PRELIMINARY ESSAY.

BY THE REV. JOHN M'VICKAR.

In the following reprint of Coleridge's "Aids to Reflection" as recently put forth in London, by his nephew and executor, with the author's final amendments, the Preface therein adopted of the earlier American edition of 1829, has been after full consideration dropped. It is due to the American public as well as to the extended reputation of that Preface, and of its able author, the Key. Dr. James Marsh, to state the reasons which in the judgment of the present editor have rendered its republication inexpedient in connexion with the present stereotype edition, addressed as the work now is generally to the Church at large, but more especially to the members of that communion of which its eminent and lamented author was an affectionate and faithful son.

The reasons are as follows:

1. That such Preface is mainly occupied in justifying Coleridge and his philosophy against objections which have no place except on the Calvinistic scheme of Divinity. But these obviously are difficulties in the way of the reception not of Coleridge's but of his commentator's opinions, objections therefore not with churchmen but with dissenters from the Church.

2. That it inculcates what is deemed a false and dangerous principle, viz. that some system of metaphysical pbilosophy

[continue]is essential to soundness in Christian doctrine. "For myself" says Dr. Marsh, "I am fully convinced that we can have no right views of Theology till we have right views of the human mind," (Preface p. 23.) Now this certainly is not the creed of the Church nor the spirit of its formularies, and as surely it is not the principle inculcated by his author. "Religion," says Coleridge, "has no speculative dogmas-Christianity is not a theory, or a speculation; but a life:—not a philosophy of life, but a life and a living process," (p. 150).
3. That it tends to a misapprehension of Coleridge's Religious views by identifying them with "what among us," says Dr. Marsh, "are termed the Evangelical Doctrines of Religion," (p. 14.) Now this term used as a party name, in which sense alone it can be here understood, is one peculiarly inappropriate as applied to Coleridge—for not only does he everywhere magnify those doctrines which such teachers are understood to make light of; viz., the necessity of union with the one viable Church, and of communion in its spiritual sacraments, and the sin of schism in separating from it; not only too does he decry what such doctrine is understood to elevate, viz., that "the baptized," to use Coleridge's own words, "are each individually to be called, converted, and chosen, with all the corollaries from this assumption, the watching for signs and sensible assurances, the frames, and the states, and the feelings, and the sudden conversions"--doctrines, says he, which have "never been in any age taught or countenanced by any known or accredited Christian church, or by any body and succession of learned Divines"--not only does he thus teach in double opposition to them, but he further expressly discards the name, and speaks with but little respect of what he terms "the contagious fever-boils of the (most unfitly so called) Evangelicals," (p. 242, note). Now, whether right or wrong in his judgment of them, our author certainly, at least, is not to be ranked under the same distinctive appellation with them. ix 4. That its unqualified eulogium of Coleridge and his opinions renders it an unsafe guide for young and enthusiastic minds, and may lead many of its readers, as it certainly tends to lead all, into a dangerous over trust on human and private authority in the interpretation of Divine truth. Fully sharing with Dr. Marsh as the present editor does, in his affectionate admiration of the genius and writings of Coleridge, and in his belief of their growing and happy influence on the rising generation, and acknowledging in common with him that debt incalculable which all feel as due to one whose words have been to their spirit "words of power," still must he follow Coleridge, and teach others to follow him as a fallible leader, with thoughtful and wary steps, and not only so, but as one who hath actually left behind him slippery as well as safe footprints, in the path of Religious inquiry.

And lastly, it is rejected as being a Preface which takes too much knowledge for granted on the part of the reader, to answer the present demand of an edition fitted for popular use. At the time it was written, Coleridge was a living teacher, and his speculations known and sought after only by the philosophic or professional student. Now his teaching has become the heritage of the public--his name that of an established classic, and his deep disquisitions are passing into the hands of thousands, to whom without some preparatory instruction, they are little better than a sealed book. Under such changed circumstances a new Preface, and one of another character, was obviously needed.

Such are the reasons which to the present editor have seemed imperiously to demand from him, with all the humility he felt for the task, a new, plainer, and more catholic Introduction to Coleridge's "Aids to Reflection."

In entering upon it, he would fain avoid all idea of competition with his predecessor, as being well aware that his own chief fitness for the task, and certainly his only vantage ground in it, arises from his being of "kin" in church and x doctrine with the author whose philosophy of both he presumes to comment upon. Than the writer of the rejected Preface, he is well aware, too, that few on this side the Atlantic have more deeply studied, none more eloquently eulogized this same Christian philosophy--and had Dr. Marsh been but as free to deduce from it its necessary results in Church and doctrine, untrammelled by the conditions of a self-constituted ministry, and the fetters of an incongruous metaphysical creed, as he was conclusive in his proof of the premises from which such conclusions flow--had it been thus--none can feel more convincingly than the present editor that in such case there would have been neither room nor demand for his present more humble labors.

With this prolonged explanation rendered indispensable by the circumstances of the case, he now proceeds to the task before him.

Historical Rise of the Philosophy of Coleridge.--Among the great thinkers of the generation now recently past away--few, if any can be named, no one certainly among those using the English language as the medium of thought--who has left behind him so deep and wide an intellectual impress as Coleridge--or given to the rising generation a stronger spiritual impulse. Nor have we as yet seen in all probability either its extent or depth. It has in truth but just begun to take hold upon the public sentiment. Hitherto Coleridge's teaching has formed but here and there an individual mind--or at best, built up some limited, unobserved fraternity of deep and quiet thinkers. It now, on the contrary, begins to indoctrinate the mass of the educated--to enter into general reasoning--bids fair to become the prevailing system taught in Protestant Christendom, and in the estimate of many is to be regarded as among the foremost means now obviously preparing, under the Providence of God, for bringing back an unspiritual age to an earlier, xi purer, and more Christian philosophy. Whatever estimate may be formed of its value, there can be no doubt of its spreading influence.

The story of its past slow progress is soon told. It began, as is well known, within the narrow circle of Coleridge's personal admirers, and with audience not always "fit tho' few." With the public at large Coleridge was from his earliest years a contemned or feared man--an enthusiast, a disorganizer, or a mystic--in youth decried as a leveller, in manhood as a homeless wanderer, in age as a religious dreamer--and it may not be denied but that some passages of both his public and private life as well as not a few of both his earlier and later tenets gave too good ground, at least on a superficial view, for such scornful estimate of the man and his opinions.

