so far from being contradictory, they are, ideally, correlative, and ought to unite in every christian person! And is it less evident that, when the interdependence is destroyed, and they are put forward separately, each becomes exaggerated, disguised, and distorted?-P. xiv.

And yet, it is heart-breaking to think upon it!-from the primitive times to the present hour, some infernal alchemy seems to have been at work to counteract and to defeat the affinity, which else might have kept them in a state of kindly and salutary union,-and to disengage them from each other, and so, to defraud the world of the blessed influences which might have resulted from their combination. What God had joined together, human circumstances and human passions have been labouring incessantly to put asunder. And what has been the result? First, the jealous predominance of the spirit of catholicism; by virtue of which, for many a dark and troubled century, the church was every thing, the individual comparatively nothing. Then, the grand paroxysmal movement of the sixteenth century, which nearly shattered catholicism into fragments, and left each unit, or group of units, which might be thrown up in the convulsion, to assert its own independence and sovereignty, and produced a new heaven and a new earth, in which, it was hoped, that righteousness might dwell, though the unity of the Spirit were fled, and the bond of peace broken. In this country, the triumph of the protestant principle was, eventually, seen in the temporary prostration of the monarchy and the episcopate; both of which, however, rose again from their ruins, and, to all appearance, were likely to renew their youth and vigour, like the eagle. But, alas! there speedily came down a spirit of lethargy and formalism upon the Church; and, while she was taking her ease, the spirit of protestantism, by the mouth of Wesley and of Whitfield, was heard to cry, Sleep no more! And the cry waxed gradually louder; till, at length, the catholic spirit began to shake itself from its slumbers, and to look, once again, into its charters and its muniments, and to assert its glorious inheritance. And, at this moment, loud and long is the strife between the two antagonists. But whether, to take up the figure of Mr. Coleridge,

whether Catholicism will succeed in occupying its ancient bed, or be driven still further back by the opposing land-flood; or whether-which is devoutly to be wished the two currents will be at length united, so as to carry Christianity forward in one broad stream,—is more than it would be safe to predict.-P. xv.

And, this is the way, in which half-truths are perpetually going forth into the world, each on its own wayward mission; disdaining to coalesce into that one integral truth, in which alone the power of "wholesome life" can possibly reside. Like the fabled twins of classical mythology, it would seem as if both could not be in the land of the living at one and the same time; but that, when one was in the regions above, the other must be in the realms below. A fit corrective to the sinister augury of this pagan legend, may be found in the popular faith of the mariner of those days. To him the twin-stars, when seen together in the skies, spake of serenity and peace, and prosperous navigation. When either of them was seen alone above the horizon, it was an apparition which portended nothing but tempest and shipwreck. Now,

even this fantastic superstition may, at least, suggest a lesson of wisdom unto us. Be it our prayer that neither of the two great lights, above described, may ever usurp our firmament, but that both may shine, at the same time, in mild and amicable radiance, and shed down blessed influences over the whole expanse and compass of the Church.

Of the celebrated Oxford divines, Mr. Coleridge speaks in language of the deepest reverence and admiration. But, he does not profess himself their disciple. He disclaims all sympathy with certain views and sentiments, which, whether justly or unjustly, have been imputed to those writers by their adversaries; but, with full purpose of heart, he adheres to them, so far as their principles are in harmony with the traditional doctrines of the Anglican church, as represented in her ordinances, and accredited by the great majority of her divines. This is, precisely, as it should be. For the present, at all events, we have quite enough to do to preserve and strengthen the things which yet remain unto us, and which, for a long time, seemed ready to die. If that grand point can once be secured, it will be time enough to see whether or not any thing has been lost, through error or mischance, the recovery of which may be worth the toil and peril of a conflict.

But, what of the antagonists of the Oxford Tract divinity? What of the men whose habits of thought, or, perhaps, whose hereditary prepossessions, have, unhappily, arrayed them against the high pretensions of the Church, and have almost disabled them from estimating her true position? What has Mr. Coleridge to say of these? Just what might be expected from the above exposition of his principles. He extols their simplicity of mind, their love of truth, their genial faith, the vigour of their understanding, and the intense, though partial illumination, which their labours have thrown upon the various provinces of theology. He looks, in sorrow indeed, but certainly not in anger, upon the meagerness and poverty of their filial sentiments towards our holy and gracious Mother. But, on the other hand, he contemplates, with pride and thankfulness, the treasures which they have laid up; seeing that, by faithful hearts and trusty hands, those treasures may, eventually, be converted into resources of her strength and glory.

