BY THE REV. JAMES MARSH.[7]

Whether the present state of religions feeling, and the prevailing

topics of theological inquiry among us, are particularly favourable to

the success of the Work herewith offered to the Public can be

determined only by the result. The question, however, has not been

left unconsidered; and however that may be, it is not a work, the

value of which depends essentially upon its relation to the passing

controversies of the day. Unless I distrust my own feelings and

convictions altogether, I must suppose, that for some, I hope for

many, minds, it will have a deep and enduring interest. Of those

classes, for whose use it is more especially designated in the

Author's Preface, I trust there are many also in this country, who

will justly appreciate the objects at which it aims, and avail

themselves of its instruction and assistance. I could wish it might be

received, by all who concern themselves in religious inquiries and

instruction especially, in the spirit which seems to me to have

animated its great and admirable author; and I hesitate not to say,

that to all of every class, who shall so receive it, and peruse it

with the attention and thoughtfulness, which it demands and deserves,

it will be found by experience to furnish, what its title imports,

"AIDS TO REFLECTION" on subjects, upon which every man is bound to

reflect deeply and in earnest.

What the specific objects of the Work are, and for whom it is written,

may be learned in a few words from the Preface of the Author. From

this, too, it will be seen to be professedly didactic. It is designed

to aid those who wish for instruction, or assistance in the

instruction of others. The plan and composition of the Work will to

most readers probably appear somewhat anomalous; but reflection upon

the nature of the objects aimed at, and some little experience of its

results, may convince them that the method adopted is not without its

advantages. It is important to observe, that it is designed, as its

general characteristic, to aid REFLECTION, and for the most part upon

subjects which can be learned and understood only by the exercise of

reflection in the strict and proper sense of that term. It was not so

much to teach a speculative system of doctrines built upon established

premises, for which a different method would have been obviously

preferable, as to turn the mind continually back upon the premises

themselves--upon the inherent grounds of truth and error in its own

being. The only way in which it is possible for any one to learn the

science of words, which is one of the objects to be sought in the

present Work, and the true import of those words especially, which

most concern us as rational and accountable beings, is by reflecting

upon and bringing forth into distinct consciousness, those mental acts

which the words are intended to designate. We must discover and

distinctly apprehend different meanings, before we can appropriate to

each a several word, or understand the words so appropriated by

others. Now it is not too much to say, that most men, and even a large

proportion of educated men, do not reflect sufficiently upon their

own inward being, upon the constituent laws of their own

understanding, upon the mysterious powers and agencies of reason, and

conscience, and will, to apprehend with much distinctness the objects

to be named, or of course to refer the names with correctness to their

several objects. Hence the necessity of associating the study of words

with the study of morals and religion; and that is the most effectual

method of instruction, which enables the teacher most successfully to

fix the attention upon a definite meaning, that is, in these studies,

upon a particular act, or process, or law of the mind--to call it into

distinct consciousness, and assign to it its proper name, so that the

name shall thenceforth have for the learner a distinct, definite, and

intelligible sense. To impress upon the reader the importance of this,

and to exemplify it in the particular subjects taken up in the Work,

is a leading aim of the Author throughout; and it is obviously the

only possible way by which we can arrive at any satisfactory and

conclusive results on subjects of philosophy, morals, and religion.

The first principles, the ultimate grounds, of these, so far as they

are possible objects of knowledge for us, must be sought and found in

the laws of our being, or they are not found at all. The knowledge of

these, terminates in the knowledge of ourselves, of our rational and

personal being, of our proper and distinctive humanity, and of that

Divine Being, in whose image we are created. "We must retire inward,"

says St. Bernard, "if we would ascend upward." It is by

self-inspection, by reflecting upon the mysterious grounds of our own

being, that we can alone arrive at any rational knowledge of the

central and absolute ground of all being. It is by this only, that we

can discover that principle of unity and consistency, which reason

instinctively seeks after, which shall reduce to an harmonious system

all our views of truth and of being, and destitute of which all the

knowledge that comes to us from without is fragmentary, and in its

relation to our highest interests as rational beings but the

patch-work of vanity.

Now, of necessity, the only method, by which another can aid our

efforts in the work of reflection, is by first reflecting himself, and

so pointing out the process and marking the result by words, that we

can repeat it, and try the conclusions by our own consciousness. If he

have reflected aright, if he have excluded all causes of

self-deception, and directed his thoughts by those principles of truth

and reason, and by those laws of the understanding, which belong in

common to all men, his conclusions must be true for all. We have only

to repeat the process, impartially to reflect ourselves, unbiassed by

received opinions, and undeceived by the idols of our own

understandings, and we shall find the same truths in the depths of our

own self-consciousness. I am persuaded that such, for the most part,

will be found to be the case with regard to the principles developed

in the present Work, and that those who, with serious reflection and

an unbiassed love of truth, will refer them to the laws of thought in

their own minds, to the requirements of their own reason, will find

there a witness to their truth.

Viewing the Work in this manner, therefore, as an instructive and safe

guide to the knowledge of what it concerns all men to know, I cannot

but consider it in itself as a work of great and permanent value to

any Christian community. Whatever indeed tends to awaken and cherish

the power, and to form the habit, of reflection upon the great

constituent principles of our own permanent being and proper humanity,

and upon the abiding laws of truth and duty, as revealed in our reason

and conscience, cannot but promote our highest interests as moral and

rational beings. Even if the particular conclusions, to which the

Author has arrived, should prove erroneous, the evil is comparatively

of little importance, if he have at the same time communicated to our

minds such powers of thought, as will enable us to detect his errors,

and attain by our own efforts to a more perfect knowledge of the

truth. That some of his views may not be erroneous, or that they are

to be received on his authority, the Author, I presume, would be the

last to affirm; and although in the nature of the case it was

impossible for him to aid reflection without anticipating, and in some

measure influencing, the results, yet the primary tendency and design

of the Work is, not to establish this or that system, but to cultivate

in every mind the power and the will to seek earnestly and steadfastly

for the truth in the only direction, in which it can ever be found.

The work is no further controversial, than every work must be, "that

is writ with freedom and reason" upon subjects of the same kind; and

if it be found at variance with existing opinions and modes of

philosophizing, it is not necessarily to be considered the fault of

the writer.

In republishing the Work in this country, I could wish that it might

be received by all, for whose instruction it was designed, simply as a

didactic work, on its own merits, and without controversy. I must not,

however, be supposed ignorant of its bearing upon those questions,

which have so often been, and still are, the prevailing topics of

theological controversy among us. It was indeed incumbent on me,

before inviting the attention of the religious community to the Work,

to consider its relation to existing opinions, and its probable

influence on the progress of truth. This I have done with as severe

thought as I am capable of bestowing upon any subject, and I trust too

with no want of deference and conscientious regard to the feelings and

opinions of others. I have not attempted to disguise from myself, nor

do I wish to disguise from the readers of the Work, the inconsistency

of some of its leading principles with much that is taught and

received in our theological circles. Should it gain much of the public

attention in any way, it will become, as it ought to do, an object of

special and deep interest to all, who would contend for the truth, and

labour to establish it upon a permanent basis. I venture to assure

such, even those of them who are most capable of comprehending the

philosophical grounds of truth in our speculative systems of theology,

that in its relation to this whole subject they will find it to be a

Work of great depth and power, and, whether right or wrong, eminently

deserving their attention. It is not to be supposed that all who read,

or even all who comprehend it, will be convinced of the soundness of

its views, or be prepared to abandon those which they have long

considered essential to the truth. To those, whose understandings by

long habit have become limited in their powers of apprehension, and as

it were identified with certain schemes of doctrine, certain modes of

contemplating all that pertains to religious truth, it may appear

novel, strange, and unintelligible, or even dangerous in its tendency,

and be to them an occasion of offence. But I have no fear that any

earnest and single-hearted lover of the truth as it is in Jesus, who

will free his mind from the idols of preconceived opinion, and give

himself time and opportunity to understand the Work by such reflection

as the nature of the subject renders unavoidable, will find in it any

cause of offence, or any source of alarm. If the Work become the

occasion of controversy at all, I should expect it from those, who,

instead of reflecting deeply upon the first principles of truth in

their own reason and conscience and in the word of God, are more

accustomed to speculate--that is, from premises given or assumed, but

considered unquestionable, as the constituted point of observation, to

look abroad upon the whole field of their intellectual vision, and

thence to decide upon the true form and dimensions of all which meets

their view. To such I would say with deference, that the merits of

this Work cannot be determined by the merely relative aspect of its

doctrines, as seen from the high ground of any prevailing metaphysical

or theological system. Those on the contrary who will seek to

comprehend it by reflection, to learn the true meaning of the whole

and of all its parts, by retiring into their own minds and finding

there the true point of observation for each, will not be in haste to

question the truth or the tendency of its principles. I make these

remarks because I am anxious, as far as may be, to anticipate the

causeless fears of all, who earnestly pray and labour for the

promotion of the truth, and to preclude that unprofitable controversy,

which might arise from hasty or prejudiced views of a Work like this.

At the same time I should be far from deprecating any discussion which

might tend to unfold more fully the principles which it teaches, or to

exhibit more distinctly its true bearing upon the interests of

theological science and of spiritual religion. It is to promote this

object, indeed, that I am induced in the remarks which follow to offer

some of my own thoughts on these subjects, imperfect I am well aware,

and such as, for that reason, as well as others, worldly prudence

might require me to suppress. If, however, I may induce reflecting

men, and those who are engaged in theological inquiries especially, to

indulge a suspicion that all truth, which it is important for them to

know, is not contained in the systems of doctrine usually taught, and

that this Work may be worthy of their serious and reflecting perusal,

my chief object will be accomplished. I shall of course not need to

anticipate in detail the contents of the Work itself, but shall aim

simply to point out what I consider its distinguishing and essential

character and tendency, and then direct the attention of my readers to

some of those general feelings and views on the subjects of religious

truth, and of those particulars in the prevailing philosophy of the

age, which seem to me to be exerting an injurious influence on the

cause of theological science and of spiritual religion, and not only

to furnish a fit occasion, but to create an imperious demand, for a

Work like that which is here offered to the public.