Under such load of contumely, deepened by his characteristic peculiarities of style and thought, no wonder that the occasional works put forth by him whether in prose or verse, with all their rare learning, sweet eloquence, and deep spiritual power, qualities now universally accorded to them, fell almost still-born from the press--like their author at once condemned and scorned--"published" as remarked by his English editor "but not publici juris." To this rule if there was any exception, it relates to the present work "Aids to Reflection," and he never failed, his nephew tells us, to make " a special remark" if he found his visitor to have read the "Friend," or any other of his less known publications. Such, with some gradual enlargement of his philosophic circle, and a corresponding though slow advance of influence, continued to be Coleridge's literary position through life. Acknowledged genius and contemned opinions--his society courted but his books unread, and his teaching except over a chosen few, unfelt and unregarded.

His conversational powers on the other hand, or rather (for it was not con-versation) his deep discursive and eloquent soliloquies on all subjects brought before him by his visitors, xii whether of taste, politics, philosophy or Religion--these were from the very first both felt and acknowledged to be of magical influence. To these outpourings of a deeply learned but still more deeply self-communing spirit, and which, river-like, seemed to gather strength and volume as they flowed on in their solitary magnificence--his visitors were wont to listen in charmed and mostly silent amazement--for independently of the fascination of thought, their senses too, were taken prisoner; the richest melodies of musical utterance, features serene and passive, as of some sculptured demigod, and an eye inspiring awe from its statue-like, objectless gaze, all conspired to give to Coleridge when thus encircled somewhat of the power, as well as the appearance of an oracular Python, giving forth in solemn chant its mystic, and not always safely interpreted response, to questions reverently propounded by almost worshippers, for his solution. Under this aspect at least, Coleridge appeared to some who had casual access to his society, rather as a brilliant meteor flashing forth dark light, than as a steadfast luminary, by whose guidance Christians might safely walk; and there was unquestionably much in his manner, as well as somewhat in his occasional judgments, that might well excuse such hasty conclusion.*

But with the removal by death of this highly gifted mind, has come a more adequate sense of its value and loss, and a new era has consequently commenced in the history of its influence. Being dead, the Teacher now speaketh more truly than during life. Prejudice has died with the breathing man, and with the living voice and its enchantment, has passed away all possibility of future misapprehension. Coleridge

*In the columns of the Churchman, April 7th, 1832, the present editor has detailed an evening spent with Coleridge under such circumstances, in the month of June, 1830, in company with Irving the Scotch preacher, who had come to consult him touching the modern miracle, of the "gift of tongues." xiii now stands forth revealed to us in his works, and in his works alone. By them he is to be judged, and that verdict is already rendered. Hardly has the world of letters and philosophy, had time thoughtfully to peruse them, before with one voice it has united in ranking their author first among the deep thinkers of his own age and nation, and second to none in any, for his profound insight into the laws of our moral and spiritual being, and his clear, eloquent, and Christian exposition of the truths and duties that flow from them. Therefore in critical estimation is he already numbered with the greatest and wisest, that have ever been esteemed the lights and guides of the earth, and all that is now needed, as we think, to make his fame as wide as it is lofty, is what by degrees is actually effecting both in England and this country, through the medium of stereotype editions, and familiar explanations.

Nor will this triumph, we may confidently predict, of the vital principles of Coleridge's Philosophy, be either a partial or a temporary one; for it is the triumph not of opinions over opinions, but of principles over principles. It is not therefore an impression passively received, that subsequent impressions may efface, but it is the reception into the mind, of living truths--seeds sown in it--light kindled and the spirit of a better age recalled. It is something in short, which the needs of the heart of man as well as the demands of his reason, will not suffer, soon or ever again, we may hope, to be covered up and buried, as it has long been, whether under the flood of an epicurean, and basely material philosophy, or the shifting sands of phenomenal metaphysics, measuring spiritual things by the unspiritual faculty that judgeth according to sense, or the crumbling structure of a merely prudential, and a falsely named, rational faith, or last, but not least, under the modern baseless fabric of the Gospel of Christ without the Church of Christ--Christianity without its exponent. What limit will eventually be set to the influence of this philosophy, or with what rapidity it will xiv be found to advance, not, we mean in its "hay and stubble," but in its gold that stands the fire--that time alone will show. For the present, it is our willing part to labor within our narrow path, to remove or to level such obstructions as ignorance, error, or prejudice may have heretofore raised against it in our country.

Difficulties of Coleridge as arising from the character of his writings.--The chief Prose works of Coleridge are his "Friend," "Biographia Literaria," "Lay Sermons," "Church and State," and "Aids to Reflection." To these are now to be added his equally valuable though less connected disquisitions, which under the title of "Literary Remains," are at present in the course of publication in London, consisting of the contents of his various Note-Books, Marginal Annotations, &c., his usual desultory mode of writing, together with his "Table-Talk," so far at least as such record of his thoughts--genuine and valuable as it is, may be admitted into the list. It is a work at least to which may be justly applied his own eulogium of another--that "his sands were seed pearl." But in all these, one and the same difficulty meets the student, and that is, a frequent reference by the author to what the reader continually wants but can nowhere find, a clear, connected view of Coleridge's System of Philosophy. His speculations are all fragmentary, fractional parts as it were, of some great unity ever brooding in his teeming mind, but never sufficiently developed to be connectedly brought forth. The fulfilment however of such virtual promise under the title of "Philosophy reconciled with the Christian Religion," or as he entitles it more at large in the work before us, "The Assertion of Religion as necessarily involving Revelation, and of Christianity, as the only Revelation of permanent and universal validity;" this is well known to have occupied for many years much of his thoughts, being often alluded to in his writings, as in the present, where he terms it, "the principal labor of my life since manhood;" still xv more frequently and openly promised to his enquiring friends, and the hope of its completion, never finally abandoned by himself or despaired of by others, up to the very day of his death. But unhappily for the student, we may say, for the world, that hope is now past, and it will be a bold hand that shall undertake to build up that "temple" as he often reverently termed it, which such a master hand, after preparing the materials and laboring for years at the foundation, either faultered to attempt or failed to accomplish.

