his mind, we may be permitted to conjecture, that he and his system would never have come together.

'It is natural for the mature mind to ask the cause of things. It is unsatisfied when it does not find one, and can hardly exclude the thought of that Being, from whom all things exist. When therefore we have gone beyond the circle of youthful knowledge, and found a phenomenon in nature, which in its insulated state fills us with the admiration of God; let us beware how we quench this feeling. Let us rather transfer something of this admiration to those phenomena of the same class, which have not hitherto directed our minds beyond the fact of their actual cxistence. As the mind extends the boundaries of its knowledge, let a holy reference to God descend into its youthful treasures. That light which in the distance seemed to be a miraculous blaze, as it falls on our own native hills may still seem divine, but will not surprise us; and a sense of the constant presence of God will be happily blended with the most perfect freedom.

'Till the time of Newton, the motion of the heavenly bodies was in the strictest sense a miracle. It was an event which stood alone, and was probably regarded with peculiar reference to the Divine Being. The feeling of worship with which they had previously been regarded, had subsided into a feeling of wonder; till at length they were received into the family of our most familiar associations. There is one step further. It is to regard gravitation wherever it may be found, as an effect of the constant agency of the Divine Being, and from a consciousness of his presence and co-operation in every step we take, literally "to walk humbly with our God." It is agreeable to the laws of moral and intellectual progression, that all phenomena, whether of matter or mind, should become gradually classified; till at length all things, wherever they are found; all events, whether of history or experience, of mind or matter; shall at once conspire to form one stupendous miracle, and cease to be such. 'They will form a miracle, in that they are seen to depend constantly and equally on the power of the Lord; and they will cease to be a miracle, in that the power which pervades them, is so constant, so uniform and so mild in its operation, that it produces nothing of fear, nothing of surprise. From whatever point we contemplate the scene, we feel that we are still in our Father's house; go where we will, the paternal roof, the broad canopy of heaven is extended over us.' pp. 14, 15.

In that developement which the nature of the mind requires,' our author gives the first place to the natural sciences; those

which relate to the animal, vegetable, and mineral kingdoms. He speaks in glowing terms of the effect, which the study of nature is likely to have on the growth of the intellectual and moral faculties.

The care of God provides for the flower of the field, a place wherein it may grow, regale with its fragrance, and delight with its beauty. Is his providence less active over those, to whom this flower offers its incense? No. The soil which produces the vine in its most healthy luxuriance, is not better adapted to the end, than the world we inhabit to draw forth the latent energies of the soul, and fill them with life and vigour. As well might the eye see without light, or the ear hear without sound; as the human mind be healthy and athletic, without descending into the natural world, and breathing the mountain air. Is there aught in eloquence, which warms the heart? She draws her fire from natural imagery. Is there aught in poetry to enliven the imagination? There is the secret of all her power. Is there aught in science to add strength and dignity to the human mind? The natural world is only the body, of which she is the soul. In books, science is presented to the eye of the pupil, as it were in a dried and preserved state; the time may come when the instructer will take him by the hand, and lead him by the running streams, and teach him all the principles of science as she comes from her Maker, as he would smell the fragrance of the rose without gathering it.' p. 20.

Poetry and music arise from the proper study of the works of God; and deserve, as this writer thinks, a careful cultivation, with a particular reference to their true nature and objects, which he undertakes to explain. His remarks under this head are strongly tinctured by his religious peculiarities; but there is a redeeming power in the fine vein of moral feeling pervading them. The objection just stated is not felt so much in reading the following striking passage.

The state of poetry has always indicated the state of science and religion. The Gods are hardly missed more, when removed from the temples of the ancients, than they are when taken from their poetry; or than theory is when taken from their philosophy. Fiction ceases to be pleasing when it ceases to gain credence; and what they admired in itself, commands much of its admiration now, as a relic of antiquity. The painting which in a darkened room only impressed us with the reality, as the sun rises upon it discovers the marks of the pencil; and that shade of the mind can never again return, which gave to ancient poetry its vividness and its power. Of this we may be sensible, by only

considering how entirely powerless it would be, if poetry in all respects similar were produced at the present day. A man's religious sentiments, and his knowledge of the sciences, are so entirely interwoven with all his associations; they shed such light throughout every region of the mind; that nothing can please which is directly opposed to them-and though the forms which poetry may offer, may sometimes be presented, where this light begins to sink into obscurity; they should serve, like the sky and the clouds, as a relief to the eye, and not like some unnatural body protruding on the horizon, disturb the quiet they are intended to produce. When there shall be a religion which shall see God in every thing, and at all times; and the natural sciences not less than nature itself, shall be regarded in connexion with Him-the fire of poetry will begin to be kindled in its immortal part, and will burn without consuming. The inspiration so often feigned, will become real; and the mind of the poet will feel the spark which passes from God to nature.' pp. 23, 24.

