their adversary." Curious counsel to emanate from an inquirer after truth!

But we have no occasion to follow this philosophy farther in its circling course of tempestuous violence, or hear more respecting its variations and pretensions. It seems but a fair inference from the whole that we have heard, to conclude that philosophy in its true sense is a common thing, and possessed in some degree by all of us, and that in relation to philosophy common thoughts are best, which was the proposition that we proposed to demonstrate. It seems fair too, at least from this Seat, to arrive at the poet's conviction, that love, which is in accordance with the whole economy of nature, involves the best philosophy; for, though it proves a tardy confession, he makes his forsaken Julian cry,

Now, but too well, that common deeds of love

Are better than all metaphysic truths;

That smiles are more than grandest thoughts to teach *."

CHAPTER XIX.

WELL certainly, for wits of such light calibre as ours, we have been driven on of late to matters of wondrous solidity and wisdom; ay, and we must be fixed here for a time, too, though I should have to hold you fast; and things, perhaps, will only look more and more dreadful till the end of our sitting. Still, my little schoolmate, please let us have your attention now and then; though I own it is not to be expected that either of us should henceforth be seen inflamed with the cupidity of listening, "incensos cupiditate audiendi," as Cicero, you must know, beheld his audience when Scipio was about to speak.

If the preceding reflections seemed rather serious and abstract for the Lover's Seat and the point of view from which we are surveying life, I fear what must now be listened to, though we shall have followed the charge of Durandarte in the cave of

* Within and Without, by G. Macdonald,

Montesinos, had patience and shuffled the cards, will appear at first still more unsuitable; for the completion of our enterprise will require that, in fine, we speak of common thoughts in relation to that part of truth which passes under the name of religion. But start not; there is no avoiding the dilemma; for these common thoughts we may remark, like truths themselves, are never alone; to know one of them will need the knowledge of many others, as they hang together in a chain of mutual dependence; and, dear of dears, however we may gaily trifle, there is not a single path of thought we tread but leads towards these regions of infinity.

Take courage, however, notwithstanding this first impression. The apprehension will be found on a little reflection to be groundless; for neither the place nor the persons who are occupying it are in antagonism with what we have now to hear, since, after all, it is in this place perhaps more than any where else that the most fervent ejaculations are heard.-Oh that we may all be reunited beyond this vale of tears and death! or, what is truly pathetic on a girl's tongue, "Oh that I were in heaven and at last happy!" So the Lover, in his most passionate ardour, is found singing thus :—

"In town or tower,

Or this fair bower,

Oh! think on me;
Though a wandering star,

As the faintest are,

I love but thee.

I am not what I may seem
To the world or thee;
But fain would love

With thee above,

Where thou wilt be."

Thus does this common influence manifest itself where some might least expect to trace it. Such is

"That draught of sorcery which brings

Phantoms of fair ambiguous things,—

Whose drops, like those of rainbows, smile

Upon the mists that circle man ;

Bright'ning not only Earth the while,

But grasping Heaven, too, in their span!"

"Dost thou remember when first we met?" asks Preciosa of her lover in the Spanish Student. "It was at Cordova, in the cathedral garden, under the orange-trees beside a fountain."

""Twas Easter Sunday. The full-blossomed trees,
Filled all the air with fragrance and with joy.
The priests were singing, and the organ sounded,
And then anon the great cathedral bell.

It was the elevation of the Host.

We both of us fell down upon our knees

Under the orange-boughs, and prayed together.
I never had been happy till that moment."

