THE SECOND GENERAL CONFERENCE. ABEL STEVENS, LL.D., Mamaroneck, N. Y. BUSHNELL'S VICARIOUS SACRIFICE.. Rev. C. H. FoWLER, B.D., Chicago, Ill. HERMENEUTICS AND HOMILETICS. [ARTICLE SECOND.]... 871 OCTOBER NUMBER. THE ORIGIN OF REVOLUTIONS IN PUBLIC OPINION.... E. O. HAVEN, D.D., LL.D., President of University of Michigan. ART. I.-OUR HISTORICAL POSITION AS INDICATED BY NATURE AND PHILOSOPHY.* ALL the progressive stages of creation were, but preparatory to its last and crowning act, the creation of man. To make ready his habitation for him, and adapt it to his physical, his intellectual, and his moral development, God patiently labored through countless ages in the mineral, the vegetable, and the animal kingdoms-in the sea and on the land; and has left, written on the pages of the great "stone-book" of nature, the hieroglyphic records of the magnitude of his labors. All the phenomena of matter, as well as the higher wonders of life, have their only significance as they contribute to man's advancement, and are subservient to his immortal destiny. On him all nature waits; for him the winds blow and the sun shines; for him the rain falls, and the grass grows, the flowers bloom, and the birds sing. It is but natural, then, to suppose that in the laws which guide the movements of these subordinate forms of creation, we might look for indications of the uniform course and higher tendencies of humanity, that the grand choral harmony of the spheres should be attuned in unison with the grander and more harmonious movement of human progress. Science is rapidly confirming these suggestions of intuition, and conclusively demonstrating the complete harmony between * It will be seen by several allusions it contains that the present article was written while the late rebellion was in full vigor. The lamented young author did not live to witness how well his predictions of the result would be verified.—ED. FOURTH SERIES, VOL. XVIII.-1 the course of nature and the course of history. There is nothing which it reveals more plainly than the uniform tendency of all the great movements of nature westward. For example, the electric forces generated in the crust of the earth by the rays of the sun in its daily course, flow in constant streams around it from east to west, making it a vast magnet, clothing it with vegetation, sustaining its animal life, and directing the course of human activity. The very winds of heaven, also, and the waves of the ocean, that seem to sport in such wild confusion about us, obedient to the omnipotence of law, unite in one steady, ever-flowing current, both of the air and of the ocean, that swells the sails of commerce, and carries civilization to the West. Reason would teach us that man was destined to follow this great highway, so distinctly marked out for him by the majestic movements of nature; and experience confirms the impressive lesson. History, from its first dawning in the East, has steadily held its course on toward its culmination in the West: the shadow has never gone back on that dial! When one nation after another has played out its part in the great drama—when it has personated the idea it was intended to represent in the scheme of Providence, and is no longer needed-its departing spirit ever finds its revival toward the West. Every people that has at any time represented the highest idea, that has embodied the last and best expression of humanity, has ever been found on the western border of advancing civilization. It was not, then, by the dictate of a wild fancy, but of a true inspiration, that the poet-philosopher, a century and a half ago, uttered that oft-repeated prophecy, which time has so amply fulfilled, "Westward the star of empire takes its way!" It is easy, then, to infer that the colonization that is to be successful in planting new principles and building new empires must go forward, not backward-toward the setting, not the rising, sun. So, too, we may see that Christianity, the reanimating spirit that is to breathe new life into the dead nations of the East, and make the dry bones live again, must come to them in the course of nature and on the track of commerce and civilization; and that, therefore, the missionary effort that will yet be most effective in revivifying the vast continent of Asia, must proceed from our western shores. We may also learn that when we, as a people, shall have proved false to our vocation or fulfilled it, the principles we represent will not die, even should we cease to exist as a nation. Stout hearts and strong arms will then be found to rescue our palladium from the ruins of our greatness, and bear it in safety to other shores, where its sacred influence will still guard the dearest interests of humanity. Thus shall civilization revisit the birth-place of our race, and on a higher level, and under brighter auspices, begin the cycle of history anew. Let us pause a while, if we can, amid the bewildering whirl of events, the clash of arms, and the mighty tread of armies that shakes the very continent, and calmly endeavor to trace the successive steps in this westward march of civilization, and see if, by the light of nature and the guidance of philosophy, we discover our true position in history, and learn what our mission as a nation is, what God means for us to do in this crisis, and what he means to do with us and for us as a people. History, some one has said, is but the biography of eminent individuals. This is true, inasmuch as the prominent men of any age or nation always embody the most striking characteristics of the individual life of the masses; they are the representative men, and stand for the people. History, then, is but the experience of the individual projected on a grander scale, and extending through centuries. The one contains no more elements than the other. The development of the race in history has no more stages than the gradual normal unfolding of each individual character in the short period of a human life. We may take man, then, as the microcosm, as the archetype, of society; as containing in himself the germ of all human history. The human mind, in its ultimate analysis, contains three great, original, innate ideas, and but three. All others are but modifications or developments of these three. They are first, the idea of the infinite; second, the idea of the finite; and third, the idea of the relation of the infinite to the finite. The first, the idea of the infinite, gives us by intuition our first conception of God as infinite power and goodness. It may be said to be the original image of God in the soul of man. The second, *Cousin. . the idea of the finite, gives to us our consciousness of ourselves and of the world about us; or, as the Germans say, the "me" and the "not me." The third and last, the idea of the relation of the infinite to the finite, teaches us the dependence of all finite existence on an infinite, overarching power, and shows us God manifest in his works and in the dealings of his providence. Though these three ideas always coexist in the mind, for the one always suggests the others, yet, in their development, the successive predominance of each over the others, marks three distinct periods in the history of the individual, as well as in that of the nation and of the race. These may be called, first, the religious or credulous period, corresponding to infancy and childhood; second, that of skepticism or inquiry, which marks the period of youth; third, the philosophical, or that of reason and faith combined, which belongs to the period of mature manhood. The child, in his uncorrupted innocence, is truly devout. His first dawning consciousness is that of a power above and beyond him, to which he instinctively bows in humble submission, and taught at his mother's knee, his first lisping accents go up in simple, but earnest prayer to God. His faith is unbounded. He worships and questions not. Truly the poet has said, "Heaven lies about us in our infancy;" but as truly, "Shades of the prison-house begin to close upon the growing boy." His first inevitable step forward brings the longing for freedom and knowledge. He would be "as gods, knowing good and evil." He plucks the forbidden fruit. He questions, doubts, disbelieves. Driven from the Eden of his innocence, he goes forth rejoicing in his liberty, with the world before him to conquer. Enraptured with the growing consciousness of his own intellectual powers, he forgets God. Exulting in his mastery over the powers of nature, he impiously banishes God from his own creation, and deifies reason and law in his stead, vainly fancying himself, the while, a philosopher! He is only a skeptic. But when this phase of his development, that of the idea of the finite, has run its course, and given him the knowledge of the true measure of his own powers and of the world about himwhen error and suffering have accomplished their true ministry, and done their perfect work, and the dry husks of skep |