Connected with this point, the author has a chapter on the relations of the soul to the body, in which he displays, as everywhere else, a great degree of shrewd analysis and extensive examination of theories, rather than a broad and deep power of deduction. Some of his speculations on this topic are exceedingly ingenious and plausible. His discussions also exhibit considerable learning, without much solidity or balance of scholarship. His conclusion is a singular form of materialism-a system which he formally discards and denounces. He regards the body as the "externalization" of the soul, its outward development, and requisite to its complete subsistence; so that it is only necessary for the Almighty utterly and forever to blot the body out of being, in order effectually to extinguish the soul, for all the intents and purposes of existence. Why, then, he is compelled to ask, at the close, why are the unjust also to experience a resurrection of the body, seeing they are immediately to be destroyed altogether? The question is certainly very natural. The author disposes of the seeming difficulty of this useless miracle, amounting, under the circumstances, to a wanton act of tantalization, after his own fashion. He finds its analogy in the death of damaged seeds by the spontaneous effort of germination! as if there were any basis here for a comparison involving a moral issue. To come to a more direct vindication, he thinks that the redemption procured by Christ may avail so far, even to the unbelieving, as to quicken their souls and thereby their bodies into a temporary life. "Even bad men in Christendom are familiar with moral sentiments, great truths of humanity, which the heathenish intellect has not conceived. May not such truths, as food to the souls even of those who do not cleave to him who is the Truth and the Life, cause death itself to be divided, as the proper effect and token of redemption?" Sheer transcendentalism. We look for a more positive and Divine cause of the resurrection, whether of the just or unjust; and we demand a more consistent and worthy purpose for it too. If the body is not to be the vehicle of more perfect bliss or misery, we must regard its resuscitation as nugatory; if it is only raised that it may be at once destroyed, we can only conceive of the act as one of solemn trifling.

The author devotes two long chapters to "the historical argument" for his theory, in which he boldly attempts to show that it has been substantially held by the wisest, best, and most reliable, not only among ancient philosophers, but even of the early Church fathers; and that it was distinctly repudiated by none, unless by the Pharisees and similar errorists. Now, if it were worth while, we would be tempted to undertake a defense of these maligned Phari

sees, inasmuch as, for aught that appears to the contrary, their doctrines were generally correct; it was their practice which the Saviour so often condemned. But we should scarcely have been prepared for so hardy an attempt on the part of our author, as that of deriving confirmation of his theory from other than very dubious ancient writers, whether Christian or otherwise, did we not know that precisely the same claim has been advanced, and maintained with more or less plausibility and learned array of citations, by almost every form of false doctrine in vogue in the Church. Moreover, if the annihilation of the wicked can be harmonized with the statements of Christ and his apostles-and Mr. Hudson, as we have seen, contends for no less than this-it matters little what other authorities may or may not be in favor of it. We therefore turn over this whole elaborate portion of his book to others more competent or disposed to sift it; believing, for our own part, that scarcely any doctrine is so absurd that it might not derive some support from heathen philosophers and even Church fathers. We say this without designing to disparage the author's laborious researches into the history of the subject, which really appear to have been quite extensive, or meaning to reflect upon the value of such references to earlier opinions on controversial subjects in general; but simply to show the unreliable character of conclusions drawn from such investigations when pursued for a partisan purpose, or to bolster up a favorite system.

The remaining chapters of the book are occupied with several collateral and consequential considerations, intended to exhibit the superiority of the theory advocated in meeting the various problems and practical demands of ethics and Christianity. The space to which we have limited this article will permit us only to name the titles of these chapters, which are on "the philosophy of error," "the harmony of Christian doctrine," "the paradoxes of penalty," "the missionary spirit," and "the highest good." They include numerous subordinate topics of much interest, and their discussion gives completeness and symmetry to the main views advanced throughout the volume. Taken as a whole, it is by far the most complete treatise of its kind that we have met with, and we should not be surprised to find its positions extensively adopted by the adherents of that shifting system of belief termed Universalism, with which it exhibits many striking features of brotherhood.

In concluding these remarks, we observe that the odium of Dualism cast by the author upon the doctrine of endless evil in the person of the lost, is not just. The imputation would be correct only in case evil were represented as an original self-producing principle,