In regard then to the distinguishing character and tendency of the

Work itself, it has already been stated to be didactic, and designed

to aid reflection on the principles and grounds of truth in our own

being; but in another point of view, and with reference to my present

object, it might rather be denominated A PHILOSOPHICAL STATEMENT AND

VINDICATION OF THE DISTINCTIVELY SPIRITUAL AND PECULIAR DOCTRINES OF

THE CHRISTIAN SYSTEM. In order to understand more clearly the import

of this statement, and the relation of the Author's views to those

exhibited in other systems, the reader is requested to examine in the

first place, what he considers the _peculiar doctrines of

Christianity_, and what he means by the terms _spirit_ and

_spiritual_. A synoptical view of what he considers peculiar to

Christianity as a revelation is given in Aphorism VII., on Spiritual

Religion, and, if I mistake not, will be found essentially to

coincide, though not perhaps in the language employed, with what among

us are termed the Evangelical doctrines of religion. Those who are

anxious to examine further into the orthodoxy of the Work in

connection with this statement, may consult the articles on ORIGINAL

SIN and REDEMPTION,[8] though I must forewarn them that it will

require much study in connection with the other parts of the Work,

before one unaccustomed to the Author's language, and unacquainted

with his views, can fully appreciate the merit of what may be peculiar

in his mode of treating those subjects. With regard to the term

_spiritual_, it may be sufficient to remark here, that he regards it

as having a specific import, and maintains that in the sense of the

New Testament, _spiritual_ and _natural_ are contradistinguished, so

that what is spiritual is different in kind from that which is

natural, and is in fact _super_-natural. So, too, while morality is

something more than prudence, religion, the spiritual life, is

something more than morality.

In vindicating the peculiar doctrines of the Christian system so

stated, and a faith in the reality of agencies and modes of being

essentially spiritual or supernatural, he aims to show their

consistency with reason and with the true principles of philosophy,

and that indeed, so far from being irrational, CHRISTIAN FAITH IS THE

PERFECTION OF HUMAN REASON. By reflection upon the subjective grounds

of knowledge and faith in the human mind itself, and by an analysis of

its faculties, he developes the distinguishing characteristics and

necessary relations of the natural and the spiritual in our modes of

being and knowing, and the all-important fact, that although the

former does not comprehend the latter, yet neither does it preclude

its existence. He proves, that "the scheme of Christianity, * * *

though not discoverable by human reason, is yet in accordance with it;

that link follows link by necessary consequence; that Religion passes

out of the ken of Reason only where the eye of Reason has reached its

own horizon--and that Faith is then but its continuation."[9] Instead

of adopting, like the popular metaphysicians of the day, a system of

philosophy at war with religion, and which tends inevitably to

undermine our belief in the reality of any thing spiritual in the only

proper sense of that word, and then coldly and ambiguously referring

us for the support of our faith to the authority of Revelation, he

boldly asserts the reality of something distinctively spiritual in

man, and the futility of all those modes of philosophizing, in which

this is not recognized, or which are incompatible with it. He

considers it the highest and most rational purpose of any system of

philosophy, at least of one professing to be Christian, to investigate

those higher and peculiar attributes, which distinguish us from the

brutes that perish--which are the image of God in us, and constitute

our proper humanity. It is in his view the proper business and the

duty of the Christian philosopher to remove all appearance of

contradiction between the several manifestations of the one Divine

Word, to reconcile reason with revelation, and thus to justify the

ways of God to man. The methods by which he accomplishes this, either

in regard to the terms in which he enunciates the great doctrines of

the Gospel, or the peculiar views of philosophy by which he reconciles

them with the subjective grounds of faith in the universal reason of

man, need not be stated here. I will merely observe, that the key to

his system will be found in the distinctions, which he makes and

illustrates between _nature_ and _free-will_, and between the

_understanding_ and _reason_. It may meet the prejudices of some to

remark farther, that in philosophizing on the grounds of our faith he

does not profess or aim to solve all mysteries, and to bring all truth

within the comprehension of the understanding. A truth may be

mysterious, and the primary ground of all truth and reality must be

so. But though we may believe what _passeth all understanding_, we

_cannot_ believe what is _absurd_, or contradictory to _reason_.

Whether the Work be well executed, according to the idea of it, as now

given, or whether the Author have accomplished his purpose, must be

determined by those who are capable of judging, when they shall have

examined and reflected upon the whole as it deserves. The inquiry

which I have now to propose to my readers is, whether the idea itself

be a rational one, and whether the purpose of the Author be one which

a wise man and a Christian ought to aim at, or which in the present

state of our religious interests, and of our theological science,

specially needs to be accomplished.

No one, who has had occasion to observe the general feelings and views

of our religious community for a few years past, can be ignorant, that

a strong prejudice exists against the introduction of philosophy, in

any form, in the discussion of theological subjects. The terms

_philosophy_ and _metaphysics_, even _reason_ and _rational_, seem, in

the minds of those most devoted to the support of religious truth, to

have forfeited their original, and to have acquired a new import,

especially in their relation to matters of faith. By a philosophical

view of religious truth would generally be understood a view, not only

varying from the religion of the Bible in the form and manner of

presenting it, but at war with it; and a rational religion is supposed

to be of course something diverse from revealed religion. A

philosophical and rational system of religious truth would by most

readers among us, if I mistake not, be supposed a system deriving its

doctrines not from revelation, but from the speculative reason of men,

or at least relying on that only for their credibility. That these

terms have been used to designate such systems, and that the prejudice

against reason and philosophy so employed is not, therefore, without

cause, I need not deny; nor would any friend of revealed truth be less

disposed to give credence to such systems, than the Author of the Work

before us.

But, on the other hand, a moment's reflection only can be necessary to

convince any man, attentive to the use of language, that we do at the

same time employ these terms in relation to truth generally in a

better and much higher sense. _Rational_, as contradistinguished from

_irrational_ and _absurd_, certainly denotes a quality, which every

man would be disposed to claim, not only for himself, but for his

religious opinions. Now, the adjective _reasonable_ having acquired a

different use and signification, the word _rational_ is the adjective

corresponding in sense to the substantive _reason_, and signifies

what is conformed to reason. In one sense, then, all men would appeal

to reason in behalf of their religious faith; they would deny that it

was irrational or absurd. If we do not in this sense adhere to reason,

we forfeit our prerogative as rational beings, and our faith is no

better than the bewildered dream of a man who has lost his reason.

Nay, I maintain that when we use the term in this higher sense, it is

impossible for us to believe on any authority what is directly

contradictory to reason and seen to be so. No evidence from another

source, and no authority could convince us, that a proposition in

geometry, for example, is false, which our reason intuitively

discovers to be true. Now if we suppose (and we may at least suppose

this,) that reason has the same power of intuitive insight in relation

to certain moral and spiritual truths, as in relation to the truths of

geometry, then it would be equally impossible to divest us of our

belief of those truths.

Furthermore, we are not only unable to believe the same proposition to

be false, which our reason sees to be true, but we cannot believe

another proposition, which by the exercise of the same rational

faculty we see to be incompatible with the former, or to contradict

it. We may, and probably often do, receive with a certain kind and

degree of credence opinions, which reflection would show to be

incompatible. But when we have reflected, and discovered the

inconsistency, we cannot retain both. We cannot believe two

contradictory propositions knowing them to be such. It would be

irrational to do so.

Again, we cannot conceive it possible, that what by the same power of

intuition we see to be universally and necessarily true should appear

otherwise to any other rational being. We cannot, for example, but

consider the propositions of geometry as necessarily true for all

rational beings. So, too, a little reflection, I think, will convince

any one, that we attribute the same necessity of reason to the

principles of moral rectitude. What in the clear daylight of our

reason, and after mature reflection, we see to be right, we cannot

believe to be wrong in the view of other rational beings in the

distinct exercise of their reason. Nay, in regard to those truths,

which are clearly submitted to the view of our reason, and which we

behold with distinct and steadfast intuitions, we necessarily

attribute to the Supreme Reason, to the Divine Mind, views the same,

or coincident, with those of our own reason. We cannot, (I say it with

reverence and I trust with some apprehension of the importance of the

assertion,) we _cannot_ believe that to be right in the view of the

Supreme Reason, which is clearly and decidedly wrong in the view of

our own. It would be contradictory to reason, it would be irrational,

to believe it, and therefore we cannot do so, till we lose our reason,

or cease to exercise it.

I would ask, now, whether this be not an authorized use of the words

reason and rational, and whether so used they do not mean something.

If it be so--and I appeal to the mind of every man capable of

reflection, and of under standing the use of language, if it be

not--then there is meaning in the terms _universal reason_, and _unity

of reason_, as used in this Work. There is, and can be, in this

highest sense of the word but one reason, and whatever contradicts

that reason, being seen to do so, cannot be received as matter either

of knowledge or faith. To reconcile religion with reason used in this

sense, therefore, and to justify the ways of God to man, or in the

view of reason, is so far from being irrational that reason

imperatively demands it of us. We cannot, as rational beings, believe

a proposition on the grounds of reason, and deny it on the authority

of revelation. We cannot believe a proposition in philosophy, and deny

the same proposition in theology; nor can we believe two incompatible

propositions on the different grounds of reason and revelation. So

far as we compare our thoughts, the objects of our knowledge and

faith, and by reflection refer them to their common measure in the

universal laws of reason, so far the instinct of reason impels us to

reject whatever is contradictory and absurd, and to bring unity and

consistency into all our views of truth. Thus, in the language of the

Author of this Work, though "the word _rational_ has been strangely

abused of late times, this must not disincline us to the weighty

consideration, that thoughtfulness, and a desire to rest all our

convictions on grounds of right reason, are inseparable from the

character of a Christian."[10]

But I beg the reader to observe, that in relation to the doctrines of

spiritual religion--to all that he considers the peculiar doctrines of

the Christian revelation, the Author assigns to reason only a negative

validity. It does not teach us what those doctrines are, or what they

are not, except that they are not, and cannot be, such as contradict

the clear convictions of right reason. But his views on this point are

fully stated in the Work.[11]

