ridge's American followers, and most efficient in introducing his works to public notice in this country. And so far as we have seen, such is the sentiment of all who adopt the Coleridgeian or German metaphysics. Now, though we should grant some such distinction in the powers of the human mind, we do not understand how such vast consequences hang upon the recognition of it, as these persons imagine. It is doubtless good to know the truth, and the whole truth. But then all truths are not equally important, as this school virtually confess, by the incomparable importance which they attach to this. Well, if these faculties. exist, may they not do their proper office with all promptness and celerity, whether we have in form drawn the line of demarcation between them or not? Does our faculty of vision depend upon our knowing scientifically the various lenses and humours of the eye? And do they not see equally well, who never surmised that their eye-balls were not one, identical, undistinguishable substance? And do not they rightly remember, and compare, and judge, and reflect, and obtain knowledge by sensation and intuition, who never once heard or dreamed of a classification of the faculties of the mind into those of memory, judgment, etc? The case is too plain to require an answer. How then can this or any other analysis of the faculties of the mind be so fundamental to a just insight into the truths of religion? Is reason the organ of the "supersensuous," by which we discern spiritual truth, and does it belong to all men, as this school contends? Be it so. And may it not, and will it not see the truths. of religion when they are exhibited to it, whether it have, in the mind of the beholder, been scientifically, distinguished from the understanding or not? A truce then, to this favourite dogma of Transcendental, Pelagian and Metaphysical theologians, that there can be no just understanding of the Bible, without an antecedent critical analysis of the faculties of the mind of man, to which it speaks. Nor do we think Coleridge more fortunate in his attempts to impress the older divines and metaphysicians of Britain into the support of this distinction. Who supposes, for example, that Milton was not speaking with poetic license rather than philosophic precision, when he penned the lines so often quoted by our author and his followers in this behalf: "Give both life and sense, Fancy and understanding; whence the soul It is not in direct contradiction to the views of these writers, that "reason" is in any sense derived from the fancy and understanding? Thus, too, in quoting Leighton as authority for it, he is obliged to torture his language, so as to make "supernatural faith' stand for reason, and "natural reason," for understanding, (Aids, p. 135). In a like way, in a passage quoted from Harrington for this purpose, he is obliged to make "Religion" mean reason, and "reason," understanding, (Friend, p. 130.) Indeed he acknowledges that "though there is no want of authorities, ancient and modern, for the distinction of the faculties, and the distinct appropriation of the terms, yet our best writers often confound the one with the other." This indeed is his constant complaint in his reviews of the elder, and even the Platonic divines, whom he most admires. And as to the "authorities" he speaks of, we have not seen the first one cited by him, out of Germany, that is at all in point. And is it so, that a just comprehension of Christian doctrine is impossible, without the knowledge of a distinction, of which the great masters of English theology have been ignorant? But what is the alleged distinction? "Reason," says Coleridge, "is the power of universal and necessary convictions, the source and substance of truths above sense, and having their evidence in themselves." (Aids, p. 137.) Now that there is a faculty by which we see some truths, above sense in their own self-evidencing light, it is to be presumed none will dispute. It cannot be denied by any who do not hold that the soul is originally a mere blank, a rasa tabula. Nor do we now know of any reputable theologian who carries the maxim, "Nihil in intellectu, quod non prius in sensu," so far as to deny the existence of original, intuitive, self-affirmed beliefs in man, which so far from being products of reflection or argument, are themselves the ultimate proofs and tests to be appealed to, in all argument. Nor should we trouble ourselves to contend with any who think that reason may with propriety and advantage, be employed to designate the organ by which we obtain these intuitions. But how the organ can be likewise the "substance" of such truths, is not so evident. What is understanding, according to this school? This is variously described, as the "faculty judging according to sense," the "faculty of reflection," the "faculty of selecting and contriving means to ends," the faculty of intelligence which animals have in common with us. Now none will question that the human mind has such a faculty, or such faculties as are thus described. But the question is, is there aught in them, which renders it necessary or important, that the word should be applied to denote them and them exclusively? And has Coleridge or any one else so clearly drawn the boundary between the respective provinces of Reason and Understanding, that there can be no apology in future, for that, confusion of the words, which he so fervently deplores in the past? If so, we confess, that after no small study of his profuse and eloquent reasonings on the subject, we have been unable to trace it with certainty. We are aware that the fault will be imputed to ourselves. No matter whose it is. The fact itself is reason enough, why we should leave the subject. Kant finding himself urged by his system over the precipice of scepticism, invented the "Practical Reason," in addition to the Speculative, in order to escape this dread consequence. This he contended was the organ of moral and religious truths, or convictions, and that it commanded us