ments are found, and the same spirit prevails. The very fact that they mutually recognize each other as "evangelical," shows that they are of kindred temper, and open to kindred objections. We need not, therefore, dwell upon them. Up to this point, the middle ages bear rule in dogmatic theology. Darkness broods over the face of But God said, "Let there be light, and

the waters.

there was light."

For the instrumentalities communicating this light, we must look either to Unitarianism or Universalism, or both. Springing up in this country nearly simultaneously, and holding kindred theological views, they were, nevertheless, animated each by its own genius. However, in the earlier ages of the Christian church, and subsequently in the dawn of the Reformation, they may have appeared hand in hand, and however they may be destined in some future period again to coalesce, during the last century, and in our country, each has had a history of its own.

Unitarianism sprang from the doctrine of Christ's subordination to the Father. Not, indeed, from the direct and open assertion of that doctrine, but from ceasing to assert the opposite. It was born of silence, and uttered its first cry only when disturbed by attacks from without. It originated, not in any question of the divine affections, but in the problem of the mode of the divine existence. There are certain logical results, however, growing out of its central thought, which could not long remain unperceived. Admit the hypothesis of Christ's subordination to the Father, and you remove the vital fact in the doctrine of vicarious atonement; you modify the nature of the divine law; change the objective character of regenerating faith; impart a lovlier aspect to the sovereign ruler of all; and increase the probable extent of salvation. But you arrive at these results indirectly and remotely. They are attained slowly through the necessary but somewhat obscure relations of their leading truth to all other truth. Hence Unitarianism, true to its genius, keeps silent, or speaks hesitatingly, even yet, in regard to the fulness of divine mercy. In the controversies which have secured this progress, it has rarely been prominent, but has judiciously followed the lead of others; and at the close of every hard-fought battle, it has stepped quietly

forward to occupy the field. Its final step remains yet to be taken.

Universalism, on the other hand, joins direct issue with the spirit of all preceding theologies. It assumes that God is our Father, and his nature love; that his gov. ernment is paternal, and his providences just; that all his purposes are gracious, and his plans secure. Hence

it denies the doctrine of reprobation to ceaseless woe; denies the doctrine of hereditary and total depravity as the foundation of such woe; denies even the possibility of such an issue of the divine government. And while it recognizes human responsibility, human merit and demerit, and the necessity of regeneration, it recognizes also the divine efficacy of truth and love, and the inexhaustibleness of the moral power of God.

Thus Universalism, and Universalism alone, has had the courage to look the theology of the dark ages full in the face-to pronounce it wanting, not less on moral than on exegetical grounds-and to elaborate the Christian system from its own divine stand-point. Unitarianism, it is probable, will at length stand by its side-a sort of accomplice after the fact; or at best a "silent partner" in the Christian enterprise.

On the other hand, the several would-be evangelical sects, superficial in their reforms, have the honor to defend the same theology, substantially, that had nourished the papal power before the so-called Reformation. Even their modifications of that theology have consisted, in a large measure, of the partial elimination of its element of mercy-a tacit confesssion of their distaste for that attribute of the divine character.

A. A. M.

ART. XII.

Conservatives and Radicals.

We propose to consider two classes of persons, about whom much has been said within the past few years. They are so widely different in their characteristics that

the friends of the one class seldom find it in their hearts to speak of the other, except in the language of abuse. The two classes are stigmatized, each by the other, "fogies" and "radicals." The former name has no authoritative usage, and we shall therefore substitute for it the more classic, though perhaps less vituperative term, conservatives. We wish to examine the peculiarities of each, and see if to either belongs all the virtue and all the praise.

