cheerful amidst crumbling creeds and the general falling to pieces of old beliefs, and addresses himself with a light heart to the task of re-stating the great questions concerning God and man. Seeing that "our popular theology gives us (we are sorry for the language we have to quote, but it will show the author's complete emancipation from the conventional) a patch-work God, an artificial Christ, and a scheme of redemption irreconcilable with any intelligent theory of either God or Christ," it is time that all this should be set to rights. We want to know, "not what the clergy can twist out of the Bible about God—not what they have voted God to be in seminaries, textbooks, and Church Councils-but what is God." Fortunately Mr. Haweis is equal to this and much more. With the help of Mr. Matthew Arnold, he guides us to the infinitely cheering conclusion that God is, in relation to physical law, "a stream of tendency;" in relation to moral law, "a Power that makes for righteousness;" and, to complete the definition, there is the " sympathetic element in God," which he ventures to call" His minor personality." Perhaps we do not feel much nearer to the central meaning of things than before, and have some lingering preference for the old dogmas on which Mr. Haweis is so very severe, preferring them, it may be, in our miserable blindness, to the new ones, although they do date from the dark times before "Mr. Arnold had pointed out a sure basis for a definition of God." Well, he tries again, and surely we must be hard to please if he cannot help us this time, for, turning his back on Church Councils and the like, he will re-state the doctrines of the Trinity and original sin in a pleasant, off hand manner, showing how "new life may be poured into the Articles by the rational method of treating them." He first of all takes the Prayer-book, and reads Article No. I., "Of Faith in the Holy Trinity," making this humorous little comment upon it: "There was, no doubt, some powerful meaning intended by the framers of this Article, which to them did not seem opposed to common sense. But they have not, as far as I can see, been fortunate in their attempt to hand that meaning down to Mr. Haweis believes it is possible so to re-state the doctrine of the Trinity as to clear away the difficulties which in its usual form it presents to the human understanding in the nineteenth century. "And," says he, "I will try to do it." As for the first great difficulty, the conception of three in one, there is nothing surely in that; "you, as you live, and move, and have your being, you are a Trinity in Unity," that is, body, soul, and spirit, and "when you once grasp the central principle of variety in unity, when you survey the vast array of facts in the known universe-facts in the animal kingdom, facts in the life of communities, facts involved in the very constitution of the human creature, body, mind, and spirit-I say the doctrine of God's Trinity in Unity presents no difficulties at all." Nor is there any difficulty further on, if you will only throw the antiquated formularies on one side and follow the author.." Our first idea of God is that of a vast, co-ordinating, perhaps impersonal, force. . . we mean that unknown something which was the original inspirational ground of

us.

being. Well, let us suppose that to be our first rough notion of God— God, in the widest sense, the Father." Next, " man seeks God, and feels that He is not far off, but near; and in that moment when this impulse, intuition, consciousness, call it what you will, is upon him, what happens? Why, 'you conceive God under the limitation of humanity. And thus God comes before you under a secondary aspect, cast in the form and found in the fashion of a man. If we had no historical Christ at all... we should be obliged to make a Christ, because our mind incarnates God in the form of Christ irresistibly and inevitably. And such a Christ, whether ideal or historical, will be God the Son." But how shall you get refreshment from the presence of God? 66 'By an effluence, like that of radiance from flame, by the Spirit that comes forth from the Father and the Son-an effluence going into the soul, just as my thought pierces your brain, just as the feeling of human tenderness pierces your heart, subdues you, encircles you, melts you. So His radiant Spirit-effluence subdues, and pierces, and melts. And that is the Holy Ghost." We are lost in curious speculation respecting the order of mind that can be satisfied with such poverty-stricken extemporising as this. Once more it is the offer of "new lamps in exchange for old ones;" but it must be a darklantern indeed that one would barter for such means of illumination. We do not know how to state precisely the relative proportions of candour and conceit shown in these discourses. Perhaps the best way of putting it is, that the conceit is very candid, and the candour very conceited. Witness, the following passage from a discourse "On the Character of Christianity:"-" What are we to think of Jesus Christ's miracles? Well, they are simply questions of historical evidence. You know a great many educated men think that the miracles were no miracles at all; that they either never took place at all, or that they did not take place as they are reported to have taken place; in fact, a great many thoughtful persons in their hearts accept the moral teaching of Christ, but reject the miracles. These people probably call themselves Unitarians, or are favoured by some other appropriate nickname by their friends. I confess, my brethren, I once thought that there was a great deal to be said for this view of the question; but I will not disguise from ou the fact that as I have grown more mature, and weighed a greater number of facts, I am far from being of opinion that this view about the miracles of Jesus Christ is the correct view, viz. that they never happened at all." In taking leave of Mr. Haweis, we may express the friendly wish that before we meet him again as a religious teacher, he may have grown even more mature," and weighed a still "greater number of facts," and, amongst other things, may have ceased to believe that a willingness to consider everything an open question is the best characteristic of a religious mind.

