IV.

THE PHILOSOPHY OF HUMAN NATURE.

The Nature of Man as Spiritual, Immortal, and Responsible, will be the most frequent topic of this department: though sometimes we shall introduce MISCELLANEOUS Subjects.

THE WORTH OF THE SOUL.

REASON is appointed as one of man's guardians and directions to conduct him successfully through the intricate and hazardous paths of life; and in matters of greater or less moment we are daily in the habit of following the guidance and heeding the warnings which it supplies. Chiefly under this direction, the various departments of business, trade, commerce, enterprize, and legislation are carried on. Maxims and conclusions drawn from this authority are publicly declared in the forum, are continually circulated by the press, are interchanged in the market-place, and revolved in every secret chamber. Commonly a man is successful or unsuccessful, esteemed wise or foolish, and (in an inferior, but a very important sense of the words,) is happy or unhappy, as he regulates his daily conduct by the dictates of reason, or, disregarding this authority, follows the blind impulse of his feelings. The chief office of reason is to determine the inhe rent value, the relative importance, or the natural tendency, of all those things which come within the boundary of human observation, and which are either contributary or injurious to our well-being. Any person, therefore, who acknowledges the propriety and advantage of consulting this oracle, must feel it to be, if not a matter of imperative duty, at least, one of the highest prudence, thither to resort in a candid spirit and deliberately inquire the worth of the soul.

Whatever difference of opinion may exist concerning the essential character and duration of that part of our nature which thinks and feels, there can be but one opinion as to the fact, that we do think and feel: and though some may contend, that the mutual phenomena are properties of organic structure and functional activity, others will nevertheless hold to what, even apart from revelation, seems a much more reasonable opinion, namely, that the soul is a being distinct from the body, totally unlike it, and capable of a separate existence, though now found united with a material organism in such intimate and reciprocal bonds. What is the inhe rent and relative value of our thinking self, is no vain enquiry even to the former class; while to the latter it becomes of all questions one of the

most pleasing, practical, and momentous. Conscious, indeed, that all our attempts to estimate the worth of the soul must of necessity have the grand total undetermined; nevertheless, if, by studious gathering up the knowledge bearing on the subject which may now be gleaned, we can make but a considerable approach towards that result, the labour will certainly be well expended.

To every inquirer it is evident that the soul is the noblest of God's terrestrial works. There is nothing below the skies worthy to be compared with it. True, the whole earth is full of his glory. On whatever side we look, in what direction soever we turn our footsteps, the grandeur of created things in one form or another bursts upon our view. The wide spreading landscape, richly diversified with hill and dale, woodland and meadow, corn and pasture, commands our admiration. The huge mountain chain with its peaks towering aloft far away towards heaven, or anon veiling their heads in the clouds, has often awakened feelings of the most sublime. The great world of waters reposing in quietude, or heaving its bosom and rolling its boisterous waves on the shore, throws a spell over the spirit, and wraps us in silent wonder.

The freshness of spring, the beauty of summer, the richness of autum, and even the desolation of winter, alike lay us under a tribute of homage. But what are these things, though majestic, vast, beautiful, or dreary in themselves, when compared with the mind that contemplates them? Destitute of thought and emotion, unacquainted with the past, the present, and the future-unconscious of their own existence, they remain, or return from year to year, for the gratification of man's mysterious soul. Though presenting many forms of beauty, much exquisite mechanism, and wondrous powers of instinct, there is not a creature, however rich or beautiful its external covering, however, elegant its form, or colossal its stature, however graceful or rapid its movements, proud and majestic its bearing, and however marvellous its habits, that will bear a comparison with the soul of man. They all lack the power of suggestive thought; therefore, are incapacitated for all kinds of contemplation.

When God created man, he gave him "dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth :" and his relative position on the earth corresponds with these inspired words. In virtue of his reasoning faculties man is able to turn all things to his own use. The wild beasts are driven from the fertile parts of the earth, and the cattle domesticated for his benefit. The thorn and the brier, the timber tree and the shrub, the thistle and the herb flourish or disappear chiefly at his pleasure. Nor is his power limited to the surface of the earth; cutting his way through its thick and solid strata, he explores its deep and ample store-houses, and brings to light its hidden treasures. The deposits of ancient ages are wrested from their sepulchres and turned to many valuable purposes in our own. Man is not confined to one region, but he ranges from pole to pole, in quest of the productions of other climes, crossing the mighty ocean with comparative ease, making apparently adverse winds the agents of passages; or, availing himself of more modern discoveries and inventions, he sails onward successfully in spite of all opposing powers. The ends of the earth, through his skill, are now

beginning to converge; so that countries unknown to our forefathers have become our near neighbours and dependencies.

