plying to each its appropriate rule of exposition. Thus it becomes comparatively easy to clucidate the doctrines of the Bible, and the liabilities to error are greatly diminished. Its apparently incongruous utterances are resolved into a grand, sonorous harmony, which the finest natures recognize at last, as an authentic peal from the diapason of truth.

Now, our denominational faith has been formed upon this rational method of biblical interpretation. While this method alone can harmonize the testimonies of the Bible, our faith appears as the spontaneous result of its application. Our theology occupies the same relation to the Bible, that Champollion bears to the hieroglyphics of Egypt. For ages, those mystic characters had defied the ingenuity of the learned, and furnished material for infinite speculation to the credulous and the imaginative. At last Champollion appeared-the potent wizard at whose mandate the most surly antiquity was to speak; and no sooner had he applied his phonetic system to those recondite monuments, than they yielded up their dark secret, and this key of the antiquary unlocked the chambers of the elder empire. The Bible has been, for ages, a collection of spiritual hieroglyphics, difficult of comprehension, imperfectly explained by inadequate canons, and furnishing to the blundering reason an occasion for infinite errors. But at length we are furnished with a key to its dim and recondite meanings. Under an intelligent and discriminating interpretation, its obscurities light up with sudden significance, and its seeming contradictions flow into consistency. Not only does revelation now approve itself to reason, as harmonious, but the great principle and purpose that pervade and unite the whole -the principle of truth and the purpose of its disclosureare approved as consistent with God's nature, and worthy of his universal love.

Finally, a sect rising in this age enjoys another advantage in the enlarged social culture to which the world has now attained. The mental atmosphere is clearer, admitting of a wider intellectual survey, as well as of a more accurate comparison and analysis; the human faculties are

4 Precis du Systeme Hieroglyphique des An. Egyptiens. Paris, 1824

more lambent, disciplined to greater precision of movement, than when the older sectarian faiths were founded. Every faith absorbs and assimilates the highest mental and moral power of the age in which it originates,-is moulded to the image of the transient ideal that marshals the human mind along its ascending course. This is true of the various Limitarian faiths; including the tawdry furniture of Romish superstition, and the abhorrent barbarities of Calvinistic theology. They embody the spirit, and express the capacity of the times in which they were organized. But the soul of man has not been dormant through all these ages. The Almighty has not spoken twice or thrice, thenceforward to withhold his spirit from the creatures he has made. Truth, though often laid prostrate by tyrants, and parodied by fools, has risen as often in perennial majesty, and contended for the victory against all the mob of errors. While lichen and moss have been painting the rocks, while the active intellect has been furnishing the bristling armory of science, the spirit of truth has been renovating the soul, hanging new figures in its chambers of imagery, and pouring through its expanded arches the beams of eternal beauty. We have reached a position where we must part from our old guides, and give heed to other oracles. Human reason has now something better to offer, and the human heart demands something nobler to enjoy. The more receptive humanity of the age craves the gospel of Jesus Christ in its primitive completeness; and, wherever its vital splendor gushes upon the soul, that quickened power, like the sun-lighted lips of Memnon, breaks into music.

The springing possibilities of this age-its spiritual longings and its intellectual comprehensiveness; its aspiring philanthrophy and its culminating reason, spontaneously crystallize themselves in the faith of Universalism. Universalism is the synonyme of the greatest thought, the divinest virtue, the sublimest hope, the consummate harmony. The discipline of the soul, and the culture of the intellect, alike culminate in this. For what does Universalism proclaim? It proclaims that God is purposing and working to confer upon the human race the highest spiritual blessing of which they are susceptible,—which is immortal holiness and happiness. It proclaims this, be

cause the attributes of God can involve no other issue. He is the creator of all spirits, and hence responsible for all human existence. He is the Father of all spirits, and hence sustains the most tender relation to mankind. He is characterized by infinite and universal goodness; kind to the unthankful and the evil; no respecter of persons; and this goodness is armed with almighty power, and exercised in infinite wisdom. This is what nature and Revelation, with one voice, declare; and it is what all Christians accept as indisputable truth. Universalism is the logical sequence of these fundamental truths, which are rooted in every church. It is not of a nature to demand extraneous evidence. Its best defence is found in its very statement. It is based upon the acknowledged attributes of God; in its process, it blends with the order of Providence and with the forces of Christianity; while in its result, it presents the perfect fruit of spontaneous and universal love. As it is the nature of the mid-day sun to fill the cope of heaven with light, so it is the nature of the perfect deity to fill the universe with holiness and joy. Before his effulgent goodness, the domain of evil insensibly contracts; man's torpid sensibilities revive and flow; the illusions of ignorance disappear; the fetters of passion break asunder; the tongue of the dumb soul sings; and the humanity that went sobbing out of Eden's gate, finds a renovated paradise in all the lands of God.

