,  in  verse  14,  he  exhorts  Timothy  to  "con- 
tinue in  the  things  -which  thou  hast  learned"  from  my  teaching  and 
example,  for  thou  lia>t  had  an  opportunity,  from  an  intimate  acquaint- 
ance -with  my  doctrine  and  manners  of  life,  of  fully  understanding 
both,  and  "  been  assured  of  kno^^•ing  of  "whom  thou  hast  learned ;" 
not  from  a  novice  in  theology  or  in  experience,  but  from  a  father  in 
the  gospel,  Avhose  example  has  long  exemplified  the  purity  and  excel- 
lence of  religion  before  thine  eyes :  and  for  this  I  am  no-w  suffering 
imprisonment,  and  shall  soon  seal  my  testimony  with  my  blood.  In 
the  midst  of  all  thc.^c  things  I  have  held  fast  my  profession,  as 
thou  knowest  full  well,  having  never  soiled  my  character  by  any  act 
of  meanness,  much  less  of  wickedness;  and,  therefore,  thou  hast 
before  thee  an  embodiment  of  all  that  is  excellent  in  the  gospel  of 
the  Son  of  God, — of  its  divine  power  to  save  from  sin,  to  buoy  up 
the  soul  in  the  midst  of  human  infirmities  and  afflictions,  and  to  fill 
it  with  hope  in  the  prospect  of  death  and  the  judgment-day. 

But  to  excite  in  him  a  still  stronger  determination  to  run  the 
race  set  before  him,  and  not  to  soil  his  character  by  any  act  unbe- 
coming a  ruler  in  the  Cimrch  of  God,  the  apostle  proceeds  in  verse 
15  to  remind  him  of  his  early  religious  training  under  the  tuition 
of  his  pious  mother :  "  And  from  a  child  thou  hast  known  the  Holy 
Scriptures,  which  are  able  to  make  thee  wise  unto  salvation  through 
faith  Avhich  is  in  Christ  Jesus."  This  interesting  fact  the  apostle 
had  more  particularly  revived  in  the  recollection  of  Timothy,  in 
chap,  i,  5,  Avhere  the  names  of  his  mother  Eunice,  and  of  his  grand- 
mother Lois,  are  mentioned  with  a  view,  no  doubt,  to  impress  upon 
him  the  high  obligation  derived  from  the  vows  of  his  early  childhood, 
to  fulfil  the  holy  trust  which  had  been  confided  to  him  at  a  more 
mature  age  of  his  life.  "  Wherefore,"  he  says,  verse  6,  "  I  put  thee 
in  remembrance,  that  thou  stir  up  the  gift  of  God  which  is  in  thee 
by  the  putting  on  of  my  hands."  Hence,  he  proceeds — (verse  14) 
— "Keep  by  the  Holy  Ghost"  "that  good  thing" — namely,  the  au- 
thority to  preach  the  word  and  to  administer  the  ordinances,  as  well 
as  to  govern  the  Church  as  an  itinerating  evangelist  or  presiding 
bishop — "  which  was  committed  to  thee  by  the  laying  on  of  the  hands 


1853.]  The  Second  Epistle  of  Paul  to  Timothy.  541 

of  the  presbytery,"  in  -which  I  acted  as  president  of  the  council ; 
keep  this  sacred  deposit  inviolably  by  the  power  of  the  Holy  Ghost 
"■which  dwelleth  in  us,"  in  me  and  thee,  and  all  others  who  have 
been  thus  called  to  the  important  work  of  the  ministry:  "  this  author- 
ity see  that  thou  exercise  discreetly,  in  selecting  and  ordaining 
others  as  thy  successors  in  the  work  of  superintending  the  Church 
of  God." 

In  this  earnest  and  solemn  manner  the  apostle  pressed  upon 
Timothy  the  indispensable  duty  of  keeping  himself  pure — of  avoid- 
ing everything  which  would  sully  the  glory  of  his  character  as  an 
ambassador  of  Jesus  Christ,  that  he  might  maintain  the  high  dig- 
nity of  his  office  as  a  ruler  hi  the  Church,  and  never  sufler  his  hands 
to  be  defiled  by  laying  thorn  on  heads  that  could  not  think,  or  of 
consecrating  those  to  the  work  of  the  ministry  ^Yhose  lives  contra- 
dicted their  profession. 

Now  the  question  arises  and  presents  itself  to  us  with  resistless 
force,  AYould  the  apostle  have  been  thus  solicitous  to  preserve  the 
person  to  whom  he  was  Avriting  in  this  holy  obedience,  had  he 
believed  that  it  was  a  matter  of  small  consequence  how  he  be- 
lieved and  lived,  how  impure  his  heart  and  corrupt  his  life,  if  he 
were  only  canonically  consecrated  to  his  work?  It  is  absolutely 
certain,  therefore,  that  the  modern  doctrine  of  the  inviolability  of 
the  ministerial  or  episcopal  character,  notwithstanding  vicious- 
ness  of  life  either  before  or  after  consecration,  finds  no  support 
from  the  apostolic  epistles,  nor  in  any  other  portion  of  the  sacred 
writings.  This  monstrous  doctrine  not  only  had  no  place  in 
the  mind  of  the  apostle,  but  is  indirectly  condemned  in  express 
terms  in  verse  15,  where  he  says:  "All  they  which  are  in  Asia" 
— that  is,  those  Asiatic  Christians  which  were  m  Rome  at  the 
time  of  my  imprisonment,  and  who  for  a  season  administered  to  my 
necessities,  seeing  me  in  this  disgrace — "  be  turned  away  from  me, 
among  whom  are  Phygcllus  and  llei-mogenes," — probably  two  presby- 
ters well  known  to  Timothy,  else  the  mentioning  them  thus  by  name 
could  have  been  of  no  manner  of  use,  as  he  could  have  derived  no  spe- 
ciJSc  information  from  having  tlieir  names  announced;  as  their  names 
would,  under  that  circumstance,  have  been  unmeaning  epithets. 
These  public  men,  who  probably  had  been  once  preachers  of  the 
gospel,  had,  by  their  cowardice  in  forsaking  the  apostle  in  the  time 
of  his  greatest  need,  forfeited  their  right  to  minister  in  holy  things, 
and  were  consequently  no  longer  to  be  recognised  by  Timothy  as 
co-labourers  in  the  ministry  of  reconciliation.  Understanding  the 
passage  in  this  light,  we  may  perceive  good  and  substantial  reasons 
why  the  apostle  mentioned  their  names  to  Timothy;  namely,  that  he 


542  The  Second  Epistle  of  Paul  to  Timothy.      [October, 

might  be  on  his  guard  against  their  impositions,  should  they  chance 
to  intrude  themselves  into  his  company,  inasmuch  as  they  had  for- 
feited the  character  of  legitimate  ministers,  presbyters,  or  bishops, 
by  their  want  of  fidelity  to  the  apostle  in  the  awful  crisis  in  which 
he  was  placed ;  otherwise  there  can  be  no  justifiable  reason  why  the 
apostle  should  thus  announce  their  names  and  parade  their  apostasy 
in  this  public  manner,  and  thus  contradistinguish  them  from  those 
Asiatic  Christians  who  had  also  forsaken  him  in  his  perilous 
condition. 

Allowing  these  views  to  be  correct,  and  they  certainly  obtain  a 
high  degi'ce  of  probability  from  the  views  above  expressed,  it  follows, 
of  necessit}',  that  a  title  to  minister  in  holy  things  depends  not  only 
upon  antecedent  qualifications,  but  also  upon  a  perseverance  in  the 
discharge  of  every  known  duty.  Those  who,  like  Judas — who  lost 
his  apostleship  by  his  base  treachery — have  vitiated  their  office  by 
unworthy  conduct,  arc  no  longer  to  be  considered  in  the  line  of  suc- 
cession, however  canonically  they  may  have  been  inducted  into  the 
order  of  presbyters  or  bishops.  Hence  our  apostle  warns  Timothy 
against  such  cowards  as  Phygellus  and  Hermogenes  had  proved 
themselves  to  be,  and  exhorts  him  not  to  imitate  their  fatal 
example  by  being  "  ashamed  of  the  testimony  of  our  Lord,  nor  of 
me  his  prisoner:  but  be  thou  a  partaker  of  the  afflictions  of  the 
gospel,  according  to  the  power  of  God."  Chap,  i,  ver.  8. 

And  that  the  apostle  designed  that  Timothy  should  'be  careful  to 
select  suitable  men,  who  should  not  be  easily  turned  aside  from  the 
path  of  duty  by  persecution  or  any  other  occurrence,  whether  sig- 
nificant or  trifling,  in  chap,  ii,  2,  he  says:  "And  the  things  that  thou 
hast  heard  of  me  amongmany  witnesses,  the  same  commit  thou  to  faith- 
ful men," — not  to  those  who,  like  Phygellus  and  Hermogenes,  prove 
themselves  weak  and  unfaithful  in  the  hour  of  danger,  and  demon- 
strate their  instability  by  forsaking  their  old  friend  and  spiritual 
father  merely  because  he  has  fallen  into  the  hands  of  his  enemies, 
who  load  him  with  reproach,  imprison  and  condemn  him ;  but  select 
such  as  "  shall  be  able,"  both  by  precept  and  example,  "  to  teach 
others"  the  way  to  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  though  it  may  lead  them 
through  the  thorny  path  of  "  much  tribulation."  Why  insist  on 
Timothy's  selecting  faithful  men — a  word  of  ominous  import,  espe- 
cially considering  tiic  time  when  it  was  spoken,  comprehending  every 
ministerial  virtue — if  it  were  a  matter  of  little  moment  whether  their 
religious  and  moral  character  was  good  or  bad,  provided  only  they 
were  regularly  consecrated  according  to  a  prescribed  ritual  to  their 
sacred  office V  This  absurd  dogma  never,  entered  the  heart  of  the 
apostle  I'aul.     It  is  fit  only  for  the  brains  of  a  madman.     The 


1853.]  The  Second  Epistle  of  Paul  to  Timothy.  543 

note  of  Dr.  Adam  Clarke  on  Ezekiel  xxv,  23,  is  worthy  of  consider- 
ation.   He  says : — 

"  By  the  kind  providence  of  GckJ,  it  appears  that  he  has  not  permitted  any 
apostolic  succtS!<ion  to  be  preserved ;  lest  the  incuibers  of  his  Church  should 
seek,  in  an  uninterrupted  yuccessioii,  that  which  must  be  found  in  the  IIead 
alone." 

And  in  his  note  on  2  Tim.  ii,  2,  he  has  the  following  remarks : — 

"But  v/here  is  the  uninterrupted  apostolic  succession?  Who  can  tell  V 
Probably  it  does  not  exist  on  the  Cvo  of  the  -world.  All  the  pretensions  to  it 
by  certain  Churches  are  as  stupid  as  they  are  idle  and  fntile.  lie  who  appeals 
to  this  for  his  authority  as  a  C'liristian  minister,  had  best  sit  down  till  he  has 
made  it  out ;  and  this  will  be  by  the  next  Greek  Thalends." 

Again,  on  Heb.  v,  4,  his  remarks  are  still  more  pointed : — 

"  It  is  idle  to  employ  time  in  proving  that  there  is  no  such  thing  as  an  unin' 
terrupted  siiccession  of  this  kind.  It  docs  not  exist;  it  never  did  exist.  It 
is  a  silly  fable  invented  by  ecclcsiiistieal  tyrants,  and  supported  by  clerical 
coxcombs." 

We  have  dwelt  the  longer  upon  this  topic  because  this  spurious 
and  obsolete  dogma  has  been  revived  of  late,  and  asserted  with  all 
the  confidence  of  infallible  certainty;  as  much  so  as  if  the  salvation 
of  the  world  were  suspended  upon  its  truth.  Indeed,  it  has  been 
affirmed,  with  cool  deliberation,  that  there  is  no  well-authenticated 
ministry,  and,  of  course,  no  valid  ordinances,  except  they  are  de- 
rived in  a  regular  line  of  apostolic  succession!  To  those  who  are 
familiar  with  ecclesiastical  history — who  have  read  of  the  bitter 
rivalry  of  popes — the  hot  disputes  of  bishops  contending  for 
supremacy — who  are  acquainted  with  the  undeniable  fact  that 
two,  and  at  one  time  three,  popes  reigned  at  the  same  time,  each 
claiming  infallibilit}', — and  recollect  the  wickedness  by  which  the 
greater  proportion  of  them  were  distinguished, — their  venality, 
their  licentiousness,  their  meanness,  all  mixed  with  imbecile  igno- 
rance,— such  an  assertion  will  appear  not  barely  ridiculous,  but  blas- 
phemously absurd.  It  is  tantamount  to  saying  that  the  Holy  God, 
the  immaculate  Head  of  the  Church,  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  is  de-  . 
pendent  upon  a  rotten  priesthootl — upon  polluted  bishops — upon 
perjured  prelates — upon  a  licentiou.s  hierarchy— to  hand  down  his 
ordinances  pure  and  uncoiTupt,  uncontaminatcd  by  any  moral  pollu- 
tion, from  one  generation  to  another'*     What  a  monstrous  suppo- 

°  la  1014,  two  popes,  namely,  Sylvester  III.  lunl  Gregory  VI.,  after  many  tur- 
bulent disputes  and  mutual  anathemas,  reigned  at  the  same  time,  while  a  third, 
Benedict,  who  had  been  dcjxiscJ,  still  claimed  the  pontifical  throne.  Finally, 
Henry  III.  terminated  the  discord  by  declaring  all  the  three  unworthy  of  the 


544  The  Second  Epistle  of  Paul  to  Titnothy.     [October, 

sition  is  this !  AVere  it  proved  true,  the  infallible  maxim  of  holy 
writ  would  be  found  a  falsehood,  namely,  that  no  "  fountain  can  send 
forth  at  the  same  place  sweet  water  and  bitter ;"  and  the  words  of 
the  Master  Teacher  would  be  equally  void  of  meaning,  "ISI^ either 
can  a  corrupt  tree  bring  forth  good  fruit."  For,  according  to  this 
absurd  dogma,  the  stream  of  succession  has  continued  to  flow  on 
regularly  through  this  muddy  channel,  and  yet  never  mixing  with 
its  filth,  but  maintaining  its  pristine  purity  down  to  the  present 
time!  Such  a  doctrine  is  both  theologically  and  philosophically 
absiu-d. 

If  this  were  the  only  legitimate  ministry  the  Church  possessed, 
what  a  world  should  we  have!  "Darbiess  would  cover  the  earth, 
and  gross  darkness  the  minds  of  the  people."  Is  it  any  wonder 
that  Wiclif,  Huss,  Jerome,  Luther,  Zwingle,  and  a  host  of  others, 
lifted  up  their  voices  in  denunciation  of  this  and  other  absurdities 
of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church?  Little  did  they  think,  we  appre- 
hend, that  any  of  their  successors  in  the  Protestant  world  would 
revive  the  same  dogma,  and  claim  to  themselves  the  exclusive  right 
of  administering  the  rites  of  consecration,  of  baptism,  and  the 
Lord's  supper. 

Exclusive  right!  Where  did  they  get  it?  From  Rome.  Then, 
by  granting  this  right  to  them,  Rome  deprived  herself  of  it,  if  it  be 
now  theirs  exclusively.  But,  if  the  Roman  Catholic  Church  im- 
parted this  right  to  them,  when  She  excluded  them  from  her  com- 
munion, as  she  did  for  contumacy,  heresy,  or  some  other  supposed 
crime,  she  unquestionably  deprived  them  of  all  she  had  granted; 
for  whoever  grants  a  privilege,  on  certain  conditions,  whenever  these 
conditions  cease  to  be  complied  with,  has  the  undoubted  right  to 
withdraw  the  grant.  And  this  was  precisely  the  predicament  of  all 
these  Protestant  reformers  who  abjured  the  jurisdiction  of  the  Ro- 
man Catholic  Church,  protested  against  the  power  of  the  pope,  and 
ceased  to  exercise  the  functions  of  their  office  as  Roman  Catholic 
priests  or  bishops.  Hence  they  forfeited  all  the  rights  they  derived 
from  this  source,  and,  therefore,  the  line  of  connexion  between  them 
is  broken,  and  they  are  left  in  the  dilemma  of  orphan  children,  or 
driven  to  the  necessity  of  admitting  a  legitimacy  from  a  divorced 
marriage. 

What  an  arrogant  assumption  is  this  claim  of  exclusive  right ! 
How  unworthy  of  the  truly  Christian  minister,  and  how  opposite 

popedom,  and  invested  Suidgcr,  Bishop  of  Bamberg,  as  the  legitimate  pope, 
who  took  the  name  of  Clement  II.— Mosh.,  vol.  ii,  p.  loC. 

Let  those  ■who  wish  to  see  the  truth  of  the  above  remarks  confirmed,  consult . 
Mosheim  for  the  ninth,  tenth,  and  eleventh  centurj-. 


1853.]  The  Second  Epistle  of  Paul  to  Timothy.  545 

to  the  doctrine  laid  down  by  the  apostle  in  the  epistle  before  us ! 
He  says  in  chap,  ii,  ver.  1,  "13c  strong,"  not  in  thy  outward  profession, 
not  in  thy  external  designation  to  the  work  of  an  evangelist,  but 
"in  the  grace  that  is  in  Christ  Jesus  the  Lord."  This  sentence  un- 
folds the  true  source  of  strength  to  the  minister  of  the  sanctuary : 
■whether  he  be  of  an  inferior  or  su})crior  order,  his  soul  must  be  fed 
continually  with  the  grace  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  that  he  may 
possess  the  vigour  necessary  for  his  important  work.  In  verse  G  he 
says,  "  The  husbandman  that  laboureth  must  first  be  partaker  of  the 
fruits."  He  must  not  only  cultivate  the  earth,  but,  if  he  would 
have  strength  to  continue  his  labour,  he  must  participate  in  the 
fruits  which  the  cultivated  earth  produces.  So  the  minister  of  the 
Lord  Jesas,  if  he  would  have  spiritual  strength  to  persevere  in  his 
work,  must  not  be  content  in  the  mere  consecration  to  his  office,  but 
he  must  partake  daily  of  the  "hidden  manna"  of  God's  love— he 
must  receive  continual  supplies  of  that  "grace  that  is  in  Christ 
Jesus," — that  is  treasured  uj)  in  him  expressly  for  the  spiritual 
strength  of  the  believing  soul.  It  is,  indeed,  by  a  constant  par- 
taking of  these  heavenly  fruits,  that  the  minister  of  the  sanctuary  is 
made  competent  for  his  work. 

In  the  subsequent  part  of  this  chapter  the  apostle  shows  what  is 
necessary  for  Timothy  to  do,  that  he  may  receive  the  strength 
essential  to  his  success  as  a  preacher  of  the  gospel  and  a  ruler 
in  the  Church  of  God.  After  adverting  to  his  OAvn  example 
in  "suflering  trouble,"  having  been  flilscly  charged  as  "an  evil- 
doer," (ver.  9,)  though  his  confinement  in  prison  could  not  bind  the 
word  of  God,  inasmuch  as  his  soul  was  yet  free  to  range  throuf'h 
the  prolific  field  of  theological  truth,  and  his  pen  ready  to  write  his 
thoughts  for  the  edification  of  Timothy,  he  endured  "  all  things  for 
the  elect's  sake,"  (ver.  10,») — after  recounting  these  things  as  an 
encouragement  to  his  son  Timothy,  and  charging  him  not  to  strive 
about  mere  words,  which  could  not  profit  those  to  whom  he  spoke, 
(ver.  14,)  he  then  issues  his  connnand  with  all  the  solemnity  of  a 
dying  man :  "  Study  to  show  thyself  approved  unto  God,  a  workman 
that  needeth  not  to  be  ashamed,  rightly  dividing  the  Avord  of  tmth," 
(ver.  15.)  That  he  might  do  this  cirectually,  he  must  "  shun  pro- 
fane and  vain  babblings,"  a  mere  repetition  of  unmeaning  words,  or 
an  effort  to  astonish  the  hearer  by  flights  of  human  oratory,  which 
may  amuse  the  fancy  for  the  time,  but  convey  no  solid  instruction 
to  the  understanding,  much  less  that  divine  food  to  the  soul  which 
is  essential  to  its  growth  and  strength.  AVe  know  that  the  Grecian 
and  Roman  orators  were  more  solicitous  to  adorn  their  discourses 
with  the  tinsel  of  human  art,  with  well-constructed  sentences,  to 


546  The  Second  Epistle  of  Paul  to  Timothy.     [October, 

deliver  them  with  a  nice  modulation  of  the  voice,  "with  studied  ges- 
ticulations of  the  body,  than  they  were  to  store  them  with  sober 
truth ;  and  hence  they  lost  the  "  substance  in  the  shadow,"  And  as 
to  Jewish  rabbins,  they  wore  much  more  attentive  to  the  sifting  of 
words,  to  tracing  out  the  endless  genealogies  of  their  ancestors, 
than  they  were  to  the  real  meaning  of  their  prophetic  Scriptures,  and 
to  those  historical  fiicts  by  which  the  proper  lineage  of  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ  was  demonstrated,  and  thus  proved  to  be  the  true  Mes- 
siah. To  this  fact  the  apostle  alludes  in  verse  three  of  chapter  two, 
in  which  he  reminds  Timoth}'  that  Jesus  Christ  Avas  of  the  seed  of 
David,  and  therefore  was  regularly  descended  from  the  royal  line  of 
Judah,  according  to  the  solemn  declaration  of  Jehovah,  (Gen.  xlix, 
10,)  in  which  it  was  announced  that  "  the  sceptre  shall  not  depart 
from  Judah,  nor  a  lawgiver  from  betM-een  his  feet,  until  Shiloh 
come."  And  inasmucli  as  this  Shiloh,  the  Messiah,  the  anointed 
of  God,  had  come  in  the  person  of  Jesus  Christ,  who  was  the  veri- 
table Son  of  David  according  to  the  flesh,  therefore  all  the  pre- 
tences of  the  Jewish  doctors  respecting  a  Messiah  that  was  yet  to 
come,  and  all  the  deciphering  of  their  genealogical  tables  to  ascer- 
tain that  ho  must  be  diflcrent  from  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  were  but 
"vain  babblings,"  a  mere  "strife  of  words"  without  any  substantial 
import.  Moreover,  as  this  same  "seed  of  David,"  who  had  been 
put  to  death  by  an  unjust  sentence,  had  actually  risen  from  the 
dead,  (vcr.  8,)  he  had  thereby  given  a  visible  demonstration  that  he 
was  the  Son  of  God,  and  was  noAv  seated  upon  the  throne  of  David, 
where  he  should  reign  forever  and  ever. 

By  declaring  these,  truths  plainly  and  pointedly,  continually  ap- 
pealing to  the  prophetic  Scriptures  for  their  support,  Timothy  would 
be  able  to  go  straight  forward  in  the  track  of  truth,  not  turning 
aside  to  dispute  either  with  the  Grecian  philosophers,  whose  tin- 
sel might  dazzle  the  minds  of  superficial  observers  or  the  Jewish 
Rabbins,  whose  "vain  babblings"  about  their  uncertain  pedigrees 
miglit  puzzle  the  understanding  of  the  simple,  unlettered  Christian 
with  subtleties  which  kc  could  not  unravel;  and  thus  approve  him- 
self unto  God  a  workman  that  need  not  be  ashamed,  rightly  divid- 
ing the  word  of  trutli— dividing  it  in  such  a  skilful  manner  as  to 
give  to  every  one.  whether  Jew  or  Gentile,  his  portion  of  meat  in 
due  season. 

As  the  main  object  of  the  apostle  was  to  instruct  his  son 
Timothy  in  the  knowledge  of  truth  and  of  the  duties  of  the 
high  station  which  he  was  called  to  fill  as  a  ruler  in  the  Church, 
he  endeavours  to  impress  upon  his  mind  the  necessity  of  sludying 
attentively  the  great  doctrines  of  Christ,  that  he  might  have  a  com- 


1853.]  The  Second  Epistle  of  Paul  to  Ti7nothy.  547 

prchensive  view  of  the  system  of  redemption  and  salvation,  and  be 
able  adequately  to  defend  it  against  all  assailants,  whether  of  Jewish 
etymologists,  who  are  more  solicitous  to  search  out  the  meaning  of 
words  than  they  are  to  identify  the  person  of  their  promised  Mes- 
siah with  one  who  has  already  come,  who  had  "  done  among  them 
those  things  which  none  other  man  ever  did,"  and  thus  bearing  all 
the  characteristics  of  llim  so  often  foretold  by  their  own  prophets, 
or  of  the  sophistical  orators  of  the  Greeks  and  llomans,  who  prided 
themselves  on  their  philosophical  attainments,  and  counted  the 
"  preaching  of  the  cross  foolisjmess."  This  constant  study,  and  this 
constant  exercise  of  the  intellectual  faculties,  the  apostle  deemed 
essential  to  the  increase  of  his  strength:  for  however  holy  he 
might  be,  and  however  much  his  heart  might  be  fed  with  the  grace 
of  God  in  Christ  Jesus,  without  this  constant  application  of  his 
mental  powers,  his  understanding  would  become  enfeebled,  and  he 
would  soon  exhibit  the  imbecility  of  premature  old  age. 

O'wo  things  are  essential  to  a  useful  and  vigorous  exercise  of  the 
intellectual  faculties.  The  first  is  a  good  conscience, — "a  conscience 
void  of  offence  toward  God  and  man."  This  can  be  obtained  and 
kept  only  by  an  unreserved  surrender  of  the  whole  man  to  God, 
and  so  living  by  faith  in  the  Son  of  God  as  to  derive  daily  food- 
spiritual  food— to  the  soul.  This  is  the  first,  the  most  important, 
prerequisite  for  a  minister  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  as  without  it 
the  soul  will  soon  languish  and  die;  that  is,  become  spiritually 
separated  from  communion  with  God,  and  of  course  can  put 
forth  no  energetic  action  in  the  cause  of  evangelical  truth.  The 
second  is  a  continual  application  of  the  mind  to  some  useful 
subject.  We  say  to  some  useful  subject.  By  this  we  mean  a  sub- 
ject suited  to  the  soul's  immortal  powers.  A  man  may  accustom 
himself  to  dwell  on  trivial  subjects,  until  he  loses  all  relish  for 
weighty  and  sober  trutlis,  and  his  mind  will  gradually  lose  its  elas- 
ticity, and  will  refuse,  from  mere  incapacity,  to  follow  any  course  of 
consecutive  reasoning,  until,  at  last,  it  dwindles  into  second  child- 
hood. The  truth  of  this  remark  has  been  verified  by  many  an  emi- 
nent name.  It  is  said  that  after  M" Knight  had  linished  his  great 
work  on  the  apostolical  epistles,  his  friends  urged  him  to  proceed 
in  a  similar  way  with  the  Acts  of  tlie  Apostles.  This  he  declined, 
and  gave  up  all  study ;  and  the  consequence  was,  that  he  gradually 
sunk  away  into  childhood,  and  finally  lost  his  intellectual  powers. 
The  mind,  like  the  body,  needs  constant  exercise,  in  order  to  pre- 
serve its  mental  vigour.  A  suitable  application  of  the  intel- 
lectual faculties  must  be  kept  up,  even  in  old  age,— and  that  too 
upon  those  subjects  which  are  best  adapted  to  its  condition. 


548  The  Second  Epistle  of  Paul  to  Timothy.       [October, 

On  the  other  hand,  it  is  wise  to  avoid  over-taxing  the  mind.  As 
the  body  -will  sink  under  too  much  physical  labour,  so  the  soul  will 
fail  under  too  much  mental  exercise,  especially  if  it  be  long  con- 
tinued. ^Melancholy  instances  of  this  might  be  mentioned.  Among 
others,  in  modern  times,  wo  may  notice  "Walter  Scott  and  Robert 
Southey,  both  of  whom  no  doubt  over-taxed  themselves  on  the  down- 
_  hill  side  of  life.  To  escape  the  like  disasters  we  must  avoid  both 
of  these  extremes,  namely, — a  total  cessation  of  mental  labour  on 
the  one  hand,  and  an  over- exertion  on  the  other. 

Every  man,  and  especially  every  minster  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 
if  he  will  duly  economize  his  time — rightly  divide  it  for  bodily  exer- 
cise and  mental  application — may  discharge  all  his  duties  as  a 
preacher  and  pastor,  and  yet  have  time  enough  to  study  all  he 
ought,  whether  it  be  in  reading  or  writing;  but  he  must  not  devote 
any  part  of  his  time  to  idleness,  to  frivolous  conversation,  nor  to  the 
study  of  those  books  which  do  not  minister  to  the  knowledge  and 
love  of  God.  That  he  may  do  this  and  preserve  his  health,  when- 
ever, in  either  reading  or  writing,  he  begins  to  feel  a  weariness  of 
spirit  or  lassitude  of  mind  come  over  him,  let  him  instantly  lay 
down  his  book  or  pen,  and  commence  to  walk, — and  walk,  too,  in  the 
open  air,  whether  it  be  hot  or  cold,— and  walk  till  he  perspires  freely, 
if  possible ;  and  in  his  walks  let  him  call  on  the  members  of  liis 
flock — especially  the  sick  and  poor,  and  the  delinquents  in  duty — 
speak  a  word  of  comfort,  pray  with  them,  and  then  take  his  de- 
parture; and  Avalk  thus  from  house  to  house  until  he  begins  to  feel 
weary:  then  he  will  return  to  his  studies  with  renewed  zest;  he  will 
feel  all  his  mental  energies  quickened  into  new  life. 

In  this  way  we  may  suppose  the  apostle  Paul  intended  that 
Timothy  should  employ  his  time,  when  he  commanded  him  to  study 
to  show  himself  apjiroved  unto  God,  a  workman  that  need  noi  be 
ashamed. 

Ashamed!  "What  a  shame  for  a  minister  of  the  sanctuary  to  be 
ignorant  of  any  promijient  fact  in  history,  whether  civil  or  ecclesias- 
tical ;  of  any  important  personage  who  has  been  conspicuous  in  the 
world — whether  in  the  civil,  military,  or  religious  Avorld;  of  any 
point  in  cln-onology  which  marks  an  important  epoch  in  the  world's 
history;  of  any  truth  in  theology  which  may  serve  to  illustrate  the 
facts  and  doctrines  of  the  Liblc;  of  any  eminent  Avriter  on  theo- 
logical subjects  who  has  shed  light  upon  divine  revelation,  and  more 
especially  upon  those  truths  which  relate  to  experimental  and  prac- 
tical religion !  Other  branches  of  knowledge  he  may  pursue,  as  time 
and  inclination  may  serve,  such  as  philosophy — natural,  moral,  and 
mental;  geography— so  far  at  least  as  to  have  the  outlines  of  the 


1853.]  '  DavidsorCs  Biblical  Criticism.  549 

■world's  map  cngi-aven  upon  his  memory ;  astronomy,  if  he  have  a 
capacity  to  understand  it ;  and  as  much  of  language,  or  as  many 
languages,  as  he  can  acquire.  All  these  things  are  comprehended 
in  the  works  and  ways  of  God ;  and  therefore  the  more  we  know  of 
them,  the  more  perfectly  shall  we  be  able  to  illustrate  the  attributes 
of  the  Deity,  and  to  demonstrate  his  superintending  care  over  the 
work  of  his  hands. 

Near  the  conclusion  of  this  admirable  letter,  the  author,  with 
great  solemnity,  adverts  to  the  approach  of  his  expected  martyrdom. 
In  chap,  iv,  6,  he  says :  "  For  I  am  now  ready  to  be  offered,  and 
the  time  of  my  departure  is  at  hand."  It  is  hardly  possible  for  a 
person  writing  under  such  circumstances — in  the  near  prospect  of 
death,  with  the  cross  on  which  he  is  to  be  crucified  immediately  be- 
fore his  eye,  the  Judge  before  whom  he  is  so  soon  to  appear  stand- 
ing, as  it  were,  before  him — to  be  otherwise  than  serious.  These 
words,  therefore,  uttered  under  such  circumstances,  must  have  made 
a  solemn  and  lasting  impression  ujion  the  mind  and  heart  of  Timothy. 
And  lest  he  should  mourn  over  the  remains  of  his  spiritual  father 
after  his  departure,  the  apostle  reminds  him  that  he  had  already 
fought  the  good  fight,  that  he  hail  finished  his  course;  and  so  far 
from  looking  into  the  "gaping  tomb"  with  gloomy  apprehensions  of 
the  future,  he  comforts  himself  with  tlie  bright  prospect  of  receiving 
the  "  crown  of  righteousness,  which  the  Lord,  the  righteous  Judge, 
shall  give  him  in  that  day;"  and,  as  if  anticipating  the  unspeakable 
pleasure  of  participating  with  'J'imothy  and  all  others  who  loved 
or  shall  love  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  in  sincerity,  he  adds,  '"'and  not 
to  me  only,  but  to  all  those  who  love  his  appearing." 

With  these  words  it  seems  fitting  that  we  should  close  our- 
remarks  upon  this  highly  interesting  epistle. 


Art.  IV^DAVIDSOX'S  BIBLICAL  CRITICISM. 

A  Treatise  on  Biblical  Crilicism,  exhibititicr  a  Systenialic  View  of  that  Science. 
By  S.\Muix  Davidson',  D.  P.,  of  the  University  of  }hille,  and  LL.  P.  2  vols., 
8vo.     Vol.  I,  tlic  Dili  Testament;  Vol.  11,  the  New  Testament.     London:  lSr>3. 

The  name  BielICAL  CurricrsM,  as  usually  understood, embraces 
the  investigation  and  discussion  of  whatever  relates  to  the  form  in 
which  the  sacred  records  have  come  down  to  us — including  their 
language,  histor}'',  style,  nuthenticit}',  and  purity.  In  popular 
phraseology,  nmch  that  belongs  to  the  meaning  of  the  Bible  has 


650  Davidson's  Biblical  Criticism.  [October, 

often  been  classed  under  the  same  name,  instead  of  under  that  of 
sacred  Interpretation.  Each  of  the  above  subjects,  however,  prop- 
erly forms  a  distinct  branch  of  literature,  under  the  special  titles  of 
sacred  Fliilology,  Rhetoric,  Ilcrvieneutics,  et  cetera,  leaving  Biblical 
Criticism  proper  to  occupy  itself  solely  with  the  state  of  the  text 
of  Scripture,  or  what  is  frequently  termed  the  "lower  criticism," 
as  lying  at  the  foundation  of  all  the  other  departments.  It  is 
with  this  that  the  volumes  before  us  have  exclusively  to  do,  and  to 
this  we  shall  therefore  confine  ourselves  in  the  present  article.  The 
object  of  the  science  is  to  ascertain,  as  nearly  as  possible,  what  ifords 
the  inspired  authors  wrote  when  they  penned  the  original  auto- 


If  this,  the  true  design  of  sacred  criticism,  had  always  been 
steadily  and  sincerely  kept  in  view,  both  by  the  friends  and  foes  of 
revelation,  neither  party  would  ever  have  entertained  such  absurd 
prejudices  as  have  often  been  expressed  against  the  science  by  both. 
The  honest  Christian,  at  least,  could  certainly  never  have  objected 
to  the  exercise  of  any  amount  of  learned  labour  necessary  to  arrive 
at  the  genuine  language  of  the  inspired  records,  had  he  properly 
understood  the  fact  that  such  studies  and  examinations  constitute 
the  very  basis  on  which  the  whole  truth  of  his  religion  rests.  Let 
it  once  bo  a  matter  of  uncertainty  whether  the  book  which  goes  by 
the  name  of  the  ]jible  contains  the  genuine  statements  of  the  Jewish 
seers  and  Christian  apo.-^tlcs,  and  that  moment  our  faith  falls  to  the 
ground.  It  is  painful,  therefore,  to  the  liberal  and  candid  mind,  to 
revert  to  the  prejudices  and  opposition  which  such  inquiries  have 
met  with  in  former  times,  within  the  bosom  of  the  Church  itself; 
■and  it  is  mortifying  to  cutch  now  and  then  from  modern  Christians  an 
echo  of  the  same  narrow  sentiments.  Even  ministers,  authors,  and 
editors  are  occasionally  found  who  openly  decry  or  privately  discour- 
age such  pursuits,  from  the  mistaken  notion  that  they  weaken  the 
popular  reverence  for  the  AVord  of  God.*     Revelation  needs  no  such 

°A  striking  instance  of  thia  illiberal  spirit,  although  not  in  all  respects  a 
parallel  case,  occurred  at  the  publication  of  the  Latin  Vulgate,  in  the  fourth 
century,  which  we  will  give  in  our  author's  words.  Any  one  who  should  under- 
take a  similar  revision  of  the  Bible  in  our  own  day  would  meet  with  even  fiercer 
denunciation : — 

"Notwithstandine  the  timid  and  cautious  procedure  of  Jerome,  the  work  ex- 
cited the  opposition  of  many.  An  excessive  and  superstitious  veneration  for  the 
Septuaa;int,  and  the  vettia  made  from  it,  prevailed  at  that  time,  so  that  any  one 
who  departed  froin  them  could  not  hope  to  escape  animadversion.  Calumnies 
were  freely  uttered  against  the  laborious  translator.  He  was  pronounced  a 
heretic.    Detraction  and  opposition  befell  him.    Even  Augustine  joined  partially 


1853.]  Davidson's  Biblical  Criticism.  551 

defenders;  it  seeks  no  lurkiug-place ;  it  fears  no  investigation. 
En-or  alone  can  suffer  by  an  examination  of  evidence.  It  is 
the  height  of  fanatical  folly  to  cling  to  any  system  _  of  belief 
•which  ^Ye  are  not  willing  to  submit  to  the  most  searching  test  of 
facts.  If  the  Bible  will  not  bear  the  closest  scrutiny  that  a  fair 
criticism  can  apply,  then  are  we  free  to  confess  it  unwortliy  of  our 
confidence^. -Oa  ti^e  iJOytrary,  it  has  always  triumphed  after  such 
an  ordeal;  and  it  is  these  very  labours  of  Biblical  critics  that  have 
established  the  substantial  and  wonderful  accuracy  of  the  text  of 
Scripture  on  a  basis  of  certainty  Avhich  the  cavils  of  infidels  can 
never  hereafter  shake. 

The  materials  for  such  an  investigation,  so  far  as  the  Old  Testa- 
ment is  concerned,  the  first  vokmie  of  the  work  before  us  sums  up 
in  the  following  terms— having  prefaced  their  discussion  by  several 
prehminary  chapters,  not  ])articularly  inappropriate,  treating  some- 
what minutely  of  the  nature  of  the  Hebrew  language,  its  characters 
and  vowels,  followed  by  a  valuable  and  extended  account  of  the 
history  of  the  text  from  the  earliest  times  down  to  the  present.  We 
have,  then,  in  order,  as  the  means  for  restoring  the  text :— I.  Ancient 
Versions— II.  Parallels,  or  repeated  passages— III.  Quotations— 
lY.  Hebrew  MSS.— V.  Critical  conjecture. 

Of  all  the  ancient  versions  of  the  Old  Testament,  the  Septuagint, 
or  old  Greek,  holds  by  far  the  most  conspicuous  place.  Indeed,  it 
has  often  been  exalted  to  an  authority  equal  or  even  superior  to  that 
of  the  Hebrevr  itself  Dr.  Davidson  enters  somev.'hat  minutely  into 
the  question  of  its  origin,  and  arrives  at  the  conclusion,  drawn  from  an 
ino'enious,  but  we  think  not  unwarrantable,  comparison  of  circum- 
stances, that  it  was  made  by  dilTcrent  persons,  at  different  times; 
the  Pentateuch  only  having  been  translated  at  first  for  the  use  of 

with  bis  accusers,  not  daring  to  fro  ft^^^iii't  the  stream  of  popular  opinion,  though 
he  at  first  hailed  the  work  with  joy.  He  advisdl  Jerome  not  to  proceed  with  it, 
telling  him  of  a  late  occurrence  in  Africa  as  a  warning  to  desist.  A  bishop  there 
had  introduced  the  new  Tcrsion  into  his  Church ;  but  -when  the  people  heard 
another  name  given  to  the  gourd  of  Jonah,  they  were  excited,  and  refused 
obedience  till  the  old  Bible  was  restored.  The  new  translation  was  said  to  be 
a  falsification  of  the  word  of  God.  Its  departures  from  the  current  Greek  ver- 
sion, and  from  the  old  Latin  version,  taken  from  the  Greek,  were  seized  a^  proofs 
of  the  danger  accruing  from  the  new  work.  Accordingly  it  was  reserved  for  the 
more  correct  judgment  of  posterity  to  appitciatc  the  merits  of  Jerome  as  a 
translator.  His  contemporarie.=<  con<lemncd,  when  they  ought  to  have  approved 
and  applauded.  The  numerous  passages  in  which  he  alluiles  to  the  unjust  treat- 
ment he  met  with  have  been  collected  by  Van  E^^s,  and  form  a  melanchuly  ex- 
hibition of  the  unreasonable,  injurious  prejudices  to  which  good  men  are  exposed 
in  an  evil  world."— Vol.  i.  p.  2(i7. 


552  Davidsoii's  Biblical  Criticism.  [October, 

the  Egyptian  Jews,  probably  under  the  patronage  of  Ptolemy  Lagi. 
The  value  of  its  several  portions,  for  critical  purposes,  is  therefore 
various, — some  parts  bcinp;  literally  and  faithfuly  rendered,  and 
others  so  nearly  approaching  the  character  of  a  paraphrase,  that 
they  are  useless  as  an  index  to  the  reading  of  the  HebrcAv,  even  as  it 
•was  in  their  own  time.  That  it  -was  ever  used  for  public  service  in 
the  synagogues  of  Palestine,  the  author  properly  regards  as  question- 
able. As  to  its  singular  agreement  in  the  main  ^Yith  the  Samaritan 
Pentateuch,  after  examining  the  various  theories  proposed,  the  author 
concludes :  "  As  yet  no  satisfactory  solution  of  the  problem  has  been 
offered.  Perhaps  it  is  impossible."  On  the  whole,  however,  he 
thinks  that,  "  in  the  present  state  of  the  question,  nothing  better  can 
be  proposed  than  that  the  countries  where  the  Samaritan  Pentateuch 
originated,  and  the  Jewish  IMSS.,  as  the  basis  of  the  Seventy,  had 
been  in  circulation,  were  much  less  favourable  to  the  preservation 
of  a  pure  text  than  Palestine,  or  rather  its  metropolis;"  and  that 
therefore  both  these  suflcred  similar  alterations  from  like  causes — 
a  conclusion  with  which  we  coincide. 

Unhappily,  for  purposes  of  criticism,  the  text  of  the  Septuagint  it- 
self is  in  a  state  of  hopeless  corruption.  The  very  means  anciently  used, 
at  various  times,  to  correct  it,  hj  recensions,  editions,  t\:c.,  have  only 
increased  the  difliculty,  so  that  now  it  is  impossible  to  determine,  in 
cases  of  variation,  M  Inch  was  the  original  and  true  reading.  The  slight- 
est comparison  of  the  various  printed  texts  in  use  will  render  this  at 
once  apparent.  Kcithcr  is  the  translation  itself  altogether  to  be 
depended  on:  it  is  not  literal;  it  amplifies  obscure  or  elliptical 
passages;  it  resolves  tropes  and  metaphors  into  literal  phrases; 
it  accommodates  itself  to  the  religious  prejudices  and  views  of  the 
Jews;  it  often  errs  in  the  sense,  and  sometimes  omits  or  leaves  un- 
translated difficult  or  rare  words :  instances  of  each  of  these  pecu- 
liarities are  given  in  the  volume  before  us.  These  faults  apply, 
indeed,  less  to  the  Pentateuch  than  to  the  other  books ;  but  they 
are  everywhere  sufficiently  apparent  to  betray  the  fact,  that  none  of 
the  translators  were  entiri-ly  competent  to  their  task.  The  author 
accordingly  sums  up  the  merits  and  defects  of  the  version  in  the 
following  candid  language: — 

"  Assistance  in  cntloism  has  doubtless  been  derived  from  it;  and  more  will 
yet  be  rendered.^  ^\'e  do  not  lliink  that  its  internal  value  is  commensurate 
with  the  reputation  it  has  ha<'..  The  extravagant  praises  pronounced  upon  it 
•will  be  lessened  by  tlic  study  of  its  genius  and  chatacter.  It  is  very  far  from 
being  a  fjoorl,  much  less  nnerrelhnt  translation;  but  the  reading  of  it  cannot 
be  dispensed  -svith.  Its  position  in  the  criticism  of  the  Old  Testament  is  con- 
spicuous, lis  text  must  be  studied  by  every  one  engaged  in  Biblical  researches 
connected  v.ifli  the  inteirritv  of  the  Hebrew  records." — P.  194. 


1853.]  Davidson's  Biblical  Criticism.  553 

There  are  four  other  Greek  versions  extant,— those  of  Aquila, 
Theodotion,  and  Symmachus,  and  a  MS.  version  now  at  Venice. 
Of  these,  the  version  of  Aquila  is  far  the  best  for  critical  purposes, 
on  account  of  its  litcralncss ;  the  others  bcin^^  very  paraphrastic  and 
rambling,  that  of  S^'mmachus  in  particular.  The  version  of  Aquila 
was  highly  prized  by  the  Jews  of  the  early  centuries,  and  that  of 
Theodotion  by  Christians,  the  Look  of  Daniel  being  taken  from  the 
latter  to  supply  the  very  faulty  version  of  that  part  in  the  Septua-. 
gint.  All  these  versions  aj)pcar  to  have  grown  out  of  the  contests 
between  the  Jews  and  Christians,  and  were  probably  made  in  the 
latter  part  of  the  second  century. 

The  Targums,  or  Chaldee  versions,  furnish  additional  means  for 
coiTCcting  the  text.  The  oldest  of  these  have  probably  been  lost, 
as  some  appear  to  have  been  written  at  least  as  early  as  the  time 
of  Christ.  The  Targum  of  Onkelos,  the  most  valuable  of  those 
extant,  is  a  close  translation  of  tlie  text  of  the  Pentateuch  only,  in 
dure  diction.  The  time  and  place  of  writing  are  uncertain.  It 
would  be  very  valuable  for  critical  purposes,  but  for  the  fact  that  it 
closely  follows  the  Masoretic  text,  and  therefore  affords  very  few 
various  readings.  The  date  and  origin  of  the  Targum  of  Jonathan, 
which  contains  the  other  books  of  the  Old  Testament,  exclusive  of 
Job,  and  David's  and  Solomon's  writings,  are  equally  uncertain. 
His  translation  is  rather  an  interpretation,  running  into  diffuse  ex- 
planations and  absurd  legends.  In  many  places,  however,  he  trans- 
lates faithfully  into  good  Chaldee ;  in  these  parts,  therefore,  the  work 
is  useful  to  the  critic,  as  it  docs  not  so  closely  follow  the  Masoretic 
text  as  Onkelos.  The  other  Targums  on  the  Pentateuch— those  of 
Pseudo- Jonathan  and  the  Jenisalcm  Targum— are  too  late,  and  too 
much  filled  with  traditional  dissertations  and  diffuse  speculations,  to 
be  of  any  value.  Indeed,  a  closer  inspection  leads  to  the  probability 
that  the  last  two  are  only  different  editions  of  the  same  work.  There 
are  various  other  Targums  on  parts  or  the  whole  of  the  remainino- 
books  of  the  Old  Testament;  but  they  are  all  so  tainted  with  the 
faults  of  the  preceding  as  to  be  of  little,  and  in  most  cases  of  no  use 
to  the  critic. 

Next  to  the  Septuagint,  the  most  important  of  the  ancient  ver- 
sions is  the  Samaritan  Pentateuch.  This  is  different  from  the 
Samaritan  version,  being  in  diet  only  a  transcription  of  the  Hebrew 
text  in  Samaritan  letters.  As  it  is  not,  therefore,  strictly  a  version 
at  all,  the  author  does  not  treat  it  under  this  head,  but  it  will  be 
more  convenient  for  our  purpose  to  consider  it  here.  From  the 
well-known  foct  that  the  present  Samaritan  character  is  the  ancient 
Hebrew— that  now  called  Hebrew  being  only  the  later  Chaldee— it 
FouKTU  Series,  Vol.  V. — 35 


554  Davidson's  Biblical  Criticism.  [October,. 

has  been  affirmed  by  mauy  that  the  Samaritan  Pentateuch  is  the 
original,  and  has  always  remained  in  its  present  form ;  while  it  is 
the  present  Hebrew  that  was  transcribed  in  other  letters  from  it. 
Others  maintain  that  the  Samaritan  has  a  much  later  date,  and 
owes  its  origin  to  the  feud  at  the  time  of  the  building  of  the  second 
temple.  The  work  before  us  enters  at  considerable  length  into  the 
discussion  of  this  question,  and  concludes  with  a  sort  of  compro- 
mise between  the  above  views;  that  is,  (if  we  have  rightl}'  under- 
stood its  somewhat  ambiguous  argumentation,)  that  the  Pentateuch 
had  been  in  existence  in  the  kingdom  of  Israel  before  the  deporta- 
tion of  the  ten  tribes,  and  even  survived  that  period;  but  shortly 
after  that  event,  it  had  so  fallen  into  oblivion,  or  had  perhaps  so 
nearly  ceased  to  be  extant  there,  that  it  had  to  be  brought  afresh 
from  the  Jews,  in  the  reign  of  Josiah,  king  of  Judah.  With  this 
view  wc  confess  ourselves  hardly  satisfied.  That  the  ton  tribes  had 
the  Pentateuch  origiualh',  as  well  as  the  two  other  tribes,  appears  to 
us  to  admit  scarcely  a  doubt.  jS'ow,  although  it  is  not  certain  that 
the  entire  literature  of  the  ten  tribes  perished  with  their  captivity, 
yet  the  immediate  and  total  ignorance  of  the  worship  of  Jehovah, 
by  those  mixed  Israelites  and  heathens  who  supplied  their  place, 
seems  to  us  clearly  to  imply  an  absence  of  the  written  word  in  which 
that  worship  was  prescribed.  Certainly  nothing  could  have  been 
more  natural  than  for  the  priest — who  returned  from  Assyria  to  teach 
the  people — to  carry  witii  him  a  copy  of  the  law.  Yet  the  copies 
would  not  be  likely  to  multiply  very  rapidly;  and  it  ma}-  not  have 
been  till  the  reformation  by  Josiah  that  they  became  at  all  immerous. 
The  subsequent  accession  of  the  regular  Jewish  high-priest,  Manas- 
seh,  from  Jerusalem  to  the  Samaritans,  would  greatly  increase  their 
multiplication ;  and  iu  this  manner,  as  we  are  inclined  to  think,  what 
is  noAV  known  as  the  Samaritan  Penta!euch  was  k^pt  ifl  existence! 

The  critical  value  of  the  Samaritan  Pentateuch  has  been  settled 
by  the  masterly  essay  of  Gcsenius,  who  has  shown  that  it  is  of  very 
little  value  as  a  means  of  correcting  the  Hebrew.  This  we  should 
naturally  expect  from  the  above  view  of  its  history.  Preserved  in  a 
precarious  manner,  transmitted  through  a  period  of  great  religious 
ignorance  and  semi-iicathenism,  and  suiTOunded  by  temptations  to 
alteration  for  sectarian  purposes,  the  event  shows  that  it  has  sufiered 
greatly,  both  from  accidental  and  intentional  corruptions.  Nothing 
can  be  more  preposterous  tiian  the  attempt  to  set  it  on  a  level  with 
the  Hebrew  text  for  critical  uses.  This  would  probably  never  have 
been  done,  but  for  the  desire  of  corroborating  the  longer  patriarchal 
chi-onology  of  the  Septuagint  by  its  means.  We  have  not  room  to 
enter  upon  this  question  at  length ;  suffice  it  to  say,  that  those  very 


1853.]  Davidson's  Biblical  Criticism.  555 

dates  in  which  these  two  texts  are  thou,!^ht  to  be  more  consistent 
than  the  Hebrew,  are  instances  which  all  the  canons  of  just  criti- 
cism Avould  condemn  as  palpable  evidence  of  designed  alteration. 

The  Peahito,  or  old  Sjriac  version,  comes  next  in  point  of  im- 
portance. This  may  probably  be  assigned  to  the  second  century. 
It  affords  many  valuable  readings.  The  Arabic  and  Persic  versions 
are  of  less  antiquity  and  vakie.  The  proper  Samaritan  version 
was  made  from  the  Samaritan  text:  it  is  faithful,  but  shares  the 
faults  of  its  original.     Jts  date  is  uncertain. 

