give them their proper relief. While in Spinoza's system they are obscured by the shade thrown over them by surrounding errors, and distorted by the false position in which they are found and the inadequate exhibition which they receive. The writer has given about twenty pages of partially coincident matter; or from eight to ten from Swedenborg, and about the same amount from Spinoza. But we could, we think, without much trouble, exhibit a far greater amount of teaching coincident with Swedenborg from the writings of Zoroaster, or of Plato, or of Schelling, or perhaps even of Cudworth and Coleridge. But what does all this prove? That Swedenborg borrowed his system from them, or that the modern ones did from him? Not at all. But that all great minds, while traversing certain regions of thought, see many of the more obvious truths alike. And they thus afford a mutual corroboration of each other. Because we perceive such similarity between distant thinkers on certain points, we do not therefrom discredit both; but on the contrary have additional testimony that on such points both are true. The writer seems to express great surprise, that while Swedenborg is looked upon as an inspired man, Spinoza was regarded as an infidel, while holding very similar views. But this is a very superficial view of the matter on every side of presentation. First, because Spiñoza was not called an infidel for teaching the views generally set forth in the extracts in this pamphlet, but for denying the general doctrines of Revelation, and the inspiration of the sacred Scriptures. Now Swedenborg on the contrary did not deny these, but made it the prime object of his mission to set forth, elucidate, and enforce them; and therein has been very properly discriminated from such teachers as Spinoza.

Secondly, the appellation infidel was applied to Spinoza by Catholic and orthodox theologians of his day; and the same class of men now apply the same term to Swedenborg, because he calls in question the common Calvinistic scheme of doctrines. Witness the Princeton Review, and a multitude of like writers. Any one who has paid much attention to the history of opinion has learned that the word infidel, like many other words, means very different things at different ages of the world. Now the difference between Spinoza and Swedenborg on the nature and attributes of God is a very simple and definite one, and easy to be understood, and is the same which exists between the God of revelation and the God of the pantheists the world over. They differed in this, that while Spinoza sunk the being and substance of God into an identity with the innermost essence of nature, and made nature the de facto presentation of God himself, as he unrolled himself phenomenally to view, Swedenborg ascribes to him a separate and independent personal existence, above and out of nature, capable of rolling out into space an infinite number of "natures," or natural universes, without exhausting the fountain of being.

They approached each other in this, that while, as we have seen, Spinoza saw God every where in nature in actual presence, Swedenborg also teaches the universal immanence of the Spirit of God in all things of the universe, and hence that God is every where expressed in nature. And this last is a very different idea from the one

current in the time of Spinoza, that God had made the universe at first endowed with certain mechanical properties, and winding it up something like a clock, had left it to run by itself until it should run down, and the end of the world come. Through the system of Swedenborg we are enabled to perceive the truth there is in pantheism, and to guard ourselves against its errors.

One of the "identities," spoken of in the pamphlet, is the three kinds of knowledge spoken of alike by Spinoza and Swedenborg. These are the three forms of our knowing faculty, and are recognized not only by Swedenborg and Spinoza, but also by every metaphysician of any repute from Kant to Cousin. They are the three forms of the human understanding which have been defined with more or less accuracy by almost every respectable system which has made its appearance-namely, the sense-perceptions, the logical consciousness, and the intuitions of the reason. These are very clear distinctions, which have been recognized by nearly all profound thinkers. the natural inference from this we think is, that Swedenborg, having built upon ground so universally admitted, must have been on a very safe foundation, and the circumstance is calculated to inspire the greater confidence in his superstructure.

And

The instances of alleged identity, cited in the pages before us, are of course too numerous to be followed in detail; but many, if not most of them, do not exhibit anything more than a remote likeness to each other. Thus on page 14, instance No. XI., we have Swedenborg. "Jehovah God is esse in itself *** beginning and end, &c., from eternity to eternity."-T. R. C., page 17. Spinoza-"Substance is that which is in itself, and is conceived by itself." Ethics, part I., def. 3. And "Whatever is is in God."-Prop. 15, and "God is eternal."--Prop. 19.

