hended, or while we weep in sympathetic gratitude, we shall have but little impression of the dread majesty of this scene, and be inspired with little of that reverence which is due to this awful presence into which we have come.

Turn we then a moment from all these melting sympathies of the sense, that we may catch a glimpse of the spirit in its unveiled dignity, which is presiding here. What calm decision and steadfast purpose do we find! How firm that will, which holds the entire quivering sensibility in subjection! No tumult of passion, no rising of anger, no revengeful retaliation, no stoical indifference. The animal part of the assumed human nature, in all its shrinking delicacy, is made to serve even unto death. That happiness which is the end of the sense, is utterly disregarded, and the end of the spiritual in its holiness is all that is consulted. Hear the instinctive pleadings of the rising sensibility, and then the firm conclusion of the spiritual personality: “Now is my soul (vyum

n uou, my animal, sentient life) troubled, and what shall I say? Father, save me from this hour: but for this cause came I unto this hour. Father, glorify thy name." What an affecting glimpse is here given of the great struggle going on within, and of the high end to which the spiritual eye kept itself steadily directed! The Holy name is to be glorified, and divine authority vindicated, in an adequate expiation of human guilt; and the sensory is to be holden to this service, and its happiness is as rottenness when put in competition with it. The spirit in its dignity upholds its own end, and maintains its firm integrity, and puts the sense to the endurance of the terrible agony, until in death he can say, ished.Oh! how does our pity in the suffering at once become lost, in an absorbing reverence for the authority vindicated, and the holiness maintained, in such a scene as this !

And can the moral power of such a manifestation ever wear out? Is humanity just about to outgrow such adaptations to its wants, and already beginning to feel its need of some new and higher dispensation ? So indeed, in their ignorance and folly, some men say. But what a shallow acquaintance with the deep wants of human nature! What criminal ignorance of the living, lasting power in the Doctrine of Christ crucified! Ah, yes; when this green earth shall have outgrown the adaptations to its wants in the rolling sun above it, perpetually throwing its cheering light and genial warmth upon it, then may humanity assume to have outrun the adaptations of Christianity, and begin to look for another Gospel.

We may then here affirm, that the complete idea by which all human progress must be expounded has been now attained. The sense must become wholly subjected to the spirit. It must be held by the rule of prudence for the end of individual happiness; by the rule of kindness for the end of social happiness; and if the occa

- It is finsion demand, must be wholly crushed and crucified for the end of spiritual holiness. No inherent forces of depraved human nature will effect this work of spiritual regeneration, but the divine interposition of Christianity in its power and grace, makes the ultimate triumphant consummation sure. The full Idea may take on this concise form of expression—the spiritual regnant in the sensual, by the living power of the Gospel.

Materialism assumes that all our conscious sensations are the product of some mechanical impulses from an outer world; and our philosophy can, therefore, take cognisance only of material being, from which all sensation is produced. It can include only the connexions of physical cause and effect, and can admit nothing of the free originations of the spiritual. Its God is only the inner power which works in the on-goings of nature; and can never be thought as at all independent of nature. Its necessary landingplace is in fatalism and material pantheism.

Idealism, on the other hand, assumes that all our conscious conceptions are the product of the inner thought only; and hence its , philosophy can never get out of the understanding. By making its own thoughts objective to itself, the mind creates the outer world for itself, and can possibly determine nothing beyond the dialectical processes of its own thinking. Its only God is the inner law of thought, and this becomes ultimately developed in the universal understanding of the race. Its ultimate termination is in logical necessity and a transcendental pantheism. This last has been carried to its ultimate analysis and highest generalization, in Germany; and many of its partial and detached off-shoots are fast becoming transplanted to our own country, just as its whole deceptive blossoming is made to wither in its own land. It wholly denies all possibility of transcending in our philosophy the mere understanding. Judging by sense, yet it would be kriown as a transcendental philosophy! It utterly discards all use of the faculty of reason, as an organ for determining the supernatural, and yet arrogates to itself the title of Rationalism! There never was a more preposterous assumption; there cannot be a more absurd misnomer.

Both the sense, with its connexions of perceived phenomena in the judgment of the understanding, and the spirit, in the free force and light of its own rationality, must find their proper place in our philosophy, or this perpetual interest of the human race will still be. everlastingly one-sided.

