doctrine in question, not as substantiated by any process of reasoning, for this he expressly disclaims, but as an assumption, a postulate, a proposition which men must believe, though they can show no reason for it. At this point, the theory was taken up by a zealous disciple, and carried forward to the criticism of revealed religion on the same principles, which had settled so satisfactorily the claims of Natural Theology.

Fichte's "Critique of all Revelation " was only the anticipation of a work subsequently performed by Kant himself; the same results, substantially, being obtained, that were afterwards developed in Kant's treatise, entitled "Religion within the Limits of mere Reason." Fichte proposed to establish a "Critique," that is, a fundamental examination on the principles of the Critical, or Transcendental, philosophy, not of that revelation in which Christians are specially interested, nor of any other in particular, but of all possible revelations. In other words, supposing the existence of a God, and of a race of beings constituted and situated as we are, he proposes to determine whether it be possible, that he should make a special communication to his creatures, and, if so, in what way it is possible. The inquiry is to be carried on, not as a mere speculation, but like a piece of mathematical reasoning, and the results, if any are obtained, are to be as little susceptible of doubt, as any theorem in Euclid.

And what are the results, at which the inquirer arrives in this bold attempt to settle the bounds of human belief, and prescribe laws to Omnipotence, as to the manner in which he shall make known his will to mankind? Why, that any revelation is unnecessary and impossible, at least, that it can never be recognised as such, though we may wish to believe in it; that the revealed doctrine can make no addition to our knowledge or our hopes; that, if it contains any thing more than the law written in our own hearts, it cannot be of divine origin; and, if it be perfectly coincident with that law, it is useless, and can in no proper sense be called a revelation; that, although the conception of a miracle is possible, a miraculous event can never be known as such, from the want of a sufficient test ; — and that a revelation by means of such events could not be addressed to any persons but those who had lost even the desire to comply with the demands of conscience, and its usefulness even to them would cease,

when the moral sense was once awakened. Such is the result of a system of philosophy, that sets up the entire supremacy of the "a priori conceptions of pure reason," and of demonstrative reasoning founded upon them, thus erecting a metaphysical tribunal, before which all faith in God, in the Scriptures, in any revelation, is to be brought for trial, to be modified or rejected at will. The sophism in respect to revealed religion is precisely the same with that which we have attempted to expose in the province of Natural Theology. Beginning with the assumption, that moral evidence in such a case is wholly unsatisfactory and deceptive; and, seeking for demonstration where, from the nature of the case and the laws of the human mind, it cannot be obtained, they find it not, and consequently declare, that man's faith is vain, and all religious belief, properly so called, is a mere delusion. Of course, a revelation attested by miracles is an external fact, and must be proved, if at all, by testimony and experience. But these are sources only of moral reasoning; and, as such a proof, even when carried to the highest extent, is declared to be insufficient to establish the belief in a God, so it cannot confirm our faith in a revelation of God to men. In the latter case, unfortunately, demonstration is admitted on all hands to be impossible, and, therefore, nothing remains but to renounce our faith in revelation altogether.

This is but a single specimen of the arrogant manner in which the claims of religious faith are treated by those writers, who assume that all theology is but a province of philosophy, but one speculation among many others, all of which must be brought to their tribunal, and judged by the standard of their metaphysical theory. In the flood of philosophical systems in Germany, the publication of which followed the daring innovations of Kant, many other examples might be found of an equally summary and destructive treatment of the doctrines both of natural and revealed religion. The infidel movement in that country, hardly second in extent and importance to that which the Encyclopedists commenced in France, if it did not take its rise among the philosophers, certainly borrowed from them its arms, its general aspect, and its influence. The infidel publications are saturated with the terminology, the forms, and the doctrines of the modern. schools of metaphysics, to an extent that makes them hardly - No. 115.

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intelligible to one, who has not a previous knowledge of this new philosophical jargon.

