character," yet" with regard to the supposed particulars of this religion the case is different," and that "certainty may be entirely out of the question." Here I am led to observe, that he who certainly knows that what nature teaches must be true, but does not certainly know what is is that nature does teach, knows no more than what is known to every other man. Every man is aware that "the heavens which declare the glory of God cannot be imagined to bear false testimony." But as Mr. Sturch observes, "the question arises, what is the testimony that they give, and to what extent does it go?" And to this question different answers will be returned which may perplex the inquirer quite as much as "interpolated texts and various readings." But, it seems, while certainty may be out of the question with respect to the truths of Natural Religion, it must always be out of the question with regard to the truths of revelation. But why so? If Christianity is allowed to be true, then, as it confirms the Religion of Nature, and is fundamentally the same with this religion," it must partake of the same certainty, which is indeed no certainty at all, if Natural Religion is only certain as to its authority, and this certainty cannot be transferred to the principles which it inculcates, But Christianity, moreover, has its separate and independent evidence. And the value of this evidence appears from the fact, that it is this by which Christianity has thrown that "splendid and glorious light over the prospect of futurity," for which Mr. Sturch very properly says that he can never be sufficiently thankful. But supernatural religion is " always in some degree dependent upon things which are in their own nature fallacious." Here Mr. Sturch probably alludes, in part, to historical testimony, of which his views are somewhat singular, and which he is disposed to distrust in exact proportion to the importance of the conclusions which are to be drawn from it. And hence, perhaps, he not only allows with me that multitudes are incapable of deciding on the external evidence of Christianity, but maintains, that not one man upon the face of the earth is competent to the decision-a decision which, it seems, involves the necessity of determining on the truth of every miracle related in the New Testament. However, that these miracles collectively and singly are worthy of belief, I am happy to pronounce, upon the authority of Mr. Sturch himself, who in Apeleutherus expresses himself in words to this effect-that the doctrine of Jesus and his apostles is so far beyond their natural means of knowledge as to constitute a miracle, and a miracle which renders all the rest credible. If this be so, I need give myself little uneasiness about those passages of Scripture which "defy all human power of interpretation." But though the external evidence of Christianity is so difficult to decide upon, yet men in general, being properly educated," are capable of judging how far its truths are worthy to be received, by their conformity to the principles of Natural Religion. This is so far well. But what are they to do who have not been "properly educated," or who have not been educated at all? I am afraid that they must be contented to believe upon authority, that is, to take upon trust the opinions which prevail in the communities to which they belong. However, I have the satisfaction to feel assured, that their incapacity of judging for themselves does not confer upon any man, or body of men, a right to judge for them; so that the interests of Protestantism are still secure. than that of revelation, but the information which it gives is not so clear, full, rational and consistent. It is certainly true in the abstract, but falls short of certainty in its supposed particulars, which is something like being certain and uncertain at the same time. It is the main support of Christianity, and in return (which indeed is equitable enough,) it receives from Christianity a splendid and glorious light which it does not itself possess, and consequently cannot diffuse. All that here appears clear and intelligible is, that of the two religions, if I may still be allowed to call them two, Christianity is, as I always suspected, by far the more valuable and important. But I am impatient to take my leave of the controversy, which I do without any diminution of the respect which I have been long accustomed to feel for the character and talents of my opponent. And if he shall appear here and there to have reasoned inconsistently, of which I do not make myself the judge, the reader will, I doubt not, attribute it with me to the difficulty of maintaining the divine origin of Christianity together with the superior authority of Natural Religion. I E. COGAN. Defence of Metaphysical Studies. HAVE for some time past been much interested in the study of Metaphysics, as far, at least, as Hartley's inquiries have led ine. Of other systems I do not wish to speak, as my knowledge of them is not sufficient to enable me to speak with authority concerning them. I am aware of having derived some improvement and much pleasure from the study, as far as I have pursued it, and was proceeding in it with ardour and fearlessness, when I was warned that, in, the opinion of many wise and good persons, it