Before  the  time  of  Jerome,  various  old  Latin  translations,  probably 
of  detached  parts  of  Scripture,  had  been  made,  fragments  of  which,  in 
a  collected  form,  now  pass  under  tiic  general  name  of  the  Itala,  or  Italic 
version.  This  version  had  fallen  into  such  a  state  of  corruption,  from 
various  causes,  that  Jerome  undertook  the  task  of  revising  and  cor- 
recting it.  He  began  with  the  New  Testament.  His  revised  copy 
of  the  greater  part  of  the  Old  Testament  was  lost,  through  the  care- 
lessness or  treachery  of  a  friend  to  whose  care  it  was  intrusted. 
Undiscouraged  by  this  mishap,  he  resolutely  undertook  the  task  of 
producing  a  translation  of  tiie  Old  Testament  from  the  original 
Hebrew.  The  result  was  the  Vulgate,  which  has  been  adopted  as 
of  standard  authority  by  the  IJoinish  Church.  Jerome,  on  the 
whole,  was  tolerably  well  qualified  for  his  task;  but  his  almost  ex- 
clusive use  of  the  Masoretic  text,  and  his  continual  dependence  upon 
his  Jewish  teachers,  render  this  part  of  ids  version  little  available 
for  the  objects  of  the  critic.  His  work  Avas  also  too  hastily  per- 
formed, and  with  too  little  regard  to  tiie  modern  purposes  and  laws  of 
criticism.  Unfortunately,  a  habit  soon  prevailed  of  using  it  in  con-" 
nexion  with  the  older  Latin  version ;  and  co])yi3ts  generally  inter- 
mingled the  readings  of  both  in  the  most  promiscuous  and  capricious 
manner.  The  result  was,  that  the  ^'ulgate  itself  became  so  univer- 
sally corrupt,  that  it  was  impossible  to  discover  the  true  text  of 
Jerome.  Various  popes  attempted  to  restore  it,  and  several  editions 
were  published  with  the  pontifical  imprimatur;  but  this  only  in- 
creased the  difficulty.  The  editors  and  printers  made  worse  mis- 
takes than  the  copyists;  and  subsequent  popes  found  it  necessary  to 
revise  and  even  suppress  editions  published  by  their  predecessors, 
under  the  most  dreadful  anathemas  against  alteration!  Finally, 
Sixtus  v.,  after  exhausting  his  utmost  vigour  and  patience  in  vainly 
attempting  to  reduce  it  to  accuracy,  was  compelled  to  forbid  all  fur- 
ther critical  labours  upon  the  te.xt  of  the  Vulgate,  lest  its  authority 
should  be  entirely  imdermined.  His  successors,  however,  kept  up 
the  farce,  and  issued  other  editions  with  ef[nal  pretensions,  until  at 
leniith  this  iminacnlate  text  settled  into  something  like  a  received 


556  Davidson's  Biblical  Criticism.  [October, 

form,  but  Tvith  most  of  its  blunders  stereotyped  in  it,  with  the  absurd 
appendix  of  a  correctoriinti  of  errata !  Probably  there  has  never 
been  a  greater  burlesque  upon  typographical  correctness  and  eccle- 
siastical authority  than  this  same  vaunted  Vulgate.  Still  it  has  its 
value,  even  for  critical  purposes ;  but  it  is  exceedingly  necessary 
to  compare  various  editions  in  order  to  ascertain  Jerome's  own 
words. 

Under  the  head  of  Parallel  Passages  the  author  arranges  various 
repetitions  occurring  in  the  Old  Testament, — such  as  genealogical 
lists,  laws,  poems,  oracles,  sentences,  propositions,  and  proverbs 
occurring  twice, — with  regard  to  which  he  very  properly  thinks  that 
great  caution  is  requisite  not  to  meddle  with  what  is  right,  on  the 
mistaken  presumption  that  the  passages  were  originally  alike.  A 
similar  rule  is  good  with  regard  to  quotations  from  the  Old  Testa- 
ment in  the  JSew.  These  were  usually  cited  from  the  Septuagint, 
and  often  from  memory;  so  that  it  would  be  rash  to  make  many 
changes  in  view  of  them.  As  to  quotations  found  in  the  Talmud  and 
Rabbinical  writings,  little  use  can  be  made  of  them :  passages  are 
not  always  quoted  directly,  but  frequently  by  way  of  accommoda- 
tion. Even  this  is  generally  done  by  memory;  and  all  the  citations 
have  been  carefully  conformed  to  the  ]Masoretic  text,  either  by  the 
authors  originally,  or  by  subsequent  copyists. 

The  last  positive  or  objective  means  for  correcting  the  text,  that 
the  author  enumerates,  is  Ilebrew  manuscripts.  These  would  be 
entitled  to  the  first  rank  for  this  purpose  but  for  one  fact,  which  is 
a  very  important  one.  We  allude  to  the  labours  of  the  Masoritcs, 
which  have  reduced  all  extant  ^ISS.  of  the  Hebrew  Scriptures  to 
one  general  type.  The  Masoretic  system  derives  its  name  from  the 
Hebrew  JMassorah,  tradition, — a  term  assigned  to  those  critical 
investigations  which  had  their  germ  in  the  Talmud,  and  which,  after 
its  publication,  were  extensively  pursued  by  the  learned  Jews  of 
Palestine,  especially  at  Tiberias.  These  investigations  were  partly 
grammatical,  partly  exegotical,  and  partly  philological.  They  grew 
up  by  degrees  from  oral  communications  handed  down  from  the 
Kabbis  of  the  fust  centuries  of  our  era,  and  reduced  to  writing  in 
separate  dis.^ertations  about  the  sixth  century,  the  mass  of  miscel- 
laneous remarks  and  corrections  upon  the  text  being  epitomized,  Avith 
sundi-y  scattered  annotations,  about  the  eleventh  century.  This 
compendium,  in  an  abbreviated  form,  was  usually  written  in  the 
margin  of  the  MSS.;  but  with  so  little  care  and  system  in  the 
arrangement,  that  it  ^oon  produced  inextricable  confusion.  The 
text,  however,  was  generally  preserved  with  scrupulous  accuracy, 
free  from  interpolation  from  the  Massorah :  the  object  of  the  latter 


1853.]  Davidson's  Biblical  Criticism.  557 

was  only  to  point  out  to  tlic  reader  preferitble  readings.  From  this 
accouirt  it  ^'ill  appear  that  the  term,  Masorctic  recension  of  the  Hebrew 
text,  is  improper :  the  Masorites  did  not  alter  the  text ;  they  took  it 
as  it  was,  and  only  noted  corrections  and  suggestions  in  the  margin. 
Still,  the  effect  was  to  render  the  text  uniform  ;  and  hence,  after  their 
labours  we  find  little  or  no  variety  of  importance  in  the  Hebrew 
MSS.  The  copies  from  which  they  collected  their  corrections 
have  perished ;  and  we  are  therefore  left  to  judge  of  the  value  of  the 
various  readings  contained  in  the  Massorah  solely  from  the  estimate 
put  upon  them  by  these  liabbis.  This  estimate  itself  is  often  incon- 
sistent, sometimes  contradictory,  always  empirical;  the  result  there- 
fore is  with  us  exceedingly  loose  and  unsatisfactory.  Still,  for  our 
own  part,  we  are  disposed  to  feel  very  grateful  to  these  Masorites 
for  their  studious  labours  and  records.  They  have  stereotyped  the 
text,  it  is  true;  but  they  have  by  that  very  means  preserved  it  from 
arbitrary  and  accidental  changes  in  later  times.  We  see  no  reason 
to  doubt  the  generd  accuracy'  of  their  judgment  as  to  the  comparative 
value  of  various  readings,  nor  to  question  their  honesty  in  giving  us 
a  fair  account  of  them,  as  extant  in  their  own  day.  We  reg.ard  it 
as  very  fortunate,  nay,  providential,  that  these  men  have  collected 
and  recorded  facts,  which  would  probably  otherwise  never  have 
reached  us,  except  through  the  doubtful  channel  of  later  ]MSS. 
We  therefore  set  a  higher  value  upon  these  ]Masoretic  notes  than  the 
author.  As  to  the  hackneyed  charge  that  the  Masoretic  Jews  cor- 
rupted the  text,  we  like  the  author's  point-blank  denial,  (p.  69,)  and 
had  we  room,  we  would  quote  it  with  emphasis. 

Modern  Hebrew  MSS.  arc  accordingly  too  late  and  too  much  alike 
to  afford  very  much  aid  in  rectifying  old  errors.  The  work  before 
us  gives  a  detailed  account  of  several  of  the  most  important  of 
them. 

The  last  remaining  source  of  critical  emendation  is  conjecture. 
This  must  doubtless  be  used  with  extreme  caution;  but  it  is  un- 
reasonable to  shut  it  out  altogether.  In  vindication  of  it  the  author 
uses  the  following  strong  language  :— 

*'  What  shall  be  said  of  names,  numbers,  frcnealogies,  events,  recorded  so 
differently  that  one  or  other  statement  of  tlioni  must  be  incorrect  ?  Disguise 
the  fact  as  men  may,  the  received  Masoretic  text,  -which  is  exhibited  for 
the  most,  part  in  all  known  ^TSS  ,  makes  writers  assert  ditfereut  and  contra- 
dictory things  of  the  same  jierson  or  event.  There  are  not  a  few  such 
phenomena  in  the  books  of  tlie  Old  Testament,  whose  existence  was  ignored 
as  long  as  it  could  be,  or  which  were  explained  into  agreement  by  the  most 
arbitrary  modes  of  exposition.  But  the  light  of  modern  criticism  has  brought 
them  forth  to  the  full  day ;  and  there  they  stan<l  to  the  dismay  of  the  feeble 
pietist,  who  would  fain  shut  his  eyes  to  their  existence,  or  take  to  the  stale 
shifts  which  once  sufliccd  to  force  them  into  harmony." — P.  376. 


558  Davidson's  Biblical  Criticism.  [October, 

Suoli  cases,  vre  believe,  are  not  very  numerous,  yet  we  know  they 
exist;  and  we  cannot  see  how  a  cautious  conjecture  can  be  avoided 
in  their  solution.  Those  who  object  to  this,  as  an  admission  of 
fallibility  in  the  Scriptures,  mistake  our  view,  and  take  themselves 
an  untenable  position.  We  assume  that  the  Scriptures  were  oiigi- 
nally  consistent,  but  that  copyists  have  introduced  errors :  these  we 
seek  to  remove  by  the  best  means  within  our  power. 

From  the  foregoing  statements  it  will  appear,  that  the  materials 
for  Old  Testament  criticism,  on  the  whole,  are  meagre  and  uncertain. 
This  is  doubtless  the  true  reason  why  so  few  labourers  have  entered 
this  field,  and  why  there  is  not  now  a  good  critical  edition  of  the 
Hebrew  Scriptures.  Among  the  earl}-  fathers,  Origen  alone  seems 
to  have  had  a  correct  idea  of  the  task  to  be  performetl,  and  nobly 
did  he  address  himself  to  it;  but  his  great  critical  work  has  perish- 
ed, and  few  of  its  results  survived  his  own  age.  From  the  days  of 
the  Mosorites — who  we  think  have  really  done  more  in  this  depart- 
ment than  all  others — various  feeble  efforts  had  been  made  to  col- 
lect materials  for  such  a  work ;  but  it  was  not  till  Kennicott  and 
De  Rossi  published  their  Hebrew  Bibles  that  anything  like  a  critical 
apparatus  was  furnished  to  the  Old  Testament.  The  Bibles  of 
Bomberg  and  Buxtorff,  indeed,  were  valuable,  but  these  were  only 
digests  of  past  labours ;  they  added  no  new  readings,  they  brought 
the  results  of  no  fresh  collations.  Kennicott  was  the  first  to  do 
this,  and  even  he  had  access  to  comparatively  few  sources,  especially 
in  the  way  of  3ISS.  Nor  did  he  use  thoroughly  or  judiciously 
what  he  had ;  he  collated  but  partially,  and  leaned  so  excessively 
toward  the  Alexandrian  and  Samaritan  readings,  that  his  results 
#ire  of  little  reliance.  His  great  fault,  as  Dr.  Davidson  expresses  it, 
was  that  "he  was  not  a  masterly  critic;"  he  lacked  the  skill,  judg- 
ment, and  tact,  to  appreciate  and  apply  properly  the  resources  at  his 
command.  The  same  defects  apply  in  a  great  degree  to  De  Rossi's 
work:  neither  ho  nor  Kennicott  accomplished  what  was  needed 
for  the  Old  Testament.  Since  their  day  but  little  has  been  done,  and 
Old  Testament  criticism  remains  nearly  vdiere  they  left  it.  "We 
share  in  the  hearty  wish  of  our  author,  that  some  one  competent, 
skilled,  and  of  sufficient  leisure,  would  arise  to  do  the  work. 

The  volume  before  us  closes  with  an  application  of  the  above 
sources  of  criticism  to  the  emendation  of  several  of  the  most  ira- 
ptfrtant  passages.  This  mode  of  exemplifying  their  use,  the  author 
thinks  preferable  to  laying  down  cannns  or  specific  rules  for  the 
critic,  which  in  his  opinion  arc  useless  or  hurtful.  There  is  doubt- 
less much  truth  in  his  objection  to  such  canons,  that  each  case  of 
criticism  differs  in  so  many  points  from  others,  as  to  require  the 


1853.]  Davidson's  Biblical  Criticism.  559 

applicatiou  of  a  particular  jud-uicnt  rcspeeting  it;  yet  we  are  in- 
clined to  think  sucli  rules,  after  all,  may  have  their  value,  if  correctly 
dl'a^^^l  up  on  -eneral  principles,  and  employed  in  a  judicious  man- 
ner     The  same  arguments  that  are  used  to  show  the  inutility  ot 
such  laws   in  re-ard  to  criticism,  wouUi  prove  the  usclessnessof 
similar  ones  in  interpretation,  or  even  in  rhetoric  and  aesthetics. 
Canons  on  any  subject  are  not  so  much  intended  to  guide  the  expert 
as  the  novice ;'  thev  are  employed  rather  in  testing  than  in  constrtict- 
m^  a  system  of  "science.     ^Ve  cannot,  therefore,  think  that  they 
ou''-ht  to  be  dispensed  Anth  in  the  treatment  of  a  subject  so   lable  to 
caprice  and  error  as  Biblical  criticism.     Indeed,  the  author  himself, 
notwith-tandhi-  his  disclaimer,  has  felt  constrained  to  present  some 
"  hints  and  cauTions  on  the  subiect,  as  the  simplest  and  most  correct 
that  have  occurred  to  him."    W  ith  the  most  of  these  we  entirely  agi-ee; 
Tve  only  wish  that  they  had  been  made  more  copious  and  system- 
atic     There  is  one  of  them,  however,  usually  adopted,  wo  are  aware, 
as  a  sort  of  axiom  among  critics,  but  to  which  we  cannot  altogether 
subscribe ;  our  author  states  it  as  follows :  "  The  more  difficult  read- 
in-  is  generally  preferable  to  the  easier  one."     That  is,  we  suppose, 
on°the  around  that  a  copyist  would  be  more  likely  to  remove  a  gram- 
maticaf  or  exegetical  dltficulty  by  a  gloss,  than  to  introduce  one. 
This  may  be  true  so  far  as  intentional  alterations  are  concerned ; 
but  on  the  other  hand,  we  think  the  rule  does  not  sufficiently  pro- 
vide for  the  liability  to  accidental  errors  of  transcription,  by  which 
a  solecism  or  inconsistency  might  very  naturally  occur.     If  this  rule 
Tvere  to  be  adopted,  even  '=  generally,"  many  palpable  mistakes  wou  d 
be  incapable  of  restoration  to  the  author's  true  words.     Ihe  rule 
itself  as  a  rule,  strikes  us  as  too  paradoxical  and  unnatural:   in 
particular  cases  it  may,  doubtless,  hold  good;  but  we  think  modem 
critics  not  unfreriucntly  have  been  misled  by  it  into  readings  that 
are  repugnant  to  common  sense. 

In  the  second  volume,  the  author  treats  of  the  sources  of  I^ew 
Testament  criticism,  on  the  same  plan  as  in  the  former  volume  he  had 
treated  those  relating  to  the  Old.  It  is  prefaced  in  like  manner  with  a 
brief  view  of  the  peculiarities  of  the  diction,  and  a  copious  history  of 
the  state  of  the  text.  In  the  last,  he  shows  that  corruptions  extensively 
prevailed  as  early  as  A.  D.  127.  when  :\Iarcion  went  to  Rome  with  his 
edition  of  the  New  Testament  books ;  and  that  various  efforts  were 
made  by  the  early  fathers,  especially  by  Origcn,  for  their  restoration  to 
purity.  These "^cfforts,  however,  not  being  made  in  concert,  nor  on 
any  fixed  system,  availed  but  little  for  the  purpose.  The  ancient 
versions  of'thc  New  Testament  are:  (1.)  The  Peshito,  made  be- 


560  Davidsoii's  Biblical  Critcism.  [October, 

twecn  the  middle  of  the  second  and  the  middle  of  the  fom-th  cen- 
tury ;  it  is  pure  and  easy  in  its  language,  and  of  very  considerable 
value  to  the  critic.  (2.)  The  riiiloxenian,  or  later  Syriac,  made  in 
the  year  508,  under  the  direction  of  Mar  Xenayas,  Bishop  of  Mabug, 
in  Syria,  apparently  for  party  purposes.  It  was  revised  in  616  by 
Thomas  of  ilarclea,  in  Palestine.  It  is  more  literal  than  the  Peshito, 
and  therefore  more  useful  to  the  critic,  besides  containing  valuable 
various  readings  in  the  margin.  (3.)  A  Syriac  version  of  some  of 
the  Epistles,  and  the  Jerusalem  Syriac  version  of  the  Gospels ;  both 
of  later  date  and  less  value.  (4.)  Various  Ethiopic  and  Egyptian 
versions,  of  uncertain  age  and  doubtful  character.  (5.)  The  Arme- 
nian version,  made  about  A.  D.  431.  This  would  be  of  great  value, 
did  not,  as  the  author  summarily  expresses  it,  "  the  suspicious  cir- 
cumstances it  has  passed  through,  the  alterations  it  has  undergone, 
and  the  want  of  ancient  MSS.  of  its  text,  combine  to  show  that  it 
may  be  safely  dispensed  with  at  the  present  time."  (6.)  A  Georgian 
version,  supposed  to  have  been  made  in  the  sixth  century,  but  cor- 
rupt, and  abandoned  b}'  critics ;  also  two  Arabic  versions, — one 
made  from  the  Vulgate,  and  therefore  useless ;  the  other  not  old  or 
accurate  enough  to  be  of  any  value.  (7.)  The  Gothic  version,  made 
by  Ulphilas  in  the  fourth  century,  a  famous  specimen  of  which  is 
the  Codex  Argcntevs,  with  letters  painted  in  silver,  and  gilt  initials. 
It  is  faithful  and  skilful,  and  but  little  corrupted:  it  is  highly  valu- 
able. (S.)  The  Itahi,  and  Jerome's  improvement,  called  the  Vul- 
gate, have  been  noticed  previously ;  the  New  Testament  of  the  latter 
was  published  A.  D.  3^4 ;  it  is  best  preserved  in  the  Codex  Amia- 
tinus.  The  author  thus  sums  up  the  uses  of  versions :  "  It  is  high 
time  that  the  number  of  versions  applied  to  the  textual  criticism  of 

the  New  Testament   should   be   reduced There  are 

several  which  have  encumbered,  not  promoted,  the  science.  .  .  . 
Subtracting  these,  there  remain  the  Syriac,  Latin,  Egyptian,  Ethio- 
pic, and  Gothic." 

The  chief  means  of  emending  the  text  of  the  New  Testament 
consists  of  the  ancient  manuscripts  e.xtant  in  various  libraiies  and 
private  collections,  in  difTerent  countries.  They  are  most  con- 
veniently divided  into  two  classes :  the  vncial,  thought  to  be  the 
oldest,  Avritten  in  capitals,  and  usually  designated  by  letters,  A,  B, 
C,  &c.;  and  the  cursive,  in  small  letters,  designated  by  numerals, 
1,  2,  3,  <fcc.  The  theory  of  reccTisions,  or  distinct  types  of  MSS., 
resulting  from  systematic  editions  at  different  times,  as  proposed  by 
Semler,  and  extensively  applied  by  Griesbach,  has  now  been  shown 
to  be  groundless.  Manuscripts  do  indeed  admit  of  a  sort  of  general 
classification,  according  to  their  more  characteristic  readings  or  place 


1853.]  Davidson's  Biblical  Criticism.  561 

of  origin ;  but  this  appears  to  have  been  the  result  of  accident  rather 
than  design,  and  the  families  run  into  each  other  too  much  to  warrant 
any  dependence  upon  this  distinction.  The  author  devotes  t\yo 
chapters  to  the  enumeration  and  description  of  the  most  important 
MSS.  known  to  exist.  Several  of  the  uncial  are  believed  to  be 
as  old  as  the  fifth  century.  The  following  are  a  few  of  them: 
(A.)  Codex  Alexaudrinus,  now  in  the  British  Museum,  defective 
in  several  passages,  and  rather  carelessly  written;  it  prol^ably 
originated  in  Egypt  about  the  latter  part  of  the  fifth  century. 
(B.)  Codex  Yaticanus,  of  which  there  arc  two:  one  numbered  209, 
now  in  the  Vatican  Library,  deficient  in  the  latter  books  of  the  !New 
Testament,  (which  a  later  hand  has  supplied,)  carefully  written, 
probably  in  Egypt,  at  least  as  early  as  the  fifth  century ;  the  other, 
numbered  2,0GG,  also  in  the  A'atican,  and  apparently  belonging  to 
the  eighth  century.  (C.)  Codex  Ephraemi  Ilescriptus — so  called 
from  having  been  written  over  with  the  Avorks  of  Ephi-aem  the 
Syrian,  at  a  later  date — now  in  the  lloyal  Library  at  Paris;  it 
contains  fragments  of  the  Kew  Testament,  and  was  apparently 
written  in  Egypt  during  the  fifth  century.  (D.)  Codex  Bezce,  at 
Cambridge,  containing  the  Gospels  and  Acts,  assigned  to  Egypt  and 
the  sixth  century.  (D,  also.)  Codex  Cearomontanus,  at  Paris,  con- 
taining the  Pauline  Epistles,  and  probably  belonging  to  Egypt  and 
the  sixth  century.  The  other  uncial  codices  are  similarly  fragmen- 
tary, and  belong  in  general  to  the  eighth  and  ninth  centuries, — one 
or  tAvo  portions  perhaps  are  as  early  as  the  seventh,  and  a  few  as  late  as 
the  eleventh  century.  The  cursive  MSS.  are  quite  numerous,  but 
of  later  date.  The  various  readings  that  have  been  collected  out  of 
all  the  MSS.  amount  to  nearly  half  a  million ;  but  in  almost  all  cases 
they  do  not  perceptibly  affect  the  meaning  or  construction:  in  no 
instance  do  tlvpy  combine  to  add  or  remove  a  single  fact  or  doctrine. 
The  great  mass  of  them  contain  only  orthographical  or  grammatical 
peculiarities.  Still  they  are  sufiicient  to  prove  the  absence  of  collu- 
sion among  the  copyists ;  and  they  furnish  incontrovertible  evidence 
of  the  integi-ity  of  the  IS'^ew  Testament  records.  This  is  their  great 
value;  and  to  determine  this,  and  at  the  same  time  to  settle  the  true 
text,  is  an  object  well  worthy  the  immense  research  requisite. 

Besides  MSS.,  we  have  a  great  number  of  quotations  from  the 
New  Testament,  in  the  wi-ltings  of  the  early  Christian  fiithers,  which 
all  go  to  evince  the  true  reading  in  their  times,  and  afford  assist- 
ance in  cases  of  uncertainty.  Vic  have  also  the  force  of  intenial 
evidence,  and  the  opportunity  for  critical  conjecture;  both  which 
should  bo  used  with  extreme  caution  and  a  well-informed  iud;rment 
m  emending  the  text. 


562  DaviclsoTi's  Biblical  Cnticism.  [October, 

Before  proceeding  to  discuss  the  critical  editions  of  the  New 
Testament,  a  few  words  arc  proper  as  to  the  liistory  of  the  present 
received  text.  The  first  printed  edition  of  the  Greek  Testament 
was  that  contained  in  the  Complutensian  Poljglott,  completed  at  the 
expense  of  Cardinal  Ximenes,  in  the  year  1514,  but  not  published 
until  the  Pope's  sanction  was  obtained  in  15'22.  The  }dSS.  em- 
ployed for  this  purpose,  notwithstanding  the  boast  of  the  editor, 
Lave  been  shown  to  be  modern,  and  of  little  critical  value.  Mean- 
while, before  this  edition  appeared,  Erasmus  published  at  Basel,  in 
151G,  his  first  Greek  'J'estament,  with  a  pompous  title;  but,  as  it 
now  appears,  with  no  greater  critical  basis  than  the  Complutensian. 
He  also  published  other  editions,  with  various  changes,  in  1519, 
1522,  1527,  and  1520;  but  none  from  any  older  MSS.  than  before. 
The  Complutensian  and  Erasmean  texts  were  the  basis  of  all  sub- 
sequent editions.  Kobert  Stevens  rcpubhshed  sometimes  one,  some- 
times the  other,  witli  very  little  improvement ;  other  editors  and 
publishers  did  the  same.  Between  1565  and  159S,  however,  Theo- 
dore Bcza  published  four  editions,  based  upon  Stevens's,  but  with 
numerous  emendations  from  the  Clermont  and  Cambridge  codices, 
(B  and  D,)  and  corrections  furnished  by  a  son  of  Stevens.  The 
text  of  Beza  is  substanfialhj  that  from  which  the  English  version 
was  made.  Tiie  printers  El/X'vir,  of  Leyden,  published  their  first 
edition  in  1024,  closely  following  the  text  of  Stevens's  third  edition. 
Their  second  edition,  jniblished  in  1033, 12mo.,  is  that  usually  known 
as  the  received  Greek  text.  It  was  a  gi-eat  improvement  up'on  their 
first,  by  being  to  some  extent  collated  with  Beza" s;  it  is  the  best  of 
all  the  Elzevir  editions.  Its  editor  is  unknown.  "Few  modern 
editions,  however,"  says  Tregelles,  "  that  profess  to  give  the  textus 
receptvs,  really  follow  throughout  the  Elzevir  text;  in  places  in 
which  the  latter  diflers  from  the  Stephanie,  they  sometimes  follow  the 
latter,  and  sometimes  they  differ  from  both."  We  have  ourselves  often 
been  annoyed  by  this  inaccuracy,  which  the  scarcity  of  the  genuine 
edition  of  1033  renders  the  more  perplexing  to  students.  The  above 
history  of  the  received  text,  Griesbach  thus  sums  up  in  a  paragraph, 
which  we  translate  for  the  convenience  of  the  reader :  "  Later  editions 
follow  the  Elzevir:  this  was  compiled  from  the  editions  of  Beza 
and  Stevens's  third ;  jicza's  was  a  reprint  of  the  third  edition  of 
Stevens,  with  merely  a  few  capricious  changes  not  based  on  adequate 
authority;  Stevens's  third  edition  closely  follows  the  fifth  of  Eras- 
mus, with  the  excejition  of  a  few  passages  only  in  the  Apocalypse, 

where  it  adopts  the  Complutensian;  and  Erasmus  formed  his  text 

as   best  he   could— out    of  a   very  few  quite   late   IMSS.,  in  the 
absence  of  all  critical  helps,  beyond  the  interpolated  Vulgate  and  a 


.1853.]  Davidson's  Biblical  Criticism.  563 

few  inaccurately  edited  works  of  the  fathers."  This  judgment,  which 
the  author  quotes  with  approbation,  we  think  too  severe;  the  history 
may  be  as  stated,  but  the  colour  and  inferences  throw  the  received 
text  into  too  unfavourable  a  light.  It  cannot  be  denied  that  in  the 
process  of  its  construction  a  considerable  number  of  ^ISS.  were  more 
or  less  collated— some  of  them  of  great  value— and  a  good  deal  of 
pains  bestowed  by  several  scholars  in  the  task,  especially  by  Beza ; 
accordingly,  criticism  on  the  whole  has  since  confirmed  its  readings 
in  all  essential  points,  but  of  course  with  many  minute  corrections. 
We  think  critical  editors  would  still  do  well  to  treat  it  with  some 
degree  of  deference. 

The  modern  history  of  New  Testament  criticism  may  be  said  to 
begin  with  the  publication  (at  O.xford)  of  the  laborious  researches 
of  Dr.  John  Mill,  in  his  New  Testament  of  1707.  Before  him, 
Bryan  Walton  had  publi.-,hed  a  rich  collection  of  materials  in  the 
London  Polyglott ;  but  Mill's  was  the  first  proper  critical  edition, — 
as  such  it  deserves  great  praise,  which  "its  painful  accuracy  in 
regard  to  trifles  "  should  not  be  suffered  to  outweigh.  Mill,  how- 
ever, did  not  attempt  to  apphj  these  materials  to  the  emendation  of 
the  text;  this  Bengel  was  the  first  to  do,  with  some  few  additions, 
in  his  edition  of  1734.  Wetstcin  came  next,  with  an  edition  in 
1751-2,  containing  the  fruits  of  untiring  labour  for  thirty  years. 
His  work,  although  liable  to  much  criticism,  greatly  advanced  the 
department  of  Biblical  science,  and  is  still  veiy  valuable  for  philo- 
logical purposes. 

All  preceding  attemj)t3  at  the  revision  of  the  Greek  text,  how- 
ever, were  thrown  completely  into  the  shade  by  the  labours  of  Dr. 
John  James  Grif.sbach,  a  name  that  will  ever  stand  conspicuous 
in  the  list  of  Biblical  critics.  His  first  edition  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment was  published  at  Halle,  in  portions,  from  1774  to  1777;  and 
contained  a  digest  of  all  previoiis  various  readings,  with  an  extensive 
collection  of  new  ones,  accurately  noted  and  conveniently  arran<:ed, 
with  a  view  to  the  restoration  of  the  text,  which  was  altered  accord- 
ingly. Between  this  time  and  170*;,  ^vhen  the  first  volume  of  his 
second  edition  appeared,  materials  liail  been  collected  and  published 
by  Matthai  and  Birch, — all  which,  with  many  new  fruits  of  his  studies 
meanwhile,  Avere  incorporated  in  this  new  work,  on  the  same  plan  as 
the  other.  A  third  edition  was  undertaken  by  Schulz,  containing 
the  results  of  later  researches,  of  which  the  first  volume,  consisting 
of  the  Gospels,  was  published  in  lbii7;  the  remainder  of  the  New 
Testament  did  not  appear.  The  great  merit  of  Griesbach  lay.  not 
so  much  in  his  amount  of  learned  research,  as  in  his  tact  and  jud'?- 
ment  in  using  the  materials  within  his  reach.     In  this  respect  he 


564  Davidson's  Biblical  Criticism.  [October, 

has  never  had  an  equal ;  and  it  was  the  possession  of  these  most 
essential  qualities  that  constituted  him  a  consummate  critic.  Later 
labourers  have  greatly  enlarged  the  area  of  examination,  and  of 
course  increased  the  foundation  of  a  critical  judgment ;  but  in  our 
opinion,  no  critical  editor  has  ever  shown  so  accurate  an  apprecia- 
tion of  the  value  of  critical  authorities,  nor  so  great  skill  in  applying 
them,  as  Griesbach.  Nor  "\vei-e  his  researches  very  limited,  nor  his 
amount  of  authorities  so  meagre  as  to  affect  materially  his  judgment; 
he  had  all  the  main  sources  of  criticism  at  his  command,  and  he 
used  with  remarkable  fidelity  and  diligence  whatever  had  been 
collected  from  them.  Especially  was  he  free  from  those  prejudices 
for  a  particular  class  of  readings  which  has  misled  most  critics. 
An  example  of  this  may  be  seen  in  his  views  of  the  recensions ;  he 
was  so  careful  and  judicious  in  the  application  of  this  system,  that 
although  the  theory  has  been  exploded,  in  the  fonn  in  which  he  em- 
braced it,  yet  his  opinion  of  individual  autliorities  is  not  particularly 
affected  with  the  later  critic;  and  his  classification  of  codices  is,  after 
all,  found  to  be  too  convenient  to  be  entirely  abandoned  in  its  general 
features.  It  is  because  he  neither  leans  unduly  toward  the  uncial 
MSS.  nor  the  cursive,  toward  the  Alexandrine  nor  the  Constantino- 
politan  readings,  toward  the  harsher  nor  the  more  elegant  forms, 
that  he  has  won  the  confidence  of  the  mass  of  students  of  criticism ; 
and  for  these  reasons  we  think  no  subsequent  critical  editor  has 
been  able  to  supersede  him,  nor  even  approach  his  high  position. 
His  opinion  cast  on  the  side  of  a  reading  continues  to  give  it  a 
weight  which  overbalances  the  critical  dictum  of  more  than  one 
later  editor.  Yet  his  conclusions  are  not  always  correct;  his 
materials  were  frequently  defective,  and  his  readings  consequently 
erroneous :  in  such  cases,  he  would  himself  have  been  the  fii-st  to 
alter  his  opinion,  as  he  not  unfrequently  did  in  his  several  editions. 
Occasionally,  also,  ho  apj)ear5  to  have  argued  inconclusively,  and  then 
we  do  not  hesitate  to  depart  from  him. 

The  next  great  critical  work  on  the  New  Testament  was  the  edi- 
tion of  Dr.  Scholz,  the  first  volume  of  which  appeared  at  Leipzig,  in 
1830,  and  the  second  in  1^30.  He  made  the  most  extensive  travels 
in  preparation  for  it ;  and  it  was  a  work  of  immense  labour  and  re- 
search. Nevertheless,  it  disappointed  the  critical  world,  and  has 
generally  been  regarded  as  a  failure.  The  materials  he  gathered 
are  largo,  fresh,  and  valuable — this  is  his  great  merit;  but  they 
were  inaccurately  noted  and  badly  applied — these  are  his  great 
faults.  His  design  and  mode  of  procedure  were  correct  enough, 
but  he  lacked  the  judgment  to  carry  them  out  satisfactorily.  Hence 
his  text  was  never  extensively  adopted. 


1853.]  DavidsorCs  Biblical  Criticism.  665 

In  1831  Lachmann  published  a  small  critical  New  Testament  at 
Berlin;  and  in  18-12-50  a  larger  one,  with  critical  authorities  added 
by  Buttmann.  Both  these  soon  acquired  extensive  authority  in 
Germany.  The  emendation  of  the  text  proceeds  upon  peculiar 
ground  :  the  plan  was  to  follow  the  authority  of  MSS.  exclusively; 
but  in  doing  so  the  editor  selected  only  certain  MSS.  for  his  guide, 
deeming  them  the  most  reliable.  His  object  therefore,  as  he  himp 
self  admits,  was  not  to  furnish  a  general  critical  view  of  various 
readings,  but  to  confine  himself  to  a  particular  class,  namely,  those 
regarded  as  the  best  historically  attested  ones  of  the  first  four 
centuries.  This  plan  has  a  certain  distinctness  about  it  which  is 
very  attractive  and  plausible  ;  but  it  has  also  great  defects,  for  which 
on  the  whole  we  should  repudiate  it.  It  is  by  no  means  certain 
that  our  present  oldest  copies  contain  all  the  oldest  readings;  later 
MSS.  may  have  come  through  purer  channels,  and  be  really  better 
authorities.  Again;  it  unfortunately  happens,  that  all  the  oldest 
codices  extant  are  of  the  Egyptian  family,  and  therefore  afford  only 
one  class  of  readings.  For  instance  we  must,  if  wc  follow  these, 
adopt  the  readings  ATju-tperai,  el-av,  v  appendedbefore  a  consonant,  &c., 
which  Lachmann  actually  docs ;  whereas  these  are  evidently  mere  pe- 
cularities  of  the  Alexandrine  dialect,  which  could  never  have  prevailed 
elsewhere,  nor  probobly  with  the  inspired  writers.  jNIoreover,  Lach- 
mann does  not  always  adhere  to  his  own  rules;  and  this  further 
betrays  either  their  inadequacy  or  his. 

The  last  critical  edition  that  has  appeared  is  that  of  Tischendorf, 
which  has  been  published  in  several  editions  at  Leipzig  and  Paris. 
The  best  is  the  second  Leipzig  edition  of  1S49.  This  edition  pro- 
ceeds upon  the  same  principles  essentially  as  Lachmann ;  he  there- 
fore in  the  main  approves  the  same  readings ;  but  he  has  more  strictly 
and  faithfully  applied  his  principles,  and  he  has  also  given  a  more 
extensive  view  of  various  rcading.s  in  all  the  critical  authorities.  In 
collecting  these  he  has  evinced  great  diligence  and  accuracy.  Hia 
book  is  by  far  the  most  convenient  critical  edition  that  has  ever  ap- 
peared ;  it  is  at  once  cheap,  portable,  reliable,  and  sufficiently  com- 
plete. The  same  objections,  however,  lie  against  its  text  as  against 
that  of  Lachmann.  It  also  betrays,  if  we  mistake  not,  the  influence 
of  rationalistic  prejudices,  in  the  rash  excision  of  such  passages  as 
John  V,  4.  The  form  of  tvpe,  punctuation,  and  mode  of  abbrevia- 
ting the  critical  authorities  arc  peculiar.  Wc  doubt  whether  it  will 
hold  a  permanent  place  as  a  critical  manual. 

On  the  whole,  therefore,  it  is  evident  that  the  desideratum  has  not 
yet  been  obtained  in  New  Testament  criticism.  The  whole  ground  of 
authority  has  not  been  thoroughly  explored,  neither  have  the  results 


566  Davidsoji's  Biblical  Criticism.  [October, 

so  far  collected  been  adequately  expressed  nor  justly  applied. 
Another  Griesbach  is  needed  to  do  this.  Whoever  undertakes  the 
task,  must  brhis^  to  it  profound  learning,  un'vs-earied  patience,  strict 
integrity,  and  large  experience.  Above  all,  he  must  possess  a  fine 
critical  judgment;  that  sort  of  instinct  that  intuitively  seizes  upon 
the  main  points  of  evidence,  and  M'eighs  them  v.-ith  unerring  skill. 
No  diligence  nor  acquironents  can  compensate  for  the  ^Yant  of  this 
native  tact.  This  is  true  to  some  extent  in  any  study,  but  especially 
in  those  of  an  a^sthetical  nature;  most  of  all  is  it  true  in  Biblical 
criticism,  in  which  nearly  all  the  practical  conclusions  arc  based  upon 
a  balance  of  probabilities,  or  internal  evidence.  The  difiereut  quali- 
ties above  enumerated  are  thought  by  Dr.  Davidson  to  be  incom- 
patible with  each  other,  or  at  least  hardly  to  be  expected  in  a  single 
person  ;  but  they  may  certainly  coexist  in  some  degree,  and  if  the  critic 
have  only  the  proper  acumen,  he  may  supply  the  other  qualities  by 
exorcise,  or  avail  himself  of  them  in  others.  That  the  work  vrill  be 
ere  long  performed  by  some  one,  we  have  every  reason  to  believe : 
critics  are  labouring  hanl  in  various  countries  to  bring  together  the 
materials,  and  they  will  not  leave  them  miused.  The  prospectus  of 
a  new  edition  of  the  Xcw  Testament,  with  extensive  critical  ap- 
paratus, has  lately  been  issued  by  Dr.  S.  P.  Tregelles,  for  which  he 
has  made  largo  preparations :  that  it  Avill  be  a  very  valuable  contri- 
bution we  cannot  doubt ;  but  whether  it  will  meet  the  want  entirely, 
remains  to  be  seen.  The  editor's  competency  we  cannot  doubt ;  but, 
from  certain  indications,  we  suspect  he  will  incline  to  the  plan  of 
Lachraaiui  and  Tischendorf.  Dr.  Davidson  thus  speaks  of  the 
forthcoming  work :  "  Wc  look  for  the  completion  of  his  great  under- 
taking with  solicitude,  hope,  and  high  expectations ;  knowing  that  he 
unites  in  himself  most  of  the  qualities  which  will  insure  a  critical 
edition  worthy  of  comparison  with  any  of  the  continental  ones. 
We  believe  that  his  accuracy  in  making  collations,  and  faithfully 
recording  them,  is  superior  to  that  evinced  by  any  of  the  gi'eat 
editors — !Mill,  Wetstein,  Griesbach,  Lachmann,  or  Tischendorf."  If 
his  critical  judgment  and  sagacity  are  equal,  the  result  must  be 
highly  satisfactory  to  the  critical  public. 

The  two  volumes  now  before  us  are  calculated  to  give  a  healthful 
impetus  to  critical  studies,  and  to  furnish  the  student  with  im- 
portant hints,  as  well  as  valuable  information  on  the  subject.  So 
well- digested  and  full  a  treatise  cannot  elsewhere  be  found.  Wc 
especially  admire  the  liberal  spirit  and  scholarly  tone  of  the  work. 
We  arc  loth  to  say  anything  disparaging  of  a  work  which,  on  the 
whole,  Avc  sj  heartily  welcome;    but  there  are  a  few  points  on 


1853.]  Davidson's  Biblical  Criticism.  567 

"which  we  must  remark.  In  the  first  place,  then,  the  title  strikes 
us  as  rather  ambitious,  if  not  inappropriate.  From  the  fore- 
goinfi;  summary,  the  work  will  be  seen  to  be  rather  an  historical 
account  of  the  sources  of  I'iblical  criticism,  than  "a  systematic 
\iew  of  that  scieuce."  By  such  a  title  we  should  have  understood 
a  more  abstract  presentation  of  the  principles  of  criticism,  and  less 
of  the  outward  helps  and  ajipliances  to  it.  The  work,  however,  may 
not  be  the  less  useful  for  this.  The  title  may  have  had  its  reason 
in  the  author's  wish  to  distin;:^uish  it  from  that  of  his  "  Lectures  on 
Biblical  Criticism,"  of  which  this  is  an  enlargement. 

But  the  most  serious  defects  of  the  work  lie  in  its  style  and 
manner.  Dr.  Davidson's  habitual  proli.xity  renders  his  books  tedious 
and  difficult  of  perusal.  The  topics  may  be  appropriate,  but,  like  the 
Germans,  he  cannot  leave  tliera  without  exhausting  them.  All  that  he 
says  is  good  matter,  and  pcrliaps  to  the  point,  but  it  is  too  full  of  detail 
to  sustain  the  interest  of  the  reader.  This  is  a  fault  in  all  the  author's 
works  that  we  have  seen.  There  is  sometimes  as  much  skill  in  know- 
ing what  7iot  to  say,  as  in  knowing  ivJiat  to  say.  As  a  result  of 
this  expansion,  the  author  often  shows  a  sort  of  indecision  in  his 
opinion,  in  consequence  of  having  discussed  opposite  views,  and 
pui'sued  the  conflicting  arguments  to  such  length,  that  both  he  and 
the  reader  are  left  in  the  fog  as  to  the  true  merits  of  the  case.  'No 
doubt  his  candour,  and  desire  to  present  the  subject  fairly,  have  led 
him  into  this;  but  his  usually  good  judgment  does  not  always  avail 
to  extricate  him  from  the  labyrinth.  A  little  positiveness  is  a  good 
stifiener  to  the  mind  in  passing  through  "  doubtful  disputations." 

What  contributes  to  this  diffuseness  is  a  peculiar  mode  of  con- 
struction in  the  sentences.  Tlie  ideas  arc  expanded  in  a  series  of 
short  clauses,  each  nearly  repeating  the  meaning  of  the  preceding, 
and  broken  into  disconnected  sentences  by  full  stops.  The  whole 
book  is  thus  jerked  into  fragments,  in  a  way  very  unpleasant  to 
the  reader.  We  take  an  instance,  almost  at  random,  from  vol.  i, 
p.  374 :— 

"  If  theological  conjecture  were  a'loptcd  It  Avoiild  soon  open  the  door  to  cor- 
ruption. Unscrupulous  partisans  would  speedily  introduce  many  clianges  into 
the  Bible.  They  would  pvo  a  bias  to  jijacts,  more  or  lcs.s  marked  in  favour 
of  their  own  creed.  The  iiunilK-r  of  passaL'fs  sumiosed  to  need  emendation 
■would  be  increased.  Many  parts  of  the  Bible  would  be  suspected.  The  book 
wouhl  become  an  uncertain  rule  of  faitli.  It  would  not  be  appealed  to  as  a 
standard  capable  of  settlinfr  all  di.-putes  in  thcolo^jy.  livery  one  might  then 
believe  or  disbelieve  as  best  suited  hi-  own  principles.  The  pn-judices  of  party 
or  sect  would  inlluencc  the  treatment  of  the  sacred  records.  According  to 
the  com])le.\.ion  of  creed  would  be  the  character  of  the  changes  proposed." 

Here  the  same  idea  substantially  is  draAvn  out  in  ten  successive 
sentences  in  the  space  of  twelve  lines.     The  whole  might  have  been 


568  The  Origin  of  Evil.  [October, 

expressed  by  simply  adding  to  the  first  sentence  the  follo-sving 
clause, — "  for  unscrupulous  partisans ;  'svho  would  alter  the  Bible  at 
pleasure  according  to  their  creed,  until  it  •would  become  useless  as  a 
general  rule  of  faith." 

As  a  ■whole,  the  style  and  general  literary  execution  of  this  -work 
is  inferior  to  that  of  the  author's  recent  "  Introduction  to  the  New 
Testament."  Yet  it  is  a  book  of  so  much  merit,  and  of  so  great 
value  to  the  Church,  that  minor  blemishes  are  trifling.  We  join 
heartily  in  the  author  s  prayer  that  the  book  "  may  help  the  cause 
of  truth  in  the  world,  promote  the  progress  of  righteousness,  and 
contribute  to  a  better  acquaintance  Avith  those  divine  writings  which 
form  the  basis  alike  of  social  order  and  of  personal  happiness."  AVe 
are  inclined  to  think  there  would  be  demand  enough  for  the  work  in 
this  country  to  justify  the  publication  of  an  Anierican  edition. 


akt.  v.— the  origin  of  evil  and  the  fall. 

[From  the  Gcmiun  of  Ri>-CK,  in  Theol.  Stud.  u.  Krit.] 

The  difficulty  of  e.vplaining  the  origin  of  evil  from  the  pure  creation, 
as  it  proceeds  from  the  hand  of  God,  leads  to  many  untenable  asser- 
tions. Thomas  Aquinas,  Beza,  Leibnitz,  Schleiermacher,  Hegel 
and  Rothe,  by  presupposing  evil  as  fundamental,  and  its  development 
as  necessary,  only  avoid  the  difllcult  explanation  of  its  origin,  and  in. 
a  greater  or  less  degree  attach  blame  to  the  Creator  of  the  human 
race.  It  is  as  if  an  individual,  to  avoid  deducing  the  finite  from 
the  infinite,  should  resort  to  the  hypothesis  of  an  eternal  creation, 
by  which  the  subject  is  rather  obscured  than  explained. 

Leibnitz  assumes  a  metaphy«^ical  imperfection  of  the  creation  as 
the  source  of  evil.  According  to  Hegel,  sin  is  a  speculative,  logical 
(intelligible)  necessity,  because  without  it  the  good  could  not 
realize  itself:  good  had  need  of  evil  as  a  spur  to  its  progressive 
movement.  He  regards  sin  as  included  in  the  very  conception 
of  humanity.  Dr.  Ptothe  (Ethik,  vol.  ii,  p.  ISO)  places  the 
essence  of  sin  not  merely  in  self-seeking,  but  also  and  mainly  in 
the  necessity  of  matter.  The  passage  through  sin,  in  his  opinion,  is 
a  metaphysical  necessity.  He  conceives  of  our  first  parents  not  as 
mature  at  their  creation,  but  destined  to  spiritual  development; 
consequently  their  material  part,  in  the  absence  of  training,  must 
gain  the  upper  hand;  and  imperceptibly,  and  without  blame,  they 
found  themselves,  by  their  development,  in  sin.     Hence  evil  lies 


1853.]  The  Origin  of  Evil.  569 

in  the  divine  world- plan,  not  merely  as  something  permitted, — it 
lies  unavoidably  in  the  creature,  on  account  of  his  origin, — in  the 
fact  of  his  corning  into  existence  in  contradistinction  from  God: 
but  as  creature-evil  has  been  ordained  in  the  plan  of  the  world,  so 
also  has  its  destruction,  as  it  may  come  to  light,  llothe  (p.  204) 
openly  declares  that  the  "  eft'ort  to  separate  evil  from  all  connexion 
with  the  divine  causality  must  ever  remain  an  idle  undertaking;"  al- 
though even  he  himself,  in  a  measure  startled  at  this  result,  imagines 
himself  to  hold  the  causation  of  human  sin  entirely  apart  from  God.  . 
He  says  :  "  The  divine  production  of  evil  is  at  the  same  time  its  ab- 
solute destruction.  Within  the  sphere  of  redemption  tlie  necessity 
of  sinning  is  not  entirely  removed,  but  is  conceived  of  as  constantly 
vanishing." 

According  to  Dr.  Julius  Miiller,  (Lehre  Von  der  Siinde,)  on  the 
contrary,  sin  does  not  lie  in  the  divine  order  of  the  world,  but  arises 
through  man  himself, — tliruugh  his  self-determination,  and  is  not 
necessary,  but  evituble.  Because  he  finds  himself  unable  to  fix  in 
time  the  point  at  which  evil  begins, — unable  to  prove  and  compre- 
hend it,  he  assumes  a  self-determination  of  the  transcendental  free- 
dom before  our  individual  existence, — a  spiritual  original  evil:  sin 
arose  when  the  embryos  of  personal  being  yet  lay,  as  it  were,  in  the 
womb.  Since  no  one  knows  anything  of  this  original  state,  we  may 
imagine  many  things  therein,  avIiosc  entrance  into  the  sphere  of 
reality  wo  are  not  able  to  explain;  but  it  is  always  perilous  to 
imagine  such  a  condition  of  our  race  merely  for  the  purpose  of 
solving  a  riddle, — esjiecially  such  an  ideal  condition  in  which  there 
must  have  been  still  less  incitement  to  evil  than  in  the  material 
existence. 

The  Mosaic  record,  in  its  ancient  simplicity,  and  in  agreement 
with  our  knowledge  of  God  and  of  ourselves,  appears  to  explain 
the  difficult  question  of  the  origin  of  evil  much  better  than  our 
philosophers  and  thcosophists,  with  tl\eir  dialectical  wisdom.  The 
question  whether  the  liiblo  account  of  the  fall  should  be  taken  lite- 
rally or  figuratively  does  not  concern  our  argument ;  for  should  it  be 
taken  literally,  there  lies  in  the  representation  in  the  shell  less  than 
in  the  kernel;  and  this  kernel  is  in  any  case  a  concealed  meaning, 
which  is  to  explain  the  origin  of  sin,  and  on  which  alone  it  de- 
pends. 

God  caused  the  tree  of  life  and  the  tree  of  knowledge  of  good  and 
evil  to  grow  up  in  tlie  midst  of  the  garden,  and  connnanded  man: 
"  Of  the  tree  of  knowledge  of  good  and  evil  thou  shalt  not  eat;  for 
in  the  day  thou  eatcst  thereof  thou  shalt  surely  die."*  This  tree 
of  knowledge,  as  planted  by  God,  is  not  yet  evil,  but  contains  in 

FouRTU  JSeuies,  Vol.  V.— 36 


570  The  Origin  of  Evil.  [October, 

itself  the  dioice  between  good  and  evil,— the  innate  possibility  of  sin- 
ning, Avhich  possibility  is  bound  up  ^vith  the  very  conception  of 
a  free  being,  whose  liberty  is  not  the  divine  necessity,  but  lies  out- 
side of  it.     It  is  a  tree  of  divine  commands  and  prohibitions, — ob- 
jectively conceived,  the  object  of  knowledge ;  or,  subjectively,  the 
possibility  of  transgressing  the  command,  the  object  of  free  choice. 
Alongside  of  this  stands  the  tree  of  life ;   and  both  are  united  to 
prove  that  the  mere  possibility  of  evil,  which  is  involved  in  the 
creation  of  man,  is  not  yet  anything  evil  or  death-bringing.     Only 
with  the  realization  of  the  possibility  does  opposition  to  the  tree 
of  life  arise;  i.  e.,  the  true  life  is  forfeited,  and  death,  curse,  and 
destruction  appear  in  its  place.     The  tree  of  Hfe  which  the  living 
God  had  planted  fur  man,  and  his  expressed  will  not  to  eat  of  the 
tree  of  knowledge,  presu[ipose  the  possibility  of  not  transgressing: 
because  God  could  neither  require  anything  impossible  of  man,  nor 
involve  him  inextricably  in  the  meshes  of  a  scheme  which  would 
certainly  exclude  him  from  the  tree  of  life.     The  origin  of  evil  from 
absolute  good  must  forever  remain  inconceivable;   not  so  with 
relative  good.     If  we  hold  fast  to  this  difference,  the  objection  of 
Rothe  will  not  hold :  "  The  religious-moral  perfection  of  the  fh-st 
parents  of  our  race  would  exclude  all  psychological  possibility  of 
the  fall."     But  this  possibility  is  explained  by  the  creation  of  man, 
who,  as  it  were,  stands  out  of  God ;  not  holy  and  perfect  like  God, 
and  yet  not  a  mere  creature  like  the  beast :  he  is  not  under  and  in 
the  law  of  necessity,  but  possesses  the  likeness  of  God  and  freedom. 
The  perfection  of  a  creatm-e  is  not  divine,  not  absolute.     The  want 
of  such  perfection  in  a  creature  casts  no  shadow  upon  the  Creator : 
if  it  did,  we  should  be  compelled  to  blame  him  for  becomino-  a 
Creator.'    According  to  the  doctrines  of  emanation  and  pantheism, 
which  mix  God  and  the  world,  the  fall  cannot  be  explained;  but 
only  according  to  the  doctrines  of  God  and  of  the  creation.     When, 
then,  by  the  creation,  God  set  free  beings  out  of  himself,  then 
the  possible  dejiarture  from  God  was  given,   and  the  question, 
—Wherefore   did   not   God  hinder  the  evil  that  he   foresaw?   is 
entirely  inadmissible.     God  does  not  prevent  evil,  because  by  so 
doing,  contrary  to  liis  own  will,  he  would  injure  and  destroy  the 
province  of  freedom  (the  divine  image.)     Thus,  our  Saviour  did  not 
hinder  the  murderous  blows  of  his  enemies,  while  at  the  same  time 
he  did  not  will  or  excuse  them.     In  like  manner,  God  was  Lord 
over  the  parents  of  our  race,  and  over  the  serpent :  but  if  he  by  his 
own  will  restrained  his  highest  power,  and  left  free  play-room  to  free 
created  beings,  and  still  retains  the  government,  he  is  not  therefore 
destitute  of  power,  but  only  consistent,  and  worthy  to  be  adored. 