If then it be our prerogative, as rational beings, and our duty as

Christians, to think, as well as to act, _rationally_,--to see that

our convictions of truth rest on the grounds of right reason; and if

it be one of the clearest dictates of reason, that we should endeavour

to shun, and on discovery should reject, whatever is contradictory to

the universal laws of thought, or to doctrines already established, I

know not by what means we are to avoid the application of philosophy,

at least to some extent, in the study of theology. For to determine

what _are_ the grounds of right reason, what are those ultimate

truths, and those universal laws of thought, which we cannot

rationally contradict, and by reflection to compare with these

whatever is proposed for our belief, is in fact to philosophize; and

whoever does this to a greater or less extent, is so far a philosopher

in the best and highest sense of the word. To this extent we are bound

to philosophize in theology, as well as in every other science. For

what is not rational in theology, is, of course, irrational, and

cannot be of the household of faith; and to determine whether it be

rational in the sense already explained or not, is the province of

philosophy. It is in this sense that the Work before us is to be

considered a philosophical work, namely, that it proves the doctrines

of the Christian Faith to be rational, and exhibits philosophical

grounds for the _possibility_ of a truly spiritual religion. The

_reality_ of those experiences, or states of being, which constitute

experimental or spiritual religion, rests on other grounds. It is

incumbent on the philosopher to free them from the contradictions of

reason, and nothing more; and who will deny, that to do this is a

purpose worthy of the ablest philosopher and the most devoted

Christian? Is it not desirable to convince all men that the doctrines,

which we affirm to be revealed in the Gospel, are not contradictory to

the requirements of reason and conscience? Is it not, on the other

hand, vastly important to the cause of religious truth, and even to

the practical influence of religion on our own minds, and the minds of

the community at large, that we should attain and exhibit views of

philosophy and doctrines in metaphysics, which are at least compatible

with, if they do not specially favour, those views of religion, which,

on other grounds, we find it our duty to believe and maintain? For, I

beg it may be observed, as a point of great moment, that it is not the

method of the genuine philosopher to separate his philosophy and

religion, and adopting his principles independently in each, to leave

them to be reconciled or not, as the case may be. He has, and can

have, rationally but one system, in which his philosophy becomes

religious, and his religion philosophical. Nor am I disposed in

compliance with public opinion to limit the application of this

remark, as is usually done, to the mere external evidences of

revelation. The philosophy which we adopt will and must influence not

only our decision of the question, whether a book be of divine

authority, but our views also of its meaning.

But this is a subject, on which, if possible, I would avoid being

misunderstood, and must, therefore, exhibit it more fully, even at the

risk of repeating what was said before, or is elsewhere found in the

Work. It has been already, I believe, distinctly enough stated, that

reason and philosophy ought to prevent our reception of doctrines

claiming the authority of revelation only so far as the very

necessities of our rational being require. However mysterious the

thing affirmed may be, though _it passeth all understanding_, if it

cannot be shown to contradict the unchangeable principles of right

reason, its being incomprehensible to our understandings is not an

obstacle to our faith. If it contradict reason, we cannot believe it,

but must conclude, either that the writing is not of divine authority,

or that the language has been misinterpreted. So far it seems to me,

that our philosophy ought to modify our views of theological

doctrines, and our mode of interpreting the language of an inspired

writer. But then we must be cautious, that we philosophize rightly,

and "do not call _that_ reason which is not so." Otherwise we may be

led by the supposed requirements of reason to interpret

metaphorically, what ought to be received literally, and evacuate the

Scriptures of their most important doctrines. But what I mean to say

here is, that we cannot avoid the application of our philosophy in the

interpretation of the language of Scripture, and in the explanation of

the doctrines of religion generally. We cannot avoid incurring the

danger just alluded to of philosophizing erroneously, even to the

extent of rejecting as irrational that which tends to the perfection

of reason itself. And hence I maintain, that instead of pretending to

exclude philosophy from our religious inquiries, it is very important

that we philosophize in earnest--that we should endeavour by profound

reflection to learn the real requirements of reason, and attain a true

knowledge of ourselves.

If any dispute the necessity of thus combining the study of philosophy

with that of religion, I would beg them to point out the age since

that of the Apostles, in which the prevailing metaphysical opinions

have not distinctly manifested themselves in the prevailing views of

religion; and if, as I fully believe will be the case, they fail to

discover a single system of theology, a single volume on the subject

of the Christian religion, in which the author's views are not

modified by the metaphysical opinions of the age or of the individual,

it would be desirable to ascertain, whether this influence be

accidental or necessary. The metaphysician analyzes the faculties and

operations of the human mind, and teaches us to arrange, to classify,

and to name them, according to his views of their various

distinctions. The language of the Scriptures, at least to a great

extent, speaks of subjects that can be understood only by a reference

to those same powers and processes of thought and feeling, which we

have learned to think of, and to name, according to our particular

system of metaphysics. How is it possible then to avoid interpreting

the one by the other? Let us suppose, for example, that a man has

studied and adopted the philosophy of Brown, is it possible for him to

interpret the 8th chapter of Romans, without having his views of its

meaning influenced by his philosophy? Would he not unavoidably

interpret the language and explain the doctrines, which it contains,

differently from one, who should have adopted such views of the human

mind as are taught in this Work? I know it is customary to disclaim

the influence of philosophy in the business of interpretation, and

every writer now-a-days on such subjects will assure us, that he has

nothing to do with metaphysics, but is guided only by common sense and

the laws of interpretation. But I should like to know how a man comes

by any common sense in relation to the movements and laws of his

intellectual and moral being without metaphysics. What is the common

sense of a Hottentot on subjects of this sort? I have no hesitation in

saying, that from the very nature of the case, it is nearly, if not

quite, impossible for any man entirely to separate his philosophical

views of the human mind from his reflections on religious subjects.

Probably no man has endeavoured more faithfully to do this, perhaps no

one has succeeded better in giving the truth of Scripture free from

the glosses of metaphysics, than Professor Stuart. Yet, I should risk

little in saying that a reader deeply versed in the language of

metaphysics, extensively acquainted with the philosophy of different

ages, and the peculiar phraseology of different schools, might

ascertain his metaphysical system from many a passage of his

Commentary on the Epistle to the Hebrews. What then, let me ask, is

the possible use to the cause of truth and of religion, from thus

perpetually decrying philosophy in theological inquiries, when we

cannot avoid it if we would? Every man, who has reflected at all, has

his metaphysics; and if he reads on religious subjects, he interprets

and understands the language which he employs, by the help of his

metaphysics. He cannot do otherwise.--And the proper inquiry is, not

whether we admit our philosophy into our theological and religious

investigations, but whether our philosophy be right and true. For

myself, I am fully convinced that we can have no right views of

theology, till we have right views of the human mind; and that these

are to be acquired only by laborious and persevering reflection. My

belief is, that the distinctions unfolded in this Work will place us

in the way to truth, and relieve us from numerous perplexities, in

which we are involved by the philosophy which we have so long taken

for our guide. For we are greatly deceived, if we suppose for a moment

that the systems of theology which have been received among us, or

even the theoretical views which are now most popular, are free from

the entanglements of worldly wisdom. The readers of this Work will be

able to see, I think, more clearly the import of this remark, and the

true bearing of the received views of philosophy on our theological

inquiries. Those who study the Work without prejudice, and adopt its

principles to any considerable extent, will understand too how deeply

an age may be ensnared in the metaphysical webs of its own weaving, or

entangled in the net which the speculations of a former generation

have thrown over it, and yet suppose itself blessed with a perfect

immunity from the dreaded evils of metaphysics.

But before I proceed to remark on those particulars, in which our

prevailing philosophy seems to be dangerous in its tendency, and

unfriendly to the cause of spiritual religion, I must beg leave to

guard myself and the Work from misapprehension on another point of

great importance in its relation to the whole subject. While it is

maintained that reason and philosophy, in their true character,

_ought_ to have a certain degree and extent of influence in the

formation of our religious system, and that our metaphysical opinions,

whatever they may be, _will_ almost unavoidably, modify more or less

our theoretical views of religious truth _generally_, it is yet a

special object of the Author of the Work to show that the spiritual

life, or what among us is termed experimental religion, is, in itself,

and in its own proper growth and development, essentially distinct

from the forms and processes of the understanding; and that, although

a true faith cannot contradict any universal principle of speculative

reason, it is yet in a certain sense independent of the discursions

of philosophy, and in its proper nature beyond the reach "of positive

science and theoretical _insight_." "Christianity is not a _theory_ or

a _speculation_; but a _life_. Not a _philosophy_ of life, but a life

and a living process." It is not, therefore, so properly a species of

knowledge, as a form of being. And although the theoretical views of

the understanding, and the motives of prudence which it presents, may

be, to a certain extent, connected with the development of the

spiritual principle of religious life in the Christian, yet a true and

living faith is not incompatible with at least some degree of

speculative error. As the acquisition of merely speculative knowledge

cannot of itself communicate the principle of spiritual life, so

neither does that principle, and the living process of its growth,

depend wholly, at least, upon the degree of speculative knowledge with

which it co-exists. That religion, of which our blessed Saviour is

himself the essential Form and the living Word, and to which he

imparts the actuating Spirit, has a principle of unity and consistency

in itself distinct from the unity and consistency of our theoretical

views. Of this we have evidence in every day's observation of

Christian character; for how often do we see and acknowledge the power

of religion, and the growth of a spiritual life in minds but little

gifted with speculative knowledge, and little versed in the forms of

logic or philosophy! How obviously, too, does the living principle of

religion manifest the same specific character, the same essential

form, amidst all the diversities of condition, of talents, of

education, and natural disposition, with which it is associated; every

where rising above nature, and the powers of the natural man, and

unlimited in its goings on by the forms in which the understanding

seeks to comprehend and confine its spiritual energies. _There are

diversities of gifts, but the same Spirit_: and it is no less true now

than in the age of the Apostles, that in all lands, and in every

variety of circumstances, the manifestations of spiritual life are

essentially the same; and all who truly believe in heart, however

diverse in natural condition, in the character of their

understandings, and even in their theoretical views of truth, are

_one_ in _Christ Jesus_. The essential faith is not to be found in the

understanding or the speculative theory, but "the _life_, the

_substance_, the _hope_, the _love_--in one word, the _faith_--these

are derivatives from the practical, moral, and spiritual nature and

being of man." Speculative systems of theology indeed have often had

little connection with the essential spirit of religion, and are

usually little more than schemes resulting from the strivings of the

finite understanding to comprehend and exhibit under its own forms and

conditions a mode of being and spiritual truths essentially diverse

from their proper objects, and with which they are incommensurate.

