PS 
 1939 
 
 Southern Branch 
 of the 
 
 University of California 
 
 Los Angeles 
 
 Form L-l 
 
 TS 
 1
 
 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 
 
 OCT 2 -i- 1924 
 
 Z6T 
 
 1923f 
 
 5m-8,'21
 
 REVIEWS 
 
 ESSAYS. 
 
 BY E. G. HOLLAND 
 
 4"V f\ "" **1 J 
 
 79 .', i v _ta,: 
 
 BOSTON: 
 WM. CROSBY AND H. P. NICHOLS, 
 
 111, WASHINGTON STREET. 
 
 1849.
 
 BOSTON: 
 PRINTED BY JOHN -VVILSON, 
 
 No. 21, School-street.
 
 PS 
 
 P H E F A C E. 
 
 X 
 
 THIS volume is given to the public, in answer to the call 
 of numerous friends that I should -bring together, for 
 general perusal, several Essays on different subjects. It 
 is also given as the expression of truths, whose influences 
 are not unimportant in the right development of mind, in 
 an age when many high moral tendencies are counteracted 
 by those which operate to materialize the aims and aspira 
 tions of men. The leading idea which characterizes the 
 several articles here published the supremacy of the 
 spiritual nature in all that constitutes the true glory of 
 man is one which needs to be brought forward in clear 
 and bold statements into the literature of every country, 
 '' and into the practical development of every people. So 
 ciety can have no exalted aims any farther than this view 
 is realized. It should be seen and felt that through the 
 universe the spiritual holds dominion over the material, 
 that the latter is a ministering servant to the former. 
 God is first. Material worlds are second. It is under 
 this aspect that the external creation always strikes us. 
 So, in all things touching human nature, the soul is first ; 
 whilst the organism and all material possession are second. 
 From the soul, therefore, ought we to start in the investi 
 gation of all the great problems of human interest. God 
 and immortality are implied and established by its ele-
 
 iv PREFACE. 
 
 ments. The universe is its vast and expansive mirror. 
 Freedom, education, indeed all great and generous pur 
 poses, are to draw from this principle their strength and 
 nurture ; since it is impossible that men should be borne 
 upward, in their great conflicts and struggles, by any 
 agency higher than motives of transient and selfish in 
 terest, so long as materialism is their practical and their 
 chief philosophy. 
 
 I should remark that the article on Dr. Channing is 
 written with the previous knowledge that very many into 
 whose hands this volume will be likely to fall, are un 
 acquainted with his writings ; a fact which exerted its influ 
 ence over the style and manner adopted in the treatment 
 of the subject. I have not spoken of Dr. Channing's 
 sectarian relation, because he is so nobly free from all 
 sectarian limits. He seems wider and greater than any 
 denomination. His position, as it seems to me, inde 
 pendently overlooks them all. He belongs to all, and is 
 therefore fitted to address the world in a universal speech. 
 The Address, at the close of the Essays here published, 
 forms so small a part of the volume as to constitute no 
 valid reason for changing the name under which these 
 articles are published. 
 
 In the hope that some good influences may proceed 
 from the various truths here set forth, I would confidingly 
 offer them to the independent appreciation of a public, 
 who, there is much reason to believe, is becoming dis 
 tinguished by the increase as well as by the diffusion of 
 general thoughtfulness and intelligence. 
 
 E. G. HOLLAND. 
 
 BOSTON, Sept. 1, 1849.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 REVIEWS. 
 
 Page 
 
 CONFUCIUS 
 
 42 
 CHAINING 
 
 1 01 
 
 NATURAL THEOLOGY 
 
 ESSAYS. 
 
 GENIUS 169 
 
 BEAUTY 208 
 
 RISING OF THOUGHT . . 2o 
 
 277 
 THE INFINITE HARMONY ' '. . 
 
 301 
 
 SORROW . . 
 THE IMMORTAL LIFE 
 
 HUMAN FREEDOM AND RIGI 
 
 LIFE AN ORIGINAL POWER 
 
 THE OLD AND THE NEW 
 
 320 
 350 
 
 JUSTICE * ' 
 
 SUPREMACY OF HEART ,385 
 
 394 
 398
 
 ERRATA. 
 
 Page 54, line 15, for literal read liberal. 
 246, 23, for motion read cmution.
 
 REVIEWS.
 
 CONFUCIUS. 
 
 " TUB BRITISH WORLD IN THE EAST ; a Guide, Historical, Moral, 
 and Commercial, to India, China, Australia, South Africa, and 
 the other Possessions or Connections of Great Britain in the 
 Eastern and Southern Seas. By LEITCH RITCHIE. In two vols. 
 Lond. 1847." Octavo, pp. 500, 512. 
 
 " FIVE YEARS m CHINA, from 1842 to 1847. With an Account of 
 the Occupation of the Islands of Labuan and Borneo by her 
 Majesty's Forces. By Lieut. F. C. FORBES, R. N. Commander 
 of H. M. S. Bonetta. Lond. 1848." Octavo, pp. 405. 
 
 THE richest production of any clime is the great 
 man. He is more than mountains, rivers, and seas. 
 The universe of means, with its infinitude of influ 
 ences, produces nothing so great, nothing so good, 
 as he. He is the end. Hence nature's capital is 
 always well invested when her purest energy con 
 centrates in such a one ; for here there is no failure, 
 no loss, no cheat. The thoughts of such a man are 
 living ; his voice is ever to us ; he is our contempo 
 rary, though born in the most distant ages. We are 
 thankful to the past, that it yields us shells, obelisks, 
 vegetable petrifactions, and the bones of animal 
 monsters ; but we are far more grateful that it gives 
 us a few great men, who are its life and history. 
 These let the true antiquarian seek, that their eyes 
 may again sparkle with thought, that their masterly 
 l
 
 2 CONFUCIUS. 
 
 speech may burn in the heart of the active present. 
 God has many voices in history. And so far as a 
 man is great and true, he belongs to all time, like 
 the sun and moon ; and so far as he is not this, it is 
 needless to know him. We therefore do well to 
 look somewhat reverently to the past ; for it had its 
 great men, who perhaps, through the world's forget- 
 fulness and isolation, may, in an important sense, 
 still become its teachers. 
 
 The citizens of China proper constitute at least 
 one third part of the human race ; and, from the 
 ample resources of nature there existing, one might 
 anticipate a high development of mind. Yet through 
 the long ages of the Chinese empire, the duration of 
 which neither they nor we understand, but one great 
 man has appeared, the vast shadow of his mind 
 covering all. The whole power of the Chinese 
 nature is represented in him, beyond whose thought 
 no one attempts to go. Temples arise to his fame 
 in nearly every city and village of the empire. The 
 scholar burns incense to his memory when about to 
 undergo his public examination, whilst to the mil 
 lions of this massive race his name is the synonyme 
 of wisdom itself. No man is accounted wise or 
 learned who is not familiar with his books. The 
 rank of nobility, with the highest official honors, still 
 distinguishes his descendants. And, in the world of 
 letters, admiration and eulogy have gathered around 
 this name ; the skeptic and the believer in our religion 
 alike praising him. But this same Confucius met in 
 his day the sorest trials ; was alternately followed 
 and deserted, admired and scorned. He was not
 
 CONFUCIUS. 
 
 3 
 
 understood ; men feared him, especially the little 
 men of state. He battled his way against ignorance, 
 envy, and vice. Plots were formed against his life. 
 Every thing combined to test the greatness of his 
 heart. In short, he had the legacy of all great re 
 formers, a measure of the fear, hatred, and derision 
 of his times. 
 
 The wonder is not that a great man appeared in 
 China or in Persia. Human nature is rich in its ele 
 ments ; and he who properly estimates the influence 
 of the universe in the development of mind marvels 
 not when he finds the great and the good man be 
 yond the limits of Judea, or the inclosure of his own 
 particular civilization. Notwithstanding the unity of 
 the race and the fraternal ties that unite its greatest 
 representatives to the mass, it cannot, however, be 
 denied, that each great man is modified by the pecu 
 liar genius of the nation whose life he inherits. Thus, 
 it is plain that Socrates is the Grecian great man ; 
 Cicero, we think, the Roman ; Moses, the Hebrew ; 
 Napoleon, the French ; and Peter, the Russian ; 
 each is great through the particular genius of his 
 country and race. Confucius is the Chinese great 
 man, differing in the order and hues of his moral 
 genius from the Greek, Roman, and Hebrew, as 
 widely as the Chinese differ from Greeks, Romans, 
 and Jews. 
 
 " To understand Confucius," says Mr. Ritchie, " is to 
 understand China. He had no idiosyncracy. He was an 
 incarnation of the national character, a mouthpiece of the 
 national feelings ; and he was only greater than the rest 
 of his countrymen, by being imbued with that genin
 
 4 CONFUCIUS. 
 
 which gives vitality and energy to thoughts that lie dor 
 mant, though existing in the minds of meaner men. He 
 was the mental light which touches, as Dry den expresses 
 it, the sleeping images of things ; and, at his appearance, 
 all becomes visible that before was obscure, all distinct 
 that before was unintelligible, and the tumultuous ideas 
 of a great nation fell gradually into peace and order and 
 harmony." Vol. ii. p. 151. 
 
 A few words here on this unique and ancient na 
 tion will not appear an unauthorized digression. 
 The empire is indeed a national pyramid, whose 
 apex looks down upon the ruins of the proudest 
 kingdoms of antiquity, apparently defying those dis 
 solving agencies which have laid low the proudest 
 organizations of the past. For thousands of years it 
 has thus stood, its civilization, whatever it is, always 
 prevailing over the conqueror ; and now, with a pop 
 ulation greater than that of all Europe, it remains 
 united and unbroken. This is, indeed, a philosophi 
 cal marvel, compelling the conclusion, that govern 
 ment there has firm pillars on which to rest, that 
 the popular mind has constancy, at least. In the 
 language of phrenology, we might say that the coin 
 cidence between the great height of the Chinese 
 head in the region of firmness and veneration, and 
 the unchangeableness of the Chinese institutions and 
 manners, is not unworthy of notice. These two facts 
 doubtless act and re-act on each other ; but govern 
 ment flows from man, we are sure, in a deeper sense, 
 than man from government. The reciprocal action 
 of firmness and veneration creates submission and 
 constancy, so essential to the perpetuity of any gov-
 
 CONFUCIUS. 5 
 
 ernment, and especially of this, in which the patri 
 archal idea so constantly prevails. There is no trait 
 more prominent in the Chinese character than vener 
 ation for the past. There are the golden ages. The 
 worship of ancestors, universal among the Chinese, 
 tends to glue them to the past, to check progress and 
 innovation. And, in accordance with all this, the Chi 
 nese are quiet, and timidly conservative. They have 
 not the bold, chivalrous elements of character, while 
 there is a systematic industry pervading the empire. 
 In their exhibition of imagination and taste, they are 
 minute and finical. They describe too much what a 
 thing is to leave it natural. Wonder and imitation 
 are also large. Deference to superiors is woven into 
 the growth of every mind. They believe in Tien 
 (the Supreme God), the perfectibility of human na- 
 uire, the impartial compensations of justice, and the 
 life immortal. Drama, romance, history, poetry, 
 ethics, religion, and law, they have of their kind ; 
 and it has been asserted, that nearly every man 
 among their millions is able to read and write. Per 
 haps the two ideas most characteristic of this people 
 are deference to superiors, and veneration for the 
 past. 
 
 Confucius, the only master-mind that the nation 
 has produced, is to be contemplated chiefly as a 
 moral teacher, moving in the sphere of the states 
 man. He never spoke as a prophet. He taught no 
 new religion, claimed no divine inspiration, and 
 stood never on the ground of a supernatural mission. 
 His moral genius qualified him to grasp universal 
 principles flowing through the nature of man, and 
 i*
 
 6 CONFUCIUS. 
 
 existent in the conditions of things. To these he 
 appealed. Through the law which Heaven has en 
 graved on all hearts, he sought to reform his age and 
 people. 
 
 The age to which Confucius, in his personal his 
 tory, belongs, makes him the contemporary, or nearly 
 so, of Herodotus, Pythagoras, and Solon. He was 
 born five hundred and fifty years before Christ. The 
 Chinese historians allege, that the times were very 
 evil ; that sad corruption prevailed in high places ; that 
 boundless luxury, inordinate love of pleasure, and 
 fatal disorders in government, everywhere prevailed. 
 Religion, the source and nourisher of human virtues, 
 they say, was overclouded by the marvellous, and 
 weakened by superstition. There was no depth of 
 sincerity in the age. Truth did not speak from the 
 heart of man. Life had died out. The deepest 
 wants asked for the true man, somewhat as the 
 long-parched earth asks heaven for rain. He came, 
 as come God's greatest gifts always, when most 
 needed ; he came, yet his own people received him 
 not in the thorough and uniform appreciation of his 
 aim. 
 
 The spirit of mythology never neglects the ancient 
 great man. Some star or wondrous appearance wel 
 comes the man of destiny. Thus, two dragons, the 
 symbol of royalty in China, " encircled the house " 
 when the sublime Confucius was born ; celestial mu 
 sic rang in his mother's ears ; and on the breast of 
 the infant philosopher appeared the sentence, " The 
 maker of a rule for settling the world." This bow 
 ing of nature to the great man, asserted by the
 
 CONFUCIUS. 7 
 
 mythological falsehood, shadows forth this truth, 
 that the man born to influence and govern ages is 
 greater than outward nature, is the end to which the 
 universe ministers ; in his mind, suns, flowers, and 
 oceans are reproduced ; all things do him homage ; 
 all aid the spirit that conquers the error and darkness 
 of ages. 
 
 It may be asked, Who knows that Confucius was 
 the great man his disciples make him ? We answer, 
 that the danger is not, that a great man will be held 
 up to our admiration where there is none : the real 
 danger is, that the portraiture will fall below the 
 reality. A score of ordinary minds can never give 
 us a truly great man, from the fact that no one can 
 rise above his own ideal ; and every one's ideal of a 
 great man will be the enlarged likeness of his own 
 rnind. Each constructor, furnishing as much as he 
 will, leaves a character within his own level. 'Mice 
 never create mountains. But when the reality has 
 lived among men, and wrought his image on their 
 minds, then, from the abundant material of words 
 and acts, he may be set forth, probably not entire, 
 but as the section of a grand circle, from which we 
 may ascertain the whole indicated by the part. 
 
 According to Chinese historians, Confucius was 
 born in the kingdom of Lu, where now his sepulchre 
 remains, during the reign of the twenty-third emperor 
 of the dynasty of Tcheou. By his mother's side he 
 descended from the noble family of Yen ; through 
 his father he claimed descent from the emperor Tii, 
 of a former dynasty ; which royalty of blood must 
 have smoothed his way as a moral teacher into the
 
 8 CONFUCIUS. 
 
 courts of princes, for in no country is veneration for 
 rank more general. We know of no historical facts 
 which determine how far this circumstance aided his 
 mission ; but surely it justifies the conclusion, that 
 Confucius is not to be regarded as a grand instance 
 of individual genius rising above the obstacles of ob 
 scurity and poverty to hold the reins of spiritual 
 empire over nations and ages. He started on van 
 tage-ground ; though the nobility of his family now 
 dates from him. 
 
 Several facts are reported of his early life. At the 
 age of three he was fatherless, and on the brow of 
 
 O ' 
 
 his childhood gravity and thoughtfulness reposed. 
 Great maturity of faculties is ascribed to his infancy. 
 He took no pleasure in sports. But nothing is related 
 of the infant Confucius so strange as in the wilds of 
 Persia is claimed by his disciples for the half-fabulous 
 Zoroaster, when they gravely affirm that he laughed 
 the day he was born, and that, as a presage of his 
 future knowledge, his brain palpitated so strongly 
 that every hand approaching it was instantly repelled. 
 At the age of fifteen, Confucius is said to have 
 mastered the sacred " Five Books," and indeed all 
 the great works of the ancient legislators, from the 
 wells of whose wisdom he never ceased to draw. 
 Four years later he entered into the marriage relation, 
 but soon after dissolved it, that he might, in perfect 
 freedom from every embarrassment, give himself up 
 to the political and moral renovation of his country ; 
 and at the age of twenty-three he is said to have 
 entered upon his public career, as a teacher of duty 
 in the courts and palaces of princes. These are the
 
 CONFUCIUS. 9 
 
 most interesting facts related of the childhood and the 
 youth of Confucius. 
 
 Born and educated among the nobility, it was 
 natural that this class should have been the first to 
 hear his instructions. It is very certain that Confu 
 cius did not lack faith in the capacity of the popular 
 mind ; for the idea of the superior worth of human 
 nature is uniformly clear in all his writings. He 
 said, " I have never seen a man incapable of virtue. 
 All can gain it." But he lived where princes, and 
 not the people, ruled ; where the virtues and vices of 
 the great in office were imitated ; where public opi 
 nion came always from the few. His course seemed 
 to say, " If I can win the princes and their courts to 
 wisdom and virtue, through their influence de 
 scending upon the mass, I will gradually reform all 
 the people." Nor was this reformatory scheme 
 unworthy of his mind. The few have always created 
 the character of society. 
 
 The sun has most splendor at its rising. So the 
 extraordinary mind often ascends the horizon in mag 
 nificence, though perhaps soon to be obscured by 
 clouds or darkened by eclipse. Great fame followed 
 the first efforts of this youth, Confucius. Offices of 
 state descended upon him. He accepted and he 
 renounced them, as might best suit his grand purpose, 
 the successful development of his moral views among 
 his countrymen. Real greatness is never captivated 
 by the means. After society had given him this 
 encouraging reception, after he had worn for a time 
 the honors of state, and before he had experienced the 
 re-action of popular favor, he disrobed himself of
 
 10 CONFUCIUS. 
 
 all official dignities, and left his native kingdom, to 
 enjoy the mental benefit of travel through different 
 parts of the empire. He would survey, we may 
 imagine, the field of his future labors and influences. 
 He would know the elements of society for himself. 
 He would observe the scenes of nature and the man 
 ners of men ; and doubtless he realized the truth of 
 one of his own profound political maxims, subse 
 quently expressed, " Study man in man ; for from 
 that which is in man may be learned that by which 
 to govern men." Thus did observation and study 
 unite to enrich a spirit whose ideas more than a score 
 of centuries have not exhausted. 
 
 He at length returned to his native kingdom of Lu, 
 where he accepted one of the principal offices, and 
 where he is said so to have revolutionized the govern 
 ment as to have brought prince and subjects under 
 the dominion of an exalted virtue, wisdom, and 
 peace. An harmonious family, the favorite symbol 
 of a well-ordered realm in the political language of 
 China, is chosen as the figure by which to represent 
 the elevation to which he had brought the state. 
 The goodness of his teaching was no longer a prob 
 lem unsolved by practice. The happy state of a 
 whole kingdom proclaimed the reformer to be no 
 idle theorist, no mere dreamer of perfect worlds that 
 human beings can never reach. We may imagine 
 the happiness of the great and good man, as his own 
 eye surveyed this result. But his joy was soon over 
 clouded. For one of the neighboring princes, moved 
 by envy at the prosperous condition of this elevated 
 kingdom, artfully planned its overthrow by sending
 
 CONFUCIUS. 11 
 
 to the court a number of accomplished ladies, whose 
 influence so turned attention to feasts, dances, and 
 various diversions, as to undermine the stern public 
 virtues inculcated by the reformer, and plunged the 
 nobles and all into the errors of Epicurean life with 
 its natural consequences. The philosopher mourn 
 fully saw the tide of corruption widening in its dark, 
 bold, and impetuous rush, threatening to destroy the 
 only living monument that bore witness to the supe 
 rior force of virtue as the" source of prosperity to a 
 kingdom. He boldly remonstrated, as the state was 
 sinking ; but, the charms of woman, there as else 
 where, proving more potent than the philosopher's 
 voice, and unable longer to resist the flood of dissi 
 pation so boldly flowing over a country whose skies 
 to him were now darkened by despair, he became a 
 voluntary exile from his native Lu, and travelled 
 through all the great cities and kingdoms of the em 
 pire. This conduct, though it may appear impatient, 
 and in a degree passionate to some, was but the 
 deliberate embodiment of one of his own political 
 maxims. " Readily abandon," says he, " thy country, 
 when virtue is there depressed and vice encouraged. 
 But if thou design not to renounce the maxims of 
 the age in thy retreat and exile, remain in thy miser 
 able country ; for what reason shouldst thou leave 
 it ? " We will not pause to discuss the propriety of 
 taking from a community the light of virtuous exam 
 ple, because the darkness of vice settles down upon 
 it ; something may be said for and against this idea 
 of voluntary exile ; but the passage cited proves, that 
 he acted deliberately on an idea that had the sanction
 
 12 CONFUCIUS. 
 
 of his whole mind, and one which the progress of 
 his reason in future years never induced him to re 
 nounce. 
 
 But fear and jealousy awoke at his presence, as he 
 approached the various provinces and cities. The 
 leading men trembled lest the superiority of his tal 
 ents should undermine their power ; still more, per 
 haps, did they dislike the stern reproofs of his life, 
 and the austere strictness of his morals, making him 
 an unpleasant companion to the licentious nobles. 
 None of the great kingdoms through which he passed, 
 such as Tschi, Goo, Shi, and Tsoo, invited him to 
 take up his residence in any of their principal cities. 
 Occasionally he received contemptuous treatment. 
 The popular voice tuned itself by the favor, indiffer 
 ence, or opposition of the resident princes ; now own 
 ing him as wisdom's oracle, and anon bestowing the 
 opprobrium of satirical song. Was he not doomed 
 at times to feel the force of that truth to which Pope 
 has given poetic utterance ? 
 
 " Truths would you teach, or save a sinking land > 
 All fear, none aid you, and few understand." 
 
 But he well endured the " painful preeminence " to 
 which his wisdom had brought him. He mourned 
 that the sages of the earth Avere so few. He would 
 till the world Avith Avise men. Neglecting his personal 
 interests, he Avas brought to the borders of extreme 
 poverty, the not uncommon lot of true reformers. 
 But he devised for himself deliverance in becoming 
 a private teacher. He Avould master his evils. Cer 
 tain sages told him to despair of the world, and
 
 CONFUCIUS. 13 
 
 become a hermit. But greatness is never discour 
 aged. He had too much faith in human capacity, 
 too much love for human nature, and too much con 
 fidence in the omnipotence of truth, to obey such 
 counsel. He looked all his evils in the face, and 
 resolved to live for men and with men ; no longer 
 confining his labors to palaces, but giving them freely 
 to all who would listen and learn. Nor was this, 
 probably, the first instance, since the world began, 
 in which ill success among the great has awakened 
 a more democratic sentiment in the bosom of a gifted 
 noble. His favorite plan of reforming all through 
 the higher classes seems to have somewhat waned. 
 He probably saw that social position was not the 
 mightiest power ; that genial souls were not confined 
 to the courts of princes ; that much good could be 
 done to that common mind Avhich in later ages heard 
 " gladly " the divinest teaching, teaching which 
 the sophisticated religionist of high places could not 
 half so well apprehend. 
 
 That the plan of Confucius spread over a wider 
 territory than the boundaries of China Proper is, per 
 haps, matter of doubt, although it is affirmed, that, in 
 the expansion of his benevolence, he had purposed the 
 ullirnate extension of his labors into foreign countries. 
 He was a universal man ; and it cannot be supposed 
 that his nation formed the boundary of his sympathy. 
 That he was capable of a benevolent scheme which 
 should cover the whole world is not impossible ; and 
 that he would have enlightened the whole race, were 
 it practicable, cannot be doubted ; for no view of the 
 brotherhood of man can be wider than that given in 
 
 2
 
 1 1 CONFUCIUS. 
 
 one of his simple utterances, namely, " All the men 
 of the earth are thy brethren." It is certain, how 
 ever, that he sent out no missionaries to carry his 
 views to other lands, though hundreds were em 
 ployed in their dissemination within the limits of 
 China. Every wise reformer begins at home ; and, 
 as Confucius did not succeed during his lifetime in 
 effecting the moral revolution he had designed, it is 
 impossible to determine what he would have done 
 for the world out of China, had he succeeded at 
 home. It is certain that the reformer was deeply 
 conscious that the moral science he unfolded be 
 longed to the human race. 
 
 During the life of this wonderful man, the his 
 torians allege that he had no less than three thousand 
 disciples, five hundred of whom are said to have at 
 tained the highest offices of government, Avhilst they 
 celebrate only seventy-two for the superiority of their 
 attainments, and only ten for a perfect capacity to 
 measure their master's mind. Perhaps this last num 
 ber should have been still further reduced. Coming 
 into public life at the age of twenty-three, and dying 
 in the seventy-third year of his age, he enjoyed half 
 a century in which to perfect his views, and to wit 
 ness their effect on the lives of others. His success 
 in reality was such as might have been reasonably 
 anticipated, although not half equal to his hopes, as 
 shown by the fact that the last three years of his life 
 were spent in retirement and sorrow, in view of the 
 corruption of the age ; and he died despairing of the 
 good for which he had lived. But when death came, 
 veneration revived. Some princely eyes wept, that
 
 CONFUCIUS. lO 
 
 Tien had taken from the earth so great a light. For 
 lorn Confucius ! He left the earth without a glimpse 
 of the glorious influences his words were destined 
 to exert. Yet, for all that appears to the contrary, 
 his faith in what he had taught remained as adamant 
 to the last. On the banks of the same river where 
 his scholars once gathered around him, now stands 
 his sepulchre, whilst in his many temples, visited by 
 the reverent footsteps of millions, flowers, fruits, per 
 fumes, and incense are everywhere offered to his 
 memory. We will quote the sentence written in 
 gilt letters on a table in all his temples, not only 
 because it expresses the reverence universally felt 
 for his name, but because it clearly implies that the 
 ideas of a spiritual nature and world exist in the 
 popular faith of the Chinese. " O Confucius ! our 
 revered master ! Let thy spiritual part descend, and 
 be pleased with this tribute of respect which we now 
 humbly offer thee ! " a prayer without reason, ex- 
 cept as uttered by those who believe in spiritual 
 existences after death.* 
 
 * Lieutenant Forbes asserts that the number of temples erected 
 to the memory of Confucius is " upwards of 1560." These tem 
 ples, he says, " usually cover an enormous area ; one establish 
 ment at Ningpo occupies about ten acres of land, laid out in 
 ornamental temples of all sizes, triumphal entrances, fountains, 
 and tanks, and courts planted with trees, mostly yew. But, 
 except on occasion of a festival, these are rarely or never visited ; 
 and the grass grows in abundance through the interstices of the 
 pavement. The only ornaments are carved beams and huge 
 frames, containing maxims and- sayings of the patriarch." The 
 following curious estimate of the sacrificial honors paid to his 
 name, we give in the words of Lieutenant Forbes. " It is calcu 
 lated," says he, " that there are sacrificed every year," on the two
 
 16 CONFUCIUS. 
 
 From the historical facts in the life of Confucius, 
 we now pass to a sketch of his abstract views, pre 
 cepts, and opinions. We would again remind our 
 readers, that he is presented to us as the statesman 
 and the moral teacher, not as the prophet or apostle 
 of a new religion. But his statesmanship is not his 
 strong point ; for he was not only content with the 
 past, but even praised the legislation of antiquity as 
 the model of perfection. The great and beautiful 
 fact in his statesmanship seems to be the reliance he 
 constantly places on virtue as the only means of 
 safety and prosperity to the state. Man's relation 
 to this harmonizes Avith his relations to Tien, man 
 kind, and justice, and partakes of all the solemnity 
 and greatness which the universal ethics of nature 
 impose. But all the points of view under which 
 Confucius may be contemplated are secondary to 
 that of the moral teacher, a higher than which can 
 not be conceived. 
 
 Before we undertake the exhibition of his leading 
 thoughts, we would notice two remarkable traits of 
 his mind, which, though apparently discordant, yet 
 in the action of his genius are made to harmonize. 
 We mean his reverence for the past, and his intuitive 
 
 festivals held in honor of Confucius, " 6 bullocks, 27,000 pigs, 
 5,800 sheep, 2,800 deer, and 27,000 rabbits ; besides 27,000 pieces 
 of silk that are burned upon his altars." Pp. 124, 125. 
 
 Lieutenant Forbes confines himself to a very slight notice of 
 the personal history and teachings of Confucius, the purpose of his 
 work not requiring more. Mr. Ritchie treats the subject some 
 what more at large, but still without any pretension to fulness. 
 We have gathered the materials used in the present article almost 
 exclusively from other sources.
 
 CONFUCIUS, 1 / 
 
 power. No man esteemed the past more than he. 
 He ever quoted its writings and its illustrious exam 
 ples. By its light he would reprove and instruct, 
 the present. As the Chinese great man, it is natural 
 that he should exhibit this trait of his race ; nor can 
 it be questioned, that, through this apparent defect, 
 he brought a deep and universal feeling of his nation 
 under tribute to his cause. It is not uncommon for 
 the truly great man to feel deeply the poverty both 
 of the past and the present, and, reaching forward, 
 to brinof down the unfathered thoughts of future 
 
 O O <~J 
 
 times. But Confucius only mourned the present. 
 He turned admiring eyes toward an Eden of sages 
 and princes far back in the distant lime. So much 
 did he dwell on the wisdom of the ancient worthies, 
 Yao, Shun, Tching-tang, Yu, and Ven-Vang, that 
 he came finally to be regarded very much as the 
 representative of the imperial sages, And so far 
 was he from wishing to conceal this character under 
 the mantle of original wisdom, that he publicly ac 
 cepted it. 
 
 But his was no merely traditional mind. He shed 
 upon the antiquity he explored the light of his own 
 superlative genius ; so that the past which he saw 
 was not the past that others saw. He readily per 
 ceived the great principles into which facts are 
 resolved. " The whole doctrine of the three hun 
 dred poems," said Confucius, " is reduced to these 
 few words, Su Vu Sie, which import that we ought 
 not to think any thing that is wicked or impure." 
 As an instance of the clearness with*which he saw 
 the Universal, we will present the opening para- 
 
 2*
 
 18 CONFUCIUS. 
 
 graphs of his first two Books, translated from the 
 French of the Jesuit missionaries of Pekin. 
 
 " The true wisdom is to enlighten the spirit and to 
 purify the heart, to love mankind and to cause them to 
 love virtue ; to surmount every obstacle in order to he 
 united to the Supreme Good, and to he attached only to 
 it."" Tien has written his law in our hearts, nature has 
 revealed it, the rules of manners are founded on its teach 
 ings ; wisdom consists in knowing them, virtue in follow 
 ing them." 
 
 Indeed, it is almost impossible for Confucius to 
 touch a topic, however local it may be, without com 
 pelling it to yield some abstract thought, some uni 
 versal law. This highest power of genius the 
 ability to see at once the principles which lie at the 
 bottom of facts was his in a preeminent degree, 
 and it shed a light over all the homage he paid to 
 the past. 
 
 He quoted the ancient Odes and Princes, never 
 without wisdom, and often with eloquence. The 
 passages quoted served to introduce his topics, and. 
 connected with the comments of his own mind, 
 spoke with new energy to the minds he addressed. 
 
 " It is written," says he, " in the Chou-king, ' Apply 
 yourselves to reform and to renew the manners of the 
 people.' " Again : " In the Chi-king it is written, ' The 
 Mienman (a hird) knows how to perch itself on the trees 
 of the hill.' Alas ! this small hird places itself aright ; 
 how does man appear not to know ? Ought the rays of 
 reason, that enlighten him, to direct him less surely than 
 the instinct of nature this wild sparrow ? " " The Ode
 
 CONFUCIUS. 19 
 
 says, ' An irreproachable life carries afar an impression of 
 light and innocence which corrects the manners of the 
 people.' " " The poet sings, ' The lute has nothing so 
 sweet as the voice of the spouse who loves concord. O 
 life of hearts and of minds ! thou hast the joy and felicity 
 of brothers.' " " ' The eagle,' says the poet, ' takes his 
 flight, and soars beyond the clouds ; the dolphin plunges 
 with rapidity, and sees the bottom of the sea.' " 
 
 From the last symbol the speaker could say, 
 Behold the saint ! He, too, rises into the sublime 
 heights, and descends into the profound depths ! 
 
 " It is written in the Chi-king, ' Such as saw the reeds 
 which grew on the banks of the Ki adorn it perpetually 
 with new foliage ; spreading wide their branches, and dis 
 playing all around a verdure that charmed the eyes, 
 such offer to our notice the good prince Ouen-ouang. 
 His mind is as an ivory sculptured, like a diamond cut 
 and polished. Its perfection is his work. Oh the eleva 
 tion of his thoughts, and the nobleness of his sentiments, 
 the dignity of his person ! His glory shall be immortal 
 as his virtues.' " 
 
 These are fair specimens of the writings used by 
 him. Frequent are his appeals to the legislative and 
 the poetic minds of former time. But the ancient 
 saying was his servant, not his master. He dealt in 
 old things somewhat as the spirit of nature deals 
 with particles and elements as old as the creation, 
 constantly working them into new forms of life. 
 
 He began with the inward life. 
 
 " Labor to purify thy thoughts ; for, if thy thoughts 
 are not impure, neither will thy actions be." " The
 
 20 CONFUCIUS. 
 
 wise man seeks the cause of his defects in himself; but 
 the fool, avoiding himself, seeks it in all others besides 
 himself." 
 
 Moral genius always penetrates the fact, that 
 every man's outward life is but a stream from the 
 invisible fountain of inward mind ; and though the 
 stupid may not detect, and the ritualist may deny it, 
 this is evermore the primary truth in all ascent to 
 moral perfection. The superficial teacher takes you 
 abroad for deliverance ; the true teacher brings you 
 home, and opens the unseen springs of life within 
 you. This did Confucius. 
 
 " The laws of conduct," said he, " are immutable : they 
 were no more the same, were they able to change." 
 " There are things more sublime than the eye has ever 
 seen or the ear heard : it is in the sanctuary of the con 
 science that he studies them." 
 
 Confucius was no materialist. The soul was of a 
 higher nature, and its spiritual beauty transcended 
 the grandeur of all outward scenes. 
 
 The supreme good, or chief end of man, is, 
 according to Confucius, the entire conformity of 
 human action with right reason. Virtue is the end 
 of life. This view sheds its moral brightness over 
 all he says. He contemplates every topic from its 
 moral point of view. This is as prominent in his 
 politics as in his most abstract discussion of morals. 
 And as the philosopher comes to us very much in 
 the envelope of the statesman, we must dwell for a 
 moment on some of his political thoughts.
 
 CONFUCIUS. 
 
 21 
 
 "A kingdom is rich only by justice and virtue." 
 " Virtue is the sun of government." " There is no dif 
 ference in this respect between an emperor and the least 
 of his subjects. Virtue is the root of all good. To cul 
 tivate it is 'the first duty and the most serious concern of 
 life. If one neglects it, the disorders of the heart pass 
 into the conduct, and he builds only upon ruins." "Vir 
 tue is the unshaken foundation of the throne, and the 
 ever-flowing source of authority ; riches and offices are 
 only the ornament." " Justice is the most precious and 
 inexhaustible treasure of the state." " Confucius says, 
 of governing with equity, that it resembles the north 
 star, which is fixed, and all the stars surround it." 
 
 These passages show us the supreme importance 
 which Confucius attached to moral principle as an 
 element of dignity and happiness to the state. To 
 him, the chief good of man and that of the state 
 were the same. No policy, no craft of the politician, 
 could sustain the glory of a kingdom. Nothing but 
 the triumph of the great moral laws, united with 
 deliberate wisdom, could do this. This lesson of 
 ages, prominent as the sun in the politics of Confu 
 cius, and not less so in all the glories and ruins of 
 the past, is still one in which mankind but half be 
 lieve, and consequently it is but half obeyed ; for 
 states, as well as persons, usually act from their real 
 faith. He said that the royal robe should always be 
 humbly Avorn. He constantly urged upon princes 
 the most solemn sense of their responsibility, affirm 
 ing that the destiny of the people was ever in their 
 hands. Those who regarded the magnificence of 
 the state as the offspring of riches, rather than
 
 Z'4 CONFl/Cll'S. 
 
 of wisdom and virtue, he called base men. He said 
 the prince should seek virtue more than talent and 
 genius in those whom he might honor with office. 
 
 O O 
 
 He would check the ambition for territory. He 
 taught that a kingdom was large enough when 
 its subjects were contented. The ideal prince de 
 manded by Confucius was indeed a sublime being. 
 He was perfectly the master of himself. He dis 
 played in his example all the virtues he would have 
 his subjects imitate. His prince desired little of 
 what other men sought. He looked down upon 
 riches, children, and life itself, as but transient ad 
 vantages. " Yao," said he, " saw nothing above 
 him but heaven, to which he was entirely con 
 formed." Few Yaos were there in his day ! 
 
 So strong was his reliance on moral power, and 
 so clement was his heart, that he found much fault 
 with the severe corporal punishments inflicted by the 
 magistrates. It is good to hear a mild voice of 
 mercy coming from the distance of twenty-five hun 
 dred years. It is good to behold one towering up 
 in spiritual height above the practice of his times, 
 and to hear him urging princes to wield the power 
 of clemency and good example over their subjects, 
 and telling them that the prevalence of severe pun 
 ishments is proof of their want of virtue. It is still 
 common in China to inflict suffering with the bam 
 boo, and many die after the infliction of one hundred 
 blows. Notwithstanding the tenderness of which we 
 have spoken as belonging to Confucius, it should 
 not be inferred that he would hold the reins of gov 
 ernment with a lax and inefficient hand ; for he dis-
 
 CONFUCIUS. 23 
 
 tinctly says, " The beneficence of a prince shines 
 not less in the rigors he exercises, than in the most 
 affecting proofs of his goodness." 
 
 In the analysis of his political views, it is not a 
 little remarkable that the idea of individual self- 
 government should have been the basis of all his 
 wisdom. He began with the individual man. In 
 the perfect self-control gained by one man, he saw 
 the symbol of government for the state, the empire, 
 and the world. And Avhy not ? Is not right and 
 justice in one man the universal right and justice ? 
 Thus runs a paragraph of the Tahio : 
 
 " A prince, who wished to conquer the whole empire to 
 innocence and truth, applied himself assiduously to govern 
 well his states. He began by putting his house in good 
 order ; his chief care was to regulate his conduct ; he 
 applied himself, above all, to rectify his inclinations ; he 
 labored very much to invigorate his resolutions ; in order 
 to strengthen his resolutions, he strove to establish his 
 thoughts; finally, to establish his thoughts, he aspired to 
 reasoning, even to the primal origin and final end of all 
 creatures, and formed to himself a clear idea. 
 
 " In effect, the clear idea of the origin and the end of 
 all creatures established his thoughts ; his thoughts being 
 established, these strengthened his resolutions ; his reso 
 lutions being confirmed, these served to rectify his in 
 clinations ; his inclinations being corrected, these served 
 to regulate his conduct ; his conduct being rightly ordered, 
 it was easy to put his house in good order ; the good 
 order reigning in his house facilitated the good admini 
 stration of his states ; and his states, finally, being well 
 governed, gave tone to the whole empire, and virtue was 
 made to flourish."
 
 24 CONFUCIUS. 
 
 The author of these thoughts evidently saw in 
 one the elements of all. He saw that nothing was 
 done in the science of self-government, until there 
 was permanence and continuity of thought ; nor can 
 it strike us as other than an extraordinary idea, that 
 he should recommend the study of the universe in the 
 relation of cause and effect as the best mode of ac 
 quiring order and clearness in the intellectual opera 
 tions, without which self-control is utterly impossible. 
 
 We now take leave of Confucius as the statesman ; 
 remarking simply, that, rare as it is to find the moral 
 philosopher under the garb of the statesman, the 
 union of the two is by no means unnatural. Selfish 
 ness and craft were as common to the politics of his 
 day as they are to ours. But from that selfish level, 
 Confucius towered upward as a mountain from the 
 plain. 
 
 Though the love of nature distinguished him, as it 
 does all harmonious minds, he did not cover his 
 ideas with a profuseness of symbol. Indeed, his use 
 of imagery is very limited, much more so than is 
 common to the genius of Oriental minds ; sensible 
 objects coming in here and there as mere illustra 
 tion. His thoughts come to us in the abstract and 
 spiritual form, though he often finds the happiest 
 comparisons. For instance, he asked the fowlers, 
 busy with snares, if they caught, the young birds. 
 " No," said they, " not while the old birds are with 
 them. If these were away, we could easily catch 
 the young." " True," responded Confucius, " it is 
 so with all : take away the wisdom of ages, and we 
 are easily ensnared."
 
 CONFUCIUS. 25 
 
 Though, like Socrates, Confucius soared into the 
 pure empyrean of moral science, he was not without 
 his speculations on the material universe. He grap 
 pled somewhat with the same difficulties as did the 
 intellectual Greek, on the origin of matter. To him 
 nothing was nothing ; and as something never springs 
 from nothing, he asserted the eternity of material 
 substance. He contemplated the universe as one 
 animated system, composed of one matter and one 
 spiritual being, of which each thing is an emanation, 
 and to which every living thing returns, when sepa 
 rated by death from its particular material part. 
 Thus, the tree and flower are emanations ; and 
 there is that in each which lives on, which returns to 
 the emanating cause, after dissolution occurs. Zoro 
 aster said that fire was the best emblem of the 
 Divinity ; but Confucius represented Tien under no 
 distinct image. His was the purely spiritual concep 
 tion ; the sun, moon, and stars, being but agencies. 
 "When Li-la-kiun asserted the multiplicity of gods, 
 Confucius opposed and arrested the tide of idolatry 
 which began to overflow. 
 
 What most strikes us in Confucius is the harmony 
 of all his powers. He speaks like a man of well- 
 balanced faculties. His strength did not grow up 
 into one idea or one virtue. He would have the 
 character well poised, like the stars in space. He 
 was himself celebrated for his equanimity under 
 every reverse of fortune. He was passionately fond 
 of music. Hoanhee, the military chieftain, violently 
 attacked his person ; but his serenity was not dis 
 turbed. As an illustration of the mental harmony
 
 26 CONFUCIUS. 
 
 we have ascribed to him, we may adduce his view 
 of the " constant medium," or just mean, to which 
 he said the sage should ever aspire. By this he 
 meant the avoidance of extremes, of the too much 
 and the too little, in every direction, as the way to 
 gain the proportion essential to perfection. We will 
 quote a paragraph of the Tchong-yong. 
 
 " Whilst the passions, quiet and composed, restrain life 
 under the sway of reason, the whole mind is in a calm 
 profound ; and this calmness is called the constant medium. 
 If their excitement and their sallies attract him not beyond 
 bounds, this new state is called harmony. The constant 
 medium is as the foundation and the support of this vast 
 universe. Harmony is the grand rule and true bond. 
 From the perfection of these two descend, as from their 
 source, the repose of the world and the life of being." 
 Again : " The sage keeps a just mean in all things. 
 The insensible remove it." " Oh! this constant medium is 
 grand and sublime ; but how few are able to keep it for a 
 long time ! " 
 
 Art, labor, and courage, are constantly required. 
 Thus discoursed Confucius on the just mean, com 
 paring its tranquillity to the tops of lofty mountains, 
 above the lightning's gleam and the tempest's rage. 
 
 The saints more than the sages of Confucius are 
 remarkable men ; for they have not departed from 
 the right reason and innocence that Tien gave to all 
 mankind. His are the saints of reason, who have 
 never forsaken its light. Sanctity is but the com 
 pleteness of virtue ; and sympathy, according to his 
 philosophy, must never be impulsive. His sage 
 never sheds tears at the death of friends. The philo-
 
 CONFUCIUS. 27 
 
 sopher himself once wept when a favorite disciple 
 was taken away, for which he afterwards apologized 
 by saying that he had forgotten himself. Indeed, the 
 Chinese never say that their friend " has died," but 
 that " he has returned to his family." Thus did the 
 teaching of Confucius occasionally border on the 
 snows of that frigid clime where dwell the Stoic and 
 his pride. 
 
 Throughout his doctrine there flows an exalted 
 view of human nature. He was deeply conscious 
 of its worth. We do not know, however, that he' 
 was in any degree original in the conception or ex 
 pression of this truth ; for in the popular faith of 
 China this idea generally prevails, and there is no 
 evidence that he first expressed it. Perhaps the fol 
 lowing, from the Chinese " Classical Books," fairly 
 embodies the general idea on this topic : " All 
 things are contained complete within ourselves. 
 There is no greater joy than to turn round upon 
 ourselves, and become perfect." Confucius recog 
 nizes the moral wealth of humanity in all his appeals 
 to the moral law which Heaven has engraved on the 
 human heart. The one expression in the Lun-yu, 
 " Man is born right," clearly reveals his exalted 
 opinion of human nature ; and the fact, that the vir 
 tues he describes are not a foreign, but a natural 
 growth of what all souls contain, looks plainly in the 
 same direction. The language ascribed to him in 
 the " Ancient Fragments " is, " The natural light 
 is only a perpetual conformity of our soul with the 
 laws of Heaven. Men can never lose this light. 
 It is true, that, the heart of man being inconstant
 
 28 CONFUCIUS. 
 
 and wavering, it is sometimes covered over with 
 so many clouds, that the light seems wholly ex 
 tinguished." But he denies that it is in reality ever 
 wholly quenched. 
 
 Confucius condemned men of many words and 
 much profession. " Who is a superior man ? " asked 
 Tse-kung. Confucius answered, "He who first 
 practises his words, and then speaks accordingly." 
 The world is slow to learn, that there is a divine 
 silence, as well as a divine speech. Confucius saw 
 that Tien spoke through silence a diviner wisdom 
 than words express. He said, 
 
 " Silence is absolutely necessary to the wise man 
 Great speeches, elaborate discourses, pieces of eloquence, 
 ought to be a language unknown to him ; his actions 
 ought to be his language. As for me, I would never speak 
 more. Heaven speaks ; but what language does it use to 
 preach to men ?' That there is a sovereign principle from 
 which all things proceed ; a sovereign principle which 
 makes them to act and move. Its motion is its language ; 
 it reduces the seasons to their time, it agitates nature 5 
 it makes it produce. This silence is eloquent." 
 
 His sage is an eloquent speaker only when his 
 oration is composed of eloquent deeds. 
 
 The immortality of the Milesian wise man was 
 well vested in the deathless saying, " Know thyself, ' r 
 since self-knowledge is father to self-government. 
 But a greater than Thales speaks in the Confucian 
 precept, " Conquer thyself; " for self-conquest is the 
 end, and self-knowledge the means. " To conquer 
 thyself is only to do what is agreeable to reason,"
 
 CONFUCIUS. d 
 
 Many are the roads that lead to virtue, all of which 
 the wise should know. This proves that the philo 
 sopher had no one exclusive mould in which to run 
 the good man. 
 
 As lying at the bottom of all soundness, sincerity 
 occupies a prominent place in his teaching. What 
 else can give naturalness, force, and efficiency to 
 character ? Sincerity, the simplest of all the virtues, 
 is the rock of every heroic structure, the spring and 
 fountain of all that is sublime or beautiful in hu 
 man history. Much does this Confucius discourse 
 upon it. 
 
 " Sincerity is to perfect one's self. Taon (reason) is 
 what men ought to practise. Sincerity is the origin and 
 consummation of things. Without sincerity there would 
 be nothing. Hence the superior man considers sincerity 
 of much importance." 
 
 <:--r gflol^i cn-rf 
 
 Sounding brass and tinkling cymbal are we all 
 without it. But this virtue, according to the sage, 
 may be inherent, and intelligence may lead to it. 
 
 " From inherent sincerity, to have perfect intelligence 
 is to be a sage by nature ; to attain sincerity by means 
 of intelligence is to be such by study. Where there is 
 sincerity, there must be intelligence ; where intelligence 
 is, it must lead to sincerity." 
 
 This also creates the discriminating sage, gives 
 him self-reliance, and enables him to carry Paradise 
 in his bosom. 
 
 " It is only he who possesses the highest sincerity 
 nnder heaven who is capable of discriminating and fixing 
 3*
 
 30 CONFUCIUS. 
 
 what are the proper duties belonging to each of the human 
 relations, who can establish the great foundation of the 
 empire, and who comprehends the manner in which heaven 
 and earth produce and nourish. Who should such a man 
 rely upon ? How ardent his benevolence ! How vast 
 his heaven ! " 
 
 Confucius has perhaps too elaborately described 
 virtue, which, in his teaching, is a strong, deep, and 
 beautiful power, through which the sage and saint 
 rise superior to pleasure and sorrow. Nothing 
 troubles his man of virtue. And why ? " Because," 
 says he, " he practises not virtue for a reward. The 
 practice of virtue is the sole reward he expects." 
 Confucius made no merchandise of righteousness ; 
 and in the free, spontaneous character he would 
 give to its practice, is he not centuries in advance of 
 some Christian writers, and certainly far beyond 
 Paley, who reckons up the losses and gains, some 
 what as a grocer does his bill, giving the balance to 
 good actions, which, he thinks, should be done " for 
 the sake of everlasting happiness " ? 
 
 " I have never seen any one who loves virtue as 
 we love beauty," said this sage. Beauty charms all 
 eyes. His disciple asked him to define the man of 
 virtue. " He has," replied he, " neither sorrow nor 
 fear." " Does that alone constitute the character ? " 
 continued the learner. " If a man searches within, 
 and finds nothing wrong, need he have either sorrow 
 or fear ? " was the reply. The tree of virtue, in his 
 view, can flourish only by taking deep root in the 
 human heart. It must be cherished by the affections, 
 and cultivated by practice. "It is not enough to
 
 CONFUCIUS. OA 
 
 know virtue, it is necessary to love it ; but it is not 
 sufficient to love it, it is necessary to possess it." 
 But the road to virtue he pronounced long, in which 
 the traveller must advance step by step, until he 
 arrives at the end. Confucius said, " If any one 
 firmly applies his mind to virtue, he does nothing 
 that is low, or contrary to reason." " Virtue is not 
 solitary, nor the likeness of the desert ; usually it has 
 neighbors, worshippers, and followers." 
 
 "What is valor?" demanded Tzelou of Confucius, 
 " Among the people of the South, " answered the sage, 
 " it consists in winning the affections to virtue through 
 beneficence and persuasion, and in disgusting them with 
 vice through patience and gentleness. This is the valor 
 of philosophers. The people of the North place it in 
 sleep, clothing, the bow and the lance, and in meeting 
 danger and death undaunted. This is the valor of heroes. 
 To adhere to complaisance, and never to carry this to the 
 extreme of weakness, to preserve himself upright in the 
 company of the various persons walking at random, and 
 never to yield to any misfortune, to cultivate virtue, 
 to die rather than violate his duty, this is the true force, 
 the valor to which the sage aspires." 
 
 There has not been unfolded by nineteen centuries 
 of Christian progress a worthier conception of the 
 highest form of power and valor possible to man. 
 
 Friendship, in the view of Confucius, is a flower 
 to be cultivated. But if the sage familiarly associ 
 ates with the mass of the people, they will heap 
 indignities upon him. He points out three danger 
 ous friends, the hypocritical, the flattering, and the 
 loquacious ; and, in the limitations he assigned, he
 
 32 CONFUCIUS. 
 
 said, " Never contract friendship with a man who is 
 not better than thyself." Strictly construed, would 
 not this rule preclude all friendship ? The same 
 principle that binds the seeker to find his superior 
 would cause the superior to refuse his overture. Or 
 did the moralist simply mean, that each party con 
 tracting friendship should think the other better than 
 himself ? He instructs his sage to hate several kinds 
 of persons, and especially those who delight to dis 
 course on Jhe faults of others. But of his mild 
 philosophy revenge forms no part. He taught men 
 never to revenge injuries, and never to desire the 
 death of an enemy; though perhaps, through the 
 strong reverence for the parental relation so com 
 mon in China, he admitted an exception to this mild 
 interdiction, when he told the young man not to 
 live under the same heaven with him who had slain 
 his father. 
 
 Reverence to superiors is one of the distinguishing 
 traits of the Confucian morality. In a Chinese great 
 man, we should naturally anticipate the prominence 
 of this view. But Confucius introduces important 
 qualifications. The subject should become a volun 
 tary exile, sooner than live under the corrupting ex 
 ample of a wicked prince ; and sons should acquaint 
 parents with their faults, though it bring down their 
 displeasure. He distinguishes three things which the 
 wise man ought to reverence, namely, " The laws of 
 Heaven, great men, and the words of good men." 
 To these objects of reverence the race must bow; 
 for what more naturally challenges general ho 
 mage ? .
 
 CONFUCIUS. dO 
 
 Love is an eminent characteristic of the great 
 man. It widens with his thought, and partakes of 
 its universality and exaltation. Confucius speaks 
 of love, even the universal love. Justice, in his 
 view, proceeds from it. " The love of the perfect 
 man is a universal love, whose object is all man 
 kind." He dealt in nothing foreign to the soul. 
 The Jove becoming all men, he said, is no stranger 
 to man ^ nay, it is man himself. The Swedish mys 
 tic uttered no falsehood when he said, " Love is the 
 life of man ; " for always as any man's love is, so 
 are 'his conduct and his character. The whole intel 
 lect of every man obeys his love. Thought ever 
 goes at its bidding. Even our dreams are not out 
 of its sway. He who keeps a pure love has nothing 
 to fear. Every thing else is of necessity right. 
 Confucius said, that it is the good man alone who 
 is able either to love or to hate with reason. " He 
 who persecutes a good man," said he, " makes war 
 against Heaven." The good man is one with Tien : 
 if you persecute the former, you take up arms 
 against the latter. In the mirror of this idea, may 
 not the bigotry of Christendom behold its image ? 
 
 Patriotism, which, to say the least, is a natural 
 feeling, since every man is formed more by his par 
 ticular country than by the whole world, is sanctioned 
 by Confucius. He told his disciples freely to expose 
 themselves, when their country's safety demanded. 
 
 We find in the writings of Confucius the golden 
 rule in two forms, the negative and the positive. In 
 the Tchong-yong it occurs in the negative form. 
 Men are there encouraged to approximate to wis-
 
 34 CONFUCIUS. 
 
 dom ; and its first lesson is thus announced : " Do 
 not to any one that which you do not wish should be 
 done to you." This proves that the positive law had 
 been discovered, out of which the negative precept 
 sprang. It is also said by some authors of good re 
 pute, that the great precept is positively announced, 
 " Do unto others as ye would that they should do 
 unto you." This sunbeam, which darted from the 
 moral nature of man nearly twenty-four centuries 
 ago, is the brightest ray of human duty. It is won 
 derfully simple, though it partakes of the greatness 
 of a universal law. The Divine Teacher of Judea 
 gave out the same thought, as the great law of social 
 justice, as the end and substance of the LaAV and the 
 Prophets. 
 
 We would not present Confucius as a faultless 
 philosopher. This moment our eye rests on a pas 
 sage to us untrue. The sage who has faults that 
 will be noticed, he instructs to " cover himself as 
 with a cloud." But true virtue acts nobly from its 
 own impulses; all excellence holds a measure of 
 spontaneity in it. Yet the teaching of Confucius 
 constantly tends to make men better ; and, if his 
 mission may be summed up in a few words, it was 
 to teach mankind the useful science of being good. 
 He relied on no mystic words or acts, but taught 
 plainly, that, if men would learn to die well, they 
 must first learn to live well. 
 
 As personal form, properly understood, is the 
 biography and image of indwelling mind, we would 
 know the personal appearance of this wonderful 
 man. His figure had fine proportions. He was tall
 
 CONFUCIUS. 35 
 
 and stately. His eyes were large and well formed. 
 His countenance had an olive complexion, with 
 beard long and black. His chest was broad, indi 
 cating the power of the arterial system, and his voice 
 had force and sharpness. The extraordinary projec 
 tion of his forehead caused his father, in sport, to call 
 him, when young, Kieoo, or " the little hill." This 
 potent organism, sustained through a long life the 
 ceaseless action of his gigantic mind. His disciples 
 testify that he was in manners mild, affable, and 
 bland, and at the same time venerable and composed. 
 He w-as regardful of others, kind, and reverent. 
 When he reasoned and reproved, he was grave and 
 severe. 
 
 We have alluded to his last days as being full of 
 sorrow on account of his hopeless country. " The 
 mountain is fallen," exclaimed the despairing philo 
 sopher, " the high machine is demolished, and all the 
 sages have disappeared. The kings refuse to follow 
 my maxims ; and, since I am no longer useful on 
 earth, it is well that I leave it." He then fell into a 
 lethargic state, which continued seven days, when 
 the hoary sage closed his eyes for ever to a world 
 which to him had a sunless horizon, so far as its 
 reformation was concerned. 
 
 Still, Confucius is the Chinese great man, though 
 the property of all. The great veneration for the 
 past, the reverence for superiors, the calm spirit, 
 the strong imitation and wonder, the peculiar com 
 bination of imagination and taste, tending to a re 
 dundant description, these traits of his race unite 
 in shedding their colors upon his mind. The moun-
 
 36 CONFUCIUS. 
 
 tain exhibits the soil of the surrounding plain, and 
 more than reveals its internal wealth. The great 
 man, however high above, ever represents the com 
 mon mass. That Confucius shared in his country 
 men's love of the marvellous, is evident in this, that 
 a species of divination, by which the future might be 
 known, held a place in his confidence, whilst he 
 sometimes spoke of the invisible spirits surrounding 
 us, and of the protection they extend to men. Even 
 Socrates admitted that the gods gave signs. 
 
 The Chinese hues of his genius appear, we think, 
 particularly in his elaborate delineation of virtue, 
 and in his frequent advice to imitate the wise and 
 the good. 
 
 Both the sage and the saint of Confucius are por 
 trayed in a thousand beautiful ways ; and so perfect 
 is the finish, that they appear as the polished speci 
 mens of fine art. They are too nice. The perfect 
 in character needs no marks of great elaboration. 
 In a story where the facts of life are so grouped 
 together as to present a living goodness is the perfect 
 in character best given. We prefer the simple para 
 ble of Jesus to the finely wrought picture of Confu 
 cius. Perfection, to be such, should not be conscious 
 of itself. Shakspeare was probably far less con 
 scious of genius than are the common scribblers. 
 Perfect health is scarcely sensible of a stomach, a 
 lung, or a spine. These remarks do not refer to 
 Confucius personally, for he often disclaimed the 
 praises bestowed upon him. And, although he says 
 that virtue in the sage is so natural that it appears to 
 be unnoticed by himself, and that his modesty
 
 CONFUCIUS. t>7 
 
 eclipses his virtues, we are unable to follow his nu 
 merous delineations of the wise and good, without 
 discovering on the costume in which they are arrayed 
 a tinge of the Chinese, that is to say, too much of 
 the artistic. 
 
 He exhorts the aspirant to virtue to imitate the 
 wise and the good, though never without discretion. 
 He makes free use of the term " imitation." But 
 there is an original genius in each man's nature, 
 worth infinitely more than imitation can bring. The 
 rose and the thorn take up the vigor of the same 
 surrounding nature, but each in its own way. It is 
 thus that all life advances. Each thing, so to speak, 
 transforms according to its own particular genius. 
 No jot of individuality is lost. So with each mind. 
 No good can come but through the transforming 
 power of its own genius and life. It is not the imita 
 tion of wise men and good that we want. We want 
 the wise men, not their likenesses. Jesus never told 
 one man to imitate another. Why imitate Chaou, 
 Ven Vam, Yaou, and Ouen-ouang, when every 
 virtue they had lies infolded in the breast of every 
 youth in China ? Away with imitation ! It never 
 brought any man to virtue. These defects, how 
 ever, do not justify the conclusion, that Confucius 
 was not the great light of heathen antiquity. 
 
 The great and strong will always be contrasted 
 with one another. Nor can we object to this, since 
 character is best known through contrast. Hence 
 Confucius has been compared with Socrates, Moses, 
 Zoroaster, Mohammed, and Jesus. But their spheres 
 were not the same. He differs from all the great 
 
 47977
 
 38 CONFUCIUS. 
 
 religious teachers in this respect, that he claimed no 
 inspiration, attempted no miracles, uttered no pro 
 phecies, and in fact taught no new religion. Zoroas 
 ter occasionally, as it was believed, held converse with 
 the gods, and Mohammed's beast bore him trium 
 phantly, as it was asserted, over many heavens ; but 
 Confucius humbly took his stand on the nature of 
 man and the fitness of things. In his moral ideas, 
 he is environed with a light that Mohammed and 
 Zoroaster do not possess. He certainly soared above 
 the latter in this, that he worshipped the Deity under 
 no physical emblem, and did not, like him, divide 
 the empire of the universe between Ormud and 
 Ahriman, in order to account for the great conflict 
 between good and evil. To him, Tien was One, 
 justly and benevolently ruling over all. That as a 
 metaphysician and dialectician he equalled the fine 
 acuteness and happy utterance of the Greek mind, as 
 represented in Socrates, we presume will not be 
 claimed ; though there is so little known of the real 
 genius of the Chinese language, that very few, we 
 imagine, would undertake to institute a comparison 
 between the two, as mere dialecticians. But, in the 
 peculiar sphere of his greatness, which is that of a 
 moral teacher, we opine that no one will attempt 
 to bring forward his superior from all the lights of 
 antiquity preceding the birth of Christianity. 
 
 A new and fresh conception of the unrivalled 
 greatness, a deeper conviction of the divine inspira 
 tion of Jesus, springs up in the mind that travels over 
 the richest fields of thought occupied by the ancient 
 sages. The contrast perpetually widens. His stand
 
 CONFUCIUS. 39 
 
 was not in the past. He referred to the present, 
 living God as the source of his light, while the 
 whelming ages flowed under his feet. He touched 
 not the state ; but he touched the great springs of life 
 in him from whom the state, with its glory and 
 shame, must ever flow. An empire was no field 
 equal to his plan. The world was his field. No 
 royal birth gave him entrance into palaces, nor 
 secured the patronage of the great. He did not 
 begin with a class. He began with all ; though the 
 common people, being less sophisticated, heard him 
 more gladly. He taught no great homage to earthly 
 superiors ; he taught rather a self-reverence, that 
 refused to call any man master. He was gentle and 
 compassionate to sinners. He advised no man to 
 imitate his neighbor, however good or Avise he might 
 be : human individuality was not invaded. He 
 wrote nothing to perpetuate his teachings. Confucius 
 had hundreds of learned men to propagate his views ; 
 Jesus, while living, had but a few humble, unedu 
 cated peasants around him, not half understanding 
 his purpose and mission. Confucius was learned ; 
 Jesus by human institutions was wholy untaught. 
 The one was aided by veneration for the past ; the 
 other was violently opposed and persecuted by it. 
 Confucius unfolded his mild philosophy among a 
 people as peaceful as himself ; Jesus gave the lessons 
 of peace at a time when all hearts were burning for 
 revolution, and among a people constitutionally and 
 habitually inclined to revenge. The one said, " Re 
 venge not injuries ; " the other said, " Love your 
 enemies."
 
 40 CONFUCIUS. 
 
 Behold the contrast between the personal faith of 
 these two teachers ! The one sorrowed and mourned 
 the three last years of his life, because he could not, 
 as he thought, be useful. We respect the sorrow, 
 for none but a noble spirit could have had it. He 
 died in this despair. The other, though beaten by 
 the storm of human passion, though deeply moved 
 by the overwhelming sense of coming woe, and 
 though foreseeing the certainty of a death marked 
 with shame and violence, saw clearly through the 
 blackness of cloud and storm to the sun itself, and 
 felt himself glorified in its light, felt that the hour 
 was come. He spoke of his death as his glorifica 
 tion, and always had he cherished a deep conscious 
 ness of the certain victorious results of his labor and 
 mission. Confucius enjoyed half a century of years, 
 in which to mature his wisdom and deepen his in 
 fluence. The public life of Jesus numbered but 
 about three years, probably not that, and his 
 thought the profoundest have not yet measured, 
 the ages have not yet compassed. How powerfully 
 his words have wrought ! All the civilizations and 
 reforms of the earth are judged by them. HOAV 
 mighty that pure life of his ! It is still the reproof of 
 all other lives. In the simple and beautiful majesty 
 of his mind, earth's noblest sons are poor indeed. 
 Yet, while we ascribe to Jesus an inspiration and 
 authority to which Confucius laid no claim, it is 
 beautiful to see the reformer of China evolving some 
 of the same universal truths which the Saviour of 
 mankind taught, and which, like the ever-tranquil 
 stars, brighten the firmament of moral science and of
 
 CONFUCIUS. 41 
 
 human happiness. From all we know of Confucius, 
 we love and revere him. We admire his attachment 
 to moral ideas. His life teaches the moral wealth of 
 human nature, not less in our own age than in the 
 remote period to which his name belongs.
 
 42 
 
 C H A N N I N G. 
 
 THIS man, it appears, belongs to the age far more 
 than to any party or sect. The atmosphere of uni 
 versal interest surrounds him. In such a name we 
 all own property. There is a profound reverence 
 created by the singular purity and elevation of his 
 character, when living, to which the differences of 
 opposing schools and parties seem to be no consid 
 erable barriers. He triumphs over the prejudices of 
 opinion, whilst the settled conviction remains that in 
 some way W. E. Channing was an extraordinary 
 man ; although perhaps, from the marked simplicity 
 and naturalness of his character, few may have 
 paused to analyze a greatness so simple and so 
 familiar. Indeed, he absorbs the whole mind so thor 
 oughly in his themes whenever he is approached, 
 that there is little time to investigate the man. 
 
 We had supposed, that the life of Channing, so far 
 as it is needful for such a life to be known, was 
 sufficiently embodied in his published writings. We 
 had imagined, that the best possible biography of 
 such a mind is the thought it had given, and the 
 spirit it had breathed. And this is true. But, hav 
 ing just arisen from the perusal of his Memoirs in 
 three volumes, we are prepared to say, that much
 
 CHANNING. 43 
 
 new light is shed, not only from, but also upon, the 
 subject of this article. In the facts here collected, 
 we learn more of the different stages of his con 
 sistent progress, the birth of some of the new ideas 
 which held dominion over his life ; and, through the 
 freedom of many incidents and utterances, which 
 could have held no place in his more elaborate men 
 tal creations, we come more freely into his mind and 
 heart. We welcome these volumes as a good con 
 tribution to American literature ; and particularly 
 do we value them for the various and ample manner 
 in which Dr. Channing is permitted to lay open his 
 own mind through the many letters, conversations, 
 and quotations they contain. So much indeed does 
 Channing himself speak from these volumes, that 
 they are almost an autobiography. 
 
 The worth of such a life is various. We share 
 the character of the objects we habitually behold. 
 And, though the immensity and beauty of the natural 
 world impress us in a manner that favors the high 
 and generous aspiration, there is no object so elevat 
 ing and so inspiring as the character of a truly good 
 and great man. He touches all our inward springs. 
 He penetrates, enlightens, reproves, and encourages 
 us. A high and pure life carries us upward. It is 
 the beautiful solution of the problem of faith. There 
 is great worth in its reproof; still more in the en 
 couragement it ministers. For such reasons, the 
 life of Channing should be studied ; for it was most 
 sincerely, faithfully, and, we may add, successfully 
 devoted to truth and goodness. We would be blessed 
 not only by the purifying influence of such a life,
 
 44 CHANNING. 
 
 but we would seek expansion in its ever-widening 
 spirit. As the greatness of Channing is silent, and 
 of the spirit wholly, it is only in our tranquil moods 
 that Ave realize him. Noise never follows the name 
 of Washington, because it lies too deep in the calm 
 fountain of reverence. Neither can we know Chan 
 ning through any worldly views of greatness. It 
 is only through the serene depths of conscience, 
 thought, and love, that we know and enjoy a mind 
 like his. 
 
 The religion, ethics, literature, and social reform 
 of the age have each received the impress of his 
 mind. As man was his great theme, his traces are 
 left on all the great questions of human interest. 
 Hence that breadth of thought and influence which 
 almost forbids us to think of Channing as a profes 
 sional character. As we walk over the green fields 
 of truth through which he leads the way, we listen 
 to the theologian, the Literary man, the moral philo 
 sopher, and the philanthropist. He becomes as wide 
 as human duty, suffering, virtue, and hope. But in 
 every mind there is a central truth balancing the 
 rest ; as, in each solar system in the boundless space, 
 there is a supreme and governing orb. There is a 
 centre of attraction to all minds, as truly as to all 
 globes ; and the predominating element in the char 
 acter of Channing no one can fail to see. It is as 
 the sun. 
 
 Supreme over all his other tendencies is the moral. 
 He perpetually saw the moral expression of things, 
 and always regarded the conscience as the central 
 poAver of the soul, around which the whole life
 
 CHANNING. 45 
 
 should revolve. Human nature, he could never 
 view from its outward conditions chiefly, but from 
 its spiritual powers, its moral wealth. In man he 
 saw the end of being, which is the perfection of all his 
 spiritual powers. Nature, he said, in its boundless 
 ministries, is ahvays the servant of this. The state, 
 the law, the schools, the church, all nature and all 
 providence, to his eye, were but means to this end, 
 and valueless without it. This predominance of the 
 ethical in simplicity and majesty is the sublime and 
 beautifying fact of Channing's character and influ 
 ences. 
 
 And is it not true, that a character thus combined 
 is most in harmony with the universe and with God ? 
 For, in the enlightened conception of the Deity, the 
 idea that prevails over all others is that of his perfect 
 goodness, to which the whole infinitude of divine 
 means but constantly ministers. "Wisdom and power 
 obey its dictates, and for ever seek to fulfil its ends. 
 And, if this is true of God, the universe, properly 
 interpreted, must reveal the same truth ; for, pro 
 ceeding from him in the order of creation, it neces 
 sarily bears the impress of his mind. Such also, and 
 for the same reason, must be true of the constitu 
 tional nature of man, and will brightly appear in the 
 same proportion as perfection of character is ac 
 quired. He therefore in whom this idea prevails, 
 stands in most perfect harmony with the universe 
 and its Creator, and is best fitted, with suitable gifts 
 of intellect, to receive the highest influx of truth ; 
 nor can any one, however gifted with talents and 
 genius, take the highest and the best views of man,
 
 46 CHANNING. 
 
 life, nature, and God, in whom the idea of goodness 
 is not first. It is possible, however, in the fulness of 
 idealism, for this element to exist out of due harmony 
 with the rest, to be made too isolated and imperfect 
 for realization. 
 
 As man was the end of the universe in the sacred 
 philosophy of Channing, so he became the end of all 
 his labors ; reformation and progress being his great 
 and earnest themes. The soul was his great idea, 
 his constant hope. We have alluded to the idea of 
 Right, as being the great light in the heavens of our 
 higher powers ; but the whole soul was to him equally 
 precious and dear, to which he looked as the ulterior 
 fact, through all causes and systems that came before 
 him. The dignity of human nature was always well 
 sustained in his discourse ; whilst his faith in the ca 
 pacity and wealth of humanity gained strength even 
 from the very sources which to most persons are a 
 gloomy discouragement, the errors and sins by 
 which they are darkened and obscured ; for a being 
 who could err so widely, who could violate such 
 high and perfect laws, and be conscious of the con 
 demning voice of Right, proves the alliance of his 
 nature with that from which he strays. Great ruins 
 imply a great grandeur. To one so deeply con 
 vinced of the worth and power of human capacity, 
 the lustre of the gem would appear in a thousand 
 facts and incidents of life, which, to other observers, 
 might speak nothing of the soul's greatness. The 
 vast range' of nature and providence pay tribute to 
 this view. All things seem to address the soul, to pay 
 it homage, by so affecting it as to invigorate its reason
 
 CHANNING. 47 
 
 by various truth, order, and law ; by speaking of 
 endless beauty, by impressing on it the image of all 
 material magnificence, and by the many spiritual 
 suggestions that the ministries of the natural world 
 
 oo 
 
 constantly yield. All life, too, its sorrows and suc 
 cesses, its aspirations, and its fears, all imply the 
 same homage to his superiority ; for all aim at his 
 good. Is there not something great in a being into 
 whose education all things enter, for whom such a 
 vast and complicated system constantly operates ? 
 
 Nor was this view a speculation of philosophy to 
 him, but was really his hope in the darkest hour of 
 social evils. It fed his philanthropy, his love of lib 
 erty, his reverential manners to others ; it supported 
 his practical charity, his zeal for popular education 
 and improvement, and strengthened every tie that 
 bound him to the human race. Indeed, what less 
 can such faith in real action accomplish ? In all 
 effort at human emancipation from evil, lies the idea 
 of human worth, Avhich animates and inspires the 
 action ; which taken away, all noble enthusiasm is 
 palsied, and all generous effort disappears. But, 
 with this remaining, through a few means, wonders 
 may be done. 
 