1853.]  The  Origin  of  Evil  571 

Dare  the  creature  be  so  bold  as  to  ask  the  Creator :  ^Vherefore  hast 
thou  placed  the  tree  of  kno^vlcdge  in  the  midst  of  Paradise,  by  the 
side  of  the  tree  of  life, — therefore  hast  thou  given  me  the  liberty, 
whose  abuse  thou  foresawest?  Shall  the  work  speak  to  the  master, 
and  say,  why  hast  thou  made  me  thus?  Man  should  rather  com- 
plain of  himself,  but  give  thanks  to  God  that  he  has  endowed  him 
with  such  prerogatives,  and  glorify  him  with  soul  and  body,  which 
are  God's.  There  was  no  necessity  at  all  to  sin;  that  complaint 
can  only  be  established  on  the  ground  that,  as  Rothe  teaches,  evil  in- 
evilahbj  developed  itself  ]Jcsidc3,  from  the  beginning  of  the  world 
God  had  provided  for  the  human  race,  Avhose  foil  he  foresaw,  the 
most  perfect  means  of  grace  and  gifts,  in  order  to  make  that  injury 
abundantly  good,  and  to  lead  back  the  fallen  ones  to  himself  and  his 
kingdom.  Indeed,  as  all  evil,  so  also  must  the  sin  of  our  first 
parents  redound  to  the  praise  of  the  merciful  God  j  because  by  it 
was  conditioned  the  mission  of  the  second  Adam  as  the  Redeemer 
of  the  world.  Now  is  he  that  is  least  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven 
gi-eater  than  the  greatest  born  of  woman  :  for  it  is  not  with  the  gift 
as  with  the  sin.  (Rom.  v,  12-15.)  Let  it  therefore  be  far  from 
us  to  complain  of  the  Creator,  on  account  of  sin  which  he  neither 
caused  nor  consented  to,  and  Avhich  must  only  contribute  to  the 
glory  of  his  unfathomable  grace. 

But  the  possibil it?/  of  the  fall  without  blame  to  the  Creator  being 
admitted,  another  question  arises :  Through  what  untoward  incite- 
ment did  it  become  a  reality  ?  Even  to  this  question  the  Scriptures 
give  a  satisfactory  answer  :  it  took  place  through  outward  prompting, 
— through  evil  spiritual  influence,  which  was  already  existing  in 
creation.  Upon  the  basis  of  a  created  but  still  spiritual  existence, 
the  possibility  of  being  moved  and  poisoned  by  an  influence  at 
enmity  with  God  must  be  admitted.  The  inexperience  of  our  first 
parents,  who  were  not  isolated  in  the  new  world,  corresponded  ex- 
actly Avith  the  subtlety  of  Satan  in  the  form  of  a  serpent.  The 
kingdom  of  Satan,  as  a  spiritual  power,  and  the  peccability  of  the 
first  pair,  whose  pure  self-determination  was  ensnared  and  obscured 
through  that  power,  furnish  a  satisfactnry  explanation  of  the  fall. 
The  foil  itself  Avas  ccrtairdy  a  free  self-determination,  otherwise  no 
blame  could  attach  to  it;  but  not  altogether  so:  both  the  decision 
and  the  guilt  were  shared  by  the  devil,  as  the  murderer  from  the 
begiiming :  it  was  a  coopenition  of  human  freedom  Avith  the  tempt- 
ation of  the  evil  principle  himself.  The  poAver,  hoAvever,  of  the 
spiritual  contact  and  influence  is  great,  and  far  stronger  than  that 
of  the  sun  upon  the  planets  in  the  kingdom  of  nature.  The  com- 
plete expulsion  of  the  evil  principle  is  reserved,  according  to  the 


572  The  Origin  of  Evil.  [October, 

Scriptures,  until  the  last  starve  of  the  perfected  development  of  the 
world, — until  the  judgment  of  the  world,  and  the  restoration  of  all 
things,  when  even  the  physical  world  shall  be  rescued  from  the  con- 
trol of  him  who  has  the  power  of  the  death.  Now  the  power  is  still 
allowed  to  him,  and  the  regular  course  of  the  world  and  history  shows 
us  the  conflicts  of  light  and  darkness. 

But  according  to  the  IScripture  account,  the  temptation  of  our  first 
parents  was  gradual,  and  the  motives  to  the  fall  arc  thus  psycho- 
logically clear.  First  of  all,  the  serpent  raised  a  doubt  concerning' 
the  divine  prohibition,  and  the  ruinous  consequences  of  sin  :  "  Yea, 
hath  God  said,  Ye  shall  not  eat  of  every  tree  of  the  garden?"  "Ye 
shall  not  surely  die."  Then  ho  awakened  pride,  inducing  man  to 
overleap  his  appointed  condition  to  become  like  God,  and  to  use  his 
freedom  arbitrarily,  and  according  to  his  own  pleasure :  "  God  doth 
know,  that  in  the  day  ye  cat  thereof,  then  your  eyes  shall  be  opened; 
and  ye  shall  be  as  god.'^,  knowing  good  and  evil.'"  After  this  prep- 
aration came  the  thought  that  the  tree  was  good  for  food,  pleasant 
to  look  upon,  and  to  be  desired  to  make  one  wise.  The  sensual 
desire  would  now  naturally  start  up ;  and  the  woman  seduced  be- 
came the  seducer.  The  powers  of  the  soul  were  corrupted  before 
the  actual  sin  took  place :  the  faculty  of  knowledge  by  doubt  and 
unbelief  toward  God,  the  faculty  of  desire  through  unbounded 
striving  and  proud  excess,  as  the  Grecian  fiible  of  Prometheus 
represents  it;  and  finally  the  faculty  of  feeling,  through  sensual 
longing,  which  propensity  the  religion  of  the  Greeks  sets  forth  by 
Epimetheus  and  I'andora.  Thus  did  the  possibility  of  the  fall, 
which  rests  upon  tlie  freedom  of  the  creature,  pass  over  into  reality 
under  evil  outward  influences. 

The  conversation  between  Eve  and  the  serpent  shows  how  ac- 
cessible she  was ;  the  woman,  as  the  weaker  part,  is  first  approached 
and  misled,  and  not  till  then  the  man, — and  even  then  only  through 
her:  as  also  the  apostle  Paul  expresses  it,  (1  Tim.  ii,  14,)  the  woman 
was  first  in  the  tran.^gression.  Dr.  Rothe,  indeed,  (p.  221,) 
thinks  that  the  assumption  of  a  Satanical  temptation  does  not  at  all 
help  the  difficulty;  because  that  assumption  always  presupposes  a 
real  susceptibility  of  bt-ing  tempted,  a  sinful  predisposition,  a  mini- 
mum of  sin.  P)ut  the  jiossibility  of  being  tempted  to  sin  is  not  yet 
sin ;  with  Rothe  that  j^redisposition  is  rather  something  already  ex- 
isting. It  is  certainly  much  more  worthy  of  God  to  conceive  of  his 
creatures  as  pure  and  good,— they  first  .determining  themselves  to 
evil,  and  the  enemy  active  therein.  If  even  the  Son  of  (Jod  could 
be  tempted  without  injury  to  his  sinlcssness,  much  more  the  first 
Adam,  whose  pcrsunulity  and  divine  resemblance  were  specifically 


1853.]  The  Origin  of  Evil.  573 

lower.  The  three  temptations  penetrated  the  mind  of  Jesus  from 
without,  according  to  the  three  principal  divisions  of  sin.  (1  John 
ii,  IG.)  He  appeared  in  the  likeness  of  sinful  flesh ;  but  while  this 
gave  the  tempter  a  handle,  it  also  occasioned  his  overthrow. 

If,  in  fine,  we  compare  the  Scriptural  theoi^,  thus  understood, 
with  the  modern  philosophical  explanations  of  the  fall,  the  result 
will  be  that  the  former  will  be  found  to  contain  incomparably  more 
truth  and  wisdom  than  the  latter;  although  Rothe  (p.  2-21)  is  of  the 
opinion  that  the  Biblical  account  of  the  fall  can  no  longer  be  main- 
tained, and  that  the  fall  cannot  be  explained  from  the  Mosaic  stand- 
point. If  we  desert  the  oldest  record  of  the  human  race — instead 
of  making  it  the  starting-point— the  attempt  to  solve  the  question 
in  dispute  will  at  once  be  given  up ;  and  we  place  ourselves  more  or 
less  in  opposition  to  the  idea  of  God,  to  the  conceptions  of  man  and 
of  sin.  Only  the  Bible  (and  perhaps,  agreeing  with  it,  the  my- 
thology of  antiquity)  telLs  us  of  a  man  created  in  the  image  of 
God,  in  a  paradisiacal  state  of  innocence  ,-^  and,  in  accordance 
with  this  fact,  shows  how  this  state  was  interrupted  and  per- 
verted into  one  of  guilt.  Dr.  Julius  Midler,  on  the  contrary, 
although  Paradise  has  still  a  place  in  his  system,  places  Adam 
in  it  as  already  a  sinner.  In  the  same  way  Bothe  presupposes 
what  he  ought  to  show,  since  he  assumes  evil  as  original  and 
necessary  in  the  development  of  the  world.  We  cannot  see, 
either  according  to  Muller  or  Botho,  whence  it  could  properly 
come  into  the  natural  world.  Bothe,  with  his  presupposition,  is 
obliged  to  assume  one  of  two  things:  either  he  must  dualistically 
establish  an  evil  princijde  in  matter,  and  deny  the  pure  creation  of 
God,  or  he  must  ascribe  the  origin  of  sin,  not  to  the  perverted  will, 
but  to  God  himself:  in  both  cases  he  has  a  Manichean  life-view  of 
sentient  beings.  Sin  with  him  is  not  a  free  act  of  man,  proceeding 
out  of  the  heart  and  will;  it  springs  from  the  overmatching  power 
of  material  nature  subduing  his  personality  with  inevitable  necessity. 
(P.  2'2Q.)  "The  origin  of  evil  from  pure  good  must  forever  remain 
inconceivable,"  (p.  'i'J-i  ;)  thus  he  establishes  an  impure  material 
creation.  Is  anything  explained  by  this  means?  Whence  comes, 
then,  impurity  into  the  material  creation  before  all  acts  of  the  will  ? 
Is  not  the  question  more  easilv'  explained  by  the  abuse  of  freedom, 
than  by  metaphysics;  more  easily  through  the  devil  and  man,  than 
by  the  act  of  the  Creator?  The  fall,  according  to  the  doctrine  of 
the  Church,  says  Bothe,  (p.  220,)  was  a  blunder  in  the  work  of  the 
earthly  creation,  as  it  were,  at  the  beginning.  In  order  to  avoid 
this,  either  an  evil  principle  must  have  been  cooperative  in  the 
creation,  or  else  God  himself  must  have  ruined  his  own  work  at  its 


574  The  Origin  of  Evil.  [October, 

commencement.  Shall  we  call  tliis  escaping  the  blunder  made  at  the 
beginning?  Is  it  not  rather  increasing  it,  and  carrying  it  over  into 
the  region  of  the  perfect  and  the  holy?  The  latter  of  these  tTvo 
opinions,  strictly  taken,  is  that  of  Rothe,  since  he  assumes  matter  as 
created  by  God,  and  from  matter  deduces  sin.  But  the  positions : 
Matter  was  created  by  God,  and — Matter  is  the  opposite  of  God, 
and  hence  the  origin  of  sin,  (pp.  104  and  221,)  contradict  each  other. 
And  every  appearance,  every  open  or  concealed  attempt  to  place  the 
original  cause  of  sin  to  the  account  of  God,  the  Almighty  Creator, 
must  be  rejected  at  once.  It  would  be  much  better  to  let  the  great 
problem,  which  lies  outside  of  our  experience,  go  unsolved,  than  to 
prejudice  the  doctrine  of  the  creation  and  the  honour  of  God;  and 
thus  place  ourselves  in  contradiction  with  the  religious  consciousness 
of  evangelical  Christendom,  which  has  laid  down  its  just  under- 
standing of  the  Jloly  Scriptures  in  the  nineteenth  article  of  the 
Augsburg  Confession :  "  Although  Almighty  God  created  and  up- 
holds universal  nature ;  yet  still  the  perverted  will  works  sin  in  all 
the  wicked  and  despisers  of  God ;  for  the  will  of  the  devil  and  of 
all  the  wicked,  is  such,  that  as  soon  as  God  hath  removed  his  hand, 
it  hath  turned  itself  from  God  to  evil."  But  it  appears  to  us  to  be 
an  entirely  inadmissible  kind  of  inference,  to  make  this  article,  which 
expressly  excludes  sin  from  the  divine  causality,  signify  that  God 
ought  to  be  blamed  for  taking  away  his  hand,  and  to  say  that  it 
expresses  the  incvitablcncss  of  sin. 

The  removal  of  the  hand  of  God  clearly  means  nothing  more 
than  that  God  exerci.-es  no  irresistible  power  in  the  circle  of  human 
freedom  and  personality.  Just  here  the  erroneous  conclusions  have 
their  concealed  scat.  Because  everything  depends  on  the  will  of 
God,  even  that  which  is  opposed  to  his  will  must  have  been 
ordained  by  him ;  because  nothing  is  impossible  with  God,  they 
ascribe  evil  to  him  also,  in  order  to  have  a  really  omnipotent  God. 
But  there  exists  no  longer  an  exclusive  and  absolute  causality  of  God, 
so  soon  as  by  the  actual  creation  of  free  beings  he  has  renounced  it, 
and  we  acknowledge  its  existence.  There  is  no  such  thing  as 
in-esistible  grace,  to  say  nothing  of  irresistible  sin ;  for  the  will  of 
the  devil  is  not  iiTCsistiblc,  but,  in  opposition  to  God,  impotent. 

The  doctrine  of  the  incvitableness  of  sin  wars  against  holiness — 
the  fundamental  conception  of  the  revealed  God  of  both  Testaments. 
As  certainly  as  it  is  true,  (Deut.  xxxii,  4,)  "The  work  of  God  is 
perfect — a  God  of  trutii  and  without  iniquity,  just  and  right  is  he;" 
as  certainly  as  we  pray,  "  Hallowed  be  thy  name ;"  so  certainly  must 
we  repel  every  intimation  tliat  evil  could  proceed  from  God,  or  be 
ordained  or  willed  by  him.    This  doctrine  also  wars  against  the  justice 


1853.]  The  Origin  of  Evil.  575 

of  God ;  for  he  Avho  punishes  evil  cannot  produce  it.  Hence  the  prin- 
ciple remains  firm :  "  ^Vhatsoever  a  man  sowcth,  that  shall  he  also 
reap."  It  (i.  c.,  the  inevitableness  of  sin)  is  not  a  doctrine  cor- 
responding to  our  religious  necessities ;  for  redemption  and  divine 
grace  fl'ould  be  brought  into  doubt,  if  sin  -were  regarded  as  a  blame- 
less and  miavoidable  weakness  of  our  race.*  \vhat  is  necessary 
to  human  nature  at  one  time,  must  for  the  same  reason  always  re- 
main so;  what  has  once  been  established  in  the  world-order  cannot 
indeed  be  destroyed.  ^\gain,  this  doctrine  would  raise  doubts  of  the 
validity  of  the  work  of  redemption.  Where  there  is  no  guilt,  there 
is  nothing  to  destroy,— no  possibility  of  repentance  for  the  errors 
of  the  past.  The  doctrine  which  places  the  origin  of  evil  in  the 
sphere  of  necessity,  mistakes,  finalh',  the  nature  of  sin  as  a  free 
moral  act,  which  proceeds  from  the  will  of  man,  and  turns  his  heart 
away  from  God ;  it  misunderstands  the  spiritual  and  ethical  charac- 
ter of  sin;  it  assails  as  well  man's  noblest  distinction— his  person- 
ality—as his  guilt.  :N  either  men  of  God,  moved  by  the  Holy 
Ghost,  nor  those  touched  and  tempted  by  Satan,  are  or  were  autom- 
atons; but  as  spiritual  essences  endowed  with  the  image  of  God, 
they  cooperate  with  tlie  one  or  the  other ;  i.  e.,  with  God  or  Satan. 
And  if  they  arc  in  the  first  instance  without  merit,  in  the  second,  ac- 
cording to  the  testimony  of  their  consciences,  they  are  not  without 
guilt;  and  even,  although  the  activity  of  the  will,  in  a  state  of 
transport  or  possession,  may  be  repressed  until  it  disappears,  yet 
in  no  case  is  it  possible  to  conceive  of  the  two  points,  the  original 
condition  of  innocence,  and  the  fall,  in  a  merely  mt'taphysical  way, 
and  without  ethical  self-activity. 

Regarded  from  this  comprehensive  point  of  view,  the  examination 
of  this  question  has  an  important  place  in  dogmatics,  and  furnishes 
one  among  many  proofs  that  the  doctrine  of  the  Holy  Scriptures  is 
that  of  the  Confession  of  the  evangelical  Church,  and  contains  the 
only  true  theology  and  philosophy  of  divine  things ;  and  that  every 
departure  from  it  ends  in  irreconcilable  contradiction. 

'Thus  the  llcrmcs  of  Plato,  \vhich  was  found  at  Tivoli  in  1S46,  had  the 
inscription:  "Guilt  the  result  of  our  o-\vn  election;  God -without  guilt;  every 
soul  immortal:  alria  i?ouiyu-  Otng  uvalrior-  rl'vxr]  Si  rruca  aOdvarog."  Comp. 
Plat,  dc  Republ.  x,  p.  G17,  C;  Phaedr.  p.  24-5,  C.  Comp.  Jamc3  i,  13  :  "Let  no 
man  say  when  he  is  tempted,  I  am  tempted  of  God:  for  God  cannot  be  tempted 
with  evil,  neither  tempteth  he  any  man." 


576  Ansehn,  of  Canterbury.  [October, 


Art,  VI.— ANSELM,  OF  CANTERBURY. 

Saint  Ansehne  de  Cantorbery.  Tahlrnu  de  la  Vie  Monastique,  et  de  la  lutte  dii 
Pouvoir  Spirituel  avcc  le  Pouvoir  Tempord  au  Onzicme  Siccle.  Par  M.  Charles 
WE  Remcsat,  dc  rAcadeniic  Fran<;ais.  Svo.  Paris,  Didier;  New- York,  Bos- 
sange. 

This  is  a  ^vork  of  a  description  coming  recently  much  into  vogue, 
if  -ffc  may  judge  of  the  demand  from  the  supply.  The  idea  of  the 
class  is,  that  the  leading  minds  of  the  several  epochs  of  human  his- 
tory epitomize,  in  their  biographies,  the  special  features  of  the  times. 
The  principle  is  sound,  undoubtedly,  as  well  as  modern  in  its  con- 
ception ;  but  the  purpose  to  which  these  -writers  for  the  most  part 
as  yet  apply  it,  is,  although  interesting,  scarcely  vrorthy  of  its  scien- 
tific import.  The  object  of  the  present  author,  one  of  the  ablest  of 
the  number — the  learned  son  of  tlio  illustrious  Remusat — is  given 
as  follows  in  the  second  chapter : — 

"  It  will  not  perhaps  ho  witliout  attraction  to  represent  to  oui-selves  an  image 
of  the  age  of  feudal  .«oc-iety  in  w  hii-U  St.  Anselm  lived ;  and  to  penctra'te 
those  gloomy  monasteries,  into  -which  for  several  centuries  tied  for  refuge  the 
rarest  intellects  and  purest  cliaractcrs  of  the  times.  The  recital  of  an  ancient 
past, -when  it  does  not  sink  into  an  arid  chronicle,  possesses  an  interest  in- 
dependent of  the  imjKirtance  of  the  facts  retraced.  As  the  smallest  vase,  as 
the  humblest  nten-;il.  M'hon  covered  over  -with  the  rust  of  time,  becomes  an 
object  of  curiosity  in  our  museums,  so  do  events,  ho-ivevcr  simple,  -when  turned 
up  at  the  distance  of  ages,  in  all  their  real  and  naive  character,  acquire  a 
singular  accession  of  value,  and  evcu  a  certain  charm  for  those  who  study  his- 
tory with  some  imagination,  and  mIio  practise  in  its  perusal  the  moral  maxim 
of  the  ancient  writer, — '  not  to  A.-el  indiiferent  toward  any  object  which  has 
regard  to  our  common  humanity.'" — Pp.  17,  18. 

So  we  see  that  the  author's  purpose  is  merely  moral  and  senti- 
mental. In  the  reproduction  of  the  past,  he  designs  to  gratify  the 
curiosity,  or  at  best  to  moralize  the  sentiments  of  the  present:  he 
does  not  think  of  cT}>laining  either,  still  less  of  indicating  the 
futiu-e.  He  would,  in  short,  have  history,  he  saj^s,  perused  with 
some  "imagination."  This  word  discloses  the  precise  condition  of 
his  conception  of  the  sphere  of  history.  With  M.  de  llemusat  and 
his  fellow-Avriters  of  this  mono,graphic  class,  the  highest  of  sciences 
lingers  still  in  what  we  may  designate  the  bcllcs-kitres  stage ;  it  is 
regarded  as  a  theme  of  art,  but  scarce  susceptible  of  science  or 
system. 

No  doubt  the  former  of  these  stages  (that  of  art)  must  precede, 
and  prepare  the  way  for  the  stage  of  science  in  all  things.  In 
the  case   before  us,   it  is  to  be  noted  that  the  art  has  reached 


1853.]  Ansclm,  of  Canterbury.  bTI 

that  confine  at  which  the  purpose  passes  from  amusement  or 
edification  into  explanation.  The  chronicle  is  culled  at  first 
for  the  personal  characters  alone,  and  the  lawless  fancy  of 
the  childish  ages  supplies  the  rest:  the  result  is  the  romance 
proper,  with  its  giants,  dragons,  and  magicians.  Afterward,  the 
main  events  as  well  as  characters  are  reproduced,  but  in  colours 
less  exaggerated,  and  Avith  fewer  arbitrary  combinations,  and 
fictitious  details,  deemed  then  less  interesting  than  the  real :  this 
is  the  "  historical  novel,"  of  which  Scott  is  the  British  type.  Last 
of  these  historian  artists  come  the  writers  of  the  class  in  question, 
who  are  content  to  represent  the  facts  in  their  full  fidelity  and 
particularity ;  and  this,  no  doubt,  because  the  public  mind  is  now 
mature  enough  to  find  them  interesting, — to  study  them  (as  M.  de 
Remusat  desires)  with  some  "  imagination,"  or,  in  philosophic  lan- 
guage, Avith  a  presentiment  of  theory. 

Books  of  this  class  are  therefore  evidently  on  the  threshold  of  the 
science  of  history,  and  are  supplying  in  fact  the  basis  for  its  full 
establishment  or  illustration.  It  is  not  therefore  of  their  confine- 
ment to  ibis  useful  province  that  we  complain,  but  of  the  strange 
unconsciousness  of  most  of  these  Avriters  as  to  the  region  which  lies 
beyond  them,  or,  at  all  events,  their  strict  omission  to  suggest  this 
outlet  from  the  old.  routine.  Having  thus  supplied  it,  for  both  the 
pui-poses  of  general  indication  and  the  occasional  criticism  of  the 
book  before  us,  as  we  proceed,  our  running  analysis  will  now  be 
confined  to  the  author's  platform,  or  point  of  view.  And  here  our 
notice  must  be  contracted  to  the  loading  personage  of  the  narrative, 
to  the  character,  career,  and  writings  of  Anselm.  We  must  refer 
to  the  book  itself  fur  the  countless  episodes  of  feudal  life  and  mo- 
nastic manners  which  make  the  garniture,  the  filling-up  of  the  social 
picture,  and  on  which  the  intellect — a  little  languid — of  the  author 
loves  to  dwell  with  a  reactionary  afloctation  of  liberality. 

AXSELM  was  born  on  the  Swiss  confines  of  Lombardy,  in  the  year 
1033  or  1034.     His  parents  were  rich  and  noble,  like  those  of  his 
episcopal  predecessor,  Lanfranc,  who  was  also  a  felloAV-countryman  of 
his,  having  been  born  at  Favia.     Both  the  nativity  and  the  condition 
of  these  two  personages  are  entirely  consonant  with  the  distinction 
which  they  attained  in  that  ru<le  age  and  in  a  foreign  country.    At  that 
time,  Italy  was  the  most  forward  of  European  nations  in  civilization; 
or,  tospeak  more  strictly,  was  the  laud  where  the  sacredfire  of  ancient 
learning  and  cultivation — in  cooling  inward  toward  the  focus — had       j 
decayed  the  least  in  either  brain  or  bloo<l;  and  noble  blood,  at  least       ' 
in  a^es  when  nobles  only  were  closoly  educated,  avouUI  be  also  the       j 
most  retentive  of  this  hereditary  capability.     This  remai-k  may  ex-       i 


578  Anselm,  of  Canterbury.  [October, 

plain  the  contrast  between  the  high  philosophy  of  Anselm  and  the 
English  barbarism  of  the  epoch,  which  British  writers  would  fain 
dissemble,  by  classing  habitually  in  their  national  literature  this 
earliest  oracle  of  rational  religion  in  the  middle  ages.  As  soon  could 
England  have  then  or  now  produced  a  centaur  or  a  hippogriff.  It  was 
only  through  her  conqueror  that  she  received  and  rewarded  the  two 
Italian  scholars,  and  that,  too,  when  their  years  were  advanced  and 
their  reputation  established. 

Is  it  not  also  characteristic,  that  while  Italy  supplied  the  birth, 
and  England  the  dignities,  of  both  adventurers,  their  intermediate 
education  should  be  sought  successively  in  Kormandy?  Normandy 
in  fact,  in  those  days,  was  the  seat  or  cynosure  of  learning.  For 
some  hundred  and  fifty  years  before — since  the  conquest  under  Rollo 
— those  dashing  barbarians  had  bribed  the  clergy  to  consolidate  their 
plunder,  by  the  frequent  establishment  and  large  endowment  of 
monasteries.  But  monasteries  were  the  philosophic  seminaries  of 
those  simple  ages, — the  aspiration  as  well  as  asylum  of  all  who  felt  a 
mental  mission.  It  was  under  this  high  impulse  that  Lanfranc — at 
first  a  lawyer — came,  at  the  age  of  thirty- seven,  to  the  famous  aehools 
of  Normandy,  and  founded  some  twelve  years  later  a  monastery  of 
his  own.  It  was  this  also  that  inspired  the  gentle  and  still  greater 
Anselm,  at  an  age  much  greener,  to  quit  his  home  on  the  like 
adventures,  and  reach  the  convent  of  his  countryman — a  convent  of 
Avhich  he  soon  Avas  to  succeed  him  in  the  abbacy,  as  he  again  did,  in 
later  life,  in  the  primacy  of  Canterbury. 

Passing  over  his  monastic  sojourn  at  the  Convent  of  Bee,  in 
Normandy — where  he  Avas  three  years  simple  monk,  fifteen  years 
prior,  and  fifteen  also  abbot  of  the  institution — we  come  at  once  to 
his  passage  to  Jmgland,  and  his  promotion  to  the  See  of  Canter- 
bury. 

These  two  events,  though  not  remote  in  time,  were  unconnected, 
it  seems,  in  purpose.  It  was  one  of  the  Norman  barons  who  per- 
suaded Anselm  to  come  over,  for  the  purpose  of  supcrv^ising 
the  foundation  of  a  monastery.  But  at  this  juncture  the  See  of 
Canterbury  had  been  vacant  some  four  years ;  and  the  Abbot  of 
Bee,  on  his  arrival,  found  the  public  mind  disposed,  through  the 
preparation  of  his  brother  monks,  perhaps,  to  name  him  successor 
to  Lanfranc.  This  in  our  day  looks  undoubtedly  like  a  contrivance 
of  politicians ;  yet  the  supposition  would  give  too  much  credit  for 
combination  to  those  simjilc  ages,  when  men  were  actuated  for  the 
most  part  by  present  impulses  and  interests.  In  fact,  the  interests 
had  been  in  this  case  of  a  sufficiently  common  urgency  to  give  the 
concert  the  prompt  alacrity  of  spontaneity.     The  barons  wished  a 


1853.]  Anselm,  of  Canterbury.  579 

check  upon  the  frantic  passions  of  the  king,  (the  second  "Wil- 
liam, surnamecl  Kufus,)  and  they  felt  it  could  be  found  only  in  his 
religion,  or  superstition,  and  by  confronting  his  despotism  -with  the 
spiritual  terrors  of  the  Church.  The  Churchmen,  as  Avell  the 
regular  as  secular,  ■wished  an  archbishop — the  one  to  dignify  their 
order,  the  other  to  multijily  their  benefices;  and  for  the  people, 
the  conquered  Saxons,  it  little  mattered  -what  they  might  wish :  and 
besides,  in  those  days  their  wishes  were  all  in  common  with  those 
of  their  spiritual  and  temporal  guides.  Moreover,  a  character  such 
as  Anselm's  for  gentleness  and  learning  was  then,  as  it  is  at  all 
times,  a  commendation  to  the  oppressed.  JNor  are  these  traits  at 
all  unacceptable,  on  the  other  hand,  to  the  oppressors,  who  consider 
gentleness  allied  to  weakness,  and  thus  no  obstacle  to  their  iniq- 
uities; while,  on  the  contrary,  obsequious  talent  may  supply  an 
instrument  for  improved  modes  of  plunder.  This  we  think  an  ex- 
planation of  the  strange  reception  afforded  to  Anselm,  which  M. 
de  Remusat  has  left  his  readers  to  interpret  according  to  fancy. 

However,  it  seems  that  all  parties  were  for  transporting  the  foreign 
monk,  without  delay,  into  the  British  primacy — all,  at  least,  except 
the  king;  and  this  exception  had,  like  the  opposite  dispositions,  its 
sufficient  reason.  During  the  vacancy  the  king  had  pocketed  the 
immense  revenues  of  the  archbisiiopric,  and  he  much  preferred  to  let 
thinc-s  go  on  as  they  were.  With  a  shrewdness  inspired  by  avarice 
or  incredulity,  he  therefore  doubted  the  full  sincerity  of  Anselm's 
protestations  against  such  honours.  When  one  of  his  courtiers, 
perhaps  to  sound  him,  remarked  one  day  in  conversation : 
"I  know  no  man  of  equal  holiness  to  that  Abbot  of  Bee;  he 
loves  only  God,  and  desires  none  of  the  goods  of  this  world." 
"No,"  said  the  king,  smiling,  "not  even  the  Archbishopric  of 
Canterbury."  "  This  the  least  of  all,"  replied  the  other,  "  as  is 
well  known."  "  J3y  the  holy  face  of  liucca!"  (the  habitual  oath  of 
William,)  "  neither  he  nor  any  other  shall  be  archbishop,  except  me." 

This  resolution  was  overcome,  however,  by  a  method  worthy  of 
the  times.  On  occasion  of  one  of  the  national  councils  (the  proto- 
type of  the  House  of  Lords)  which  were  held  at  Christmas,  Easter, 
and  Pentecost,  the  "  lords  spiritual  and  temporal,"  then  the  bishops 
and  the  barons,  in  bemoaning  the  continued  widowhood  imposed 
upon  their  Metropolitan  Cathedral,  agreed  to  go  forthwith  in  a  body  to 
the  king,  and  ask  A/*'  leave  to  offer  jjraijns  for  an  alteration  of  his 
resolution!  "Pray  as  much  as  you  like,"  said  he,  "but  I  will  do 
vrhat  1  please."  The  suppliants,  nothing  daunted,  proceeded  next  to 
Anselm,  and  impl^ired  him  to  prescribe  the  proper  prayers.  With 
this  he  complied,  after  much  reluctance,  on  account  of  his  interest 


580  Anselm,  of  Canterbury.  [October, 

in  the  issue.  It  -was  presently  after  these  things  were  gone  through, 
that  the  conversation  above  recited  between  the  courtier  and  the 
monarch  had  taken  place,  xso  sooner  had  the  latter  made  the  im- 
pious answer  which  closed  the  dialogue,  than  he  fell  into  a  desperate 
fit  of  sickness.  During  this,  which  lasted  some  weeks,  dukes,  bishops, 
abbots,  and  monks,  crowded  daily  to  exhort  his  majesty  to  save  his 
soul ;  and,  as  the  means,  to  pay  his  debts,  to  refund  the  treasures 
which  he  had  forced  from  the  Churches,  and,  above  all,  to  re- 
store her  liberty  and  her  official  to  the  Church  of  Canterbury. 
The  dying  reprobate  refused  nothing ;  he  promised  all  they  asked 
him,  and  had  proxies  sent  to  swear  it  upon  the  altars ;  he  gave  the 
bishops  the  full  disposal  of  both  his  temporal  and  spiritual  interests, 
and  finally  named  Anselm  Archbishop  of  Canterbury. 

Anselm,  who  was  then  in  the  country,  was  called  immediately  be- 
fore the  king:  and  here  the  scene  must  be  related,  with  some  slight 
abridgment,  in  our  author's  words.  The  Archbishop  elect  re- 
fused the  honour,  whereon  the  monarch  became  alarmed  at  the 
thought  of  dying  in  the  possession  of  a  domain  of  the  Church.  The 
courtly  bystanders  assailed  the  recusant,  by  turas,  with  prayers  and 
with  reproaches.  Did  he  want  to  ruin  all  things,  the  king  and  the 
kingdom?  Was  he  then  insane?  Anselm  could  only  turn  to  a 
brace  of  his  fellow-monks,  and  exclaim:  "Ah!  brothers,  why  do 
you  not  sustain  me?"  "  If  it  be  the  will  of  God,"  replied  one  of 
these,  "  what  can  we  do  to  hinder  it  ?"  "  The  king  then  bade  them 
all  to  implore  him  on  their  knees ;  but  Anselm  knelt  also,  and  per- 
sisted in  his  refusal.  In  fine,  the  attendants,  losing  patience,  ex- 
claimed, A  cross!  a  cross!  Some  took  him  by  the  hand,  others 
shoved  him  along ;  and  he  was  trailed  to  the  bed  of  the  king,  who 
handed  him  the  crosier.  3]ut  he  refused  to  seize  it;  and  kept  his 
right  hand  in  his  bosom,  and  firmly  clenched  besides.  The  bishops, 
pulling  it  out  by  force,  and  holding  the  left  hand  still,  essayed  to 
open  the  fingers  with  a  pressure  that  made  him  groan.  One  of  the 
fingers  was  at  last  lifted  for  a  moment,  and  between  it  and  the 
thumb  was  inserted  the  episcopal  cross,  while  holding  one  against 
the  other  by  main  force.  At  sight  of  this  the  whole  company  raised 
the  shout  of  Vive  Vevi'qvc,  and  the  clergy  intoned  aloud  the  Te 
Deiim.  Then  he  was  rather  c.-irricd  than  conducted  into  a  church, 
while,  pale  and  trembling,  he  still  endeavoured  vainly  to  resist,  and 
repeated  ceaselessly :  "  What  you  do  is  null !  what  you  do  is  null !" 
So  the  "  nolo  cpiscopari"  for  once  at  least  was  no  farce! 

Something  more  than  personal  modesty  or  ecclesiastical  humility 
appears,  however,  to  have  dictated  this  pertinacit}"-  of  abnegation. 
Jt  is  probable  that  Anselm  loiew  his  own  character,  as  well  as  that  of 


1853.]  Anselm,  of  Canterbury.  581 

William  Rufus— the  former  as  unfit  for  action,  as  averse  to  strife 
and  brute  contention,  as  it  Avas  adapted  to  meditation  and  abstract 
reasoning,  and  thus  inflexible,  like  all  such  minds,  upon  the  subject 
of  its  principles ;  the  other  blunt  and  brutal,  with  barbarous  passions 
for  its  only  princijilcs,  and  powers  unlimited  save  by  the  precepts 
of  his  predecessor.  A  collision  between  two  such  contraries,  in  any 
circumstances,  must  be  obvious — since  it  seems  Anselm  reckoned 
nothing  on  a  fatal  issue  to  the  king  s  illness,  Avhich  he  possibly. 
knew  to  have  been  produced  by  the  subornation  of  his  cook  or 
physician.  But  the  encounter  he  must  have  seen  to  be  inevitable 
at  "that  juncture,  when  the  pretensions  of  the  Church  of  Rome  to 
despotise  the  States  of  Europe  had  just  concentrated  upon  the  issue 
of  the  famous  question  of  Investitures. 

The  king  accordingly,  upon  recovery,  resumed  his  position 
upon  this  subject,  and  repelled  the  notion  that  a  foreign  power 
should  have  directly,  or  even  by  deputy,  the  royal  prerogative  of 
giving  bishops  to  his  dominions.  In  this  he  was  besides  supported 
by  the  dying  testament  of  his  great  father :  for  great  undoubtedly 
the  "Conqueror"  of  Britain  might  be  styled,  at  least  according  to 
those  rude  times,  and  the  common  usage  of  the  term.  The  anti- 
Romish  policy,  bequeathed  by  the  prudent  iS'ormans,  has  been  pre- 
served to  us  substantially  in  three  fundamental  maxims.  It  may  be 
useful  to  recall  their  spirit  at  a  moment  when  the  Protestant  world 
is  again  invaded  by  the  same  usurper,  and  in  a  form  not  really  different : 
"1.  Is^o  one  ATithin  the  kingdom  can,  without  the  order  of  the  king, 
reco-^ise  a  Roman  pontiff  as  Apostolic  Pope,  visit  him  without 
the  ^oyal  authorization,  nor  receive  letters  from  him  without 
exhibiting  them  to  the  king  beforehand.  2.  A  national  council 
convened  by  the  Primate  can  establish  or  prohibit  nothing,  but  in 
conformity  with  the  royal  will.  3.  No  archbishop  can,  without  the 
same  authority— against  any  of  the  ollicers  or  the  barons  of  the  king, 
-who  should  be"^  charged  with  a  capital  crime— pronounce  sentence  of 
excommunication,  or  institute  an  action,  or  impose  any  canonical 
penalty  whatever."  Such  were  the  cautious  principles  implanted 
by  its  founder  to  fence  securely  the  independence  of  the   infant 

monarchy princii)le3,  moreover,  which  the  wayward  character  of 

William 'Rufus  was  likely  even  to  exaggerate. 

The  first,  in  fact,  includes  the  cardinal  question  of  Investiture. 
The  form  of  expression  bears  a  reference  to  the  great  schism 
throughout  Germany  and  Italy,  between  the  Empire  and  the  Papacy, 
and  which  bred  at  that  time  a  plurality  of  simultaneous  Popes.  But 
in  forbidding  to  his  clergy  the  recognition,  without  his  order,  of 
any  Pope  as  "apostolic,"  that  is,  legitimate,  the  English  monarch 


582  Anselm,  of  Canterbury.  [October, 

of  course  prohibited,  a  multo  fortiori,  the  valid  reception  of 
substantial  places,  at  his  o-wn  expense,  from  such  unsanctioned 
sources.  And  if,  besides,  he  did  not  make  the  prohibition  in  express 
terms,  it  was  simply  because  the  usurpation  had  not  been  pressed 
Trithin  his  reign.  The  ripening  sore  came  to  a  rupture,  but  in  the 
hands  of  his  violent  successor ;  and  Anselm  was  the  passive  instru- 
ment of  the  crisis. 

We  shall  not  dwell  upon  this  long  contention  between  the  prelate 
and  the  monarch;  the  details  may  be  seen  in  the  English  histories 
of  the  epoch.  ]  twill  be  pertinent  to  note,  however,  that,  in  consonance 
with  the  preceding,  the  first  occasion  of  declared  hostilities  was 
provoked  on  the  part  of  Anselm.  On  the  return  of  William  Rufus 
from  an  expedition  against  his  brother  in  Normandy,  he  was  informed 
by  his  Primate  of  Canterbury  of  a  purpose  of  going  to  Rome  to  receive 
the  pallium  from  the  holy  hands  of  the  Pope.  Which  Pope?  asked  the 
king— for  there  were  then  two  successors  immediately  to  Hildebrand, 
and  apostolically  to  St.  Peter,  namely,  Clement  III.  and  Urban  11. 
Anselm  named  the  latter;  but  the  king  exclaimed  with  irritation 
that  he  had  not  himself  as  yet  recognised  him,  and  that  it  was  no 
more  his  custom  than  it  had  been  that  of  his  father  to  allow  his 
bishops  to  intermeddle  in  such  matters.  "  As  well  might  you  think," 
he  added,  "  of  depriving  me  of  my  crown."  Anselm  remonstrated. 
"No,  no,"  he  rejoined,  "  fidelity  to  me  is  incompatible  with  obedience 
to  Rome."  The  prelate  then  requested  that  a  national  council 
might  be  called :  and  if  it  should  decide  against  him,  he  would  rather 
wait  outside  the  kingdom  until  the  royal  recognition  of  the  real  Pope. 
The  king  consented,  but  with  the  hope  of  getting  rid  of  this  trouble- 
some customer,  through  the  complacency  of  his  lords  spiritual  and 
temporal. 

The  barons,  however,  hesitated,  on  the  pretext  that  it  was  not 
their  affiiir,  but  in  reality  because  they  wislied,  as  above  suggested, 
to  have  the  king  restrained.*  The  bishops  for  the  mos^  portt 
were,  on  the  contrary,  found  ready  for  the  sacrifice  of  a  brother 
dignitary  in  disgrace;  but  more  especially  in  case  of  one  whose 
renown  for  learning  had  given  them  umbrage,  and  the  rever- 
sion of  whose  high  position,  with  its  vast  possessions,  might  be 
hoped  by  each.  Not,  however,  that  these  selfish  motives  do  not 
often  yield  to  the  esprit  de  corps,  in  the  peculiar  organization  of  the 
Romish  system.  Rut  the  spirit  of  this  system,  in  its  full  expan- 
sion at  the  time  in  Italy,  had  not  as  yet  inspired  the  British  clergy, 
either  Norman  or  native.     The  latter  were  in  those  days— as  well 

•'Hence  the  pretext  and  the  purpose  of  the  great  rebellion  against  'William. 
t  Out  of  twenty,  only  two  adhered  to  Anselm. 


1653.]  Aiiselm,  of  Canterbury.  583 

in  theology  as  in  geography — thepenitus  toto  divisos  orhe  Britannos. 
Between  them  and  the  cause  of  Anselm — whicli  Avas  the  compre- 
hensive claim  of  llildebrand — there  could  therefore  have  been  no 
sufficient  sympathy,  or  "  solidarity."  And  we  may  add  that  this 
double  circumstance  of  deep  disparity  with  those  he  lived  among, 
and  high  conformity  with  the  Italians  in  his  theological  maturity, 
affords  a  compound  confirmation  of  the  natal  influence  above 
attributed  to  the  social  condition  of  the  nation  upon  the  mental 
calibre  of  the  individual. 

The  king,  unwilling  with  the  division  in  his  council  to  proceed  to 
extremities,  bethought  liim  of  another  method  of  bringing  Anselm 
to  submission.  In  the  midst  of  the  prolonged  session,  he  sent  mes- 
sengers to  Rome  and  bribed  the  Pope — the  very  Urban  for  whom 
Anselm  had  been  suflcring — with  the  price  of  a  sum  of  money,  and 
his  recognition  as  the  Vicar  of  Christ,  to  have  the  pallium  trans- 
mitted to  the  king  himself.  Bestowed  on  Anselm  by  the  royal 
hands,  it  would  fasten  fealty  on  the  restiff  prelate;  just  as  Louis 
Napoleon,  the  other  day,  took  care  to  do  by  some  new  archbishops, 
in  conformity  with  the  Concordat  of  his  great  uncle.  The  pallium 
was  brought  to  William,  but  Anselm  would  not  take  it  unless 
deposited  upon  the  altar  of  the  cathedral ;  just  as  the  first  Ka- 
poleon  would  not  have  liis  crown  from  the  Papal  hands,  but  had 
it  placed  upon  the  altar  of  ISotre  Dame ;  and  as  will  be,  too,  we  dare 
predict,  the  cautious  course  of  his  present  successor.  To  this 
transaction  the  king  assented,  no  doubt  in  part  from  utter  weari- 
ness, but  also  because  other  projects  were  then  engaging  his 
attention,  and  to  which  Anselm  might  be  serviceable,  as  well  per- 
sonally as  officially. 

In  fact,  the  Pope — the  aforesaid  Urban — no  doubt  to  show  how 
well  his  zeal  deserved  the  preference  above  his  rival,  which  Avas 
just  declared  by  the  Western  powers,  had  come  to  France,  his  native 
country,  to  preach  in  person  a  new  Crusade.  The  feudal  princes, 
no  less  barbarous  than  the  serfish  herds  they  swayed,  were  fired  to 
rivalry  in  selling  their  property  and  shouldering  the  cross — not  to 
follow  Christ  in  the  ways  of  peace,  according  to  the  meaning  of  his 
prescription,  but  to  rush  into  the  contrary  course  of  slaughtering 
their  fellow-men.  On  this  occasion  the  hair-brained  llobcrt  passed 
the  revenues  of  ]S^'ormand3^  during  a  term  of  three  years,  to  his 
brother  AVilliam  for  a  sum  of  money.  This  amount  had  to  be 
realized,  as  the  secret  purpose  of  the  Unglish  monarch  was  to  get  a 
foothold  in  the  coveted  territory,  which  he  meant  to  keep  in  any 
event ;  and  as  it  was  probable  that  the  treasures  of  the  Churches  would 
be  largely  drawn  upon,  it  was  necessary  to  enlist  the  primate's  co- 


584  Aiiselm,  of  Canterbury.  [October, 

operation,  or  at  least  connivance.  Anselm  gave  both,  in  fact;  and 
how  indeed  could  he  -well  refuse,  •when  the  assigned  object  of  the 
contribution  Avas  the  prosecution  of  the  cause  of  Christ  ? 

His  complacency  in  a  subsequent  case  is  by  no  means  equally  ex- 
cusable, although  no  less  characteristic  of  the  Christianity  of  the  times. 
When  Henry  Beauclerk,  the  tliird  son  of  the  Conqueror,  suc- 
ceeded William,  in  the  first  place  by  usurping  the  previous  title 
of  his  brother  Kobcrt,  and  tiien  by  purchasing  the  resignation 
of  the  latter  for  an  annual  stipend,  that  arch  intriguer  began  forth- 
"with  to  evade  the  payment  of  the  money  stipulated,  and  made  the 
natural  remonstrances  provoked  by  his  defalcation  the  pretext  of 
plundering  his  simple  creditor,  moreover,  of  his  principality.  This, 
it  is  known,  he  finally  accomplished;  and,  after  robbing  his  own 
brother  as  well  of  jSormandy  as  of  England,  incarcerating  him  for 
life,  and  tearing  out  Jiis  eyes,  also  manacling  and  mutilating  other 
nobles — some  his  near  kinsmen,  and  massacring  several  thousands 
of  the  xSorman  people — when  Henry  returned  to  England,  both  him- 
self and  such  achievements  received  the  blessings  and  congratula- 
tion of  the  saintly  Anselm.  To  allow  his  king  to  lay  a  piece  of 
cloth  upon  his  shoulders  would  have  been  a  sacrilege ;  to  give  the 
sanction  of  the  Church  and  Heaven  to  these  savage  butchei'ies  was 
a  duty!  'Si.  de  Kemusat's  solution  of  this  monstrosity  is  not  very 
profound :  "  The  human  mind  had  not  then  the  assurance  of  under- 
taking to  judge  of  all  things;  and  state-reasons  have  but  recently 
come  to  be  looked  upon  as  not  imperative."  The  sneer  is  at  once  shal- 
low and  preposterous;  for  the  pretension  of  the  Church,  and  of  An- 
selm as  its  organ,  was  preeminently  at  that  moment  "  to  judge  of  all 
things,"  and  especially  of  state-reasons.  But  the  principles  on  which 
they  judged  were  the  true  occasion  of  the  contrast  noted.  The  first 
of  these  was,  that  the  sole  legitimate  criterion  of  human  conduct  was 
its  conduciveness,  or  otherwise,  to  the  revealed  ends  of  the  future 
world;  the  second,  that  the  propagation  and  the  predominance  of  the 
Komish  Church,  as  the  only  means  to  these  exclusive  ends,  were 
of  course  of  similar  obligation ;  and  the  third,  that  all  wrongful  suf- 
ferings endured  by  men  on  earth — Avhether  directly  in  the  Church's 
cause,  or  indircctl}"  through  her  connivance,  and  because  it  might 
be  inconvenient  not  to  lend  her  sanction  or  her  silence — will  be,  in 
consequence,  rewarded  with  ample  interest  in  heaven ;  and  arc  ob- 
jects, therefore,  not  of  pily.  nor  of  resentment,  hut  of  rrjoicing.  We 
do  not  sa3%  however,  that  these  propositions,  which  explain  consist- 
ently tlio  conduct  of  Anselm,  were  distinctly  before  the  intellect 
of  either  the  prelate  or  his  Church.  AVhcn  history  is  written  com- 
petently, it  will  cease  to  seek  its  motives  in  the  analysis  of  individ- 


1853.]  Anselm,  of  Canterbury.  585 

iials,  instead  of  epochs.  The  motives,  the  morality,  the  Christianity 
of  the  eleventh  century,  then,  were  technical,  theological,  and  con- 
ventional ;  they  were  not  social,  they  were  not  rational,  they  were 
not  real. 

But  to  return  for  a  moment  to  the  strife  of  Anselm  with  William 
Rufus.  The  latter,  on  obtaining  the  contribution,  left  for  iNoimandy. 
The  primate,  in  his.  absence,  and  partly  instigated  by  the  papal 
legate,  who  loitered  behind  after  bringing  the  pallium,  began  to 
meddle  with  some  fresh  investitures.  The  quarrel  was  of  course 
renewed  on  the  return  of  the  king ;  and  the  ultimate  result  was  that 
Anselm  left  the  kingdom  on  a  visit  to  Home.  No  sooner  was  he 
gone  than  the  monarch  revoked  all  his  past  concessions,  resumed  him- 
self the  primacy  and  the  possessions  of  the  See  of  Canterbury,  and 
retained  them  for  some  years  after,  till  his  violent  death.  His  suc- 
cessor thereupon  invited  Anselm  to  return,  as  he,  too,  wished  the 
consecration  of  the  clergy  for  his  usurpation :  but  he  also  wished 
the  prelate  to  be  reinvested  by  his  own  hands.  Anselm  de- 
clined, and  the  old  quarrel  was  on  foot  again.  This  time  it  was 
more  tedious  and  tergivcrsative,  if  possible ;  for  Henry  possessed  a 
good  deal  of  the  tricky  temper  of  the  Church.  The  battle  now  went 
on  in  large  part  by  texts  from  Scripture ;  and  the  opposite  par- 
ties remained  intrenched  in  these  two  antagonistic  positions  :  "  Give 
unto  Crcsar,"  cried  the  one,  "  the  things  that  are  of  Cfcsar,  but  give 
unto  God  the  things  that  are  God's."  "No  one  can  obey  two 
masters,"  was  the  equally  evangelical,  although  apparently  quite 
contradictory  rejoinder.  In  fine,  however,  Anselm  left  for  Home  a 
second  time,  and  revisited  his  See  of  Canterbmy  some  years  after, 
but  soon  to  die. 

It  is  the  nature  of  a  war  of  words  that  both  the  combatants  should 
claim  the  victory.  Accordingly  the  Chm-chmen  pretended  then 
(and  do  so  still)  that  the  question  of  Investitures  triumphed  in  the 
hands  of  Anselm ;  while  it  is  certain  that  in  practice  (however  it 
may  be  in  principle)  the  privilege  continued  regularly  in  the  hands 
of  the  English  mouarchs.  Not  the  decision  of  the  point,  however, 
but  its  import,  is  our  concern. 

M.  de  Ilemusat  is  very  right  in  representing  this  dispute  as  a 
contention  for  supremacy  between  the  spiritual  and  temporal  powers. 
Each  would  arrogate  exclusively  the  arbitration  of  the  same  subject, 
the  same  aggregate  of  human  actions,  both  ]vjlitical  and  in^lividual; 
and  a  collision  between  the  contrary  jurisdictions  was  therefore  inev- 
itable. But  the  author  is  much  mistaken  in  thinking  that  the  con- 
flict must  be  perpetual,  and  that  the  present  separation  of  Church 
and  State  in  certain  countries — as.forexample,  in  America  and  France 

Fourth  Skuies,  Vol  V.— 37 


586  Anselm,  of  Canterbury.  [October, 

— is  but  a  temporary  compromise,  a  state  of  truce,  that  will  be  sure 
to  cease  -when  the  Church  is  able  to  assert  her  principle.  Ay,  ■ 
no  doubt,  in  that  event ;  but  to  think  it  normal  is  the  author's  error. 
It  marks  his  notion,  as  before  observed,  of  the  philosophy  of  history, 
as  still  in  the  oscillatory  or  the  chaotic  condition.  With  the  slight- 
est knowledge  of  a  law  of  progression  he  could  not  fail  to  have 
concluded  otherwise,  from  even  the  statements  which  he  makes  him- 
self upon  the  subject.  Take  for  instance  the  following  results  of 
fact,  remembering  that  by  "the  Church"  is  meant  the  Roman 
Church  :■■ — 

"  The  policy  of  the  Cluircli  (her  predominance)  has  not  succeeded ;  her 
po-uer  has  gone  on  le^sininir  in  all  tlie  leading  countries,  and  the  progress  of  the 
ideas  of  government,  of  order,  and  of  legality — the  progress  of  civilization — has 
been  mal^ked  by  her  reverses.  Tlie  more  political  governments  have  passed  for 
being  advanced,  the  more  are  they  emancipated  from  the  spiritual.  In  pro- 
portion as  the  royal  authurity,  the  distribution  of  equal  justice,  the  regulation 
of  civil  life,  the  direction  of  education,  have  been  -withdrawn  from  the  domi- 
nation of  the  clergy,  It  has  been  deemed  that  all  these  things  were  on  the  pas- 
sage to  improvenVent,  and  society  seemed  to  show  an  upward  tendency.  All 
thfs  is  believed  still,  in  spite  of  certain  ingenious  A\Titers,  and  in  spite  of  some 
reactions  merely  tran^ll■nt.  Is  it  that  the  common  instinct  of  the  communities 
of  entire  Europe  would  then  have  been  mistaken  for  the  past  four  hundred 
years?"— rp.  428,  4 29. 