Literature is, again, a deep interest for humanity. Language is an embodying of the inner thought, and in it all human thinking must find its fitting expression. All arising into a new region of thought necessitates the introduction of something new in literature-perhaps a new language itself must be created for it. How vain the attempt to have made the polytheistic literature of either



Greece or Rome, in all its classic copiousness and elegance, an outer body for the high spiritualism of Christian thinking.

But literature is also far from such a consummation as satisfies humanity. Low sensualism has its own, and after its own inner working; and the flood of both foreign and domestic supply has come in, foul and frothy enough to meet the demand, and is already giving indications that the superabundance has induced a surfeiting. Once bring up this grovelling portion of humanity, that it shall emerge from its animalism and rise to the dignity and self-respect of the spiritual, and the flood-gates of such sewers of literary pollution will be shut never more to open.

But, on the other hand, the speech of Heaven and the tongue of angels cannot be a model for human literature, since the sympathies and emotions of sense belong to human nature, and must find their fit expression in language, so long as the spirit shall tabernacle in the flesh. When humanity shall have become perfected through the religion of the Bible, then shall also the literature of the Bible, so wonderfully using the sense in subserviency to the ends of the spirit, become adequately appreciated and supremely relished.

And to all these, we might multiply the particulars of human interests by numberless additions. We might speak of popular education which seems fast sinking to a mere secular, sensual, and partial training, seeking to discipline the human animal only, and quite overlooking the conscience, and neglecting to cultivate the inherent forces and faculties of the spiritual and responsible. An insane dread of the imperatives and retributions of religion is driving many from even the restraints of morality to the licentiousness of sensualism and the anarchy of atheism. We might also introduce the interests of practical philanthropy, which is so ready in its sympathy of the sense, to weep over all the animal sufferings of man, and yet has very little of those yearnings of soul which seek to raise a kindred spirit from its heavier bondage and deeper degradation in the slavery to the flesh; and we might further add the interests of Christian benevolence, which so much the easier, and the more it may be feared, is publishing addresses, and printing resolutions, and giving its alms, and arranging its outer organizations, thereby addressing the sense, than it is found consecrating the inner life and all the force of the spirit, to persevering prayer and perpetual wrestling with God.

But it needs not that we further pursue this application of our Idea. When the law of the spiritual shall spread its full measure over the human family, then will not only the consummation of humanity be attained, but, moreover, then will every human interest have been perfected. By the same law, and to the same extent that progress is made in the one, will there be a substantial improvement and well-balanced reformation in the other. The


human race and all its inseparable interests, will reach their mark, and win the prize of their high calling together.

In conclusion, we would simply add in the form of individual, personal application,-we live in an age proverbial according to its own phraseology, as the age of improvements. The popular mind is rife with a thousand plans for universal reformation, and yet, perhaps from the beginning, there never has been an age when even its very reformations needed so much to be reformed. It is imperative that we go to work in and upon our generation, not at random, nor from conventional rules and popular prescriptions, but from intelligent and comprehensive principles. See what the

age needs by seeing where it is drifting, and taking its present bearings from the grand idea of all possible improvement, the spiritual attaining to dominion over the animal. No movement is anything gained, that is not an advancement in this direction.

But the greatest work is in our own personality. The highest preparation for reforming the age is found in the transformation of ourselves. Personal discipline is the pre requisite for all effective action in improving the world. And all such discipline must be under the imperatives of the spiritual within us. No training of the animal appetites alone will make them always prudent; and no cultivation of the sympathies alone will keep them always kind. Moral imperative, not pathological feeling, must bear controlling sway. The very essence of virtue is a manly struggle against inordinate appetite, and a valorous beating down of the flesh to serve the behests of the spirit. There is not an hour when the spirit may cease watching and ruling. Humanity can be no other than militant while in the flesh, that it may ultimately become triumphant over the flesh. When the rein lies loose upon the neck of any passion, the wild horse may run away with its rider.

