he became dark. Hence proceeded all evils: dissension, malice, and everything else of a nature contrary to the light.' By 'light' the Arab means the Divine Beneficence, always termed light by the oriental sages, in strict accordance with scripture. See 1 John i. 5, 8. John ix. 5, &c.

Such, then, having been the event among spirits,— among beings consisting only of mind,—a new creation next ensued. A new form of subsistence was called into being; matter was produced; and “ God created" the visible "heavens and the earth."

We are not expressly told by the inspired historian whether the heavenly bodies which are unconnected with our solar system were formed previously to the sun and moon, or at the same time with them. The mention of "the stars" (Gen. i. 16,) has been considered to imply that they were then created, along with the sun and moon. The Hebrew gives no support to the notion that the planets only are thereby intended; for the word there employed is the same always used to denote those glittering bodies which fill the visible heavens by night, whether planets or fixed stars. We shall enter farther into this subject hereafter.

Be this as it may, the production of matter was a mighty event in the history of crea.ion, and called forth many new and amazing conditions of being. Hitherto, all existence having been comprised in the class of mind, time and space had been unknown to those beings who composed that purely spiritual universe. But now a change took place. All had previously been eternity; but here time began. Periods and revolutions commenced; and not only were the bounds of time appointed, but those of space were

fixed also. Distance measured the extent of the new creation, and duration assumed its existence. Another fresh and wondrous property of this material formation was motion. "This was the first existence of motion; for we can have no idea of motion previously to matter. It requires extension, shape, impulse; all qualities of matter alone. The motion of spirit is a contradiction in terms. What can be the motion of bodiless intelligence?' (Croly's Divine Providence, p. 19). And again, (Ibid. p. 49,) If to spirits matter were a new conception, motion, which altogether depends upon matter, must have been equally new.'

Tertullian (Apology, c. 22,) has a curious passage on this subject. 'Every spirit may be said to be winged, on account of its swiftness; for they can be here, and there, and everywhere in a moment; the whole world to them is but as one place.'

How different, then, nay, how opposite are the characteristics of matter to those of mind! The former entirely corporeal,-the latter all mental: the one, even when inhabited by a soul, slow, sensual, sluggish, the other spiritual, swift, intelligent: the one a cumbered, or even an inanimate substance,-the other a pure, unmixed intellect: matter limited by impassable bounds of space and time, which touch and repress it at every moment, at every movement, -mind free, aye, far freer than the winds of heaven, unfettered by limits which, to its nature, have no existence; to it all the world is but " as one place," and all time as only a point amid eternity.

If then such be the nature of mind, even of created and finite mind, what should be our conceptions of the creating, infinite mind of the Eternal? Space is indeed annihilated to Him who is at once every...

where present; and what is time to that Being with a thousand years" are but as one day," or

whom

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even as a watch in the night?"

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A beautiful allusion to the Divine Omnipresence is made by Dante, (one of the most scriptural Christians that ever escaped and exposed the pollutions of his mother-church of Rome,) in his exquisite version of the Lord's Prayer.

'O Padre nostro, che ne cieli stai,
Non circonscritto, ma per più amore
Che à primi effetti di lassù tu hai,”—

(Div. Com. Purg. 11.)

thereby implying that the immediate presence of the divine glory is not confined to the highest heavens by space, or any other limit, but is induced to dwell there by a supreme love to the heavenly spirits and angels, the first creation of his power. He is not called Our Father in heaven' because he is not also present upon earth, but because it hath pleased him to manifest his power and majesty in a higher degree to the spiritual, celestial essences, than to our dim corporeal eyes.

Little indeed is all that we can conceive of Him from his works of creation, or even from the word of his revelation. We know that He is everywhere, that he can do all things, and knows all things; but what do we understand by these brief, yet unfathomable expressions? Can our limited spirit, rendered yet more helpless by the " cage of flesh," in which it is imprisoned, conceive the idea of a Spirit pervading all things? We speak of it, in established and conventional phrases, but can we, for a moment, entertain such a thought, in reality? No; for such an

effort we must ourselves become infinite; no mind can realize such a property without possessing it.

Of the divine power, glory, wisdom, we can but faintly imagine; they are more than human, they are boundless,' we say, and there we stop, for we can say no more. God has not been pleased to make known these His attributes to us under any fixed terms or descriptions whatever. There is but one passage of His word in which He has deigned to reveal himself, by an explicit declaration. 'The only word in which God ever defined His nature is LOVE.'-Div. Prov. p. 9.

X. Q.

The civil mischiefs which may arise from Puritanism are to be watched with equal vigilance, and repelled with equal vigour as those from Popery. But the difference between the religious errors of each is immense. I have always regarded Popery rather as an impious and impudent combination against the sense and rights of mankind, than a species of religion; while the differences which divided us from the Dissenters were of so trifling a nature, that their making a schism rather than conform, and our hazarding one rather than to indulge them in their scruples, will be the eternal opprobrium of both churches.—Bishop Warburton.

STANZAS.

Lov'st thou the page where moves along
In pomp of words, the pride of song?
And are thy daily musings fed,

With visions of the mighty dead?

Deem'st thou that there a charm is found, Above mortality's dull round?

Deep of that spring thou drink'st in vain, 'Twill soon be thine to thirst again!

Or, is it by thine own fire-side

Thy hopes with folded wings abide ?
Content, with glad, yet patient song,
To cheer life's daily hours along?
And still the burden of their strain,
Heard at each pause—again—again,
Does one sweet thought recurring come,
To love and be beloved at home!'

Ab, deem not thou thy lowly hearth
Safe from the storms that sweep the earth!
For know, that day in following day,
Must steal some charm of life away;
And mark a change, though p'rhaps unseen,
'Twixt what is now, and what has been;
Or death, with sudden touch, deface
Each household picture's tender grace!