ual to that with which we forecast the future ages. The philosopher
who penetrates the distant portions of the universe by the
_omnipresence_ of his scientific generalizations, who reads the secret
of the sun by the glance of his penetrating eye, has little occasion to
deny that all its forces may be mastered by a single all-knowing and
_omnipresent_ Spirit, and that its secrets can be read by one all-seeing
eye. The scientist who evolves the past in his confident thought, under
a few grand titles of generalized forces and relations, and who develops
and almost gives law to the future by his faith in the persistence of
force, has little reason to question the existence of an intellect
capable of deeper insight and larger foresight than his own, which can
grasp all the past and the future by an all-comprehending intelligence,
and can control its wants by a personal energy that is softened to
personal tenderness and love.

[Footnote 19: A Congregational divine, born in Connecticut, long
Professor of Metaphysics in Yale College, and writer of many critical
Essays and Reviews. His treatise on "The Human Intellect," is the most
elaborate American work upon Psychology.]

* * * * *

=_William Henry Milburn,[20] 1823-_=

From "Lectures."

=_54._= THE PIONEER PREACHERS OF THE MISSISSIPPI VALLEY.

The spoken eloquence of New England is for the most part from
manuscript. Her first settlers brought old-world forms, and fashions
from the old world, with them. Their preachers were set an appalling
distance from their congregations. Between the pulpit, perched far up
toward the ceiling, and the seats, was an awful abysmal depth. Above the
lofty desk was dimly seen the white cravat, and above that the head
of the preacher. His eye was averted and fastened downward upon his
manuscript, and his discourse, or exercitation, or whatever it might be,
was delivered in a monotonous, regular cadence, probably relieved
from time to time by some quaint blunder, the result of indistinct
penmanship, or dim religious light. It was not this preacher's business
to arouse his audience. The theory of worship of the period was
opposed to that. This people did not wish excitement, or stimulus, or
astonishment, or agitation. They simply desired information; they wished
to be instructed; to have their judgment informed, or their reason
enlightened. Thus the preacher might safely remain perched up in his far
distant un