cites the most painful emotions, when appearing in one who comes to persuade us to give up the Bible for the shadowy dreamings of the intuitional consciousness. We cannot but think that if he knew more of the Bible, and studied it more, he would think better of it.

The chapter on Fellowship has much in it which we would like to discuss, did our limits permit. Take, for example, the following, page 232: "The essential idea of Christian fellowship is concentrated in the hallowed unanimity of religious feeling, created by the common experience of that new and Divine life which was first awakened in man by Christ and his apostles. Wherever this Divine consciousness is so developed in the heart as to predominate over the modes of thinking and feeling common to the unchristianized world and the unsanctified mind, there is a member of Christ's spiritual kingdom." A man then becomes a Christian by a predominance of the Divine consciousness over his unsanctified mind. We had thought that he became a Christian by believing on the Lord Jesus Christ; that as soon as he had thus believed he was justified; and that the work of sanctification was a subsequent and distinct matter. Thus at least Paul teaches, but he had not the advantage of studying Schleiermacher, or seeing the light of modern philosophy.

Again he tells us, page 232: "The design of Christian fellowship is threefold, namely, to develope, to preserve, and to propagate the Christian life." Much of this, we had thought, was the work of the Holy Spirit, but in reading this book we have not so much as heard whether there be a Holy Ghost.

He then discusses the outward bond of unity in Christian fellowship, in which he protests against all formulas of faith as a bond of fellowship. There is nothing in this chapter which may not be found as ably put in the attacks of Unitarians on creeds that did not allow them to enjoy the emoluments of orthodoxy, while indulging the luxury of heterodoxy; and in the writings of Alexander Campbell. The result of this sort of religious sentimentalism may be seen in the patched and piebald condition of Unitarianism and Campbellism, in this country, if Mr. Morell has never seen it in England. He differs from them, however, in his doctrine of the organic life of the Church, in which his teachings might be adopted almost verbatim by the stanchest Puseyite. So strangely do opposite errors meet, when they leave the centre of truth.

The chapter on Certitude occupies a very important position in our author's theory, touching as it does the foundation on which all philosophy rests. In his Lectures on the Philosophical Tendencies of the Age, he makes this the principle of classification, by which he arranges all existing systems of philosophy. It is therefore a

central point in his theory, being simply the ground of certainty that man has for his religious belief. It resolves itself very easily and obviously into a discussion of the rule of faith. He admits but three kinds of certitude,-logical, intuitional, and a mixture of the two. All statements resting on testimony can amount only to a higher or lower probability. This position is not a little startling; for, we ask, suppose the testimony be certainly that of God himself,—and surely it cannot be denied that this, at least, is possible,-do the truths thus declared amount only to a probability? This is a point that demanded the most explicit discussion, for it lies at the very foundation of the Christian system; yet Mr. Morell dismisses it with a mere passing remark;-a remark, however, that throws a doubt over the whole subject of apologetic Christianity.

He then discusses the ground of certitude assumed by Rationalism and Traditionalism, to which we have nothing special to object. His remarks here are only a condensation of his lectures on Individualism and Traditionalism, in his work on the Philosophical Tendencies of the Age. But when he takes up the theory that rests it on the letter of the Bible, we have very much to object; much more than we have room to express. His entire argument is an evasion of the real question at issue, coupled with an ingenious play upon the phrase, “letter of the Bible." The question in discussion is, can we rest our belief on the dictum of the Bible, when clearly ascertained, as a sure foundation of faith? This he meets by the old Jesuitical trick of parading the difficulties of determining what is the word of God, and what it means, and that to ascertain its meaning we must appeal to our logical faculties. He therefore sagely concludes that our final appeal is to reason, and that thus this theory coincides with the fundamental principle of Rationalism. This paltry sophism is really unworthy such a mind as our author's. Surely it is one thing to appeal to reason in the interpretation of a document, and quite another to appeal to reason for the truth of the statements thus interpreted. The former is the theory he attempts to combat, the latter the theory of Rationalism. Take for example the case of a will. It may be a very difficult thing to authenticate that will, difficult to interpret it when authenticated, and necessary to argue conflicting interpretations, and appeal to reason in support of the true one; but on what do we rest the rights created under the testament? Not on our interpretation; not on our reason; but on the authority of the instrument itself,--an authority derived from the fact that it utters the will of the testator. A lawyer who would object to the binding character of a will, because, in settling the meaning of it, it was necessary to appeal to reason, would be laughed to

scorn. The process is precisely analogous to that used in the interpretation of the Bible. Yet this form of the question has been as completely evaded by Mr. Morell as it has been by the adroit polemics of the Church of Rome, when discussing the same point in settling the rule of faith.

The substitute he proposes for the word of God, is contained in the following most satisfactory and intelligible words: "The highest appeal for the truth of our theological sentiments must be the catholic expression of the religious consciousness of purified humanity in its eternal progress heavenward." In the name of darkness, what does this mean? We must then believe what the catholic consciousness of purified humanity believes. But what does it believe? And how and where has it uttered this belief? We cannot escape the answer of the honest Milesian in such a case, who, when asked what he believed, replied, "What the Church believed." "But what does the Church believe?" "What I believe." "And what do you both believe?" "We both believe alike." We can really make nothing more satisfactory of this theory of certitude. And we are very certain that if Mr. Morell were to bring his philosophy to this chosen tribunal, the verdict must be one of absolute condemnation, he himself being the witness.