 Dr. Channing has been accused of exalting human 
 nature too much, of almost deifying its powers. 
 That his idea is higher than the nature will warrant, 
 many, and perhaps some of his warm admirers, may 
 affirm. This is the great charge, and should there 
 fore receive the first notice. We are aware that 
 this is a subject quite liable to confusion of thoughts; 
 for most persons will set doAvn what one may say of
 
 48 CHANNING. 
 
 human nature to the account of human character or 
 to both, without a very discriminating distinction 
 between the two. Bad culture will be brought for 
 ward in proof of the sad quality of the soil. But this 
 is only one source of unhappy judgments. The 
 disposition to judge of human nature from its par 
 tial and lower manifestations, as if these were all, 
 builds up an erroneous decision. A ivhole, in such 
 a various nature as ours, can never be judged of by 
 a part ; and especially is it perilous so to judge, when 
 that part is perverted from its natural and rightful 
 loyalty to the higher powers. There should be a 
 clear penetration of the whole soul, a sounding of 
 its mysterious depths, a knowledge of all its great 
 moral aspirations and conflicts, which indeed it is 
 very difficult to possess. Man is not as a tree, the 
 whole of whose fruit may be known in the taste of 
 a single production. But, without pausing to argue 
 the question of human nature, we would place the 
 charge brought against Dr. Channing on this ground. 
 His idea is greater, it is alleged, than the nature will 
 warrant. But whence came his idea of this superior 
 excellence ? Did it not proceed from his own mind ? 
 This will at once be granted. Then his nature was 
 equal to the idea, or it could not have proceeded from 
 it. No stream is greater than its fountain. If his 
 nature was not unequal to the idea, neither is ours ; 
 for all are equally human. Moreover, when we 
 condemn this lofty ideal, we do so on the ground that 
 we understand it, that we realize its grandeur as 
 being too great for what we see. Now that we 
 realize even this idea, so far as to feel the vast dis-
 
 CHANNING. 49 
 
 parity between it and what we discover in human 
 attainment, proves that there is nothing in it but that 
 which finds an equal and a judge in the soul itself. 
 We hold that error can be condemned only on the 
 ground, that a standard of truth exists in the mind 
 by which it is condemned ; and that degradation can 
 be affirmed only through the presence within, of a 
 standard of elevation to which the mind of him who 
 judges is competent. Is the soul less than the stan 
 dard it comprehends ? Impossible. It seems to us, 
 that, if all who discuss this subject would pause to 
 consider that the nobler self from which they judge 
 is as much and as truly included in the idea of 
 human nature as are the passions by whose per 
 verted action they are shocked, and would they 
 distinguish between what is said on the possibilities 
 of the soul and what is attained through a partial and 
 negligent practice, much dispute and difference might 
 be avoided. 
 
 But let us, before we condemn, hear the view we 
 examine as set forth in the author's words : 
 
 " One of the great characteristics of the present day is 
 a lowness, a sordidness, a frigidness of thought and feel 
 ing. Men think meanly of their nature, and hence their 
 conduct is selfish and earthly. We do not, indeed, see 
 men in general given up to gross vices. We do not meet 
 around us the ferocity or beastly licentiousness of the 
 savage state. We find many marks of improvement, 
 when we compare the present with earlier ages. But 
 there is little elevation of sentiment. Comparatively few 
 seem to be conscious of their original, their capacities of 
 excellence, their relation to God, their interest in eternity. 
 6
 
 50 CHANNING. 
 
 " Blessed be God, in the history of every age and 
 nation, amidst the ravages of ambition and the mean aims 
 of selfishness, there have broken forth nobler sentiments, 
 and the evidences of a heavenly virtue. Every age has 
 been illustrated by men who bore themselves like men, 
 and vindicated the cause of human nature ; men who, 
 in circumstances of great trial, have adhered to moral and 
 religious principle, to the cause of persecuted truth, to 
 the interests of humanity, to the hope of immortality ; 
 who have trodden under foot the fairest gifts of fortune 
 and the world, in the pursuit of duty. It has often 
 pleased God to gather around these men the clouds of 
 adversity, that their virtues might shine with a sublimer 
 splendor. This is the greatest value of history, that it 
 introduces us to persons of this illustrious order ; and its 
 noblest use is, by their examples, to nourish in us a con 
 viction, that elevated purity of motive and conduct is not 
 a dream of fancy, but that it is placed within our reach, and 
 is the very end of being." Memoirs, vol. ii. pp. 28, 29. 
 
 Open his pages where you will, your eye rests on 
 some expression of this sentiment. But to give the 
 reader a more various representation of this leading 
 view, in unison with the practical results with which 
 it stands connected, we offer the following para 
 graphs : 
 
 " All our inquiries in morals, religion, politics, must 
 begin with human nature. The ends for which a being 
 is made, his relations, his true course of conduct, depend 
 upon his nature. To comprehend the former, we must 
 understand the latter. Accordingly, certain views of 
 man are involved in all speculations about the objects 
 of life, and the proper sphere of human action. On such
 
 CHANNING. Ol 
 
 views all schemes of society and legislation are built. 
 Every great statesman, every reformer who has introduced 
 a revolution in the affairs of nations, has been impelled 
 and guided by his estimate of man. It is the want of a 
 true science of our nature that has vitiated all past sys 
 tems of government, morals, and religion. No book can 
 be written wisely, no plan wisely formed for the improve 
 ment of mankind, which has not its origin in just rever 
 ence of the powers of the human spirit. And not only is 
 it true that morals, religion, and politics, in their applica 
 tion to masses of men, must have their foundation in 
 certain views of human nature ; but every individual's 
 principles, his whole system of duty, will take its charac 
 ter from the light in which he regards himself and his 
 race. All the relations of life will wear different aspects 
 to men who interpret differently the beings by whom they 
 are sustained. 
 
 " Just views of human nature are, then, all-important. 
 In comprehending man, we comprehend God, Duty, Life, 
 Death, Providence ; we have the key to the divine admin 
 istration of the world. In proportion as man is made 
 known to us, we learn why he was placed upon earth, 
 and see the explanation of the discipline which is appointed 
 him here. The mysteries of his childhood, progress, and 
 maturity, of his joys and sorrows, of his temptations 
 and sins, gradually 'clear away. Even material nature 
 becomes revealed to us in a new light. In proportion as 
 we understand man, God's greatest work, we under 
 stand inferior creation ; we discover new adaptations of 
 the outward and the inward worlds, new analogies between 
 nature and the human spirit : the unity of the universe 
 dawns upon us." Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 404. 
 
 " Exertion supposes that good may be attained, and 
 vigorous exertion supposes that the mind is kindled by
 
 52 CHANNING. 
 
 the prospect of great attainments. What can you expect 
 from him who sees nothing in the future better than the 
 past ? On the other hand, a belief in the capacities and 
 dignity of humanity, a belief of its future glory, a belief 
 that higher excellence is the very end for which we were 
 made, is a spring of generous and unwearied activity. 
 This faith, when deeply fixed in the mind, is a pledge 
 and earnest of the improvement to which it aspires. It 
 awakens new power in the soul. It gives a natural dig 
 nity to the thoughts and actions, and produces an almost 
 involuntary abstinence from all that is false and selfish." 
 Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 31. 
 
 This is enough. It is plain that the exalted view 
 of human nature which holds the highest place 
 among his thoughts is no mere philosophical specu 
 lation, but is a portion of his own spiritual life. Al 
 though no subject has more dignity and richness as 
 a purely intellectual theme, yet it is far more inter 
 esting to us, coming as a cheering light into our 
 discouragement, and as an exhortation arousing us 
 to courage and to effort. Deep was this faith in 
 human capacity in the inward life of Channing. 
 Everywhere its evidences appear. The great sen 
 timent taking hold of his mind at the age of fifteen, 
 in the rapturous glow and generosity of youth, it 
 had a long time in which to become vigorous and 
 perfect ; whilst the peculiarity of his mind, that 
 brought to all the important convictions of the intel 
 lect the life of the soul, prevented this great idea from 
 taking root exclusively in the grounds of speculation. 
 Hence it is always clothed with the beauty and 
 freshness of the soul itself.
 
 CHANNING. 
 
 But this subject should not be dismissed without 
 a mutual appreciation of the fact, that man can do 
 nothing, and hope nothing, except that for which his 
 nature is sufficient. All that any one has for weal 
 or for woe is his nature, from which proceeds all 
 that he can do, aided by outward means. Omnipo 
 tence itself can carry no being forward further than 
 his capacity admits. The means, whatever they are, 
 become effectual only from previous ability to know 
 and wield them ; whilst it is self-evident that man 
 must be greater than his means, or they can be of no 
 service. 
 
 But in the full and earnest assertion of human 
 dignity is implied at least a comparatively low state 
 of human nature. Else where is the necessity of 
 vindication ? Who need to assert the brightness 
 of the sun, the genius of Shakspeare, or the royal 
 dignity of a well and long-established throne ? These 
 speak so plainly for themselves, that they accuse the 
 vindicator of folly. The truth is, that in this early 
 and grosser school of humanity, in which the spiritual 
 is bound by the material with its appetites and pas 
 sions, and in which so much ignorance, weakness, 
 and unexplained misery obtains, and especially 
 where there are so many vices and conflicts, the 
 dignity of humanity must be seen through many 
 clouds. Its brightness is overshadowed by appear 
 ance and by fact. The antagonism of the appetites 
 and passions to the high moral force, though neces 
 sary to the formation of vigorous character, strikes 
 many as the proof of abasement ; whereas it only 
 teaches, that man comes into being with character 
 5*
 
 54 CHANNING. 
 
 unformed, and that great and opposing elements of 
 nature are given, that greatness of character may be 
 made possible. It is only when the noble and gen 
 erous character is formed, that the promise of nature 
 is fulfilled. As we would judge a vegetable race, 
 not from its stinted, but from its perfect growths, so 
 would we judge of humanity, not from its failures, 
 but from its successes ; from all its good men and 
 true ; from its Washingtons, Fenelons, and Newtons ; 
 from all who subdue themselves to the laws of their 
 higher life. We cannot but think, that this whole 
 question of human nature, both pro and cow, belongs 
 exclusively to the grosser stages of man's progress, 
 in which the phenomena of life are not interpreted 
 by a literal wisdom, and in which there are great 
 perversions of his powers. AVe sincerely hope for a 
 time, when the brightest displays of human glory 
 will strike none as novel ; when the teacher of men 
 will have no need to seek the evidences that shall 
 convince them of the exalted worth and dignity of 
 their being, no more, indeed, than it is now needful 
 to persuade a Rothschild of his fortunes, or a de 
 scendant of the house of Hapsburg of his royal 
 lineage. Perfect dignity and unobscured needs no 
 advocate. 
 
 But this advocacy, on the part of Dr. Channing, 
 was necessary and in place, not only from the 
 darkness that actually obscures the glory of the soul 
 from the common view, but from the fact, that hu 
 man nature was denounced as evil by the prevailing 
 theology. It was believed to be totally corrupt and 
 disabled. Despotisms then, as now, oppressed the
 
 CHANNING. 
 
 55 
 
 souls and bodies of millions, all implying a basis of 
 irreverence to man. Indeed, it will be long ere this 
 advocacy can be out of place, never, we are sure, 
 till man reveals the glory of his nature in a continu 
 ous series of noble deeds, by a conduct coming up 
 to the possibilities of his higher self. It is certain 
 that this idea needed a distinct representation, that 
 the skeptical doubt and the theological dogma might 
 be alike overwhelmed ; and no truth ever demanded 
 a representative in whom human nature appears 
 in superior excellence more than this. All great 
 teachers are born to bear witness unto the truth ; 
 and it is our conviction, that William Ellery Chan- 
 ning was born to bear particular witness to this truth, 
 against which the vices and the oppressions of ages 
 are strongly arrayed. It cannot be supposed, that, 
 by nature, man is only evil ; for the very verdict of 
 depravity which man passes on himself implies that 
 his standard of comparison and decision is one of 
 goodness, in which he confides, which could not 
 exist in his mind were he totally corrupt and inca 
 pable of good. You cannot account for the ver 
 dict, for its very existence, we mean, without the 
 overthrow of this position. A race totally depraved 
 Avould be incapable of the standards by which to 
 determine the fact. But we would only speak of 
 this matter in the way of common reasoning, not 
 choosing to enter on topics of theological dispute. 
 We speak of Dr. Channing as the best representa 
 tive we know of the idea of the inherent and incal 
 culable worth of human nature, in which light he 
 strikes us almost as an apostle of the human race.
 
 56 
 
 CHANNING. 
 
 Still even here, in the strong-hold of his mental effort, 
 the mild prophet is perhaps more apparent than the 
 strong philosopher ; for usually he gives us his clear 
 convictions, without presenting in full the basis on 
 which his views are made to rest. Perhaps some 
 unpublished philosophical discourses may do this ; 
 and we have strong reason to think that this was the 
 purpose to have been fulfilled by the uncompleted 
 work he had partially laid out on the subject of 
 " Man." 
 
 Having introduced Dr. Channing under the idea, 
 for which his literature is more than by any other 
 distinguished, let us inquire for some of the leading 
 traits of his mind and character ; for in these we 
 shall not only find the mirror of his views, to which 
 they correspond, but we shall share the elevating 
 influence of the traits and virtues we contemplate. 
 
 And the first thought which the contemplation of 
 his character suggests is that of a high moral purity. 
 Influence, indeed, is a very mysterious agency. But 
 we believe it is universally like the objects whence it 
 comes. If the purity of Channing's character may 
 be judged by the influence he exerts on others, 
 even through the distant medium of written com 
 munication, it must be very high. He always speaks 
 as one accustomed to noble and generous motives. 
 He bears us above our selfishness into the region of 
 universal love and justice. The atmosphere of uni 
 versal truth, which is the mountain air of the moral 
 universe, seems to have been his spiritual home; 
 and it is to this elevation that his influences carry us. 
 We arise from his pages unable to define the power
 
 CHANNING. 57 
 
 that has reached us ; but this we know, that, for the 
 time, we have arisen into an empyrean of light and 
 disinterestedness to which society and ourselves a>\: 
 not accustomed. There are moments when eacii 
 and all of us dwell in these higher motives and feel 
 ings ; but it is the distinction of holier ones, that they 
 become natives and citizens of these sacred summits. 
 The character of Channing is a strong character. 
 It is evidently the consistent growth of much labor 
 and of many years. His private papers, containing 
 the record of daily impressions and purposes, ex 
 hibit strong yearnings after the perfect, great 
 watchfulness and care over himself, lest he should 
 not live under the perpetual sway of goodness and 
 truth. 
 
 One great distinction of Dr. Channing is, he loved 
 the truth for its own sake. And when we have said 
 tills, we Ihlrik that a principal trait of his greatness 
 is told. This is the secret of the highest moral 
 power. And how simple and natural is this gener 
 ous feeling of the heart ! Yet many of vigorous 
 intellect gain little power over the souls of men, on 
 account of its absence. Who gives evidence of a 
 stronger confidence in truth ? Few persons ever 
 watched themselves with a more determined purpose 
 to be true to their inward light ; and his most solemn 
 charge to others, " Be true," and " Reverence truth," 
 we believe to be but the simple utterance of what he 
 sought to live, and what his deepest experience 
 approved as divine. This loyalty to strong convic 
 tions, this love of truth for its own sake, kept his 
 mind above the biases of parties, where he could
 
 58 CHANNING. 
 
 contemplate subjects from points of view yielding a 
 wide scope of vision. He feared the shackles of 
 sects and of associated numbers chiefly on this ac 
 count, and would sooner stand alone in the seeking 
 and utterance of truth, unawed and unpledged to 
 any. 
 
 The power of generous, pure affection in bearing 
 up the intellect into a region of higher moral dis 
 covery, in forming a sensibility to truth which secures 
 its possession, and in determining the quality of 
 influence both for the present and the future, displays 
 itself alike striking in his moral philosophy and in 
 ward aspiration. " I long," said he (soon after the 
 choice of his profession), " most earnestly long, to be 
 such a minister as Fenelon describes. What liberty 
 so valuable as liberty of heart ? freedom from 
 sin?" Indeed, Channing was much like Fenelon, 
 with, however, a wider mental vision, and a more 
 philosophical mind. In the purity and transparency 
 of character which belong to him, may we not read 
 the quality and the value of his future influences ? 
 
 We would notice his philanthropy, which, though 
 it shrunk from all noisy display, and sought to oper 
 ate like the beneficent agencies of nature around us, 
 was spiritual, earnest, and strong. It had, of course, 
 a spiritual basis, as had all his hopes for the human 
 race. It was, therefore, in the rescue of the mind, 
 in the wise direction and full development of its 
 powers, that his philanthropy found its chief expres 
 sion. For it is through this that the individual rises 
 to the comprehension of his evils, subdues tempta 
 tion, plans his outward well-being, and realizes the
 
 CHANNING. 
 
 greatest happiness and glory of his nature. To this 
 great end no outward prosperity nor ample supply of 
 physical want could blind his eye. In dealing with 
 the evils of society, he saw their sources in the weak 
 nesses and vices of the mind, and accordingly sought 
 the healing waters from spiritual soil. He saw the 
 awful feature of intemperance, not in the ruin of pro 
 perty, reputation, and health, but in the renunciation 
 of the Reason, in the surrender of manhood to the 
 appetites. This breaking-down of the soul's dignity 
 and power was to him the only evil ; whilst the voice 
 of the outward ruins was but the trumpet of circum 
 stance announcing the inward wrong. The same 
 of slavery. Its cause and curse are in the spirit 
 that enslaves, in the thirst of power and worldly 
 gain ; and the prince of all its evils is the wrong it 
 does to the soul's prerogatives of reason and con 
 science, in the actual denial of the manhood of a 
 human being. War is a tempest of sin, not so much 
 from the abstract loss of animal life and human 
 property, as from the degradation and imbrutement 
 of a human being. Here lay the woful wrong. 
 This characteristic of Channing's reasoning, the dis 
 covery of the great causes as moral, and its corre 
 spondence with his exalted view of human nature, 
 must strike the mind of all his readers. 
 
 There is beauty in the burning ardor and irre 
 pressible enthusiasm of those early years when he 
 longed for a wider plan of usefulness. This feeling 
 to serve mankind, that burst forth so earnestly in his 
 letters from Old Virginia, is so beautifully spontane 
 ous ! " What is man ? " said he. " For what was
 
 60 CHANNING. 
 
 he born ? To vegetate, to draw nutrition from the 
 earth, and then wither away, forgotten and un 
 known ? O no ! He bears a spark of divinity in 
 his bosom ; and it is Promethean fire which animates 
 his clay. Look at the human mind. See it bursting 
 forth, spreading itself through infinite space by its 
 power of receiving ideas from external objects, 
 concentrating immensity in a point, and, by its 
 powers of retrospect and anticipation, concentrating 
 eternity in a moment. Need I mention his faculty 
 of moral discernment, or his creative imagination ? 
 Now, friend, I would ask you, in what does the per 
 fection of man consist ? Which part of his nature 
 requires most care ? From what source is his most 
 rational and permanent happiness derived ? The 
 answer you must make is, ' The mind.' Now let 
 me ask you to look on the world, and show me the 
 man who is engaged in this improvement. All is 
 hurry, all is business. But why this tumult ? " 
 
 " I grant that man is selfish ; but ought he to be so ? 
 Was man framed for himself or for his fellow-men ? On 
 this point of morality I know we shall agree ; and you 
 will think, as I do, that, if we can sxibstitute benevolence 
 for selfishness, we shall add to the sum of human virtue 
 and happiness. Again, ought man to provide most for 
 his body or his mind ? Here, too, we shall agree ; and 
 no doubt you wish to see the love of science take the 
 place of a love of money in the human breast. Now, I 
 think these changes can be effected in the sentiments and 
 feelings of mankind. How ? By education. Judge from 
 your own feelings whether the principle of benevolence or 
 humanity is not so strongly impressed on the heart by
 
 CHANNING. 61 
 
 God himself, that with proper care it might become the 
 principle of action. Judge from your own feelings whe 
 ther the love of science is not founded on so natural a 
 sentiment, I mean curiosity, that with the same care 
 it would pervade every bosom. I declare I believe these 
 ideas to be incontrovertible. Do you not glow at the 
 prospect? Behold the rising virtues attended by truth 
 and wisdom ; peace with her olive branch, compassion 
 with her balm. ! O my friend ! I can go no farther. I 
 feel a noble enthusiasm spreading through my frame ; 
 every nerve is strung, every muscle is laboring ; my bo 
 som pants with a great, half-conceived, and indescribable 
 sentiment ; I seem inspired with a surrounding deity." 
 
 Thus spake the youth. This early philanthropy and 
 faith in man are beautiful and prophetic ; whilst the 
 earnest spiritual fire that flamed out in these last 
 expressions throw much light on his moral tempera 
 ment, which by nature was any thing but coldness. 
 Practical was Channing's benevolence. It always 
 saw the difficulties, and asked the ways and means. 
 Whoever imagines that Dr. Channing's benevolence 
 was ideal, that it exhausted itself in dreamy theoriza- 
 tion on abstract humanity, should read his diary, 
 and learn what most concerned him. Is this moral 
 sentimentalism ? " Things to be done in town. 
 Comfortable houses to be let cheap, for the poor. 
 Innocent and improving amusements. Interesting 
 works to be circulated among them. Poor-house 
 rooms to be better aired. Causes of poverty to be 
 traced. Excite no feeling of dependence. Stimulate 
 to exertion. Relief such as to call out energy, and 
 remove whatever disheartens and disables. How
 
 62 CHANNING. 
 
 much capacity there is in the poorer classes, of know 
 ledge and affection ! Why is it not developed ? " 
 
 Noiseless as comes God's gift of day, did his 
 beneficence go out to others ; nor did his philan 
 thropy wear the least tinge of that professing large 
 ness which loves man most dearly abroad, whilst it 
 neglects him at home. The beautiful fact of Chan- 
 ning's philanthropy is, that it made no unnecessary 
 speeches, is free from pretension, and, instead of 
 seeking embodiment in particular organizations, it 
 went forth in the silent influence of individual 
 thought and action. Great and good is this senti 
 ment of loving man ; and were it to become real 
 and genuine, fewer words would express it to others. 
 We ask the philanthropy that thinks, feels, and ads ; 
 one that can speak when speech is necessary, and 
 certainly one that knows how to be silent. But 
 never can such a philanthropy exist without a deep 
 faith in the worth and sacredness of humanity, as its 
 basis. Nothing less than this can inspire the purpose, 
 " For worlds I would not own a slave." Nothing 
 less can exclaim, " What ! own a spiritual being ! 
 a being made to know and adore God, and who is 
 to outlive sun and stars ! What ! chain to our low 
 est uses a being made for truth and virtue ! Suns 
 and stars may be owned, but not the lowest spirit. 
 Touch any thing but this. Lay not your hand on 
 God's rational offspring. The whole spiritual world 
 cries out, Forbear ! " 
 
 Thus does the view of humanity, which Dr. Chan- 
 ning so ably represents, sustain to his philanthropy 
 the relation of the fountain to its crystal stream.
 
 CHANNING. 
 
 His liberality, which perhaps is but another name 
 for enlargement of mind, his freedom from preju 
 dice, and clear comprehension of the truth and 
 'goodness belonging to all parties, form certainly a 
 bright gem in the beauty of his character. Chan- 
 ning saw as few see the poverty of those limits with 
 which men are usually satisfied ; and, believing in 
 the infinity of truth, and in the progress of man, he 
 could never look upon any sect as being more than 
 a partial manifestation of the true light. He plead 
 the distinction between human goodness and human 
 opinion, however hallowed by time or sanctioned by 
 numbers ; and, under the veil of skepticism, was as 
 willing to acknowledge as to witness the existence 
 of great virtues. Herein was the surprise of Cole 
 ridge, that he should find in the American preacher 
 such freedom from the prejudices common to every 
 school of belief. But this fact, as already observed, 
 is but an affirmation of a thorough and wide com 
 prehensiveness ; for he whose penetrating energy 
 and all-embracing interest are each remarkable, is 
 necessarily free, and often to the dissatisfaction of 
 every party. He whose constant inquiry is, " What 
 is truth ? " and who hearkens to all the objections 
 which silently arise even against settled and favorite 
 positions, can never know the severe bondage of sec 
 tarianism ; and a brief passage of Channing to his 
 friend is so apparent in his character, that we give it 
 a place in our essay. " I owe," said he, " the little 
 which I am to the conscientiousness with which I have 
 listened to objections springing up in my own mind 
 to what I have inclined and sometimes thirsted to be-
 
 64 CHANNING. 
 
 lieve ; and I have attained through this to a serenity 
 of faith that once seemed denied in the present 
 state." 
 
 The liberality of his mind was aided, we think, by 
 his doctrine of progress. No man should say, " I 
 have formed my system," and there rest contented. 
 Believing that Nature and Christianity are but par 
 tially known, and regarding the soul as formed for 
 endless advancement, he not only inferred the possi 
 bility, but the moral certainty, of the future dawn of 
 new truths. Hence he was apparently always on 
 the watch-tower to behold some new exhibitions 
 of great truths and principles, as they might be pre 
 sented in the events of society, in the phenomena 
 of the soul and in visible nature. 
 
 In the spirit which Channing inculcated, all de 
 nominations might be one in Christ ; for he regarded 
 them all as representing some great and important 
 truth. Accordingly, his pulpit exchanges, during 
 the first years of his ministry in Boston, before the 
 storm of ecclesiastical controversy came on, are said 
 to have been so unsectarian, that he was alternately 
 owned and disowned by all the sects around him. 
 But the liberality of Dr. Channing never approached 
 the indifference that cares not for what is believed, 
 but always accompanied deep earnestness in the 
 cause of truth, an uncompromising opposition to 
 what he deemed to be error. This broad charity 
 was the offspring of a wisdom which saw the love of 
 truth that wrought under all differences, that hoped 
 more for the future than the past or the present was 
 able to give, that made allowances for diversity of
 
 CHANNING. DO 
 
 education and mental tendency ; and we should 
 add to all the considerations that pertain to intellec 
 tual expansion, the generous love and reverence of 
 humanity, that always tends to unite in bonds of 
 charitable interest all who are enriched- with their 
 possession. 
 
 The independence and self-reliance of Channing 
 blend in beautiful contrast with his reverence for 
 others. This is a prominent trait. He approached 
 all subjects and persons with the dignified air of 
 respect ; and a tone of reverence for other minds, 
 for their thoughts and motives, is plainly perceptible 
 in his general allusions, in his various letters, and in 
 many incidents unnecessary to particularize. We 
 think this power of veneration was deep ; for in 
 nature and in man, he always saw the divine. Hu 
 manity, through his views, was particularly sacred ; 
 and how could he feel otherwise than reverent to 
 wards it ? Characteristic, as well as philosophically 
 prophetic, is the intimation in his writings, that the 
 true reverence for human nature Avould create tones 
 of eloquence as yet unheard. A bearing of man 
 toward man would reveal a dignity and grace as 
 yet unknown in human manners. But this quality, 
 whilst it extended largely to others, did not stand 
 alone, but was balanced by a firm and tranquil 
 power of self-reliance. He permitted none to invade 
 the pale of his mental freedom. He would think 
 and speak for himself, preserving inviolate the fidelity 
 he owed to the decisions of his own reason and con 
 science. Power naturally relies on itself. But the 
 potency with which he cautioned others to resist 
 6*
 
 66 CHANNING. 
 
 spiritual aggression, the jealousy with which he con 
 templated the influence of numbers bound by a party 
 bond, the plea he made for individual agency as 
 better than a pledged associative action, the suprem 
 acy of the rational and moral nature within over all 
 imposing authority from without, and the frequent 
 allusions to the foes by which the independence of 
 the soul is everywhere threatened, prove that the 
 subject had been well investigated, that the costs* 
 attending this vigorous trait of character had been 
 ascertained, and that his self-relying mind was ren 
 dered such, not wholly by native tendency, but more 
 especially through a settled purpose, on the forma 
 tion of which the light of a various observation and 
 of deep meditations had shone. Self-reliance is 
 doubtless an element of every strong character. But 
 there is a foe to its existence in the pride of fashion, 
 in the sway of sects, in the traditions of the past, and 
 in the disposition of the many to blindly follow the 
 self-confident leader. But where has Channing left 
 a single trace of subserviency ? What passage in 
 his life or literature is destitute of an independent 
 and manly air ? In several utterances on individual 
 freedom, he has unconsciously sketched his own 
 character. As for instance : 
 
 " We must commit ourselves fully to a principle of 
 truth and right ; we must dare to follow it to the end. 
 Moral independence is the essential of loving warmly, 
 thinking deeply, acting efficiently, of having the soul 
 awake, of true life. This habit of relying on principle 
 should give us a buoyant consciousness of superiority to 
 every outward influence. A far-sighted anticipation of
 
 CHANNING. 07 
 
 great results from worthy deeds should make us strenuous 
 in action, and fill us with a cheerful trust." 
 
 Other and forcible expressions of this attribute 
 frequently occur. Let us enrich our pages with a 
 feAv more of these truthful and elegant quotations. 
 
 " What faculties slumber within, weighed down by the 
 chains of custom ! The want of courage to carry out 
 great principles, and to act on them at all risks, is fatal 
 to originality and freshness. Conformity benumbs and 
 cramps genius and creative power." 
 
 " A bold, free tone in conversation, the decided expres 
 sion of pure and lofty sentiment, may be influential to 
 change the whole temper and cast of thinking of society 
 around us. Are we not traitors to great truths, when we 
 suppress the utterance of them, and let the opposite errors 
 pass unrebuked ? We must be palsied by no fear to 
 offend, no desire to please, no dependence on the judg 
 ment of others. The consciousness of self-subsistence, of 
 disinterested conformity to high principles, must commu 
 nicate an open unreserve to our manners." 
 
 " Claiming no superiority, allow not this claim in 
 others. Expect and require from others the same defer- 
 ence which you feel yourselves bound to pay. As you 
 set up no pretensions to exclusive sanctity in yourselves, 
 distrust them in your neighbor. The exclusive saint 
 bears one broad mark of the want of sanctity. The real 
 Christian is the last man to be a pretender. Never suffer 
 your opinions to be treated with scorn in social inter 
 course, any more than you would your characters ; but, 
 whilst you force them on none, let men see that you 
 reverence them as truth, and that you expect decorum and 
 courtesy in those who converse with you on this, as on 
 deeply interesting subjects."
 
 68 GHANNINO. 
 
 Indeed this virtue of real independence, in union 
 with proper courtesy and reverence to others, is so 
 rare that we love to linger about the genuine utter 
 ance of so high a quality. We love to behold man 
 stronger than opinion, and mightier than custom. 
 Never can we forget the impression made by the 
 following lines in earlier years : 
 
 " I beg you to remember, that in this discourse I speak 
 in my own name, and in no other. I am not giving you the 
 opinions of any sect or body of men, but my own. I hold 
 myself alone responsible for what I utter. Let none listen 
 to me for the purpose of learning what others think. I, 
 indeed, belong to that class of Christians who are distin 
 guished by believing, that there is but one God, even the 
 Father ; and that Jesus Christ is not this one God, but 
 his dependent and obedient Son. But my accordance 
 with these is far from being universal, nor have I any 
 desire to extend it. What other men believe is to me of 
 little moment. Their arguments I gratefully hear. Their 
 conclusions I am free to receive or reject. I have no 
 anxiety to wear the livery of any party. I, indeed, take 
 cheerfully the name of a Unitarian, because unwearied 
 efforts are used to raise against it a popular cry ; and I ' 
 have not so learned Christ as to shrink from reproaches 
 cast on what I deem his truth. Were the name more 
 honored, I should be glad to throw it off; for I fear the 
 shackles which a party connection imposes. I wish to 
 regard myself as belonging, not to a sect, but to the 
 community of free minds, of lovers of truth, of followers 
 of Christ, both on earth and in heaven. I desire to escape 
 the narrow walls of a particular church, and to live under 
 the open sky, in the broad light, looking far and wide, 
 seeing with my own eyes, hearing with my own ears, and
 
 CHANNING. 69 
 
 following truth meekly but resolutely, however arduous 
 or solitary be the path in which she leads. I am, then, 
 no organ of a sect, but speak from myself alone ; and I 
 thank God, that I live at a time and under circumstances 
 which make it my duty to lay open my whole mind with 
 freedom and simplicity." 
 
 The deep seriousness that pervaded his thoughts 
 and brooded over his whole mental action, though at 
 times some may have felt it as somewhat severe in 
 his manner, we must regard as the richest of moral 
 and intellectual traits. Through this appears more 
 and more the depth of his thoughts and virtues. 
 Through this also the deeper springs of the soul, 
 springs that lie beneath the upper and surface-world 
 of emotion, are reached. Truth never penetrates us 
 so thoroughly as when it comes wearing the hues of 
 a deep and thoughtful seriousness. But there is no 
 lack of serene cheerfulness. Indeed, where will you 
 find brighter beamings of hope ? Hope was always 
 radiant in Channing ; and here, as elsewhere, there 
 appears the harmonious blending of apparent oppo- 
 sites. 
 
 It is stated, that his childhood was tinged with 
 sedateness ; that, about the time of his entrance on 
 the ministry, his habits of abstraction and seriousness 
 almost rendered his presence oppressive ; that, in the 
 pulpits where he was a general favorite, some com 
 plained of his gloom. These facts of his earlier life, 
 which was succeeded by a gradual ascendency of 
 sunshine, are accounted for in his Memoirs by the 
 circumstances of ill health and extreme conscien 
 tiousness. Let these have their weight in accounting
 
 70 CHANNING. 
 
 for the excess of the solemn shade. But the mere 
 fact of deep seriousness resolves itself into the depth 
 of his own spirit. The mind that comprehends most, 
 that sees most of the good and evil existing in human 
 life, that lives in communion with great truths and 
 prospects, that holds a consciousness of excellence 
 upon Avhich the rough agencies of the world's evil 
 are constantly breaking in, and that is exquisitely 
 alive to all moral deformity and violence, must, in a 
 world like this, hold deep seriousness as a part of its 
 nature. From the great struggle of humanity with 
 evil, from the peril attending the greatest good 
 through which all may be lost, from the vast value 
 of man, from the infinitude of truth and of the Un 
 known, there falls upon us a shade of seriousness 
 which souls of deeper action and of moral greatness 
 must wear. Great hope and great joy are serious. 
 All expansion of Power, whether of mind or of mat 
 ter, whether addressing us from mountains, oceans, 
 and skies, or from the vastness of high purpose, the 
 grandeur of great thoughts and native powers, sends 
 forth an influence of solemnity, and exhibits that 
 which is somewhat inspiring of awe. But as good 
 ness and hope are supreme in the depths of the uni 
 verse, so is the serenity of these the principal trait in 
 the highest characters ; and if we have not studied 
 the character of Channing in vain, this serene cheer 
 fulness, like the tranquillity of stars, pervaded it. We 
 read him for encouragement, for the courage and 
 hope he awakens. This balance of light and shade, 
 seriousness and cheerfulness, cannot dissatisfy us ; 
 for we think we discover its proper accordance with
 
 CHANNING. 71 
 
 a similar balance in all nature, which, taken as the 
 mirrored expression of the Creator, suggests the per 
 fect union of these traits in Him. We know and 
 acknowledge the value of mirth ; and we are told 
 that its spontaneous outburst from the joyous heart 
 always gave him delight, whilst passages are not 
 wanting in which he pleads the law of amusement in 
 our nature as deserving means of satisfaction not yet 
 introduced, passages which assert the healthful, 
 temperate, virtuous tendency of innocent amuse 
 ments over the people. Nor did his analogical sug- 
 gestiveness fail to point out corresponding voices in 
 the joyous notes and scenes of the outward world. 
 We admit, we say, the value of mirth. But never do 
 we expect to meet a deeply interesting and extra 
 ordinary character, such as takes a generous and 
 lasting hold upon us, in which seriousness, all beauti 
 ful and impressive, is not the prevailing element. 
 
 Under the name of cautiousness, we would notice 
 the conservative tendency of Channing's mind. To 
 this also belong the gentle distance and cool reserve 
 observable in his manners. He was always alive to 
 the perils of society ; which apprehensiveness, how 
 ever, was balanced by a serene fulness of hope. In 
 every paragraph of his writings, the meaning is 
 guarded from perversion and mistake. He antici 
 pates every danger. No man was ever more thor 
 oughly alive to the perils which surround our nature 
 and our lot ; and we believe that none ever hoped 
 more steadfastly and earnestly than he. Without 
 being satisfied with the past, he paid it homage ; 
 whilst his power to grasp and love, to unfold univer-
 
 72 CHANNING. 
 
 sal principles, prevented great names or hoary assent 
 from becoming, in any sense, his masters. Jesus 
 would not destroy the law or the prophets. He 
 sought to fulfil and to expand the good already con 
 ceived. Neither would Channing destroy the past if 
 he could ; but would accept the truth it has brought, 
 as thankfully and as cheerfully as he would welcome 
 a discovery. 
 
 There are two classes of minds which stand in 
 great conflict to each other, and which divide the 
 sceptre in the direction of society through its great 
 changes. The first of these are the conservatives, 
 who see the past as all, who are satisfied with its 
 attainments, who seek salvation through its light, and 
 who regard all innovation as perilous. These have 
 no patience with reformers. The other class, bold 
 in the doctrine of progress, embody some new and 
 revolutionary idea, and go on with it as all. The 
 past to them is dead. They call it a grey old hypo 
 crite, a liar, a tyrant, a thief. They despise it for its 
 stupidity ; whilst the future and the new thought are 
 all in all. The truth these rough pioneers bring, 
 they present in strong terms. They are brave and 
 fearless. They arouse and agitate. 
 
 Now, Dr. Channing belonged to neither of these, 
 but united in himself the two great principles of 
 conservatism and onwardness, these principles, 
 we say, purified from their excesses. There was a 
 deep energy in his nature, a slumbering fire, a bold, 
 brave spirit of truth and progress, reined and checked 
 by a strong conservative tendency. In society, the 
 conflict of these two principles is but relatively real,
 
 CHANNING. 73 
 
 whilst their co-operation in the production of reform 
 is absolute and perpetual. In reference to the grand 
 design, which is reform, they are as the centripetal 
 and centrifugal forces, which guide the planet in its 
 orbit. The former, you know, would arrest its ad 
 vance wholly by drawing it to the central, parent 
 mass, the sun ; whilst the latter would drive it for 
 ward for ever in a straight-line progress through the 
 endless immensity. But the conflict of the two 
 yields the beautiful ellipsis. 
 
 Thus do the conservative and the onward tenden 
 cies of society produce finally the perfect circle of 
 reform. The restless energy of reformers needs the 
 checks of conservative influence, or its impetuosity 
 would lead often to shipwrecks ; whilst it is unques 
 tionable, that new truths get cleared of their dross 
 through contest, and take finally a deeper root in 
 the popular confidence. These two agencies have 
 always appeared, in the progress of society, in a 
 phenomenal antagonism to each other ; but, in their 
 design and final result, were real and permanent 
 friends. They who have fought the hardest have been 
 found contending for different branches of the same 
 truth ; whilst an harmonious wisdom, greater than the 
 belligerent knew, has presided over their struggles, 
 and blended their influences into the service of truth. 
 Say what we will in our radical moments, the past 
 and present are as spring and summer in every man's 
 life and in the flow of ages. We may cry out, " I 
 have nothing to do with yesterday ; " but yesterday 
 has much to do with us. It is a friend and compan 
 ion we cannot divorce. Its history is ineflaceably 
 7
 
 74 CHANNING. 
 
 written in the life and character of to-day. To 
 morrow can affect us only by becoming yesterday. 
 Every plant or bursting rose-bud speaks of yester 
 day. Its growth is there. Full of interest are these 
 brave conflicts between new and old. But the har 
 mony of these appear in Channing. He was not 
 naturally a pioneer : he would not agitate community 
 much about its errors. Others must first trouble the 
 waters, must throw some idea into a state of popular 
 agitation ; and then, when the strife of conservative 
 and reformer had reached its meridian, he could*, in 
 the calmness of John and in the potency of Paul, 
 present the subject in such wide relations, in such 
 clearness and consistency as to cool the strife, and con 
 vince all of a truth and justice in which they should 
 acquiesce. We doubt that Channing had written on 
 slavery, had not the abolitionists first aroused the 
 country to the rights of the slave. "We also doubt that 
 he had ever stood forth in the doctrinal advocacy of 
 new theological views, but for the manner in which 
 the public mind was already agitated on themes of 
 wide theological difference. Such men are not the 
 first movers ; but, when they do move, they cause a 
 wide circle on the sea of reform, extending even to 
 the very shores; whilst it not unfrequently occurs, 
 from the want of proper comprehension, that both 
 parties claim and accuse the man in whom these 
 two principles harmoniously act. 
 
 We incline to the opinion, that no one man can give 
 the entire character of another, however familiar 
 with its various exhibitions. There is usually more 
 in men than they have ever acted or spoken. Espe-
 
 CHANNING. 75 
 
 cially is difficulty multiplied when the character 
 viewed is not a bold concentration of life and energy 
 in one or two projecting points, but abounds in the 
 refined, harmonious, and almost invisible blendings 
 of various and seemingly opposite qualities. It is in 
 such characters that the spirit of excellence seeks its 
 most perfect expansion* The character of Channing 
 evidently comes under this view. He is clearly dis 
 tinguished by the total symphony of his powers, in 
 which the moral predominates. We 'have noticed, 
 as best we could, the idea of human worth that gave 
 light to all his teaching, that influenced his own no 
 bler aspirations, and that left its deep traces on his 
 character and life. We have endeavored so to state 
 the several traits of his character observable at a dis 
 tance, his moral purity, philanthropy, liberality, great 
 self-reliance and humble reverence of others, deep 
 seriousness always wearing the serene cheerfulness 
 of hope, and his conservative and onward tendencies, 
 that a just ideal of its moral wealth may arise in the 
 reader's mind. From this department of the subject, 
 let us advance to a more particular examination of 
 his intellectual powers. 
 
 The intellectual are indeed the executive faculties, 
 the instrumentality of success. Great ends demand 
 a correspondingly great executive energy. We 
 cannot, without violence to the plainest and sim 
 plest psychological light, so separate the intellectual 
 from the moral in any man as not to admit that the 
 highest quality of greatness in the latter implies a 
 corresponding excellence in the former. There are 
 no Fenelons in moral influence on mankind, who
 
 76 CHANNING. 
 
 are not Fenelons in intellectual refinement and en 
 ergy. For a time, therefore, let us consider William 
 Ellery Channing merely as an intellectual man. 
 
 As mental characteristics flow to some extent from 
 ancestral sources, it might not be wholly out of place 
 to name the historical fact, that the grand-parents, 
 both on his father's and his mother's side, were per 
 sons of more than ordinary intelligence and energy. 
 William Ellery, one of the signers of the Declara 
 tion, honored for simplicity and purity of character, 
 as well as for ability and good sense, is perhaps as 
 plainly present in the constitutional tendencies of 
 him who bore his name, as any of his ancestors. 
 But, as it is desirable to contemplate the mind of 
 Channing from its own exhibitions, we will not seek 
 to trace out any connection subsisting between it 
 and" its ancestral springs, through the ever-faithful 
 laws of hereditary descent. Doubtless he would be 
 found to differ from each and all. 
 
 The organization of Dr. Channing, frail as it be 
 came, was peculiarly and happily adapted to per 
 ceive and to realize truth. We may not be fully 
 understood by all in the sentiment here spoken ; but 
 there are many who know, better than they can 
 express, the truth to which we refer, the peculiar 
 fitness of certain organizations to receive, through 
 sympathetic sensibility, the divinest influences. We 
 occasionally meet one whose eye and form have, 
 more than others, a spiritual expression, an ex 
 pression that intimates a natural fellowship with 
 truth in its highest and beautiful forms. Their very 
 nerves have a sensibility to the True. Perhaps,
 
 CHANNING. 
 
 however, this is only another mode of stating the 
 higher fact of mental excellence to which the per 
 sonal materiality conforms, since refinement of sen 
 sibility in the soul is apt to have its clear expression 
 in the body. Be this as it may, it is certain that Dr. 
 Channing possessed a constitutional susceptibility 
 that felt even the moral influence of the atmosphere 
 he breathed, and of the natural world, to whose 
 beauty and loveliness he was ever alive. 
 
 There is in Channing's intellect a certain definite- 
 ness ', a clearness, a transparency, that is. rarely to be 
 found in authors who deal so largely as he in gen 
 eralization. This is a conspicuous trait. Hence the 
 ease with which he is followed by common minds. 
 The uneducated cannot leave his pages without the 
 conscious feeling that they have gained his meaning. 
 It is not uncommon to meet persons who strive to 
 grasp the universal, and in the attempt fail of that 
 directness and singleness of aim, without which, 
 power is wasted. Following Channing, the reader 
 is never lost in twilight or in clouds. Great thoughts 
 are always simply expressed. His is a luminous 
 page. But we would not intimate that the thorough 
 comprehension of Channing demands any thing less 
 than a ready power to appreciate great moral ideas, 
 and to recognize the deepest facts of experience and 
 consciousness. The mere matter-of-fact man, who 
 cares only for details, though many rays may enter 
 his mind as he reads, will not be interested like one 
 who loves to trace the broad expansions of truth 
 into the wide range of general principles. 
 
 Notwithstanding the obvious definiteness for which 
 7*
 
 /O CHANNING. 
 
 we contend, the charge of mysticism, or a tendency 
 to mysticism, has been offered by one or two of his 
 reviewers. There is no question, we think, that the 
 mind of Channing, like all great minds, tended at 
 times to pass the limits of the known, to verge on 
 the twilight region which divides the day from the 
 night, the known from the unknown. No doubt 
 such a mind was conscious of the mysteries of being, 
 of the dim and undefined shadows of distant truths 
 passing over it. Souls of divine temper have long 
 ings after the Undefined and the Unattained. We 
 grant, that here and there is an expression that might 
 intimate a fact like this, a plain fact of inward ex 
 perience to which the soul of the reader may respond ; 
 but we deny, that, in the presentation, he ever gives 
 you the shadows of truth. It is truth itself, un- 
 embellished, and in the plainest words. When we 
 consider the order of topics on which he wrote, 
 topics that turned constantly from the outward to the 
 inward life, that aimed to manifest the soul, we 
 should have held his writings as destitute of one 
 principal feature of excellence, had they attempted 
 to lay open the human spirit on an even plain, where 
 all its powers and action had seemed as common as 
 the hills and meadows around us. 
 
 A passage like the following has been thought to 
 border somewhat on the Platonic mysticism : 
 
 " We believe that the human mind is akin to that 
 intellectual energy which gave birth to nature, and con 
 sequently that it contains within itself the seminal and 
 prolific principles from which nature sprung." Octavo 
 volume, p. 189.
 
 CHANNING. 79 
 
 Mysticism, if we understand it, is shadowy, and in 
 a degree unintelligible. But is not this sentence 
 plain ? Does not the common belief, that God is the 
 Parent Mind, through whose energy the universe 
 was framed, and that the soul is his offspring and 
 son, contain all that this view expresses ? If nature 
 sprung from God, and if man is his son, then neces 
 sarily is " the human mind akin to that intellectual 
 energy which gave birth to nature ; and consequently 
 it contains within itself the seminal and prolific prin 
 ciples from which nature sprung." The whole view 
 has always reposed in the common faith. 
 
 If placed on philosophical grounds, the conclusion 
 is just as easy and intelligible. For, in the exam 
 ination of nature, man is conscious that the same 
 order of wisdom and love that the earth and the 
 heavens reveal he possesses within the range of his 
 own faculties. How, indeed, should man recognize 
 in nature a divine mind, but through powers similar 
 to those which nature reveals ? In the possibility of 
 recognition, therefore, lies the induction of Chan- 
 ning. We see in it nothing except what the common 
 belief and the bonds of logic fully contain. But we 
 are aware that mysticism has better meanings than 
 mere unintelligibility ; and, whilst the soul and nature 
 remain so full of the undefined, of mystery, of the 
 inexplicable, greatness of intellect will be doomed to 
 no condescension in giving a various expression 
 to this fact and condition of being. 
 
 In England, we are told by persons who have 
 mingled freely with the middling classes, that it 
 was not uncommon to meet those who felt a lively
 
 80 CHANNING, 
 
 interest in his writings, and whose hopes had been 
 upborne by his powerful faith in man. Indeed, what 
 bright fires he kindles along the pathway of the poor, 
 the oppressed, the unfortunate ! Such will ever un 
 derstand him, at least, as their friend. His clearness 
 of style is but the evidence of the same attribute of 
 intellect ; for it is thence that style chiefly originates. 
 The freshness and spontaneity of his communications 
 bear an unpremeditated character, whilst each sen 
 tence and thought wears the completeness of ma 
 turity. This union of spontaneity and matureness, 
 of definiteness and universality, forms another in 
 stance of the union of apparent opposites, for which 
 the character of Channing appears so much distin 
 guished. 
 
 We should say that the intellect of Channing was 
 not remarkable for its merely logical processes in 
 arriving at truth. At least, he gives you the results 
 of logic, all that logic may gain without troubling 
 you with the processes ; and we should think him 
 not very much accustomed to the severe labor of 
 purely metaphysical and logical thinking. Follow 
 ing his mind, as it courses on with the clearness and 
 transparency of a river, it is difficult to think of the 
 logician. He never seemed like one who had made 
 reasoning an art, but as one who had thought much, 
 who had looked on every side of the subject on 
 which he treats, who has ever dealt fairly with his 
 own mind, who has never turned aside to party pur 
 poses, and whose intellectual life was continually 
 enriched and ennobled by lofty aims, and a deep, dis 
 interested love of truth. It is one of his traits to
 
 CHANNING. 81 
 
 
 
 give us his convictions, and often without telling us 
 how he came to them. But the convictions imply 
 adequate processes causing them ; and, whether these 
 belong most to logic or intuition, it is quite certain 
 that they are able to stand the severest wrestlings of 
 the logical faculty. Our infant transcendentalism 
 has taught us, that " sinners reason," whilst " saints 
 behold." * We admit that the logician is far less 
 than the philosopher ; far less, indeed, than the mind 
 which, as by instinct, seems to seize on great and 
 inspiring truths. We concede that there are minds 
 which act above mere logic ; but we deny that they 
 act against it. Truth can have no war with fair 
 logical effort. How far the mind of Channing par 
 took of the logical, and how far of the intuitive, we 
 pretend not to say ; but certainly not enough of the 
 former to give character to the man. His intellect 
 seldom appears to act alone. The soul speaks. The 
 heart and the reason blend. The prophet mind and 
 voice are his. Perhaps Coleridge has best said what 
 should be believed on this subject, when, alluding to 
 Channing, he remarked, " If you will excuse a play 
 on words in speaking of such' a man, I will say that 
 Mr. Channing is a philosopher in both the possible 
 renderings of the word. He has the love of wisdom, 
 and the wisdom of love."f He who writes from 
 but one faculty- in himself can move but one in 
 others. He who writes from all, moves all. Give 
 us life ! 
 
 * The Dial. Orphic Sayings. 
 t Letter to Washington Allston, vol. ii. p. 219.
 
 82 CHANNING. 
 
 The love of beauty, of nature, is clearly one of 
 his intellectual traits. This element unconsciously 
 flows through all his speech, and contributes freely 
 to his freshness, purity, and elegance of thought and 
 style. No abstraction or introversial tendency ever 
 diminished the liveliness of his sensibility and joy in 
 the scenes of the material world. Believing in the 
 harmony of the mental and material Avorlds, he would 
 enjoy each in unison. The beauty that early inspired 
 him on his native island; the devotional delight 
 yielded by the scenes among which he rambled in 
 Old Virginia, when life was young and its fire un 
 abated ; the chaste description of natural scenery 
 among the lakes and mountains of England; the 
 observations made on the various beauty of the 
 ocean, and on the matchless forms of sublimity in 
 Switzerland, instruct us that a poetic element lived 
 in his soul, that the varied beauties of the universe 
 were near his heart. Particularly does it strike 
 us, that Channing was, as few persons are, alive to 
 the sublime. Power, speaking through the vast 
 forms of nature, awoke a kindred power in his own 
 breast. From the breast of the ocean he thus 
 speaks : 
 
 " The soul and nature are attuned together. Some 
 thing within answers to all we witness without. When 
 I look on the ocean in its might and tumult, my spirit is 
 stirred, swelled. When it spreads out in peaceful blue 
 waves, under a bright sky, it is dilated, yet composed. 
 I enter into the spirit of the earth, and this is always 
 good. Nature breathes nothing unkind. It expands or
 
 CHANNING. OO 
 
 calms or softens us. Let us open our souls to its influ 
 ences. 
 
 " The ocean is said to rage, but never so to me. I see 
 life, joy, in its wild billows, rather than rage. It is full 
 of spirit, eagerness. In a storm, we are not free to look 
 at the ocean as an object of sentiment. Danger then 
 locks up the soul to its true influence. At a distance 
 from it, we might contemplate it as a solemn minister of 
 divine justice, and witness of God's power to a thought 
 less world ; but we could associate with it only moral 
 ideas, not a blind rage. At least, I have seen nothing 
 which gives nature an unkind expression. 
 
 " We talk of old ocean, hoary ocean : I cannot associate 
 age with it. It is too buoyant, animated, living. Its crest 
 of foam is not hoariness, but the breaking forth of life. 
 Ocean is perpetual youth." Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 203. 
 
 From the regions of the Alps, he said, 
 
 " Do you not envy me the beautiful, magnificent sce 
 nery which is now stretching around me ? I shall never 
 forget the day I spent at Berne. It was Sunday, and in 
 the afternoon, under a most brilliant sky, I walked on the 
 ramparts, and hailed with joy, as old friends, the moun 
 tains in the horizon which I had visited a few days before. 
 All that nature can do to lift us above the sordid is done 
 in Switzerland ; and who can doubt, that, where there is 
 a deep purpose in the soul to elevate itself, much aid may 
 be derived from the sublimity of the external world ? . . . 
 It is worth no little suffering to cross the Wingern Alp, 
 
 and scale the Grimsel. I had strength for neither 
 
 This country has inspired me. I grew better almost as 
 
 soon as I entered it." p. 221. 
 
 i* {f ** Stns.'j v Jon 
 
 But examples of the mild enthusiasm kindled in
 
 84 CHANNING. 
 
 his mind by the beautiful are perhaps unnecessary, 
 since the flow of his words and thoughts seem to 
 murmur of this as their fountain ; whilst some of the 
 best metaphysical views, yielded by this mysterious 
 attribute, are found in different parts of his writings, 
 without any intention, however, of discussing its 
 qualities. But it is chiefly a moral beauty that he 
 extracts from nature ; and we may suppose that a 
 mind, drawing so much from its own resources, and 
 rising so constantly above the outward fact and its 
 natural impression, must have found its chief ma 
 terials of enjoyment in the invisible sanctuary of the 
 spirit. One historical fact speaks a volume on this 
 branch of our subject, namely, the new epoch which 
 the beauty and sublimity of surrounding scenes in 
 his native Rhode Island opened in his mind.* That 
 beauty and that sublimity could never have created 
 the epoch his history records, but for an inner fact of 
 the beautiful pervading the soul ; for thousands were 
 amidst it at different times, without ever being con 
 scious of a work going on within them, forming a 
 new era in their moral and intellectual develop 
 ment. 
 
 We proceed to consider briefly the claims of Dr. 
 Channing to Originality, a power, above all others, 
 the rarest to be found. Still, we properly demand 
 its presence, before we accord to any one the highest 
 order of greatness. But what is originality ? Is it 
 the causation of truth ? No : for truth is uncaused ; 
 and no idea can be formed, for which the materials do 
 not previously exist. Originality, therefore, belongs 
 
 * Channing's Works, yol. iv. p. 337.
 
 CHANNING. 
 
 only to three forms or modes of influence, namely, 
 discovery, combination, and expression. 
 
 In the first of these, discovery, there are but few 
 claims to be asserted by any who take the mind for 
 their field of speculation. Some, who have supposed 
 that new light on the intellectual and moral philo 
 sophy of man has appeared to them, have been 
 mortified and surprised to find their original views 
 in Plato, or in other teachers whose light, thousands 
 of years ago, may have fallen on India, Palestine, 
 Greece, or Italy. Coleridge said, that, for very many 
 centuries, it has been difficult to advance a new truth, 
 or even a new error, in the philosophy of the intellect 
 or morals. It is not, therefore, in the department 
 of discovery, that we look for originality in an author 
 like Channing. 
 
 The originality of nature is not the production of 
 new elements, but the various combination of those 
 that have always existed. Rock, tree, air, and 
 ocean, tell you this. A few elements are thus com 
 bined into an immeasurable universe ; as a feAv great 
 principles may, under the control of moral genius, 
 enter into many discourses, into the most extensive 
 theory. Here is the great work of genius, so to use 
 what all men know, as to bring them to new and 
 important views, to quicken thought, to liberate men 
 from error, to awaken the full power of their own 
 minds. Here Channing was in no ordinary degree 
 original. Nowhere else do you find such a com 
 bination of thought. Every article is marked by the 
 individuality of the writer. The reading public 
 might know an essay of his almost as well without 
 8
 
 86 CHANNING. 
 
 his name as with it, the character of his mind being 
 so strongly impressed on all his themes. Who can 
 read in his literature the least homage to a master ? 
 Where is the slightest tinge of conscious or even 
 unconscious imitation ? These cannot be found. 
 The highest power, we know, usually exhibits itself 
 in original forms and processes : still it is not difficult 
 to find very strong men, Avho bear plain marks of 
 the formative influence of revered authors. There 
 is a certain quickening energy, which we find it 
 difficult to describe, that distinguishes creative minds ; 
 and it is the fulness of this that pervades the literature 
 of Channing. The plot of his subject is usually wide 
 and striking, whilst the common theme becomes new 
 in his hands. The common truth yields a new light, 
 as it is brought into a higher service and connection 
 than we were wont to view it ; whilst the suddenness 
 with which the unexpected ray frequently emanates 
 and illumines, awakens exquisite delight. In expres 
 sion, which is nearly half of a writer's power, the 
 same evidence appears. Nowhere else do you meet 
 his style. It is clear as crystal, full of the beauty 
 and force of the writer's mind. It is the fresh crea 
 tion of an original spirit, marked by power full and 
 wide, flowing beneath the calmness of a graceful 
 simplicity and ease. We refer to originality of style, 
 however, only as an intimation of originality of intel 
 lect ; for the law of writing, as well as of speech, 
 gives to language the leading characteristics of the 
 mind that frames it. 
 
 We have spoken of originality as a rare endow 
 ment ; nor is the pulpit perhaps its most general and
 
 CHANNING. 87 
 
 favorite resort. When it does appear, it is sometimes 
 marred by eccentricity. But in more perfect minds it 
 is a harmonious fountain, a consistent action of all the 
 faculties. Whatever Channing may have received 
 from abroad, and we imagine that he received 
 much ; for to every good influence of nature and 
 life he opened his generous embrace, whatever, 
 we say, he received from abroad, was so thoroughly 
 transformed as to become a new life. The spirit of 
 Channing is eminently creative, eminently original. 
 He was a new man in the world. 
 
 His power was marked by calmness. Perhaps 
 this is its principal trait. And two inductions equally 
 logical repose in this fact ; namely, the high quality 
 of his mental agency, and the difficulty of an imme 
 diate popular appreciation equal to the power and 
 goodness possessed. The deepest spiritual energy 
 works in calmness, somewhat as the workings of 
 omnipotence in nature are mostly calm and silent. 
 The power that bids the plant become a tree, and 
 the worlds to revolve in their orbits, is wholly un 
 heard. But nature is not all calmness. There are 
 thunders, lightnings, storms, and cataracts, that occu 
 py a necessary place in the great whole. Still, storms 
 are transient, and cataracts are few ; whilst nature, in 
 perfect mildness, does her perfect work. The mind 
 of Charming never becomes a cataract, never a roar 
 ing sea, but goes forth in a full and an even strength. 
 It is slow that " worlds get grown, that solar systems 
 get formed." The great and the deep power thus 
 works. Through this feature of calmness, we see 
 the intellect of Channing ; for it always wrought in
 
 CHANNING. 
 
 this strong and quiet way. But this fact forbids us to 
 think that he is adequately appreciated ; for observa 
 tion forces upon us the belief, that the world is more 
 slowly reached by the highest quality of influence ; 
 that its ear is more readily won by dazzling and 
 noisy exhibitions of power. If, however, it requires 
 longer time for a man thus characterized to be fully 
 known by the world, when known, his hold upon it 
 is more permanent and lasting. 
 
 In the course of our reflections, we have asked, 
 Which is greater, the analysis or the synthesis of 
 Channing's mind ? And it is difficult to say, to which 
 he most inclines ; for both appear in quite equal pro 
 portion. It is plain that the most common as well as 
 the more elevated truth was closely questioned, 
 was well analyzed. Hence, in the simplest utter 
 ances, it is difficult to find the commonplace. In the 
 simplest sentences, there is an exactness of meaning, 
 a perfect fitness of words, which intimates that they 
 were preceded by a questioning, analyzing genius, 
 that gave to these simple utterances their thoughtful 
 freshness. In touching the scenery of Switzerland, 
 of Grassmere, of the sea, the beauty expressed bears 
 the clear marks that its forms were analytically 
 viewed. 
 
 It has been said, that Dr. Channing sometimes 
 nearly exhausted his friends by questions, calling 
 out their knowledge in the most definite form, and to 
 a thorough extent. It was somewhat in this style 
 that he dealt with subjects. From his diary, contain 
 ing various rules of self-discipline, we take the fol 
 lowing : .
 
 CHANNING. 89 
 
 " I should constantly have some end in view in think 
 ing. My thoughts should be arranged : there should be 
 some directing principle for them. A passive mind rests v 
 in the perception of an object. The active mind requires 
 for its use, cause, consequences, relations, signification, 
 past state, tendency, changes. Every thing has innumera 
 ble connections and dependencies. These are the objects 
 of thought. In connecting with a thing all that belongs 
 to it, we become acquainted with it. This thorough 
 acquaintance with all objects of perception is what we 
 should propose." 
 
 It cannot be pretended, that the profoundest ana 
 lysis is always exhibited in the discussion of every 
 subject, or that he always gives you the deepest 
 possible reason for what he believes ; but his topic is 
 usually so treated as to imply far more analysis in 
 the writer's mind than is ostensibly manifest on the 
 surface of the presentation. We are informed of the 
 processes that reading him awaken in the reflective ; 
 and, from the nature of these, together with the clear 
 and definite light that shines from each part of his 
 subject, the most moderate inference the truth will 
 warrant is, that the analytical faculties of Chan- 
 ning's mind were accurate and strong, yet so much 
 relieved by the life of the affections and of the imagi 
 nation, as scarcely to convict the reader of their 
 severe and patient action. 
 
 But the synthesis, the bringing together of many 
 rays into one light, the clear and steady advance from 
 given principles to great conclusions, this stands 
 out in bolder relief than the other, although we are 
 not sure of its actual ascendency over it. We say 
 8*
 
 90 CHANNING. 
 
 the steady advance ; though at times the conclusion 
 springs so suddenly from the admitted premises as 
 to convince us of an intuitive logic in the reasoner, 
 requiring another word for its expression. We 
 choose to leave these points to the unbiased judgment 
 of our readers, some of whom may think differently 
 on the equal fulness of these opposing traits. 
 
 The power to rise above the facts of observation 
 to higher analogical facts, the tendency to dwell on 
 the general ideas and principles which the facts of 
 observation suggest as above themselves, and the 
 ability to see and the disposition to fasten on the laws 
 which pervade the phenomenal facts of nature and 
 experience, strongly distinguish the intellect of Chan- 
 ning. Therefore he could never have been a great 
 historian, in the sense in which the world has too 
 long understood the vocation of history. He could 
 not, without violence to his mind, have remained 
 long in the mere series of events, names, dates, and 
 changes, which are mostly the substance of what 
 we have been accustomed to call history. Pa 
 tience might be wanting for this. But he had all the 
 elements for giving you a nation's life, a nation's 
 character and spirit, using the details of external 
 development as wholly subservient to this. Neither 
 could he write a review like Macaulay, with the 
 same ground-work of particular facts ; but, without 
 neglecting these, he could present you higher views, 
 and give you as truly the real character and life he 
 undertakes to unfold. We will venture to say, that, 
 in his most objectionable review, the review of Bona 
 parte, his remarks on power, its different kinds and
 
 CHANNING. 91 
 
 Vises, are an expression of greater thoughts than you 
 will meet in any of the articles of the gifted English 
 Reviewer. But you may say that these are moral 
 thoughts. So they are. Still they are thoughts, and 
 the prefixing of this adjective cannot take away their 
 greatness. Is not all life moral ? Is not nature 
 moral ? Is the intellect less purely intellect when 
 acting for the moral, than when acting without it or 
 against it ? But let us not here open a chapter of 
 contrasts. - 
 
 The great characteristic of Channing's mind, the 
 one that includes all others, is the unity of his men 
 tal powers. His is an even strength. There was 
 a fine balance of the various parts, an absence of 
 irregular and projecting points. Herein lies the 
 secret of true greatness. It is not difficult to find 
 great talent anywhere. But the rarest thing on 
 earth is to find a strong man who is not so deficient 
 in certain parts as to offend your idea of greatness. 
 As in every perfect form there is a balance of parts, 
 in the tree and in the noble personal form, so there 
 is a total harmony of faculties in all who represent 
 the most perfect greatness. 
 
 The progress of such men is marked by consisten 
 cy. The epochs which form their history are, more 
 than others, like the seasons in their accordance to 
 each other. In the growths of nature, there are no 
 contradictions. The last stage is in harmony with the 
 first. In the progress of Channing's mind, there are 
 no remarkable turnings from darkness to light, no 
 wholesale renunciation of old opinions, no great war 
 between any two mental states. This consistency,
 
 92 CHANNING. 
 
 however, between the different periods of progress is 
 but one of the revealing evidences of the unity we 
 have named. 
 
 Another of its manifestations may be discovered in 
 a consistency of views. It is only the well-balanced 
 mind that looks on all sides of a subject, that hear 
 kens to every argument and objection that may arise 
 before it decides and takes a final stand ; and it is 
 only such minds that so discover the great principles 
 and all their distant leadings, involved in an important 
 question, as to take such grounds as will not be likely 
 to receive the condemnation of the light of future 
 years. There is doubtless a tendency in most minds 
 to realize unity in their views ; but it is not uncom 
 mon for gifted and enlightened persons to express 
 sentiments at one time which are, indirectly at least, 
 contravened by those they utter at another. Changes 
 are implied in progress. And those which cause us 
 to contradict our former selves are noble also, when 
 prompted by reason and conscience ; but what we 
 allege is this, that contradictory changes evince 
 weakness somewhere : a side view of truth has been 
 taken ; fractions, and not units, have been considered ; 
 the subject has not been studied as a whole, and 
 known in its connections with other subjects, and in 
 its harmony with all known truths. We claim that 
 Dr. Channing was remarkable for this habit of looking 
 on every side of a subject, of examining all objec 
 tions, of weighing all opposing reasons, and of 
 knowing the accordance of his position with all 
 the truth he knew, before he took his stand, and 
 announced his belief. Hence the unity of his views.
 
 CHANNING. yd 
 
 Wide was the range of his themes. Various were 
 the occasions and purposes that called forth his 
 intellectual efforts. And yet would it not be diffi 
 cult to select from all his reviews, sermons, essays, 
 lectures, and letters, any two opinions and senti 
 ments that oppose and destroy each other ? We 
 know it is a small thing for the noblest mind to be 
 in some of its states at variance with itself, for the 
 mightiest are frail and erring ; but we still aver that 
 the more perfect a mind is in the balance and har 
 mony of all its powers, the more it resembles Him in 
 Avhom contradictions are impossible, the more accor 
 dant are its eras of progress, and the more unity will 
 prevail through the variety of its decisions and views. 
 Channing is singularly self-consistent, and that, it 
 would seem, without aiming at such consistency. 
 
 We are amused and edified by late writers, who 
 plead for the now ; who tell us to speak " the thoughts 
 of to-day, in words as hard as cannon-balls, " even 
 though they contradict every thought, deed, and ut 
 terance of yesterday. There is a truth, doubtless, at 
 the bottom of this plea ; but would it not be well to 
 distinguish between the impulse of to-day and the 
 thought of to-day ? For the one too often passes 
 for the other. So far as our yesterday was right 
 and true, so far our to-day will confirm it ; else it, 
 too, must be repented. Yesterday, to-day, and to 
 morrow, will be accordant in the same proportion as 
 they flow from the mind's unity, in the same degree 
 as all parts of subjects are penetrated thoroughly and 
 justly while the opinions are being formed. 
 
 But the conscious harmony of Channing's mind
 
 94 CHANNING. 
 
 appears in that tendency which sought to reveal the 
 agreement between Nature, Providence, and Chris 
 tianity. He never separated religious truth from the 
 universe of truth. In the Christian miracles he 
 believed, not on the ground, however, that they con 
 tradicted nature, but that, in spirit and design, they 
 were one with nature ; that, as confirmations of Chris 
 tianity, they operated to carry forward the mind in 
 union Avith the whole ministry of the natural. Every 
 where in Channing do you meet this wide tendency 
 to harmonize in human faith the facts of outward na 
 ture, the soul, the course of providence, and the great 
 ideas of Christianity. He took a truth of revelation, 
 as for instance the paternal character of God, or the 
 solemn retributive law there announced, and never 
 left it till its verity was traced through the wide range 
 of nature and experience, and echoed back from the 
 deeps and the heights of the universe. This to us is 
 a great proof of the position assumed ; as is the 
 development of the view, pervading all his sacred 
 literature, of the agreement of all God's voices heard 
 through his various mediums of self-manifestation. 
 The harmony among our inward powers to be sought 
 in religion bears the same way. He sought the union 
 of the intellect and the heart in worship and in faith, 
 that devotion might have the sanction and support of 
 the whole soul, that the intellectual powers might 
 give illumination and vigor to faith. In such par 
 ticulars as these, and in the justice with which he 
 treats all subjects, is discoverable a balance of mind 
 rarely to be found in other men. 
 
 We have elsewhere spoken of the uninterrupted
 
 CHANNING. 
 
 95 
 
 tendency of Channing's intellect to expand into the 
 universal. So conscious was he of this, that he 
 regarded his duty to mankind to consist in faithfully 
 setting forth those great and universal truths which 
 deeply enter into the problem of human happiness, 
 and by which the reformation and salvation of society 
 are to occur. In several passages this consciousness 
 is expressed. To the universal in philosophy, mo 
 rals, and religion, he applied his mind. And, if true 
 greatness exists anywhere, it cannot be denied that 
 it belongs to universal truths, to the unchangeable 
 and all-pervading laws and elements of matter and 
 mind, of wisdom and virtue. It lies not in the local 
 and the transient. And he who, by natural and 
 constant aspiration, holds continued fellowship and 
 intimacy with the universal in man, nature, and life, 
 offers the clearest evidence of having a mind related 
 to the greatness he sees, loves, and unfolds. We 
 read in this fact, not only the intellectual expansion 
 for which his writings are marked, but we see also 
 the quality of his powers. The correspondence be 
 tween the calm agency of his own mind, and the 
 mild action of the universal to which he was at 
 tached, is strikingly beautiful; and, if we would 
 extend it a moment, it would bring us the thought, 
 that all such agencies are for the day more unob 
 served than the merely temporary announcing itself 
 with trumpets. But as the sun and stars overlook 
 the ages ; as they appear in uniform splendor, when 
 the local storms are passed, and their thunders are 
 hushed ; so he who lives and speaks from the univer 
 sal, sheds his radiance on the world, like the fixed
 
 96 CHANNING. 
 
 and steady lights of heaven, when the memory of the 
 local spirit is forgotten, and the foaming, crested 
 waves of passionate excitement have broken and 
 died upon the shore. 
 
 We have endeavored, thus far, to present Dr. 
 Channing in the principal traits of his character. We 
 have noticed, though imperfectly, what to us is most 
 striking among his intellectual and moral traits. We 
 would now offer a few remarks on the proportion of 
 the former to the latter, in which the secret of his 
 power appears. 
 
 There is a distinction too little made in psycho 
 logical reasoning, that strikes us as very necessary 
 and practical, which is the real difference of superior 
 minds in the QUALITY as well as in the quantity of 
 their powers. There is a finer and firmer fibre in 
 some minds than in others. In mere quantity of 
 powers, you may find several equals and some supe 
 riors to Dr. Channing. But, when quality of mind 
 is considered, you will rarely find his equal, either 
 in the past or the present. Seldom, very seldom, 
 may one be found from whom emanates so high an 
 order of influence. This distinction should never be 
 forgotten in comparing Channing with most others 
 who have great mental energy. For this is his prin 
 cipal distinction from such minds. 
 
