ment, we apprehend, may be often explained by the distinction here pointed out. The great principle of moral law must be the same in every age and place, for the dictates of conscience are universal, and cannot be misunderstood. But doubts frequently arise when we come to apply these principles, and a faulty rule may easily grow out of a single erroneous application.

If this view of the nature and province of demonstrative reasoning be correct, the impossibility of applying it to prove the existence of a God is perfectly manifest. Every attempt of the sort will be found to establish, not a Being, but a principle; - not a particular fact, but a general truth. The name of the Supreme Being is often vaguely and erroneously applied, because his existence is a mystery, and his essence is unknown. Though it would be presumptuous to attempt a strict definition of the term, some applications of it are so evidently erroneous, that they may be rejected at once. The pantheist extends it to universal nature; the mystical philosopher refines it into an abstract idea. In this way, indeed, the great truth may be demonstrated by reasoning a priori; for we have intuitive evidence, that something exists, and, according to Spinoza, the being of a God includes all existence. All the great principles of morality are truths independent of all experience, and if these constitute a Deity, if his nature be limited to a few of its attributes, if the distinction between substance and accident be entirely done. away, then, indeed, the first theorem of Natural Theology becomes a self-evident proposition.

There cannot be a happier illustration of these remarks than is afforded by the first step in Clarke's celebrated argument a priori. The proof, briefly stated, is as follows. Space and time are alike infinite and necessary, for we cannot conceive of their limitation or their non-existence; they are not in themselves substances, but attributes, and as such necessarily presuppose a substance, without which they could not exist; and this substance is, consequently, infinite and self-existent. Now, the word substance, as here used, is entirely indefinite; the idea of it includes neither personality nor intelligence. The argument, at the utmost, proves only that something exists, and this something Clarke immediately assumes to be a particular Being. The sophism consists in this illogical transition from the general to the particular,

from the abstract to the concrete; and a more palpable one can hardly be imagined. Besides, the proposition, that space and time are attributes, if not wholly unintelligible, must be understood in the same sense, as the proposition that human beings exist in space and time. Finite space and time are qualities of man, in the same way that eternity and immensity are attributes of the Supreme Being. Now, human beings are not necessary or self-existent. If finite space and time do not necessitate a finite substance, so neither do the ideas of immensity or eternity compel us to believe in an infinite substance. The whole argument rests on abuse of language. Time and space are not attributes, but conditions of being. We cannot conceive of any thing, except as existent under these conditions; but we may conceive, that the conditions are fulfilled, while the reality is yet wanting. In Clarke's argument, the prerequisite is made to change places with the reality, or the thing conditioned. He infers the presence of the thing, from the fulfilment of the conditions, which is precisely inverting the two terms of the only legitimate inference.

The same argument assumes a more vague and mystical form in the hands of Cousin, who avoids the sophism, it is true, but jumps to the conclusion. Eternity and immensity are generalized by him, as both forms of the Infinite. The reality is then inferred from the idea, and the substance is avowedly swallowed up in the attribute. The absurdity of supposing that a thing exists, because we have an idea of it, can only be equalled by that of considering our imperfect notion of the Infinite as constituting the essence of the Divinity. Such are the fallacies into which men of acute and ingenious intellect are betrayed by the love of system, and the vain desire of setting forth their random speculations under the pompous garb of demonstrative reasoning.

The more judicious followers of Cousin put a gloss upon his argument, by which it is rendered more intelligible and less offensive. Their reasoning may be briefly stated as follows; All our perceptions relate to things which are known to be finite, limited, and contingent; such ideas necessarily suggest and force upon the mind the correlative conception of something that is Infinite, Absolute, and Necessary. In the same way that the former class of ideas is accompanied with an irresistible conviction, that something exists to which they correspond, so those of the latter class

compel us to believe, that there is a Being, who is clothed with these attributes, and manifests himself in this form to the human soul. It is evident, that this argument is overstated; for, if it were correct, it would be quite as difficult to doubt the being of a God, as to question the reality of our own existence. In consciousness there is direct evidence of the existence of self, and perception gives immediate witness of the reality of an outward world. The knowledge of the true nature of both these objects of thought, as finite and limited, is subsequent to our recognition of them as realities. In the other case, the idea of the quality suggests the object to which it belongs, but this suggestion alone can never be made the basis of absolute conviction. This is one mode of explaining the origin, or first developement, of the religious principle in the soul, but it does not prove the existence of that Being, to whom religious feelings are directed. It is like the argument for immortality founded on the boundless aspirations of the spirit of man ;-a consideration, certainly, of some weight, but one that would give little confidence, if other proofs were wanting.

