One, of the mode of His being, we know nothing, nor need we to know; we cannot pierce the inaccessible light in which He dwells, but through the shadows which veil His presence from us, an endless stream of of life, power, and action flows around and about us, bearing us and all finite things onward to new life, love, and beauty. "The ONE remains, the many change and pass; Heaven's light for ever shines, Earth's shadows fly; Stains the white radiance of Eternity, All Death in nature is Birth,-the assumption of a new garment, to replace the old vesture which humanity has laid aside in its progress to higher being. And serene above all change, the unattainable object of all finite effort-fountain of our life-home of our spirits, Thou art—the One Being,—the I AM,—for whom Reason has no idea, and Language no name. "Sublime and living Will, named by no name, compassed by no thought, I may well raise my soul to Thee, for Thou and I are not divided. Thy voice sounds within me, mine resounds in Thee; and all my thoughts, if they are but good and true, live in Thee also. In Thee, the Incomprehensible, I myself, and the world in which I live, become clearly comprehensible to me, all the secrets of my existence are laid open, and perfect harmony arises in my soul. "Thou art best known to the childlike, devoted, simple mind. To it Thou art the searcher of hearts, who seest its inmost depths; the ever-present true witness of its thoughts, who knowest its truth, who knowest it though all the world know it not. Thou art the Father who ever desirest its good, who rulest all things for the best. To Thy will it unhesitatingly resigns itself: 'Do with me,' it says, 'what thou wilt; I know that it is good, for it is Thou who dost it.' The inquisitive understanding, which has heard of Thee, but seen Thee not, would teach us Thy nature; and, as Thy image, shows us a monstrous and incongruous shape, which the sagacious laugh at, and the wise and good abhor. "I hide my face before Thee, and lay my hand upon my mouth. How Thou art, and seemest to Thine own being, I can never know, any more than I can assume Thy nature. After thousands upon thousands of spirit-lives, I shall comprehend Thee as little as I do now in this earthly house. That which I conceive, becomes finite through my very conception of it; and this can never, even by endless exaltation, rise into the Infinite. Thou differest from men, not in degree but in nature. In every stage of their advancement they think of Thee as a greater man, and still a greater; but never as God-the Infinite,-whom no measure can mete. I have only this discursive, progressive thought, and I can conceive of no other:how can I venture to ascribe it to Thee? In the idea of person there are imperfections, limitations:-how can I clothe Thee with it without these? "I will not attempt that which the imperfection of my finite nature forbids, and which would be useless to me:-how Thou art, I may not know. But Thy relations to me the mortal-and to all mortals, lie open before my eyes,-were I but what I ought to be,-and surround me as clearly as the consciousness of my own existence. Thou workest in me the knowledge of my Thou duty, of my vocation in the world of reasonable beings: -how, I know not, nor need I to know. knowest what I think and what I will:-how Thou canst know, through what act thou bringest about that consciousness, I cannot understand,—nay, I know that the idea of an act, of a particular act of consciousness, belongs to me alone, and not to Thee, the Infinite One. Thou willest that my free obedience shall bring with it eternal consequences:-the act of Thy will I cannot comprehend,—I only know that it is not like mine. Thou doest, and Thy will itself is the deed; but the way of Thy working is not as my ways, I cannot trace it. Thou livest and art, for Thou knowest and willest and workest, omnipresent to finite Reason; but Thou art not as I now and always must conceive of being." Such is a very broken and imperfect outline of the most complete system of Transcendental Idealism ever offered to the world. To those few among British students, who, amid the prevailing degradation of sentiment and frivolity of thought, have pondered the deep mysteries of being until the common logic, which pretends to grasp its secret, seems a vain and presumptuous trifling with questions which lie far beyond its reach, and who find in the theological solution but a dry and worthless husk which conceals the kernel of truth it was only meant to preserve,—to such it may be no unacceptable service to have pointed the way to a modern Academe, where the moral dignity of the Athenian sage is united with the poetic sublimity and intellectual keenness of his two most distinguished pupils. If by such humble guidance any should be induced to turn aside towards that retreat, let them not be deterred if at first the path should seem to lack something of the smoothness of the well-trodden highway on which they have hitherto travelled;-let them proceed courageously; it will lead them into calm sunshine, and beside clear and refreshing streams; nor shall they return thence without nobler thoughts and higher aspirations. The Fichte lived in close retirement in Zurich. manners of the inhabitants did not please him, and he seldom came out into society. His wife, his fatherin-law, Lavater, and a few others, composed his circle. Rahn enjoyed in no ordinary degree the society of his distinguished son-in-law; and it is pleasing to know that the celebrated and venerable preacher preserved, even in advanced age, a keen relish for new truth, a perfect openness of mind not frequently met with in his profession. At his request Fichte prepared a short course of lectures, by which his friends might be introduced to an acquaintance with the Critical Philosophy, the fame of which had now reached Switzerland. At the conclusion of the lectures Lavater addressed a letter of thanks to his young instructor, full of the strongest expressions of gratitude and esteem, in which he styles himself his "pupil, friend, and fellow-man." Up to the period of his death, this excellent man retained the warmest feelings of friendship towards the philosopher; and the following lines, written some years after Fichte's departure from Zurich, whatever may be their value in other respects, serve at least to show the respect, almost approaching to reverence, with which Fichte was regarded by one who was himself no ordinary man:— “Denkzeile nach meinem Tode, an Herrn Professor Fichte, 1800, 'Unerreichbarer Denker, Dein Daseyn beweist mir das Daseyn, Eines ewigen Geistes, dem hohe Geister enstrahlen! Könntest je Du zweifeln: ich stellte Dich selbst vor Dich selbst nur; Although Fichte had as yet published nothing to which his name was attached, he had nevertheless acquired an extensive philosophical reputation. In several powerful and searching criticisms which appeared in the "Allgemeine Literatur Zeitung," the hand of the author of the "Critique of Revelation" was discovered. He was now generally looked upon as the man who was destined to complete the philosophy of Kant, and was thus led into literary correspondence with some of the most distinguished men of the day. At the head of these must be placed Reinhold, the professor of philosophy at Jena, who had hitherto stood foremost among the disciples of Kant. The relation between these two celebrated men was a most remarkable one. Although their characters were very different, although they never saw each other, they lived on terms of the most intimate and trustful confidence, such as is commonly attained by long-tried friendship alone. In their extensive correspondence, Fichte's powerful and commanding intellect evidently possesses great ascendency over the more diffident and pliable nature of Reinhold; but his influence never interferes with the mental freedom of his friend. On the other hand, Reinhold's open and enthusiastic character, and his pure love of truth, engaged the warm |