 Overlooking this view, some resolve the secret of 
 his success into an enormous moral development, 
 into mere faith and conscience ; and have left with 
 us the conclusion, that, with an intellect bordering 
 but slightly on the super-ordinary, these inspiring 
 moral traits may achieve sublimest wonders. We
 
 CHANNING. 97 
 
 would not undertake to advocate the extraordinary 
 character of Channing's mind, it being ill suited to 
 the plainness of the evidence on which his fame so 
 justly rests. But, as a matter of speculative interest 
 wholly, we would ask, how are faith and conscience 
 to move mankind on the highest topics of thought, 
 and on the greatest questions of human interest, in the 
 calmest manner, but through the agency of intellect ? 
 Must not every heart be reached through the mind ? 
 What is the essay on Milton, the treatise on Calvin 
 ism, and some early doctrinal sermons, but severe 
 labors of intellect ? And these are still the strong 
 monuments of his power. That ordinary talent may 
 produce great temporary effects, when moved by an 
 excessive action of moral feeling, we know ; but to 
 penetrate the soul in its calmest moments, to influ 
 ence the soundest parts of society on great topics 
 more deeply than they had been influenced before, 
 with no appeal to passion, demands intellect of the 
 highest quality. Properly speaking, a great faith 
 that is to say, faith in the vast designs and agency of 
 God, faith in human nature, and in the boundless 
 sweep of providence asks a wide scope of vision, 
 and usually implies it. The hold which Channing 
 has on the human mind cannot be accounted for by 
 education, for he was not the best scholar ; nor by 
 the fulness of moral sentiment ajone. Reason de 
 mands the concession, that in him was an intellect 
 most extraordinary for the unity and quality of its 
 powers, fertilized and ennobled by the influence of 
 a spiritual life, which, for beauty and power, it is 
 difficult to equal from the best examples. Indeed,
 
 98 CHANNING. 
 
 to fall short of this concession is to break the unity, 
 naturalness, and beauty of his mind. We cannot 
 love the monstrous, even though it wear the halo of 
 a reputed saint. 
 
 Webster, with colossal brow, and lion-like look 
 of power, at once impresses you as one in whom 
 there lives the vast amount of energy, as one in 
 whom nature has invested her might. But, in this 
 impression of vast mental vigor, there is not the 
 idea of a man whose constant home is universal 
 truth, whose nature is exquisitely alive to the beauty 
 and concord of the universe, and to the perfection 
 of the soul, as when you come near to Channing. 
 Where goodness predominates in any character, it 
 is not so natural to think about the talents. Talents 
 are first in the association of ideas, when every 
 thing else is second to them, when there is nothing 
 but talents to admire. Probably, it is the good 
 man we think of, when Channing's name is men 
 tioned ; which is so prominent in the conception of 
 his greatness, as not to render the idea of intellect 
 as impressive as if it stood alone, the principal power 
 to be seen, and unshaded by the grandeur of moral 
 attributes. Though we would never compare the 
 human to the divine except for the purpose of illus 
 tration, we would say, that the celestial towering of 
 this idea of goodness, in the conception of Jesus, is 
 so great that mere intellect is scarcely thought of. 
 Thus, in the enlightened mind, the idea of God 
 springs up as of the Father, the Preserver, the Friend, 
 the All-perfect ; whilst the infinity of intellect comes 
 in as second to this. But is intellect less for the
 
 CHANNING. 99 
 
 grandeur and presence of moral attributes ? Some 
 what in the spirit of these remarks, Coleridge, speak 
 ing of Charming, said, " His affection for the good as 
 the good, and his earnestness for the true as the true, 
 with that harmonious subordination of the latter to 
 the former, without encroachment on the absolute 
 worth of either, present in him a character which in 
 my heart's heart I believe to be the very rarest on 
 earth." In quantity of intellect, Webster surpasses 
 Channing. But in quality of mind, he surpasses 
 Webster ; and it would not be difficult to verify the 
 position, that he has communicated greater thoughts, 
 and has influenced the human mind more deeply, 
 more extensively and nobly, than the great and 
 gifted statesman has done. 
 
 The first thing to be asked in ascertaining the 
 mental character of an author is, What are his 
 themes ? For men choose the subjects on which 
 they love to think ; and these reflect the order of 
 mind. The correspondence between Channing and 
 his subjects is worthy of a thought. No man ever 
 wrote on a higher order of themes. The unity, per 
 fection, and paternity of God ; the nature, relations, 
 and duties of man; the elevation, worth, and im 
 provement of the soul ; the accordance of revelation 
 with nature and reason ; education, freedom ; the 
 duty, interest, glory of the nation and state ; these 
 are themes which in true moral grandeur are not to 
 be surpassed. Arid when it is remembered, that 
 Channing did not rise to topics like these, but laid 
 his hand upon them, with all the naturalness and ease 
 that a child plucks the flowers along his path ; and
 
 100 CHANNING. 
 
 when it is remembered, that, in their discussion, great 
 and universal principles caine into his discourse, as 
 naturally as the various verdure greets the breath of 
 spring, it seems that stupidity itself must behold the 
 shining proof of an intellectual superiority, that is 
 not only extraordinary, but native. This dignity 
 of subjects is always sustained. If he had written 
 a volume on water-baptism, on ancient sacrifices, or 
 on the Apocalypse as teaching the end of time, there 
 would be evidence of a falling away from the spirit 
 ual eminence which seems to have been his natural 
 home. 
 
 Leaving the discussion of intellectual and moral 
 traits, we would follow Dr. Channing into his litera 
 ture, and note what to us is there most strikingly 
 exhibited. The first thing that we here notice is a 
 full command over his subject. There is not a place 
 where he seems to toil. He never appears to strug 
 gle with difficulties ; but, as a master of his theme 
 and his thoughts, he advances with firmness and 
 ease. On this we would not enlarge ; but \vould 
 allude to it, in passing, as the greatest quality of 
 good writing, and as the most indubious sign of 
 power. 
 
 Another feature of his writings is the wide views 
 taken of the subjects discussed. A truth is followed 
 into a wide range. Hence, in part, has arisen the 
 charge of diffuseness. But, in the great range of 
 nature, there is no truth remaining in solitude, none 
 belonging to a corner. Every truth has a large 
 range ; and ought not its discussion to bear some 
 evidence of this fact ? Ought it not to be followed
 
 CHANNING. 101 
 
 out in writing, somewhat as it courses along through 
 nature and the life of man ? Style, in this respect, 
 is, and should be, modified by the order of thought 
 in which a writer deals. The end to be gained is 
 the best impression on other minds ; and, if a writer 
 deals in great ethical thoughts, and in modes to 
 which most are not accustomed, he should avoid a 
 cramping of the spirit of truth by over-condensation, 
 should allow one idea to stand by itself long 
 enough to be seen and measured, before another is 
 permitted to crowd it away. Considering the views 
 in which Dr. Channing dealt, we are not sure that 
 a greater number, brought into the same space, 
 would be to the benefit of the reader. The skies are 
 not less beautiful for the space between its stars. If 
 he had used a different order of truths, the same style 
 perhaps might be moderately liable to this charge ; 
 but, as it is, the manner adopted best subserves the 
 end in view. 
 
 In reading this author, we are conscious of being 
 penetrated by his influence. This power to diffuse 
 himself through the mind he instructs, and to take 
 command of the whole attention, is characteristic of 
 Channing. He carries us along by a power which 
 almost seems our own. He pervades us more than 
 do most authors. This ability, shared by all masters 
 of the human heart, was his in an eminent degree. 
 But it was not the passions that he moved ; for his 
 influence hushed their tumults, and brought on a 
 calm ; a calm in which a serene intellect and the 
 moral feelings found th. j ir true supremacy. We 
 remember to have seen tears fall from the eyes of an 
 9*
 
 102 
 
 CHANNINO. 
 
 uneducated man, as he read a page of Channing on 
 the offices of the conscience ; but sympathy, which 
 he only moves through the higher sentiments, was 
 not his fort. He spoke to what is deeper than tears ; 
 and, though we may forget the argument, we cannot 
 forget the influence. 
 
 Authors differ much in the power here mentioned. 
 But the best examples go to prove, that the more 
 living and perfect a human spirit is, the easier it can 
 penetrate and pervade other spirits ; and no fact 
 bears a mightier sway over the fate of an author, 
 than the kind of sentiments, thoughts, and feelings, 
 he awakens in others. No writer can be otherwise 
 than immortal who moves what is truest, deepest, 
 holiest, and best, in man. From this may we not 
 safely predict the future influences of Dr. Channing ? 
 For the soul shall never change, and who has reached 
 more successfully its divinest springs ? 
 
 In the literature of Channing, there is a constant 
 dignity of style as well as of subjects. This is always 
 Avell sustained. Gifted minds have high and low 
 moments. At one time, thought flows into words 
 and sentences, as the rivers run ; at another, all is 
 drought and vacancy. Men are unequal to them 
 selves. But in no page or paragraph does Channing 
 falter in the usual beauty and perfection of his style, 
 which always corresponds to the dignity of his 
 thoughts. Not that all are equally eloquent or for 
 cible, for thought and speech vary as parts of the 
 landscape ; but the same formative, perfecting genius 
 is always present. Were we to seek a fault of style 
 in one so far above the fear of criticism, it would be
 
 CHANNING. 
 
 found in the sameness with which he often passes 
 from one view to another ; as, for instance, " I pro 
 ceed to state another reason," trifling to be sure, 
 but perhaps not wholly unworthy of regard. 
 
 But were we asked to state the great virtue of 
 Channing's literature, we should unhesitatingly refer 
 to its MORAL INSPIRATION. There is a sense, unneces 
 sary to be explained, in which the best human writ 
 ings are inspired ; and no inspiration is so perfect as 
 that in which the love of the true and the good 
 accordantly blend ; as that in which reason, imagi 
 nation, love, and conscience, pour forth as clear 
 streams into one transparent river. The lesson he 
 gives to literature is, that nothing is so good as truth, 
 nothing is so powerful, nothing is so beautiful as 
 truth, truth as really perceived and felt without 
 exaggeration or fictitious embellishments. No age 
 is without a living literature, when sincerity dictates 
 the pen ; whilst every death -state of popular litera 
 ture is marked by the absence of this. From Chan- 
 ning, therefore, may be educed a good suggestion 
 and a plain reproof. The soul must speak, or litera 
 ture is a dead November leaf. 
 
 His unwillingness to linger about his past writings, 
 to read much of the criticisms and laudations passed 
 upon himself, has in it a deep and noble meaning. 
 He would turn his eyes away from his past limits. 
 In forgetfulness and separation from past moods and 
 positions, the mind may be more freely open to new 
 and fresh conceptions of truth. He who is wedded 
 to old associations cannot behold nature anew, can 
 not be free to welcome fresh revelations, cannot hail
 
 104 
 
 CHANNING. 
 
 with joy and gladness the daAvn and sunrise of new 
 spiritual days. There is a bondage of the past over 
 the present, when its perfectness is acknowledged, of 
 which the sensitive mind cannot be ignorant ; and, as 
 a guard against self-complacency, as a dread of the 
 limitations of the past, this indifference and inatten 
 tion is beautifully expressive of true self-comprehen 
 sion and of the purest aspiration. 
 
 From these general views, let us proceed to his 
 particular works. And, opening among his early 
 efforts, the review of Milton first commands attention. 
 We regard this as the most able of his reviews, whilst 
 that on Fenelon abounds most in perfect and uncon 
 scious touches of moral description. Here we see 
 Milton in his full dimension. The analysis of his 
 mind and character is happy and clear. Channing, 
 it would seem, was peculiarly adapted to measure a 
 mind like Milton's; for the proximity of mental states, 
 which is always the essential law of a perfect mutual 
 appreciation, was not wanting here. In the character 
 of each, the moral and religious elements prevailed 
 in strong and exalted power. This is, indeed, a 
 great point. Also the sense of sublimity, the chief 
 fact of Milton's intellect, existed, as we have else 
 where intimated, in much vigor in Channing, though 
 never poured forth in an unrestrained action, but 
 guided into the service of composition demanding 
 the ascendency of reasoning power. Each was alive 
 to the beautiful ; each was an independent mind, 
 sought truth sincerely, and in some important re 
 spects, though in different centuries, came to like 
 conclusions.
 
 CHANNING. 105 
 
 In portraying the nature and mission of poetry, 
 Dr. Charming assigns it the highest place, and dis 
 covers its great sources in the soul itself; in the aspi 
 rations, thirsts, yearnings of the immortal powers; 
 in the passions of a great nature ; in the longings of 
 the spirit for a more powerful, joyful, and perfect 
 state of existence ; whilst the present life, and the 
 splendors of the visible universe, are tributary to this 
 spiritual and refining energy. 
 
 " It is not true, that the poet paints a life which does 
 not exist. He only extracts and concentrates, as it were, 
 life's ethereal essence, arrests and condenses its volatile 
 fragrance, brings together its scattered beauties, and pro 
 longs its more refined but evanescent joys. ... It reveals 
 to us the loveliness of nature, brings back the freshness 
 of early feeling, revives the relish of simple pleasures, 
 keeps unquenched the enthusiasm which warmed the 
 spring-time of our being, refines youthful love, strength 
 ens our interest in human nature by vivid delineations of 
 its tenderest and loftiest feelings, spreads our sympathies 
 over all classes of society, knits us by new ties with uni 
 versal being, and, through the brightness of its prophetic 
 visions, helps faith to lay hold on the future life." 
 
 The light manner in which he treats the opinion, 
 that poetry flourishes most in an uncultivated soil, 
 that its creations are brightest from an early and 
 half-barbarous state, has, we know, a few strong 
 opponents. But the whole controversy, in relation 
 to poetry as flourishing best in a cultivated or in an 
 uncultivated age, resolves itself into agreement, when 
 both parties inquire for the kind of poetry that be 
 longs to each of these periods. Homeric poetry
 
 108 CHANN1NG. 
 
 may best flourish in a ruder age ; for it is the poetry 
 of passion and of outward life. But poetry giving 
 expression to man's more spiritual longings, conflicts, 
 aspirations, and joys, flourishes best in later time. 
 " Paradise Lost" could not. have been produced in 
 a rude and undeveloped stage of the human mind. 
 
 But the causes which contributed to his success in 
 the review of Milton did not unerringly guide him 
 in his review of Bonaparte. Notwithstanding the 
 ability that article displays, it is too evident that 
 Napoleon is not exhibited in his true and proper 
 dimension. Without pausing to object to that se 
 verity which strips the hero of every moral virtue, 
 we regret that the least injustice, from so high a 
 source, should have been done to his mental great 
 ness. We can see that his love of power came to 
 bear a mighty sway over his better sentiments. But 
 a mind may be still great and mighty, whether acting 
 with or against the moral laws. In this review, 
 Chanriing speaks of the different kinds of greatness, 
 which he distinguishes as Moral, Intellectual, and 
 Active, or " the greatness of action." He gives 
 Bonaparte a place in the last and lowest order of 
 these divisions, " the greatness of action; " in which, 
 however, he is not disposed " to consider him as pre 
 eminent."* Without instituting a controversy on 
 these distinctions, Avhose convenience in the theo 
 retic confinement of Napoleon to the least honorable 
 of the three is not a little remarkable, we would 
 assume, that, as outward action is as directly from 
 the mind as the Iliad or the Odyssey, it may, as 
 
 * Works, vol. i. p. 120.
 
 CHANNING. 107 
 
 infallibly as they, attest its greatness or inferiority. 
 Whatever metaphysical distinctions may be made, it 
 is certain that greatness comes of the mind. What 
 else has any from which it may come ? It is this that 
 directs every grosser power. Bonaparte origin 
 ating his own plans and directing their execution, in 
 the midst of the greatest difficulties often, and here 
 and there uttering a sentence all sparkling with a 
 penetrating genius that comprehended men could 
 give as sound evidence of mental greatness as the 
 writer of books, or the constructor of new creeds 
 and philosophical theories. The world has believed 
 no lie in the homage it has paid to its heroes. If 
 these have had the greatest influence, the reason is, 
 they have been in reality its greatest men. Napo 
 leon, as a man of action, was not the executive or 
 the administrative man chiefly. He was the origin 
 ating actor. 
 
 But to return to Dr. Channing. He begins his 
 article by remarks on Scott's Life of Napoleon, and 
 affirms for it the " great merit of impartiality." He 
 also says, " We think, that his laudable fear of 
 wronging the enemy of his country, joined to an 
 admiration of the dazzling qualities of Napoleon, 
 has led him to soften unduly the crimes of his hero, 
 and to give more favorable views than the truth will 
 warrant." * At this time the public opinion was not 
 formed in relation to Scott's Life of Bonaparte ; and 
 the single fact, that Dr. Channing could accord to it 
 the rare merit of impartiality, and gently accuse the 
 author of giving more favorable impressions of his 
 * Works, vol. i. p. 70.
 
 108 CHANNING. 
 
 hero than the truth will warrant, prepares us to say, 
 that, under the views from which he wrote, he was 
 not thoroughly capable of giving us Bonaparte as he 
 was. 
 
 Nevertheless, there is considerable justice in this 
 review. Allowances are made for the disastrous 
 influences of Bonaparte's early education ; and the 
 essay is evidently prompted by a desire to arrest 
 the moral injury which a character like his, viewed 
 through the popular admiration of a great conqueror, 
 was calculated to create. Before the firm grandeur 
 of Channing's moral ideas, the conqueror of nations 
 seems to stand before a master. But, after all the 
 merits and excellences of this article are enumerated, 
 the conviction remains, that there is a back-ground of 
 truth that does not appear ; that others should share 
 the blame exclusively laid upon him ; that his legal 
 benefactions on France, his conversations at St. He 
 lena, and other manifestations of his mind, not here 
 to be named, conspire to make his greatness far more 
 than a secondary greatness of action. The convic 
 tion still remains, that he had a greatness of intellect, 
 creative and strong, such indeed as few men have 
 ever possessed ; and, whilst we should persevere in 
 the doctrines of justice and peace, we should dis 
 criminate between a servile homage to English liter 
 ature, and a real reverence for the principles of Avhich 
 war is ever the infraction. Napoleon belonged to a 
 revolutionary age, and though more good than evil 
 to Europe probably came from his movement, yet it 
 is well that his career was arrested ; for no man 
 would nobly have used such an extent of power as
 
 CHANNING. 109 
 
 the success of his plans would have gained. But, 
 bad as Napoleon may have been, let us not speak of 
 him as one who broke in upon the calm of the uni 
 verse from no cause but his own vicious will, as if 
 there was nothing out of him tending that way. 
 
 The Remarks on Fenelon breathe a gentle and 
 deep spirituality. A character like Fenelon, Chan- 
 ning could not fail to draw to the life. The saint of 
 divine virtues, the hero in whom the moral or the 
 religious element prevailed, could not be otherwise 
 than thoroughly comprehended by a moral genius so 
 penetrating as his. In giving us Fenelon, Channing 
 has unconsciously drawn the picture of himself. 
 
 But time would fail to speak of each particular 
 effort. These early productions, published as Mis 
 cellanies, strike us on the whole as being, more than 
 his later writings, severe labors of intellect. Those 
 of after-life evince a greater mingling of the affec 
 tions with the current of reason, as both flowed on 
 in a glorious river of sublime and useful discourse. 
 The discourses on Self-culture, Spiritual Freedom, 
 Revealed Religion, the Imitableness of Christ's Char 
 acter, the Laboring Classes, and the Immortal Life, 
 must live with the language in which they are written. 
 We know of nothing in the English literature with 
 which to compare them. It is true that only a few 
 great principles flow through all these ; but this is 
 not unnatural. Great principles are comparatively 
 few, whilst their illustrations and exhibitions are 
 many. In nature, science has told us that there 
 are but about fifty-six simple elements. But see 
 what hundreds, thousands, and millions of combina- 
 10
 
 110 CHANNING. 
 
 tions and embodiments of these does nature present 
 you ! If you deal in principles wholly, be content 
 with an infinite few. But if you work with facts, 
 things, particulars, and details, you have an infinite 
 many. 
 
 The people felt that there was no such preacher 
 as he. Without any attempt at eloquence, or display 
 of any sort, and through the calm and earnest utter 
 ance of his real thoughts, through deep sincerity and 
 living faith, through a wide range of thought and 
 love, he gained a power over many minds more 
 valuable than the throne of the Csesars. His idea of 
 the minister's vocation was most exalted. All eter 
 nity overshadowed it with sacred importance. A 
 frequent hearer thus speaks : 
 
 " No preacher, perhaps, had ever at command the stores 
 of a richer imagination. But all was sober in his admin 
 istration of religion. To utter the truth, the naked truth, 
 was his highest aim and ambition. The effect he was 
 willing to leave with God, and the heart of the hearer. 
 He never seemed to labor so much, to enforce truth, as to 
 utter it ; but this kind of utterance, this swelling and 
 almost bursting of the inmost heart to express itself, 
 was the most powerful enforcement." Memoirs, vol. ii. 
 p. 288. 
 
 It was said, that he and Buckminster introduced a 
 new era in preaching ; that he read the Scriptures 
 and sacred poetry with peculiar pathos ; that a 
 mild and melancholy beauty tinged his manner ; 
 that " the most trifling saw in him a man thoroughly 
 in. earnest ; " that the fire and enthusiasm of his na-
 
 CHANNING. 
 
 Ill 
 
 ture Avere subdued ; that his appeals to conscience 
 were solemn and thoroughly penetrating. 
 
 " He saw, and made others see, that life was no play- 
 place, but a magnificent scene for glorifying God, and a 
 rich school for the education of spirits. He showed to 
 men the substance of which surrounding appearances are 
 the shadow ; and, behind transient experiences, revealed 
 the spiritual laws which they express. Thus he gathered 
 round him an enlarging circle of devoted friends, who 
 gratefully felt that they drank in from him new life." 
 Memoirs, vol. i. p. 206. 
 
 We would simply add to these testimonies the 
 fact, that Dr. Channing caused himself to be wholly 
 forgotten, through the interest he awakened in his 
 subject. 
 
 As a religious controversialist, Dr. Channing has 
 certainly some of the most exalted traits ; for, on all 
 topics of theological difference, he sought a position 
 far above the pride, prejudice, and passion, which 
 controversy excites. He was conscious of great 
 danger on this point. Hence, he found his opponent 
 in the abstract errors he opposed, in the best argu 
 ments by which they were maintained, and not in 
 individuals. He left his thoughts to speak for them 
 selves. He was fearless of the results, having given 
 his matured reasons, in the full confidence of a due 
 appreciation. This is controversy in its noblest 
 form. 
 
 Another fact bespeaks the great man far more 
 than the most ingenious array of argument, which is 
 the firm conviction he entertained, that all parties
 
 112 CHANNING. 
 
 were fighting in a mist ; that, to end their contro 
 versies, all must have a light which none as yet 
 possess. 
 
 " I apprehend," said he, " that there is but one way of 
 putting an end to our present dissensions ; and that is 
 not the triumph of any existing system over all others, 
 hut the acquisition of something better than the best we 
 now have. The way to reconcile men who are quarrelling 
 in a fog is to let in some new light. It seems to me we 
 are fighting now in a low misty valley. A man who 
 should gain some elevated position, overlooking our ima 
 gined heights of thought, and who would lead us after 
 him, would set us all right in a short time." Memoirs, 
 vol. ii. p. 281. 
 
 It is rare, very rare, that any man, who takes a part 
 in topics controverted, ever gets a position high 
 enough from which to make this discovery. 
 
 In discussions theological, the great points are con 
 sidered, the main principles elucidated, and urged 
 upon the subject in hand. You will observe, that 
 he abounds less than most writers in quotations of 
 chapter and verse. His few Bible quotations are 
 such as express a general and an important truth. 
 This is probably to be accounted for by his confi 
 dence in the general strain of Scripture, rather than 
 in the use commonly made of detached passages ; 
 and also by his usual habit of bringing nature and 
 the soul under tribute to his views. All sects quote 
 chapter and verse ; and he whose reasoning is chiefly 
 the marshalling of these, never leads you profoundly 
 through any one subject. The Baltimore sermon is
 
 CHANNING. 113 
 
 decidedly the greatest of his controversial efforts. 
 It concentrates much intellectual force. Clearness, 
 vigor, and comprehensiveness, are its conspicuous 
 qualities. Its boldness and depth of argument, its 
 candor and its charity, its expression of great prin 
 ciples, its philosophical distinctions and harmonious 
 currents of nature, revelation, and consciousness, con 
 stitute it one of the ablest efforts of which theological 
 controversy may boast. 
 
 The two discourses on Revealed Religion, or the 
 Genuineness and Truth df Christianity, strike us as 
 original, as a peculiar combination of ideas, such 
 as none but he could have given. In the first dis 
 course, the reason he assigns for believing in Chris 
 tianity is because it is true. In the second, he en 
 deavors to show that Christianity is rational ; that it 
 accords with reason, and is founded on it. For a 
 moment we have hesitated, when reading these pre 
 mises, and asked, Do we not give reason too great 
 a task when we assign it the entire work of knowing 
 Christianity ? Is Christianity founded on one faculty ? 
 Is it to be known by one faculty, though the greatest ? 
 It must require all the faculties to know Christianity ; 
 for it is a religion of the whole soul. But, when we 
 see the writer seeking its accordance with all the 
 spiritual wants of our nature, we are admonished to 
 the more enlarged use of this word reason, as 
 meaning all we know, and all of which we are con 
 scious. 
 
 It is plain that Dr. Channing was a supernatural- 
 ist. He believed firmly in miracles, and maintained 
 that Christianity was miraculously unfolded to man ; 
 10*
 
 114 CHANN1NG. 
 
 that Christ pre-existed, and was supernaturally 
 given ; that he is in advance of all ages, and is the 
 Saviour through all time. 
 
 " Under him," said he, " the great battle of the human 
 race is to he fought." " In regard to miracles, I never 
 had the least difficulty. The grand miracle, as often has 
 heen said, is the perfect, divine character of Christ ; and 
 to such a being a miraculous mode of manifestation seems 
 natural. It is by no figure of speech that I call Christ 
 miraculous. He was more separate from other men, than 
 his acts from other acts. He was the perfect image of 
 God, the perfection of the spiritual nature." Memoirs, 
 vol. ii. p. 449. 
 
 But the supernatural in Dr. Channing's premises is, 
 so to speak, very natural ; for he never infers discord 
 between the two. No man dwells more on the har 
 mony between Christianity and nature ; and he would 
 as soon imagine, that the laws of life in the flower 
 and the verdant fields are violated by heaven's 
 light and rain, as that the laws of mind are violated 
 by the influence of this supernatural religion. 
 
 This subject has excited some controversy since 
 Dr. Channing died. But no great light, as yet, has 
 come. Perhaps more than ever do thoughtful men 
 accept of the supernatural, on the ground that it 
 accords with nature ; for the confidence of man in 
 this is very deep, and seems to underlie every other 
 confidence. Mankind have always believed in what 
 they have regarded as supernatural phenomena. 
 This is indeed a great fact ; for the race is wiser than 
 the few. Every earnest controversy implies a want
 
 CHANNING. 115 
 
 from which it springs. There has been an unphilo- 
 sophical and a superstitious excess of supernatural- 
 ism in the popular belief; and this excess, through 
 re-action, has brought up the other extreme of natu 
 ralism. Perhaps the final result will be, that the 
 accordance between nature and the miraculous fea 
 tures of Christianity will be better known ; that 
 supernaturalism will cease to be a contra-naturalism 
 in human belief. But this is not the place for such 
 problems. Channing is a supernaturalist, whilst the 
 flowers of nature bloom perpetually in his path. 
 
 Channing, we think, should be read by statesmen, 
 not because he has enriched political science with 
 any new thoughts, but because the worth and dig 
 nity of man's nature, which is the great idea illumi 
 nating his page, is the basis of political liberty, virtue, 
 and wisdom. All wrongs done to the people imply 
 the absence of this truth. Moral right does not pre 
 dominate in matters of legislation. Hence slavery 
 and despotism. Channing carries the subject of 
 politics into a higher and better atmosphere than we 
 elsewhere find it. The spirit his writings breathe 
 toward the helpless and the suffering ; the absolute 
 greatness of human rights, though vested in the 
 poorest, humblest son of earth ; the supremacy of 
 moral rectitude in a people's happiness ; and the wide 
 fraternal sympathy which, irrespective of territorial 
 and arbitrary distinctions, should bind mankind to 
 gether, we would see enthroned in the wisdom of 
 every man who lifts his hand to direct the affairs, 
 and to form the character, of nations and states. 
 Though a thorough republican, he had no great faith
 
 116 CHANNINO. 
 
 in the people as legislators, and far less in kings and 
 aristocracies. He asked both to rule as little as pos 
 sible, and said that, in the present state of the world, 
 King Log seems the best king. He believed that we 
 should improve our sovereign, rather than boast of 
 his infallibility. 
 
 We have said that Dr. Channing was not a pioneer 
 of new and revolutionary thoughts, but was one of 
 whom reformers might take counsel. But, as all 
 truth is reformatory; come when and how it may, he 
 was, in the sense heretofore explained, a reformer of 
 ideas, sentiments, and actions. And his whole cha 
 racter, as a reformer, is so perfectly drawn in a sin 
 gle sentence of his pen, that we here present it : 
 " It is not by assailing the low in practice or princi 
 ple, but by manifesting the high, that the great work 
 of reformation is to go on."* There is not another 
 sentence which makes so perfect a history of his 
 whole mental manifestation as this. His life was 
 singularly a manifestation of the high, the high in 
 idea, purpose, and spirit, the serene elevation of 
 which is carried through the most exciting subjects. 
 Turn to his work on Slavery, written when con 
 science, prejudice, and passion, were everywhere 
 bursting into flames, and you are at once conscious 
 of being in a cool yet sunny air of reflection, where 
 you see and feel the deep wrong of oppression ; the 
 indestructible, universal law of freedom inscribed by 
 the Creator on the human heart ; and where you 
 cannot utter words of passion against the slaveholder. 
 
 * Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 377.
 
 CHANNING. 117 
 
 Here is the philosophy of reform. Man can rise 
 above no particular state, except through that which 
 is above it. 
 
 We have now presented Dr. Channing in what to 
 us appears the chief characteristics of his moral and 
 intellectual character. We have followed him into 
 his literature, and have spoken of the principal traits 
 of his writings. Let us now inquire, How did such 
 a mind grow up ? What were its epochs of pro 
 gress ? 
 
 This brings us more extensively into historical 
 particulars. W. E. Channing was born, April 7, 
 1780, on the island of Rhode Island, Newport. From 
 this place came the first impressions of life and na 
 ture to his mind. His father was a lawyer of fair 
 standing ; his mother was a woman of plain strong 
 sense, with more than common sincerity and inde 
 pendence of character. William" is said to have 
 been rather dull, though grave and reflective. He 
 loved the lonely ramble on the sea-beach, and de 
 lighted in venturesome sports. At the age of thir 
 teen, his father died, leaving in humble circumstances 
 a wife and nine children. This event spoke to 
 William of self-reliance. A year previous, he had 
 been sent to New London to prepare for college, 
 under the care of his uncle, a clergyman who, it 
 seems, had green earth on which to stand and open 
 fields, though surrounded by the Lybian waste of a 
 gloomy theology, whose stern proscriptiveness had 
 overclouded the State Avith intolerance. It was 
 here, in the awakening movement of a religious 
 revival, that young Channing's religious life takes
 
 118 CHANNING. 
 
 date ; so that New London, to him, was always 
 sacred in the memory of a great spiritual fact. This 
 period of life, on which the circumstances of society, 
 events, and the forms of external nature, exert crea 
 tive influence, is indeed important to all, though 
 most depends on the quality and internal action of 
 the mind itself. Then it extracts for its growth the 
 precious* of all surrounding scenes. Nature was 
 beautiful, society was interesting there ; and, in this 
 first era of Channing's history, there is enough of 
 the disinterested, the courageous, the reverential, the 
 kind, to exhibit the prophetic blossoms of the autum 
 nal fruit. 
 
 The second epoch of his mental growth com 
 mences, we think, in his fifteenth year, or thereabouts, 
 not from any thing belonging to the college-life he 
 was leading at Harvard at the time, but from the 
 dawn of the great idea of human capacity for perfec 
 tion on his mind. This is worthy of distinct remem 
 brance. Simple was the circumstance that called 
 it into being, the reading of thoughts, kindred 
 though by no means equal to his own, from Hutch- 
 inson. Human nature then rose to his view in the 
 brightness of its obscured divinity. Ever after, man 
 became his great theme, to whom his speech and 
 pen always turned in deep and hopeful interest, as 
 indeed do all the means of nature, providence, and 
 Christianity. If the flowering of the plant, growing 
 from its own life, opens an era in its advancement, 
 so did the dawn of this truth in the history of Chan- 
 nirig. Other facts belonging to this period are also 
 interesting. Shakspeare, the sun of drama, poured
 
 CHANNING. 
 
 his beams upon the intellect of the students, Chan- 
 ning among them ; whilst Price saved him from 
 materialism, and gave him the doctrine of ideas. 
 Politics aroused his talents. He excelled in the 
 classics, and, on leaving, took the highest honors of 
 the college. Driven to examine the evidences of 
 Christianity by the prevalence of French infidelity, 
 he selected, in his senior year, the ministry for his 
 profession. Nor is that a meaningless page in this 
 early history which records his stay among the good 
 Virginians, where he saw nature and society under 
 new forms, heard an order of eloquence thrilling and 
 free, met a freedom of manners, a generosity of 
 character, a democracy of political sentiment, a social 
 enthusiasm, a high-mindedness, and spontaneity of 
 virtues, that deeply interested and instructed him. 
 This contact with the very antipodes of the cere 
 monial reserve and Federalistic tendencies of society 
 whence he came, made no useless impress on this 
 New England youth, although the absence of self- 
 care and the excess of study ruined his excellent 
 constitution for life. 
 
 But he returned to Newport, and, unaided by a 
 teacher, studied theology. As the scenery of this 
 place was so eminently creative in the formation of 
 his character, we will extract a few lines touching 
 this point : 
 
 " I must bless God for the place of my nativity ; for, 
 as my mind unfolded, I became more and more alive to 
 the beautiful scenery which now attracts strangers to our 
 island. My first liberty was used in roaming over the 
 neighboring hills and shores ; and, amid this glorious
 
 120 CHANNING. 
 
 nature, that love of liberty sprang up which has gained 
 strength within me to this hour. I early received im 
 pressions of the great and the beautiful, which, I believe, 
 have had no small influence in determining my modes of 
 thought and habits of life. In this town, I pursued for a 
 time my studies of theology. I had no professor or teacher 
 to guide me ; but I had two noble places of study. One 
 was yonder beautiful edifice, now so frequented and so 
 useful as a public library ; then so deserted, that I spent 
 day after day, and sometimes week after week, amidst its 
 dusty volumes, without interruption from a single visitor. 
 The other was yonder beach, the roar of which has so 
 often mingled with the worship of this place, my daily 
 resort, dear to me in the sunshine, still more attractive in 
 the storm. Seldom do I visit it now, without thinking 
 of the work which there, in the sight of that beauty, in 
 the sound of those waves, was carried on in my soul. No 
 spot on earth has helped so much to form me as that 
 beach. There I lifted up my voice in praise amidst the 
 tempest. There, softened by beauty, I poured out my 
 thanksgiving and contrite confessions. There, in rever 
 ential sympathy with the mighty power around me, I 
 became conscious of power within. There, struggling 
 thoughts and emotions broke forth, as if moved to utter 
 ance by nature's eloquence of winds and waves. There, 
 began a happiness surpassing all worldly pleasures, all 
 gifts of fortune, the happiness of communing with the 
 works of God. I believe that the worship of which I have 
 this day spoken was aided in my own soul by the scenes 
 in which my early life was passed." 
 
 Few, indeed, ever pause to reflect on the intellec 
 tual and moral contributions of the external creation. 
 Perhaps no man fully knows the extent of its crea-
 
 CHANNING. 121 
 
 tive, developing influence ; whilst it is certain, that 
 no one unfolds his spirit in the beauty of its powers, 
 whose mind is not open and alive to all the great 
 and beautiful impressions of the surrounding uni 
 verse. That Channing found an aid to his spiritual 
 growth in nature ; that he strove to imbibe the spirit 
 its forms express ; that he felt a lively sympathy in 
 the outward world, which increased by time, is 
 plainly manifest. We have now gained an impor 
 tant fact in the formatory processes by which the 
 character of Channing was formed. 
 
 In 1803, he was ordained pastor of the Federal- 
 street Church, Boston. This was a new school for 
 the mind and heart. His feeble society became 
 large and prosperous. His rules of self-discipline 
 exhibit a stern faithfulness, a deeply serious spirit, of 
 which the plain fault was that of governing himself 
 too much, repressing spontaneousness by excess of 
 discipline. Still his mind was gradually reaching 
 out like the banian-tree into various subjects, his eye 
 meantime practically surveying all classes. Then 
 came along, after a time, that war about tenets which 
 swept like a storm, and assailed spotless Christian 
 characters for heresy of opinion. Hitherto Channing 
 had moved in peace with all his neighbors ; but, 
 when he saw that a crisis of freedom had actually 
 come, he took his firm stand in behalf of human pro 
 gress and liberty. His fearlessness and his prudence 
 are alike prominent in this conflict between new and 
 old, freedom and authority, reason and tradition. 
 
 In June, 1814, he was married ; in 1822, visited 
 England, Italy, and Switzerland ; and, in 1823, re- 
 11
 
 122 CHANNING. 
 
 turned to his people. The following year, he was as 
 sisted by the ordination of Rev. Ezra Stiles Gannett, 
 as associate pastor, which relation continued during 
 the life of the principal pastor, on whose death he 
 was chosen to fill his place. This faithful aid from 
 Mr. Gannett is not unconnected with the excellence 
 of Channing's sermons ; for it gave him time to 
 mature and elaborate every topic on which he chose 
 to write. 
 
 But we will draw to a close this statement of 
 particular events. Indeed, his great events are his 
 thoughts, and cannot therefore be well thrown into 
 history. The great reforms felt the weight of his 
 influence, though no society could claim his name 
 on its roll of membership. He lifted up his voice in 
 the name of peace, laid open the passions whence 
 wars proceed, stripped their blood-stained victories 
 of false glory, and sought to turn the hearts of men 
 to an age of peace. Temperance, education, slav 
 ery, indeed, all the great oppressive evils forbid 
 ding the development of humanity, called out his 
 energies. His voice in the pulpit, as his health would 
 allow, continued to utter his calm thoughts. His in 
 terest in the laboring classes continued to increase. 
 He came to care less for criticism, and more for 
 seizing every opportunity for doing good. He be 
 friended and aided feeble denominations who were 
 struggling to represent some important truths. But 
 a volume is needed to express these things. 
 
 The publication of a few reviews and essays, 
 snatched as they were from the denominational lim 
 its of the paper in which they appeared, and thrown
 
 CHANNING. 123 
 
 into foreign periodicals and magazines, created an 
 enviable fame ; and, from the manner in which he 
 struck those chords in the human soul which vibrate 
 alike in every country and age, he came to be heard 
 by nations. From the heart of Germany, his works 
 were called for when living ; whilst with Coleridge, 
 Wordsworth, and several of the choicest spirits of 
 foreign lands, a literary fellowship subsisted. " I 
 envy you for two objects of interest you will 
 meet in America," said an intelligent lady to her 
 friend, at the foot of the Alps, on hearing of his 
 intention to visit this country. Being asked what 
 they were, she replied, " Niagara and Channing." 
 Thus was Channing one of the few great lights of 
 our country's literature that may be seen from afar, 
 perhaps we should say, the prominent one of this 
 number. But from this lofty eminence it is interest 
 ing to send a downward glance to the fact, that his 
 first compositions were awkward and ungraceful; 
 that it was through care and discipline that he gained 
 the ease and sustained dignity of style which give 
 to his literature an almost unrivalled charm of ex 
 cellence. 
 
 In the brief life of man, we opine, but three gen 
 eral epochs may be found in the progress of the best 
 minds. The first and second, in the life of Channing, 
 are plain ; and the third dates in that period, men 
 tioned in the Memoirs, when anxious self-discipline 
 gave way to freedom ; when, to use the language 
 of the author, his -manner grew "less ministerial, 
 and more manly ; " when his mind took a wider range 
 of naturalness of freedom.
 
 124 CHANNING. 
 
 The religious, devout element of Channing's char 
 acter sheds its hues over all his moral discourse. 
 Strong faith in the Invisible, in the Spiritual, in the 
 presence of God, is the very tone of all his writings. 
 Sensualism grasps the outward only, but never pene 
 trates the surface of the Seen far enough to adore 
 the Divine and the Eternal. But this ready recogni 
 tion of the Invisible, the best proof of a religious 
 spirit, is as clear in the rnind of Channing as the 
 evening star in its heaven. Heaven is a state, he 
 thought, far more than a place. The spiritual world 
 he conceived, might be all around us, and every 
 where, though hid from human vision by the present 
 obscuring veil of flesh. The fountain of worship 
 flows clear from his heart. 
 
 But of what great truths do the mind and char 
 acter of Channing instruct us ? What does the 
 manner of their growth practically teach ? They 
 yield us three ideas: 1. A noble QUALITY of na 
 ture on which to build ; 2. A settled PURPOSE, from 
 early life, to seek the perfection of the mind, of the 
 character, as the end of being ; 3. A constant living 
 UNION with good and great objects, as the means. 
 Within these we may limit the whole philosophy of 
 Channing's life and greatness. On the first of these 
 ideas, we remark, that Channing shared somewhat 
 largely of those qualities which make men abori 
 gines of goodness ; as the school-mate said, " It is 
 not half so hard for him to be good as for me." 
 Neither is it half so hard for some minds to seize on 
 great thoughts and express them happily, as for 
 others. But this doctrine has its limits, and in the
 
 CHANNING. 125 
 
 present case must not be so applied as to dispense 
 with heroic virtue against temptation, of intellect 
 against difficulty. The second of these thoughts 
 seems every thing, since none can rise above their 
 aims, whilst many fall below them. We discover a 
 correspondence between grandeur of aim and na 
 tive excellence ; but we frequently see noble natures 
 through self-neglect outstripped by those less gifted, 
 in consequence of a more settled determination to 
 win the highest prize. The universe is a half-blank 
 to one of no high and settled aim ; whilst to him who 
 has it, all things revolve about it, as planets round 
 their sun. 
 
 It takes greatness to make greatness. Souls par 
 take of the objects on which they live. If Newton 
 or Leibnitz had never lifted their minds above trifles, 
 the world had never known them but as men of 
 trifles. This life of Channing to us is eloquent, 
 because it is a constant devotion to great objects ; 
 because man, nature, God, duty, and Christianity, 
 commanded the sincere and faithful action of his 
 mind. This opening of soul to all things, this living 
 on great objects in meekness and humility, is good, 
 is the path that leads up into the mount of God. 
 
 Not long since, we noticed a remark in an English 
 work, in which he was styled the American Chal 
 mers. But the points of contrast are probably 
 greater than those of similitude. In style, the long, 
 complicated sentences, abundant verbiage, and ima 
 gery of Chalmers, contrast widely with the plain 
 style, the rich but sparing figure, and the simple 
 language of Channing. Chalmers writes more ex- 
 11*
 
 126 CHANN1NG. 
 
 clusively for the student. Charming writes for the 
 scholar also ; but is far more popular. His ideas 
 stand out in bolder relief; there is a more perfect 
 blending of intellect and soul, a more quickening 
 energy of faith and love, and certainly a higher 
 exhibition of universal principles. 
 
 Between him and Priestley, the points of likeness 
 and of contrast are striking ; of which the former are 
 few, the latter many. Both were alike in simplicity 
 and purity of character. Each had a similar loyalty 
 to honest conviction, a like disinterested love for 
 truth and fearless utterance of opinions. Channing, 
 however, is more cautious in his statements and 
 premises, and far less venturesome in speculation. 
 Priestley had, we judge, the greater metaphysical and 
 philosophical powers. He had more intellect for 
 theorization, with a severer discipline, and greater 
 vigor of the logical faculty. Still we believe that 
 Channing would see more truth, and separate it 
 more freely from error, than Priestley. He made 
 sure his premises, was misled by no desire to 
 establish a theory. His eye was single ; therefore 
 his whole body was full of light. 
 
 Priestley had more searching, minute philosophical 
 genius for the penetration and comprehension of the 
 material world, than Channing. He enriched some 
 of the physical sciences by important discoveries, 
 and could get more science from nature than Chan 
 ning. But the latter could get from it more spiritual 
 truth, more moral expression. The prophet brings 
 out more divine representation than the philosopher. 
 Priestley had matter, whilst Channing had spirit, for
 
 CHANNING, 127 
 
 his basis. Here is the great contrast. It is wider 
 than the poles. Priestley reduced divine agency to 
 an operation of law : with Channing, God has a 
 spiritual access, direct, immediate to the soul. He 
 wrote far less than Priestley ; but, writing from higher 
 spiritual views, and from a higher life in his own 
 mind, he is, we think, destined to influence mankind 
 incomparably more. 
 
 Since Jonathan Edwards, Channing is the most 
 distinguished of American divines. Edwards had in 
 his character a deep religious power, a most firm 
 faith in the doctrines he preached. Hence the great 
 effects of his ministry. As a writer, he was far more 
 abstruse and metaphysical than Channing. But his 
 order of themes, as a whole, was probably unequal 
 to his. If his intellect was deeper or stronger, it 
 certainly was not so expansive, nor of so fine and so 
 high a quality of power, as that of Dr. Channing. He 
 was a giant, with his freedom limited by the impreg 
 nable walls of his firm theology ; and, through his 
 devotion to particular tenets, was prevented from 
 standing under that open sky where the universal 
 truth of God and nature could speak through his 
 mind as freely as it did in the discourse of Channing. 
 Through Edwards, you behold Deity in the stern 
 grandeur of sovereignty : through Channing, he 
 dawns upon you as the " Parental Divinity," in the 
 light of an unbounded love. Man, with the former, 
 is, by nature, wholly corrupt : man, with the latter, 
 inherits a nature of noblest elements, and abounds in 
 every age with bright evidences of his divine original. 
 But we will not go into further theological contrasts.
 
 128 CHANNING. 
 
 The deep religious element of Edwards evidently 
 needed the liberalization, the union with nature, the 
 tempering of love, which gave elevation, enlargement, 
 and power to the writings of Channing. Though 
 compelled by truth to say, that Channing had a 
 higher quality, a wider expansion, and a more quick 
 ening energy of mind and general influence than 
 Edwards, we thankfully and joyfully concede, that 
 each did a useful and necessary work for his day. 
 
 The question has been asked, Will Channing's 
 name go down to future times with increasing bright 
 ness ? or is it now in its zenith ? We profess no 
 skill in prophecy ; but certainly this age must have 
 grown more moral, disinterested, and intellectual, 
 than we have believed it to be, if such a writer as 
 he is as yet thoroughly appreciated. With its selfish 
 and sensual attributes still remaining, we must infer, 
 that much distance must yet be passed before the 
 spirit of the age can meet his spirit in perfect appre 
 ciation. 
 
 If the sources of his future influences were in local 
 establishments or in sectarian controversies, it would 
 be easy to answer this question. But such is not the 
 fact. He set forth great and universal truths, which 
 cannot die ; and, as a successful representative of 
 these, we must believe his name is yet to brighten. 
 Wherein he has greatness, it belongs not to the tran 
 sient, but to the perpetual. We would also add, 
 that the catholic tendency of the human mind in 
 creases. Sects and nations feel this. And, as man 
 ascends from the local to the universal, such an 
 author must accumulate power. Life animates his
 
 CHANNING. 
 
 page ; beauty belongs to his style ; and, what is not 
 least, naturalness belongs to his character and to 
 his communication. The world slowly outgrows a 
 mind of which these three things may be affirmed. 
 Reading Channing puts us into communion with the 
 goodness, greatness, beauty, and sublimity of God 
 and the creation ; and whoever will do this, we will 
 call great, for he is so to us. 
 
 Perhaps no one fact attests his genuine superiority 
 more than the growing and widening tendency of 
 his mind through the later period of his life. It 
 is natural for age to retrench itself behind old limits 
 and opinions. But it was the reverse with Chan 
 ning. His hopes for mankind grew brighter, his 
 natural enthusiasm stronger, and his views enlarged, 
 as he came into what is usually called the autumn 
 and winter of life. He Avas more than ever impa 
 tient of restraint, was looking over new fields of 
 thought, and standing in the radius of a widening 
 circle of views, when called from this to the higher 
 world. This to us is a beautiful and highly signi 
 ficant fact. 
 
 But we draw our remarks to a close. We have 
 imperfectly discussed a pure life, a great mind. We 
 are more than rewarded, if our remarks may incite 
 a new interest in his character and works; for we 
 are conscious of writing for many who have never 
 tarried long among his thoughts. It is too true, that 
 he is still praised by some who know him from his 
 reputation, much more than from j what he has com 
 municated to the world. 
 
 The last spring of Dr. Channing's life was passed
 
 130 CHANNING. 
 
 in central Pennsylvania, among the beauties of Wy 
 oming, the Juniata, and the Susquehannah vales. 
 The summer was passed in Lenox, Mass, where, on 
 a bright day, his voice was heard in public for the 
 last time. His topic was West India Emancipation. 
 In September, he started for Boston, through the 
 passes of the Green Mountains, but was arrested at 
 Bennington by an attack of fever, from which he 
 never recovered. Twenty-six days he lingered, ex 
 hibiting the same elevated mind and feelings charac 
 teristic of healthier times. Bat, on Sunday, Oct. 2, 
 1842, amidst the calm beauties of autumn, when the 
 sun had gone down, his gold still radiant on the 
 clouds and hills, he looked through his window 
 eastward into his reflected beams for a time, then 
 closed his eyes in death's mysterious sleep. These 
 last days wore the calmness of a Christian's faith. 
 
 After suitable services in the Federal-street Church, 
 Boston, at twilight, " among the shades of Mount 
 Auburn," were deposited his remains, where a white 
 marble monument, with appropriate inscriptions, now 
 tells the visitor and stranger of the burial-place of 
 William Ellery Channing. Good brother ! thy voice 
 is not silent ! Long may we hear it in deep, celestial 
 tones summoning us to nobler faith and courage ! 
 Long may it be the reproof of our selfishness and 
 unbelief ! 
 
 If one word may express the true position of this 
 man when among us, it is this, that, more than 
 any other moral teacher of his time, was he the 
 Prophet of the Age.
 
 131 
 
 NATURAL THEOLOGY. 
 
 " THE BIBLE DOCTRINE OF GOD, JESUS CHKIST, THE HOLY SPIRIT, 
 ATONEMENT, FAITH, ELECTION. To which is prefixed, Some 
 Thoughts on Natural Theology, and the Truth of Revelation. 
 By WILLIAM KINXADE. New York, 1829." 
 
 IT is always unsafe to judge of what a master knows, 
 by what his pupil has learned. Particularly is it 
 unsafe so to do, when the latter has sadly misspent 
 his time, and has but carelessly heeded the assidui 
 ties of his teacher in his behalf. What Nature and 
 the Soul may be able to teach, under better circum 
 stances on the part of the learner, and what men 
 have actually learned, are questions that should never 
 be confounded. They are very different, and much 
 that may be affirmed of the one cannot be said of 
 the other. If angels were our teachers, their success 
 would necessarily be limited by the capacity, atten 
 tion, and diligence of their pupils. 
 
 Forgetting this distinction between the master's 
 knowledge and the pupil's attainment, men have 
 judged, that through natural light the idea of a 
 Supreme Being and of an immortal life could never 
 dawn upon the world ; that the facts of mind and 
 matter could not evidence a Divine existence and a 
 future life. Taking nature as a teacher, we are not,
 
 132 NATURAL THEOLOGY. 
 
 as already observed, to limit its capacity to what 
 mankind have already learned ; for every year adds 
 some new discoveries. New truths are constantly 
 being unfolded. Nature is but partially explored. 
 And that mankind are destined to know more of its 
 hidden truths than they have heretofore attained is 
 indeed a safe position, if we but remember the inex- 
 haustibleness of its science, and the present narrow 
 boundaries of all that may be called human know 
 ledge. 
 
 But, even measuring the master by the scholar, 
 we must come to no mean conclusions in reference 
 to nature as a religious teacher ; for man has not 
 only gathered the various wealth of science from its 
 laws, but has quite universally received the ideas of 
 a Supreme Power, of moral right, of an overruling 
 Providence, and of eternal life. These ideas of 
 natural theology may be traced through every form 
 of superstitious belief, and in lands perfectly ignorant 
 of the Hebrew and the Christian Scriptures. Poly 
 theism, whilst it affirmed a sort of divine omnipres 
 ence in nature through its multiplicity of gods, never 
 denied a Divine Unity ; for it always broke up the 
 equality of the gods by giving them a Supreme. 
 This must always be. The natural world instructs 
 men in this theory of centralization, when every solar 
 system that is formed leaves a sun, a sovereign cen 
 tre mightier than all the rest. And human society 
 is always shaping itself after this view. There is 
 always a first in every group ; and especially would 
 men not fail to acknowledge a Sovereign Deity over 
 all the rest, in those places and ages when the ten-
 
 NATURAL THEOLOGY. 133 
 
 dencies of the human mind were so strongly given 
 to despotism, when individual dignity was unac 
 knowledged. For the great fact of human inequality 
 would appear enlarged in mythology, until the pagan 
 worshipper, among his thousand altars, should lift 
 his eyes and direct his prayers to one greater than 
 all. Paganism confirms the idea of One Supreme, 
 even when its worship has been the most extensively 
 polytheistic. 
 
 The gigantic fact in the Jewish sacred develop 
 ment was, that they worshipped the spiritual One, 
 whilst the surrounding nations worshipped the mate 
 rial Many. This fact, among a gross people, still 
 towers up the monumental proof of a divine light 
 shining upon them. God must have spoken through 
 other than voices of nature ; for Jews were never 
 very gifted interpreters of such voices. But Socrates 
 in Greece believed in one God. So did Confucius, 
 five centuries before the Christian era. Where is the 
 evidence that either owed any thing to the Hebrew 
 Scriptures ? Nature, though poorly understood, has 
 taught mankind infinitely more than tradition ever 
 contained ; and we are yet uninstructed in the pro 
 priety of demanding, that all persons and ages should 
 receive a given truth through the same channel. St. 
 Paul, standing on the same idea, alleged that the 
 heathen of his day, who had no written revelation, 
 were a law to themselves, learning the eternal power 
 and Godhead from the visible creation.* 
 
 But let us meet the question at once, Is nature 
 
 * Rom. i. 20. 
 12
 
 134 NATURAL THEOLOGY. 
 
 competent to teach the being of God ? Can it assure 
 us of his attributes ? Can it teach his immortality, 
 his goodness ? Can it assure us of his unity ? These 
 are great questions ; and we are aware, that a differ 
 ence of opinion has obtained among those whose 
 capacity and love of truth entitle them to high 
 respect. 
 
 When we ask what nature is competent to teach, 
 we have some idea in our minds of what nature is. 
 And I apprehend, that, in common discourse, the 
 only idea attached to this word by many refers 
 wholly to the external universe ; and, in measuring 
 what nature may teach, they only attempt to ascer 
 tain what may be learned from observations and 
 reasonings on the external world. But this is far 
 from being a just ideal, since the human soul is a 
 higher order of nature than suns and stars ; for the 
 magnificence and glory of these would be unknown 
 but for an evident superiority of soul which is akin 
 to all the magnificence and glory of the visible world. 
 The soul, it should not be forgotten, in all its aspirar 
 lions and elements, is as much nature as the seas 
 and the continents ; and, inasmuch as its order of 
 faculties is highest, more light on problems of theo 
 logy should be expected from it than from the 
 material earth and heavens. Human worship, phi 
 losophy, goodness, hope, as phenomena of the soul 
 (so all human history), belong to the lawful data of 
 just reasoning on this topic. 
 
 The clearest, ablest, and, we will add, the most 
 original statement of the argument, setting forth the 
 inability of nature to suggest and confirm the idea
 
 NATURAL THEOLOGY. 135 
 
 of one God and the immortal life to any portion of 
 mankind, that has ever come under our notice, is 
 found in the writings of the Rev. William Kinkade ; 
 and a part of this article will therefore be a review 
 of his argument, entitled " Natural Theology." The 
 bold vigor of the author's mind has given a freshness 
 and a commanding force to his views, that make 
 his argument deeply interesting ; and we think we 
 are not mistaken in the conviction, that very many 
 of his readers have founded their sacred philosophy 
 upon it. 
 
 In the vigorous style of the following lines, our 
 author's position is announced : 
 
 " There is not one inch of rational ground between 
 Christianity and Atheism. Independently of the Bible, 
 or some supernatural revelation, we could never ascertain 
 the existence of God. Many Christians contend, that the 
 existence of God may be learned from the works of nature ; 
 but I believe they all confess, that they cannot teach any 
 correct knowledge of his attributes. Then I contend, 
 that, if nature can give us no certain knowledge of his 
 attributes, she can give us no assurance of his present 
 existence, because, if she cannot assure us that he pos 
 sesses the attribute of immortality, she cannot assure us 
 that he now lives. We never could ascertain from the 
 works of nature, that God is immortal ; but, on the con 
 trary, reasoning from effect to cause, and seeing all his 
 works perishable, we should naturally be led to think 
 that the author would also die, because it is a maxim in 
 the laws of nature, that like produces like ; and if God is 
 like the things he has produced, he must be mortal: 
 therefore, for any thing that nature teaches to the con 
 trary, he may have died long ago."
 
 136 NATURAL THEOLOGY. 
 
 The great regularity with which nature now moves 
 is to our author no proof that Deity now exists, since 
 the system might continue to operate from the prin 
 ciples at first received from the Creator, or it might 
 be governed by subordinate agents. 
 
 No man probably ever paid a higher homage to 
 revelation, as distinguished from nature, than the 
 author whose words are here quoted ; and whatever 
 may appear as irreverence to the latter, as a me 
 dium of religious light, only evinces the fulness of 
 his belief in the supernatural order of divine commu 
 nication. 
 
 In the premises assumed, it should be denied that 
 " all confess that the works of nature cannot teach 
 any correct knowledge of his attributes ; " for this 
 admission has never been general among the advo 
 cates of natural theology. Indeed, -what kind of a 
 universe must that be which should be able to teach 
 us the being of God, and remain silent concerning his 
 attributes ? The being of God, when taught, implies 
 that we have an idea of him as God. If nature 
 teaches the existence of a Creator, it is impossible 
 that she should be silent concerning his attributes ; 
 for it is a certain and necessary inference, that a 
 Creator must have as much Avisdom and might as 
 his creation displays. He may have more, but he 
 cannot have less. As the external universe is bound 
 less both to the imagination and the sense, and as it 
 is everywhere the expression of a wisdom and power 
 greater than we may attempt to measure, we must, 
 on the simple and necessary principles of reason, 
 ascribe the same illimitable wisdom and might to the
 
 NATURAL THEOLOGY. 137 
 
 Being from whom the creation proceeded. How 
 could a grand poem, that should convince us of the 
 existence of a great poetic genius, fail to exhibit 
 the attributes of his intellect ? How can any great 
 work fail to express some principal attributes in the 
 originating mind ? It is in itself impossible. Who, 
 being assured of the mere fact that God made the 
 worlds, could look around on this varied earth filled 
 with the supplies of every want, and lift his eyes to 
 the serene fields of stars above, without seeing, in 
 the midst of the endless adaptations of things, the 
 infallible proofs that a Being, capable of originating 
 a universe like this, must be wise and mighty, beyond 
 the capacity of man to express ? We object, there 
 fore, to the concession claimed in the premises by 
 Mr. Kinkade. It is plainly arid palpably unreason 
 able. Neither has it generally been made. 
 
 But does nature, under the easiest and simplest 
 interpretations, in the absence of revelation, intimate 
 the mortality of its Creator, even on the principle 
 that like produces like ? For, in judging of what 
 nature teaches, we must take it as a whole, at 
 least, we should judge from all that we know of it, 
 and riot from a part. Now, does nature in fact ever 
 perish ? Is there, strictly speaking, a mortal and 
 perishing element in all its wide and beautiful do 
 main ? Science and philosophy have long since 
 answered these questions in the negative. The great 
 balance of nature preaches permanency ; for the 
 laws that preside over all material changes are death 
 less. All the natural laws and all substance are, so 
 
 far as we may know, immortal ; whence it follows, 
 12*
 
 138 NATURAL THEOLOGY. 
 
 that Deity, judged from his works alone, is also 
 everlasting. 
 
 It is plain that the writer of the argument now 
 considered, made that limited portion of nature, 
 which exhibits the phenomena of dissolution to each 
 generation, to stand as the type of all nature. The 
 flowers wither, the trees decay. Organizations of 
 life dissolve before us. But how small a fraction 
 of universal nature are these ! Do the stars fade 
 before the eyes of any generation ? Does the mild 
 queen of night perish from the skies ? Is not this the 
 sun that poured light into the path of the first man ? 
 Does nature ever grow old ? And does nature ever 
 die ? Nature is always full of deathless energy, is 
 always young, and never allows an element or a 
 law to perish. The law of decay or dissolution, 
 being one of the laws of nature, is a part of the crea 
 tion of God to him who is assured that God made 
 the world ; and to suppose the possibility of the 
 Creator falling a victim to its power is to suppose 
 him inferior to a law of his own creation, which is 
 manifestly absurd. Reason alone teaches that dis 
 solution ministers to a benevolent end, that it is 
 necessary that the vegetable, animal, and human 
 races should die ; and to suppose it possible that a 
 Being, capable of originating a universe like this, 
 should not be able to resist the agency of one of his 
 own limited laws, so as to preserve his own exist 
 ence, is to us the summit of folly, to which reason 
 and nature can render no support. And to imagine 
 that creation could go on by the direction of inferior 
 agents is in itself a suicidal position, since all beings
 
 NATURAL THEOLOGY. 
 
 139 
 
 and agents under God are necessarily included in 
 the word creation, and therefore cannot be logically 
 distinguished from it as governors. 
 
 In further support of the utter destitution of all 
 spiritual light in nature, the author says, " If we 
 should admit that our Creator exists, and that he is 
 wise and merciful, still, if we have no assurance that 
 he is immutable, there can be no certainty that he 
 will exist in future, or that, if he should, he will then 
 be wise and merciful." * This affirmation is founded 
 on the previous assumption, that nature cannot teach 
 the unchangeability of its author ; but, as we have 
 shown, the vastness of the idea involved in the con 
 ception of Creator implies that he is superior to the 
 universe (which, indeed, is greater than man is able 
 to know), the inference of reason is plainly in favor 
 of his immutability. Nay, more, it is certain that 
 a Being able to create a law is able to control and 
 direct it. And the mere fact that such a Being 
 exists, as wise and merciful, is evidence that he will 
 always so remain ; for the preachings of nature pro 
 claim most of all the Eternal, the Changeless, the 
 Everlasting. "Like," it is true, "produces like;" 
 though too much must not be inferred from this, else 
 we may demand too great a resemblance between 
 man and the temples he builds. But we welcome 
 the principle fully for argument-sake, and say that 
 " nature remains, all living and throbbing with 
 mighty and unexhausted forces ; and, if God is like 
 it, he also lives unexhausted and mighty." This is 
 
 * Pare 10.
 
 140 NATURAL THEOLOGY. 
 
 the nature-sermon coming from all this vast array of 
 worlds, from the everlasting Permanence that under 
 lies and supports all phenomenal change. 
 
 " That man," says Mr. Kinkade, " without revelation, 
 could form no correct ideas of the divine attributes, is 
 clearly proved by the heathen. Although they had some 
 knowledge of God by tradition from their ancestors, yet, 
 being destitute of the Scriptures, they could form no very 
 correct ideas of his attributes ; hence, they always have, 
 and still do, ascribe to their gods the most malignant 
 passions and abominable conduct 
 
 " Rom. i. 20 has been quoted to prove, that a know 
 ledge of God may be derived from the works of creation : 
 ' For the invisible things of him, from the creation of the 
 world, are clearly seen, being understood by things that 
 are made, even his eternal power and Godhead.' It is 
 hardly probable that St. Paul intended to hold out the 
 idea, that the people of whom he then spake had received 
 their first knowledge of God from the works of nature, 
 because he must have known that they received it from 
 their parents ; of course, he only intended to hold out the 
 idea, that, to people who knew that God made the world, 
 creation is a great display of his eternal power and God 
 head. If they got their first ideas of God by viewing 
 creation, they could not have lost these ideas while they 
 kept it in view. If all my knowledge of an artist is 
 derived from viewing his works, I cannot lose that know 
 ledge, while I continue to behold those works. If the 
 knowledge of God flows from the works of nature, as a 
 stream from a fountain, the stream cannot dry up while 
 the fountain continues the same. But the apostle informs 
 us, that those people did lose the knowledge of God ; 
 that they became vain in their imaginations, and that their
 
 NATURAL THEOLOGV. 141 
 
 foolish hearts were darkened ; and that, as they did not 
 like to retain God in their knowledge, he gave them over 
 to a reprobate mind." Page 11. 
 
 The statement, that the vast millions of the pagan 
 world received all their limited light through tradi 
 tion from their ancestors, is merely assumptive. It 
 might indeed be very difficult to ascertain their most 
 remote ancestors, and, still more so, to prove that 
 tradition was the medium of their whole religious 
 intelligence. There is an historical darkness on this 
 subject that should neutralize all positive assertion 
 in relation to the general state of the heathen world. 
 That the pagan worshipper should ascribe human 
 passions to his gods is by no means strange, ad 
 mitting the hypothesis that he has some religious 
 light from nature ; for man, in every age of the world, 
 has carried into his worship a measure of the weak 
 ness and imperfection of his own character. The Jew 
 ish worshipper is also obnoxious to this charge ; for 
 human and violent passions were often ascribed to 
 the Being adored. From the necessity of the case, 
 although man's worship is the purest issue of his 
 inward life, the state of mind, in any given age 
 from which worship proceeds, exhibits itself in the 
 views adopted, and the homage given. 
 
 But is Mr. Kinkade really sound, when he says 
 that men could not lose the knowledge of God, pro 
 vided that knowledge flowed from natural sources ? 
 He says, while the sources remain, the knowledge 
 or the effect must also remain. This, indeed, might 
 be true, if intelligence came to the human mind as
 
 142 
 
 NATURAL THEOLOGY. 
 
 the river flows from its many springs ; but we are 
 conscious of a power by which we may close our 
 eyes to the brightest lights, to the truth and beauty 
 of the divinest writings, and to the many proofs of 
 that Sacred Presence which makes the universe 
 alive with worship and love. Do we not often see 
 men becoming stupid and dead to the noblest influ 
 ences of the natural world ? Do they not grow deaf 
 to its highest teachings ? Are not the soul's more 
 sacred voices often silenced and drowned by the 
 lower passions, and by the degradation and thral 
 dom of sin ? God is invisible. Mankind, to know 
 him, must seek him ; must stand in the light of his 
 various manifestation ; and must, from the soul within 
 and from the world without, welcome the light that 
 reflects his wisdom, purity, goodness, and power. 
 There is, we think, a deep philosophical truth in the 
 idea that we really know God, from a Avisdom, 
 purity, justice, and love in our own breasts, that are 
 kindred to these attributes as infinitely expanded in 
 him. " The pure in heart shall see God." Here 
 is the deep truth. And by it is clearly seen, that, 
 amidst the living wonders of nature, and the great 
 ness of inspired pages, men may cease to know the 
 Creator, and bow to the low and the sensual. Thus, 
 to a people who had listened to the words of Chris 
 tian apostles, St. Paul said, " Awake to righteous 
 ness, and sin not ; for some have not the knowledge 
 of God : I speak this to your shame." The whole 
 philosophy of the Gentile apostacy was fully ex 
 pressed, when the apostle alleged, that " they did not 
 like, to retain God in their knowledge ; " and a
 
 NATURAL THEOLOGY. 143 
 
 people thus inclined may turn away from him, and 
 from the evidences of his presence, far enough cer 
 tainly to be worthy of being considered as having 
 lost the knowledge of their Maker. 
 
 Another position of Mr. Kinkade is quite bold and 
 startling. He alleges, that the human mind, unaided 
 by divine revelation, might as reasonably infer, that 
 there are millions of gods, as that there is but one, 
 because the opposite character of so many things in 
 nature could not to reason suggest the idea of a 
 Divine Unity. This, indeed, may have been the 
 logic of men in times when nature was less known ; 
 although it must still be remembered, that the variety 
 characteristic of polytheistic worship, was pervaded 
 by the unity of some sovereign Jove, who held a 
 sway of power over all. Let us further state the 
 premises and conclusions of the author before us : 
 
 " If the book of nature could teach the knowledge of 
 God correctly, then all the heathen, drawing their know 
 ledge from the same source, would think of him alike, 
 and would all believe in but one God. But we find that 
 they are all polytheists, and differ widely in relation to 
 the number and attributes of their gods. 
 
 " I have never talked with a person who would testify, 
 that his first ideas of God were formed from the study of 
 nature ; but, on the contrary, I have uniformly found, that 
 mankind, whether savage or civilized, receive their first 
 ideas of the Deity from their ancestors. If a man, in 
 possession of all the senses of mature age, who had never 
 seen nor heard of a creature like himself, should, in five 
 minutes after he got his existence, see a water-mill, he 
 would be as unable to account for it, as for the stream
 
 144 NATURAL THEOLOGY. 
 
 that propelled it ; but, after he would get acquainted with 
 men, and learn from them that a certain man made the 
 mill, that information would enable him to discover in 
 the machine the skill of the artist. Just so, after we are 
 informed by revelation that there is a God, and that he 
 made the worlds, that information gives the works of 
 nature a voice to display to us the wisdom of the Creator ; 
 and every trace of intelligence we discover in the mecha 
 nism of nature is a corroborating proof of his wisdom. 
 
 " If a man who had never seen nor heard of a book 
 should find the history of the Arabs containing the Al 
 coran, written in Arabic, it would not inform him that 
 there was such a man as Mahomet, or that there is such 
 a nation as the Arabs. And, if he should keep it his life 
 time, and never meet with a person who had seen any 
 other book except it, and never came in contact with 
 any person who had seen or heard of Mahomet or of the 
 Arabs, and should never see or hear them himself, he 
 would die, not only without the knowledge of their reli 
 gion and laws, but also without the knowledge of their 
 existence. So we may have the volume of nature before 
 us till we die ; and, unless the author should reveal him 
 self directly or through prophets, it could never teach us 
 his existence, much less his attributes and laws. If the 
 man who found this book should meet with an Arabian 
 who could teach him to read Arabic perfectly, then that 
 knowledge would enable him to learn from the book the 
 existence, religion, laws, and customs of those people. 
 Just so, after God had revealed himself to us by the pro 
 phets, and informed us that he made all things, then, 
 through that information, ' the heavens declare the glory 
 of God, and the firmament showeth his handiwork.' " 
 
 We will not pause to sift the logic of these strong
 
 NATURAL THEOLOGY. 145 
 
 paragraphs, until we have heard the author plainly 
 state the reason why nature is so dumb and speech 
 less concerning the greatest truth that man or angel 
 ever received. Here it is : 
 
 " Although there is nothing in the Bible contrary to 
 reason, yet its truths never could have been discovered by 
 reason, because men cannot reason without something to 
 reason on. The best mechanic cannot construct a ma 
 chine, without materials ; the blind man who never saw 
 cannot reason on colors ; nor can the deaf man who never 
 heard, reason on sounds. Just so I think of those who 
 never heard of God by revelation : they could reason no 
 thing about him. The reason why nature cannot impart to 
 us the knowledge of God is because she does not possess it 
 herself. Neither the earth, the water, nor the air, knows 
 God : they know nothing. How, then, can they commu 
 nicate to us the most sublime of all knowledge ? " 
 
 If we may be allowed to speak a word of the 
 venerable author's intellect, before we examine the 
 ground covered by the foregoing extracts, we should 
 utter the impression, that, whilst it is uncommonly 
 strong and clear, it is almost destitute of what may 
 be termed a wide philosophical analysis. Where 
 this is possessed, there will be at least a sufficient 
 comprehensiveness in the premises selected. No one 
 can read the last paragraph quoted, without being 
 convinced that the mere outward elements, such as 
 water, earth, and air, comprised all that he meant 
 by this word of most unlimited meaning, nature. 
 This idea appears frequently in the entire article, in 
 which there is not a sentence intimating that the 
 13
 
 146 NATURAL THEOLOGY. 
 
 human soul, which is our only power of intelligence, 
 is a part of nature, when spoken of as a teacher. 
 This alone is a great deficiency, and constantly com 
 pels an erroneous reasoning. 
 
