The stomach must be appeased, the body must be clothed, the family must be sheltered, the supply for future need must be secure at least for a week or man cannot hold that dignity and independence which are the conditions of moral development and quiet self-culture. Hence, to the application of moral influences, material civilization is a necessary requisite. But cannot the hope of Immortality and the influences of Religion be brought to act, and are not these the really efficient forces on which we may rely? Yes, our author would reply. These are indeed the most potent influences, without which man cannot and will not rise. But what is the Immortality which must be hoped for, in order to lift man upward? Is it an Immortality that dispenses with goodness, or an Immortality which though it promises goodness hereafter, does not begin in goodness here. That hope of Immortality only can elevate, which begins in this world a worthy life of present goodness. With Faith in Immortality, there is and must be Faith in God. God is and must be, because man aspires to be immortal. But what is the God in whom men are to believe? Is it the God of terror, before whom they are cowed in slavish subjection, and who keeps the world in the decent order in which it is held together, by the obscure terror that is ever attached to the chief policeman of the Universe? Not in the least, but a God who is the loving and patient Father of his creatures; not merely judging men in view of what they are, but of how they became what they are; a Deity "who is perfect reason and perfect love."

But is not this the God of Christianity? The author does not say that it is not, but he plainly intimates that this is not the God of Christian professors and believers. And he would also leave us to infer that they do not find this conception in their Bible and their creed. But does he not know that they might find it there, if they would? And does he not enforce his system by a distinct and frequent reference to the teachings of Him who, though he was the manifested Redeemer, was also the greatest of ethical teachers, and the wisest of social reformers? This brings us distinctly to the question, What is the position of the author with respect to Christianity? If

he himself were asked, he would doubtless claim that his work was one of the most Christian of books, and that his system of Faith is truly and purely Christian. But what, if he were asked still further, how much he believes of the Christian history, and of the Christ whose life, words and deeds are therein recorded? He condescends not to utter a word, except that now and then he drops the oracular saying, that miracles, in the vulgar sense, are impossible, all the wonders of Nature to the illuminated eye being truly and equally miraculous. The discussion of the subject, however, he evades, or rather he quietly disposes of it by assuming that to debate it, is no longer necessary. It is quite significant that in the conflict of opinions, as mirrored in the serene and philosophic mind of the dying Charles Thorndale, the opinion that the Christian history is a history of facts, is not deemed worthy of notice, in order that it may be refuted. How he excuses this omission to his own mind, we shall explain farther on. That he makes it, is the significant fact to which we now call attention. It strikes us as somewhat singular, that in a country where questions of historic verity are somewhat familiar to the minds of thinking men, and where among a large number of those whose knowledge and general culture entitle them to, some consideration, there still lingers the "opinion" that the historic record concerning Christ is worthy to be examined, this opinion should not receive a moment's attention in a work so ambitious as this, but that it should be quietly assumed that the opinion has no further claims to regard.

Ought we, then, to pronounce this an Infidel or Anti-Christian book? It is not a book in which the faith and worship of the Christian church are treated with contempt or obloquy. For this worship, whether it be the prayer of the infant at its mother's knee, or the sobbing outcry of the broken-hearted prodigal, the author has a warm-hearted sympathy and an unfeigned respect. Faith in Christ and the Church, with the hopes and inspiration which it brings, he acknowledges to be the mightiest force that yet stirs the heart of the individual man, or that sways before its mysterious presence the great masses that are compacted in society. For this Christian Faith, however, he would substitute a belief in the God of Nature and of the Soul.

This natural Theism he would warm into a living glow that should surpass the intensest fervor of Christian worship. But the Truth which gives to all faith and worship, whether Christian or Theistic, their meaning and value he distinctly and deliberately rejects, viz: the mysterious endowment of freedom, involving as it does the awful liabilities of moral responsibility, and the terrific fact of sin. The author of Thorndale is a philosophical necessitarian, who holds just as much of Christianity as such a dogma will allow him to retain, but who has remorselessly applied this dogma to macerate all the moral energy of the Gospel, and to render impossible its historic facts. The process by which this result has been reached by any mind, it would be curious to trace. In the case of the author it has been attended with manifold misgivings; such betray themselves in every line -in the form of large concessions, of hesitating assertions, and of lingering sympathies. The reasonings which have brought him to these conclusions are a curious illustration of the tremendous force in a speculative system, to prevail over sharp intellectual insight, a wide observation of men-an enlarged cultivation by literature--a warm and sympathizing human soula quick and active conscience, and an early Christian education.

But it is time that we leave these generalities, and enter upon a particular analysis of the contents of the volume. The introduction is a recital of the circumstances under which the manuscripts of Mr. Thorndale were discovered and committed to the hands of the editor. It affords the opportunity of describing the scene that opens before the eye of the occupant of the Villa Scarpa-thus painting to the eye of the reader the scenery of the place to which Thorndale had retired to die, and which, from the world of actual life before him, suggests and directs the course of his meditations, as he ponders on the world that lives in his memory.

