not condemn it without admitting, though reluctantly as it seem, that it is "of some assistance to apprehension.” readers of the "Analogy" will all unite, we believe, in opinion, that had this "forward, delusive faculty" entered a more largely into the composition of that great work, it would very materially assisted in their "apprehension" of the truths th discussed. In this admission of Bishop Butler, is containe exact statement of the kind of aid which is furnished to the p sopher by his imagination. It is, indeed, of some assistance i prehension. By its aid, and by this alone, the reasoner s hold of his subject with strength of grasp, and bringing it up a clear and bright field of vision, pours upon it the light of illus tion, that he may have a distinct and well-defined view of that which he would decide. It is also true, that no man can use guage in reasoning, without availing himself, by the very act, of aid of the imagination. The faculties of the mind, and the tr which relate to the unseen world, surely, were never present to bodily senses of any man. But the names by which they are noted will be found, in every language, to have been taken fr the brightest and most striking of all the objects which man holds. Those who first selected and applied them, did not hold for their purpose of a succession of arbitrary and unmean sounds; on the contrary, they formed a picture language, whi placed all objects within their command, and was itself vivid a distinct. By constant service, however, words which were first metaphorical, cease to be so, and the brightness with whi the idea at first shone out therefrom, is dimmed or quite obscure That which was originally the living medium of thought and fe ing, is now as the body without the soul, a "rock of offense" the school-boy, a "dictionary word" to the common people, an with the scholar too often a mere sound. Under this disadvantag a disadvantage inseparable from the continued use of any languag the philosopher who would have distinct and lively thoughts, an would be intelligible to himself, must of necessity resort to illustra tion, and by the aid of objects without, render clear to himself the world within. That he will thus expose himself to errors to whic otherwise he would not have been liable, is true; just as a person who has eyes, and uses them, will oftener mistake in seeing, than the man who cannot see at all. The sense of sight may also" ob trude" itself where it should not, and may attempt to decide o what pertains exclusively to another sense; but it by no mean follows, that with its aid a person will mistake more frequently than without it. We do, in fact, see many individuals well gifted in other respects, but who for lack of the quickening of imagination display an intellectual imbecility, and weakness of insight, a want of power to seize fast and permanent hold of a conclusion they

have once formed, which is ill compensated by a supposed infallibility when they venture to decide. Yet the mind blest with the aid of a lively imagination, possesses, in addition to those advantages which can be distinctly traced, a general activity and quickness of movement which is essential to effective power of intellect, whenever a demand is made for its exercise. With all the errors, therefore, to which it may expose the philosopher, its aid is indispensable to him who would think in earnest, and decide with a prompt and vigorous energy. This statement might be most fully confirmed by an examination into the intellectual character of the most distinguished philosophers. Though the aspect which their intellect has oftenest assumed, has been one of harshness and severity; yet the spring which quickened its motions, we are persuaded, will be found in most cases to have been an imagination originally most active. In some instances, as in the case of Edwards, it has now and then burst forth with a startling power, as if scorning to be at all times the servant of the other faculties.

But to return to Mr. Burke. We have attempted to show, that his intellect was highly philosophical and imaginative in its characteristics, and that these constituted its most strongly marked features. It remains for us to say, that it was the intellect of a scholar, rather than that of the man of mere original and native force of mind. A person may possess a mind that is brilliant in imagination, philosophical in its habits, which has also been thoroughly trained by that sort of discipline resulting from an actual contact with men; and yet fall far short of that cast of intellectual character, which is the fruit only of the education of a thorough scholar. There is a finish and orderliness, a readiness of self-command, a gracefulness and ease of movement, which characterizes the scholar who has also preserved throughout his studies, the freshness and integrity of his original mental constitution. An air of refinement, too, is shed over all his performances, removing what is unsightly, softening what is abrupt and harsh, and reducing every discordant feature to a perfect keeping. His power over language displays the advantages of his training. In conversation, on the most ordinary topic even, his words have a precision and fixedness of meaning, and his sentences a perfectness of construction, which, while all is natural, delight us as they move on in flowing harmony. All these marks of the scholar, and the man of books, are found in the writings of Mr. Burke; while we as plainly see, that the scholar was not formed at the expense of the man, nor had the discipline taken the place of the original material. The influence of the scholar's education is seen most strikingly in another feature of character. The wisdom of the self-educated man, as the term is applied, is strong, decisive, and unsparing; and his

VOL. VI.

31

decisions withal marked with self-confidence, as coming from one who has been taught to depend on nothing so much as the good genius of his own intellect. That of the other, though it may be the same in its intent and objects, is marked by an air of modesty, such as belongs to one who has learned much from others, and most of all, has become convinced from a study of the works and the history of the wise, that they often err. It is not at all inconsistent, however, with a firm and well-grounded adherence to one's opinions, or with a frank and manly assertion of them. What we speak of, is the garb with which the wisdom of the educated naturally clothes herself, and the language in which she chooses to deliver her oracles. These opposite tendencies are as various in the form and degree of their development, as are the men who exhibit them; yet still they exist, and will continue to be seen as long as their appropriate causes shall remain. In Mr. Burke they are both apparent, though, as we have before observed, the scholar predominates. Especially will one be struck with the gentlemanly grace, and polished urbanity, which show forth the man who has become modest by being taught, and distrustful of himself, by looking up with reverence to the great and good of past days. Reverence, in this great statesman, was a passion; and he delighted to give utterance to it in every form of expression, and to fasten it more deeply in his own mind, by associations drawn from every source. The symbols of royalty, the hereditary orders of the state, the men and treasure who were consecrated to the service of the church, with the great and good of all times, ever excited in him heart-felt emotions. He speaks of the union of church and state in one establishment, as the "oblation of the state itself, as a worthy offering on the high altar of univer sal praise," which "should be performed as all public solemn acts are performed, in buildings, in music, in decorations, in speech, in the dignity of persons according to the customs of mankind, taught by their nature; that is, with modest splendor, with unassuming state, with mild majesty and sober pomp." We do not at all agree with him in the particular opinions which occasioned the feelings here expressed; but we envy not the self-complacence of him who thinks the expression of such sentiments a weakness in this great man. Nor do we find that the reverential cast of his feelings at all diminished the vivacity and spring of his intellectual activity, or that freshness of youthful elasticity which he ever manifested when called upon to grapple with an adversary. It is the man who reverences the truth with the deepest feeling, who is the most ready to do valiantly in its defense. Such is the man who,