 But, to go back to the supposed intimations of 
 nature in favor of many gods. To us no inference 
 is more unnatural, or more strongly contradicted by 
 a reasonable interpretation of the facts of the uni 
 verse falling under our notice. Man, the chief of 
 these facts, is himself a unit ; and, from the unity 
 of his own consciousness, he naturally and neces 
 sarily infers the unity of the Creator. And that, in 
 attempting to solve the problem of creation, reason 
 should rest in One Supreme, is a result most natural 
 from the strong tendency of the human mind to find 
 a centre, to recognize one as greater than all. This 
 tendency, strengthened by the very constitution of 
 nature external, and of society, whether in great 
 masses or in small groups, is always breaking forth 
 into human reasoning. There will be a monarch - 
 summit blending in harmony with what is less. 
 Mont Blanc symbolizes a universal truth. But, waiv 
 ing the consideration that a natural tendency moves 
 the mind to fix on One Supreme, aided by a condi 
 tion of things which never fails to carry our thoughts 
 from positive on to superlative, let us advance to 
 draw from nature a direct proof that the attributes 
 of only One God are stamped upon it. 
 
 To begin with the outward universe, do we not 
 see everywhere exhibited the traces of order and of 
 uniformity? You cannot ordinarily travel a thou 
 sand miles over the area of human government, with-
 
 NATURAL THEOLOGY. 147 
 
 out being impressed, from its contradictions, with a 
 multiplicity of lawgivers and administrators. But 
 travel, study, and examine the natural world, tread 
 the soil of every clime, sail on every sea, and 
 watch the stars that brighten the night of every 
 season and the skies of every land, penetrating 
 nature with all the science that ages have accumu 
 lated, and no clash or contradiction of laws will 
 force upon your thoughts a multiplicity of lawgivers. 
 Light and gravitation are the same in Canton as in 
 New England. Accordant laws are always unfold 
 ing, and no new fact can suggest a different Deity 
 from him whom the old and the known facts pro 
 claim. Were we gifted to look through the material 
 world, and to trace its order from system to system, 
 and to receive knowledge of all the laws that reign 
 over the now unknown fields of immensity, we 
 should not, from the new developments of nature 
 and truth, be compelled to stand opposed to what 
 we knew before, but only discover in these new 
 evidences of the wisdom, power, and love of Him 
 whom the more familiar scenes of previous observa 
 tion had proclaimed as God. Now, this harmony of 
 nature proves something about the origin of the uni 
 verse it pervades ; and what can it more naturally 
 teach, than that it has one great Source ? What can 
 it more plainly teach, than that the universe sprung 
 from One Omniscient Being ? Where are the dis 
 cords and contradictions that even intimate to a 
 wide form of reason, that nature originated in more 
 than one creative Mind? There are none. They 
 are parts of an infinite harmony.
 
 148 NATURAL THEOLOGY. 
 
 Without applying the same view to the laws 
 which pervade the empire of mind, we would pass 
 on to notice another of our author's arguments, 
 namely, that if nature could give to men a know 
 ledge of God, then all the heathen, drawing their 
 views from the same source, would think alike con 
 cerning him. This needs but a single remark ; for it 
 is clear, that men of every grade of intelligence are 
 capable of interpreting nature differently, not only in 
 relation to things sacred and religious, but those which 
 are purely matters of science. The Bible, says our 
 author, is the only and true source of light. But do 
 all who read it think alike of the Deity and his attri 
 butes ? 
 
 Further support is sought by Mr. Kinkade in the 
 circumstance, that none with whom he has ever con 
 versed would testify that their first ideas of God 
 were received from nature, but that they invariably 
 derived them from their ancestors. This, at first 
 view, appears a weighty fact. But what is the con 
 clusion it justifies ? That nature never suggested to 
 men the being and presence of God ? This we very 
 much doubt. For it might be said of each and all 
 with whom Mr. Kinkade ever conversed, that their 
 first idea of the sun, as being the centre of the solar 
 system, was not received from nature, but from pa 
 rents, guardians, and teachers. Would this prove 
 nature unable to teach Copernicus, that the sun was 
 central in his position among his family of worlds ? 
 From the very condition of mankind, commencing 
 in infancy, their first ideas on most subjects must 
 come from persons further advanced than themselves
 
 NATURAL THEOLOGY. 149 
 
 in knowledge and experience. But this can never 
 prove how much or how little mankind, through 
 the long ages of their existence, have learned from 
 intuition and reflection, and study of the external 
 world. Yet is it true, that any man ever knew God 
 through any traditional communication ? . To listen 
 to a report, however hallowed by antiquity, saying 
 that a wise, kind, and infinite Being made the world, 
 is not to know such a Being. To know the name 
 which men bestow upon the Creator is not to know 
 him. Truly speaking, no man ever knew any thing 
 more about God than he himself has observed, 
 thought, and felt, of his nature and presence. It is 
 only from experience that this knowledge comes. 
 Through the wisdom and goodness of the soul within 
 us, we are able to conceive of the Creator's wisdom 
 and goodness. The wisdom and goodness of God 
 appear in all his works. Once shut out from the 
 soul these living rays from the external world, and 
 take away from it the consciousness of qualities simi 
 lar to those it adores in God, and all the sacred 
 traditions that ever Avon the ear from Adam until 
 now, though poured forth in an angel's eloquence, 
 could never impart to a human being the idea of 
 God. The elements through which success is pos 
 sible would be gone. Is not God's thunder-voice from 
 the cloud better than a hearsay from the olden time ? 
 Is not this mighty, living, boundless, and beautiful 
 universe, with the worshipful action of the soul, a 
 nobler proof that God exists, than a mere report of 
 what our ancestors believed ? 
 
 The illustrations through which Mr. Kinkade un- 
 13*
 
 150 NATURAL THEOLOGY. 
 
 folds his views add no new argument to his position, 
 although they set it very forcibly before us. That 
 man, however, should be supposed to be as ignorant 
 of nature, without direct revelation, as the individ 
 ual he supposes is of the machine and the stream 
 propelling it, is to us a conjecture as much at war 
 with our reason, as it is with the experience and 
 history of the race. That the volume of nature, so 
 called, should be to mankind, whose very life is 
 written upon its pages, as dead a speech as is the 
 Arabic volume to him who has never heard of a book 
 or known a letter, is also full of the same darkness 
 that enters into all his figures on this topic. 
 
 We should now have done with the reasonings of 
 Mr. Kinkade, did not his strongest argument remain 
 to be stated. It is in substance this : Nothing in 
 the empire of nature can grow without a seed ; 
 neither can ideas spring from nothing. Man must 
 have previous materials for every character he con 
 structs, for every theory he builds. Now, the elements 
 out of which the idea of God may be formed not 
 being in nature, and the mind having no power to 
 originate an absolutely new idea, the mere fact that 
 the belief of his existence is found in the world 
 amounts to a proof, that revelation alone gave to 
 mankind the idea of a Creator. 
 
 This popular, and, as it would seem at first sight, 
 philosophical argument challenges us to analyze our 
 noblest conceptions of Deity, to ascertain whether 
 the incapacity of man to originate a new idea is any 
 proof that none unvisited by divine revelation could 
 ever have believed in their Creator.
 
 NATURAL THEOLOGY. 
 
 What idea or view of God is it, we ask, that has 
 no previous elements for its construction in man, and 
 in the world about him ? for different ideas are 
 theoretically avowed. What attributes are there 
 belonging to him, of whose quality man knows no 
 thing from other sources ? These must be pointed 
 out, or the claim instituted falls to the ground. Is it 
 the mere idea of self-existent Being ? No : it cannot 
 be this. For the idea of Being, and intelligent Being 
 also, is taught by the existence of every man ; and 
 the abstract view of self-existence is suggested, so 
 far as we are capable of its comprehension, by a 
 reasoning process with which even children are not 
 unfamiliar, that demands the cause for every cause ; 
 a process that always forces the weary mind to rest 
 on an Uncaused, or Self-existent Deity. 
 
 Is it the idea of creation that he knows not from 
 elements within his reach ? Certainly not ; for man, 
 in a limited and qualified sense, creates. Surely he 
 must have this idea from what he knows of origina 
 tion, or he could not receive it from a book, or 
 ascribe it to his Maker. We say God is a being 
 unlimitedly wise, good, mighty, and benevolent. 
 We say he is pure, is infinite and eternal. We call 
 him just and merciful. He is omnipresent. These 
 are the principal ideas that enter the minds of the 
 intelligent and the devout, as they bow the knee of 
 worship in his earthly temples, and lift the voice 
 of praise amidst the terror-striking storm, or in tran 
 quil moods meditate on his mercies, which are in 
 countless numbers strewn along the earth and 
 skies.
 
 152 NATURAL THEOLOGY, 
 
 We rejoice that our Father in heaven has placed 
 in our nature, and in the creation around us, all the 
 necessary elements for knowing him. For this is 
 the only condition on Avhich a divine revelation is 
 possible. Man can receive no idea from Heaven, 
 except he has something in his own previous experi 
 ence through which he may receive it. Man from 
 his own soul learns what wisdom is. He knows 
 more than he can express. He sees also the silent 
 works of a mighty wisdom in the seasons, in the 
 days, in the ten thousand operations of the world 
 about him ; and, lifting his eyes to the troops of stars 
 that come out to guard the sleeping earth, and 
 expanding through the greatness he beholds, he calls 
 this wisdom infinite. 
 
 Thus also does he know goodness, purity, bene 
 volence, mercy, justice, and power, from his own 
 experience. Man is everywhere surrounded by an 
 infinite sweep of power. How can he fail to get 
 this element of the character revelation and nature 
 assign to God ? Where, we still demand, is the ele 
 ment in the best religious belief, that has no source 
 in the human soul and in human experience ? Thus 
 far we cannot find it. Is it the idea of the Infinite ? 
 Surely this is a vast conception. But has not the 
 soul, under all skies where it has had much develop 
 ment, exhibited evidence of having this vast thought ? 
 Yes : there is a sense of the Infinite in the soul itself, 
 its own powers sharing of the illimitable and the 
 godlike. The boundlessness of time and space, as 
 well as the vast and mighty forms of sensuous na 
 ture, also suggests this thought and feeling. Man
 
 NATURAL THEOLOGY. 
 
 knows that eternity is real ; for he cannot compass 
 time, or believe it compassible. He feels a partial 
 omnipresence of man's spirit and influence. He is 
 silent before the ubiquity of a power working in 
 matter and space. Where, therefore, is the strange 
 element in man's idea of Deity, that justifies the argu 
 ment of our intelligent and earnest author, which 
 would wholly exclude nature as a source of religious 
 knowledge, in order to draw exclusively from the 
 inspired page ? We say he thinks, loves, speaks, acts, 
 not as man thinks, loves, speaks, and acts ; but these 
 superior conceptions evidently proceed from what 
 we know of man. And to us revelation is none the 
 less sacred because the soul and the external world 
 contain the rudimental and preparatory elements 
 through which the Highest may reveal his will ; for 
 the visible world, and these primary ideas of human 
 ity, grow sacred when we contemplate them as 
 God's highway to the human heart. 
 
 We have now done with Mr. Kinkade ; having 
 met, as we think, the whole power of his argument. 
 We have used his name and reasoning for the pur 
 pose of bringing forward the strength of the extreme 
 position against the capacity of nature to reflect upon 
 the race the rays of spiritual light. He was, indeed, 
 a close student, an earnest preacher, a strong be 
 liever in the present divine influence of God over 
 man ; and, after a life of much study and self- 
 sacrifice, of original thought and preaching ; after 
 the weary toils of many missionary labors in the 
 West, to which he devoted a Herculean vigor, in the 
 autumn of 1832 he closed his eyes in death's sweet
 
 154 NATURAL THEOLOGY. 
 
 and long repose. Even his errors are interesting, 
 from taking so deep a root into religious soil. 
 
 Let us now return to positive ground. Man stands 
 upon the earth, its crowned chief, looks backward 
 and forward, above and around, where immensity 
 and the everlasting impress him. From the wants 
 of his nature, and from the darkness that envelopes 
 his origin and end, without a decided trust and 
 knowledge of God, we perceive the paramount im 
 portance of this intelligence to every human being. 
 No knowledge is so sublime, none so necessary to 
 man's highest, deepest wants. And can we think, 
 that all light that emanates from God is confined to 
 the limits of a language or a book ? Does he thus 
 shut himself out from the human race ? This cannot 
 be. He has a living and a universal speech, which 
 the nations may hear, and which, to some extent, the 
 unlettered sons of the forest and the barbarian tribes 
 of the earth have heard with reverence and awe. 
 
 We begin with simple fact. The first blow a child 
 strikes on a stone causes him to hear a sound. He 
 repeats the blow, and hears again the sound. That 
 moment he has learned a cause, and ever after will 
 ask for one when a phenomenon is presented. Thus 
 does the condition of life at first, and always after, 
 turn men into reasoners, and sets them at work in 
 finding a cause for every unknown phenomena. 
 Then the interest of the race in the problem of crea 
 tion proceeds from a simple and irrepressible source 
 within themselves, a source never exhausted. 
 
 Under this tendency, men seek to know the 
 Cause of the universe ; and the latent, deep convic-
 
 NATURAL THEOLOGY. 155 
 
 tion that lives at the bottom of this effort is, that it 
 was caused. It is not fitted to impress men as be 
 ing eternal. From the strength of the tendency just 
 named, it is utterly impossible, that large masses of 
 men should approach the natural world with any 
 other conviction, than that it was made ; and we pay 
 to this fact great homage, because it lies beneath 
 logic, and acts with the unconsciousness of a great 
 and undoubted certainty. 
 
 But what contents the mind to rest in God ? Why 
 does it not rush on further, it will be asked, and 
 demand for him a cause ? We think two reasons 
 may be assigned for this ; which are, that one de 
 mand of this kind leads to another for ever, thus 
 preventing the mind from becoming settled ; whilst 
 the very greatness of the idea of God, as filling the 
 whole soul, overshadowing man and the universe in 
 his power, so arrests it in its search of causation, so 
 fills it as being All in All, that it cannot pass beyond. 
 God is infinite. What can man conceive beyond 
 this ? An attempt to go beyond the idea of God to 
 find a greater is not to find a greater God than all 
 things proclaim, but to find a greater idea of the 
 only Infinite than the one with which he started. 
 As no man can advance beyond the infinite, so none 
 can conceive of a being or a greatness beyond the 
 One whom all things reveal. Therefore reason de 
 mands a rest of the mind in God. There are defects, 
 doubtless, in the old argument for the Divine exist 
 ence ; for, if we mistake not, it was mostly drawn 
 from the material world, and little stress has been 
 comparatively laid on the higher witness of his
 
 lOO NATURAL THEOLOGY. 
 
 being, as found speaking from the soul itself. Paley 
 is lame with his watch-symbol, which, supposing a 
 man to find, convinces him that it had a maker from 
 its completeness of design. But we approach watches 
 with the previous knowledge that men make them, 
 whilst we do not approach worlds with the previous 
 intelligence that God makes them. Perhaps it is 
 natural that the chief proofs of his being should have 
 been sought more frequently out of man ; since the 
 great majority of mankind are less inclined to reason 
 from their own souls, than from objects of perception 
 through the external senses. 
 
 There is, we think, a medium-ground on which 
 this topic should be placed. To say that supernatural 
 revelation, independent and alone, teaches all that is 
 known of God, is to forget that no revelation can be 
 made independent of nature. Nature must lend her 
 images and symbols, also her various impressions of 
 primary knowledge, or God could not reveal himself 
 to a single member of the race. The most touching 
 inspirations of the Bible constantly exhibit this in 
 debtedness to the natural world, and to the native 
 instincts and feelings of the soul they address. Then 
 to fly to the other extreme, and say that nature 
 teaches all that the wants of mankind require should 
 be taught ; to say, as many have done, that nature is 
 a sufficient and the only true teacher of religious 
 truth, is to deny all divine communication from the 
 Father of spirits, and is to contradict what the race 
 have almost universally believed. And to us the race 
 are wiser than a caste or a school. If God indeed 
 is a supernatural Being, there must be in the world's
 
 NATURAL THEOLOGY. 
 
 history some supernatural development, else the great 
 est reality has slumbered for ever. 
 
 Perhaps those who dwell on the extremes of these 
 positions would do well to consider well the diffi 
 culties which each involves. We would pause, 
 however, to point out but one inconsistency, which 
 attaches to those who allege that nature, without 
 revelation, is ignorant of God ; or that, without it, it 
 might teach in opposition to his unity, and other 
 attributes. It is this. They usually appeal to nature 
 in proof of the Divine existence and unity, after 
 they have derived these conclusions from revelation. 
 Why do this ? If nature teaches falsely before reve 
 lation comes, what evidence have we that it can teach 
 truly after ? A false witness cannot ordinarily con 
 firm a true one. If nature is totally ignorant of the 
 Creator, previous to the light of revelation being 
 reflected upon her, then all her light is borrowed. 
 Not a ray is original. Such a witness cannot even 
 confirm an inspired testimony. For a confirming 
 witness is one who knows something himself, not he 
 who can only throw back what the other told him. 
 It is from knowledge that one testimony confirms 
 another. This contradictory and suicidal appeal to 
 nature, as a witness, might be carried much further ; 
 but we only ask, why make nature teach contrary 
 things at two different times ? Would it not be well 
 to distinguish between what nature teaches, and what 
 many may foolishly infer ? In nature, God is the real 
 speaker. He teaches. And were his mediums of 
 instruction multiplied to millions more than those we 
 know, he could teach nothing but truth through 
 
 14
 
 158 NATURAL THEOLOGY. 
 
 any of them. To say, therefore, that nature teaches 
 falsely, is but another mode of saying that God 
 lies. 
 
 We pity the bewildered child of doubt, who is 
 engaged in seeking a proof that God exists. The 
 fact itself speaks an alienation from nature, a confu 
 sion of heart and mind. Nobler spirits do not ask 
 proofs ; but they see, they feel, they know the truth. 
 Still it is good to hear God's witnesses ; for they 
 speak truth, and speak it plainly. Therefore let us 
 briefly hear the four witnesses that testify of his truth 
 and presence : 
 
 1. And first, the soul itself proclaims His Being ; 
 for it contains the sacred feeling, the element of 
 worship.* How can the religious phenomena of the 
 world be accounted for without this admission ? Do 
 not the ethics of the world prove a moral nature in 
 man whence they came ? Do not the sciences prove 
 an intellectual energy as natural in him ? Philoso 
 phies prove man to be naturally a reasoning being. 
 And worship, whose altars and shrines are over all 
 the earth, proves a religious nature, without which, 
 creeds and altars had never been. 
 
 Here blossoms in the soul itself the most beautiful 
 and divine proof of G od. Worship, having root in 
 the human heart, always looks up to him. Wor 
 ship, as a fact of nature, implies a God, as the eye 
 implies light, as hunger implies food, as thirst implies 
 
 * In saying that man has by nature a religious reverence, a 
 tendency to worship, is not meant that he is always religious in 
 character. Reason is a natural power, though thousands lire 
 unreasonably.
 
 NATURAL THEOLOGY. 159 
 
 the fountain. Led by the analogy of external wants, 
 with their appropriate satisfying objects, we could 
 leave no great want of the soul unsated. Man thirsts 
 for knowledge. Behold a universe of truth, of real 
 ity ! Boundless fields of science are spread out 
 before him. Truth is a universal presence, shining 
 forth from the blue heavens, and gleaming from 
 each point and law of nature to meet a universal 
 thirst. Man loves society. Behold nature, ever 
 social, ever speaking to man his own language, ever 
 wearing the hues of his own spirit ! Behold himself 
 in neighbor, country, and world ! Man bows in 
 worship ; the sacred element stirs within his breast. 
 Behold the Supreme One, the Great Unseen, 
 whose dim shadow and likeness all this universe is 1 
 Is there the spirit of worship in humanity, and is 
 there no God ? Then the correspondence of the 
 universe is broken, and man's deepest want has no 
 object to meet and satisfy it. Then is worship an 
 error of nature. 
 
 2. The visible material world bears witness of 
 God. Its infallible proofs of design not only prove 
 a designer, but a Divine Mind appears to shine out 
 as daylight from all this visible world, from all this 
 physiognomy of God. Deeper than thought is the 
 unconscious feeling of mankind, that worlds were 
 made. Behold the races growing, dying ! Behold 
 the seasons changing in perfect order! Behold 
 worlds wheeling through the still immensity, so much 
 according to law, that exact calculations may be 
 made of the time of their revolutions ! Behold this 
 silent, vast, and perfect government of matter ! And
 
 160 NATURAL, THEOLOGY. 
 
 is there no governor ? Have these laws no law 
 giver ? " The fool hath said in his heart, There is no 
 God." Six unities prevail through the solar system, 
 which, though we cannot here stop to name them, 
 prove that no chance-action of matter could ever 
 have thrown those worlds into the relations and order 
 which they so beautifully sustain. A world without 
 a God, and a God without a world, are thoughts 
 above all others most unnatural. Nature is dead, 
 contemplated as Godless. But when you hear the 
 hymn of the stars, the praises of the fountains and 
 the sea ; when nature pours her song of life into 
 your ears, as the chaunt of the Parent- Will, and 
 when God's calm, holy, and eloquent voice fills all 
 this temple of nature in which you stand, then it is 
 that nature lives. 
 
 3. History also rises up, with hoary locks and fur 
 rowed countenance, saying, " I have seen God's foot 
 prints in the earth." Indeed it is as difficult not to 
 see God in history, as not to see him in the earth and 
 stars. For his name is woven into the life of the 
 world. Millions of altars point unto him. Then, con 
 sider the progress of the ages, in which sublimer 
 ends have been fulfilled than men have sought. 
 Sacred is this idea of God over man. It is uttered 
 in the songs, fears, hopes, and prayers of mankind. 
 Man, it is true, in the drama of history, is the visible 
 actor ; therefore his agency is more clearly discover 
 able. But the more the past is examined in its 
 various epochs and ruins, the more clearly is it seen, 
 that justice has wrought out the great problems of 
 destiny ; that evil has been subordinated to good ;
 
 NATURAL THEOLOGY. 161 
 
 that the actions of man, like the needle to the north 
 star, have vibrated to a power' above himself; and 
 that over the wild harp of time the unseen fingers of 
 the High and the Holy have swept, causing it to yield 
 the varied harmony of ages. God speaks out of the 
 past ; and, from the connection and design exhibited 
 by its eras of change, from the solemn justice that 
 addresses us from its ruins, and from its sacred hopes 
 and worship-offerings, the great idea of his presence 
 dawns upon us, like the mingling light of a thousand 
 stars, 
 
 4. But God speaks in Christ, in whose history it 
 seems that he came nearer than ever before to our 
 race. The division-gulf between the finite and the 
 infinite is passed ; and, instead of the overwhelming 
 and all-obscuring view of a Vast Infinite, the contem 
 plation of whom is not to strengthen but to over 
 power humanity, the Infinite is clothed in the hope- 
 inspiring character of Father and Friend. To doubt 
 the being of God, since Christ became a part of the 
 world's history, is to be insane. God in the soul, as 
 heretofore explained, God in outward nature, and 
 God in history, are viewed within the range of natu 
 ral theology, and are sources from which all people 
 may draw. But God in Christ is to us the highest 
 eminence of wisdom, from which is heard a voice 
 whose truth is echoed back by the mountains and 
 vales, the heights and depths of the whole creation. 
 These are living and original sources ; and whoever 
 long and earnestly drinks from them will have ver 
 dure in his thoughts, will speak and act from a real 
 energy of soul.
 
 162 NATURAL THEOLOGY. 
 
 But our natural theology is very unnatural, if it 
 causes us to feel the great distance of God. It is 
 true, we feel at times what may be called the usurp 
 ing despotism of matter ; but the natural conviction 
 is, that God is near, acting in all his works, moving 
 the universe at his will. What are the laws of na 
 ture ? They are but his modes of action. He is as 
 truly present in the weaving of the leaf of June, as in 
 the morn of creation, when " the stars sang together, 
 and the sons of God shouted for joy." Nature speaks 
 of the living, present Deity, as foreign to nothing, 
 and as working ever. 
 
 Nature, it has been said, is an inflexible, un 
 bending teacher ; which may be very true, if by 
 nature is only meant the material world. But, if 
 we include the soul in this term, as we certainly 
 should do, then nature is no longer the stern and 
 distant representative of God, but is warm, direct, 
 familiar, whilst it also wears the colors of simplicity 
 and power. But the living teacher, sent from God 
 with words of poAver, comes far more near than 
 the medium of material nature permits ; although the 
 penetrating as well as the soothing influence of 
 the earth's scenes is very great. Often nature comes 
 near our hearts, when men are unable to enter. 
 
 Man is made for a generous confidence. His na 
 ture, we believe, demands it. Questionings and 
 doubt, though they may for a time sharpen the intel 
 lect, and be useful in the formation of a noble char 
 acter, as a means of separating the mind from lifeless 
 error, are a mildew of death when made its daily 
 nourishment. As God is the greatest Being, it fol-
 
 NATURAL THEOLOGY. 
 
 lows that the idea of him is the most sublime of all 
 ideas. None is so creative. But our best idea is 
 necessarily but a low and dim conception. We shall 
 and should outgrow it, as light continues to dawn on 
 our minds. The universe exists to brighten and to 
 enlarge it. To this end Christ both lived and died. 
 He came to manifest God in wider relations than he 
 had ever been known. And as God in Christ is the 
 great exhibition of divine knowledge, we should seek 
 to study the Father in the Son. 
 
 But we shall not make the proper progress, we fear, 
 in theological science, unless we find a basis for faith 
 in nature, in what we know. We would start from 
 our own souls ; for it is through the knowledge, con 
 sciousness, and experience belonging to these, that we 
 are to apprehend and realize all the revelations of 
 God's mind and will. And, as there is a bond of 
 harmony uniting all that comes from the Creator, we 
 should fear to set at variance his word and works. 
 
 The tree of faith is stronger and more storm- 
 defying, when it takes deep root into nature's free 
 and ample soil. A deep and silent confidence in the 
 truth of natural reality pervades the breast of all ; 
 and it is only when this confidence enters into the 
 basis of religious belief that it is natural, vigorous, 
 and free. A great theological writer of the present 
 century said, "If we wishedto impoverish a man's 
 intellect, we could devise few means more effectual, 
 than to confine him to what is called a course of 
 theological reading. The very subject to which above 
 all others the writer should bring his whole strength 
 of thought and feeling, which allies itself to our no-
 
 164 NATURAL THEOLOGY* 
 
 blest faculties, to which reason, imagination, taste, 
 and genius should consecrate their noblest efforts, 
 is of all subjects treated most weakly, tamely, and 
 with least attraction." But let us account for this 
 fact. Why does such study often narrow and im 
 poverish the intellect, whilst the investigations of 
 nature tend to enrich and expand it ? Several 
 reasons perhaps may be assigned ; but the chief one 
 that strikes us with force is this, that theology, and 
 the studies appertaining to it, are too widely separ 
 ated from the genius and spirit of the Creator's works, 
 are too much isolated from the best wisdom of the 
 actual life, and do not sufficiently seek to go hand in 
 hand with the wider teachings of the human heart, 
 and of the life-awakening nature around us. In 
 short, the religious teacher must drink from the origi 
 nal fountains we have named, and must learn and 
 live the harmony that unites them. Christ must be 
 his great teacher. Theology must be naturalized, 
 must receive the light of all known truth, and be 
 enriched by the new-gained treasures of knowledge 
 to be drawn from the inexhaustible Christ, and from 
 the inexhaustible sources of the creation. Both are 
 teachers sent from God. And it strikes us as deeply 
 true, that this union of strength would close the door 
 of doubt among large portions of the thoughtful; 
 would open new and npble passages to the human 
 soul ; would enlarge, elevate, and purify the intellect 
 and the heart; would give to sacred literature the 
 freshness of a true and real life ;_ would tend to kindle 
 a genuine earnestness in the pulpit; and would, we 
 trust, if carried out, take from the religious teacher
 
 NATURAL THEOLOGY. 165 
 
 his sepulchral tones, and make the eloquence of the 
 pulpit as natural as the song of the bird, and as 
 power-inspiring as the voice of the sea. 
 
 Certainly we would welcome all light, and from 
 every source. We would know God truly in his 
 glory and loveliness. For worship is everlasting; 
 and the eternal law pervading it always stamps on 
 the character of the worshipper the moral likeness 
 of the attributes and qualities he adores. 
 
 The Bible attempts no proof of the being of God. 
 It merely asserts the fact, presuming that all assent 
 to it ; that the truth of it is so clear that no one can 
 doubt. How much nobler is the strain, " In the be 
 ginning God made the heavens and the earth," than 
 if, presuming either ignorance or doubt, the writer 
 had opened the genesis of creation by urging a 
 proof! The thoroughly convinced and assured are 
 not apt to think of doubts in others. He who says, 
 Show me a proof that truth and virtue are real, is in 
 the lowest state of mental and moral illness. And 
 he who hears not God's voices within and without, 
 and who, on an earth whose exact revolutions and 
 manifold blessings tell us of him, and under skies 
 that look down with many thousand eyes on the 
 inhabitants of earth, still watches for evidence that 
 God exists, is the subject of a morbid and self- 
 made bewilderment. Nobler natures do not call for 
 proof. They see and feel the Everlasting Divinity. 
 Many things, no doubt, ask for pity ; but who can 
 deserve it more than the poor and weary proof- 
 hunter, who cannot see his God ? Blind rBartimeus 
 could not see the sun.
 
 ESSAYS 


 
 GENIUS. 
 
 WHAT Genius and its characteristics are, what its 
 proper aims and calling, what its liabilities and 
 responsibilities, are questions of undoubted interest, 
 even to those who are compelled to conduct the in 
 vestigation without a single spark of its kindling 
 energy. We grant that genius best comprehends 
 genius; for the law that lies at the bottom of all 
 appreciation is that of kindred faculties. But, from 
 the unconsciousness that marks this mysterious 
 power, it is little prone to self-inspection ; and, report 
 ing itself only in its works, we, who are among the 
 taught and the entertained, are at Liberty to analyze 
 its properties, and to speak of them to others. 
 
 But there is a common ground on which the man 
 of genius and all others meet. He addresses the 
 consciousness existent in all, in the full hope of being 
 understood. The many admire. They are consci 
 ous of the truth that genius utters. Only they could 
 not say it. The fact that, under the most inspired 
 teaching, all are conscious of the same inward ele 
 ments ; the fact that the most gifted ones are felt to 
 be natural, and the fact that their glorification finally 
 comes from the popular mind, prove that there is 
 
 15
 
 170 GENIUS. 
 
 some sense in which the genius and his less gifted 
 brothers stand upon a common level. The law of 
 nature, just alluded to, that the mere fact of admira 
 tion implies that the admirer has in his nature that 
 which is kindred to the qualities admired, applies to 
 this case in all its force ; for it is evidently on this that 
 the possibility of admiration depends. But that all 
 men have genius in that differential sense which en 
 ables the ^Eschylus and the Shakspeare to produce, 
 does not necessarily follow, since the power to do and 
 the power to appreciate are not the same. He who 
 could not perform a miracle might detect the divine 
 presence in one wrought before his eyes. In defiance 
 of the apparent conflict, I hold the two ideas in har- 
 mony, that men of genius are few, and that the 
 admiration of the many is possible only on the 
 ground of kindred powers. 
 
 This topic belongs to that invisible nature we de 
 nominate Mind, on which volumes have been written, 
 and theories, more numerous than the planets, have 
 been multiplied. But, within the province of philoso 
 phy proper, the ability to unfold the nature of matter 
 or mind has not yet appeared, although the discovery 
 of important properties belonging to each has, for 
 ages, been a part of the knowledge of mankind. It 
 is conceded that matter and mind are the consistence 
 of the universe ; and that these, though substantially 
 different, are analogically similar, so that the reasoner 
 on mental properties may find assistance in the elo 
 quent illustrations yielded by the laws and facts of 
 nature physical. 
 
 Humanity is a unit spread out into an infinite va-
 
 GENIUS. 171 
 
 riety of gifts and powers. Perfect equality nowhere 
 exists. Worlds are not the same in size and density, 
 nor men in talents and fortunes. In the natural 
 world, the greater bodies always govern the less, as 
 the revolutions of our own solar system most clearly 
 and happily teach ; and, through a law equally uni 
 versal, the mind, great by nature and discipline, 
 becomes the mover of masses. Make all worlds of 
 the same size and density, and the motions of the 
 universe instantly cease. And there is no doubt that 
 the useful activities of the human race are promoted 
 by its great diversity of faculties, from genius in its 
 highest forms to the most limited extent of natural 
 capacity known to the common mind. But as mind 
 is of supreme value ; as the universe material, in all 
 its order and magnificence of law, is but secondary 
 and auxiliary to it ; the great man is more deeply 
 interesting and more highly sublime, than the visible 
 structure of any world that moves at the bidding of 
 Omnipotent Power. 
 
 What is Genius ? Is it a single faculty of the 
 human mind, separate from all the rest ? Is it inde 
 pendent of the other powers ? Or is it not a har 
 mony of all the faculties, a happy combination of 
 the powers common to all men ? These in their 
 place. 
 
 But where is the old family of genii that figured 
 so largely in the classical antiquity ? In the burial 
 of mythology, this beautiful conception of the Greek 
 and Roman, that gave to each man and woman 
 of the world a supernal spirit, a guiding angel, 
 through all the vicissitudes of life, is for ever gone.
 
 172 GENIUS. 
 
 The august fraternity of genii is no more. But there 
 are some truths in the old crude faith we dislike to 
 dismiss. In the coarseness of their conceptions, they 
 placed the genius out of the man, still influencing 
 him. Now, the genius is in the man. Yet it often 
 keeps back of his phenomenal character. Then 
 every man, woman, and child, had a genius. Now 
 but few claim the power indicated by this name. 
 Yet is it not true that each has, in some sense, 
 genius ? Otherwise, through what inward power 
 does the youth everywhere apprehend its presence 
 when displayed ? Genius was then divine : so is 
 it now. It was then an inspiring divinity ; no less 
 so at this day. Its agency was then for the Aveal or 
 woe of its subject. Let us keep these hints of the 
 old myth ; yes, even this, that places, as well as per 
 sons, have their genius; for they speak oracles to 
 the meditative, they utter language as various as 
 Homer and Anacreon. John Mason Good tells 
 us, that the ancient word representing genius first 
 appeared in the Hebrew, was then copied into the 
 Sanscrit, Arabic, and Chinese ; and from the east 
 ern languages it was conveyed into the Latin, and 
 from this into our own, and into nearly every lan 
 guage of modern Europe; implying, in every in 
 stance, a tutelary, a guiding, or inspiring divinity. 
 But we are at issue with the ancient in this. " There 's 
 a divinity " within us " that shapes our ends," not 
 a demon out of us, not a foreign guardian and guide 
 to fortune. 
 
 Tracing the lineage of this term through the Gre 
 cian lore might yield an idea for the thoughtful, and
 
 GENIUS. 173 
 
 perhaps some amusement to the curious. But I 
 would linger here only to say, that it is thought by 
 some to descend to us more immediately from the 
 Greek verb gignomai, or ginnomai, which claims 
 ancestry in geno, a word of great repute in Grecian 
 lore. Gig-no is a supposed ancestor to this cele 
 brated noun ; and, if this gives the proper lineage of 
 the word, it also gives the idea, to beget, to produce, 
 to create. That genius is the creative, originating 
 force of mind is therefore somewhat favored by this 
 etymology of the term. 
 
 But leaving the word, let us follow the inquiry, 
 What is Genius ? 
 
 No one can imagine that genius is a faculty sep 
 arate from the order of intellectual powers common 
 to every man, without opposing the truth, that the 
 elements of the human mind are fundamently the 
 same ; that the difference lies not in the class of 
 faculties, but in their quantity, quality, and peculiar 
 combination. The human body has the same num 
 ber of organs, in the different orders of strength and 
 agility. The noblest feats do not imply that a new 
 nerve, muscle, or limb, is possessed by the actor, 
 unpossessed by those of lesser skill. Neither can 
 the highest and noblest achievements of the superior 
 mind argue the possession of a single mental faculty 
 unshared by others. The mind is one. All differ 
 ences must be resolved into quantity, quality, and 
 combination of powers, which, in unequal degrees, 
 are shared by the race. I here speak of the matter 
 simply with reference to the nature of man, grant 
 ing, of course, all that will probably be claimed for 
 15*
 
 174 GENIUS. 
 
 the inequalities of educational circumstances. The 
 primitive constitution of one man contains what is 
 possessed by all men. He is a monster born who 
 comes into the world with more than the usual num 
 ber of limbs and organs. Nor could the man of 
 genius be contemplated as natural, provided his 
 mind contained a faculty unowned by the mass. 
 Indeed, were one to be born having a highly sub 
 lime faculty of mind, the like of which others do not 
 possess, he must for ever remain unknown ; for to 
 know him, in the order of greatness to which the 
 new power refers, implies a like faculty in others. 
 He must find a race like himself, or be unknown. 
 
 The man of genius differs from others, perhaps, 
 in the amount, not in the number, of his powers. 
 Still more does he differ in the quality of his pow 
 ers. Genius always implies a finer quality of spirit. 
 Quality in the soils varies not so much as quality in 
 the empire of mind. Nor do the trees in their beau 
 tiful growth combine the same elements more va 
 riously, than the individualizing spirit of humanity 
 combines the same class of mental powers. In the 
 true man of genius, and in this statement I mean 
 not all who attain this fame, but simply our highest 
 idea of such a one, in him, I say, the highest 
 quality of powers is so harmonized, that their natural 
 operation is marked by the perfect. There is such 
 an innate susceptibility of truth, such an inward 
 harmony of soul, that, when the mind acts, there 
 seems to be an unconscious choice of the highest 
 excellence. 
 
 Properly speaking, men of genius are intuitive.
 
 GENIUS. 175 
 
 What logic labors for, they behold. Genius is quick 
 to see the law involved in facts. Its processes are 
 rapid, and are not to be fully reported. It pene 
 trates the cloud of appearance, tears away the veil 
 of falsity from the divine face of truth, discovers by 
 a glance the deep reality of things, sports with the 
 old boundaries of thought, and brings harmony from 
 all it touches, by that easy, rapid, and spontaneous 
 action of mind that most resembles divine agency. 
 Genius has a fine, spiritual sensation. It feels the 
 true, the right. It has a temperament its own. 
 There is a happy union of imagination and judg 
 ment in all its achievements. It is the sudden wis 
 dom, the spontaneous reason, the natural inspiration 
 of man. Nature smiles when she sees wealth and 
 opportunity attempting to create it ; and, after a 
 brief pause, tells all concerned, that genius is born, 
 not made. But I would more definitely inquire into 
 its characteristics and attributes. 
 
 1. And I would first of all remind you, that genius 
 is unconscious of self. This is its beautiful charac 
 teristic. And do you think that this view is not 
 older than Thomas Carlyle or the Edinburgh Re 
 view ? Ages since, Sophocles was deeply impressed 
 with it, when he said, " .^Eschylus does what is right 
 without knowing it." And .^Eschylus, more than he, 
 was creative. The great man wears the livery of 
 simplicity. He never marvels at himself, but rather 
 at the universal nature manifested in himself and in 
 all men. Shakspeare always lost sight of himself as 
 an individual. Burns was driven by poverty, and 
 not by self-applause, to publish his poems. Neither
 
 176 GENIUS. 
 
 was ^ aware of having done any thing wonderful. 
 Both had been surprised, could they have foreseen 
 the admiration of after-times. Jesus never wondered 
 at his own miracles. Genius never said, " Have I 
 not well spoken ? " For the naturalness of all its 
 performances not only excludes the feeling whence 
 these vanities spring, but, from the perfection of the 
 standards which genius owns, we may infer dissat 
 isfaction, rather than complaisance. 
 
 When we return to our own experience, it is not 
 difficult to learn, that our most perfect actions and 
 utterances have always been in those golden mo 
 ments when we have lost sight of ourselves as indi 
 viduals, when we have surrendered ourselves wholly 
 to the inspiration of the thought to be expressed, or 
 the end to be attained. He whose mind is partly 
 on himself, and partly on his theme, acts with divided 
 energies. He who forgets himself in his theme 
 alone wields his entire power. In the social circle, 
 it is not till we have fallen into this unconsciousness, 
 that we are happy and at ease ; and the perfect 
 grace of manner never comes till then. The most 
 perfect lines of the poet are those which cost him the 
 least labor. I admire this law of genius. It is beau 
 tiful. Nor is it less the minister of utility, provided 
 a boasting age, and many persons who are too con 
 scious of being unappreciated, would use it as the 
 mirror of self-inspection. 
 
 Kindred to this is the naturalness which appertains 
 to this school. In spite of our previous knowledge 
 of fiction, King Lear ever afterwards is a real king, 
 and Desdemona a real woman. Falstaff is as really
 
 GENIUS. 177 
 
 an English humorist as Dean Swift. "We see the 
 heaths of Scotia waving with blossoms red, we 
 stand amid the " banks and braes o' bonnie Boon," 
 and join the cotter in his worship, while reading the 
 page of Burns ; nor can we dismiss Coleridge with 
 out bearing ever after the sacred image in our 
 bosoms as of one we know, the image of Gene- 
 vieve, who could not become more real in our 
 minds, had she lived and died in a hundred coun 
 tries. Genius will be natural. Its most perfect words 
 often cause the poor, unlettered drudge to feel for 
 the moment that " he could have told that" Each 
 life being unfolded under the impressions of the 
 same outward nature, varying only in its scenes, and 
 each having an experience of similar facts, varying 
 mostly in manner and extent, and each conscious of 
 "the Avorkings of the same inward powers, it is not 
 difficult to determine what is true to nature. Genius 
 interests because it represents us. It revives in 
 beauty what lay in repose. It speaks to our primitive 
 being, which underlies all custom and art, and out 
 lives all changes, the same for ever. Hence, the man 
 of genius lives for ever. He speaks to the Everlast 
 ing, and it hears him. 
 
 2. But genius begets, produces, creates. He is 
 the fountain, and not the cistern. He does not 
 hold, but flows ; and, when true to his vocation, his 
 influences are as the Nile, calling out verdure Avher- 
 ever they go. 
 
 There needs be' in this world those who create. 
 All beaten paths were once a wild. Man was before 
 government, art, philosophy, and song. He is older
 
 178 GENIUS. 
 
 than the Church or the State. The demand for 
 genius was laid in the most primitive state. And 
 since progress is the law of society as well as of in 
 dividuals, there must be creators of new paths, 
 leaders and inspirers of men ; for everywhere the 
 majority, by the instincts of their own minds, are 
 more inclined to follow and adopt, than they are to 
 strike out new modes of thought and action. The 
 demand for creative power is everlasting. 
 
 Greatness belongs to both origination and admin 
 istration, but in a far higher sense to the former. 
 We often find strong minds, in the various callings of 
 public life, who most ably discharge their duties, 
 who execute in an admirable manner, and who are 
 in the highest sense useful. But they add no new 
 idea to enrich the science to which their lives have 
 been devoted. They leave things as they found 
 them. The man of talent merely, is strong for enter 
 prise, strong to administer, and strong to execute. 
 But talent alone never creates a new state on nobler 
 foundations of law, never leads Israel out of Egypt 
 to their promised land, never originates a Protestant 
 Reformation, and never electrifies a country with a 
 new truth. Genius creates the world, and talent is 
 the giant Atlas who carries it. But creation is the 
 highest work. It is most like the All-Perfect Mind. 
 
 The man of genius is rich in new modes of 
 thought, if his sphere is laid in this direction. Give 
 to philosophic genius a fact, and it soon discovers 
 the law that pervades it ; and, through what it sees in 
 the few simple facts, it may rise to higher truths. 
 To the man of this order of genius, the facts of nature
 
 GENIUS. 179 
 
 and life are always pointing to what is above them 
 selves. A few means, in his hands, are turned to 
 a great account. He makes a way. Napoleon 
 boasted of having made his generals " out of mud ; " 
 and in the immense fruitfulness of his mind, both 
 for the origination and execution of plans, there is 
 displayed the creativeness of genius in its boldest 
 forms. 
 
 In calling the man of genius creator, I would guard 
 my view from a possible abuse. It might be inferred 
 that I use the term in its absolute sense, implying 
 that out of nothing, or almost nothing, genius con 
 structs her magnificent temples. Indeed, there is 
 something of this view implied in common discourse, 
 when people say that an author has made a scene of 
 life or nature beautiful by shedding upon it all the 
 light of his genius. But creation supposes pre 
 existing materials ; and they who acknowledge the 
 fact that nature and life are always more beautiful 
 than we see or know, will withhold from genius the 
 credit of making beauty, in any sense, but will 
 accede to its agency the discovery and presentation 
 of beauties which the common eye has failed to per 
 ceive. Reason creates no law of logic ; conscience, 
 no law of ethics ; and genius, no law of beauty. 
 Law flows from God, and on the tables of nature 
 and fact it is inscribed. The mental powers can but 
 discover and report. It is creation to combine anew, 
 to dissolve old compounds, and form new struc 
 tures, in which sense the man of genius is doubtless 
 creator. 
 
 At the head of every epoch, there is a great
 
 180 GENIUS. 
 
 man, a man of genius : surely one, perhaps more. 
 Moses was a man of great genius for his day. He 
 had large powers of origination, and was by nature, 
 as well as discipline, qualified to preside over the 
 exodus, journeys, and social state of a people, from 
 whose development, in their settled state, such great 
 consequences were to flow. His genius presided 
 over the great plans. He knew the distant land of 
 promise, and he could inspire the stupid masses with 
 new courage and hope. But Joshuas were needed 
 also : talent had its place. 
 
 The eleven centuries in which Grecian thought 
 took philosophic form flowed along under the pre 
 siding genius of Socrates. He begat the philosophers, 
 not by teaching a system, but by so waking up the 
 spirit of reflection, that it could not die for ages. 
 So, indeed, of every epoch in art. The masters 
 appear as causes. So of all the epochs in religion 
 and letters. Luther was a genius, more destructive 
 than constructive, to be sure ; but the evils with 
 which he fought were positive, and the energy and 
 means he wielded were also positive. When destruc 
 tion had cleared away the rubbish, and the times 
 demanded a more constructive great man,* he came. 
 Byron stood at the head of a grand revolution in 
 poetry, a revolution that swept away the school of 
 mere mechanical niceness, and idolatry of the rules, 
 and, more than any one else, established the school 
 of earnest, life-breathing style in this department of 
 English literature. If Cowper was the harbinger, 
 
 * John Calvin.
 
 GENIUS. 181 
 
 Byron was nearly the finisher, of this change ; still 
 retaining the lofty structure of verse he had so much 
 admired in Pope. History also, in England, had no 
 philosophical merit, till its grounds were trodden by 
 David Hume. But it is needless to follow further this 
 idea of history. Men of genius are the universal men ; 
 the men Avhose influences are felt by the millions, the 
 men who most strongly mark the epochs of human 
 progress. The world, in its institutions, laws, thought, 
 and song, points to them as to the gods of the earth, 
 so far as creative achievement is concerned. 
 
 3. Genius is also bold and free. The eagle is 
 probably its fittest emblem. It darts, it soars, it 
 sports with the storm ; it comes down for its prey, 
 and again ascends. The free winds now soft and 
 balmy as the breath and whisper of angels, and now 
 driving the dark clouds like great autumn leaves is 
 a good symbol of romantic genius. Talent is often 
 enslaved. It is often bought. And, for the most 
 part, the man of talent merely is more apt to value 
 truth from its relation to some local enterprise and 
 end ; while genius, though often perverted to min 
 ister to the passions, is far more capable of loving 
 truth for its own sake, of making science its god 
 dess. 
 
 Power is instinctively free and independent ; and, 
 from the very nature of genius as intuitive, vigorous, 
 and rapid in its action, it is incapable of the narrow 
 enslavement to which men of other powers are often 
 exposed. Many consent to masters whose worth 
 they do not know. They blindly find them in opin 
 ion, custom, and habit. No man serves what hf 
 16
 
 182 GENIUS. 
 
 deems unworthy ; but the man of genius weighs and 
 penetrates all pretended masters, and explodes their 
 titles to reign before he submits to the yoke. The 
 liberal tendencies of genius are prominent in its his 
 tory. Nothing is more difficult to confine within 
 sectarian walls. Hence also the scepticism of this 
 class has been not a little complained of, as refer 
 ence to the names of Hume, Rousseau, Byron, Burns, 
 Shelley, and others, at once evince ; and perhaps one 
 cause of the phenomenon lies in their natural dislike 
 to constraint, and still more in their superior capacity 
 to penetrate the poverty of popular belief. I have 
 said elsewhere that genius is quick to discover the 
 law of things ; and law is universal. The range of 
 real principles is infinite. The man of genius, more 
 than others, is apt to realize the unity of the universe, 
 and the spiritual expansion to which this conception 
 ministers. Now, it is plainly evident that the sec 
 tarian constraints of society are opposed to the uni 
 versality of which I speak. They are too small to 
 measure its range. Hence they often and justly 
 become its sport. 
 
 I think the position safe, that, in the liberal ten 
 dencies of genius, there is a recognition of the uni 
 versal worth and equal elements of human nature. 
 One feels certain, that, had Shakspeare devoted his 
 life to politics, his tendencies had been to popular 
 freedom ; for the human heart, and not the divine 
 right of kings, had been his argument. Burns 
 alarmed his government by his free expression of 
 sympathy for the popular freedom, the love and 
 purpose of which were bursting forth in France.
 
 GENIUS. 183 
 
 Youth, il is said, is enthusiastic for liberty ; and, from 
 the warm temperament that is usually the ^accom 
 paniment of genius, this enthusiasm remains longer 
 in its veins. The autumnal green not unfrequently 
 adorns its fading years. Byron was zealous in 
 Greece. Shelley, under all his persecutions, held a 
 glowing hope for the human race. Genius is more 
 apt to penetrate the surface, to look through the 
 circumstance and accidents of man to his nature, 
 is more given to contemplate him from his manhood ; 
 and therefore its general sentiment is more likely to 
 be, " A man's a man for a' that." 
 
 The man of genius, especially in the department 
 of sentiment and action, throws himself upon his 
 primitive nature. His spirit appears not tamed and 
 domesticated. His atmosphere smells of mountains 
 and forests, of the unmanaged elements, and unaf 
 fected loveliness. Nature's wildness is ever inspiring. 
 The desert bears its matchless flower. The noblest 
 animals are unenslaved. " The lion is alone." And 
 in the untrodden wilds, where God alone is gardener 
 of the rich parterre, genius feeds and grows, no 
 less than under the smile of various art. Imagina 
 tion, " the angel of the human mind," is boldest 
 and freest of all the faculties, is most inventive 
 and least restrained ; and, in fineness of quality and 
 fulness of extent, is always implied in the word 
 genius. 
 
 4. But the characterization of genius is not com 
 plete without the presence of unity. The inglorious 
 error has shaded many minds, that the man of genius 
 is a splendid fraction, that there is but one thing in
 
 184 GENIUS. 
 
 which he may excel, and that in other matters he 
 must be less than other men. Nothing can be more 
 untrue. Excellence of nature must display itself in 
 every condition. All men doubtless excel most in 
 that to which their minds are mostly given ; and that 
 there are peculiar adaptations of various minds to 
 various spheres, is equally true of every order of in 
 tellect. Dugald Stuart expressed what I believe to 
 be true on this subject, when, speaking of the Cale 
 donian bard, he said, "All the faculties of Burns's 
 mind were equally vigorous. From his conversation, 
 I should have pronounced him to be fitted to excel in 
 whatever walk of ambition he had chosen to exert 
 his abilities." I say "fitted to excel" in all, but 
 probably not in the same degree. Harmony of rnind, 
 the characteristic of excellence, is, as elsewhere ob 
 served in this volume, a balance of faculties. How 
 can a man of this class shoot up into one idea and into 
 one end, in a manner to disprove his natural capacity 
 to excel in other spheres ? The whole problem is 
 solved most clearly in any one genius of the highest 
 order. Who can read Shakspeare, without seeing 
 the philosopher, the artist, the poet, the legislator, the 
 man of letters and of business, all existing in the 
 author's mind ? Milton wrote the mighty essay, as 
 well as the divine poem. True, life is too short and 
 its cares too numerous to permit any one to shine in 
 a magnificent splendor in several callings ; but the 
 common error, so far from being supported by this 
 fact, must seek its confirmation in the failures of 
 genius to master the difficulties of any profession to 
 which it has been early and faithfully devoted. In
 
 GENIUS. 
 
 practice, I will leave this question where it is beauti 
 fully solved in the life of Mozart, and would advise 
 the reader, if he seeks fragmentary greatness, to re 
 move his labor from the spheres of genius. For units, 
 not fractions, are here. 
 
 What flows from the premises here stated is the 
 conclusion, that the man of genius is conscious of the 
 harmony of the universe. He feels this fact deep in 
 his spirit's life ; and this universal harmony without, 
 he sees and hears as the image and echo of the fact 
 within. He is one with all. Hence, as from a foun 
 tain, flow the various melodies of song, speech, and 
 deed. 
 
 I have spoken of what seems to me the plainest 
 characteristics of genius, but riot without being con 
 scious of the difficulty there is in defining it. Like 
 the mysterious power of life, we know it only in its 
 phenomena. We find it marked by unconscious 
 ness, naturalness, invention, freedom, spontaneity, 
 and unity. Quickness of energy is also implied. 
 All these point out its mission as being to enlighten 
 the race with new truths, to multiply life's comforts, 
 to awaken diviner aspirations in men, to break up the 
 bondage in which they are held, to revive the con 
 sciousness of a divine nature, to scatter the clouds of 
 error that overshadow the pure reason and the reign 
 of law, to dissolve the coarseness and check the sel 
 fish tendencies of all, to spiritualize human character 
 and happiness, to call into proper dominion the dis 
 interested, generous feelings and virtues, and to 
 preside over the progress of the ages. This is the 
 solemn mission of all thus divinely endowed. 
 
 16*
 
 186 
 
 GENII; 9. 
 
 Amusement, as well as edification, is yielded by 
 those who seek its signs. Absence of mind, with all 
 the eccentricities, has been thought its harbinger. 
 Childhood is sometimes watched as strangely as the 
 Roman viewed his birds of omen. But absence of 
 mind, sometimes mistaken for mental vacancy, is but 
 the evidence of abslraction. In a proper man, it is, 
 indeed, but a faithful presence of mind to some distant 
 truth, and is a more certain indication that he lacks 
 interesting company, than that he is kindled with the 
 Promethean fire of this endowment. " Genius is 
 eccentric, " cries the popular belief. So is the idiot 
 and the lunatic. But do they give us Hamlets and 
 Manfreds ? What more than genius ought to know 
 the graceful and the proper ? What more than it 
 should be alive to their slightest violation ? The 
 youth, of whom his friends can only say that he had 
 forgotten his Christian name through intensity of ab 
 stractions, must bring better claims to the tribunal of 
 sense, than his dreamy moods, or leave the world 
 unconvicted of his relation to this high fraternity. 
 Perhaps it is only the intellectually weak and adul 
 terated generation who seek much after the signs of 
 this reality. 
 
 A certain idleness and ha!red of study are sup 
 posed to mark the man of genius, an opinion 
 growing out perhaps of the ease and spontaneity of 
 such minds. But it is a dissolute error, unworthy of 
 the subject. The fact that genius seizes at once on 
 the strong points of a subject, that it darts to the 
 conclusion which costs the slow logic of the world 
 much longer time to compass, argues great innate
 
 GENIUS. 
 
 activity ; an activity, in fact, that knows less of repose 
 and slothfulness than do the great majority of men. 
 Often, when to appearance there is no labor, a deep 
 and silent work is going on, like the noiseless, invisi 
 ble agencies of nature around us, through which vege 
 tation, in a thousand forms of beauty, springs up, and 
 through which the worlds revolve in the boundless 
 space. In deep, vast souls these unheard processes 
 are always more, far more, than the observer con 
 ceives. 
 
 Genius has its own methods of study and reflec 
 tion ; but idle it is not. Its labor is not strained : still 
 it is labor, nothing but labor. We look at a particu 
 lar work of genius, and, in our transports among its 
 beauties, we forget the care and the toil. No such 
 work is done by magic. Childe Harold is the ripened 
 result of all the stages through which Byron had 
 passed. He who carries himself into his work neces 
 sarily represents his entire past ; for all the conflicts 
 of faith and doubt, hope and realization, reason and 
 passion, joy arid sorrow, all the facts of love and 
 hatred, virtue and vice, and all the impressions from 
 the endless whirl of outward circumstances which 
 he converts into idea and symbol, contribute to his 
 present power. And when we remember that the 
 spiritual history of genius is peculiar ; that, in many 
 instances, it includes the baptism of sorrow and storm, 
 where can be our wisdom when we infer that great 
 labor has not preceded its grand and beautiful mon 
 uments ? Could we look into the unseen realm of 
 mind, could we there behold as by a glance all the 
 subtle workings of thought and imagination belong-
 
 188 
 
 GENII'S. 
 
 ing to the different periods of any one great man, and 
 then glance into the narrower action of other minds 
 thoroughly and constantly absorbed in the pursuits 
 of worldly gain, the thought would never again 
 occur, that the history of genius is one of slothful 
 repose, even though the best thoughts may come in 
 its calm and unconscious states. 
 
 A more true and beautiful indication of genius is 
 the tinge of thoughtful melancholy on a thoughtful 
 mind. It is the better sign of the deep and exquisite 
 sensibility, of the profound depths of thought and 
 passion, and of the rich experience, by which the 
 highest forms of excellence are cherished. Nature, 
 in her highest, mightiest forms, wears this shade. 
 The ocean, the mount, the cataract, the storm, Aviike 
 the spirit of seriousness. What is deepest in the 
 soul is serious. The pillars of the universe never 
 laugh. Power loves the solemn tone, though softened 
 and brightened by cheerfulness. Where wit of the 
 highest order appears, it implies this opposite fact. 
 Gilbert Burns testifies that his brother, in childhood 
 and youth, was inclined to sadness; and some of his 
 richest strains imply, what may be said of every great 
 poet, that, in ihe unbroken solitude of the soul, the 
 brightest visions are born. To a divine spirit, this 
 world is but partially satisfying ; arid in a world 
 where the ruins of intellectual and moral being are 
 so numerous, Avhere the facts of life are so tragical, 
 and man is unable to realize his visions of good, 
 genius could not be sufficiently representative, with 
 out a share of this feeling in its construction. 
 
 Nature is prophetic. The man of genius is some-
 
 GENIUS. 189 
 
 what inherently led. His love early tells to what he 
 should live. Young Schiller in the storm, eying the 
 lightning, was the prophet of his future. But let us 
 close before opening wider this chapter of signs. 
 
 But men of genius differ from each other most 
 widely. No two are alike in the exact quality and 
 combination of their powers. And the universe and 
 life are the true school of genius, as richly indeed as 
 of talent and common sense, in being adapted to its 
 development in all its needed variety of forms. The 
 poet sees in nature and life all he desires for his 
 song. The philosopher looks around on a shoreless 
 sea of cause and effect. The artist beholds all as 
 his, and the prophet se*es all as his, as radiant with 
 divinity, and fervent in worship. Perhaps the mys 
 tery of nature, its invisible agencies, its vast and 
 boundless energy, render it more fitted to be the 
 nursery of genius, than if it were more definite, sen 
 sual, and easy of comprehension. I would hasten, 
 however, from these views to consider the various 
 manifestations of this power. 
 
 1. And perhaps its display in art, addressing the 
 soul through the senses more than from any other 
 department, and ministering conjointly to utility and 
 beauty, is worthy of a first consideration. Indeed, 
 here must have been its earliest achievement ; for 
 man at first, ignorant of architecture, and, with the 
 animal, "joint tenant of the tree and shade," knew 
 not to weave his wardrobe, nor invent the instru 
 ments of husbandry, defence, and musical delight ; 
 and, without models or teachers to guide him, must 
 have realized his wants and desires through the ml-
 
 190 GENIUS. 
 
 ness of original invention. Great artistic nature 
 spread herself instinctively around him ; and. seeing 
 in her various structure the principles of art, he drew 
 thence the primary lessons by which to rear the 
 temple and the city. In the world's first stages, 
 genius was man's highest aid, necessarily rude to be 
 sure, but still, like Hercules, doing wonders in its 
 infancy. 
 
 Art has three great epochs ; and, since it is but an 
 exhibition of human intellect, each of these corre 
 sponds to the general state of the civilization belong 
 ing thereto. In the East, it \vas doubtless less 
 perfect, though some strong monuments still remain ; 
 yet the mind, unaided by previous and beautiful 
 models, must have been rich in original force. But 
 the Greek had a fine, harmonious nature ; and, 
 under skies of mildness and circumstances of favor, 
 he gave to art a perfect expression, one that em 
 bodied the harmony and gladness of his own mind. 
 He knew the wonderful mysteries of form ; and, 
 under the spiritual tendencies of his age, he gave to 
 the statue his pure idea of the beauty of the gods, 
 so perfectly as never again to be excelled. Religion 
 was the inspiration of art. But this beautiful era 
 need not be repeated. Statues are not men ; and 
 great deeds are wrought by history into statues. 
 
 Speaking of the world as an individual, we may 
 say that the genius of art wrought from the fancy 
 o'f youth, but that in later stages it shall probably 
 take more manly forms, proving that art, Avith its 
 glories of the past, is but half grown ; that Phidias, 
 Praxitiles, Polydore, and Raphael, may be sur-
 
 GENIUS. 191 
 
 passed. Whenever the human mind shall attain to 
 a more perfect state, I conceive that it will be accom 
 panied by a corresponding perfection of form and 
 feature; which, speaking from the statue and the 
 canvas, shall constitute an increased beauty of art. 
 
 The moderns eye the useful ; and their miracles, 
 for the most part, wear the color of gain ; all which, 
 for the time, are in place. But whilst the Ark- 
 wrights, Fultons, and Morses, have multiplied the 
 useful, West, Allston, and Powers, have revealed 
 divine beauty in the refined ; and everywhere the 
 taste of the people begins to apply the fruits of genius 
 in adding ornament and grace to their homes. The 
 third epoch of art, which has begun somewhat in 
 eclecticism, is to end let time determine; but we 
 will prophesy honorably to the doctrine of the pro 
 gress of ages : only it cannot be expected that the 
 past shall be repeated, that any one era of art shall 
 be the copy of another. 
 
 Artistic genius speaks to all with a silent, inexpli 
 cable skill. It is simple in its grandeur, as they who 
 have beheld its miracles in Italy with an ingenuous 
 eye say that the divinest charm is the spiritual part, 
 the indefinable expression, the radiation of character 
 from stone and canvas, the language of thought 
 and feeling there inscribed, that wakes in the be 
 holder the deepest and simplest attributes of his own 
 nature. When we have felt the witchery of perfect 
 music, and the mystery of the canvas, for a time we 
 are conscious of being restored to ourselves ; for the 
 hour, thought reigns like the stars, and we are true 
 and worshipful.
 
 192 GENIUS. 
 
 2. Genius is also philosophic, and, by its bold 
 glances, discovers the shady fountains of causation. 
 Its forms and manifestations are infinite ; but, under 
 these, the genius of philosophy has been ever the 
 same, the power to seize on the connections of 
 cause and effect ; to discover the universal law in 
 volved in facts ; to unite, as by creative energy, 
 isolated truths into accordant system ; to readily dis 
 engage a truth from cumbersome errors ; to detect 
 the subtle and numberless analogies that unite the 
 various truths of different sciences ; and, from the 
 data of the known, to rise to the unknown. Few are 
 endowed with this order of mind, from whose emi 
 nence descend into society all great discoveries, and 
 from whose agency the knowledge of mankind is 
 increased. 
 
 The period of reflection naturally succeeds that of 
 observation. We first know facts, and afterwards 
 ask for their law. Hence THE age of philosophy was 
 late in the world's history, as late as the development 
 of the Greek intellect, which, in its fine balance of 
 reason and fancy, was as well prepared to trace the 
 law of matter and mind as to enshrine the beautiful 
 in statues and poems. The Oriental mind held too 
 great an ascendency of imagination and feeling to 
 make a proper independent epoch in philosophy, 
 although it had a radiation of reason subordinate to, 
 and reflected from, its religion.* Socrates, born in 
 the third year of the seventy-seventh Olympiad, was 
 the genius, the creator of this order and form of 
 
 * See note, p. 206.
 
 GENIUS. 193 
 
 thought ; and, rising above the sensuous symbolism 
 around him, he sought to acquaint man with himself, 
 and to bring out the immortal qualities of his nature. 
 And that he found mortal foes in the sophists and in 
 the superstition of his times, which caused his com 
 posed but unnatural death, as the sun was sinking in 
 radiance amid nature's holy and eloquent calm, is 
 but the witness of circumstance attesting his superi 
 ority to the age and the community he had labored 
 to bless. 
 
 Beneath the common consciousness, there is a 
 philosophic consciousness in him whose peculiar 
 combination of powers gives philosophic genius. 
 Reason acts almost as a spiritual instinct. Newtons 
 and Bacons come not of discipline. And in the 
 detection of law, which genius makes in the most 
 wonderful phenomena of nature and mind, it dissi 
 pates the clouds of superstitious belief, and awakens 
 the delight consequent on the contemplation of the 
 universe, as being the subject of an order, beautiful, 
 uniform, and unceasing. But for this order of genius, 
 the fanciful veil of mythology had still enshrouded 
 the operations of nature from our view. 
 
 The soul is the highest object of philosophy in 
 nature ; and its analysis preceded inquiry into the 
 outward elements, as Palestine, Greece, Egypt, and 
 India, do show. But the soul is ever too great for 
 the measurements of the reasoner. We rejoice that 
 the signs of the times clearly demonstrate, that the 
 genius of philosophy is seeking a spiritual basis, that 
 it is looking more and more into the inward con 
 sciousness, that its materialism is becoming but the 
 17
 
 194 GENIUS. 
 
 shadow and illustration of its higher faith. But I 
 will dismiss this order of genius, which is evidently 
 the highest, considered as a mere intellectual power, 
 with the remark, that, as the mind in every age must 
 reflect itself, its future advance must be accompanied 
 with higher forms of philosophy as well as of art ; 
 for the spirit of reflection, having its spring in the 
 nature of man, can never cease, but must come into 
 greater ascendency, as the age of the world ad 
 vances. Youth observes ; age reflects. 
 
 3. Genius in poetry revives the enthusiasm of early 
 years ; gives new visions of the beautiful ; makes 
 vocal the daisy, fountain, and star ; puts us into con 
 scious union with ourselves, and earth and air and 
 sea and sky. It gives voice to life's facts, to the 
 soul's struggles ; it touches the spirit's mysteries ; 
 brings out the unspoken eloquence of passion ; and, 
 under its various speech, the mount, the storm, and 
 the great tumultuous sea, the many-shaped clouds, 
 the day-orb, burning ever in his tranquil sea of 
 space, with the infinitude of nature's lesser things, 
 all grow into brotherhood with the spirit ; all echo 
 its divinest facts and feelings. Genius comes into 
 the dulness of life, to " make all things new," to 
 teach and inspire that nobler self which is but half 
 known in our phenomenal lives. 
 
 Genius here, as elsewhere, is creative and uncon 
 scious. It is alive to the living, unwritten poetry of 
 the external creation. In its best moments, nature 
 appears one vast and ever-varying poem. Its pic 
 tures are definite and vivid. Genius does not give 
 the exact thing it portrays ; does not show us the
 
 GENIUS. 195 
 
 exact pine, brook, light, rose, and darkness, but 
 the expression of these, these as they are under 
 its own colors. What we see by the imagination is 
 a step beyond, or may be so, that which we see 
 by the sense. The leaf and cataract you meet in 
 poetry, you thus see ; and the imagination should 
 be so addressed, that its highest appreciative power 
 may fully meet the highest ideal of the writer. Then 
 storm, fountain, and star, are seen with increased 
 hues of beauty. Beholding at distance also serves 
 to raise the ideal above the scenes and acts which 
 first suggested it. 
 
 Mere talent, under good discipline, not unfre- 
 quently produces respectable poems, and wins for a 
 time the honors due alone to genius. The skilful 
 wax-figure, at a distance, may be mistaken for the 
 living original. But the real signs of power are want 
 ing ; the free, living, burning fire of life is not there. 
 We detect both the absence and the presence of 
 genius by that we cannot define. But we may usu 
 ally observe in the genuine production, that the body 
 of poetry has higher grace ; that its variations of 
 measure and sound accord with the inimitable spirit 
 that creates, as the eye, face, walk, and form of the 
 superior man bear the impress of his soul. Themes 
 are also well chosen, and usually not very much 
 from the field of the author's interests and particular 
 experience.* The prince of poets never contrived to 
 
 * But Goethe, it is said, constantly turned his experience into 
 poetry, getting a song out of each particular sorrow. Burns evi 
 dently did the same to a limited extent. But, in these poems, 
 there flows the same generous, disinterested feeling that charac-
 
 196 GENIUS. 
 
 thrust himself upon you. Genius is not satisfied 
 in giving single things, however beautiful they are ; 
 but darts out into associations, connects the object 
 it views with analogous reality ; and, in its sublimest 
 and humblest coursings, you can see the philosopher 
 beneath the action of the poet ; for no man gives to 
 poem divineness of thought who does not penetrate 
 nature and life with a philosopher's eye. After all the 
 graces are exhausted, the confession must come, 
 that poetry, separate from its depth, energy, variety, 
 fitness, and originality of thought, is but a painted 
 figure, a mere concord of sounds. To call genuine 
 poetry light reading is to confess a total ignorance 
 of its mission and meaning ; for everywhere it is the 
 fragrant bloom of the tree of knowledge. It is cer 
 tainly through a deep wisdom that one is enabled to 
 give the most inspiring expression to the emotions, 
 thoughts, language, hopes, fears, vices, and virtues of 
 mankind. But this philosophical element is some 
 what out of sight, whilst the images and glow of 
 imagination are nearer the common gaze. The 
 perfect union of this penetrating wisdom, with the 
 simplicity and freshness of conception and feeling 
 belonging to the child, more than all else, forms 
 the true poet. He is the child expanded into the 
 man. 
 
 The Iliad implies an immense creator in the past, 
 
 terizes the general theme. Individual life, as well as the earth 
 and the heavens, one might reasonably suppose, may be translated 
 into poetry, when the writer can view its facts with as entire a 
 freedom from egotism as that with which he contemplates the 
 facts of history and of nature.
 
 GENIUS. 197 
 
 who was as much the genius of song as Socrates of 
 reflection. The one was the high priest at the shrines 
 of imagination ; the other, at the altars of reason. 
 
 Shakspeare who, like the priesthood of Mel- 
 chisedek, appears to stand out by himself, without 
 father or mother, precession or succession, in his art ; 
 and, still more, without an " end of life " as to the 
 perpetuity of his creations is the greatest monu 
 ment of the most various genius. 
 
 Byron can never be greater than he now is, 
 through the verdict of future time, although society 
 may concede to him a better nature and heart. For 
 saken in childhood by his dissipated father, and left 
 to the maternal care of one as impetuous as her son, 
 who outstripped the verbs even in the number of her 
 moods, and whose treatment blended the extremes 
 of rage and idolatrous fondness, his early discipline 
 was at once the prophecy of his after-life, in which 
 the public either bowed in the fulness of worship, or 
 by denunciation rocked the ground he trod. He 
 was the poet of the passions, the " rose and thorn 
 combined." His genius rose unconsciously into 
 sublime description. His intensity of thought and 
 passion was nearly the same ; and the evils of his 
 life, as well as his peculiar nature, the persecution 
 which drove him beyond the Alps, and made his 
 home on the shores of the Adriatic, the various sor 
 rows and misfortunes that rendered his being on 
 earth as " a life on the ocean-wave, and a home on 
 the rolling deep," where his wild harp gave out its 
 sad music to the elements, all conspired to the 
 breathing forth of that melancholy beauty which 
 17*
 
 198 GENIUS. 
 
 shades his Harold, his Manfred, and nearly all his 
 poems of sentimenj^, with gloom. Life and nature 
 have a side of doubt, darkness, and gloom ; the 
 great fact is here, and it is fit that it should be repre 
 sented, if not in union with the light, then separate 
 and alone. Bard of Albion ! thou art not alone. 
 Real is the sombre realm that waited for thy pen. 
 
 Burns, more than any other perhaps, the people's 
 poet, sweet and eloquent in all his touches of 
 nature, though not to titles, wealth, and science 
 born, recalls the name of Byron, from that simili 
 tude of personal history which presents each as 
 having risen through the power of his genius, and 
 each as having fallen through the force of his pas 
 sions. Burns excels in giving nature in her sim 
 plicity. Byron goes back farther into her shades and 
 solitudes, into her complexities and mystery ; ex 
 tracts and transforms, and gives more of " the light 
 of light, and the gloom of gloom." With both, the 
 sun of life went down at noon, when they were best 
 prepared for greatness of effort. 
 
