more value than the "whole world." We have already noticed the assertion that the stars are of no use to man, and would merely add, that if they did nothing more than declare to him "the glory of God," or show "his handiwork," they would not be without a use, nor a use unworthy of them, seeing that man is " a servant, subject, and child of God, in a way so unique and peculiar." Throughout the whole volume of revelation, we cannot discover anything that supports the idea of a plurality of worlds. The spirit and statements of the scriptures tend to insulate our earth from the rest of the universe as the scene of a special display of | divine power, wisdom, and goodness. Nowhere in the inspired record is there the slightest hint given that there are any beings in space except angels, men, devils, and the persons of the Godhead-classes which include all those beings "in heaven," on the earth," in the sea, and "under the earth," which John describes as joining in the hymn to "the Lamb that was slain." Bearing in mind these things, we think we are justified in asking for stronger reasons than those which have been adduced by our opponents, before we give our verdict in favour of the affirmative of this question. S. S. Bistory. HAS MONACHISM BEEN BENEFICIAL TO EUROPEAN SOCIETY? "Human societies are born, live, and die upon the earth; their destinies are there accomplished. But they contain not the whole of man. After he has bound himself to society, there remains to him the noblest part of himself."-M. Royer Collard. imbecility, and one swift step at the expense of succeeding inertia. Man, as a many-sided being, thus merged into the one-sided community. He bound himself up in society. All the activities which an imperfect developIn the history of human development we ment had created in him, he gave to his observe that all violent changes from old society-his order. He gave himself away. systems into new, all strides of preternatural But "after he had bound himself to society, progress, were invariably occasioned by that there remained to him the noblest part of impulsive kind of strength which proceeds himself." But he knew it not. His partial from unity. They were brought about by a success had blinded him to his general failcollective body of men, by a society an ure. The brightness of the one idea had order, binding themselves together and join-cast all others into the shade; and the many ing hands in a common cause. A league lights of intelligence which would have arisen was formed, and a compact was made, to in his soul, were thus put out by the brilcarry out the common design. But while liancy of one. the particular ends of the community were thus more swiftly attained, it is observable that this undue progress was purchased at other and greater costs than those of commensurate labour. In proportion as society advanced in its chosen track, in proportion to the ardency with which the individual was leagued to the event, and in proportion to his ascendancy over circumstances, in the same proportion were his unexercised powers weakened, his unengaged faculties paralyzed, and his true progress retarded. One excellence was purchased at the expense of general We have thus no faith in brotherhoods. We believe that communisms-monastic or otherwise inasmuch as they cramp the true development, by decoying all the energies into one channel, are alike derogatory to the individual, and baleful to the species. Their effect is to cultivate one side of the mind, but leave the other in groping ignorance. They tend to illuminate one faculty, but to leave the others in gross darkness. Nor is this assertion wanting in proof. The principle which we thus inculcate is abundantly evinced in every-day life. Look at the anti quary, the lawyer, the sectarian, the man of the earth was thinly populated, and there business. Now, are any of these fair speci- were no facilities for mutual intercourse. mens of humanity as it ought to be? With None of the modern aids to the diffusion of their intellect narrowed, their views distorted, knowledge, truth, and intelligence then extheir reason frail, their moral tone deprecia-isted. Printing was unknown. No schoolted; with all their elements unduly mixed, master was abroad. Collegiate instruction and their mental stature either dwarfed, was extremely limited. It was the fashion, monstrous, or otherwise morbidly dispropor- indeed, to esteem knowledge as ignoble. tionate, we find all of them to be embodi- The scribe was the only multiplier of wise ments of particular instincts or qualities, men's thoughts. But the long labours of rather than men. And all of them have this industrious and solitary worker were thus, by their communistic pursuits, ren- confined to the secluded libraries of the dered themselves incapable of acting the part church, to which none but the initiated and of men in the great drama of life. the influential had access. By this priestly ultra-conservatism in knowledge the people were kept for ages in ignorance; and if more auspicious powers than those of the priesthood had not arisen, humanity would certainly to this day have participated in the barbarism, the darkness, and the moral slavery which were the effects of monastic precedence. These are the glorious results of the papal creed. These were the ends so ably accomplished by Papacy, and its scion, Monachism, when they had supreme power on the earth. From the fifth to the sixteenth century the Papal crown held predominant sway in Europe. During the whole of that time the emissaries of all the orders of priesthood were