"excite our younger theologians" to the investigation of some sixteen points, forming the main body of the Dissertation.

We do not deem it important to go over all this ground. Suffice it to say, that the drift of the whole is to bring logic into contempt, to make definitions useless, and to produce the feeling that language, which Coleridge calls an "intermediate something between matter and spirit," is so insufficient a medium for the communication of thought, as never to be understood aright. We do not marvel that this writer should speak so testily of logic; for certainly that science, judging from this book, has conferred but few favors upon him. As to definitions, he holds that they may be "both consistent and false, false, because of their consistency." P. 5. It would seem, by this, that inconsistency is the only sign of truth; and this may be the reason why he so much approves of its use. "In fact," he says, no man is more certain to run himself into mischievous error, than he who places implicit confidence in definitions." The only way, then, to avoid mischievous error in theological science is by an indeterminate and unexplained use of language. And yet, strange to say, he undertakes in this very book to give definitions of justification, atonement, and other important theological terms.

66

This character for utter uncertainty and necessary obscurity is imputed to language by him for two purposes; the first relating to himself, and the other to the religious public. As it relates to himself, it seems designed to answer the purposes of the cloud with which Venus, according to Virgil, was wont to invest her Æneas, thus helping him to go safely through the enemy's host. Who will venture to call into question the soundness of Dr. Bushnell's orthodoxy, now that he has demonstrated his own speech to be unintelligible? His expressions, or forms of truth, or to use his fancy term, his "molds " of thought, may not look quite right; but we must remember that just so far as they seem erroneous, so far we misunderstand him. This sort of subterfuge may be very convenient for him, but it is somewhat trying to his critical readers. We think that he will not find this privilege conceded to him; and that the common sense of mankind will decide, that if he prints a book in human language, it must be interpreted and understood according to the established laws of language. If language is not capable of expressing his thoughts with precision and clearness, then let him keep silence, till he can

find some reliable medium through which to impart them. Now he only gives us hints, which we are to understand as we may; with an assurance, to begin with, that we shall half the time hit upon a wrong solution. According to his view of language, truth can struggle into words only by torturing itself into all sorts of paradoxes and contradictions, and then it will have but a partial and distorted embodiment. This is discouraging and distressing. We see not how God himself can give us a revelation in human speech, which shall be any thing better than a book of riddles, incapable of any certain and satisfactory explanation. And great indeed is the temerity of our author in venturing to preach and print in any language, without more certainty that he shall be any thing better than a blind leader of the blind.

The other purpose which Dr. Bushnell appears to have in view while putting forth his theory of language, relates to the public. Having argued that language cannot exhibit the reality of truth, he would have us desist from definite statements in regard to the Trinity and the Atonement, and to cease from doctrinal formulas in general. He would have men leave all dogmas involved in mist, and seek for union in a revival of spiritual life under cover of that mist. This is to be effected, by prevailing with the Unitarians to abandon their stiff prejudices against all mystery in religion; and by prevailing with the Orthodox to renounce their attachment to creeds, or definitive statements of religious belief. We are to meet on a common ground of mystery, where all will be so dark, that we shall practically be of one color.

Deeming it needless to tarry longer upon the Preliminary Dissertation, we proceed to the main body of the book.

To characterize this part of it in brief, we may say that it contains, first, a rejection of the commonly received doctrine of a proper Trinity in the Godhead, substituting for it a pantheistic form of Sabellianism; secondly, a rejection of the doctrine of vicarious sacrifice by the death of Christ, substituting for it a manifestation of divine love for man, as the means of an at-one-ment with God; thirdly, an invective against specific statements of fundamental truths, and a plea for indefiniteness in theological knowledge and instruction.

Before proceeding to a critical examination of the book, we shall state some of the general impressions which it has made upon us.

We are of the opinion that if a book of the same character with this had been written by a member of the medical or legal profession on subjects connected with his department of science, a question would have arisen at once whether the writer were wholly sane. The wildest assaults are made on the most stable facts of revelation; propositions are laid down with great confidence and an air of defiance, which, if received, would subvert every school of theology in evangelical Christendom, confute our books of practical piety, the Pilgrim's Progress, The Force of Truth, and our practical commentaries on the Bible; make it necessary to give new instructions to Christian missionaries around the globe; and in short, confound all Christian churches with the discovery that they are fundamentally wrong.