 But I will not remain longer in this department of 
 my subject. Heaven bestows no higher gift than 
 the true poet who has " THE VISION AND THE FACULTY 
 DIVINE " with which to inspire his race. But no 
 where is genius more perverted, except it be in " the 
 fair fields of old " and new romance, in which grand 
 creations are rare, since the Wizard of the North 
 laid down his harp to die. Indeed, there are pas 
 sages and pages of the poets I have named, that no 
 earthly reward should induce the lover of purity to 
 Don Juan, though a monument to the per-
 
 GENIUS. 199 
 
 feet genius of its author, is but a splendid offering to 
 Satan, is the devil's poem in all its moral attri 
 butes. But the eras of poetry are and will be up 
 ward. When man does nobler thing-S) then will 
 come nobler poets and diviner songs. 
 
 4. Moral genius discovers, as by the glance of the 
 eye, the moral laws involved in actions, though 
 clouded by the conflicts of interest, sees the beauty 
 and supremacy of Right, where others behold only 
 the loss and the gain. This order of genius, like 
 every other, is intuitive and spontaneous. A man 
 possessing it consults not authority on questions of 
 ethics. He glances at the law, and this is the au 
 thority. Confucius, perhaps the best illustration of 
 moral genius in the pagan antiquity, constantly re 
 veals the power of beholding the ethical element as 
 transfused through every variety of subject. He 
 saw ethics in the soul. The fine moral fibre such 
 minds possess, make them unconsciously alive to all 
 the lights and shades of moral distinction. Indeed, 
 there is no agency which, in its universal action, in 
 uncorrupted minds, more resembles the power of 
 genius than the faculty of conscience. Power, 
 quickness, and spontaneity, are its general attributes. 
 Swedenborg had in his mind an exceedingly fine 
 view of moral genius, I think, when he said the 
 angels do not reason concerning their duty. The 
 more perfect our moral feelings, the clearer is the 
 intellectual eye to behold what is right, and the more 
 instinctively do we embrace the good, and shrink 
 from the evil. We see, without reasoning on sight. 
 We hear, without reasoning on sound. So there is
 
 200 GENIUS. 
 
 a free logic of the breast growing more perfect with 
 progress in goodness, that can well dispense with 
 book-exposition ; and the time may possibly come, 
 that none, obeying their moral light, need to reason 
 concerning their duty. Moral genius comes near 
 to this. 
 
 When such contemplate the universe, they view 
 its end as moral. When they discourse of man, and 
 of the great problems that touch upon his welfare, 
 they contemplate them from the moral point of view. 
 They cannot discuss freedom or slavery from the 
 statute-book, or the fortunes lost or won. This 
 order of genius knows goodness as greater than 
 talent and power. It implies good quality and com 
 pass of intellect, fertilized by the moral feelings. 
 
 5. But, before the dismissal of this theme, I would 
 speak a word on genius in the Sacred ; for the idea 
 of the Sacred overshadows the nations, and the feel 
 ing is most deep and universal under each form of 
 barbarism and civilization. As religion is the grand 
 est element of our nature, as its ideas are creative in 
 the production of character, and as they are inwoven 
 into the sublimest forms of human hope, it follows 
 that men of the sacred order of genius should exist. 
 They are needed to speak as originals to mankind, 
 to awaken the element of worship into life, to lead 
 them into new and nobler views of the Divine 
 nature, to open the new epochs of man's religious 
 advance, to dismiss from the old what has become 
 dead, to appropriate the new into the wider forms 
 of truth, and clothe the commonplace of human 
 faith with new life and verdure. The prophet, there-
 
 GENIUS. 
 
 201 
 
 fore, has the highest order of genius. Beneath na 
 ture's wide and beautiful symbolism, he sees the 
 Invisible. To him, all nature is conscious of Divine 
 Presence ; and the vast tide of circumstance for ever 
 murmurs of God in its flow. The oracular, not 
 wholly extinct yet in human bosoms, mingles some 
 what in his reason ; and, like certain birds conscious 
 of approaching storm .and winter, does, in its pre 
 monitions, picture the destiny of a people in their 
 lives. Mohammed must have had a spark of this 
 sacred fire to have enlivened his desert with a better 
 faith and worship. The prophet speaks to the heart 
 the " words that bum ; " and so true does he speak, 
 that the floods cannot stay him. Jerusalem may 
 easily compromise with her priest ; but, in her sen 
 sual states, she is ever inclined to stone her prophets ; 
 for the prophet-glance into humanity always dis 
 covers the spirit as supreme, and all his messages 
 are spoken accordingly. 
 
 To all nature's and life's facts there is a divine 
 voice, did we but hear it. But the ear is dull and 
 the eye is dim through the alienation of life ; and the 
 man of sacred genius breaks through these barriers, 
 moves the spirit in its calm and awful deeps, so that 
 the soul once more awakes to the divine features of 
 its existence. 
 
 We stand in the presence of this order of genius 
 as under the shadow of the Almighty. We stand in 
 awe, concious that authority addresses us. The gale 
 grows into a sacred tone. The religious note is 
 struck in our bosoms, and the harp of the universe 
 trembles in its melody. Oh ! tell us not that divine
 
 202 GENIUS. 
 
 gifts have died with an ancient age. God lives. 
 The soul remains. Nature is not dead. As the eye 
 is the prophecy of light, and the ear of sound, so 
 are the spirit's everlasting yearnings the prophecy 
 that the order of sacred genius shall never perish 
 from the earth. But I should draw this article to 
 a close. I began with the Artist : I end with the 
 Prophet. 
 
 In the metaphysical part of this essay, I have 
 endeavoured to show that genius is not a new facul 
 ty superadded to those the mass of mankind possess. 
 I have treated it as the general result of the large 
 amount, the superior quality, and the happy combi 
 nation of elements, which, in different degrees and 
 states, all participate. From the predominance of 
 particular elements in the combination, influenced 
 somewhat by developing circumstances, I would 
 account for the peculiar adaptations of genius in dif 
 ferent men for art, philosophy, poetry, ethics, and 
 religion. I have assumed that the principle on which 
 genius is understood by the many is that of kindred 
 powers, and what apparently opposes this view, that 
 few possess genius in the sense of being able to 
 create. 
 
 But the harmony of these positions appears when 
 it is considered, that the reader reads what genius 
 writes, the observer observes what genius does, and 
 not what the processes of mind actually were. The 
 genius lies in the conception and in the processes ; 
 but the truth given, and the work done, are, much 
 more than the processes, within the range of the 
 observer's vision. Moreover, it is natural for gifted
 
 GENIUS. 203 
 
 minds to awaken by communication a kindred action 
 in other minds for the time, through which apprecia 
 tion takes place on the principle of kindredness. I 
 think, that the true doctrine of mental sympathy and 
 mutual appreciation is fully expressed in two gen 
 eral conditions, which are, \st, Kindred powers ; 
 and, 2d, Kindred states. Without the former, there 
 would exist the insurmountable barriers that sepa 
 rate vegetable from animal existences, and these 
 from the reciprocal communion of human intelli 
 gences. And, without the proximity of states, there 
 can be but partial reciprocity no farther than a 
 kindred state previously exists, or has been awakened 
 by the action of the superior mind. But the fact 
 of kindred powers lies in human nature ; and the 
 school of life is such that all experience substantially 
 similar facts. All are conscious, at one time or 
 another, of each of the passions, emotions, and as 
 pirations of man ; so that there is enough of the 
 kindred state to admit of general admiration for the 
 highest gifts Heaven has bestowed. 
 
 But the very excellence of genius, its fulness of 
 feeling, susceptibility, and imagination, implies im 
 portant dangers. Great inequalities of feeling are 
 violent tempters to intemperance and various pas 
 sional excess. The child of nature, in the blaze of 
 kindling animation, and in the agitations of high 
 elements of reason and passion, often forgets the 
 solemn supremacy of right, and falls into errors, 
 which seem the darker because they contrast with 
 the splendors of superior qualities. We note dark 
 ness on the sun. Beneath the cloud of evils common
 
 204 GENIUS. 
 
 to genius is seen a nobleness which the sweet bard 
 of Scotia has thus expressed : 
 
 " I saw thy pulse's maddening play 
 Wild send thee pleasure's devious way ; 
 Misled by Fancy's meteor ray, 
 
 By passion driven ; 
 But yet the light that led astray 
 
 Was light from Heaven." 
 
 But that men of genius are irritable, that a distrust 
 of reward in an adequate reputation breaks in upon 
 goodness of temper, is a charge sufficiently over 
 thrown by the highest examples. The cheerfulness 
 flowing through all the writings of Chaucer, the 
 sweetness and evenness of temper so common in 
 Shakspeare, and the calm self-reliance that the pos 
 session of great inward power naturally gives, con 
 signs to darkness this gross opinion. Genius is 
 self-assured ; and it is no small part of its mission 
 to kindle light and cheerfulness along the path of 
 misfortune and despair. 
 
 We would add to the intellect the moral splendors, 
 in due proportion ; for these are the lasting charm, 
 and will beam in effulgence from nature and from 
 God when the memory of talent has faded. Let no 
 man forget, that he is bound by the everlasting 
 law of responsibility, either through his greatness of 
 gifts, or his wonders of success. As well might 
 Saturn refuse to revolve around the sun, because by 
 her moons and rings she is more magnificent than 
 her sister-planets. Gifts are but means. The end is 
 all. As the universe has no particle unsubject to
 
 GENIUS. 
 
 law, neither has it a moral intelligence irresponsible 
 to the great Retributive Right. 
 
 When the seed of genius is in man's mind, all 
 things at once turn matron and nurse. He blooms 
 on the rock, the hill, and the wild. The whirlwinds 
 and the zephyrs, all things, nature, life, death, 
 friends, foes, success and disappointment, all 
 lights and all shades, do a good and perhaps an 
 equal service. All minister to feed the sacred flame. 
 The critics help ; and, when all passion is down, the 
 only great and true critic, the human heart, bids him 
 live ; and the law that binds the star of the north to 
 his place is not more inflexible and unceasing than 
 this simple bidding. 
 
 " It is interesting to notice," says Washington Ir 
 ving, " how some minds seem almost to create them 
 selves ; springing up under every disadvantage, and 
 working their solitary but irresistible way through a 
 thousand obstacles. Nature seems to delight in dis 
 appointing the assiduities of art, with which k would 
 rear legitimate dulness to maturity ; and to glory in 
 the vigor and luxuriance of her chance productions. 
 She scatters the seeds of genius to the winds ; and 
 though some may perish in the stony places of the 
 world, and some be choked by the thorns and bram 
 bles of early adversity, yet others will strike root 
 even in the clefts of the rock, struggle bravely up 
 into sunshine, and spread over their sterile birth 
 place all the beauties of vegetation." * 
 
 * Sketch-book. 
 
 : : 
 
 18
 
 206 GENIUS. 
 
 NOTE. See p. 192. 
 
 In speaking of the East as not being the period in which 
 philosophical genius had its most perfect development, 
 it is not meant that the East had no philosophical reflec 
 tion. For Egypt, India, and Palestine, had inquired into 
 causation, and had investigated the mind before they had 
 inquired much into the nature and properties of the sur 
 rounding material elements. But the individual was too 
 much overwhelmed by a reverence for the Infinite. Be 
 fore the idea of the Vast, the Infinite, and the Incom 
 prehensible, the Orientalist bowed himself so fully as to 
 retain but a dim perception of the individual freedom and 
 grandeur of the soul. Man became, as it were, annihilated 
 and lost in this contemplation and worship of the Imper 
 sonal and the Unseen. Although the religious element 
 may be strongly, though we think not so healthily, ex 
 pressed in this effort to realize a self-oblivion and absorp 
 tion in the One Infinite, it is plain that the annihilation 
 of man is the removal of the very source whence philo 
 sophy is to start. An independent school of philosophy 
 must start from man, from the soul. In Greece it was 
 different. Their gods were personal, were but deified 
 men. The sufficiency of human nature is there constantly 
 displayed. They hoped for nothing for which human 
 capacity was not adequate. They stood therefore on 
 better ground, and had, we think, a more philosophical 
 as well as a finer aesthetic nature. 
 
 St. Paul, with a single but masterly touch of descrip 
 tion, gives us the difference between the Jew and the 
 Greek. The one "required a sign;" the other sought 
 " after wisdom" (Sophian) : that is to say, the Jew is only 
 satisfied by supernatural phenomena ; the Greek, by intel 
 lectual, by the phenomena of reason. The Jews, indeed,
 
 GENIUS. 207 
 
 never were an aesthetic nor a philosophical race, although 
 the religious element had vast depth in these sons of 
 Abraham. It was therefore to a religious development 
 that they were called. There is in this descriptive differ 
 ence a hint at the general difference between the Oriental 
 ist and the Greek. The former was absorbed in the purely 
 religious phenomena, in which nothing is recognized but 
 the Supreme. Man, and all else, is nothing. All indi 
 viduals are but bubbles on the ocean of Deity, soon to 
 dissolve into his breast. Reverence for God is so isolated 
 as to annihilate man. In this state of the human mind, 
 it is plain that the religious element, in its powerful 
 development, encroaches on the philosophical, at least 
 enough to make the light of the latter a reflection from 
 the former. The Jews, indeed, never had an independent 
 philosophy ; and the Orientalist generally, though not 
 destitute of this order of reflection, had not, we think, the 
 acute analysis characteristic of the land of Pythagoras, 
 and the son of Ariston.
 
 208 
 
 BEAUTY 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 One hath a vision or a dreame, 
 
 So full of charminge image, that 
 
 It lingers long in courts of memorie 
 
 And love." OLD POEM. 
 
 I HAVE long supposed that some useful thoughts 
 might be given on this subject, if they served no 
 other purpose than to awaken a people extensively 
 given up to pursuits of gain, in a. small degree to 
 cultivate the pleasure which appreciation of the 
 Beautiful always brings. Whatever fortune may 
 deny to mankind, Heaven, all generous, grants this 
 luxury to all, to the unfortunate of every grade. 
 For over all there spreads a glorious sky : the stars, 
 the light, the cloud, the earth, are as radiant in 
 beauty to one as to another. Art may leave its 
 miracles in the halls and galleries of affluence chiefly ; 
 but the Infinite Artist profusely scatters the miracles 
 of beauty over all the earth. What we want is the 
 spirit to discern and enjoy this universal attribute, 
 through which the universe might yield to all men a 
 happiness which but few comparatively enjoy.
 
 BEAUTY. 209 
 
 That all mankind are designed to partake of this 
 spiritual happiness, there can be no reasonable doubt. 
 This, indeed, may be fairly inferred from the univer 
 sal diffusion of beauty through the creation, and from 
 the universal capacity of man to detect its presence. 
 This capacity in many, we admit, is still feeble, 
 owing to a want of proper development : the coarse 
 ness of animal excess, the surrender of the human 
 mind to low aims, and the depressing influence of 
 many outward circumstances, are obstacles in the 
 way of this appreciation. Still, the ability is univer* 
 sal, and its cultivation is within the reach of every 
 human being endowed with reason and the senses. 
 The child is naturally fond of beauty. Here is a 
 great proof of nature putting to silence the unbelief 
 of multitudes in their ability to enjoy this high con 
 tribution of the external world to their elevation and 
 happiness. Even in the most uncultivated, there are 
 bright evidences of its existence. The green plants 
 greeting your eye through the windows of poverty, 
 the unlettered children of nature you see gathered 
 about the fountain on the open green of a city, or at 
 the foot of the cataract or wild mountain scene, 
 instruct us that a yearning for the true and beautiful 
 still lives in the human heart, though overclouded 
 by every mental disadvantage. I claim, therefore, 
 that this is a theme for all. 
 
 Especially in this country, whose rivers, lakes, 
 forests, and prairies, with every form and description 
 of flowers, so luxuriantly unfold the varied quali 
 ties of natural beauty, that, without the least taint of 
 national vanity, one may speak of the American
 
 210 BEAUTY. 
 
 people as richly favored with the means of this cul 
 tivation. No country, as a whole, surpasses it. Nia 
 gara and Wyoming are but conspicuous scenes of 
 a corresponding whole. And the greatest wealth 
 of the new world will never be gathered by its inha 
 bitants, till they incorporate into their mental growth 
 the higher influences of the vast and beautiful nature 
 around them. 
 
 But no country is destitute of means. Nature 
 everywhere does much to elevate men. It is the 
 absence of a settled purpose to apply its means to 
 this end that proves the great evil. Beauty is every 
 where revealing itself. It is globed in the drop of 
 dew. The numberless worlds of the infinite space 
 are fashioned by its laws. It flows in the waves of 
 light, radiates from the human face divine, and spar 
 kles in the pathway of every child. Go where you 
 will into nature, and this smile of Divinity is upon 
 you. All things are the throne and palace of this 
 royal queen of earth and heaven. 
 
 Human life, also, is always revealing another kind 
 of beauty. Before all eyes, there are some noble 
 deeds to be admired. There are expressions of 
 generosity, kindness, love, purity, and courage, in 
 every country ; and to hold a true sympathy with 
 these is to enjoy a higher beauty, the beauty of char 
 acter. Common life abounds in spiritual expression. 
 Through this admiration, we rise in moral greatness 
 and excellence. And the practicability of rising into 
 the enjoyment of spiritual beauty a term I here 
 use to designate that beauty which springs from the 
 contemplation of mind as an object is evident in
 
 BEAUTY. 
 
 211 
 
 the general capacity of introspection, the ability of 
 turning the mind's eye in upon its own best opera 
 tions. Through every soul, at times, some rays of 
 beauty pass. The clouds of error and sin cannot 
 wholly intercept this primitive radiance in the most 
 abandoned. Some bright visions, in their dark path 
 ways, will be revived. In this easy access to the 
 realm of mind and nature, are the means of a refined 
 joy, that may be wielded by all persons. 
 
 Beauty is a universal property. James or Joseph, 
 as a late writer has said, may own the landscape ; 
 but the beauty and loveliness it reveals is as inuch 
 yours as his. No deeds can hold them. And if 
 property could be made of it, if it were capable of 
 having a landlord, he would undoubtedly be the 
 ideal man whose mind is always alive to the True, 
 the Sacred, the Beautiful. But it is as free as the 
 mind of its Author ; and we would that the human 
 race, in joyful raptures, would open their arms to its 
 embrace and say, " It is ours / " 
 
 The general aim of beauty, in its numberless forms, 
 is one ; and in its importance we may read the claims 
 of the subject. Its general purpose is the refinement 
 of the soul, by which I mean the calling into life and 
 being of its generous sentiments, its love of perfec 
 tion, its gentle and disinterested qualities. The 
 human spirit grows graceful under its influence. 
 The passions are softened, the moral sentiments are 
 elevated, and coarseness dies beneath its light. There 
 is a sordid selfishness, too common in all countries, 
 that proves a foe to its influence. The higher and 
 gentler virtues cannot flourish in the gross atmo-
 
 212 BEAUTY, 
 
 sphere of coarseness ; and against this barbarous 
 tendency it is the mission of beauty to strive. In an 
 ungraceful universe, man would necessarily be a 
 graceless being. 
 
 KosmoSj the word by which the elegant Greek dis 
 tinguished the world of nature, was not badly chosen, 
 since its principal meanings were order and beauty. 
 Yes, the entire world is this, from the flower that 
 blooms to the star that glows ; nor would we fall 
 into narrower views in our present inquiries ; for 
 the beautiful is as omnipresent as God, is older than 
 time, and boundless as space. 
 
 One consideration more should be added to show 
 the importance of this subject. Beauty is sacred, 
 and its natural influence prompts worship. It is the 
 boundless radiation of God. For, as he is the first 
 Being of nature, he is its grand source and centre. 
 It is a mysterious attraction, sent out through all 
 things to draw mankind to himself. It mingles with 
 the spiritual aspirations of the heart, plays in all its 
 buoyant and sustaining hopes, and glows in the fire 
 that kindles the breast of the prophet. " How amia 
 ble are thy tabernacles, O God of hosts ! " " Out 
 of Zion, the perfection of beauty, hath God shined. " * 
 And it was a pure devotion that anciently said, " Oh ! 
 worship the Lord in the beauty of holiness ; let the 
 whole earth stand in awe of him." f 
 
 But I am aware that the main position of this chap 
 ter may be opposed by an argument like this : " Beau 
 ty is a superficial quality. It may please the eye, but 
 
 * Ps. 1. 2. t Ps. xcvi. 9.
 
 BEAUTY. 213 
 
 we are to find support in utility. To yield ourselves 
 to its charms is to become, in the end, effeminate." 
 
 In reply to this, I would say that it must be to 
 the superficial that beauty is a superficial quality, 
 and that minds imbibing the thought and spirit of 
 nature behold it more as belonging to the heart than 
 to the surface of things. It is too universal to be 
 spoken of lightly. It belongs to the whole soul, 
 in its serene deeps, as much and more than to " the 
 eye." Its best influences are in the depths more 
 than over the surfaces of life. 
 
 It is admitted, that effeminacy might follow the 
 constant study of the beautiful, if it be separated 
 from use. But in nature these are not disjoined. 
 The true standard by which to determine utility to a 
 human being must be the wants of his entire nature ; 
 in which case it will appear, that beauty, being the 
 satisfaction of a real want, is itself as truly useful as 
 are the ordinary means of existence. Use is in 
 cluded in the absolute sense of this term ; as, indeed, 
 nothing is excluded from its dominion. 
 
 But, admitting the relative distinction between 
 beauty and utility, how can the former effeminate, 
 when followed in our mental cultivation by a similar 
 balance of utility to that which we observe between 
 the two in nature ? Does God aim at this effect in 
 beautifying so largely his creation ? Do not the 
 mightiest forces of nature yield a high order of 
 beauty ? The ocean is a sublime order of beauty ; 
 but who can speak of effeminacy, when inspired by 
 its vast calmness, or its arousing might ? This ob 
 jection is founded, I fear, in ignorance of what
 
 214 BEAUTY. 
 
 beauty is, and of the real danger of the age. The 
 danger is, not that society will forsake its love of 
 dollars, and yield itself to the undue cultivation 
 of imagination and taste, but that multitudes will 
 think many times of the dollar, whilst few will pause 
 to drink in the light of beauty from the setting sun 
 or the wayside flowers. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE IN AND THE OUT OF BEAUTY. 
 
 <4 1 pondered much on that meeting of two points." 
 
 TRAVELLER. 
 
 In looking into the philosophy of beauty, many 
 difficulties spring up in the path of the most diligent 
 and capable inquirer. So, indeed, do difficulties 
 become overwhelming, when we ask to know the 
 nature of any one thing. All essence is incompre 
 hensible ; and the qualities and laws which belong 
 to essence are not all of them easily learned. In 
 denning qualities of matter or mind, there is danger 
 of supposing, that they are denned when only named 
 by words, and that the use of synonymes furnish 
 explanations. I apply this remark to this subject 
 especially, from the fact, that no attribute of nature 
 more artfully evades the grasp of logic than this. 
 None other is more mysterious ; and I am inclined 
 to think, that the charm and grace of this quality is 
 owing not a little to its undefinablc mystery. There
 
 BEAUTY. 215 
 
 is a sort of plainness about what we fully know, that 
 causes observation to pass it by ; but in that which 
 mingles the known and the unknown, the attention 
 fastens itself with power ; and where all that can be 
 clearly perceived, and all that merely gives us glim 
 merings of ideas, are in their nature delightful, their 
 mingling takes us captive by a power we love to 
 feel, but cannot well define. Indeed, definitions are 
 exceedingly poor in the presence of this enchanting 
 mystery, which, though theories attempting its ex 
 planation outnumber the graces and muses com 
 bined, still seems to claim residence in fairy-land, 
 rather than in the logic dominions of close ana 
 lysis. 
 
 But the child is conscious of the fact. He knows 
 what beauty is, playing among the daisies. So do 
 we, when we yield ourselves to nature fully and 
 freely. A certain distance is demanded. But when 
 we intrude our materialism upon it, when we ap 
 proach it through the rough handling and question 
 ing of our saucy logic, it seems gently to retreat, 
 like the ghost in Hamlet, as if conscious of a certain 
 violence in being thus arraigned. It is far better to 
 go out into nature without a theory. Be free as 
 the unbound universe about thee. Hume, Alison, 
 Walker, and Burke, may give us theories and doc 
 trines well worth being studied ; but the beautiful in 
 art and nature still stretches out beyond them. Its 
 ever -widening circles no master measures. I would 
 not speak lightly of philosophy on this subject ; for 
 to all things there is doubtless a proper philosophy. 
 I only speak of the folly involved in the supposition,
 
 216 BEAUTY. 
 
 that any human theory has or will make known all 
 the mysteries of so vast a reality. 
 
 But there is an inward and an outward fact in 
 volved in all appreciation of the beautiful, that does 
 much to exhibit its sources. 
 
 The inward fact is first. Let me illustrate. You 
 offer the untaught child a fresh and blooming flower. 
 We will suppose this to be done for the first time ; 
 or offer it a picture displaying beauty of colors. 
 At once it exclaims, " Beautiful ! " But whence 
 came this spontaneous verdict ? Scores of animals, 
 skilful in their spheres, would have given no sign of 
 delight amidst the miracles of the landscape and the 
 wonders of Raphael. This verdict cannot be ac 
 counted for but by an innate capacity of beauty, 
 a latent sense of the beautiful, preceding the percep 
 tion and delight awakened by the external object. 
 The outward object corresponded to the inward 
 sense, and thereby had the power of making it ac 
 tive. The soul, being descended from the Supreme 
 Beauty, partakes of the faculties whence all beauty 
 sprang, and is therefore adapted to discern its radi 
 ance wherever it appears. This is the great primi 
 tive fact, without which no excellence of visible 
 objects had ever impressed us. It is soul that sees, 
 hears, speaks, feels. Outward objects can only call 
 into action what the mind originally has. Philoso 
 phy has indeed said, " The soul creates the beauty it 
 beholds," a statement which allows nothing for 
 the outward fact, whilst to others the outward fact is 
 every thing. But, in the compromise of these ex 
 tremes, in the union of mind and surrounding nature,
 
 BEAUTY. 217 
 
 you have the true mean. No sane mind, not even 
 in highest rhapsody, believes that Niagara and the 
 Alps wear a beauty by itself created, that visible 
 scenes are not developing causes ; and none can 
 well deny, that a nature containing the seminal 
 principles from which the beautiful springs is alone 
 capable of admiring its manifold revelations. The 
 contradictory blindness which ascribes all mental 
 manifestation to an arbitrary education is worthy of 
 little patience. It cannot see what the various issues 
 it contemplates imply as their source. Whoever 
 notes the spontaneous emotions of delight that spring 
 up in view of certain objects, or regards the same in 
 children who are left to the free action of their own 
 preference, will see that, back of all education, there 
 lies this interior sense, without which there would 
 be nothing to educate in reference to this matter. 
 Moreover, there are laws which determine human 
 education on this subject in the mind itself; so that 
 the uniformity of ideas, so far as they exist, is owing 
 to them. The sun and stars are in all climes beauti 
 ful, not because education first affirmed it, but be 
 cause the soul, in its precedency of all theory, so 
 affirmed, and so affirms. 
 
 To this inward source of beauty all nature and 
 art at once refer us. For nature, as the creation 
 of God, can only display Avhat before existed in 
 the Creative Mind. All the beauty that ever will 
 be found in the universe was first in the idea 
 of its glorious Architect, and afterwards embodied 
 into this boundless array of worlds, and the varie 
 ties of lesser things they contain. Therefore we 
 19
 
 218 BEAUTY. 
 
 ought not to rest in the mere perception of beauty 
 in sensuous objects. As the radiance of God, it 
 should suggest the perfection and presence of the 
 heavenly Artist. And to us there appears to be 
 a deeper joy in this contemplation of nature, as 
 being divine Idea taking form, than in those which 
 never behold it as the tranquil mirror of a Pa 
 rental Mind. Art, in every age, is representative 
 of human aspiration and idea. What can you find 
 in the glories of the Pantheon, in the grandeur of 
 ancient ruins, in the captivating marvels of Ra 
 phael and Michael Angelo, that did not first exist as 
 perfect and as real in the idea of the several con 
 structive geniuses, as they do when enshrined in the 
 visible art ? Certainly, it lies not in the gift of 
 any being to perform an act which shall be more 
 perfect than the conception it fulfils. No being, 
 human or divine, can go beyond this limit to his 
 poAver ; and it is characteristic of the best human 
 effort to fall below the mind's ideal. Yet do not 
 many half-believe that the outward fact is the only 
 reality ? 
 
 But let us view this theme subjectively. Nature 
 strikes us under the two aspects of beauty and de 
 formity. Its scenes, addressing the senses, com 
 municate to the mind its first rude thought of 
 beauty. And what is most remarkable is the power 
 the mind has to seize this primitive idea, and to 
 heighten it above the original scenes that first sug 
 gested it. You can imagine a sublimer mountain, 
 a more beautiful cloud, than you have ever seen. 
 There is a power within you to rise above nature
 
 BEAUTY. 219 
 
 itself, to idealize a beauty surpassing the rude scene. 
 Hence art may, in its sphere, excel external na 
 ture ; that is to say, it may give many intimations 
 of a perfection beyond it. I say not, that art, seek 
 ing to supply the place of nature, could equal it ; as 
 a forest of Ionic columns, in stately and ornamental 
 grandeur, might surpass the trunks and bodies of 
 trees in proportion and ornament ; yet, from its fail 
 ure to answer the ends for which the forest exists, 
 the absence of life, and its correspondence with the 
 rest of nature, would render it out of place. A 
 cloud to which we might transfer all the colors of 
 the rainbow, at first would strike us as more beautiful 
 than all other clouds ; yet its want of correspondence 
 with other parts of the natural system would mar 
 and not enhance the beauty of the skies. It is only 
 when art keeps within its proper sphere that it can 
 join with other evidences in support of the doctrine 
 advanced, that the mind can improve on the scenes 
 that originally make the first revelations of beauty. 
 
 Each one sees nature through his particular men 
 tal state. This fact varies the beautiful after the 
 endless variety of minds and mental conditions. 
 Who can represent the moods of a single mind for 
 one month or a year ? They vary like the skies. 
 No two have precisely the same association of ideas, 
 no two the same mental states, and no two ever 
 witness exactly the same beauty. From each mind, 
 different hues are shed. From each scene, a differ 
 ent language is spoken. Each, looking out through 
 his particular feelings, education, and habits of life, 
 is like an observer in the dome of a Turkish castle,
 
 220 BEAUTY. 
 
 looking out through a score of differently painted 
 glasses upon city, field, and forest. If he looks 
 through vermilion, all the world he can see is ver 
 milion. If he looks through green and blue, then 
 all is green and all is blue. So each man looks out 
 through his moods and states. 
 
 The mind has endless varieties : so has nature 
 without. Hence arise, in different countries, various 
 standards of beauty. The modem Persian hates 
 red hair, whilst the Turk enthusiastically admires it. 
 In China, young ladies pluck their eyebrows to make 
 them thin and long. The ladies of Japan gild their 
 teeth, whilst those of India paint them red. In some 
 countries, mothers break the noses of their children, 
 and in others press their heads between boards ; thus 
 torturing nature into their idea of the beautiful. The 
 straight nose of the Greek had as many admirers as 
 the Roman aqueline curve, though in ancient Persia 
 this latter feature often indicated its possessor as 
 worthy of the crown. Thus vary the criteria for 
 determining the bcauliful in all countries, though 
 there is far greater uniformity in the interpretation 
 of it from the visible world ; since flowers, oceans, 
 mountains, stars, speak a similar language to all 
 nations, varying mostly through different degrees of 
 intellect. The various standards express the degree 
 of advancement to which a people has arrived. 
 
 The association of ideas which, like a band of 
 angels, accompanies us wherever we go takes 
 hold of the two sources I have named. How va 
 rious and subtle are these mental associations ! No 
 man, perhaps, can thoroughly analyze all their
 
 BEAUTY. 221 
 
 causes. A scene, through similitude, and perhaps 
 through contrast, with thoughts and impressions the 
 mind has from former experience, may awaken 
 images and ideas for which no analysis can account. 
 Two streams meet. The current of past experience 
 and impression goes to determine the association of 
 ideas that each person has, whilst an influence from 
 the object or objects beheld meets this, and aids the 
 creation of the mental association through which 
 the scene is to yield its highest delight. The tree, the 
 rock, and the rose, will not allow you the same com 
 bination. Each thing must speak to you its own 
 language ; and, as there is an endless variety to 
 things and to individual minds, the range of associa 
 tion seems to be unbounded. 
 
 But the outward fact goes much further. Its 
 pOAver in forming the association has been merely 
 stated as a fact. But the relations of the various 
 external beauties to each other, or the infinite variety 
 and contrast through which the beautiful appears, 
 do much not only to promote a similar variety in the 
 spiritual beauty which the mind, in its variety of 
 faculties, and under its diversity of circumstances, 
 may constantly unfold, but they go far to create 
 DEFINITE conceptions. The spirit of nature contrives 
 that each object shall wear a hue of beauty peculiar 
 to itself. One star differs from another in glory ; so 
 of each mute and living thing. And this infinitude of 
 contrast not only enriches but sharpens the apprecia 
 tive power of every observer. 
 
 To the same end, and perhaps still more strongly, 
 does the contrast of beauty and deformity univer- 
 
 19*
 
 222 BEAUTY. 
 
 sally tend. There are, indeed, two points of view 
 from which all objects in nature may be contem 
 plated. First, we examine an object as a unit, as a 
 thing by itself; and, second, as a part of the uni 
 versal whole, which we can imagine, but cannot 
 know. Perhaps a third relation is as important as 
 these two, which is the contemplation of objects with 
 reference to that particular whole of nature coming 
 within the kingdom of the senses. We instinctively 
 affirm beauty in positive, comparative, and super 
 lative degrees of certain things we see, and deformity 
 of certain other things, though, in the contempla 
 tion of these in their relation to the grand whole, it 
 may be plausibly supposed that they are necessary 
 parts of one Infinite Beauty. Deformity, as we term 
 it, in the great drama of nature, is much like Ther- 
 sites in the play, " Troilus and Cressida." He is an 
 ill-formed, scurrilous Greek, when viewed by him 
 self ; but, viewed in his relation to the whole play, 
 he is an indispensable part of its interest and beauty. 
 Whilst, therefore, as a whole, the universe enshrines 
 the Infinite Beauty, there is a practical sense in which 
 beauty and deformity are so blended in the details 
 of nature as to invigorate our appreciative sense, by 
 the sharpening power of contrast. But, through 
 whatever channel speculation may flow, there is ever 
 a meeting of the two facts, soul and nature, the 
 fact without, and the fact within ; which, like the cor 
 respondence of thirst and water, eye and light, co 
 exist in harmony for eve.r.
 
 BEAUTY. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 CONDITIONS AND ELEMENTS. 
 
 223 
 
 It not being the province of philosophy proper to 
 make known the essence of any one thing, and hav 
 ing already spoken of beauty as finding no permanent 
 home in any theory we have, or in any we may 
 expect, I cannot consistently attempt to tell what 
 beauty is. Words cannot explain it ; and logic, in its 
 pursuit, is much like the captivated child bending its 
 way to the rainbow. But all things have conditions 
 and laws ; and to point out some of these, on the 
 present subject, is perhaps the most that can be 
 done. Beauty itself is too divine to be held by phi 
 losophical creeds ; and perhaps the great error of its 
 expounders has been contraction of views, a making 
 one species of beauty the theory for all. It has not 
 been sufficiently remembered that beauty is like 
 Proteus, taking all forms, with nature unchanged. 
 Plato, in his two dialogues, very wisely attempted 
 no analysis. Cicero gives us a good opinion of his 
 wisdom in being equally indefinite. 
 
 But, among the circumstances of beauty, perhaps 
 proportion and symmetry of parts have more than 
 any other obtained the reputation of being a law, or 
 the law. It is very certain that the beautiful often 
 assumes this form. Each drop of rain is a globe, a 
 well-proportioned unit. The earth, sun, and stars, 
 are fashioned to this law. Plants and animals quite
 
 BEAUTY. 
 
 generally express it. In the human form, it holds 
 decisive empire over all that is graceful. But this 
 law is no boundary ; for the swan, whose neck is out 
 of all proportion to its body, is the most beautiful of 
 birds. The tail of the peacock is longer than its 
 neck and body combined. Behold many small blos 
 soms on large trees, and large flowers on slender 
 stalks ! View the wild and broken scenery of rocks 
 and mountains, romantically beautiful to all observ 
 ers, and you will see that proportion is but one 
 of the garments in which beauty is sometimes at 
 tired. 
 
 Regularity, order, transmit to us many of its rays. 
 In the shells of the sea, in the many animal struc 
 tures, and in the constellated flowers that garnish 
 these upper fields of space, the beautiful takes order 
 as its queenly dress. From the central palace to the 
 most distant circumference of the Creator's work, is 
 the reign of order, order in its widest sense, inclu 
 ding the rage of elements that seem to set it at bold 
 
 O O 
 
 defiance. A single leaf it is a miracle of refined 
 structure, a marvel of delicate regularity. Much of 
 the delight we receive in the study of any portion 
 of nature is the perfect order there revealed ; for the 
 soul ever seeks to realize this idea in the arrange 
 ment of affairs, in the systematizing of its thoughts, 
 and in the fulfilment of its loftiest hopes. But it will 
 not permit order to become a bondage, and delights 
 in its seeming ruptures when a great force is display 
 ed. The whirlwind, wheeling off with leaves and 
 flowers ; the cataract, with its dashing currents and 
 foaming spray ; and the wild coursing storm, yield a
 
 BEAUTY. 225 
 
 beauty touchingly welcome to the heart. Ruins, 
 scattered along in melancholy grandeur, are often 
 more deeply eloquent than the sculptured column 
 and the fretted aisle of the most magnificent temple. 
 Delicacy is one of beauty's forms. In the number 
 less flowers of spring, in the foliage of the deep and 
 shading forest, and in the loveliness of the gentler 
 sex, it would seem that the spirit of beauty had 
 chosen this as its favorite expression. Its speech is 
 gently powerful to the mightiest minds. Beauty, in 
 its mild and tender forms, yields probably the sweet 
 est delight ; and so much of its genius seems to find 
 expression in these, that Burke well nigh founded 
 his theory upon them. A delicate frame is his fifth 
 condition, and comparative smallness is his first 
 quality of beauty. There is a silent hovering of 
 thought I cannot well describe, at the sight of frail 
 and delicate forms of loveliness, that seems to place 
 us in sympathy with all the innocent helplessness 
 and trusting simplicity Ave meet in human life. There 
 is that in the association they suggest that even 
 moves a pensive, generous feeling toward the pure 
 and less powerful of our kind. We love these deli 
 cate hues, whether in the golden tints of the cloud, 
 when the sun goes down, or in the colors that beau 
 tify the many leaves and flowers. Whatever the 
 forms, we love these delicate hues of nature as the 
 movers of the sweet and gentler concords of our in 
 ward harmony. But so far are these forms of 
 beauty from being sufficient data for a system, that 
 all the vast and sweeping forces of nature, with 
 which they contrast, are even more beautiful.
 
 226 BEAUTY. 
 
 There is indeed a blending of SIMPLICITY and 
 MAJESTY in the operation of natural forces and in 
 natural scenes that produces beauty. We are con 
 scious of this when we witness the rising of the sun, 
 still more perhaps when a gorgeous sunset displays 
 the increased magnitude and splendor of his form, 
 baptizing hills and clouds in the golden radiance of 
 his own celestial fire. The starry heaven looking 
 down through the countless eyes of unclouded night, 
 the flow of widening rivers to their respective seas, the 
 ceaseless rollings of the seasons, the action of the 
 great law of decay and of life over the noblest 
 parts of terrestrial nature, and the easy, sublime mo 
 tions of the solar worlds through space, present to 
 our imagination the mystic union of these two quali 
 ties. Likewise do they blend in the greatness of all 
 superior minds. 
 
 Fitness, so far from belonging to a sordid utility, 
 is one of the great circumstances of beauty. Utility, 
 as perfectly answered by the adaptations of nature , 
 and art, comes within the circle of beauty. Things 
 answer to ends. Columns in a stately temple, dif 
 ferent limbs and organs of the human system, har 
 vests waving in the wind, and even the fountains, 
 the woodland bowers, and the light that fills the air 
 and skies, suggest this answering of means to ends. 
 Nature's kingdom is very much a kingdom of uses ; 
 and, could we see as in a glance all the ends and 
 wants to which it ministers, I am not sure that utility 
 would not fail to include its whole domain. Use 
 can easily be widened to infinity : so can beauty. 
 But, in the relative speech that distinguishes the two,
 
 BEAUTY. 227 
 
 it may be said that, throughout nature, beauty and 
 utility are twin sisters, walking always hand in 
 hand. 
 
 But she charms us often through the dualism and 
 the sameness of uniformity. " Our limbs and organs 
 serve us in pairs." * The two hands, feet, eyes, ears, 
 however much the same, are more beautiful than if 
 each of the two varied in color, size, and form. The 
 animal of one eye or leg, could it be found, would 
 shock us, not only because the education of the 
 senses is against it, but because the idea of utility 
 and correspondence of parts would be violated. 
 There is a dual uniformity in animal structures, 
 ministering alike to what is beautiful and useful. 
 The nerves and muscles are extended in pairs. The 
 brain, with its two hemispheres ; the earth, in two 
 continents ; the heavens, or the space above, rounded 
 to the eye, meeting an opposite space (which, though 
 by us unseen, is its perfect counterpart) ; the poles ; 
 the " up and down ; " the for and against of every 
 subject, exhibit this uniformity as the minister of 
 beauty and use. This, however, is but one of the 
 Proteus-forms which beauty assumes. 
 
 Add to these, unity and variety. Nature is a 
 unit. So is each race it contains : so is each indi 
 vidual of each race. But the grand unity of being 
 spreads out into infinite variety. It is one of the 
 great and bright evidences of One Supreme Causer, 
 that, through the infinite range of variety, such laws 
 and relations subsist as unite the whole into system ; 
 
 Knight.
 
 228 BEAUTY. 
 
 thereby teaching the unity of the Creative Mind. 
 Man, fashioned in the likeness of the world in which 
 he is placed, in the wonderful variety of his gifts, and 
 in the perfect unity of his nature, appears to sum up 
 every material and spiritual law known and un 
 known, so that the universe but represents him ; 
 whence it is that monotony offends, whilst the " va 
 riety in unity and the unity in variety" delight him. 
 Variety alone would prove as a wilderness of so 
 many paths, that the traveller is lost ; it would so 
 distract as to become a universal confusion, whilst it 
 could not possibly contribute to the growth of mind, 
 since this implies that varieties contribute to one end ; 
 that is to say, they are pervaded by unity, which is 
 the only possibility of such contribution. In the 
 midst of boundless variety, unity is the self-recover 
 ing principle. Through it we regain our way, find 
 support and poAver in its connection, and become 
 able to bring all impressions, all means, into one end, 
 the improving and perfecting of the soul, or into 
 various particular purposes. 
 
 What charming varieties are woven into the struc 
 ture of flowers and other vegetable forms ! What 
 variety in the mysteries of color and of sound ! 
 What numbers of bending lines and contrasts appear 
 in the structures of the feathery throng, and of the 
 many races of walking animals ! And, in the human 
 species, the charm of variety has ministers, not only 
 in the many bending, waving lines of beauty reign 
 ing in their forms, but in the diversity of mental 
 expression, and even in shades of the skin. Hogarth 
 thought that, in beauty, variety is the principal char-
 
 BEAUTY. 229 
 
 acteristic. This may be so. But were there only 
 one violet on earth, and only one star in the skies, 
 that violet and that star were most beautiful, though 
 the variety of an extensive contrast were wholly 
 withdrawn. 
 
 Beauty is also fond of departing from the direct 
 line into curves and circles. The straight line, long 
 continued, delights not the senses, whilst the grace 
 ful deviations win our admiration.* Nature seems 
 to compromise straight lines, angles, and circles, in 
 her noblest productions. She sends up the tree and 
 the plant in a direct line, whilst she rounds the body 
 and the branches, tapering both, that her stops and 
 pauses be not abrupt. In the animal organization, 
 the body and limbs exhibit the various combination 
 of the angle, the circle, and the bending line. " The 
 eye is a circle." The head tends to a sphere. The 
 arms, legs, and fingers, are, when you please, nearly 
 straight lines ; also they are right angles and curves. 
 The worlds are circles : they also move in circles. 
 The waving, serpentine line, as exhibited in shells 
 and flowers, and in the ornamental furniture of our 
 dwellings, Hogarth calls the line of beauty, which, in 
 the infancy of plants and animals, appears to prevail, 
 but gradually gives way to straight lines and angles, 
 as power is developed. But the all-beautiful hath 
 need of angles as much as of spirals and curves. 
 
 * Of course, this view is to be but partially applied ; for paral 
 lels are beautiful as curves, when answering to important ends. 
 The long straight line, as exhibited in a well-formed railway, in 
 the road extending many miles on even ground, and in many 
 other instances, is far more pleasing than curves. 
 20
 
 230 BEAUTY. 
 
 The straight grasses, " the knotted and angular stem 
 of the balsam," tell Hogarth and the curve not to 
 boast. Indeed, what geometry can measure this 
 subject, or catch so shy and beautiful a ghost ? 
 " Day is day, and night is night ; " but what more, 
 deponent saith not. 
 
 When one stands amidst the sweet and delicate 
 beauties of spring, or beholds the small and grace 
 ful form of her whose manner and movement are 
 more free and beautiful than those of larger persons, 
 he is reminded of a depth of wisdom in Burke, who 
 insists on comparative smallness as the first quality 
 in beauty. But when among rocks, over which the 
 furious torrent dashes ; when the beetling cliffs and 
 the long stretch of mountain grandeur rivet the 
 attention, and waken a deep and profound delight; 
 when the storm wails loud, and the lightning plays 
 so bravely among his vast, dark shading clouds, 
 rocking the hills, and giving a tongue to every 
 mountain, then is he sure that nature is wiser than 
 Burke, when she tells him that sublimity is a higher 
 order of beauty than ever gleamed from diminutive 
 forms ; that it, more than any other, wakens the 
 action of the whole soul. The "pretty" is perhaps 
 its lowest form, and sublimity its highest. 
 
 Nothing advances beyond the sublime. In the 
 hour of inspiration coming from the contemplation 
 of many sublime scenes over which the veil of love 
 liness is sometimes flung, the heart deeply responds 
 to this sentiment. There is a feeling of the vast 
 and the infinite, that at times stirs in the human 
 breast ; and the vast forms of nature we call sublime
 
 BEAUTY. 231 
 
 seem to step as it were from the finite on to the 
 infinite ; not the infinite precisely, but still it is a 
 step so far that it wakens the sense and suggests 
 the idea of infinity. By this the mind is upborne. 
 It freely expands under its influence, and grows con 
 scious of its real, latent might. In this there is a 
 profound pleasure, a perception and sense of beauty 
 that elevates the whole mind. It is here that the 
 beautiful takes the greatest energy, an energy 
 mild, deep, subduing. Genius has seen higher beau 
 ties among mountain and storms, than among the 
 smiles of the merely pretty in nature and art. I 
 would therefore embrace the sublime in my idea of 
 the beautiful. The Alps and the rose are equally 
 needed. Manfred best publishes our creed in his 
 rapturous utterance " Beautiful ! " 
 
 " How beautiful is all this visible world ! 
 How glorious in its action and itself! " 
 
 Beauty, then, in our philosophy, belongs to no one 
 form or law. We cannot wholly refer it to organi 
 zation. God is not measured by creeds, nor beauty 
 by theories. We go into nature free. We forget 
 all systems, when charmed or moved. But in every 
 scene and personal form, the Je ne sais quoi, the 
 I don't know what of the matter, is always the rich 
 est part of the beautiful ; and appreciative power 
 will always be so far relative, that the owl shall be 
 most beautiful to the owl, the sparrow to the spar 
 row, the human to the human. Proteus, in all his 
 forms, is Proteus still.
 
 232 BEAUTY. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE MISSION OF BEAUTY. 
 
 Beauty makes matter more spiritual. Under its 
 rays, the material comes into nearer sympathy and 
 relation with mind. This I conceive to be a grand 
 part of the mission of beauty in the natural world. 
 It seems to render matter more spirit-like. The 
 soul, under the influences of beautiless orbs and 
 forms of matter, would not only be depressed in its 
 higher and purer aspirations, but would find the 
 incongeniality between itself and the world of things 
 extremely oppressive. As a happy mediation, there 
 fore, between matter and spirit, the mantle of beauty 
 is flung over the visible world. Nature must wear 
 spiritual hues, it must be adapted to mind, or it never 
 can fulfil the office of a developing ministry to its 
 powers. 
 
 But natural beauty, in all its laws, forms, and 
 conditions, is representative of mind. The soul is 
 mirrored in all its nobler attributes. I hold a frac 
 tion of esteem for the obscure author who supposed 
 the universe to be a vast man ; for man everywhere 
 beholds himself represented in its forms. Nature 
 shadows the spirit. Sublimity of thought, purpose, 
 and passion is glassed in the grandeur of moun 
 tains, oceans, and storms. Firmness sees its image 
 in the inflexibility of law. Gentleness beholds itself 
 in the flow of rivers. Affection gives language to
 
 BEAUTY. 233 
 
 myriad flowers, and finds a symbol in the power that 
 binds the parts of the universe together. Sorrow 
 and sadness seem to speak in the plaintive-voiced 
 winds. Peace beholds her likeness in the quiet of 
 earth and the tranquillity of skies. Wisdom sees 
 herself in the all-pervading light. Trueness speaks 
 through every law and agency of God around us. 
 The whole soul is represented. Nature material is 
 from the Perfect Mind : it therefore represents it. 
 And the more noble and perfect the mind human 
 becomes, the more does it behold its own attributes 
 reflected in the visible world, since the condition of its 
 faculties more resembles the Fountain in which the 
 external creation had its origin. Man loves himself ; 
 and it is a contribution to his happiness to behold so 
 glorious a universe as the expression of spiritual 
 pOAvers and tendencies in himself, which are of more 
 worth than it. 
 
 Still more is natural beauty the stepping-stone to 
 spiritual beauty. We ascend from the lower to the 
 superior order. The numberless analogies connect 
 ing matter and mind permit this, the seen always 
 pointing the way to the unseen. For every law, 
 condition, and circumstance of beauty natural, there 
 is a kindred law, condition, and circumstance in- 
 beauty spiritual. When we enter the domain of 
 beautiful thought, passion, deed, sentiment, charac 
 ter, we find the whole variety, delicacy, propor 
 tion, unity, sublimity, &c. that strike us in the 
 range of the senses. All spiritual beauty and de 
 formity being represented in the domain of visibility, 
 we are prepared to perceive the beauty of character 
 
 20*
 
 234 BEAUTY. 
 
 as revealed in Washington, Howard, and Fenelon. 
 True, we use these qualifying impressions of early 
 nature unconsciously, as we do our previous know 
 ledge of distance and size in the common habits of 
 vision. Indeed, I doubt whether mankind, or any 
 portion of them, had ever been capable of enjoying 
 the beauty of character, but for the previous impres 
 sions of beauty natural. 
 
 Kindred to this is the fact, that the various forms 
 of natural beauty kindle and inspire the orator, the 
 poet, and the prophet. It is the soul that speaks ; 
 and in every sublime and kindling utterance there is 
 a deep indebtedness to the impressions and symbols 
 of natural beauty. The prophet must have his sym 
 bols. The poet also, who is very much a priest of 
 nature and life, bows at the altars of beauty, and 
 adores the perfect. Here he is inspired. He takes 
 illustrations, various as the varying shades of thought. 
 The various beauty of the soul, the deep and touch 
 ing eloquence of passion, flow into every inspired 
 discourse. As means to an end, we here behold the 
 mission of beauty. We read it in Pericles, David, 
 and Shakspeare. It may also be safely said, that, 
 were beauty and its inspirations wholly to cease, the 
 speech of the poet, the orator, and the prophet, would 
 probably become as dry as the drifting sand of the 
 desert. 
 
 Beauty in nature is favorable also to the progress 
 of science. It is intellectual. For the Creator, in 
 scattering its gems throughout the creation, attracts 
 and invites mankind to study his works. A luxury, 
 a pleasure, mingles with and lightens the toil of
 
 BEAUTY. 
 
 235 
 
 research. We feel a greater interest in the uni 
 verse, because we love the beauty and order it 
 everywhere unfolds. I have elsewhere spoken of its 
 softening, melting pOAver in attuning the heart of 
 worship. Its sweet influences are designed to be 
 one with goodness ; for often has it woke in sa 
 vage breasts the gentler spirit of love, giving to the 
 darkly vicious an hour of recovery to their nobler 
 selves. 
 
 But beauty is a bond of union between the sexes. 
 For this its bloom appears in the form and counte 
 nance of youth. The genius of nature contrives to 
 hang out attractive signs, which serve to draw con 
 genial souls together ; so that true marriage, which 
 is nature's arithmetic, adds together the two balan 
 cing fractions of humanity, man and woman ; 
 leaving the more blissful unit, of which they were 
 parts. This order of beauty, under correct moral 
 sentiment, inspires what is best and noblest in men. 
 The age of chivalry, indeed, was but the triumph of 
 woman's charms over the coarseness of the times. 
 
 This subject should not be dismissed, without re 
 minding the reader, that one of the holiest aims in 
 the mission of beauty is to awaken disinterested feel 
 ing. This is a glorious office. We are raised above 
 our selfish views and moods, we grow ashamed of 
 our narrowness, when we take large views of God's 
 works, when we walk among the noblest scenes. 
 There is a free, true, generous influence that the 
 great and lovely scenes of the earth pour upon us, 
 that revives the ingenuous in our breasts. We are 
 at home among mountains, rivers, and hills, however
 
 236 
 
 BEAUTY. 
 
 restrained in the company of our kind. We there 
 feel truth, kindness, and freedom. There is also a 
 kindredness, and perhaps a sameness, between the 
 idea of perfection and of beauty, so that the influence 
 of the beautiful tends to give the idea and aspiration 
 for the perfect. Art also owes its inspiration and 
 marvels to its presence. What, then, limits its mis 
 sion ? It flows over nations and ages. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE LAW OF ASSOCIATION. 
 " An unseen guardian ruled the band." NORTHERN WANDERER. 
 
 Things are enjoyed through thoughts. These are 
 so variously, so subtly, so quickly combined, that the 
 law of their formation becomes one of the deepest 
 facts in psychology. In most minds, these subtle 
 operations are but dimly traced ; and, even to minds 
 of superior understanding, there is a hovering of 
 mystery about the matter that challenges the clearest 
 and profoundest power of analysis. Coleridge has 
 exploded Hartley and Hobbes, leaving us Aristotle 
 as our grand theorizer on association. We will 
 therefore duly revere the masterly ancient. 
 
 It is perfectly evident to every person retaining 
 the least idea of his mental operations, that the scenes 
 he observes, the events and persons he witnesses, 
 cause an association of ideas with which these stand
 
 BEAUTY. 237 
 
 connected in the mind, and through which they are 
 either pleasingly or painfully interesting. As nothing 
 in nature stands alone, so nothing in mind is single 
 and unassociated. Thoughts and impressions seem 
 to dwell in tribes. These sudden unbidden creations 
 spring up, and, with hovering wings, pass over each 
 scene, word, countenance, and thought, we contem 
 plate. We know how various these associations are 
 under the same scenes at different times ; and, since 
 the enjoyment of the beautiful depends so much upon 
 these, I would inquire briefly into the determining 
 facts involved in the case, with a view to the general 
 laws these facts imply. 
 
 1. The object contemplated is itself a determining 
 cause. Each thing is suggestive, and each influences 
 the admirer in a manner peculiar to itself. The 
 violet necessarily causes a different combination of 
 thoughts from the rock and the tree. Places, as well 
 as persons, appear to have their peculiar genius. 
 There is an originality stamped on every thing. 
 Niagara leads your mind a certain way ; Wyoming, 
 a different way ; the Rhone and the sea, another ; 
 and so on through the numberless changes and va 
 rieties of scene and circumstance. The shades of 
 difference are infinite, even were the stronger diver 
 gences blotted out. No two places, persons, or 
 utterances, ever caused precisely the same order of 
 impressions. A bright, beautiful morning, a low- 
 ery day, a general, thought-inspiring calm, a 
 storm, spring and autumn, instruct all of the les 
 son I would here impress. 
 
 2. The particular GENIUS, EXPERIENCE, and MOODS
 
 238 BEAUTY. 
 
 of individuals are also determining causes. No two 
 minds are alike. Each has an action peculiarly its 
 own. As a particular genius presides over all the 
 reflections of the intellect, it gives character to its 
 mental associations. Hence no two minds ever 
 enjoy a scene under exactly the same hues of imagi 
 nation and fancy. 
 
 There is a particular experience of past impression 
 belonging to all. All past facts, feelings, thoughts, 
 and associations of thoughts, have left their image 
 so indelibly in the consciousness, that the question 
 may be entertained whether any of them ever be 
 come extinct, although most may be dormant and 
 inactive. It is only a part of past experience, of 
 which we retain an after-consciousness. But every 
 body knows that each present association of ideas is 
 linked with the past, some of whose impressions are 
 hourly revived and brought into new combinations. 
 To-day I stand on the shore of a lovely body of 
 waters, and, casting my eye over its placid and 
 never-freezing surface, think of Percival. Why do 
 I think of him ? Because the impression caused by 
 his poem on these very waters still exists in memory, 
 so that the moment I seek the soothing influence of 
 this beautiful scene, the music of his words, unbidden 
 except by what is before me, comes sweetly to my 
 ear. This instantly recalls another impression, and 
 the form of a famed American bard appears before 
 me ; for his appearance is vividly remembered, when 
 repeating the two first lines of Percival. I still con 
 tinue my view ; and, through similitude and contrast 
 between present scene and past impression, springs
 
 BEAUTY. 239 
 
 up the image of several bodies of water, seen before ; 
 and, whilst thinking of it as the symbol of peace and 
 of truth, I am reminded of the moral aims of nature, 
 and, through this last view, the names of some truth 
 ful teachers, marked by a high power to discern the 
 spiritual attributes of the creation, rise before me. I 
 also think of pure and peaceful characters, whom 
 memory loves to cherish ; for their lives seem to 
 blend with the quietness and loveliness of the scene. 
 
 We will suppose that another stands on the op 
 posite shore, whose mother, by misfortune, had lost 
 her life in these waters. He may enjoy a higher 
 association than the one I have sketched ; but this 
 mournful fact will be woven into the web, and, 
 whenever he sails upon such a lake, this shade will 
 be apt to fall upon his thoughts. A third, standing 
 at another point, draws from different sources ; and, 
 so far as the revival and new formation of former 
 impression enter into the mental association, it is 
 evident that diversity of individual experience has a 
 strong determining power over the diverse creation 
 of such association. Each having a combining 
 genius different from the rest, and materials of past 
 impression different from all, the diversity of mental 
 association becomes inevitably illimitable. 
 
 Some bright morning we awake among the green 
 hills of our childhood ; and the same old brooks, 
 meadows, orchards, and gate, we have so often seen, 
 appear as new. The sun rises upon new scenes. 
 Through the same lawn and near the same water- 
 brinks we have rambled many a time, a new beauty 
 dawns, when we have gained a happier mood.
 
 240 BEAUTY. 
 
 " Nature," said the German, " wears the colors of 
 the spirit," colors always varying, and always re 
 flected back to the beholder. The agitated see beauty 
 nowhere. The mind utterly walled in by sordid aims, 
 and surrendered to the grossness of animal passions, 
 gets feebler rays of the infinite beauty. But we all 
 have our exalted moments in which all things appear 
 as new, in which every work of God wears the love 
 liness of the spirit itself. But the poet did not utter 
 the whole truth, although he uttered a great truth ; 
 for the same nature that wears the spirit's colors, 
 through the variation of its own aspects, modifies 
 the spirit itself, and, to a certain extent, creates the 
 shades of its contemplations. So numerous, how 
 ever, are these mental changes, that it may be ques 
 tioned, and perhaps denied, that the mind ever twice 
 beholds the same scene under exactly the same 
 hues. What is the grand purpose of your mind 
 to-day ? What is the real centre of your affections 
 now ? What predominates as king among your 
 thoughts ? If you can answer to this, you present a 
 fact that colors all things to you. The lover sees 
 nature through his love ; the miser beholds it through 
 his coin, the joyous through his joy, the sorrowing 
 through his grief. Whatever be the inward predom 
 inating fact, it will unconsciously influence the asso 
 ciation. Who, therefore, in view of all the premises 
 thus far assumed, enjoys the beautiful most truly, 
 and through the noblest association ? He it is who, 
 having excellence of natural capacity, possesses the 
 richest material of past impression, and in whom 
 lofty aims, generous sentiments, purity of feeling,
 
 BEAUTY. 241 
 
 and refinement of intellectual cultivation, exist. The 
 true and the natural best enjoy beauty, because truth 
 and naturalness are its permanent, qualities. 
 
 3. But, in association, SIMILITUDE or likeness de 
 serves first to be named. A fact or a thought is 
 brought to your notice. Instantly it connects itself 
 with other facts in the past. It calls up some like fact 
 or thought, existent in an association which otherwise 
 had not been revived. We experience the same in 
 regard to places, when the new impressions bring 
 over them the mingling shadows of other and former 
 impressions, coming from similar scenes. 
 
 There is a singular phenomenon, somewhat diffi 
 cult of description, which probably belongs to this 
 division. Perhaps one in twenty of those who speak 
 on the subject admit, that in certain places a sudden 
 consciousness, like a flash of intuition, has arisen of 
 having been there before, or of having had some 
 vision of the very scenes, persons, and utterances, 
 before them. In some instances, a connection equally 
 sudden has sprung up between the consciousness of 
 having held the scene as a prophetic picture before 
 seeing it, and the consciousness of something soon to 
 occur, in order to fulfil this picture entire. Some 
 may seek a solution in the idea that it is a gleam of 
 dormant prescience suddenly bursting forth, a flash 
 of destiny evolved from a prophetic soul ; or, per 
 haps, a whisper from spirit-land, apprising the pilgrim 
 that he is walking his destined path. Few, I imagine, 
 would repeat the Platonic vision and doctrine of 
 cycles. But, standing on humbler grounds, I would 
 suggest it as a probability that the singular phenom- 
 
 21
 
 242 BEAUTY. 
 
 enon is owing to one of two causes, a similitude 
 between the actual scene and a scene at some pre 
 vious time vividly imagined (for the imagination 
 sketches scenes the eye has never beheld), or a like 
 ness between the present actual scene and a former 
 scene really beheld, whose image has not faded from 
 the mind ; but, having lost its connection with particu 
 lar facts in the association, time and place cannot be 
 identified. In either case, likeness is the law by 
 which the mysterious fact occurs. In some instances, 
 memory has so triumphed over the dimness of the 
 forgotten facts in the former impression as to recall 
 place and time, thereby solving the mystery. 
 
 There are certain parts of our associations, more 
 vivid than the rest, which recall the others ; but the 
 particular impression which, through likeness or con 
 trast, recalls a whole past association, usually disap 
 pears from it, when the two are dismissed. 
 
 4. CONTRAST is a striking condition of association. 
 The refined in idea often suggests the coarse and the 
 rude. Spiritualism brings up materialism ; power 
 reminds you of weakness ; permanency, of change ; 
 life, of death ; light, of darkness ; and the true re 
 minds you of the false. 
 
 But contrast is not so universal in its range pro 
 bably as likeness ; and, where its exhibitions are 
 brightest in an association, likeness is usually co- 
 present in the formative process. In a reverie that 
 A. enjoyed, a spiritual view of human immortality 
 suggested the common physical basis on which many 
 have placed it. At this instant, a likeness between 
 the coarser view and the rough facts of nature arose
 
 BEAUTY. 243 
 
 as a part of the present association. " Perhaps," 
 said he, " these views best correspond to the world 
 around us. Behold these frozen grounds, thesi-e 
 rocks, these stumps and stubble ! See all this bat 
 tling for subsistence with the elements ! Nature 
 stands up in gross facts ; and who knows that these 
 refined sentiments best become man or his lot ? " 
 Whereupon a former association came up from its 
 long repose in the grave of memory, in which an old 
 friend of bold visage stood forth, challenging a dreamy 
 sage " to explain him away " if he could, I say he 
 came up, place, manner, and time, along with him. 
 But how came he into his presence ? It is evident 
 that contrast united the first two ideas ; that likeness 
 between one of them, and a corresponding coarseness 
 of external matter, suggested the thought that nature, 
 in her stubborn facts, refuses to be etherealized ; and 
 that likeness between this thought and the bold chal 
 lenge of his former friend brought him over a large 
 distance, both of time and space, into the association. 
 And I am inclined to think, that this example comes 
 quite near to a just representation of the usual bal 
 ance of likeness over contrast in the great majority 
 of mental associations. 
 
 5. When things are contemplated as effects, they 
 naturally suggest cause; and, since this relation of 
 cause and effect extends into every life and history, 
 as well as into nature, it becomes a necessary and 
 indeed a general law of association. Rome must 
 suggest its Romulus, the rivers their springs, St. 
 Peter's its Angelo, the universe its God. This prin 
 ciple is too plain, I judge, to need any explanations.
 
 244 BEAUTY. 
 
 6. Connection in time is plainly involved in this 
 matter, as is also connection in space. Cotempora- 
 neous events recall each other ; or, more properly, 
 the mind is enabled to recall them through their 
 cotemporaneousness. Equally useful is the connec 
 tion in reference to space ; for the impression made 
 upon your mind by the cataract naturally awakens 
 those made by the wild and rugged grandeur of the 
 proximate rocks, the green shrubbery, and the wild 
 flowers blooming near. In these conditions, so im 
 perfectly expressed, the principal facts of association 
 are represented, The facts stated under the first 
 two divisions, namely, the objects contemplated, the 
 particular genius, experience, and moods of the indi 
 vidual, although they go to determine what the char 
 acter of the associations will be, do nothing to exhibit 
 the law by which the associations occur. This must 
 be traced in the subsequent statement. Time, place, 
 connection of cause and effect, likeness and contrast, 
 seem to cover the entire ground. It is not certain 
 that there is any one general law under which these 
 facts of association may be said to come. Impres 
 sions that co-exist in the mind are more readily 
 recalled ; and the first, and indeed the main, thing 
 necessary to recall a past association, seems to be 
 the recollection of the more vivid part. If there is a 
 general law that flows through and masters all the 
 acts of association, it would appear to be this, a 
 cotemporaneity of impressions ; but this, we think, 
 may be doubted as being all-sufficient. 
 
 But this is not the place for extended treatise on 
 the associative law. I would, however, seek a prac-
 
 BEAUTY. 245 
 
 tical benefit. There is a sense in which the general 
 character of the mental associations may be im 
 proved through a proper interference of the will : a 
 pure feeling, good and generous aims, and intellect 
 enriched and liberalized, must always conspire to 
 nobler associations, to those through which the true, 
 the beautiful, the just, and the sacred, shall ever 
 more be real and divine. That mere perception 
 " is passive to an external power " will not be de 
 nied ; but there are minglings of the voluntary, even 
 in the spontaneous movements ; and, as the will has 
 the command of the attention, as also the guardian 
 ship of the mind's progress and purity, it may do 
 much in determining to what extent and in what man 
 ner the beauty of the universe shall be enjoyed. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 MEDIUMS. 
 
 Returning to the dominion of the senses, it should 
 be denied, that the beauty of the visible world has 
 ever been half seen ; for nature is not half known. 
 A new race or age, standing on higher grounds of 
 knowledge arid moral excellence, would see a far 
 more beautiful world than has ever yet dawned on 
 men, in the same old but youthful nature that now 
 so lovingly surrounds each and all of us. Nature 
 will always keep pace with the soul, and will reflect 
 back its real hues. 
 21*
 
 246 
 
 BEAUTY. 
 
 Were men commissioned to re-make the world, 
 what a medley would it be ! Some, it may be 
 imagined, would tear the rose and the violet from 
 nature's brow, as the ungodly artificials that grew 
 up since the fall. Others, of more serious mood, 
 would multiply her shades, and deepen her solitudes. 
 Others would bring out a comic laugh from every 
 nook and corner. The fool of mammon would mul 
 tiply corn-fields and cotton plantations, whilst many 
 a young sentimentalist would reduce all to a land 
 scape of very beautiful things ! But the world's 
 beauty would undoubtedly be marred, not enhanced, 
 were even its deserts to be annihilated, and its owls 
 to -be slain. Oh ! give us nature just as she is, with 
 the old rock and moss on it ; for nothing is so good 
 and so beautiful. 
 
 Vegetative life delights us in flowers. Who can 
 forget Burns and his mountain daisy ? The lily, 
 meekly lifting its head over turbid waters, and smil 
 ing around upon a dismal waste, makes all descrip 
 tion silent. Color, form, and fragrance, come out to 
 bless the senses. They are a resurrection and a 
 life to all gentle and delightful motion. Colors 
 are beauty's pencillings. Motion is her minister. 
 Worlds move in graceful orbits, never breaking the 
 law of measure. Clouds are poetic drapery, taking 
 all forms, and speaking all speech. Their shadow 
 once protected the doomed city from the Roman. 
 These mystic forms that temper the light of heaven, 
 that give shower, rainbow, and lightning-gleams to 
 men, are more expressive of mystery than other 
 modes of matter. Hence, superstition has listened
 
 BEAUTY. 
 
 to thunder as being more directly the voice of Di 
 vinity than are the voices of the bird and the sea. 
 The beauty spread out over land, sea, and air, 
 would speak with all, would be loved by all ; but the 
 imagination is so much greater than the most elo 
 quent pens, it can do so much more for each and 
 all, that the best attempts at exhibition look meagre 
 and useless. Let us sooner say, Open your eyes to 
 what God does before you. Read on his page what 
 is more perfectly written than Harolds or Hamlets. 
 Beauty is also intellectual. Art and life are but its 
 various appearing. There are thoughts more beau 
 tiful than stars, and affections more lovely than 
 flowers ; wherefore, the soul is a higher fountain of 
 beauty than Avhat the senses behold. 
 
 The world's mind is individualized as variously as 
 the world's matter, and the beauty which appertains 
 thereto has similar variety and conditions. Intellec 
 tual beauty dawns upon us through the reason and 
 the imagination. Thought is always beautiful, when 
 true to the thing and to the thinker. Naturalness is 
 indeed the great law, since nature spurns affectation, 
 and refuses to be maternal to that which is not her 
 own. Branches of living plants and trees, cut off in 
 their flowering, may appear gay when planted in the 
 garden ; but, having no root in the soil, they soon 
 droop and die, as do the thoughts of hasty minds, 
 cut off from trees of knowledge they have never 
 nourished. 
 
 Thought may have beauty in three forms, in 
 conception, utterance, and deed. The silent rising of 
 a new and great truth is as the dawn of a new sun.
 
 248 BEAUTY. 
 
 It is also the appearance of a social guest, well wor 
 thy to grace the divine banquet of the heart. In the 
 philosophical form, thought Avears a serene majesty, 
 is generous and tolerant, and, through its deep and 
 tranquil energy, penetrates the interior of things, 
 traces the ever-beautiful connection of cause and 
 effect, and by its expansiveness bursts the narrow 
 bonds of bigotry asunder. Indeed, Socrates, Aris 
 totle, Newton, and Bacon, belong to the great intel 
 lectual scenery of the earth, which, like the great 
 natural scenes, are few, but which wear a glory 
 more exalted than Niagara or the Vale of Chamouni, 
 from whose verdant bosom you look up to the crys 
 tal glaziers, and behold the snows of a thousand 
 years. 
 
 Arguments^ bearing up the important proposition, 
 are more beautiful than Grecian columns. Thought, 
 winged by imagination and plumed by fancy, has, 
 like " the bird of paradise," beauty in its flight. We 
 love such lively visitants. When we have long 
 walked the spacious halls of reason's granite temple, 
 and become weary of the immense theorization that 
 for a time impressed us with its grandeur, it is good 
 to rest and regale ourselves in the fairies' castle, the 
 home and dwelling-place of the imagination. 
 
 Thought has beauty in its apparel of words. All 
 beautifying genius gives proof of itself in making for 
 it a fitting garment. " He tempereth the wind to 
 the shorn lamb," " Man's inhumanity to man 
 makes countless thousands mourn," are immortal 
 utterances, not more on account of their truth than 
 of their perfect expression. First make eloquent
 
 BEAUTY. 249 
 
 the heart ; then will come beauty and eloquence of 
 words. 
 