The main purpose of Mr. Coleridge, in composing this volume, may best be stated in his own words; namely,

to reconcile the actual constitution of the church, as seen from without, with its inward and spiritual form, as cognizable in Scripture,—the forma formata with the forma formans.—P. xxv.

And, in the prosecution of this object, he begins by taking the phenomenon before him, as he finds it existing in this land; and then, by an analysis of the whole external visible apparatus, he labours to establish that it can be no other than an exponent, or manifestation, however imperfect, or however damaged, of a living principle within. He seems to contend that, when this apparatus comes to be examined, it will be found to show irresistibly, that an interior vital power must have been at work for its formation. The integument, such as it is, could never have been produced but by the internal action of the spirit which inhabits it. The incrustation,-if we may so call it,-may per

haps fail to represent adequately the grandeur and the symmetry of that which dwells beneath it; or, it may be partially blemished and debased by the mixture, or the adhesion, of inferior matters ; or, again, it may have suffered disfigurement and mutilation from the injuries of time or chance. Nevertheless, with all its imperfections and anomalies, the structure and organization are sufficient to make known the indwelling life and virtue of the system. In other words, if we rightly apprehend the author's train of thought, given the whole scheme of our catholic ordinances, and thence, all the essential realities of Christianity may be confidently inferred. Suppose, for instance, that any man could first become acquainted with his religion through the instrumentality of the catholic church alone, without any knowledge of the Scriptures,— and then were to search the Scriptures, in order to see what was taught there, he could not fail to discover in Scripture the whole substance of the Church's doctrine, as relates to faith, and discipline, and practice; though more or less, perhaps, in a seminal and rudimental form. And hence, he would naturally be led to the conclusion, that the external structure of the Church could be no other than the visible unfolding, and development of those vital and spiritual elements, which are wrapped up in the Scriptures.

In working out these views, Mr. Coleridge has much lofty speculation touching the Church, "considered potentially, as an Idea, informing and actualizing the outward presentation." What is meant by this, he confesses, may be more easily understood than defined. He tells us that he has

employed the term idea in a technical and proper sense, to denote that which is neither abstract notion nor particular phenomenon, but a living reality, recognised in and by the mind itself through its own forms, but having, nevertheless, an outward and positive existence.-P. 353.

And, accordingly

in discussing the catholicity of the English church, as compared with other ecclesiastical or simply religious bodies, we have been speaking [he says] of an idea, intending nothing else than what is involved in the most ordinary forms of speech; nothing of which a thoughtful man is not more or less distinctly conscious in his reflections, however he may be accustomed to word them.-Ibid.

And, here, he produces the words of his illustrious father, who maintained that an Idea is so far from being another word for a fancy,—a something unreal,-that it is "the most real of all realities, and, of all operative powers the most actual.” Now, we really are almost afraid to venture on pronouncing any judgment respecting the value of these transcendental meditations. We feel as if we should be undertaking to decide upon matters far beyond the reach of our thoughts. We have, indeed, endeavoured to qualify ourselves for the task, by consulting the paternal Oracle itself. But, alas ! the response has done little for us, but to make the darkness visible! We transcribe it, however, for the behoof of those whose faculties may be more subtle, or more completely trained and exercised, than our own :—

A Notion, [says S. T. Coleridge,] a Notion may be realized, and becomes a Cognition; but that which is neither a Sensation or a Perception-that which

is neither individual (i.e. a sensible Intuition) nor general (i.e. a Conception)which neither refers to outward facts, nor yet is abstracted from the FORMS of perception contained in the understanding, but which is an educt of the Imagination, actuated by the pure Reason,-to which there neither is nor can be an adequate correspondent in the world of the senses,-this, and this alone, is an IDEA.

And then comes the question,

Whether ideas are regulative only, according to Aristotle and Kant, or likewise CONSTITUTIVE, and one with the power and life of nature, according to Plato and Plotimus?

