perception and thought seem too well established to be again disturbed. But is it not possible that here again we have generalized too hastily? Every reader of the Bible must have observed that it makes much more frequent mention of the heart than of the head. The heart and circumjacent organs are constantly spoken of as the centre of emotion the fountain from which spring love, hate, joy, grief, compassion, gratitude, religious exultation, in short, all "the issues of life." "From within, out of the heart of man," says Christ, "proceed evil thoughts." This, it will be observed, is not only in unison with the modes of expression common to all antiquity, from Homer downwards, but is also a usage deeply stamped upon the most common habits of modern speech. Is it wholly figurative? Whence its origin and universal prevalence if not in well-known facts of consciousness? "It is experimentally certain," says Delitzsch, "that with anger, love, and every eager physical excitement, is associated palpitation of the heart; that the blush of shame has its cause in the heart beats, which drive the arterial blood towards the countenance; that generally, in a mysterious manner, mental affections change the pulsations of the heart." We do not allude to these things as in any way bringing into doubt the well-established fact, with which many passages of Scripture are in full accord, that the brain is "the central organ of the spirit which appears in man as soul," but simply as suggestive of the inquiry whether science, still advancing, may not hereafter more fully illustrate the exact accordance of the common and Biblical conception with physiological truth. May it not be possible that, while the brain is the ever active agent of the spirit, both in the collection of stores of information, through external perception, and in the various processes and transmutations undergone by those stores in the laboratory of thought, the heart, which is "not simply a great muscle, but has also ganglia or nervous centres," is, in a real and scientific sense, a "central hearth" of the spirit's intuitional, emotional and religious activities? Possibly the frequent allusions of the inspired writers to the blood as the life, the sphere of the indwelling soul, may thus receive fuller illustration.

If our view of the Biblical psychology be correct, it is manifest that the spirit in man must be regarded as the seat and source of all the powers of the soul, perceptive, æsthetic, intellectual, ethical and, as we should feel constrained to add, volitive. And here, we may observe in passing, appears the radical defect in any so-called science, which professes to guage the powers and capacities of the man by admeasurements of cranial developments. Apart from other difficulties, many and serious, here is a point we should like to submit to the

serious attention of the intelligent believer in phrenology:-What status does it assign to the immaterial substratum of our mental and moral nature? Has the individual human spirit, apart altogether from its connection with any material organs, definite and determinate characteristics peculiar to itself, or is it a mere blind force, whose office is simply to drive such machinery as it has, and to perform just the work to which that machinery is adapted? If the latter, the basis of individuality is, of course, destroyed, and man is a mere machine. This is no better than gross materialism. But if the other alternative is chosen, then either we may have mental features not traceable in the configuration of the skull, or the immaterial agent which corstitutes the essential ego must have the power of moulding the plastic contents of cerebrum and cerebellum into conformity with its own peculiar features. On the first supposition, either the science for all practical purposes is destroyed, or, worse, the thoughts, feelings and actions of this life afford no index whatever to the real character of the man, but only to that of the brain. If the other horn of the dilemma is taken, then we are forced to the belief that every mysterious change of spirit is recorded on a material scale; that in our physical structure is furnished an index by means of which the curious and the vulgar may trace every increase or decrease of intellectual, moral and spiritual power. Here, too, will arise a question of fact. Is there for every mental or moral change a corresponding change in cranial development? How does the test apply to the Bible doctrine of regeneration, or to the fact, than which no other is better established by the experience and observation of thousands, that a great and radical revolution often takes place in the inner man, by which the whole character is changed; faculties long dormant called into activity; passions and sentiments before in the ascendant brought into subjection, and entirely new feelings, hopes and motives implanted? Who ever traced the progress of such changes upon the surface of the skull ?

It now remains for us simply to inquire how the view stated in our last proposition harmonizes with those passages of Scripture in which soul is distinguished from spirit. We shall endeavor to do this by a few simple statements. Omniscient handiwork first moulds the human frame, with all its exquisite machinery and adaptations. Then the spirit of life is inbreathed. Man is thereby made a living soul. It is "the spirit which giveth life." "The body without the spirit is dead." "The last Adam was made a quickening spirit." In the reflected light of these and similar passages of Holy Writ, our interpretation of Gen. ii. 7 glows with meaning, while these passages

themselves become luminous with new and celestial lustre. Losing none of their previous force or beauty, we now find in them a new allusion, which irradiates the grand spiritual truth they convey as with a ray of sunlight. The life-giving spirit which informs the cold clay without losing, on the one hand, its own celestial nature, on the other manifests itself as a perceiving, feeling, thinking soul. In some incomprehensible manner inhabiting, interpenetrating, permeating, the innermost recesses of its earthly tenement, it henceforth has a twofold aspect-leads, so to speak, a double life. It has, in its pristine state, free communion with the "Father of spirits," and all spiritual intelligencies; but it has also been brought, through its corporeal medium, into contact with things material, and made subject to earthly conditions. It has not lost the spiritual character, which is God's likeness in it, but it has through the media of physical organs and wants become possessed of a physical character. In respect to its origin and essential nature, and in all its heavenward aspects, it is still spirit. In respect to its material connections and relations-as conditioned by bodily organs, appetites and passions-it is thenceforward soul. But it is still and ever essentially one and indivisible.