Such at any rate, is the aspect of Coleridge's recorded mind, and it is the feature from which springs much doubtless, of the earlier interest, as well as permanent difficulty of his writings. They awaken in the mind of the student, somewhat of the feelings that belong to the delighted yet bewildered traveller in "the gorgeous East," as he muses and mourns over the rich and scattered fragments of some unfinished temple in the desert, to which war or death seems to have put a hasty termination. The deep and solid foundations he sees are laid, and here and there perhaps a solitary column of granite or porphyry erected, giving promise by its enduring material, and its massive and fair proportions, and its richly sculptured capital, and its hieroglyphic frieze and base, what in grandeur and beauty the finished structure would have been, but leaving all else, whether of parts or finish, to vain and puzzled conjecture.

Such is the first aspect of Coleridge to the inquiring unsatisfied eye of the student, and for such disappointment in the midst of his admiration, he must prepare himself. How far this is a remediable defect in the writings of Coleridge, or how far it is but the necessary fate of all inquirers who seek to sound the depths of their own spirit, and to grasp by the power of reason, the circle within which reason is itself contained--this may be variously decided. That there are within us, secrets we cannot unravel and depths we cannot sound, no mind ever felt more deeply or reverently than that of Coleridge, but still it is the very aim of his philosophy to xvi bring us up to the verge of such insoluble problem and perhaps its occasional result however unintended, sometimes to tempt the arrogant or over-musing mind beyond it. But this is a different question from the attempt to reduce into order, and carry out into scientific arrangement, the unconnected truths so profusely scattered throughout his works. This surely may be done, though as surely, it is no easy task, since its accomplishment necessarily involves every question of mental and spiritual philosophy, and demands in them all that the solution given appear alike the product of reason, and the teaching of revelation. Such task it is evident can be successfully grappled with, only by one who shall be at the same time the deepest of philosophers and the most spiritual and learned of Christians.

But there is another hope, which is, that such development may be the maturing growth of many minds in many years--the fruit in short in an age yet to come, of the seed which Coleridge and his co-thinkers sowed in their own, ripening into all the fulness of spiritual truth under that higher teaching whence philosopher as well as Christian derives his truest light. In the meantime it must be the comfort of the solitary unaided student, to believe and trust that the same unity of plan, which was ever present to the mind of the author, will be by degrees transferred to, and impressed upon that of his thoughtful, docile, and loving reader, and that however such reader may fail to be able to put it forth in words for the benefit of others, it will not be wanting in his own inmost thoughts, for his own spiritual good; there working out within him, what his author ever and chiefly aimed at, namely, that the heart and the reason, the one awakened, and the other enlightened, should become a united temple of praise and love, to the honor of God, and the glory of the Redeemer, and meet for the gracious indwelling of the Spirit of all truth: preparing it for such a philosophy as "flashed conviction on the mind of a Galen and kindled meditation into a hymn of praise."

"Aids to Reflection," and True Method of Studying It.--In taking up the following work, the reader who would not be disappointed, must understand previously what he has to expect. It is not then, a work of amusement, to be read lightly, nor of connected science to be studied continuously, but one to be read, studied and above all meditated upon in its separate truths, just as they are found to strike in upon the mind. Each "aphorism" is as a torch by itself, having its own circle of light, and is therefore to be separately dwelt upon by the student, and tested by his own repeated inward experience, until he see the light and feel its truth, and not only so but can lay hold upon it as a reality, and upon conviction is ready to give it a place in his previously established trains of reasoning and to incorporate it into his actual stock of settled principles in thought and action. In this way, and in this way alone, will the work become to the reader what in its title it promises, "aids to reflection." Nor must the student expect too much on the first perusal of a single aphorism or even of the whole work; a reflecting mind, says our author, is not a "flower that grows wild or comes up of its own accord." But if sincere let him go on--try one aphorism--try another--open the volume at hazard--persevere, until at length he find some deep spiritual truth to strike home--then indeed may he pause, for then begins the reign of Coleridge over the thoughtful mind. The reader then for the first time recognizes him as his " Master," for he finds that under his teaching, he can now speak what before he had only thought; that he has got embodied some new truth, a new steppingstone for his foot to rest upon amid the dark waters. The author who is found to exercise such power over the mind, will soon come, notwithstanding all difficulties of interpretation, to be rightly valued by the student; and if such teaching bear on truths nearest the heart, giving to the mind a new and firmer hold on those already received or new and clearer light to guide it in its further search, such a writer xviii will be at once recognized, not only as a teacher, but as a friend, and there will be quickly established, between the reader and such mind a sense of spiritual relationship, alike loving and reverential, and such as will not afterwards be lightly severed.

That such is, in truth, the influence of Coleridge's mind, over that of his reader, and more especially in this present work, is of course a matter of individual experience, but from the numbers on both sides of the Atlantic, who have openly acknowledged such obligation and the greater number who from its rapid sale it may be judged, are silently benefitting by it, the editor feels justified in asserting such to be its essential character and influence, and consequently, in recommending its adoption to all who prize for themselves the possession of such a spiritual monitor and guide.

But after all, the work, with ordinary readers will still have its obscurities and its incomprehensible passages; as for instance, the geometrical bi-polar theory of thought, contained in note, p. 130--the algebraic formula, p. 250--the logical synopsis, p. 258, as well as some other occasional touches of transcendental metaphysics. To all this, the only answer is, "pass them over"--"go on"--let not the truth you do feel, be lost upon either your heart or intellect through prejudice of that which you do not feel--take the lesson you do understand, and give your author credit for a meaning even when you perceive it not, and in time you may come to see a deep truth where you now see nothing but mystic words.

General Argument of "Aids to Reflection."--The general scheme of the work, though not always or easily traceable in it, partly from the moral nature of the argument addressing itself rather to the heart than to the logical faculty, and partly from the unconnected " aphorisms" by which it is carried on, is shortly as follows.

Addressing himself to the unspiritual but not un-intellectual mind, Coleridge takes up the religious argument on the supposed xix reader's professed principles of worldly calculation. First, then, comes Religion, contemplated in the form of prudence; Christened but not Christianized. This is in general the thoughtful mind's first step in the course of conviction: the man stands firm in religion as a matter of policy. Then, "awakened by the cock-crow, (a sermon, a calamity, a sick bed or a providential escape) the Christian pilgrim sets out in the morning twilight, while yet the truth is below the horizon," (p. 18). Travelling onward, he is led up to a higher point in his spiritual course--to "the purifying and remedial virtues"--to religion contemplated under the form of Morality--a holier prudence, than what he first professed, then becomes his guide, even "the steward faithful and discreet"--the eldest servant in the family of Faith, and the Ruler over all its household." Last and highest of all, comes Religion, viewed as "spiritual Christianity," morality ascending from uprightness "to God-likeness," and giving to faith its repose by the doctrine of a personal Saviour and communion with his life-giving spirit. This is Religion contemplated in its true form, seeking its summit in the imitation of the Divine nature, in the sincere love of the true as truth, of the good as good, and of God as both in one; and leading the man to "all the acts, exercises, and disciplines of mind, will, and affection that are requisite or conducive to the great design of redemption from the form of the evil one, and of his second creation, or birth in the divine image." (p. 22.)