E. W. R.

ART. XIX.

Unguided Mental Action.

THERE are certain conditions of the human mind which have largely claimed the attention of thinkers, because of their departure from the accustomed uniformity of mental operations. In the normal and healthy condition, there is always witnessed the presence of a supreme guiding force, whose authority is paramount, and whose mandates all

the other faculties obey. This force we call the Will. It determines the course one shall pursue; and, by its rectitude or perversity, its strength or feebleness, shapes his character for good or for evil. But in other conditions, this power is suspended and sometimes lost. The mind acts independently of it, and, therefore, departs from its accustomed course. In these conditions, there is no uniformity in its operations. It defies all calculation. Its movements are eccentric, and can never be foreseen, much less foretold.

We propose, in this article, to consider the subject of Unguided Mental Action, and to present some of the forms in which it is witnessed. Some facts connected with it are of exceeding interest, and have an important bearing upon things of practical utility. The subject ought to be better understood than it is, because of its relation to the welfare of the mind. A little reflection upon it by people generally, would, if we mistake not, render them more cautious than they are, how they tamper with the delicate organism of their mental constitutions. This finely tuned instrument, the human mind, more skilful in its contrivance and more nicely wrought in its mechanism than the most wonderful masterpieces of human ingenuity, is indeed a fearful thing. People should be careful how they deal with it. Unskilled hands should never be permitted to sweep its keys. Never, in idle curiosity, should they handle or displace its chords; and never, in wanton sport, should they draw from it discordant notes.

I. The first form of involuntary mental action, claiming attention, is witnessed in dreaming. Nature has kindly provided, that, when wearied in body and in mind, we shall cease from the activities of life, and find repose and refreshment in sleep. The eye closes, the limbs no longer move, the will retires from its throne, and all our senses are lost in oblivion. The voluntary powers of the body cease to perform their accustomed functions. The involuntary powers, however, are yet active. We breathe in sleep, as well as when awake. The blood circulates; the heart and pulses beat, and the work of digestion and nutrition goes on. So with the mind. The will abdicates its authority, and the judgment or reasoning power is suspended. Not so with the other mental powers.

They are often active as ever. Events occur to us the same as when we are awake, and seem as real. Sometimes there is even more quickness of thought in sleep than in the waking state. Time and space are annihilated. In five minutes, one will dream of events, which, if they really occurred, would require years of time, with thousands of miles of travel. These thoughts are usually disjointed and fragmentary, without coherence or consistency. They are erratic and wild, simply because the guiding power of the will is suspended. If we believed in phrenology, and supposed the mind to be the result of machinery, (which we do not,) we should say that the machinery of the brain continues to move, while the will is asleep. The mind acts without its guiding power; and, thus acting, ceases to carry with it those indications of nobleness which appear in the wakeful state. As is said by a writer in the Spectator: "While we are awake, we are at liberty to fix our thoughts on what we please, but in sleep we have not the command of them. The ideas which strike the fancy, arise in us without our choice." 1

II. Involuntary mental action is witnessed in that state of mind which is termed revery. Sometimes this action is called day-dreaming. Though the person is awake, yet he has so acquired the habit of surrendering the control over the current of his thoughts, as to permit them to rove, without guidance and without restraint, wherever fancy may lead. Instances are not of rare occurrence. Among the young especially, we often note those who seem not to be conscious of what is passing around them. Though surrounded by those of like age and station in life, they are yet alone in the world, and live on, unconscious of actual scenes. They pass their time in a sort of dreamy indifference to life and its great concerns; and it is only by inducing them to put forth the utmost endeavors of their wills, that we can arouse them to any of those manly exertions so needful to the faithful doing of duty.

This condition of the mind is to be carefully avoided. Those who have the care of youth should discourage its first indications. The mind, in the wakeful state, should