We leave to the reader the application of this view to the prevailing usage of the word "soul" in Scripture, as denoting the individual life, whether in its narrower or broader sense. Its applicability to those numerous passages in which the words soul and spirit seem almost or quite interchangeable will readily appear. Nor are many words necessary to reconcile it with that smaller class of expressions in which the two words are distinguished or contrasted. The basis of reconciliation will be found in that dread change which passed upon our first parents as the penalty of transgression. That the death denounced upon them did not mean the mere extinction of animal life, is sufficiently clear, from the fact that this latter change did not take place "in the day" in which they tasted the forbidden fruit. That this phase of death was involved in the punishment inflicted, is equally clear from many subsequent statements.

Just here arises an interesting question, to which the narrative affords, perhaps, no certain answer. What would have been the destiny of the body had Adam and Eve remained sinless? We are not, we confess, fully satisfied with what seems to be the common view, that the human body was originally, in respect to liability to dissolution, on a par with those of other animals. If the life principle were the same, this would be the natural conclusion. On this assumption is probably based what seems to be the opinion of most commentators, that, while the natural tendency of the fleshly body was to decay and

dissolution, the presence of the tree of life in the midst of the garden symbolizes a possibility and means of overcoming this natural tendency. This idea seems to us too much the opposite of the Scripture conception to represent the truth. The impression left by the Mosaic narrative is not, we think, that of an adaptation for death, with a possibility of life, but that of an adaptation for life, with a possibility of death. If the bodily life had its origin in the vital energy of the God-given spirit, why might not that same inherent vital energy have rendered the whole man immortal, so long as his finite spiritual nature retained its pristine and normal relations to the Infinite?

Can it be proved that decay and dissolution are necessary conditions of material organisms? Why may not the same vital force which sustains and renews the body for a hundred or a thousand years, do so perpetually? And what is our glorious Gospel hope of the resurrection body but that of one which is to be rendered deathless by the power of the redeemed, regenerated spirit? May not the spirit, in its original purity and power, have been equally potent to preserve its original abode, and cause it to flourish in immortal youth, had not the seeds of death been sown by sin? Of course we know nothing of the refining and elevating process through which it might have been destined to pass, or whether its immortality could ever have been fully secured until it was transmuted into a house eternal in the heavens.

There can be no doubt that death, in its fullest generic sense, came upon our first parents as the immediate consequence of the "mortal taste" of the forbidden fruit. This death, doubtless, drew in its train of consequences, the ultimate death of the body. Of all that was involved in that dire and mysterious change, we can even yet form no adequate conception, though its force and meaning our race has ever since been learning, in all the vicissitudes of its sad history. Its full force and meaning the lost spirits will be all eternity in learning. It was a severance from the great source of life. It was the tearing asunder of the life-string which linked the spirit of the creature to that of the Creator-the dislocation of "the spirit from the Divine love, its true life-centre." That which was primarily and at once lost, seems to have been the confidence, the absolute trust, in a word, the unmeasured and ineffable love, which was destined to keep the life-springs of the soul fast centred on God and in God. Love to its Author is everywhere brought to light in the Bible as the only life-sphere, the highest and normal duty and exercise of the human spirit. Its absence is the universal sign and proof of death. It constitutes the mighty spiritual attraction which binds

the myriad hosts of heavenly intelligences in living bonds to one another, and all in unbroken allegiance to the throne of God. It was, as some one has said, "the principle of that holy and happy life in which the derived purity of the creature held a fellowship of intimate and delightful congeniality with the underived purity of the Creator." And this it is which is restored in the regeneration, the entrance into the new life.

There can be no doubt that in his original state, man's body, with all its wonderful organs, was intended and adapted to be not only the spirit's holy habitation, but its most efficient servant, its ever active and ever submissive minister and messenger. Perfect, absolute order and subordination reigned amidst all the powers of the soul. Love supreme to God, and love like that of self to all his holy creatures, held in absolute sway intellect and heart, imagination, appetite, and passion. But with the fall, all was deplorably changed. Discord and anarchy succeeded. The spirit, cut off from the highest, the immediate channel of supply and source of light, seems to have become, in a much larger degree, dependent upon its material organs. It is now the dependent and slave of the sensenerves, the beneficiary of external perception. Internal perception is henceforward at its minimum. Bodily appetites and passions usurp an unwonted and degrading ascendency. As it was thus, through its connection with a bodily organism-that which constitutes it soul— that the spirit became ensnared and fell; and as it is still through the same agencies that it is "led captive by Satan at his will," we have no difficulty in understanding the form of expression which sets soul apart from, and often in opposition to, spirit. When the spirit is made alive from the dead, renewed in the image of Him who created it, its great enemy is henceforth found in the flesh. "The flesh lusteth against the spirit, and the spirit against the flesh." The renewed spirit finds every heavenward aspect blurred, every heavenward tendency clogged, by its imprisonment in a shattered and decaying tabernacle of flesh. No wonder that it longs for deliverance from the bondage of corruption. Not that it would be unclothed, but clothed upon with a purified body, bearing the image of the heavenly. The man regenerated by the Spirit of God is no longer characterized by that which is psychical, but by that which is spiritual, and hence groans in spirit, waiting for the adoption, to wit, the redemption of his body. He looks with ardent longing for the time when this vile tenement, having been "sown a psychical body" shall be "raised a spiritual body."

We close with the remark that the Scripture doctrine of the