realism. To thus make the notion of objective reality only the commutation of the subjective for the objective, as this doctrine seems to do, is at variance with any adequate doctrine of natural realism; and can only be maintained upon the Kantean doctrine of hypothetical realism, which must, in its ultimate logical reduction, end in absolute idealism. This extreme subjectivism and relativity taint Mr. Mansel's arguments more than his doctrine; his arguments being sometimes more negative than his doctrine seems to warrant. It was a negative purpose-to exhibit the limits of religious. thought that Mr. Mansel had; and it was next to impossible, in the argument at least, not to push the negation a little too far.* Though our knowledge is limited and relative, still it is true and real as far as it goes; truth consisting in the correspondence between our thought and the real thing thought about; the apparent being real, though not absolute, but partial and relative. The distinction between knowing a thing, only as it appears, and not as it is in itself, involves, to some extent, the ascription, to the human mind, of that mendacity which only the Kantean distinction of phenomenon and noumenon, and between the understanding and the reason, can support; and is a deception arising from the necessary existence, in all human or limited thought, of a general and a particular element, of the inseparable union and co-operation of conception and perception in all concrete thinking; conception referring to sameness or matter, and perception refering to diversity or qualities. This subjective dualism in thought, of conception and perception, is necessary to the knowledge of the objective dualism in objects, of matter and qualities. Matter and qualities are necessarily thought as mutual relatives; and they are just as inseparable in nature, and as completely one in real existence, as conception and perception are inseparable and one in actual thinking, That objects are really such as we apprehend them, is the doctrine of natural realism. We know this, it seems to us, or we know *For a fuller exhibition of the extreme length to which Mr. Mansel has carried this one-sided thinking, we refer our readers to our No. for October, 1860, Art. 4, Reason and Faith.-ED. nothing. If we separate, in thought, matter and qualities, and endeavour to ascertain their mutual relations, we fail; and if we attempt to determine, in consciousness, the difference between them, we fail; for either, upon this last trial, will vanish as nothing, proving their inseparable unity, as an ultimate reality in nature, and an ultimate thought in consciousness. So, too, conception and perception are inseparable in their co-operation in actual thinking; each being impossible without the synchronous co-operation of the other. In human thought, there cannot be absolute unity; for the antithesis of consciousness is the highest and most perfect unity; and it is a dualism. The relativity of human thought necessitates this paradox of the one and the many, of identity and diversity, of matter and qualities; and limitation necessitates relativity. From the limits of thought, Mr. Mansel determines, very justly, that philosophy has, within itself, no adequate criterion by which to test the validity or invalidity of the supernatural. It can, therefore, pronounce dogmatically neither for nor against a revelation. It can only prepare the way for the positive evidences of Christianity, by removing difficulties. This doctrine does not conflict with the argument,. which we have presented in proof of Christianity as a divine revelation. Our argument is based on the relations of Christianity to the world and man. We have, thus, given an outline of our views of the problem of God and Revelation; and we have exposed the futility of rationalism, while we have vindicated the rationality of faith. ART. II.—Mémoires sur la Vie de Messire Philippe de Mornay, Seigneur Duplessis, &c., par CHARLOTTE ARBALESTRE, sa femme. Treutzel, Paris, 1824. THE history of the Reformed Church of France is like an epic, for we may say of it that it had a beginning, a middle, and an end. From her origin during the reign of Francis I., until Henry IV. gained the throne, in common with her Dutch sister, she was a "church under the cross.' From the publication to the revocation of the Edict of Nantes, though she enjoyed only a sort of surly recognition by the state, as a "pretended reformed" church, her condition was comparatively peaceful and prosperous. From the Revocation to the Revolution, she aptly styled herself "the church in the desert." To all appearance she had ceased to exist in France, for nearly a century; her ministry and membership seemed to have been utterly exterminated, or, as her persecutors called it, "converted to the catholic faith." During the first two of the above-mentioned periods, she could show a roll of worthies not inferior to that of any other church in Christendom, presenting a splendid array of theologians, pulpit orators, scholars, authors, civilians noble in rank and station, but nobler still for their heroic deeds. In the long list of historic names that adorn the