unconditionally to attribute reality to its objects and revelations. Coleridge has adopted this part of his system. He speaks, (Aids, p. 115,) of "the Practical Reason of man, comprehending the Will, the Conscience, the Moral Being with its inseparable interests and affections." Now that we have a will and conscience and moral being, who will dispute? But what good ground has he assigned, or can any man present, for naming these, the "Practical Reason ?" Passing now to those moral and religious truths, which Coleridge prominently inculcated and enforced, and whose due vindication he supposed greatly to depend on the preceding distinction, we come first to the grounding principle in morals, the nature of righteousness. And here he brings all the resources of his mighty intellect to bear with crushing annihilating force upon Paley's doctrine of general consequences; or that righteousness consists in following the dictates of an enlightened selflove, and doing those acts which promise on the whole to be the best expedient for promoting our own highest happiness. On this system, righteousness is not an ultimate good in itself. It is simply a means of procuring happiness; wholly secondary and auxiliary to happiness. Nay, according to a famous Doctor of this school, the very word itself has its origin in this fact! Righteousness is the RIGHT way to the highest happiness. Upon this heresy, Coleridge bears down with an overwhelming torrent of "red-hot logic," and excoriating invective, in one of the noblest essays in our language, (Friend, p. 273, et seq.) He pronounces it one of his chief aims in the " Aids to Reflection” to inculcation the doctrine that "Moral Goodness is other and more than Prudence or the Principle of Expediency;" and in all his works contends for the "love of the Good as Good, and of the True as True." He well argues that the desire of happiness "can never be made the principle of morality," and that otherwise than as a regulated, and of course therefore, a subordinate, propensity, it can never be fulfilled or realized," (Aids, p. 259.) Again, "Pleasure I say, consists in the harmony between the specific excitability of the living creature, and the exciting causes correspondent thereto, considered therefore exclusively in and for itself, the only question is, quantum? not, quale? How much on the whole ?.. The quality is a matter of taste." (Ib. p. 24.) This is undeniable, and shows unanswerably the necessity of regulating the desire of happiness, by subordination to a higher principle, viz. the love of righteousBut what is this righteousness? asks the sapient metaphysician, bent on explaining away the plainest dictates, nay, the very ground and possibility of conscience. How do you define it? We ask in turn. How do you define white and black? Do you say that these are simple ideas, and therefore unde finable, because derived from, and therefore resolvable into, nothing beyond themselves? So we say of the idea of righteousness, holiness, moral goodness. It is simple, uncompounded, intuitive and self-evidencing. For him who does not understand it without definition, no definition can make it intelligible. ness. It is obvious then, that on Coleridge's system this is one of those truths that enters the mind through the reason as distinguished from the understanding. And believing as he did in the importance of a recognition of this distinction, in order to a just perception of self-affirmed truths; and feeling the magnitude and preciousness of the truth here at stake, bearing as it does on the very nature and essence of morality and religion, we can scarcely wonder at the estimate he puts upon this distinction. And yet as he himself observes, the fallacy of the whole scheme of a morality based on general consequences, had been previously shown by Bishop Butler and others, who were utter strangers to it. We think, however, that Coleridge's writings on this subject have accomplished great good in our country. They have contributed to render gross utilitarianism odious, and to exorcise it from many superior minds. They have helped to foster a pure and elevated tone of moral principle and feeling, an honourable, generous, disinterested, self-sacrificing spirit, with a scorn and detestation of the selfish, the mean, and the base. They have done much to counteract that self-love scheme of morals, which is distinctive of what was a popular system of theology, and vitiates the entire circle of Christian doctrine and experience. Had he written nothing else, he would have been. entitled to the gratitude of the friends of truth and righteousness. With regard to the divine origin and authority of the scriptures, Coleridge insists with great eloquence, on the importance and efficacy of the internal evidence of their truths in opposition to that class of men who rely on miracles and the historical argument exclusively. He urges eloquently (Friend, p. 381,) that the doctrine must show itself to be worthy of God, in order to vindicate the miracle and distinguish it from a "lying wonder," before it can be authenticated by such miracle. He allows and insists that miracles are necessary in their place, but claims that true faith sees an "in-evidence" in the truths themselves, of their divine original. This view we regard as substantially true and highly important. This is the doctrine of the soundest theologians, and of the Reformed confessions. And on what other ground, could the scriptures command all to whom they come, to believe them instantly on pain of eternal death, if they did not bear upon themselves the palpable impress of divinity, and speak as never man spake"? This doctrine, however, if liable to gross perversion, unless it be connected with another, viz: the need of illumination by the Holy Spirit, in order to a right discernment of spiritual truths, a doctrine assuredly taught in scripture, and maintained by evangelical divines. What Coleridge's views on this point were does not distinctly appear. Sometimes they seem scriptural, and some |