There have always been representatives of these two classes in the world. Wherever we turn we shall find those who regard themselves as in the possession of all truth, and who obstinately shut their eyes to any further manifestation of it; who forget that truth itself is manysided, and may present a different aspect according as it is seen from different points of view. When the Pilgrims were about to set sail for this country from Delft Haven, they were exhorted to hold themselves in readiness to embrace any new truth that might appear. "For," said their devoted pastor, "I am persuaded that other light is yet to shine beyond what Luther and Calvin saw, and as children of the Most High it is your duty to receive it." Yet how poorly has this advice been kept by the descendants of that noble stock. The truth has been said to be wrapt up in this or that formula, and every thing beside has been declared rank heresy. And this feeling has not been restricted within the narrow boundaries of any sect, but to some extent has been manifested among all sects. Nor has it been confined to any one department of truth, but has extended to all. In every department of science and of art, as well as in morals and religion, the same sort of persons shall be found. Into the most hopeful circle of earnest workers for humanity, they protrude their gloomy countenances, and attempt to create distrust, and throw cold water upon their plans, by interposing the question, why or how shall these things be? They are so wedded to old forms of thought, and old habits of acting, that they will resist to the utmost any attempt to introduce a change. While others may seek for new ways of overcoming old difficulties, they will persevere in the same beaten track, looking upon those who propose new schemes as fanatics, and

those who adopt new modes as fools. Why," say they, "should we change our good old ways, in which our fathers lived and died? They were good for them, and why not, therefore, good for us?" Thus would they plod along, holding to these old customs and habits, and forever shut out all hopes of improvement. They can see no good in a change, and would be unwilling to adopt any, how much good so ever might be promised by it. With such, it is an argument which cannot be overturned, that they have become accustomed to the old way, and they will not hearken to the claims of any thing beside. Is it not enough that our fathers believed thus, and practiced thus? Does it not satisfy, that our ancestors thought heresy should be punished with death! Shall not we, too, follow in their footsteps, do as they did, cherish the same emotions that they cherished, and supplant error by the same severe means which they resorted to? We do find this same spirit manifested now at times. The form may not be so abhorrent as has been shown in ages that are past, yet the spirit is seen which is unmistakable.

They are so wedded to their peculiar notions that they are unable to see any good beyond. But can it be possible that the world has arrived at that stage of development where there is nothing more to be desired? Have we got to that point where there is nothing more to be communicated? Have we taken possession of all truth? A few years ago, many of our most substantial realities were only ideas, and were scouted at as impossibilities. The learned Dr. Lardner is said to have derided the idea of crossing the Atlantic by the power of steam. Yet he lived to cross it himself by this agency. Have we now À come to the point where the ideal must forever remain the ideal, or are we too in the midst of the future actual not yet born? Is there nothing in the womb of the future to be brought forth in God's own time? The history of the past ought to teach us a lesson of humility. The power of nature is not yet broken, that she can produce nothing more, and perhaps even to our wondering eyes she may bring forth stranger things than have been dreamed of in our philosophy.

There are a few questions which might be propounded to the conservative in the world of morals. Are your

moral notions so fully unfolded that there remains nothing more to be learned? Is the relation that should subsist between God and his creatures appreciated as it ought to be? Do you feel the cord running through your heart, which should bind all together by the closest ties? Are you alive to the great idea of the brotherhood of man, and of the solemn obligations therein contained? Do you respond to every generous thought, or do you repress all glowing emotions for any not of your "circle."

In distinction from these, who are closely wedded to the old, we find another class who seek equally for the new. Any question in science or philosophy, in morals or religion, they are ready to hear discussed and to adopt the newest view. The great recommendation of a theory to them is, that it is new. There has never been any thing too absurd to find believers. Witness the foolish and ridiculous stories of the Mormon prophet, which have found defenders willing to stake every thing dear in attes tation of their truth. From a careful survey of the teaching of history, we find that this sentiment has been working in the world. There have always been those who, for the sake of a change, have been willing to unsettle completely the foundation on which the structure of states and societies rests. There are, confessedly, great evils in the community--the cry for reform is heavy and farsounding. The great problem presented is, how to eradi. cate the evil; and the mind is ready and anxious to hear some response to the heavy surges which are tossed from society's inmost heart. This second class of persons wait only to hear some plausible theory proposed, and at once they accept it as the promised boon for which they have long anxiously looked. Nor, have they always stopped to inquire whether the evils engendered be not even greater than those they rid themselves of. This is often the case in respect of politics, morals and religion. The last new notion that makes an appeal to their favorable consideration is the one to be adopted. They have got hold of an idea of the progress of the race, and being desirous of keeping up with the times, they eagerly adopt any thing that has the merit of being strange. Often they choose what is strange for no other reason than because it is so. They sometimes seek to undermine the present condition