This I am aware is an imperfect, and I fear may be an unintelligible,

view of a subject exceedingly difficult of apprehension at the best.

If so, I must beg the reader's indulgence, and request him to suspend

his judgment, as to the absolute intelligibility of it, till he

becomes acquainted with the language and sentiments of the Work

itself. It will, however, I hope, be so far understood, at least, as

to answer the purpose for which it was introduced--of precluding the

supposition that, in the remarks which preceded, or in those which

follow, any suspicion was intended to be expressed, with regard to the

religious principles or the essential faith of those who hold the

opinions in question. According to this view of the inherent and

essential nature of Spiritual Religion, as existing in the _practical

reason_ of man, we may not only admit, but can better understand the

possibility of what every charitable Christian will acknowledge to be

a fact, so far as human observation can determine facts of this

sort--that a man may be truly religious, and essentially a believer at

heart, while his understanding is sadly bewildered with the attempt

to comprehend and express philosophically, what yet he feels and knows

spiritually. It is indeed impossible for us to tell, how far the

understanding may impose upon itself by partial views and false

disguises, without perverting the will, or estranging it from the laws

and the authority of reason and the divine word. We cannot say to what

extent a false system of philosophy and metaphysical opinions, which

in their natural and uncounteracted tendency would go to destroy all

religion, may be received in a Christian community, and yet the power

of spiritual religion retain its hold and its efficacy in the hearts

of the people. We may perhaps believe that in opposition to all the

might of false philosophy, so long as the great body of the people

have the Bible in their hands, and are taught to reverence and receive

its heavenly instructions, though the Church may suffer injury from

unwise and unfruitful speculations, it will yet be preserved; and that

the spiritual seed of the divine word, though mingled with many tares

of worldly wisdom and philosophy falsely so called, will yet spring

up, and bear fruit unto everlasting life.

But though we may hope and believe this, we cannot avoid believing, at

the same time, that injury must result from an unsuspecting confidence

in metaphysical opinions, which are essentially at variance with the

doctrines of Revelation. Especially must the effect be injurious,

where those opinions lead gradually to alter our views of religion

itself and of all that is peculiar in the Christian system. The great

mass of the community, who know little of metaphysics, and whose faith

in Revelation is not so readily influenced by speculations not

immediately connected with it, may, indeed, for a time, escape the

evil, and continue to _receive with meekness the ingrafted word_. But

in the minds of the better educated, especially those who think and

follow out their conclusions with resolute independence of thought,

the result must be either a loss of confidence in the opinions

themselves, or a rejection of all those parts of the Christian system

which are at variance with them. Under particular circumstances,

indeed, where both the metaphysical errors, and the great doctrines of

the Christian Faith, have a strong hold upon the minds of a community,

a protracted struggle may take place, and earnest and long-continued

efforts may be made to reconcile opinions which we are resolved to

maintain, with a faith which our consciences will not permit us to

abandon. But so long as the effort continues and such opinions retain

their hold upon our confidence, it must be by some diminution of the

fulness and simplicity of our faith. To a greater or less degree,

according to the education and habits of thought in different

individuals, the word of God is received with doubt, or with such

glozing modifications as enervate its power. Thus the light from

heaven is intercepted, and we are left to a shadow-fight of

metaphysical schemes and metaphorical interpretations. While one

party, with conscientious and earnest endeavours, and at great expense

of talent and ingenuity, contends for the Faith, and among the

possible shapings of the received metaphysical system, seeks that

which will best comport with the simplicity of the Gospel,--another

more boldly interprets the language of the Gospel itself in conformity

with those views of religion to which their philosophy seems obviously

to conduct them. The substantial being and the living energy of the

WORD, which is not only the light but the life of men, is either

misapprehended or denied by all parties: and even those who contend

for what they conceive the literal import of the Gospel, do it--as

they must, to avoid too glaring absurdity--with such explanations of

its import as make it to become, in no small degree, the _words of

man's wisdom_, rather than a simple _demonstration of the Spirit, and

of power_. Hence, although such as have experienced the spiritual and

life-giving power of the Divine Word, may be able, through the

promised aids of the Spirit, to overcome the natural tendency of

speculative error, and, by _the law of the Spirit of life_ which is in

them, may at length be made _free from the law of sin and death_, yet

who can tell how much they may lose of the blessings of the Gospel,

and be retarded in their spiritual growth when they are but too often

fed with the lifeless and starveling products of the human

understanding, instead of that _living bread which came down from

heaven_? Who can tell, moreover, how many, through the prevalence of

such philosophical errors as lead to misconceptions of the truth or

create a prejudice against it, and thus tend to intercept the light

from heaven, may continue in their ignorance, _alienated from the life

of God_, and groping in the darkness of their own understandings?

But however that may be, enlightened Christians, and especially

Christian instructors, know it to be their duty, as far as possible,

to prepare the way for the full and unobstructed influence of the

Gospel, to do all in their power to remove those natural prejudices,

and those errors of the understanding, which are obstacles to the

truth, that the word of God may find access to the heart, and

conscience, and reason of every man, that it may have _free course,

and run, and be glorified_. My own belief, that such obstacles to the

influence of truth exist in the speculative and metaphysical opinions

generally adopted in this country, and that the present Work is in

some measure at least calculated to remove them, is pretty clearly

indicated by the remarks which I have already made. But, to be

perfectly explicit on the subject I do not hesitate to express my

conviction, that the natural tendency of some of the leading

principles of our prevailing system of metaphysics, and those which

must unavoidably have more or less influence on our theoretical views

of religion, are of an injurious and dangerous tendency, and that so

long as we retain them, however we may profess to exclude their

influence from our theological inquiries, and from the interpretation

of Scripture, we can maintain no consistent system of Scriptural

theology, nor clearly and distinctly apprehend the spiritual import of

the Scripture language. The grounds of this conviction I shall proceed

to exhibit, though only in a partial manner, as I could not do more

without anticipating the contents of the Work itself, instead of

merely preparing the reader to peruse them with attention. I am aware,

too, that some of the language, which I have already employed, and

shall be obliged to employ, will not convey its full import to the

reader, till he becomes acquainted with some of the leading principles

and distinctions unfolded in the Work. But this also is an evil which

I saw no means of avoiding without incurring a greater, and writing a

book instead of a brief essay.

Let it be understood, then, without further preface, that by the

prevailing system of metaphysics, I mean the system, of which in

modern times Locke is the reputed author, and the leading principles

of which, with various modifications, more or less important, but not

altering its essential character, have been almost universally

received in this country. It should be observed, too, that the causes

enumerated by the Author, as having elevated it to its "pride of

place" in Europe, have been aided by other favouring circumstances

here. In the minds of our religious community, especially, some of its

most important doctrines have become associated with names justly

loved and revered among ourselves, and so connected with all our

theoretical views of religion, that a man can hardly hope to question

their validity without hazarding his reputation, not only for

orthodoxy, but even for common sense. To controvert, for example, the

prevailing doctrines with regard to the freedom of the will, the

sources of our knowledge, the nature of the understanding as

containing the controlling principles of our whole being, and the

universality of the law of cause and effect, even in connection with

the argument and the authority of the most powerful intellect of the

age, may even now be worse than in vain. Yet I have reasons for

believing there are some among us, and that their number is fast

increasing, who are willing to revise their opinions on these

subjects, and who will contemplate the views presented in this Work

with a liberal, and something of a prepared feeling, of curiosity. The

difficulties in which men find themselves involved by the received

doctrines on these subjects, in their most anxious efforts to explain

and defend the peculiar doctrines of spiritual religion, have led many

to suspect that there must be some lurking error in the premises. It

is not that these principles lead us to mysteries which we cannot

comprehend; they are found, or believed at least by many, to involve

us in absurdities which we can comprehend. It is necessary indeed only

to form some notion of the distinctive and appropriate import of the

term spiritual, as opposed to natural in the New Testament, and then

to look at the writings, or hear the discussions, in which the

doctrines of the Spirit and of spiritual influences are taught and

defended, to see the insurmountable nature of the obstacles, which

these metaphysical dogmas throw in the way of the most powerful minds.

To those who shall read this Work with any degree of reflection, it

must, I think, be obvious, that something more is implied in the

continual opposition of these terms in the New Testament, than can be

explained consistently with the prevailing opinions on the subjects

above enumerated; and that through their influence our highest notions

of that distinction have been rendered confused, contradictory, and

inadequate. I have already directed the attention of the reader to

those parts of the Work, where this distinction is unfolded; and had I

no other grounds than the arguments and views there exhibited, I

should be convinced that so long as we hold the doctrines of Locke and

the Scotch metaphysicians respecting power, cause and effect, motives,

and the freedom of the will, we not only can make and defend no

essential distinction between that which is _natural_, and that which

is _spiritual_, but we cannot even find rational grounds for the

feeling of _moral obligation_, and the distinction between _regret_

and _remorse_.

According to the system of these authors, as nearly and distinctly as

my limits will permit me to state it, the same law of cause and effect

is the law of the universe. It extends to the moral and spiritual--if

in courtesy these terms may still be used--no less than to the

properly natural powers and agencies of our being. The acts of the

free-will are pre-determined by a cause _out of the will_, according

to the same law of cause and effect which controls the changes in the

physical world. We have no notion of power but uniformity of

antecedent and consequent. The notion of a power in the will to act

freely is therefore nothing more than an inherent capacity of being

acted upon, agreeably to its nature, and according to a fixed law, by

the motives which are present in the understanding. I feel authorized

to take this statement partly from Brown's Philosophy, because that

work has been decidedly approved by our highest theological

authorities; and indeed it would not be essentially varied, if

expressed in the precise terms used by any of the writers most usually

quoted in reference to these subjects.

