ed as the scene of His agency.' That Mr. Martineau
should have lived so long, thought so much, and failed to recognise
the entirely subjective character of this creed, is highly
instructive. His 'proper organs of divine apprehension '--given, we
must assume, to Mr. Martineau and his pupils, but denied to many of
the greatest intellects and noblest men in this and other ages--lie at
the very core of his emotions.

In fact, it is when Mr. Martineau is most purely emotional that he
scorns the emotions; it is when he is most purely subjective that he
rejects subjectivity. He pays a just and liberal tribute to the
character of John Stuart Mill. But in the light of Mill's philosophy,
benevolence, honour, purity, having 'shrunk into mere unaccredited
subjective susceptibilities, have lost all support from Omniscient
approval, and all presumable accordance with the reality of things.'
If Mr. Martineau had given them any inkling of the process by which he
renders the 'subjective susceptibilities' objective, or how he arrives
at an objective ground of 'Omniscient approval,' gratitude from his
pupils would have been his just meed. But, as it is, he leaves them
lost in an iridescent cloud of words, after exciting a desire which he
is incompetent to appease.

'We are,' he says, in another place, 'for ever shaping our
representations of invisible things into forms of definite opinion,
and throwing them to the front, as if they were the photographic
equivalent of our real faith. It is a delusion which affects us all.
Yet somehow the essence of our religion never finds its way into these
frames of theory: as we put them together it slips away, and, if we
turn to pursue it, still retreats behind; ever ready to work with the
will, to unbind and sweeten the affections, and bathe the life with
reverence, but refusing to be seen, or to pass from a divine hue of
thinking into a human pattern of thought.' This is very beautiful, and
mainly so because the man who utters it obviously brings it all out of
the treasury of his own heart. But the 'hue' and 'pattern' here so
finely spoken of, the former refusing to pass into the latter, are
neither more nor less than that 'emotion,' on the one hand, and that
'objective knowledge,' on the other, which have drawn this suicidal
fire from Mr. Martineau's battery.

I now come to one of the most serious portions of Mr. Martineau's
pamphlet--serious far less on account of its 'personal errors,' th