Here we see that the author has brought together detached scraps from different portions of a work, in order to force an appearance of similarity; and after all, what especial identity is there? "God is eternal." Who denies that, or who claims the idea as original with himself? Why does not some one say that Swedenborg copied this from Isaiah or Paul? ·

Again, the next "instance," No. XII. Swedenborg-"The unity of God is intimately inscribed on the mind of man."-T. C. R., page 20. Spinoza-" The human mind has an adequate knowledge of the eternal and infinite nature of God."--Ethics, part II., prop. 47.

In our view the two writers are here referring to two very distinct thoughts; so distinct in fact, that while one proposition might be affirmed as true, the other might, without inconsistency, be denied, unless its wording were somewhat modified. We think the work, if intended to lead to the inference that Swedenborg borrowed any material portion of his system from Spinoza, a total failure. But we are by no means certain that the author had this intent in view; nor are we warranted, from anything which occurs in his pages, to suppose that he wilfully labors to throw an unjust discredit upon any truth which may be contained in Swedenborg's system. If, however, this was the object, it can have that effect only to a very limited extent; and that among those only who do not take sufficient time to con

sider what the charges do in reality amount to. That great similarities exist between Swedenborg and a great many other writers, both ancient and modern, cannot certainly be a new thing to any well read Newchurchman.

Have we not seen within these few months, one of our most able reviewers tracing the system of Immanuel Kant to that of Swedenborg, and charging the great German with having copied or derived his chief fundamental ideas from the pages of the illumined Swede? So others find wonderful coincidences between Swedenborg's views and many things found in Plato, Leibnitz, Des Cartes, La Place, Huggins, Schelling, Jacob Behmen, &c., &c., and so far from denying this, the New Church has usually been very ready to affirm it. And what kind of inference is most naturally to be drawn from this marked and acknowledged similarity on some points in Swedenborg and some points in almost every great system which has exercised an influence upon human thought from the days of Confucius to the times of Coleridge, Jacobi, and Schleiermacher? We suppose that there are very numerous and often very great approaches made to some one or the other of the various parts of the New Church system in every great system which has ever succeeded to gain any prominent and continued sanction from the mind of the human race, from the first publication of the Zendavesta down to the issue of Sir William Hamilton's edition of Reid. And we are in the habit of accounting for it in this way; namely, that, Swedenborg's system is a system of Truth; and all those original and profound thinkers who have shed the light of their wisdom over the progress of the race, have enjoyed, in their measure, views of truth, and have consequently given utterance to a greater or less amount of correct thought. And in so far as they have done this they have of course approached Swedenborg; and in so far as they have not done this, but have given utterance to error, they have receded from Swedenborg, and disagree with him. This seems to us a very simple and satisfactory theory, and one which thoroughly harmonizes all the facts of the case. If any person has one to offer which he thinks performs the office better, we shall . be very ready to hear it and to examine it.

While we very readily perceive the various approaches which a multitude of authors make towards certain portions of our system, we also think we clearly perceive a great many points, and those relating to subjects of vast moment, in which no kind of similarity exists between him and any other writer. While so many writers, ancient and modern, exhibit, what may be called, patches of Swedenborgianism, here and there, the system of Swedenborg contains all the essential truth which the other systems contain, and in fuller degree than they express it, and at the same time contains vast tracts of stupendous disclosure, lying beyond their field of vision altogether, upon which no other writer has anything to say. For our own part, and we suppose we express the general sentiment of the New Church in this matter, when we say that any one will show us a system of doctrines containing more truth than the one we now advocate, we will readily join them in going over to it.

W. B. H.

ARTICLE V.

SINGULAR PHASE OF SOUL-EXPERIENCE.

(From the Letters of Lavater).

MR. EDITOR,--The following extract from one of the letters of Lavater will probably be new to most of your readers. It illustrates very well the distinctness of spiritual from natural thought, the great superiority of the former, and the impossibility of comprehending it by the latter. The dream to which it alludes has also its interest.