I am aware that variations may be found in the mode of stating these

doctrines, but I think every candid reader, who is acquainted with the

metaphysics and theology of this country, will admit the above to be a

fair representation of the form in which they are generally received.

I am aware, too, that much has been said and written to make out,

consistently with these general principles, a distinction between

natural and moral causes, natural and moral ability, and inability,

and the like. But I beg all lovers of sound and rational philosophy to

look carefully at the general principles, and see whether there be, in

fact, ground left for any such distinctions of this kind as are worth

contending for. My first step in arguing with a defender of these

principles, and of the distinctions in question, as connected with

them, would be to ask for his definition of nature and _natural_. And

when he had arrived at a distinctive general notion of the import of

these, it would appear, if I mistake not, that he had first subjected

our whole being to the law of nature, and then contended for the

existence of something which is not nature. For in their relation to

the law of moral rectitude, and to the feeling of moral

responsibility, what difference is there, and what difference can

there be, between what are called natural and those which are called

moral powers and affections, if they are all under the control of the

same universal _law_ of cause and effect? If it still be a mere

nature, and the determinations of our will be controlled by causes out

of the will, according to our nature, then I maintain that a moral

nature has no more to do with the feeling of responsibility than any

other nature.

Perhaps the difficulty may be made more obvious in this way. It will

be admitted that brutes are possessed of various natures, some

innocent or useful, otherwise noxious, but all alike irresponsible in

a moral point of view. But why? Simply because they act in accordance

with their natures. They possess, each according to its proper nature,

certain appetites and susceptibilities which are stimulated and acted

upon by their appropriate objects in the world of the senses; and the

relation--the law of action and reaction--subsisting between these

specific susceptibilities and their corresponding outward objects,

constitutes their nature. They have a power of selecting and choosing

in the world of sense the objects appropriate to the wants of their

nature; but that nature is the sole law of their being. Their power of

choice is but a part of it, instrumental in accomplishing its ends,

but not capable of rising above it, of controlling its impulses, and

of determining itself with reference to a purely ideal law, distinct

from their nature. They act in accordance with the law of cause and

effect, which constitutes their several natures, and cannot do

otherwise. They are, therefore not responsible--not capable of guilt,

or of remorse.

Now let us suppose another being, possessing, in addition to the

susceptibilities of the brute, certain other specific susceptibilities

with their correlative objects, either in the sensible world, or in a

future world, but that these are subjected, like the other, to the

same binding and inalienable law of cause and effect. What, I ask, is

the amount of the difference thus supposed between this being and the

brute? The supposed addition, it is to be understood, is merely an

addition to its nature; and the only power of will belonging to it is,

as in the case of the brute, only a capacity of choosing and acting

uniformly in accordance with its nature. These additional

susceptibilities still act but as they are acted upon; and the will is

determined accordingly. What advantage is gained in this case by

calling these supposed additions moral affections, and their

correlative stimulants moral causes? Do we thereby find any rational

ground for the feeling of moral responsibility, for conscience, for

remorse? The being acts according to its nature, and why is it

blameworthy more than the brute? If the moral law existing out of the

will be a power or cause which, in its relation to the specific

susceptibility of the moral being, produces under the same

circumstances uniformly the same result, according to the law of cause

and effect; if the acts of the will be subject to the same law, as

mere links in the chain of antecedents and consequents, and thus a

part of our nature, what is gained, I ask again, by the distinction of

a moral and a physical nature? It is still only a nature under the law

of cause and effect, and the liberty of the moral being is under the

same condition with the liberty of the brute. Both are free to follow

and fulfil the law of their nature, and both are alike bound by that

law, as by an adamantine chain. The very conditions of the law

preclude the possibility of a power to act otherwise than according to

their nature. They preclude the very idea of a free-will, and render

the feeling of moral responsibility not an enigma merely, not a

mystery, but a self-contradiction and an absurdity.

Turn the matter as we will--call these correlatives, namely, the

inherent susceptibilities and the causes acting on them from without,

natural, or moral, or spiritual--so long as their action and reaction,

or the law of reciprocity, which constitutes their specific natures,

is considered as the controlling law of our whole being, so long as we

refuse to admit the existence in the will of a power capable of rising

above this law, and controlling its operation by an act of absolute

self-determination, so long we shall be involved in perplexities both

in morals and religion. At all events, the only method of avoiding

them will be to adopt the creed of the Necessitarians entire, to give

man over to an irresponsible nature as a better sort of animal, and

resolve the will of the Supreme Reason into a blind and irrational

Fate.

I am well aware of the objections that will be made to this statement,

and especially the demonstrated incomprehensibleness of a

self-determining power. To this I may be permitted to answer, that,

admitting the power to originate an act or state of mind may be beyond

the capacity of our understandings to comprehend, it is still not

contradictory to reason; and that I find it more easy to believe the

existence of that which is simply incomprehensible to my

understanding, than of that which involves an absurdity for my

reason. I venture to affirm, moreover, that however we may bring our

understandings into bondage to the more comprehensible doctrine,

simply because it is comprehensible under the forms of the

understanding, every man does, in fact, believe himself possessed of

freedom in the higher sense of self-determination. Every man's

conscience commands him to believe it, as the only rational ground of

moral responsibility. Every man's conscience, too, betrays the fact

that he does believe it, whenever for a moment he indulges the feeling

either of moral self-approbation, or of remorse. Nor can we on any

other grounds justify the ways of God to man upon the supposition that

he inflicts or will inflict any other punishment than that which is

simply remedial or disciplinary. But this subject will be found more

fully explained in the course of the Work. My present object is merely

to show the necessity of some system in relation to these subjects

different from the received one.

It may perhaps be thought, that the language used above is too strong

and too positive. But I venture to ask every candid man, at least

every one who has not committed himself by writing and publishing on

the subject, whether in considering the great questions connected with

moral accountability and the doctrine of rewards and punishments, he

has not felt himself pressed with such difficulties as those above

stated; and whether he has ever been able fully to satisfy his reason,

that there was not a lurking contradiction in the idea of a being

created and placed under the law of its nature, and possessing at the

same time a feeling of moral obligation to fulfil a law above its

nature. That many have been in this state of mind I know. I know, too,

that some whose moral and religious feelings had led them to a full

belief in the doctrines of spiritual religion, but who at the same

time had been taught to receive the prevailing opinions in

metaphysics, have found these opinions carrying them unavoidably, if

they would be consequent in their reasonings, and not do violence to

their reason, to adopt a system of religion which does not profess to

be spiritual, and thus have been compelled to choose between their

philosophy and their religion. In most cases indeed, where men reflect

at all, I am satisfied that it requires all the force of authority,

and all the influence of education, to carry the mind over these

difficulties; and that then it is only by a vague belief that, though

we cannot see how, there must be some method of reconciling what seems

to be so contradictory.

If examples were wanting to prove that serious and trying difficulties

are felt to exist here, enough may be found, as it has appeared to me,

in the controversy respecting the nature and origin of sin, which is

at this moment interesting the public mind. Let any impartial observer

trace the progress of that discussion, and after examining the

distinctions which are made or attempted to be made, decide whether

the subject, as there presented, be not involved in difficulties,

which cannot be solved on the principles to which, hitherto, both

parties have adhered; whether, holding as they do the same premises in

regard to the freedom of the will, they can avoid coming to the same

conclusion in regard to the nature and origin of sin; whether in fact

the distinctions aimed at must not prove merely verbal distinctions,

and the controversy a fruitless one. But in the September number of

the "Christian Spectator" for 1829,[12] the reader will find remarks

on this subject, to which I beg leave to refer him, and which I could

wish him attentively to consider in connection with the remarks which

I have made. I allude to the correspondence with the editors near the

end of the number. The letter there inserted is said to be, and

obviously is, from the pen of a very learned and able writer; and I

confess it has been no small gratification and encouragement to me,

while labouring to bring this Work and this subject before the public,

to find such a state of feeling expressed, concerning the great

question at issue, by such a writer. It will be seen by reference to

p. 545 of the C. S., that he places the "_nucleus_ of the dispute"

just where it is placed in this Work and in the above remarks. It will

be seen, too, that by throwing authorities aside, and studying his own

mind, he has "come seriously to doubt," whether the received opinions

with regard to _motives_, the law of _cause and effect_, and the

_freedom of the will_, may not be erroneous. They appear to him "to be

bordering on fatalism, if not actually embracing it." He doubts

whether the mind may not have within itself the adequate cause of its

own acts; whether indeed it have not a self-determining power, "for

the power in question involves the idea of originating volition. Less

than this it cannot be conceived to involve, and yet be _free_

agency." Now, this is just the view offered in the present Work; and,

as it seems to me, these are just the doubts and conclusions which

every one will entertain, who lays aside authority, and reflects upon

the goings-on of his own mind, and the dictates of his own reason and

conscience.

But let us look for a moment at the remarks of the editors in reply to

the letter above quoted. They maintain, in relation to original sin

and the perversion of the will, that from either the _original_ or the

_acquired_ strength of certain natural appetites, principles of

self-love, &c., "left to themselves," the corruption of the heart will

certainly follow. "In every instance the will does, in fact, yield to

the demands of these. But whenever it thus yielded, _there was power

to the contrary_; otherwise there could be no freedom of moral

action." Now I beg leave to place my finger on the phrase in italics,

and ask the editors what they mean by it. If they hold the common

doctrines with regard to the relation of cause and effect, and with

regard to power as connected with that relation, and apply these to

the acts of the will, I can see no more possibility of conceiving a

_power to the contrary_ in this case, than of conceiving such a power

in the current of a river. But if they mean to assert the existence in

the will of an _actual_ power to rise above the demands of appetite,

&c., above the law of nature and to decide _arbitrarily_, whether to

yield or not to yield, then they admit that the will is not determined

_absolutely_ by the extraneous _cause_, but is in fact _self_-determined.