was dangerous to pay too much regard to Hartley's Theory, partly because there is no safety in mixing metaphysical arguments with religion," and partly because "the Hartleians are apt to disregard the plain, simple evidences of revelation, and to puzzle out a system to which scripture must be afterwards reconciled." I have given much attention to these representations, and the more my thoughts dwell on them, the more an I convinced that they are mistaken; that the tendency of Hartley's system is to confirm the Christian's faith, by affording additional evidence of the truth of the gospel, by exhibiting clearer views of the Divine character and government than could be obtained, except by the "mixture of metaphysical arguments with religion," and by confirming what the Scriptures declare concerning the nature of man, the purposes to be an-swered by his present state of discipline and his final destination. As others may be deterred from pursuing this noble study, by similar representations, I think it may be useful to put down a few of the ideas which have occurred to me on the subject, for their consideration. It is my intention to be very brief, and I wish to offer my remarks with the diffidence of a learner, and not with the authority of a philosopher. With respect to the objection that it is dangerous to mingle metaphysical argument with religion, it seems difficult to give a reason why a science which had its origin in scripture, should be separated from it. Who can suppose that without the Christian revelation, Hartley's system would ever have been framed? Surely the wish to discover what the constitution of the human mind must be, to which such a code of morality as that of the gospel is suited, must have animated the inquiries of the Philosopher. He saw that what was already discovered of our mental structure was, in some respects, inconsistent with itself, with his own experience, and with that revelation which was his guiding star in the midst of his labours. He felt that if he could discover a more peculiar relation than was yet suspected to exist between the constitution of the human mind and the system of moral discipline which he believed to be derived from heaven, his faith would be confirmed, his views of scripture truth more clear, and, consequently, his piety more influential. This peculiar relation he has discovered: it was evident to him, and is now to his followers, that scripture language and doctrines can be consistently and satisfactorily explained upon no principles but those which are derived from his Theory. And here is found so strong an evidence for the truth of revelation, as ought to dispel the doubts of every thinking mind; if in such a mind doubts can remain. What can be more incredible, than that, in an age when the science of the human mind was unknown, a system of religion should be framed by ignorant men, which should be found to consist exactly with the discoveries of future ages respecting the mental structure of man? How could such a character as that of Jesus be portrayed, so perfectly agreeable as it is to principles, the existence of which was unsuspected for hundreds of years afterwards, by men who, from their education and occupation, were cut off from the means of learning the little that was taught on these subjects by the sages of their time? They copied from the life ignorant of the rules of drawing, they produced a portrait, perfect in symmetry, unequalled in beauty! If any see not the hand of God in this, let him doubt the existence of God, let him doubt his own existence. If the study in question bring such an accession of evidence of the truth of my religion, I cannot but think those mistaken who object to the "mixture of metaphysical arguments with religion." The gospel systein of morals, also, appears to have a close connexion with Hartley's Theory. On no other system is the necessity of forming virtuous habits so apparent: no other theory makes us so aware of the importance of avoiding temptation, of exercising strict government over the thoughts, of forgetting the things which are behind, and pressing forward to wards those which are before: and more especially we are shewn by it the importance of cultivating Christian benevolence, as the chief ineans of happiness here and hereafter. What can be more consistent with the Christian code of morals, than the conclusion of Hartley, that our ultimate happiness will be found in self-annihilation, that this is to be attained by the diligent cultivation of the benevolent affections, and, in short, by implicit obedience to what is known to be the will of God? Is there any thing in this like disregarding the simplicity of scripture, and perverting it so as to make it suit with a theory invented by human reason? Doubt less the gospel is all-sufficient for the salvation of all men; but why should those who have the means of cultivating their reason by the study of their own minds, cast away an evidence for its truth, for no cause but that it is not known to many, and is not, therefore, called a "simple evidence"? I believe that the ultimate truths of revelation were revealed by God; that science has since developed a train of reasoning which, by leading to the same conclusions, at once corroborates their