up and take for granted, without specially enumerating them, all good moral principles and habits; yet nothing is more remarkable in Paul than the frequent, nay, incessant lists, in the most particular detail, of moral habits to be pursued and avoided. Lists of this sort might in a less sincere and profound writer be formal and wearisome; but to no attentive reader of St. Paul will they be wearisome, for in making them he touched the solid ground which was the basis of his religion, the solid ground of his hearty desire for righteousness and of his thorough conception of it, and only on such a ground was so strong a superstructure possible. The more one studies these lists, the more does their significance come out. To illustrate this, let anyone go through for himself the enumeration, too long to be quoted here, in the four last verses of the first chapter of the Epistle to the Romans, of things which are not convenient;' or let him merely consider with attention this catalogue, towards the end of the fifth chapter of the Epistle to the Galatians, of fruits of the spirit: love, joy, peace, long-suffering, kindness, goodness, faith, mildness, self-control.' The man who wrote with this searching minuteLess knew accurately what he meant by sin and righteousness, and did not use these words at random. His diligent comprehensiveness in his plan of duties is only less admirable than his diligent sincerity. The sterner virtues and the gentler, his conscience will not let him rest till he has embraced them all. In his deep resolve to make out by actual trial what is that good and perfect and acceptable will of God,' he goes back upon himself again and again, he marks a Christ's physical death and resurrection only in so far as that death and resurrection were specially representative of the spiritual renunciations and the spiritual transfigurations of which our Lord's whole life on earth was made up. -- But profoundly as we concur in this conception of St. Paul's ultimate thought, and of the meaning he attached to dying with Christ and rising again with Him, we are removed as far as possible from Mr. Arnold in our interpretation of the motive power by which, according to the apostle, the great revolution from a legal and virtually impossible righteousness of conscience, to the daily crucifixion of the flesh and daily resurrection to the love and joy and mildness and "sweet reasonableness" of Christ was to be accomplished. That motive-power, Mr. Arnold interprets him as meaning by as every one knows, St. Paul calls "faith." this, a power of steadfast attachment to the spirit visible in Christ's earthly life, a power of sympathy and emotion educed by the spectacle of that life. That St. Paul in various passages of his writings, identified Christ with the Word or Wisdom of God, and also with the expected Messiah of the Jewish dispensation, Mr. Arnold admits, but these views he regards as utterly nonessential in his thought. Had they been essential, St. Paul could not have had the same interest, he thinks, for modern feeling. tions are composed are such as science is "The very terms of which these proposiunable to handle. But that the Christ of the Bible follows the universal moral order and the will of God, without being let and hindered as we are by the motions of priNothing, too, can be truer than the em-vate passion and self-will, this is evident to phasis which Mr. Arnold lays on the spirit- whoever can read the Bible with open eyes. ualized sense in which St. Paul speaks of It is just what any criticism of the GospelChrist's death and resurrection, as referring history, which sees that history as it really not solely or chiefly to his physical death is, tells us; it is the scientific result of that and physical resurrection, but to that death history. And this is the result which preto sin, and resurrection to a divine right-eminently occupies Paul." And accordeousness, in which the apostle himself strove ingly, the motive-power to which St. Paul to participate daily, speaking of himself virtually looked for a reconciliation of man as dying daily with Christ, and daily rising with God is, according to Mr. Arnold, the with Christ to spiritual life. It is impossi- power of fast attachment" to an absent ble for us to render again Mr. Arnold's and unseen power of goodness which St. exposition, which on both these points is, in- Paul thought and spoke of- therein unfordeed, as admirable as possible; and nothing tunately limiting its real scope, as we uncan be more important for the understanding derstand Mr. Arnold -as a fast attachment of St. Paul than to remember that "dying to Christ. "It is evident that some diffito the anarchy of what St. Paul calls the flesh," by which he means all inordinate desire, and rising to that life above" where the heart is hidden with Christ in God," is a process which he conceived of as to be repeated every day in the long struggle for perfection, and as having reference to duty at every point of our nature, and at points the most opposite, for fear he should by possibility be leaving behind him some weakness still indulged, some subtle promptings to evil not yet brought into captivity." 