}3ut  might  not  these  things,  we  would  ask,  in  turn,  have  suggested 
to  the  author  that  the  tendency  he  thus  relates  involves  a  necessary 
destination,  which  forbids  relapsing  into  constant  compromise  or 
even  collision  with  the  Church  ?  Yet  he  also  goes  still  further  with- 
out perceiving  this  clew  of  principle.  By  vast  historical  erudition 
he  is  led  to  sketch  upon  a  much  larger  scale  the  very  7nodus  operandi 
of  the  progression.  Having  before  noted  that  in  primitive  ages  the 
clerical  power  embraced  the  State,  he  proceeds  to  say  of  modern 
times  that,  on  the  contrary,  the  "  body  politic  comprises  actually 
the  Church  within  its  bosom ;  and  the  temporal  power,  in  its  divers 
forms,  is  become  the  instituter  and  protector  of  all  the  guarantees 
of  society."     How  this  has  come  to  pass  he  goes  on  to  explain : — 

"  The  progress  of  material  lalx)ur,  the  developments  of  industry  and  com- 
merce, have  not  come  to  us  from  the  spiritual  jirinciple ;  and  yet,  while  bet- 
tering men's  conditions,  they  have  softened  and  disciplined  morals,  and  served, 
moreover,  indirectly,  to  the  advancement  of  the  human  intellect.  The  dis- 
covery, or  rather  the  ]iropagation  of  the  lloman  law,  has  introduced  and 
accredited  in  mo<lern  societies  the  maxims  and  the  sentiments  of  civil  order. 
Hence,  for  a  first  eflert,  the  entire  destruction  or  the  restriction  of  the  various 
ecclesiastical  jurisdictions.  Justice  was  now  inaugurated  luider  its  proper 
name,  and  a]>art  from  the  theological  triljunals  of  the  clergy  ;  and  it  is  thence- 
forth that  it  has  seemed  to  become  justice  in  reality.  Also  ancient  letters — 
better  known  and  better  cultivated — have  incited  those  successive  revivals 
which  have  marked  the  progress  of  intelligence,  and  prepared  the  emancipa- 
tion of  the  human  mind.     In  this  way,  by  little  and  little,  arose,  in  presence 


1853.]  Anselm,  of  Canterbury.  587 

of  tbe  Church,  a  political  world  •wherein  moral  doctrines  had  come  to  hold 
an  important  phoe,  and  -nherc  Avere  elevated  gradually  the  mental  interests 
of  humanity.  Tlie  Church  continued  to  call  herself  the  spiritual  power, 
whereas  she  was  no  longer  such  alone,  or  at  least  no  longer  represented  more  than 
one  idea  of  the  human  mind,  not  the  mind  in  its  totality.  Thenceforth  the 
only  liberty  which  she  defended  was  her  own :  she  fell  into  distrust  of  every 
other  social  liberty.  She  recognised  but  with  regret,  she  comprehended  but  im- 
perfectly, the  social  duties  which  sprung  around  her  for  the  first  time.  "With 
eyes  fixed  upon  the  city  of  God,  she  disowned  the  city  tliat  arose  on  earth,  and 
her  ancient  universality  escaped  her  hands.  All  things  expanded  rapidly 
except  her,  and  she  remained  unconscious  of  advancement.  She  thus  uncon- 
sciously allowed  to  grow,  outside  of  her  precincts  and  at  her  expense,  a  novel 
power  called  the  opinion  of  the  world." — Pp.  424,  425. 

It  Avould  not  be  possible,  perhaps,  to  trace  a  closer  picture  of  the 
truth,  in  utter  ignorance  of  the  philosophy  of  history.  As  a  bare 
anal3'sis  of  evident  facts,  the  passage  just  quoted  therefore  yields  acon- 
futationof  the  author's  own  opinion  on  the  confused  provinces  of  Church 
and  State,  and  at  the  same  time  a  confirmation  of  the  suggestions 
above  adventured  upon  the  mcdii\;val  notion  of  theology.  As  trans- 
mitted through  Augustine,  this  was  a  pure  theocracy;  not  a  theocracy 
like  that  of  the  Jews,  which  was  material,  or  based  on  the  earth,  but  a, 
moral  theocracy — the  moral  jihase  of  the  same  theocracy — with  its 
pole  in  the  future.  Upon  the  world  of  the  future  was  therefore  found- 
ed its  moral  system.  But  as  society  and  humanity  proceeded  in  their 
developments,  another  system  of  moral  ends  began  to  undermine 
the  former;  and  has  succeeded,  in  much  the  manner  above  exem- 
plified by  M.  do  Kcmusat,  in  shoving  finally  its  paralytic  predeces- 
sor from  oif  the  track.  The  passage  of  the  Christian  mind  from 
this  medireval  and  Romish  theory — which  placed  the  interests  of 
heaven  in  antagonism  with  those  of  society — is  marked  progressively 
by  all  those  sects  denounced  as  "heretics"  and  "infidels,"  until  the 
tendency  attained  maturity  in  the  great  Lutheran  Reformation. 
The  meaning  of  this  vast  event,  then,  was  the  recognition  of  a  new 
basis  for  the  theology,  and  of  course  morality,  of  the  Christian 
system — a  basis  of  conciliation  (in  place  of  the  old  repugnance) 
between  our  ha]ipiness  an<l  duties  here  and  our  spiritual  destinies 
hereafter.  And,  accordingly,  to  vindicate  this  fundamental  change 
of  views,  arose  the  equally  opposite  method  of  interpretation — 
"  private  judgment."  It  is  only  then  the  Christianity  of  Protestant- 
ism that  has  in  future  to  come  into  collision  Avith  the  State.  But 
this  it  cannot  do,  for  the  reason  just  explained,  that  both  the 
systems  are  brought  to  move  in  eitlier  the  same  or  parallel  ])lanes. 
By  this,  of  course,  is  meant  no  more  than  that  the  Protestants 
enjoy  the  glory  of  having  moralized  and  civilized  the  old  theology: 
we  might  also  say  philosophized  it,  if  the  expression  was  not  deemed 


588  Anselm,  of  Canterbury.  [October, 

equivocal.  As  to  "the  Church,"  it  is  henceforth  destitute  of  any 
influence  lapon  society,  though  it  may  clog  the  ^-ay  (to  resume  our 
metaphor)  among  the  baggage-lumber  of  humanity. 

Now  as  Ansclm  was  the  organ  of  this  theology,  by  his  office,  and 
by  the  eminent  expression  of  its  projects  in  his  public  life,  so  do  we 
find  no  less  distinctively  its  impress  upon  his  writings,— va.  the 
bent  of  doctrines,  the  choice  of  subjects,  and  even  in  the  order  of 

chronology.  .     ^  ,    .v 

The  theory  being  at  that  tmic,  we  have  seen,  an  absolute  theoc- 
racy, the  system  of  Christianity  T^-as  a  deduction— a  synthesis.  To 
deduce  all  things  from  the  single  principle  of  the  Godhead,  or  his 
revealed  will,  and  then  to  harmonize  the  results  in  their  practical 
application,  there  was  also  need  of  logic,  or  dialectics.  Dialectics, 
the  Holy  Scriptures,  and  at  last  the  divine  attributes,  should  there- 
fore form  the  successive  subjects  of  the  compositions  of  our  saint- 
philosopher.  Quite  accordingly,  one  of  the  earliest  of  his  treat- 
ises is  entitled  l)c  Gramrnatico,  and  makes  a  strict  and  even 
technical  application  of  the  rules  of  logic.  That  its  char- 
acter is  dialectical  will  be  evinced  by  the  mere  thesis,  which 
also  gave  the  essay  its  unconsciously  descriptive  name :  for  the 
question  is,  Whether  a  grammarian  be  a  substance  or  a  quality? 
Here,  in  fact,  we  recognise  the  "asses'  bridge"  of  the  scholastic 
system,  and  'the  probable  reason  why  it  is  that  Anselm  has  been 
deemed  the  founder  of  the  school.  And  the  founder  he  might  be 
called,  but  in  the  sense  above  explained,  of  applying  logic  to  the  or- 
thodox doctrines  of  theology.  Scotus  Erigena  and  others  had  em- 
ployed the  art  already ;  but  it  was  to  sap  rather  than  support  the 
established  dogmas  of  the  Church.  With  Anselm  dialectics  was 
the  "5<?ri'flnf  of  theology."  . 

Accompanying  the  publication  of  this  logical  essay,  and,  like  it, 
in  dialogue,  there  were  three  others  "On  the  Scriptures."  The  special 
topics  are  characteristic.  They  are :  1.  On  Free-icill ;  2.  The  DeviVs 
Fall ;  3.  On  Truth.  Free-will  was  the  antagonist  principle  to  the 
omnipotence  of  the  Divine  will ;  the  latter  being  the  orthodox  doc- 
trine of  Ansclm.  He  would  therefore  encounter  early  the  contra- 
diction of  this  subtle  adversary,  which  from  Scotus  to  Roscellinus— 
his  own  contemporary  and  his  combatant— had  grown  quite  mena- 
cincr  in  the  dis-uisc  of  Nominalism.  What  were  Anselm's  opinions 
on  Ihe  subjcct^of  free-will,  ^l  de  llemusat— not  seeing  its  import 
—does  not  give  us  the  analysis  of;  but  they  were  as  adverse  to  it, 
at  least,  as  those  of  Augustine.  _    _ 

The  doctrine  taught  in  the  dialogue  "  De  Casu  Diaboli"  is  m 
close  connexion,  and,  in  fact,  a  consequence.     He  fell,  as  did  Adam 


1853.]  Anselm,  of  Canterhury.  689 

after,  through  the  freedom  of  the  -will.  From  this  alone  ^e  must 
infer  the  doctrine  to  have  been  reprobated  by  St.  Anselm,  among 
the  most  rational — meanin^^  rip;orously  loi^ical— of  theologians.  The 
tract  "  On  Truth"  is  judged  to  have  been  written  at  a  later  period; 
and  is,  at  all  events,  a  natural  passage  from  the  will  of  God,  as  re- 
vealed in  the  Scriptures,  to  his  abstract  nature  and  various  attri- 
butes,— Avhich  are,  moreover,  according  to  Anselm,  the  sum  and 
substance  of  all  truth.  No^y  these  are  just  the  subjects  (in  still 
strict  consonance  vritli  our  deduction)  of  the  two  other  principal 
writings  of  Anselm,  namely,  the  Monologium  de  divinitatis  essen- 
tia, and  the  Proslogium  do  Dei  cxistentia. 

In  like  conformity  with  this  progression  the  author's  method, 
too,  advances  from  mere  technical  dialectics  to  metaphysics.  The 
Monologium  is  a  species  of  outological  induction  of  the  one  from  the 
many,  and  the  permanent  from  the  variable,  the  essential  from  the 
accidental,  in  the  manner  of  the  Platonists.  Not  however,  of  course, 
that  Anselm  could  have  known  the  works  of  Plato ;  nor  was  he,  it 
is  thought,  even  acquainted  with  the  Greek  language.  Some  of 
the  doctrines  he  may  have  gathered  indeed  from  Jerome,  or 
from  Augustine.  But  M.  de  Kemusat  calls  in  Dionysius  the 
Areopagite — whose  mystic  writings,  full  of  Platonism,  had  been 
long  translated  by  the  learned  Erigena— to  the  end  of  accounting 
for  the  strange  concurrence  between  the  heathen  and  the  Christian 
thinker.  Plow  utterly  unphilosophical,  and,  so  to  say,  one-sided  is 
this !  For  unless  Plato's  system  was  an  accident,  there  is  the  same 
amount  of  reason  for  insisting  that  he  must  have  borrowed  it  him- 
self; and  so  in  turn  witli  liis  original,  and  Ids  again  ad  infinitum, 
as  for  supposing,  without  other  evidence  than  the  mere  circumstance 
of  a  coincidence,  that  later  writers  may  not  think  the  same  thino-s 
independently.  Had  not  Anselm  a  similar  intellect  and  the  same 
universe  as  Plato?  and,  we  would  add,  a  corresponding  epoch  of 
speculation  ?  For  the  task  of  Plato  was  to  synthf^tize  unto  a  supreme 
term  of  generality  the  analytic  anarchy  of  heathenism;  and  that  of 
Anselm  was  precisely  to  do  the  same  for  Christianity.  It  was  con- 
sequently even  necessary  that  the  methods  should  have  coin- 
cided; although  the  results  would  of  course  differ,  like  the  prin- 
ciples. 

The  difference  of  results  is  accordingly  characteristic.  Take  for 
instance  the  cardinal  question  of  the  origin  of  evil.  While  Plato 
was  enabled,  by  a  second  coc'tciTial  principle,  to  saddle  matter  v.-ith 
the  blame  of  suffering  and  sin,  Anselm  was  led  implicitly  to 
hold  the  Deity — who  has  made  all  things  out  of  nothing — of  course 
the  author  of  evil,  too,  among  the  rest.     He  Avas  forced,  in  con- 


590  Ansclm,  of  Canterbury.  [October, 

sequence,  to  such  conclusions  as  the  following :  "  That  God  is  a 
sublime  and  universal  negation.  That  as  all  being  proceeds  from 
Divine  Goodness,  it  follows  that  evil  is  not  a  being,  and  has  no  real 
existence  in  creation ;  that  it  is  merely  a  negation,  or  the  absence  of 
good." — P.  4S4.  But  to  this  metaphysical  quibble  it  was  of  course 
easy  to  reply,  that  the  good  principle  was  still  responsible,  in  having 
tolerated  the  defect,  or  was  imperfect,  if  unable  to  prevent  it, — a 
dilemma  of  which  either  horn  ruined  alike  the  author's  s^'stem. 
Then,  again,  it  might  be  asked,  What  becomes  of  the  "devil  and  all 
his  angels,"  if  we  concede  the  nonentity  of  evil?  What  a  comment 
this  upon  the  logical  coherence  of  the  pubhc  reason  in  those  ages 
which  deemed  Anselra  an  oracle  of  orthodo.xy ! 

Not  only  this,  but  (with  a  little  unconsciousness,  of  course)  the 
saint  does  something  worse  than  proscribing  the  evil  principle,  in 
anticipation  of  the  Cnivcrsalists.  If  we  mistake  not,  the  following 
passage  involves  the  rankest  pantheism, — that  amalgamation  of  the 
good  principle  with  entire  nature,  including  evil.  Speaking  of  the 
Divine  nature,  "  It  is,"  he  says,  "  the  essence  of  the  being,  the  prin- 
ciple of  the  existence  of  all  things.  .  .  .  Without  parts,  without 
differences,  without  accidents,  without  changes;  it  might  be  said  in 
a  certain  sense  to  alone  exist,  for  in  respect  to  it  the  other  things 
which  appear  to  be,  have  no  existence.  The  unchangeable  Spirit  is 
all  that  is,  and  it  is  this  without  limit,  simplicitcr,  inter minabiliter. 
It  is  the  perfect  and  alisolute  existence.  The  rest  is  come  from 
nonentity,  and  thither  returns,  if  not  supported  by  God:  it  does  not 
exist  by  itself  In  this  sense  the  Creator  alone  exists ;  the  things 
created  do  not." — Pp.  473,  474.  It  is  plain  that  these  dependent 
and  merely  relative  existences  must  be  conceived  as  an  emanation 
from  the  supreme  and  substantial  essence — must,  like  the  qualities 
of  bodies,  be  in  fact  identical  with.the  supposed  substrata.  In  short, 
it  is  Anselm's  "realism,"  carried  also  into  theology;  and  theological 
realism  is  pantheism.  M.  de  Ilcmusat,  Avith  whose  opinions  we  have 
not  often,  in  the  foregoing  survey,  had  the  good  fortune  fully 
to  concur,  ascribes  in  this  point  the  same  tendency  to  the  the- 
ology of  Ansclm.  He  even  goes  on  to  trace  the  progress  of  the 
tendency  to  our  own  times,  according  to  his  notion  of  the  merely 
personal  transmission  of  ideas.  Thus  Descartes's  famous  demon- 
stration of  the  being  and  attributes  of  God  is,  we  are  told,  but  a 
revival  of  the  argument  of  Anselm.  And  then  Spinoza,  it  is  very 
certain,  did  no  more  than  follow  faithfully,  into  their  ultimate  con- 
clusions, the  Cartesian  principles.  The  successive  views  of  Leibnitz, 
Kant,  Schelling,  Hegel,  Slc,  are  also  next  examined  upon  the  sub- 
ject.    And  to  all  who  like  fine  criticism — intelligent,  impartial,  eru- 


1853.3  Anselm,  of  Canterbury.  591 

dite,  and  wanting   nothing  but  a  better  philosophy — the  closing 
chapter  will  yield  a  treat. 

The  foregoing  question  was  treated  chiefly  by  St.  Anselra  in  the 
Proslogium,  which  is  the  latest,  as  it  is  the  niaturest,  of  his  works. 
The  special  topics  of  tlic  Monologiiun  were  the  Trinit}',  the  Incar- 
nation, Free-will,  Original  Sin,  and  the  theory  of  Grace  and  Pre- 
destination. These  questions  lie  all,  we  say,  at  the  foundation  of  the 
revealed  system  of  Christianity,  and  stood  accordingly  in  Anselm's 
wa}',  so  to  speak,  in  his  progression  to  the  Supreme  Unity,  which  was 
the  vision  of  his  great  intellect,  because  the  yearning  of  his  age. 
Anselm's  career,  then,  in  his  life  of  speculation,  was  an  exact 
counterpart,  at  least  in  object,  to  his  life  of  action,  or  of  endeavour. 
The  endeavour  was  to  make  the  Pope  an  absolute  despot  on  the 
earth.  To  prove  the  Deity  a  despot  also,  of  metaphysical  illimita- 
tion,  was  the  endeavour,  more  or  less  unconsciously,  of  all  his 
writings. 

This  is,  perhaps,  the  most  curious  of  the  many  conformities  which 
we  have  noted— although  M.  de  Remusat,  who  states  the  proofs  of 
the  observation,  ne  s"  en  donle  pas.  It  might  however  have,  like 
the  others,  been  conjectured  a  priori.  Anselm  was  a  man  of  genius ; 
and  of  true  genius  it  is  the  character  to  be  a  unity  in  conduct  and 
conception :  the  definition  will  be  complete  if  we  add,  the  unity  must 
be  a  universality.  This  universal  unity  of  genius  is  homogeneous, 
because  it  is  a  growth  from  within  out^vard.  The  herd  of  minds  are 
formed,  on  the  contrary,  from  without;  they  are,  therefore,  (to  take 
a  term  from  the  geologists,)  conglomerates;  or,  as  Paley  has  well 
expressed  it,  they  are  mere  "  bundles  of  habits ;"  which  means  men- 
tally—-of  prejudices,  passions,  and  traditions. 

In  1843,  Professor  H.\SSE,  of  Bonn,  published  the  first  volume 
of  his  "  Ansehn  von  Cantcrlunj,"  containing  the  life  of  Anselm. 
Following  literally  the  Iloratian  rule  nonmn  prcmatnr  in  annum, 
he  has  just  issued  the  second  volume,  containing  Die  Lehre  xin- 
selm's,  (Leipzig,  1852,  pp.  GG3,)  which  is  characterized  by  Dr. 
Kliu'-r,  in  the  Studicn  and  Kritikcn,  as  a  /u-^/m  iq  ad;  combining 
a  most  thorough  search  into  the  sources,  with  a  clear  and  sound 
historical  knoA\1edgc  and  judgment,  and  a  just  and  adequate  appre- 
ciation of  Anselm's  theology.  Wc  hope,  in  connexion  with  Dr. 
Basse's  work,  to  give  at  some  future  day,  a  full  account  of  An- 
selm's system. 


592  Miscellanies.  [October, 

Art.  yiL— MISCELL^VNIES. 

'■'■  Exposition  of  \   Corinthians  iu,  l-l^ y 

TO   THE   EDITOR. 

The  paper  in  your  July  number,  by  the  Rev.  B.  M.  Hall,  under  the  above  title, 
though  in  many  respects  valuable,  -will  not  as  a  whole  "  abiJe  "  scrutiny.  To 
Mr.  Hall's  position,  except  so  much  as  relates  to  the  metaphor  of  "God's  build- 
ing," and  the  inferences  he  draws  from  it,  I  have  nothing  to  object.  By  this 
figure  God's  people  are  represented  as  compacted,  or  builded  together,  under  the 
idea  of  a  spiritual  house,  or  holy  temple.  This  is  God's  building.  He  is  its 
originator  and  proprietor ;  and  it  rests  on  Jesus  Christ  as  its  foundation.  This, 
by  the  grace  of  God,  Paul  had  laid  at  Corinth.  He  had  preached  Christ  there, 
and  thus  founded  the  Cliurch — God's  holy  temple;  he  then  left  it  for  others  to 
proceed  with  the  building,  but  with  the  caution,  "Let  every  man  take  heed  how  he 
buildeth  thereujion."  What  authority  has  jNIr.  Hall  for  saying  that  viinistcrs 
only  are  the  builders  here  cautioned— that  in  that  discussion  the  apostle  says 
not  one  word  of  any  work  or  labour  performed  by  any  but  ministers  ?  Are  not 
ministers  as  really  a  part  of  God's  building  as  the  laity?  Are  not  the  latter  as 
really,  though  not  as  prominently,  co-workers  with  God  as  the  former  ?  This  is  con- 
fessedly true,  and  for  this  reason  (commentators  to  the  contrary  notwithstanding) 
it  must  accord  with  Paul's  representation.  He  says,  "If  any  man  build  on  this 
foundation,"  while  Mr.  Hall  says,  "any  minister."  Nor  can  we  see  why  Paul 
does  not  mean  "precious  stones,"  instead  of  "valuable  stones,  such  as  are  fit  for 
building  purposes."  Arc  gold  and  silver  any  more  fit  for  building  purposes  than 
precious  stones?  and  yet  they  are  first  named,  as  if  principally  used  in  the 
building.  It  is  not  a  common  stone-house  of  which  Paul  speaks,  but  a  holy 
temple,  the  materials  of  which  are  represented  by  things  most  valuable  and 
precious. 

"But  what  arc  we  to  understand  by  these  metaphors?"  is  the  main  question. 
Mr.  Hall,  consistently  enough  with  his  restriction  respecting  co-workers  with 
God,  but  not  with  the  scope  and  design  of  the  apostle,  thinks  that  only  persons 
are  meant, — that  "gohl,  silver,  precious  stones"  represent  real  Christians,  and 
"wood,  hay,  stubble,"  false  professors;  and  that  nothing  else  is  included. 
A  few  objections  to  this  view  will  show  its  fallacy.  1.  It  excludes  all  minis- 
ters from  "God's  building;"  that  is,  from  the  temple  or  Church  of  Christ. 
They  are  workmen,  and  as  such  no  part  of  the  materials  of  the  building.  2.  It 
confines  to  ministers  this  whole  matter  of  reward  and  loss,  and  at  the  same 
time  makes  it  consist  only  in  the  satisfaction  derived  from  "  turning  many  to 
righteousness,"  and  the  disappointment  and  sorrow  of  seeing  converts  so 
spurious  or  unfuithful  as  to  be  "burned  up  "  at  last.  3.  It  holds  the  minister 
responsible  for  the  character  of  his  converts ;  for  he  only  is  the  subject  of 
row.ard  and  loss.  4.  AVliile  it  confines  the  reward  and  loss  to  the  minister,  and 
holds  him  responsible  for  the  character  of  his  converts,  it  applies  the  test — the 
"fire" — to  the  converts  themselves.  Hear  Mr.  Hall :  "This  house,  as  a  whole, 
and  ever}'  builder's  part  in  particular,  is  to  be  inspected.  The  gospel,  or  the 
preaching  of  the  gospel,  including  both  public  and  private  teaching,  with  all  the 
means  which  a  minister  uses  in  the  prosecution  of  his  work,  are  his  implements 
— his  tools.    These  arc  not  in  this  discussion  considered  as  his  work.     His  work 


1853.]  Miscellanies.  593 

is  seen  as  a  result,  and  as  such  it  will  be  subjected  to  the  test.  To  speak  meta- 
phorically, the  building  is  designed  to  ha  Jirc-proof;  and  the  test  must  be  applied 
to  the  materials  which  compose  it,  and  not  to  the  implements  -with  which  the 
labourers  wrouj^ht."  Here  the  materials — the  converts— arc  spoken  of  as  if 
mere  inanimate  matter,  capable  of  standing  the  fire,  or  of  being  burned  up,  but 
in  no  other  sense  the  subjects  of  reward  or  loss  ;  and,  indeed,  as  utterly'  irrespon- 
sible as  gold,  silver,  or  precious  stones.  But  the  builder — the  minister — is  re- 
sponsible ;  is  to  receive  reward,  or  suffer  loss,  according  as  he  has  erected  a 
fire-proof  building  or  otherwise.  Yet  this  reward  or  loss  is  in  no  sen.ie  positive, 
but  merely  relative  ;  the  increase  or  diminution  of  satisfaction  arising  from  the 
success  or  failure  of  his  building,  o.  I'aul's  rule  is,  reward  according  to  labour ; 
Mr.  Hall's,  according  to  success.  "If  any  man's  work  abide,"  &-c. ;  that  is,  says 
Mr.  Hall,  if  any  minister  "  turn  many  to  righteousness,"  and  they  are  saved,  he 
shall  receive  a  reward  ;  and  the  reverse.  But  Paul  says  every  man  shall  receive 
his  own  reward  according  to  his  own  labour.  If  he  labour  as  a  co-worker  with 
God,  and  if  men  are  perverse,  and  will  neither  hear  nor  heed  ;  or  if,  after  con- 
verts "run  well"  for  a  season,  they  become  "weary  in  well-doing,"  he  is  not  to 
lose  his  reward. 

The  above  sentiments  are  fairly  attributable  to  Mr.  Hall's  exposition,  but  they 
vary  widely  from  the  sense  of  the  text.  I  will  not,  however,  seek  to  invalidate 
one  exposition  without  attempting  a  better.  The  Corinthians  evidently  took 
wrong  views,  both  of  their  ministers  and  of  themselves.  Of  the  former  they  ex- 
pected too  much,  while  they  failed  to  recognise  their  own  responsibility.  In 
correcting  these  errors,  I'aul  shows  that  their  ministers,  as  to  any  abstract 
abilitv,  were  "  nothing," — that  though  he  planted  and  ApoUos  watered,  God  only 
gave  the  increase,  while  themselves,  as  to  purpose  or  aim,  were  '-one." 
Attention  is  thus  turned  from  the  instruments  to  the  great  efficient  Cause,  as 
a  means  of  healing  their  schisms.  Then,  to  inculcate  a  sense  of  responsibility, 
he  teaches,— you  are  of  the  Church,  "  God's  building."  Of  this  Jesus  Christ  is 
the  foundation,  which  I  have  laid.  I  have  preached  Christ  to  you,  and  of  you 
have  founded  the  Church  at  Coriuth.  I  now  leave  it  for  others  to  build  on  this 
foundation :  and  every  one  of  you  may  be  a  builder — a  co-worker  with  God — 
may  be  used  as  an  instrument  in  rearing  this  building,  and  as  such  may  receive 
a  reward  according  to  your  labour.  Added  to  this  is  the  caution,  "  Let  every 
man  take  heed  how  he  buildeth  thereupon,"  which  i.s  enforced,  not  only  by  the 
promise  of  reward,  but  also  by  the  admonition,  "The  fire  shall  try  every  man's 
work,  of  what  sort  ii  is." 

"Take  heed," — cease  to  listen  to  the  perversions  of  false  teachers,  and  to 
be  srdit  up  about  your  ministers;  and  bo  no  longer  enervated  and  corrupted 
by  carnal  indulgences.  On  the  contrary,  believe  in  Christ,  and  build  your  faith 
and  hopes  on  him  as  the  only  sure  foundation.  Then  recognise  and  cultivate  a 
sense  of  personal  responsibility;  co-work  with  God,  and  thus  seek  to  do  good. 
You  will  thus  become  a  spiritual,  useful  people,  instead  of  what  your  are — a 
carnal,  divided,  feeble  people. 

The  alwve  is  the  sum  of  the  apostle's  caution,  which  is  enforced  by  the  fol- 
lowing motives : — 1.  God,  whose  is  the  building,  and  who  employs  human  instru- 
mentalities in  its  erection,  will  own  your  pious  labours,  and  crown  them  with 
"increase,"  and  then  give  a  reward,  not  according  to  the  increase,  but  to  the 
labour.  AVhethcr  men  hear  or  forbear,  is  witli  themselves.  So,  likewise,  with 
genuine  converts ;  if  they  do  not  endure  to  the  end,  they  must  answer.  Labour 
and  rcv\  ard  is  yours.     Meet  your  responsibilities  in  your  own  proper  sphere  as  a 


594  Miscellanies.  [October, 

minister  or  layman,  believe  in  Christ,  and  co-vrork  with  God, — and  beyond  tliis  you 
have  no  account  to  render.  Your  "  labour  "  is  to  be  the  measure  of  your  reward, 
not  your  success,  only  so  far  as  your  failures  arc  your  fault.  2.  "  Take  heed," 
— build  on  Christ,  and  co-work  with  God,  seek  the  divine  impress,  and  to  meet 
your  responsibilities  ;  and  do  all  in  view  of  a  severe  scrutiny  ;  for  "  the  fire  shall 
try  every  man's  work,  of  what  sort  it  is."  Not  only  every  minister's,  but  every 
man's ;  that  is,  each  individual's  work  is  to  be  tried.  If  it  does  not  bear  the 
test ;  if  he  has  so  far  lust  sight  of  the  only  foundation,  and  of  his  personal 
responsibility,  as  to  remain  carnal  and  feeble,  a  mere  "  babe  in  Christ,"  when 
be  should  have  been  "  strong  in  the  Lord,"  "he  shall  suffer  loss."  He  is  in 
Christ,  and  so  shall  be  saved;  "yet  so  as  by  fire:"  like  him  who  barely  escapes 
with  his  life,  while  his  house  and  its  contents  are  "  burned  up." 

The  following,  among  many  others  that  might  be  cited,  are  cases  in  point:  A 
Tiomanist  builds  on  Christ,  and  is  saved  ;  but  is  barely  rescued  from  the  ruins 
of  that  apostate  Church.  The  system  to  which  he  subscribed,  and  his  associa- 
tions, prevent  his  doing  any  good,  or  becoming  other  than  a  babe  in  Christ.  All 
is  gone,  "  burned  up,"  but  simply  himself. 

Again:  a  Christian  laiJses  into  worldliness,  so  that  his  character  and  life 
exhibit  the  lowest  Christian  model:  he  falls  and  rises,  sins  and  repents,  but  is 
finally  saved;  "yet  so  as  by  tire."  He  not  only  did  no  good,  but  much  harm, — 
was  a  heavy  weight  and  a  stumbling-block, — his  life  wasted,  talents  buried, 
capacities  undeveloped,  so  that  he  must  sutYer  the  loss  of  all,  but  his  own  rescue 
from  the  burning  tlamcs  of  merited  wrath. 

Once  more:  a  man  resists  the  convictions  of  truth  and  duty  all  his  life.  He 
neither  builds  on  Christ  nor  co-works  with  God,  but  gives  his  whole  influence  to 
the  spread  of  error  and  the  ruin  of  souls,  but  finally  believes  in  Christ,  and  is 
saved  ;  "  yet  so  as  by  f-re."  Leyond  a  bare  deliverance,  he  has  neither  developed 
capacity  nor  title  to  reward;  but  time,  capabilities,  and  influence,  are  all  gone — 
everything  "burned  up"  but  himself. 

What,  then,  is  represented  by  "gold,  silver,  precious  stones?"  We  answer, 
Not  }.crso7is  nor  doctrines,  as  such,  but  the  aggregate  of  Christian  character  and 
injluence.  If  a  man  builds  on  Christ,  and  co-works  with  God,  the  result  is  a 
renewed  heart  and  an  upright  life.  'Without  the  former,  capacity  is  not  devel- 
oped ;  and  without  tlie  latter,  no  salutary  influence  is  exerted :  the  former  makes 
future  enjoyment  possible,  and  the  latter  gives  title  to  it.  The  "  works  "  which 
issue  from  a  devout,  sanctified  heart,  will  "abide," — will  not  "burn  up,"  will 
receive  "  reu-ard."  The  "  increase,"  in  such  case,  will  be  modified  by  the  capa- 
bilities, zeal,  circumstances,  and  the  extent  to  which  efforts  are  resisted.  But 
as  character  and  pious  labour  shall  bear  the  test  of  the  "  fire,"  so  will  the  reward 
be  measured.  Fo,  on  the  other  hand,  "  wood,  hay,  stubble,"  represent  erroneous 
views,  and  a  consequent  weak  faith  and  faltering  life.  The  result  is  small 
developments  of  capacity,  and  little  or  no  co-labour  with  God,  to  entitle  to 
reward.  "  Loss,"  therefore,  must  be  suffered  in  the  same  ratio,  and  that  by  the 
burning,  searching  fire  of  scrutiny,  that  will  sit  in  judgment  on  both  heart  and 
life. 

G.  R.  S>-YDER. 


1853.]  Short  Reviews  and  Notices  of  Books.  595 


Art.  VIIL— short  KEVTEWS  AND  NOTICES  OF  BOOKS. 

(1.)  "  y/ie  Life  of  Alfred  the  Great"  forms  the  latest  volume  of  Bohii's 
Antiquarian  Library.  (Xew-York  :  Banjos,  lirotlicr  &  Co.,  13  Park  Kow.) 
It  is  a  translation  from  the  German  of  Dr.  11.  Pauli,  who  has  gone  to  the  sources 
of  information  and  mastereil  them,  ■svith  true  German  research.  The  charac- 
ter of  Alfred  is  one  of  the  mo~t  remarkable  in  all  history;  and  this  book  aifords 
the  best  view  of  it  that  has  yet  ajipoared  in  English.  Appended  to  the  life 
is  given  the  AngloSaxon  vei-sion  of  Orosius,  commonly  attributed  to  Altred, 
•with  the  literal  English  translation,  and  an  Anglo-Saxon  alphabet,  glossar}-,  and 
outline  of  grammar ;  so  that  the  book  aflbnls  a  very  good  manual  for  be- 
ginners in  Anglo-Saxon. 


(2.)  "  The  Old  House  l>j  the  River"  (New- York:  Harper  &  Brothers  ;  1853  ; 
18mo.,  pp.  3 IS)  contains  a  number  of  sketches  of  nature,  Hfe,  and  manners, 
very  beautiful  in  style  and  finish.  The  tone  of  the  work  is  healthful  rather 
than  sentimental ;  it  is  pervaded  by  a  fresh  and  genial  feeling  of  sympathy 
"for  man,  and  woman,  and  sun,  and  moon,  and  stars  throughout  the  year." 


(3.)  Messrs.  Blaxciiard  &  Lka,  of  Philadelpliia,  have  issued  a  new  edition 
of"  Phjsical  Genrjraphy,  by  Mary  Somf.rville,"  (1 2mo.,  pp.  570.)  The  work 
is  so  well  known  that  it  is  only  necessary  for  us  to  say  that  this  edition  is 
taken  from  the  third  and  la-t  Eondon  edition;  and  that  the  American  editor 
has  made  many  valuable  additions. 


(4.)  ^'Father  GacazzPs  Lectures  in  Xcic-York;  also  the  Life  of  Father 
Gavazzi,  corrected  and  authorized  by  himself."  (New-York :  Dewitt  &  Daven- 
port;  1853;  12mo.,  pp.  299.)  It  might  be  inferred  from  the  title-page  that 
the  lectures  contained  in  this  volume  arc  published  under  the  authority  of 
Gavazzi ;  but  he  has  expressly  disclaimed  them,  as  being  so  imperfect  and 
inaccurate  as  to  present  a  mere  caricature  of  what  he  did  say.  Only  the 
biofn-aphy  was  revised  by  himself:  and  this  may  be  relied  upon  as  a  fair  and 
truthful  account  of  the  eventful  career  of  the  iLiliau  priest  and  patriot. 


(5.)  '•'■  Autuhiorjraphj  of  Ilea.  James  B.  Finleij ;  or,  Pioneer  Life  in  the  West, 
edited  by  W.  V.  Stkickland,  1).  D.,"  (Cincinnati:  Methodist  Book  Con- 
cern •  1853;  r2mo.,  i)p.  455,)  is  a  book  full  of  the  stirring  incident  that  char- 
acterizes every  truthful  record  of  American  frontier  life.  It  is  among  the 
manv  wonderful  phenomena  of  this  country's  history,  that  the  man  is 
yet  I'ivin"  ami  lalx)urlng,  who  was  himself  one  of  the  pioneers  in  the  coloniza- 
tion of  the  AVest—now  the  West  no  longer ;  for  the  region  over  which  3Ir. 


596  Short  Revieivs  and  Notices  of  Books.         [October, 

Finley's  graphic  narrative  carries  bis  delighted  readers  is  now  the  abode 
of  a  vast  population,  and  supplies,  of  itself,  large  numbers  of  adventurous 
spirits,  who  go  out  in  search  of  that  ever-receding  "  West."  Mr.  Finlej-'s 
account  of  his  father's  adventurous  career,  as  a  settler  and  pastor  in  Kentucky 
and  Ohio,  and  of  his  own  life  in  the  woods,  has  all  the  interest  of  romance. 
He  tells  his  story  in  a  simple  and  straight-forward  style,  which  carries  one 
inevitably  along  with  the  narrative.  Besides  the  history  of  Mr.  Finley's 
early  life,  and  of  his  ministry  in  the  ]\Iethodist  Episcopal  Church,  the  work 
contains  memorials  of  Asbury,  ]M'Kondree,  Young,  Finley,  (I.  P.,)  Christie, 
and  of  the  two  Wyandott  chiefs,  Manuncue  and  Botween-the-logs.  The  "  old 
chief"  tells  us  at  the  close  of  the  volume  that  he  has  "  many  reminiscences 
concerning  the  Indians  that  have  never  yet  been  published."  We  trust  that  he 
•will  not  abandon  the  pen  until  his  whole  stock  is  exhausted.  We  engage  to 
read  all  the  books  he  may  write,  and  that  our  children  will  read  them  too. 
At  the  same  time,  we  hope  tliat  lie  v.ill  omit  all  ill-authenticated  or  borrowed 
stories,  like  those  of  "  Peter  Cartwright,"  and  "  The  ISlissionary  and  the  Fiob- 
ber,"  in  his  present  volume. 


(6.)  ''Class-looh  of  Phj$lology,  by  B.  N.  Comings,  M.  D.,  (IXew-York: 
D.  Appleton  &  Co.;  18or.;  12mo.,  pp.  270.)  is  an  admirable  text-book,  for  the 
use  of  schools  and  families,  on  the  structure  and  functions  of  the  organs  of 
the  human  body.  Illustrated  by  comparative  reference  to  those  of  inferior 
animals.    It  is  largely  illustrated  by  steel  and  wood  engravings. 


(7.)  "  The  liomance  of  Ahclard  mid  Hdo'ise,  by  0.  W.  Wight,"  (New-York: 
I>.  Appleton  &  Co.;  r2mo.,  pp.  2GC,)  gives  a  story  whose  hold  upon  human 
interest  never  Hags.  It  has  been  told  over  and  over  again,  iu  every  language, 
and  in  almost  every  form  of  prose  and  verse ;  and  yet  every  new  recital  of  it 
is  listened  to  with  avidity.  Mr.  Wight's  style  is  too  florid  and  ambitious  for 
a  narrative  which  is  so  full  of  all  stimulants  to  human  feeling  as  to  need  no 
adventitious  aids :  such  a  talc  is  best  told  simply. 


(8.)  *^  Narrative  of  a  Journey  round  the  World,  by  F.  Gerst-F,cker,"  (New- 
York:  Harper  &  Brothers;  1853;  r3mo.,  pp.  623,)  is  a  true  world-journey, 
by  a  man  of  cosmopolitan  sympathies,  and  fine  powers  of  observation  and 
description.  Sailing  from  Bremen  he  landed  at  Rio,  sailed  thence  for  Buenos 
Ayres,  crossed  the  Cordilleras  in  winter,  suffered  more  than  the  traveller's 
usual  hardships  In  Cliili,  reached  San  Francisco  at  the  time  of  its  greatest  fever 
of  excitement,  tried  the  gold-diggings  and  failed,  sailed  for  the  South-Sea 
Islands,  and  luxuriated  among  thorn  for  a  while,  thence  to  Australia,  and 
finally  to  Java,  with  a  vivid  description  of  which  island  his  adventurous  story 
closes.  The  narrative  is  somewhat  long-winded;  but  by  the  incident  with 
■which   it  abounds,  the  unfailing  goo<l-humour  of  the  writer,  and  the  clear 


1853.]  Short  Reviews  and  Notices  of  Books.  597 

perceptive  faculty  that  everywhere  shows  itself,  its  interest  is  kept  up  throujjh- 
out  the  sLk  hundred  pages.  It  is  our  duty  to  say,  however,  that  the  writer's 
moral  tone  is  not  always  unexceptionable. 


(9.)  "  The  Pc'hstrian  in  France  and  Switzerland,  by  Gkorgk  Baiihel,  Jr.," 
(Xew-York:  G.P.Putnam  &  Co.;  1853;  12mo.,pp.  312,)  is  an  unprctcn.iuig 
account  of  a  foot-journey  through  by-ways  in  France  Into  Switzerland.  The 
writer  is  unskilled  in  authovcraft;  but  his  book  is  interestint;  in  spile  of 
its  clumsiness,  because  its  track  is  so  far  out  of  the  common  way  as  to  jirojcnt 
many  novelties. 

(10.)  ^^  Memorials  of  the  Enr/Ush  Martyrs,  by  the  Rev.  C.  B.  Taylok," 
(New- York:  Harper  &  Brothers;  1853  ;  12mo.,  pp.  395,)  describes  the  chief 
localities  of  the  English  martyrdoms  as  they  were  and  as  they  are;  and  gruups 
narratives  and  retlectlons  around  those  memorable  spots.  Works  of  this  clci-i 
cannot  be  too  widely  multiplied,  now  that  Rome  is  making  so  de.'^perate  a 
struggle  to  regain  her  fonxier  political  ascendency  throughout  the  world ;  while, 
at  the  same  time,  with  a  boldness  springing  cither  from  despair  or  from  as- 
surance, she  tells  the  world  that  her  former  bloody  maxims  are  yet  in  force- 


(11.)  "  Civil  Wars  and  jSfonarchy  in  France  in  the  Sixteenth  and  Seventeenth 
Centiirief:,  by  Leopold  Raxke."  (New- York :  Harper  &  Brothers;  185;5; 
12mo.,  pp.  4S4.)  The  well-known  moderation  and  judgment  of  Ranke  fit 
him  well  for  writing  the  history  of  a  period  abounding  in  strifes  of  religion  as 
well  as  of  party.  The  present  work  is  divided  into  six  books,  of  which  tlio 
first  two  treat  of  the  earlier  epochs  of  French  history,  up  to  1550.  This  part 
of  the  work  is,  in  fact,  a  scries  of  dissertations,  and  recpiires  for  its  compre- 
hension a  pretty  good  knowledge  of  the  facts  of  the  history  beforehand.  The 
best  part  of  the  work,  as  might  be  expected  from  Ranke,  is  found  in  the 
books  which  treat  of  the  rise  and  progress  of  Protestantism  in  Franec, 
in  which  a  large  view  is  taken  of  that  hopeless  iutemiixture  of  political  with 
religious  questions,  which  hindered  the  wide  diffusion  of  Protestantism  in  tluit 
countiy.  As  a  whole,  the  work  is  a  valuable  contribution  to  political  and 
ecclesiastical  history. 


(12.)  Mere  speculations  about  heaven  are  entirely  worthless,  and  even  worse. 
But  Scriptural  inquiries  into  the  future  life— its  nature,  its  abodes,  its  L>!i-^— 
are  among  the  most  delightful  and  profitable  studies  to  which  tlie  (.  Ini-turi 
mind  can  apply  itself.  In  this  stirring  and  materialistic  age  wc  dwell  t<»  l.'.iic 
tipon  these  ennobling  themes — 

.     ..."  The  world  is  too  much  with  us ; 

Oettinj  and  spending  we  lay  waste  our  powers. 

We  are  glad,  therefore,  to  welcome  such  a  book  as  "  The  U.-arcuht  Ihmc,  by 

Rev.  H.  Harbaugh,  A.  M."     (Philadelphia:  Lindsay  cSc  Blakiston;  1853; 


598  Short  Revicivs  and  Notices  of  Books.       [October, 

pp.  8G4.)  This  volume  first  states  the  uotions  of  heavenly  happiness  that 
have  prevailed  among  Pagans,  showing  the  natural  and  traditional  yearninfrs 
of  the  race  for  a  better  land.  The  Scripture  view  of  heaven  is  then  set  forth 
■n-ith  much  beauty  and  clearness,  and  at  the  same  time  in  a  spirit  of  earnest 
reverence.  "V^'e  do  not  agree  Avith  all  the  author's  positions,  but  heartily  com- 
mend his  book  as  calculated  to  stir  up  Christian  souls  to  better  and  purer 
meditations,  by  fixing  their  thoughts  upon  the  "many  mansions"  of  their 
Father's  house. 


(13.)  The  attention  of  the  world  has  been  called  to  the  arrest  and  punish- 
ment of  Professor  Gervinus,  in  tiie  Grand-duchy  of  Baden,  for  the  publication 
of  an  historical  essay,  forming  part  of  a  work  on  which  he  has  been  long  engaged. 
It  is  now  published  in  English,  under  the  title,  ''Introduction  to  the  Hh'ory 
of  the  Nineteenth  Century:'  (London :  II.  G.  Kohn.  New- York :  Bangs 
Brother  &  Co.;  18mo..  pp.  137.)  The  object  of  the  treatise  is  to  establish 
and  illustrate  the  true  law  of  historical  development,  namely,  that  from  oriental 
despotism  down  to  the  states  of  modern  Europe,  a  regular  progress  mav  be 
perceived  from  the  freedom  of  one  alone  to  that  of  the /tR-,  and  then  of  the 
many.  The  application  of  this  law  shows  that  the  tendencies  of  the  times  in 
every  European  state  arc  inevitably  democratic.  Hinc  illcc  lachrymie.  The 
treatise  abounds  in  large  views  of  history  and  polities,  and  we  hope  it  will  be 
■widely  read  in  America. 


(14.)  Wk  have  received  the  first  part  (containing  Genesis)  of  ]\Ir.  Blacka- 
UKii's  edition  of  '•  The  Knylish  Bih'.e."  (London  :  R.  B.  Blaekader ;  small  4to.) 
It  is  published  on  the  same  plan  as  the  "  Chronological  New  Testament,"  of 
which  we  gave  our  readers  so  favourable  an  account  some  time  since ;  but 
with  some  decided  improvements,  which  make  it,  in  all  respects,  the  best  and 
most  convenient  edition  of  the  Sacred  Word,  for  daily  reading,  that  we  have 
yet  seen.  Its  main  features  are  the  following: — 1.  The  text  is  divided  into 
sections  and  paragraphs,  witli  appropriate  headings,  dates,  historical  memoran- 
da, &c.,  prefixed  to  each  ;  2.  The  most  important  parallel  jmssages  are  quoted 
at  length  in  the  margin  ;  3.  The  poetical  books,  and  all  poetical  quotations,  are 
printed  in  rythmical  Ibrm.  There  is  also  a  brief,  condensed  coiumrntary, 
containing  the  subsUinee  of  the  best  commentators— especially  the  German — 
used,  however,  with  nice  discrimination;  and  putting  the  reader  in  posse;^-ion 
of  the  latest  discoveries— geographical,  historical,  or  other.  The  work  is  k-au- 
tifully  printed,  and  deserves  to  be  circulated  in  this  country.  "We  advise  our 
readers,  who  can  allbrd  the  exi)cnse,  to  import  the  work  through  Mes-srs.  Carl- 
ton &  Phillips. 


(15.)  "  WrUinys  of  Professor  B.  B.  Edimrds,  with  a  Memoir,  by  Prof,  ssor 
E.  A.  Pakk."  (Boston:  Jewett  &  Co.;  2  vols.,  12mo.)  Though  this  work 
has  been  some  time  published,  our  copy,  by  some  mishap,  has  reached  us  so 
late  that  we  can  only  announce  it  to  our  readers. 


1853.]  Shoit  Reviews  and  Notices  of  Books.  599 

(16.)  ^'Journal  of  the  Rev.  Francis  Asbury,  Bishop  of  the  Methodist  Episco- 
pal Church."  (New- York:  Carlton  &  rhillips;  3  vols.,  12mo.)  lu  the  lan- 
guage of  Mr.  HoUingswortli,  wlio  transcribod  most  of  Bishop  Asbury's  Journals 
for  the  press,  "  the  identity  of  Bishop  Asbury  in  the  commencement,  con- 
tinuance, and  the  wonderful  increase  of  Methodism  in  this  country,  -vvill  give 
a  perpetuity  of  interest  in  the  record  here  oHered,  which  nothing  else  can 
give."  The  Journals  have  long  been  out  of  print.  The  edition  now  ollered 
is  far  better  than  the  old  one  :  the  dates  have  been  carefully  collated  and  rec- 
tified, and  a  careful  index  to  the  three  volumes  is  given  at  the  end.  In  these 
volumes  will  be  found  the  beginnings  (almost)  of  the  history  of  ^Methodism  in 
America;  and,  as  such,  their  value  is  incalculable  to  the  Church.  But  as  a 
record  of  apostolic  zeal  and  fidelity,  of  a  spirit  of  self-sacrifice  rivalling  that  of 
the  saints  and  martyrs  of  the  early  Church,  of  an  industry  which  no  toils  could 
■weary,  of  a  patience  which  no  privations  could  exhaust,  it  is  full  of  interest  to 
every  minister  of  the  gospel,  and  to  every  Christian.  We  trust  that  it  will  find 
its  way  into  the  library  of  every  minister,  aud  of  every  family  among  us,  that 
can  aiTord  the  low  price  at  which  it  is  furnished. 


(17.)  "  Hisiori/  of  the  Reformation  of  the  Sirlecnth  Century,  Vol.  F. —  The 
Reformation  in  England,  by  J.  II.  ^Mfrle  D'Aurigxe."  (New- York  :  R. 
Carter  &  Brothers;  12mo.,  pp.  518.)  The  unparalleled  success  of  Dr.  Merle's 
previous  volumes,  containing  a  history  of  the  Reformation  in  Germany  and 
Switzerland,  was  due,  not  so  much  to  any  special  value  in  his  labours  in  the 
way  of  originality  of  research  into  the  sources  of  history,  or,  in  fact,  to  origin- 
ality of  any  kind,  as  to  the  graphic  descriptive  power  of  the  writer,  and  the 
dramatic  style  of  his  narrative,  combined  with  a  thorough  sympathy  with 
the  spirit  of  modern  Protestantism,  eveti  in  its  extreme  forms.  Tlie  fifdi 
volume  will  hardly  reach  the  same  popularity.  The  field  is  one  not  «o  familiar 
to  the  writer;  and  he  has  not  had  access  to  books  working  up  the  materials 
so  thoroughly  as  those  which  gave  him  so  much  assistance  in  his  former  vol- 
umes. He  has,  nevertheless,  produced  a  work  thus  far  of  great  value;  and 
especially  of  value  in  the  present  crisis  of  Pi-otestautism,  both  In  England  and 
in  the  United  States.  It  shows  anew  for  this  generation  tliat  Popery  is  any- 
thing rather  than  an  exclusively  spiritual  power;  and  that  "it  is  it^  very  life 
and  soul  to  pass  beyond  the  boundaries  of  religion,  and  to  enter  into  the  fields 
of  policy."  It  shows  that  the  English  Reformation  was  not,  as  tin-  Papist-s 
assert,  a  political,  but  a  religious  transformation ;  and  that  the  Popedom, 
"  agitated  by  wholly  political  interests,  broke  of  itself  the  chain  with  wliich  it 
had  so  long  bound  England."  On  these,  and  many  other  account-,  we  hope 
that  this  fifth  volume  may  be  as  widely  circulated  as  those  which  preceded  it; 
in  fact,  it  better  deserves  circulation. 


