olic work-righteousness was formed, under which all spiritual ideas were buried. The life of man was so enclosed, and narrowed by a host of rules and precepts, that he could not make a single step without stumbling. A vapid public life devoid alike of ideas and inspiration, a selfish luxurious tendency towards pleasure and gain, tastelessness and indifference towards the fine arts, completed the spiritual degradation and wretchedness, and the misery of a time of universal prostration and commotion sunk everything to a still more abject condition."

"But this onesided direction could not long govern an age like ours. Soon after Kant, other philosophers came, who brought faith and spiritual ideas again into repute, and especially brought to light the ideal significance of Art and Religion. The latter was placed in a more universal and human point of view, and in connexion with the former and with history, more than in its ecclesiastical positive form; even this in itself was decidedly a great gain. This philosophical school certainly ran into the error of abandoning the Kantian Critical Philosophy and bringing it into discredit, instead of prosecuting and perfecting it; so that the advantage at hand was to be considered as lost. Men fell into a mystic, mythological obscurity, which bore itself proudly towards the critical clearness, as if it were scientific depth. It was a new kind of onesidedness that men thus ran into. But the history of human culture always moves in contrasts and extremes, and it remains to be hoped, that the right medium will be gained, and that true unity with Christian revelation be found, which consists in the free consciousness of religious ideas and the living view of Christian history, in which reason and church faith meet one another. Great and wonderful events and commotions have of late turned the world towards devotion and a sense of the purpose of life. Men feel the emptiness of their former life, and the eternal worth and strengthening and elevating power of Christian faith. All long and press after a fresh and higher religious life. But the clearness of consciousness is not in it, and the most opposite views and endeavors are proclaimed. Many would lead us back to the old, others would create an entirely new order of things. There is a want of a consistent, firm, thoroughly formed theology; everything in it lies yet in chaos, it cannot govern itself, not to say anything of its being able to point out to the age the path of religious life, as it should do. The idea and spirit of a true Protestant theology must be determined in our view in the manner which we will now develope."

De Wette's view of a true Protestant theology, and an estimate of his influence upon theology, and the bearing of his doc

trines especially upon the religious parties of our country will be the subject of a future notice. As he says of his country, so it may be said of ours, and of the church throughout the world. The idea and spirit of a true Protestant theology remains to be developed, or at least to be propagated.

We have now sought to give some idea of De Wette's position in the literary and religious world, his life and the order of his works, his services as a critic, his philosophy of religion, and his views of its historical development. Enough has been shown of his life and works to make us love the man and respect his industry, his learning, his fine critical powers, his beautiful poetic, as well as moral sensibility, and above all, the deep religious spirit that pervades his productions, and seems the very life of his life. We shall know him better, and love him more, when we have examined his views of Christian theology, and seen the mode in which he rears the whole and beautiful form of holy truth from the scattered fragments into which dogmatists have broken it.

S. O.

ART. II.—THE PRESENCE OF GOD.

An attempt to prove the existence of God by a process of reasoning, from the very nature of the subject, is always unsatisfactory. It more frequently disturbs than settles the faith; its effect is rather to perplex the mind than to deepen its convictions of the truth. The impression made is of man's weakness, not of God's strength,— of man's blindness, not of God's everlasting presence. It is sending forth the vision into the cloud-wreath, there to behold Him whose image is in our very selves.

We hold the existence of God to be a self-evident truth, lying at the foundation of all reasoning. To examine this, and other propositions of the same nature logically, is to darken counsel by the multiplicity of words. We cannot dissect the proposition, we cannot examine it in detail, or resolve it into more simple, more intelligible principles. As a whole only, as one and indivisible in its freshness and strength, it comes over the mind and makes its own impression there.

What is human reason? It is but the experience of the mind; the looking to the future from the past; the belief that the unknown will be as the known; and conviction rests in our confidence in the permanence of the laws of Nature. And what, we would ask, what confidence can we place in the laws of Nature, without a supreme intelligence? What connexion is there between principle and deduction, antecedent and consequent, on which we can safely rest, if we dethrone that Being who binds together all things into one harmonious system, one glorious whole? Take from the universe its controlling mind, there is no law, no rule, no principle, no truth. All is doubt and confusion; our very perceptions may be illusive, our dearest hopes but chimeras of the brain.