66 culty arises," says Mr. Arnold, "out of Paul's adding to the general sense of the word faith-a holding fast to an unseen power of goodness a particular sense of his own, identification with Christ." And Mr. Arnold makes the three essential terms of the Pauline theology, not "calling, jus 66 tification, sanctification; " but "dying with ence emanating from God and transforming Christ, resurrection from the dead, growing man. "The endless words which Puritaninto Christ." But the peculiarity of our ism has wasted," he says, upon sanctifiauthor's view is that the true agent, in all cation, a magical filling with goodness and these spiritual processes, is thought of by holiness, flow from a mere mistake in transhim as the soul itself-its motive being its lating; ¿yiaσuós means consecration, a setown sympathy with spiritual life as exem-ting apart to holy service." Does it? Mr. plified in Christ, its own fast attachment to Arnold's distinction is of course between the the absent and unseen goodness as illustra-idea that a stream of influence flows from ted in that life. As we understand Mr. God, altering the inner life, and the idea of Arnold's interpretation, the whole concep- a mere dedication or setting apart to goodtion of St. Paul is psychological and subjec-ness, without reference to any positive tive, and not what we should call theologi- stream_of_external spiritual life. Well, cal at all. Mr. Arnold gives no importance when St. Paul speaks of Christ, "who of at all to the rapture of St. Paul's thankful- God is made unto us wisdom, and righteousness for the work of God and Christ on the ness, and sanctification, and redemption" soul, the power which made the weak (1 Cor. i. 30), is it possible to range with things of the world to confound the mighty," wisdom, and righteousness, and redempand the things which are not to bring to tion," which are either positive spiritual naught the things that are." He lays no qualities, or positive transforming instress on the exultation with which St. Paul fluences, a notion so negative as a mere even refuses to believe his life his own. "I"setting apart to holy service"? Is am crucified with Christ, nevertheless, I it possible to interpret the words of St. live, yet not 1, but Christ liveth in me." He John, "Sanctify them through Thy truth, appears to us to interpret even the exulting - Thy word is truth," and "For their sakes joy of such passages as the conclusion of I sanctify myself," as of a mere setting the eighth chapter of the Epistle to the Ro- apart to holy service, and not rather of a mans as referring to a love proceeding from positive imbuing and penetration with the us, instead of a love finding us and carry- divine life? To our minds, Mr. Arnold ing us away with it,-"I am persuaded wholly and fatally misinterprets St. Paul that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor when he subordinates the direct personal principalities, nor powers, nor things pres- agency of Christ, working in man the utent, nor things to come, nor height, nor most marvels of spiritual change, to a mere depth, nor any other creature, shall be able human attachment for "an absent and unto separate us from the love of God which is seen power of goodness." St. Paul's "faith" in Christ Jesus our Lord." If we understand is, we believe, a mere receptiveness, a wilMr. Arnold aright, he would say that lingness to receive this wonderful stream of "science" knows nothing and can know divine agency, a readiness to let it work nothing of St. Paul's spiritual recognition in us without active hindrance of ours,- is, of the personal agency of Christ as re- in short, far less "attachment " to Christ on vealed in him, that this is a question our side, than trust in the love of Christ for of ontology into which it is impossible us. Whether "science" can admit the to follow him, that all we can recognize validity of such a view or not, we are satisas scientific in St. Paul was his own love fied that if it cannot, it should deny all perof the righteousness of Christ, and his manent meaning to St. Paul's life and writyearning for a moral identification with the ings, with the remark, "So much the worse spirit of Christ's life. Even to St. Paul's for Paul; "- to which we should be disword "sanctification " Mr. Arnold denies, posed to reply that it would not be the first -imperiously, and to us unaccountably,-time that science has prided itself on its any implication of a divine stream of influ- nescience. AN account received from M. L. Carabelo of the reported fall of a large meteorite near Mour- | zouk, in the district of Fezzan, in lat. 26° N., and long. 12° E. of Paris. It fell on the evening of the 25th December last, in the form of a great globe of fire, measuring nearly a metre in diameter; on touching the earth it threw off strong sparks with a noise like the report of a pistol, and exhaled a peculiar odour. It fell near a group of Arabs, who were so much frightened by it that they "immediately discharged their guns at this incomprehensible monster." From Good Words. ALL the wonder in the skies To the wonder in the grass! And the fairy blossoms show O the joy that flowers give! Making earth so very fair! Kiss them with delighted lips; Love them while your heart is true; That which they can bring to you! Good Words for the Young. NOTHING. THERE is nothing to see! It is only a silver birch; But it comes like a beautiful joy to me, After a psalm in the church. It is so fair and light! It grows on a rock by a well! The rock is so strong and the birch is so slight, That they fill my heart with a strange delight, And I think they make a wonderful sight, Though