"There comes over me very often, I might almost say daily, or at least whenever I go to sleep with some collectedness of thoughta singular state. At the moment of beginning to slumber, an extraordinary and indescribable serenity diffuses itself over my soul, which, while it lasts, is in a state of the purest moral or intellectual activity -an activity that is so regular, and at the same time so unspeakably serene, that it is not only quite distinct from every thing that could be called dreaming, but immeasurably excels the most lively representations in the waking state of the body. This state, which in its effect is either exceedingly elevating or exceedingly depressing to me, seldom lasts more than a second, although innumerable distinct ideas, as well of the moral as of the metaphysical kind, pour in upon me. There always succeeds a sudden, convulsive agitation, which wakes me. That this state does not continue longer, at the utmost, than a second, I know from several circumstances. I hear, or see, for example, immediately before falling into slumber, that the light is on the point of being extinguished, and have been several times awakened in the way I have mentioned before the light was yet put out, or the snuffers fully closed upon it. It is out of my power, immediately on awaking, to call back a single particular idea or sentiment. I can remember, for a few moments, in a vague and obscure manner, with what subjects my understanding or my moral feelings have been occupied; but even this obscure recollection departs entirely when I endeavor to make it more distinct. There remains . nothing but the pleasant or unpleasant impression which this state has made, on the whole, upon my mind, and this usually continues almost the whole of the following day. During this condition of serenity I have not the least clear recollection of my waking state; no forms of men or of visible corporeal things surround me. I feel myself, in fact, in a new kind of existence, of which I can as little conceive, in the waking state, as one born blind can of colors. Judg. ing from my feelings, I am in the invisible and eternal world. My faults in general, and in the abstract, cause me unspeakable pain; that is to say, I feel a horror at myself, so far as I am conscious of having contravened the order of God, whom, at this time, I feel to be my Creator, and the wisest and kindest of beings, with a liveliness, which, from my waking ideas, I should scarcely venture to expect from an immediate intuition of the Godhead. Equally inexpressible is the rapture which pervades me, when I find myself in a state so morally

good, that I can yield myself unreservedly to these brilliant thoughts of God, and of the moral perfection of Christ. I am not able to remember a single good action in particular, but I feel thus much at first obscurely, that this moral serenity is the result of all previous good endeavors. I remember my friends also, at times, in this state, whom, however, I cannot represent to myself under any form, and am sensible of an unspeakable longing that I could describe to them a situation which passes all description.

"I have related to you honestly the observations I have made in my own case, and will now add to them, as affording some ground of conjecture concerning the state of the soul after death, the remarkable dream which you yourself, my dear Zimmerman, had in Nov. 1765. A faithful narrative of this kind, from a man who is such a sworn foe to all superstition, and who despises every thing that makes the most distant approach to enthusiasm, is of great value. This dream serves my purpose in a double point of view-first, because it may be regarded as in general the effect of a peculiar state of the soul, which perhaps resembles its state after the death of the body; and secondly, because is contains some very probable ideas of the state of the soul after death. You saw your wife, of whom it was told you that she was dead, in a delicate, ethereal form, wearing her usual lovely expression of modesty and gentleness, though mingled with a seri ousness that excited something of surprise. She approached you with an indescribably charming dignity, and told you that she had experienced things which no one could ever have imagined; that her faculties had been vastly elevated and enlarged; that she looked through the past in all its causes and effects; that each present moment was to her a sea of ideas, though the future was still somewhat obscure; that she was exceedingly happy, but not entirely so; that the whole of the life she had passed on earth was ever before her mind; that every thought and every feeling that did not lead directly whither her wishes were now directed, was now a sin to her and a torment; that she felt a kind of palsy when she looked at the way to heaven; that she was exceedingly happy because God had greatly exalted her, but that still she was not perfectly at rest; that she knew all that went on in the hearts of the persons she had known in the world-all that went on with those whom she saw on the threshold of heaven, without their telling it to her, for that they never spoke, since they were all contemplation, and yet that they all understood one another; that the end of the days had not yet come; that she dwelt among millions of souls in regions of serenity, peace, and contemplation, but that she was not yet in heaven, for that God had not yet executed judgment; that bright clouds still for a time covered this blessed place from her eyes; thither, thither,' she added, 'you should endeavor to come.' You told me further that you put a number of important questions to your wife, which she answered in such a way that you saw clearly what the greatest intellect among mortals would never be capable of seeing, even in the remotest degree, but that you waked up, in the act of writing down these things, and found that, with the utmost exertion of your memory, von