66

Septimius: a Romance. By Nathaniel Hawthorne. London: Henry S. King and Co. 1872.

THERE is something pathetic in the fact that Hawthorne's last work, a story left unfinished at his death, is a romance of Immortality. Septimius is a young New Englander, a student, supposed to be preparing for the ministry, but loosing from his belief and drifting nowhere precisely, until he is grasped in a strange manner by the metaphysical problems of man's being. His thought and imagination settle morbidly upon the mystery of death, which vexes him as an anomaly, an abrupt, inconsequent ending of things for man, to which he cannot reconcile himself. Future life does not redress the problem: indefinite prolongation of this life is what he wants, and aims at having, by means that come to him in vague, shadowy suggestions, and glimmer just beyond his horizon, refusing to reveal themselves more clearly. He quarrels with Providence, and resents life on its present terms. "I doubt, if it had been left to my choice, whether I would have taken existence on such terms; so much trouble of preparation to live, and then no life at all; a ponderous beginning, and nothing. more. . . . How is this rich world thrown away upon us, because we live in it such a moment! What mortal work has ever been done since the world began? because we have no time. No lesson is taught. We are snatched away from our study before we have learned the alphabet, as the world now exists. I confess it to you frankly, my dear pastor and instructor, it seems to me all a failure, because we do not live long enough." Those who are acquainted with Hawthorne's peculiar power will be prepared for his weird and subtle portraiture. of this passionate dreamer. The instinct of an undying principle within us is exhibited, making the profound mistake of interpreting itself into a promise, not of spiritual immortality, but of "the life that now is" drawn out for ever. At times we detect a trace of wistfulness, a sigh of regret coming as it were through the fantastic argument that Septimius is ever building up, but, for the most part, the reproof and antidote closely underly. it, conveyed in scarce distinguishable irony, or even in humour that lets a half-sad smile break upon its face at last. The rules for long life which Septimius deciphers from an old manuscript are of this latter sort.

"Do some decent degree of good and kindness in thy daily life, for the result is a slight pleasurable sense that will seem to warm and delectate thee with felicitous self-laudation; and all that brings thy thoughts to thyself tends to invigorate that central principle by the growth of which thou art to give thyself indefinite life. . . . From sick people, maimed wretches, afflicted people-all of whom show themselves at variance with things as they should be-from people beyond their wits, from people in a melancholic mood, from people in extravagant joy, from teething children, from dead corpses, turn away thine eyes and depart elsewhere.

... Say thy prayers at bed-time, if thou deemest it will give

thee quieter sleep; yet let it not trouble thee if thou forgettest them." The story hovers for a long time on the borders of the supernatural, and we are led to think that the elixir of life which Septimius has all but discovered will yield itself to him at last, though at some price that shall defeat his hopes. But on the threshold of the marvellous, and with a fine glamour enveloping the narrative, the supernatural element disappears, and the cold, pure, shining liquid, distilled in mystic fashion from many a rare plant, is no water of life, but a deadly poison, which Sybil Dacy drinks and dies, leaving Septimius crushed and bewildered by the failure of his dream. We have said that this story was left unfinished. The reader will find Hawthorne's memoranda of alterations and details to be worked out enclosed in brackets. In the middle of the story the lady with whom Septimius is in love becomes his half-sister. In an ordinary tale such a change would greatly disconcert the course of things, but it does not much matter here. The interest centres in Septimius and his day dream, to which the author's rare subtleness of intellect and charm of style give an interest that makes the imperfections of the narrative of very little moment.