The creations of genius and taste, which are pouring in upon the civilized world in every form of convenience, decoration, and beauty, demonstrate the supremacy of man's ever inventive and constantly progressive soul. Every step of progress and improvement in the department of art and science has been directed and sustained by the ingenuity of the human intellect. In some countries this ingenuity has been in vigorous operation for ages; in others various causes have kept it in abeyance: and the difference between such countries is truly marvellous. Let England, for example, be compared with the wilds of neglected Africa,-our smiling landscapes everywhere studded with the habitation of man, with her barren and deserted plains, our peaceful flocks ruminating in every vale, with her savage and prowling beasts,-our opulent, beautiful, and populous towns, with her few, scattered, wandering huts, and the dig nity of man's soul appears in the transformations, the fruitfulness, the elegance, and the comforts which in the one case abound, in the other are utterly wanting. Or, let the comparison be drawn between England in our day, and England some two thousands years ago, and a similiar result will be given. Then the British islander had scarcely turned a thought upon his own civilization and comfort; now for many centuries this has been his study. Then he painted his body, ran naked in the woods, and sheltered himself in any retreat that accident provided; now! -but the improvement need not, and it certainly cannot, be told. An intelligence that can direct such operations, and a power that can accomplish such results, are attributes of a superior being. But the human mind possesses the attributes, and whereas we find nothing else below the skies endowed with properties at all similar, there can be no hesitancy in calling the mind, or soul, of man the noblest of God's terrestrial works.

Moreover, its powers or capabilities are vast beyond conception. It can explore the works of God far and wide. (e. g.) It can analyze, and reduce to their component elements, nearly all substances the earth contains. Many a tiny creature, five or six feet high, can nevertheless measure the height of the atmosphere, determine its weight, reckon the force of winds, conduct the course of lightning, and ascertain the great bulk of the globe itself. He can shut himself up in his laboratory, and perform many ingenious and curious experiments on water, earths, stones, metals, and shells. He can examine the structure and variations of plants; familiarize his mind with their resemblances and differences; investigate their laws of germination and progressive development. He can trace the progressive laws of germination and progressive development. He can trace the principle of organization in animals from the lowest polypus up to the finest specimen of mamalia. He can become acquainted with the nature and relations of every part of the animal frame, with all its functions. He can so understand its varied multiform diseases as to determine their character and, in most instances, their cure. The mind can become familiar with hundreds of human beings, recognise their features, and discri minate their voices. It can become acquainted with all the streets, courts, and houses of a considerable town; with all the roads, hamlets, and villages, of a large tract of country; yea, with all the principal towns, rivers,

mountains, plains, kingdoms, governments, ports, seas, oceans, and islands, of the whole globe. It can learn the languages of many nations; acquire a knowledge of their history, laws, customs, employments, politics, literature, philosophy, and religion. It can investigate the history of the whole world, and become familiar with all its main facts. It can inspect its own nature; reflect on its own thoughts, and remember its past actions; or it can look upward far away from itself and, through instruments of its own invention, examine the spots in the sun, calculate its distance, size, and weight. Travelling across the solar system, with the rapidity of thought, it can visit every planet, observing their relative distances, sizes, and motions; or it can launch forth myriads of leagues farther into the boundless expanse, and make every star the object of scientific investigation. Nor are the powers of man bounded by the visible and material, but by a still loftier flight of his reason and faith, he can penetrate even to the throne of God. Who then shall think light of the soul, or venture to set any definite bounds to its value!