 Action transfers beauty of thought to beauty of 
 deed, as the pictures of Raphael, the structure 
 of St. Peter's, and every generously heroic act, fully 
 prove. Art is but this transfer, giving to genius 
 " a local habitation and a name." The passions, 
 too, are deeply eloquent, in whose domain all the 
 beauties, from the wild and stormful to the soft 
 and tender, freely move. They prompt the enthusi 
 astic deed ; they breathe in sorrow's song ; they 
 work sublimely in many a chivalrous daring ; also in 
 every high and ardent hope. 
 
 The soul in its endless variety, like nature, yields 
 a universal beauty. Shakspeare represents the world 
 in drama, and in all its parts, including the fool and 
 maniac, with every weakness and infirmity. Each 
 swells the interest and heightens the beauty of the 
 whole. Every shade of character comes into the 
 play. And, if all these diversities beautify the repre 
 sentation, can the original be beautiless, that is, 
 the world just as we find it ? The soul reflects 
 beauty even from its ruins. 
 
 Hope, the great prophet of the inner temple, 
 yields superior beauty. We feel a mingled emotion, 
 when the trembling weakness, combining with the 
 deeper power of humanity, looks up in a confiding 
 trust and expectation of a good day coming ; when 
 over present trials the soul sheds down its various 
 light ; when the heart, alive by its own celestial fire, 
 flames up to heaven in love ; and hope so vigor 
 ously soars and expands as to suggest the conception
 
 250 BEAUTY. 
 
 of the finite spreading out her arms to embrace the 
 infinite. This tender sublimity, religion inspires; and 
 it evidently belongs to the most beautiful phenomena 
 of the soul. Worship, when soul-inspired, surpasses 
 Orion and Pleiades. What sacred sublimity streams 
 through the consciousness of filial union with the 
 Infinite ! What grandeur surrounds the sentiment 
 of the immortal life ! What beauty in the simple 
 sentiment of love ! 
 
 We have stood amidst the charms of Flora, and 
 asked if beauty's ray was most golden as corning 
 from it, or as coming from intellect merely ; when 
 the prophets, apostles, saints, and martyrs of truth, 
 arose to say, that the moral ray of beauty is most 
 quenchless and perfect. Goodness never wears out. 
 Its beauty, radiating from the history of Jesus, is 
 lasting as the sun and moon, and more than they 
 can win and delight the divinity of the human heart. 
 Believing, as we do, that every law of beauty in the 
 material world is representative of analogous but 
 higher laws in the beauty of mind, I have asked, in 
 what character of history are all the laws of beauty 
 probably expressed ? Who is he that represents them 
 entire ? There is but one in whom every known 
 law of beauty appears to have been expressed. He 
 is Jesus of Christianity, the sinless spirit, the bright 
 and morning star of the new age of truth, good 
 ness, and peace. 
 
 The soul works its likeness upon the organism. 
 The eye, countenance, form, and movement, are 
 mediums through which it shines out upon us. A 
 nobler race of minds would be entempled by a
 
 BEAUTY. 251 
 
 nobler race of bodies. These two corresponding 
 powers, soul and form, will, in the great plan of 
 things, advance or recede together. 
 
 Living between the 30th and 60th degree of north 
 ern latitude, where beauty personal claims Persia, 
 Greece, England, Holland, and the countries bor 
 dering upon Caucasus, it is not improper that a 
 remark be made on this branch of our theme, before 
 leaving it wholly. 
 
 We have the equilibrium of humanity in man and 
 woman ; a division and distinction this, founded 
 primarily in a diversity of spirit, and correspondingly 
 expressed in difference of organism. This would be 
 our philosophical basis, were this the place and time 
 for venturing out on the sea of speculation concern 
 ing the source and origin of sex. But this is not 
 demanded. A real, happy difference of spirit is the 
 grand difference ; which, having a basis in the im 
 mortal nature, must be of everlasting continuance. 
 If man's form is expressive of more power, the aver 
 age reason is that more power belongs to masculine 
 mind ; and, if woman has more grace, it is because 
 her spirit is more beautiful than his. 
 
 The waving line, so much celebrated by Hogarth 
 and others, abounds far more in woman than in man. 
 Her movements are more spontaneous, her intuitions 
 more perfect, and her manners more naturally grace 
 ful, than his. But beauty personal, in both sexes, is 
 valuable as a source of mutual interest, and as an 
 expression of the heart and mind. Climate, doubt 
 less, modifies every species of beauty ; but, were we 
 to suggest the true mode of improving the beauty of
 
 252 BEAUTY. 
 
 the race, we should, after naming some physical 
 conditions, suggest such cultivation and growth of 
 mind as will bring upon the countenance and man 
 ner the image of truth and magnanimity ; for what 
 ever passions and qualities have dominion in mind, 
 through some wonderful process, impress their like 
 ness on the material feature. Beautify the soul : 
 this Is the first law. And, through the material form, 
 this primal fact will shine as solar radiance through 
 transparent clouds. Poor is the idolatry of pretti- 
 ness. What is the Trojan Helen to Imogene and 
 Desdemona ? 
 
 Man abhors to behold his image in woman. She 
 also dislikes to see the reflection of herself from him, 
 and, with her instinctive wisdom, readily detects the 
 presence and absence of manly qualities. The great 
 master of the human heart recorded no miracle, we 
 think, in the means through which the divine Desde 
 mona was possessed by the ugly-featured Moor ; for 
 his mind was strongly marked by heroic, manly force. 
 Thus she speaks the true philosophy of the matter : 
 
 " That I did love the Moor to live with him, 
 My downright violence and storm of fortunes 
 May trumpet to the world ; my heart's subdued 
 Even to the very quality of my lord : 
 / saw Othello's visage in his mind ; 
 And to his honors, and his valiant parts, 
 Did I my soul and fortunes consecrate." 
 
 So far is Desdemona the voice of her sex. She is 
 only subdued by generous, manly qualities. 
 
 If the violet or its many sisters appeared conscious 
 of beauty, the pleasure of beholding would be at
 
 BEAUTY. 253 
 
 once repelled ; but unconsciousness meekly reposes 
 there. Nothing asks you, " Am I not beautiful ? " 
 Here is a lesson. May none, on whom nature has 
 lavished so rare a gift, omit to learn it ! 
 
 The Greek mind had power as well as elegance, 
 which proves that the passionate admiration of the 
 beautiful may combine with great energy and force ; 
 for, to them, beauty was only second to virtue. In 
 the elements of man's character, power and grace 
 should unite in similar proportion as they are blended 
 in the action and form of nature around us. The 
 earth is a concentration of silent, awful forces. But 
 it is also carpeted with verdure and flowers, and 
 bathed in the light of beautiful orbs. As Deity is 
 perfect and everlasting, it follows that beauty will 
 always mark the works of his power ; and, as the 
 soul is to lose none of its faculties by future change, 
 we may infer that its interest in this subject will con 
 tinue for ever. Also, from the universal diffusion 
 of this quality through all worlds, we may anticipate 
 a universal appreciative power in all ; and, from the 
 new interest the radiance of beauty gives us in the 
 universe, from its capacity to refine the soul, to de 
 velop its love, and from the elevated happiness it 
 imparts to mankind, we may be justified in the con 
 clusion, that the beautiful is no ordinary agency, 
 throughout the boundless empire of mind and space, 
 in the proper education of every moral intelligence. 
 
 God is the Infinite Beauty ; but nature is the prism 
 through which the rays pass into the division of end 
 less variety. 
 
 22
 
 254 
 
 RISING OF THOUGHT. 
 
 IN the soul's growth, a desire springs up to enjoy a 
 higher world than that of life's and nature's oft- 
 repeated facts. This aspiration is the proof of a gen 
 eral want, live where we may, go where we will. 
 Nor does our inventive age discover the means of sat 
 isfaction. It is one bright mark of the soul's gran 
 deur, that it rises above the surrounding circum 
 stance, that its visions are above the palace, and 
 that the present never finds it as having all. If we 
 would enjoy a higher world, the mind must create 
 it, and from the materials which already exist. Can 
 we not do this, each one for himself? Does not life 
 furnish ample material ? Is not the soul sufficiently 
 creative ? 
 
 To answer these questions rightly, two truths 
 need be staled : First, all things, having sprung 
 from thought, are necessarily revelations and sug 
 gestions of it in various forms. Nature addresses 
 the soul. Second, the mind is able to rise from thing 
 to thought, from fact to law, plan to purpose, and 
 from the symbolism to the symbolized. This power 
 to ascend is Heaven's gift of gold, the wings of the 
 spirit, without which all upward tendency would 
 cease. All genius has it, and it is probable that all
 
 RISING OF THOUGHT. 255 
 
 have that common genius necessary to find a world 
 of thought above the world of things. The coarse 
 worm yields us a beautiful fly ; the thorny bush, a 
 lovely flower. Why should not the coarse world 
 yield a higher sphere, since the transforming power 
 is in the soul that sees ? 
 
 Argument is scarcely needed to convince the 
 reader of the general existence of this ability. Who 
 does not imagine a greater mountain than Mont 
 Blanc ? Who, at times, does not sketch to himself un 
 consciously a more beautiful condition than the eye 
 has witnessed ? Often do we gather to hear the 
 great man ; and, when he is heard, we find that the 
 man of the imagination is far greater than the man 
 of the platform. We can imagine greater Niagaras 
 and greater Alps than we ever shall see. Yet the 
 imagination is not the reality ; nor could it thus step 
 beyond the real into a greater ideal, except it had 
 been aided and strengthened by it. Some minds of 
 the best gifts have been dissatisfied in the midst of 
 the earth's celebrated grandeurs. Whence this feel 
 ing, except from the fact that the soul is greater than 
 nature and art, and was formed .to rise above them ? 
 Life could never be painfully dull and plodding, but 
 for an abiding perception of what is more perfect 
 than the experience of to-day. 
 
 To aid the mind in bringing a new world out of 
 the old one, and yet in harmony with it, attention 
 should be given to the fact, that- all things of life and 
 nature are pervaded by the general law of similitude, 
 which makes each and every thing suggestive of 
 what is higher and greater than itself. Beneath this,
 
 256 RISING OF THOUGHT. 
 
 all life and being flow. From the many and inti 
 mate connections between the Creator's Mind and 
 the material world it has fashioned and governed, 
 from the same intimate connections between the 
 mind human arid its exhibitions in conduct and in 
 art, there is a constant and mutual reflection of light 
 between the worlds of matter and of mind, between 
 the soul that causes and the effects produced. Ana 
 logy is our bridge over the intervening abyss of 
 darkness ; walking which, we pass from material to 
 spiritual, from thing to thought, from nature to God. 
 It is our mediation between the seen and the unseen. 
 Il is our passage from the known to the unknown, 
 from the temporal to the eternal. Thus surrounded 
 by the universal and assisting influence of this law 
 of similitude between matter arid mind, and being 
 endowed with the power of forming ideas above 
 their suggestive causes, I would introduce for gen 
 eral contemplation a subject which might as well be 
 named the RISING OF THOUGHT, a topic of prac 
 tical importance certainly, since it calls us to a new 
 spiritual beauty and pleasure that spread over the 
 otherwise dull facts of life the halo of a divine inter 
 est, and which lay all things under a new and willing 
 tribute to the spiritual good of their rightful emperor, 
 the soul. 
 
 But we would have no war between the actual 
 and the ideal, no more, indeed, than there is between 
 the stars and the earth over which they watch. We 
 would relinquish nothing of nature, no, not a pebble 
 on the shore, not a sand of the desert. Each fact is 
 ours. For the present, we would not exchange
 
 RISING OF THOUGHT. 257 
 
 seats with angels ; we would not give them our 
 fruitful earth, our fountains, our daylight, and storms, 
 for their peaceful abodes. We would not exchange 
 our joys for theirs. We want our present life ; and 
 to us our sun and moon are better than the future 
 illumination, which needs not their presence. We 
 will cling to our real sources of joy. Let us, there 
 fore, gain a world of idea, that shall render more 
 interesting the world of facts and of things. 
 
 Going into nature, the highest truth it yields us is, 
 that every thing has a hand pointing to that which 
 is above itself. The acorn points to the oak ; the 
 oak emblems the firmness and dignity of man. The 
 infant points to man, and man points to God, whose 
 image he is. Springs point to rivers, rivers to seas ; 
 and these symbolize the Infinite, the vast deep of 
 Soul. God is the grand Original ; and man, having 
 immortal powers, is, in this kingdom of nature, an 
 original also, whilst all else is only representative. 
 Man is representative in his relation to Him. But 
 the whole universe appears to be representative in 
 its relation to both. All things unite to form a 
 boundless system of symbols, of representation, of 
 which each may be its own interpreter. It is true, that, 
 could we at first commence with God in our reason 
 ing, knowing him without the aids of representation, 
 we should see in him all we may know in nature ; 
 and, for the same cause, could we comprehend the 
 soul without the aid of its phenomena, we could dis 
 cover in it all that art and life display. For, in the 
 order of being, God is first and causative; and, in 
 the order of human development, the soul is first and 
 
 22*
 
 258 RISING OF THOUGHT. 
 
 causative, But, as we know God and the soul 
 through their phenomena, we must begin with these ; 
 we must ascend from visible to invisible, from nature 
 to its Creator, from the life that is to the soul that 
 makes it. 
 
 Youth is fond of symbols, Early in the world's 
 age did our race use this principle in the construction 
 of its language, finding in things the expression of 
 thoughts. We still image the invisible, We make 
 the fountain and the mild flowing river to speak of 
 the spontaneous gush of innocent and truthful feel 
 ing, of the calm flow of pure affections. The sun 
 gives us the idea of nature's benevolent sovereignty. 
 He governs in silence, making no display of author 
 ity, when holding the distant Herschel and Neptune 
 in his grasp. A genuine sovereignty is never an 
 nounced by trumpets. The revolving worlds, in their 
 radiant pathways, pause not to apprise the sister 
 planets that they obey. Because obedience is per 
 fect, nothing needs be said. These planets seem to 
 look down on this garrulous world, to admonish its 
 professions of virtue ; to apprise all, that, would they 
 rotate in the self-elected way of goodness, they may 
 safely leave to action and silence every particle of 
 merit they possess. All self-boasting excellences 
 are reproved by the silent and simple excellences of 
 the natural world. He who, reverently welcoming 
 the new day, beholds the sun as the type of In 
 finite Love, gets more than daylight from his face. 
 His thought kindles piety, and illumines being. He 
 derives a spiritual joy from a material orb. This 
 il monarch of the climes" gave out a higher influ-
 
 RISING OF THOUGHT. 259 
 
 ence when he awoke the worship of ancient heathen 
 dom, than when he ripens a plantation of rice or 
 cotton ; for the human heart, under whatever dark 
 ness it may lie, is worth infinitely more than earths 
 and oceans. The sunrise is a prophet, saying to the 
 world, " Awake to duty. Live, this day of God, as 
 men." It is suggestive of the full-orbed truth rising 
 on the night of a people sunk in ignorance, but 
 waking to reason and science. It is the image of 
 great souls. It is the symbol of love, of friendship ; 
 not of the blind impulse, but of love pervaded by 
 light. Sunset, too, tells us that the brightest days, 
 as likewise the darkest, must end. Is there not more 
 poetry in the gorgeous west, is there not more of 
 the beautiful, tinged with cheerful sadness, is there 
 not more of the spirit of reflection in the last red 
 glow, as he joyfully takes the hill and cloud into his 
 fiery baptism, than there is in the rising of this orb ? 
 Here many thoughts sparkle and burn. The death 
 of the saint and the sage, more glorious than their 
 birth, is here represented. The ultimatum of every 
 good race is better than its beginning. It is the radi 
 ance of friendship enriched by experience, the im 
 mortality leaving brightness on the track of night, 
 the glow of the soul's faith and hope when visited 
 and encompassed by sorrows, the image of the fact 
 that night is but shadow, that nothing is extinguished, 
 that what goes will come, that all sorts of nights are 
 extinguished by day. Did not Zoroaster exhibit ge 
 nius in making fire the emblem of God ? for He 
 enlivens the universe by wisdom and love, as the 
 symbol enlivens by light and heat.
 
 260 RISING OP THOUGHT. 
 
 The growth of language, as intimated, implies 
 this ascent of the race from facts and laws of matter 
 to the higher and analogous verities of mind ; for, 
 as knowledge begins with material things for their 
 objects, language, as the expression of that know 
 ledge, must at first have denoted nothing more than 
 the objects of sense, with the relations, qualities, ac 
 tion, passion, ends, and uses, which belong to them. 
 The external world framed the grammar or first 
 rudiments of all speech. Things or nouns in na 
 ture gave rise to nouns in speech ; nor could there 
 ever have been an active, passive, or neuter verb in 
 human discourse, except there had been in the world 
 of nature and of man an active agency, except there 
 had been within the scope of observation that which 
 acted, and that which received the action ; as also, 
 that which, neither active nor passive, is simply a 
 state of being. No prepositions could have shown the 
 relations of thing to thing, except as those relations 
 were ordained by Him who has adjusted the matter 
 of space, and by man who arranges the things with 
 which he has to do. There had been no by, with, or 
 through, had not the relations expressed by these 
 words existed in space ; and, since these relations 
 and facts belonging to the natural world are funda 
 mentally the same in different ages and countries, it 
 follows that language must everywhere reveal similar 
 laws. Hence, the many dialects and the one lan 
 guage of the earth. But, from the mental difference 
 of the nations and tribes to which the dialects be 
 long, it cannot be supposed, that nature or any class 
 of facts should strike them under exactly the same
 
 RISING OF THOUGHT. 261 
 
 aspects, and thereby produce the same emotions ; 
 for the genius of races differs as widely as that of 
 individuals ; whilst the expression of their thoughts, 
 to be true to their genius, requires a dialect for itself. 
 The aesthetic soul of the Greek could never have 
 been so well expressed in the language of the He 
 brew or the Roman. 
 
 Now, there is a fact in this matter of language as 
 common and as new in the experience of each man 
 and woman of the nineteenth century, as it was of 
 the most primitive age and race of men. I mean the 
 rising from the physical fact to the mental reality, of 
 which that fact is the sign. The word that named 
 a sensible thing, relation, or act, becomes the sign 
 for that which cannot be seen, or tested by the 
 senses. Thus do all the words that define the know 
 ledge of the outward world become the representa 
 tion of higher and analogous facts in the mental 
 domain. What, I ask, is our first learning ? Are the 
 first lessons of childhood about God as a spiritual 
 being, or about man as a mental being ? Certainly 
 not. The first knowledge consists of original im 
 pressions of external and sensible things. It is in 
 this period of originality, that the abstract ideas of 
 size, distance, motion, rest ; weight, color, height, 
 and depth ; light and darkness, heat and cold, hard 
 and soft, beauty and deformity ; indeed, all the 
 great fundamental impressions the material world 
 may give them, dawn upon the mind, and become 
 the stejpping-stone not only to future natural sciences, 
 but to a higher order of mental facts, which are 
 united to them by analogies too subtle to admit of
 
 262 RISING OF THOUGHT. 
 
 plain definition. No school-boy, perplexed with his 
 problem, could ever have pronounced it dark, or 
 asked for light understandingly, except he had first 
 learned the physical images, and saw them as signs 
 of ignorance and knowledge. Why should height 
 be ascribed to .great wisdom and virtue ? Certainly 
 there is no physical altitude to mind or character. 
 Why should the person indifferent in a particular 
 cause be spoken of as cold? Why should our ab 
 stract idea of depth, of wideness, and of narrowness, 
 be given to certain minds ? To answer a single 
 question of this nature is but to announce the great 
 law by which language has become expressive of 
 the world within and of the world without. This 
 duality in the departments and uses of human speech 
 indicates the higher purposes of the material world, 
 and announces the principle of analogy as being that 
 by which all material knowledge and impression 
 become the shadow of all that pertains to the soul. 
 
 This similitude is boundless, and but few of its 
 points are expressible. It must be seen, if at all, as 
 we see the shimmering of the air, or as we catch the 
 expression of silence from certain states of the air, 
 lowly murmuring in the autumn trees or on the quiet 
 of the distant sea. And yet the principle by Avhich 
 mankind weave these words of physical origin into 
 the expression of thought and feeling, operates so 
 easily, that it is to be doubted whether any are con 
 scious of reasoning on their fitness. Certainly more 
 gifted minds, and I should also think that ever}k order 
 of capacity, are in the habit of using not only the 
 words which by long usage have become exclusively
 
 RISING OF THOUGHT. 263 
 
 the words of thought, but those also whose first 
 meanings are evidently from the material world, un 
 consciously, as the signs and images of what the heart 
 would express. So readily, indeed, does the mind 
 yield to this law of similitude between the material 
 and the spiritual, that it is unconscious of its own 
 processes. 
 
 But what does this condition of language imply ? 
 Why is the material so representative of the mental ? 
 Why do the words of things become the words of 
 thoughts, which are not things, and which have no 
 one material property ? First, I have said, because 
 the material world, proceeding from the Divine Mind, 
 must represent it ; in doing which, it must also repre 
 sent the mind human, which is its son and image. 
 But I would add, that material nature, being designed 
 as the school of man, is formed to express in its ana 
 logies the whole mind ; so that the language which 
 is built upon it at once yields to a higher purpose, 
 at once comes up to the mind's service. But nature 
 without is not the only external source of man's ut 
 terance ; for man has a small world which he makes. 
 His arts must be named ; his modes of action must 
 be expressive. And as the immediate world which 
 man makes is necessarily in the image of man's 
 mind, whatever language may exist for its expres 
 sion must also contain the symbols of his spiritual 
 life. Hence, from every art we ascend to the artist. 
 Hence, the many words which at first were founded 
 on mere external manner, and on things of his crea 
 tion, that have since become the standing types of 
 his ideas. This theme might be followed to any
 
 264 RISING OF THOUGHT. 
 
 extent ; but I would here pause to say, that the very 
 origin of human language implies the transition 
 from matter to mind, on the law of analogy ; the 
 rising from things that are seen to those that are 
 unseen, the spiritual, and to which the materiality 
 of life and of the universe conspires. 
 
 But this principle may be widely applied in the 
 progress of man. He opens his eyes in childhood 
 on isolated facts. He sees as mere physical objects 
 the tree, hill, and fountain ; not perceiving the order 
 which unites the parts into a whole. He discovers 
 no universe. The sun is but a bright orb, the earth 
 is but land, the sea is but water. But, in this mere 
 perception of isolated facts, the growing mind cannot 
 long remain. Each thing suggests its connection 
 with others ; and gradually there dawns upon the un 
 derstanding the idea of a general order, a system. 
 Facts reveal laws above themselves, until it is dis 
 covered that the unity of a Divine wisdom rules the 
 varied phenomena around us. At first, in the glare 
 of the senses, no Divine presence is recognized in 
 nature ; but, from the body of the visible, the mind 
 ascends to this view, to the recognition of One 
 greater than earth and skies, and who shines be- 
 nignantly forth through all this visible world. Thus, 
 too, are we blind to the end of the material world, 
 so far as it tends to educate the intellect and the 
 moral feelings. God not only makes language for 
 men through the influence of the laws and relations 
 of the world with w r hich he has surrounded them, 
 but he invigorates the whole mind through the same 
 agency. Nature is full of science, of truth ; and
 
 RISING OF THOUGHT. 265 
 
 truth is the element of mental power. The imagi 
 nation wakes to life under the beauty that is spread 
 around us. Reason gathers might from the omni 
 present and perpetual connection of cause and effect. 
 Worship and conscience are addressed by the voices 
 of Divinity that are heard in this temple of the In 
 finite. The end of nature, though spiritual and 
 within ourselves, is but slowly observed, as thought 
 ascends to the Infinite Cause. 
 
 There is an immensity without. This wakes the 
 sense of infinitude within. The soul knows immen 
 sity, because it contains the very germ of the Mind 
 that fills it. Order reigns without. And does not 
 this order, which surrounds all, impress order on all ? 
 No soul can utter itself without symbols. Mountains 
 must stand for a sublime firmness ; storms and dark 
 ness must emblem the passionate rage, the vicious 
 aim, and the deep woe. Flowers, smiling in the 
 forest-shades and from the mountain's side, willingly 
 become the words of our affections. The quietude 
 of the landscape, the calm surface of deep waters, 
 the soft, cloudless skies, are words that express the 
 spirit-rest. Swedenborg said that the animal king 
 dom is representative of human affections. I ask, 
 what kingdom is not representative of man ? from 
 what does he not draw, in unfolding the various 
 action of his mind ? All are his tributaries. But 
 we know the symbols first ; then we ascend to the 
 thoughts for which they stand. Thus the hearer of 
 parables penetrated the imagery, until he found what 
 is greater, the truths intended. 
 
 There is no end to nature's symbolism. " The 
 
 23
 
 266 RISING OF THOUGHT. 
 
 lion is alone." The strong man has not lost his para 
 dise, though what is called society utterly forsake 
 him. The eagle wings his mighty way somewhat 
 solitarily, asking not the companionship of large num 
 bers. He knows his competency. Why should a 
 great mind seek shelter under societies ? What 
 storm should he fear who may rise above all storms ? 
 Rely on yourself awhile longer : when the tempest 
 descends, it shall aid your flight. The lamb and 
 dove are associative, are to us innocence and gentle 
 ness. But who would not rather be eagle than 
 dove ? 
 
 Water, it is said, is the symbol of truth. Its foun 
 tains, one might say, are more strictly original 
 minds, bursting forth clearly and freely. Truth is 
 as the waters, not only from its beauty, its purity, 
 and refreshing qualities, but from its depth, vastness 
 and eternity. 
 
 " Time writes no wrinkle on thine azure brow : 
 Such as creation's dawn beheld, thou rollest now ! " 
 
 How many theories of costly labor have sailed on 
 the fathomless deep of truth ! How many have per 
 ished among its breakers ! Your creeds and philo 
 sophies, built like mighty ships, wear but a time 
 among these merciless waves. Let them perish : 
 the sea is full, and better builders will come. The 
 soul, like its Author, " glasses itself in tempests." 
 There is not a darkness of heaven, a violence of 
 elements, a lightning-stroke of terror, which does not 
 fit some mood or state of man. His revolutions are 
 often as these. The sun is eclipsed : so, indeed, the
 
 RISING OF THOUGHT. 267 
 
 light within thee is darkness at times, and the great 
 est truths are hidden. 
 
 Our philosophies and theologies do not take nature 
 sufficiently as a model. One gathers and gives you 
 only the flowers of the universe. It is enough that 
 one is pleased, that life is pleasant ! " How beautiful 
 is this ! How nice and how pretty is that ! " And 
 here ends the seeking. But are our teachers only to 
 collect sunbeams, and to braid bouquets for ladies 
 and gentlemen to smell of, to admire ? Better far look 
 back to the well-poised agencies of the universe for 
 a lesson. What mean these vast and solemn moun 
 tains ; these huge and massive rocks ; these thun 
 der-voiced cataracts; these tumultuous seas; these 
 sweeping storms; these sombre hues; these thun 
 der-peals ? Is all nature a sunbeam, a bouquet ? 
 Who can bend one iota the inflexibility of natural 
 law ? All these graceful agencies have a fixed sov 
 ereignty, which they never let go. The universe will 
 do you little good, except you are recipient of its 
 various influences. The thunder of Edwards is 
 worth a million of many dove-like divines. If a 
 man will have nature for his symbol of character, 
 there will be power in him ; there will be rocks as 
 well as dahlias. 
 
 This day is new and whole. The life of this green 
 leaf is original, having never existed before. There 
 is no patching in any natural work. All is new and 
 entire. But our best works are fractions, not com 
 plete and rounded unities. The firmness of nature 
 is read in every natural law. But over this firmness 
 reposes a bending ease, a grace of beauty, which is
 
 268 RISING OF THOUGHT. 
 
 the true type of all genuine will in character. The 
 constellated worlds above us are a society of stars. 
 The social law is imaged in the heavens. Good 
 men are stars. They form society, though each 
 member is rightly distanced. A single truth attracts 
 other truths, till there is a constellation of truths. Is 
 not autumn, with its faded leaves and golden fruit, 
 in every man's experience ? Who knows not the 
 higher fact which " gentle spring," with the " ethereal 
 mildness," indicates ? Poisons are sweet in the moral 
 world, as truly as in the natural. The light the eye 
 receives so unconsciously, and which dances in the 
 diamond's heart, is as the Divine agency, entering 
 the spirit, and radiating every transparent character. 
 Every spiritual fact in the universe is dimly sha 
 dowed by what the senses know. 
 
 But let us proceed to speak of man in his life and 
 history. How dead his life is, when its facts are only 
 viewed as details ! How wonderful when contem 
 plated as the product of the emanating cause ! Na 
 ture points to him as to a greater, and he to God, who 
 is All. Each action in life points to character, there 
 by lifting a finger to that which is higher than itself. 
 So, indeed, do the words, plans, struggles of men 
 point to a higher wisdom than the actors knew. 
 Always have these conflicts tended to nobler ends 
 than men designed. Small things reveal a charac 
 ter, even a laugh, a word, a look. The apple, 
 through Newton's genius, pointed up to distant 
 worlds, and suggested the principle which guided 
 them in their course. Nothing is so local as not to 
 contain a universal. The thistle and the shell own 

 
 RISING OF THOUGHT. 269 
 
 the presence of universal law, as truly as do the 
 solar systems. 
 
 At first we began with the world's facts, very 
 much as -with those of material nature. We saw 
 them as isolated. To us there was no Providence, 
 as in nature there was no universe. Man died : a 
 kingdom fell. These appeared as without purpose 
 and meaning. Events were order less. But we gra 
 dually emerged from these single and isolated views 
 to discover that circumstances are a chain ; that they 
 fall into a system of cause and effect, as harmoni 
 ously as the various parts of the earth conspire to 
 form a globe. We saw justice wrought out in many 
 events. Wisdom gleamed out of what had seemed 
 as dark before. Good sprung up from evil before 
 our eyes. We saw fraud and justice working out 
 opposite results. We saw that evil was reaped where 
 evil was sown, and so of good. From the page of 
 history we learned that one stage of human life 
 prepared for another ; that God presides over this 
 world's changes ; and that the end of all this various 
 course of Providence, by which humanity is enlight 
 ened, encouraged, baffled, and checked, is like that 
 of the all-surrounding universe within ourselves. It 
 is the spiritual self-development at which all things 
 aim. But this view comes not at first. We climbed 
 to it, step by step, beginning in the systemless facts 
 of our observation, and rising gradually to the vast 
 idea of God over all. This suggestion of what is 
 greater than itself, in the present instance, though 
 not apparently founded on analogy, illustrates the 
 
 23*
 
 270 RISING OF THOUGHT. 
 
 tendency of the facts of observation to unfold the 
 great principles whicK govern them. 
 
 Our first self- consciousness discloses us to our 
 selves as merely animal beings. We conceived of 
 our kind as living bodies, before we thought of them 
 as living souls. Physiognomy reveals what is great 
 er, the mind, the character. What was the first 
 idea of power that dawned upon us ? Was it the 
 power that philosophers, poets, and prophets, wield ? 
 No : it was mere muscular force, mere material 
 energy. This we first knew as our own possession, 
 as the attribute of strength in others. But from this 
 coarser fact, we rose to the perception of the power 
 of mind, of wisdom, courage, virtue. Why ma 
 terial energy should necessarily go before the percep 
 tion of meatal, it is needless to inquire ; but nothing 
 is more certain than the fact ; and few things are 
 more probable than that the influence of the various 
 material energies displayed in nature around us 
 serve to call out the inward energies of the soul. 
 Life, in each and all of its forms, is mystery. Our 
 first notion of it is as animal and vegetable ; but the 
 beautiful and animating mystery is not alone. It 
 becomes the symbolic shadow of spiritual life ; whilst 
 all its fostering influences are types of higher agencies 
 by which the life of the spirit grows. Slowly do 
 we learn that the sacred urns contain only the clay 
 tenements of departed friends, and nothing of their 
 real selves. At first we view mankind as animals ; 
 we view them as we did the outward world, without 
 perceiving the wonderful order there organically dis 
 played, without viewing the fleshly structures as the
 
 RISING OF THOUGHT, 271 
 
 Servants and temples of immortal natures. But such 
 is the order of life's lessons, that the race, finding a 
 spiritual development higher than the muscular, be 
 comes conscious of the soul's supremacy. 
 
 I have often used the word spirit in the course of 
 these remarks, as meaning the mind, the immortal, 
 unseen part. But the history of this word embodies 
 the view I have been trying to unfold, that the whole 
 structure of things, the entire genius of the condition 
 of man, tends to lead him upward, from less to 
 greater, from fact to principle, from thing to thought. 
 The original meaning of this term is, the air we 
 breathe. Pneuma primarily meant only this. How 
 naturally this became the symbol of mind, being an 
 invisible element, an inspiration of life, a free and 
 unconfined agent ! But we have finally rested on 
 the greater ; so that the spirit is always our diviner 
 part. Paradise was once but a fine garden of Persia ; 
 now it is the joy of the sainted. Rectitude at first 
 was only physical straightness ; now it is morai hon 
 esty. Beauty at first was but a sensuous charm ; 
 now it is mind perfected : it is a heart-radiance from 
 conduct and speech. Always has man been rising 
 slowly above the despotism of matter. 
 
 Religious revelations to our race unfold the same 
 view. The moment we attempt to analyze our views, 
 we are carried back to their physical bases, and are 
 obliged to learn, that the primary development of 
 the soul, under the impressions of material nature, 
 has prepared in us our whole receptive capacity for 
 what God communicates. What, I ask, was our pri 
 mary idea of heaven ? Was it not the caelum, the
 
 272 RISING OF THOUGHT. 
 
 ouranos of our physical vision, the clear, calm, 
 blue skies above us? Whence came our abstract 
 view of purity and purification ? They doubtless 
 referred to external cleanliness and ablution. The 
 same may be said of all our highest views. Indeed, 
 revelations are impossible, except on the ground here 
 assumed. How am I to conceive of infinity as be 
 longing to God, unless the Illimitable impresses me 
 from nature ? How am I to know Divine Love, 
 except I have affection in my own heart, by which to 
 know it ? And was not this primary love called 
 forth by many external relations, influences, and 
 objects ? As well might you exhort the rocks to fly, 
 as humanity to ascend to the comprehension of these 
 high realities, without the preparatory aid of natural 
 things. Nature must lend her symbols and her early 
 teachings, or God himself cannot speak to the race. 
 That which is unknown can only reach us through 
 that which is known ; nor can any power break over 
 the permanence and eternity of this law. 
 
 Go for a moment into the past. There you meet 
 different forms and dispensations of religion, con 
 vincing you that the earlier the worship, the more 
 of visible imagery does it wear. The senses are 
 addressed. The material glares upon you. Altars, 
 victims, and priests, mercy-seats and cherubims, 
 divers washings and external atonements in abund 
 ance, greet you. The gold of the temple is sacred. 
 Deity is portrayed under the strongest imagery, and 
 worshipped under the view chiefly of his Almighti- 
 ness. But as you watch the stream of sacred know 
 ledge, as it flows down to later times, you discover
 
 RISING OF THOUGHT. 
 
 that a spiritual element gets the great ascendency. 
 The Bible, which began in history, ended in the 
 finer element of prophecy. The sacrifice became 
 finally a broken heart and a contrite spirit, not a 
 bleeding victim. Behold the contrast ! The Thun 
 derer and Judge of ancient time is clothed with the 
 name and attributes of the Father, is Love, is 
 Goodness ! Compare the Beatitudes of the Sermon 
 on the Mount with the temporal rewards and pun 
 ishments of the Jewish hope and fear. Once the 
 kingdom of heaven was as Caesar's dominion in tem 
 porality and earthliness ; now it is righteousness and 
 peace enthroned in all. Israel was once a union of 
 distinctive tribes ; now he is all who love God on 
 the face of the whole earth. Jerusalem once was 
 but the metropolis of Judea ; now she is the church 
 of the First-born, whose citizens are all the good 
 and the faithful. The great Adam was once but a 
 " living soul ; " now he is the " quickening spirit," * 
 the great moral regenerator, the love-kindling energy 
 of the whole earth. Moses enacted and legislated ; 
 Jesus spake words of spirit and life to ages. Sacri 
 fices no more bleed in the hands of the priest ; but 
 all are priests, and all are invited to make themselves 
 a holy offering to God, to Deity. Neighbor and 
 brother once signified those who were of the same 
 tribe and family, those who were by affinity near in 
 place, and in consanguineous ties ; now the race are 
 neighbors and brothers. Salvation was once an 
 outward, whilst now it is an inward deliverance. 
 
 * 1 Cor. xv. 45.
 
 274 RISING OF THOUGHT. 
 
 Truly were the old ways but types and shadows, 
 mere similitudes of the greater and the better in 
 advance ! 
 
 Indeed, all things are as in this Jewish ritual. 
 The human heart is always predicting a better day. 
 Far away in some good to-morrow waits the perfect 
 lot. It always says, " There is a better ; I wait a 
 brighter morning." The best hours ever enjoyed 
 prophesied still better. Perhaps each man living is 
 conscious of a latent trust that he shall be much 
 more of a man by and by than he is now. Our 
 small truths are always leading to greater truths. 
 Our incipient vices and virtues are ever leading to 
 those greater. Goodness, though imperfect now, 
 bravely predicts its heaven. Great men never think 
 that human nature has invested all its might in them, 
 but earnestly believe in wiser and abler ones to come. 
 From the heart of the life that now is springs up the 
 desire and assurance of a greater. This natural 
 world points to a spiritual world. Nature bows in 
 homage to man, reproducing her skill in his mind ; 
 whilst man, in his nature, dependence, and hope, 
 points to Him who is above all and in all. When 
 ever we follow the known to its utmost extent, it 
 leads us to the verge of the unknown, where vast 
 shadowing mysteries darken all before us. What 
 are our best ideas ? Are they so good that they will 
 never give place to better ? Has there been no 
 progress ? Did King David understand diplomacy 
 better than Lord Brougham? Was the ship that 
 carried the apostle to Melita a better ship than the 
 " Oregon" or the " Pennsylvania ? "
 
 RISING OF THOUGHT. 275 
 
 There are beautiful mythologies that yield higher 
 views than their framers intended. Those gods and 
 goddesses of Greece, the deified men and women of 
 that country, suggest the actual glorification that 
 awaits virtue. History is letter and spirit. There is 
 great use for facts and dates ; but who knows Rome, 
 Greece, and England, without penetrating into the 
 genius, spirit, and character of each ? 
 
 It is high time that the old quarrel between mate 
 rialism and spiritualism was ended. There is truth in 
 each philosophy : there is a materialism and a spirit 
 ualism that harmonize as soul and body in one man, 
 as God and nature in one universe. God is a spirit ; 
 but he is present in all matter, and there is no antag 
 onism between the two. The assertion that soul is 
 but matter, or the result of its organization, has never 
 taken a lasting hold on any great number, because it 
 is opposed by what is deeper than argument in their 
 own consciousness. No teacher standing on such a 
 basis has left any very deep traces in the science of 
 intellect, ethics, and religion. On the other hand, 
 those spiritualists who would, in their ethereal revels, 
 forget that men have bodies, are as unsatisfactory as 
 the most plodding of the materialists. The saint 
 erred who said, " How I despise the earth, when I 
 think of heaven ! " For both earth and heaven are 
 of One, and harmonize as parts of a complete bene 
 volence. 
 
 The materialism of man and nature is both moral 
 and intellectual. We have seen how it contributes 
 to create language, to furnish mind with vehicles of 
 thought, to symbolize the various moods, actions, and
 
 276 RISING OF THOUGHT. 
 
 wants. To us it seems that every fibre of matter is 
 exerted in serving mind. The whole system is so 
 woven that it silently labors to this end. Everywhere 
 is the material world a spiritual ministry. So infi 
 nite, so complex, are the laws, forms, facts, and 
 agencies in space, that they are representatively 
 equal to all the soul contains, and therefore fitted to 
 render it a great service. I would deny material 
 ism only when assumed as the basis and master of 
 psychology : as servant to the spiritual, there is a 
 high place for it to occupy. As minds should gov 
 ern bodies, as God governs matter, and as the sky 
 of stars and ether over-arch the earth, so should a 
 spiritual philosophy hold dominion over the neces 
 sary materialism of human nature, and of the life 
 we live. If we deny that the mind is the first fact, 
 we slay ourselves ; for it is mind that makes the 
 denial, and that rules the materialism of being. Mind 
 rules the universe, and it governs man. 
 
 It brings more wealth to us to find nature alive 
 with thought, and full of teaching. It is good to rise 
 heavenward, when God gives us wings. Great mys 
 tery doubtless presses on the final end. But to me 
 this great world of facts seems as an infinite number 
 of guide-boards, telling the meditative pilgrim that 
 the cities of his seeking are still miles ahead. Do 
 these myriad fingers beckon us on to nothing ? Nay ; 
 not one deceives.
 
 277 
 
 THE INFINITE HARMONY. 
 
 " God is one." ST. PAUL. 
 " Nature is an infinitely divided God." SCHILLER. 
 
 IN the idea of Divine Harmony, I would include all 
 things ; for all things in some way unfold it. There 
 are moments in which all time, life, and nature seem 
 as one anthem, whose unwritten music the heart 
 would sing. We rise at times into the universal 
 concord, and feel the unity of all our powers, of 
 God, and of all his ways. A sense of this harmony 
 pervades every deep and serene joy. All revelations 
 of happiness within us, all the divine aspiration and 
 prospect of man, are its utterance. Every painful 
 sensation, growing out of the relative unfitness of 
 things, attests its inward supremacy ; but for which 
 no discords could ever offend us. Even in sorrow's 
 plaintive voice, this sense is beautifully eloquent. I 
 look upon this sense, so divine in its origin and so 
 universal in its influence, as one of nature's grandest 
 prophecies of future good, as one of its clearest 
 indications that life is tending to an ultimatum, to 
 which the present harmony of soul and nature is but 
 the becoming prelude. I would therefore seek to 
 24
 
 THE INFINITE HARMONY. 
 
 develop this idea, and place it before you through 
 its various manifestations. 
 
 There must be a science to this theme : there are 
 unchanging, eternal principles on which it rests. 
 To these let us give some thought, since they aid 
 us as premises for future conclusions. 
 
 The first idea in this science is necessarily the in 
 nate harmony of mind, but for which nothing within 
 the range of the harmonious could ever be known. 
 Education is but development, and development 
 implies the previous being of that which is devel 
 oped. Both body and mind have their particular 
 order of powers, each undeveloped at first ; and, as 
 the refined organism is an harmonious arrangement 
 of the physical powers, so is the constitution of mind 
 a harmony of undeveloped faculties. Why does the 
 song delight the untaught spirit of the child ? Be 
 cause the harmony of sounds sinks down into its 
 harmony of powers. The soul is a harmony of 
 powers, though, in consequence of its imperfect and 
 partial development, that harmony is not manifested 
 'in perfect beauty; though it is proper to admit, 
 that by nature we widely differ in our capacity to 
 perceive and feel the accordant as revealed in all 
 ihings around us. There are some noble natures 
 who seem, more than others, to be born of that 
 Spirit which works all things into accordant relations, 
 which so created worlds as to make the universe a 
 hymn and a praise. The harmony of the Divine 
 Mind is native and eternal. Man and the universe 
 are its manifestations. The harmony of the soul 
 human is native, but eternal only in reference to the
 
 THE INFINITE HARMONY. 279 
 
 future. The position assumed in relation to the soul 
 is invulnerable, so long as education is not creation, 
 which it never can become. 
 
 The science of the universal harmony I have 
 found in the soul. Here are all its elements. No 
 thing new can be added from abroad. But, to bring 
 out this, we must look to the developing means, 
 among which, we may say, this whole visible world, 
 from first to last, subserves this end. What do all 
 perceive when the senses open to this outward 
 world ? Universally they are impressed by an all- 
 surrounding harmony. All nature is harmony, being 
 pervaded by the One Perfect Mind, in which discords 
 are impossible. What are cause and effect, which 
 bind together all things into system, but harmony ? 
 Are they not uniform, various, and constant ? In 
 nature there is an omnipresence of order and of law. 
 But what is order, and what is law, but the expression 
 of the universal harmony of things ? What else is 
 beauty, as it comes in the dawn of day, in the glow 
 of sunset, in the human form, in the flower-bearing 
 earth, and the star-glowing skies ? All things are its 
 ministers ; all the laws and agencies of nature, work 
 ing in concord, enliven the native sense within us. The 
 myriad-voices of variously-gifted birds and insects, in 
 whose anthem there are no discords, and, above 
 all, the music-eloquence of human voices, bring out, 
 expand, refine, and invigorate the natural conscious 
 ness of harmony. Truth and love are accordant 
 sentiments. These are wrought into all things : 
 they live, they shine, in the particle as in the world. 
 Two ideas, therefore, give us the philosophy of the
 
 280 THE INFINITE HARMONY. 
 
 harmonious in man : first, the natural harmony of 
 the soul ; and, second, the harmony of the outward 
 universe, which sheds its perpetual influence on 
 mind. In other words, the harmony of the Divine 
 Mind is embodied in nature, and gives its influence ; 
 and the soul, being formed after the divine likeness, 
 has in its powers a measure of that harmony whence 
 nature sprung, and is thereby adapted to receive its 
 aid. 
 
 By harmony, of course, I mean not the limited 
 ability to give out the music of sounds ; I use it in 
 the widest possible sense, taking, if you please, the 
 richest strains of vocal music which wake the heaven 
 of concord in the human breast, as the symbol of 
 the soul's unfolding ability to hear and enjoy the 
 infinite song of God, Nature, Providence, and Hu 
 manity, as the ceaseless ages turn off its sacred 
 music for us. My idea is the universal concord 
 which all things, in different ways, are yielding. 
 
 I would now more definitely and particularly 
 revert to nature, whose laws never clash, but operate 
 in unbroken union for ever. Spoken of as a whole, 
 it is a harmony of particles, which are appropriately 
 kept in friendly union by the universal power of 
 attraction. But this power is not alone. If it were, 
 it would draw all substances into one common mass, 
 and thus destroy the identity of all things. Against 
 this result there is grand provision in that law by 
 which attraction itself between different bodies be 
 comes repulsion. Thus the sun draws the earth 
 some three millions of miles nearer to himself at 
 one time than it is at other times; yet there is a
 
 THE INFINITE HARMONY. 
 
 point when the same power which has attracted, also 
 repels, thus preserving the harmony of worlds. The 
 timid have feared the return of comets, lest some 
 clashing against our earth spoil us of its fair face and 
 treasures. All such fears are founded in an ignorance 
 of this one conservative power in nature, that dis 
 creet repulsion, at certain points of union, which 
 shall for ever preserve the safety of all planets, how 
 ever often they approximate through the social 
 energy of attractive force. The planets and the 
 comets are like the true nobles of the earth in this, 
 that, while the social power draws near, it repels 
 when nearness is too near : thus a becoming dignity 
 is preserved. One force would carry the world 
 straightforward in the heavens, whilst another ar 
 rests that onwardness ; so that, by the antagonism 
 of the two, the orbit is produced. Thus the princi 
 ples of harmony are everywhere sown. The rose, 
 the thistle, and the thorn will be themselves. Each 
 takes from nature what it wants, and returns it again 
 in due time. True, the sea roars, the whirlwinds 
 play in terrible sport, the lightnings flash in angry 
 violence, blowing great trumpets in the skies : these 
 are but certain thrilling notes, perhaps a lively chorus 
 in the vast concord. Nature is a harp, not of a 
 thousand, but of ten limes ten thousand strings, not 
 one of which can be struck, without yielding har 
 mony. The discords are in our ears, not in nature. 
 The great soul feels the harmony of all things, of 
 mountains, deserts, cataracts, whirlwinds, and mael 
 stroms, as well as of the plain, the meadow, the 
 violet, and calm-flowing fountain. 
 
 24*
 
 THE INFINITE HARMONY. 
 
 But let us come to our individual lives; let us 
 penetrate our own experience. We often speak of 
 the folly of past days, and we speak well : we wisely 
 mourn the misspent hours, and weep over the sins 
 which have betrayed us. This is right: the sane 
 should weep over all follies and sins. Yet I call it 
 harmony when I see the past yielding its legitimate 
 fruit ; it is harmony that an acorn should grow an 
 oak, that a crab-apple seed should produce a crab- 
 apple tree. It would be fundamental discord to 
 gather grapes from thorns, or figs from thistles. In 
 the past, the seeds of sentiment and conduct were 
 sown ; and each of us, this hour, is the harvest, the 
 true, legitimate harvest, of that past. Every thought 
 and action has had its tendency ; and all these par 
 ticulars unite to form our present selves, as harmoni 
 cally as the infinitude of particles unite to form a 
 world. There is nothing so random as not to come 
 in. Can we not see in the influences of infancy, 
 childhood, youth, and the mature man, the same 
 accordant relation as we find in spring, summer, 
 autumn, and winter ? That which unites the several 
 stages of life is as inviolably law as that which con 
 nects the ever-revolving seasons. Retribution is 
 perfect, speaking truth and right through all the 
 windings of human destiny, proving again and again 
 that wrongs and follies are duly avenged. " What 
 soever a man soweth, that shall he also reap." This, 
 through all worlds, is the true retributive law ; and 
 this is harmony, even when its agencies are most 
 terrific. 
 
 Passing from our personal experience, which holds
 
 THE INFINITE HARMONY. 
 
 283 
 
 all the elements in a limited sphere which enter into 
 the world's history, let us glance at the harmony of 
 the ages. The world has long existed, and each 
 epoch has had its proper place. No age of the 
 world has, in its influence and meaning, been iso 
 lated from the rest, any more than spring is isolated 
 from summer, or the island from the system of nature 
 to which it belongs. The ages are a brotherhood 
 of influence, as the worlds are a brotherhood of 
 nature. Contemplating history as the development 
 of man, this induction is inevitable, since man is 
 progressive, and in some way always subject to law, 
 from which he cannot abrogate himself if he would. 
 Viewing the past as a manifestation of the Divine 
 wisdom and goodness, so far as it reveals the active 
 presence of God, the same conclusion follows ; since 
 God always works to order, since there is connec 
 tion in all his ways, and since he aims to carry 
 forward his work towards perfection. What is more 
 apparent than that the three great epochs of human 
 civilization are harmoniously united ; that is to say, 
 that the East, which nursed the arts, is united to 
 Greece and Rome as closely as childhood to youth, 
 and these as intimately united to the modern civili 
 zation as youth to manhood ? What are our best 
 religious ideas ? What our happiest architecture and 
 our best jurisprudence ? Could we have grasped 
 the perfection we now command in these depart 
 ments, if Rome, Greece, and India had not gone 
 before us ? Could they have gained what they did, 
 without the stepping-stone of previous times on which 
 to stand. It is evident that they could not.
 
 284 THE INFINITE HARMONY. 
 
 It is true, my friends, we discover great errors, 
 and, what is worse, great wrongs, in the past. War, 
 slavery, superstition, lust, and blood stain its page ; 
 yet I hold it harmony, when I see its rightful retri 
 butions wrought out ; the corrupt monarch fallen ; 
 the iniquitous nation scourged ; that which was the 
 truer for the day gaining its conquest ; cause and 
 effect playing their part in the drama of ages, as 
 fairly and as truly as in the formation of soils or the 
 vegetations of nature. The destinies of nations have 
 been wrought by a logical hand ; for, though men 
 freely throw in their conduct as premises, that which 
 is higher than their designings draws out the con 
 clusions, and never falsely. Even the waves of the 
 sea pass on in order ; nor are the waves of time, 
 however dark and mountainous, without it. They 
 lash the shores and dash upon the rock with the same 
 wild beauty, and send forth their voices into present 
 time, waking still the harmony of souls. Despise 
 not the past, for it is omnipresent ; it is all around us 
 in its fruits and influences ; only be not bound by it ; 
 shake off its errors ; and, by the illumination of its 
 truths, go on to future good ; for the true aim of 
 the past is not to check but to impel our progress. 
 Providence is One, as God is One. It is carried on 
 through unvarying laws ; and, to him who could 
 pierce its cloudy veils, its harmonies would appear 
 as real as those of the voiceless orbs that journey 
 round the untiring sun. 
 
 God is Infinite Harmony. It follows, therefore, 
 that all his creations and productions are accordant. 
 The voices of Nature, Providence, and Christianity
 
 THE INFINITE HARMONY. 285 
 
 must accord, or their source is not the same. No 
 one truth can contradict another. No man befriends 
 Christianity by introducing discords between nature 
 and Christ. Power of faith, like power everywhere, 
 is promoted by union of parts. We want the united 
 strength of all truth, and then we stand upon the 
 Rock of ages. We should seek to harmonize our 
 views. This is a demand of reason, a want of the 
 soul. 
 
 Jesus stood in the centre of this harmony. He 
 felt the unity of God and of all his works. He was 
 the grand harmonizer of men. He laid all things 
 under tribute to his thought. His words were full 
 of the spirit that breathes the fraternity of the 
 race. Nature reveals its Author, without construct 
 ing a theory of his attributes. Jesus reveals him in 
 the same free and majestic manner. He urges upon 
 you no speculative creed. You walk among his 
 thoughts as among mountains and fields, never con 
 scious of intellectual bondage. He spake from in 
 ward freedom and truth ; and hence his words shall 
 live the immortality which belongs to the beauty and 
 inspirations of divinest Truth and Love. Jesus re 
 vealed the universal love of God, his goodness to 
 all men. How happily does nature sanction this 
 truth by the adaptation of her skies, earth, light, and 
 various gifts to the wants of all the race ! Nothing 
 but a universal love could have anticipated universal 
 wants. Jesus gave new revelation to the worth and 
 dignity of man ; he impressed the world anew with 
 the grandeur of his spiritual being, its vast hopes 
 and prospects. How divine the sanctions of nature
 
 286 
 
 THE INFINITE HARMONY. 
 
 to these teachings ! For she owns man, that is, the 
 development of all his powers, as her chief end, to 
 which all her law, order, and truth do constantly 
 minister. Nature teaches man that her wealth ends 
 not with his vision ; that it is measureless as the in 
 finite space ; and the spontaneous rising of the hope 
 immortal in the human breast, in all tribes and under 
 all skies, is one for ever with the voice of Jesus. 
 Perhaps the great characteristic of this Teacher is 
 naturalness. He wanted nothing but the reality. 
 He despised the web-work of profession so nicely 
 wrought by the Pharisee ; he could not endure the 
 untrue appearances of men around him. The sin 
 ner, however dark his crimes, found in him the near 
 friend, so long as he stood out in his real character, 
 so long as he did not cover over his sinfulness with 
 hypocrisy. I repeat it, reality was what he asked, 
 and what he gave. I need not here pause to ex 
 hibit the likeness between Jesus and nature ; for 
 what else but reality does nature give you ? Does 
 not every flower breathe its own real fragrance ? 
 does not every tree bear its own leaves and blos 
 soms ? does not every bird sing the song that is true 
 to itself ? does not every star, Venus and Pleiades, 
 shine in its own true sphere ? All here is reality. 
 Simplicity and majesty unite in the rising sun, and 
 in the glow of the evening skies. Do they not also 
 unite in the mind and character of Jesus ? The 
 soul of man is itself the highest nature. In it is 
 the summary of all spiritual laws. It is from God 
 more nearly than the sun and moon are from God, 
 since the soul is an offspring, and therefore of kin-
 
 THE INFINITE HARMONY. 287 
 
 dred powers with the Paternal Fountain. Its facts 
 and laws, therefore, are the highest facts and laws 
 of nature, with which all the voices of God do and 
 must accord. The more sinless the soul is, the more 
 clear and perfect is its consciousness of God, of jus 
 tice, and of immortal life : but, as it is, the darkness 
 of sin cannot efface it wholly ; sophistry and the 
 passions cannot utterly suppress it ; and the voice of 
 God, at times, is made to resound in all souls. The 
 sympathy of Jesus embraces all, as God in nature 
 surrounds all in love. I therefore ask you to behold 
 and enjoy the entire range of harmony which unites 
 the highest divine revelations with the natural world, 
 the inward constitution of man, and the general 
 course of the Divine Providence ; for they are of 
 One, and are One. Man is the end of Nature, 
 Providence, and Christianity ; and is it not harmony, 
 when a grand variety of means truly operate and 
 conspire to one sublime and perfect end ? 
 
 Thus far I have dwelt on the necessary harmony 
 of life and things, on that which does and will exist 
 independent of human designings. But I invite at 
 tention to the grand harmony to which we may all 
 aspire, and which, in real practical importance, casts 
 all things else into the shade. I mean the voluntary 
 harmony of character ; for it is plain that we have 
 the power of self-formation, if we will but use it. To 
 stand in true harmony with God, to be one with all 
 Right and Truth, is the great attainment, it is the 
 end of life. I have alluded to an harmonious uni 
 verse, which surrounds us all. In this there is a 
 perfect balance. And why may we not aspire to an
 
 288 THE INFINITE HARMONY. 
 
 harmonious character, to a true proportion and just 
 balance of all th$=attributes which ennoble humanity ? 
 Surely the germ of all these attributes is sown upon 
 its soil. Indeed, to be in physical character in har 
 mony with the great whole is 110 small aim ; for this 
 requires the equal manifestation of the powers of the 
 physical man, the knowledge of the laws of health, 
 the right amount of exercise and rest, the wholesome 
 air for respiration, the need of light and proper 
 warmth, and in food and drink that which accords 
 with the constitution of man ; I say this is much ; 
 for health is the true perfection of the physical man, 
 the true harmony of its powers. He who develops 
 only a part of his organization, he who brings on 
 disease by sinning against these laws, is not in har 
 mony with God, so far as these laws are concerned : 
 he arrays himself against him, whether he knows it 
 or not. 
 
 But the idea I would hold forth is the harmony 
 of the soul, the complete development of all its 
 powers. There is no higher idea of human perfec 
 tion than this, no higher view of spiritual beauty. 
 Jesus owes his supreme loveliness to this fact. The 
 true proportion of parts is as much a law of spirit 
 ual as of natural beauty. The intellectual powers 
 should harmonize. The whole vigor should not 
 grow up into imagination, as when nothing is read 
 but poetry and novels, as when nothing is cared 
 for but the ideal. Nor should the rational poAver 
 take up the whole intellectual nutrition : the explor 
 ing of causes, the discovery of great truths in simple 
 facts, is the grand power by which knowledge and
 
 THE INFINITE HARMONY. 289 
 
 philosophy increase. But in the intellectual harmony 
 there is imagination and reason united ; there is per 
 ception and reflection combined, as on the earth 
 there is the fruitful field and the landscape of beau 
 ties ; as the trees are not all roots and trunks, but 
 waving branches, delicate leaves, and beautiful 
 blossoms also. The means of this harmony sur 
 round all, and would though all books were 
 burned ; for everywhere nature addresses the im 
 agination in a thousand forms of beauty ; likewise 
 all facts and phenomena challenge us to learn the 
 cause. But man is more than intellect. He has 
 moral feelings and sentiments. And in the truly 
 proportioned character these predominate. Moral 
 right is the mild sovereign of the soul, to which all 
 passions bow. Love, in such a one, is expanded, 
 though its purest energy concentrates in most power 
 on a few, on children and friends ; yet, through 
 this love, which brings to the heart its true objects, 
 all things appear more true, more divine, than before. 
 Thus through the near we reach the distant. He 
 who loves one person as he should, is able to love 
 mankind ; for the race is but the varied forms of the 
 same humanity we revere in the individual. There 
 is a balance of virtues in the harmonious character, 
 as there is a balance of forces in the sun and his 
 family of revolving worlds. 
 
 The character I have before me is not all mildness, 
 nor all will and boldness ; he has will when will is 
 needed, and submission when that is required; he 
 has energy for what ought to be done, discrimination 
 to his sympathy, reason to his philanthropy, justice 
 25
 
 THE INFINITE HARMONY. 
 
 to all men ; the deep reverence and supreme love of 
 God, in union with the just reverence and love 
 of man. He makes it the aim of life to illuminate 
 his own mind, and to purify his heart, which he would 
 make the garden, not of one, but of all the virtues. 
 
 Opposed to this is the one ideaism which sects 
 and individuals so strongly represent. The man of 
 one idea has not intellectual harmony, any more, in 
 deed, than the man of one virtue has moral concord. 
 He in whom the whole strength of mind shoots up 
 into one idea or into one virtue, be that abolitionism, 
 peaceism, or temperanceism, he is distorted ; he is 
 all arm, all leg, or all mouth ; he is not the man of 
 harmony, in whom the true balance of all the virtues 
 meet and blend as harmoniously as the colors of the 
 rainbow. 
 
 He who lays this harmony in himself can enjoy 
 all other harmonies : life, death, the past, the present, 
 God, and nature, all yield him melody. More than 
 this, he finds harmony with others ; since he loves 
 all, and is just to all. Selfishness, the great father 
 of discords, is not his father. Say not that this is 
 unattainable; for where is there a virtue on earth 
 which each may not cultivate in some degree ? This 
 is no transcendental dream. Confucius, five cen 
 turies before our era, gave it under his view of the 
 Constant Medium, to which, he said, the wise and 
 the good might attain. 
 
 Society is doubtless in a conflicting state, although 
 the harmony of justice is wrought out in all its great 
 and mighty changes. That it will never more per 
 fectly unite, we cannot think ; for the nature is social,
 
 THE INFINITE HARMONY. 
 
 and the aims of mankind are mostly for good. Di 
 versity of talent and of fortune, like the mountains 
 and plains of the earth, do not break the general 
 good ; but the formative power of circumstance is 
 not so applied as to make each as intelligent, virtu 
 ous, and happy as he might become. Society simply 
 displays the aggregate condition of mind to which 
 man has come ; and certainly the phenomena of the 
 general mind cannot go beyond the mind it displays. 
 But that the great idea of human brotherhood, writ 
 ten by sunbeams in nature, and uttered by heaven's 
 eloquence in Christ, will be more and more actual 
 ized by man, I cannot doubt : the doubt is infidelity 
 to God and man. One great harmony of the uni 
 verse is the unity of the human race ; a fact this 
 which does not need either the affirmation or the 
 denial, that the race sprung from two original pa 
 rents : it is enough that the Paternal Cause is One, 
 let that cause operate as variously as it will. God is 
 the Paternal Fountain of all, else all could not wor 
 ship, else all could not exhibit love and reverence for 
 him. Universal history unfolds to us but one human 
 ity, whose variety is no greater than the perfection 
 of the unity requires. In the future, therefore, an 
 Eden smiles ; the ages predict it ; the mighty heart 
 of the race beats in unison to this thought. Hence, 
 all nations look onward for deliverers and deliver 
 ances. Once bring the general mind up to that of 
 Jesus, once make its character radiant with his truth 
 and his beautiful love, and then the harmonies will 
 flow down into government, into social relations, 
 into all human effort.
 
 292 THE INFINITE HARMONY. 
 
 But I would follow the principle which operates 
 to the production of concord and unity into its widest 
 range ; I would examine its influence on the future 
 and the immortal life ; for its range widens into infi 
 nity. As no neAV element can ever be added to 
 humanity, the endless future can only develop and 
 display the faculties now possessed, all of which are 
 formed for perpetual progress. It follows that the 
 future life grows out of ourselves, and that there is 
 nothing in all its glory which has not its first princi 
 ples in what we now are. And, through certain facts 
 and principles operating through this life, we may 
 see much of that life ; for there is no immortality 
 long enough for man to outgrow either his nature 
 or its laws. 
 
 In our present being we discover that God pro 
 motes the harmony of mankind through two general 
 modes, a sameness of nature and experience. The 
 animal comes not into human fellowship, because he 
 lacks the human powers necessary to know a human 
 being in his rational sphere. But from the sameness 
 of nature common to the race, two may meet from 
 the most distant parts of the world, and in time may 
 know each other's sentiments. This is not all. 
 There must be an essential likeness of experience, 
 or the sentiment of fraternity could not spring up. 
 Were it possible for two human beings to meet, in 
 whose experience there is nothing common, it is 
 plain that between them there could be no exchange 
 of thought or feeling. If one should say " order " 
 or " light " in his discourse, the other, not having these 
 in his experience, could not respond, could not know
 
 THE INFINITE HARMONY. 293 
 
 his meaning. Man understands man, because the 
 same facts fundamentally are in the experience of 
 each and all. Look, for instance, to the material 
 world. Do not all experience the same laws of na 
 ture in all parts of the earth ? Is not attraction the 
 same in India as in Boston ? Light, air, water, 
 earth, and heat are the same. The seven primary 
 colors and sounds are the same to all eyes and ears. 
 All know day and night, size, distance, motion ; all 
 know the one sun and moon, and, above all, see 
 the flowery fields of stars. Up and down, far and 
 near, straight and crooked, life and death, are similar 
 facts to all mankind ; whence it is that a kindred 
 experience makes possible the mutual acquaintance, 
 and this, the kindred feeling and harmony of souls. 
 But whence comes this common experience in the 
 outward world ? and what means it ? Evidently it 
 comes from that constitution of material nature 
 which, while it unfolds variety, brings all the race 
 under a unity of material laws. And the evident 
 meaning is to lay the foundation for harmony in the 
 lives of all, and to carry all forward in the perfection 
 of their powers. 
 
 But glance a moment into the moral nature and 
 laws of the universe. Are there not common facts 
 which unite all ? Thought, as a power, is the same 
 in Borneo as in Oxford, though differing in form, 
 direction, and degree. Love, too, as a power, is 
 one, though in condition it varies in the degrees of 
 elevation. To all there is a past, a present, and a 
 future ; a memory, action, and hope. Virtue and 
 vice, sorrow and joy ; are known to all. Worship, 
 
 25*
 
 294 THE INFINITE HARMONY. 
 
 the hope of life after death, and the belief in retribu 
 tion, are common facts. Indeed, the laws of our 
 spiritual nature are the same ; and hence it is that 
 the race have something common in their experience, 
 something to unite them in feeling and interest. 
 Men have many dialects ; but one language flows 
 from all. All are brothers by trial, by combat with 
 difficulty, as well as through kindred powers. 
 
 These two principles of harmony, the common 
 nature and the kindred facts of experience, are now 
 sufficiently clear. They need but to be glanced at 
 to convince us of their power. I now affirm that 
 these fundamentals of human concord flow through 
 all worlds ; that nothing less than the universe com 
 pletes their range. Of this truth we are convinced 
 by many considerations. The harmony of the uni 
 verse, as a whole, necessitates the conclusion, that 
 our planet, our nature, and our necessary experience 
 of established laws, be not isolated from the rest ; 
 still more, that these form no contradiction, no clash 
 with the nature, law, and order of other worlds ; 
 for concord of the whole always depends on the 
 harmony of the parts. Isolation and contradiction 
 are impossible to the harmonic whole, are ideas for 
 ever alien to nature's perfect arrangements. 
 
 That there are numberless worlds, our eyes see ; 
 that our vision takes in but a mite, is certain ; and 
 that those untold millions of worlds are inhabited by 
 intelligent beings, is the only thought worthy of 
 faith in an Infinite Creator. We cannot know that 
 intelligent beings are in those worlds : but this we 
 know, that nothing but intelligence could manage
 
 THE INFINITE HARMONY, 295 
 
 and take care of those massive and beautiful orbs ; 
 that nothing but intelligence could turn them to any 
 account ; and, wherever intelligence acts, there must 
 be an intelligent actor. Surely the boundless fields 
 of immensity are not a cold, neglected waste. If the 
 chief end of material nature is to develop spiritual 
 life, as we discover to be the case in our own world, 
 we must infer the general existence of moral intelli 
 gences throughout the entire empire of space. That 
 God should love his own image more than he loves 
 huge masses of matter, is evident from the excel 
 lence of his nature ; that he should seek to multiply 
 what he most loves throughout the universe, is the 
 safest induction. 
 
 Having lifted our minds to the immensity of the 
 universe, we will now return to the two ideas of har 
 mony already laid down, the sameness of nature 
 and of experience. And first, the sameness of na 
 ture. The chief beings of every world must be of 
 our own nature, although the condition of that na 
 ture may be higher or lower. I say they must be in 
 nature the same, from the fact that every mind in the 
 universe capable of reason and of moral law is of 
 the same family. Truth cannot be explored, or 
 moral law obeyed, on Saturn, any more than here, 
 without the rational and the moral nature. The 
 chief beings of every planet must have material 
 bodies, in order to be adapted to their world ; and, 
 unless they have minds of a kindred order with the 
 powers of the Creator, they could never interpret his 
 works, nor render him homage. The outward uni 
 verse, being the embodiment of Divine thought and
 
 296 THE INFINITE HARMONY, 
 
 love, is a true display of the Eternal Powers ; and 
 whoever looks at nature so as to know its thought 
 and love, proves thereby that his mind is of the same 
 order as the Divine. God is the infinite condition of 
 our own powers. Otherwise we could no more 
 interpret the Divine Mind than the wild animal 
 could discern the attributes of the human. The ma 
 terial and the moral laws of the universe are un 
 changeably the same. The chief beings, therefore, 
 of all worlds must have the same nature, in order 
 to be the subjects of the same moral and material 
 laws. 
 
 That there is to a great extent how far I will 
 not undertake to say a likeness of experience 
 between the chief beings of all worlds, is evident 
 from the sameness of the moral and the material 
 laws. Attraction is experienced in all other worlds, 
 as it is here ; for it is in all what it is here. This 
 power is universal ; and here is one fact in the mate 
 rial world which must exist equally in the experience 
 of all the moral intelligences occupying the bound 
 less realms of nature, spread out for their use, 
 cultivation, and care. Light and heat must be 
 substantially the same. The universal light must 
 carry to all worlds the seven primary colors; for 
 they all exist in it. Matter and mind, of which the 
 universe is composed, must everywhere exhibit simi 
 lar properties ; and the chief beings of all worlds, 
 being themselves matter and mind, must, in their 
 experience, develop the wants and properties of 
 these, which are fundamentally the same, through 
 out immensity. The bodies which human minds
 
 THE INFINITE HARMONY. 
 
 297 
 
 have assumed correspond to the minds they embo 
 dy. The one is the image of the other. From the 
 adaptation of thing to thing everywhere manifest in 
 the Creator's work, we may safely infer that the 
 mind, in all other worlds, assumes a form to and 
 expressive of itself ; and, from the sameness of 
 powers in all rational and moral natures, we may 
 infer the resemblance of visible embodiments ; that 
 is to say, that the forms of the chief beings in all the 
 other worlds bear some similitude to our own. In 
 deed, the man of that most beautiful planet Saturn, 
 embellished by the environs of two majestic rings, 
 and illumined by the lamps of seven moons, must be 
 like us, erect in stature, or he could not see the 
 sublimity of the skies above him ; he could not well 
 study astronomy ; for the prone animals are not 
 constituted to look upwards, but downwards and 
 horizontal. So, indeed, of all worlds. 
 
 The fact, that the universe has but one only liv 
 ing and true God, throws into the moral experience 
 of the chief beings of all worlds one common ele 
 ment. The God of your being is the God of all 
 beings. His attributes are the same in all places. 
 Hence all true revelations throughout the universe 
 must reveal the same order of wisdom, power, and 
 love. Hence all beings must experience the same 
 qualities of the Divine Nature. I ask, is not this the 
 greatest point ? Does it not lay the foundation of 
 the universal concord ? For, in the great hereafter, 
 it will be impossible to meet a mind, I care not 
 where trained, though infinitely distant from the 
 sphere of our own former planet, who will not be
 
 298 THE INFINITE HARMONY. 
 
 one with us in this, that we each have the same 
 God, that Heaven has revealed to us both the 
 same Supreme. The unity of God implies that his 
 various manifesting mediums have unity also, so 
 that, through the infinite space, the roads which 
 lead to the Supreme are similar. In other words, 
 God must be known by what he does, by his own 
 works and language. Now, the unity of the actor 
 and of the speaker is necessarily impressed on the 
 action and the speech. There is this unity to all 
 the acts and words that ever came from any one, 
 that sum them all up, not even omitting the contra 
 dictions, and that sum is the full revelation of him. 
 All the parts unite to tell us who and what he is. 
 But the field of man's doing is limited. The field of 
 the Divine action is unlimited : it is equal to himself. 
 And there is unity flowing throughout the entire 
 doings of God, so that the whole circle of his works 
 and utterance tells who and what he is. As his mani 
 festations include all things, and as there is unity 
 floAving through all these, is it not safe to say that 
 there are likeness and unity in the experience of all 
 the beings of the different worlds, capable of coming 
 to the Divine Mind through its manifestations ? For 
 their experience must accord with the universe in 
 which they are placed, and the means through which 
 the Deity is revealed. 
 
