but in harvest they assume a vastly greater consequence. They then not only show their real nature, but also show that as the oak lies in the acorn, so lies the character enfolded in the thought. Within the soul, as in all other realms, the natural tendency continually goes on; the leaven is at work producing its effects; thought and principles are moulding character and giving tone to life and action.

He who in early life forms high resolves and holy purposes, and steadfastly pursues them, will shed a balmy, blessed influence all along his way, and his day will close with the beautiful, inspiring light of a calm, glorious sunset. But by what art or magic, shall he who follows an entirely different career, avoid exerting a different influence and reaching a different earthly end? The lives of men are but the unfolding of the principles they cherish. The lives of the illustrious good show the blooming and the fruit of one set of principles; those of the notoriously evil, are but the full development of other thoughts and feelings. Who can read of the early truthfulness of Washington, and of the purity of the young Channing, then trace the noble deeds and sacred influence of their after lives, without almost visibly beholding the operations of this beneficent and equitable law. How little did they dream when thus early walking in the ways of wisdom and consecrating their powers to truth and duty, how wide would be their fame; how many minds would study their characters and deeds, and bow in silent reverence before their moral greatness! So, too, of those whose names are dyed in crimson-whose memories are stained with infamy. How little thought they when commencing their career, that they were taking burning embers to their bosoms, and that their secret purposes should yet be blazoned on their brows, and branded by the ages as infamous and loathsome! Could they not keep their secrets? What eye had power to look into their souls, and scan their silent workings? Had they not a small dominion all entirely their own, where thoughts of crime could be revolved and evil purposes matured, without being seen by lurking spies, or traced by Heaven's police! What if they had? Did that prevent the certain tendency of those hidden thoughts, those meditations carefully con

cealed, to a revelation of their real nature? and, what is a still greater evil, to a transformation of the soul into their own moral likeness? If the soul could keep its leading principles a secret, it could not prevent their influence upon its character and destiny. But it cannot even keep them. They peep out through its windows; they are written on the character and published by the conduct; the life is moulded by them, and a thousand agencies help on their manifestation. The young man may step behind the curtain which shall screen him from all human eyes, to sip the sparkling wine. But his flushed cheeks, his reddening eyes, his foetid breath and his degenerating habits, will eventually betray his folly. But if he cheats the world, he cannot baffle nature. She will not be abused for nought. She will protest; she will put forth her signals; she will tell the world her wrongs; and, sooner or later, bring down the thong of vengeance upon the soul that dare insult her. She will stamp your folly on the brow, and babble all your secrets. She will spot you with the leprosy of your transgression, and it shall rust and canker into your very soul. But the soul of goodness shall look up with a clear eye, and countenance serene, even as while Jesus "prayed, the fashion of his countenance was altered." Virtue ennobles, vice degrades the habits, character and looks; and through these do they get published to the world. And if every secret is not told, every action does react upon the soul-every vice is punished, every virtue is rewarded, in silence, but with certainty. He who sins for satisfaction will ultimately have a price to pay for all he gains, all he thus enjoys. For accumulated vices it is a fearful reckoning; and the law is certain and eternal. No shrewdness can evade it, and there is no discount. As the wise man says of death: "there is no discharge in that war." As sure as nature has a law, she claims a price for all man's recklessness and revelry, as much as for his nobleness and joy. Souls gravitate as well as matter. Mind, like

water, rushes to its level. All souls are hastening to their own place; and in the great scale of being all have just weight and measure, and stand at precisely what they

are.