We know that an attempt is made, to trace the commencement of these infidel speculations in Germany, beyond the philosophers of that country, to the influence of the English deists, as they are termed, to the writings of Collins, Tindal, Chubb, and Morgan. Those who can find in the speculations referred to, any of the characteristics of the English tone of thought, any traces of similarity in argument and doctrine between the two classes of writers, must be gifted with greater powers of perception than are usual, or, what is far more likely, with a predisposition to find or see nothing to the prejudice of German metaphysics. The purpose of such a strange assertion, is to trace the root of the evil, not to its home among those modern speculations in which it took its rise and its peculiar aspect, but to another country, and to a class of unbelievers, whose errors may with some show of reason be attributed to the philosophy of Locke. It is the singular fate of this last-mentioned philosopher, whose writings, more than any others of the class to which they belong, are pervaded with the Christian spirit, and devoted to a defence of the Christian faith, to be made accountable for nearly all the speculative errors and infidel opinions, which have been broached since his time. It is not enough, that the skepticism of Hume, and the sensualism of Condillac are laid to his charge, but he must be made accountable also, by implication at least, for the extravaganzas of a set of German infidels in our own day; though it would be difficult to find a stronger contrast, in point of thought, expression, and doctrine, than that which exists between their speculations and the writings of the father of English philosophy. The idle calumny, which imputes to him the origin of the debasing theory, entertained by the French sensual school of the last century, has been refuted a hundred times, and deserves no further notice. Even the assertion, that Hume borrowed his principles from Locke, if understood to mean that the philosophy of the latter especially favors the skepticism of the former, or leads to it by necessary implication, so that Hume became an infidel only because he studied Locke, and not in spite of such study, is wholly untrue. The subtile and wary skeptic, whose enterprise was not to build, but to destroy, who intended to con

fute the philosophers on their own ground, founded his reasonings on what was the popular philosophy of his day. He borrowed his principles from the "Essay on the Human Understanding," just as he would have borrowed them, if he had lived in our times, from the speculations of Kant and Cousin. A skeptic by nature and temperament, and not by education or by consequence of opinions imbibed from others, his writings were intended to be, not a continuation or a developement of Locke's philosophy, but a refutation of it. He was not half so much indebted to his English predecessor, as Spinoza was to Descartes; but who thinks of charging upon the father of French philosophy the atheism or pantheism of the infidel Jew?

But we protest against mingling the doctrines of theology with any metaphysical speculations, against identifying the cause of religious truth with the defence of any human system. It matters not whether Locke or Descartes, Spinoza or Kant, Cousin or Schelling, be the individual selected, through whose theories we are to attack, defend, or modify man's faith in things which are not of this world. The mixture is of two incongruous things, and nothing can result from it but a bastard compound, which will have all the defects, but none of the excellences, of either ingredient. In calling for a separation, nothing more is claimed for theology, than is granted by universal consent to the other sciences. Why is the theologian only to be followed with the constant accusation of being deluded by the sensual system, when he simply opens his eyes upon the universe around him, and reasons upon the information afforded by the senses? Why not accuse the naturalist, the astronomer, the artist of the same thing? These provinces of science are kept as distinct as possible from theory and pure speculation, and are made to consist of observed facts, and immediate deductions from those facts. Metaphysical systems are contrived from time. to time, with a view to cover the whole field of knowledge; but the authors of them do not attempt directly to change the methods, modify the principles, or do away with the results of the inductive sciences. They are known to carry with them the habits of mind peculiar to their profession,what Bacon expressly calls, "the smoke and tarnish of the furnace "; the tendency to generalize rapidly, to make sweeping innovations, to form new and entire theories, unchecked

by the presence of determinate and admitted facts, which in other branches of knowledge oppose an effectual barrier to the license of innovation and system-making. Theology has its facts, also, the most real and momentous of all. The beacon light of religious truth burns clear and steadily in its fixed and elevated position; while the ignes fatui of philosophical speculation are glancing about through brake, morass, and thicket, too often indicating the presence of miasmata from swamps, or poisonous exhalations from graveyards.

Those who talk so much of the philosophy of religion, and of the necessity that it should keep pace with the constant advancement of the human mind, either use words without any meaning attached to them, or else they confound two perfectly distinct things, religious progress in the individual soul, and the improvement of theology as a science. The former is possible to an unlimited extent. The whole of human life is a probation, the law of which is progress. But the only rational conception of Christian Theology is that of something more fixed and durable than the everlasting hills. The great truth of the being of a God, the great law of the Scriptures, lie there as standards, as ultimate points, beyond which there is no advancement, and from which there is no appeal. An individual may come to have a more perfect knowledge of the relations which connect him to the Deity; though even here the improvement is rather of the heart, than of the intellect. But there are no discoveries to be made respecting the Divine nature, in the same sense as we speak of discoveries in human science. "Who can by searching find out God? Or who can understand the Almighty to perfection?" We can take away the conception of a God, and substitute an abstract idea, or a block of wood, - it matters not which, in its place; but we cannot amend or enlarge that conception, as it exists in a mind of ordinary powers and cultivation. There is no progress possible beyond monotheism, just as there was a progress from Fetichism to polytheism, and from that to the true doctrine of one God.

In like manner, the Scriptures form an ultimate tribunal in Christian Theology. Questions about their interpretation may arise, but the sense, when ascertained, is admitted to be absolute and decisive. Some persons may reject their authority; they may make the same discovery as Tindal, the English Deist, that Christianity is "as old as the creation.'