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Our friend was thoroughly practical in what he said and did; and this characteristic led him to discard any principle, however beautiful, if he conceived it to be merely ideal. When, therefore, he identified himself with us, he felt that his first duty was to develop in his own life the teachings of his creed, and then to make himself as useful as possible.

The whole tenor of his life evinced his anxiety to observe the first, and the second was manifested in the circumstance of his joining the infant church then in existence at Derby, and uniting with his brethren in extending a knowledge of our doctrines. He was successively appointed to the most important offices in the society, being for some time secretary, and subsequently chairman of the committee; he was likewise a trustee of the present chapel, and at the period of his decease had been for many years treasurer. His name has also long appeared as one of the collectors of the Swedenborg Society.

Mr. Corden was deeply impressed with the importance of public worship. He regarded it as no mean privilege to be enabled to join his fellow-members in offering up their united ascriptions of praise, and of seeking to gain some glimpses of divine light which would guide him through all the intricacies of life. He was accordingly most constant in his attendance-latterly often there even when experiencing bodily indisposition-and therein set an example which might by many be profitably imitated.

His conviction of the importance of making himself useful led him to perform many services, the results of which can but be imperfectly known. When he joined the church, the rising generation had far less opportunity of procuring the simplest rudiments of knowledge than is now the case; and this fact, coupled with the conviction that, from the great prejudice which existed against the doctrines in the minds of adults, the main hope of advancing them was in the young, led him to connect himself with the Sunday School then established, and with his wife and daughter he was many years its main stay. A few of these now belonging to the Derby Society are more or less the fruits of his indefatigable efforts, but there are many others who do not worship

with us, who have reason to be grateful for the instruction he imparted to them. The same feeling led him always to take an especial interest in those young men who promised to become useful to the church,-none experienced more pleasure than our friend in watching these indications, or was more ready to encourage them by his advice and friendship.

Without any solicitation on his part, he was in 1842 appointed to the responsible duty of distributor of stamps for the county of Derby. He also held several important public offices in the town, amongst others being secretary and manager of the largest local charity, and a member of the town-council, to which body he was appointed at his last re-election by the largest number of votes ever polled in the borough, although his political principles were not those of the popular party. He was thus brought into contact with persons decidedly unfavourable to the church, but he never faltered in his adhesion to it, always publicly advocating its claims, so far as he could do it without obtrusion; and this, added to the universal esteem in which he was held, doubtless helped to remove that intense prejudice against it which once existed in Derby.

Our friend felt most acutely the removal of his wife, to whom he had been united above forty years, in 1855 (see Intellectual Repository for that year); and although he received from his only daughter all the attention which filial love could devise, yet he missed one who had ever been ready to minister to his happiness. There is reason, however, to hope that his sorrow was gently assuaged by the consolatory teachings of our doctrines, from which he was enabled to picture the reality of the heavenly kingdom, and of the bliss he was shortly to eternally share with her.

His health, which had up to this time been unusually good, shortly afterwards began to fail. His illness was much protracted, and although his friends at times fondly believed he would be restored to them, unfavourable symptoms latterly dispelled the idea. Though naturally of an impatient temperament, he bore his sufferings, which were at times very severe, with unmurmuring patience and firmness, often saying, "The Lord knows best, and His will be done." His thoughts were then directed

to the contemplation of those grand truths relating to the solemn change he was about to make, and he found much solace from having the Psalms read to him, and felt their applicability to his state. His medical attendants were daily looking for his mind to be affected by his disease, which was peculiarly likely to disorder the brain, but he earnestly hoped and prayed that if consistent with the Divine Will, his faculties might be preserved to the last. His prayer was granted in a remarkable degree, and he was fully conscious until within a few minutes of breathing his last. Even when the limbs were cold and stiffening his intellect remained clear; and in answer to all inquiries, he said he was "well, quite well in mind and body;" also remarking "he was not dying, but was beginning to live."

In his private relations he was deservedly beloved, being a considerate employer, and most affectionate and devoted as a husband and father. An intimate acquaintance had for many years existed between him and the Rev. E. Madeley, of Birmingham, who read the burial service over his remains, and preached an impressive sermon to improve his departure.

