strong perverting influence, and unless those views also wear omething of the appearance of reality. Illustrations of the rehark just quoted, will be found as we proceed, even in the grossst forms of delusiou. On the other hand, much error may be elieved, even by enlightened minds, when presented in connecon with important truth. The error and the truth, taken together, onstitutes a whole, the versimilitude of which deceives the menal eye. Certain views appear like the truth, and without horough examination, are confided in, as such. Theologicl errors often arise and are perpetuated in this very way. Objections are brought against fundamental doctrines of the ible, and the theologian is obliged to meet them. His phiosophy, not his common sense, furnishes him with an explanaion which he thinks will answer, and by association, it soon becomes as sacred in his eyes as the doctrine itself; and then he will is soon part with the bible as with his favorite theory. In his estimation, they stand or fall together. The truth of the doctrine shields the falsity from examination. Such is the orgin of many a theological dogma.

We have alluded to the theory of our author, that all the systems of religious belief which have prevailed in countries destitute of revelation, are reducible to two, polytheism and pantheism. Polytheism supposes the existence, and embraces the worship, of many deities, to each of which it assigns a proper and distinct individuality. According to the scheme of pantheism, there is but one original principle, from which all existence, material and intelligent, springs or emanates. This is the earliest form of pantheism, and is called the Emanative System. Strict pantheism, however, is a refinement even upon this, It con

siders the universe itself as God, and as truly and properly constituting but one existence. The emanative system forms the religious belief of the Hindoos generally at the present day, and is extensively prevalent among the philosophers and divines of Germany. In our own country we have a modification of pantheism in the doctrine of divine efficiency. According to that doctrine, God is the originator not only of all being, but of all action, even the volitions of his creatures. This resembles pantheism, inasmuch as it makes God the only real agent in the universe, and refers all events, as well the choices of intelligent beings, as the changes of the material world, to his direct physical agency, which agency, moreover, is resolved into acts of the divine will. Thus, on the scheme of divine efficiency, all the changes that take place, both in the natural and moral world, either virtually are, or directly flow from, acts of the divine will; and, in the emanative form of Pantheism, "all

changes are considered as taking place in the divine substance itself." The doctrine in question, therefore, is essentially pantheistic.

In comparing polytheism with pantheism, we find that the former is more congenial to the human mind, of earlier origin, and has more universally prevailed, where there has been no revelation. It is the religion of the populace, the growth of superst tion, addressed to the senses, rather than to the intellect. Pantheism, on the other hand, is an intellectual systein, the growth of philosophy, the religion of the learned, too refined for the mass of a people. Polytheism calls to activity in the various observances of an extensive and imposing system of worship; Pantheism invites to the quiet contemplation of high and absorbing mysteries, awarding the reputation of superior sanctity to him who shall come nearest to the state of calm and lofty repose. Comparing the verisimilitude of the two systems, we observe that polytheism teaches the distinct individuality and voluntary agency of all intelligent beings, both God, and the creatures of his power; approximates to the idea of a moral government on the part of God, and an accountability on the part of man; and keeps in view, not indeed with the clearness and impressiveness of gospel light, yet truly, the social relations of man to his fellow. Pantheism takes away the idea that man is a real agent, and annihilates of course the idea of accountability, of law given, and government exercised on the part of God, of obligation to obey on the part of man, and danger from his displeasure. It strikes moreover at the root of all social, communicated happiness, by requiring and promoting a state of passivity or perfect indifference, in regard to all the concerns of life, as the best preparative for being swallowed up in the great ocean of existence. But wide as the distinction is between truth and Pantheism, it is remarkable that the same language may be made the vehicle of both. The Hindoo priest would unite with Madame Guion, and Madame Guion would unite with the true christian, in saying "that God is all, and in all;" but the sense in which the two former would use the language, would be wide as the poles apart from that of the latter. The priest of Hindooism would express his belief that every thing existing, matter or mind, is a part of the divine being. Madame Guion would express as strong a conviction as she could possibly make herself feel, that she was, and ought to feel herself to be properly and metaphysically, nothing, a mere cypher; while the christian would assert in this language, the universal dominion of God over the intelligent and material universe. It is obvious to notice the resemblance of these errors to the truth, as well as their distance from it.

In the progress of his work we often find Mr. Douglass ascribing the ignorance and error of the heathen world to the weakmess of the human understanding. "If ever truth could have

been discovered and excogitated by the human mind itself, it must have been in the favored times and situation of Greece." Such have been the sentiments of many, but St. Paul shall be our authority for a contrary doctrine. Speaking of these very philosophers whose highest efforts Mr. D. supposes not only to have been actually, but necessarily unsuccessful, he says that they "held the truth in unrighteousness," i. e. unrighteously detained it from the mass of the people, and gave them vile superstition in stead. If they did this, they were not only competent to know the truth, but did actnally know it to some extent; and it is to no purpose, now to set up a defense for them on the ground of their inability. The apostle has decided the whole question for us. It had been found by abundant experience, that there are some truths which none would ever discover; that there are others, which, though obvious and well known to philosophers, would not be communicated by them to the world; and that a direct revelation, with a peculiar accompaniment of impressive, providential influences, was necessary to secure the effect of truth revealed, and of truth already known. Here, we think, is the true account of the necessity of a revelation. Mr. D. makes a distinction between "that which is discoverable by reason, and that which is demonstrable by reason, when once discovered." The difference though often dwelt on, is not apparent to our minds. If we have access to the proof of any fact, we certainly have access to the fact itself; as truly as the sum of two numbers is known, when the numbers themselves are given. To suppose a thing to be "demonstrable by reason," is to suppose that reason can find the materials for the demonstration; and with the necessary materials, or facts, for proving any truth, the truth itself is attainable. So the apostle supposes, that the gentiles might have known all that was necessary to be known of God, yvworov rou sou, because the evidence lay before them in the "things which are made." The fact that the requisite evidence was accessible, led St. Paul unhesitatingly to assert that the truths proved by it, "the eternal power and godhead" of the Divine Being, were "manifest" to them, or discoverable, if not discovered.