correctness, strengthens our faith, and demonstrates its own truth. Hence there can be no ground for the fear that this theory should lead us away from scripture; it is derived from scripture; it pursues the same path; it tends to the same conclusions; therefore it appears to me the most valuable study next to that of the Scriptures; the next best gift which has been presented to the hu man mind, and the highest subject but one which can exercise its powers. It seems by a remarkable provision to have been ordained, that there should never be the shadow of a fail. ure of evidence with respect to the truth of revelation. While it was yet recent, every fact of history confirmed it; and while it was fresh, no one in his senses, who examined the subject, could doubt that the things related in the Scriptures actually took place. The lapse of time must, however, necessarily weaken that kind of evidence by which the early Christians were assured that Jesus of Nazareth had lived and taught, and done all that is related in the Gospels concerning him. Since that time prophecies have been remarkably fulfilled, and very many yet remain, which, by their gradual development, will prove that the Christian religion is not a work of human reason. It seems to me that the discovery of this metaphysical system is intended as another confirmation of Christian faith. I, with many others, feel it to be so, and I believe the time will come, when these principles will be understood and acknowledged to be true, by the whole body of Christians; and long before that time will the fear be banished that the study of them should lead away from scripture, or even modify its truth. Long before that time will those systems be exploded which lead to scepticism, and Hartley's Theory, which now comes under the censure bestowed by some wise and good persons on those questions which "found our faith on the doubtful turn of a few metaphysical subtleties," will be acknowledged to have little connexion with them; and none which we may not, by common care, render harmless. I have seen the beneficial effects of the study of Hartley's system, in guiding the reason, strengthening the faith, and cherishing the piety of the wisest and best men whom I have the privilege of knowing I begin to understand how these effects are produced: I desire them to be produced in myself and others: therefore I intend to pursue the study, and therefore I venture to offer these brief remarks. I believe that the doctrine of Philosophical Necessity is, after all, the part of Hartley's system which is most obnoxious to those who have not studied his works with attention. Any theory which leads to the belief of this doctrine, is thought to have a mischievous tendency. I was once as much afraid of it as any one can be but on examination I found that I could not resist the evidence in favour of it: and when I further discovered its real tendency, I rejoiced, and still rejoice, in the clearing up of many doubts, and the removal of many difficulties, which had before perplexed and distressed me. It is necessary for us to believe in the prescience of God; and while I thought myself equally obliged to believe in the free-will of man, I felt that I could not reconcile two points of belief, both important as they affected my practice. It is not in this case as it is in the question of the Origin of Evil; there I can make up my mind to remain in ignorance, because the subject appears to be beyond human comprehension. There is such abundant reason to believe both in the omnipotence and infinite benevolence of God, that the difficulty attending this point cannot for a moment shake my faith: I feel how un reasonable it is to expect to be fully informed respecting the mode in which the Divine government is conducted, and am not troubled by any painful doubt on the subject. But with re. spect to the Divine prescience it is different. It seems a subject on which we ought to be informed, if we are to form our practice by any invariable rule: by a belief in the doctrine of Philosophical Necessity we are informed, and other points of belief are strengthened by it. When Hartley began his inquiries, he had no suspicion that they would lead him, step by step, till he found himself embracing this doctrine, of which he had before a great dread, and to which it was long before he could reconcile his mind. What were the consequences of his belief in himself? Was he not meek, humble and devout? Was he not truly a Christian philosopher? He was; and so may all be who, like him, derive their philosophy from the Bible, who believe nothing but what the Bible sanctions, and rest in no conclusions which do not coincide. with those of the gospel. Let us see what will be the belief of one brought up in these principles of Christian philosophy. He will believe, as the Scriptures teach, in one Supreme God, of infinite power, wisdom and goodness, who is the Creator of all things, and who has therefore an absolute property in them, and the absolute disposal of them. That as he is the author of all things, he must be the author of evil: for what purpose we know not, and cannot know, but doubtless for a wise and benevo lent purpose, as he cannot act incon sistently with his nature. That as he must always act in the wisest and best