The Derby friends, many of whom had known him from their earliest years, and the many ministers and friends who had shared his hospitality, will painfully feel his removal. They will miss his kindly frank welcome, and his expression of delight upon hearing of the progress of the external church, or of any improvement in the views of those out of it; but they are consoled by the thought that he had cultivated those graces which would fit him to inhabit one of the eternal mansions prepared by our heavenly Father.

It is far from our wish to say anything which might savour of exaggerated eulogium, as none would have more strongly deprecated such a course than our departed friend; but those who knew him best will recall many features of his character which merit their esteem.

He received the doctrines at a period when public opinion was far stronger against them than at the present day, when his dearest friends deplored the step he had taken; but throughout his long career he never swerved in his love

for them; on the contrary, he constantly affirmed that he regarded his possession of them as his greatest blessing. May those who survive him emulate him in their unwavering devotedness to the church, and in the unblemished quality of their lives!—so as to finally attain that state where

All is tranquil and serene,
Calm and undisturbed repose;
There no cloud can intervene,
There no angry tempest blows.
Every tear is wiped away,
Sighs no more shall heave the breast;
Night is lost in endless day,
Sorrow in eternal rest.

E. A.

At Wigan, January 11th, 1859, aged 61 years, Mrs. Mary Mason, wife of James Mason, organ builder. Upwards of thirty years ago she was led, through hearing a few lectures by Mr. R. G. Sheldon, of Liverpool, to examine and embrace the heavenly doctrines of the New Jerusalem. Being of mild and amiable disposition, she received the Truths with avidity, and what is still more important, she exhibited their power in her life and conduct. She was highly esteemed by all who knew her. The various missionaries and others who visited Wigan always found in her hospitable home a hearty welcome. She was truly a "nursing mother in Israel,” and will be greatly missed by the society at Wigan. Jerusalem was her chief joy, and she was ever delighted to hear the Holy Word explained as to its internal sense. At her request her affectionate husband read to her daily from the Word and the treatise on Heaven and Hell. This was her favourite work, and afforded much comfort in her illness. She spoke with full confidence in our Lord's mercy, and of the great joy in store for her and all who love the Saviour, and keep his precepts. An illness of ten weeks, terminating in inflammation of the liver, brought her earthly sojourn to a close. In short, her experience was that of good old Simeon-"Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace according to thy word, for mine eyes have seen thy salvation." Her mortal remains were interred in the Wigan new cemetery. The funeral service was read by Mr. E. M. Sheldon (one of the missionaries), who delivered a suitable oration on the occasion.

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CAVE and SEVER, Printers, Palatine Buildings, Hunt's Bank, Manchester.

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"And look that thou make them after their pattern, which was shewed thee in the mount." (Exodus xxv. 40.)

"It was therefore necessary that the patterns of things in the heavens should be purified with these; but the heavenly things themselves with better sacrifices than these. For Christ is not entered into the holy places made with hands, which are the figures of the true," &c. (Heb. ix. 23, 24.)

WE are about to approach one of the grandest, because most comprehensive, subjects that ever occupied the attention of man upon the earth, or of the angels in heaven. Whatever patient and laborious observation has been able to discover of subsolar things,-whatever careful science has been able to demonstrate of the order of creation and its developments, and whatever long-continued and profound study has traced out of the objects and uses, the causes and productions of nature, the results which all earth's philosophers of all ages have attained, all are to be marshalled upon one universal arena, arranged into one universal system, and explained by one universal science. That science is called Correspondence. Whatever may have been your particular object of study, or quality of thought, or pursuit of life, permit me earnestly and seriously to solicit your calm and candid attention to the positions I am about to affirm with reference to this subject; while you remember that I can no more compress it into one lecture, than I can lock up infinity within an hour's compass. To afford you a glimpse of an interminable vista is all I can hope to perform, and it is all I shall attempt to do.

We are surrounded in this exterior world of natural things with majestic forms, marvellous beauties, and sublime creations, that delight [Enl. Series.-No. 63, vol. vi.]