It is only by the assumption of a God, a supreme intelligence who gives to our faculties the right rule of action, that we can attain to any confidence in the result of mental inquiry. We do not form our own minds, nor can we adapt them to the perception of truth. If truth be discoverable, it is because the mind has been so created, so fashioned, that its impressions conform to outer things. On the Father of our spirits, therefore, we rest for truth, on His wisdom do we rely for all we know, and all we believe. For an illustration. The sun is too bright for the naked eye to contend with. The instrument with which we attempt to examine it, as it rides triumphantly through the heavens, may be defective; it may distort its shape, reduce or increase its apparent magnitude, or veil it entirely from the sight; but if skilfully formed and wisely adapted for this use, it brings the luminary within the power of the vision. It is thus when we attempt to discover God. He is sought through the medium of the mind as the instrument. Is this instrument adapted to the discovery of truth? It is so if a wise and powerful being has formed it to this end. On the belief, therefore, that God has adapted the mind for the perception of truth, depends our confidence in its deductions; the very commencement of the reasoning process is the admission of His existence, who so formed us, that we can rely upon that which appeareth as truth, that we grasp as certainty the honest convictions of an unsophisticated mind.

If there be any thing certain, it is certain that there is a God; yet how little do we regard this, the very foundation stone of the temple of truth. Were the mind so closely shut up in its material home, that the light of the outer spirit could break

through only in a solitary gleam, striking would be the pencil of light upon the walls of the prison-house! The prisoner would watch its radiance and exclaim, oh! that I could be set free and bask in the full beams of the glorious source of this light and joy. Now, satiated, and gorged may we say, with the grand, the beautiful, the merciful, we languidly exclaim, "show us something new!" Miracles are asked for, -miracles, which are but the suspension of those laws now operating for our peace and happiness. Change only would move us, change, which would be the withdrawal only of a portion of the good. The writing must be on the wall as a judgment upon us, that we may tremble, for we will not read that truth of God's existence as inscribed above, beyond, around, and within us, in living characters of mercy.

Can we not escape from the power of habit? Can we not break up this lethargy of soul? Shall we dream away our life without distinct impressions, each succeeding day binding us more closely to listlessness of mind? Must we be always inattentive to that which gives existence its value, to that which is to the soul its chief good? Are the seeds of religious faith to remain dormant, until it may please God to water them with the bitter waters of affliction? Must death enter our circle and take the beloved ones, or point with his icy hand to us; must the fruits of the earth be blasted, the storm sweep through the air, earthquakes convulse the land, or we forget the fountain of every blessing?

We need no arguments for the existence of God, no upholding of His character, for His love is the light of our lives; but we need to have our attention called to the light, that we may shake off the dreamy tissue of thought, escape from the spectra of the shut eye, and be fully awake to the bright and beautiful morning of our life. We need more distinct impressions, a more definite faith. We need to bring home the acknowledged truth, that God is not far from each of us, so that it may influence the character. A mere speculative faith, a cold acquiescence, an assuming of the tone of the world on this subject, leaves the life untouched. It is practical infidelity; it is the bowing of the head, and stubbornness of the will;-it is the admission of the lips, and the denial of the heart.

With how many is the doctrine of the Omnipresence of God a mere Sabbath-day dress of the mind, of gauze-like texture, graceful and becoming enough, but altogether unfit for every

day life, as a protection against the chilling influences of this religiously cold world. Omnipresence is a word for a prayer, and sometimes for a wrangle in sectarian controversy, but it seems seldom to convey a definite meaning. We want ideas tangible and distinct on this subject; we want a full and efficient faith, to believe that God is present to us as we are to each other, that He addresses us in an intelligible language, that His power is now as manifest as it was at the creation of the world. We need to feel the full force of the expression, " in Him we live and move and have our being."

I cannot, it is observed, believe that God is present as man is to man, for man can be seen, but the Deity is invisible. Could I but see Him as I see my fellow-beings, all doubt on the subject must pass away. Friend, if by man thou meanest that which thinks, perceives, and wills, as thou thinkest, and perceivest, and willest, then thou seest God as thou seest a man. Further, what gives thee the power of discerning a fellow-spirit? Thy mind is distinct and separate from His. Sense takes no cognizance of aught but matter. There must be some medium of intercourse, some bond of connexion. God is this medium, the ever-present stream, in which the colorless spirits must bathe to become visible to each other. This is not mere transcendentalism, or a metaphysical subtilty. The intercourse between men is upheld by the present power of God. It is His light by which we see, it is His air which vibrates from ear to ear, it is His presence which is our bond of union; for if the human mind could exist without God, it could not reach out beyond itself to its kindred spirits. It could know nothing but its own thoughts. Independent spirits without an Almighty God!-conscious beings, and to each all else annihilated!

When I look around me, I see myself surrounded by those who stand to me in the relation of friends and associates. My eye gives me the form, the feature, the limb, the clothing. But sense can go no farther. It is the body alone which is palpably sensible before me. But is this all which is present? There is knowledge here, there are affections here, there is love and truth around me; there is that with which my mind feels a direct communion. It operates on my will, -it sways my purposes; it has consoled me in affliction, it has added a new zest to my joys. The body I perceive through the senses, but the spirit by direct perception, mind with mind.