But Mr Reed does not leave the mind to the influence of natural objects, and the sciences and arts which result from a study of nature, alone. He calls in another power, 'the power of the Word of God.' He maintains, that it is not a mere metaphor, but a plain and simple fact, that the Spirit of Godis as necessary to the developement of the mind, as the power of the natural sun to the growth of vegetables, and in the same way.' In the following passages he describes the gradual and imperceptible manner, in which revelation works its destined changes in the individual and society.

'It is not consistent with the nature of things, that the full practical effect of a subject should be at once revealed to the mind. The child is led on to a knowledge of his letters, by a thousand little enticements, and by the tender coercion of parental authority, while he is yet ignorant of the treasures mysteriously concealed in their combinations. The arts have been courted merely for the transient gratification they afford. Their con-nexion with religion and with the sciences is beginning to be discovered; and they are yet to yield a powerful influence in imparting to the mind, its moral harmony and proportions. The sciences themselves have been studied principally as subjects of speculation and amusement. They have been sought for the gratification they afford, and for the artificial standing they give in society, by the line of distinction which is drawn between the learned and the vulgar. The discovery of their connexion with the actual condition of man, is of later origin; and though their application to use is yet in its infancy, they are beginning to throw

a light on almost every department of labour, hitherto unexampled in the annals of the world. Religion too has been a subject of speculation, something evanescent, a theory, a prayer, a hope. It remains for this also to become practical, by the actual accomplishment of that which it promises. It remains for the promise of reward to be swallowed up in the work of salvation. It remains for the soul to be restored to its union with God-to heaven. Christianity is the tree of life again planted in the world; and by its own vital power it has been, year after year, casting off the opinions of men, like the external bark which partakes not of its life. It remains for the human mind to become conformed to its spirit, that its principles may possess the durability of their origin.' pp. 31, 32.

We have room for but one extract more. This relates to the preparation of mind necessary to a proper understanding of the Scriptures.

There is one law of criticism, the most important to the thorough understanding of any work, which seems not to have been brought sufficiently into view in the study of the Bible. It is that by which we should be led by a continued exercise of those powers which are most clearly demonstrated in an author; by continued habits of mind and action; to approximate to that intellectual and moral condition, in which the work originated. If it were desired to make a child thoroughly acquainted with the work of a genuine poet, I would not put the poem and lexicon in his hand and bid him study and learn-I would rather make him familiar with whatever was calculated to call forth the power of poetry in himself, since it requires the exercise of the same powers to understand, that it does to produce. I would point him to that source from which the author himself had caught his inspiration, and as I led him to the baptismal fount of nature, I would consecrate his powers to that Being from whom nature exists. I would cultivate a sense of the constant presence and agency of God, and direct him inward to the presence chamber of the Most High, that his mind might become imbued with His spirit. I would endeavour by the whole course of his education to make him a living poem, that when he read the poetry of others, it might be effulgent with the light of his own mind. The poet stands on the mountain with the face of nature before him, calm and placid. If we would enter into his views, we must go where he is. We must catch the direction of his eye, and yield ourselves up to the instinctive guidance of his will, that we may have a secret foretaste of his meaning-that we may be conscious of the image in its first conception-that we may perceive its beginnings and gradual growth, till at length it becomes

distinctly depicted on the retina of the mind. Without this, we may take the dictionary in our hands and settle the definition of every word, and still know as little of the lofty conceptions of the author, as the weary traveller who passes round in the farthest verge which is visible from the mountain, knows of the scenery which is seen from its summit.'

pp. 32, 33.

Our readers must not suppose, that the citations, which we have given, present a fair specimen of the work before us; for we have endeavoured to select such passages as all might understand and approve, though even in regard to these passages some allowances must be made for the mysticism peculiar to the writer's sect; and besides, we by no means feel ourselves bound to follow him in all the applications he would make of the principles he has laid down, even where we approve the principles themselves. There are portions of this pamphlet which will suggest no idea whatever to most minds, those particularly which relate to what may be called the metaphysics of his subject. We might adduce numerous examples in illustration of this remark, but the following will suffice.

It is agreeable to our nature, that the mind should be particuarly determined to one object. The eye appears to be the point, at which the united rays of the sun within and the sun without converge to an expression of unity; and accordingly the understanding can be conscious of but one idea or image at a time. Still there is another and a different kind of consciousness which pervades the mind, which is coextensive with every thing it actually possesses. There is but one object in nature on which the eye looks directly, but the whole body is pervaded with nerves which convey perpetual information of the existence and condition of every part. So it is with the possessions of the mind; and when an object ceases to be the subject of this kind of consciousness, it ceases to be remembered.' p. 15.

'All growth or developement is effected from within, outward. It is so with animals; it is so with vegetables; it is so with the body; it is so with the mind. Were it not for a power within the soul, as the soul is within the body, it could have no possibility of subsistence. That the growth of the material part depends on the presence of that which is spiritual, is obvious from the fact, that at death the former falls to decay. If it were possible for God to be detached from our spiritual part, this would decay likewise. The doctrine then of the immortality of the soul is simply, "I in my Father, and ye in me, and I in you." It is the union of the Divine, with the human-of that from which all