(18.)  The  second  and  third  parts  of  "  3/e?/rr's  Universum,  vol.  ii,"  (New- 
York:  Hermann  J.  ^Meyer,)  conLiin  views  of  Passaic  Falls,  Lake  ^lanagua, 
(in  Central  America,)  the  Chapel  of  Mary  of  the  Snow,  (on  tiie  Rigl,)  the 


600  Short  Reviews  and  Notices  of  Books.         [October, 

great  Cathedral  in  ]\Iag.loburg,the  Genesee  Falls.  (Rochester,)  the  Barborigo 
PaLace,  (Venice,)  the  Lake  of  Lowertz,  (in  Switzerland,)  and  of  Harper's 
Ferry,  (Virginia.)  The  letter-prcss  descriptions  are  by  C.  A.  Dana,  Junius 
Frbbel,  and  others ;  and  strike  us  as  much  better  and  less  pretentious  than 
those  of  the  first  volume.  Taken  as  a  whole,  this  is  the  best  scries  of  illustra- 
tions for  its  price  (twenty-five  cents  a  number)  that  has  cverappeared  in  America. 
The  same  publisher  has  commenced  a  new  and  beautiful  series  on  a  lai-ger 
scale,  entitled  "  T/te  UnUed  Slates  IlluMrated,  in  Vieics  of  Cihj  and  Couiiin/." 
Tvhich  -will  aim  to  lay  before  the  American  people  "  faithful  and  sj)iritcd  illus- 
ti-ations  of  what  is  characteristic  in  the  scenery  and  memorable  in  the  public 
buildings  of  all  parts  of  the  country.  It  is  in  quarto  fonn,  and  sold  at  fifty 
cents  the  number,  each  containing  four  finely-engraved  views.  The  parts 
thus  far  issued  contains  specimens  of  really  high  art,  and  the  letter-press  de- 
scriptions are  excellent.     The  work  is  every  way  worthy  of  national  patronage. 


(19.)  ^'Practical  Drawlnrj-Booh  for  Schools  and  SeJf-InMruction,  by  SiGls- 
MOND  ScuusTKU,  rrofossor  of  Drawing."  (New-York:  Xe^rman  &  Ivison : 
1853.)  This  work  contains  an  historical  sketch  of  the  art  of  painting,  not  of 
much  value.  It  has  great  merit,  however,  in  the  series  of  lessons,  beginning 
with  simple  lines,  and  geometrical  figures,  and  going  on  to  flowers,  landscapes, 
animals,  and  ornamental  drawings,  with  clear  and  useful  instructions  for  imi- 
tation.    The  work  is  got  up  in  very  good  style. 


(20.)  Wk  do  not  remember  ever  to  have  imagined  that  a  mere  "critical 
notice"  in  a  contemporary  journal  could  give  us  pain,  or  excite  us  to  anger; 
but  a  notice  of'  The  Life  and  Letters  of  Stephen  0/in,  D.  D."  (New- York: 
Harper  &  Bothers;  2  voLs.,  Timo,)  in  the  Christian  Examiner,  of  Boston,  ha.s 
done  both.  The  writer  speaks  of  Dr.  Olin,  and  characterizes  the  biographv 
as  follows : — 

"  IrYe  have  here  an  adequate  memorial,  not  of  a  man  great  or  remarkable  in 
any  particular,  but  of  one  who  had  the  distinction  of  goodness,  and  who  deserves 
the  praise  of  devoted  usefulness.  The  record  of  his  early  and  of  his  college  life, 
the  sketch  of  his  ministerial  labours  in  dift'ereut  regions  of  this  Union,  his 
journals  and  k-tters  wliilc  abroad,  and  his  services  to  the  literary  institution 
over  whieli  he  presided,  warrant  the  expressions  of  regard  for  him  from  friends, 
which  are  given  in  these  volumes.  We  remember  to  have  met  with  hiui  in 
Italy,  while  he  was  struggling,  as  he  did  for  years,  with  feeble  health,  and  to 
have  been  jileasantly  impressed  by  his  sensible  remarks  on  various  subjects, 
and  by  his  unpretending  bearing.  Such  memorials  of  men  who,  after  all,  do 
the  real  v,ork  of  a  Cliristian  life  more  effectively  than  do  those  of  more  shining 
endowments,  are  of  value  in  quickening  the  right  spirit,  and  in  showing  the 
way  of  right  effort  to  uU  sympathizing  readers." 

We  do  not  hesitate  to  say  that  the  man  who  could  write  and  ])rint  a  piece  of 
criticism  like  this  should  not  be  trusted  to  write  in  the  pages  of  a  respectable 
journal.  Either  he  had  read  the  Life  and  AVorks  of  Dr.  Olin,  or  he  had  not. 
If  he  had  read  them,  what  he  has  written  stamps  him  as  an  imbecile  ;  if  he  had 
not,  as  carelessly  indifferent  to  a  great  man's  reputation.     He  probably  be- 


1853.]  Short  Reviexus  and  Notices  of  Books.  601 

longs  to  tbat  clique  in  and  about  Boston,  which  has  been  aptly  called  the 
•'Mutual  Admiration  Society;"  and  can  sec  no  "shining  endowments"  except 
as  reflected  from  a  Boston  looking-glass,  or  as  displayed  in  attacking  the  Teri- 
ties  of  Christianity  by  diluted  doses  of  borrowed  infidelity,  published  ever)- 
two  months  in  tlie  "  Christian  Examiner." 

"  No  place  so  sacred  from  such  fops  is  barred, 

Nor  is  Paul's  Church  more  safe  than  Paul's  church-yard; 

Nay,  fly  to  altars,  there  they  '11  talk  you  dead ; 

For  fools  rush  in  where  angels  fear  to  tread." 

^Ye  hope  to  furnish  in  our  next  number  an  extended  article  on  Dr.  Olin. 


(21.)  The  latest  product  of  the  "Spiritual"  laboratory  is  a  volume  of 
"  Discourses  from  the  SpirIt-"\Vorld,"  (New-York :  Partridge  &  Brittan ; 
pp.  197,)  professing  to  be  dictated  by  Stephen'  Olix,  through  Eev.  R.  P. 
Wilson,  who  calls  himself  a  "writing  medium."  Mr.  Wilson  tolls  us  that  the 
work  was  commenced  "  by  the  request  of  the  spiritual  author,"  and  that  "  the 
process  of  writing  was  by  the  influx  of  the  communications  while  the  mind 
remained  in  a  passive  state ;  and  at  the  same  time  the  hand  was  controlled  to 
write  according  to  the  dictation."  Dr.  Olin  is  made  to  treat  of  various  im- 
portant topics  in  this  way, — such  as  the  Jlinistry  of  Angels,  the  Kingdom  of 
God  in  Man,  the  Origin  and  End  of  Evil,  Education,  Immortality,  &c.;  and 
on  all  of  them  it  appears  that  his  views  arc  greatly  changed  from  what  they 
were  while  he  was  upon  earth.  lie  no  longer  believes  the  Bible  to  be  divinely 
inspired  in  any  special  sense.  He  formerly  held  St.  Paul  to  be  an  inspired 
apostle ;  now  he  speaks  of  him  as  "  Paul,  a  distinguished  Christian  reformer, 
who  flourished  in  the  first  century  of  the  Christian  era."  While  on  earih,  his 
main  theme  of  preaching  was  the  atoning  sacrifice  of  Christ :  now  he  holds  that 
doctrine  to  be  "  revolting "  and  "  cruel."  Ho  formerly  warned  men,  with 
earnestness  and  tears,  of  the  wrath  of  God  :  now  he  knows  that  God  never  was 
displeased  with  man.  While  losing  these  old  beliefs  on  which  liis  faith  rested 
in  this  life,  as  on  a  rock,  he  has  learned  to  believe  some  new  things  which  he 
then  despised.  Mesmerism  (clairvoyance  and  all)  is  a  great  revelation,  though 
the  Bible  is  not.  Moses  was  very  ignorant  of  physical  science  ;  but  the  author 
of  the  "  Vestiges  of  Creation  "  is  a  great  philosopher. 

But  Dr.  Olin's  losses  and  gains  are  otherwise  illustrated  in  this  book. 
Wliile  among  men  he  wrote  clear  good  English  ;  now  he  does  not  observe  the 
rules  of  grammar,  and  he  uses  words  that  would  formerly  have  disgusted  his 
refined  taste.  He  speaks  of  the  "  resurrected  "  form  of  the  human  body,  and 
of  "happifying"  consequences,  with  a  most  serene  forgetfulness  of  tlie  lan- 
guage he  once  could  use  so  well.  He  confounds  "  shall  "  and  "  will  "  continu- 
ally :  but  the  contusion  does  not  seem  to  trouble  him.  lie  tells  us  that  man 
may  be  considered  "chemically,"  or  "magnetically,"  or  "electrically."  Ills 
taste,  too,  has  been  equally  debased  since  he  entered  the  "  second  sphere."  He 
abounds  in  elegant  commonplaces — formerly  liis  abhorrence, — such  as  "ex- 
panding suns,"  (!)  "shoreless  oceans,"  and  innumerable  "gems."      He  tells 

Fourth  Series,  Vol.  V. — 38 


602  Short  Reviews  and  Notices  of  Books.        [October, 

us  to  "  inhale  sublimities,"  as  if  sublimities  were  the  laughing-gas.  He  informs 
us  that  "  the  sphere  of  science  to  the  contemplative  mind  is  an  ever-increasing 
ocean  of  imperishable  gems,  whose  beauties  shine  with  an  increasing  brIlHancy." 
He  gives  the  following  lines  (and  many  more  of  the  same  sort)  as  poetry : — 

"Where,  from  the  highest  summit,  he  descries 

The  distant  town,  tlie  mountain  rancre,  the  valley's 

Varying  course,  the  river's  leaping  tide  ; 

And,  further  on,  the  distant  spire  of  some 

Devoted  shrine  and  haUow'd  ]ihice,  and  from 

The  whole  review  drinks  inspiration  and  supreme  delight." 

Now  it  is  a  grave  question  for  ISIr.  Wilson,  and  the  spiritualists  generally,  to 
answer,  If  Dr.  Olin's  txste  and  cultivation  have  degenerated  so  sadly  while 
he  has  only  entered  tlic  second  sphere,  what  will  it  be  when  he  has  reached 
the  twelfth? 


(22.)  "  An  Essay  on  (he  Pastoral  Office,  as  Exemplifed  in  tJie  Economy  of 
the  Methodist  Episcopal  Ch  urch,  by  Rev.  J.  H.  W ythes,  M.  D."  (New- York  : 
Carlton  &  Phillips,  1853;  18mo.,  pp.  109.)  This  treatise  is  designed  to 
present  a  brief  and  summarv-  ^-iew  of  the  polity  of  the  Church,  so  far  .as  the 
pastoral  office  is  concerned.  The  fundamental  position  of  the  work  is  that 
the  pastoral  office  is  not  a  matter  of  expediency,  and  that  its  nature 
and  extent  are  not  to  be  determined  by  conventional  arrangement,  but  by 
divine  authority.  It  is  tlien  shown  that  the  office  is  not  temjwral,  but  spuit- 
ual;  that  it  is  not  a  priesthood,  but  an  office  of  instruction  and  admonition; 
involving,  however,  in  order  to  conserve  the  society  of  Christian  people,  the 
authority  to  administer  the  sacraments  and  to  exercise  discipline.  The  guards 
and  limitations  of  this  authority  are  then  set  forth  as  equally  of  divine  ap- 
.poiutment : — 

"  The  rights  of  the  membership,  therefore,  require  that  thej'  shall  be  per- 
mitted to  recognise'  the  divine  call  of  each  individual  pastor;  that  every  reason- 
able facility  shall  be  afforded  for  the  trial  and  expulsion  of  unworthy  ministers; 
and  that  the  membership  themselves  shall  be  permitted,  in  some  way,  to  judge 
of  the  fitness  of  the  cases  to  which  Church  censures,  rebukes,  &c.,  are  to  be 
applied." 

It  is  then  shown  that  these  limitations  form  part  of  the  organic  law  of 
Methodism,  afibrding  ample  security  against  ministerial  encroachments: — 

"As  it  is,  the  government  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church  exhibits  the 
most  adnurably  contrived  system  of  checks  and  balances  of  power  ever  seen  in 
an  ecclesiastical  community.  While  a  divinely-instituted  uunistry  is  recognised, 
and  allowed  the  exercise  of  its  legitimate  functions,  the  rights  of  the  member- 
ship of  the  Church  are  auknowleilged  and  preserved.  The  Methodist  people,  on 
the  one  hand,  while  anxious  to  preserve  a  system  which  guards  against  human 
weakness,  or  the  usuri^ation  of  power,  have  been  ready  to  receive  their  minis- 
ters as  the  ambassadors  of  Christ ;  on  the  other  hand,  all  that  the  Methodist 
itinerancy  have  ever  asked,  and  all  that  they  desire  as  ministers  of  God,  is  an 
untrammelled  administration  of  the  word  of  Christ  in  the  pnlpit,  and  such 
reasonable  facilities  for  pastoral  advice  and  instruction  as  are  consistent  with 
the  itinerancy  of  their  u>iuistrations." 


1853.]  Short  Revieios  and  Notices  of  Boohs.  603 

Dr.  AYythes  then  proceeds  to  explain  and  vindicate  the  two  cliief  peculiari- 
ties of  Methodism,  viz.,  Episcopacy  and  Itinerancy;  and  to  set  forth  the  Pre- 
siding Eldership  and  Class-meetings  as  necessary  accompaniments  of  the 
itinerant  system.  The  topics  thus  far  named  are  treated  in  the  first  six 
chapters  of  the  work.  In  the  seventh,  the  Conferences  are  treated  of  as 
essentially  pastoral  bodies,  -with  functions  and  duties  strictly  limited  to  pas- 
toral ends.  Under  this  view,  of  course,  the  author  finds  no  jtlacc  for  lay-dele- 
gation: "If  the  authority  of  the  General  Conference  be  thus  strictly /5fK/wfl/, 
it  ought  certainly  to  be  confined  to  those  whom  the  Church  has  consented  to 
receive  as  their  divinely-commissioned  pastors;  and  the  desire  of  the  laity 
(which  has  been  expressed  in  some  parts  of  the  Church)  to  bo  admitted  to  a 
share  in  its  counsels  and  authority,  is  a  desire  to  assume  the  functions  of  the 
pastorate  without  sharing  its  toils,  and  Avithout  even  tlie  claim  of  a  divine 
commission."  A  brief  chapter  on  Pastoral  Support  closes  this  compact  little 
treatise,  which  we  commend  (without  endorsing  all  its  positions)  as  worthy  of 
general  circulation  among  our  people.  It  contains  a  great  amount  of  valuable 
matter  in  a  very  small  space. 


(23.)  '•  The  Boyhood  of  Great  Men,"  (Nev.--York:  Harper  &  Brothers;  18mo., 
pp.  3Sd,)  gives  brief  sketches  of  the  early  days  of  a  number  of  men  of 
eminence  in  the  dilFerent  walks  of  life — poets,  painters,  orators,  editors,  &c. 
It  is  Mell  executed,  and  admirably  adapted  to  stimulate  young  readers  to 
industi-y.  The  characters  are  generally  well-chosen ;  though  we  miss  among 
the  "  classes  "  from  which  the  selections  are  made  the  greatest  of  all,  viz.,  the 
inventors  and  discoverers.  The  day  of  the  "  industrial  classes  "  is  rapidly  ap- 
proaching; and  books  will  not  omit  them  much  longer. 


(24.)  "Episcopal  ^fet}lO'.Us)n,  as  it  icas  and  is,  by  the  Rev.  P.  D.  Goimue." 
(Auburn  :  Derby  &  ^Miller ;  1 2mo.,  pp.  354.)  This  volume  is  divided  into  four 
books,  of  which  the  first  gives  a  sketch  of  the  origin  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal 
Church,  and  of  its  hL4ory  down  to  1850.  Book  II.  treats  of  the  do<,-trines  of 
the  Church,  following  the  order  of  the  Twenty-five  Articles ;  and  giving,  besides, 
a  statement  of  the  doctrines  of  the  "Witness  of  the  Spirit,  Juslifii-ation,  Pos- 
sibility of  Falling  from  Grace,  and  Eternal  Punishment,  as  held  by  tlie  Church. 
Book  III.  gives  a  full  and  thorough  exposition  of  the  Polity  of  the  Church ; 
and  the  fourth  book  affords  a  large  and  valuable  collection  of  ecclesiastical 
statistics.  This  well-conoeived  and  well-executed  treatise,  with  Porter's  Com- 
pendium of  Methodism,  furnishes  almost  everything  that  can  be  desired  on  the 
subject 

(25.)  We  rejoice  to  see  a  growing  tendency  among  our  alile  ministers  toward 
■writing  for  the  times.  To  prepare  a  good  book  of  practical  religion  or 
biography  is  the  next  thing  to  preaching  with  the  living  voice;  and  the 
annals  of  ^Methodism  furnish  abundant  material  for  this  species  of  writing, 
large  as  our  stock  of  books  of  this  class  already  is.    "  T/ie  Wcslei/  Ojferir.rj,  or 


604  Short  Rcvietus  and  Notices  of  Books.        [October, 

Wexhy  and  his  Times,  by  Rev.  D.  TIoi^iks,  A.  M.,  (Auburn :  Derby  &  :Miller ; 
1853;  12mo.,  pp.  308,)  "comes  immediately  after  Professor  Larrabee's  "  Wes- 
ley aud  his  Coadjutors,"  and  covers,  to  a  considerable  extent,  the  same  ground ; 
but  so  ample  is  the  field,  and  so  great  the  difTereuce  between  the  two  liters, 
as  to  their  mode  of  treating  the  subject,  that  the  reader  may  go  through  the 
two  books  in  succession  without  wearying  of  the  topic  or  its  treatment.  iSIr. 
Holmes's  volume  "  docs  not  claim  to  be  a  biography,  in  the  full  sense  of  that 
word,  nor  vet  a  detailed  history  of  the  Weslcyan  Reformation,  but  is  rather 
a  collection  of  incidents  in  the  life  and  labours  of  the  "Wcslejs,  and  of  the  sort 
of  rehgion  promoted  by  them."  It  may  be  characterized  as  a  series  of  thought- 
ful es^ys  on  the  rise  of  :\Iethodisin,  and  its  adaptation  to  the  times,  illustrated 
by  weli-tsTOught  descriptions  and  narrations.  We  commend  it  to  general 
notice.  A  hundred  such  volumes  in  the  hands  of  our  Tract  Society  would 
tell  upon  the  coming  generation. 


(26.)  "^  Manual   of  Bihlical  Literature,  by  W.  P.  Stricklakp,  D.  D." 
(New-York:    Carlton  &  Phillips;  ISfiS;   12mo.,  pp.  404.)      This  carefuUy 
prepared  compilation  is  intended  to  furnish  an  elementary  treatise  on  the 
topics  properly  belonging  to  that  branch  of  theological  study  called  Biblical 
Literature.     Prefixed  to  the  work   is  an  intioduction  by  the  Pev.  Charles 
Elliott,  D.  D.,  who  remarks,  that  notwithstanding  the  number   of  copious 
treatises  on  the  subject,  a  work  was  still  needed  "  for  private  students,  and 
literary  men  in  general— the  design  of  which  would  be  to  present,  in  one 
re<^ularly-arranged  view,  the   leading   principles   of  all   those   topics  which 
are   necessary   to   the  i>ropcr   and   systematic    study   of  the    Bible.      The 
present  volume  is  of  such  a  character.'    The  author  has  drawn  his  materials 
from  the  very  best  sources,  on  the  dllTerent  subjects  of  which   he  treats. 
On   inspecting  the    table    of  contents  it  will  be  seen,  that   after  showing 
the  Importance  of  the  study  of  the  Bible,  the  author  brings  to  view  the  Icad- 
incr  topics  of  Biblical  Literature— such  as  Biblical  Philology,  Criticism,  Inter- 
pretation,  Analysis,    Arclucology,    History,   Ethnography,    Geography,    and 
Chronology.      Of  course,  In  embracing  so  vast  a  field  of  Biblical  research, 
the  work''must  be  elementary.     It  is,  however,  sufficiently  copious  to  give  a 
full  and  clear  knowledge  of  the  essential  principles  embraced  In  the  various 
topics  connected  with  the  study  of  the  Bible.     It  Is  particularly  adapted  to  all 
undor-graduates  in  the  ministry,  and  private  theological  students,  as  well  as  to 
the  advanced  classes  in  Sunday  Schools,  and  to  High  Schools,  Seminaries,  and 
Colleges."     The  work  is  divided  into  nine  parts,  treating  severally  of  Biblical 
Philofogy,  Biblical  Criticism,  Biblical   Exegesis,   Biblical  Analysis,  Biblical 
Archeology,  Biblical  Ethnography,  Biblical  History,  Biblical  Chronology,  and 
Biblical  Geography.     This  enumeration  will  suffice  to  show  the  extent  of  the 
ran-^c  of  topics  embraced  in  this  volume.     Of  course  they  are  treated  sum- 
marily :  but  the  very  design  of  the   author  was  to  prepare  a  compendious 
vianual,  and  he  has  "succeeded  excellently.     The  work  Is  well  adapted,  not 
merely  for  the  use  of  candidates  for  the  ministry,  and  for  Sunday  Schools, 
but  for  general  circulation  in  Christian  families. 


1853.]  Short  Reviews  and  Notices  of  Books.  605 

(27.)  TiiE  volume  issue  of  the  Methodist  Tract  Society  is  rapidly  going  on. 
The  last  that  has  appeared  on  our  table  is  ^^^[e^noirs  of  a  Useful  ^fal^," 
(New- York  :  Carlton  &  riiillips  ;  18mo.,  pp.  200,)  containing  a  record  of  the  life 
and  Christian  labours  of  Roger  Miller,  the  founder  of  llaggcd  Schools,  whoso 
career,  though  beginning  in  the  most  humble  -way,  affords,  as  the  Introduction 
declares,  one  of  the  most  extraordinary  examples  of  Christian  devotion  and 
usefulness  which  the  history  of  the  modern  Church  records.  In  the  London 
City  Mission  he  found  a  field,  in  the  full  sense  of  the  word,  requiring  mis- 
sionary zeal  and  self-denial  to  a  very  large  extent.  The  history  of  his  jkt- 
sonal  as  well  as  his  more  public  career  is  full  of  interest ;  and  the  work  will 
stand  next  to  Father  llecves  among  the  new  publications  of  the  Tract 
Society. 


(28.)  ''  Startltrtfj  Questions,"  C^ew-Yovk:  R.  Carter  &  Brothei-s ;  185.3;  18mo., 
pp.  370,)  is  the  title  of  a  series  of  practical  religious  lectures,  by  Rev.  J.  C. 
Ryle,  whose  pungent  treatise,  entitled  "  Living  or  Dead,"  we  noticed  some 
time  ago.  It  puts  such  questions  as,  "  Are  you  an  heir  ? — shall  you  be 
saved  ?"  &c. — with  great  earnestness,  in  a  very  pointed  style.  Mr.  Ryle  is  a 
believer  in  what  is  called  the  Second  Advent. 


(29.)  The  old  Puritan  divines  were  severe  searchers  of  conscience. 
They  sought,  in  their  own  phrase,  to  "bring  their  hearers  to  their  own 
iniquity ;"  and  this  not  merely  when  those  hearers  were  supposed  to  be  "  sons 
of  Belial,"  but  also  when  they  were  "  professors,"— to  use  another  Puritan  teiin. 
One  of  the  most  pungent  of  their  practical  writings  has  lately  been  rcproiluccd 
by  Messrs.  R.  Carter  &  Brothers,  entitled  ".4  Gospel  Glass,  by  Lkwis 
Stuckley,"  (12mo.,  pp.  30G.)  Its  design  is  to  set  forth  and  "  push  home  the 
miscarriages  of  professors ;"  and  It  is  indeed  a  mirror  of  all  that  are  careless, 
or  at  case  in  Zion.  Its  quaint  language  adds  to  its  point ;  and  in  spite  of  the 
differences  of  the  times,  it  may  do  good  now  as  it  did  in  1658. 


(30.)  "  The  Rum  Plajue"  from  the  German  of  Zschokke,  (New- York :  John 
S.  Taylor;  1853,)  is  a  story  written  twenty  years  ago,  illustrating  the  evil  of 
intemperance.     It  is  just  as  applicable  now  as  ever. 


(31.)  It  13  singular  that  the  best  treatise  on  the  English  constitution— in  fact, 
the  only  treatise  proper  on  the  subject — should  have  been  written  by  a  for- 
eigner. A  new  and  very  neat  edition  of  ''  T/ie  Constitution  of  Enrjland : 
or  an  Account  of  tie  Enr/lish  Government,  in  icltich  it  is  compared  botli  icith 
the  Republican  Form  of  Government  and  the  other  Monarchies  of  Europe,  by 
J.  L.  Deloi.me,"  (New- York  :  Bangs,  Brother  &  Co.,)  has  just  been  issued  as 
a  volume  of  Bohn's  Standard  Library.  It  is  edited  by  Mr.  ]\Iacgregor,  who 
gives  a  brief  biography  of  Doloimc,  and  adds  a  number  of  illustrative  notes. 


606  Short  Revietvs  and  Notices  of  Books.         [October, 

Though  the  work  is  not  profouiul,  it  is  yet,  as  we  have  said,  almost  the 
only  disquisition  of  the  kind  within  reach,  aud  is  worthy  of  a  place  in  every 
library. 

(32.)  The  last  volume  of  :\Ir.  Bohn's  "  Classical  Library"  that  has  reached 
us, is  "  Diogenes Laertius"  (literally  translated  by  C. D.  Yonge,)  whose  History 
of  the  Philsophers  is  the  source  of  most  of  our  knowledge  of  the  career  of 
Greek  philosophy.  Bohn's  scries  are  kept  constantly  on  hand  by  Bangs, 
Brother  &  Co.,  13  Park  Kow,  New- York. 


(33.)  "■  Discoccries  in  the  Ruins  of  Nineveh  and  Bahjlon,  heing  the  Results 
of  a  Second  Expedition,  by  Austex  H.  La  yard  "  (New- York  :  Harper  & 
Brothers;  1853;  8vo.)  This  second  report  of  ]Mr.  Layard's  abounds,  quite 
as  much  as  the  first,  in  that  species  of  Interest  wliich  we  look  for  in  a  book  of 
travels,  while  it  has  for  more  of  antiquarian  value.  It  does  much  more  also 
for  the  illustration  of  the  Bible ;  in  fact,  some  of  its  contributions  to  tliat  end 
are  among  the  most  valuable  of  recent  times.  The  work  is  got  up  in  ex- 
cellent style,  and  is  sold  at  a  very  low  price.  An  extended  review  is  in 
preparation,  and  will  probably  appear  in  our  next  number. 


(34.)  "  Discoveries  in  the  Ruins  of  Nineveh  and  Babylon,  being  the  Results  of 
a  Second  Expedition,  by  Avstf.x  II.  Layard  ;  ahridged  from  the  larger  icorL" 
(New- York:  G.  P.  Putnam  &  Co.;  1853;  12mo.,  pp.  549.)  Tlie  work  of 
abridging  (never  an  easy  thing  to  do  well)  has  been  excellently  done  in  this 
case.  The  more  import;\nt  and  interesting  parts  of  the  work  are  retained  in 
the  author's  own  language ;  the  omitted  parts  consisting  mainly  of  minute 
detivlls  of  description,  tables  of  characters,  &c.  Everything  illustrative  of  the 
Bible  has  been  carefully  retained.  For  those  who  cannot  afford  to  purchase 
the  larf^er  work,  this  abridgment  will  be  an  admirable  substitute. 


(35.)  "  The  Lamp  and  the  Lantern,  by  James  Hamiltox,  D.  D.,"  (New- 
York :  Carter  &  Brothers;  l>^mo.,  pp.  184,)  contains  a  series  of  eloquent  lec- 
tures and  essavs,  mostly  hortatory,  in  Dr.  Hamilton's  best  vein,  on  subjects 
connected  with  the  reading  and  propagation  of  the  Bible. 

(30.)  "We  noticed  some  time  since,  with  commendation,  Du.  Johx  BRO^v^''s 
Expository  Discourses  on  the  sayings  of  our  Lord.  He  must  write  very  rapid- 
Iv  for  we  have  now  another  octavo  volun\c  from  him—"  The  Sufferings  and 
Glories  of  the  Messiah."  (New-York:  Carter  &  Brothers;  1853;  Svo.,  pp. 
352.)  But  though  the  book  may  have  been  rajiidly  written,  it  has  been  long 
studied— the  preface  says,  at  intervals,  for  thirty  years.  It  contains  an  expo- 
sition of  the  eighteenth'  Psalm,  and  of  Isaiah  Hi,  1 3-liii,  1 2.  Dr.  Brown  takes 
the  Psalm  to  be  exclusively  :Messianlc,  and  builds  upon  it  a  view  of  the  person 


1853.]  Short  Reviavs  and  Notices  of  Books.  607 

and  vrork  of  the  Mossiab — very  true,  ven*  erlifying,  and  very  rich  in  instruction. 
Nevertheless,  we  cannot  think  it  successful  as  an  exj>osition.  because  we  can- 
not agree  •wholly  with  his  fundamental  view  of  the  character  of  the  Tsalni. 
The  exposition  of  Isaiah  pleases  us  far  better.  As  a  whole,  the  work  is  a  valu- 
able contribution  to  the  hortatory  exposition  and  application  of  Scripture,  and 
deserves  a  place  in  the  minister's  library. 


(37.)  Messrs.  Carter  &  Brothers  (New- York)  have  reprinted  the 
^''  Histonj  of  the  Westminster  Assemhhj  of  Dii-inc.'<,  by  Eev.  W.  M.  IIether- 
IXGTON."  (12mo.,  pp.  .311.)  It  is  a  compact  and  elaborate  work,  prepared 
after  a  careful  study  of  the  sources  of  information;  and  is  as  impartial  as 
could  be  expected  from  one  who,  to  use  his  own  language,  does  not  he^itiitc  to 
acknowledge  that  he  feels  deeply  and  warmly  interested  in  everything  that  re- 
lates to  Presbyterian  principles  and  character.  The  book  is  published  in  a 
neat  but  cheap  form,  and  should  be  read  by  every  student  of  theology. 


(38.)  "  Water  from  the  Well- Spring  for  the  Sabhatli  Hours  of  Afflicted  Be- 
lievers^ by  Rev.  E.  II.  Bickersteth,"  (New- York:  R.  Carter  &  Brothers; 
1853;  ISmo.,  pp.  254,)  consists  of  a  series  of  Sabbath  meditations  on  select 
passages  of  Scripture,  originally  -written  by  ^Mr.  Bickersteth  for  the  comfort 
and  edification  of  his  invalid  sister.  They  are  well  adapted,  by  their  brevity 
and  tenderness,  to  the  sick-chamber. 


(39.)  "  The  DificuUies  of  Infdelitij,  by  George  Stanley  FAREr.,"  (Xew- 
York:  "Wm.  Gowans;  18.53;  12mo.,  pp.  216,)  is  a  work  which  has  done  ex- 
cellent service  in  its  day.  It  has  long  been  scarce;  and  ]Mr.  Gowans  has  done 
a  very  acceptable  thing  in  reprinting  it  in  the  beautiful  form  in  which  it  now 
lies  before  us.  Appended  to  the  work  are  Robert  Hall's  great  sermon  on 
"  Modern  Infdeliti/,"  and  a  copious  list  of  books  on  the  evidences  of  revealed 
religion — both  valuable  additions. 


(40.)  "  A  Memorial  of  Horatio  Grecnough,  by  H.  T.  TucKER>tAN,"  (Xew- 
York:  G.  P.  Putnam  &  Co;  12mo.,  pp.  245,)  contains  a  brief  memoir  of 
Greenough,  a  number  of  selections  from  his  manuscripts,  and  several  tributes 
to  his  genius,  by  various  hands.  The  memoir  breathes  not  only  a  genial  sym- 
pathy with  art,  but  the  higher  sympathy  of  humanit)-.  It  is  itself  a  beautiful 
work  of  art.  The  selections  reveal  Greenough's  genius  a?  more  versatile  than 
we  had  supposed,  and  show  that  he  had,  indeed,  "  larger  gifts  than  belong 
exclusively  to  the  practical  artist."  Had  he  lived,  lie  would  have  done  much, 
with  his  large  endowments  and  his  high  and  varied  culture,  energized  by  a 
strong  public  spirit,  and  employed  with  fearless  independence,  to  form  what  is 
most  sadly  lacking  in  America,  a  taste  for  genuine  art.  As  it  is,  we  can  only 
mourn  over  his  large  plans  and  high  a.=:pirations  for  the  public  good,— all  un- 
realized. 


608  Short  Reviews  and  Notices  of  Books.         [October, 

(41.)  The  seventh  and  last  volume  of  Professor  Shedd's  edition  of  "  Coleridge's 
Works"  (New- York:  Harper  &  Brothers;  12mo.,  pp.  702)  is  before  us.  An 
extended  article  on  the  work  is  now  in  type,  and  will  appear  in  our  ne.\t 
niunber.  In  the  mean  time  we  have  to  e.xpress  our  extreme  surprise  and  re- 
gret that  an  edition,  in  many  respects  so  excellent,  and  professing  to  be  co?n- 
pletc,  shoiJd  be  sent  into  the  world  without  an  index. 


(42.)  For  breeders  of  poultry  who  wish  to  know  the  best  breeds,  as  well  as 
the  best  methods  of  managing  fowls,  there  is  no  better  or  more  compact  work 
than  ^'Miner's  Domestic  Poultry  Book."  (Rochester:  G.  W.  Fisher,  1853; 
12mo.,  pp.  25C.)  It  is  the  only  book  we  have  seen  that  gives  a  full  account  of 
the  celebrated  Brahma  Footra,  or  Bun-ampooter  fowls — the  largest,  and  in  all 
respects  the  best  breed  that  has  yet  appeared  in  this  country. 


(43.)  "  Summcr/ielJ ;  or,  Life  on  a  Farm,"  ( Auburn:  Derby  &  Miller;  12mo., 
pp.  2-16,)  is  a  very  pretty  set  of  sketches  of  the  ordinary  and  extraordinary' 
incidents  of  .American  rural  and  forest  life — strung  on  a  thread  of  narration 
pleasant  enough  to  keep  up  the  interest  of  youthful  readers. 


(44.)  "  History  of  the  Moiinons,  or  Lattcr-Day  Saints,"  (Auburn :  Derby  & 
^Miller;  12mo.,  pp.  39[',)  is  a  reprint  of  an  English  work  prepared  by  a  reporter 
for  tlie  London  ^Morning  Chronicle.  It  contains  a  good  deal  of  information 
about  the  ^Mormon?,  but  lacks  discrimination  and  thorough  acquaintance  with 
the  subject  As  proof  of  this  wc  may  state  the  simple  foct,  that  the  writer 
leaves  it  as  an  open  ([uestlun  whether  Mormonism  tolerates  polygamy  or  not ! 


(45.)  ^' PhaetJion  :  or,  Loose  T/iuuyht.i  for  Loose  Thinkers,  hy  Y\qy.  Cuarles 
KixGSLEY."  (Cambridge,  l.S.>2  ;  pp.  100.)  The  author  of  Alton  Locke  will 
find  readers  for  anything  he  may  write;  it  is  therefore  vastly  important  that 
what  he  writes  should  be  good.  There  has  been  much  outcry  about  his 
Socialism.  It  appears  that  many  good,  conservative  people  think  that  any  sym- 
pathy for  popular  suiforings — whether  of  white  or  black  mankind — or  any 
scheme  for  bettering  the  fortunes  of  the  Pariahs  of  the  race,  must  argue  a  man 
half  an  infidel.  The  present  M'ork  will  vindicate  IMr.  KIngsley's  orthodoxy 
amply,  and  will  testify  that  if  he  be  a  socialist,  there  can  be  such  a  thing  as 
a  Christian  Socialist. 

Phacthon  is  a  dialogue  after  the  manner  of  the  Socratic.  An  American 
philosopher  (I)  visits  Kiigland,  gets  an  introduction  to  an  English  fimiily  of 
rank,  flatters  himself  and  them  on  his  entrance  into  the  "inner  hearth-life  of 
the  English  landed  aristocracy,"  and  doses  them  with  Emersonian  transcen- 
dentalism, ttsque  ad  nauseam.  Never  before  had  the  respeetiibilities  of  Here- 
fordshire been  invaded  by  so  "rampantly  heterodo.x  a  spiritual  guerrilla." 
He  despises  the  Catholic  creeds,  contemns  all  ages  but  "  our  glorious  nine- 


1853.]  SJwrt  Reviews  and  Notices  of  Books.  609 

teentli  centurv,"  and  holds  in  still  deeper  contempt  all  in  that  glorious  century 
who  dare  to  believe  there  is  "  any  ascertained  truth  independent  of  the  private 
fancy  and  opinion  of  Professor  Windrush  and  his  circle  of  elect  souls."  He 
professes  to  believe  in  physical  science,  and  argues  that  Christianity  is  in  a  fair 
way  to  be  crushed  by  that  science ;  but  his  spiritualism  is  more  materialistic 
than  his  physics.     His  notion  seems  to  be, —  . 

"—that  it  is  the  spiritual  world  which  is  governed  by  physical  laws,  and  the 
physical  by  spiritual  ones ;  that  while  men  and  women  are  merely  the  puppets 
of  cerebra'tions  and  mentations,  and  attractions  and  repulsions,  it  is  the  trees, 
and  stones,  and  gases,  who  have  the  wills  and  the  energies,  and  the  faiths,  and 
the  virtues,  and  the  personalities."  -  ®  '-"'  ^  "  He  talks  of  God  in  terms  which, 
every  one  of  them,  involves  what  we  call  the  essential  properties  of  matter- 
space,  time,  passability,  motion  ;  setting  forth  phrenology  and  mesmerism  as  the 
great  organs  of  education,  even  of  the  regeneration  of  mankind:  apolngi7.mg 
for  the  earlier  ravings  of  the  Poughkeepsie  seer,  and  considering  his  later  electico- 
pantheist  farratros  as  great  utterances :  while,  whenever  he  talks  of  nature,  he 
shows  the  most  credulous  craving  after  everything  which  wc.  the  countrymen  of 
Bacon,  have  been  taucht  to  consider  unscientific— Homicopathy.  Electro-bxdogy, 
Loves  of  the  Plants  iila  Darwin,  Vestiges  of  Creation,  Vegetarianisms  Toetotal- 
isius— never  mind  what,  provided  it  is  unaccredited  or  condemned  by  regularly 
educated  men  of  science." 

The  author  remarks  on  these  ravings  and  their  tendencies  in  languag<>  which 
many  of  our  American  youth,  who  stare  in  admiring  wonderment  at  the  bold 
balloonings  of  Professor  Windrushes,  would  do  well  to  heed : — 

"This  contempt  for  that  which  has  been  already  discovered— this  carelessness 
about  induction  from  the  normal  phenomena,  coupled  with  this  hankering  after 
theories  built  upon  exceptional  ones— this  craving  for  '  signs  and  wonders,'  which 
is  the  sure  accompaniment  of  a  dying  faith  in  God,  and  in  nature  as  God's  work — 
are  symptoms  which  make  me  'tremble  for  the  fate  of  physical  as  well  as  of 
spiritual  science,  both  in  America  and  in  the  Americanists  here  at  home.  As 
the  professor  talked  on,  I  could  not  help  thinking  of  the  Xeo-Platonist-^  of  Alex- 
andria, and  their  exactly  similar  course,— downward  from  a  spiruu:ili-ni  of 
notions  and  emotions,  which  in  every  term  confessed  its  own  materialism,  to  the 
Tearful  discovery  that  consciousness  does  not  reveal  God,  not  even  matter,  but 
only  its  own  existence ;  and  then  onward,  in  desperate  search  after  soun-tliing 
external  wherein  to  trust,  toward  theurgio  fi-tish  worship,  and  the  secret  virtues 
of  ecms,  and  flowers,  and  stars ;  and,  last  of  all,  to  the  lowest  depthof  bowing 
statues  and  winking  pictures.  The  sixth  century  saw  that  career.  Temphton ; 
the  nineteenth  may  see  it  recnacted,  with  only  these  difr<-renccs.  that  the  nature- 
worship  which  seems  coming  will  be  all  the  more  crushing  and  slavish,  because 
we  know  so  much  better  how  vast  and  glorious  nature  is;  and  that  the  supersti- 
tious will  be  more  clumsy  and  foolish  in  proportion  as  our  Saxon  brain  is  less 
acute  and  discursive,  and  our  education  less  severely  scientific,  than  those  of  the 
old  Greeks." 

It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  Professor  Windrush  passes  in  Herelbrdshice 
for  a  fair  example  of  the  American  people  : — 

"  God  forbid  that  so  unpractical  a  talker  should  be  a  sample  of  the  most  prac- 
tical people  upon  earth.  The  Americans  have  their  engineers,  their  geographers, 
their  astronomers,  their  scientific  chemists  ;  few,  indeed,  but  such  as  bid  fair  to 
rival  those  of  any  nation  upon  earth.  But  these,  like  other  true  workers,  hold 
their  tongues  and  do  their  business." 

"And  they  have  a  few  indigenous  authors  too:  you  must  have  read  the  '  Big- 
low  Papers,'  and  the  'Fable  for  Critics,'  and  last,  but  not  least,  '  Uncle  Tom's 
Cabin?'"  ..,,,,. 

"  Yes ;  and  I  have  had  far  less  fear  for  Americans  since  I  read  that  book  ;  for 


610  Short  Reviews  and  Notices  of  Books.         [October, 

it  showc'l  me  that  there  vras  right  healthy  power,  artistic  as  well  as  intellectual, 
among  them  even  now, — ready,  when  their  present  borrowed  peacock's  feathers 
have  fallen  off,  to  come  forth  and  prove  that  the  Yankee  Eagle  is  a  right  gallant 
bird,  if  he  will  but  trust  to  his  own  natural  plumage." 

The  "  new "  philosophers  of  England  and  America — tlie  Emcrsons  and 
Parkers,  et  id  omne  genus,  on  this  side  the  water,  and  the  Newmans,  Gregs,  &c., 
on  the  other  side — are  well  hit  olT  in  the  following  paragraphs : — 

"The  knot  of  hapless  men,  who,  unable  from  some  defect  or  morbidity  to  help 
on  the  real  movement  of  their  nation,  are  fain  to  get  their  bread  with  tongue 
and  pen,  by  retailing  to  '  silly  women,'  '  ever  learning  and  never  coming  to  the 
knowlcdge'of  the  truth,'  second-hand  German  eclecticisms,  now  exploded  even  in 
the  country  where  they  arose,  and  the  very  froth  and  scum  of  the  Medea's  caldron, 
in  which  the  disjecta  vicmbra  of  old  Calvinism  are  pitiably  seething." 

"Ah!  It  has  been  always  the  plan,  you  know,  in  England,  as  well  as  in 
America,  courteouily  to  avoid  taking  up  a  German  theory  till  the  Germans  had 
quite  done  with  it,  and  thrown  it  away  for  something  new.  But  what  are  we 
to  say  of  those  who  arc  trying  to  introduce  into  England  these  very  Americanized 
Germanisms,  as  the  only  teaching  which  can  suit  the  needs  of  the  old  world  ?" 

"We  will,  if  we  are  in  a  vulgar  humour,  apply  to  them  a  certain  old  proverb 
about  teaching  one's  grandmother  a  certain  simple  operation  on  the  egg  of  the 
domestic  fowl^  but  we"  will  no  less  take  shame  to  ourselves,  as  sons  of  Alma 
Muter,  that  such  nou.'rC-nse  can  get  even  a  day's  hearing,  either  among  the 
daughters  of  Manchester  manufacturers,  or  among  Loudon  working-men." 

The  main  topic  of  the  book  is  furnished  by  the  theory  started  by  Professor 
Windrush,  that  "  if  a  man  does  hut  believe  a  tiling,  he  has  a  right  to  speak  it  and 
act  on  it,  right  or  urong."  Alcibiades  and  Pliacthon,  walking  into  the  Pnyx 
early  in  the  morning,  find  Socrates  there,  with  his  face  to  the  east,  in  prayer. 
They  touch  him  on  the  shoulder  before  he  becomes  aware  of  their  presence. 
They  soon  enter  into  a  discussion  arising — 

"  from  something."  said  Alcibiades,  "  which  Protagoras  said  in  his  lecture 
yesterday— How  truth  was  what  each  man  troweth,  or  believeth  to  be  true.  'So 
that,'  he"  said,  'one  thing  is  true  to  me,  if  I  believe  it  true,  and  anotheropposite 
thing  to  you,  if  you  bolieve  that  opposite.  For,'  continued  he,  '  there  is  an  ob- 
jective and  a  subjective  truth;  the  former,  doubtless,  one  and  absolute,  and  con- 
tained in  the  nature  of  each  thing ;  but  the  other  manifold  and  relative,  vary- 
ing with  the  faculties  of  each  perceiver  thereof.'  But  as  each  man's  faculties, 
be  said,  were  different  from  his  neighbour's,  and  all  more  or  less  imperfect,  it 
was  impossible  that  the  absolute  objective  truth  of  anything  could  be  seen  by  any 
mortiil,  but  only  some  partial  approximation,  and,  as  it  were,  sketch  of  it,  accord- 
ing as  the  object  was  represented  with  more  or  less  refraction  on  the  mirror  of 
his  subjectivity.  And,  therefore,  as  the  true  inquirer  deals  only  with  the  pos- 
sible, and  lets 'the  impossible  go,  it  was  the  business  of  the  wise  man,  shunning 
the  search  after  absolute  truth  as  an  impious  attempt  of  the  Titans  to  scale 
Olympus,  to  busy  himself  humbly  and  practically  with  subjective  truth,  and  with 
those  methods—rhetoric,  for  instance- by  which  he  can  make  the  subjective 
opinions  of  others  cither  similar  to  his  own,  or,  leaving  them  as  they  are— for  it 
may  be  very  often  unnecessary  to  change  them— useful  to  his  own  ends. 

The  scope  of  the  dialogue  can  be  well  apprehended  from  this  passage,  and 
from  a  single  quotation  more  : — 

SocRATKs.  "But  toll  mc  now,  Alcibiades;  did  the  opinion  of  l^otagoras  alto 
gcther  please  you '?" 

Alcibiades.'  "  Why  not  ?  Is  it  not  certain  that  two  equally  honest  men  may 
differ  in  their  opiuicns  on  the  same  matter?" 

S.    "  Undeniable." 


1853.]  Short  Revicios  and  Notices  of  BooJis.  61 1 

A.  "  But  if  each  is  equally  sincere  in  speaking  what  he  believes,  is  not  each 
equally  moved  by  the  spirit  of  truth  ?" 

S.  "You  seem  to  have  beeu  lately  initiated,  and  that  not  at  Eleusis  merely, 
nor  in  the  Cabiria,  but  rather  in  some  Persian  or  Babylonian  mysteries,  when 
you  discourse  tlius  of  spirits.  But  you,  Phaethon,"  (turning  to  rac,)  "  how  did 
you  like  the  periods  of  I'rotagoras?" 

"  Do  not  ask  me,  Socrates,"  said  I,  "  for  indeed  we  have  fought  a  weary  battle 
together  ever  since  sundown  last  night;  and  all  that  I  had  to  say  I  learned  from 
you." 

S.  "Let  us  see,  then.  Alcibiadcs  distinguishes,  he  says,  between  objective 
fact  and  subjective  opinion?" 

A.    "  Of  course  I  do." 

S.  "But  not,  I  presume,  between  objective  truth  and  subjective  truth,  whereof 
Protagoras  spoke  ?" 

A.  "  AVhat  trap  arc  you  laying  now  ?  I  distinguish  between  them,  also,  of 
course." 

S.  "  Tell  me,  then,  dear  youth,  of  your  indulgence,  what  they  are ;  for  I  am 
shamefully  ignorant  on  the  matter." 

A.  "  Why,  do  they  not  call  a  thing  objectively  true,  when  it  is  true  absolutely 
in  itself;  but  subjectively  true,  when  it  is  true  in  the  belief  of  a  particular  per- 
son •?" 

S.  " — Though  not  necessarily  true  objectively,  that  is,  absolutely  ami  in  it- 
self?" 

A.   "No." 

S.    "But  possibly  true  so?" 

A.   "  Of  course." 

S.  "Now,  tell  me— a  thing  is  objectively  true,  is  it  not,  when  it  is  a  fact  as 
it  is  ?" 

A    "Yes." 

S.  "  And  when  it  is  a  fact  as  it  is  not,  it  is  objectively  false ;  for  such  a  fact 
would  not  be  true  absolutely,  and  in  itself,  would  it  ?" 

A.    "  Of  course  not." 

S.    "  Such  a  fact  would  be,  therefore,  no  fact,  and  nothing." 

A.    "  Why  so  ?" 

S.  "  Because,  if  a  thing  exists,  it  can  only  exist  as  it  is,  not  as  it  is  not;  at 
least,  my  opinion  inclines  that  way." 

"  Certainly  not,"  said  I ;  "  why  do  you  haggle  so,  Alcibiadcs  ?" 

S.  "  Fair  and  softly,  Phaethon !  How  do  you  know  that  he  is  not  fighting 
for  wife  and  child,  and  the  altars  of  his  gods?  But  if  he  will  agree  with  you 
and  me,  he  will  confess  that  a  thing  which  is  objectively  false  does  not  exist  at 
all,  and  is  nothing." 

A.  "  I  suppose" it  is  necessary  to  do  so.  But  I  know  whither  you  are  strug- 
gling."        "    ■ 

S.  "  To  this,  dear  youth,  that,  therefore,  if  a  thing  subjectively  true  be  also 
objectively  false,  it  does  not  e.xist,  and  is  nothing." 

"  It  is  so,"  said  I. 

S.  "  Let  us,  then,  lot  nothing  go  its  own  way,  while  we  go  on  ours  with  that 
which  is  only  objectively  true,  lest  coming  to  a  river  over  which  it  is  subjectively 
true  to  us  that  there  is  a  bridge,  and  trying  to  walk  over  that  work  of  our  own 
mind,  but  no  one's  hands,  the  bridge  prove  to  be  objectively  false,  and  we,  walk- 
ing over  the  bank  into  the  water,  be  set  free  from  that  which  is  subjective  on 
the  further  bank  of  Styx." 

Then  I,  laughing,  "This  hardly  coincides,  Alcibiades,  with Protagoras's  opinion, 
that  subjective  truth  was  alone  u-'cful." 

"  But  ratliiT  proves,"  said  Socrates,  "  that  xindiluted  draughts  of  it  are  of  a 
hurtful  atid  poisonous  nature,  and  require  to  be  tempered  witli  somewhat  of  olj- 
jective  truth,  before  it  is  safe  to  use  them ;  at  least,  in  the  case  of  bridges." 

Wc  should  bo  glad  to  continue  our  quotations,  and  to  unfold  the  whole  tenor 
of  this  beautiful  and  instructive  dialogue ;  but  wc  hope  it  will  be  repub- 
lished in  this  country,  that  our  readers  may  get  it  for  tlicmselvcs. 


612  Shart  Reviews  and  Notices  of  Books.         [October, 

(40.)  "  TAc  rdglii  Way;  or,  Practical  Lectures  on  the  Decaloffuc,  by  J.  T. 
Crane,  A.  M.,  of  tbe  New-Jevacy  Conference."  (New-York :  Carlton  & 
Phillips,  1S53 ;  1 2ino.,  pp.  277.)  As  Mr.  Crane  remarks  in  his  preface  to  this 
excellent  volume,  it  is  singular  that  while  the  necessitij  for  a  clear  understand- 
ing of  the  law  is  acknowledged,  '•  so  little  has  been  done  to  disseminate  popu- 
lar expositions  of  it."  The  present  Avork  is  a  contribution  to  this  duty  of  the 
Church.  It  is  designed  as  a  brief  explanation  of  the  Decalogue,  "  for  the  use 
of  those  not  familiar  with  libraries,  and  especially  fur  the  young,"  as  the  author 
modestly  states.  But  it  is  fitted  for  the  use  of  all  classes  of  readers.  The  in- 
troduction treats  simply,  but  in  a  clear  and  satisfactory  way,  of  the  nature  of 
virtue  and  of  the  ground  of  moral  obligation.  We  cannot  quite  agree  with  the 
author  that  the  lioliness  of  God  consists  In  the  fact  that  all  the  divine  aOcctlons 
and  acts  are  benevolent.  It  is  true  that  God's  holiness  is  LOVK ;  but  it  is  love, 
not  simply  or  chiefly  as  healing  and  beneficent,  but  as  going  forth  to  destroy 
and  punish  evil.  Mr.  Crane  holds  to  the  doctrine  that  conscience  is  a  moral 
faculty,  and  urges  the  duty  (1)  of  cultivating  it;  (2)  of  directing  it;  (3)  of 
obeying  it.  AVe  quote  the  discussion  of  the  second  of  these,  as  an  illustration 
of  the  clear  and  forcible  style  in  which  the  book  is  written : — 

"Rousseau  apostrophizes  conscience  as  a  'divine  instinct,  immortal  and 
heavenly  voice,  sure  guide  of  a  being  ignorant  and  limited,  but  intelligent  and 
free;  infallible  judge  of  good  and  e'vil.'  But  in  wliat  human  breast  is  such  a 
conscience  to  be  found?  The  existence  of  an  innate  infallible  conscience  can  be 
demonstrated  neither  by  the  present  experience  nor  the  past  history  of  our  fiillcn 
race.  Children,  whose  training  has  been  neglected,  are  as  ignorant  of  ethics  as 
of  natural  science.  Even  tlie  strongest  advocates  of  the  infallibility  of  the  inborn 
moral  sense,  when  their  attention  is  drawn  to  some  intricate  question  in  casu- 
istry, have  recourse,  not  to  their  'divine  instinct,' but  to  acknowledged  rules, 
and  to  their  ordinary  powers  of  reasoning  and  comparing;  and  the  more  judi- 
cious and  reliable  the  Christian  becomes,  the  more  carefully  does  he  disregard 
unaccountable  impulses,  and  seek  to  conform  his  life  to  the  revealed  standard  of 
duty. 