There is a daring spirit in the book, which it is difficult to describe. This will give it a charm with many. A certain kind of interest necessarily attaches to a man who ventures, as this writer does, into the mysteries of the Godhead; and speaks as he does, of Gethsemane and its bitter cup, of Calvary and the sufferer. But should an æronaut in mid heaven hang by his hands outside of his balloon, and disappear from view in this position, admiration at his courage would be prevented by a feeling of indignation at such trifling with his life, and with the sensibilities of men. Any one can gain the notoriety which this author has done, in any department of science, provided he is willing to deny the most obvious truths in nature, and shed the fascinating light of fancy on the system of creation thus broken and confused. This writer, in a humble degree, and at a far remove, is what Berkeley was among metaphysicians, when he undertook to demonstrate that the external world has no real existence, being produced from our minds. Probably the world will be affected somewhat less by the speculations of this book, than it was by Berkeley's visionary system, though the author evidently expects a different result. We owe it to the honor of our science and profession, to set forth this book in its true light, as medical men expose pretended improvements in their science.

We are not so forgetful of what is due to justice and propriety, as to substitute ridicule for reason in speaking of this book. We shall reason upon it in due time. But there is a ludicrousness in it, taken as a whole, which almost prevents us from treating it in a serious manner, notwithstanding the solemn

nature of some of its subjects, a ludicrousness which will be most apparent to the best educated reader. This consists in the relation of the several parts to each other. The first two Discourses authoritatively, but in a somewhat obscure manner, setting forth new theories; followed by an invective against dogmatism; the whole prefaced by a Dissertation on the deceit. fulness of language in theological science; together with a set piece, deprecating with some contempt, any criticism upon the whole performance-produce an effect upon the reader not far from the ridiculous. Were we to indulge in a satirical vein, in speaking of the work, we might compare it to a Book of Pictures by a rope-dancer, containing the following preface: Ground and Lofty Tumbling; to which is prefixed an admonition to the reader, that he cannot be sure at any moment, whether the performer is down or up; followed by a protest against being laughed at, with some faces made up at those who shall dare to laugh; the whole concluded with an argument on the folly of ever attempting to make men keep step.

There is one presentation which the writer makes of himself, which will strike every observing and pious mind, though it may not have been accustomed to the criticism of books. We refer to the way in which he deals with things associated in the mind of a Christian, with profoundest awe and deepest religious experience. He reminds us of the French police officer, Petion, who brought back the fugitive Louis and the royal ladies in a carriage to Paris. He ate an orange in the carriage, in the presence of the ladies, with a certain "brusque familiarity," and tossed the peel out of the window very near the king's face. There are passages in this book which have made us think of Petion.

It has not, for many years, fallen to us to read a book in which an author assumes so important and elevated a position in his own esteem. Much, however, must be pardoned to the semiinspiration of a man who is raised up to alter the opinions of entire Christendom. No offence was taken when it was said exultingly by one, as our author seems to feel that it might truly be said by him without offence, how much disaster and trouble were borne by the people of the Lord, "till I, Deborah, arose, till I arose, a mother in Israel." Three great occasions were prepared for him to evolve these "views," which, he says, "I seem to have had only about the same agency in forming, as in preparing the

blood I circulate, and the anatomic frame I occupy." P. 98. "If they are rejected universally, then I leave them to time, as the body of Christ was left, believing that after three days they will rise again." P. 116. May he not be one of the two Apocalyptical witnesses? He seems to prefer, however, the more honorable mission for his book to have a future resurrection, not like theirs, but like the resurrection of the Redeemer of the world. "Instigated by " an "incautious warmth," he says, "I accepted the occasion offered [to deliver the discourse on the atonement,] as offered not to me, but to my subject." Thus the fulness of time had come, and kings and prophets now will see these discourses, while their predecessors died without the sight. Great ideas have a destiny as sure as the ages; occasions are prepared for them; then they have their inauguration; three of them were inaugurated in that one year, in which our author spoke before three seminaries of learning in New England. Now he marches them forth from conquering to conquer. Going forth," he says, "in silence, having time on their side, and God in company, they will open their way." Majestic "congress!" Lift up your heads, O ye gates! We have never read a book whose author cherished such a decided and confident expectation of a blessing on his labors.

The author is not unconscious of an unwonted power over the human mind. He tells the assembled clergy of Connecticut, the venerated and time-honored sons of that mother of good and wise men, that "God is a being so vast, that when I drew out the conception of him as existing in himself, I presume it was somewhat painful to you." P. 180. Many of them, no doubt, trembling under his prophetic rod, wished him to "spare their aching sight." He moved before the assembly at Cambridge in a half-revealing state, the prerogative of the ancient Delphi : "You will not require of me to be so intelligible here, as at the close." P. 192. He had many things to say, but they could not bear them then; so the light was let in upon them as they could best receive it. He promised them signs and wonders: "I shall carry you into a region separate from all speculation, or theologizing; and there, what I now dismiss, I shall virtually reclaim and restore." The "Presto" of magic, the "Open Sesame" of Oriental tales, is acted here. He commiserates, as he looks forth from his great mantle, our limited self-knowledge. "Few