And yet, this attainment of dominion and perpetuation of selfcontrol will not spring up spontaneously from any of the forces with

The interpositions in the grace of the Gospel are the necessary conditions for such a work. It is a spiritual regeneration, and a spiritual interposition alone, secures that the new birth be effected, and the divine life consummated. It is as much the dictate of a true pbilosophy as of an orthodox theology, that we act ever from the conviction that “it is the spirit that quickeneth, the flesh profiteth nothing." Christianity alone gives the vital power for our sanctification, and the world's redemption.

“Redemption is the science and the song
Of all Eternity. Archangels, day
And night, into its glories look. The Saints,
The Elders, round the Throne, old in the years
Of Heaven, examine it perpetually;
And, every hour, get clearer, ampler views
Of right and wrong; see virtue's beauty more ;
See vice more utterly depraved and vile:
And this, with a more perfect hatred, hate ;
That daily love, with a more perfect love."

in us.


1. The Anabasis of Xenophon, chiefly according to the text of L. Dindorf, with notes : for

the use of Schools and Colleges. By JOHN J. Owen, Principal of the Cornelius In

stitute. Sixth Edition. Leavitt, T'row & Co. New York: 1847. The Anabasis of Xenophon, with English Notes, critical and explanatory, a Map ar. ranged according to the latest and best Authorities, and a plan of the battle of Cunaza. By Charles ANTHON, LL.D., Jay Professor of the Greek and Latin languages in Columbia College, New York; and Reclor of the Grammar School. Harper &

Brothers, 1847. Of Dr. Anthon's merits as a classical scholar it would be superfluous for us, at this time, to speak. His various works have procured him a distinguished reputation, both at home and abroad. His acquaintance with classical literature and classical antiquities, is proved to be, beyond all question, accurate and extensive. Indeed, when there is taken into consideration his indefatigable industry, his ardent devotion to classical learning, and the many years he has so assiduously occupied in its cultivation, we cannot well see how it could be otherwise. He has well earned the high reputation he at present enjoys, both in this country and in England. It is a reputation of which, as Americans, we should be proud, rather than wish, in any way, unjustly to detract from it.

In reference, however, to the work before us, there is ground of complaint, not so much of anything affecting his standing as a scholar or a writer, as of his treatment of others engaged in like pursuits, and who have succeeded in establishing a reputation as fair and as solid as his own,-if not based on works as voluminous or as nu. merous. Allusion is made to the course he has chosen to take in relation to Mr. Owen, the author of an edition of the Anabasis, which had been in circulation several years, and the title to which we have also prefixed to these remarks. Mr. Owen published the first edition of his Anabasis in 1843. It is well known to have been a work of care and time. The foundation on which he built was his own experimental knowledge of the aid which the student most needed in the study of this work, and of the manner and the places in which it would be required,-a knowledge derived from a long course of practical instruction, accompanied by observations having this very end in view, and therefore, more valuable in forming a useful school book than any quantity of German Commentaries without it. These latter aids, however, he had also extensively employed, and had so combined the information thence derived with his own thorough experience, as to bring out, in the judgment of some of the first scholars among us, one of the most finished classical text-books ever sent from the American press. The author, we are glad to know, notwithstanding the appearance of this competitor, will still have a fair prospect of being rewarded for his faithful labors, in seeing it introduced very extensively into the Academies and Colleges of the land. Indeed, it has been stated with confidence, that wherever it has been examined by teachers, it has, in every instance, been adopted. Mr. Owen, too, seems to have chosen this work as his field of labor, for the purpose, among other reasons, of avoiding collision with any series in which Dr. Anthon had been engaged. He had bestowed more time and labor upon it than can possibly have been given to the rival edition amid the many works in which its author is so constantly, and so rapidly employed,

Now there is, we admit, no law of the land which forbids one literary gentleman from entering upon the same field which has been occupied, and well occupied, by an. other. It may also be said that there is nothing expressly against such a course in any precise rule or prohibition, as formally laid down by any ethical authority. Yet, unless strong reasons can be assigned for the act, it must seem to every high-minded and conscientious man, who can view it dispassionately, and aside from the distorting mists of self-interest, as not being exactly in unison with the spirit of that golden rule, which is the foundation of all right feeling, and, consequently, of all right action. Indeed we know of instances, in this country (and Mr. Owen, if we mistake THIRD SERIES, VOL. III. NO. 4.


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