They agree with the letter-writer; and the question for them is at

rest. Thus, whatever distinctions may be attempted here, there can be

no real distinction but between an irresponsible nature and a will

that is self-determined.

I cannot but be aware, that the views of the Will here exhibited will

meet with strong prejudices in a large portion, at least, of our

religious community. I could wish that all such would carefully

distinguish between the Author's views of the doctrines of religion

and the philosophical grounds on which he supposes those doctrines are

to be defended. If no one disputes, and I trust no one will dispute,

the substantial orthodoxy of the Work, without first carefully

examining what has been the orthodoxy of the church in general, and of

the great body of the Reformers, then I should hope it may be wisely

considered, whether, as a question of philosophy, the metaphysical

principles of this Work are not in themselves more in accordance with

the doctrines of a spiritual religion, and better suited to their

explanation and defence, than those above treated of. If on

examination it cannot be disputed that they are, then, if not before,

I trust the two systems may be compared without undue partiality, and

the simple question of the truth of each may be determined by that

calm and persevering reflection, which alone can determine questions

of this sort.

If the system here taught be true, then it will follow, not, be it

observed, that our religion is necessarily wrong, or our essential

faith erroneous, but that the _philosophical grounds_, on which we are

accustomed to defend our faith, are unsafe, and that their _natural

tendency_ is to error. If the spirit of the Gospel still exert its

influence; if a truly spiritual religion be maintained, it is in

_opposition_ to our philosophy, and not at all by its aid. I know it

will be said, that the practical results of our peculiar forms of

doctrine are at variance with these remarks. But this I am not

prepared to admit. True, religion and religious institutions have

flourished; the Gospel, in many parts of our country, has been

affectionately and faithfully preached by great and good men; the word

and the Spirit of God have been communicated to us in rich abundance;

and I rejoice with heartfelt joy and thanksgiving, in the belief, that

thereby multitudes have been regenerated to a new and spiritual life.

But so were equal or greater effects produced under the preaching of

Baxter, and Howe, and other good and faithful men of the same age,

with none of the peculiarities of our theological systems. Neither

reason nor experience indeed furnish any ground for believing that the

living and life-giving power of the Divine Word has ever derived any

portion of its efficacy, in the conversion of the heart to God, from

the forms of metaphysical theology, with which the human understanding

has invested it. It requires, moreover, but little knowledge of the

history of philosophy, and of the writings of the 16th and 17th

centuries to know, that the opinions of the Reformers, and of all the

great divines of that period, on subjects of this sort, were far

different from those of Mr. Locke and his followers, and were in fact

essentially the same with those taught in this Work. This last remark

applies not only to the views entertained by the eminent philosophers

and divines of that period on the particular subject above discussed,

but to the distinctions made, and the language employed, by them with

reference to other points of no less importance in the constitution of

our being.

It must have been observed by the reader of the foregoing pages, that

I have used several words, especially _understanding_ and _reason_, in

a sense somewhat diverse from their present acceptation; and the

occasion of this I suppose would be partly understood from my having

already directed the attention of the reader to the distinction

exhibited between these words in the Work, and from the remarks made

on the ambiguity of the word "reason" in its common use. I now proceed

to remark, that the ambiguity spoken of, and the consequent perplexity

in regard to the use and authority of reason, have arisen from the

habit of using, since the time of Locke, the terms understanding and

reason indiscriminately, and thus confounding a distinction clearly

marked in the philosophy and in the language of the older writers.

Alas! had the _terms_ only been confounded, or had we suffered only an

inconvenient ambiguity of language, there would be comparatively

little cause for earnestness upon the subject; or had our views of the

things signified by these terms been only partially confused, and had

we still retained correct notions of our prerogative, as rational and

spiritual beings, the consequences might have been less deplorable.

But the misfortune is, that the powers of understanding and reason

have not merely been blended and confounded in the view of our

philosophy, the higher and far more characteristic, as an essential

constituent of our proper humanity, has been as it were obscured and

hidden from our observation in the inferior power, which belongs to

us in common with the brutes which perish. According to the old, the

more spiritual, and genuine philosophy, the distinguishing attributes

of our humanity--that _image_ of God in which man alone was created of

all the dwellers upon earth, and in virtue of which he was placed at

the head of this lower world, was said to be found in the _reason_ and

_free-will_. But understanding these in their strict and proper sense,

and according to the true _ideas_ of them, as contemplated by the

older metaphysicians, we have literally, if the system of Locke and

the popular philosophy of the day be true, neither the one nor the

other of these--neither reason nor free-will. What they esteemed the

image of God in the soul, and considered as distinguishing us

specifically, and so vastly too, above each and all of the irrational

animals, is found, according to this system, to have in fact no real

existence. The reality neither of the free-will, nor of any of those

laws or ideas, which spring from, or rather constitute reason, can be

authenticated by the sort of proof which is demanded, and we must

therefore relinquish our prerogative, and take our place with becoming

humility among our more unpretending companions. In the ascending

series of powers, enumerated by Milton, with so much philosophical

truth, as well as beauty of language, in the fifth book of Paradise

Lost, he mentions

_Fancy_ and _understanding_, whence the soul

REASON receives. And reason is her _being_,

Discursive or intuitive.

But the highest power here, that which is the being of the soul,

considered as any thing differing in kind from the understanding, has

no place in our popular metaphysics. Thus we have only the

_understanding_, "the faculty judging according to sense," a faculty

of abstracting and generalizing, of contrivance and forecast, as the

highest of our intellectual powers; and this, we are expressly

taught, belongs to us in common with brutes. Nay, these views of our

essential being, consequences and all, are adopted by men, whom one

would suppose religion, if not philosophy, should have taught their

utter inadequateness to the true and essential constituents of our

humanity. Dr. Paley tells us in his Natural Theology, that only

"CONTRIVANCE," a power obviously and confessedly belonging to brutes,

is necessary to constitute _personality_. His whole system both of

theology and morals neither teaches, nor implies, the existence of any

specific difference either between the understanding and reason, or

between nature and the will. It does not imply the existence of any

power in man, which does not obviously belong, in a greater or less

degree, to irrational animals. Dr. Fleming, another reverend prelate

in the English Church, in his "Philosophy of Zoology," maintains in

express terms that we have no faculties differing in kind from those

which belong to brutes. How many other learned, and reverend, and wise

men adopt the same opinions, I know not: though these are obviously

not the peculiar views of the individuals, but conclusions resulting

from the essential principles of their system. If, then, there is no

better _system_, if this be the genuine philosophy, and founded in the

nature of things, there is no help for us, and we must believe it--_if

we can_. But most certainly it will follow, that we ought, as fast as

the prejudices of education will permit, to rid ourselves of certain

notions of prerogative, and certain feelings of our own superiority,

which somehow have been strangely prevalent among our race. For though

we have indeed, according to this system, a little _more_

understanding than other animals--can abstract and generalize and

forecast events, and the consequences of our actions, and compare

motives _more_ skilfully than they: though we have thus _more_

knowledge and can circumvent them; though we have _more_ power and can

subdue them; yet, as to any _distinctive_ and _peculiar_

characteristic--as to any inherent and essential _worth_, we are after

all but little better--though we may be better off--than our dogs and

horses. There is no essential difference, and we may rationally

doubt--at least we might do so, if by the supposition we were rational

beings--whether our fellow animals of the kennel and the stall are not

unjustly deprived of certain _personal rights_, and whether a dog

charged with trespass may not _rationally_ claim to be tried by a jury

of his _peers_. Now however trifling and ridiculous this may appear, I

would ask in truth and soberness, if it be not a fair and legitimate

inference from the premises, and whether the _absurdity_ of the one

does not _demonstrate_ the utter falsity of the other. And where, I

would beg to know, shall we look, according to the popular system of

philosophy, for that _image of God_ in which we are created? Is it a

thing of _degrees_? And is it simply because we have something _more_

of the same faculties which belong to brutes, that we become the

objects of God's special and fatherly care, the _distinguished_

objects of his Providence, and the _sole_ objects of his Grace?--_Doth

God take care for oxen?_ But why not?

I assure my readers, that I have no desire to treat with disrespect

and contumely the opinions of great or good men; but the distinction

in question, and the assertion and exhibition of the higher

prerogatives of reason, as an essential constituent of our being, are

so vitally important, in my apprehension, to the formation and support

of any rational system of philosophy, and--no less than the

distinction before treated of--so pregnant of consequences to the

interests of truth, in morals, and religion, and indeed of all truth,

that mere opinion and the authority of names may well be disregarded.

The discussion, moreover, relates to facts, and to such facts, too, as

are not to be learned from the instruction, or received on the

authority, of any man. They must be ascertained by every man for

himself, by reflection upon the processes and laws of his own inward

being, or they are not learned at all to any valuable purpose. We do

indeed find in ourselves then, as no one will deny, certain powers of

intelligence, which we have abundant reason to believe the brutes

possess in common with us in a greater or less degree. The functions

of the understanding, as treated of in the popular systems of

metaphysics, its faculties of attention, of abstraction, of

generalization, the power of forethought and contrivance, of adapting

means to ends, and the law of association, may be, so far as we can

judge, severally represented more or less adequately in the

instinctive intelligence of the higher orders of brutes. But, not to

anticipate too far a topic treated of in the Work, do these, or any

and all the faculties which we discover in irrational animals,

satisfactorily account to a reflecting mind for all the _phenomena_

which are presented to our observation in our own consciousness? Would

any supposable addition to the _degree_ merely of those powers which

we ascribe to brutes, render them _rational_ beings, and remove the

sacred distinction, which law and reason have sanctioned, between

things and persons? Will any such addition account for our

having--what the brute is not supposed to have--the pure _ideas_ of

the geometrician, the power of ideal construction, the intuition of

geometrical or other necessary and universal truths? Would it give

rise, in irrational animals, to a _law of moral rectitude_ and _to

conscience_--to the feelings of moral _responsibility_ and _remorse_?

