The necessities of the annihilator are painful. His exegesis is often like dragging a tree top foremost. He now and then comes so near contradicting himself, that it amounts quite to this privilege of erratic, shall we add, unsettled mental action? Then, the thought skims off on a swallow-flight into a tenuous airiness, where it is impossible to grasp its shadowy form or spirit. Here is an instance of both. Encountering the fact of the "resurrection of the unjust" he writes "It is hard to believe that they are raised up by a miracle that ends in their destruction, or that accomplishes nothing but a judgment which in this view must appear simply vindictive. If they have no immortality why are their slumbers disturbed?" (D. and G. p. 263.) Wherefore, indeed? What then is the reply to this very sensible interrogatory? Something which we confess a want of perspicacity to see, even as a tree walking. "Now the Glad Tidings of the Redemption, quickening and invigorating the soul with new life, may so far repair the injury done it in the Fall, that even the unbelieving who derive many benefits therefrom in this life, may not altogether perish in the bodily death." (D. and G. pp. 263, 264.) Is this restorationism; or what is it thus resuscitating to a partial or perfect animation the almost drowned in that devouring flood of stagnant oblivion? We can find no intelligible answer. So far as the force of words extends, the position now taken holds substantially of that group of gospel representations which makes Christ the author of "eternal life." At the risk of being thought superficial or disrespectful (possibly both) we deem it enough to reply to "The Scriptural Argument for Immortality through Christ alone" that this phrase "eternal life" does not necessarily embrace the idea of imparting the principle of a continued existence. It is, on the contrary, the common term for a regenerate and sanctified state, as "death" denotes the condition of an unrenewed transgressor. To name the authorities which are with us here would be to catalogue the chief guides in sacred philology. The life thus spoken of finds accordingly a valid signification in the securing to men, through Christ's atonement and Spirit, a salvation from sin and woe. Eternal or everlasting life of which Jesus is the dispenser is an endless holiness and blessedness. This is his "unspeakable gift." To take the word life as signifying existence itself is neither grammatically demanded nor warranted. The relation of Christ to the fact of our eternal being is exactly taught us by the Apostle -that He brought life and immortality to light through the Gospel." He republished an obscured and fading truth; set it in an illumination where it could never more be eclipsed. He reaffirmed man's immortality, and disclosed therewith the only method of a holy and blessed life to those already endowed with this costliest of inheritances. "And this is life eternal, that they might know thee the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom thou hast sent." This experimental knowledge is the life thus eternal - an everlasting redemption, and reunion with God, from a doom of perpetual guilt and despair. Thus in Isaiah:-"By the knowledge of him shall my righteous servant justify many." Eternal justification is eternal life. So is "Christ our Life," beyond which sense no Scripture requires us to push its testimony. There is another thought just here protruding. Christ's proffered recovery to life only becomes ours as we freely accept its grace. If then the boon of endless being inheres in this grace, we have the power and the responsibility of making ourselves immortal- of literally "creating a soul under the ribs of death." An act of choice in us breathes a never-dying spirit into a mere perishable mould of clay. This does indeed fulfil the tempting promise of the serpent to our first mother; "ye shall be as gods"— investing us with truly deific functions. But again, the actually saved are virtually saved in the electing decree of God from before the foundation of the world. Can we avoid asking-whether their endowment with immortality dated at that pristine period, they thus being immortal from the first though not yet born or pardoned; and did they then, consequently, immortalize themselves? Or, is it at the moment of their regeneration that this gift is granted, so making the electing decree a very uninfluential transaction? The author is not successful in clearing these problems. The theory which challenges our faith to its dismal embraces is responsible for these queries, and for the palpable absurdities which they suggest. Our intention was neither a detailed review of the treatises indicated under the title of this article, nor an exhaustive discussion of the subject in hand; but rather a treatment of such prominent points of the doctrine of an endless life, by whomsoever and on whatever scale denied, as our limits might permit. We would ever handle a theme like this with proper seriousness, even when attempting to wring off the neck of fallacious and damaging errors. The denial of immortal being to a part alone is a less abhorrent idea than the promiscuous dying out or extinguishment of all human souls. Yet we regard the one as groundless as the other, and both to be utterly reprobated. It is strange to us that any one who knows what is the consciousness of a rational life should wish to throw into this "blooming world