own worth, and produces a mass of evidence from which the impartial inquirer will draw conclusions far beyond the limits of any of their systems. The result at all events is a clearer knowledge of the past, and a proportionate accession to the means of future progress.

In some respects, this one-sided spirit may prove for the time a positive advantage, as it will stimulate inquiry and reflection such as mere curiosity or the abstract love of knowledge could never have maintained in activity. When we look at the number of volumes which the societies, already described, are yearly pouring into the world, and remember, that their contents, often so dry and recondite, are offered to the laity, we are ready to smile with incredulity at the thought, that any effect should be anticipated from so unpromising an experiment. But an interest is now abroad on religious questions, heightened by party zeal, sufficiently intense to overcome all the indolence and fastidiousness that might else have shrunk from an irksome and laborious task; and we are persuaded, that there are already not a few, and still more daily rising into life, among the laity of all parties, who are resolved to examine for themselves the great religious controversies of English history, and to form their conclusions from evidence which their own researches have collected. The volumes we have announced, offer facilities for this purpose, that have never before been enjoyed. Their appearance indicates, that the grand debates of the 17th century are once more to be renewed, but, we trust, in a better spirit, and with the prospect of a more satisfactory issue. From those debates all the questions most interesting to us at the present hour, and fraught with the most important consequences to our posterity, derive their origin; and as the questions themselves are not yet solved, the debates must be considered as merely postponed, not terminated. The Revolution of 1688, which silenced them for the time, was a compromise rather than a settlement.

After the interval of a century of calm light and philosophical indifference, in which old animosities died out-and with the examples of America and France for guidance and warning-the public seems preparing to enter on this high controversy again; and if it be fairly gone into, with all the knowledge and experience that have now been acquired,

we have no apprehension for the result. Many may enter into it with party feelings, but more will come out of it with a Catholic spirit. We cannot believe, that educated, thoughtful men of the nineteenth century will make themselves well acquainted with the religious struggles of their forefathers, and only arrive at the conclusion, that the enduring peace of our country must be procured by the exclusive establishment of Puritanical or Church principles, or a system wholly independent of either. The light in which they live, will clear up for them many of the dark and perplexed questions of a former period; and these again, rightly understood, will deliver them from many prejudices in which their present position and relations entangle them. They will learn unconsciously to separate the spirit of religion from its outward forms. They will perceive, that, however history may sustain the claims of authority up to a certain point, and exhibit groups of facts so surprisingly combined and so marked in their influence, that it is difficult to believe God was not, in some more especial manner, in the midst of them-the only proof after all, that a principle, a doctrine or an institution is really divine, must be found in its adaptation to the wants and endowments of humanity and the circumstances of society, in the experience of its holy and happy influence on the heart and life; and they will thus be led by their own reflections on the evidence of history, to place the basis and sanction of religion not in anything external-for this they will observe is ever variable and uncertain—but in the immutable laws and properties of the spiritual nature of man. Without a constant reference to this fixed and central unity in man himself, all the phenomena of history will present an unmeaning chaos. And this obvious conclusion of every thoughtful mind must tend to bring the results of history into a comparison with the principles of psychology and the discoveries of the physiologist, and so effect that union of views, out of which a true religious philosophy may at length arise.

We infer from all this, that religious progress must in the end ensue from a movement which seems at first sight a superstitious retrocession towards the past. But the progress that is prepared by such a discipline cannot be a thoughtless and precipitate one. With all its earnestness

it will partake of the deliberation and wise conservatism always inspired by history. It will keep all that is beautiful and excellent, and cast away only the worthless and the obsolete. And is not such a progression, which accepts and unfolds deep-seated and active tendencies, and, under the guidance of comprehensive analogies, makes the future a continuous and living development of the past, far more conducive to human virtue and happiness, to the successful cultivation of knowledge and the arts, and to the discovery of truth,-than the sudden and convulsive changes, which, impatient of all prejudice and imperfection, break up the whole fabric of society at once, with hasty violence dissipate old beliefs and destroy established usages, and mistake revolution and anarchy for reform?

