that it is one about which there is much difficulty.  If a revelation were given to an ignorant people, in accordance with the reality, it is quite clear that they would not be in a condition to receive it, and would therefore, probably, reject it as absurd; but if the description were given according to the appearance presented, then no difficulty would be felt.  The question, however, is pressed—whether such a mode of representation is consistent with the truthfulness which may be expected in a revelation.

It might, we think, be a sufficient reply to say that, as, according to our former reasoning, it is, in many cases, the only possible mode of revelation consistent with the established order of things, we may well be content with it; but we will pursue the subject a little further, with the view of making clear how the matter stands.  It may be observed that, if absolute truth on a particular subject cannot be communicated, the nearest approximation to it is, not only all that can be expected, but is in itself highly desirable.  If a man is unable to receive as full an apprehension of a thing as we have ourselves, we must endeavour to give him the most perfect information which he is capable of receiving.  We do not injure him by doing this, but we should injure him if we omitted to do it.  If a man, who had lived all his life in the Arctic regions, and had never heard of any other country, were to be brought to England, it would not be necessary to tell him, with a view to his comfort here, the motion of the earth with regard to the sun, and the causes of the

length of our days and nights, and of the variation of the seasons.  To enter into these matters would confuse his mind, and the man, if he had to earn his living, would starve while he was acquiring the knowledge of them.  By such a course of proceeding we should, in reality, do him a great injustice.  Instead of attempting anything of the kind, we should naturally give him such information as might be requisite for his practical guidance, in a popular manner, and leave to himself the acquisition of such scientific truth as he might be desirous of becoming acquainted with.  In a word, we should describe to him things as they appear to be, and in this respect our description would be, in a certain sense, true; we should not describe them as they really are, and so far our description would not be in strict accordance with the facts of the case.  We were about to say that it is a choice of difficulties; but, is there any real difficulty in the case?  Does not the common sense of mankind declare that the mode of proceeding which we have described is the only proper one, and that there is no real untruthfulness in it?  It may be noticed too that even scientific men continually make use of it amongst themselves, and in their intercourse with others, and this without any charge of untruthfulness being brought against them.  What objection then can possibly lie against the adoption of the same method in a revelation? [17]  The supposed object of a revelation is to save the soul, or, at least, to advance in a material degree our spiritual interests.  Is that to be put aside till the world has learnt scientific truth, and is able to converse in scientific

language?  We feel no difficulty in leaving the answer to this question to the common sense of mankind in general.  We conclude, then, that as phenomenal truth is in many cases the only truth which can possibly be afforded, and the imparting of it is a boon, and not an injury, there is no reason why the Deity should not, when He sees fit, make use of this mode of communication in revelation.

We will now notice, distinctly, words as a medium of revelation.  It is plain, that in communicating knowledge, they are only effectual by calling up in the mind of the hearer ideas already existing.  To speak to a man who has been blind from his birth, of colours would be useless, because he has had no experience of them, and consequently no ideas corresponding to them.  Words may bring up ideas in a different combination from any which had previously existed in the mind of the person spoken to; but they cannot create ideas.  They may make the hearer acquainted with something which he has never actually perceived; may cause him to reason in a new manner; to see a familiar object in a fresh light, or, in some other way, bring the faculties of the mind into play; but still the mind, so far as instruction by words is concerned, can only act upon its previous stores, and analyze or combine them into new forms.  This being the case, it is clear that a revelation, so far as it is made by words, must be limited by the ideas previously existing in the mind of the person to whom it is made.  These ideas, too, however numerous and refined they may be, are limited by the experience which a man has had of the external world, and of himself.  He cannot get beyond these.  If, then, God should think fit to reveal, in words, a knowledge of Himself, or any other object which does not

come within the direct cognizance of our perceptive faculties, this can only be effected by calling up in the mind, through the words, some new combination of ideas already possessed.  This may not correspond precisely with the object, respecting which the revelation is made; but, as it is the only way in which a revelation by words can be effected, we have no just reason to find fault with it.  All we have a right to expect, is that the words should call up in the mind those ideas which best represent the object designed to be revealed.

This may tend to throw some light upon what are called anthropomorphic ideas of God.  These have sometimes been spoken of as inadequate, and degrading.  Inadequate they certainly are, as every notion which we can have of the Deity must be; but we are unable to see in what way they are degrading.  Almost every nation, following apparently the necessity of our nature, has clothed its gods in the objective form of some familiar animal, or other existence, and endowed them with qualities of which they had experience.  What wonder then if God, seeing that He must, unless the conditions of our nature were altered, make use of ideas with which we are already familiar, should adopt an anthropomorphic representation of Himself, purified, exalted, and adapted, as far as possible, to His own infinite perfections?  In fact, we know not how God could declare Himself as just, righteous, pure, and loving, or reveal our responsibility to Himself, without a reference to man, inasmuch as he is the only being, of which we have any actual experience, who possesses, even in a limited degree, qualities of such a description.  Assuredly then it cannot be a degrading notion of the Deity to regard Him as invested with the highest attributes of which we have a conception.  We

are aware that some philosophers talk much of the Infinite, and the Absolute, as conveying more exalted notions of the Divine Being.  What the exact meaning of those terms is philosophers find it difficult to declare, and the common people are almost wholly unable to understand.  Certainly such highly abstract terms convey little distinct meaning.  It will be found upon examination, that the word “Infinite,” to stir in any degree the depths of our nature, must be combined with some quality with which we are familiar.  Infinite love, infinite justice, infinite purity, are things which we can in some degree understand and appreciate; but the point which we