"  It  is  evident  that  there  may  be  strong  convictions  of  obligation,  and  strong 
desires  to  obey,  wliere  there  are  but  confused  and  even  totally  incorrect  views 
of  the  will  of  the  lawgiver.  The  obedient  son,  who  goes  with  cheerful  step  to 
labour  in  the  vineyard,  may  mistake  some  noxious  weed  for  the  grape  of  Eshcnl. 
Saul,  breathing  threatenings  and  slaughter  against  the  saints,  'lived  in  all  good 
conscience  before  God,'  as  well  as  when  he  laid  down  his  life  and  wou  a  martyr  s 
crown  at  Home.  The  follower  of  Confucius,  oifering  sacrifice  at  the  tomb  .if  his 
ancestors;  the  Tartar,  attaching  his  paper  prayer  to  the  windmill;  Uie  Hindu 
devotee,  casting  himself  down  before  the  murderous  wheels  of  his  idol'scar,  may 
all  feel  an  approving  emotion.  Conscientiousness  may  help  on  the  follies  of  the 
heathen,  as  well  as\he  prayers,  and  praises,  and  good  works  of  the  Christian, 
The  sense  of  obligation  may  be  actiye  and  tender,  and  yet  be  so  left  in  the  dark 
as  even  to  prompt  to  the  wrong.  It  sounds  a  warning  against  sin,  it  dcmamls 
that  the  supposed  right  be  done,  but  does  not  inspire  knowledge.  If  confuted  m 
his  notions  of  duty,  even  the  sincere  follower  of  Christ  may  go  astray  in  his 
ignorance,  and  thus  his  usefulness  and  his  spiritual  progress  are  obstructed,  if 
not  totally  destroyed,  llcvelation,  direct  or  traditional,  is  the  only  sure  puidc. 
If  we  turn  away  our  eyes  from  its  bright  rays,  we  groi>e  in  uncertain  twilight, 
or  are  lost  in  midnight  darkness.  Passion,  appetite,  interest,  prejudice,  may 
wrest  judgment  and  darken  counsel.  The  true  stand.ard,  the  law  of  right,  and 
our  only  infallible  guide,  is  Go.l's  word.  The  heathen  may  possess  fragments 
of  traditionary  truth,  but  '  wo  have  a  more  sure  word  of  prophecy,  whcreunto 
ye  do  well  that  ye  take  heed,  as  unto  a  light  that  shineth  in  a  dark  place. 
Conscience  and  revealed  morality  are  correlative,  as  light  and  the  optic  nerve 
are  created  for  each  other. 


1653.]  Short  Revieius  and  Notices  of  Books.  613 

"Every  one  then  to  -w-hora  tLc  word  of  God  ia  given  is  bound  in  reason  find  in 
conscience  to  '  search  the  Scriptures,'  asking  wisdom  of  Him  who  giveth  to 
all  men  liberally  and  upbraideth  not.  lie  thus  shall  truad  the  noblest  field  of 
knowledge  open  to  human  investigati>in.  Recourse  should  be  had  to  every  avail- 
able means  to  gain  clear  ideas  of  what  Jehovah  demands.  Heading,  reflection, 
prayer,  the  advice  of  the  pious  ami  the  judicious,  may  all  be  employed  with 
advantage.  The  divine  law  must  be  studied  diligently,  pcrseveringly,  and  with 
sincere  and  eager  desires  to  learn  the  whole  truth,  till  its  golden  precepts  are 
graven  upon  the  memory,  and  its  pure  spirit  fills  the  heart. 

"Nothing  is  more  common  among  men  than  perverted  and  defective  conscien- 
tiousness. The  ignorant  Papist,  who,  apparently  without  any  compunctious 
fisitings,  can  drink  to  intoxication,  fight,  lie,  and  prof;uie  the  Sabbath,  is  over- 
■whelmed  with  horror  at  the  idea  of  eating  flesh  on  Fri'hiy ;  and  if  he  has  even 
tasted,  is  haunted  by  keen  remorse  till  penance  and  priestly  pardon  have  lulled 
his  conscience  to  rest.  But  every  branch  of  the  Christian  (.'hnrch  is  shorn  of  a 
part  of  its  strength,  by  the  fact  that  some  of  its  members  cannot  be  made  to 
sec  that  to  practise  certain  things  which  they  neglect,  and  to  abstain  from 
certain  others  to  which  they  are  given,  is  a  Christian  duty.  From  the  errors  of 
early  training,  from  personal  peculiarities,  or  from  the  force  of  appetite,  passion, 
and  prejudice,  they  find  it  well-nigh  impossible  to  reason  correctly  when  certain 
moral  questions  are  brought  to  the  bar  of  judgment.  Nay,  the  easily-besetting 
sin  may  be  complacently  exalted  into  a  cardinal  virtue — or,  at  the  worst,  the 
accidental  excess  of  a  virtue.  A  defect  in  temper  or  habit  may  hang  like  a 
Biillstone  about  the  neck  of  a  man,  and  he,  nevertheless,  be  so  infatuated  aa  to 
pride  himself  upon  it,  and  count  it  his  strength.  At  the  same  time,  he  will 
reason  very  justly  respecting  the  eiTors  and  defects  of  others;  and  the  n^ajni- 
tude  of  the  beam  in  his  own  eye  does  not  prevent  his  detecting  the  smallest 
mote  in  his  brother's.  How  common  it  is  to  see  men  in  extreme  distress  about 
the  sins  of  other  people,  while  they  bestow  hardly  a  glance  upon  their  own  I  A 
Tery  tender  conscience  may  be  palsied  on  one  side,  and  be  totally  bliml  in  one 
eye.  What  we  would  denounce  as  avarice  in  another,  in  ourselves  we  defend 
and  approve  as  prudence ;  that  which  in  another  we  would  style  stubbornness 
and  passion,  we  call,  in  ourselves,  due  firmness  and  generous  spirit :  and  every 
moral  deformity  which  we  condemn  and  hate  in  others,  we  baptize  by  a  very 
smooth  name,  when  we  detect  its  presence  in  ourselves. 

"Again,  men  are  acute  in  detecting,  and  severe  in  condemning,  those  sins 
to  which  they  themselves  are  not  given.  The  passidnate  man,  firgetful  of  his 
fierce  anger  and  its  guilt,  is  zealous  in  his  efforts  to  reform  his  neiglibour,  whom 
he  suspects  of  being  covetous.  The  volatile  professor,  whose  endless  levities 
render  his  sincerity  questionable,  lashes  the  more  sober  Christian  for  his  gloomy 
repulsive  countenance;  while  the  sour  ascetic  frets  even  at  the  cheerfulness  of 
youth,  as  if  it  were  the  worst  of  sins.  The  one  who  is  carekss  in  his  bu-^incss 
rails  at  the  man  who  is  careless  in  his  language ;  and  the  one  who  is  very  slow 
to  give  his  money  to  good  objects,  sees  his  brother's  sin  of  pride  in  all  its  horrors ; 
while  the  ofiicious,  censorious  brother,  by  his  unsparing  reproofs,  and  ungener- 
ous insinuations,  keeps  the  whole  Church  in  angry  ferment,  and  atones  for  his 
own  deficiency  in  spiritual  things  by  calling  attention  to  the  spiritual  defects  of 
-the  rest.  Thus  it  goes,  through  the  whole  round  of  peculiarity  and  circum- 
stances, and  each 

'Compounds  for  sin  ho  is  inclhicJ  to 
By  damning  tbose  he  has  no  iiiiud  to.' 

"This  tendency  to  a  one-sided  conscience  makes  it  the  duty  of  every  man  to 
scan  closely  his  opinions  upon  moral  subjects,  and  see  whether  any  error  has 
been  introduced  by  circumstances.  nai)py  is  he  who  has  been  able  to  escape 
the  entanglements  of  passion  and  prejudice,  and  who,  at  all  times,  sees  cveiy 
sin  in  its  deformity,  and  every  virtue  in  its  true  beauty  and  glory." 

Wc  should  be  glad  to  give  further  extracts,  but  our  limits  forbid.  Wc  must 
content  ourselves  with  commending  the  work  as  the  best  hortatorj-  exposition 
of  the  I^eealogue  extant  among  us  ;  and  we  earnestly  hope  that  it  will  be 
•widely  read  by  our  ministers  and  people. 


614  Shoi't  Reviews  and  Notices  of  Books.       [October, 

(47.)  "  The  Cloister  Life  of  the  Emperor  Charles  the  Fifth,  by  William 
Stirlin-g,"  (Boston  :  Crosby,  Nicliols  &  Co. ;  1853  ;  12mo.,  pp.  322,)  is  ca  book 
wliich  has  had  quite  a  run  in  England,  and  is  reprinted  now  fi-om  the  second 
London  edition.  It  gives  a  very  dllTerent  notion  of  the  -way  of  life  adopted  by 
tlie  royal  recluse  from  that  -which  we  derive  from  llobertson's  graceful  pages. 
The  subject  is  so  interesting  that  we  hope  to  return  to  it  again  at  some 
length. 


(48.)  "  Xutes  on  the  Gospels,  Critical  and  Explanatory,  by  ]\I.  W.  Jacohus, 
Professor  of  Biblical  Literature  in  the  Western  Theological  Seminary." 
(New- York:  R.  Carter  &  Brothers;  1853;  2  vols.,  12mo.)  In  many  respects 
this  commentary  is  an  advance  on  all  that  have  preceded  it,  in  adajytation  to 
the  wants  of  Sunday  Scliools, — especially  of  those  which  use  the  questions  of  the 
American  Sunday- School  Uniou.  It  takes  up  the  Union  Question  Book,  and 
gives  notes  with  reference  to  them ;  not,  however,  confining  the  conmientary 
to  them.     A  Harmony  of  the  Gospels  is  incorporated  with  the  notes. 


(49.)  "  A  Neic  Greek  Hurmonij  of  the  Four  Gospels,  by  "\V>f.  Strocd,  M.  D." 
(London  :  S.  Bagster  &  Sons ;  1853  ;  4to.,  pp.  384.)  This  ample  and  elaborate 
work  combines  both  a  synopsis  and  a  diatessaron  of  the  Gospels,  prc|)ared  on 
a  plan  presenting  some  striking  novelties.  The  Greek  text  has  been  revised, 
and  the  autlioritics  for  all  alterations  arc  given  in  the  foot-notes.  A  copious 
preliminary  treatise  treats  of  the  nature  of  Gospel  Harmonies;  of  the  charac- 
ter of  the  Four  Gospels,  as  lurnlshing  the  materials  of  a  harmonized  narra- 
tive; of  the  principles  and  rules  adopted  in  the  present  Harmony;  aud  of  the 
character  of  the  Harmony  itself.  A  number  of  chronological  and  other  tables 
of  great  value  are  appended.  The  work  reached  us  too  late  for  the  careful 
examination  required  for  a  thorough  notice  in  this  number:  we  shall,  however, 
treat  it  more  at  lencrth  in  our  next. 


(50.)  "  The  Lives  of  the  Popes,  from  A.D.  100  to  A.  D.  1853."  (New- York  : 
Carlton  &  Phillips;  1853;  12rao.,  pp.  5GG.)  This  neat  and  portable  volume 
cont'iins  the  whole  matter  of  four  small  volumes,  originally  published  under 
the  same  title  by  the  Religious  Tract  Society  of  London.  There  is  no  work 
extant  to  our  knowledge  that  covers  the  same  ground.  It  gives  in  compen- 
dious form  the  history  of  the  Papacy  from  its  very  beginnings,  down  to  the 
pontificate  of  Pius  IX. — a  kind  of  information  which  the  American  people 
stand  much  in  need  of  just  now.  The  work  is  written  in  a  strongly  Protestant 
spirit.  It  would  be  verj-  useful  as  a  book  of  reference,  if  supplied  with  a 
chronolojlcal  table  and  an  index. 


(51.)  "  LJfjhis  of'  the  World;  or,  Illnstrallcns  of  Character  draioi  from  the 
Records  of  Christian  Life,  by  the  Kev.  Joh.v  Stougiiton."  (Xew-York : 
Carlton  &  Phillips;   l.s53;   12mo.,  pp.  305.)     The  aim  of  this  work  is  to 


1853.]  Short  Reviews  and  Notices  of  Books.  615 

exhibit  tbe  various  phases  of  the  Christian  life  as  illustrated  in  the  real  char- 
acters of  holy  meu.  It  contains  a  number  of  sketches  of  eminent  men, — not, 
indeed,  complete  biographies,  or  even  "full-length  portraits  of  their  spiritual 
excellence ;"  but  each  set  forth  in  narrative  and  description,  for  the  purpose 
of  illustrating  some  single  element  of  vital  godliness.  Thus  "William  Tyndale 
is  taken  as  the  embodiment  of  "  labour  and  patience ;"  Leighton,  of  "  the 
peacefulness  of  faith;"  Baxter,  of "  earnest  deeiiion;"  and  Fletcher,  of  "in- 
tense devotion."  The  book  contains  twelve  guch  spiritual  biographies.  Its 
style  is  easy,  sometimes  eloquent,  and  always  agreeable.  The  work  is  adapted 
to  the  times,  and  should  be  widely  circulated. 


(52.)  ^'■Family  and  Social  Melodies,  by  W.  C.  IIoyt,"  (New- York:  Carlton 
&  Phillips;  8vo.,  pp.  224,)  contains  an  excellent  collection  of  hymns  and 
tunes,  especially  adapted  to  family  and  social  worship.  The  want  of  such  a 
work,  as  an  aid  especially  to  family  devotion,  lias  long  been  felt — the  collec- 
tions for  congregational  use  not  being  suited  to  the  purpose.  The  h}-nins  are 
taken  mostly  from  the  standard  Hymn  Book  of  the  Church,  though  selections 
are  given  from  a  variety  of  other  sources.  "  The  tunes  in  this  work  are  for 
the  most  part  plain  and  familiar  airs,  suitable  especially  for  family  and  social 
singing.  A  large  number  of  them  are  Chorals.  They  have  been  selected 
from  the  best' composers  of  olden  and  modern  times.  Together  they,  present  a 
■great  variety  of  metres,  and  form  a  most  choice  collection  of  music.  For  the 
convenience  of  those  who  use  the  Piano,  Melodeon,  Seraphine,  or  Organ,  in 
their  family  devotions,  and  are  not  professional  players,  the  Trebles  are  written 
on  one  staff."  Both  in  its  matter  and  its  form,  we  think  this  work  meets  pre- 
cisely one  of  the  Church's  urgent  needs.  Family  woi-shlp  is  incomplete  with- 
out sacred  song;  and  we  trust  this  little  book  will  cause  many  a  fur.iiy  altar, 
heretofore  silent,  to  become  vocal  with  the  praise  of  God  "  in  ps;\lms  and 
hymn*." 


(53.)  "  Philosophy  and  Practice  of  Faith,  by  Lewis  P.  Olt>s."  (New- York  : 
Carlton  &  Phillips;  12mo.,  pp.  353.)  This  book  belongs  to  a  class  tbat  has 
been  rare  of  late  years.  It  is  a  calm,  thoughtful,  yet  uncontro-versial  survey 
of  a  great  Christian  doctrine  in  its  bearings  upon  theology  in  general,  and 
upon  the  Christian  life  in  practice.  The  ^^Titer  thus  states  his  object  in  the 
preface  :  "  It  would  perhaps  be  difficult  to  mention  a  subject  in  any  department 
of  knowledge  remaining  untouched ;  but  were  we  required  to  name  one  upon 
which  such  elaboration  had  not  been  practised,  we  should  readily  say  that  of 
faith.  Kot  that  it  is  a  novel  subject,  for  it  is  one  of  the  oldest ;  nor  because  it 
has  not  been  a  theme  of  constant  allusion— for  who  listens  to  a  discourse  with- 
out hearing  it  mentioned  ? — but  that  it  has  been  too  little  discussed  by  itself, 
and  therefore  left  to  suffer  by  making  it  but  the  secondary  matter  under  con- 
sideration. Hence  there  is  no  subject  about  which,  when  called  upon,  men 
cannot  give  more  definite  and  satisfactory  replies;  the  knov.lodge  respecting 
it  appearing  detached  and  incomplete,  and  requiring  reilectioii  to  .-hajte  into 
system  the  ideas  entertained.     It  appears  as  a  skeleton  to  the  fancy,  awaitin"- 


616  Short  Revieics  and  Notices  of  Books.        [October, 

sonie  homogeneous  matter  to  fill  up  tbe  vacancies  and  make  the  body  com- 
plete. It  is  to  fill  up  this  picture  of  tlic  mind,  in  part,  that  the  present  volume 
has  been  designed ;  and  while  in  this  view  of  its  purpose  the  work  needs  no 
apologist — the  fact,  as  suggested,  being  admissible  by  every  one  giving  the 
subject  a  moment's  reflection — -the  manner  in  which  the  task  has  been  perform- 
ed must  be  submitted  to  the  most  charitable  consideration  of  the  reader."  The 
work  is  divided  into  two  parts,  of  which  the  first  treats  of  the  nature,  source, 
and  growth  of  faith;  the  second  part  illustrates  faith  as  exercised  in  ditforent 
ages,  and  under  the  various  circumstances  of  human  life.  The  book  is  one 
that  cannot  be  characterized  in  a  mere  notice  :  we  can  only  afibrd  room  for  a 
single  specimen  of  the  author's  style,  and  of  his  mode  of  treating  the  subject 
Under  the  title  "  Increase  and  Diminution  of  Faith,"  he  remarks : — 

"  The  bird  learns  to  fly  fearlessly  by  means  of  the  pupilage  of  short  and  easy 
circles  around  its  nest :  the  eagle  that  perches  upon  the  dizzy  hei.^ht,  or 
soars  along  the  verge  of  the  storm-cloud,  at  first  plumed  his  delicate  wing  with 
trembling.  The  confidence  at  first  wanting  in  these  etforts  was  supplied  by  ex- 
ample aud  encouragement.  Trial  begat  new  energy  and  purpose,  new  strength 
of  wing  and  heart,  and  the  (k'signs  were  daily  matured. 

"It  is  the  beaming  eye,  extended  hand,  and  inspiriting  voice,  that  enables  the 
child  to  take  yet  another  tottering  step — the  process  repeated,  that  gives  firm- 
ness and  assurance  to  the  tread,  and  finally  enables  him  to  sally  foilh  with  all 
the  buoyancy  of  maidiood. 

"  It  is  ascertained  that  by  use  the  muscles  of  the  body  have  their  size  and 
strength  increased.  The  arm  that  lifts  the  hammer  at  the  forge,  or  swings  the 
axe  among  the  sturdy  trees,  will  have  more  vigour  than  that  of  the  stuilt-nt. 
Not  only  so,  but  the  limbs  mostly  used  increase  in  strength  to  the  dimiuutiou 
in  vigour  of  sucli  as  are  comparatively  idle. 

"  It  is  from  similar  causes  that  the  organs  of  the  mind  derive  strengtli  and 
activity  from  exercise,  and  suffer  a  consequent  diminution  from  disuse.  .So  that 
while  one  mind  develops  astonishing  vigour,  another  is  only  of  ordinary 
strength,  or  dwarfed  into  disti-essing  ignorance.  The  airVctions  of  the  nund  arc 
governed  by  similar  laws  of  growth  or  decay,  and  when  brought  into  constant 
play  become  vigorous,  whilst  others,  neglected,  are  weakened  or  destroyed. 

"Now  as  the  child  has  its  energies  increased  by  the  confidence  inspired  by 
earnest  and  devoted  teaching,  so  the  mind  of  mangoes  on  from  strength  to  strength 
by  reason  of  encouragement  to  action.  The  poet  fancies  he  hears  the  troubadour 
chanting  his  lay  to  the  anxious  ear  of  beauty,  and  invokes  anew  the  aid  of  his 
muse.  Tlie  sculptor  and  painter  imagine  they  see  their  living  image  in  the 
niche  and  fane  of  proudest  temples,  and  they  continue  their  toils  with  renewed 
courage.  The  soldier  dreams  of  embracing  his  far-absent  -wife  aud  children,  in 
view  of  his  cottage  home,  and  his  atioctions  grow  stronger  than  ever,  while  he 
wakes  to  war  with  the  tear  in  his  eye. 

"There  is  a  confidence  inspired  from  associating  with  our  fellow-men.  Th.is 
is  of  every-flay  occurrence.  He  who  never  deceives  is  never  doubted.  'J'lie 
faithful  friend  of  life  is  a  source  of  constant  and  abiding  trust.  How  much  more 
is  confidence  in  divine  things  eidarged  Vjy  the  daily  observation  of  the  course  of 
nature,  and  the  spiritual  discernment  of  the  mysteries  of  religion.  The  sun 
rises,  and  the  eye  heliolds  him  go  down  in  glory  behind  the  western  hills  with  a 
belief  that  he  will  rise  again.  '^The  last  ro'se  of  summer  is  plucked,  and  failos. 
with  the  persuasion  that  returning  spring  will  again  beautify  the  earth  with  the 
queen  of  fiowers.  The  heart  pines  for  tranquillity  anil  peace,  the  Spirit  soothi-s 
it  with  the  balm  of  grace,  and  when  sorrow  returns,  the  heart  files  to  God  for 
comfort  again.  Like  as  ronfiilence  is  increased  between  man  and  man,  the  mind 
is  linked  to  God  in  unyielding  trust.  And  as  the  realization  of  promise  after 
promise  is  enjoyed,  the  belief  in  the  mercy  and  power  of  God  is  enlarged.^  Uy 
exercising  fiiith"  in  God,  we  therefore  become  more  able  and  prone  to  believe. 
Though  a  law  of  being,  it  can  never  become  a  moral  necessity  for  man  to  put 


1853.]  Sho7-t  Reviews  and  Notices  of  Books.  617 

confidence  in  man ;  not  because  of  innate  suspicion  that  he  may  prove  false,  but 
that  faith  is  voluntary  and  coercive ;  and  thoujrli  it  may  increase  till  apparently 
nothing  can  shake  it,  yet  it  is  possible  to  withdraw  it.  But  iu  the  unchangeable 
promises  of  God  there  is  a  surer  trust  than  anything  earthly  deserves,  and  the 
soul  reposes  with  peculiar  confidence  in  them  ;  yet  the  belief  is  voluntary,  and 
may  by  disobedience  be  destroyed.  \Yere  earthly  friendship  or  love  to  God 
involuntary  emotions,  the  one  could  never  be  broken  nor  the  other  fail.  But  it 
beinp;  otherwise,  effort  is  needed  to  maintain  both. 

"By  tlic  exercise  of  an  emotion  it  becomes  easier  to  exercise  it  again,  and  by 
disuse  the  power  to  use  it  is  diminished.  This  admitted,  there  is  cause  for  conti- 
dence  with  the  pious,  as  every  efifort  at  obedience  but  the  better  fits  them  for  duty. 
So  considering  the  traveller  to  eternity  as  making  each  act  of  faith  and  obedience 
a  remove  in  the  direction  of  heaven, "and  at  the  same  time  a  like  remove  from 
destruction,  the  pilcrrimage  of  the  pious  becomes  exciting  and  hopeful,  or  har- 
rowing and  doubtful.  The  last  step  must  be  taken  that  effects  deliverance  or 
ruin.  All  have  their  faces  Zionward,  or  are  hastening  toward  destruction. 
Each  of  us  is  now  at  some  point  in  this  way  to  life  or  death  I" 

We  hope  that  this  thoughtful  and  discriminating  book  may  find  many 
readers. 


(54.)  ".'1  Theodicy;  or,  Vindication  of  the  Divine  Glory,  as  Manifested  in 
the  Constitution  and  Government  of  the  Moral  World,  liy  Alueut  Taylor 
Bledsoe,  rrotessor  of  ^Mathematics  and  Astronomy  in  the  University  of  Mis- 
sissippi." (Xew-York:  Carlton  &  Phillips;  1853  ;  Svo.,pp.  3G5.)  A  mere  notice 
can  do  no  justice  to  a  work  so  important  and  valuable  as  this.  The  title  reveals 
tlic  <Treatness  of  the  author's  undertaking— nothing  less  than  a  ree.xanunatiou 
of  the  problem  which  has  baffled  both  metaphysics  and  theology  for  ages. 
We  can  onlj-  now  indicate  the  autlior's  outline.  The  introduction  treats  of  the 
possibility  of  a  Theodicy,  sliOAvIng  that  the  failure  of  riato,  Leibnilz.  and 
others,  is  not  properly  a  "ground  of  despair ;  and  that  tlie  attempt  is  justified  by 
what  we  know  of  the  moral  universe  and  of  the  nature  of  the  hunun  mind. 
The  work  is, then,  divided  into  two  parts,  of  which  the  kiu.^t  shows  that  "the 
existence  of  moral  evil  is  consistent  with  the  holiness  of  God."  This  topic  is 
treated  in  seven  chapters,  whose  titles  are  a?  follows:  "  Chap.  I^  The  scheme 
of  necessity  denies  that  man  is  responsible  for  the  existence  of  sin ;  Cliap.  TI. 
The  scheme  of  necessity  makes  God  the  author  of  sin  ;  Chap.  III.  The  scheme 
of  necessity  denies  the  reality  of  moral  distinctions  :  Chap.  IV.  Tlie^moral 
■world  not  constituted  according  to  the  scheme  of  necessity ;  Chaj).  V.  The 
relation  between  the  human  will  and  the  divine  agency ;  Chap.  YI.  The  ex- 
istence of  moral  evil,  or  sin,  reconciled  with  the  holiness  of  God;  Chap.  VII. 
Objections  considered." 

The  SECOXi)  PART  shows  that  "  the  existence  of  natural  evil,  or  suficring, 
is  consistent  vNnth  the  goodness  of  God."  This  is  treated  in  five  chapters,  as 
follows:  "  Chap.  I.  God  desires  and  seeks  the  salvation  of  all  men;  Chap.  II. 
Natural  evil,  or  sulTcrlng,  and  especially  the  suffering  of  intants,  reconciled  with 
the  goodness  of  God;  Chap.  III.  The  sufferings  of  Christ  reconciled  with  the 
goodness  of  God;  Chap.  IV.  The  eternal  punishment  of  the  wicked  reconciled 
with  the  coodness  of  (.iod ;  Chap.  V.  The  dispensation  of  the  divine  favours 
reconciled  with  the  goodness  of  God."  Tlic  author  gives,  in  conclusion,  a 
summary  view  of  the  principles  and  advantages  of  the  whole  system. 

Fourth  Seuies,  Yoi.  V.— 39 


618  Short  Reviews  and  Notices  of  Books.  [October 

!Mr.  Bledsoe  -writes  clearly  and  -svcll.  His  style  is  more  popular  than  has 
been  usiual  In  discasslons  of  this  sort,  so  that  his  book,  while  it  vill  necessarily 
draw  the  attention  of  the  deepest  thinkers,  is  yet  adapted  to  the  perusal  of  all 
cultivated  readers.  We  shall  return  to  It  again,  for  a  fuller  examination,  as 
soon  as  possible. 


(55.)  "  Handbuck  des  Methodismus,  von  LuDWia  S.  Jacoby."  (Bremen : 
1853;  12mo.,  pp.  388.)  This  work,  prepared  by  our  excellent  missionary 
superintendent  at  Bremen,  is  designed  to  furnish  the  German  nations  of 
Europe  with  a  better  and  more  accurate  knowledge  of  ^Methoilism  than  has 
heretofore  been  diffused  among  them.  It  is  divided  Into  four  parts:  first,  a 
brief  history  of  IMuthodism  from  the  beginning  up  to  the  present  time,  (pp. 
1-198;)  second,  an  account  of  the  doctrines  of  the  Church,  (pp.  199-291;) 
third,  the  Church  government  of  Methodism,  (pp.  295-354  ;)  fourth,  the 
peculiar  usages  of  Methodism,  (pp.  35G-3SS.)  It  is  precisely  such  a  compen- 
dium as  is  needed  in  Germany ;  and  we  should  think  it  admirably  adapted, 
also,  for  circulation  among  the  Germans  In  this  country.  The  work  is  not 
a  translation,  but  is  conscientiously  and  skilfully  prepared  from  the  original 
sources.  We  rejoice  to  see  our  system  set  forth  before  the  scholars  and 
Christians  of  Germany  in  a  book  so  clear,  sensible,  and  judicious. 


(56.)  Of  the  following  serials,  sermons,  Sec,  we  regret  that  we  can  give 
nothing  more  than  the  titles  : — 

Catalogue  of  White- Water  College,  Centreville,  Indiana,  1852-3. 

Catalogue  of  Ohio  University,  185  2-3. 

Anniversarv-  Address  before  the  Union  ^Missionary  Society,  lu  the  University 
of  Mii'higan,  delivered  at  Ann  Arbor,  June  26th,  1853,  by  Professor  E.  O. 
Haven. 

Catalogue  of  Danville  Seminary,  1852-3. 

Anniversary  Address  of  the  Freehold  Young  Ladies'  Seminary,  by  Robert 
Davidson,  D.  I). 

Catalo'^ue  of  the  Albion  Female  Institute  and  Western  Seminary,  1852-3. 

Catalogue  of  Rock-Elver  Seminary,  Mount  Morris,  111.,  1852-3. 

Circular  of  Genesee  !Modcl  School  for  Boys,  Lima,  New- York. 

First  Annual  Report  of  the  2scw-York  Young  Men's  Christian  Association, 
presented  :May  IG,  1853. 

First  Annual  Report  of  the  People's  Washing  and  Bathing  Association,  1 853. 

Thirty-Seventh  Anniversary  Address  of  the  American  Bible  Society. 

Thirty-First  Report  of  the  American  Baptist  Home  iMission  Society. 

Ecclesiastical  Opposition  to  the  Bible :  a  Serial  Sermon.  By  Thomas  II. 
Stockton. 

Thirtv-Third  Annual  Report  of  the  jSIercantile  Librarj-  Association  of 
Boston,  1853. 

The  Cross  of  Christ.     By  Davis  W.  Clark,  D.  D. 

Letters  respecting  the  American  Board  of  Commissioners  for  Foreign  5IIs- 
slons,  and  the  American  Tract  Society.     By  W.  Jay. 


1853.] 


Theoloorical  and  Relin-ioiis. 


619 


AiiT.  IX.— INTELLIGENCE. 

iLl)cological   nub   Uclijgiou! 

EUKOPEAX. 


We  have  received  the  second  part  of 
Reuss's  "  Geschichte  dor  IL.Higon  Svltn'/tcii 
Sciitn  Tcitamcnts,''  (Braunschweig,',  1S53, 
Svo.,  pp.  536,)  completing,'  the  worlc.  This 
second  edition  is  brought  down  to  the 
latest  period,  and  affords  the  best  com- 
peudium  of  the  history  of  the  literature 
of  the  Xew  Testament  of  which  -vve  are 
aware.  Like  all  other  German  books,  it 
is  most  deficient  in  that  part  which  treats 
of  the  works  of  English  and  American 
writers,  of  whom  the  author  frankly  con- 
fesses his  ignorance. 

"  7>(''j  Awihijimrj  doi  Vatenuificr,  von 
G.  C.  R.  M.vTTHAEi,"  (Gottingen  :  1853  ; 
8vo.,  pp.  162,)  is  an  interpretation  of  the 
Lord's  Prayer,  olYered  as  an  illustration 
and  application  of  what  the  author  calls 
the  "highest  principle  of  Xew  Testament 
liermeueutics."  According  to  his  view, 
there  never  has  been  a  satisfactory  exe- 
gesis of  the  New  Testament,  and  never 
can  be,  without  the  application  of  this 
j)rinciple ;  which  is  the  interpreting 
Christ's  word  according  to  Christ's  own 
self-consciousness,  1.  As  to  God — Father 
■ — Son  and  Spirit ;  2.  As  to  P.evelation, 
the  Messiah,  and  the  Future  Life.  A 
critique  is  afforded  of  the  various  interpre- 
tations of  the  Lord's  Prayer,  given  by 
the  allegorical,  the  rationalistic,  and 
the  supernatural  interpreters,  and  each 
is  shown  to  be  defective.  Certainly  we 
have  fouud  no  German  writer  of  late 
years  so  straightforward,  clear,  and 
tnnrhant.  Mttthai  is  a  moderate  Hege- 
lian, we  believe — at  least  we  should  infer 
so  from  this  acute  book. 

A  XEW  volume  of  "  Theolor/lcal  Ensayi)," 
(Ijoudon,  1  vol.,  Svo.,)  by  Professor 
^laurice,  has  just  appeared.  Its  contents 
are  as  follows  :  1.  On  Charity  ;  2.  On  Sin  ; 
3.  On  the  Evil  Spirit  ;  4.  On  the  Sense  of 
Righteousness  in  Men,  and  their  Discov- 
ery of  a  Redeemer  ;  5.  On  the  Sonof  God  ; 
6.  On  the  Incarnation  ;  7.  On  the  Atone- 
ment ;  8.  On  the  llcsuvrection  of  the  Son 
of  God  from  LX'ath,  the  Grave,  and  Hell  ; 
t».  On  Justification  by  Faith  ;  10.  On  Re- 
generation; 11.  On  the  Ascension  of 
Christ ;  12.  On  the  Judgment-Day  ;  13.  On 
Inspiration  ;  II.  <.)n  the  Personality  and 
.Teaching  of  the  IWy  Spirit;    15.  On  the 


Unity  of  the  Church;  IG.  On  the  Trinity 
in  L'nity  ;  Conclusion,  on  Eternal  Life 
and  Eternal  Death. 

Dop.XEr's  "  Lihrc  von  der  J^rton  Chrietl," 
though  incomplete,  is  the  most  thorough 
and  learned  treatise  on  the  doctrine  oi"'the 
Person  of  Christ  that  has  yet  appeared  in 
any  language.  We  are  glad  to  see  another 
volume  announced  as  ready  in  Berlin,  con- 
taining the  history  of  the  doctrine  of  the 
Trinity  from  the  fifth  century  up  to  the 
time  of  the  Reformation.  The  concluding 
volume  of  the  work  is  promised  before 
January,  1854. 

We  have  received  the  first  number  cf 
Herzog's  " Btal-Eiiri/ij/ojxrdic  far  j./-vf'-s- 
triiiti^die  Theoloijic  w\d  Kirche,"  ;Stut- 
gard,  1S53,  Svo.)  The  work  is  intended 
to  form  a  complete  cyclopedia  of  the  sci- 
ences connected  with  theolocry,  and  has 
among  the  names  of  its  coliabor^iiurs  a 
number  of  the  most  eniincnt  men  in 
Germany,  namely,  Ullmann,  Th.-luck, 
Umbreit,  Hageubach,  Gieseler,  Miiller, 
and  others.  It  is  to  appear  ia  me-.;th!y 
parts,  ten  to  form  a  volume,  aiul  the 
whole  work  to  be  completed  in  about  lea 
volumes  royal  Svo.  The  part  before  us 
contains  eighty  pages,  and  extends  down 
to  the  word  Ahraxas. 

TuE  election  of  a  new  Ctuerai  of  the 
Jesuits  is  matter  of  interest  to  the  entire 
ecclesiastical  world.  The  late  General 
RooTH.*.}.-  wasperhai'S  the  ablest  head  the 
Society  was  ever  ruled  by.  Endowed 
with  a  mind  of  singular  acutene?s,  he 
was  a  man  also  of  great  acquirements  and 
skill:  and  the  recent  revival  of  Jesuitism 
in  all  lands  is  due  mainly  to  his  dijtin- 
guished  genius  and  industry.  It  i-  said 
that  during  the  later  years  of  his  life  he 
was  not  only  General  of  his  Order,  but 
dc  facto  Pope.  It  was  also  Roothan  who 
authorized,  presided  over,  and  con<luc:tJ 
to  a  successful  issue,  a  scheme  fur  adapt- 
in-,'  the  course  of  btudios  in  Jesuit  schools 
to~  the  actual  re(|uirernents  of  the  age, 
proceeding  in  the  spirit  of  Dr.  Wisemau's 
book  on  tlie  connexiuu  l>ctween  science 
and  religi  m.  In  other  wurds,  it  was  he 
who  guided  Jesuitism  into  its  present  po- 
sition of  educational   power,  and  made  it 


620 


Intellis:ence. 


[October, 


possible  for  the  successors  of  the  men 
■who  imprisoned  Galileo  to  exhibit  them- 
selves as  teachers  and  advocates  of  niod- 
ern  science.  The  new  General  is  PKTEn 
Ef.cks,  a  Belgian,  and  the  third  of  that 
nation  who  has  been  counted  among  the 
successors  of  Ignatius.  He  is  said  to 
have  (exoterically)  as  strong  an  admira- 
tion for  saintish  fables  as  Father  New- 
man, and  quite  able  to  nourish  the 
infatuated  youth  of  this  generation  who 
go  over  to  Rome  to  satisfy  their  morbid 
appetite.  He  can  give  them  legend  and 
falsification  to  their  heart's  content.  He 
was  born  February  Sth,  ITOo,  and  entered 
into  the  Order  October  29,  1810.  He 
subsequently  tilled  the  Rcctorate  of  the 
Seminary  at  Lwen,  and  afterward  the 
government  of  the  Order  in  the  Province 
of  Austria.  According  to  the  Nexc-York 
Trihnne,  "  his  character,  his  talents,  his 
tried  discretion  in  the  most  delicate  emer- 
gencies, are  a  guarantee  that  he  will 
prove  a  worthy  successor  to  the  distin- 
guished Father  Roothan.  He  was  elected 
■\vith  great  unanimity  by  the  General  Con- 
gregation, and  his  accession  to  otfice  is 
hailed  by  the  Society  of  Jesuits  as  giving 
promise  of  the  richest  fnuts  for  the  benefit 
of  their  Order."  The  same  account  states 
that  the  General  Congregation  which 
made  the  election  -was  the  twenty-second 
since  the  establishment  of  the  Order,  and 
consisted  of  fifty-two  members — fifteen 
from  the  department  of  Italy,  with  the 
provinces  of  Rome,  Xajdes.  Sicily,  Turin 
and  Venice, — nine  from  France,  including 
the  provinces  of  Paris.  Lyons,  and  Tou- 
louse,— twenty  from  the  department  of 
Germany,  with  the  provinces  of  Germany, 
England,  Austria,  Belgium,  Gallicia,  Hol- 
land and  Maryland,  and  three  from  Spain. 
The  number  was  completed  by  the  addi- 
tion of  Father  Pierling,  the  Vicar  General, 
and  one  assistant  from  each  department. 
The  solemnities  are  opened  by  the  cele- 
bration of  mass  by  the  vicar,  after  which 
the  whole  company  of  members  of  the 
Order  present,  with  a  crucifix  borne  be- 
fore them,  and  singing  the  Veni  Creator, 
■walk  in  procession  to  the  hall  designated 
by  the  vicar,  which,  after  the  members 
have  entered,  is  closed  and  guarded  by 
some  of  the  members  selected  fi>r  the 
purpose.  The  electors  fast  on  bread  and 
water,  and  are  not  allowed  to  leave  the 
hall  until  the  choice  is  decided.  One  of 
the  members,  appointed  by  the  congre- 
gation, admonishes  them  in  a  Latin  dis- 
course, to  keep  a  sin.'le  eye  to  the  glory 
of  God  and  the  benefit  of  their  Order  in 
making  the  choice.     Each  member  then 


receives  a  card,  on  -which  he  writes,  in  a 
disguised  hand,  the  nanie  of  his  candi- 
date, adding  his  signature  in  a  way  that 
it  shall  not  be  read  by  those  who  count 
the  ballots.  After  all  the  members  have 
prepared  their  votes  and  returned  to  their 
seats,  the  vicar,  the  private  secretary,  and 
the  assistant,  take  the  following  oath  to 
make  true  declaration  of  the  votes :  "  I 
call  God  to  witness,  from  whom  nothing 
is  concealed,  that  I  -will  truly  receive  and 
declare  the  votes,  and  will  perform  my 
duty  with  pure  purpose.  1  also  swear,  in 
the  view  of  the  Divine  Majesty  and  of  the 
whole  Order,  that  I  ■nill  admit  no  one 
who  has  not  a  right  to  be  admit*cd,  and 
I  will  exclude  no  one  who  ought  not  to  ho 
excluded."  The  private  secretary  then 
turns  to  the  vicar,  with  the  words,  "  5Iy 
father,  give  your  vote  in  the  nnme  of 
Jesus  Christ. ■"  The  vicar  rises,  kneels 
before  the  crucifix,  makes  the  sign  of  the 
cross,  and  takes  the  oath  which  is  in- 
scribed on  the  back  of  each  ballot.  I 
take  Jesus  Christ,  ■who  is  Eternal  AVis- 
dom,  to  witness  that  I  choose  for  the 
General-in-Chief  of  the  Society  of  Jesus, 
him  whom  I  regard  as  the  fittest  for  the 
office."  Then  rising,  he  deposits  his  vote 
in  the  urn,  showing  it  to  the  assistant. 
He  then  salutes  the  crucifix,  returns  to 
his  seat,  and  says  to  the  secretary,  the 
assistant,  and  the  members  generally, 
"  Let  each  now  give  his  vote  in  order." 
The  provincials  sit  on  the  riglit.the  other 
members  on  the  left,  according  to  the 
diUe  of  their  admission  into  the  Order. 
When  the  members,  in  accordance  with 
their  oath,  have  all  given  their  votes,  the 
secretary  takes  them  from  the  urn,  counts 
them  aloud,  and  hands  them  one  after  the 
other  to  the  vicar,  who  examines  them 
and  reads  them  aloud,  or  causes  the  sec- 
retary to  read  them,  giving  only  the  name 
of  the  candidate,  and  concealing  that  of 
the  voter.  After  all  the  votes  arc  thus 
announced,  if  any  one  has  more  than 
half,' he  is  elected.  Otherwise,  they  pro- 
ceed to  a  new  balloting,  which  may  W 
repeated  four  or  five  times,  but  after  the 
fifth  trial  it  is  optional  to  continue  the 
balloting,  or  to  enter  into  a  compromise. 
In  the  last  case,  electors  are  chosen  from 
each  department  by  an  absolute  majority, 
who  elect  the  General  by  a  simple  plu- 
rality, being  limited,  however,  to  candi- 
d.-^tes  who  have  received  at  least  tliree 
votes  on  the  former  trials.  The  choice 
being  determined,  the  vicar  announces  it, 
unless  it  has  fallen  upon  himfelf,  and  in 
that  case  it  is  declared  by  the  s.  crctary. 
who  makes  out  the  decree,  which  receiver 


1S53.]  Theological  and  Religious.  621 

the  seal  of  the  Societv.  The  whole  com-  ern  and  Southern  Ocean,"  the  present 
puny  of  the  fathers,  the  vicar  fiist,  then  character  and  condidon  of  that  Church 
the  secretary,  pay  their  respects  to  the  becomes  matter  of  the  gravest  interest, 
new  General,  kneeling  and  kissing  his  Great  attention  has  been  paid  to  the  sub- 
hand  If  the  choice  has  fallen  on  a  per-  ject  of  late,  and  the  following  works  are 
sou  out  of  the  congre-atiun,  but  present  among  its  fruits,  namely :—"  Disserta- 
in  the  citv,  the  assembly  do  not  leave  tions  on  Subjects  Relating  to  the  '  Ortho- 
the  bill  until  they  have  called  him  into  dox  '  or  '  Ea-steru-Catholic '  Communion, 
their  presence  and  paid  him  their  fealty.  By  W.  Palmer,  M.  A.,  Tellow  of  Magda- 
Ifhe  is  at  the  distance  of  eight  or  tea  len  College,  Oxford.  1  vo  .,  ^vo.:— 
davs'  journey,  he  is  sent  for,  the  cangre-  History  of  the  Holy  Eastern  Church,  by 
-ation  suspending  their  labours  until  his  the  Rev.  J.  M.  ^'eale,  M.  A.  General  In- 
"irrival  It  is  not  permitted  to  decline  troduction.  I.  Its  Geography.  U.  Its 
the  choice  Uter  the  act  of  obedience,  Ecclesiology.  HI.  Its  Liturgies,  &c.  In 
the  father  who  has  charge  of  the  keys  of  two  large  volumes,  demy  Svo. :— -M^peji- 
the  hall,  announces  that  the  election  is  dis  to  the  Introduction  to  the  Holy 
completed,  the  ballots  are  burned,  and  Eastern  Church:  containing  a  List  of  all 
the  con  -relation  return  in  procession  to  the  Sees  in  the  Holy  Eastern  Church, 
the  chureh",  sin-ing  the  '■  li-  nolictus  Dom-  with  the  Names  of  the  Ros^es^ors  as  they 
,•„„.,,"  when  a  Tc  Dcu.a  is  performed,  and  existed  in  1848.  Translated  from  the 
the  usual  prayer  said  to  the  Holy  Trinity  original  Russ,  with  Notes,  l.y  the  same 
and  the  Virgin.  The  election  of  Father  Author  :— The  History  of  the  1  atriarchate 
Becks  took  place  at  Rome  on  the  :.'d  of  of  Alexandria,  from  its  loundation  A.  1». 
July      The  following  votes  were  cast :—      44,  to  the  death  of  Hierotheus,  1840.    By 

V„,  Kc,   Father  l-,«,h»g,  ^  K-ar-  J^!';, ';te'"p°,™or  .r  S,,dlins  Boot,  the 

R.putv  of  the  Proviuce  ot  Paris  4  lf»'«  ""  '>"„""'{.  "„,;   1    ;'„ S,  ' 

P.ev.  kt-her  P.ttbiUon,  A.i.tat.t  of  IX^^:!^^:^::^':^^ 

.^ShiVrJtik;^:::;::;;^:  i    -tS:^':J"hS"fSS";:J^™ 

Th?:  thirty-seventh  volume  of  the  '•  Li-  .^^  ^^^  Appendix   to  the  volume  entitled, 

brarv  of  the'  Fathers,"  (published  by   J.  .  rj-j^^  poctrine   of    the  Russian  Church,' 

H.  Tarker,  London,)  contains  the  transla-  j.gj.gnti..  published  by  the  same  Author, 

tion  of  St.  Augustine  on  the  Psalms,  Vol.  V.  j^^^^^.  g^.^  ._^^  History  of  th.-  Cli ureh  of 

Tacciixitz,  of  Leipsic,  has  just   pub-  Prussia.     By  A.  N.  Mouravioff,  Chamber- 

lished      "  C<inon€a    et     Decrcta      ConciUi  j.^iu  to  His  Majesty,  and  Under-Rrocurator 

Trid-'ntini     ex      Edittone       JRctmana      A.  (,f  t^Q    Most   Holy  governing    Svnod,   bt. 

MDCCL'NXXIV      n>'pctitL     Accedunt    S.  Petersburgh,    translated    by     the     same 

Cougr.  Card.  Cone.  Trid.  Interpretum  ])ec-  Author.     Devotions  Enjoined  by  the  Holy 

larationos  Ac  Resolutiones  ex  Ipso  Dec-  Eastern  Church,  ij)amphlet.)' 

hirationum  Thesauro  Bullario  Romano  et  ,,  j^^j,^j„,,f,  ^cr  Katechetik,  zu.jlcich  eine 

Benedicti  XIV.   S.   P.  Operibus  et  Consti-  .J^XdlsKatech.'ti.chn.  L.hrcerfahnns, 

tutiones    Pontifieioe    Recentiores    ad   jus  ^^^^;°7V  Pl.to.  Professor  zu  Leipzig." 

Commune  Spectantes  E   Bullario  Romano  ^on  t.   ^-    ^^.^^^.,    ^.  o^l ^      This 

Select..       Assnmpto     Socio       Hui^Knico  (^e^P  ...^          :^          ^^  valuable  informa- 

ScHvi-TE,     J      U.     D     /--'^^^'\,;\^^"  .'  tion    on    the    subject    of    cateehization, 

{SnS^l'SllJ^^li  0;d^  ^1^-k  arranged  in  a  clear  and  scientiUo  order 

is  published  in  imperial  8vo.,  and  costs,  in  ^  etuef  treatise,  exhibiting  .a  parallel 

this  country,  about  $4  50.  vievv  of  the  theological  systems  of  Ivoman- 

IP  it  be  "true,  as  a   recent  earnest  and  ism    and  Prote^taiitism   is  a  ^^-^^^ 

well-informed    writer   remarks,  that    the  in    th^    ^  "S^-^,  :"^=  \=^f  \,,ftro      s      n- 

GrEFK  Currcii    is    eventually    destined,  manual,   m    German,  lie.-,    btlorc   us,  en 

ur.ti-.K   V.  HI  1.1  "     »->  ♦:,l„l    ii  J),,„  llk,!intiuH$  drr  Evaunrhechcn 

chiefly  through  the  power  ot  Russia,  "to  titled      !>■">  '"'■'"           .    .            •'^^       ^;,^ 

regain    the  whole   of   the  Gra^co-Eastern  AV./,o  .n   s,nuev.    \a-haltu.^  .«    '/ «  Ur 

Einnire   and  even  to  cover  Asia,  and  ex-  ROmi.cha^    vnJ   Gmcln^rha,     von    l)r.   A. 

Sudto'the  uttermost  shores  of  the  East-  Hah.v.    Professor   zu   Breslau."  ^Leipzig. 


622 


Intelligence. 


[October, 


1853,  8vo.,  pp.  102.)  Dr.  Haliii  is  a 
very  careful  Tvriter,  temperate  in  his 
feelings,  and  moderate  in  his  language. 
After  a  brief  introduction,  defining  the 
true  Church,  Dr.  Hahn  compares  the 
doctrines  of  the  three  Churches,  (drawn 
from  the  standard  formulas  of  each,) 
first,  with  regard  to  the  Object  of  Ke- 
ligious  Worship  ;  second,  with  regard  to 
the  doctrines  of  Sin  and  Salvation ; 
third,  with  regard  to  the  Means  of 
Grace,  (including  the  Word  of  God  and 
the  Sacraments  ;}  fourth,  with  regard  to 
the  Future  State.  We  should  like  to  see 
a  work  prepared  on  such  a  basis  for  Eng- 
lish readers. 

Among  the  now  theological  works  re- 
cently announced  in  Great  Britain  are 
the  following  : — 

Dissertation  on  the  Origin  and  Connex- 
ion of  the  Gospels  ;  with  a  Synopsis  of 
the  Parallel  Passages  in  the  Original  and 
Authorized  Version,  and  Critical  Notes. 
By  James  Smith,  Esq.,  Author  of  the 
"  Voyage  and  Shipwreck  of  St.  Paul." 
8vo.  : — The  Warburtou  Lectures  of  lb-i9- 
1853.  By  the  Kev.  E.  1!.  Elliott,  M.  A. 
Svo. : — The  Jesuits  ;  an  Historical  Sketch. 
By  the  Rev.  E.  W.  Grintield,  M.  A.  Fcp. 
Svo.  : — Israel  in  Egypt.  Illustrations  of 
the  Book  of  Genesis,  from  Egyptian  Mon- 
uments. Crown  8vo.,  with  engraviu'gs  : — 
An  Exposition  of  the  Epistle  of  Paul  the 
Apostle  to  the  Galatians,  by  Professor 
John  Brown,  of  Edinburgh.  Large  Svo.  : — 
The  Sufterings  and  Glories  of  the  Messiah, 
signified  bi^foreliand  to  David  and  Laiah: 
an  Exposition  of  Psalm  xviii,  and  Isaiah 
iii,  13;  liii,  12.  By  Professor  John 
Brown,  of  Edinburgh,  Svo. :— The  Third 
Part  of  the  Ecclesiastical  History  of  John, 
Bishop  of  Ephesus,  (the  Syriac  Text.)  now 
first  edited  by  William  Cureton,  M.  A., 
F.  B.  S.,  Chaplain  in  Ordinary  to  the 
Queen.  1  vol.,  -Ito. :— The  Doctrine  of 
the  Holy  Eucharist.  By  Archdeacon 
Wilberforce.     Demy  Svo. 

Anoxo  the  new  works  in  theology  and 
kindred  topics,  recently  announced  on  the 
continent  of  Europe,  are  the  following : — 
Bernstein,  G.  H.,  Das  heilige  Evauge- 
lium  des  Johannes.  Syriseh  iu  Harkleu- 
sischer  Uebersetzung.  Mit  syrischem 
titel  und  vignette.     Leipzig  :  Svo. 

Chalybaus,  H.  M.,  Philosophic  und 
Christenthum.  Eiu  Boitrag  zur  Begrun- 
dung  der  Religions-Philosophic.  Kiel, 
8to.,  pp.  188. 

Ewald,  n.,  Geschichte  des  Volkes 
Israel  bis  Christus.  Zweite  Ausgabe. 
2  Bd.     A.    u.  d.  T.:    Geschichte   Moses 


und  der  Gottherrschaft  in   Israel.     Got- 
tingen :  8vo.,  pp.  5GG. 

Meyer,  E.  J.,  Ueber  das  Verhaltniss 
Jesu  und  seiner  Jiinger  zum  alttestament- 
lichen  Gesetz.  Magdeburg:  8vo.,  pp. 
137. 

Nagelsbach,  Dr.  C.  W.  E.,  der  Gott- 
mensch.  I>ie  GrunJidee  der  OfTenbaruug 
in  ihrer  Eiuhcit  und  geschichtliclitu  J>n- 
twicklung  dargestellt.  1  Bd.  Der  Mens.h 
der  Natur.     Nurnberg  :  Svo.,  pp.  4.32. 

Reuss,  E.,  Die  Geschichte  der  heiligen 
Schrifteu  neuen  Testaments.  Zwiite 
durchaus  ungearbeitete  und  stark  \er- 
mehrte  Ausgabe.  II.  Abth.  8.  Braun- 
schweig :  pp.  2G6-5S(5. 

Der  Gottesdienst  der  Alteu  Kirche. 
Ein  Vortrag  von  H.  Abeckeu.  Svo. 
Berlin. 