annals of the French Reformed Church, not one is more truly illustrious than that of Philip de Mornay. Above all his contemporaries, he was a many-sided man, and yet every side of him exhibited rare excellence. He was a statesman, a diplomat, a general, a theologian, a scholar, an author, an humble Christian, a fearless confessor of the faith. In the camp, the cabinet, and the court, he was tempted to abandon the cause of truth, but from early manhood to his dying day, he stood firm as a rock, unmoved by the flatteries and the frowns of a monarch to whose service he had devoted his life and fortune-a monarch to whom he had been bound by common struggles, common sufferings, and a personal friendship of unusual intimacy, but who, in an evil hour, meanly consented to assume the cloak of hypocrisy in order to win a crown. The Romish party used to call De Mornay "le Pape des Huguenots." As he never evinced and was never accused of a disposition to play the pope, in the sense of lording it over his co-religionists, this soubriquet of his enemies is a striking proof of the high position he held in the Reformed church, of his commanding influence, and of the large share he took in the movements of his times. Voltaire, whose judgment certainly could not have been biassed by religious prejudices, pronounced him, "le plus vertueux, et le plus grand homme" of the Protestant party. "Jamais l'air de la cour, et son souffle infecté, Another eminent writer of later times declares that Philip de Mornay is beyond dispute, "un des beaux caractères de l'histoire moderne; appelé à jouer un des premiers rôles, à l'une des époques les plus mémorables de l'histoire de France, il allia un zèle ardent à une grande modération, et sut à la fois gagner l'amour des Protestants et l'estime de ses ennemis." This is high praise, yet we think that every candid reader of his life will agree that it is not more lofty than just. About twenty years after the death of De Mornay, five stately tomes were published by the Elzevirs of Leyden, bearing the title of Memoires de Philippe de Mornay.* The first volume contains a full narrative of the life and times of De Mornay, a part of which was written by his intimate friend Jean Laille, pastor at Charenton, and one of the greatest preachers of that age. In the remainder of the series, we have the correspondence, public and private, of De Mornay, besides numerous state papers from his pen, and we need hardly add, that they open to the historian a rich mine of information in regard to the most important transactions in church and state during the reigns of Henry III., Henry IV., and Louis XIII. Yet these plethoric tomes include only a portion of the material furnished by De Mornay's busy pen, to illustrate the stirring * One of the volumes seems to have been printed in France, and two of them in Amsterdam, but the series is uniform in size. . times in which he lived. All the letters, and parts of letters, by which contemporary personages might have been compromised, were suppressed, viz. those to and from the Dukes de Rohan, and de la Tremouille, President Jeannin, Henry IV., Marie de Medici, Louis XIII., and many others high in rank or office. Two centuries after his death, an enterprising publisher of Paris (Treutzel) proposed to issue a complete collection of the letters of De Mornay, together with his commentary on the history of De Thou, written in an interleaved copy of that work. The plan embraced sixteen volumes, only twelve of which were published, extending to 1614, but though incomplete, they form an invaluable complement to the more widely known Memoirs of Sully. The first volume of this last series (1824) contains a Memoir of the life of Duplessis Mornay, written by his wife, Charlotte Arbalestre, "pour l'instruction de son fils," which for two centuries had slept in the dusty archives of the family in the old chateau de la Foret-sur-Sèvre. It is an exquisite piece of biography, and a noble monument of Madame de Mornay's intelligence and culture as a Christian woman, and of her affection as a Christian wife and mother. We wish we had room for some extracts from the admirable letter prefixed to it, in which she utters her maternal hopes and wishes to "mon fils." Philippe de Mornay, baron de la Foret, seigneur DuplessisMarly, conseiller du Roi, capitaine de cinquante hommes d'armes, gouverneur de Saumur, (such were his hereditary titles and offices,) was descended from one of the oldest noble houses of Normandy, and was born at la Foret-sur-Sèvre, 5th November, 1549. His father was a zealous Romanist, and two of his paternal uncles had good reason to adhere to mother church, as both of them were among her high dignitaries, one being Bishop of Nantes, the other, Abbé of Beauvais, besides having other rich benefices, all of which he intended his nephew ultimately to enjoy. Like so many other great and good men, De Mornay was, under God, indebted to his noble and pious mother for the training which enabled him to render his name illustrious. Though she did not openly identify herself with the Reformed party while her husband lived, she had long had a warm love for the pure gospel, and |