One remark we would make here on the habit of decrying the power of reason, or of the human mind, to discover moral truth. Its tendency is powerfully to lighten conscience of guilt and lessen the sense of responsibility. The excuses we make for others, are the more zealously searched out, and the more cheerfully given, because, when occasion demands, they will answer VOL. IV.

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just as well for ourselves. Or perhaps it is a "voluntary humility," the result of an impression, that the soul has not only used its moral powers wrong, but that its intellectual faculties are miserably poor and defective, and the more deeply sensible we are of that fact, the better we are. Such feelings are not founded on just views of things, or of the will of God. Men do not generally fail in the perception of truth and duty, certainly not until they have, by habitual sin, blinded their own eyes. Intellect and conscience do their office, even when we little suppose it to be the case. We do not speak here of those dark and misty reasonings which are sent up from a perverse heart, to becloud the understanding; beneath them, there is always an undercurrent of clear conception and strong conviction of the truth, which tests ard proves, if any thing can, the genuine power of human reason in its appropriate exercise, to discern the realities of things. But there are limits, and those speedily attained, where that power fails. Within them, why may not we walk, as if we were treading upon solid ground, as the Author of reason doubtless intended we should? Beyond them, it would be of no practical benefit, if we could go, and therefore we need not mourn over the weakness of reason. Its powers are exactly fitted to our condition, and relatively to that condition, are neither weak nor strong, neither occasion for pride, nor self-contempt.

The use of reason in religion has been a subject of much dispute. The views of Mr. Douglas on this point, appear to be somewhat vague and indefinite. At one time, he admits, that in the highest sense of the language, "no doctrine is to be received that is contrary to reason;" at another, he condemns, the principle, "that whatever human reason stigmatizes as false, should by no means be received as true in theology." It is evident at once, that no advance can be made towards settling the question, without fixing the sense in which the word reason is to be used. If by reason is meant a power competent to decide infallibly on the truth or falsity of every thing that may be contained in a professed revelation, independent of the evidence that such a rerelation is from a perfect God, we say, and all would doubtless say, that there is no such power in the human mind. It is plain that there may be facts, and it is even unphilosophical not to suppose that there are, which, in the present circumstances of our being, we cannot know, unless God reveals them; and which, when revealed, may be found to be of a nature altogether different from any thing with which we were before acquainted. The boundless circle of divine knowledge undoubtedly embraces multitudes of facts, bearing no resemblance to any thing known on earth; and when a professed revelation come to us with a declaration of a fact of this kind, what other evidence can we find,

of any kind or degree, respecting the truth or falsity of the decaration, except simply that which bears upon the question of its Hivine origin? The declared fact is, by the supposition, above, not contrary to the analogies of human knowledge. It is not conrary to any of these analogies, because none of them touch the subject. In such a case then, how can man decide a priori, independent of the evidence of divine testimony, any more than an untutored savage can decide on the correctness of Kepler's laws, by referring to something within the circle of his previous knowledge, refusing all confidence in the superior knowledge of the individual who should repeat them to him? Even if we should, therefore, admit it as a correct principle, that "no doctrine is to be received as true, which is contrary to reason," there might be many declarations in a professed revelation, and doubtless would be many in a true one, which the principle would not touch. No one has ever so defined reason as that, under the shadow of his definition, its decisions could with propriety be maintained to cover the whole ground over which God may lead us in a revelation, and, we may say, has actually led us, in that which he has given.

In the second place, if by reason is meant the human understanding perverted by the influence of the will, or heart, desiring countenance in its evil purposes, we say at once that the whole system of religious truth is opposed to whatever decisions may be made by the understanding, or reason, under such an influence. For what is the nature of these decisions? Are they the real convictions of the mind respecting what is, in fact, true, or false? Are they not rather, first, wishes that certain things may prove true, then indefinite hopes that they will, and lastly, the light of truth having all the while been studiously kept out of view, and those things alone contemplated, which are favorable to the desired conclusion,-a kind of half-persuasion that they are? a persuasion, which, as it is the creature of darkness, is always instantly dissipated before the light of truth, and then the real convictions of the mind, its true decisions, start forth clear and triumphant. Persuasions of this kind, if they deserve to be called by that name, are indeed irreconcilable with the great doctrines of the christian system. That system was designed to destroy their influence, to annihilate them, and to quicken the dormant energies of truth which are latent in the mind. Views of things formed in the manner described, are essential errors; and to say that no doctrine is to be received which is contrary to them, is to say that no doctrine is to be received which is true. We might as well hope to reconcile holiness and sin, right and wrong, ignorance and knowledge, as the truth of God with those decisions of reason which are made under the influence of a perverse heart.