manner, he must be immutable, and therefore the object of the most unshaken reliance, at all times, and under all circumstances. By the Christian revelation the philosopher is taught that God has destined his rational creatures to a nobler existence than the present: by this revelation he gains clear ideas of the perfections and providence of God; he sees that every event is directed by him, that not a single circumstance takes place with out, not a single idea arises within bis mind, which has not God for its au thor. Believing this, he feels himself prompted to the exercise of the purest and most unremitting devotion; he feels the force of the exhortation, "Pray without ceasing." He feels that God is as intimately concerned as his own soul, in every thought, word and action. He knows that his whole life ought to be devoted to its Author, and he is taught how to do this by the example of him by whom the Christian religion was revealed. He finds in Jesus every perfection belonging to the character of the faithful servant of God, and he acknowledges that these perfections entitle Jesus to be his Lord and Master, his exemplar and his guide. He learns from the Scriptures that the way to become happy here and hereafter, is by the practice of uniform piety and disinterested benevolence. The dictates of his philosophy teach the same thing. They teach that tranquillity and peace reign in the mind in proportion as the idea of self is excluded. They teach that happiness consists in a pursuit which vigorously employs all the faculties of the soul, and which, at the same time, does not excite too vehement a desire. Is there any earthly pursuit which answers these purposes? There is not. The noble pursuit to which the gospel incites, is the only one which can ultimately render happy. This is the one, therefore, after which the Christian philosopher must strive. Disinterested benevolence, animated by piety, is the excellence which he most wishes to attain, and, therefore, he devotes his powers to the service of his fellow-beings. If he is called upon to educate souls for the immortal existence to which he looks forward as the inheritance of all mankind, his religion and his philosophy still teach the same thing: to guard his charge from temptation till their moral habits are fixed; to train them early according to those principles which he wishes to be their guides through life; for he knows how much depends on early association, how much the mind may be elevated during the first periods of life, by associating the idea of God and Christian obedience with every thought which is caused by external objects; or, on the other hand, how difficult, nay, almost impossible it must be, to render the soul thoroughly subservient to Christian motives, after associations have become firmly united, of which the idea of God forms no part. He is taught by his belief in Necessity to feel the importance of moral habits, the never-failing consequences of moral discipline. This, he knows, is the only safeguard in time of temptation, therefore he exercises himself and those under his charge continually in it. If he has once yielded to temptation, his principles tell him that the same motives will produce the same volition and the same consequent action which were produced before, and he therefore flies from the danger, instead of presumptuously believing that he can overcome temptation which has already overcome him. He feels the force of the petition, "Lead us not into temptation," and it is his continual prayer. But while he entertains this detestation of sin, and this dread of temptation, he feels the strongest compassion for those who are suffering under them. While he is careful to avoid danger himself, he gives all the faculties of his soul to the steadfast endea vour to enlighten the mind darkened by vice. Instead of indulging contempt and indignation towards the sinner, it is the sin only which he detests. Instead of shutting out a frail fellow-being from every hope of being received again in virtuous society, by exposing his vices, by fomenting angry feelings in himself and others, he exhorts the unhappy one to listen once more to the voice of the good Shepherd: he tells him that the door of the fold is yet unclosed; he speaks to him the consoling words of him who declared that there is more cause of rejoicing over one returning wanderer than over the ninetyand nine which have never strayed. And if his gentle voice and helping hand are enabled to reclaim the sinner, he watches over him continually, and, imitating the example of the holiest of mankind, he remembereth his guilt no more. He is convinced by his philosophy of the extreme difficulty of the cure of moral disease, and is, therefore, confirmed in his gospel belief of the dreadful nature and immense duration of future punishment. He sees no reason, on a careful perusal of the Scriptures, to believe that this punishment will be never-ending; and his philosophy confirms his opinion. He is convinced that a Being of infinite benevolence could not create with the intention of making existence infinitely miserable. Reason and religion teach him that future punishment is designed to be corrective, therefore cannot be everlasting that if it were everlasting, it would be vengeance, not |