Die  Gesellschaft  Jesu,  ihr  Zweck,  ihre 
Satzungen,  Geschichte,  Aufgabe  und 
Stellung  in  der  Gegenwart  von  F.  J.' 
Buss.  In  Zwei  Abtheilungen.  I.  Ab- 
theilung  :  Weftgeschichtliche  Vorberei- 
tungen,  Stlftung  und  Satzungen  der 
Gesellschaft  Jesu.  Svo.  (viii  }.p.  and 
]ip.  1-GiO.)  Mainz.  The  second  part 
(pp.  641-end)  will  be  issued  shortly. 
The  author  of  this  history  of  the  Jesuits, 
though  not  avowedly  belonging  to  the  socie- 
ty, appears  to  embrace  the  Roman  views. 
Concordantiarum  SS.  Scripturro  Mann- 
ale,  editio  in  commodissimnm  ordinem 
disposita  et  cum  ipso  textii  sacro  de  verbo 
ad  verbum  sexies  collata  de  Raze,  de  La- 
chaud  et  Flandria.  Svo.  (viii  and  751  pp.) 
Paderborn. 

Corpus  Reformatorum.  Post  C.  G. 
Bretschneiderum  ed.  H.  E.  Bindseil. 
Vol.  XIX.  Et.  s.  t.  :  Ph.  Melancthonis 
opera  quae  supersunt  omnia  vol.  XIX. 
4to.     Braunschweig. 

Xeue  Untersuchung  Ueber  Entstehung 
und  Anla^e  der  kanouischen  Evangelieu 
von  Prof.  Dr.  F.  Delitzsch.  1.  Thl. :  Das 
Matthaus-Evangelium.  Svo.  (112  pp.) 
Leipzig. 

Compendium  Ethicas  Christianje  Cath- 
olics. In  usum  lectionum  acadomica- 
rum.  Ed.  Prof.  Dr.  B.  Diockhotl'.  Fasc. 
II.  Continens  ex  ethica  spcciali  tractatus 
de  religione  interna  et  externa.  Svo. 
(vi  pp!  and  pp.  140-201.)  Pader- 
born. 

Geschichte  des  Volkes  Israel  Bis 
Christus  von  H.  Ewald.  2te  Ausg.  2ter 
Band;  a.  u.  d.  T. :  Geschichte  Mose's 
und  der  Gottesherrschaft  in  Israel.  2te 
Ausgabe.  8vo.  (ix  and  ;j(^(i  pp.)  Gottin- 
gen. 


1853.] 


Classical  and  Miscellaneous. 


623 


Lehrbuch  der  Kircbengeschichte  von 
Dr.  J.  C.  L.  Gieseler.  3ter  lid.  2te  Abth. 
2.  Till.  8vo.  (vi  pp.  and  pp.  481-7i.'J.) 
Bonn. 

Vita  Jesu  Christl  A  Paulo  Apostolo 
Adumbrata.  Commentatio  a  E.  "W.  Kol- 
thotf.     8vo.  {i>b  pp.)  Hafuice,  lSd3. 

Das  Jobanneiscbe  Evangellum  uach 
seiner  Eigeuthiimliohkoit  -esebililert  und 
erklart  vou  Ch.  E.  LutharJt.  2te  Abth. 
8vo.     Niirnbirg. 

Commentarius  Criticus  in  X.  T.  quo 
loca  graviora  et  diftcLliora  kctiouis  du- 
biae  accurate  recensentur  et  explicaiuur 
Dr.  J.  G.  Reiche.  Tom.  I.  Epistolas  Pauli 
ad  Romanes  et  ad  Coriuthios  datas  con- 
tinent, -ito.  (vi  and  409  pp.)  Gottin- 
gen. 

Die  Christlicbe  Religion  von  Dr.  J. 
Scheinert.  Ister  Bd.  Svo.  (iv  and  i7 'J  pp.) 
Konigsberg. 

We  continue  our  b\nnmarics  of  the 
contents  of  the  principal  foreign  theologi- 
cal journals : — 

The  "  TiieulorjUche  Studkn  und  Kriti- 
fc«i,"  for  Julv,  lS-53,  (Hamburgh,)  con- 
tains thefoUo'wini:  articles  :  1.  Confession 
and  Union,  by  Professor  Schoberlein,  of 
Heidelberg,  showing  the  difEculties  and 
arguing  the  possibilities  of  union  among 
the    diflercnt    branches   of    the   Church; 

2.  An  Inquiry  into  the  question  whether 
Cyrus  the  Great,  the  fuunJer  of  the  Medo- 
Persian  monarchv,  was  identical  with  the 
Cyrus    of  Daniel^  by    Schulz,  of  Berlin ; 

3.  A  Ilomiletical  Essay  on  the  proper 
place  of  the  exordium— whether  before 
or  after  the  text— of  the  sermon ;  4.  Re- 
view of  Gobel's  "  Geschichte  des  Christ- 
lichen  Lebeus  in  der  iheinisch-west- 
phiUischeu  Kirche,"  by  Wachtler  ;  5.  Re- 


view   of    Meyer's    "  Blitter    fur    liohere 
■\Vahrheit,"  by  Hamberger. 

Chrhtiati  Rcmemhruncfr,  for  July: — 
I.  Recent  Metaphysics :  II.  Miss  Yonge's 
Novels  :  lU.  Palmer's  Dissertations  :  lY. 
The  Cloister-Life  of  the  Emperor  Charles 
the  Fifth  :  V.  Alford's  Greek  Testament, 
Vol.  II. :  VI.  Modern  Poetry  :  VII.  Church 
Penitentiary  Association:  Vlll.  Spicile- 
gium  Solesmense. 

J.nirwd  of  Sacred  Literature,  for  July  :— 
I.  The  Rivers  of  Damascus  :  II.  Armenian 
Translation  of  Eusebius  :  HI.  On  the  Sa- 
maritan Pentateuch:  IV.  The  Sinaitic 
Inscriptions  :  V.  Collation  of  the  Gospels  : 
VI.  The  Nestorians:  VII.  Syriac  Metrical 
Literature  :  VIIL  The  Meaning  of  Scrip- 
ture Silence  :  IX.  On  the  "  Running  "  of 
St.  Paul. 

Ecleciic  Redew,  for  My  .—I.  The  Ref- 
ormation in  England :  II.  -•Vnirling  Liter- 
ature :  IIL  Poperv  — Its  Genius  and 
Policy:  IV.  Woodward's  History  of 
Wales :  V.  The  Law  of  :*Iortmaiu  :  "N  L 
The  Art-Student  in  Munich  :  VII.  Clmrch 
r.ates— Recent  Parliamentary  Debate: 
VIIL  India— Its  Government  and  Pros- 
pects. For  Aurjnst  .—I.  On  Specimens  of 
\atural  History  :  II.  The  Kingdoms  of 
Central  Africa  :  UI.  The  History  of  Trial 
bv  Jury :  IV.  Russell's  Tour  in  Ceylon 
and  India:  V.  Chesterton's  Autobiog- 
raphy :  VI.  Stroud's  Greek  H  un-..my  ot 
the  Four  Gospels:  VIL  The  eirenyiUe 
Correspondence:  VIIL  The  luvkish 
Question. 

J'rospeetU-c  Fiei-icir,  (London,)  for  Ju- 
ly—I Farker's  Sermons  on  Religion: 
II "  Religious  Fiction:  IIL  Sir  >\  illiam 
Hamilton's  Philosophy  :  IV.  Mu.ic  in  its 
Relations  to  Public  Worship:  ^.  Shak- 
speare. 


Classicol  aub  IHiscellancono. 


EUROPEAN. 


LETTERS  ON  KECr.NT  EUROPEAN  LIT- 
ERATURE. 

L  E  T  T  E  K      I. 

Pakis,  May  1,  1353. 
As  my  arrangements  are  not  yet  com- 
plete for  the  i-rompt  receipt  of  foreign 
works,  I  must  eontine  myself,  on  this  oc- 
casion, to  the  French.  And  here,  as 
permanently,  those  alone  will  be  selected 
for  analysis  which  can  commend  them- 
selves bv  some  adiwicemeitt  of  the  previoim 
limits    of  their   teveml   sicbjccto,  or    by    a 


sjKcial  adaptation  to  the  icant,  or  uishes  of 
American  na<lera.  ,    ,       ,, 

The  first  work  to  which  1  call  your  at- 
tention is  a  treatise  on  "  CUmnte,  and  the 
Ivflueuce  exerci.ul  b;,  uooded  and  non-irooded 
soih,"  &C.  {Des  Ciimatt  et  dc  I  lujlxtcnee 
qu'  ejcercent  les  soh  B'^cs  et  non  JhisCs. 
Far  jr.  Beequ-rel,  dr  I'Acudonie  dei  S'-iencea 
ct  de  I'ln^titut  dc  France.  Paris:  Firmin 
F)id<A  Frcrei.  New-York:  Hector  Uo»- 
aange,  134  Pcarl-street.  Quebec:  Buade- 
street.)  This  is  a  book  that  falls  fully 
under  our    second  category  of  selection. 


624 


[October, 


It  treats  of  a  sulject  that  comes  home 
peculiarly  to  the  bu-iuess  and  bosoms 
of  American  citizens,  who  have  to  cul- 
tivate a  forest  coutineut,  and  need  to 
mitigate  a  violent  climate.  The  author's 
plan  is  briefly  indicated  in  the  preface  : 
"  I  ■will  set  before  the  reader's  eyes," 
he  says,  "  historical  documents  the  most 
authentic  as  to  the  state  of  the  primeval 
forests  on  the  surface  of  the  globe,  as 
to  the  changes  they  have  undergone 
from  the  waste  of  war  and  of  civil- 
ization, and  also  what  they  are  at  the 
present  day.  I  will  present  him,  in  the 
next  place,  while  discussing  their  real 
value,  the  observations  that  have  been 
made  at  divers  epochs  cf  the  past,  and  by 
the  aid  of  which  it  has  been  sought  to 
demonstrate  a  change  or  permanence  of 
climate  in  cleared  countries  which  had 
been  formerly  wooded.  lu  the  third 
place,  this  exposition  and  this  discussion 
will  be  preceded  by  an  elementary  treatise 
on  climates,  to  the  end  of  indicating  the 
numerous  causes  which  exert  an  influence 
in  their  constitution,  and  to  show  the 
nature  of  the  changes  wrought  in  them  by 
clearage  and  cultivation." 

Thus  the  scheme  is,  we  sec,  abundantly 
comprehensive ;  while  these  departments 
are,  all  three,  treated  with  great  thorough- 
ness. Por  instance,  the  division  of  ele- 
mentary climatology  commences,  in  this 
function,  with  the  beginning:  "The 
earth  had  an  igneous  origin,  as  witness 
the  flatness  at  the  poles,  the  increase  of 
heat  below  the  surface  of  invariable  tera- 
perature,  the  thermal  springs  and  volcanic 
phenomena.  It  must  have  passed  suc- 
cessively from  the  gaseous  to  the  liquid 
state;  and  its  periphery,  to  a  certain 
depth,  from  the  liquid  state  into  the 
solid.  The  gaseous  matter  not  liquetiable 
composed  about  it  an  aerial  atmosphere. 
Trom  the  solid  crust,  consisting  of  gran- 
ites, porphyries,  seri>eutines,  were  formed 
hy  attrition  the  primitive  soils.  The 
secondary  soils  were  formed  from  sedi- 
mentary deposits.  "S\'hen  the  temperature 
fell  low  enough  to  leave  the  water  liquid 
on  the  earth's  surface,  the  streams  began 
to  rush  along  the  crevices  and  the  declivi- 
ties resulting  from  the  operation  of  the 
earth's  cooling,  wrought  ravines  among 
the  rocks,  and  rolled  the  d-hr!^  at  the 
bottom,  where  were  formed  the  first  de- 
posits of  this  second  order.  These  de- 
posits, at  first  level,  then  inclined  to  the 
horizon  in  consequence  of  new  upheavals 
and  overlapping?,  were  composed  of  bowl- 
ders of  sand,  of  chalky  clay,  with  little 
or  no  limestone,  which  appeared  not,  in 


any  abundance,  until  later.  The  action 
of  the  water  was  so  far  but  meckankaL  It 
operated  also,  however,  phi/niail/y  and  even 
chemicalli/  in  the  compo>ition  of  the  various 
sedimeutal  series."  The  mode  of  o;iera- 
tion  is  followed  regularly  by  the  author, 
until  it  ends  with  the  last  formations  of 
the  inorganic  earth. 

"  But  this,"  he  says,  "  was  not  suth- 
clent  for  the  birth  of  vegetation.  There 
was  still  necessary  the  detritus  also  of 
organic  matter,  or  ammoniacal  or  azotizcd 
principles.  These  indeed  might  have 
been  formed  by  electric  discharges  in  the 
atmosphere.  As  to  the  organic  matter,  it 
could  be  furnished  only  by  orLr-udzed 
bodies.  But  how  then  has  the  vital  jirin- 
ciple  made  its  appearance  upon  the  earth"? 
Science  remains  mute  at  this  question  : 
for  if  all  the  substances  composing  the 
earth  and  the  organized  bodies  upon  its 
surface  should  come  to  fall  back  into 
their  elements,  through  some  great  catas- 
trophe, as  an  excess  of  heat,  and  then  a 
process  of  gradual  cooling  v.ere  to  suc- 
ceed, the  inorganic  compounds  would  be 
all  re-formed  by  the  agency  of  their  atFin- 
ities ;  while  tec  do  n't  stc  how  the  germs  of 
animals  or  plants  could  rcapjK'ar.  ^\  e 
must  needs  then  admit  the  existence  of  a 
creative  power,  which  lias  been  manitesied 
at  certain  epochs  of  the  world's  history, 
and  which  acts  now  in  preserving  the 
present  species,  not  in  forming  new 
ones.  Let  us  describe,  then,  only  what 
takes  place  as  vegetation  overruns  the 
earth  as  soon  as  the  germs  arc  trai;s- 
ported  thither  by  an  unknown  cause." 
r.  15.  Yet  this  unknown  cause,  of  which 
haughty  science  is  thus  compelled  to  con- 
fess its"ignorance,  is  made  familiar  to  our 
plainest  readers  by  the  light  of  rtligion. 

The  author  sketches  next  the  rise  of 
the  successive  series  of  vegetation ;  from 
which  he  passes  to  the  various  soils,  and 
thence  in  turn  to  the  climates.  Ha\ing 
laid  down  this  grand  speculative  or  scien- 
tific basis,  he  then  proceeds  to  the  attes- 
tations both  of  history  and  statistics. 
And  ill  this  consists  the  special  value  of 
the  work.  In  the  theoretic  portion  I  find 
nothing  quite  original ;  but  for  utility, 
abundance,  and  the  latest  scientific  ac- 
curacv,  I  believe  its  mass  ol /acts  without 
a  riva'l  on  the  subject.  In  fact,  the  writer 
is  here  esteemed  the  first  authority  in 
that  department.  The  work  (which  is  in 
ore  volume)  is  enhanced  further  by  two 
fine  maps ;  the  one  indicative  of  the 
oceanic  currents  over  the  whole  globe,  the 
other  descriptive  of  the  meteorology  of 
France. 


1853.] 


Classical  and  Miscellaneous. 


625 


I  am  next  to  introduce  to  you  a  little 
volume  upon  Authropology.  {IJc  VHom- 
me  et  da  llaccs  huniaiiicg,  J'ar  Henry 
HolUird,  Doctcur  en  Medicine  et  Docieur 
es  Sciences,  Profesfcur  d'Hintoire  XattireUe 
a  VAcadcmie  de  Xcuchatel.  Paris:  Lahc, 
Librairc  do  la  Fuadtc  de  Medicine,  Hector 
Jioasangc,  Xew-York,  131  Pearl-street.)  I 
do  so  the  more  froelv,  that  the  fervid  author 
is  a  vehement  advocate  for  both  the  unity 
and  the  divinity  assigned  our  species  by  tlie 
Holy  Scriptures.  But  he  has  also  another 
merit  more  original  than  this.  He  tliinks 
"the  natural  history  of  man  requires  a 
previous  appreciation  of  the  system  of 
entire  nature  of  ^■■hich  he  forms  an  in- 
tegral part."  This  preliminary  requisite 
ho  furnishes  accordingly  in  a  very  able 
and  intelligent  introduction.  But  is  the 
notion  quite  consistent  with  his  invectives 
against  •' Pantheism, '"^  of  vhich  this  ag- 
gregate embodiment  of  man  with  nature 
is  the  vulgar  principle  ?  But  not  to  judge 
from  a  mere  expression,  take  the  follow- 
ing statement  from  the  introduction.  He 
is  speaking  of  the  universal  progression  of 
nature : — 

"  This  progression,  which  commences  at 
the  same  point  in  all  organisms,  which 
proceeds  through  analogous  phases  in 
those  of  the  same  kingdom  or  the  same 
type,  which,  in  fine,  from  one  being  to 
another,  varies  chiefly  in  its  superior  and 
definitive  term — this  progression,  what 
does  it  show  us?  An  active  cause,  a 
force,  appropriating  to  itself  the  formless 
matter  which  is  supplied  it,  wrapping 
itself  therein,  not  as  if  with  a  fixed  envel- 
op, but  as  with  an  organic  medium  which 
it  elaborates  and  renews  by  an  intimate 
and  continuous  movemeut  of  modification, 
manifesting  it  above  all  as  an  organizing 
force,  then  as  a  sensible  being,  in  fine,  as 
an  intelligent  soul,  until  it  rises,  conscious 
of  itself,  from  the  perception  of  jiarticular 
phenomena  to  the  conception  of  universal 
ideas.  Thus  is  constituted  that  individu- 
alit)',  real,  concrete,  and  living,  called  man. 
It  is  thus  at  first,  and  in  the  harmonic 
wholeness  of  his  attributes,  that  we  will 
study  him,  successively  placing  him  in 
juxtaposition  with  other  creatures  and 
with  his  fellows."     Pp.  4,  5. 

At  the  same  time  that  this  passage 
serves  to  indicate  the  author's  jilan,  it 
goes  to  show,  1  think,  that  he  is  treading 
on  the  utmost  verge  of  materialism. 
The  only  doubt  tliat  can  be  entertained 
of  his  thus  falling  flatly  into  inconsist- 
ency, could  turn  merely  on  some  mystic 
meaning  of  liis  organizing  or  active 
"force."     Upon   this,   we   see,  he  is  not 


explicit  above.  But  some  pages  after, 
there  occurs  a  passage  which  unveils  a 
little  this  occult  cause,  though  the  ex- 
planation was  incidental,  and  no  doubt 
unconscious.  He  is  treating  still  of  the 
progressive  scries  of  being  throughout  the 
universe : — 

"  What  is  indicated  to  us  by  this  strict, 
constant,  and  universal  dependence  among 
all  the  phenomena  of  the  physical  world'.' 
That  they  are  all  resulvable  into  one 
general  fact,  and  that  they  proceed  from 
one  and  the  same  cause ;  in  a  word,  that 
one  common  force  is  dilVused  throughout 
entire  nature,  and  sets  all  its  operations 
at  work.  Such  is  also  the  implied  con- 
clusion of  modern  physicists  vihen,  in 
their  most  accredited  theory,  instead  of 
imponderable  fluids,  which  pluralized  the 
sources  of  physical  phenomena,  they  sub- 
stitute the  ductriiio  which  explains  .all 
those  phenomena  by  the  diversilied  vibra- 
tions of  an  etherial  fluid  diifuscd  through- 
out all  space  and  penetrating  all  bodies." 

P.  m. 

Here,  then,  are  all  phenomena  resolved 
into  "  vibration,"  motiox. 

At  the  same  time  I  must  say,  the  au- 
thor protests  exjiressly,  over  and  over, 
that  the  human  intellect  or  soul  is  nui 
fjcneris.  But  here  precisely  is  the  contra- 
diction whereby  his  treatise  is  best  de- 
scribed. The  book  in  truth  is  an 
amalgam,  so  to  say,  of  Pritchard  with 
Lamarck.  The  autlior,  as  a  ^physiologist, 
could  not  deny  the  law  of  development, 
but  thought  of  reconcilirig  it  with  the 
antagonistic  theory.  The  result  is,  how- 
ever, none  the  worse  for  this  common 
oversight,  as  it  presents  a  clever  survey 
of  both  the  systems  in  convenient  con- 
trast. 

This  theory  of  Development  is  quite 
the  order  of  the  age.  It  is  the  subject, 
more  directly,  of  still  another  publication, 
which  bears  the  title  of  "  Pr',/rs.iion  of 
Faith  of  the  Xinctecnth  Ceutunj."  (Pro- 
f-snion  dc  Foi  du  J)ix  Xciti-icme  Siccle. 
Pir  Eiigrne  Pellitan.  ittns:  P.ujuerre. 
Hector  Boxmihjc,  New-York,  134  'Pearl- 
street.)  The  author  is  one  of  the  editors 
of  the  democratic  Sicrh,  perliaps  the 
ablest  and  most  atticiilly-written  j..urnal 
of  Paris  :  for  radicalism  is  not  inseparable 
from  vulgarity  and  crudity,  as  you  might 
naturally  think  from  some  of  its  organs 
in  America. 

And  as  the  journal,  so  the  book  in 
point  of  elegance  of  style.  But,  <t» 
revanche,  the  composition  savours  also  of 
the  journalist.  It  is  the  product  of  a 
general   knowledge  of  the  odds  and  ends 


626 


Intelligence. 


[October, 


of  all  things  thrown  together,  as  alone 
materials  rtciiuired  in  this  -way  can  ever 
be.  To  hi<lL'  this  looseiiC'-s,  like  Carlyle 
anil  EmcTsou,  the  author  wraps  it  in  a 
mist  of  sentiment,  and  casts,  moreover,  the 
exposition  in  a  sort  of  melo-dramatic 
form.  A  recluse  student,  -whom  he  eu- 
crttrntered  in  an  old  hotel  of  Paris,  is 
made  the  oracle  of  the  new  faith. 
This  personage  (a  fresh  ediiiou  of  the 
Vicaire  S'jio!/'irik)  is  made  to  narrate 
Low  he  passed  from  religion  to  scepti- 
cism and  thcnoe  to  science  ;  and  having 
sketched  this  merely  personal  and  mental 
evolution,  he  launches  back  into  prime- 
val chaos,  and  traces  upward  the  law  of 
progressiun,  until  he  reaches  the  tinal 
term  of  creation  in  the  human  intellect. 
"  Life,"  says  he,  "  was  in  the  marrow  of 
this  the  latest  genesis  but  a  vast  metemp- 
sychosis, perso\ering,  from  form  to  form, 
from  energy  to  energy,  from  aggregatiou 
to  vegetation,  from  vegetation  to  sensi- 
bility, from  sensibility  to  instinct,  from 
instinct  to  intelligence — a  final  type 
which  it  had  not  "hitherto  attained  :  it 
was  but  a  restless  ascension  toward  a 
supreme  incarnation  ;  an  inlhiite  subordi- 
nation of  ditierent  functions  exerted  by  a 
diversity  of  creatures,  and  destined  to  end 
in  a  superior  being  and  a  superior  func- 
tion of  sovereignty."  P.  4;j. 

This  e.xtract  also  shows  the  tone  and 
tenor  of  the  writer  to  be  Carlyleish,  as 
I  described  it — tliat  is,  rhapsodical.  It  is 
but  just,  however,  to  remark,  that  the 
comparison  is  merely  relative  :  M.  Pelle- 
tan,  in  point  of  science,  is  the  same  to 
Carlyle  or  to  Emerson  as  Paris  is  to  Lon- 
don or  to  Boston.  His  conception  of  the 
law  of  progress  has  at  least  a  head  and 
tail  to  it,  and  these  are  linked,  however 
loosely,  by  an  intermediate  series. 
"Whereas  his  Anglo-Saxon  analogues,  so 
far  as  I  have  seen  their  lucubrations,  give 
thtir  effusions  neither  head  nor  tail,  nor 
above  all,  b'^di/,  nor  even  bones. 

The  Itciul,  however,  of  the  present 
essay  is  very  evidently  monstrous.  In 
the  tirst  place,  individual  man  is  made  the 
supreme  term  of  tlie  cosniical  scries, 
while  the  development  is  also  stated  to 
have  pa-ssed  beyond  hini  in  its  upward 
course.  And  then,  again,  these  higher 
stages  the  incongruous  writer  points  out 
expressly  in  the  divers  mechanical  and 
other  constructions  of  the  civilized  intel- 
lect. It  mu^t  follow,  then,  that  a  machine 
would  be  a  higher  creation  than  a  man  I 
From  this  vision  of  society  in  its  future 
and  its  fair  side,  pass  we  now  to  sonie 
publications   on    its   actualities   and    its 


realities.     One  of  those  entitled,  "On  tht 
Cnmes  of  Social  Misery,  both  Moral  un  I  F^ty- 
ical,  and  the    ^f'lans   of  pro'i'Jimj  thriiK  a 
Jiemedi/,"  [Etudes    sur    la    Causo    t/-;    la 
Miiere   tant  Moral  que  Phyniquc  et  rur  let 
Moycns    d'lf  2^orter    llcmrdf.     Jhr   A.    I'. 
Cherbiiliez,  Doctcvr  en  Ihvit,  rrof>K«ciir  di 
Science's  }<i(itiques  d   I' Academic  de  tAn^f, 
dc     Paris  :  Guillomin  et  Vie.    H^et.jr  !)■■»- 
gauge,  New-York,)  is  a  little  work  of  great 
sagacity,  suggestivencss,   and  good  sense. 
It  is  quite  worthy  of  both  the  calling  and 
the  conntr}-  of  the  writer — of  that  Lieneva 
which  is  the  Scotland  of  the  continent. 
It  has,  moreover,  that  first  condition  of 
everv  serious    publication — a   systematic 
coordination  of  its  materials.    The  general 
order  of  the  writer's  ideas  may  l-c  brietiy 
analyzed    as    follows: — "Man    h.is    two 
tendencies,     instinctive,      indestructible, 
which   take,    in    the    state    of    society, 
the    names    of    Liberty,    and    Equality. 
The    social    order   compresses   these  ten- 
dencies by  industrial  labour  and  unequal 
ranks,  which  are  two  consequences  of  (he 
institution  of  property.     It  therefore  ne- 
cessitates   a    coercive  power,  wliich    em- 
ploys the  force  of   all,  to   guarantee  the 
rights   assiirned  to  each.     But  this  must 
be  impossible,  save  in  so  far  as  the  minds 
of  all,  or  at  least  of  the  majority,  concur 
with  that  guarantee;  in  other  word*,  so 
far   as   the  masses  recognise  as  a  moml 
authority    that    which    constitutes    the 
order  of' the  State.     Now  history  tells  us 
that  this  moral  authority,  throughout  its 
ages  of   greatest  power,  appeared  in  the 
form  of  certain  organic  groups,  such  as 
those   of  family,  of   landed  property,^  of 
confraternities,  of  corporations,  Ac.     The  ■ 
French    imd    similar    revolutions    having 
broken    up    these    combinations,  the  re- 
sulting  individualism  spread  the  plague 
of  physical  and  moral  misery.     The  rem- 
edy is  to  reconstitute  them  on  the  same 
principle,  but  on  a  Larger  basis— to  con- 
struct   a    new    synthesis    for    the    j-^ipu- 
lar  mind.     This  cannot  be  done  by  law, 
which    is    a    vague    abstraction    of    the 
general  will  ;  whereas,  to  act  uiKjn  men 
titondlv,    the    agent    must    be    real    and 
concre'te.       This    direct    and    individual 
agency  the  author  denominates  jHitronaye, 
ond  d'eems   preventive  of  all  the  misery 
that  is  not  naturally  necessary.    Its  means 
of  action  would  be'  ch;\rity,  education,  in- 
fluence." 

Of  the  power  or  the  possibility  of  such 
a  system  I  shall  say  nothing,  save  that,  if 
ever  realized,  it  will  not  be  by  eipresi 
purpose.  As  presented  by  this  writer,  it 
is   evidently  a  return  to  the  clanship  or 


1853.] 


Classical  and  Miscellaneous. 


627 


the  clientage  of  primitive  times.  Not, 
however,  that  this  is  really  an  olijectiou 
to  its  oc-ourreuce  ;•  it  is  rntlier  the  con- 
trary, but  with  the  diffusiou  of  a  new 
principle. 

No,  that  is  not  the  remedy,  says  an- 
other physician  of  the  body  social,  and 
who  finds  the  spetitic  for  "  pauperism  " 
in  Economy: — L' L'ronomi'-  ou  JU»ii:de  dti 
J'itiip'-rism.  Pur  M.  L.  ^fezieren.  Paris  : 
Kenouard  ti  Cie.  Nfcw-l\.rk  :  Hector  Bos- 
saiiye.  The  composition  of  this  book  is  also 
ditierent  from  the  iireceding.  It  savours 
of  the  pamphlet  or  the  newspaper.  En- 
tirely ■*\ithout  system,  it  has  no  doubt  a 
large  collection  of  wise  saws  and  modern 
instances  about  economy.  But  to  make  it 
meritorious  or  even  excusable  to  repro- 
duce them,  they  should  be  fused  into 
some  fresher  forms,  or  founded  ou  some 
deeper  principle.  1  therefore  notice  the 
Look  at  all  only  from  a  proper  deference 
to  the  French  Academy,  which  has,  the 
cover  tells  us,  •'  crowned "  it  with  its 
prize  or  praise.  I  dare  conjecture  that 
this  decision  has,  in  some  degree,  de- 
pended on  the  virulent  cons'.rvatiitiii  of  the 
writer,  and  the  constant  fire  which,  as 
himself  a  property-holder,  he  keeps  up 
against  the  hated  Socialists.  To  me, 
however,  this  deprives  the  book  of  dignity 
as  well  as  system. 

At  all  events  the  jmblication  might  be 
mentioned,  as  an  additional  sign  of  the 
attention  engrossed  at  present  hy  this  all- 
important  question,  throughout  the  coun- 
tries of  civilized  Europe,  and  foremost  of 
them  in  France. 

But  here  is  still  another  portly  volume 
ou  the  subject,  and  also  "  crowned,"  it 
should  be  added,  by  the  s.irae  Academy  : — 
Etudes  Hintoriquet  sur  L'lnflucnce  de  la 
Charite  durant  lei  premiers  nitcles  C/ire^ 
tifiia,  ct  coiigidcrations  ntr  Bon  rule  dann  hi 
socictcs  moderncs.  I'ar  E.  Ck'intcl.  Oiaroge 
eouronne  en  ISO  J,  jtnr  I' Academic  Eran- 
faiee.  Paris  :  CajKlle.  New-York  :  Hec- 
tor liosf'inffe. 

The  compliment  in  this  case  is  undoubt- 
edly well  merited.  It  would  be  hard,  I 
think,  to  name  a  work  upon  the  social 
intluences  of  Christianity  so  free,  ou 
the  one  hand,  from  catit  or  rant,  and  on 
the  other  from  rationalism.  The  author, 
■without  being,  or  perhaps  meaning  to  be, 
profound,  is,  from  his  line  historic  spirit, 
quite  a  classic  in  composition  :  and, 
for  the  subject,  its  rich  variety  may  be 
imagined  from  the  mere  theme,  which, 
as  proposed  for  competition  by  the 
French  Academy,  runs  thus:  "  ^Vhat  in- 
fluence   did   charity   exercise    upon    the 


Roman  empire'?  What  institutions  did 
it  found  tiiere  *  AVith  what  new  spirit 
did  it  interpenetrate  it  ?  AVhat  rcnie- 
diis  did  it  apply  to  alleviate  its  evils  :"' 

This  group  of  questions,  it  is  manifest, 
involve  the  fairest  eulo;,'y  that  has  ever 
been  written  on  the  Christian  religion. 
And  such,  in  my  opinion,  is  the  simple 
statement  of  historic  facta  in  this  itarncd 
essay:  "To  collect  from  the  ori,'inal 
documents  of  the  early  ages  of  Christian- 
ity all  the  facts  of  any  import  which  re- 
gard the  intluences  of  cluirity — to  rise  to 
the  general  spirit  that"  presided  over  their 
occurrence — to  render  an  exact  account 
of  their etlects  upon  the  Uoman  world" — 
such  is  the  essential  object  of  the  author 
in  his  own  words.  None  of  mine  need 
now  be  added  to  conimend  the  result  to 
your  readers.  To  clergymen  especially 
the  work  must  seem  invaluable.  To  stu- 
dents of  history,  also,  it  sheds  a  needed 
and  steady  light  upon  an  aspect  of  the 
lloman  empire  not  set  suUici>:ntly  l^eiure 
in  view.  In  line,  for  the  philosopher,  it 
teems  with  matter  for  rctiei. tioii.  lu  the 
mass  of  misery  which  it  exhibits  as  over- 
whelming the  Koman  peoide,  and  which 
in  our  day  is  perhaps  utterly  beyond  the 
compass  of  imagination,  the  profane  rea- 
soner  must  recognise,  that  if  the  (..'laistian 
system  had  not  been  revealed,  the  recu- 
perative force  of  nature  must  have  in- 
vented its  boundless  charities — c.r  e];,e 
society  (a  thing  impossible;  must  have 
perished. 

Now  to  works  that  view  society,  not  on 
its  side  of  misery,  but  that  of  money — a, 
thing  which  most  believe  its  best  cure, 
and  which  some  hold  to  be  its  worst  cause. 
A  treatise,  in  two  volumes,  has  just  ai>- 
peared  upon  this  subject,  entitled,  ".Uoncy, 
Credit,  and  Ta.rution,"  (Dc  la  Munnuie,  da 
Credit  ct  de  V I  input.  IKir  Uustiue  dii  I'liy- 
nodc.  Paris :  GuHlomin  it  Cie.  New- 
York :  Hector  Bos  lint 'jc.)  The  ambitious 
scope  of  the  author's  project  will  be  per- 
haps conceived  from  the  following  stric- 
tures ou  the  most  celebrated  of  his  prede- 
cessors, ireuoh  and  English  : — "  Money, 
credit,  anil  taxation  are  the  subjects  I 
propose  to  treat  of,  and  they  are  also 
the  least  known  .subjects  of  political 
economy,  especially  in  France.  For  some 
years  hack,  it  is  true,  tliere  have  been 
publications,  some  quite  remarkable, 
which  have  enlightened  us  upon  the 
function  of  moneys  and  the  services  of 
banks ;  but  in  regard  to  public  credit, 
and  [/articularly  taxation,  \\q  French  are 
still  immersed  in  complete  igjiurance. 
The    Flnjjlish    economists,  loo,  who  have 


628 


Intelligence. 


[October, 


gone  the  deepest  into  these  matters,  are 
far  themselves  from  having  treated  them 
■with  entire  satisfaction.  Smith,  Ricardo, 
Malthus,  I'arnell,  Buchanan,  M'CuUoch, 
Mill,  have  made  them  the  subject  of 
special  works  which  evince  great  knowl- 
edge, and  often  genius.  But  to  what 
system  have  they  attached  themselves, 
-from  what  principle  have  they  set  out,  to 
what  end  do  they  direct  their  labours  ? 
They  are  utterly  deititute  of  any  aggre- 
gate plan ;  and  if  wo  tind  in  their  works 
researches  often  ingenious  and  profound 
iu  the  point  of  view  of  present  and  prac- 
tical interest,  never,  or  almost  never,  do 
they  seem  to  take  their  views  from  either 
theory  or  equity  and  right  regarded  in 
their  pure  essence."  Pref.,  pp.  5,  6. 

This  criticism  on  the  English  is  no 
doubt  just  and  characteristic ;  but  the 
alleged  ignorance  of  the  French  writers 
appears  to  he  at  least  exaggerated.  \t 
all  events  the  hardy  critic  incurs  a  large 
responsibility.  How  fully  he  has  re- 
deemed it  I  cannot  undertake  to  say  with 
confidence,  having  gone  as  yet  hut  cur- 
sorily through  the  wilderness  of  his 
materials.  "Slj  impression  is,  however, 
that  the  chief  distinction  of  the  work  lies 
in  being  a  repertory  of  the  most  correct 
and  coruplete  knowledge  on  the  various 
questions  connected  with  monetary,  mer- 
cantile, and  fiscal  institutions,  it  adds, 
moreover,  to  the  actual  state  of  such  in- 
stitutions the  world  over,  a  succinct 
sketch  of  their  historic  origin  and  sub- 
sequent vicissitudes.  Jn  fiue,  the  author's 
reliability  in  point  of  science  would  seem 
to  me  presumable  from  the  following 
sentence  alone :  "  The  two  ideas,"  says 
he,  "  which  form  the  basis  and  the  object 
of  this  book  are  freedom  of  credit  and  di- 
rect taxation."  Pref.,  p.  8. 

I  find  also  lyiug  before  me,  of  the  same 
genus,  an  Esuai/  o;i  the  Ultimate  Conse- 
quences of  the  Gold  of  California  and  Aus- 
tralia. The  author  is  M.  de  Zegoborski, 
a  Counsellor  of  State  of  his  Russian  Maj- 
esty. The  book  betrays  its  country, 
though  presented  iu  the  French  lan- 
guage— being  indeed  industrious,  but 
rather  heavy  and  common-place. 

The  book  I  next  present  supplies  a 
gradual  relaxation  from  the  technicalities 
of  money-making,  by  a  touch  of  its  ro- 
mance :-—Jacifics  Canir  et  Charles  'V  II.,  ou 
la  France  an  XV.  siicle.  Etude  hiitorique, 
dx.  Par  J/.  Pierre  Clement,  antetir  de  I'Jli*- 
toirc  de  la  vie  et  de  radministration  c/<'  Col- 
lert.  Paris:  Guillomin  ct  Cic.  Xew- 
York  :  Jleetur  Bosmmje.  The  hero,  Jacques 
Cceur,    was    a    sort    of    Yankee    of  the 


fifteenth  century,  who  made  and  lost 
repeated  fortunes  with  a  facility  that 
then  seemed  magical,  and  the  vicis- 
situdes of  whose  wild  life  were  no  less 
prodigious  than  his  possessions.  Born  in 
the  country  town  of  Buurges,  of  humble 
parents,  he  rose,  by  his  own  exertions, 
and  at  an  early  age  of  life,  to  be  real 
controller  and  principal  master  of  the 
entire  commerce  of  the  French  kingdom, 
and  to  be  patron,  then  banker,  and  at 
last  minister,  of  the  I'rench  king.  But 
the  wealth  that  caused  his  rapid  ribC, 
brought  upon  him  often  a  ruin  as  rajiiil — 
not  merely  confiscating  his  possessions, 
but  also  menacing  his  life.  Again,  how- 
ever, he  cscajies,  and  emerges  soon  to  his 
former  atHuence,  through  struggles  that 
would  pass  for  fiction  much  more  easily 
than  for  reality,  if  due  attention  were  not 
bestowed  upon  the  genius  of  the  times. 

It  is  this  genius  of  the  age,  in  fact,  that 
gives  its  highest  interest  to  the  book — 
ail  age  the  most  prolific  of  wild  adven- 
tures all  over  Europe,  and  the  most  glo- 
rious for  solid  achievements  in  France. 
The  king,  of  whom  our  htro  had  been 
such  a  mainstay,  was  Charles  VII.,  wlif>, 
after  thirty  years  of  warfare,  expelled 
the  English  from  the  continent,  and  also 
founded  the  institution  of  standing  ar- 
mies. In  these  transactions  the  b"unJ- 
less  wealth  and  patriotic  liberality  of 
J acques  Ca-ur  bore  a  quite  essential  p.irt; 
and  so  he  is  made,  by  no  forced  construc- 
tion, to  serve  the  purpose  of  a  central 
figure,  about  which  to  group  the  Frendi 
history  of  the  epoch.  And  in  his  history, 
amid  a  multitude  of  personages  the  most 
singular,  we  also  find  a  full-length  portrait 
of  the  immortal  Joan  of  Arc.  The  work 
besides  has  an  introduction  ou  the  mon- 
eys of  the  Middle  Ages,  with  some  en- 
gravings appertaining  .to  the  same,  the 
two  finely-printed  volumes  blend  utility 
and  curiosity,  to  an  extent  and  in  a  man- 
ner quite  original. 

■\Vc  are  come  at  length  to  a  work  on 
literature,  pure  literature  : — Talhau  de  la 
Literature  du  ^ord  an  :>fo^en  A'je,  nt  Alle- 
magne  et  en  Anrjktcrre,  <i»  S-andiaarie  d 
e,i  Slaionie.  Par  F.  G.  Eichojr,  Pnfrt- 
sfur  dc  la  Faeulte  dcs  Lrttrea  de  L;/on. 
Paris:  JHdicr,  Lihraire-Editmr.  New- 
York:  Hector  Boosange.  It  is  that  of 
a  period  and  a  region  of  peculiar  interest 
in  America,  the  literature  of  the  four 
countries  from  which  its  miscellincous 
people  derive  almost  exclusively  their 
origin  and  inspiration,  and  this  literature 
at  an  epoch  which  makes  it  most  longed 
for,  because  least  known. 


X 


1853.] 


Classical  and  Miscellaneous. 


629 


The  scheme  of  Professor  Eichoff  is  out- 
lined in  the  following:  terms.  After 
sketching  the  transformations  of  the  an- 
cient world  to  the  date  in  question,  and 
noting  the  leading  features  of  these 
times,  he  confines  himself  to  the  devel- 
opment of  but  one  point  in  the  vast  per- 
spective :  "  ^ly  sole  aim  has  been  to 
bring  together  whatever  relates  to  the 
manners,  idioms,  and  primitive  creeds  of 
that  robust  Germanic  race,  cf  which  the 
influence  has  transformed  Europe,  and 
given  birth,  bj  a  happy  contrast,  from  tlie 
fifth  to  the  tifteenth  century,  to  fruits  so 
various  and  so  invaluable.  Classical  by 
taste  as  well  as  profound  conviction,  a 
warni  admirer  of  Homer  and  of  Virgil, 
full  of  resjiect  for  the  noble  models  which 
have  been  bequeathed  us  by  antiquity,  I 
shall  not  sacrifice  their  glory,  after  the 
prejudices  of  our  day,  to  the  caprices  of 
uncultivated  genius,  to  the  exciting  but 
barbarous  idols  which  were  incensed  by 
the  northern  nations.  Cut  I  will  also 
say,  and  seek  to  prove,  that  the  ancient 
literature,  like  ancient  society,  exhausted 
by  its  labours  and  its  successes,  had  stood 
iu  need  of  a  violent  crisis  whereby  to 
temper  anew  its  vigour;  that  the  deadly 
strife  between  the  north  and  south,  which 
proved  so  desolating  in  its  first  effects, 
has  in  its  fiual  results  been  both  salutary 
and  prolific,  and  that  it  is  the  union  of 
these  two  contraries,  combined  and  crossed 
in  a  thousand  forms,  as  they  rolled  along 
the  revolution  of  ages,  that  has  given 
origin,  in  Italy,  in  Spain,  in  Germany 
and  England,  but  above  all  in  France,  the 
intellectual  centre  of  Europe,  to  those 
lights  of  the  new  civilization  which  are 
now  irradiating  theentire  globe."  Pp.  9, 10. 
Such  is  the  pregnant  theory  and  ample 
project  of  the  author.  I  have  not  space 
of  course  to  speak  of  the  execution  of 
such  a  work.  As  some  guarantee,  how- 
ever, I  may  mention  that  his  pen  had 
been  already  practised  upon  kindred 
subjects,  both  histtprical  and  philological. 

The  name  of  John  BoJin,  and  his  im- 
mortal writinjs,  require  no  "  bush.''  /.  Bo- 
din  ct  son  ftmpn—TMeaxi  dea  theorks 
politlqwn  etden  idc':^  economi'pics  ait  sclzicme 
tiecle.  Rtr  Hrnrii  Baudrillart,  Pi-ofesseur 
ati  Colleijc  de  France.  Paris  :  Gui/lomin  et 
Cie.  New-York:  H'-ctor  liunsanrje.  And 
yet  it  is  remarkable  that  the  present  editor 
has  deemed  it  rei|uisitc  to  bring  to  the 
supj.ort  of  both  a  historic  survey  of  the 
"  times."  This  indeed  is  getting  common 
•with  the  French  writers  of  the  day.  A  bare 
biographv  is  deemed  no  longer  a  thing  to 
occupy  a  serious  writer,  however  celebra- 


ted or  significant  the  personage.  There 
is,  moreover,  a  dawning  sentiment,  if  not 
as  yet  a  distinct  conception,  that  even 
such  personages  are  a  /ingment  of  both 
their  country  and  their  age,  and  that  the 
latter  mujt  be  therefore  studied  iu  con- 
junction with  the  former.  This  correla- 
tion is  the  mother-principle  of  the  new 
order  of  historical  writing,  which  at  last 
is  touching  on  its  fundamental  installa- 
tion. It  had  been  seized,  indeed,  some 
three  centuries  since  by  the  great  subject 
of  these  remarks,  who  was  the  first  to 
consider  in  politics  the  inlluenee  of  c/i- 
matc  and  of  race.  Eut  he  saw  it  only  iu 
the  large  aggregates  called  nations ;  and 
even  in  these  he  saw  it  so  imperfectly  as 
to  attempt,  iu  contradiction,  to  deter- 
mine, like  his  predecessors,  a  certain 
absolute  republic,  which  should  be  the 
"  best  "  for  all  ages,  all  races,  all  coun- 
tries. It  was  accordingly,  by  mere  cor- 
rection of  this  logical  incousistency,  that 
his  great  countryman  and  pupil  has  also 
made  an  epoch.  For  Montesquieu  applied 
the  climatory  principle  to  constitutions — 
that  is  to  say,  instead  of  absolutely, 
viewed  them  relaticely.  This,  however,  is 
his  main  title  to  the  strangely  prt-sump- 
tuous  mijtto  of  prolem  eine  nmtre  cnatam. 
But  the  slow  progression  has  been  labour- 
ing downward  from  Montesquieu  lo  the 
present  day,  when  we  see  this  notion  of 
rdatiiitj  extending  to  epochs,  to  individ- 
uals. 

But  to  return  to  the  book  before  me  ;  its 
general  character  is  brietly  this.  It  com- 
mences with  an  able  survey  of  the  vari- 
ous theories  or  systems,  political  and  eco- 
nomical, of  the'  sixteenth  century,  as 
properly  preparatory  to  appreciation  of 
Bodin's'  writings.  A  second  p.irt  relates 
his  life,  describes  the  character  of  all  his 
works,  and  translates,  for  the  nr?t  time,  I 
think,  his  essay  on  "  Historical  Method." 
The  third  part  gives  an  analysis  and 
commentary  on  the  treatise  /V  li-jmhli'-a. 

Here  is  'another  work,  of  which  the 
author  and  the  subject  are  both  still  surer 
of  winning  American  attention  :  I  laean 
the  UUtortf  of  the  People,  by  Au?ustin 
Thierry  :  '{Exiai  enr  VJlistoire  de  la  For- 
viation  et  des  P,-o.jre»  dn  Tiers-ctat.  Par 
Au>ju,tU\  Thierry.  Paris:  /'.ini  et  Cie. 
New-York :  //-  c-ror  U'lsnangr.  Without 
a  rival  in  the  two  essentials  of  arrange- 
ment and  expression,  the  illustrious 
painter  of  the  Anglo-Norman  Conquest 
would  attract  your  public  upon  any 
theme.  But  when  he  traces  the  most 
continuous  and  complete  scries  of  evolu- 
tions,  from   extreme    serfdom  up  to  ex- 


630 


Intelligence. 


[October, 


tremo  freedom,  ■nhicli  tlie  jjopiilar  classes 
have  as  ret  achieved,  no  doubt  the  result 
must  be  more  than  interesting  to  the 
only  nation  upon  the  earth  which  lias 
been  founded  through  the  like  triumphs, 
and  consists  exclusively  of  the  same 
clashes. 

M.  Thierry  gives  ft  much  larger  than 
the  usual  amplitude  to  the  Tlcrf<-ftrtt.  He 
extends  the  name  to  the  entire  nation, 
less  the  clergy  and  the  noliility,  and  thus 
of  course  embraces  what  we  call  in  Eng- 
lish the  middle  class.  In  this  way  he  is 
enabled  to  claim  the  glory  for  the  2'fople 
of  producing  almost  all  the  greatest  in- 
tellects of  French  history.  For  example, 
in  the  S'>called  Augustan  age  of  Louis 
XIV.,  there  were  but  three  in  the  entire 
galaxy  of  noble  origin,  namely,  Fcnelon, 
Larochefrtucauld,  and  Madame  de  Se- 
vigue.  The  rest  were  all  plebeians,  to 
-wit:  t'orneille,  Pascal,  iloliere,  Racine, 
La  Fontaine,  Boileau,  Bossuet,  Bourdaloue, 
Flechior,  Massillonr  La  liruyere,  Arnaud, 
?\ieole,  I>omat.  In  short,  this  volume  is 
the  strongest  vindication  of,  and  noblest 
tribute  that  has  hitlierto  been  paid  to,  the 
02)pressed  portion  of  humanity. 

I  give  the  last  position  to  a  religious 
publication: — Saint  J'niil  ct  Siucqne,  Ji«- 
ch(ri-h^i  »i<r  leg  riipport>i  du  Philosoplie  actc 
VApolrf,  ct  sur  Vlnji/l ration  du  (hrietian- 
inm  ii'iiiitiaiit  a  ti-arcrs  If  Piitjauitm.  Par 
A.  Fi'iiru.  Paris:  Libmirie  Pliilosophi/jnc 
d-'  Lad  rail  jr.  Xew-York  :  Hfctor  Jiohiniiijr. 
Its  object  is  to  prove  the  stoic  Seneca 
not,  only  to  have  been  a  Christian,  but 
moreover  to  have  been  made  a  convert  by 
an  alleged  intercourse  with  St.  Paul.  The 
vork  is  valuable,  as  well  as  curious,  for 
its  immense  hoard  of  learning.  But  the 
argunient  is  as  invalid  as  the  retort  that 
lias  been  made  to  it,  that  Christianity  is  a 
merelv  modilie  J  continuation  of  Stoicism. 
0. 

A  i.Ar.c^E  undertaking  is  commenced  in 
a  work  entitled  '' Gnchitshtc  dis  Heidcn- 
tlnniig,  in  lUzitJiiinj  aitj  I{i:Utjion,  H7«- 
»fH,  Kiin^t,  SittlicliLcit  iiiul  Staatshlen, 
von  Dr.  .\.  Wuttkp.,"  (Brcslau,  1853,)  of 
■which  the  first  part,  containing  3JG 
]iages,  8vo.,  lies  before  us.  This  part 
givvs  what  the  author  calls  the  "  tirst 
steps  of  the  history  of  humanity,"  in  a 
survey  of  the  ethico-politiLal  history  of 
the  Huns,  the  iMongols,  the  Mexicans, 
and  liie  I'eruvians.  The  plan  is  a  vast 
and  coinpivhensivc  one. 

The    "  ^f>!'^r>lm  of  do.'tiral  Altt!q„itici>,'" 

(London,    T.   Ilichards,)     for    April    and 
Way,  1853,  contains  a  copious    disserta- 


tion "  On  the  True  Site  of  Calvary,"  with 
a  restored  plan  of  the  ancient  city  of 
Jerusalem.  We  regret  to  see,  from  the 
publisher's  announcement,  that  this  ex- 
cellent journal  is  not  patronized  as  it 
should  bo.  We  call  the  attention  of  the 
scholars  of  our  country  to  the  work,  and 
urge  them  to  sustain  it. 

Mkssf.s.  Harrigue  i  Christern  (4  Astor 
House,  New- York)  have  commenced  the 
issue  of  a  "  J[",il}dt/  Pnl/ctin  of  GTnmn 
Lit<raturr"  in  a  form  very  convenient  for 
use.  It  will  not  be  a  mere  list  of  books 
liublished,  but  a  classified  report  of  new- 
publications,  with  brief  statements  of  their 
contents  and  value,  and  extracts  from  the 
leading  literary  journals,  in  order  to  af- 
ford as  "precise  characteristics  of  new- 
books  as  are  compatible  with  their  recent 
appearance."  Omitting  entirely  the  vast 
amount  of  merely  local  literature  con- 
stantly issuing  from  the  press  in  Ger- 
many, it  will  give  mure  minute  information 
about  all  works  of  interest  to  scholars 
than  can  be  afl'ordcd  by  miscellaneous 
catalogues. 

We  have  received  the  supplementary 
volume  of  Engclmunn's  '' IJiUiothcca 
Scriptonim  Claasiconnii  ft  Graeconnn  tt 
Latinoritm.  (Leijizig.  lb" 3.  8v...,  pp.  l-'O.) 
It  contains  an  alphabetical  list  of  all  edi- 
tions and  translations  of  the  Greek  and 
Latin  Classics  that  have  appeared  in 
Germauv  between  the  years  1S47  and 
ls:»2.  The  former  volume  extended  from 
17(J0  to  1>47;  and  the  two,  takento- 
gether,  form  the  best  manual  of  classical 
bibliography  in  compact  form  now  ex- 
tant. 

Among  the  new  works  in  classical  and 
general  literature,  recently  published  on 
the  continent  of  Europe,  are  the  follow- 
ing : — 

])as  Theseion  und  der  Tempel  des  Ares 
in  Athen.  Eine  arclniologisch-topograph- 
ische  Abhaudlung  von  I.udw.  llos>.  Mit 
einem  Plane  des  Marktes.  Halle,  Is.. 2  : 
Svo.,  pp.  88. 

Alciphronis  Rhetoris  Epistolac.  Re- 
censuit,  cum  Bergkri  iutegris,  Mcinekii, 
Wagneri,  alioriim  si-k-ctis  suisque  annota- 
tionibus  cdidit,  indices  adjecit  E.  E. 
Seller.     Lipsiae,  1^53  :  Svo.,  pp.  500. 