independent of the Creator. But here it is the offspring of one of his creatures, and therefore the product of an arrangement which, for certain unknown reasons, he has himself permitted. It is in the same sense that the prophet Isaiah, in refutation of this very reprobated doctrine of Dualism as held by the Persians, whom he represents by Cyrus, says of Jehovah that "he creates light and darkness, good and evil." Now, to our mind, there is no greater intrinsic difficulty in admitting the perpetual existence of evil, in this permitted (or indeed in any) form, than in its temporary continuance. It is always and utterly abhorrent to the Divine nature, and if he can allow it for a moment, why not for a long time, or forever, if he see fit? That he has seen fit to permit its existence and introduction among angels and men, is certain; why, we cannot, at present, perhaps we shall never discover. The author quotes with approbation Neander's sentiment, that sin is per se unaccountable, abnormal; and that if any final cause could be assigned for it, it would that moment cease to be sin, because it would become reasonable. A similar remark might be made of its continuance; at least we may say that our faculties are equally incompetent to comprehend the Divine method of adjusting its perpetuity to his economy. Now in advance, were we as uncertain of the fact of sin, as we now are of its future being, we should doubtless deem the idea equally incompatible with the Divine attributes; but we are sure that sin does exist; the most hardy rationalist cannot deny the stubborn palpable fact; and this should teach mankind humility and caution in pronouncing upon the reasonableness of its endless continuance. Were we at liberty to construct our own theology, and frame the universe according to it, we should doubtless fashion it very differently from the actual about us, and we might pride ourselves greatly upon our skill; but a wiser, because a broader induction would teach us to prefer the scheme which God has effected, whatever difficulties may appear for the present to beset it. The immortal work of Butler has long ago effectually met, on analogical grounds, the central difficulty that has driven our author into the theory of the final destruction of the wicked. The present treatise is calculated to take a strong hold of the Christian mind, not only from its plausibility, but especially from the general and deep-seated feeling of reluctance felt in the pious heart to realize the everlasting misery of so many fellow-beings, perhaps among them several intimate friends or dear relatives. But this tenderness may be misplaced, and should rather be called an amiable weakness than a holy sympathy. Do we love our nearest kindred better than God who made us all, or Christ who died for them as well as for us? Let us remember He is to be the

final Judge, and will award exact justice. Could we behold and realize sin in its full turpitude, so far from pitying it, we should be unable to look upon it otherwise than with horror. The revelations of the last day will no doubt clear up whatever of mystery now envelops this awful subject; and vindicate the Divine severity, even in the eyes of those who shall be its hapless victims.

ART. VI.-BÉRANGER.

Euvres Complètes de Béranger. Paris: 1857.

"A MAN may be sair mistaen about mony things," says the Ettrick Shepherd, "such as yepics, and tragedies, and tales, and even lang-set elegies about the death o' great public characters, and hymns, and odds, and the like, but he canna be mistaen about a sang." It has been customary in most of the monarchical governments of continental Europe, to teach all young noblemen, and even every one who lays any claim to gentle blood, to spurn Béranger's songs, so long had the old minstrel been tuning his harp to republican strains. Monarchs have by no means been the last to learn the power of song, and a loyal policeman is never more on duty than when he hears at dead of night the distant sound of some chorus, which the royal band has never been known to perform in the public promenade. Poor Béranger never wished any man put in prison on his account, if for no other reason than that he knew what it was to live on prison fare; but no doubt some of his stirring songs have done what he has often wept over, and no living man can divine a tithe of their destiny. Old Homer little thought that those legends which he sang as he wandered through the towns of Asia Minor, would be at once the most glorious legacy of his language to the world, and the pride of many a succeeding people. The Marseillaise may lead more republican Frenchmen to victory than it has done, and the future biographer of "Yankee Doodle" may have more to say of it than that it figured largely, in its own wonder-working way, on Bunker Hill and on the plains of Mexico.

Pierre-Jean de Béranger was born at Paris, August 17, 1780. His mother and father separated, à la Française, a short time after their marriage, and his paternal grandfather took charge of him until he was nine years old. He was then sent to Peronne, under the

care of an aunt who lived there and kept an inn. She sent him to school, a Republican one too, and the old lady was sorry enough when she heard that her little nephew could make a better revolutionary speech than any other boy in school. She was a Catholic and loved her king, both of which facts made it the darkest day she ever groped through when the Revolution closed the church doors in Péronne. One day at this early age he was found reading one of the most pernicious of Voltaire's books, and when the name of Voltaire is mentioned it summons to our sight that host of harpies which infected so many innocent hearts in France with the poison of infidelity at the close of the last century, and which made the nation what it now is, the offspring of Catholicism, Voltaire-atheism, and Rousseau-socialism. There can be no doubt that the books of the arch-atheist exerted great influence on Béranger's mind in his early life; and what is saddest of all, that influence is still in force.

From the school Béranger went into a printing-office, and while an apprentice there he composed an edition of André Chénier Here he showed his talent for poetry. His employer became interested in him, and taught him the principles of prosody, with other higher branches of the French language. It was the kindness of that publisher which first made him feel that he was a poet. His muse began to show him the most dazzling visions of a great name. In fact, his whole future life was one gilded romance. Alas for the dreams of youth! but what would ninety-nine hundreths of the great men ever have done without them? Carlyle says it is the true mark of a genius (we forget the exact phraseology) that he does not know his greatness. Admit it sometimes, but not in Béranger's case. Every action of his at this period of his life proves that he knew and felt his innate power. He could not rest until he was back in Paris, where his hand and heart might do something for Republicanism. Soon we find him there railing at the extravagant manners and effeminacy of the Directory in the "Hermaphrodites." The story was no exaggeration. He had told the bold, simple truth, and for that reason the piece never saw the light on the French stage. The love of truth was one of the strongest instincts of his nature, and he despised with a cordial hatred that extravagance and luxury which made France bleed at that day-and not much less so at this-from every pore.

Imagine him now a young man, with his hands tied by the restrictions of the police and real grinding poverty. A sudden change in the king's favor had left his father without a franc, although that father was a cringer and a courtier. The young poet loved Paris. It was his first home, and the wool cockades of 1789-the Republi