Our estimation of its worth may be raised still higher by reflecting on its susceptibilities of pleasure and of pain. The mind is so constituted that almost every object in nature affords it some kind and degree of gratification. Every scene that earth presents, whether wild and rugged, or smooth and harmonious; every season of the year, every change in the atmosphere, the clouds, the appearance of the heavenly bodies, brings with it something to interest our thoughts or to gratify our feelings. Social intercourse is another exuberant spring of happiness. How congenial it is to spend an evening at home in the bosom of our family! How pleasant to ramble with a friend, when the business of a summer's day is done. How exhilirating to meet with old acquaintances and enjoy "the feast of reason and the flow of soul." Add to these joys the acquisition of knowledge. Great is the pleasure when the mind traverses the fair fields of science and literature, when it surveys in a philosophic or poetic mood the works of its Creator, when it examines the different strata that form our solid globe, and holds converse with the remains of the different races of organized beings which, in successive ages, have possessed and adorned its surface; or, leaving this lower region, when it descants on the appearances of other and higher spheres. There is another source of still higher enjoyment open to the soul of man, the the joy of communion with God. Yea, verily, though so many thousands waste their days in utter neglect, and many in affected contempt, of this kind of happiness,-nevertheless, the devout Christian knows it to be superior to all other kinds, a joy that no accident of life can take from him, a joy that outlives friends, and fortune, health, and home, and even becomes purer and deeper in proportion as others fail. The soul of man is capable of deriving immense happiness from these and other sources; therefore, until the whole of God's works in their boundless variety, numbers, and marvellous properties, are accurately determined, until the vast stores of social, intellectual, and high spiritual pleasure laid up in heaven are fully known, until the nature of the Deity, the ineffable delight of dwelling under his smile, and in intimate communion with him are adequately experienced, the full worth of the soul cannot be con

ceived.

The mind is also susceptible of misery. Man is capable of being degraded in his social relations. And who can be indifferent to the horrors of disgrace? To be frowned upon by the good and great among men, is usually felt as a severe punishment; but how terrible is the frown of Jehovah! To be cast out of honourable society on earth, is a dire calamity; how fearful then to be shut out of heaven! If to be reduced to a lower standing in earthly society, is a burden grievous to be borne, who can dwell in the lowest abyss with the Devil and his angels! Shame is a feeling resulting from the exposure of some base action, and is often found destroying the happiness of the mind for months in succession. It is allied to self-reproach; and a mind that reproaches itself for folly or wickedness, is far sunk in the pit of misery. Despair, also, can seize upon the mind. A man's fortune may be so completely ruined, and the prospect of repairing it so utterly beclouded, as to leave him no hope. A man's character may become so base, and the manifestations of God's displeasure against him so palpable and awful, that all hope of restoration and happiness may, even in this world, be entirely removed. We read that this will certainly, in another world, be the condition of every one who dies in his sins. The combined effect of shame, self-reproach, and despair, has led unhappy creatures to terminate their earthly existence with their own hands, a fact which sufficiently demonstrates its intolerable nature. The soul, then, which, on the one hand, is capable of such boundless and exalted joy; and on the other, is susceptible of such untold and unspeakable misery, deserves to be estimated above all price,-to be regarded by us as a treasure infinitely dear.

The surpassing worth of the soul receives further illustration from its spiritual nature and its eternal duration. The soul, by reason of the material link which binds it to earth, is in danger of being confounded with the corrupted things that the earth produces. But to every candid inquirer, it sufficiently proclaims its own peculiar, distinct, and superior nature. It is evident that memory, reason, hope, fear, joy, sorrow, are not properties of matter. They are so totally different from all that belongs to the material world, that the being whose qualities they are, must be called by some distinctive name. The Scriptures confirm the suggestions of reason, and teach us to regard our thinking self as a spiritual being, allied in its nature to the angels who stand in the presence of God, who perform a higher and a holier service than is appointed unto man upon earth, and who behold far more of the glories of their Creator. But if, in our nature, we can claim a kindred with these celestial beings, the inference is not improbable that, ultimately, we shall share in their privileges, society, and bliss. Happily, we are not shut up to the deductions of reason for a prospect so delightful; it is the express and oftrepeated doctrine of the Bible. What dignity, then, is impressed on the soul of man; the heir of a celestial nature, destined to stand amongst the sons of God, to hold converse with them, and perhaps to wear as bright, if not a brightier crown than they.

A right estimate of the soul's worth must consider the lofty distinction which such prospective honours confer; and it must further carefully weigh the duration of such honour. A title to an earthly estate, a right to aristocratic rank,-the possession of sovereign rule, are thought to give