To the reflecting mind of the supposed pilgrim in these his advancing stages of "Prudence," "Morality," and "Spiritual Religion," are addressed the successive aphorisms with their commentaries, that constitute the body of the work--deduced in each instance from the predominant faculty under which the man is then walking--that is.

In his first stage of Prudence, from the sense and sensuous understanding.

In the second or that of Morally, from the heart and conscience, and,

In the third or Spiritual state, from the reason and the will.

Such is the argument of the work, though much of its completeness must doubtless come from the reader's own power of thought in supplying what is left deficient and connecting what stands disunited. To do this, however, will be found among the most valuable exercises of Reflection, which the work itself can call forth, and is therefore, as such, seriously recommended to the student. But before passing to another head, it is proper here to note, for the caution of its less learned, or more easily guided readers, that in some minor points, in this work, unconnected with the leading argument, Coleridge's judgment is not to be commended. "Among these spots on the sun," to apply the author's own figure, which as obstructing neither its light nor heat, might have been passed over without notice, but for the natural tendency of the human mind to make a God of the luminary that gives it light, may be indicated the following--our author's allegorized view of the historical circumstances of the fall of man, (p. 144). His defective argument and unjustifiable admissions on the subject of Infant Baptism, as given in his conference with a Baptist, (p. 283,) and most striking of all his false and dangerous estimate, of perhaps the moral worth, certainly the spiritual teaching of one whom he addresses as " Friend, pure of heart and fervent," even the Scotch preacher, Edward Irving--"a mighty wrestler" says he "in the cause of spiritual Religion and Gospel morality, in whom more than in any other contemporary I seem to see the spirit of Luther revived,"(p. 297, Note). Nor was this as already noted the limit of Coleridge's delusion touching a friend for whom his fond affection seems to have strangely blinded his judgment. Such lapses of wisdom on the part of those whom God seems to have set forth as peculiarly lights and guides upon earth, it is painful to have witnessed and still more painful to be called upon to record--but, the xxi less willingly, the more scrupulously should it be done, and it is even perhaps so permitted, lest Christians should perchance be tempted in their reverential love to transfer unto fallible man that submission of mind due only to God, his Church, and his word.

General Nature and Originality of Coleridge's Philosophy.--The Philosophy of Coleridge, if at least by such name his teaching is to be called, has been too much looked at both in England and this country in the light of novelty. It has been both cried up and cried down on this argument, and the most popular of the objections against it and conclusive ones had it been true, have been drawn from this its supposed character. But such is neither its merit nor its demerit. It is an old and not a novel school of Philosophy. It was that of Plato, and many other ancient Sages so far forth at least as the speculations of teachers, unenlightened by Revelation, can be said to symbolize with those of a Christian. "Nor were our great divines," says Coleridge, "ashamed of this learned discipline, to which they had submitted their minds under Aristotle and Tully, but brought the purified products as sacrificial gifts to Christ. They baptized the logic and manly rhetoric of ancient Greece." (Notes on Donne.)

Among Christian teachers too, in every age of Christendom, it has been, that of the deepest and the worthiest--the great fathers of the Church--the soundest Doctors in the schools of Rome--the early Reformers both in England and on the continent, and above all, the greatest Divines in the Church of England in the days of her glory--in the golden age of her Hookers and Barrows and Cudworths and Taylors, these all agree in it; nor is even this its highest authority. It is the philosophy, so far as such name is applicable to revealed teaching of scripture itself. St. Paul and St. John, with reverence be it said, are the pillars of this school--the spiritual truths they teach, when translated into man's xxii language constitute that Christian philosophy now to some so strange, but which in earlier ages of the Church, was not only the current faith, but of the very heart and soul of Christendom.

With the abuse of the Protestant principle, the right of private judgment in the interpretation of scripture, and more especially with its greatest exemplification, the defection of the Puritans in England from the unity of the Church in the 17th century, when the name of Calvin was brought in to sanction novelties which Calvin himself had not taught, came the first and fatal step in that disunion of reason from revelation and of philosophy from Christian doctrine, which the principles of Coleridge now go to reconcile. The fundamental error then fallen into by sectarian teachers, was the substitution of the "understanding" for the "reason," or in other words of "each man's notions" for "all men's wisdom." Hence came necessarily contempt for Christian antiquity--contempt for the voice of the Church and her institutions, contempt, in short for all Christian authority, except that written word which with singular inconsistency, such reasoners received as the word of God solely upon the teaching of that Church which they abandoned and its authority which they rejected. Hence followed of course, in that spirit of reckless independence which taught schism to be no sin, what the elder philosophy could not have received, Christianity without its teacher--the truth without its "pillar and ground," a church without unity--a ministry without origin--sacraments without binding power--and to close all, metaphysics or the speculations of the "understanding" elevated into that high place in the interpretation of Christian doctrine from which Christian philosophy, the reason of the Church, ("quod semper, quod ubique, quod ab omnibus"), had just been dethroned. Under this newly discovered guide, came forth a new creed, and one not merely without harmony, but, in irreconcilable contrariety to the first teachings of reason and to the fundamental laws of conscience--Christianity and Redemption xxiii were no longer to be held as they had been, convertible terms, but the doctrines of a partial redemption and unconditional salvation and a will without freedom and grace irresistible, the metaphysical conclusions in short of the puzzled understanding, were made to proclaim a never-ending war between reason and revelation, a war which the philosophy of Coleridge, and of such reasoners as he--the better wisdom of an elder age, can alone reduce into permanent and harmonious peace.

From this deep fountain of error, came many streams--First, was fed from it the dark pool of fatalism; the whole host of necessitarian arguers, whether infidel or sectarian having ever since drawn their sharpest arrows from this quiver--proceeding to demonstrate by the "understanding," in the face of reason and of conscience, the impossibility of that freedom which in the very moment of demonstration, the man was himself exerting. With such reasoners came too, the perversion of "original sin" into "hereditary guilt," thus "throwing the darkness of storms," says Coleridge, "on an awful fact in human nature, which in itself had only the darkness of negations." (Notes on Jeremy Taylor).

