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selves down as nearly midway between the poles as possible. Some times they are called in derision, men of the fence, but they call themselves, and more correctly, neuters, that is, neithers; for the real study and problem of their school is negative. It is not to find the truth as a positive form and law, but it is simply to find a position halfway between the two schools before them -to be about as much and about as little one as the other. They are prudent, but not wise. They make a show of candor, without so much as a thought of the truth. But as men grow weary of controversy, and the passions that give zest to it for a time are seen to die out, and give place, at last, to a sense of disgust; as extremnes held singly are seen moreover to bring a sense of defect and weariness by themselves, the neutrals are very likely to get their turn and become the reigning school. The public are sick-why must their ears be stunned by the perpetual din of controversy ? So falling into the sick list of neutrality, one after another, the two schools of the extremes are gradually thinned away, and seem about to be forgot ten. But for some reason it begins at length to be felt that there is a very peculiar insipidity in this neutral state. There is nothing sufficiently positive in it to waken a resonant feeling in the soul. Plausibilities have taken the place of truths, and the diet is too thin to feed the blood. After spending thus a whole age or generation midway between somewhere and nowhere, or rather between two somewheres, they be gin to feel that neutralities, after all, are more sickening than controversies, and they are willing, possibly, to go back and resume the old quarrel of the extremes, if it is only for the health of the exercise.

There is also what is sometimes called a liberal school, which differs widely from the neutral, as having aims of a more generous quality.

For while the timorous neutral is engaged to settle his position midway between extremes, the liberal is extending an equal indulgence to both. The former is moved by prudence to himself, the latter by charity to others. The virtue of one is moderation, that of the other tolerance. One lets go the truth to consult distances, the other admits that possibly we are all too distant from the truth and see it too dimly to be over positive concerning it. Now most of the arguments and motives to liberality are of a reasonable and generous quality, and where the liberal spirit is connected with a rigid and earnest devotion to truth, it is a condition of health to itself and a mark of respect to others. But how easy is it to be indulgent to others, if first we are indifferent to the truth. And if liberality itself is made to be the virtue and hung up as the flag of a school, it is very sure to prove itself, ere long, to be anything but a virtue. Or if still it be called by that name, it will show itself to be the most unilluminated, most impotent and insipid of all virtues. Having no creed, in fact, save that other men shall be wel come to theirs-earnest in nothing save in vindicating the right of others to be earnest, counting it charity not to be anxious for the truth, but to be patient with all error, smiling indulgently upon all extremes, not caring how the truth may fare between them-the liberal school makes a virtue of negation, and freezes itself in the mild and gentle temperature it has mistaken for charity. The word liberal is in fact a negative word, there is noth ing positive in it. And, as words are powerful, no body of men, however earnest at the beginning, can long rally under this word as a flag, without making it a sacrament of indifference, and subsiding, thus, into a state which involves a disrespect to all the sacred rights of truth. But as life can not long be

endured where earnestness is lost, so the liberalist will begin, ere long, to feel that his supposed charity does not bless him. And now he will gird himself again for war, seize upon some post and fortify it, and though it do not cover a half acre of ground, he will swear to die fighting for something, as better than possessing nothing.

Having now the schools above named before us, first the schools of the extremes, with their wars; then the neutral or the liberal school or both, succeeding and bringing in an age of dearth that can not longer be supported; we may see how a fifth school rises to complete the cycle and gather unto the truth, her own true catholic brotherhood. There rises up now a man, or a few men, who looking again at the two extreme schools, begin to ask whether it is not possible to comprehend them—that is to receive, hold, practice all which made the extreme opinions true to their disciples? The very thought gives compass or enlargement to the soul in which it is conceived. It ascends, as it were, to a higher position, to look down upon the strifes of the race and use them as the material of its exercise, conveniencies to its own final establishment and victory. In this effort to comprehend extremes, it offers no disrespect, but the highest respect, rather, to the great and earnest spirits that have stood for the truth and fought her battles, giving them all credit for their courage and devotion, and considering them, in fact, as the right and left wing of the field, which it now remains to include in one and the same army. It is in fact a disciple of the extremes, taking lessons of both, and ceasing not till it has gotten what ever good and whatever truth made their opinions sacred to themselves. In the endeavor to comprehend extremes, it comprehends also both the views of the neutral and the liberal schools. The neutral was sure

that there was some extravagance, some defect of equilibrium in the extremes, and this he thought to restore, by dividing distances and holding neither. The comprehensive school restores it by holding both and bringing both to qualify and moderate each other. The liberal saw charity perishing in the earnest battle of the extremes, and required of itself a more indulgent spirit. The comprehensive school finds not only a defect of charity, but, what is more, a real ground for charity, in the fact that both extremes are only standing for the two poles of truth; earnest because they have the truth, and only quarreling because they have not breadth enough to see that they are one. In the comprehensive school it will be a first conviction, that all serious, earnest men have something in their view which makes it truth to them; therefore that all serious, earnest men, however repugnant in their words, have yet some radical agreement, and if the place can be found, will some. where reveal their brotherhood. Therefore they are not only to tolerate, but to love and respect each other. Nay, they are each to ask, what has the other, which is necessary to its own completeness in the truth? And thus the comprehensive school, finding its liberality in the higher pursuit of truth, will have it not as a negation and exercise it not as a sacrament of indifference. It will be moderate without pursu ing moderation, liberal without pursuing liberality, both because it follows after the truth, giving heed to all earnest voices, and bowing as a disciple to all her champions.