As we found reason for believing that our little audience was not wholly disqualified for listening to the subject of the last chapter, so might it be shown that what is now to be heard. will not prove unsuitable to it, formed as that audience is by

And mark, accordingly, how persons like those now by our side inquire after the future,-how fearlessly they still look to that goal. The angels may fear in heaven, but, says an old commentator on the history of the woman of Chanana, “a woman on earth will not fear. She has no need of any one. She approaches by herself and implores mercy." Within this sphere of thought the woman is discouraged by no answers. "You call me a dog," she replies to her instructor. "Well, I am what you say; so I'll not leave you. Like a dog, I'll follow you wherever you go. Of course I know I am not worthy of the bread of children, but I am content with the leavings of the little dogs." "O woman, without shame!" exclaims the admiring observer, "she tries to conquer the Lord." He says,

non licet,"-"it is not lawful," and she says, you can if you wish." Thus potent, one might say, invincible is the mere weak woman when she enters upon this sphere of thought, even meeting her Creator thus. But hear again another instance pointed out by a great author *. When the pitiless, accusing world withdraws in scorn, we read that our Lord remained alone with the woman standing in the midst; and then that He stooped down while she stood thus in his presence. "What a suggestive scene," he exclaims, "is this! Christ stoops down, and the woman appears standing upright, to show how she rises when God's mercy thus descends upon her. Then, in fine, we have the same divine Master content with having for audience the cheerful Samaritan woman, filling her pitcher at the fountain like any one else; and remark what an affinity there seems to be between this purely feminine character and the subject which is introduced; how He is the first to speak,— asking her for a drink of water; how she playfully rallies him on the conduct of his nation to her own; how quickly she recognizes his divine authority, changing her mirth to respect,saying, "My Lord;" how she seeks to prolong the conversation, proposing her doubts, and wishing to be instructed; how she asks for the spiritual water; how by degrees she is led to highest contemplations,-" ad dogmatum altitudinem;" how she confesses all the sins of her whole life; how she asks about nothing worldly, anxious about truth alone; how she thinks not about herself further than as one amongst all others; how she has only the common knowledge that is found among all others, saying, "scio quia Messias venit, qui dicitur Christus; cum ergo venerit ille nobis annuntiabit omnia,"-" He will teach us all things;" not me and a few others privileged, but us all. Here was a mere woman, in all the simplicity of her nature, and you see how the subject submitted to her on a common occasion, when you might have thought that she was only prepared for chatting or singing, seemed to be exactly that which of all others went to her heart.

The root of all such affinity is of course the belief in a future existence, which humanity, to which irrational hopes are ever distasteful, will not part with, and least of all at the Lover's

* Ventura, Les Femmes de l'Evangile.

Seat, for there is an impulse to eternity raised by this moment's love.

"Within the hearts of all men lie

These promises of wider bliss,

Which blossom into hopes that cannot die
In sunny hours like this."

True; every where, and above all in such a spot as this, it is with difficulty that the desire of temporal happiness dies in the heart of man; but die it will sometimes, and, when circumstances oppose, perhaps also even here.

"Væ mihi, quod sine væ non vivit filius Evæ."

When these hours come, what remains to man? This last plank for his wrecked hopes to cling to.

No thought, therefore, more common than that of our immortality. What is the worth of that thought? In the first place, the common sense and experience of mankind seem to demonstrate its reasonableness. For observe,-the end of life, as some one has said, has always the appearance of a broken-off end. It shows a want of completeness. To account for this, indeed, some will say, affecting uncommon thoughts, that we all take our part in the progress of humanity; and it is to be hoped that we shall all see and finally enjoy the share which our own individual agency has had in promoting the good to which the whole human family looks forward as its destiny. But in the ordinary estimation of mankind, there must still remain for individuals an ultimate and final end which must be looked for elsewhere and in another life; this is what common minds and highest minds, brought to conformity with them by the study of the humanities, have never questioned. Humanists have generally believed in the immortality which scientific men, including some who have been directed to theology, have sometimes questioned. Nevertheless, to come to our second point, the common thought in this respect has the sanction of the greatest intelligences that ever were granted to the human race. And now, my little scholar, that would so often be a fly-away, if she could, let me take a tight hold of you; for we must attend to some very grave and important passages that I am about to read; and though I thoroughly believe you have come