Hence too, in a shallower stream, flowed the metaphysics of Locke--shallow through the substitution of the "understanding," for the "reason," being but a vain attempt to build up the temple of spiritual truth, apart from the light of reason, on the sandy foundations of experience. As its tendency was to unspiritualize the mind, so has its result been perhaps to give birth to, certainly to nourish the infidel age that followed, and to clothe materialism with the outward trappings of philosophy.

Hence too at a later day, came that second flood of Epicurean teaching, which under the authority of Paley, has degraded the very name of Ethical science--a system of morals forsooth, built up without even a mention of reason or conscience. In parallel stream and from the same source has flowed also the Socinian error--revelation without mysteries--an xxiv error that could find no foothold in Christendom, till, a false philosophy had confounded the "reason" with the "sensuous understanding." The spiritual reason in man stumbles not at revealed mysteries, for it feels itself to be a mystery--but his understanding knows none such, it must be able always to con-ceive, that which it re-ceives--therefore it is, that a system of divinity, which looks to the understanding, rather than the reason will ever be found willing to reject as fable, or to degrade into metaphor, those spiritual truths which it can neither digest nor translate.

Over this darkening flood of error has come lastly in our own day, the benumbing influences of a mechanical age--forgetting and learning from a base philosophy to deny, amid its mighty conquests over material nature those immaterial powers, super-natural--above and beyond nature--by which alone the hand of art has achieved its conquests.

Under such accumulation of rubbish, philosophical and doctrinal, truths ancient and long held and essential to a Faith at once spiritual and rational, became trodden down in the minds of men, and hidden, but not lost. They were still within the heart of man, in his conscience and in his reason, in his prayers, and in his inextinguishable wants. Such living truths were not always to be denied a voice, and in our own day we find, as if by common impulse, that in every nation of Protestant Christendom, they have spoken, and with a reaction as irrepressible as it has been simultaneous, they have come forth "conquering," and we believe "to conquer." This better philosophy has already found an abode in Germany and a resting-place in France, but above all in England it is now rapidly building up its citadel and its home, in the threefold union,--the cord that cannot easily be broken--of learning, orthodoxy, and a spiritual creed. Into the heart of Americans too it has entered widely if not deeply. It has already penetrated the school and the pulpit--it has begun by Christianizing education, it is going on to spiritualize philosophy, and it will find doubtless in time, its xxv completion, in a demonstrated union of reason and revelation, in connection with the teaching of the Apostolic Church of Christ.

Under the view thus given, the claims of Coleridge as the originator of this philosophy, whether urged by friends or charged by enemies, must, it is obvious, be greatly moderated. In such regenerating movement of the race, no individual mind governs, nor, however zealous, can any man be esteemed more than a co-worker. Among such foremost ones, however, Coleridge stands in England, at least, preeminent. In his case, the kindling spark, whencesoever it came, fell on an ardent and mighty mind, one alike fitted for the task, and willing for the encounter to which it called him, and that girded himself to it early and heartfully, and for twenty years, as he himself tells us, bore him, on though without fruit, yet in hope, "casting his bread upon the waters."

But still this pre-eminence excludes not his fellow laborers, among whom another layman, the late Alexander Knox, though within a narrower circle, deserves to be recorded, as well as not a few divines of the Church of England, recent or living, more especially from the. university of Oxford, whence this earlier and sounder philosophy had never been wholly cast out.

Leading Principles in Coleridge's Philosophy.--Distinction between the reason and the understanding.--The fundamental postulate of Coleridge's reasonings, is that the Reason in man, variously defined by him, as the "light of the mind," the "organ of wisdom," "the source of universal and necessary principles," is a power that sees by its own light, and is therefore, essentially distinct from the "understanding," or "the faculty that judges according to sense." "In no former part of the volume" says Coleridge, when he comes to read of this point, "has the author felt the same anxiety to obtain a patient attention; for he does not xxvi hesitate to avow, that on his success in establishing the validity of the distinction between the Reason and the Understanding he rests his hopes of carrying the reader along with him through all that is to follow," (p. 163). "Till this distinction be seen," is elsewhere his language "nothing can be seen aright." "Till this great truth be mastered, and with the sight, that is insight, other truths may casually take possession of the mind, but the mind cannot possess them." (Notes on Donne).

In this sense of its importance his editor, as may be judged from what he has already said, fully concurs. That such distinction will eventually be granted by every reflecting reader, there can be little doubt. His first, and indeed, only difficulty, he will find to lie, not in the distinction of the things themselves, "the light" from the faculty that holds the light, for that we all familiarly make on a thousand occasions, but, simply in the appropriation of terms which by long use and common custom, have become confounded, at least with ordinary thinkers. But this obviously is a minor difficulty, and bears not at all on the real question. On that point, reflecting, religious men cannot long or far differ, now and never have, for it is the question whether the living soul of man be dependant or not for its light of truth on the dying body, since, if not, it follows of course that the mind must have its own primitive stock of a knowledge not of this world, and which gives to it its fundamental laws of being--its informing processes of thought,--the moulds into which it casts the impressions of the outward senses, and the weights by which it tries them. This is the "light of reason" "the image in which man was created"--"that through the being of which he became a living soul."--"this is that house not made with hands," of which Coleridge ever so eloquently speaks, in which the reflecting mind even here on earth can dwell and find it, "not vacant but gloriously furnished."

But in addition to, and in power of this, its primitive possession of ideas of obligation and duty, and truth, and order, xxvii and goodness, the mind gains through experience a new stock, relating to things of time and space, and this is "understanding"--man is reason--he possesses understanding.

Reason therefore, is fixed--Understanding is discursive--Reason appeals but to itself, Understanding finds its authority elsewhere--Reason is imperative--its word is law--Understanding is relative--its language is expediency--the accommodation of means to ends. Reason is the seat of ideas. Understanding of conceptions--Reason gives birth to experience, and experience, in turn, trains up the Understanding--Reason makes man "wise," a moral, a religious being and fitted under grace for the spiritual things of eternity--Understanding on the other hand, makes man "knowing"--the conqueror of this world, not of the next, and fitted but for the occupations and enjoyments of time and space. Love, duty goodness, faith, the spiritual and the willing mind, all belong to the Reason of our nature--art and its triumphs, the world and its glory, time and its employments, belong to the equally needful, but still unquestionably lower and distinct faculty, the "understanding" of our nature.

