as all speculations concerning the origin of religion and civilization must be based on the collected facts. These speculations are in themselves obscure, and it transcends even M. Constant's art to render them universally interesting; and no one should enter upon their consideration who is not prepared to bestow labour upon them, in the persuasion that there cannot possibly be any easy path to recondite truths.

As we have given an explanation of the nature of the religious sentiment differing from that laid down by M. Constant, we find ourselves continually opposed to his conclusions. Thus in p. 154, vol. i., he gives an animated description of the religion of the barbarian, as the simple pouring forth of adoration from a full heart, uninfluenced by terror or self-interest. Here we do not think that he has followed the true order of development. Religion is latent in the hearts of all men-that is to say, it exists unconsciously to the individual, until called forth by some circumstance; in the same way as the sense of duty is latent in those so beautifully described by Wordsworth as

"asking not if its eye

Be on them; who, in love and truth,
Where no misgiving is, rely

Upon the genial sense of youth;"

who do the "work of duty and know it not."

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But the question arises, What are the circumstances which educe this latent religion from the savage, and determine its form? Perhaps every one would agree in believing that misfortune and terror first "drive him to his gods. Hence we think that the emotion of veneration is first roused, not by the beautiful living creation around us, but by those phænomena, which, influencing our destiny, fill us with awe or fear; although in calmer moments the savage refines his religion and worships from affection as well as terror. For the same reason we think that selfinterest which (p. 158) M. Constant desires to exclude from the primitive feeling of religion, greatly prompts our first adoration. It is perhaps a false refinement, at all events it is one which was condemned by a papal bull in the case of Fenelon, to speak of religion and virtue, as being

more worthy when separated from all idea of the benefit they confer upon the individual; at any rate, there is no worship known among men which does not rest in part on calculation and the hope of benefit, be it refined or gross. Whether men bow before a whole conclave of gods as in Greece, or an impassive Trinity as in Hindostan, or the Unity as in Arabia, still they adore in the hope of gain; and when a sect appears, like the Epicureans, believing that God sits above the world, taking no share in its concerns, and not rewarding the worshipper, its followers neglect the temples, and perform no sacrifice. Nor is the savage an exception: he forms his god after his own heart, as one who favours those who honour him; and his offerings are presented in the hope of securing victory, in the contest with others, of attaining good, or avoiding evil. The description which (p. 168) M. Constant gives of the entrance of calculation into religion seems to us too artificial to be just:

"When mankind think that they have discovered the hidden power which they seek incessantly-when they have before them that object which they think endowed with supernatural powers, they then study under this point of view (that of self-interest) the object they adore. It is no longer the religious sentiment which governs them: it is the understanding armed for interest, and reflecting on the object which the religious sentiment has presented to it."

We think it would be more in character to expect men to tremble before supernatural powers, than to seek to turn them to their advantage, when they had once adored them. Unless self-interest and fear partly prompted the first acts of worship, we do not know how they could afterwards have so entirely coloured religion as they do among all nations.

In intimate connection with this subject lies the inquiry pursued in p. 170 and following, as to the manner in which the ideas of self-sacrifice, fasting and austerities, as things pleasing to God, enter into religion. M. Constant supposes that these acts are the promptings of affection alone. Self-sacrifice, he says, is inseparable from all lively and profound affection, and he instances the conduct of the knights of chivalry who sought danger and conflict as a means of proving their love. But here we think he over

shoots his argument: the knight certainly undertook his toil in the hopes of an earthly reward, in the same way as the monk and the hermit, theirs in the hope of a spiritual. Men's emotions cannot subsist upon abstractions. To call forth enduring feeling, there must be something real presented to us. Perhaps, however, this idea of self-sacrifice has a profounder origin than the refinements of affection or the hope of advantage; it images the contest between the passions and the conscience, which takes place in all men's minds. The attainment of every object of desire requires the sacrifice of incompatible pursuits; and, especially is this the case with the heights of virtue,-we must, if we would tread the sublime path, submit to many privations, and forego many enjoyments. This internal conflict makes itself felt in the conduct of life, and leads, when unguided by reason, to the idea that all pleasure is sinful. This seems to us the grand idea of asceticism rather than the rival theories we have mentioned above. Neither the dictates of devotional extasy, nor the mere calculation of benefit, much less priestly artifice, could have led to an idea which seems universally operative, which condemns the Hindoo to life-long tortures, and which even in luxurious England prompts the formation of Temperance societies. Asceticism is no peculiarity of Christian monks.