"It is a spot, one would say, in which it would be very hard to part with this divine faculty of thought. It seems made for the very spirit of meditation. The little platform on which the villa stands is so situated, that, while it commands the most extensive prospect imaginable, it is itself entirely sheltered from observation. No house of any kind overlooks it; from no road is it visible; not a sound from the neighboring city ascends to it. From one part of the parapet that bounds the terrace, you may sometimes catch sight of a swarthy bare-legged

fisherman, sauntering on the beach, or lying at full length in the sun. It is the only specimen of humanity you are likely to behold; you live solely in the eye of nature. It is with difficulty you can believe that, within the space of an hour, you may, if you choose it, be elbowing your way, jostled and stunned, amongst the swarming population of Naples,-surely the noisiest hive of human beings anywhere to be found on the face of the earth. Here, on these hights, is perfect stillness, with perfect beauty. What voices come to you from the upper air, -the winds and the melody of birds; and not unfrequently the graceful seagull utters its short plaintive cry, as it wheels round and back to its own ocean fields. And then that glorious silent picture for ever open to the eye!—Picture! you hastily retract the word. It is no dead picture,—it is the living spirit of the universe manifesting itself, in glorious vision, to the eye and the soul of man." (pp. 2, 3. We quote from the American reprint.)

Book First is entitled the Last Retreat. In this are various fragments of thought arranged under several heads, as the SelfReview, Truisms, Fragments on the sentiment of Beauty, The Two Futurities-The Future Life-The Future Society. All these together form a sort of prelude or overture to the discussions which follow, suggesting the inspiriting themes and anticipating the grave conclusions. Some of these are very striking, and at once arouse and reward attention. Though given as fragments, the selection and arrangement of them expresses exquisite artistic skill. For example, under Self-Review we have the following:

"I am here upon classic ground-surrounded, as they say, by classical associations;-a Sibyl's cave-the tomb of Virgil—the baths of one emperor, the palace of another. Very slight and transitory, and mere affairs of yesterday, seem these grave antiquities to me. Such classical associations have ceased to affect me; they have fallen off from the scene. I see only this beautiful nature-I meditate only upon man. Rome and the Cæsars are a little matter; God, and Nature, and Humanity—on these I think incessantly. . .

"I seem now to be standing on that little hillock of loosened mould which the sexton throws up on the side of the last home which he digs for us. I feel the earth crumbling beneath my feet; it gives way, and falls into the dark chasm below. Yet whilst I stand, I still look out upon the wide horizon of this earth, and speculate-I cannot help it-upon that dawn of a happier and wiser life which surely will one day rise upon our world. Would that I catch the glimmering of that dawn! Alas! I know not here which even is the eastern gate, or in what quarter of the horizon to look for the breaking of this better day-this 'other morn' which shall rise on mid-noon.'" (pp. 15, 16.)

"Why should I wish to live? Have I not seen, and felt, and thought, as I could never again see, or feel, or think? Why desire old age, which is but the same world, with dimness and a film drawn over the vision of the man? Better lapse at once from youth into oblivion.

"What there is of brief and fitful enchantment in this life of man, I too have partly known. I have heard music; I have seen mountains; I have looked on the sea, and clouds, and flowing rivers, and the beauty of woman. I have loved; vainly or foolishly, I still have loved. I have known, too, that other enchantment, second only to it,-that early dawn of meditative thought, when the stars of heaven are still seen in the faint fresh light of the morning; afterwards there is more light upon the earth, but there is no star; and we wait till the dark comes down upon us, before we see the heavens again.

"I have given my heart to the poets; I have listened eagerly to whatever great truth Science has revealed; I have trod the paths of philosophy, till I found them interlacing each other, and leading back to my own footmarks in the sand. I have had earnest thoughts and generous emotions. If I were to live for centuries, centuries would only bring me these in their decay and degeneracy. What but the withered leaf of summer has the winter to bestow?" (p. 23.)

Under Truisms, we find the chief principles which constitute Thorndale's creed:

"I do not find that my heart beats quicker now than at former times at this great question. Nor, alas! do I find, as some have deemed, that there are any truths which become more vivid and distinct as we descend that dark avenue which conducts us to the tomb.

"Yes! yes! there are truths which become more vivid and distinct as we enter this dark avenue which conducts us to the tomb; but it is on looking back that we discover them. They are the truths we have passed by, and lived amongst truths of that common daylight we are quitting-so familiar, we called them truisms-truths which the child lisps, and the youth kindles at, and only the too busy man forgets.

"That there is sympathy and love in the heart of man, and that thus his very self, his very personal desires, at once embrace the good of others as well as his own-what a truth is this! That man looks before and after, and discriminates, and compares the good and evil he has endured, and can thus choose his way, and can choose for others also; and that the bond of human fellowship, rule and custom, and the voice of all heard by each, adds to the reasonable choice of the Good, the stable sentiment of Duty, or rather the two blend together in one indissoluble union-what a truth is this! That the broken and partial picture of the world which the senses reflect, grows gradually in the human reason, into order and unity, and amplifies into what we call science, till in the consciousness of man, what at first was the 'fair imperfection' of the senses, shapes itself into the divine idea, the manifested thought of God-is not this, too, a great truth? And all along there is beauty, visibly brightening over the whole creation, compelling the heart of man to love, where as yet he cannot comprehend, the Creator. To embrace the good of others—of a whole society; to apprehend the world in its divine unity,-to feel how beautiful it is!-the Good, the True, the Beautiful, as some catalogue them-here are three gifts, than which could God give greater to his creature?" (pp. 25, 26.)

The Two Futurities furnish these following passages:

"Stand aside from the crowd, and look on-have no other business than to