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the eye and almost overwhelm the mind. It has taken humanity certainly seven thousand years to overcome their awe at many of them, and instead of revering them as mysteries, to analyse and classify them under the names of science. This might seem marvellous enough; but human intellect has done even more than this. It has combined a broad and comprehensive system of eclecticism, by which it takes up the developments of particular sciences, scattered into distinct isolation, and of them has endeavoured to compose one vast, magnificent, orderly picture, which it has called the philosophy of science, or the science of the physical universe. Thus far have human intelligence, and human ingenuity, and human imagination gone in the long labour of tracking the path of Deity through His footprints in creation; and they have done well. Man by their means has climbed up the lofty pinnacle of external nature, and from eternal monuments can gaze out into infinity and ask for further light. Still in this sublime eclecticism, which is the summit of all human intelligence, we are confronted with incongruities which we cannot explain, and confounded with problems that we cannot solve. We call them mysteries, and we pause, bewildered and lost in internal darkness. We find "books in the running brooks, sermons in stones, and voices in everything;" but as we listen, those books seem to tell incongruous stories, those sermons preach paradoxical principles, those voices speak different languages. Individual men repeat what they hear, and the result is Babel and confusion. Earth is distracted with their warrings, and it seems as though human destiny were to be only multiplied division. The professors of every science differ on the very subjects of their studies, and the eclecticism that gathers in the individual sciences, also gathers in these differences, and is therefore but a combination of jargons. The world listens to the Babel of opinions, and feels that the key and the clue have not yet been discovered that can introduce harmony, order, and peace; that can explain apparent contradictions, unite apparently divided things, fill dark places with light, and pluck from the hidden face of Isis, the veil that conceals it and perplexes our research. Humanity utters its groan of despondency and its prayer for increased knowledge, with wisdom to use it. It feels that to explain these effects we must penetrate into another world,—the world of causes; and to comprehend that world of causes, we must understand something of a still interior world, the world. of ends. It perceives design imprinted on everything,—from the revolving planet to the rounded pebble,-from the giant megatherium to the minute animalcule, from the towering baobab of Senegal or the Washington pine of California to the tiny moss,-from the sun that illumines a

system to the stone that reflects its light, from the instinct of a worm to the intellect of a man,-from the drivellings of an idiot to the musings of a sage; for it detects the glorious truth that they must have been created from uses, for uses;" and it asks what are the ends and the causes of all these things, and what is the name of that science of sciences that treats of and elucidates them?

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Vain and self-conceited philosophy will reply, that these are mysteries beyond human comprehension, and never intended for the consideration of man; but true and sound philosophy abjures all mysteries. The form and motion of the earth was a mystery to the world for ages; but man has since learned to read the lesson right. The order of creation and the composition of the earth was a mystery for ages too; but divine light has glanced upon it, and it is a mystery no longer. As defect of strength makes many light things immovable to the child, so defect of understanding renders many simple things mysterious to the man. The child becomes a youth, and the immovable thing is moved; the man becomes a sage, and the mysterious thing is simple. Self-conceited philosophy has ever endeavoured to arrest the onward and upward progress of humanity. Had the world listened to its mutterings, Galileo's grand discovery would have rotted with him in the Inquisition; Columbus's intuitions would have never been proven, and America would never have been known; Newton's sublime conception would have been consigned to oblivion, the geological researches of Smith would have perished, and the wonders of electricity and magnetism have been postponed for a wiser and a later age. Thank God, the drivellings of this self-conceited and restricting philosophy have been but as mists before the sun! They may have lengthened out the twilight, but they could not arrest the consummation of the day They were doomed to dissipation, indeed, by the reaction of the very sunshine they attempted to obscure!

I assert, then, that these pseudo-mysterious worlds of causes and ends are now open to human inspection. The science of sciences of which I spoke, is revealed, and it is the desideratum of ages. It harmonizes and explains all the paradoxes and inconsistencies that have bewildered human intellects, and paralyzed human energy. It is the simplicity of truth, the beauty of goodness, the glory of hope, the gospel of the age, glad tidings to mental and moral wanderers, a "lamp in the path, a lantern to the feet," and "a light shining in a dark place." Let us enter, my friends, upon the portico of this sublime study.

I. I assert, then, in the first place, that every natural thing has a determinate character essential to itself.

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