er resides, or the total phenomenology
through which that passes to and fro. Generally it seems to stand thus:
God reveals Himself to us more or less dimly in vast numbers of
processes; for example, in those of vegetation, animal growth,
crystallization, etc. These impress us not primarily, but secondarily on
reflection, after considering the enormity of changes worked annually,
and working even at the moment we speak. Then, again, other arrangements
throw us more powerfully upon the moral qualities of God; _e.g._, we see
the fence, the shell, the covering, varied in ten million ways, by which
in buds and blossoms He insures the ultimate protection of the fruit.
What protection, analogous to this, has He established for animals; or,
taking up the question in the ideal case, for man, the supreme of His
creatures? We perceive that He has relied upon love, upon love
strengthened to the adamantine force of insanity or delirium, by the
mere aspect of utter, utter helplessness in the human infant. It is not
by power, by means visibly developed, that this result is secured, but
by means spiritual and 'transcendental' in the highest degree.

The baseness and incorrigible ignobility of the Oriental mind is seen in
the radical inability to appreciate justice when brought into collision
with the royal privileges of rulers that represent the nation. Not only,
for example, do Turks, etc., think it an essential function of royalty
to cut off heads, but they think it essential to the consummation of
this function that the sacrifice should rest upon caprice known and
avowed. To suppose it wicked as a mere process of executing the laws
would rob it of all its grandeur. It would stand for nothing. Nay, even
if the power were conceded, and the sovereign should abstain from using
it of his own free will and choice, this would not satisfy the wretched
Turk. Blood, lawless blood--a horrid Moloch, surmounting a grim company
of torturers and executioners, and on the other side revelling in a
thousand unconsenting women--this hideous image of brutal power and
unvarnished lust is clearly indispensable to the Turk as incarnating the
representative grandeur of his nation. With this ideal ever present to
the Asiatic and Mohammedan mind, no wonder that even their religion
needs the aid of the sword and bloodshed to secure conversion.

In the _Spectator_ is mentioned, as an Eastern apologue, that a vizier
who (like Chaucer's Canace) had learned t