Would it awaken them to a reflective self-consciousness, and lead them

to form and contemplate the _ideas_ of the _soul_, of _free-will_, of

_immortality_, and of God. It seems to me, that we have only to

reflect for a serious hour upon what we mean by these, and then to

compare them with our notion of what belongs to a brute, its inherent

powers and their correlative objects, to feel that they are utterly

incompatible--that in the possession of these we enjoy a prerogative

which we cannot disclaim without a violation of reason, and a

voluntary abasement of ourselves--and that we must therefore be

possessed of some _peculiar_ powers--of some source of ideas

_distinct_ from the understanding, differing _in kind_ from any and

all of those which belong to us in common with inferior and irrational

animals.

But what these powers are, or what is the precise nature of the

distinction between the understanding and reason, it is not my

province, nor have I undertaken, to show. My object is merely to

illustrate its necessity, and the palpable obscurity, vagueness, and

deficiency, in this respect, of the mode of philosophizing, which is

held in so high honour among us. The distinction itself will be found

illustrated with some of its important bearings in the Work, and in

the notes attached to it; and cannot be too carefully studied--in

connection with that between nature and the will--by the student who

would acquire distinct and intelligible notions of what constitutes

the truly spiritual in our being, or find rational grounds for the

possibility of a truly spiritual religion. Indeed, could I succeed in

fixing the attention of the reader upon this distinction, in such a

way as to secure his candid and reflecting perusal of the Work, I

should consider any personal effort or sacrifice abundantly

recompensed. Nor am I alone in this view of its importance. A literary

friend, whose opinion on this subject would be valued by all who knew

the soundness of his scholarship, says in a letter just now

received,--"if you can once get the attention of thinking men fixed on

his distinction between the reason and the understanding, you will

have done enough to reward the labour of a life. As prominent a place

as it holds in the writings of Coleridge, he seems to me far enough

from making too much of it." No person of serious and philosophical

mind, I am confident, can reflect upon the subject, enough to

understand it in its various aspects, without arriving at the same

views of the importance of the distinction, whatever may be his

conviction with regard to its truth.

But, indeed, the only grounds which I find, to apprehend that the

reality of the distinction and the importance of the consequence

resulting from it, will be much longer denied and rejected among us,

is in the overweening assurance which prevails with regard to the

adequateness and perfection of the system of philosophy which is

already received. It is taken for granted, as a fact undisputed and

indisputable, that this is the most enlightened age of the world, not

only with regard to the more general diffusion of certain points of

practical knowledge; in which, probably, it may be so, but _in all

respects_; that our whole system of the philosophy of mind as derived

from Lord Bacon, especially, is the only one, which has any claims to

common sense; and that all distinctions not recognized in that are

consequently unworthy of our regard. What those Reformers, to whose

transcendant powers of mind, and to whose characters as truly

spiritual divines, we are accustomed to look with feelings of so much

general regard, might find to say in favour of their philosophy, few

take the pains to inquire. Neither they nor the great philosophers

with whom they held communion on subjects of this sort can appear

among us to speak in their own defence: and even the huge folios and

quartos, in which, though dead, they yet speak--and ought to be

heard--have seldom strayed to this side of the Atlantic. All our

information respecting their philosophical opinions, and the grounds

on which they defended them, has been received from writers, who were

confessedly advocating a system of recent growth, at open war with

every thing more ancient, and who, in the great abundance of their

self-complacency, have represented their own discoveries as containing

the sum and substance of all philosophy, and the accumulated

treasures of ancient wisdom as unworthy the attention of "this

enlightened age." Be it so--yet the _foolishness_ of antiquity, if it

be _of God_, may prove _wiser than men_. It may be found that the

philosophy of the Reformers and their religion are essentially

connected, and must stand or fall together. It may at length be

discovered that a system of religion essentially spiritual, and a

system of philosophy which excludes the very idea of all spiritual

power and agency, in their only distinctive and proper character,

cannot be consistently associated together.

It is our peculiar misfortune in this country that, while the

philosophy of Locke and the Scottish writers has been received in full

faith, as the only rational system, and its leading principles

especially passed off as unquestionable, the strong attachment to

religion, and the fondness for speculation, by both of which we are

strongly characterized, have led us to combine and associate these

principles, such as they are, with our religious interests and

opinions, so variously and so intimately, that by most persons they

are considered as necessary parts of the same system; and from being

so long contemplated together, the rejection of one seems impossible

without doing violence to the other. Yet how much evidence might not

an impartial observer find in examining the theological discussions

which have prevailed, the speculative systems which have been formed

and arrayed against each other, for the last seventy years, to

convince him that there must be some discordance in the elements, some

principle of secret but irreconcilable hostility between a philosophy

and a religion, which, under every ingenious variety of form and

shaping, still stand aloof from each other and refuse to cohere. For

is it not a fact, that in regard to every speculative system which has

been formed on these philosophical principles,--to every new shaping

of theory which has been devised and has gained adherents among

us,--is it not a fact, I ask, that, to all, except those adherents,

the _system_--the philosophical _theory_--has seemed dangerous in its

tendency, and at war with orthodox views of religion--perhaps even

with the attributes of God? Nay, to bring the matter still nearer and

more plainly to view, I ask, whether at this moment the organs and

particular friends of our leading theological seminaries in New

England, both devotedly attached to an orthodox and spiritual system

of religion, and expressing mutual confidence as to the _essentials_

of their mutual faith, do not each consider the other as holding a

philosophical _theory_ subversive of orthodoxy? If I am not

misinformed, this is the simple fact.

Now, if these things be so, I would ask again with all earnestness,

and out of regard to the interests of truth alone, whether serious and

reflecting men may not be permitted, without the charge of heresy in

RELIGION, to stand in doubt of this PHILOSOPHY _altogether_; whether

these facts which will not be disputed, do not furnish just grounds

for suspicion, that the principles of our philosophy may be erroneous,

or at least induce us to look with candour and impartiality at the

claims of another and a different system?

What are the claims of the system, to which the attention of the

public is invited in this Work, can be understood fully, only by a

careful and reflecting examination of its principles in connection

with the conscious wants of our own inward being--the requirements of

our own reason and consciences. Its purpose and tendency, I have

endeavoured in some measure to exhibit; and if the influence of

authority, which the prevailing system furnishes against it, can and

must be counteracted by anything of a like kind--(and whatever

professions we may make, the influence of authority produces at least

a predisposing effect upon our minds)--the remarks which I have made,

will show, that the principles here taught are not wholly

unauthorized by men, whom we have been taught to reverence among the

great and good. I cannot but add, as a matter of simple justice to the

question, that however our prevailing system of philosophizing may

have appealed to the authority of Lord Bacon, it needs but a candid

examination of his writings, especially the first part of his _Novum

Organum_, to be convinced that such an appeal is without grounds; and

that in fact the fundamental principles of his philosophy are the same

with those taught in this work. The great distinction especially,

between the understanding and the reason, is clearly and fully

recognized; and as a philosopher he would be far more properly

associated with Plato, or even Aristotle, than with the modern

philosophers, who have miscalled their systems by his name. In our own

times, moreover, there is abundant evidence, whatever may be thought

of the principles of this Work here, that the same general views of

philosophy are regaining their ascendancy elsewhere. In Great Britain

there are not few, who begin to believe that the deep-toned and

sublime eloquence of Coleridge on these great subjects may have

something to claim their attention besides a few peculiarities of

language. In Paris, the doctrines of a rational and spiritual system

of philosophy are taught to listening and admiring thousands by one of

the most learned and eloquent philosophers of the age; and in Germany,

if I mistake not, the same general views are adopted by the serious

friends of religious truth among her great and learned men.

Such--as I have no doubt--must be the case, wherever thinking men can

be brought distinctly and impartially to examine their claims; and

indeed to those who shall study and comprehend the general history of

philosophy, it must always be matter of special wonder, that in a

Christian community, anxiously striving to explain and defend the

doctrines of Christianity in their spiritual sense, there should have

been a long-continued and tenacious adherence to philosophical

principles, so subversive of their faith in everything distinctively

spiritual; while those of an opposite tendency, and claiming a near

relationship and correspondence with the truly spiritual in the

Christian system, and the mysteries of its sublime faith, were looked

upon with suspicion and jealousy, as unintelligible or dangerous

metaphysics.

And here I must be allowed to add a few remarks with regard to the

popular objections against the system of philosophy, the claims of

which I am urging, especially against the writings of the Author,

under whose name it appears in the present Work. These are various and

often contradictory, but usually have reference either to his

peculiarities of language, or to the depth--whether apparent or

real,--and the unintelligibleness, of his thoughts.

To the first of these it seems to me a sufficient answer, for a mind

that would deal honestly and frankly by itself, to suggest that in the

very nature of things it is impossible for a writer to express by a

single word any truth, or to mark any distinction, not recognized in

the language of his day, unless he adopts a word entirely new, or

gives to one already in use a new and more peculiar sense. Now in

communicating truths, which the writer deems of great and fundamental

importance, shall he thus appropriate a single word old or new, or

trust to the vagueness of perpetual circumlocution? Admitting for

example, the existence of the important distinction, for which this

writer contends, between the understanding and reason, and that this

distinction when recognized at all, is confounded in the common use of

language by employing the words indiscriminately, shall he still use

these words indiscriminately, and either invent a new word, or mark

the distinction by descriptive circumlocutions, or shall he assign a

more distinctive and precise meaning to the words already used? It

seems to me obviously more in accordance with the laws and genius of

language to take the course which he has adopted. But in this case and

in many others, where his language seems peculiar, it cannot be denied

that the words had already been employed in the same sense, and the

same distinctions recognized, by the older and many of the most

distinguished writers in the language.

With regard to the more important objection, that the _thoughts_ of

Coleridge are _unintelligible_, if it be intended to imply, that his

language is not in itself expressive of an intelligible meaning, or

that he affects the appearance of depth and mystery, while his

thoughts are common-place, it is an objection, which no one who has

read his Works attentively, and acquired a feeling of interest for

them, will treat their Author with so much disrespect as to answer at

all. Every such reader _knows_ that he uses words uniformly with

astonishing precision, and that language becomes, in his use of it--in

a degree, of which few writers can give us a conception--a living

power, "consubstantial" with the power of thought, that gave birth to

it, and awakening and calling into action a corresponding energy in

our own minds. There is little encouragement, moreover, to answer the

objections of any man, who will permit himself to be incurably

prejudiced against an Author by a few peculiarities of language, or an

apparent difficulty of being understood, and without inquiring into

the cause of that difficulty, where at the same time he cannot but see

and acknowledge the presence of great intellectual and moral power.