There is but one other form of stating this argument, that now claims attention. It is that by Descartes, Descartes, whose speculative and systematizing spirit made him far more anxious to round off his own theories, than to establish any truth in natural religion. The argument a priori in his hands is a mere brick in his philosophical edifice. We give the heads of it at some length; for, though frequently appealed to, we have seen no clear account and criticism of it in any publication of recent date. It is introduced at that stage of his inquiries, when, having commenced with doubting every thing, he had as yet proved only the existence of himself, and the presence of ideas to his mind.

Whence these ideas proceed, argues Descartes, - whether any prototype or cause of them exists in the outward world,is another question, with which at present we have nothing to do. But whether I dream or wake, the reality of the ideas themselves, considered simply as objects present to the mind, is unquestionable. Now it is evident, that a cause must have at least as much force and reality as its effect. For how can it create or bestow that which it has not in itself? The ideas in my mind are images or pictures, which may want something of the perfection that is in their archetype, but

cannot go beyond the magnitude and excellence of their cause. Among other ideas in the mind, I find one of the Deity, understanding thereby an infinite and independent Being, the highest Intelligence, the Omnipotent cause of all things. The more this notion is examined, the more evident it is, that it does not proceed from me alone, that it is not the mere offspring of my imagination. Therefore, God necessarily exists; for the idea of an infinite being cannot be created by me, who am finite, but it must proceed from some other substance, which is itself infinite. It cannot be objected to this argument, that the Infinite is not perceived by a positive idea, but only through a negation of the Finite, just as I conceive of rest and darkness through a negation of motion and light. For there is more reality in an infinite substance, than in a finite one, and the knowledge of the former is prior in time to that of the latter;—that is, I have an idea of God, before I have one of myself. The acknowledgment of a want and the sense of imperfection can proceed only from the idea of a more perfect being, by comparison with whom I perceive my own defects.

It only remains, therefore, to inquire how this idea of God was obtained. It came not from the senses, for it did not rise unexpectedly, creating a feeling of surprise, as the ideas of external things do, when they strike upon the organs of perception for the first time. Nor was it made by my own agency, for I can neither enlarge nor diminish it. It is infinite, and therefore cannot be increased. An idea of perfection cannot be lessened, except only by removing it, and substituting another in its place. As the idea, then, had not its origin from the senses, and is not factitious, it must be innate ; it bears the artificer's own stamp, put upon his work to show who made it. In fine, "when I turn my attention within, I perceive that I am a being incomplete, dependent upon another, and reaching after something higher and better than my present state; and that He, on whom I depend, enjoys all the perfections towards which I aspire,-enjoys them not merely potentially and to an indefinite extent, but in very truth and in an infinite degree. My nature could not be what it is, that is, it could not possess this innate conception of the Deity, unless he actually existed, and possessed all those attributes, which my thoughts can in nowise picture forth, or comprehend, and marked by no defects." Nothing

can be an attribute of the Divine nature, which implies limit or imperfection. Now, all fraud or violation of confidence proceeds from some moral defect. Consequently, we owe implicit faith to the testimony of those faculties, with which our Maker has endowed us, since he is a Being of perfect veracity, and cannot wilfully deceive. Thus, by contemplating the nature of the Deity, we rise from skepticism to a system of sure and well-grounded belief.

This sketch is sufficient to show, that Descartes used the great doctrine of natural theology only as a stepping-stone in his philosophical inquiries, as a means of accrediting the human faculties, and thereby of rising from universal doubt to a confident anticipation of success in the search after truth. The peculiarities of the argument, also, may be traced to the use which the author intended to make of it; for he could not avail himself of any evidence from the external world, nor rest his proof upon any preëstablished fact or principle, except that of his own existence and the presence of ideas to his mind. To reason from final causes, would expose him to the charge of first appealing to the divine attributes in proof of the authority of his faculties, and then of appealing to these faculties in proof of the existence of a God. He flattered himself, that the reasoning was wholly a priori, and that it amounted to a perfect demonstration of the doctrine. As such it was generally received by the eminent men of his time, and even Locke ventured to express his dissent only in a cautious and guarded manner. As in all other instances, in the "Essay," of controverting the doctrines of Descartes, he does not mention their author, not caring to appear openly as the opponent of a writer, whose authority stood so high in the philosophical world. "How far the idea of a most perfect being," he remarks, "which a man may frame in his mind, does or does not prove the existence of a God, I will not here examine. For, in the different make of men's tempers and application of their thoughts, some arguments prevail more on one, and some on another, for the confirmation of the same truth. But yet, I think, this I may say, that it is an ill way of establishing this truth, and silencing atheists, to lay the whole stress of so important a point as this upon that sole foundation; and to take some men's having that idea of God in their minds (for it is evident some men have none, and some worse than none, and the most