The next chapter is on the significancy of the Past. This he finds in a struggle of reason against authority, first by means of the Aristotelian philosophy, then the Baconian; and now, with a higher philosophy than either, he hopes to see the struggle ended in the triumph of the higher reason. All that we can gather from this is, that the Bible, as an authoritative rule of faith, is to be swept away; that the Baconian philosophy is to be flung to the moles and the bats; and that we are to build the mighty structure of Christianity on the huge cloud-mountain of Teutonic philosophy. And this is the millennium of the Philosophy of Religion! To us the significancy of the Past is widely different. The Church of God is built upon a rock, set forth in the revealed word of the Most High. Against this rock wave after wave have dashed in the past, each covering it with spray, and threatening to ingulf it in ruin; but when the waves had rolled sullenly back, the rock was there still. And now, though there dashes against it a billow with a prouder crest and a wilder foam than any that preceded it, yet when that billow has spent its fury, and returned all shivered and broken to the deep, the rock will still stand, unscathed and unshaken, the beacon of the world.

The concluding chapter, on the relation of philosophy to theology, contains but little that has not been previously discussed, and we hence pass it without any further notice.

When in April, 1848, it was reported that one hundred thousand men were to meet on Kensington Common, and march to the House of Commons, demanding a redress of their grievances, no small alarm was diffused throughout all England. The danger was unseen and undefined, and men were filled with a secret dread. But when the day arrived, and this vast army dwindled into a few dyspeptic looking radicals, who slunk away from their own shadow, the whole affair was extinguished in laughter, as a "muscipular abortion." It was with something of the same dread that we anticipated the onset of this new philosophy. It loomed so gigantically through the mist, and defied the armies of Israel with so Goliathan an air, that we trembled for the ark of God.. But the giant has come forth from the mist, and we find that we have been terrified at a shadow. It is the same old champion, who has been met and conquered a hundred times, and who only appears in new armour and with a new name. We therefore breathe more freely, and may go on with our appropriate work. This satisfaction is the more complete, because of the medium through which the attack is made. Although this work has not impressed us with an exalted estimate of Mr. Morell's logical abilities, yet, together with his preceding books, it shows him to be a fair expounder of the Teutonic philosophy. He has stripped it of its robe, its mask, and its buskins; and enabled us to grapple with it hand to hand: but in disrobing, he has disenchanted it. Unless it is something mightier than this, we have little to fear from it more than from any previous form of error, and philosophy, falsely so called. It will be a nine-days' wonder, and then pass away into oblivion. True, it may do much harm during its time, but will produce no such changes in the opinions of the Christian world as its friends hope or its enemies fear.

We wish to raise no senseless clamour against Mr. Morell or his book, nor excite any odium theologicum. But as he has spoken without scruple of the most sacred and cherished articles of our faith, we have but dealt in equal frankness with him. We believe Mr. Morell to be a sincere and earnest man, one who reverences Christianity, and really desires its advancement, but we also believe that for this very reason his influence may be the more pernicious; for in attempting to make a compromise with the enemies of truth, he has compromised truth itself; and in abandoning what he deemed mere antiquated outposts to the foe, he has surrendered the very citadel.

ART. II.—THE RACES OF MEN AND THEIR RAMIFICATIONS, ACCORDING TO THE LATEST RESULTS OF ETHNOLOGY.

[Translated from the German of Dr. G. L. KRIEGK.]

[THE science of Ethnology is one of such absorbing interest, and is at present attracting so large a share of the attention of cultivated men, in all nations, that we are sure our readers will be gratified with the following exposition of the results of the science, so far as they are yet developed. The Essay gives, in a condensed and popular form, a sketch of the progress of the science, of its scope, and of its present condition,—all worked out from the original sources in a scholarly and comprehensive way. The substance of many and costly volumes is thus brought into the compass of a few pages.]

WE cannot speak of popular stocks, or of the single groups that nations form, according to their affinities, without at the same time thinking of the division of our kind into races of men. The latter are, so to speak, the foundation of the former; and modern Ethnology, (or the science of the Origin of Nations,) as will hereafter appear, took its rise, not from the recognition of popular races,* but from that of human races. Before speaking of the latter, it will be proper, by way of introduction, to present one general consideration, that must be always ruling and decisive in our Ethnological studies.

The distinctions between races regard not only the physical nature, but the intellectual also: nay, the expression of the latter, which is language, is the chief indication by which, of late, the families of men and their branches have been distinguished. The duality of human nature is, in fact, the essential characteristic of our species. It places so vast a gulf between us and the brutes, that, in virtue of it, man is to be looked on rather as standing beyond the animal kingdom than at the head of it. The study of mankind, then, as an aggregate of beings, falling into various groups, is not a department of zoology, but forms a special science, Ethnology. Aristotle has said, that, even when we consider man without regard to his higher destinies, the spiritual power dwelling in him forms his chief distinguishing attribute; for (he goes on to say) while animals live only by virtue of their unconscious impulses, and according to simple laws of nature, man, even for his outward existence, and under all circumstances, makes use of reason. Indeed, we find manifestations of intellectual power among all people, however low their place in the scale of development. We know of no tribe that has not ideas, an articulate speech, clothing, weapons, the art of making fire, and, when there are

* That is, as existing in political relations.