But if it be intended by the objection to say simply, that the

thoughts of the Author are often difficult to be apprehended--that he

makes large demands not only upon the attention, but upon the

reflecting and thinking powers, of his readers, the fact is not, and

need not be, denied; and it will only remain to be decided, whether

the instruction offered, as the reward, will repay us for the

expenditure of thought required, or can be obtained for less. I know

it is customary in this country, as well as in Great Britain--and that

too among men from whom different language might be expected--to

affect either contempt or modesty, in regard to all that is more than

common-place in philosophy, and especially "Coleridge's Metaphysics,"

as "too deep for them." Now it may not be every man's duty, or in

every man's power, to devote to such studies the time and thought

necessary to understand the deep things of philosophy. But for one who

professes to be a scholar, and to cherish a manly love of truth for

the truth's sake, to object to a system of metaphysics because it is

"too _deep_ for him," must be either a disingenuous insinuation, that

its depths are not worth exploring--which is more than the objector

knows--or a confession, that--with all his professed love of truth and

knowledge--he prefers to "sleep after dinner." The misfortune is, that

men have been cheated into a belief, that all philosophy and

metaphysics worth knowing are contained in a few volumes, which can be

understood with little expense of thought; and that they may very well

spare themselves the vexation of trying to comprehend the depths of

"Coleridge's Metaphysics." According to the popular notions of the

day, it is a very easy matter to understand the philosophy of mind. A

new work on philosophy is as easy to read as the last new novel; and

superficial, would-be scholars, who have a very sensible horror at the

thought of studying Algebra, or the doctrine of fluxions, can yet go

through a course of moral sciences, and know all about the philosophy

of the mind.

Now why will not men of sense, and men who have any just pretensions

to scholarship, see that there must of necessity be gross sophistry

somewhere in any system of metaphysics, which pretends to give us an

adequate and scientific self-knowledge--to render comprehensible to

us the mysterious laws of our own inward being, with less manly and

persevering effort of thought on our part, than is confessedly

required to comprehend the simplest of those sciences, all of which

are but some of the _phænomena_ from which the laws in question are

to be inferred?--Why will they not see and acknowledge--what one would

suppose a moment's reflection would teach them--that to attain true

self-knowledge by reflection upon the objects of our inward

consciousness--not merely to understand the motives of our conduct as

conscientious Christians, but to know ourselves scientifically as

philosophers--must, of necessity, be the most deep and difficult of

all our attainments in knowledge? I trust that what I have already

said will be sufficient to expose the absurdity of objections against

metaphysics in general, and do something towards showing, that we are

in actual and urgent need of a system somewhat deeper than those, the

contradictions of which have not without reason made the name of

philosophy a terror to the friends of truth and of religion. "False

metaphysics can be effectually counteracted by true metaphysics alone;

and if the reasoning be clear, solid, and pertinent, the truth deduced

can never be the less valuable on account of the depth from which it

may have been drawn." It is a fact, too, of great importance to be

kept in mind, in relation to this subject, that in the study of

ourselves--in attaining a knowledge of our own being,--there are

truths of vast concernment, and lying at a great depth, which yet no

man can draw for another. However the depth may have been fathomed,

and the same truth brought up by others, for a light and a joy to

their own minds, it must still remain, and be sought for by us, each

for himself, at the bottom of the well.

The system of philosophy here taught does not profess to make men

philosophers, or--which ought to mean the same thing--to guide them

to the knowledge of themselves, without the labour both of attention

and of severe thinking. If it did so, it would have, like the more

popular works of philosophy, far less affinity than it now has, with

the mysteries of religion, and those profound truths concerning our

spiritual being and destiny, which are revealed in the _things hard to

be understood_ of St. Paul and of the _beloved disciple_. For I cannot

but remind my readers again, that the Author does not undertake to

teach us the philosophy of the human mind, with the exclusion of the

truths and influences of religion. He would not undertake to

philosophize respecting the being and character of man, and at the

same time exclude from his view the very principle which constitutes

his proper humanity: he would not, in teaching the doctrine of the

solar system, omit to mention the sun, and the law of gravitation. He

professes to investigate and unfold the being of man _as man_, in his

higher, his peculiar, and distinguishing attributes. These it is,

which are hard to be understood, and to apprehend which requires the

exercise of deep reflection and exhausting thought. Nor in aiming at

this object would he consider it very philosophical to reject the aid

and instruction of eminent writers on the subject of religion, or even

of the volume of Revelation itself. He would consider St. Augustine as

none the less a philosopher, because he became a Christian. The

Apostles John and Paul were, in the view of this system of philosophy,

the most rational of all writers, and the New Testament the most

philosophical of all books. They are so because they unfold more

fully, than any other, the true and essential principles of our being;

because they give us a clearer and deeper insight into those

constituent laws of our humanity, which as men, and therefore as

philosophers, we are most concerned to know. Not only to those, who

seek the practical self-knowledge of the humble, spiritually-minded

Christian, but to those also, who are impelled by the "heaven

descended γνωθι σεαυτον" to study themselves as philosophers, and

to make self-knowledge a science, the truths of Scripture are a light

and a revelation. The more earnestly we reflect upon these and refer

them, whether as Christians or as philosophers, to the movements of

our inward being--to the laws which reveal themselves in our own

consciousness, the more fully shall we understand, not only the

language of Scripture, but all that most demands and excites the

curiosity of the genuine philosopher in the mysterious character of

man. It is by this guiding light, that we can best search into and

apprehend the constitution of that "marvellous microcosm," which, the

more it has been known, has awakened more deeply the wonder and

admiration of the true philosopher in every age.

Nor would the Author of this Work, or those who have imbibed the

spirit of his system, join with the philosophers of the day in

throwing aside and treating with a contempt, as ignorant as it is

arrogant, the treasures of ancient wisdom. _He_, says the son of

Sirach, _that giveth his mind to the law of the Most High, and is

occupied in the meditation thereof, will seek out the wisdom of all

the ancient_. In the estimation of the true philosopher, the case

should not be greatly altered in the present day; and now that two

thousand years have added such rich and manifold abundance to those

ancient "sayings of the wise," he will still approach them with

reverence, and receive their instruction with gladness of heart. In

seeking to explore and unfold these deeper and more solemn mysteries

of our being, which inspire us with awe, while they baffle our

comprehension, he will especially beware of trusting to his own

understanding, or of contradicting, in compliance with the

self-flattering inventions of a single age, the universal faith and

consciousness of the human race. On such subjects, though he would

call no man master, yet neither would he willingly forego the aids to

be derived, in the search after truth, from those great oracles of

human wisdom--those giants in intellectual power who from generation

to generation were admired and venerated by the great and good. Much

less could he think it becoming, or consistent with his duty to hazard

the publication of his own thoughts on subjects of the deepest

concernment, and on which minds of greatest depth and power had been

occupied in former ages, while confessedly ignorant alike of their

doctrines and of the arguments by which they are sustained.

It is in this spirit, that the Author of the work here offered to the

public has prepared himself to deserve the candid and even confiding

attention of his readers, with reference to the great subject of which

he treats.

And although the claims of the Work upon our attention, as of every

other work, must depend more upon its inherent and essential

character, than upon the worth and authority of its Author, it may yet

be of service to the reader to know, that he is no hasty or

unfurnished adventurer in the department of authorship to which the

Work belongs. The discriminating reader of this Work cannot fail to

discover his profound knowledge of the philosophy of language, the

principles of its construction, and the laws of its interpretation. In

others of his works, perhaps more fully than in this, there is

evidence of an unrivalled mastery over all that pertains both to logic

and philology. It has been already intimated, that he is no contemner

of the great writers of antiquity and of their wise sentences; and

probably few English scholars, even in those days when there were

giants of learning in Great Britain, had minds more richly furnished

with the treasures of ancient lore. But especially will the reader of

this Work observe with admiration the profoundness of his

philosophical attainments, and his thorough and intimate knowledge,

not only of the works and systems of Plato and Aristotle, and of the

celebrated philosophers of modern times, but of those too much

neglected writings of the Greek and Roman Fathers, and of the great

leaders of the Reformation, which more particularly qualified him for

discussing the subjects of the present Work. If these qualifications,

and--with all these, and above all--a disposition professed and made

evident seriously to value them, chiefly as they enable him more fully

and clearly to apprehend and illustrate the truths of the Christian

system,--if these, I say, can give an Author a claim to serious and

thoughtful attention, then may the Work here offered urge its claim

upon the reader. My own regard for the cause of truth, for the

interests of philosophy, of reason, and of religion, lead me to hope

that they may not be urged in vain.

Of his general claims to our regard, whether from exalted personal and

moral worth, or from the magnificence of his intellectual powers, and

the vast extent and variety of his accumulated stores of knowledge, I

shall not venture to speak. If it be true indeed that a really great

mind can be worthily commended only by those who adequately both

appreciate and _comprehend_ its greatness, there are few who should

undertake to estimate, and set forth in appropriate terms, the

intellectual power and moral worth of Samuel Taylor Coleridge. Neither

he, nor the public, would be benefited by such commendations as I

could bestow. The few among us who have read his works with the

attention which they deserve, are at no loss what rank to assign him

among the writers of the present age; to those who have not, any

language which I might use would appear hyperbolical and extravagant.

The character and influence of his principles as a philosopher, a

moralist, and a Christian, and of the writings by which he is

enforcing them, do not ultimately depend upon the estimation in which

they may now be held; and to posterity he may safely entrust those

"productive ideas" and "living words"--those

---- truths that wake,

To perish never,

the possession of which will be for their benefit, and connected with

which, in the language of the Son of Sirach,--_His own memorial shall

not depart away, and his name shall live from generation to

generation_.