 I would here pause for a moment to apply the 
 truth already gained. We have gone over the evi 
 dence which yields us the two convictions, that the 
 powers and the experience of all moral intelligences 
 are kindred, are similar. Reciprocal influences and
 
 THE INFINITE HARMONY. 299 
 
 sympathies cannot exist without these. They are 
 the necessary, though not the entire, fountains of the 
 universal concord of minds. Behold the beautiful 
 lesson ! The school of the universe is so arranged, 
 the universal order is so fixed, that, from all ends 
 of the vast creation, rational and moral beings may 
 hereafter meet with the power of mutual love and 
 sympathy. All things point to the spiritual, and the 
 general harmony of minds. Glorious universe ! 
 Prophetic Nature ! 
 
 One more element in the grand concord of souls 
 let me here point out. I mean the elective affinity, 
 by which all minds and hearts recognize those of 
 their own order. The astonishing facility and accu 
 racy which mark the operation of this principle in 
 human society, among every order of talent, taste, 
 genius, disposition, and character, are truly remark 
 able. By this elective affinity we are drawn to 
 some, and repelled from others. By it we would 
 choose our society and friends. But there are ob 
 stacles to its perfect operation here. The transient 
 affinities of local and selfish interests do it violence. 
 But it is a perfect law. In the free future, these 
 obstructions will be removed ; and, under its perfect 
 and universal action, society will form itself. Every 
 degree of moral and intellectual excellence, every 
 shade of ignorance and vice, will so control its ac 
 tion, that society will fall into the most harmonious 
 relations possible. The law which forms the crystal 
 is not more infallible than this elective affinity, which, 
 cleared of obstructions, shall form society into con 
 cordant relations and parts.
 
 300 THE INFINITE HARMONY. 
 
 Thus dawns upon us the Infinite Harmony. It 
 flows through the ages, and ranges through all time 
 and space. It pervades the infinite divisions of na 
 ture, and ascends as a silent hymn from all the 
 changes and facts of life. Justice works in order. 
 It has an infinite range. Wisdom works out nothing 
 but harmony. It holds empire over a boundless 
 sweep of Providence. God is One. Hence the uni 
 verse is the infinitely divided harmony. God is 
 Love. This is the great fact ; for love is the har- 
 monizer of discords, the great fountain of union and 
 peace. The infinite harmony of God, nature, and 
 time, is laid in the human consciousness ; otherwise 
 the soul could not know it when revealed, otherwise 
 the soul is not descended from God. Rejoice that 
 such a nature is yours. Rejoice that such a universe 
 surrounds you. Rejoice in Him whose unseen hand 
 so moves upon the harp of time as to bring music 
 from all its trembling strings. Trust deeply in him. 
 He is the harmonic worker. Gain the spirit of all 
 things, the spirit of God. Be within yourselves the 
 harmonioiis fountain. Make the universe your song, 
 and the endless time your solemn anthem. Be one, 
 and your concords are eternal.
 
 301 
 
 SORROW. 
 
 WONDERFUL is the problem of man's life. Who 
 shall declare its meaning ? Who shall lift the veil 
 of darkness from its truths ? It is not difficult, I 
 admit, to see that the general aim of being is good 
 ness ; indeed, it appears most difficult not to see it ; 
 but so to interpret the conflicting phenomena of 
 human happiness and misery as to harmonize them 
 with Divine benevolence is a task confessedly great. 
 The human race, in their own imperfect ways, are 
 seekers of happiness ; and from every summit of 
 observation, from the deep of the human heart, un 
 der every shade of sorrow and dissatisfaction, the 
 solemn questions have been given, Why is life so 
 incomplete ? Why are dissatisfaction, sorrow, and 
 suffering so great a part of human destiny ? How 
 do the numerous opposites blend into unity ? I 
 claim not the ability to rend the dark veil of this 
 mysterious temple. Perhaps it hangs there to tem 
 per the otherwise too effulgent light, which, by its 
 brightness, had injured our vision. But, to shed 
 some light on the sources and aims of human misery, 
 I select this topic, which, though not particularly 
 demanded by especial occasion, forms so great a 
 part of human experience, that no time is inappro- 
 
 26
 
 302 SORROW. 
 
 priate when the spirit of reflection is able and willing 
 to meet its demands. 
 
 The soul has poured the eloquence of its sorrows 
 into all history. The poetry of every nation sings 
 the fact. The mighty past, viewed simply from 
 external appearance, is one great drama of life 
 and death, grandeur and ruins. Laughter and tears 
 have alternated as sunshine and showers in the great 
 experience of ages. Now that we are in the promises 
 of the nineteenth century, we find humanity the same ; 
 its skies, with each and all of us, changing in daily 
 experience ; now lovely in its light, and anon som 
 bre in the menace of its cloud. Yet, under these 
 mutations, the earth of being revolves, and the great 
 discipline of spirits goes on unceasingly. The soul, I 
 take it, seldom feels its completeness, rarely knows 
 the entire absence of dissatisfaction ; while, through 
 its constitutional elements of happiness, the sadness 
 of sorrow and the bitterness of misery do often 
 come. I would draw no unreal picture. I would 
 allow the very eye and countenance of society to 
 utter in silence the various chastenings, perversions, 
 and injuries of the spirit, whose signs they are. 
 
 Nor is the fact of sorrow, here named, in human 
 life without sympathy and likeness in the natural 
 world, whose intermingling lights and shades, whose 
 fading flowers and sighing winds, whose autumn 
 silence and darkened skies, answer back the feelings 
 of the mind. There are limes when nature seems 
 full of conscious feeling, when her spirit seems to 
 say that causes of mournful aspect live behind her 
 many veils and curtains. The soul reads the Ian-
 
 SORROW. 303 
 
 guage it feels. If some circumstance, as the death 
 of the dearest friend, strikes the plaintive chord 
 within you, the universe at once resounds the serious 
 melodies of the heart. All things become your 
 friend, and the brooks and forests turn mourners 
 also. The soul has no words which nature does not 
 speak. It is well that God, in his works, has this 
 various language ; for all may be solaced in this 
 various communion, into which no hypocrisy ever 
 enters. 
 
 In looking into the face of this problem, we should 
 avoid the pusillanimous folly of bringing into the 
 causation an evil being, to whose agency the phe 
 nomena of woe must be ascribed. This is to divide 
 the universe between God and Belial, to deny all 
 unity of plan and purpose in the government of the 
 world, to supplant faith in God as being All in All, 
 and is high treason against the whole system of 
 cause and consequence. The wildest surmises have 
 grown out of this apparent conflict of good and ill ; 
 some even denying to God the authorship of the 
 world, and others giving him an unconquerable 
 antagonist in the administration of its affairs. But 
 faith, in union with reason, is conscious of boundless 
 harmony in the circle of nature and providence, and 
 jovfully affirms the unity of God, and the oneness 
 of his government. 
 
 In seeking the fountains of human sorrow, one is 
 conscious of looking into an abyss of truth, or of 
 glancing into such vast complications as to be in a 
 measure confused. Still we are positive that all the 
 phenomena of misery resolve themselves into cause
 
 304 SORROW. 
 
 and effect as truly as do the endless facts of outward 
 nature ; and of this truth we will not lose sight, 
 though the greatest mysteries crowd upon us. That 
 the whole problem of suffering is solved by the one 
 idea, the violation of natural law, we cannot 
 believe, since the necessary law of things constantly 
 inflicts it. Each step of yours on the verdant earth 
 crushes living millions. Air, sea, and forest animals 
 inflict and endure suffering, not against the natural 
 law, but by and through it. Pain, in certain forms, 
 is the universal fact in the whole animated system. 
 Thus do we see that suffering prevails where instinct 
 unerringly guides its millions to fulfil the laws of 
 their being. 
 
 Man differs from all these. He has reason, lan 
 guage, hope, religion, sorrow, and happiness .in their 
 deep fountains and high forms. And whatever the 
 sources of human misery are, it is certain that they 
 are bounded by the nature of man, by its inward 
 action and external circumstance, in every age of 
 his being. 
 
 Naturally, therefore, we begin by seeking the 
 sources of human evil in man himself. And the first 
 discovery is, that each element of humanity is sus 
 ceptible of happiness, and, what follows from this, 
 that he has an equal capacity of misery. Through 
 each of the high gifts, misery may flow. Reason has 
 its own labors and sorrows. Fancy makes illusion, 
 and suffers in conflict with the real. Hope knows 
 its own wrecks, conscience its own suffering, the will 
 its own struggles, and love its own sorrows. The 
 greatness of these elements appears in all human grief;
 
 SORROW. 305 
 
 and nothing more eloquently publishes the grandeur 
 of man than the character and extent of his sor 
 rows. The sorrow of doubt attests the superiority 
 of the intellect, but for which the struggle of faith 
 were impossible. Only a great nature can know 
 remorse. It is possible only on the ground that the 
 power of moral right in human nature is mighty and 
 faithful. The ruins of human hope, the tears of 
 misplaced and wounded affection, all unite to bear 
 witness that our spiritual being has the divine order 
 of powers ; a testimony this baptized in tears, and 
 therefore more earnest and real, nay, more beautiful 
 also, than the truest speculations of the divine con 
 cerning the dignity of man. But, while the richness 
 of the human elements proves that,, but for the 
 superiority of the human nature, the great sorrows 
 could not be, I do not infer thence, that human 
 misery comes from either of these, or all combined, 
 except there is some fundamental conflict in their 
 nature, an innate war of elements, so to speak, in 
 the human consciousness, which I do not find. We 
 know that a conflict of power with power is displayed 
 in the lives of all; but it is difficult to verify the 
 position, that the primitive constitution is the parent 
 of this conflict. Still it seems quite natural for pas 
 sion to oppose reason, for fancy to resist judgment, 
 for appetite, though perhaps only through abuse, to 
 cry against the reason and the right. Whether the 
 conflict of these grand elements be primitive or not, 
 it proves the transcendent greatness of the nature, 
 and that the source of human sorrow wells up 
 through an immortal soil. 
 
 26*
 
 306 
 
 SORROW. 
 
 But I would say that the perversion of the ele 
 ments of humanity is the most mournful and constant 
 fountain of human misery. Violence has been done, 
 and pain is borne. Ignorance and vice pervert us 
 in a thousand ways ; and so deeply does sin strike 
 into the inner life, that its infirmities at least are 
 reproduced in after generations ; so that all trans 
 gression of divine law, whether in the perishable 
 or the imperishable man, is marked with the wise, 
 calm, and long displeasure of the True and the 
 Right. Sin is a word of fearful meaning, and all 
 climes are shaded by its gloom. It is the poison of 
 the spirit-life, the eclipse of the soul, the fountain 
 and river of tears over all the earth. Why is not 
 the eye more celestial in its expression ? Why does 
 not the countenance radiate more truth, purity, and 
 love ? or why do the features publish the reign of 
 doubt, of selfish aims, of lust, and sin ? Oh ! it is 
 because our nature is so true, it will in some manner 
 draw the likeness of the great inward fact, which, 
 be it pure or evil, is more than all other facts, it 
 being that to which all else conspires. I speak here 
 of the voluntary evil which we experience, knowing 
 the right, and doing the wrong. Excess in any of 
 the powers is sin ; and some kind of suffering, ac 
 cording to the nature of the excess, in solemn and 
 severe kindness, warns us of the fact. And, among 
 the voluntary wrongs which moisten " countless 
 thousands' " eyes, is that of unkindness. The cold 
 look, the harsh or icy word, the oppressive act, grieve 
 the tender sensibilities, waken the power of despair, 
 and plant the thorns of discouragement and sorrow,
 
 SORROW. 307 
 
 in a thousand hearts. Most believingly do we affirm 
 it, that all that is necessary to take from the world 
 half of its misery is the loving spirit of Jesus. In 
 this spirit, what delight would we have in bearing 
 each other's sorrows, in cheering each other's sad 
 ness ! Graceful and kind would be our words ; for 
 true love speaks no other. The smiles of the human 
 face were then real sunlight, never failing to create 
 joy. The influence of such love in acts, whether 
 of alms to ' the poor, or electric words of life to the 
 desponding, is the Spirit of God breathing upon our 
 hearts. 
 
 I claim that all evil within the circle of the will 
 may be avoided ; every passion may be tempered 
 and held by reason ; ambition, often the fire of hell 
 on earth, may be cooled and purified by the moral 
 sentiment ; and that selfishness, which wakes up in 
 its path a thousand foes, may be burned to ashes by 
 the true Christian faith and love. How much of 
 ignorance might we remove ! and how many abuses 
 of the body might we correct ! 
 
 But, beyond the pale of volition, springs of suffer 
 ing arise. The rude play of elements often sport 
 with human life ; the savage sea destroys ; the sirocco 
 kills ; the wild beast feasts upon prey ; famine lifts 
 his pale face, and walks in death's drear way over 
 territories where plenty was wont to reign ; the earth 
 quake, with but a few trembling warnings, swallows 
 multitudes ; while, from the chemical changes of the 
 elements around us, disease and death spring up. 
 We inherit the infirmities of ancestors : willing evil 
 in them, in time became necessary injury to descend-
 
 303 
 
 SORROW. 
 
 ants. Ignorance, to some extent, is a necessary evil ; 
 since capacity is limited, and we all begin this life 
 knowing nothing. Yet it is the queen and mother 
 of superstitious horrors : the people wail and cry 
 because the sun is eclipsed. It is an ocean of tears. 
 Social evils are necessary, until there is wisdom and 
 will enough to remove them. Death, too, God's 
 good angel, in the true constitution and meaning of 
 things, will come and take away the dearest, leaving 
 no assurances but its own mystic shadow behind. 
 The bereaved mother exclaims, " What, O Heaven ! 
 tell me what has become of my child ! " But Heaven 
 answers only by its silence. Here is necessary evil, 
 so much of it that it scorns our logic, should we 
 account for it by violation of law. It is a part of 
 the system of things. And in real life there will 
 always be something to dissatisfy us, to excite sor 
 row. The tale which has never grown old, of 
 reason broken, of honors withered, of life's fair 
 blossoms cropped, of friends severed, of virtue lost, 
 will continue to be the news, a part of the darkly- 
 winged messages of intelligence, to future genera 
 tions of men. And, if we might be allowed to walk 
 freely on sacred ground, we would point to the sor 
 rows which have come from the abuses of the one 
 good and sacred element of humanity, the instinct of 
 religion. But let us not linger here. The elements 
 of the tree and the shrub are not perverted ; they 
 unite in one thing, the very thing intended ; but it is 
 the glory of our humanity that it has the wonderful, 
 and, I may add, the fearful gift of moral freedom, 
 and may therefore be perverted, and is perverted.
 
 SORROW. 309 
 
 But, to meet all these things, there is true heroism 
 in man to suffer and to endure ; nay, more, there is 
 genius in him to draw from his evils the greatest 
 good. Since there is a plurality of purposes which 
 each single thing subserves, since every fact ful 
 fils an end, I would ask for the uses and influ 
 ences of human sorrow and suffering ; for surely, 
 in a universe of such economy and design as this, 
 the vast phenomena of sorrow are neither wasted 
 nor purposeless. I think it clear, that Perfect Bene 
 volence has made sorrow possible ; not only possible, 
 but, to a good extent, necessary and useful. I freely 
 express the conviction, that there is no more suffering 
 in the universe than there ought to be, considering the 
 causes it springs from. The causes, until removed, 
 ought to be followed as they are. The pain is no 
 more than adequate to the burn. The remorse is 
 no greater than its cause in the conscience. The 
 outbursts of the volcano are not more than the sub 
 terranean fire. The tornado is none too sweeping 
 for the impelling cause in the atmosphere. The 
 social evils of families, communities, and govern- 
 ments, are not greater than the follies which preceded 
 and caused them. 
 
 We too suddenly grow impatient of trial, and 
 apply to life the motto too rashly, that happiness is 
 the chief end of being, which, in its deepest sense, 
 is true, since the perfection of all our various powers 
 is happiness. But for immediate happiness, and 
 complete, no one is made. It is better to say, that 
 the true development of our nature is the end ; and, 
 from the depth, richness, and variety of its powers,
 
 310 SORROW. 
 
 infer the need of a various and complicated system 
 of means to bring them out. Among these, trial, 
 sorrow, suffering, are a necessary part. The willow 
 hangs down its beautiful branches in nature, the 
 very symbol of the meekness and beauty of grief. 
 The voices of many birds, the speech of many 
 lovely scenes on earth, seem tuned and pencilled 
 to this idea. The soul has the rich sensibilities, 
 which, from the variety of outward circumstance, 
 render some alternations of joy and sorrow inevi 
 table. Life is a discipline, and there is not a chord 
 in our wonderful nature which some event does not 
 strike at some time. The riches of this discipline 
 are strewn over all the earth ; we reap them intel 
 lectually and morally, even when least aware of 
 doing so. When heaven pours out its tears in 
 rain, the good is not visible till the shower is past, 
 Avhen every lawn, meadow, and forest tells it : mil 
 lions of flowers silently thank the liquid visitants by 
 their new-gained vigor and freshness. 
 
 Great trials and sufferings make history interest 
 ing. Even heroism arouses us, because it is the dis 
 play of great mental force in its triumph over such 
 difficulties as amaze the common mind. Could all 
 sorrow and trial be at once blotted out from our own 
 experience, would not our individual history be more 
 charmless and dull in the retrospection? Even the 
 places where the alternations of joy and grief have 
 been greatest are a sort of hallowed ground ; and all 
 history were a dull and even plain but for its tragi 
 cal events. I admire the tragedy of human life. In 
 nature we would not melt down the wild mountains,
 
 SORROW. 311 
 
 whose leaping torrents and solemn grandeur give us 
 " beauty lying in the lap of terror," merely to form in 
 its place a landscape of flowers. We would not tear 
 from the skies the dark embroidery of storm, nor 
 silence the loud trumpets by which nature portends 
 her elemental strifes ; nor in human life would we ask 
 the constant sunshine and uninterrupted play of joy 
 ous feeling. Development asks the various alterna 
 tions. The calm flow of the river is not its highest 
 beauty. This appears when, gliding over steep de 
 scents, when, rushing over obstructions, its current 
 is broken ; when the cataract joins its diapason roar 
 to the wildness of the scene. So one revolution in 
 human life, which exhibits the soul in more intense 
 thought and passion, calls out traits and utterances 
 which are inspired, and are never forgotten. 
 
 Viewing the sorrows of life in the relation of cause 
 and effect, it is plain that a good is done by its min 
 istries, which, to those who improve them, could 
 never have been done in any other form. 
 
 Glancing over the intellectual riches descending 
 from this source, the wisdom which springs from the 
 monitory events of life is worthy of thought. Each 
 pain is a teacher. Every disease is a silent remon 
 strance either against ourselves, or our ancestors, or 
 both. There, too, on the other side of the way, is a 
 man so ignorant that he scarcely knows the pleasure 
 of a thought : the passions of his nature have groAvn 
 unchecked and unelevated by his moral sentiments. 
 His intellectual eye has never opened to the light and 
 beauty of the world. He lies, fights, and steals. He 
 is the incarnation of personal and social misery. But
 
 312 SORROW. 
 
 does not a mighty reproof come from him ? So far 
 as he has reason, he is a reproof to himself. And so 
 far as society is responsible in allowing human beings 
 to grow up in ignorance from infancy, he is a shame 
 and a reproach to the State. This condemned one is 
 the condemnation of many. Ireland is miserable, 
 and the ears of nations listen to her cries. But who 
 ever looks at the misery of Ireland sees in it the 
 indignant reproof of social and political errors. The 
 natural law is that men own the soil they cultivate, 
 that they be allowed both the discovery and the sat 
 isfaction of their political wants. The unchristian 
 idea of supporting a priesthood and a church by 
 law receives, in the sufferings of that people, so rich 
 in every resource of nature and mind, the most 
 earnest and plaintive remonstrance. Neither has 
 society done its duty in the proper education of hu 
 man beings. They have not weighed the fact that 
 man is moulded by surrounding influences, and ac 
 cordingly have not sought to surround every child 
 with the formative power of the most ennobling cir 
 cumstance. Let this law be understood, and the 
 race at once begins to ascend. 
 
 Here and there a sensitive man complains that 
 nobody loves him, that he meets nothing but the 
 love of advantage. For one to be thus conscious is 
 doubtless miserable ; for there is not a king on his 
 throne who is indifferent to the common feeling : 
 no, there is not a prince so grand as not to feel a 
 gentle touch of dissatisfaction in the scornful glance 
 of a beggar, if he knows that that scorn is earnest 
 and sincere. But this complaint of being unloved is
 
 SORROW. 
 
 the severe self-admonition ; for to love others is the 
 surety of being loved. He whom nobody loves is 
 for ever he who loves nobody. But to reprove error 
 in its multiform existence is but one of the ends to 
 which human misery operates. 
 
 Those serious facts which surround every one 
 through each stage of being, which we call evil, 
 contribute to yield that general spiritual element, 
 sobriety. Seriousness forms the far greater balance 
 over the mirthful and the gay. The stars always 
 seem as serious, while the young rills flow laughingly 
 on. The ocean, in its mighty heavings, makes you 
 serious ; so do mountains, and all the higher displays 
 of natural beauty. It is serious thought that nature 
 is always evolving. In human life also the same law 
 prevails. Underneath our happiest mirth, there is a 
 calm fountain of sober thought. There is an uncer 
 tainty about all we undertake. The excess of hope 
 is followed up by disappointments, often as thunder 
 follows lightning. Life is a serious fact, so is death. 
 The various sorrows spread over all things a halo of 
 calm and profound seriousness ; and we say that this 
 is the element in which the riches of the intellect are 
 chiefly produced. There is a spiritual solitude in 
 all deep souls, where reflection turns into diamond 
 and gold what the senses have received. I deny the 
 reality of any riches of mind Avhere the soul has not 
 seriously thought, where it has not felt the vastness, 
 the solemnity, and the beauty of truth ; for it is on 
 the mountains of this sober silence that the highest 
 thoughts are born. Deep fountains bear a shade. 
 Love makes the youth more sober, whilst the surface 
 
 27
 
 314 SORROW. 
 
 and counterfeit of the passion play off in glee or in 
 blank pretension. Genius, the creative power, which 
 does by strokes and glances more than the strongest 
 talent can do, is proverbial for its sombre hues. Such 
 were Burns and Shakspeare. Lay open the history 
 of genius to the sun, and it exhibits a baptism of spir 
 itual trial not common to the mass, in which the fac 
 ulties are purified and energized. Sacred genius 
 especially, which intuitively sees the religious verities, 
 and sheds their light upon the world, knows the sor 
 rowful ; and it has been the lot of all such to address 
 our hearts in the subduing tones of virtue and truth, 
 speaking from the records of sorrow and grief, as 
 the life of Jesus and others abundantly teach. 
 
 The proud son of Mammon, who has felt himself 
 better than others, and delighted in overbearing airs 
 and acts, feels at last the subduing touch of affliction ; 
 for he too has a heart, and there are objects of his 
 love. Sorrow gives him new thoughts and feelings. 
 His voice to others changes and softens, and his airs 
 also change. The harsh accents are modified by the 
 spirit of sympathy ; and the stars are not more visible 
 than the fact, that the intellect of this child of pros 
 perity was never so beautiful before. 
 
 We owe to the phenomena of sorrow much of this 
 general element of seriousness, in which the highest 
 forms of thought are born ; for we cannot conceive 
 that man would think or feel seriously in a universe 
 in which there were no serious facts. Our age may 
 somewhat lack the true seriousness, and likewise the 
 true mirth, which, where the one is, will be the other 
 also in a corresponding perfection.
 
 SORROW. 315 
 
 But the riches of sorrow shine most in the moral 
 feelings. The rock is smitten by God's messenger, 
 and a pure fountain of sympathy gushes forth. He 
 whose words were blasphemous before, grow rever 
 ent now. Man then thinks of his sacred and eternal 
 relations more than of his transient connections and 
 interests. Jesus comes to us in the divine virtues, 
 all of which speak through trial and sorrow. Love 
 and faith never unfold their full, divine beauty, until 
 tried, tested, and opposed. The sublime trust of 
 Jesus was as the sun appearing out of clouds. Chris 
 tianity baptized in trial, and crowned with the trustful 
 death of its founder, is infinitely more powerful and 
 beautiful than if its ideas had appeared in the historic 
 envelope of prosperous and brilliant circumstance. 
 We will follow this view no farther, but would pro 
 ceed to notice the fact, that human sorrow, rightly 
 improved, serves to spiritualize human happiness. 
 
 Strictly it is the soul that takes cognizance of all 
 sorrow and suffering. The body feels not a wound 
 when the mind is highly excited. It is not body, but 
 mind, that chiefly suffers and enjoys. All sympathy 
 ceases in the corporeal of man, when mind is with 
 drawn. But the sensual seek to enjoy all through 
 the animal powers. Pleasure and gratification they 
 seek rather than happiness, which more properly 
 signifies the conscious satisfaction consequent on the 
 true manifestation of all the powers, the chief of 
 which are spiritual. 
 
 Flowing along smoothly, there are sealed foun 
 tains of spirit not called forth ; but sorrow throws the 
 soul back upon itself, wakes up all the powers of
 
 316 SORROW. 
 
 self-support and self-entertainment. This is spiritual 
 power ; it is thought in new forms ; it is feeling in 
 new directions. The soul ascends from the sensual 
 entertainments to those higher, to its own cheerful 
 and dignified feasts and banquets. The animal is . 
 more in check ; the spiritual is let out of its stupid 
 confine. The saint, therefore, owes the grace and 
 elegance of his spirit much to the influences of sorrow 
 in some form. A venerable father, of no limited 
 observation, once said to me, " It has never been my 
 fortune to meet with very interesting persons in this 
 Avorld, in whose spiritual history suffering had riot 
 been a very essential part." Natural history affirms 
 that the wounded oyster mends his shell wilh pearl 
 taken from out himself; and it is from the spirit's 
 own pearl that the good embellish their character. 
 
 But we are not sure that we know a tithe of the 
 benevolence for which the system of things operates, 
 and of which suffering is so great a part. But, as 
 God is love, the ends must be benevolent ; though 
 an infinite range of intellect were necessary to know 
 and comprehend them perfectly. As all things of 
 this life point to the future, somewhat as infancy 
 points to manhood, we trust that the clearer wisdom 
 of the higher spheres shall better explain the sad 
 phenomena of human suffering. It may be that the 
 sympathies now developed are to be called into a 
 highly benevolent requisition in the ministries of our 
 future being. How far suffering enters into the 
 discipline of other worlds no one may say ; but to 
 possess the similarity of experience necessary to the 
 complete union and fraternity of minds hereafter,
 
 SORROW. 317 
 
 which should be wide enough to unite the intelligent 
 empire of God, it must be co-extensive with the 
 rational and moral nature which forms the image of 
 God throughout the infinite space. Our faith points 
 us to this inference of the indefinite expansion of the 
 utility of this part of our experience in the future 
 world, since that life is the indefinite expansion of all 
 the good here gained. 
 
 But this varied phenomenon of the world is beauti 
 ful. There is eloquent feeling in the joyous laugh. 
 It breathes also in the sigh, and brightens in the tear. 
 Day is glorious through the sun, and night through 
 the moon and stars. In its shades, not only new 
 worlds are seen, but those farther distanced than the 
 day-orb, whose splendor will not let them be known. 
 I say they are farther off, and are discovered in more 
 quietness, than the busy day admits. So sorrow un 
 rolls new heavens in the character. Far-off truths 
 radiate their light upon us, and all this in the greater 
 silence of a sobered meditation. It is not easy to 
 say which is richer, the golden leaf of October or 
 the green foliage of June : each beautifies its season, 
 though the one is life, and the other is death. I love 
 to see the lonely grandeur of forests, and fields of 
 grain ; but perhaps the greater interest comes when 
 the branches wave in the winds, and the great fields 
 seem as a waving sea through the stirring breeze. Thus 
 the persons of this world have not most interest when 
 all is still, but when humanity is stirred by trial, 
 when all its powers wave to the winds of opposing 
 influence. The rainbow arches the heaven against 
 the sun. We admire its colors, and call it the per- 
 27*
 
 318 SORROW. 
 
 feet part of an uncompleted circle. But the beau 
 teous bow owes its being to the dark cloud, its falling 
 rain, and the sunshine radiating each drop. Good 
 symbol this of the idea intended. There is a beauty 
 which comes of sorrow, a promise, which, like the 
 part of a circle, reminds one of the whole. We 
 have often asked the wise to account for the smile 
 which quite often is left on the face of the dead ; and 
 the idea which strikes the imagination in the color 
 of probability is that its cause is mental ; that the 
 mind has left upon the countenance its own impres- 
 ^ion while receiving the light of the immortal world. 
 It appears as the smile of a departing spirit on its 
 temple of clay, which it leaves for a more perfect 
 mansion. 
 
 I have spoken of human misery in its sources and 
 results ; and I would add a few remarks on the man 
 ner in which its facts should be met. On this depends 
 much, since it involves the principle on which its 
 good or evil mainly depends. I would say, do not 
 allow it to overwhelm you. Be superior to it as far 
 as possible. Meet the inevitable, in all the energy 
 and calmness the soul can command. There is a 
 blending of meekness and power in which you should 
 breast the storm. 
 
 I would also say, study well the law of happiness 
 which a given sorrow involves ; and, if that law is 
 within your reach, place yourself upon it, as the lost 
 at sea would plant their feet upon an island or on the 
 brown floor of a rock above the waves. Seek not 
 insensibility to the evils of life. The cold indifference 
 i* but affectation ; the breast of marble and the face
 
 SORROW. 
 
 319 
 
 of iron are perversions of what is good and richest 
 within us. Learn, above all things, learn the Crea 
 tor's law within you. Obey that law as Heaven's 
 condition of happiness. 
 
 I would say, meet evil Jesus-like. Meet it in 
 faith, faith in the divine end to which sorrows 
 work. God does not pause to say what he intends, 
 but works on in silence and for ever. But thou art 
 a soul. Thou art God's immortal incarnated ; and 
 to thee all providence turns. All worlds in the inno 
 cent space are looking unto thee. All law, order, 
 and beauty in nature concern thee. Thou art .the 
 End. All scenes, all events, become thy ministers of 
 good. The facts of sorrow are thy facts. Subordi 
 nate them at once to thy good, lest they subordinate 
 thee. Oat in the wild parterre of nature blooms a 
 wild flower in the deep shadow of night, whose leaves 
 close at the dawning of the sun. Such are many 
 virtues, whose seeds are in the bosom sown. To the 
 stars of sorrow's nightly hour their beauty blooms. 
 The life of faith is holy ; and it may, like the swan of 
 Apollo, be breathed out in song most rich hi the last 
 and dying strain.
 
 320 
 
 THE IMMORTAL LIFE. 
 
 THE hope of man enters the Infinite. Endless time 
 and the Supreme Good are alone its measure. In 
 various forms the idea of immortality is unfolded in 
 the millions of the race ; and, striking deep root into 
 nature's soil, it overshadows the nations, somewhat 
 as the forest-oak shades the plants at its feet. There 
 is no truth more natural than this. Though gross 
 superstitions may have weighed it down, and sub 
 serviency to the animal man may have obscured its 
 light for a time, yet the great fact is never effaced. 
 From out of sorrow, error, sin, it always speaks as 
 the prophet of the soul. Sophistry may darken this 
 oracle, as clouds and vapors obscure the loveliness 
 of the vale ; but, like those, it disappears, leaving 
 the original truth to shine in its natural dignity and 
 primitive grandeur. 
 
 This question of immortality is a problem to man. 
 No race below him gives evidence of even an in 
 stinctive thought upon it. The fact, that the human 
 race entertain this question with all its logical diffi 
 culties, the fact that they have felt its solution import 
 ant, proves that the subject rightly belongs to the 
 human sphere. Unless human nature is united to 
 this truth, I perceive no reason why the question
 
 THE IMMORTAL LIFE. 
 
 should ever have been entertained. The instinctive 
 tribes are troubled with no science above their na 
 tures, with no questions out of their spheres. This 
 fact alone, that we feel the problem forced upon us, 
 that we wrestle with its difficulties, and stand in awe 
 before its shadowing mystery, intimates that to the 
 immortal we are born. Otherwise why should the 
 problem perplex us ? Can astronomy, as a science, 
 disturb the swan ? No more, indeed, could the idea 
 of immortality incite in us hopes or fears, except our 
 natures were equal to the fact itself. 
 
 This sentiment, instead of being a curious specula 
 tion, seems to lie near the fountain of morals and 
 religion. A moral principle is, from its nature, ever 
 lasting ; nor can it fitly apply to mere animals that 
 perish. Religion implies worship and hope towards 
 a Divinity who is eternal. But, if human nature is 
 a transient combination of animal life, with no future 
 before it, what moral alliance can it possibly have 
 with the Everlasting, either as Divinity or as law ? 
 There are, as all admit, everlasting laws and truths. 
 Nature itself unfolds these. And must not man, the 
 only being able to interpret and understand ever 
 lasting truths and laws, have that within himself 
 which is as imperishable as the laws he compre 
 hends ? Once blot out immortality from the nature 
 of man, and I see not from what morals or religion 
 can proceed. The whole horizon of existence is 
 covered with thick and impenetrable darkness. God 
 is not, and humanity falls under the same laws that 
 reign over the life and destiny of mere animal ex 
 istence.
 
 322 THE IMMORTAL LIFE. 
 
 But it is unnecessary to state the importance of a 
 subject around which the solemn solicitudes of man 
 kind so thickly gather. We find this great hope 
 in the world ; whilst it is philosophically clear, that 
 the form in which it is held reflects the mental, 
 and to some extent the moral, state of a people. 
 If it assume gross forms of sensuous imagery, it 
 proves a people to be under the predominance of the 
 sensuous, of imagination and passion. The Indian 
 can do no better than to cherish a joyful vieAv of his 
 wild, unbounded forest, with abundant game ; whilst 
 the greater part of our popular description, though 
 it intimates that we are still swayed by the glare of 
 the senses, exhibits, we think, a decided improve 
 ment over former times. 
 
 Before argument is attempted on this subject, the 
 question should be settled, What is the basis of the 
 Immortal Life ? From what source does immortality 
 proceed ? The right determination of this question 
 corrects an error by far too common, I mean the 
 practice of treating the doctrine of immortality as a 
 future, and not as a present fact ; as something iso 
 lated from what man now is, rather than as growing 
 out of his present capacity. It is too much regarded 
 as an addition yet to be made to the human powers. 
 To this view I object, not only because it denies 
 the real and the natural foundation of the greatest 
 truth, but because it obscures a principal source of 
 evidence whence this truth is established. 
 
 I claim that the subjective view of this topic is 
 most unanswerable. We affirm immortality of the 
 nature of man. But why do we affirm or deny ?
 
 THE IMMORTAL LIFE. 323 
 
 The reasons for doing either must be justified by what 
 may be known of the being of whom the affirmation 
 or the denial is made. I would apply to this subject 
 a general principle of the creation, which must win 
 our confidence the more it is examined. It is this. 
 The Creator founds in the nature of every being and 
 object he creates the full capacity of answering the 
 ends for which those beings and objects are made. 
 The various ends answered by the air, earth, water, 
 sun, are corresponded to by the inherent qualities 
 these objects possess. The same is true of every 
 animal function and of every being. What can you 
 name that does not come under this law ? Is there 
 a single agency of the creation outside of it ? I 
 know not where to find it. The Creator himself is 
 within its infinite range ; for all that he has done, 
 is doing, or may do, all that he purposes and fulfils, is 
 corresponded to by the attributes and properties 
 which make him God. In him is the capacity for 
 all his ends. And in all that he creates, from the 
 simplest element up to the sublimest agency, he be 
 stows the properties essential to the ends he seeks to 
 fulfil. Accordingly, the artist, wise by observation, 
 and from an experience of the conditions of things, 
 always lays in his various structures and creations 
 the forms and properties necessary to the purposes to 
 be accomplished. Standing, therefore, on the firm 
 and impregnable basis of this, the Creator's illimi 
 table law, I affirm, that, if immortality is the end, or 
 even an end, of man's being, the capacities necessary 
 to its full realization are founded in him, are inherent 
 in his nature. The oak lies in the acorn. It cannot
 
 324 THE IMMORTAL LIFE. 
 
 be that a purpose so grand is isolated from the nature 
 of the being to whom it refers. The end and the 
 means are both in him. The fountain whence the 
 stream of immortality flows is in man, else the present 
 subject is out of the legitimate range of the human 
 hopes and powers. 
 
 Revelation brings life and immortality to light. 
 But whenever its various affirmations amount to the 
 proposition, " Man is immortal," it is implied at bot 
 tom that man is the continent of the capacities of 
 which the assurance is made ; as clearly, indeed, as 
 if one should say, " The rock is hard," " The foun 
 tain is pure." As it is the province of revelation 
 to discover and not to create truth, it must find in 
 humanity all the truth it affirms concerning it ; so 
 that the assurances of written revelation, as well as 
 the facts of consciousness, and the teaching of the 
 universal law but just announced, conspire to prove 
 that humanity is the source and basis of this great 
 truth, that it rests on nothing creatively miraculous 
 yet to be done. Bui, as God knows infinitely more 
 of our nature than we ourselves, his assuring voice 
 must triumph over our doubts and fears, although it 
 be but the infallible expression of a truth he has 
 sown in humanity, in having formed it after the image 
 of his own mind. 
 
 If man is wholly mortal, or in his human faculties 
 immortal, he is so by a power higher than himself; 
 he is so by the Creator's will. And, though I would 
 not speak of capacity in man or in the least created 
 thing as being for a moment independent of him, yet 
 it is plain that the will of God is written out, to no
 
 THE IMMORTAL LIFE. 325 
 
 common extent, in the things he has made. Is not 
 the will of God, that day should be dispensed to 
 mankind, written out in the nature and offices of the 
 sun ? And, however complicated the phenomena 
 and mystery of man, is not the Divine will concern 
 ing his connection with a future state written out in 
 those elements of being his nature combines ? As 
 we may affirm nothing of vegetable life which a 
 knowledge of that life will not justify ; as we would, 
 in the course of a just reasoning, allege nothing of 
 any object which a knowledge of it would not con 
 firm ; so all questions touching human nature must 
 be brought to the test of this nature, must be con 
 firmed or overthrown by what may be learned con 
 cerning it. To depart from this rule would, on every 
 other subject, be deemed unsafe. 
 
 Still we meet those who firmly believe in the im 
 mortal life from the assurances of revelation ; who ' 
 say, that the natural evidences, independent of this, 
 would have led them to the contrary conclusion. 
 This admission is evidently too great ; for it not only 
 confesses a great antagonism between these two' 
 methods of the divine teaching, but it prevents the 
 revealed truth from finding any confirmations in the 
 outward universe and in the human mind. For 
 the nature of man, which is said to teach a contrary 
 view before revelation authoritatively decides, re 
 maining the same afterwards, cannot confirm an 
 opposite view, except on the ground that it was pre 
 viously misinterpreted and misunderstood, which 
 implies the presence of a truth to misinterpret and 
 misunderstand, which was in reality the evidence of 
 28
 
 326 THE IMMORTAL LIFE. 
 
 the truth that revelation brought. But if nature, 
 rightly interpreted, justifies the contrary conclusion, 
 what can ever win her over to the support of the 
 divine message ? What can ever harmonize the 
 antagonism of the two? In the remarks here offered, 
 I choose to express what to me are the great and 
 striking evidences of human immortality as contained 
 in the life and being of man. 
 
 1. And the first evidence I would name is the 
 simple fact of worship. To me this is one of the 
 clearest and strongest evidences. "Worship, though 
 modified in its forms by education, has its spring in 
 the human heart. That this is its source, is evident 
 from its permanence and universality. It everywhere 
 satisfies a spiritual want. If the history of the world 
 is at all instructive, it proves that man by nature is a 
 worshipper, as clearly as it proves him a reasoner. It 
 "is true he has worshipped falsely. He has reasoned 
 also as falsely as he has worshipped. But he has 
 still a rational nature, else the erroneous philosophies 
 had never existed. He has likewise a religious 
 nature, else the false worships had never been. No 
 priest could ever have led his race to the altars of 
 religion, had not the human heart, independent of his 
 teachings, prompted a sacred devotion and homage. 
 The various religious phenomena of the world might 
 as naturally have burst forth from the animal races 
 as from man, provided the premises here stated are 
 untrue. As no fact in human nature is more perma 
 nent in its history than worship, so there is none 
 from which a great conclusion may be more safely 
 drawn.
 
 THE IMMORTAL LIFE, 327 
 
 Now, what does worship imply ? Always it im 
 plies an object, a Divinity. Worship looks upward ; 
 and in its superlative degree, to which its tendency 
 must naturally come, it recognizes a Supreme. If 
 no revelation had revealed the being of God to any 
 portion of the race, this sacred instinct of the soul 
 had turned mankind into worshippers, into seekers 
 after a Divinity, a God ; and, to the eye of reason, 
 the correspondence existing between all the known 
 wants of body and mind, and the existence of their 
 satisfying objects, had rendered it a just inference, 
 that the fact of worship in man's life is corresponded 
 to by a real Divinity, a Being worthy of the supreme 
 homage, although the clear knowledge of that Being 
 might not have existed in their minds. But I will 
 not pause to substantiate by evidences this greatest 
 idea of natural and revealed religion ; it being settled 
 in the conscious faith of mankind, I assume it as a 
 fact. Now, the idea of a Supreme God is that he is 
 infinite and immortal. Before such a Being the soul 
 bows in worship. To him it aspires. In his great 
 ness and goodness it rests. 
 
 Now let us seek to account for this fact. Whence 
 came this capacity to worship the great Source of 
 the universe and of man ? Whence this ability to 
 know and love the Immortal, the Infinite ? Plainly 
 it is implied that worship cannot exist in man towards 
 God, except on the ground that he has kindred 
 powers to the Divinity he adores. No truth is more 
 irresistible than this. Why is the animal incapable 
 of paying homage to God ? Why may he not 
 adore the philosopher of our race ? Evidently be-
 
 328 THE IMMORTAL LIFE. 
 
 cause he is destitute of the powers that are neces 
 sary to bring him into the range of divine and human 
 intellect. The worshipper, to be really such, must 
 have a kindredness of nature and of moral attribute. 
 Who could adore the wisdom, love, and righteous 
 ness of God, without similar sentiments in his own 
 breast, though existing in imperfect forms ? It were 
 utterly impossible. God appears to be the infinite 
 condition of our own spiritual powers, and may 
 therefore be worshipped by all. When I behold the 
 millions of our race seeking the Eternal and the In 
 finite as the satisfaction of an inward want, as the end 
 of their highest hopes and love, I cannot but see in 
 such a worship the infallible proof that human nature 
 is allied to the Divinity it approaches ; that the kin 
 dred nature, which this free and spiritual worship 
 implies, places the immortality of the worshipper and 
 of the being worshipped on the same firm and im 
 movable basis. We are thankful for the light shed on 
 this mysterious problem by this simple fact, proving 
 the native alliance of the soul to God. 
 
 2. The sense of the Infinite in human nature is a 
 faithful witness to this truth. It may be difficult to 
 state the manner in which this feeling unfolds in the 
 human race ; but there are many evidences con 
 vincing us of its presence. It does not belong to 
 the culture of the modern ages exclusively; for it 
 found expression in the prayers and worship of the 
 earlier ages. It is said that the Oriental mind began 
 with the Infinite in its reasonings ; that it was their 
 chief and central thought. This homage to an Infi 
 nite Power, so strongly characteristic of the primitive
 
 THE IMMORTAL LIFE. 329 
 
 ages, this perception of an illimitable Wisdom as 
 working in space, this idea of an infinite Care or 
 Goodness, which the higher forms of piety assume, 
 convince us that the soul has in itself the germs of 
 a spiritual infinitude, of a limitless expansion and 
 growth. Man is probably first impressed with a 
 material, an external immensity. He cannot fix 
 limits to space. He is obliged to imagine worlds 
 beyond those he sees. He cannot measure time. 
 He perceives that he knows but a little of the un 
 bounded truth and science the universe contains. 
 Thus do the externals of the creation impress man, 
 and the sense of the Infinite unfolds under their 
 influence. Nature is from the Infinite. How, there 
 fore, can it fail to suggest the idea of Infinity ? But 
 man alone is able to receive it. He alone perceives 
 a universe. He has that within him to which the ex 
 ternal infinitude addresses itself, a mind partaking of 
 the faculties of Him whence the immensity of nature 
 sprung; and which, being kindred to the Original 
 Infinite, awakes to and expands under the infinitude 
 of the creation. There is also an infinite of mind, 
 of spirit, to which man rises in his higher contempla 
 tions ; and if the Infinite of God, of which the crea 
 tion is but the partial display, is immortal and death 
 less, then must the kindred nature in man which 
 looks up to the Infinite, which calmly looks out 
 upon its sublimity, be immortal also. The more we 
 examine the human soul, the more striking and 
 numerous do the evidences become, that it was made 
 in the image of God ; and, as we think, every 
 evidence that proves the being of God, and the con- 
 
 28*
 
 330 THE IMMORTAL LIFE. 
 
 stitutional alliance of man's nature with his, is 
 unanswerable testimony in favor of human immor 
 tality. For the educational circumstances which 
 surround our nature create nothing of the soul, but 
 simply develop its inherent powers. 
 
 3. I proceed to state another evidence of human 
 immortality which I find in the existence of the hope 
 which affirms it. There is a vast hope in the world. 
 In numberless forms of sensible imagery, it has found 
 expression. No large portions of the human race 
 are without it ; and it has been generally believed, 
 that under every sky its light has dawned on the 
 human heart. Where the Hebrew and the Christian 
 Scriptures have never been read or known, its power 
 and greatness are revealed. It beats in the heart of 
 the race, and glows in the consolations of the world. 
 It is always an element of every religion. It is vast, 
 and its roots are in the soul itself. 
 
 Now as a phenomenon of the soul is this hope to 
 be contemplated. How came there to grow on the 
 tree of humanity such fruit as this ? Some unison 
 must exist between the two. " We gather not grapes 
 from thorns." Man is the only being on this planet 
 from whose nature such hope is evolved ; and from 
 the natural union which must for ever exist between 
 a cause and its effect, we are obliged to recognize 
 in the greatness of the hope an antecedent and cor 
 responding greatness in the soul which bears it. The 
 tree is not less than its fruit, nor is the fountain less 
 than its streams. 
 
 A great hope irresistibly implies a great capacity. 
 The bee, so to speak, may hope to build its cell, and
 
 THE IMMORTAL LIFE. 331 
 
 it has the power to do so ; but it has no ability to 
 hope, any more than it has to realize the erection of 
 a palace, or the solution of a mathematical problem. 
 Here is a general law. It belongs to all the races 
 endowed with life and voluntary motion. The Crea 
 tor has caused a connection to exist between the 
 power of expectancy and the power of accomplish 
 ment in all the living, active races below man ^ and 
 we have reason to think that the same law includes 
 him. God has given to no race a hope beyond its 
 proper sphere. And the same just and benevolent 
 law applied to him teaches us, that the grandeur and 
 vastness of human hope are corresponded to by a 
 similar grandeur and vastness of human nature. If 
 the immortal life had been too great for man to 
 realize, he had been too small to have ever hoped it. 
 Human hope never was, and never can be, greater 
 than the human soul. 
 
 I know it may be said, that the particular hopes 
 of men in the present life often prove impractical ; 
 that they hope for more than they can reach. This 
 is true. Still I hold that the premises heretofore laid 
 down are unembarrassed by this admission. For 
 the methods coming between the particular expecta 
 tion and its fulfilment may be badly chosen, whilst 
 the wisdom of necessary experience may be unpos 
 sessed ; whereas the mere fact of a future existence 
 is not dependent on human methods. But even here 
 men do not hope impossibilities. It will be found 
 that they do not hope against their knowledge ; and 
 that, though ordained to learn the extent of their 
 powers by effort, there is a generally true corre-
 
 THE IMMORTAL LIFE, 
 
 spondence between what individuals hope to accom 
 plish, and what human power wisely applied may 
 achieve. It is impossible that an intelligent man 
 should expect to carry the Alps, or to do any thing 
 beyond the reach of human skill. But it is the race 
 that hopes in immortality ; and if there is creative 
 wisdom in the manner in which Deity balances the 
 nature and hopeful tendency of the portions of the 
 creation we know, if there is a sound connection be 
 tween a moral cause and its result, then is the exist 
 ence of so vast a hope in human history an evidence 
 of the capacity of human nature to realize it. Indeed, 
 we may suppose that all universal convictions are 
 grounded in truth, though their particular forms and 
 manner may partake of the weaknesses which apper 
 tain to the various educational states of the human 
 mind. 
 
 4. This doctrine is also confirmed by the supreme 
 value of mind. If we raise the question, Which is 
 worth most, material substance and possession, or the 
 immaterial mind ? our answer, whether negative or 
 affirmative, decides in favor of the supremacy of 
 mental worth, from the fact that it is mind alone that 
 comprehends and decides, that compares and judges, 
 that accumulates and governs the material posses 
 sions. That which decides and governs is certainly 
 first. If we contemplate nature as the work of Infi 
 nite Mind, what does it declare more plainly than 
 the idea of this supremacy of mental worth as prior 
 to, and causative of, all other worth ? If we view 
 the various arts of man, his governments, sciences, 
 and right methods of life, as proceeding from his
 
 THE IMMORTAL LIFE. 
 
 mental powers, the same thought is permanently 
 confirmed. What means this veneration to the past ? 
 It is but homage to ancient mind. What signifies 
 this deep reverence of great men, of good men ? 
 What is taught by the glory of sages and of martyrs ? 
 Why is the memorial of virtue everlasting ? What 
 is implied in the worth of character, in the value of 
 freedom and education ? All such questions are 
 based on the principle assumed ; for the great man 
 is but the excellence and vigor of mental nature 
 freely manifested. The good man, the sage, are but 
 living statements that mind rightly acting is the only 
 wealth. Character is only a name for a mental 
 state. Education and freedom must for ever derive 
 their dignity and importance from the worth of the 
 nature to be educated and to be freed. Where, I 
 ask, can you place yourself, either in imagination or 
 person, in all this universe, and not read this sublime 
 lesson, the supreme value of mind ? Where, amongst 
 this world's worships, struggles, ruins, ambitions, 
 enterprises, can you find a place for your foot to 
 rest, that does not preach to you this thought ? 
 There is not an inch of inhabited space that does not 
 teach it. 
 
 p 
 
 This view, however, as an argument for the soul's 
 immortality, grows stronger when considered in con 
 nection with what we most assuredly know, the 
 economy of the material world. All the laws acd 
 agencies here are conservative. Nothing is lost. 
 Substance never dies. Elements never perish. The 
 administrative economy of the universe has never 
 allowed one particle of its material wealth to be
 
 334 THE IMMORTAL LIFE. 
 
 lost. The play of life and death is but the changing 
 modes through which the Infinite Wisdom contrives 
 to make the capital of nature most variously useful. 
 Since, therefore, the conservative policy of the uni 
 verse, so far as we may know its laws and agencies, 
 is well established, since economy always implies 
 that the highest value is not Avasted, and since all 
 things conspire to teach that the supreme worth of 
 man consists in the mind he exercises, I ask if it 
 is not strangely absurd to suppose that the conserva 
 tive policy of the Highest should for ever retain 
 every particle of his material being, whilst it pours 
 out into eternal wastefulness and nonentity all that 
 belongs to his intelligent and moral nature ? Will 
 that policy allow all virtue, wisdom, character, to be 
 lost by the death-agency, when, in every other in 
 stance, that agency dissolves without destroying the 
 elements ? Will it waste its gold, and retain its 
 dust ? Elements material, once dissolved, may 
 re-appear in other forms. But, if mind dissolves, 
 how may it re-appear ? Inasmuch as matter cannot 
 absorb and incorporate its elements of thought and 
 affection into its own growth through any power it 
 has, it follows that a total extinction or a total con 
 tinuation of the powers crowns the last event in 
 life's mysterious drama. And, if the former fact 
 occurs, it not only exhibits a waste of the supreme 
 value, but it stands alone, unrepresented by a single 
 symbol or fact of the whole natural world. That 
 the only part of our nature which contains the capa 
 city of intelligence, of hope, of virtue, that which is 
 lord of the flesh and the originator of the plans of
 
 THE IMMORTAL LIFE. 335 
 
 life, should be doomed to annihilation, whilst each 
 particle of the materialism it governs is for ever pre 
 served, and this in a universe whose every law, 
 beauty, truth, order, agency, addresses the mind as 
 its great and practical end, is to us the most un- 
 philosophically absurd of all absurdities. 
 
 5. We are led by what is more certain than logic 
 to expect that there is an end, an ultimatum pertaining 
 to human life, to which the present varieties of edu 
 cational circumstances are but means. I say that 
 we are thus led by what is deeper and better than 
 logic. For the very logic of existence, of simple 
 acts and conditions, thus leads us. Every voluntary 
 action and series of actions are supposed to imply a 
 definite end. Even the conscious joys and sportive 
 acts of childhood fulfil an end, which is the health 
 and growth of the child, though he may purpose no 
 such result. We find by experience that the same 
 is true of our unconscious movements, when we are 
 least aware of having a purpose. Taught by this 
 real and true philosophy, which God weaves into his 
 works and into the very conditions of life, we rise to 
 the inquiry, What is the end to which this great array 
 of means ministers ? What is the end of life, of 
 man ? taking for granted all the time that life and 
 nature have an end, that it cannot be otherwise. In 
 answering these questions, we are assisted, 1. By 
 the Scripture declaration that God has given man 
 dominion over his works, over all that is on the land 
 and in the sea. 2. By the fact of experience and 
 observation, that man, by his energy and wisdom, 
 proves himself to be the chief being, the greater than
 
 336 THE IMMORTAL LIFE. 
 
 all the elements and races surrounding him. 3. We 
 learn in the analysis of human development, that the 
 external universe and the circle of surrounding 
 circumstances have contributed to the formation and 
 growth of mind as their chief end. We can name 
 no end so high as this, to which all things have so 
 powerfully yet so silently conspired. Therefore we 
 rest in the assurance that man is the chief end of all 
 this array of means, of earth and seas, of law and 
 order, of opportunities and teachings, of temptations, 
 sorrows, joys. In him is the end. All the spiritual 
 powers unfold under the infinitely various ministry 
 of the world of nature, society, and events. And 
 when we witness a few great minds, a few good 
 men who could die for mankind in the cause of 
 truth and righteousness, we feel satisfied that the 
 great demand of reason is answered, which requires 
 that the end should justify the means, that it should 
 be as great as they. 
 
 But it is only on the ground of the immortal life 
 that this is true. If death operates to the final ex 
 tinction of all the lights that God and nature have 
 kindled on earth ; if it annihilates all thought, love, 
 hope, memory, consciousness, being, what is the 
 permanent result of this vast and sublime machinery 
 of means ? No permanent end is accomplished. A 
 plan whose formations and annihilations are equal 
 must end, if end it may, in nothing ; whilst its end 
 less operation, if that may be supposed, could only 
 tend to exhibit for ever the singular phenomenon of 
 destroying all that it builds, of making the creative 
 and the annihilative agencies equal in their action,
 
 THE IMMORTAL LIFE. 337 
 
 so far as respects the highest nature and powers, on 
 Avhich they operate. The architect who should for 
 ever build magnificent temples, but who should bum 
 them to ashes always as soon as a series of them had 
 been completed, Avould somewhat justly symbolize 
 the plan of the universe respecting man, provided 
 there is no continuity of mind and being beyond the 
 present life. I would therefore believe in the im 
 mortal life, because its denial not only contradicts a 
 desire and need of my nature, but because it ascribes 
 the gross folly I have named to the universe ; because 
 it denies to it an ultimatum corresponding to the 
 greatness, variety, and richness of its many means 
 and influences. But how gloriously the scene 
 changes, when immortality is believed ! Then all 
 things are as seriously prophetic as the soul itself. 
 
 6. If, as I have shown, the soul, as constituted of 
 God, is the germ and basis of its destiny, then must 
 the great fact, whatever it is, be manifested in some 
 clear phenomena and satisfactory signs. There are 
 many ends, doubtless, for which each thing exists. 
 But nature, in all its forms, bears some clear evidences 
 of these. The light bears witness to its end. So do 
 the air, water, earth, cold, heat, attraction, indeed 
 all the elements and natural agencies indicate many 
 of the cardinal ends for which they exist and operate. 
 The blossoms of the tree predict future fruit. The 
 eye is the prophecy of light, and the ear of sound, 
 before objects are seen, or sounds are heard. The 
 wings of the bird predict its flight, long before it may 
 leave the parent-nest to try the air. True to such 
 analogies does the greater nature put forth its signs 
 
 29
 
 338 THE IMMORTAL LIFE. 
 
 of greater destiny. No great purpose seems to be 
 unindicated, when the agencies that are to fulfil it 
 are understood. As leaves and blossoms on the 
 trees of June, humanity, under every sky, puts forth 
 these strong and beautiful prophecies. The mere 
 thought of immortality as human is one of these. 
 Man cannot send a thought into any subject that is 
 above the sphere of his nature, no more, indeed, than 
 may the sea fish, the forest animal, the sky bird. 
 No nature can get an idea above its range. The 
 desire of endless life, deeper than all else, is in the 
 heart. We may suppose the animal loves to exist. 
 But man alone has the thought, desire, and belief of 
 everlasting being, illumined by a clear knowledge 
 of certain death, and many probable sorrows between 
 himself and it. These phenomena point to a future 
 world as plainly as rivers tend to their seas. 
 
 Deep also in the soul's depths is the sentiment of 
 goodness, of justice, as being supreme. In their 
 certain and final triumphs we unconsciously confide. 
 This confidence is the central power of all religious 
 trust, under the wrongs and evils of life. Hence 
 justice predicts another state as necessary to the 
 completion of its own work. Goodness provides 
 satisfying objects for all the natural desires. " Thou 
 openest thine hand, and satisfiest the desire of every 
 living thing."* When we consider this system of 
 natural wants and adequate satisfactions, and think 
 for a moment of the deep thirst implanted in our 
 natures for continued existence, and of the unper- 
 
 * Ps. cxlv. 16.
 
 THE IMMORTAL LIFE. 339 
 
 fected condition of all requiring a future and a 
 progressive life, must not the clouds of scepticism 
 disappear before the verified goodness of the pro 
 vident Creator ? He who has provided for the 
 body's thirst has not neglected the deepest craving 
 of consciousness. Moral fear points the same way, 
 Its blackest hoverings are prophetic. A latent feel 
 ing in each and all of us that we are connected with 
 distant periods of future time, time evidently beyond 
 the limits of our appointed years, is to this purpose. 
 You speak of an age centuries in advance. Your 
 hearer knows that the dust will rest on his coffin 
 long before its first thought shall be revealed. Yet he 
 involuntarily feels interested in the time anticipated; 
 nor can he, without violation to all that is natural in 
 his mind and feelings, associate personal nonentity 
 with the distant age. Why is the soul interested in all 
 time ? Why, in extending the mental research into 
 distant space among other worlds and systems of 
 worlds, does a real and lively interest spring up in 
 those far-off portions of space ? We know the pre 
 sent life is necessarily confined to a small spot. If 
 this life is all, why does this interest in the distant, 
 in all space, so far as we know it, so unbidden spring 
 up ? I know of but one answer to these questions, 
 which is the soul's immortality. It belongs to all time 
 and to all space, and therefore, when it contemplates, 
 must be conscious of this illimitable interest. How 
 may a spiritual descendant of Him who pervades 
 this boundless space, and frames its worlds, fail to 
 respond to its grandeur, to feel an interest in all 
 His manifestations ? Seeds cannot long be dormant
 
 THE IMMORTAL LIFE. 
 
 in rich soils. The reality founded in our nature must 
 in many ways unfold. 
 
 7. The idea I seek to establish is greatly strength 
 ened by the law of progress which belongs to the 
 human mind. This is one of the greatest distinc 
 tions, if not the first, that may be stated in the separa 
 tion of human nature from all other races, and orders 
 of life and intelligence. Man alone enlarges his 
 science by permanent acquisition. The most skilful 
 of the animal races knew as much ages ago as to 
 day. No one truth has been added. If they ever 
 learn from human training, that learning is never 
 communicated to their kind. But man multiplies 
 his sciences indefinitely. No limits can be imagined 
 to the number and varieties of his thoughts. This 
 age has discoveries unknown to the ancients. Re 
 ligion, ethics, hope, language, are great and distin 
 guishing attributes ; in all of which, man vindicates 
 his separation from and superiority to every living 
 race. 
 
 He has an idea of perfection in every department 
 of action that is far above his accomplishment, which 
 promotes the progress for which he is designed. 
 But who, I ask, has fully come up to his idea ? 
 What artist ever testified that he had perfectly ex 
 pressed his divinest thought ? What saint, however 
 eminent his virtue, could say that he has always lived 
 his highest light ? The best of us, all of us, fall 
 below our standards of perfection. In the myriad 
 races of animal life, we see that perfect skill is 
 realized. No lofty ideal shades their performance. 
 The lark sings its entire power of harmony ; but, in
 
 THE IMMORTAL LIFE. 341 
 
 man's song, he always knows what is diviner than 
 his utterance. The yearnings of the spirit after an 
 unfound good, the dissatisfaction which sends its 
 shadows on the manly brow, the incomplete charac 
 ter of the best of lives, predict another sphere. Other 
 races mature in the present state : our own does not. 
 Millions are in the possession of the richest treasures 
 of undeveloped capacity, whilst the law of a perpet 
 ual progression pervades their being. This towering 
 up of the idea of a perfection above all actualization, 
 as mountains over the plain, viewed in connection 
 with the obscured and slumbering wealth of the 
 undeveloped powers, pleads strongly for a new state, 
 a new world, where human nature may fulfil its 
 ideal, and unfold the wealth of its whole capacity. 
 
 It is remarked of the best minds, that they reach 
 no state above which their aspirations do not tend. 
 Each height discloses a new. The fact that we may 
 conceive such a progress, that each new state always 
 predicts one above and beyond it, is evidence of an 
 endless life ; whilst this progress, unlike vast indi 
 vidual accumulation of earthly means, tends to en 
 rich, not to impoverish, the many. 
 
 Thus far I have sought witnesses in the soul itself. 
 It seems to me, that the more this nature is examined, 
 the more marked will be its distinction from all other 
 natures. More and more will it appear as the end 
 of the creation. More and more will it appear that 
 man's recognitions, in different ages, of the immortal, 
 of the ceaseless mind, in the visible phenomena of 
 the universe, as well as his worship of the great 
 Original, justify the conclusion of human immortality. 
 29*
 
 342 
 
 THE IMMORTAL LIFE. 
 
 The respect commanded even by the human form 
 owes its origin to the idea, that it is the temple 
 and. home of a manhood, a mind that is of immeasur 
 able worth. Hence the sacredness of persons over 
 other organizations of matter. The ocean-like capa 
 city of happiness unfilled, the facts of sorrow and 
 remorse, as well as all the diviner aspirations, with 
 united voice speak of the immortal life. To this 
 truth there are witnesses awful and sublime. The 
 late astronomer of France gazed a long time in the 
 night's silence, watching the perturbations of the then 
 most distant planet known. He saw that these were 
 very great ; so great, said he, as to evidence a world 
 beyond it. Thus convinced, he continued to con 
 centrate his vision, until his eye was filled with the 
 ray of a new world beyond. Thus do these trem 
 blings of humanity in the adverse winds, these sway- 
 ings to and fro in error and sorrow and sin, intimate, 
 in the calm distance of time, another world. 
 
 In the simple fact of worship, in the sense of the 
 infinite, in the existence of so vast a hope in human 
 history, in the supreme value of mind, in the ultima 
 tum which the ministries of nature imply, in the 
 signs which the soul puts forth in the form of thought, 
 belief, and desire, and in the law of illimitable pro 
 gress which the Creator has written on the human 
 spirit, I have found the evidences of this great trust. 
 To me they are satisfactory. The voice that gives 
 the great support is the voice of religion. It always 
 includes immortality. As men have too long looked 
 abroad and to foreign sources for the kingdom of 
 heaven, so have they for immortality. Man slowly
 
 THE IMMORTAL LIFE. 343 
 
 learns to seek the fountain in himself. Perhaps the 
 chief power that assures the majority of the race in 
 this hope is one that most could not well define, a 
 consciousness not to be perfectly stated in argument, 
 resulting from the nature of the spiritual powers as 
 being everlasting. The might of this sentiment is 
 sufficiently attested in the fact that faith has tri 
 umphed over the appearances of death, the infirmi 
 ties of nature, and the various sophistry which per 
 verted talent and genius have sometimes arrayed 
 against it. 
 
 But there is mystery, which God has permitted to 
 overhang this subject, far more interesting than exact 
 demonstration. No Scriptures dissipate this. With 
 great light shining on the fact, we know not the 
 modes. Futurity is always mystery. We know 
 not to-morrow ; still to-morrow comes. 
 
 That mind reaches its meridian, and then seems to 
 decline, has favored the spirit of doubt on this sub 
 ject. But this is the argument of appearance mostly ; 
 for the failing bodily organization is the manifesting 
 and operative medium of mind, and, whatever power 
 the mind itself might possess, its manifestations must 
 partake of the weakness of the instrumentalities. We 
 know mind only by its phenomena. The mightiest 
 exhibit inefficient action, when adequate instrument 
 alities are withheld. I claim that this phenomenon 
 does not justify the conclusion that mind is without 
 power ; that, through a stronger and better manifest 
 ing medium, it may not display a far greater vigor 
 than ever before. 
 
 The dense shadows of death, as they fall on the
 
 344 THE IMMORTAL LIFE. 
 
 last hour, enveloping in mystery the departure of 
 man, serve to darken the brightness of hope to many, 
 and I doubt not to play an illusion on the senses. 
 For, whilst we see the living expire, and look on the 
 lifeless form, the illusion of the senses seems to say 
 that the whole man is there held under conquest of 
 death ; whilst it is plain to reason that no man is 
 there, that only the forsaken temple remains. " Why, 
 then," cries the spirit of doubt, " do I not see my 
 friend as he departs ? Why are not the evidences 
 of his conscious leaving left upon me ? Why is he 
 still unseen ? " I answer that the senses are material, 
 and therefore can become the medium of vision only 
 to material objects. The eye never saw a mind. 
 Strictly speaking, the friend, the real departed one, 
 was never seen when among us ; only his form was 
 known to the senses. Why, then, demand what 
 has always been impossible to the capacity of the 
 material vision ? God is unknown to the senses. 
 The greatest agencies of nature are invisible. I say 
 not that this silence and mystery and darkness that 
 gather over physical dissolution has ever caused 
 much permanent doubt ; for the faith of immortality 
 has been strong as adamant in the midst of these 
 appearances. The soul has triumphed over them ; 
 whilst the scenes of the last hour have often confirmed 
 the belief, that the connection between the natural 
 and the spiritual worlds is far more real and intimate 
 than they had before supposed. 
 
 I would offer one remark on an objection often 
 urged, that man is too weak a being to expect so 
 great a good as immortality ; that vanity is implied in
 
 THE IMMORTAL LIFE. 
 
 345 
 
 the entertainment of so great a prospect. I have 
 already spoken a word on the necessary corre 
 spondence between a great nature and a great hope. 
 I Avould now ask, What power is it in the objector 
 that thus decides ? I inquire of him, What is it in 
 you that becomes so conscious of the vastness of 
 time, of the greatness of the universe, of the great 
 ness of the idea of an endless life, as to enable you 
 through comparison to pronounce on the smallness 
 of man, and the disparity between his nature and 
 the greatness you have sketched ? Is it a foreign 
 power independent of yourself, or is it your own 
 mind ? Your own mind it must be that sketches 
 out the vast idea, that comprehends both the great 
 ness, and the frailty from which the comparison is 
 drawn, and the verdict is rendered. And is the na 
 ture that may feel this greatness otherwise than one 
 with it ? Impossible ! He that may be inspired, or 
 even overwhelmed, by his sense of the grandeur of 
 the universe, of time, eternity, wisdom, and progress, 
 gives proof, that never can be removed, of his natural 
 alliance and brotherhood with these greatnesses. I 
 am inclined to think that the erroneous conclusion, 
 that immortality is too great for man, proceeds from 
 the circumstance, that all who thus judge only see 
 a part of his nature, and regard it as the whole. 
 That which makes him one with the greatness that 
 lies in the standard of comparison is unseen. Per 
 haps there is a natural illusion to be avoided here. 
 For as no one beholds his entire person in a mirror, 
 neither does any one see his entire mind reflected 
 before him. If that which sees may be distinguished
 
 346 THE IMMORTAL LIFE. 
 
 from what it sees, then only a part of one's self is 
 usually imaged forth in the ordinary effort of intro 
 spection ; whilst it escapes notice that the compre 
 hensive power and elements of the highest greatness 
 man conceives and knows, is as truly a part of him 
 self as are the frailties with which he contrasts them. 
 He who reposes the oak in the delicate fibres of the 
 acorn has reposed immortality in the infant soul. 
 Immortality too great ! God and goodness are infi 
 nite. Too great, do you say ? Then account, if you 
 can, for man's capacity to conceive of it, and to 
 judge that it is too great. 
 
 Perhaps there is no idea more intimately con 
 nected with this subject than the idea of a spiritual 
 world. For the practical question will be asked, 
 Where are the departed ? What world receives the 
 dying millions ? Where are our friends ? And, 
 though there is no wisdom Heaven has revealed 
 through which particular localities may be assigned, 
 I am inclined to think that God has not left us 
 without some means of forming an idea of the spirit 
 ual world, notwithstanding we are surrounded by a 
 material universe and clothed with a body of material 
 senses. It is certain that the Scriptures announce 
 such a world. In nations of various creeds and 
 religions, this idea has extensively dawned. Perhaps, 
 however, there is no symbol of this truth so perfect 
 as man himself, a being who images God and the 
 two worlds which proceed from him. In man the 
 natural and the spiritual invisibly and harmoniously 
 unite to form one being. The one is seen, the other 
 is unseen. So is there around us a seen and an
 
 THE IMMORTAL LIFE. 347 
 
 unseen world, harmoniously uniting into one uni 
 verse. As mind finds no obstruction in the material 
 body, neither does the spiritual world meet any 
 obstacle from the natural. As we would not local 
 ize the soul to any part of the bodily organism, nei 
 ther would we localize the spiritual world to any 
 part of the material world. It is everywhere and 
 unconfined. As the material senses cannot witness 
 any of the purely mental facts, neither can they 
 discover the facts of the higher sphere, the beings of 
 the spirit- world. As the spiritual nature in man is 
 greater than its material form, so is the spiritual 
 world greater than the natural world. That world 
 is unfitted to man as the higher stage of his progress, 
 unless it is greater than this, as progress is always an 
 advance from less to greater. As the human form 
 dimly images the human mind, so may we suppose 
 that the natural world is at least a shadowy likeness 
 of the one higher and greater. Indeed, this likeness 
 must exist as the condition of all preparatory influ 
 ence from the present state, since, in the education 
 of man, it is clearly seen that like alone prepares for 
 like. The student could not enter upon the sciences 
 of the- university, if there was no likeness between 
 them and the knowledge acquired in previous stu 
 dies. The idea which lies at the bottom of all that 
 may be called preparation is a similitude between the 
 preparing means and that at which the preparation 
 aims. The present state, therefore, as a whole, its 
 natural scenes, its truths, indeed all that enters into 
 a true education of man, is preparatory. All things 
 are meant as tributary influences to the immortal end.
 
 348 THE IMMORTAL LIFE. 
 
 But there remains a great and an awful truth to 
 be stated, which comes within the dominion of the 
 will. The mere immortality of an endless being, to 
 which the natural evidences refer, is an ordination of 
 the Creator w r ith which human volitions have nothing 
 to do, no more, indeed, than in ruling the tides, or 
 the electric fire of heaven. But, in the formation of 
 character, we know that man is to lay its foundations 
 for himself; that it is through the sublime energy of 
 his own will and settled purpose that he makes all 
 things conspire to his wisdom, virtue, and happiness. 
 He therefore makes his real glory and shame for the 
 present ; nor may we, without violence to the supre 
 macy of virtue in man's happiness, and to the moral 
 connection which unites the successive stages of 
 human existence with each other, deny the presence 
 of this fact in determining the glory of the future 
 life. Endless existence is a great truth ; but an 
 immortality of pure affections and holy employments 
 is far greater. And, since the two states are not 
 isolated, but most nearly and intimately connected, 
 since every period of life sheds its moulding influ 
 ence over that which follows, and since freedom and 
 energy of will are the chief agency of character, I 
 ask, with what reverence, care, and faithfulness 
 should each and all form their character now ? For 
 every element in it prophetically looks onward into 
 the infinite distance of time. 
 