It is not our design, in giving out this distribution of schools, to place them all upon an equal footing. The first two and the last, the two extreme, or partisan schools and the comprehensive school must appear in their order-they constitute the necessary conditions of mental progress in the truth, and truth can not

find a complete and full develop. ment without them. The other two, the neutral and the liberal, do appear casually, or incidentally, and often hold an important figure in the real history of sects and opinions, and no sufficient view of the actual history of opinions can be given, without some reference to them. They may both be regard ed, perhaps, as spurious modes of the comprehensive school, actuated by some dim and undiscovered sense of the fact that there is, doubtless, a higher, broader truth, which, if it were known, would reveal an aspect of extravagance in the partizan strifes of the world. In this view, they may be looked upon as rudimental efforts preparatory to the development of a true comprehensiveness. And therefore the proper dignity of a comprehensive effort, guided by intelligent convictions and fixed laws of criticism, could not appear, without some notice of the contrast between it and them.

Having it for our design, in this article, to recommend the comprehensive spirit in religion, we are tempted, first of all, to speak of it as related to character itself; for this is the radical interest of the subject, and the illustrations we may offer here will be familiar to all our readers, even to those who are unexercised in the higher abstractions of theology.

The endeavor to comprehend all antagonisms and hold the just equilibrium of truth is the highest and most ingenuous that a human soul can propose one that God only can perfectly realize. Yet whosoever has but conceived such a thought gives some evidence therein of a resemblance to God, and he is, according to the measure of his success, a truly great character. A compre hensive character is, in fact, the only really great character possible among men. And, being that which holds the fullest agreement and sym.

pathy with God, it is one, we are persuaded, that is specially valued and cherished by Him. We shall find also, by inspection, that all the defective modes of character in Christian men are due to the fact that some partial, or partizan view of duty sways their demonstrations. Sometimes one extreme is held, sometimes the other, and accordingly we shall see that, excepting cases where there is a fixed design to brave the laws of all duty, the blemished characters go in pairs.

Thus one man abhors all prejudice, testifies against it night and day, places all his guards on the side opposite, and, as prejudgments of some kind are the necessary condition of all judgments, it results, of course, that he falls into an error quite as hurtful and more weak, ceasing to have any fixed opinion, or to hold manfully any truth whatever. Another, seeing no evil but in a change of opinions, holds his opinions by his will and not by his understanding. And as no truth can penetrate the will, he becomes a stupid and obstinate bigot-standing for truth itself, as if it were no better than falsehood.

There is a class of Christians, who specially abhor a scrupulous religion. It is uncomfortable, it wears a superstitious look, and therefore they are moved to assert their dignity by venturing out, occasionally, on acts or exhibitions that are plainly sinful. And then when they return to their duty (which they are quite certain finally to omit) they consent to obey God, not because of the principle, but because of the importance of the occasion! In expelling all scruples, they have made an exile of their consciences. A man at the other extreme will have it for his religion to be exact in all the items of discipline, and will become so conscientious about mint, anise and cummin, that no conscience will be left for judgment, or mercy, or even for honesty.

Some persons are all for charity, meaning by the term a spirit of allowance towards the faults and crimes of others. Christ they say commands us not to judge; but they do not observe that there are things which we can see without judging and which, as they display their own iniquity, ought to be condemned in the severest terms of reprobation. Charity will cover a multitude of sins-not all. The dearest and truest charity will uncover many. Opposite to such, we have a tribe of censorious Christians, who require us to be bold against sin, who put the harshest constructions on all conduct, scorching and denouncing as surely as they speak. If they could not find some sin to denounce, they would begin to have a poor opinion of their own piety. These could not even understand the Savior, when he says, neither do I condemn thee.'