Says the Plato of the present: "Life invests itself with

inevitable conditions, which the unwise seek to dodge, which one and another brags that he does not know; that they do not touch him; but while the brag is on his lips, the conditions are in his soul. If he escapes them in one part, they attack him in another more vital part. If he has escaped them in form, and in the appearance, it is because he has resisted his life, and fled from himself, and the retribution is so much death. So signal is the failure of all attempts to make this separation of good from the tax, that the experiment would not be tried if men were not deluded. ... We feel defrauded of the retribution due to evil acts, because the criminal adheres to his vice and contumacy, and does not come to a crisis or judgment any where in visible nature. There is no stunning confutation of his nonsense before men and angels. But has he therefore outwitted the law? Nay, inasmuch as he carries the malignity and the lie with him, he so far deceases from nature. How secret,' says St. Augustine, 'how secret art thou who dwellest in the highest heavens in silence, O thou only great God, sprinkling with an unwearied providence certain penal blindnesses upon such as have unbridled desires.'. . . . There is no penalty to virtue; no penalty to wisdom; they are the proper additions of being. In a virtuous action, I properly am; in a virtuous act I add to the world; I plant into deserts conquered from Chaos and Nothing, and see the darkness receding on the limits of the horizon. . . . . All the good of Nature is the soul's, and may be had, if paid for in nature's lawful coin, that is, by labor which the heart and head allow."1

The laws of nature centre in the bosom of her Author, but reach forth, for protection and for retribution, to the last and least object of his creative power. The same law which is the guardian of angelic peace, reaches in its beneficence to men, and offers its heavenly benedictions to whatever soul will range itself in harmony with its design. It says, What wilt thou ?-pay for it and take it. Be great, and wise, and happy as you will; but begin by being manly, asking only what you earn." But a fullorbed life you cannot have, without accordance with that perfect law, whose voice is the harmony of the world.

"

1 R. W. Emerson.

In some domestic circles everlasting discords and disorder jar, marring all life and beauty; while in others, harmony and peace prevail. In one, opposing interests and sentiments clash in confusion, because they are not subject to any supreme law; in the other, shines the light of love, and its strong power binds all interests and hearts in one. Even so it is in individual souls. In those which have enthroned the supreme law, passions, and loves, and hopes, all play in harmony and peace; while souls with sentiments ill-poised, are ever swinging from their proper orbits, and meeting in collision.

The highest principle of action of which a person can conceive, is the best one to adopt. Our highest moods of mind are always truest, most in harmony with nature's law. She does not require us to fret, but, like herself, to be serene, self-poised, faithful in our sphere, and confident of a suitable success. She is as free with her best treas. ures as of her meaner qualities. Take all to which you can present a title. Fix your own estimates with reference to deserts, and nature and the world will acquiesce. They have too little interest in you to lift you where you do not care to rise, and are too just to do you an essential wrong. Nothing can harm you but yourself; the evil you sustain you carry about with you, and are never a real sufferer but by your own fault. If you live on a low plain, below the esteem of men, below the reach of selfrespect, it is of your own choice. Serenely, wisely seek the highest good of life, and you shall find it; and thus only will you keep your account with nature so adjusted that when she claims the final debt, you can render it in peace.

O. P.

ART. XXVII.

Christianity as an Organization.

Christianity and the Church identical. Brownson's Quarterly Re view. New York: Dunigan & Brother. July, 1857.

WHEN We took occasion, a year since, to express our dissent from certain principles put forth by Mr. O. A. Brownson in his article, The Church and the Republic,which article appeared in his Quarterly Review for July, 1856, we certainly did not anticipate any occasion to continue a discussion of the general subject involved. We had formed some thoughts with reference to what we deemed the leading argument in support of the claims of the Catholic Church, and the appearance of the article named seemed to give an opportunity to state them. Mr. Brownson replied to our article. We responded to his reply. In the article named at the head of this, he meets our response. Most unexpectedly we find ourselves in a controversy with the champion of the Catholic Church. We trust we duly consider both the profit and the edification of our readers, by attempting another article in continuation of the discussion into which we have thus been lead. Mr. Brownson's article, Christianity and the Church identical, fairly meets the real issue -how successfully remains to be considered. We feel, under the circumstances, that justice to one of the great themes of many centuries, requires that we should meet the same issue with equal candor.

The present state of the matter in dispute may be reached in few words. The purpose of the article, The Church and the Republic, was to show that in every successful government there must be three elements, the State, the Individual, and a Power independent of both these, whose office it is to mediate between them. The tendency of the State is towards despotism; the tendency of the individual is towards anarchy; and hence, that the mediating power may be really a power, it must have an authority underived from either the State or the individual. This authoritative and mediating power is the