why I can never tell! The rock I grasp and reach, And the birch-tree I cannot touch; The rock is strong and wild, So I nodded my little head and smiled, And the birch-tree murmured soft and mild, Why should this written be? And what have I got to tell? The wise, wise people will laugh at me, SONNET. A MARK IN TIME. I SEE a fair young couple in a wood, Recovered what the teeth of Time devour, Yet seek they with Time's laughing things to wed: Who will be prompted on some pallid day GOOD OLD SAXON. I LOVE the racy English of old times, Nor tamely o'er the tinkling harp-strings As though the spirit of their fathers slept, Or spoke in vowelled whispers among limes. Our native rough-hewn words are less inept Than daintier speech flung off in silver chimes. Our tongue should have a likeness to the land,— A smack of crag and torrent, tarn and glen, In nouns and verbs that shepherds understand, Meet for the use of hardy fighting men, Brief and sonorous, till we seem to stand And hear brave Geoffrey Chaucer rhyme again. St. Pauls. Public Opinion. TWO PICTURES. BY MARION DOUGLASS. AN old farm-house with meadows wide, From this dun spot the world to see, How happy I should be!" Amid the city's constant din, How happy I should be!" No. 1360.-June 25, 1870. CONTENTS. 1. THE ORIGIN OF THE ENGLISH NATION. III. . Macmillan's Magazine, 771 NUMBERS OF THE LIVING AGE WANTED. The publishers are in want of Nos. 1179 and 1180 (dated respectively Jan. 5th and Jan. 12th, 1867) of THE LIVING AGE. To subscribers, or others, who will do us the favor to send us either or both of those numbers, we will return an equivalent, either in our publications or in cash, until our wants are supplied. NEW BOOKS: SANCTUM SANCTORUM, or PROOF-SHEETS FROM AN EDITOR'S TABLE. By Theodore Tilton, Editor of The Independent. New York: Sheldon & Co. For sale in Boston by Henry A. Young & Co., 24 Cornhill. JUST PUBLISHED AT THIS OFFICE : CLEMENCE D'ORVILLE; or, From the Palace to the Steppe. A Novel of Russian High Life. And CLELIA, from Family Papers. Translated for, and first published in America in, THE LIVING AGE. One vol., price 38 cents. PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY BY LITTELL & GAY, BOSTON. FOR EIGHT DOLLARS, remitted directly to the Publishers, the LIVING AGE will be punctually forwarded for a year, free of postage. But we do not prepay postage on less than a year, nor where we have to pay commission for forwarding the money. Price of the First Series, in Cloth, 36 volumes, 90 dollars. Second " The Complete Work, Any Volume Bound, 3 dollars; Unbound, 2 dollars. The sets, or volumes, will be sent at the expense of the publishers. PREMIUMS FOR CLUBS. For 5 new subscribers ($40.), a sixth copy; or a set of HORNE'S INTRODUCTION TO THE BIBLE, unabridged, in 4 large volumes, cloth, price $10; or any 5 of the back volumes of the LIVING AGE, in numbers, price $10. She knelt on this, his mother on that side Stood, for at last his foolish quest he won; His mother, who that quest had long denied, Gazing with clasped hands on her only son, Thought, "After, a sweet life and free from care Is theirs." But who to praise a day shall dare, Or call it happy, ere that day be done? His arms shone rosy red, by that young light Which faintly through the latticed oriel fell Illumined round him many a storied fight Worked in old tapestry was there, to tell His father's fame in azure, green, and gold, Worked by small fingers, idle long and cold · As cold as those he clasped to say "Fare well." Thrice in the midst the sad sound broken As though some inner warning urged bear." Yet firm he thrust the oaken door aside, died, "For And firm he passed adown the winding stair, And firm he crossed the moat of widened eyes The mark, men bowed, and maids dropped cour tesies And so at last into the larger air. But then, "Alone," he cried, "at last alone!" green. And for that day he promised to return, And round the battlements the wind blew keen. Night, which makes glad the shepherd's heart was gone, And yet he came not; and dim morning rose, And yet she watched on that high tower alone For him, who, turning his brave breast to foes, Had turned his back on love, from stars to sun, And still from sun to stars; till one by one Her hopes fell like dead leaves at autumn's close. For she from prime to even-song had fed Imagined all, and to herself oft said, Hearing the distant murmur of the tide, The first faint flush of morning seemed to be "He comes!" and ere the lark had left the lea, The dear gleam of his arms so long denied. But on the path he trod tall grass shall grow, And flame shall freeze, and snow and ice shall burn, And midday heaven with myriad stars shall glow As in midnight, before he may return; His voice, who lies half hid by weeds and fern. Struck by the lightning's ruddy shaft he lies, While she waits for him; but his brows are cold. The moaning thunder in the distance dies, And birds again their woodland council hold; Churls leave their shelter under neighbouring trees, Comes summer murmuring once more of bees, Dank flowers their beauties to the sun unfold. Only the strongest oak, the tallest tree Throws out its wide arms to the winds no more; And under it, as motionless, lies he Who the red cross and snowy silk scarf bore. From time to time his furbished arms, which gleam Touched by the sunlight or the moon's white beam, Startle the hare which burrowed there before. JAMES MEW. |