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Some Christian professors are so particularly pleased with a cheerful spirit, and so intent on being cheerful Christians themselves, that they even forget to be Christians at all. They are light enough, free enough, -the longitude of face they so much dread is effectually displaced. In deed the godly life, prayer, sobriety itself, are all too sombre for their kind of piety. Opposed to these we have an austere school, who object to all kinds of relaxation, and have even some scruples about smiling. A hearty laugh is an act of positive ungodliness. They love to see the Christian serious at all times. Their face is set as critically as the surveyor's needle, or they carry it as nicely as they would carry a full vessel. But there is a certain measure of sourness in all human bosoms, which if it can not be respited by smiles, becomes an active leaven. The face that was first serious changes to a vinegar aspect, and this reacts to sour the sourness of nature, till finally it will be found that the once amiable person has become VOL. VI.

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nervous, acrid, caustic and thoroughly disagreeable.

We have a class of disciples who appear to sum up all duty in selfexamination. They spend their lives in examining and handling themselves. They examine themselves till they are selfish, and extinguish all the evidences for which they look. They inspect and handle every affection till they have killed it, and become so critical, at length, that no feeling of the heart will dare venture out, lest it should not be able to stand scrutiny. Another class have it for a maxim nev. er to doubt themselves. Let us do our duty,' they say, and God will take care of us.' So they delve on, confident, presumptuous, ignorant of themselves, guarded against no infirmity. But they might about as well do nothing in the name of duty, as to go on with a spirit so ill regulated, and if they knew it, so very nearly wicked.

There is a class of disciples who especially love prudence. It is the cardinal virtue. They dread, of course, all manifestations of feeling, which is the same as to say that they live in the absence of feeling; for our feelings are the welling up of the soul's waters, the kindling of its fires, when no jealousy is awake to suppress them. If they are watched, they retreat to their cell-joy, love, hope, pity, fear—a silent, timorous brood, that dare not move. The prudential man becomes thus a man of ice, or, since the soul is borne up and away to God only on the wings of feeling, sinks into a state of dull negation. Then we have another class who detest the trammels of prudence, and are never in their element, save when they are rioting in emotion. But as the capacity of feeling is limited, it comes to pass in a few days that what they had is wholly burnt to a cinder. Then, as they have a side of capacity for bad feeling still left, new signs will begin to appear. As the

are justified by faith, some by works. But as faith without works is dead, and works without faith are equally so, there are some who prefer to

raptures abate and the high symptoms droop, a kind of despair begins to lower, a faint chiding also is heard, then a loud rail, then bitter deprecations and possibly impreca-show their faith by their works, and

tions too; charges are leveled at individuals, arrows are shot at the mark, and the volcanic eructations thrown up at the sky are proofs visible and audible of the fierce and devilish heat that rages within. This is fanaticism, a malicious piety, kindling its wrath by prayer and holy rites.

In these examples we have brought into view, extremes that are furnish ed principally out of the contents of persons. How manifest is it that each of these extremes, embracing its opposite, would rest in a balanced equilibrium on the two poles of duty, and be itself the wiser and the holier, for that which is now its mischief and its overthrow.

There are other classes of extremes affecting the character, which are more speculative in their nature. What endless war have we between the school of reason and the school of faith. But the truly enlarged disciple will somehow manage to comprehend both, considering it to be the highest reason to believe, and the highest faith to reason. One man places virtue in action, another in feeling. Possibly it is in a moral standing of the soul, to which it ascends between both-action inspired by feeling, feeling realized by action-thus in the moral liberty of the whole man. One class consider Christian piety to be a Godward and devotional habit. Another class are equally sure that God is pleased with us, when we do our duties to our fellow men. Thus we have pietism or quietism on one side, and philanthropy on the other. But the comprehensive word commands us to do justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly before God-to love God and through him love our brother, to love our brother and to see therein that we love God. Some

quicken their works by faith, and thus to be alive in both. There is also a school of legalists, and a school of spiritualists. The former live without liberty, the latter with out law. But the true Christian soul is free in the law; for it is the art of love to hold a soul under discipline, and beguile it still of all sense of constraint. Some resolve all duty into self-interest. Others are equally sure that all self-interest is criminal. Possibly self-interest may of fer motives, that will bring the soul up unto God and prepare it to such thoughts that it will freely love God and duty for their own sake, and thus go above self-interest. So one person is for experiences, another for habits; one for sentiments, another for principles. But God is comprehensive, working all in all— only by diverse operations. A large body of Christians insist on a perfectly uniform exercise in religion. Another body are for new scenes and high demonstrations. But God, consulting both for uniformity and diversity, prefers to bring us on towards one, by means of the other.

So in all the possible views or aspects of Christian character, you will come nearest to what is great and Christ-like, if you seek to unite whatever repugnant extremes are before you to be modest and yet bold; conciliatory and yet inflexible; patient in suffering, sharp in rebuke; deferential to all men, independent of all; charitable towards the erring, severe against the error; at once gentle and rigid, catholic and exclusive, all things to all men, and one thing only to yourself. The more numerous and repugnant the extremes of character (excepting those which are sinful) you are able to unite in one comprehensive and harmonious whole, the more finish.

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