If we analyse the religious mind of England, as it is presented to us in the history of the two last centuries, we find it ultimately resolvable into three elements, which, though rarely existing pure, and exhibiting many intermediate grades of combination, have each a distinct character and operation, and involve each some portion of truth. These elements are the traditional, the scriptural, and the speculative principle; and a true national unity—such as all progress should tend more and more to realise-an unity, not of outward form, but of moral sympathy— must recognize their joint influence, find out their point of mutual adjustment, and harmoniously combine them.— In the externals and mere concomitants of religion, as of government, there must necessarily be many things of great relative importance, as links to bind it to the actual condition of society, and give it a firm hold on manners and opinion, for which it would be difficult to assign any better reason than that they exist-that they have grown up spontaneously from usage, and invested with a natural growth the structure of society-and that the removal of them would be injurious to essentials. Such circumstances cannot be determined by any abstract views or à priori reasoning; and to subject them to the rigid test of logic, is the very pedantry of an utilitarian philosophy. If the line of usage is arbitrarily broken, and such questions are left open for decision on the grounds of general reason, the wantonness of individual caprice will run riot in every conceivable form of impertinence and folly. The

deepest, holiest, realities of our being-worship, religious sympathy, social and political relations-are all in themselves invisible; and they require a form, a symbol, to attest their presence. If they are strongly felt, they will work out a form for themselves, and put on naturally the habiliment which their relation to the external world requires. It is in times of strong religious excitement that new forms arise; in tranquil periods, usage suffices as a direction. It has been the folly of mankind to wrangle about these forms, and overlook the eternal verities which they expressed-forgetting that the forms are indeed nothing in themselves, but that their earnest, reverential association in any mind with a spiritual principle, bestows on them a sanctity that should never be assailed. A narrow, half-enlightened reason may easily make sport of all such forms, and ask why they are retained, and why one should be preferred to another; it is sufficient to reply, that some forms there must be, if religion is to endure as a social influence-and that the forms already in existence are the best, if they are in unison with human sympathies, and express, with the breadth and vagueness which every popular utterance must from its nature possess, the interior convictions of the general mind. What would become of the most sacred truth, if all the forms which have harboured it were destroyed at once by an unrelenting reason, and it were driven naked and shivering about the earth, till some clever logic had contrived a suitable abode for its reception? It is on these outward forms of religion that the spirit of artistic beauty descends, and moulds them into fitting expressions of the invisible grace and majesty of spiritual truth.

Now in all these things, there is wide scope for the beneficial exercise of the Traditional principle; and we confess we have no sympathy with the Puritanical feeling that repudiated it altogether, and would have limited the outward development of the Church to a standard arbitrarily assumed in the scriptural measure of its infant growth. We are fully aware of the tendency of this principle to a dangerous excess; for we are still more opposed to Puseyism than to a rigid Puritanism. But our theory presupposes the co-ordinate operation of another principle-progressive reason, free speculation—

by which that tendency would be kept in check, and directed to wise and beneficial effects. Our practical view, expressed in general terms, is this:-that the future should build on the foundations of the past; - that usage should suggest the analogy of progressive innovation ;-that all forms, expressions, and doctrines, which are no longer supported by the general conviction, should be discarded at once;-that while the utmost freedom should be allowed to every teacher, of delivering his sentiments to public congregations, even though he be unable in some things to join in their established forms of social worship (that the public may have access to the views of thoughtful and inquiring spirits, and be led to sympathize with the higher tendencies of mind), the organization of religious societies should be so constituted as to secure a calm and deliberate expression to the will of a real majority;—and that, after ample time to allow momentary impressions to subside and permanent convictions to fix themselves, either such changes as vitally affect the social utterance of religious feeling should be solemnly introduced by the resolutions of that will-or, if this be impossible, the discordant elements of opinion should peaceably separate, and pass off into distinct spheres of activity.

After this statement of our views, not much need be added on the Scriptural and the Speculative principles. The former constituted the soul of Puritanism, but in a narrow and exclusive sense. The Puritans argued, as if there were only one book, and one expression of God's will, in the Universe. Yet it is equally true, that, according to any views we can at present form of man's nature and prospects, the Bible, and especially the New Testament, must ever remain the purest and richest source of all moral and religious influences to the human soul. It seems, however, to us, that its spiritual power would be vastly increased by studying it reverently indeed, but with freedom and openness, rather as a sacred literature, than as a verbal standard of doctrine and practice-rather for its general spirit than for its particular precepts; and that, on this account, it ought to occupy a larger share of the attention which has been hitherto disproportionately given to the poetry, and oratory, and philosophy of the heathens, -as the best discipline and nourishment of the young mind CHRISTIAN TEACHER.-No. 27.

C