 . This truth of immortality, though woven into the 
 life of the world, exerts too little power in its 
 practice. This is not a speculative truth, but has 
 the weight of worlds. It should awaken a deep
 
 THE IMMORTAL LIFE. 349 
 
 self-respect. It should render the rights of the 
 humblest as sacred as the immutable throne. It 
 should dissolve every oppression on the face of the 
 earth. What ! enslave a being who is one with 
 endless time, and in whom the immortal germs are 
 unfolding ! Every tyrant on the face of the earth 
 denies the immortality of man, when he forces him 
 into chains. Human nature never was, and never 
 may be, sacred to any form of oppression. This 
 truth is the reproof of every wrong. It is the friend 
 of education, of all sound and healthy development. 
 It is the shame of avarice and sensuality. It is the 
 enthronement, in human affairs, of worship and of 
 moral right. It is the inspiration of every great and 
 deep faith. This problem of immortality has often 
 been bathed in tears and solved in love. How, then, 
 is it speculative ? He who lives this truth, so subor 
 dinates all things to the growth and perfection of the 
 soul from which he lives as to possess a repose of 
 peace, from which the external adversities cannot 
 cast him down. On this serene mountain-top we 
 would stay, overlooking the dark waves that inter 
 vene between its base and the green isle of being, 
 Avhose light glimmers in the distance beyond. 
 
 30
 
 3-50 
 
 AX ADDRESS 
 
 OX HUMAN FREEDOM AND RIGHTS, AND THE 
 ELEMENTS OF NATIONAL GREATNESS : 
 
 Delirfred on Fast Day, Marck 21, 1848. 
 
 LIFE and nature are never standing still. To-day 
 the wave of great events rolls high, and in many 
 places the extraordinary rivets the attention of the 
 civilized world. The armies of the North have 
 rolled the tide of their victories back upon the heart 
 of Mexico. Months past have trumpeted the tri 
 umphs of Saxon energy in our ears ; while thousands, 
 in the pride common to man, have rejoiced that their 
 country's banner of burning stripes and ever-multi 
 plying stars is waving from the towers of the city 
 of the Aztecs. This day the most solemn debates 
 absorb the attention of Congress. The rumor of 
 revolt reaches us from Vienna. The enthusiastic 
 French once more wave like harvests in the winds^ 
 as the passion of liberty is stirred in their fervent 
 and changing nature. Their venerable monarch has 
 fled before the storm, found refuge in the dominions 
 of the English Queen ; whilst the magnificent Tuil- 
 eries, so long the home of royalty, is now proclaimed 
 a shop of industry. Government starts up in a 
 republican form. Italy, Austria, and England know
 
 HUMAN FREEDOM AND RIGHTS. 351 
 
 the unwelcome hoverings of fear at this example. 
 Indeed, the monarchs of Europe tremble, lest these 
 savage winds, in their wild play, should blow off the 
 crowns of royalty from their heads. Are not these, 
 fellow-citizens, important and serious times ? 
 
 But this crisis, serious as it is, stands not alone. 
 The great political movements and changes, both of 
 the Old and the New World, have, for many years, 
 united to reveal more distinctly the idea of man's 
 individual Avorth, and the inherent dignity of human 
 nature, which truth is now and for ever the basis of 
 all republican institutions. Whatever may be the 
 temporary evils that surround it, I rejoice to witness 
 the general dawn of this idea. It proclaims some 
 actual elevation of the people, that they are conscious 
 of its truth ; and to its thorough comprehension do I 
 look for those successive changes which shall so 
 mould the governments of the earth as to make them 
 the instruments of human elevation and general 
 happiness. 
 
 The origin, genius, and success of our own govern 
 ment at once lay open to us the problem of human 
 freedom, of human rights; and it becomes us to 
 study the elements of a true national greatness, that 
 its future character may be the happy fulfilment of 
 the prophecies which cluster about its youth. 
 
 Indeed it is not strange that a class of political 
 views more liberal than those of the Old World 
 should have sprung up in the communities of the 
 United States. All the elements that form such 
 communities have favored that result ; for men, com 
 ing from different parts of foreign countries, naturally
 
 352 HUMAN FREEDOM AND RIGHTS. 
 
 brought the most liberal thoughts of the countries 
 whence they came. The fact that all nations are 
 contributing of their inhabitants to the formation of 
 this, speaks well for a liberal philosophy, for wider 
 views in religion, government, all things. The ag 
 gregate formed of the several parts must be greater 
 than either of the parts. Oppression abroad, in the 
 first instance, naturally drove the liberal away ; and, 
 since the government is known by its free principles, 
 it becomes the choice of the more liberal in foreign 
 lands. The race, I think, mentally and physically, 
 will improve from the multiplicity of foreign elements 
 mingling together. Moreover, there is a distinct, 
 marked, and powerful genius in the American nation, 
 which, while it opens the arms of generous embrace 
 to all nations, will never part with its individuality. 
 It transforms and Americanizes what it receives from 
 abroad, as each flower and tree transforms whatever 
 it receives, into the particular nature of its own par 
 ticular life. Thus goes on the progress of our 
 country, combining the two great elements of politi 
 cal superiority, eclecticism and transformation. By 
 the former, we have the greatest good yielded by 
 the Old World : by the latter, we have it not as a 
 foreign good, but as the nutriment of an original, 
 American life. 
 
 In a sense deeper than our national relation should 
 we feel that we belong to God and to mankind. 
 Yet the national feeling is natural ; and the love of 
 the race is properly gratified, when a nation is formed 
 after such ideas as render it an example and a benefit 
 to mankind. And for this nation may be claimed
 
 HUMAN FREEDOM AND RIGHTS. 353 
 
 the honor of having reared its monument on the true 
 foundation of human rights, a foundation which 
 had never been so truly and thoroughly acknow 
 ledged before. Man, as he is by the will and crea 
 tion of God, is acknowledged in the Declaration of 
 Independence as the nature in which inalienable 
 rights inhere. Our fathers did not attempt to give 
 the philosophy of the fact. They saw and asserted 
 it, leaving the great truth to shine in its own light, 
 and to find a response in the heart of humanity, and 
 in the voice of other ages. 
 
 There is a science of human rights which is more 
 sacred and eternal than human legislation, whether 
 coming from the despot or the multitude. And, 
 whatever this science may be, it is not for one man, 
 but for all men. In nature there are not the barriers 
 men have instituted. He who proves one man to be 
 a religious and an immortal nature, proves this also 
 for the race. One cannot be separated from the all 
 to which he belongs. As the science of astronomy 
 is founded in the nature and relations of the stars, 
 so is the science of human rights founded in the 
 nature and relations of man. In answer to the ques 
 tion, Whence flow the rights of man ? I think the 
 true answer must be, From the nature of man. For 
 his nature is the source of his relations, duties, and 
 wants. This view evidently covers the whole ground, 
 since all human relation, duty, and want have their 
 origin in what man is. 
 
 But this natural and simple view of human rights 
 has long been overlooked. Rights have been re 
 garded as the grant of kings, and as the creation of 
 
 30*
 
 354 HUMAN FREEDOM AND RIGHTS. 
 
 law. But might we not as well ascribe the creation 
 of truth to him who utters it ? May we not as 
 wisely ascribe the origin of the constellations to him 
 who, merely beholding their order, unfolds it to 
 others ? For, man being the end of all legislation, 
 the reason and fitness of laws must be discovered in 
 him. These precede true legislation. The fact 
 that man exists, proves his right to existence. This 
 fact is the voice of the highest will. There is no 
 power above that by which existence occurs. So, 
 indeed, the existence of any faculty proves the right 
 to its exercise. For why should a faculty exist, ex 
 cept for use, and for proper use ? The existence of 
 a want, whether of mind or body, proves that the 
 satisfaction of the want may be sought. For why 
 should there be a want of nature, except to be satis 
 fied, and properly satisfied ? My right to use my 
 limbs is founded in the fact that I have limbs, and 
 that their use is necessary to my existence and hap 
 piness. The right is mine, for these are mine. My 
 own will they instantly obey ; but the will of the 
 mightiest princes cannot stir a joint or a finger, till 
 my own gives them bidding. Another cannot see, 
 hear, or feel for me. God could give to man no 
 plainer proof of his right to enjoy the beauties of 
 nature than he has done in giving him eyes, and a 
 capacity to know and relish the beautiful. No higher 
 right to the freedom of speech can be found than the 
 simple existence of the faculty of speech. Thought 
 seeks utterance ; and speech is its medium. The 
 power and the necessity of thought in each individual 
 prove the right to think. The existence of a free
 
 HUMAN FREEDOM AND RIGHTS. 355 
 
 thinking nature is the supreme argument, overthrow 
 ing all despotism imposed on its freedom. \Vlien 
 your own thoughts kindle, words spontaneously flow. 
 Your volition easily moves your tongue. But where 
 is the tyrant who can wield it for you to the utter 
 ance of one poor syllable ? If God had designed a 
 prince, a priest, or a noble to have dictated your 
 speech, he would have established an intimate con 
 nection between his will and your power of utterance. 
 The tyrant cannot move your real will, though, by 
 the array of his power, you may be overawed and 
 obey. Your capacity to know and find truth estab 
 lishes your right to seek it. Your instinctive reve 
 rence for it, your power of carrying it into practice, 
 and its adaptation to the good of your nature, prove 
 your right to obey it. Heaven could bestow no 
 brighter intimation of its design, that man should 
 explore the varied fields of truth around him, than it 
 has done in the gift of a strong desire, and an ample 
 capacity to know. We have a right to obey the 
 laws of our being. Indeed we have no right to dis 
 obey them. The love of society, the love of the beau 
 tiful, and the power to act, prove the abstract right 
 of every man to enjoy society, to relish the beau 
 tiful, and also to act. Man's nature adapts him to the 
 outward universe. His wants crave its supplies. And 
 his abstract right to the earth is apparent in the fact 
 that it exists for him, that he is able to subject it to 
 his wants. Primitive deeds were written in the consti 
 tution. There is a law of humanity which prompts 
 accumulation, and what one honestly acquires is as 
 much his as the law that prompted the acquisition.
 
 356 HUMAN FREEDOM AND RIGHTS. 
 
 The character of each person is built by himself, and 
 is therefore his own. He has a right to it just as he 
 has built it ; and, as his love of respect is innate, he 
 who slanders his character robs him of a happiness 
 which is lawfully his. The person is a part of our 
 nature, and the consciousness of each is that his 
 person is his ; and no one may injure its health and 
 life, without violating his rights, and the fundamental 
 laws of human happiness, founded in the nature of 
 each and every man. The right of worship is nature- 
 based ; for a religious element is a part of humanity, 
 and the varied worship of the earth is but its expres 
 sion. Thus does it clearly appear that all human 
 rights have a common source, the nature of man, as 
 formed by Almighty God. This is its perpetual 
 fountain. 
 
 But this doctrine of human rights needs be guarded 
 from abuse. The manner in which the natural thirsts, 
 wants, and tendencies should be met, constitutes an 
 other and a serious question. One faculty and want 
 should never be gratified to the injury of another ; 
 and over all should the moral sentiment of eternal 
 right preside. The whole nature is to be considered, 
 in which the intellectual and moral powers are the 
 just governors and guides. 
 
 We have gained, I think, one point, which is that 
 the rights of man are to be learned from his nature, 
 that this is their grand source. When we look to this 
 quarter for evidence, it is overwhelming in favor of 
 freedom of thought, freedom of speech, and freedom 
 of action. Even in the souls of the prostrate and 
 the ruined, are witnesses to this.
 
 HUMAN FREEDOM AND RIGHTS. 357 
 
 Now, we claim that the American government, in 
 its constitutional structure, stands upon the idea I 
 have attempted to develop. It is the worth and dig 
 nity of man's nature on which the temple of repub 
 licanism is reared. There is no other source for 
 inalienable rights. Why has man the rights of life, 
 liberty, and the pursuit of happiness ? Is it because 
 government has granted them ? What is govern 
 ment ? Whence does it flow ? It is the creature, 
 not the creator, of man. Government, whether good 
 or evil, always flows from man, and consequently 
 can have nothing which man has not. How absurd, 
 therefore, the idea that governments create rights, 
 that an action creates new faculties and prerogatives 
 in the actor ! The king is but a man ; and his wisest, 
 happiest administrations only prove what man may 
 do, not what a divine right may achieve. Why do 
 these rights appertain to man ? I claim that there is 
 but one answer to this question ; and this is because 
 he is man, because he has immortal powers to be 
 developed and perfected, because the possession of 
 his freedom is necessary to his being the full, com 
 plete man. In the nature and life of man, there 
 fore, the principles of government are to be studied. 
 Confucius said, " Study man in man." 
 
 Self-government is thus based. I am taught by 
 experience and inward admonition, that I ought to 
 govern myself. Each man has a power over himself 
 that no other can possibly have. No man is nobly 
 governed but by the wisdom and virtue of his own 
 mind. So of a state and a nation. I know it has 
 been called a paradox, this idea of self-government,
 
 358 HUMAN FREEDOM AND RIGHTS. 
 
 because it is affirmed that government itself implies 
 that the governed and the governor are not the same. 
 I deny that this is fairly implied. For, if one man 
 rightly governs himself, it is plain that the governor 
 and the governed are one being. If an individual 
 self-government unites the ruler and the ruled into 
 one being, Avhy may not the state and the nation 
 unite the same elements ? I claim the ideas of the 
 Declaration as containing a truer philosophy of man 
 and of government than any which have been ut 
 tered since the introduction of Christianity, though 
 our attempt to actualize them is, of course, defi 
 cient. 
 
 As reason and conscience create no law of truth 
 and right, but simply report their unchanging princi 
 ples, so true legislation discovers the rights of man and 
 the principles of a national success, and acknowledges 
 these in its laws and enactments. But, so long as we 
 regard human rights as founded in legislation, tradi 
 tion, or the will of potentates, we are blind to the 
 fact that man is man. 
 
 Still the seeds of republican philosophy came 
 from the old world, wind and wave-wafted, to these 
 aboriginal shores. The old is the parent of the new 
 in government, science, religion, and art, as well as 
 in the changes and progressions of life in the animal 
 and vegetable kingdoms. The Revolution uttered a 
 ripened thought, and its wars were in the main but 
 the servants of its ideas. 
 
 I would now ask attention to another branch of 
 this subject, the true character of human freedom. 
 This implies more than the question of human rights :
 
 HUMAN FREEDOM AND RIGHTS. 359 
 
 it implies not only the absence of outward tyrants, 
 but a state of mind and life. I am not sure but that 
 freedom, in its highest and best sense, is the rarest 
 of all attainments. The freedom of any being, to 
 be entire, should extend to his whole nature. Not 
 one power can be exempt, and the being free. Now, 
 humanity is constituted of various powers, which we 
 sometimes classify by the names of spiritual and 
 physical. It is at once plain that no man is physi 
 cally free, unless he is unconfined, unless he is left 
 in the free command of his person. But freedom 
 to a human being has a higher basis than the animal 
 man. This much God has given to every creature. 
 The fish of the sea, the beast of the wood, the bird 
 of the air, all enjoy this physical liberty. The eagle 
 emblems the true genius of freedom in his lofty 
 soarings. The flower and the palm grow unre 
 strained. In every form of life, beneath the reno 
 vations of the sun, this truth evolves that all perfect 
 and beautiful growth takes place in the element of 
 liberty, and there only. A physical nature, to grow 
 complete, must have a physical liberty ; and a spirit* 
 ual nature, to grow in power, demands a spiritual 
 liberty. A free air is to the growth of a forest what 
 freedom is to the development of man. The end is 
 growth, power. The freedom is but the oppor 
 tunity. 
 
 Treating this subject as independent of social 
 enactments, treating it simply as natural and individ 
 ual freedom, it implies the free use of all the faculties 
 possessed, to the extent demanded by the health and 
 happiness of each. Had man but six faculties, he
 
 360 HUMAN FREEDOM AND RIGHTS. 
 
 could not be perfectly free, having only the com 
 mand of three, four, or five. And, allowing him the 
 unrestrained use of the entire number, he is not still 
 free except he exercises them properly, so that one is 
 not in excess over the others. Now, as the chief 
 powers of man are in his mind, his freedom must be 
 long to this in the highest sense. I have spoken of free 
 dom as the opportunity of self-development ; but it is 
 as properly applied to the opportunity improved, to 
 that mind which deeply respects itself, which holds 
 its centre of action wholly within, that boldly and 
 respectfully asserts its rights, that scorns to act from 
 foreign wills, that thinks, speaks, and acts freely 
 from inward force, that holds a princely sway over 
 the habits, that breaks the bondage of tradition to 
 think for itself, that wields the great array of nature, 
 society, events, and ideas to the end of life, which is 
 self-power, that is to say, the perfection of man. He 
 who can and does act from pure reason and con 
 science is the freeman of the earth. 
 
 But, on the contrary, is it not a contradiction ? It 
 is only through an inward power of self-command, 
 and through the illumination and purity of all the 
 powers, that a human being is free. Ability of mo 
 tion is no more necessary to bodily freedom than is 
 reverence for truth, and obedience to moral princi 
 ple, to spiritual liberty. Indeed, all men are slaves 
 whose conduct does not originate in the spontaneous 
 action of their own minds. It matters not where 
 they are, nor by what splendor or humbleness of 
 circumstance they are surrounded. I believe, also, 
 the idea will find response in a thousand breasts, that
 
 HUMAN FREEDOM AND RIGHTS. 361 
 
 no human being ever enjoyed an hour of real inde 
 pendence under the violation of that moral law 
 which Heaven has ineffaceably engraved on the hu 
 man heart. 
 
 Government proper is a wall of defence around 
 the field of natural rights. It is protective simply. 
 It works out nothing for any man. It never wields 
 the means it furnishes. Each person is to do his 
 own work, leaning on social enactment as his security 
 and defence. How delusively have men ascribed 
 mysterious powers to government, as if it almost 
 caused the sun to arise and the seasons to change ! 
 How little, indeed, do the laws govern any one ! 
 Numberless actions and mental emotions of daily 
 life occur, with no more reference to the laws than if 
 they did not exist; and yet they influence char 
 acter and happiness most deeply. 
 
 Political freedom is but the opportunity of a nation 
 to put forth its strength, to develop its mental and 
 moral life. The cardinal question, therefore, is to 
 individuals and nations, To what end does your 
 freedom contribute ? What do you bring from it for 
 yourself and others ? And, from the true answers to 
 these interrogations, we may determine the glory and 
 shame of all men and all nations. 
 
 As great men are representatives of ideas which 
 outlive their personal history, so all nations, deserving 
 existence as such, do represent on the stage of time 
 such ideas as determine their glory and shame for 
 history. Civilization, which, on the whole, has never 
 gone backward, is new-shaped and modified by each 
 
 31
 
 362 HUMAN FREEDOM AND RIGHTS. 
 
 particular people ; so that the true mission of each 
 nation is to represent what no other does represent 
 for the wisdom and progress of the world. Chinese 
 civilization represents the patriarchal idea in govern 
 ment, and reverence for the past ; ideas which have 
 held a stability in their institutions, in every sense as 
 tonishing ; whilst the Genius of America takes no 
 stand in the past, but plants his foot on the imperish 
 able worth and dignity of human nature. It assumes 
 that government is made for man, not man for it ; 
 that he is greater than legislation, and may therefore 
 change its order to his wants. The nation, like the 
 individual, to reach its proper greatness, must seek 
 the full development of all its physical and mental 
 resources. It is indeed a favoring fact, that a nation 
 begins its existence in a climate fitted to thought and 
 labor, and on a soil which challenges invention and 
 nerves the mind to its subjugation. A rough coun 
 try, rich in its mineral, and tolerably ample in its 
 productive resource, with a climate of various though 
 medium temperature, appears to be one of the favor 
 ing conditions of a national greatness ; for the physi 
 cal conditions of a people always leave their impress 
 on character and achievement. The skies and as 
 pects of Greece physical correspond to the aspects 
 of Greece mental ; and, as the glory of each people 
 over whom the sea of destruction has rolled springs 
 chiefly from its mind, the subject -of mental cultiva 
 tion becomes the chief of all questions touching a 
 nation's greatness. Soil and climate yield no immor 
 tality. It will be forgotten how much rice or corn a 
 country has produced, where the name of but one
 
 HUMAN FREEDOM AND RIGHTS. 
 
 great man, who has hallowed it by his genius or 
 surpassing virtue, shall be entempled and enshrined 
 for ever. As the name of a Socrates and a Na 
 poleon outlives their earthly fortunes, so does a na 
 tion's mind survive its organic life ; and, whilst the 
 course of ages shall in ceaseless current flow, the 
 great question that will be uttered in the ear of 
 the American past will be, What men, what char 
 acter, did your situation and your institutions pro 
 duce ? This question shall be asked when every 
 other is uncared for. 
 
 And it is under the supreme importance of this 
 question that free institutions are to be valued ; for it 
 is only where the doors of honor and enterprise are 
 open to all, that all are excited to the highest action 
 of their powers. It is the glory of republican insti 
 tutions that they call out the talents of a people, that 
 they excite the common mind to the acquisition of 
 knowledge, and that they train it to habits of self- 
 respect. 
 
 Let us, fellow-citizens, turn our eyes to the Amer 
 ican Government. It is now but a youth, with the 
 blood of a man beating in his heart. The dark pro 
 phecies of other days have been outlived ; and, in a 
 career of increasing power and prosperity, his eye is 
 on a " misty future bent," while his daring step 
 treads on to new possessions. What shall be the 
 consummation of his strength, and when his decline, 
 I would not attempt to predict ; but this much will I 
 do, with all the assurance that the union of cause and 
 effect can possibly inspire, point out some means 
 and elements of national glory, which if not care-
 
 364 HUMAN FREEDOM AND RIGHTS. 
 
 fully incorporated into our country's life, its history 
 will yet be the picture of ruins ; as if, 
 
 " O'er temples fallen and ruins wild, 
 In scattered proofs, one saw the light 
 Of brighter years, that played along 
 An earth all green, till, from its orb 
 All quenched, it fled in darkness." 
 
 1. And, beginning with the wants of which man 
 kind are most readily conscious, I would notice physi 
 cal industry. There is no permanence of institution or 
 happiness without it. Physical industry is more than 
 the instrument of physical wants. In causing the 
 wilderness to blossom as the rose, in turning unculti 
 vated fields into plains of golden grain, in planting 
 villages, cities, and mansions sacred to the feeling of 
 home, the image of civilized man is engraved on the 
 face of nature, whilst the virtues are fed by all the 
 industrial branches of human pursuit. Industry de 
 velops manly power. It creates the firm constitu 
 tion, which, in every country, is the basis of mental 
 vigor and business-efficiency. The human mind and 
 body are formed to act, and without action there is dis 
 content. Employment, therefore, is the chief element 
 of a people's happiness ; and that government which 
 best prompts, ennobles, and encourages it among all 
 classes, is best adapted to the genius of human na 
 ture. Labor is as noble as it is necessary. There is 
 joy in the sound of the woodman's axe, still more in 
 his hearty song, that echoes among the joyous hills. 
 There is music in the din of industry, in the sound 
 of the hammer shaping the flashing steel. There is 
 silent joy in the ploughing of fields, the fencing of
 
 HUMAN FREEDOM AND RIGHTS, 365 
 
 meadows, the care of herds, and in seeing the growth 
 of every seed. Labor undoubtedly needs to be 
 cleared from excesses, but never can it be dishon 
 ored ; never can idleness prey upon the higher classes, 
 while the lower are doomed to the severest servitude, 
 without exhausting the energy of the one, and the 
 dignity and the happiness of the other. 
 
 I rejoice, though some mourn the fact, that Ameri 
 cans are a practical, and not a theoretic people. 
 They have no time to waste in dreams. Their energy 
 seeks expression chiefly in action. It is the American 
 genius, in judging of men, to ask, as did the Corsican 
 general, " What can he do ? " not what can he say, 
 or what can he conceive ? The American is the 
 Phoenician of the world ; business is his life. The 
 first stage of progress in a new world is very much 
 the warfare with physical obstacle, which being com 
 pleted, the same achieving energy rises into the intel 
 lectual sphere, and there, by discovery, invention, 
 and learning, enriches the world with knowledge. 
 Into this latter epoch, we believe, our country is 
 destined to pass. 
 
 2. As the glory of a nation must come from a 
 nation's mind, it follows that education, based, as it 
 ever should be, on the worth of man as an intellect 
 ual, moral, and immortal intelligence, is indispensable 
 to the attainment of a nation's proper greatness. The 
 mind of a people must be called out ; and that 
 which best brings out its powers, in the most perfect 
 energy and grace, displays best the true idea of edu 
 cation. 
 
 The end to be attained is force of thought, clear- 
 si*
 
 366 
 
 ness and power of utterance, elevation of motive, 
 and enjoyment. I call that education through which 
 man sees the truth of the universe ; through which he 
 enjoys its beauty, and masters its elements ; through 
 which he knows the order that reigns in vegetation, 
 in the animal world, in the constellations of stars, in 
 the elements around him ; through which he com 
 munes with the wisdom and virtue of past times : 
 and still more is that education, through which each 
 person knows himself, and by which he gains con 
 tinuity, variety, elegance, and richness of thought. 
 Howard ascribed the high morals of the Swiss to the 
 wide diffusion of education among their youth. In 
 high-minded Scotland, who is unable to read his 
 Bible and his Burns ? Whence the superiority of 
 France, Germany, and England ? Very much does 
 it come from this, that they have more highly edu 
 cated mind, more intellect for the accomplishment of 
 their ends, more discovery and invention. 
 
 The tendency to distribution, evidently a distin 
 guishing feature of the age, is peculiarly the spirit of 
 our government. Education will be diffused ; but 
 more highly gifted teachers, and in great numbers, 
 are needed to carry the light to every hill-top and 
 into every valley of the nation. A national university 
 should train a class of men, superior by nature, to go 
 forth as the quickeners and teachers of mind ; men 
 whose influence will naturally kindle the best thought, 
 the highest aspiration, and the noblest feeling, of which 
 the glowing heart of the American youth is capable. 
 This view, indeed, is not only sustained by the wants 
 of the country ; but it was once honored by the recom-
 
 HUMAN FREEDOM AND RIGHTS. 367 
 
 mendation of the great statesman, whose eloquent 
 voice is now silent for ever. I hope for the time, 
 when no man, American born, will be unillumined 
 and uncultivated by the light of science. 
 
 3. I cannot omit the view, that the literature of a 
 nation is one of its highest, and certainly one of its 
 most refined, elements of greatness and honor. By 
 a nation's literature, is meant " the expression of a 
 nation's mind in writing," the most enduring form 
 in which mind may be expressed. Take from England 
 her Shakspeare, her Bulwer, and her Byron; take 
 from Caledonia her Burns, her Campbell, and her 
 Scott ; and take from our own country her Channing, 
 her Irving, her Bancroft, her Prescott, and others, and 
 what wealth shall replace the glory gone ? The poetry, 
 history, philosophy, ethics, and drama of a nation are 
 its most beautiful monuments. They are the mirror 
 of a nation's genius. They concentrate and embody 
 the mental and the moral charm. Blot out the wri 
 ters of Greece and of Rome, and what constellation 
 pours down its light from a Grecian or an Italian 
 sky ? None. No nation, indeed, can deserve honor 
 that has no literature of its own, and aims at none. 
 
 The people of this nation came from other coun 
 tries ; and for a time, at least, it was natural to live 
 on a foreign literature. Indeed, none else, for a time, 
 could do as well. The aged teach. Work and 
 business were the rough poems which our country 
 men were called to make. Few have had time to 
 attempt any other. Nor is it a bad sign that a na 
 tional literature is slow in its formation. All great 
 natural growths are slow. Ours is begun certainly,
 
 368 HUMAN FREEDOM AND RIGHTS. 
 
 but nothing more than begun. The act in the tra 
 gedy of American history following Colonization Avas 
 Preparation ; and not fourscore winters are numbered 
 since the third and great act, the Revolution ; and 
 certainly, were it an entire century before it might be 
 said that a national literature is begun, the pheno 
 menon could not by any fairness be construed to sig 
 nify an inability for its production. The genius of 
 our country is strikingly original in the directions in 
 which it earnestly inclines. We are called by Eng 
 lish critics, however, a land of mocking-birds, because 
 we rely on foreign literature so much, and because 
 we imitate it so much. But I cannot conceive that 
 the genius of a people should be original, and still 
 never achieve what is higher than imitation and copy- 
 ism. Whom did Channing imitate ? whom Web 
 ster ? whom Emerson ? whom Dewey ? whom Irving 
 and Cooper ? whom Willis and Bryant ? I must hope 
 for my country a high, brave, and beautiful litera 
 ture ; one that is worthy of its rivers, mountains, 
 prairies, and forests. 
 
 4. But high over all is the idea of a national virtue. 
 The moral law flows through a nation's mind and 
 life. In the individual it is the highest law that 
 judges him. It is written on the heart, and the dark 
 est lives bear its traces. No man outlives it, or 
 proves it less powerful than his deeds. The soul feels 
 its authority in the Avhispers and thunders of con 
 science. In the darkness of early passions the idea 
 of justice breaks forth, and ripens into clearness and 
 power as age advances, until, in the eye of sober 
 reflection, it is the grand retributive power of the
 
 HUMAN FREEDOM AND RIGHTS. 
 
 369 
 
 world. As a law of humanity, I ask, how can a 
 nation be truly great, without paying it homage ? In 
 the midnight gloom of magnificent ruins, the lesson 
 is silently read that violence to this eternal law has 
 sealed the fate of nations once high as the stars in 
 fame and glory. 
 
 I know the reliance usually put in sage device and 
 political management to preserve a people prosper 
 ous and happy ; but the cunning of Satan may as 
 easily spread happiness through his rayless realm as 
 policy supply the place of principle. I repeat it, that 
 justice is the power that makes a nation strong. Woe 
 to the nation or the state that deliberately forsakes it ! 
 See the old French revolution, with its streaming 
 blood and its flaming passions ! What was this but 
 the dreadful comment of nature on accumulated in 
 justice ? what but the wild action of a bilious 
 man crazed by his passions ? It is by a goodness of 
 morals among the members and rulers of a nation 
 that character and energy are preserved. Institutions 
 of wrong may be built up, and power for a time may 
 mark them ; but there is a self-destruction that lives 
 in the heart of injustice, that will work its way out. 
 The outraged law of right is older than nations and 
 empires, nay, older than suns and stars ; for it is of 
 the nature of God himself, and, like him, sits in sov 
 ereign judgment on the conduct and destiny of na 
 tions. I have spoken of the moral law of humanity 
 as being essential to national as to individual great 
 ness and happiness ; but I would assign one other 
 element of a people's glory. 
 
 5. This is religion. I say religion ; not meaning
 
 370 HUMAN FREEDOM AND RIGHTS. 
 
 thereby a creed, but the spirit of worship, the rever 
 ence for the sacred, which, in an infinite variety of 
 forms, is seeking utterance from the soul in all climes. 
 The more noble the faith, the nobler the people. 
 But a nation without a religious faith is without the 
 great pillar of stability and character. Religion, 
 being the chief fact of human nature, as God, to 
 whom it refers, is the first Being of the universe, is 
 necessarily an element of man's true glory, whether 
 we contemplate him as an individual or as a nation. 
 Religion is the source of human virtues, the power 
 of responsibility, and the enduring pillar of every gov 
 ernment. When were the happiest days of Greece 
 and Rome ? As every student knows, their days of 
 glory were during the reign of the gods and the 
 goddesses, when the people had real faith and real 
 worship. Then were the triumphs of energy, the 
 achievements of arms and of arts. But when this 
 was gone, when the Epicureanism had eaten out the 
 soul of faith, their hands grew feeble, and their face 
 paled into sickness and death. From the tombs of 
 nations I draw my argument. From human nature 
 I summon this celestial witness. Woe to the nation 
 that has no God, and that knows no worship ! The 
 universe is leagued against them, and dark must be 
 ,the path they tread. 
 
 This nation struck deep root into religious ground. 
 The wave-tossed Mayflower was the ship of pilgrims, 
 whose deck was the altar of the living God, and 
 whose destiny was a free land, where the conscience 
 might dictate a fearless worship. The church grew 
 up in the wilderness, and spoke of heaven among the
 
 HUMAN FREEDOM AND RIGHTS. 371 
 
 trees, brooks, and wild-flowers that beautified the 
 primitive nature of good old New England. And 
 never can this nation dismiss the fear of God and the 
 sanctions of religion, without also dismissing the life 
 and energy of those brave and primitive times. 
 
 Reviewing the ground over which I have gone, it 
 appears that the source and basis of human rights 
 is the nature of man. His freedom is the unrestrained 
 use and command of all his faculties, to accomplish 
 the end of being, which is the growth, power, and 
 perfection of the same. And, in the analysis of the 
 means of true national glory, I have spoken of indus 
 try, literature, education, morals, and worship. And 
 the idea pervading this analysis is, that a nation's 
 glory comes from its mind ; from its mind, I say, as 
 expressed in art, literature, jurisprudence, and in all 
 the various action in which a nation's mind may be 
 expressed. 
 
 But, in the proposition that the rights of man flow 
 from his nature, it is implied that human nature 
 must be known before its rights can be determined. 
 And here has lain the great difficulty. This has 
 been but little studied, and therefore but little known ; 
 and hence the degradation of masses, borne down by 
 the civil arm in the various ages and countries of the 
 earth. There is a silent contempt for man's nature 
 reposing at the bottom of all oppression. As gov 
 ernment is both from man and for him, it can only be 
 wise in proportion as it truly understands his nature. 
 Now, no man can look into history, without seeing 
 that the idea of man, as a mere physical being, has 
 often grossly prevailed in the laws. Anciently he
 
 372 HUMAN FREEDOM AND RIGHTS. 
 
 was regarded as a being of the state. In this his 
 individuality was wholly merged. The terrific ap 
 peals to personal fear in such great excess imply a 
 disbelief in the higher, nobler, and stronger princi 
 ples of human nature. Where is the state that ever 
 placed education on the high ground of the native 
 worth and dignity of man ? History gives us no 
 example. The ends, I fear, have belonged too much 
 to the mercenary and the ambitious. Indeed, the 
 wars in which millions of lives have been wasted, 
 whilst they exhibit many high traits, also show how 
 little the rulers of the world have valued life, how 
 low they have esteemed humanity. The great man 
 of history is quite generally presented in an arbitrary 
 sway over the many. Never, my friends, until man 
 is contemplated from his manhood, from his likeness 
 to Divinity in his faculties, will governments be truly 
 respectful of his rights. Never till then will they 
 furnish him the adequate means of progress. Never 
 till then will they dread to invade his lawful free 
 dom. 
 
 But waiving the considerations of foreign revolu 
 tions, over which a sure justice shah 1 preside in the 
 final result, I am happy in the thought that this 
 country has passed through the school in which 
 many foreign countries are yet to learn the lesson of 
 liberty. The New World asked the companionship 
 of new ideas and institutions, and the Revolution 
 came and granted it. The ideas of the Declaration 
 are the ground and pillar of the government, the 
 end and life of that movement. They are abstract 
 thoughts ; but they point to the true and everlasting
 
 
 
 HUMAN PftEEDOM AND RIGHTS. 373 
 
 Source of human rights and freedom. They cover 
 the whole ground. The Reformation, the next most 
 liberal movement, only asserted human liberty with 
 respect to religion. It was but a partial view. It 
 touched but one point. But there is rio point un- 
 embraced in the Declaration. True, the theory is in 
 advance of the practice. We have realized, as yet, 
 but a generous compromise between the errors of the 
 Old World and the transcendent ideas of the New. 
 But I am not discouraged. These thoughts shall 
 yet be fulfilled ; for democracy is the certain ultimate 
 destiny both of the church and of the world. All 
 human tendency toward self-perfection appears to 
 yield to this promise. 
 
 There are uniting facts to bind the several parts of 
 this nation together. We speak a common language. 
 Our various branches of business, in spite of com 
 petition, have common ties. The great passion of 
 gain unites us. We are Americans by birth or choice. 
 We have a common liberty of religion, though we 
 have many creeds. We are one in a common repub 
 lican faith. Before the eye of discontent, spread the 
 immense uncultivated fields of the West ; and the 
 influence of past struggles, successes, and honors 
 unites with the exhortations and counsels of honored 
 ancestors to cement this nation into compactness and 
 unity. 
 
 But to realize the grand idea that bases our na 
 tional structure, each citizen should become a noble 
 being. He should know himself and his country. 
 He should feel his fraternity with the human race. 
 He should prove his ability of self-government by a 
 32
 
 374 HUMAN FREEDOM AND RIGHTS, 
 
 noble self-control. Then should we be worthy of 
 our Washington and of our superior political truths. 
 " I am a Roman citizen " was the grand boast of the 
 ancient subject of Caesar's power. But " I am a 
 man " is the far nobler claim ; and this to prove in 
 silence and in speech, in thought and in act, is the 
 sublimest of works, and accords with the genius of 
 republican law,
 
 375 
 
 JUSTICE. 
 
 IT is only within the circle of human volition that 
 injustice operates ; and even here it may be said, that 
 an involuntary retributive law brings under its judg 
 ment-sway all action and character. The real laws 
 of our being are perfectly independent of the will ; 
 as much so, indeed, as are those which preside over 
 the external creation. Man in his life may place 
 himself in true and false relations to the former as 
 well as to the latter, thereby receiving a different 
 order of results ; but change them he cannot. He 
 did not create the retributive laws, neither can he 
 arrest their legitimate action. 
 
 In the grand arrangements of material nature, 
 there seems to be a perfect physical justice. Each 
 seed bears its proper stalk, blossom, and fruit. The 
 thorn is nourished equally with the rose ; and, if 
 more might concentrates in the oak, the assault of 
 the elements is also stronger. Over all changes and 
 reproductions an equal law presides, whilst every 
 world is justly balanced in space. All elective com 
 bination and decomposition of elements, as well as 
 every harvest, preach that a harmonious justice flows 
 through the material world ; whilst it is certain that 
 the human heart has ever yielded the belief, under
 
 376 JUSTICE. 
 
 the clouds of barbarism, as under a higher enlighten 
 ment, that a certain Omnipotence attaches to moral 
 right, and that its ultimate triumphs are certain. 
 " No doubt," said the rude barbarians of Melita, 
 " this man is a murderer, whom, though he hath 
 escaped the sea, vengeance suffereth not to live." * 
 Always in the great fears and hopes of mankind, 
 the sentiment of certain justice lies unconsciously at 
 the source. 
 
 One evidence of the goodness and greatness of the 
 end for which man is, is discoverable in the order 
 and extent of the retributive laws which he bears in 
 his being. These appear to imply a wonderful care 
 for his nature, or why should it be so skilfully and 
 powerfully guarded ? There must be something of 
 immense value where so many sentinels are stationed 
 to keep watch. Within and without, they hold a 
 sleepless vigil. 
 
 Justice, in descending from the Infinite, took gen 
 eral laws for the mode of its agency. It became 
 silently omnipresent through such principles of matter 
 and mind as are inlaid in the universe and in man ; 
 so that the great play of cause and consequence, 
 through the long ages of time, is, and must be, the 
 sublime drama of justice. Perhaps there is no 
 greater service that philosophy may render to re 
 ligion than by teaching the proper source of retribu 
 tion, than by handing over to her the inductions to 
 which her premises lead. Higher views than have 
 usually prevailed widen and deepen the confidence 
 
 * Acts xxviii. 4.
 
 JUSTICE* 377 
 
 of man in the divine rule, and tend to create a 
 nobler virtue by giving it nobler motives, 
 
 But, in assigning to justice the agency of retribu 
 tive laws, it must not be supposed that these are 
 independent of God, or that they are any thing more 
 than modes of power ; for law, neither in matter nor 
 mind, is an actor, but a method through Avhich the 
 Creator acts for the accomplishment of his ends. 
 The presence of God is an omnipresence, of the 
 action of which the laws of the universe are but the 
 modes. A. law cannot act ; but it measures the exe 
 cutive power that is back of it. Every mind must 
 act from itself, and in acting must exhibit its perfec 
 tion or imperfection in its modes. It is the dictate 
 of natural religion, as well as the direct teaching of 
 revelation, that God is a Perfect Mind, that in him 
 is perfect order ; whence it follows that all the modes 
 of action becoming his nature are marked by order 
 and unity ; so that the uniformity and order of the 
 natural laws, instead of excluding divine agency 
 from nature, are the brightest proofs of its presence. 
 The notion that has thrown much confusion into this 
 subject is the conception that Deity cannot or will 
 not act with as much regularity as the universe dis 
 plays, that what marks the course of nature must 
 be so, and that a divine action must be more personal 
 and voluntary. This notion, so totally blind to all 
 philosophical analysis, overlooks the conclusion, that, 
 if nature sprung from God, all its order existed in 
 his mind before it was embodied into visible form, 
 and that the act of embodiment could not have 
 diminished the Fountain of order whence it came. 
 
 32*
 
 378 JUSTICE, 
 
 To treat of law as a Deity is to forget its meaning ; 
 and to speak of nature as having more order and 
 law than properly belong to a divine agency is to 
 forget the lesson of childhood, that God made the 
 world. Justice, therefore, is from God, wherever 
 dispensed ; law being only a mode, and not a power. 
 God is the life and power of the universe, and is as 
 immediately present through law as any actor is 
 present through his modes of doing. 
 
 The ignorance about to-morrow that overshadows 
 mankind does not a little to modify the freedom of 
 the human actor ; for, were the eye to behold the 
 certain picture of consequences flowing from partic 
 ular conduct, there can be no doubt that conduct 
 would be prompted by ends more selfish, insomuch 
 perhaps as to take from virtue its freedom and inter 
 est. Could men know at once all the miseries that 
 are to flow from a great vice, they would shrink from 
 the act with horror ; but this would be chiefly a 
 horror at consequences, and not at the principle of 
 wrong. Know as much as we may, there is a bal 
 ance of the unknown that leaves the future somewhat 
 as a twilight to the mind ; and particularly is there an 
 obscurity, in relation to the distant effects on char 
 acter of present moral behavior, on the minds of most 
 men, that contrasts strongly with their foresight on 
 matters of secular consequences. But this limit to 
 knowledge certainly leaves the actor more free : it 
 gives opportunity to a higher virtue than if the over 
 whelming tide of fear were poured into the mind 
 through a certain perception of all the results. 
 
 In the world, too, there appears to be a balance of
 
 JUSTICE. 379 
 
 influences. The sensual and moral nature of man 
 seem to balance each other. Neither is to the other 
 necessarily overwhelming. Neither vice nor virtue 
 from this social world sends out an all-controlling 
 power over any individual, which, could it occur, 
 would indeed impair, if not destroy, virtue ; for what 
 is virtue ? It implies always an inward force and 
 freedom of will so exercised as to evince a love of 
 right as the spring of action. But the mere bowing 
 to an overwhelming power of surrounding influence, 
 however good its sources, does not imply or express 
 it; no more, indeed, than, the bowing of trees to the 
 mighty winds. In the fact, therefore, that the in 
 fluences of good and evil, mind and matter, are so 
 balanced as not to overwhelm each other without the 
 decisive action of the individual, the possibility and 
 opportunity of a real virtue is given. 
 
 The same view is held forth in the balance of 
 reward and punishment. If these were multiplied a 
 thousand-fold, and rendered more immediate and 
 sensuous, so that all could witness them as they do 
 outward objects, the selfish principle, gaining a great 
 ascendency, would so dictate conduct as to jeopar 
 dize and destroy a free, spontaneous action from the 
 moral feelings, which is the very life and beauty of 
 goodness. To flee from a sinking ship for safety in 
 a life-boat, and to retreat from the path of an ava 
 lanche, argue no virtue ; for every grade of charac 
 ter is impelled to the same earnest movement by the 
 same fear. If all the justice that a life works out 
 were sent suddenly into a moment of time, its ap 
 palling power would not leave the love of goodness
 
 380 JUSTICE. 
 
 as the fountain of action in the human breast. In 
 the silence in which the law of justice is more 
 commonly manifested, in the invisible nature that 
 appertains to much of human retribution, and in the 
 gradual development and maturity of its fruits, there 
 is a happy adaptation of righteousness to the free* 
 dom of the will, and to the spontaneity of goodness. 
 There is, therefore, a free sky bending over the 
 ground of human volition ; but, after one has acted, 
 hills of granite are not so firm as the retributive 
 principle that reigns over the life, till every legitimate 
 result is accomplished. 
 
 No man or nation of men ever possessed a quality 
 that did not yield its legitimate fruit in their retribu 
 tive history. Rome falling beneath her effeminacy, 
 and conquering the world Ihrough her chivalrous 
 and indomitable courage ; the Tartar holding China 
 in conquest, and himself bowing to a civilization 
 higher than his own ; the Colonies bursting asunder 
 a foreign yoke, and building on a wisdom, not inde 
 pendent of, but superior to, the English rule; the 
 French Revolutions bursting forth from the pent-up 
 fires of justice opposed and suppressed, are but 
 national echoes of the fact that Prince Justice has 
 reigned on earth, that he has dealt with nations and 
 kingdoms with a masterly hand. When two merely 
 physical forces meet, it is nature's justice that the 
 less should yield to the greater ; nor is it otherwise 
 in the higher and grander conflicts of time, in which 
 the better elements do always finally predominate. 
 
 What man ever had an unrecompensed quality ? 
 What virtue is not able to reward itself ? If there
 
 JUSTICE. 381 
 
 is one, it certainly is not worth retaining. It is a 
 bad dollar that will not gain its equivalent. Howard 
 loved man after an uncommon manner, and have 
 not society loved him as much ? Nero hated man, 
 but did not as great a hatred return to himself? 
 He who cares not for others is uncared for by 
 others. Wise men and good, it is said, have been 
 badly treated. This is granted. But was the wise 
 man, therefore, unhappy in his wisdom, or the good 
 man unhappy in his goodness ? Galileo was happy 
 in his truth ; nor does the proper recompense of 
 virtue lie very much in what society admits or denies. 
 But, admitting that it did, nothing is plainer than 
 that society always gratefully acknowledges its bene 
 factors as soon as it has learned who they are. 
 
 Coleridge saw, in the case of the ignorant German 
 girl, who repeated entire sentences of Hebrew when 
 in a deranged state of health (sentences which she 
 had formerly heard read by a clergyman with whom 
 she had lived), an evidence of the indelibility of 
 every impression the human mind receives, so that 
 the record which Heaven makes of human deeds 
 may all be written on the tablet of the human heart. 
 Under this view, a ray of light dawns, not only on 
 the possibility, but on the mode, of a retribution 
 through which nothing is so venial as to escape its 
 notice and power. There can be no doubt, that, if 
 a perfect retribution was ever intended for man, the 
 principles whose agency should secure it, were laid 
 in the retributive plan ; for the means precede the 
 accomplishment of the end, and, in all perfect econo 
 my, are adapted to and connected with it.
 
 382 JUSTICE. 
 
 It is very certain that a clear view of this subject 
 can never obtain, whilst there is a total absence of a 
 just psychology. Some just science of mind is 
 necessary to know a retribution that takes place in 
 the mind. And perhaps there is no plainer proof 
 that such a science either does not exist among the 
 teachers of the age, or that they neglect to apply it, 
 than the adventitious views which prevail. The 
 language which more commonly expresses the popu 
 lar idea implies the absence of a plan of justice in 
 the nature and life of the soul, and that there are 
 ways of escaping it, or at least of postponing all 
 injury to an indefinite period. 
 
 The grand central fact around which reasoning 
 should gather, appears to be this, that all the retribu 
 tive laivs, or the whole retributive plan, exists in the 
 nature of the being who is the subject of the retribu 
 tion. The whole system, man incarnates ; for every 
 law of his nature has a power to reward and punish. 
 Not one is otherwise. The end, that is to say the 
 realization of justice, is in man ; in him it is to take 
 place ; and would we connect the means with the 
 end, these should be sought in him also. The anal 
 ogy of other things indicates this. The laws through 
 which God governs the solar system are established in 
 that system. The laws through which he brings a plant 
 to a tree, and the bud to a flower, repose in each. 
 So, indeed, of every object, from the atom to the 
 world. The system of social retributive enactment 
 is founded in society ; and, so far as concerns the 
 physical nature of man, I opine that none would 
 hesitate a moment before assenting to the proposi-
 
 JUSTICE, 383 
 
 tion, that the retributive laws of the body are estab 
 lished in it ; that they are the laws of health ; that 
 man rises through obedience, and sinks through dis 
 obedience, thereto. This is indeed a good point, not 
 only for practical purposes, but as a suggestion and 
 illustration of what is greater and higher. The retri 
 butive laws of the body, of course, must exist as 
 long as the nature to which they belong* 
 
 But the soul is that which knows the sentiment of 
 justice, that takes cognizance of recompense, that 
 constitutes the immortal man. Here, all moral retri 
 bution holds its courts ', here are all its laws. As the 
 elements of mind are complete and descended from 
 God, it contains the whole system of spiritual recom 
 pense. The facts of experience substantiate this 
 view ; for every measure of remorse and degrada 
 tion occurs through the laws of the soul : indeed, no 
 mental fact can be but through them. Every faculty 
 is retributive. Nothing fails to enter into judgment. 
 The universe out of man is from the right, and is 
 leagued against all wrong. The thief and robber 
 are detected by the tracks they leave upon it. It is 
 true, and only accords with such as are true. All, 
 however, that it administers of good or evil to men is 
 realized, not through laws out of man, but through 
 laws in man. The finger burned, and the eye filled 
 with light, are facts whose possibility depended on 
 the organization. 
 
 From the premises already gained, the idea of 
 escape from justice resolves itself into the question, 
 Can man escape from himself? can he sever nature 
 from God, and unite it to guilt ?
 
 384 JUSTICE. 
 
 But another truth of the most solemn and benig 
 nant consequence springs out of the premises. It is 
 this. Retribution is as everlasting as the nature of 
 man. For as the physical laws remain as long as 
 the organism in which they have their source, so the 
 spiritual laws must continue as long as the nature in 
 which they inhere. Both are equally everlasting ; 
 and, if they exist, they act. Thus, retribution is per 
 petual and for ever. Through obedience to these 
 laws, humanity ascends ; through disobedience, it de 
 scends. 
 
 The whole general philosophy of this matter is con 
 tained in that immortal utterance of St. Paul, " What 
 soever a man soweth, that shall he also reap." An 
 endless series of ages could do no more than to 
 exhibit a continual development of this fact. Justice 
 is over all. It compasses the universe, and the end- x 
 less time is its day. And however uniform and per 
 manent may be the retributive laws, law is not God. 
 It is but the mode of his poAver ; although, in com 
 mon discourse, we may at times only name the mode, 
 inasmuch as it implies the power for which it exists. 
 Under this view the Deity is contemplated as imme 
 diate and universal in all the dispensations of order 
 and justice ; whilst every other hypothesis borders 
 on the frozen clime of a practical atheism, and leaves 
 you destitute of any thing like a sacred philosophy.
 
 385 
 
 SUPREMACY OF HEART. 
 
 IN the material universe, there are few facts of more 
 striking interest than the tendency of particles to a 
 common centre. This fact, through an invisible influ 
 ence, is constantly verified in the earth on which we 
 stand. Since man and the earth are adapted, may 
 we not ask for an analogous truth in human nature ? 
 What is its central power ? 
 
 Not only the globe, but the particle, has a centre. 
 This tendency to centralization is universal, gives 
 to each tribe a chief, to each community a leader, to 
 the state a president or king, to the church a bishop 
 or pope. The seeds of this unity and government 
 are everywhere sown. But, in the soul, what is the 
 centre to which all surface-substance is drawn, to 
 which all the other powers turn servants and waiters ? 
 This central power is love. 
 
 " All thoughts, all passions, all delights, 
 Whatever stirs this mortal frame, 
 All are but ministers of Love, 
 And feed the sacred flame." 
 
 But whilst man lived for ages on his planet, with 
 out knowing the physical fact ; so he stood for ages 
 amidst the moral phenomena of mind, without mak 
 ing his philosophy according to this view.
 
 386 SUPREMACY OF HEART. 
 
 If we examine the particular faculties of the mind, 
 and the various conduct which men originate, it will 
 appear that they revolve about the central love as the 
 circling waters of an eddy. Memory exhibits its 
 most wonderful agency, when commanded and quick 
 ened by it. What books, scenes, events, and ideas 
 are longest retained ? Those doubtless on which 
 the heart has poured its sunlight. Who was ever 
 unheard, when speaking to man's or woman's love ? 
 He who pains and agitates is remembered also, 
 partly because self-love and the love of order are 
 violently stormed by every assault on the soul's 
 composure. The thought genius has uttered, that 
 becomes a fire in the breast of the youth, is bap 
 tized in the love of truth, which sharpens attention 
 toward its highest utterances. Can the miser forget 
 his gold, the ambitious his fame, the philosopher his 
 thought ? 
 
 The rational power falls into this homage ; for it 
 never wrought out a plan which love, either in its 
 good or vicious forms, did not originate. The love 
 of subsistence and of action precedes all industry ; of 
 knowledge, all true research ; of grandeur, all mag 
 nificence of constructive skill. Who ever reasoned 
 justly for a long time, without the love of truth and 
 justice ? Who was the philosopher who did not first 
 of all glory in the connection between cause and 
 consequence, who did not revel in spirit in the bliss 
 of wisdom ? Place a thousand persons under a 
 diversity of interests (which are but forms of men's 
 affections), and how variously they reason ! One can 
 see all necessary truth in a small creed his grand-
 
 SUPREMACY OF HEART. 387 
 
 parents gave. Another, who lives on the dry limb 
 of a different tradition, discovers much unreason 
 ableness and danger in what his neighbor believes. 
 One has weighty reasons why the road should pass 
 his house, and why a particular candidate should 
 be elected ; whilst others know the public would be 
 greatly damaged. Even the few vast minds whose 
 intellects are as the heavens in calmness of thought 
 are no exception to the loyalty of the powers to love ; 
 since such minds have a love for truth as wide, as 
 deep, and as free, as are the powers which follow the 
 universal law so truly. Ends originate in the love, 
 we say, whilst the executive methods alone take rise 
 in the intellect. Which is greater, ends or methods ? 
 The former rule ; the latter serve. 
 
 The imagination, though apparently the freest of 
 the faculties, is not less loyal to this central power, 
 as each one who attempts to analyze the various play 
 of fancy may know. When we try to retrace the 
 steps of reverie, so as to recall the processes of our 
 imaginative moods, it will be found that the imagina 
 tion revives such associations of the past, and paints 
 such pictures of the future, as indicate the predomi 
 nant love of the man. This general truth would 
 appear, were the action of all minds laid open to the 
 light, as strikingly in the good and the true as in 
 the vicious. 
 
 Thoughts, which are so free as to be generally 
 supposed to move with no inconsiderable independ 
 ency of the volitions, obey the same law, even when 
 they seem most uncaused. The supreme love of 
 each person may be said to dig the channel through
 
 388 SUPREMACY OF HEART. 
 
 which thought flows, not only determining the way it 
 shall go, but determining also the clearness and the 
 turbidness of the stream. The miser and the philan 
 thropist alike verify this position. Whoever enters 
 the sacred sanctuary of the breast will see that mo 
 tives are children of a common mother, the spirit's 
 love, all born of her and bearing her likeness. Char 
 acter, conduct, voice, and feature exhibit the same 
 ancestral power which, in the performance of its 
 office, governs and inspires the outer faculties. The 
 great crisis that often brings such immensity of power 
 and invention out of the intellect, does so through 
 the inspiring force of love. Suppose you, that, aside 
 from the love of personal freedom, safety, of truth 
 and principle, of acquisition and enterprise, even a 
 tithe of the moral and mental energy of man had 
 been developed ? Intellect never works with god 
 like power, until love becomes its employer and in- 
 spirer. 
 
 Love being the central-power of man, it may be 
 interesting to open the sacred page for the sake of 
 learning that this is also the central-power of the Di 
 vine and the Eternal Mind. " God is love." This is 
 the supreme power. From this He has always acted, 
 and must for ever act. From this, therefore, the 
 universe sprung. Creative wisdom and energy, we 
 may suppose, only plan and execute what love de 
 sires to accomplish. This fact, as the central-power 
 of divine and human life, becomes one of the bright 
 est evidences that human nature is created in the 
 likeness of the Divine. 
 
 Now, what is strikingly interesting in this subject
 
 SUPREMACY OF HEART. 389 
 
 is the fact that both these views are set forth in great 
 plainness in the teachings of Christianity. This view 
 concerning God is the chief affirmation of the New 
 Testament. It is said that his love for mankind 
 caused him to send his Son into the world. The 
 whole purpose of Christianity, to enlighten, purify, 
 and save, implies this truth. Nor is it less clear that 
 human character, conduct, influence, proceed from 
 the central-power already named. In no other light 
 can we understand the following clear and striking 
 passages : " Blessed are the pure in heart ; for they 
 shall see God." " From the abundance of the heart 
 the mouth speaketh." " For from within, out of the 
 heart of man, proceed evil thoughts, adulteries, forni 
 cations, murders, thefts, covetousness, an evil eye, 
 blasphemy, pride, foolishness: all these evil things 
 come from within, and defile the man." There is a 
 profound depth in all these sayings. How striking, 
 how startling, the statement that an evil eye proceeds 
 from the heart, or the reigning love ! How creative 
 the sentiment that stamps its likeness on the unintel 
 ligent particles of matter in the human frame ! Mys 
 terious agency ! 
 
 Then, were we to seek a moral analysis of nature, 
 we should find that its infinitude of forms and agen 
 cies express this view as its central truth. Goodness 
 is the sentiment that throbs as first in the life and 
 heart of nature. All its utility and beauty bear wit 
 ness to this. All its moral, divine expression, all its 
 variously instructive laws and teachings, all its sacred 
 voices, testify to this. Then, should we seek the ana 
 lysis of the purely Christian elements, this would 
 33*
 
 390 SUPREMACY OF HEART. 
 
 appear as the central principle ; the charity which is 
 greater than sciences, prophecies, and preachings; 
 which shall endure for ever, whilst those forms of 
 knowledge shall disappear before still higher forms 
 of wisdom. Thus would it appear that God and 
 man, nature and Christianity, when truly known, 
 unfold the same great element as the first and central 
 power. 
 
 But, whilst this may be esteemed as the greatest 
 truth, there is the greatest danger that it may be 
 perverted and misunderstood. In its application to 
 God, I fear it is mournfully obscured by views which 
 tend to weaken the right conception of the greatness 
 and infinity of such a Being. We welcome the new 
 revelation of Deity as the Parent, the Friend, the 
 Infinite Love. But, as soon as this is done, the pre 
 vious conceptions of the individual as to what a 
 friend will do and say become immediately trans 
 ferred to God himself; and these conceptions are so 
 mild usually as not to harmonize with the inflexible, 
 and in many respects terrible, agencies which enter 
 into the operations and works by which the great 
 aims of beneficence are achieved. Goodness to 
 most persons is but a soft and gentle sentiment. 
 Love must always speak, they suppose, in voices 
 mild and calm. Surely a friend will be very gentle. 
 Under these ideas the Infinite of God ceases to influ 
 ence and to awe the worshipper. The great and the 
 overshadowing majesty of the Divine power and pre 
 sence are merged into thoughts of downy softness. 
 God becomes an Eternal Smile, a vast example 
 of good-natured pliancy ! Worship becomes a whis-
 
 SUPREMACY OF HEART. 391 
 
 per, and preaching a fair collection of sunbeams and 
 roses. No man is deeply conscious of the sacred 
 awe which the worship of the Infinite always inspires, 
 and which has been an element of every religion 
 since the world began. Hence our present religious 
 ideas are not so creative of great characters, are not 
 adapted to bring into being any gigantic forms of 
 faith and energy. Must we not return once more 
 to the worship of God as the Infinite, as the Sover 
 eign, as the All-Present ? A religion which does 
 not awe as well as charm us, which does not impress 
 us with the vast and overshadowing majesty and 
 might of God, is true neither to nature, the soul, nor 
 the sacred writings of our own or of other religions. 
 I say, we must return to the Infinite, not to be over 
 whelmed and crushed as in the prostrate homage of 
 the orientalist, but to rise and expand with the Vast- 
 ness we adore. Among the towering forms and 
 points of nature, among great mountains that raise 
 their solemn heads far into the skies, among catar 
 acts that fill us with a vast astonishment, we expand 
 with the surrounding shapes of power and greatness. 
 They exhilarate us. We are not overwhelmed and 
 broken down by these material hints of infinitude. 
 Thus would we s*tand amidst the towering truths of 
 religion, among the vast ideas of a Divine presence, 
 in the full possession of the soul's serenest compo 
 sure, of its true independence and dignity ; not to be 
 broken down by their grandeur, but to rise and to 
 glow with the greatness we see and feel. This 
 nearness of Divinity in the idea of love has doubtless 
 given self-recovery to the worshipper, so that man is
 
 392 
 
 SUPREMACY OF HEART. 
 
 now prepared to come to the Infinite in a manner 
 to be invigorated and inspired by his presence. 
 
 It should be remembered, when we speak of divine 
 goodness, that God is the Infinite Love, and that the 
 laws and agencies by which this love is expressed 
 are those that become an Infinite Mind. He acts 
 through an infinite variety of forms. All the mild 
 and gentle agencies, all the awe-inspiring forces of 
 his universe, are equally the needed modes of good 
 ness. If we take the external universe as the type 
 of the true idea, we shall see that under the smile of 
 beneficence lies the stern and infinite grandeur of 
 sovereignty. The order of nature is fixed. Every 
 natural law is in reality as inflexible as fate, though 
 it operates under the most gentle and attractive 
 forms. Did a single retributive law of the universe 
 ever say to him who might have run against it, " I 
 beg your pardon " ? No. He only must make the 
 change. Indeed, I know not where the evidences, 
 exhibiting the changeless might and goodness of the 
 divine will, would end if faithfully pursued ; for all 
 things become willing witnesses. As nature must 
 truly represent the Mind whence it came, it follows 
 that no theology is true which does not accord with 
 its plain instructions. If nature was nothing but 
 down, sunbeam, and zephyr, then I would listen 
 more willingly to a gospel which is only down, sun 
 beam, and zephyr. But it speaks of an Infinite, of 
 a Sovereign, of a Father ; and the full power which 
 the true idea of God is destined to exert, will proba 
 bly never be witnessed, until these ideas, purified 
 from their former excesses, blend harmoniously into
 
 SUPREMACY OF HEART. 
 
 393 
 
 one representation. Then earnestness will be re 
 vived. Religion will then have stronger elements. 
 The softness which eats out the very soul of energy, 
 when it becomes the central principle, will no longer 
 unman our piety ; nor will the element of power find 
 expression in dogmas of cruelty, that shock and of 
 fend all that the Creator has written on the human 
 heart. God is Infinite Love. But behold through 
 what variety of forms, through what inflexibility of 
 laws, through what powerful as well as graceful 
 agencies, does this goodness seek expression ! 
 
 When the true man acts from love as the central 
 power, his modes may also be various. He may 
 have traits as stern as hills of granite-rock, purposes 
 as permanent as adamant, united to the affectional 
 sensibility that makes him alive to the slightest shades 
 of sentiment. I offer these remarks to clear away 
 the abuses to which the idea I would here set forth is 
 liable, and which I fear it not unfrequently suffers. 
 
 As love is the central principle of man's life, it has 
 the central Being of the universe for its first object. 
 He purifies the heart. He enlarges its benevolence. 
 Man, or the race, is its second. The universe 
 that intervenes between the soul and the Creator 
 is the fuel of an ennobling and worshipful affec 
 tion. Perhaps the practical thought of this whole 
 subject is, that man should be full of heart, that he 
 should purify his love, should be deeply earnest and 
 sincere. Then it would seem that God, nature, hu 
 manity, and Christ are leagued together for his fur 
 therance and support.
 
 394 
 
 LIFE AN ORIGINAL POWER. 
 
 ORIGINAL power subordinates and transforms that 
 which it receives, so perfectly that you no longer see 
 the material it accepts. It converts to itself, whilst it 
 remains unchanged, the sole determining principle. 
 Judged by this trait of original force, what is there 
 so original as Life ? 
 
 In yonder grove, select for a moment's observation 
 ten trees of different races, and five flowers of dif 
 ferent orders and classes. They all flourish on the 
 same soil, and under the same sky. Life in each is 
 fed by nutritious particles from the same external 
 sources ; and why do not the particles which feed 
 this various life give a sameness of character to each 
 tree and flower ? Why is the beach so purely a 
 beach, the oak and the wild-rose so purely them 
 selves ? Only because life is original. Having a 
 different peculiarity or genius in each, it chooses its 
 particles wisely, and transforms them all into its own 
 nature and uses. As this originality of life is never 
 lost, each vegetable race retains its characteristics for 
 ever. The chemist may dissolve each vegetative form 
 into its former gases ; but the life which combines 
 them he can never dissolve. Behold how many 
 contributions there are from sun and rain and air
 
 LIFE AN ORIGINAL POWER. 395 
 
 and earth, to the life of every shrub ! And yet who 
 can detect in the living form the least indication of 
 the sources whence it lives ? To common observa 
 tion, nothing is said about these. Every thing is so 
 perfectly changed in growing into the life of the 
 object, that nothing is reported of the former ele 
 ments. Thus, too, does life work in the many ani 
 mals which subsist on the same food. Thus in man's 
 bodily organism does life operate. You recognize 
 the form of health and the face of joy, but nothing 
 of the bread by which he lives. 
 
 It is thus with the soul's life, when permitted to 
 work after its own law ; when pride, subserviency, 
 and other causes, do not misguide and weaken its 
 wonderful agencies. The intellect of the true man 
 is indebted to others : their thoughts have quickened 
 his own. From associates, books, events, and na 
 ture, he constantly receives impressions. Surround 
 ing influences sustain his life. But, if he is natural 
 and true, these are transformed, changed, so that all 
 you see is himself, not the associates, books, events, 
 and external nature. You may know him ; but in 
 him you do not recognize his helps. It is after this 
 manner that genuine virtue grows. You witness 
 the goodness, as a living original force, without 
 detecting in it St. Paul, Howard, or all the host 
 that are dear to sainted memory. Thus is all- 
 perfect spiritual life original, capable of subduing 
 to its own genius and uses the whole circle of for 
 eign impression. In the virtue of Christ, this view 
 is beautifully present. Though his character was 
 manifested amidst the trials and temptations com-
 
 396 LIFE AN ORIGINAL POWER. 
 
 mon to others, it was incomparably above the sacred 
 thoughts and most approved religious standards of 
 his times ; whilst the teachings of the Father are so 
 unfolded in him as to appear the natural manifesta 
 tions of his own mind. I know of no character so 
 truly original, and none in whom you detect so little 
 of foreign impression. " In him was Life." 
 
 As each life in nature gives the true symbol of 
 original power, it should reprove an idea of some 
 considerable popularity, that Eclecticism is to restore 
 to mankind, or to win for them, the highest wisdom 
 and happiness. What thought is more thoroughly 
 stricken with poverty than that mere selection from 
 a thousand creeds and theories shall ever make any 
 man rich in wisdom ? As well make a volume of 
 extracts superior to the various force of one mind, 
 richly endowed with creative energy. Life never 
 was an eclectic. The universe would die in three 
 days, if compulsorily brought down to this principle 
 of action. True, in every growth, there is a selec 
 tion from various sources ; but it is the power to 
 change and to transform the substances chosen, 
 to appropriate and incorporate the changed proper 
 ties, that constitutes the higher life-action of the 
 world. 
 
 New thoughts and principles naturally take new 
 forms of expression. Why should a new faith steal 
 the phraseology of one that is old and respected ? 
 What a laughable attempt had it been, if the framers 
 of this government had tried to have embodied the 
 ideas of the Declaration into the old monarchial 
 forms ! Europe, in her great battles for popular
 
 LIFE AN ORIGINAL POWER. 397 
 
 freedom, must learn, we think, not to pour new 
 wine into old bottles. The great Teacher would not 
 seek to embody his new life and thought into the old 
 forms of Judaism, lest both should be lost. And 
 why should new sects or denominations, who have 
 had their origin in a faith differing from others, seek 
 to win standing or power by conformity and imita 
 tion ? There is no way so sure to lose both. No 
 thing is so certain of success as a calm faithfulness 
 to the dictates of one's own original life. 
 
 Nature also intimates a good rebuke. She boasts 
 no originality of method. She conceals, rather than 
 displays, her noblest processes. Her originality is 
 simple and silent. She also teaches that life is pro 
 tective against death. Organizations dissolve not till 
 their life is gone. Who, then, should mourn over 
 rotting logs, over parlies and states that ought to 
 have died ? 
 
 ;
 
 393 
 
 THE OLD AND THE NEW. 
 
 THE old teach the young. The young interest the 
 old. The child mysteriously draws around itself 
 the attention and kindness of a whole company. 
 Youth also must care for age, and open the doors of 
 new and energetic enterprise. 
 
 It is good to look out among material things, and 
 behold the meetings of age and youth, of old and 
 new. That substance in the green leaf of June is 
 old as time, but the foliage is new-born. The true 
 office of the old appears to be the production of the 
 new. Yonder stands a forest of many trees, through 
 whose tops the winds of many winters have sung ; 
 and their venerable forms will soon mingle with dust. 
 But, ere they fall, they drop on the bosom of the 
 earth their respective seeds, each containing the en 
 tire life and form of its parent stock, invisibly and 
 mysteriously wrapped up in itself. The earth in 
 silence accepts these feeble offerings, and through 
 her care spring up the new races of vegetative life. 
 The new, in time, also grows old ; but, ere it dis 
 appears, invests its life in seminal forms. Thus goes 
 on the great succession. There is no conflict here 
 between old school and new school. All is calm 
 and noiseless, except when the mighty and dying
 
 THE OLD AND THE NEW. 399 
 
 old falls to the earth ; when the genius of life seems 
 to say, " I have other uses for you. Come down, 
 ye worthy patriarchs, and subserve my ends by dis 
 solution. You have had your day. Give place for 
 youth." Thus the circle of life goes on unceasingly. 
 But, supposing the old oaks so stubborn as suc 
 cessfully to resist this mandate, what chance would 
 there be for the acorns ? What would become of 
 nature's youthfulness and inspiring charm ? In the 
 animal kingdom the same law prevails. The new 
 perpetually springs from the old. 
 
 There is something analogous to what I have 
 stated in the intellectual and moral world. The 
 mission of the old is to produce the new. Old truths 
 traced out yield us new truths. Forget not Newton 
 and the apple. New sciences always come of old 
 ones, of facts and truths previously held. The Old 
 World discovered the New, gave it inhabitants and 
 laws. As for the ideas peculiar to the American 
 government, their parentage can be easily traced to 
 Europe. Judaism also preceded Christianity ; and 
 its grand purpose was to prepare the world for its 
 birth, to substantiate and confirm it. Romanism 
 gave us the Reformation. From every old school 
 there grows up a new school. But the work here is 
 not peacefully wrought, as in nature, where a wiser 
 than wise men governs. There is a fight between 
 the two. Men, holding to the all-sufficiency of the 
 old truth, dispute for a time the new truth. The Old 
 World makes war on the New. The Jews crucify 
 Jesus. Romanism and Protestantism fight great bat 
 tles. Every old school draws a sword on every
 
 400 THE OLD AND THE NEW. 
 
 new school. But as the changes of old and new in 
 vegetative life subserve the great ends of the uni 
 verse, so there is a sense in which these earnest 
 conflicts aid the cause of human reform. But it 
 appears possible that this good might be more peace 
 fully wrought under a wider comprehensiveness, 
 were all disposed to see that it takes the whole world 
 to represent all the truth it contains, that old ideas in 
 faithful hands bring new ones, and that no one mode 
 of opinion should last always. Every epoch exhibits 
 this contest of new and old. It is readily conceded 
 that mind is free ; that its action is not involuntary, 
 like the growth and decay of outward nature ; that 
 the new it produces is not a necessary copy of the old. 
 But the likeness between the true mission of the old 
 in theory, and the old in vegetative life, is so strik 
 ing ; and the contrast between nature's comprehen 
 sive management of new and old in her dominions, 
 and the angry strifes that get between the two in 
 human sociely, is so bold, that the question could not 
 be well suppressed, Would it not be good, at least 
 once a year, to send all old and new school belliger 
 ents into the forest to learn from nature a calm lesson 
 of mutual politeness ? Should they imbibe the spirit 
 of her teaching, they would doubtless return calmed 
 in their feelings, taking in a wider horizon, and bet 
 ter prepared both to understand and to appreciate 
 each other.
 
 or CALIFORNIA MBRARY 
 
 Los Angeles 
 
 
 315
 
 3 1158 00662 7094 
 
 UC SOUTHERN REG ONAL L BRAKY FAC LIT 
 
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