preternaturally active, and omnipotent over the civilization of Europe. At the beginning of the fifth century, when Paganism, Mohammedanism, and all heretics, the Arians in particular, were either vanquished or in a minority, the Roman church began to feel her power, and to be incited, by past conquests, into the attempt of greater victories. She now began to see her mission clearly. Nothing short of universal control over the religious and social destinies of man would satisfy her ambition. She looked round on humanity, and considered the signs of the times, ere she took the initiative. She saw that the barbarous customs, religions, and bigotries descended from one generation as heirlooms to the next; and that no man dreamed of altering or questioning the utility of these ancient institutions. Information was stagnant, for there were no adequate means of disseminating it. All things considered, these astute priests were satisfied that if, by the vigorous and systematic power of any community, some new idea, some startling revelation, could be implled through t! social kness into every But if the general operation of communism is bad, we shall find that in the case of Monachism its effects were aggravated in a tenfold degree by the peculiar features of the monastic system of operation. The evils which arise out of the abstract principle of moral monopoly are always great; but the action of this principle was especially perverse in the instances of Monachism and its papal godfather. This case was again heightened by the facilities which were offered for a monopolization of the heart and head of humanity during the first dawn of man's struggles for light and development. In estimating the good or bad influences of Monachism on the progress of European civilization it is particularly requisite to take into note the weight of collateral causes. "For in history," says Guizot, "it is essential to set great value upon the indirect influence of things; for they are more efficacious than is commonly supposed." Hence we are especially careful to point out the favourable opportunity which Monachism, in consequence of its communistic strength, its conservative tone, and its bigotry, had of acting banefully upon the civilization of early Europe. And when we recollect, also, that the institutors of the monastic order aimed not only at religious power of the most rigorous character, but also at universal and most despotic political emperorship, we shall not be surprised to find that this power, when it came, was abused, and that the priesthood was most jealous of any influences which were more benignant than their own. Thus, in consequence of the worldly aspirations of papal power, we find that the ascendancy of Monachism over all other early systems had a most pernicious effect on the efforts of humanity; for at that remote period barbarian's susceptible bosom, and thus be caused to address itself directly to the expecting ear and dumb wants of the age, the effects of such an announcement would be like those of the swift lightning on a flitful atmosphere. The full advantage of these circumstances was taken; and Romanism rose up to engage the popular ear, and to work out her own destiny. The thunders of her despotic creeds were quickly heard over the length and breadth of Europe. And now the liberties of mankind began to be invaded. Romanism had possessed itself of a name; and the instincts of the people, long in a state of dumb expectancy, began to be captivated by the promises and immunities freely offered by the rising church. The mind, which had grown vacant with long absence of thought or object, now started up into life, and found fresh material on which to exert its passions. Thus the mouldering fire of a torpid existence kindled into a raging and living flame. But while the new doctrine thus pressed its way into the minds of men, its effects were not merely subjective on the mind, but objective on the manners. A new phase of existence began. But we must mark, that although the course of European civilization was thus arrested by a communistic power, and its activities warmly incited, the new impetus now impressed was a bad one, and it was always retained under the unprincipled and most despotic guidance of Romanism; and the ends, therefore, to which the newly given impression led, were carefully attended to by a politic power. The people were thus kept in a state of religious slavery. The church dictated to them their sacred creeds. By the church they lived; their souls were in the hands of the church; and it was in the power of the church to stand between the man and his Maker. It was in the power of one man to snatch the fluttering soul of his fellowmortal from heaven or from hell; and the priest had the power of selling this mediation for so much base coin as he chose to name! This was the new religion. Now, what were its legitimate effects on the unenlightened minds of early Europe? It took away every man's responsibility; it told him that if he kept friends with the priest his soul was safe; it told him that it is by money, not by piety, that he is to be blessed; it proclaimed that he could do any atrocity if he could pay for it; it gave freedom from error to the rich, but it brought terrible anathemas on the head of the poor. In this way the popular faith was abused. A most crude superstition was taught instead of an enlightening and ennobling Christianity. Barbarism was preferable to this. And in enforcing this blind confidence on the ignorant and turbulent populace, there was every care taken to make the servility