Now in these views Coleridge undoubtedly runs counter to Locke and his school, but as he agrees with older and far higher authorities--he is not to be charged herein, as is often done, with either heresy or novelty. "It is what" says he, "no man can learn from another, but which (were it possible,) I might have learned from Plato, Kepler, and Bacon; from Luther, Hooker, Pascal, Leibnitz and Fenelon," (p. 175. note).

To this it may be further added, that it is a distinction which has been forgotten by dissenters rather than by churchmen, and that however novel it may now sound to such religious reasoners as have consecrated to themselves the shallow metaphysics of modern times* yet has it never been

*It is the confession of Dr. Marsh, in his Preface, that Brown's philosophy had received the sanction of their "highest ecclesiastical authorities." xxviii a strange language unto those familiar with the elder divines of the Church of England, and who hold not to the speculations of individual minds in opposition to the common teaching of the Church Catholic.

Distinction between Nature and Will.--Between these, Coleridge teaches not so truly distinction as contrariety-—"Nature" is that which is necessitated, bound by the law of antecedent and consequent, a linked chain of causes and effects; "will" on the other hand, as the exponent of Spirit is that which alone, in creation, is not bound, but free--self-moved--not a matter of mechanism, and consequently not a "nature." An enslaved will is, therefore, a will which by its own act, has admitted to a certain extent, a nature within it. Such is the natural man, but though a creaturely will cannot be free, yet the will in a rational creature, may cease to be creaturely, and through grace go forth into the glorious liberty of the Gospel. Now the terms in which this exposition of the necessary freedom of the will, as "will" is made by our author, may sound somewhat novel, but the substance of it is common to all Christian philosophy and doctrine, with the solitary exception of the maintainers of religious fatalism, and the other forms of what is falsely termed "high Calvinism." Against such, and such only, does Coleridge stand in irreconcilable hostility. "The doctrine of modern Calvinism," says he, "as laid down by Jonathan Edwards and the late Dr. Williams, which represents a will absolutely passive, clay in the hands of a potter, destroys all will, takes away its essence and definition . . . with such a system, not the wit of man, nor all the theodicies ever framed by human ingenuity, before and since the celebrated attempt of Leibnitz, can reconcile the sense of responsibility nor the fact of the difference in kind between regret and remorse," (p. 115).

It is for the solution of this insoluble problem, that Dr. Marsh, in his preface so vainly labours. His reason justifies what his creed rejects, and to reconcile Coleridge with Calvinism, is that fruitless task which places him ever in a false position xxix with regard to his own faith, and in a needless one in the light of all others.

Distinction between objective and subjective truths.--These are terms borrowed from the schools, being old and convenient terms for a sound and necessary distinction. "Objective" relates to things as they are in themselves; "Subjective" as they appear to be through the medium of our senses, or the laws of the perceiving mind,--Thus the colours of nature, to take one of the many forms of merely phenomenal existence, have but a subjective not objective reality, and may be said to exist but in reference to the eye that sees them. Truth on the contrary, as all that belongs to spirit, has a reality objective not merely subjective. Its existence does not depend on our perceptions, nor is it at all modified by them. But to apply this--Horne Tooke in analyzing truth into what one "troweth" or thinketh, gave it but a subjective existence, changing with every man's opinion. The teaching of Locke, too, though less unsound, tended obviously to the same fatal result--all truths with him, being "conclusions" of the logical understanding, not objects to the spiritual reason. Even the ideas of God, eternity, duty, &c, are not positive but negative thoughts, arrived at by the process of successive exclusions. The Socinian creed, too, is another form of the same error, denying existence to whatever cannot be contemplated under the intelligible forms of our own subjective understandings.

Now what infidels had thus rejected, and false philosophy anatomized into negatives, and the worldly mind is ever ready to evaporate into metaphor, for these despised truths of our moral and spiritual nature, Coleridge has but reclaimed their earlier and higher rank in philosophy as being actual objects to the eye of the spiritual reason, "living truths" "eternal verities," spiritual things" that are spiritually discerned, and the only realities which abide unchanged in this phenomenal existence. This it is that renders the teaching of Coleridge a truly religious philosophy, not in a mystical xxx but in a Christian sense, for it looks at and addresses man as the scriptures do, directly in his spiritual as well as in his intellectual nature, and brings before him the laws and truths and wants of his spiritual being, as familiarly and objectively as it does those which relate and are present to his senses. Hence follows the important discrimination, and one marked out with peculiar felicity by Coleridge, between the figurative and the symbolic language of scripture--its figures as being addressed to the "understanding," and intended for illustration of the nature, its symbols as addressed to the reason, or spiritual part of man, and intended for conviction of the truth, of that spoken of. "I do not regard" says he, "the words born again and spiritual life as figures or metaphors," these are the truths he adds, which the natural man, (that is the sensuous understanding), cannot receive because they are spiritually discerned." The influence of this ever present distinction over the mind of the habitual student of Coleridge is one more easily felt than explained--he finds it eventually, to give, as it were substance to what before were shadowy thoughts, and to secure for them a corresponding hold on his spirit, whether looked at in meditation or appealed to in action.

Doctrinal views of Coleridge as exhibited in "Aids to Reflection."--That Coleridge in heart as well as profession, after some early wanderings, settled down a faithful member of the church of England, cannot now be for a moment doubted, however it may have once been, by any one familiar with his writings. Her articles and homilies we find to have been the subject of his most frequent and deepest meditations--her spiritual influence over the land, his affectionate boast and earnest prayer, and her coming dubious fortunes the source of his most painful anxieties. "No man can justly blame me" is elsewhere his touching language, though borrowed from another at the dose of one of his own eloquent eulogiums, "for honouring my spiritual mother, the xxxi church of England; in whose womb I was conceived, at whose breast I was nourished, and in whose bosom I hope to die," (Remains).

The doctrines contained in this work, are therefore those not of "evangelical dissenters," but of the Church of England, as exhibited in her articles, liturgy and sacraments, though still under that wise, because necessary, freedom of interpretation which she scripturally permits to all her individual members. But though it is, indeed, part of her glory that she ties up the reason and conscience by no metaphysical subtleties, yet is it also her higher boast that in every age, the majority of her sons, and the ablest of her teachers, have concurred in one common system of church doctrine: now, with them Coleridge substantially and in general, most closely agrees. But as this is a point on which suspicion has been cast by his previous American editor, in applying to him a term popularly used to contra-distinguish those who make light of the necessity of a visible church and its binding sacraments and of the sin of schism in departing from it, it is due to our author to exhibit in his own words this attachment and conformity to the Church of England, in her spiritual, sacramental and catholic character.