"if called upon to face

Some awful moment, to which heaven has joined
Great issues, good or bad for human kind,

Is happy as a lover,—is attired

With sudden brightness, like a man inspired."

The social and domestic character of Mr. Burke, is just what we should expect it to be in a man who was honest and heart-felt, both in the exercise and exhibition of his feelings; who was wise in his estimate of the true sources of man's happiness; and was upright enough to be the same man which he professed to be. He possessed above most men, that which we call warm-heartedness and soul. On every object of his affections he poured a full tide of feeling, and made it dear to himself by the most sacred associ ations. That good round-about common sense, of which he thought so much, as entering into the very heart of the English character, be himself possessed in no ordinary degree; and we doubt not that all his domestic arrangements were after this wholesome taste. But we ask for no other proof that he was fitted for the highest enjoyment of domestic life, than is to be found in the character of his wife, drawn up by his own hand, and presented to her on the anniversary of their marriage. So full is it of the most ardent, yet sober, affection, and so overflowing with the most delicate compliments, that we hesitate whether most to admire the skill of the artist, or the beauty of the original from which he drew his portrait. Of his religious character we say nothing, because we have no right, and certainly have no desire, to pass upon it a decisive judgment. We should hardly expect him, under any supposition, to have conformed either in principles or in practice, to our own views of christian life and doctrine. But thus much we can say, and say too without hesitation,-he who will study his character and his writings" with an open and fearless spirit," will find nothing in either, which, rightly interpreted, will have any other tendency than to cherish and give strength to his own convictions of the truth of the grounds of the christian faith. Nay more, he will find much, that if read with a wish to be affected by it, as the author in all honesty desired to affect his readers, will give depth and ardor to bis feelings of attachment for her most holy cause. We make no

quotations from his works of a moral and religious nature. All that we would ask, is, that those of our readers who would satisfy themselves as to his claims in this respect, would study his writings in the spirit which produced them.

Such, we believe, is a true statement of the intellectual and personal character of this great man. Of his writings we have of necessity said many things in anticipation. Still it may not be amiss to attempt separately a brief estimate of their value, in reference to those ends which we originally proposed to ourselves as a standard in judging of his claims to our regard. Their great and prevailing characteristic is wisdom; or rather this may be said to be the spirit which breathes throughout every page, and bears a dis

tinct and permanent impression on the mind of every attenti reader. What we mean by the spirit of a man's writings, is, th impression of personal character, which, if he speaks in his ov name, is left upon us, as we are introduced in succession to t thoughts and feelings as they once came glowing from his ov mind. He who writes at all, if the nature of the subject and b object in treating of it render it possible, should leave such an in pression, that thus we may have before us the hearts of men; a may derive from their works the advantage of that kind of influen which results from personal attachment and acquaintance. Th Mr. Burke thus exhibited himself as a living man, every one w at once see. It is in his writings that we have studied his charad ter; and the greater part of what we have said, has been made u of conclusions drawn from this source. To the same sourc we would direct others, with this distinct purpose in view, the they may see reflected in them the man. The grand character istic of Mr. Burke they will find to be wisdom of the ancient and venerable sort; such as existed in the Jewish commonwealth among the Scottish peasantry, and the fathers of New-England It is that wisdom which is called stern, for the plain reason, that obedience to its precepts is not voluntary, or in Mr. Burke's own language, "Duty and will are ever contradictory terms.”

It is very much out of fashion, we know, to commend such works to the young; and we fear that it is quite as much so for mothers, even christian mothers, to charge upon their sons to read the Proverbs of Solomon, the king of Israel. Indeed, it would seem to be considered a matter of hopeless attainment, to expect that what is generous and amiable in the feelings of the young, can in any way be called out into those permanent habits, which constitute practical and dignified wisdom of character. Even their religion savors too little of simple and manly piety, shedding abroad the light of its unconscious dignity. We would hope, that the writings of Mr. Burke will tend to the removal of some of these now existing defects. These works are of permanent value especially to the youth of our country;-inasmuch as they will be likely to beget and cherish in them, plain sense, frank and manly feelings, and a reverence for true dignity and worth of character. These are objects which deserve the ardent and determined pursuit of all; and we would commend to every one who would aim at such attainments, the writings of a man who was enthusiastic in his estimation of these high qualities. It cannot be too often repeated, that it is not sufficient that the principles of a young man, or of any man should be correct, and his soul consecrated to the cause of God on the earth. His mental and moral habits, the disposition of his mind and feelings, his modes of thinking and acting;-all these influence beyond calculation, his personal happiness and his