most unmitigated; for should popular confidence be shaken by any insidious foe, the whole work must crumble to dust. But the church, nevertheless, contrived to govern and to guide this complication of untoward elements; she made them all work together, and conduce to her own aggrandizement. She held the reins of the popular sympathies with the unerring hand of papal cupidity and intolerance. She had not raised a turbulent devil which she could not control. In this way we account for the prodigious effects of Monachism, amongst other juggleries, on the startled mind of Europe in the middle ages. And this astounding effect we maintain was owing, not so much to the inherent grandeur or importance of the dogma, as to the systematic way in which it was dispersed, and to the fact of the space of time which had elapsed since the last budget of information had been promulgated. The new fact owed its efficacy to the scarcity of such visitations, not to its own merits. We invite great stress to be laid on the theory just broached; and let it be remembered that Monachism is responsible for its influences in proportion to its capability of employing those influences. If it has wantonly deprived humanity of knowledge, and if, for its own interested purposes, it has brought error and delusion into the hearts of men, it deserves a more than common execration; and instead of being beneficial to European civilization, it has abused the simple faith of our forefathers, and has most basely usurped the liberties of conscience, in order that the pernicious results may foster its own power. It is one of the facts of history that the priesthood instilled only such notions into the popular ear as found favour with itself. The character of these nostrums may be inferred from the fact that in after times the work now achieved had to be undone, and that the people had to seek other guides than those they formerly had. The doctrines of the originators of Monachism were thus at first received with avidity; then they were questioned; and when humanity had attained a moderate degree of intelligence, they were ejected by universal consent. This is a suggestive fact. We are led to ask, What was the need of reformation, if there had existed nothing to be reformed? And if the monastic institutions were so salutary, why did human nature rebel against them, and all the nations of Europe rise up to cast them out? But more of this hereafter. We now aim only to direct cursory attention to the early operation of the papal precursor of Monachism, and to point out the facilities which it then possessed for practising any species of influence on humanity. Now we maintain that it is a case of gross usurpation for any community to invade the liberty of thought. It is a flagrant arrogation of the powers of Deity, and the act is unjustifiable on any grounds whatever. All mankind are liable to error, and the best of us are susceptible to unworthy temptations; it is, therefore, wrong of any body of erring men to obtain possession of the secret beliefs, and to aspire to hold the immortal destinies, of any portion of mankind. It is impossible for man to have this power, and not to abuse it. However honourable and philanthropic may have been the motives which originally led to the aim at this behest, we know, both from history and from logical sequence, that the pure motive will gradually become designing, and that the consequences of one man dictating the moral creed to another are most injurious to the cause of true civilization and moral develop ment. Let us turn to history for the proof. For in addition to Monachism being false in principle, we shall learn that its effects on humanity have even exceeded in atrocity the legitimate deductions from that false principle. And while "Stanislaus" has produced the authority of several writers and quarterly reviewers to prove a few questionable acts of common courtesy, he has neglected to go into the great question of the good or bad influences of the monastic order on European society. He represents the monks as a party of harmless old gentlemen, bent on seclusion, employing their time in bibliogical pursuits, and in distributing their superfluous goods to the piously indigent. To confine the question to such limits is truly a laughable example of obtusity to unwelcome truth. Must we inform "Stanislaus" that the monks were something more than the quiet neighbours and "good landlords," on which he lays so much stress? They played a conspicuous part in European politics during many centuries, and were engaged in open hostilities against the political and religious liberties of the whole world, to which they proved themselves dangerous foes. Their policy was of an unscrupulous character, and all their designs proved the possession of great foresight and decision. The plan of their operations was most extensive, and the consequent amount of evil which it led to occupied ages in counteracting, and in finally reducing to a minimum. An opponent to the affirmative side might honestly make out a better case for "Stanislaus" than this writer has set before us. Let us, therefore, take up the question on historical grounds, and trace out the origin, the practical effects, and the fall of the monastic order. This institution, as all are aware, is a scion of the Church of Rome. It will be well, therefore, to turn to this mother-church; and to ascertain, in the first place, what was the nature of the internal conflicts, or of the external wants, which led to the formation of the monastic order. We shall then be able to judge more