The Wesley Tune Book. Revised and Edited by Henry Miles, Mus. Doc. London: Novello, Ewer and Co. Manchester Thos. J. Day.

:

THIS is one of the best collections of hymn-tunes we have seen, and for the special object aimed at, beyond doubt the very best. The tunes have been selected with reference to the Wesleyan Hymn Book and the requirements of Methodist worship, with a more satisfactory result than has been attained before. We find the traditions of the past represented by the best tunes of the old masters, and by a few which, although rigorous theory would have excluded them, must be considered as having earned their right to honourable recognition. It is impossible for the most devoted admirer of old ways to ignore the recent additions to our resources in the way of psalmody; but, on the other hand, it is to be hoped that organists and choir masters will not merely follow the latest fashion of the hour, to the disparagement and neglect of the wealth of psalmody that has been growing for centuries. The compilers of the Wesley Tune Book appear to us to have dealt wisely in this matter, and the congregation that fairly uses it will not be adopting the music of a school or sect, but of the best composers ancient and modern. Special attention has been given to the "peculiar metres," of which there are so many in the Wesleyan Hymn Book,-hymns that rank high for devotional and poetic merit, but seldom sung in public for want of suitable tunes. For these Dr. Hiles and Dr. Gauntlett have written several new tunes, which we commend to the notice of musical amateurs. Our only misgiving is lest they be too good,-in the sense at least of requiring a general standard of musical taste and intelligence not to be found,

we fear, in many congregations. Dr. Hiles has done his work as editor with his usual accuracy and elegance. We should have noticed this Tune Book on its appearance, six months ago: by our delay in doing so we are enabled to add that a second edition has been already called for.

Hermann Agha: an Eastern Narrative. By W. Gifford Palgrave, Author of "Travels in Central Arabia," &c. Two Volumes. London: Henry S. King and Co. 1872. THIS is a pure and beautiful story, told with much skill and equal tact and delicacy. It is chaste in conception, in style, and in diction. Its descriptions are simple; its adornments elegant. The story has the great charm of translating us from the drear and exhausted region of ordinary fictional writing to the freshness and novelty of the East. The difficult task of casting Eastern modes of thought and life into our Western moulds is well executed. We have a vivid and accurate, if limited, picture of the conditions of Arab life; enriched with the sparkle of many an Arab proverb. It is singularly free from exaggeration in either plot or sentiment. So long as fiction is used to adorn fact, this "Eastern Narrative" will deserve a place amongst the better examples of that class of writing.

Western India, before and during the Mutiny: Pictures drawn from Life. By Major-General Sir George Le Grand Jacob, K.C.S.I., C.B., late Special Political Commissioner, Southern Mahratta Country, &c. London: Henry S. King & Co. 1871.

BRIEF, sketchy records of an eventful period of India's history; giving an insight into peculiar customs, and Native and European intrigues. A growl of complaining against authorities is not entirely suppressed; paths of reform are indicated; and a few thrilling scenes fairly depicted.

A Voice from the Back Pews to the Pulpit and Front Seats, in answer to "What think ye of Christ?" By a Back PewLondon: Longmans. 1872.

man.

A COARSE ill-conditioned attack on Christian doctrine. The writer makes great parade of straightforwardness and simplicity, but is evidently self-sufficient enough. He caricatures with a free hand the doctrines he rejects, and shrinks from nothing in the way of irreverent language. "The Creed doctrine of the Atonement makes Christ a beast, or a substitute for a beast." It is not pleasant to linger over this book, nor would it be profitable to reply to it. We trust this short notice will not retard by a day the oblivion that awaits it.