And this, we are assured, "is the highest problem of philosophy, and not part of its nomenclature."*

We repeat that we feel ourselves quite unworthy to offer any commentary on these dark sayings! Obscurity, we are told, is a word of many meanings. It may be in the subject; it may be in the author; or, it may be in the reader. We must, in all humility, plead guilty to the imputation of the last of these obscurities! We acknowledge that we are in darkness, or, at least, in twilight, touching the mystery involved in the term Idea, as contemplated by the philosophy of Coleridge. We have still to seek what it is, which " is equidistant, in its signification, from sensation, image, fact, and notion; and which is the antithesis, not the synonyme, of ïdwλov." And until the great problem, above adverted to, shall receive its solution, we apprehend that multitudes besides ourselves must also remain in darkness respecting both the nature, and the power, and the function, of this living and wonder-working reality;-whether its office be to regulate the subordinate mental agencies, or whether it be to constitute and to form them, and to give them life. We must wait, therefore, till these deep things shall have been unfolded by the promised edition of the writings of S. T. Coleridge; a labour which, we are informed, has been undertaken by a member of his family, § every way well able to do justice to "the man, and to his genius.'

We cannot, here, deny ourselves the recreation,-we hope and trust, the blameless and unreproved recreation,-of presenting to our readers the manifestly indignant, but singularly humorous, protest of the deceased philosopher against the ignominious and degrading application of this sacred word, Idea, by the men of Belial, whether of the intellectual, or the sensual class. After setting forth his own doctrine of Ideas, he proceeds thus :

The magnificent son of Cosmo was wont to discourse with Ficini, Politian, and the princely Mirandula, on the ideas of will, God, and immortality. The accomplished author of the "Arcadia,” the star of serenest brilliance in the glorious constellation of Elizabeth's court,-our England's Sir Philip Sidney,he, the paramount gentleman of Europe, the poet, warrior, and statesman,— held high converse with Spencer on the idea of supersensual beauty; on all "earthly fair and amiable,” as the symbol of that idea; and on music and poetry, as its living educts. With the same genial reverence did the younger + Ibid. p. χχχίν.

⚫ Statesman's Manual, Appendix, p. xlvii.
Ibid. xxxvi.

§ Mr. Henry Nelson Coleridge.

Algernon commune with Harrington and Milton on the idea of a perfect State, and in what sense it is true that the men (i.e. the aggregate of the inhabitants of a country at any one time) are made for the State, not the State made for the men. But these lights shine no longer. Exeunt: and enter, in their stead, Holofernes and Costard, masked as Metaphysics and Common Sense. And these, too, have their ideas. The former has an idea that Hume, Hartley, and Condillac have exploded all ideas but those of sensation; he has an idea that he was particularly pleased with the fine idea of the last-named philosopher, that there is no absurdity in asking what colour virtue is of, inasmuch as the philosophic answer would be, black, blue, or bottle-green, according as the coat, waistcoat, and small clothes might chance to be of the person, the series of whose motions had excited the sensations which formed the idea of Virtue. The latter (Costard) has no idea of a better flavoured haunch of venison than he dined off at the Albion. He admits that the French have an excellent idea of cooking in general, but holds that their best cooks have no more idea of dressing a turtle than the gourmands themselves at Paris have of the true taste and colour of the fat.

It is impossible to avoid sympathizing with the writer in his somewhat splenetic displeasure at the degradation thus inflicted, by the "men of this world," upon this high mental dignitary! And we have no doubt whatever that our sympathy would be far more intense, if we were more fully and distinctly instructed as to its majestic nature, and informing energy; and we do not altogether despair of seeing the day. when even the men of this generation may, some of them at least, be found worthy to "hold high converse," touching the grandeur and the potency of the living reality in question. In the mean time, however, we, too, must be content to think, and to speak, somewhat after the fashion of" the men of this world!" We must satisfy ourselves, as we best may, with the belief that the human mind is, somehow or other, gifted with the power of figuring to itself, or of entertaining, a vision of ideal perfection,-a form of supersensual dignity and beauty; and, further, that by a comparison of the visible phenomena with that lofty standard, we may best ascertain the nature and the amount of all existing defects, and most hopefully engage in the great work of purification and improvement. That the idea, thus perpetually presented to the mental eye, should exert a sort of animating and actualizing virtue, is certainly not wholly beyond our comprehension. For man is so constituted that, unless he should chance to be piteously degraded and depraved, he will not rest content with imperfection, while the form of perfection is distinctly before him. But, if there be more than this in the speculation of our philosopher, it is yet withheld from our intellectual vision; and, should any of his living disciples be enabled to disclose to us this great metaphysical verity, in all its brightness, and all its compass, their good offices will be most respectfully and most gratefully accepted.

But, to return to the meditations of the present author. The following passage will exhibit his own conceptions, relative to the idea, and its development, as exemplified in the church, and in other religious bodies:

Statesman's Manual, App. pp. xxxvi. xxxvii.