intelligently of the scope and aims of Monachism. At the beginning of the fifth century we find the Romish church labouring under the delusion that its mission was accomplished, and its power fully established. She had vanquished Paganism, and her conquest over the Arian heretics was thought certain. A stringent body of laws had been drawn up by the Emperor Theodosius, and under their guidance the affairs of the church were administered successfully. But just at this palmy time the Roman empire fell; and with it, of course, the Church of Rome. The priesthood now, with its usual policy, addressed itself to the heretics in power. In this step the church was but partially successful; the new emperors were won over, but they did not enter so pliably into the schemes of religion, and did not occupy the same relative position, as the fallen dynasty. In this struggle the fifth and sixth centuries were occupied; and it ended in the barbarians assuming even greater privileges over the church than had been enjoyed by the civilized Romans. The clergy sullenly succumbed to the indignities thus offered them; but they refused to make use of their influence for political ends, and were manful in their resistance against the depredations of the neighbouring barbarians, who sought to prey upon the hoarded riches of the church. In this way, after a long and unsuccessful conflict to induce barbarism to be her tool, the church was compelled to declare itself separated from the world, and to assume an independent spiritual order. And thus, instead of religion modifying barbarism, we find that the case was vice versâ; for, according to Guizot, "about this time bishops adopted the barbarian life, and without quitting their bishoprics constituted themselves chiefs of banditti, roaming over the country, pillaging and fighting, like the companions of Clovis. Gregory of Tours mentions several bishops who passed their time after this fashion." Such was the state of the church when Monachism sprung up. "It was at the commencement of the sixth century that St. Benedict instituted his order amongst the monks of the West, who were then very few in number, but who subsequently multiplied prodigiously. The monks were not, up to that period, members of the clerical body, but were still regarded as laymen. No doubt priests, and even bishops, had been sought out amongst them; but it was not till the end of the fifth century, and the beginning of the sixth, that the monks in general were considered as forming part of the clergy, properly so called. After that, matters were reversed; priests and bishops became monks, conceiving that they thereby made new progress in the religious life. Thus the monkish order took all at once an excessive development in Europe. The monks struck the imagination of the barbarians more forcibly than the secular clergy; their number, as well as the singularity of their life, had an effect upon them."* The secular order thus merged into the monastical, and they continued amicably together during several centuries, growing depraved after the late reaction, sinking into corruption, while abuses of all kinds prevailed. The operation of a church thus conducted could not, therefore, * Guizot: "History of Civilization in Europe." have had a very beneficial effect on society at this time. Nor did it much improve afterwards; and when a slight reaction took place, the clergy became worse, and the abuses more flagrant, after it had subsided. In the seventh century, the church fought with Mohammedanism, and confined it in Europe to Spain. During the crusades of the twelfth century, Monachism again became conspicuous. The monks were constant attendants upon the soldiers of the cross, for their order was interested in the question of the holy sepulchre. The monks instigated the combatants; they shrived the dying, promised a short purgatory, and possessed themselves of the valuables of the defunct. From this period up to the sixteenth century, Monachism continued the even tenor of its way, without any remarkable event. As before, it continued to meddle in political affairs, and was ceaseless in its grasping activity for worldly power. There are few states in Europe which have not cause to lament the officious interference of priestcraft with their government. It continued to make itself notorious by deeds of petty avarice with regard to the people; and it went on to use its religious influence to embroil one state with another, and to oppose the progress of civilization. Its life depended upon notoriety-upon dazzling the ignorant populace. No artifice was too mean for this end. The monks went even so far as to announce, as an axiom of religion, that "the means are justified by the end." Accordingly, when a thing to be done was more than usually questionable, they only said that it was for the good of the church, and that sufficed. The natural consequence of this loose morality was, that miracles were got up, angels appeared, virgins winked, apostolic relics were exhibited, indulgences were sold, and other base deceptions practised upon the people. Now, were these things likely to benefit European society? But the monks were driven to them, in support of their church. These juggleries were part of their religious system; and without them, the name of the church would have ceased to be heard in the land. The votaries of the church were alive to this, for the tricks and indulgences were the direct and systematically conceived results of this knowledge. There was, therefore, nothing in their conduct to redeem it from the taint of open, |