but in circumstances there is a mighty alteration. Fichte, importunately insisting that a party, which we take to be that of evangelical Christianity, expects a sensuous heaven, points in triumph to the fact that the eye is by it turned to futurity when there can be but an objective change; while all that is subjective in heaven's bliss must be enjoyed now or never. The philosopher is doubly at fault: to represent sublunary delights as filling, even to the most joyful, for any considerable time, the immeasurable capacity of joy possessed by man, can be considered merely as a flourish of philosophic poetry; while, had he for a moment reflected, he must have considered it but fair to concede to those against whom he argued, that object and subject are so closely connected, that we must almost conceive ourselves beyond the bounds of finitude ere we can conceive their mutual independence. It is true that the difference between the inheritance of the saints on earth and their inheritance in light, is one of circumstances; it is true, too, that sorrow as well as fear in the Christian bosom is the sign or the result of sin, and that the more faith now drinks of the cup of joy, the more does it obey divine injunction; yet we should deem it mournful indeed, if the Gospel did not point the eye of hope to some great outbreaking of light, as to mark a certain stage in the Christian's history. And such there is; and so great is its brightness, that there is a propriety in the habit of appropriating to the ages which succeed it the special name of celestial. Those who desire to form some conception of the peculiar glory of these ages, of which we can not speak here at length, we would advise to read Butler's sublime sermon on the Love of God, to ponder it deeply, and to follow out its suggestive meaning. Butler there aims at indicating the exhaustless sources of joy which would be found in the contemplation of the divine nature. We can here offer only one or two themes of meditation, supplementary to this central consideration. Let it then be thought what a power there is toward the impeding and shadowing of happiness, in the very fact that this is a world of prevailing sin. We fight here under the cloud: we can have little hope that we will hear the final shout of victory. And as we go to each charge, do we not see around us the fallen and the dying? Are we not aware that over the whole earth there is always sorrow, and have we not to dim the eye of imagination, and close the gates of sympathy, that we cry not out at the spectacles of grief which are ever, in woeful pageantry, passing onward toward the grave? How true is this of Mrs. Browning's! "The fool hath said there is no God, But none, there is no sorrow." Every human heart must throb to that touch of beautiful pathos, in which the author of Festus bodies forth the depth and earnestness of human woe. Among the celestial bands an angel is seen in tears; a word of amazement passes along at the sight of an angel weeping; but the wonder is soon explained. "It is the angel of the earth, She is always weeping." While our step is on such a world as earth, we must know the thrills of sympathetic anguish. Surely it will be an unmeasured access of joy when the cloud of sin, smitten by the light of eternity, finally rolls away, and bares the sunless heavens. Consider, again, the joy that may arise in the heavenly ages from the contemplation of the works of God. Even here it can not be questioned that serene and exquisite enjoyment is obtained by pure and elevated minds in gazing on the greatness and beauty of nature. But the mind now may be compared to a mountain lake, in which, indeed, at times, the silent and beautiful hills, and the calm flowers, and forest foliage, and the clouds touched by the finger of morn or eve, may glass themselves, but which is ever and anon ruffled and obscured by the rude tempest. And who can tell how far this enjoyment may be enhanced, when the sympathies are all true and harmonious, and vibrating to the music of love? What mortal man can guess the rapture which fills the eyes of the seraphim as they sweep onward among the stars of God! Lastly, not to multiply instances, can we not even now perceive, that from Christian friendship, as it would exist in heaven, there would result an exhaustless and unutterable joy. The one complaint that noble minds have against society is, that its vast texture of forms and gradations prevents kindred hearts from uniting, thwarts the action of sympathy. Assuredly the highest terrestrial joy is that of perfect friendship; and how rare, how nearly impossible, is perfect friendship here! "Are we not form'd, as notes of music are, Yet the harmony that can result from this union in diversity is scarce to be seen on earth. It is no vague imagination, but what can be clearly deduced from Scripture and reason, and easily embraced in thought, that from the friendship of the redeemed, knit in perfect sympathy of divine love, will spring a joy which the harps of heaven will scarce have chords to voice. Such considerations as these might be multiplied indefinitely, and that with strict adherence to truth. The prospect opened up to us is sublime indeed. And if its glory admitted of enhancement, would it not arise from casting a look back upon the stricken and lowly penitent, as he lay in Christian humility, expecting all from the hand of God? Here it is, every way, as in the case of physical science; which, beginning with bare algebraic formula, climbs upward from system to system, till it is encompassed with the blaze of an inconceiv able glory, and the wing of human imagination is seen feebly fluttering far below. We close this chapter with an allusion to a passage in Fichte's Way to the Blessed Life, which has struck us as very remarkable. After confessing that neither himself nor any other philosopher had ever succeeded in elevating, by popular instruction, those who "either will not or can not study philosophy systematically, to the comprehension of its fundamental truths," he distinctly allows that "Christ's Apostles," and a succession of "very unlearned persons," have possessed this essential knowledge. He discriminates well the scientific and developed knowledge of philosophy from the life-knowledge of its fundamental truths. But, might it not have occurred to him that perhaps this strange exception might have another meaning and cause than any of which he dreamed; that philosophy had, for some special reason, failed to do what the few poor men of Judea accomplished? Might he not have conceived it possible that the Gospel of Jesus had actually some wondrous power of getting at the life? If he missed the truth, let us hold by it. We think there is a profound meaning in the following sentences of Neander, used in reference to primitive Christianity :-"It belonged, indeed, to the essence of Christianity, that while it could become all things to all men, and adapt itself to the most different and opposite circumstances of human nature, it could condescend even to wholly * * sensuous modes of comprehending divine things, in order, by the power of a divine life, working from within, gradually to spiritualize them. * In this respect, the great saying of the apostle may often have found its application, that the divine treasure was received-and for a season preserved—in earthen vessels, that the abundant power might be of God, and not of man. Let this be well pondered, and that superiority in Christianity which Fichte acknowledges over his or any other philosopher's teaching, may be explained. Coleridge spake truly when he said that philosophy was in the Pagan night as the fire-fly of the tropics, making itself visible, but not irradiating the darkness. |