will be excluded, and his fervent, holy love become the great and only motive of action. Facts of this kind certainly occur in the history of God's people. In how many instances are Christians, at the commencement of their course, and afterwards, conscious of loving God and rejoicing in his government, without any reference in their thoughts to their own interests, temporal or eternal? And is not such pure love to God, such a rising above private interest, and such annihilation of self generally regarded as among the clearest marks of holiness, and as what may be expected to exist in proportion to the measure of sanctification? The unregenerate are "lovers of themselves." They have no moral affection of a higher character than self-love. But can it be the same with those who bear the image of Christ? Is there no object in the universe which they love, except in subserviency to their own personal welfare? Is all duty performed by saints and angels from that one principle? To suppose this seems to me as unphilosophical and untrue, as to suppose that all the operations in the natural world are to be traced to the power of steam, or to electricity. True philosophy leads us to account for the phenomena in the natural world by a great variety of principles or laws, many of which are entirely distinct from each other. And why should it not lead us to do the same in the moral world, and to trace the actions of intelligent, moral beings, to all that variety of principles or motives, from which they evidently result? Why should we refuse to admit what is so manifest, that a variety of causes or springs of action as really exist and operate in the world of mind, as in the world of matter?

REPLY TO "INQUIRER."*

THE writer, whose questions and remarks I shall now consider, conceals his name, and calls himself "Inquirer. " He doubtless has sufficient reasons for writing anonymously. But what weight is there in the reasons which he suggests in his "Apology?" He thinks he may be allowed to conceal his name, because he does not come forward as a teacher, but as a learner. But why is it less proper for one, who presents himself before the public as an "Inquirer" and learner, to make known his real name, than for one who presents himself as a teacher? It is certainly very honorable for a man to "take the attitude of a learner;" especially if, in that modest attitude, he manifests high intellectual attainments, and gives his readers reason to think that he is able to teach as well as to learn.

But I have no disposition to complain of "Inquirer," for not giving his name to the public. Nor will I evade the task of answering his inquiries because he writes anonymously. As the questions are important, I will seriously attend to them, without being anxious to know from whom they come. I am very willing to converse with persons behind the curtain, whose words I hear, but whose faces I have not the pleasure to see, on condition that they treat subjects with propriety, and show by their words, that they are worthy of respect, as the two anonymous writers do, with whom I am concerned in these discussions. After all, it must seem rather singular for me, in my own name, to be publicly discussing subjects with two writers, possessed of no ordinary powers of mind, but who conceal their names. I however make no objection. Still one in my case cannot be quite certain how the thing will end. If I should commit mistakes, or if I should be unsuc

* First published in the Am. Bib. Repos., 1840 and 1841, in reply to "Inquirer,” April, 1840.

cessful in my efforts, and so expose myself to shame, I might wish I had done as others have done, and wisely availed myself of the benefit of concealment. On the other hand, if my respected, but anonymous friends find, as they may, that they have escaped the hazards of authorship, and have gained honor to themselves by their anonymous publications; it will be easy for them to prevent mistakes and to let the world know to whom the honor belongs.

It is well understood, how much more difficult it is to answer questions, than it is to ask them. And what if I should think it best, by and by, to invert the present order, and to take upon myself, as I have a right to do, the humbler and easier task of asking questions, and to transfer to "Inquirer," the more honorable and difficult task of answering them? And if a man of such obvious and eminent characteristics as he possesses, should proceed a little further in laying open his mind, and should be as free in answering as he has been in asking questions, he might perhaps make himself sufficiently known without the form of giving his name.

"Inquirer" says, he finds "difficulties in most of the systems of mental philosophy" which he reads. It is implied, that he does not find difficulties in all of them; that there is at least some one system, in which he finds no difficulties. I would then at once "take the attitude of a learner," and ask him what that system is. To me all systems of mental philosophy have had their difficulties. I have not been able to fix upon any system, however well supported by argument, against which speculative objections and difficulties could not be urged. And if I had refused to believe every truth, or system of truths, which was exposed to difficulties that I could not fully obviate, I should have believed nothing. If, however, "Inquirer" has found a system which is encumbered with no difficulties, as his expression seems to imply, he will confer a great favor on me, and on many others, by making us acquainted with it. But, for the present, I am fully convinced, that the only safe and proper way is, to believe that which is proved by sufficient evidence, especially by Scripture evidence, whatever speculative difficulties may attend it. If our faith

in divine truth is shaken, if it in the least degree wavers, on account of insolvable difficulties, we shall suffer a loss that cannot be measured.

But what "Inquirer" says afterwards, shows that we may have mistaken his meaning, and that he did not intend to signify that he was acquainted with any system of mental philosophy which is free from difficulties. For he says, distinctly, that he has not found "terra firma extensive enough to choose his dwelling-place;" and he is looking for "new treatises," making improvements upon all the old systems. He shows a commendable zeal for the advancement of mental science, and thinks "it is time that more were said and done in relation to this great subject." With a little modification my opinion coincides with his. I would say, "it is time that more," or less, 66 were said and done." On this subject, especially, smattering is to be deprecated. "Drink deep, or taste not."

Inquirer" says, he never can love dispute, until he has "a new taste," and speaks of this as my philosophical word. I was somewhat surprised that he should call the word taste, used metaphorically in relation to the mind, a philosophical word. For I supposed that the precision required in philosophical discourse led philosophers, as far as possible, to avoid metaphorical words. Figurative language is most freely used in poetry, eloquence and common discourse. The analogy between taste in the literal sense, and an inclination or desire of the mind, is very obvious; and accordingly the word has been very frequently used to express such an inclination or desire. It is a just and striking figure, not a philosophical term. But if it were a philosophical word, I know not why he should call it mine, as though I had invented it, or as though I used it more than others. The word has been familiarly used by the best English writers, and by the standard divines of New England. This I might easily show. But I shall content myself with citing a single passage from a recent and well-known writer, the Rev. Moses Stuart, my respected colleague. Speaking of infants, he says: "To enjoy the sacred pleasures of that place," (heaven,) "there must be a positive taste for them. If now infants

are saved, (which I do hope and trust is the case,) then there must be such a relish implanted in their souls for the holy joys of heaven. Is there nothing, then, which Christ by his Spirit can do for them, in imparting such a taste?*

One word more by way of introduction. My own experience has taught me, that there are many and very stubborn difficulties hanging around the subject before us, whenever contemplated in a speculative and theoretic manner. To untie all the knots which can be untied, and to determine clearly those which cannot, is no easy task. Whoever attempts to do this-whoever undertakes to answer the hardest questions, which the most powerful intellect can propose on this hardest of all subjects, ought to have time and space given him, and to be treated with a good measure of patience and candid allowance by his readers.

The first topic which "Inquirer" introduces, relates to the sinner's inability. He refers to my question respecting one who is unregenerate. "While he remains in his natural state, can he, by the power of his will, prevent it," (i. e. the feeling of enmity,) "and call forth the affection of love, and so be subject to the law of God?" This question he rightly understands as implying that the sinner cannot do this. The difficulties which he suggests in relation to this subject, may be summed up in the single question, What is the sense of the words "can" and "cannot," as here vsed?

I must begin my remarks by saying, that I feel utterly unable to do anything which can be satisfactory to "Inquirer" unless he admits the distinction so often made by distinguished writers between the different senses in which the words can and cannot are used. That they are used in senses which are essentially different from each other, is manifest. If we can satisfy ourselves what these senses are, and then determine definitely which of them is to be given to the words when used in relation to the present subject, we shall have a prospect of arriving at a just conclusion.

Commentary on Romans, Edit. 1832, Excursus IV. p. 549.