such an immeasurable grave-stone, that no time can lift.' One would think that the most zealous advocate of that nightmare-fantasy must confess with the yielding Carlson, in the beautiful colloquy of Jean Paul; "I can bear no annihilation but my own! My heart is of your opinion; my head will shortly follow." ARTICLE IV. THE PLACE OF ROMANCE IN LITERATURE. Ir is the object of this paper to show the place held by Romance in the general field of Literature, to point out, as far as may be, its distinguishing characteristics, the elements in our human nature of which it is the representative, and which are therefore the ground of its popularity. We shall find, if we succeed, an element of Romance, potential or real, in each individual, not less than in the collective life of humanity; the whole having the essential characteristics of the individual, only standing out in clearer view, and so becoming the proper object of scientific inquiry and investigation. The name Romance was originally applied to the literature of the languages derived from the Latin or Roman languages, and continued to be applied to literature of a similar character in subsequent times. The present popular sense of the word, as the fanciful, the imaginary, the visionary, and especially as applied to the schemes and expectations of young persons, is a wholly derived sense. It is, however, not less important, as revealing the fundamental principles which this form of literature recognizes. They correspond, in our individual life, to that peculiar state of intellectual and moral life which prevailed in the latter part of the Middle Ages, and which found expression in Romance. The most general division of Literature is into the literature of fact, and the literature of the imagination. To the first belong all works of history, science, and philosophy; to the second, all works of fiction, whether in prose or verse. Yet the distinction holds, in its strict sense, only on this wise. To the literature of fact belong only the simplest annals, narratives, historic records, and scientific observations; since the imagination enters largely into the construction of history, and has an important place in science and philosophy. In short, it comes into play the moment we pass beyond the pure outward fact and enter the sphere of ideas. It is essentially the organ of ideas, through which the scientific naturalist, like Owen, from a given part completes the whole of an organism no human eye has ever seen; or a Niebuhr, from a fragmentary record, a few scraps of ballad song, constructs the history of a nation; or a Prescott, or Motley, brings before us the scenes and the men of by-gone ages with all the freshness of the living present, and with a clearer conception of the ruling spirit of the men and their times. So to the literature of the imagination, strictly so called, we should assign only the works of pure fiction. And yet we find it no easy task to separate the elements of fact from the pure artistic creation. As Bayne somewhere suggests, it is no easy thing for the imagination to flap its wings in a vacuum. best works of the imagination have a basis of fact; even when its head is lost in the clouds, its feet rest upon and move along the solid earth. The epics of Homer and Virgil, the dramas The of Shakspeare, and the fictions of Scott, all have a basis in some historic fact, some fundamental law of human life and conduct. Poetry is but the idealization of the actual. The distinction we make, or attempt to make, in literature, is therefore quite imperfect, since the different elements mutually play into each other, and all the more as we ascend into its higher circles; in the literature of knowledge, to use De Quincey's phrase, the less so, but in the literature of power they are more completely fused and blended, like the prismatic colors in order to the pure white light. Yet, for convenience, we must make the distinction, according to the predominance of the one or the other element, of fact or of imagination; and, hence, though we must follow the usual division, and place Romance on the side of the literature of the imagination, we must not lose sight of the solid realities on which it rests. And here again we must distinguish between poetry and prose fiction; and between the literature of the imagination properly so called, and the literature of the fancy. We might also divide prose fiction into the Romance and the Novel. But first it seems necessary to consider the distinction made with reference to the faculties more immediately concerned, whether the imagination or the fancy. The imagination belongs to the sphere of ideas. A genuine work of the imagination is an organic whole, the embodiment of an idea; all its parts, even to the minutest detail, inspired, so to speak, and made vital by the informing principle, and so having a place in the whole. There is nothing accidental, nothing left to chance. There may be great freedom, as there always is in the expression of life; but, as in some of the Shakspearian dramas, every character introduced, every act exhibited, every word spoken, stands in relation to the whole, and is determined by laws as fixed as those regulating the growth of the plant, or any form of animal life. The highest exercise of the imagination, its loftiest flight, its greatest freedom, is still subject to law. As Allston says of Rubens,→ "His lawless style, from vain pretension free, |