Of the Church of Christ, he teaches its visible nature, unity and necessity--"a church visible," says he, is the "exponent" of Christianity. "My fixed principle is, that Christianity without a visible church exercising spiritual authority is vanity and dissolution," (p. 230, note).

Of this one catholic apostolic Church he holds that of England to be the purest branch. "Enough for me" is his language, "if in my heart of hearts, free from all fear of man or lust of preferment, I believe (as I do,) the Church of England to be the most Apostolic Church . . . and that the imperfections in its liturgy are but spots in the sun, which impede neither its light nor its heat," (p. 300, note).

Touching its great principle, regard for early authority, his language is, "the Church of England has preserved the xxxii golden mean between the superstitious reverence of tbe Romapists and the avowed contempt of the Sectarians for the writings of the fathers, and the authority and unimpeached traditions of the Church during the first three or four centuries," (p. 303, note).

Of separation from it, (speaking of a conscientious dissenter), he says, "such person must think of schism under another point of view than that in which I have been taught to contemplate it by St. Paul in his epistles to the Corinthians," (p. 297).

On the right of private judgment, his language is equally orthodox and liberal. "I condemn not the exercise or deny the right of individual judgment. I condemn only the pretended right of every individual competent or incompetent to interpret scripture in a sense of his own, in opposition to the judgment of the church, and where the interpreter judges in ignorance or in contempt of uninterrupted tradition, the unanimous consent of fathers and councils, and the universal faith of the church in all ages," (p. 230, note).

On the still higher question of Redemption in its extent and covenanted means, his language is that of the great Divines of the church of England in the manhood of its divinity. "That redemption is an opus perfectum, a finished work, the claim to which is conferred by baptism; that a Christian cannot speak or think as if his redemption by the blood, and his justification by the righteousness of Christ alone, were future or contingent events, but must both say and think, 'I have been redeemed,' 'I am justified;' lastly that for as many as are received into his church by baptism, Christ has condemned sin in the flesh, has made it dead in law, that is, no longer imputable as guilt, has destroyed the objective reality of sin--these are truths--the most certain and necessary articles of faith, and the effectual preaching of which Luther declares to be the appropriate criterion, stantis vel cadentis Ecclesiae," (p. 242, note).

But as within the unbroken unity of the Church there are xxxiii naturally perhaps necessarily leading differences of doctrinal teaching according as the supremacy of the end, that is the work of the spirit upon the heart, or the equal acknowledged necessity of covenanted means, that is, union with the visible church and its life-giving sacraments, are magnified and pressed home upon the believer, it becomes an interesting question, into which scale the authority of Coleridge and his advancing philosophy, is likely to be cast. The answer is, that it recognizes no division, and admits of no distinction, but as his English editor remarks, kindles for those extremes that lead to it "an unextinguishable beacon of warning or of guidance!" Its great principle is, (teaching as all the formularies of the Church teach), that unto sinful man the appointed means are the end, and that the infidel, that is, the faithless, mind alone, will draw a distinction between them--the end is every thing and the means are everything--Nowhere therefore can be found among teachers, ranking, to use the popular term, as low-churchmen, deeper views than Coleridge gives of revealed truth, or a more experimental insight into the mysteries of personal spiritual religion, whether viewed in its origin, as from the inworkings of God's holy spirit, or in its nature, as bringing back into the enslaved will its lost freedom, or in its fruits, as giving to the life, holiness, to the heart, peace, and to the soul its foretaste of better things. To the Saviour alone he looks and trusts. "When the soul," says he, "is beleagured by enemies, weakness on the walls, treachery at the gates, and corruption in the citadel, then by faith she says 'Lamb of God' slain from the foundation of the world! Thou art my strength, I look to thee for deliverance! and thus she overcomes, steadfast by faith," (p. 240). "The Christian preacher," he elsewhere adds, "ought to preach Christ and Christ alone, and all things in him and by him. He should abjure every argument that is not a link in the chain of which Christ is the staple and the staple ring," (Notes on Donne).

Such is his intent, nay absorbing gaze upon Christ as the xxxiv end of the Christian life, yet viewed safely because not arrogantly but through the means appointed. In the teacher therefore he maintains the necessity of that union of learning with orthodoxy, which leaves no room for discretionary independence, and in the private Christian, that deference to the authority of the Church, which bridles the license of self-will, and in all, that union with it and reliance upon it through its covenanted sacraments, which are the only sure means of grace and spiritual advancement.

If it be further asked, what aspect the teaching of Coleridge bears towards the theology which under the title of the "Oxford Tracts," has recently awakened so much misplaced alarm among well-meaning churchmen both in England and America, the answer is, that it is that of friendly travellers, on roads different indeed, but not diverse, setting out in their journey from distant points, but guided by the same compass and tending to the same haven. These Tracts, to which too much honour we think has been done in regarding them as the "moving power," instead of among the "leading indications" of that change that has already come over the spirit of English churchmen and which slumbers awhile in the heart before it comes forth in words, are as their name imports, "Tracts for the Times," even as the writings of Coleridge might be appropriately termed. Both are warring against the same modern errors, both fighting for the same deep, despised, ancient truths, and both exposing and refuting the same logical fallacies--the one in the Church, the other in philosophy, and thus both labouring in a common cause, to bring back an unreflecting, arrogant, all things-understanding age to the docile, reflecting, mystery-admitting spirit of earlier and better times. It were an interesting task to draw out, as might be done in parallel columns, these striking accordances, in language as well as sentiment, between writers, who seem at first sight to have so little in common as Coleridge and the Oxford divines, and it would afford a new and certainly no feeble argument in favour of those common xxxv principles, in which the thoughtful mind is found to take refuge as in an impregnable fortress, when driven by error or infidelity to seek the grounds of its faith, either in philosophy or religion. But it would swell our Preface too far to carry out this speculation, suffice it to say, both are evidently the product of the same widespread reaction,--both go to change the current of the age, in the same direction, and however the one may occasionally lead the solitary musing mind unto the very borders of mysticism, or the other delude some reverential spirit into an overestimate of exploded forms or monkish asceticism, still may we believe in them both as mighty elements of good, and chosen instruments of power, working out under the overruling providence of God deeper and more abiding changes upon earth than either friends or enemies seem to look at.