"The banks of the Oronoko and the Steppes of Tartary are the theatre of penance as rigorous as that which astonished the deserts of the Thebaid, and the celibacy so boasted by our saints has its martyrs among the savages.'

As in religion, the idea of a future state is one of the most awful and absorbing, M. Constant considers the source of this belief in the human breast. He does not attempt to account for it by metaphysical reasoning, but appeals to its instinctive nature. Here the ground of his argument seems to us more satisfactory than that usually occupied by English authors. The latter generally endeavour to prove it by logical demonstration, of which the subject does not admit. And hence an opinion is prevalent that a future life cannot be discovered by the light of nature. However, the history of the world proves that this is a mistake. The belief in a future life is so strong in most men, that, impossible as we find it strictly to analyse the

grounds on which it rests, it may justly be called instinctive. No nation is found in which it does not form part of the popular creed; and, in spite of all argument, the heathen continue attached to the belief of a future life, alalthough the divines of every church in Christendom have long ago demonstrated that they have no right to the idea. There is profound truth in the following observations :

"If, as we think we have shown, religion is always placed in the unknown, death should be the centre of our religious conjectures; for death is the most imposing mystery of all. Man is not led to believe in death by nature. This idea, even when his reason adopts it, always remains foreign to his instinct. He thinks of the universe only in its relation to himself, and of himself only as a being endowed with life. The nearer he is to the savage state, the stronger is his instinct, and the more feeble his reason: so much the more, then, does he refuse to believe that that which has once lived can ever die.

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However, the terrible conviction arrives, the sombre abyss opens, and no eye can penetrate it. Men immediately fill this void with religion. The immense void is peopled. The darkness is coloured,—and terror, if it does not disappear, is calmed and softened."

The reason why the idea of a future life has so firm a hold upon Heathen nations, cannot on the common ground be satisfactorily explained. They arrive at it, certainly, by no long-continued and laborious process of reasoning. The intense and longing desire for future life which most men have, is probably the foundation of their hope. Though this explanation suggests the prior question, Why do men desire a future life? To this, what answer can we give, but that God has implanted the feeling within us.

We quote the following extract, on the influence of death, for its beauty:

"It is from the idea of death that the religious sentiment receives its vastest and most beautiful developments. If we were for ever fixed on this earth, we should at last identify ourselves so entirely with it, that religion would fly from the soul. Calculation would have too much time, fraud too many advantages; and experience, whether sad or prosperous, would petrify in our hearts all but the selfish emotions, or those which are called up by success. death, which interrupts all these calculations, which renders these successes useless,-death, which seizes power, to precipitate it into the gulf naked and disarmed, is an eloquent and necessary

But

ally of all the sentiments which raise us above this world,—that is to say, of all the generous and noble sentiments. Even what the savage has most pure and most profound, is drawn from this idea of death.'

There is something in the above passage which may remind the reader of Sir Walter Raleigh's apostrophe: "Oh eloquent, just, and mighty Death! whom none could advise, thou hast persuaded; what none have dared, thou hast done; and whom all the world have flattered, thou only hast cast out of the world and despised: thou hast drawn together all the farstretched greatness, all the pride, cruelty and ambition of man, and covered it over with two narrow words-'Hic jacet.' Neverthe

less we believe that life is no less just in its awards than death. The next subject which M. Constant discusses is that of the origin of priesthoods. Notwithstanding the revival of priestly notions in England, under the guidance of Dr. Pusey, perhaps there never was a time when men were less disposed to give honour to the ministers of religion, than the present. However, when we compare the modern clergyman with the ancient priest, the reason of the change becomes evident. The priest united the functions now distributed among lawyers, physicians, and the professor of the university; and even in the explanation of sacred matters, the printing press has placed the lay preacher on an equality with the most highly ordained clergyman. Hence the diminutive influence exercised by the clergy in the present day is but a fragment of the colossal power which priesthoods formerly, and not unjustly, enjoyed. M. Constant, with many modern writers, is unjust to their claims. The priests presided over the origin of civilization, directing men's thoughts into higher channels than sensual enjoyment. Hence the consideration they enjoyed was the natural result of the importance of their labours. A class of men once formed, and occupying a commanding position, will always endeavour to extend and consolidate their power. But fraud and artifice will never account for their attainment of a commanding position, for men are too little disposed to obey, for us to believe that they ever submitted to anything but superior power. M. Constant has been led to depreciate the ancient priesthoods, through hostility to the Catholic clergy of France.