Akadcmische  Vorlesungen  iiber  indis- 
chc  Liuraturgeschkhte."  Gehaltcn  im 
Wintersemester  lf>">l-5-',  von  Dr.  Alb. 
Weber.     Berlin  :  Svo.,  pp.  200. 

Avesta,  die  heiligen  Schriften  der  Par- 
sen.  Aus  dem  Grundto,\teubersttzt,  mit 
steter  Kucksioht  auf  die  'J^aditionen  von 


■"^: 


s 


1853.] 


Classical  and  Miscellaneous. 


631 


Dr.  Friedr.  Spie^'cl,  Prof,  zu  Erlangen. 
1  Bd.  Dor  Vendidad.  Leipzig,  1^.32 : 
8vo.,  pp.  303. 

We  continue  our  summaries  of  tlie  con- 
tents of  the  principal  furei^n  journals  of 
general  literature  : — 

Westminster  Jlevicic,  for  July  : — L  John 
Knox:  II.  Over-Legislation  :  III.  Pedigree 
and  Heraldry :  IV.  Sects  and  S<;cular 
Education  :  V.  Young  Criminals :  VI.  The 
Life  of  Moore:  VII."  India  and  its  Fi- 
nance :  Ylll.  Balzac  and  his  Writinc^s  : 
IX.  The  Turkish  Empire  :  X,  XI,  XII, 
XIII,  Contemporary  Literature  of  England, 
America,  Germany,  and  France. 

Edlnhurrjh  Bevinc,  for  July :— I.  The 
Austrian  Court  in  the  Eighteenth  Cen- 
tury :  II.  The  Nations  of  India  and  their 
Manners :  III.  Lord  Grey's  Colonial  Ad- 
ministration :  IV.  Relations  of  England 
T\ith  China :  V.  Lives  of  the  Devreux 
Earls  of  Essex  :  VI.  Popular  Education  in 
the  United  States :  VII.  Quarantine, 
Small  Pox,  and  Yellow  Fever :  VIII.  Lar- 
pent's  Journal  in  Spain  :  IX.  The  French 
Navy. 

London  Quartcrli/  Eevieic,  for  July  : — 
I.  Annals  of  Ireland — by  the  Four  blas- 
ters: II.  Baron  Haxthauscu's  Notes  on 
Piussia :  III.  Writings  of  Professor  Owen 
— Generalizatious  of  Comparative  Anato- 
my :  IV.  Shepherd  on  Ecclesiastical  For- 
geries :  >  V.  Autobiography  of  Signor 
Ruffini :  VI.  Count  Fiquelmont  on  the 
Palmcrston  Policy:  VII.  The  Oxford 
Commission :  VIII.  ^lemoirs  of  Thomas 
Moore. 

Brithh  Quartcrli/,  (London,)  for  Au- 
gust :—L  French  History  for  1S53.:  H. 
Critical  Editions  of  the  Greek  Testament : 
III.  Electricity  and  3Iagnetism :  IV.  The 
Crusades    as    described    by    Crusaders : 

V.  Hypatia  ;  or.  New  Foes  with  an  Old 
Face  :  VI.  The  Alleged  Successes  of  Ro- 
manism :  VII.  Present  Relations  of  Em- 
ployer and  Employed  :  Mil.  Horace  : 
IX.  Russia  and  Turkey  :  X.  Our  Epilogue 
on  Affairs  and  Books. 

North  Jlritinh  Jt'^vicw,  (Edinburgh.)  for 
August : — I.  Theories  of  Poetry  and  a 
Kew  Poet — Dallas's  Poetics  and  Smith's 
Poems :  II.  Our  Colonial  Empire  and  our 
Colonial  Policv  :  III.  Dr.  Henry  Marshall 
and  Milit.iry  Hygiene:  IV.  The  Text  of 
Scrijitiire:  V.    Free    and    Slave    Labour: 

VI.  The  Early  Christian  Life  and  Litera- 
ture of  Syria:  VII.    The  Grenville  Papers 


and  Junius :  VIII.  Germany  in  its  Relar 
tions  to  France  and  Russia;  IX.  The 
New  India  Bill. 

Jui-Kc  des  Dftix  Jfomks,  ^Paris,\  for 
Jfat/ : — I.  Nuances  de  la  Vie  Mondaine, 
parM.  Octave  Feuillet :  II.  La  Mouarchie 
de  1830,  Derniure  Pavtie,  par  M.  Louis  De 
Carne  :  III.  Un  Jloine  I'hilosophe  du  On- 
zieme  Siecle  (Saiut  Ansclme  de  Cautor- 
hery,  de  M.  Ch.  De  Remusat,!  par  M. 
Emile  Saisset:  IV.  Souvenirs  D  L  ne  Sta- 
tion Dans  les  Mers  de  L'Indoohinc,  par 
M.  E.  Jurieu  de.  la  Graviere  :  V.  Beau- 
marchais,  Sa  Vie,  Ses  Ecrits  el  Son 
Temps,  D'Aprcs  des  Papiers  de  Famille 
Inedits,  par  M.  Louis  Do  Lomciiie  :  \L 
Promenade  en  Ameriquc ;  Phil.idelphie, 
par  M.  J.  J.  Amptie:  VIL  Chroniqiie  de 
la  Quinzaine.  For  June: — I.  L'.Vrt  Fran- 
<;ais  Au  Dix-Septi^me  Siecle,  par  M.  Vic- 
tor Cousin:  IL  Le  Roman  Social  en 
Angleterre:  IIL  La  Telegraphic  Eiec- 
trique,  Scs  Developpcniens  cu  France,  eu 
Ani^lcterre,  en  Amerique  et  sur  Ic  Conti- 
nent Europeen,  par  M.  liabiiiet :  IV.  D-a 
Dramc   Moderne,  par    .M.  Edgar    t^uinet : 

V.  Papiers  D'Etat. — Louis  XI\'.  <t  Guil- 
laume  111.  Leurs  Negociations  >>fcrttcs 
pour  la  Succession  d'Espague,  DWprOs  le 
Kecueil  de  Leurs  Lettres  Public  en  An- 
gleterre,   par    M.  Louis    de   Vitl-Cu-tel : 

VI.  Promenade  eu  Amcrique. — viii.  V.ash- 
ington,  le  Congreset  Ics  Partis  Poati4UC5, 
par  M.J.J.  Ampere:  VII.  I'.eaumarchais, 
Sa  Vie,  Ses  Ecrits  et  Son  Temps,  l.t'Apr^s 
des  Papiers  de  Famille  In.dits,  par  .M. 
Louis  De  Lomenie:  VIII.  Clironiqne  de 
U  Quinzaine,  Histoire  Politique  et  LitU'- 
raire.  For  Jitl^ : — L  Souviiiirs  D'lne 
Station  Dans  Les  Mers  de  L'Indochine, 
par  M.  E.  Jurieu  de  la  tiravit  re  :  II.  La 
Hollande  Sous  Deux  Rrgues.  h^^iuvenirs 
Historiques  Sur  Le  Roi  Louis  et  Guil- 
laume  I.,  par  M.  Vivien:  111.  La  Ik  rn  lore 
P.ohemieune,  Deuxi.'nie  I'artie,  par  Mme. 
Ch.  Revbaud:  IV.  Un  Hiver  eu  C^.rse, 
Recits  lie  Chasse  et  Sc"'nes  do  la  Vie  I>es 
3Iaquis,  par  ^I.  t'kuks  Reyn.iud :  V.  Du 
Mouvement  Pui'tique  eu  An.lttorre  De- 
puis  Shelley,  par  M.  Arthur  Dudley:  VI. 
San  Francisco  A  Ripa,  par  M.  l»e  Stend- 
hal: VII.  Les  Protcstans  Franrais  en 
Ei:rn;,e,  RechcrclKS  NuuvelKs  d-.  M. 
Weiss  Sur  L'llistoire  des  r.Lfii-ies  L'.--pui5 
la  Revocation  de  I/Kdit  dc  Nan-es.  par 
:d.  Ch.  Louandre :  VIII.  ChronLjue  de  la 
QuiiLzaine. 


AMERICAN. 

We  continue  our  summaries  of  the  con-      S.   C.i  for  July: — I.  The  Prinriplcs    of 

tentsof  American  Theological  Journals: —      Moral  and  Political   Economy:  II.  Onho- 

SoMihcm  Preahyterinn  Jifcicw,  (Columbia,       doxy  iu  New-England  :  HI.  The  Necessity 


632 


Intellis^ence. 


[October. 


and  Importance  of  Controversy  :  IV.  The 
Philosophy  of  Life :  V.  The  klation  of 
Justice  to  Btiiovolcuoe  in  the  Comluot  of 
Society:  VI.  The  Secondary  and  CoUater- 
al  Influences  of  the  Sacred  Scriptures : 
VU.  The  Final  Destiny  of  our  Globe. 

Chriitlaa  ItfvUie,  (Xew-York,)  for  July. 
— I.  Christian  Supeniaturalism  :  II. 
Schools  in  the  Turkish  Empire  :  III.  Hope 
for  our  Country :  IV.  The  King  and  the 
Pieacher :  V.  Scripture  Facts  and  Illus- 
trations, collected  during  a  Journey  in 
Palestine,  bv  Professor  Hackett :  VI.  Hii)- 
polytus,  an.rhis  Age  :  VII.  The  Catholics 
and  the  School  Question. 

Xtic-York  Qwirterli),  for  July :— I. 
Cuban  Question :  II.  Johu  llaudolph : 
m.  Music  a  Language  :  IV.  Marie  Stuart : 

V.  Pocent  Pro'jress  of  the  Sciences  of 
Astronomy  and  Physics  :  VI.  The  late 
Sylvester  Judd. 

Jitbliothccrt  S'(crrt,  (.\udover,)  fur  July  : 
— I.  Characteristics,  Duties,  and  Culture  of 
Vroraan  :  II.  Lucian  and  Christianity : 
III.  The  Pvebtion  of  the  Grecian  to  Chris- 
tian Ethics  :  IV.  The  Keligiou  of  Ge.^logy  : 
Y.  On  the  Use  of  the  Preposition  e'lg  iu 
Komans  v,  IS:  VI.  From  Antipatris  to 
FJmmaus  :  VII.  The  Law  of  Remorse  and 
the  Law  of  Papeut-ince  ;  or,  the  Passage 
from  Natural  to  Itevealed  lleligiou  :  VIII. 
The  Certainty  of  Success  in  Preaching: 
IX.  lirfctschniider's  View  of  the  Theology 
of  Schleicrmacher. 

Korth-Amcrican  Rivinc,  (Poston.)  for 
July  :— I.  Recent  Eu-lish  Poetry  :  II.  Po- 
litical Philosophy  {  m.  The  Eclipse  of 
Faith  :  IV.  Sparks's  Correspondence  of  the 
Revolution :  V.  Recent   Social    Theories : 

VI.  France,  England,  and  America:  VII. 
Modern  Saints,  Catholic  and  Heretic : 
VUI.  The  Life  of  St.  Paul :  IX.  Thackeray, 
as  a  Novelist:  X.  The  Writings  of  B.  B. 
Edwards :  XL  S-jhoolcraft  ou  the  Indian 
Tribes. 

Christian  Exnmiwr,  (P.oston,)  for  July  : 
— L  Spiritual  Mechanics:  IL  Religion, 
Civil iz.ation,  and  Social  State  of  the  Jap- 
anese;  III.  Poetry:  IV.  The  Errors  and 
Superstitions  of  the  Church  of  Rome  : 
V.  The  Character  of  Archbishop  Cran- 
mer:  VI  Heresy  in  Audover  Seminary: 
YU.  The  Doctriiic  of  Regeneration  :  VIU. 
Crusades  :  IX.  Professor  Farrar. 

BrowMong  Quarter!  tj.  (I'.oston,)  for 
July:— 1.  The  Spiritual  Order  Supreme: 
n.  Mother  Setou  and  .St.  Josephs  :  IIL 
Philosophical  Studios  on  Christianity  : 
IV.  Wallis's  Spain  :  V.  The  Fathers  of  the 
Desert. 

Frce-]\'ia  Ihpti.vt  Qimrlrrhj,  for  July  :— 
L  Lillical   Criticism  :  11.    'J'hc  Hcrodian 


Family :  III.  Science  and  Revealed  Re- 
ligion: IV.  Lectures — Their  Posiliuu  and 
lutlueuce:  V.  ilinister  and  Puli.il:  VI. 
Names  of  the  Soul :  VII.  Biblical  Theol- 
ogy :  VIII.  Immigration. 

Theological  and  Literary  Journal,  (Ncw- 
York,)  for  July  : — I.  Dr.  G.  P.  Smith  on 
the  Geological  Theory  :  IL  The  Rev.  Al- 
bert Barnes's  Notes  on  Revelation  xx,  1-0  : 
UI.  The  Princeton  Review  ou  Millenari- 
anism  :  IV.  The  Distastefulness  of  Chris- 
tianity :  Y.  English  Universities  :  VI.  Dr. 
Nevins's  Pantheistic  and  Dcvelojnient 
Theories. 

Jlcrcernburr/  Qrarterly  Jleiier;  (Mtrcers- 
burg.  Pa.,)  for  July : — I.  The  Strong 
Character  :  II.  The  Communion  of  Saints  : 
III.  Paracelsus  and  his  Intlucnce  on  Chris- 
tianity and  Medicine  :  IV.  The  Island  of 
-Egina :  V.  Franklin  and  Marshall  Col- 
lege :  \I.  Rationalistic  Poetry  :  VII.  Re- 
tlections  on  the  History  of  Civil  Liberty. 

i'nivcrsali'^t  Quartcr/i/,  (BostOFi,)  for 
July:— I.  Historical  Sketch  of  Interpre- 
tations of  1  Peter  iii,  18-i?0,  and  iv,  G  : 
II.  Character  and  its  Predicates  :  111.  The 
Ministry :  IV.  Agencies  in  Salvation. 

Biblical  licpLrtonj,  (Princeton,)  for 
July  :— I.  Idea  of  the  Church  :  II.  Board- 
man's  Bible  in  the  Counting-House  :  IH. 
Journal  and  Letters  of  Rev.  Hiury  Mar- 
tyu,  B.  D. :  IV.  Theology  in  Germ-any: 
Y.  Proceedings  of  the  last  Geiaral  .\s- 
sembly. 

Southern  Qnnrtcr!;/  Jir:i>ir,  (Charleston.) 
for  July: — I.  State  of  Parties  and  the 
Country :  II.  College  and  University  Edu- 
cation in  .\iuerica  :  III.  Aboriginal  Races 
of  America:  IV.  Secondary  Combats  of 
the  Mexican  War  :  Y.  Trench  on  Prov- 
erbs :  YI.  The  Iroquois  Bourbon  :  VII.  The 
Student— Love  of  Study  :  YIII.  Stowo's 
Key  to  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin. 

yctc-Knylaii'lrr,  (New-Haven,)  for  Au- 
gust :— L  Abbott's  Napoleon  :  II.  Is  the 
Soul  Immortal  ?  :  III.  Redemption  as  Re- 
lated to  the  Fall  of  the  Angels  :  IV.  Re- 
forms iu  Austria,  under  Joseph  U. : 
v.  Life  and  Character  of  Professor  B.  B. 
Edwards:  VL  Corruption  of  the  Lord's 
Supper  into  the  Mass  :  VII.  IV.  Gr.int 
and  the  Mountain  Nestorians  :  Mil.  l.ay- 
ard's  Discoveries. 

Prohifteriaii  Quarterly  Bevieic,  iThilad.,* 
for  September  :— I.  Thoughts  on  Theology  : 

II.  The  '•  Presbyterian  Magazine  ".^nd  the 
"Spirit   of    American   Presbyteriauisiu :" 

III.  Historical  iVvelopment  <>f  the  Doc- 
trine of  the  Atonement :  IV.  Chilling- 
worth :  V.  The  Gener.ll  Assembly:  VL 
Dr.  Skinner's  Translation  of  Yiuet's  Pas- 
toral Theology. 


INDEX 


Abbott,  (Rev.  F-eiijamin,)  early  preach- 

in^of rage      9 

Abeliird,  his  position  Lii  philosophy  34.j-35i 

Aetidn,  motives  of  hnman 13 

AJiini  and  Eve,  paradisiacal  state  of....  260 

.\i:e,  character  nf  the  present 427 

Alford's  Greek  Testament 318 

America,  Chateaubriand's  writings  on.  lOS 

,   iiitluence   of,    on    the    politici^l 

world 43o 

American  Christians,  duties  of 441 

patriots,  duties  of 440 

Amos,  traces  of  Pentateuch  in 70 

Anachronisms,  seeming,  of  the  Penta- 
teuch considered 02 

Analogies  and  analogical  reasoning 220 

of  "the  "  Vestiges  of  Civilization," 

fanciful 224 

.\nnihiIation  of  the  -wicked  after  the 
general  judcTiient,  held  by  Dr. 

M-Culloh....". 276 

.\nselra.  of  Canterbury 47'J,  57G 

,  birth  of 577 

,  educatiou  of 57S 

,  inconsistencv  of 58 1 

,  made  Archbishop oSO 

,  (juarrel  bttiveen,  and  Henry oSj 

,  fjuarrd  between,  and  William  II  581 

,  theology  of 5SS 

Apostles,  the,  emulated  by  early  Meth- 
odist preachers 14 

.\[iOstoIic  succession 5i2 

Architecture,   church,   hi   the  United 

States 2"^ 

Aristotle 312 

,  comprehensiveness  of  his  philos- 
ophy   

,  his  intellect,  philosophy,  and  la- 
bours in  behalf  of  logic 

,  his  writing.s  imbued  with  a  re- 
ligious spirit 

Arminius,  Works  of  Dr.  James 

.\ruauld,  M.  Agnes 

,  Marie  Angeliane 

Asbury,  .Tourual  of  Rev..Francis 

Asia,  absence  of  rising  sects 

,  as  a  mission  field,  openings,  en- 
couragements,  difficulties,    and 

wants  of 

,  climate  of 

,  European    colonies    and    posses- 
sions in 

,  existence  of  ancient,  thougli  cor- 
rupt, forms   of  (,'hristiauily   in, 

a  promising  indication 

,  extent  of  ten-itory  and  popula- 
tion of .'. 

FoL'UTii  Series,  Vol.  Y.- 


500 


Asia,  inhabited  by  seven  races....  Page    45 

,  number  of  languages  and  dialects 

of 51 

,  number  of  the  population  of,  to 

which  tlie  Church  has  accesa  ....     47 

,  proportion  of  missionaries  to  poji- 

ulation  in 55 

,  recent    improvements    in    ocean 

navigation  fiirni--.h  nev,'  facili- 
ties for  the  evangelization  of....     40 

,  religions  and  IjU'juages  of 4G 

,  science  and  literature  of,  barren 

and  shallow 53 

,  social  condition  in,  corrupt  and 

barbaric 54  • 

,  superticial  area,  general  divisions, 

and  population  of 44 

,  su[>crstion3  of,  becoming  effete...     49 

,  wholly  possessed  by  heathenism 

in  various  forms 53 

Athanasius  on  the  Christian  festivals..  155 

Athens  during  the  youth  of  Socratep375-377 

Bacon,  Francis S-'l,  4S3 

,  inlluence  of  his  labours 404 

,  the,  of  tlie  Nineteenth  Century..  480 

.conditions  which  must  be  satis- 
fied bv  any  jihilosopher  w  ho  m.ay 

claim'to  i,e  the 40(5 

Baconian  reform,  characteristics  of: — 
1.  Universality  of,  40O;  2.  Mah- 
iier  in  which  undertaken,  4'-*l ; 

3.  Christian  spirit  of  the,  404; 

4.  Depondenco  of,  on  previous 
forms  of  philosophy 405 

,  conditions  of  any  new  reform  that 

can  take  rank  with  the 406 

,  narrowed   and   dw  arfed    by    the 

successors  of  its  founder 505 

Barnes's  Commentary  on  the  Revela- 
tion   .'. 138 

Baunigarteu  on  tlie  Acts 315 

BecksMVter^  General  of  tlie  .Jesuits...  62'> 
Becque'rers  Des  Climats  et  de  I'lnflu- 
ence  qu'  escrcent  les  sols  Boisi's 

etuon  Hoises 'j23 

Bible,  circulation  of  the 439 

Biblical  critici>m 540 

,  the  design  of 5") 

Bibliotheca  I'hilologica 4^0 

ISiocrraphv-writiiig 3'j4 

Blackailer's  Chronological  New  Testa- 
ment   317 

Bledsoe's  Theodicy 617 


Lt  son  Te 


629 


40 


Bohemia,  t<-ndencics  to  reformation  in, 

treated  bv  Xeandcr 104 

Bohn's  Classical"  Library 135,  305 


r.3 

31:5 

4",)7 


634  INDEX. 

g^:t|s.^.in^  and  Glories  oM.e  ^J  ^— ^-^,"1^-!-:::::::;::::: 

iuessian exclusion  of  logic  and  mctftphys- 

caivinistic  view  of  original  sin    271      j^^^f  !•!!!"!!::!;:!.:::::;:::  ?i3 

Cannon'sLecturesonl>>Wlh^  ,^0 

Catechism  of  the  ^I-,*;,  ^?"[^^^;;;-^::::  *'^  i -elations  to  Bacon MO 

Chalmers,  Memoir  of  the  Lite  and  ^^  n    ^^^  , ^^^^^^^^^^  ^^  ^^^^^^,^j.^^. .,,^ 

Chara^t^;-;;f  tii^  Ba=n  rdo™  490  j  O^nscien^ 
Chateaubriand,  a  picture  in  the  Louvre  10. 


and    romantic 


112 

121 
114 
113 
U'O 
lOS 


117 


442 


enthusiasm 
traits  of  character 

,  his  nationality,  and  Gallic  ego 

tism 

,  his  political  career 

,  his  reminiscences  of  travel 

,  his  stvle 

,  his  wfitin'js  on  America 

.intense  personal  identity  pre- 
served throucrhout  his  writings, 
and  constituting  them  an  aut.> 
biographvof 10.^111 

,  practical  character  of  his  author- 

Cherbuliez's  Causes  de  la  :Miscre  tant 

Moral  que  rhYsique 

Christ,  Dr.  M'CuUoh's  view  of  divinitv 

of ••-,'- 

Christian  character,  the  times  call  lor 

a  higher  type  of 

Examiner  and  Dr.  Olin Ca)  1 

Christianity  and  mvsticinn Ibl 

,  Lectures  on  the  P:videncesof .•!- 

Christians,  duties  of  American 441 

Church    architecture    iu    the    Lnited 

States ~^yi 

Catechisms  of  the  M.  E 4;iG 

.constitution  of  the  primitive Im 

,  difficulties  in  the  way  ot  •:••••-•■     ^i 

,  duty  of,  with  respect  to  Asia  44,  4b,  ._>. 

,  encouragements  for  the w 

governinent,  principles  of ■ Hi 

.hereditary  wrongs  and  tradition- 

alerror^'of ••  130 

,  influence  which  the,  may  exert 

upon  reforms I'^U 

,  ministerial  education  in  the  M.  t.  ib\ 

,  most  of  Asia  open  to  the 47  [ 

of  F.n?land,  abuses  in 157,  4ib 

sixth"  volume  of  Neandor's  history 

of  the 10- I 

Tract  Socictv  of  the  M.  E i^j 

Circulation  of  the  Bible 439 

Circumstantial  testimony  the  only  sure 
demonstration  of  the  credibility 

of  the  Scriptures •]^^l 

Civilization  detined .._. ••••••••-  "^^ 

,  the  heathen  and  medueval,  of  Ire- 

land "••••.-•; ^^ 

.Vestiges  of.     (See  Fo^^iiTf*.) 

Clark's  Theological  Library 318,  4^J 

Clemens  Alexandrines,  Keinkens  on  ...  J->-' 
Clement's  Jac<iues  Caur  et  Charles  ^  II.  C'-b 


Constitution  of  the  priiuiliye  Churi-li_...  :.*7i 
Couybeare  and  Ilowson's  Life  and  Epis- 
tles of  St.  Paul 31G 

Credibility,   historic,  involved  in  the 

theory  of  Strauss T*' 

of  the  Christian  writers I'JiO 

of  the  Scrijitures,  only  sure  ground 

of  demou'-tration  of 2i'i'> 

Cycloptcdia  Bibliographica 4bG 


Darling's  Cyclopaedia  Bibliographica...  l.'iG 
Davidson  (D"r.) on  Biblical  Criticism  47'),  f. I'.t 
,  style  of -''67 

I  Demon  of  Socrates,  the ••  3... 

I  Descartes •••  4l':l  ^^ 

Discourses   from   the   spirit-world,  by 

Stephen  Olin '"» 

Divinitv  of  Christ,  Dr.  M'Culloh's  ^  i-w     ^^ 

of. :•.:'-::..• 

Dusterdieek's  Die  drei  Johaiintib.htn 

Briefe  "'" 

Duty  of  the  Church  with  refi)ect  t>     _ 
Asia -51.  ■*"-  '" 

Education,  ministerial,  in  the  M.  E. 

Church ■••••■  •*''' 

,  Thirteenth  Annual  Report  of  the 

Weslevan  Committee  of 4>  J 

Eichoff 's  Tableau  de  la  Literature  du 

Xord  an  Moycn  Age,  ie J'^^ 

Eleatic  school  of  pTiilosophy 


Eliot's  Discour: 


407 


Eloquence,  select  British,  by  Dr.  Good- 

rich ';,, 

EncvclopKdia  Britannica ''-[J 

Enthusiasm  of  Chateaubriand. .._...•.••;•  »i- 
'fTTiAauSilveTai,    in    Hebrews    ii,    IK 

meaning  of ^^'  j'.;'] 

Eras  of  nations •••••••• ,V,. 

Ethical  science,  a  reform  needed  m   ...  .>i  J 

European  literature,  Ut'^J ''«  '^''''''^-  l^^^ 

Evan-elists,  agreement  of  the -i^ 

~r.  cLLOiition  bv  which  to  : 


-,  a  supposition 


for  coincidences  among  1 


iiccount 
he 


^^^__^ _,      ^  301 

,  Job n''s('it^p<-l*compared  with  those 

of  the  other -•: •^" 

,  similarity  in  diversity,  and  diver- 

sitv  in  similarity  of •—.V.yr  ' 

Evil,  origin  of.     (See  ^'•'■^"' f/.f'';   '„ 
Ewald's    Jahrblicher    der    Biblischen 

Wisscnschaft  •■•"•  •'J* 

Excels  of  Hebrews  ii,  IC -'V.l'  "'''^ 

Exposition    ;^1}J^';^Z.  -m,  M2 


INDEX. 


635 


Faith,  according  to  the  teachings  of  the         I 

"  Sniritualists  " t...  IVie  174 

,  the  Eclipse  of m>,  4Gt 

Fall,  the oOS 

,  though  possible,  not  necessary  ...  571 

Father  Keeves '....  446  ' 

,  a  model  class-leader 447  I 

Finley,  (Rev.  J.  B..)  autobiography  of.  505  j 

Formation  of  a  Manly  Character 311  i 

Freedom,  advance  iu  human 43i',  434 


Garden  Walks  with  the  Poets,  by  Mrs. 

Kirkland 

General  of  the  Jesuits,  mode  of  ekct- 


Genuiueness  of  the  Pentateuch,  ac- 
knowledged by  the  ablest  his- 
torians       76 

Geographical  science 249  ; 

Geschlcht^  der  Reformation  in  Sohott-  I 

land,  by  Eudlolf 161  I 

God,  attributes   of,   attempt   to  prove  j 

from  ci'\<ifjn,  considered  35  | 

,  Clarke's  iDr.  S.)  argument  for  the  j 

existence   of,   drawn   fr<jm    our  I 

ideas  of  space  and  duration,  cou-  I 

sidered 32 

,  does  nature  lead  us  to  the  idea 

of  a 39 

,  existence  of,   not   assumed,   but 

recorded  by  the  Scriptures 41 

,  names  of,  in  the  Pentateuch 83 

,  the  a  posteriori  argument  for  ex- 
istence and  attributes  of,  con- 
sidered      35 

,  the  a  priori  argument  for  exist- 
ence and  attributes  of,considered     31 

,  triune  nature  of,  attempt  to  prove  | 

by  reason,  considered 32 

Gorrie's  Ejiiscojial  Methodism  as  it  was 

and  is G03 

Gospel,  nearly  the  entire  globe  open  to 

the  preaching  of  the 438 

Gospels,  Strong's  Harmony  of  the 3-54 

Government  of  Japan 292 

,  principles  of  Church 147 

Greek  and  Roman  mythology 471 

Church,  works  on  the 621 

Griesbacli.(I)r.John  James,) his  editions 

of  the  New  Testament 503 

Guizot,  recent  publications  of 305 

Habits,  intellectual  and  physical,  which 

should  characterize  a  minister...  548 
Hagenbach's    Christliche    Kirche    der 

drei  erston  Jahrhunderte 477 

Haldane.  brothers.  Life  of 154 

Hart's  Eiiitome  of  Greek  and  Roman 

Mythology 471 

Hass(?'s  Anselm  von  Canterbury...  479,  576 
Hebrew  MSS.  as  a  means  of  correcting 

the  text 556 

Hedding,  (Rev.  Elijah,)  birth  and  early 

years  of 9,  10 

. ,  character  as  a  bishop  10 

,  closing  scenes  of  his  life 2i3-29 

,  his  catholicity  18 

,  his  energy  of  character 12 

,  bis  success 12 


Heddin"',  (Rev.  Elijah,)  intellectual 
character  and  literary  attain- 
ments of Page     17 

,  is  admitted  by  N.  Y.  Annual  Con- 
ference, June  16,  1801 10 

,  licensed  to  exhort  in  1799 10 

,  licensed  to  i>reach  10 

,  ordained  bishop,  May  28,  1824...     15 

,  ordained  deacon,  18(j3 12 

,  ordained  elder,  1805  12 

,  self-distrust 16 

,  severe  ilinc=s,  1832 19 

Hengstenberg  (IHm  on  the  Pentateuch     75 
Hengstenberg's  Hohelicd  Salomonis...  470 

Henkle  on  Church  Government 147 

Hetherington's  Historv  of  the  Westmin- 
ster Assembly  of  Divines f>'t7 

Hilgenfeld  der  Galaterbrief 318 

Hirscher's  Sympathies  of  the  Continent  150 
HoUard  ]Je  rilomme  et  des  Races  Hu- 

maines G25 

HoUiday's  Life  and  Times  of  Rev.  Al- 
len Wiley 461 

Holmes's  Wesley  Offering  OH 

Hosmer  on  the  iligher  Law 143 

Hudson's  Shakspeare 467 

Humanity,  an  oljject  of  adoration,  as 

held  by  M.  Conite 503 

Humboldt,  liives  of  the  brothers  Alex- 
ander and  William 475 

Huss,  Xeander's  opinion  of 10.'> 

Hyperides,  the  New  Fragments  of 5S 

Idolatry,  according  to  the  teaching  of 

the  Spiritualists 174 

Immigration  into  this  country 437 

Immortality  of  the  soul,  not  demon- 
strable apart  from  Scripture 33 

Inlldelity IsO 

Inquisition,  the oCKJ 

lustauratio  ^Maxima,  what  may  be  ex- 
pected from  the 512 

Instauration. universality  contemplated 

by  the  Baoouian  .'. 490 

Intellectual  regeneration  demanded  by 

the  times 510 

,  how  only  it  can  be  achieved .'•ll 

Intelligence,  delined 123 

,  intluonce  of,  on  personal  piety....  12S 

,  relation  of,  to  theelKciciu-y  of  the 

Church  in  ag^'ressive  operations  131 

,  relation  of,  to  the  efhciency  of  th"> 

Churcli  in  her  cooperation  with 

the  world 129 

,  relation  of.  to  the  jdety  and  etH- 

ciency  of  the  Church.." 123 

Investiture,    (pnarrels    respecting    the 

right  of oSl.  5so 

Ireland,  early  arts  of, — 1.  Poetry,  411 ; 

2.  Architecture 422 

,  early  authors  of 4M0 

,  early  laws  of 424 

,  early  literature  of 410 

,  the  heathen  and  media;vul  civili- 

z.ation  of 4<.i4 

Itinerancy  at  the  becrinning  of  the  pres- 
ent century,  trials  and  labours  of,     11 

introduced    into    the    Prussian 

Church 100 


INDEX. 


Jacobi,  (Trof.,)  letters  from...  Puge  157,  480 

Jacobus's  Notes  on  the  Gospels 614 

Jacoby's  Handbuch  des  Methodismus...  61S 

Janseuius,  Cornelius 192 

Japan  and  the  Japanese 282 

,  commercial  import.ance  of 288 

,  foreign  intercourse  with.uot  toler- 
ated    2S7 

,  jjovernment  of 292 

,  persecution  of  all  foreigners  and 

Christians  in 28.5 

,  position  of  woman  in 288 

,  printing,  when  known  in 2S9 

,  prospect  of  commercial  and  social 

intercourse  with,  and  its  prob- 
able results 297-301 

,  religion  of 29.5,  297 

Jesuits,  mode  of  electing  a  general  of 

the C20 

,  the,   and    their  hostility  to   the 

Fort  Royalists 200 

,  the,  in  Japan 283 

John  the  Baptist,  was  he,  or  Elijah, 
w  ith  our  Lord  ou  the  Mount  of 

Transfiguration 456 

Journal  of  Rev.  Francis  Asburv 599 


Kingsley's  Phaethon 608 

Kitto's  Daily  liible  Illustrations 139 

Law  as  the  ground  of  moral  obligation  519 

liUws,  the  early,  of  Ireland 424 

Lavard's  Monuments  of  Nineveh 326 

431 
12 


Learning  as  a  sign  of  the  times 

,  intluence  of,  on  personal  piety  ... 

in  the  Church 

in  the  clergy 

Literature,  early,  of  Ireland 

Logic  excluded   from  Comte's   philos- 
ophy   


Microscopist,  the Page  140 

Ministerial   education    in    the   M.   E. 

Church 4C4 

Miracles 181,  402 

Miscellanies  of  Ncander 106 

Mibsionarv  labour,   nearly  the  entire 

globe  open  to 4.3S 

,  wants  of  the  present  age 443 

Missions,  .Methodist 322 

^Monarchy,  i-cstonition  of,  in  France  313,  46s 

Monastery  of  Port  Royal 191 

,  demoliihod  by  the  Jesuits,  171U..  2iiS 

,  founded  in  1204 19:'. 

Morality,  Comte's  standard  of 501 

Moral  obligation,  benefit  received,  tlie 

ground  of 513,  516,  522,  526 

declared  by  the  New  Testament...  53U 

imposed  out  of  regard  to  the  well- 
being  of  its  subjects 521 

,  iusuthciency  of  all  other  reastflis 

which  can  be  assigned  for 516 

shown  from  the  divine  law 526 

,  substitutes  for  the   true  ground 

of. 516->52tl 

Morell's  Analysis  of  Sentences 106 

Motives,  as  attecting  the  freedom  of  tlie 

will 202 

of  human  action 13 

3Iystics    of    the    fourteenth    century, 

Neander's  essay  ou 1'.''' 

Mythology,  Hart's  Epitome   of  Greek 

and  Roman 471 

Names  of  God  in  the  Pentateuch ^^ 

National  Maqrazine,  noticed li 


125  I  Natural  theology,  limits  and  enibarr.iss 

126  ments  of 

410    Nature,  does  it  lead  us  to  the  idea  of  i 


505 


Manners,  the  book  of 309 

Marie  Ang6liquo  Aruauld 193 

,  death  of 203 

,  letter  by 199 

,  saying  of,  respecting  the  suffi- 
ciency of  Scrii)ture 202 

Materials  for  a  critical  investiiratiou 
of  the  OU  and  New  Testa- 
ment  551,  558,  559 

Matter,  created  or  eternal,  reason  un- 
able to  determine 35 

Matthai's  Die  Auslegung  des  Vaterun- 

ser 619 

Maurice's  Prophets  and  Kings 317 

M't'lure's  Memoir  of  the  Translators...  47ik 
M'CuUoh  on  anniliilation  of  the  wicked  276 

on  the  divinity  of  Christ 272-275 

on  the  resurrection 275 

ou  the  Scriptures 257 

Mere  Anastatic _.  209 

Metaphysics    excluded    from   Comte's 

speculations 505 

Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  extent  of 

the,  at  the  jirescut  time IS 

,  extent   of    the,   half  a   century 

since .".     18 

property  case 136 

missions 322 


Neander,  aim  of,  in  the  sixth  volume 

of  his  Church  History 1<M 

,  bis  essay  on  the  Mystics  of  tlic 

fourteenth  century l'^| 

,  his  miscellanies 1"6 

,  his  opinion  of  Huss l*^'' 

,  his  opinion  of  Wiclif. 1^1 

,  Krabbe  on 1^*^ 

,  plan  jiursued  bv,  in   the  former 

volumes  of  his  Church  History  ..  101 

,  recently  published  writings  of....  102 

Necessitariaus,  fallacy  of,  on  the  sub-  ^^ 

ject  of  motives "||; 

Nero •_••■  ■'.'•' 

Newman,  (Mr.)  dogmas  of....  171,  li2,  L7 

,  dogmas  of,  carried  out !'•' 

New  Testament,  ancient  versions  of....  5ii' 

,  Rarnes's  Commentary  on IS^^ 

criticism,  history  of  modern 5<>! 

,  materials  for  a  critical  investiga- 
tion of  the -'-'^ 

MSS.,   the    uncial   and  the    cur- 
sive    ^f^l 

^  present  received  test  of  the .>')- 

\  Scholz's  (Dr.)  critical  work  on....  561 

Olds's  Philosophy  and" Practice  of  Faich  615 
Old  Testament,  materials  for  a  critical 

investigation  of  the 551,  55S 

Oliu,  (Dr.)  Life  and  Letters  of. <"''>•' 


INDEX. 


6^ 


Olin,    (Dr.,)    "Spiritual"    Discourses 

|,y I'aje  GOl 

Oracula'Sibvlliaa lOi 

Ordination  'not   a  Christian,   but  the 
continuation   of  a  Jewish  civil 


Probationary  statu,  the Page  2ul 

I'rnssia,  ilie  Church  in 1-J',  l^" 

,  the  Jesuits  ia ^^"^ 

Puyuode's  De  la  Monnaie,  auCi-eJit  et 

de  rinipoc i>-' 


Quarrel  between  Williara  11.  and  An 
selm,  Arclili'shop  of  Canterbury 
respecting  the  right  of  investi 
ture 


81,  OSJ 


practice -^^ 

Original  sin,  Calvinistic  theory  of 271 

Oriicin  of  evil i^'>^ 

1,  He-el's  theory  of ^68 

,  Leibnitz's  assumption  respecting  _ 

,  Mosairaccouut'oTth7.V.y/.V.''.'.'.".'.*.  569  Races,  the  seven,  of  Asia •     i 

Muller-s  theory  of 5G9,  573  Katioualists  and  smr.tuai.sis  answered 

Rothe-s  theory-  of oGS,  57:3  ni  ••  ibe  Lcl.pse  oi  iaith    1.0 

•'  Reason  and  laith,  antagonism  ol ^^' 

Pantheism  rise  of 335  antl  revelation,  respecting'  tliona- 

S^i^;'^.Sof  Ad;:^>  and  Eve....  209 j  ture  of  n.an  and  the  on.ui  uf     ^^ 

Parallel  Passa-es  in  the  Old  Testament  odli\  fvil ;:;- 

^      0  and  the  new  school         j ,  the  a  poMcnon  process  ............     o.> 

lGJ-185  .attempt  ot,   to  dennaistracc  Hie 

l.:„;i  existence  of  God,  a  pri',,1 

■■■"■  o^yi\ .attempt  of,   to  demonstrate   t 

'.'.'.'.'.'.  470 ' 


..  31G 

..    53-i: 

..  341 


32 


existence  of  tJod  from  our  ide 
of  space  and  duration 

,  attempt  of,  to  prove  the  immor- 
tality of  the  soul • 3;? 

,  attenipt  of,  to  prove  the  triune 

nature  of  God S2 

,  etforts  and  results  of,  as  shown 

in  history "J'." 

,  incompetence   of,  iii  matters   of    ^^ 

religion '-"^ 

,  unaided  bv  revelation,  retrogres- 

sive .,    . 

, .-, ,  Reasouinir,  analogical • •••••••. --''^ 

S3I ,  method  of,  pursued  in  "ve^tig.-s 

of  Civilization" 2Jl--3> 


7iV 


Parker  (Theod. 

"Spiritualists" 

Pascal's  Piuvincial  Letters 

Pastoral  Theology,  by  Vinet 

,  Cannon's  VDr.)  Lectures  on  ... 

Paul,  Life  and  Epistles  of 

,  Second  Epistle  of,  to  Timothy 

Platonirm 

Peck's  Eormatiou  of  a  Manly  Character  311 
Pelletan's   IVofession   de  Eoi  du   Dix 

Xeuvieme  .Siecle 6-5 1 

Pentateuch  and  the  art  of  writing  in      _| 

the  Mosaic  age S7  | 

and  the  times  of  the  Judges 8S  j 

,  genuineness  of  the, acknowledged     ^^| 

by  the  ablest  historians 76] 

,  Hosea's  allusions  to  the,  785  B.C. 

,  n.ames  of  God  in  the 

possessed  by  the  Samaritans 

,  seeming  anachronisms  of  the 

,  statements  of  the,  respecting  its 

author 

,  summary  of  ari,'umeuts   for  the 

genuineness  and  authenticityof 

,  theology  of  the,  in  relation  to  its 

genuineness  

,  traces  of  the,  in  Amos,  7S7  15.  C.. 

,  traces  of  the,  in  Books  of  Kings.. 

written   prior  to  the  Babylonian 

captivity ••• 

Philosophy,  comprehensiveness  of  Aris- 
totle's   

,  Eleatic  school  of 

,  Ionic  school  of 

,  Italic  school  of 

of  Comte 

01  Comte  not  universal 

Poetry  of  the  vegetable  world 

Port  Uoyal r 

,  valley  of,  in  l'^24 

Port  Uoyal'ists,  persecution  of,  by  the 

Positii'S;gV:bv  L;wVy\'!^:.:'!!:  iGi'Revelation    does    not    fear 

Positivism  of  M.'C.mte -i'J'^ :  tion  

,  a  mutihitcil  fraction  of  liaconian 

philosophy  systematized 

,  examined  at  length 

,  standard  of  morality  in  tlio  sy 

torn  of 

P,.t<s*s  IVeacher  and  King 

I'reseut  age,  character  of  the 


?j\ 


«,)•>' Reeves.     (See  Fitlu 

I  Reform,  an  intellectual,  demanded  l.y 
oil  the  civilized  world •_''-' 

i ,  needed  in  ethicd  .  iemc ..10 

99  aieformation,  D'Aubiguc's  lli-t.ry  of, 

I  Yol.V ,.   . 

conducted  by  irreligious 


599 


96 i Reforms,   as  couductea  by  nreuguuis 
'•"I  mei-  ^^^ 


500 


glj! ,  inllucnce  which  the  Church  may 

j  exert  upon ^' 

77  Regeneration,  Sciirs  on • ^' 

Religion,  practical  bearings  ot  the  ques- 

tion •. ;.    ; 

^.-^. ,  I ,  reason  incompetent  m  matters  ot     . 

?,32;R»'lio''"-s  '^t'  -'^'<i'' ■.;,"-■■  .„ 

S3i. of  Japan • :  r''"'  ' 

-,1:5 1  Religious  si.irit  perva.lmg  tlie  wnluig>  ^ 

jlQi  of  Aristotle.... '.' 

4r,s  '  Remusat,  as  a  hi.-t'irian.. ....... •••••••■■••■  ■' 

IMl  I  Resurrection,  as  held  by  Dr.  M  I  ulloh    ' 

.,■,,; ,  the  human  body  at  the 4 

iReuss'sGeschichte  dcr  Hciligea  >chrift- 
207!  en  Neuen  Testame-' ■ 


how  to  c.nduct  an  argument  on 
5(H;  '    the  tr.rth  of  ............ •..•••■•••••••• 

409  : ,  imp-.s-ibihty  ot  a,  debated...  1. 1, 

[Rogers's  Eclipse  of  Faith 

501 'Romans,  Epistle  to  the.  exanun.Hl 

4(;G  Rome:  its  Ediliccs  and  its  1  e..pK' 

427   Roothau,  late  general  of  tlie  Jcsiuts.... 


638 


INDEX. 


Rudloff,  Geschichte  der  Reformation  in 

Schottland Pacje  IGl 

Hnle's  Brand  of  Dominie IGo,  306 

Russia,  growth  of 437 

Samaritan  Pentateuch,  the 553 

Samaritans,  the  Pentateuch  in  Greek, 
Samaritan,  and  Arabic,  possess- 
ed by  the 7S 

Schneider,  (K.  Y.  T.,)  a  student  of 
Neander's,    and    editor    of   his 

posthumous  ^vorks 103 

Scholz.  (Dr.,)  critical  work  of,  on  New 

Testament 564 

Science,  new  discoveries  in,  and  new 

applications  of 429 

,  tlie,  of  geographj-  and  statistics...  249 

,  triumphs  of,    iu   the   domain  of 

commerce 

Septuagint,  the 

Signs  of  the  times 

,  as  seen  in  the  political  world 

,  as  seen  in  the  religious  world  .... 

,  as  seen  in  the  world  of  learning.. 

,  as  seen  in  the  world  of  nature  ... 

,'as  seen  iu  the  world  of  science 

and  art 

Smith's  History  and  Religion  of  the 

Gentile  S'ations 

Society,  American    Geographical    and 

Statistical 

,  moral  and  religious   tendencies 

of,  apart  from  a  saving  knowl- 
edge of  divine  truth 

Socrates 373  j 

,  accusation  of 3S8  j 

as  a  teacher 3^4 1 

,  birth  and  early  years  of 374 

,  causes  of  the  unpopularity  of 387 

,  death  of S92 

,  demon  of 379  ! 

,  his  views  of  his  mission 382  j 

,  method  of,  with  a  sophist....  339,  385: 

,  personal  appearance  and  habits 

of 383 

.trial  of 3S9j 

Socratic  acre,  the 332; 

SophLsts,  the 330,  37G  i 

,  Socrates's  method  with  the..  339,  385  | 

Spicilegium  Solesmense 481 1 

Statistical  science * 249! 

Steam,  applications  of. 430; 

St.  C\Tan 1921 

Stoughtou's  Lights  of  the  World 614  | 

Strauss's  theory  of  historic  credibility.  184, 
Strickland's  Manual  of  Biblical  Litera-  | 

ture 6*^4  i 

Strong's  Harmony  of  the  Gospels 354 1 

362,  474  1 


Strong's  Manual  of  the  Gospels...  Page  i'i 
Stroud's  New  Greek  Harmony  of  the 

Four  Gospels 614 

Suidas,  Bernliardy's  new  edition  of 327 

Sunday-school  books 112 

Tauchnitz's  Cauones  et  Decreta  Con- 

cilii  Tridentini C2I 

Targums 553 

Telegraph,  the  magnetic 431 

Temptation,  the,  of  our  first  parents...  572 
Thierry's  Essai   sur  I'Histoire   de    la 
Formation    et   des    l*rogres   du 

Tiers-ctat 021) 

Times,  signs  of  the 420 

Timothy,  Second  Epistle  of  Paul  to 534 

Tract  Society  of  the  M.  E.  Church 4S5 

Transfiguration,  presence  of  John  the 

Baptist  at  the 456 

Translators,     M'Glure's    Memoirs     of 

the 470 

Unitarian  view  of  the  unity  of  God  and 

regeneration 4C7 

United  Church  of  Prussia 15.S 

Urban,  Pope,  bribed  by  William  II 5^ 

Yail  on  Ministerial  Education  in  the 

M.  E.  Church i<<i 

Versions,  ancient,  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment   50(J 

,  of  the  Pesbito,  or  old  Syriac  ver- 
sion    'y^' 

,  of  the  Samaritan  Pentateuch .'-VJ 

,  of  the  Scrijitures 5M 

,  of  the  Septuagint '''I 

— — ,  of  the  Targums,  or  Chaldcc  ver- 
sions  '  •'■'■• 

,  of  the  Vulgate •'•-■'■■» 

Vestiges  of  Civilization,  reviewed -K' 

,  aim  and  premises  of 2;'.S 

,  fanciful  analogies  in 22t 

,  infidelity  of  the •••  247 

,  method  of  reasoning  pursued  in 

the 231-2.X-. 

,  style  of  the 21.'S 

Vinet's 'Pastoral  Theology 3'j7 

Vulgate,  history  of  the ^^I 

Wardlaw  on  Miracles •"'^ 

War  of  the  Fronde ^""^ 

Wielif,  Neander's  opinion  of 1^-^ 

Wiley,    (Rev .  Allen,)   Life  and  Times 

'   of j,^\ 

Woman's  Record  •'^^ 

Worship,  the  mode  of -'^ 

Writing,  the  art  of,  known  in  the  Miv 

sale  age ^' 

Wythes's  Essay  on  the  Pastoral  Otlice.  C)2 


INDEX    OF    TEXTS 


OLD   TESTAMENT. 


Gen.  i,  1 Page    41  Deut.  xvii,  IS 

ii,  l-i  8."i  sxix,  21  

ii.  17 527,  569  xxxi,  21-2G. 

iii,  5 574  xxxii,  4 

iv,  1,16 8-5 

T,  24 86  Josh.  V,  5 

vii,  16  B6  xvi,  10 

xii,  6 92  isiv,  26 

xiii,  6,  7 92; 

xiv,  14 92  Judg.i,20 

xvii,  1 527  , i,  22-25 

xxii,  18 304 

xxxvi.  31 93 

xlix,  10 546 


.  Pacre 


9111  Cliron.  i,  43. 

91j XX,  8 

91 
574'Jobxiv,  14 


Exod.  iii,  23 


vi,  26,  27.... 

xii,  4,  7 

xvii,  14 

xxxiv,  6,  7.. 


Num.  xxiii,  19... 

Deut.  1,1 

vi,  3 

ix,  22-24... 


2  Sam.  V,  7-9. 
xxiv,  6 .. 


98  1  Kincs  iv,  24.. 

84  ix,  16 

94  xii,  2?,  33 

88  xvi.  34 

91; xvii,  1 •..     80 

43: xviii,  23,  33 80 

! XX,  42 ^ 

97I xxi,  3,  10 80 

I xxii 98 

951 
523  2  Kings  iv,  1,  16,  23  ......    80 

941 xvii 


Pai^e    03 
:..  K*) 


111, 


4,5. 
21... 


Mai.  iii,  1 


43 


..    89Psa.  ii,  2-4 53 

..    94  ii,  8 M 

..     89! xvi,  1 '''M 

I xvi.  2 5J6 

..     901 xxiii,  2 447 

..     93' 

Prov.  xvi,  4 526 

99 

..    93  Isa.  XXXV,  8 ^^ 

I xl,3 4:.6 

...    96i xlix,  6 3*.ti 

-     »-t' 

SO,  SliEzek.  XXV,  23 ^13 

...    94 

Amos  ii,  10-12... 


KEW  TESTAMENT. 


Matt,  iv,  25 

..  Page  357  Mark  xii,  27 

...Page    43 

Luke  xiii,  10,  22... 

Pa-O  Jl'3 

xiii,  3 

?..  127  i 

xiii,  31 

52  Luke  vi,  1 

357 

xiii,  "4 

xvii.  11-19... 

xviii,  14 

xiii,  33 

52  ix,  51 

358 

i'>') 

xiv,  31 

302  X,  16 

359 

.v.-* 

XV,  1 

xvi,  3 

.'.'.".".'.".".'."  426   x!  22.'..'.'...'. 

359 

xix.  13.". 

„  4J7 

4.^! 

xvii,  3 

456! X,  27 

531 

xviii,  19.... 

xxiii,  37.... 

84! X,  38.  30.... 

'.'..'...'.....  357 

Jolm  iii.  If 

v,  1 

vii,  2.40 

.'.31 

XXV,  46 

xxviii,  15.. 

43, xi,  13.  14... 

96. xiii,  9 

".'.■.'.' 359 

o:>i 

640 


INDEX  OF  TEXTS. 


John  \-iii,  59 Page  35S  i  Gal.  Hi,  16 

x,-'l 3.jsl 

X,  22 358  ■Eph.  ii,  20-: 

—  X,  id 3.-;s 

xi,  l-W 3.-i9 


xii,  1 . 


Acts  xvii,  2.". 
■ xxi,  3;3  . 


Rom.  i.  20-2: 

i,  21 

V,  12-1.- 

—  xii.'h,.' 
XV,  4  .. 


je  301 
...  39S 


Phil,  il,  7 302 

iii,  10 r2C 


-  ^i 


4  Col.  i,  10,17 

1  Thess.  V,  23,  24  ... 

2  Thess.  ii,  11 


274 
450 

98 

40 

.38  Hob.  ii,  IC 301 

571  ii,  10 4r- 

303  V,  4 453 

91  [ xi,  20 52S 

301 xii,  14 


1  Cor.  iii,  1-17 392,  3941 1  Tim.  ii,  14  . 

iii,  11 532 i iii,  10.... 

V).  3 


."..'..  303  i 


30J 


2  Tim Pai;c  534 

i,  5,  C,  14 MO 

i,  8 542 

ii,  1,  0 545 

ii,  2 543 

ii,  9 545 

ii,  10 545 

ii,  14,  15 545 

iii,  10,11 540 

iii,  14,  15 540 

iv,  C 549 

IPeterii,  5 398 

1  John  ii,  10 573 

iv,  19 531 

V,  4 444 

v,7 273 

Rev.  iv,  8,  11 43 

I iv,  11 526 

! xiii,  8 533 


45  37    i-