Summary of the beneficial tendencies of "Aids to Reflection" on the mind of the student.

In Habits of Thought.--It tends to awaken in the student the power of, and taste for, self-conscious reflection--and this it does not by verbal directions, which are a vain thing to arouse thought, but by the author going before his reader in the path of self-knowledge, showing him the way, giving him the result, and thus enabling him to retrace for himself, the steps by which it has been reached. Thus does the student by degrees become familiar with his own mind and with all the objects and processes of thinking.

In habits of Language.--It tends to give him an equivalent precision. From Coleridge's command over his reader's mind, the student first comes to know the power of words, and with his author to esteem them not dead, but "living" things, even the embodied and articulated spirit of our race. Thence he proceeds from Coleridge's example, to learn the secret of that power, viz, to use them as "seeds of thought," and always therefore, to have in his own mind "realities" corresponding to the terms he uses.

In Mental Philosophy, or what the mind can know of its own structure.--It tends to make the student not theoretically but practically wise, enabling him, not so much to talk learnedly, as to think rightly. It teaches therefore, no formal system of metaphysics, for all such are necessarily but delusive pictures of an incomprehensible nature, but it furnishes for his adoption a few clear fundamental principles which upon trial he will find in striking agreement with the teaching of scripture, with his own inward experience, and with the highest and best philosophy of every age. Now these simple, but deep truths, as being common to the nature of man, become to him who is familiar with their application, master-keys by which to unlock the thoughts and read the minds of others as well as his own.

In Ethical Philosophy, or the Science of Duty.--It tends to give to the mind of the student both clearness and conclusiveness. It gives clearness by its peculiarly accurate discrimination between near-lying principles of action, as for instance, in giving the boundary lines that distinguish though without separating prudence from morality, and morality from religion. And still more does it tend to give conclusiveness by resting all his moral convictions on the primary truths of his inward nature, on the first dictates of conscience, the clear light of reason and the essential responsibilities of a self-conscious will, and thus freeing his moral reasonings from all those metaphysical entangling subtleties by which the understanding is both able and apt to perplex the simplest and clearest conclusions of duty.

In Christian Philosophy, or Revelation viewed in the light of a Rational nature.--Here it tends to give to the student's faith a demonstrative character, by identifying the truths of revelation, not indeed with prior discoveries of reason, but still with its highest subsequently enlightened conclusions, and with all the fundamental laws of our common humanity. "In no case" is its settled principle "can true reason and a right faith stand opposed to each other." "I am one," says xxxvii Coleridge, "who do not dare to decry the religious instincts of humanity as a baseless dream."

In Spiritual Religion, or Revelation viewed as the Gospel, i. e., "good tidings to the sinner."--It tends to fix the student's thoughts, not upon himself but upon "Christ and him crucified." It teaches him to look upon Redemption as an accomplished work, purchased for all men and made available to all and each who truly seek it, through the operation of God's spirit, working, where they are given, through the covenanted means of grace, a visible church of divine origin, spiritual binding sacraments, prayer having power, and a gradual growth in grace through quiet and loving obedience.

In the mysteries of Faith.--It tends to give repose to the Christian student's belief, not however, by explaining mysteries to his understanding, but by justifying them to his reason. As being spiritual truths, it teaches with St. Paul, that they are to be spiritually discerned, cognizable therefore, not by the faculty that judges according to sense but solely by the inner man, the inward spiritual light of the mind. It teaches further, that they become stumbling blocks to our faith, only when detached from the living truths of scripture, and looked into by us curiously and unwisely, relatively to God's nature, for which end, they were not given, rather than to man and his duties, for whose guidance they were alone intended.

In the perusal of Scripture.--It tends to unite in the mind of the student, the deepest gratitude with the highest reverence, inspiring him, to use Coleridge's own language, with "an implicit and anticipating faith," making "the wisdom of love to precede the love of wisdom," "learning as children learn, believing, in order to acquire a reason for their belief." The result of such teaching is to make the mind hold fast to scripture in its plain and simple words, and not to be hasty to explain into metaphor, whatsoever in it passes, as all spiritual truth does pass "man's understanding."

In the Temper of our Faith.--It tends to inspire a cheerful xxxviii Christian confidence, full of hope, full of trust, flowing, not from ourselves, but from Him who hath loved us, and given us the earnest of his spirit. "We are not always to be looking to or brooding over ourselves either for accusation or for confidence, but in the place of "this servile thrall-like fear," says Coleridge, borrowing the words of Milton, "we are to substitute that adoptive and cheerful boldness which our new alliance with God requires of us as Christians."

In the Christian's religious estimate of others.--It tends to unite in his mind, charity with orthodoxy. "Resist every false doctrine," is its principle, "and call no man heretic." "The false doctrine," says Coleridge, "does not make the man a heretic, but an evil heart can make any doctrine heretical." "Scripture is given to teach us our duty, not to enable us to sit in judgment on the souls of our fellow creatures."

And lastly, What man owes to the light of the Gospel.--Coleridge shall say in his own powerful words, "Not therefore, that there is a life to come, and a future state; but what each individual soul may hope for itself therein; and on what grounds: and that this state has been rendered an object of aspiration and fervent desire, and a source of thanksgiving and exceeding great joy; and by whom, and through whom, and for whom, and by what means, and under what conditions--these are the peculiar and distinguishing fundamentals of the Christian Faith; These are the revealed lights and obtained privileges of the Christian Dispensation. Not alone the knowledge of the boon, but the precious inestimable boon itself, is the grace and truth that came by Jesus Christ. I believe Moses, I believe Paul; but I believe in Christ."

Such in fine is the character of the work now affectionately recommended by its present editor to the Christian confidence of all who seek to build up their faith "in the clear light of their own self-consciousness." It is sent forth xxxix for the benefit of such trustfully, as by one who has himself tried it; it is sent forth in humility as by one who feels that his task of commentator has been above him, and yet is it sent forth without fear, as being with a Christian's prayer and in a Christian's confidence, that what has been rightly intended, will be made available under the light of a better wisdom and the guidance of a Higher Teacher to the spiritual good of those who seek that good in the only temper in which it is ever to be found, the temper of faith, of love, and of humility.

Columbia College,

New-York, Nov., 1, 1839.