admitted, on all hands, that the fault, where it exists, admits neither excuse nor palliation. It destroys the very end and object of language; and, indeed, the end and object of the writer himself; for, if he does not mean to be understood, to what purpose does he write? Perspicuity is the first and the last excellence of style. Without it, mellifluous periods flow in vain, and the flowers of rhetoric "waste their sweetness."

Obscurity is either of thought or language, of sentiment or expression. Where the sentiment is obscure, it may often be fairly presumed that the author does not understand himself; and, in this case, it is of no consequence how his readers understand him. This charge, however, should always be made with reserve and hesitation. Obscurity of language may arise from various causes. The writer may be ignorant, or careless, or unskilful. The language in which he writes may be inadequate, as being defective in copiousness, discrimination, or force. There may be an absolute want of corresponding terms, in which his ideas or conceptions may be clothed. Finally, and this cause includes both thought and language,the difference between the religious, moral, and intellectual state of the writer and the reader, may induce a total obscurity.

It is often difficult to determine to which of these classes an author's obscurity is to be referred. Were he himself to be consulted, and to admit the charge, he would probably impute it to the language; and the presumption should be, that he is right. Few would acknowledge that the darkness was within them.

There are some who affect obscurity in their compositions, and there are readers too, who admire what they do not understand. But of these, the number is small; and it is hoped, for the interest of literature, that it may become still smaller.

The obscurity attributed to Swedenborg is of both kinds. Of his opponents, many do not hesitate to say that he did not understand himself. But all of them complain of his language as strange and uncouth; as abounding in new terms and in new uses of old ones; as a jargon of technicals and mysticals, dark and incomprehensible.

We propose to examine, briefly, the justice of this latter charge. As to the former, it would avail little to notice it. If we were to attempt to vindicate Swedenborg from the reproach of not understanding himself, we should only fall under the same censure ourselves. To these opponents we have merely to recommend, that they should read more, and beware of rash judgment.

Without inquiring how far the translators of Swedenborg may be sometimes answerable for the occasional obscurity of his language, we readily concede that his style is neither classical nor popular, as these words are commonly understood; that he fre

quently employs new terms, and that he uses old ones in new senses; that these terms are applied with an exactness and precision that may be called technical; and that, from these causes, and others, he is obscure, especially to those who read him superficially.

some of the most prominent To those who have any ac

We have enumerated, above, causes of an author's obscurity. quaintance with Swedenborg, it is needless to say that he cannot be reproached with ignorance, carelessness, or want of skill in the use of language. We believe that his obscurity may be traced to some, or all of the other causes we have there mentioned. Let us suppose, then, for a moment, that the claims of Swedenborg are true. He is admitted, we will say, to an intercourse with the spiritual world; he sees heaven and hell, and the wonders that are there. Let him be supposed to have possessed this privilege for a great number of years, and to have accumulated a vast variety of spiritual knowledge. His memory is filled with images and representatives of what he has seen and heard. His understanding is stored with abstract truths and principles. His affections have been awakened, excited, and operated upon, by agents and influences unknown upon earth, and have given birth to a new creation of living perceptions. He has held "celestial coloquy sublime" with the "spirits of the just made perfect," and "the innumerable company of angels." Thus, he descends. He seeks for a medium to communicate to his fellow men these new tidings from the spiritual world. There is but one such medium, and that is human language. And what is human language? It is a compound of worldly materials, the gradual aggregate of ages, the form of external and natural ideas. It consists, for the most part, of arbitrary signs-the representatives of material objects, of ideas received through the bodily senses; competent, indeed, to the purposes for which it is generally used, but inadequate to the conveyance of those interior truths, which must fill and possess the mind of him who has entered the heavenly city, and "beheld the visions of God."

The imperfection of human language, even as a vehicle of natural thought, is evident from the perpetual creation of new terms and new combinations, as the mind extends its dominion over new regions, and the ideas branch out into new ramifications. Thought is, obviously, the parent of language, and language the representative of thought. The minds of men, confined mostly to natural objects and images, gradually form a corresponding language, which is enlarged and improved as their ideas are amplified; and the language, thus formed, is modified by all those influences, external or internal, which act upon the thoughts and ideas of the mind.

It is well known that the arts and sciences have, each, their peculiar and appropriate language,—unintelligible in a great degree to the world at large, but useful and necessary in their respective departments. Common terms, in their common acceptation, having been found insufficient, new terms have been created, to express new ideas, or combinations, or distinctions. If one of our enlightened philosophers, with his mind full of abstract truths, or the discoveries of science, were called upon to communicate these truths or discoveries to one of the illiterate peasants of Europe, how could he do it? As his pupil is destitute even of the most general elements of knowledge, his principles, processes, and demonstrations would be utterly thrown away; and the reward of his labours would probably be, to be thought destitute of

common sense.

It would seem, therefore, that, in bringing down truth in the way we suppose Swedenborg to have done, it would be impossible to avoid some degree of obscurity in what he did tell; and that much must be left untold, for want of an adequate medium of communication. Accordingly, we find that this is the case. In explaining and illustrating interior truths, he often speaks of the obscurity which necessarily attends them. And he frequently declares that much of what he has seen and heard cannot be communicated. For, as natural language is the form or expression of natural thought, it must, of necessity, be an incompetent vehicle for the communication of any higher order of ideas than that in which it originates.

We have made the supposition that the claims of Swedenborg were founded in truth, in order that we might, on that principle, account for his obscurities. It is needless to say that, though hypothetically stated, it is our real belief.

Let it not, however, be inferred, from the principles we have laid down, that human language is absolutely, and in all cases, an inadequate medium of spiritual, or even divine truth. Of this, the Sacred Scriptures, which are addressed to `man in natural language, are the fullest evidence; for, even in this comparative disguise, they are "the power of God unto salvation, to every one that believeth." But it is also evident, that truth, in its last and lowest manifestation, cannot be the same as when, "far above all the heavens," it first emanates from "the Father of Lights." It must be veiled and accommodated again and again, before it can be apprehended by finite minds; and, when it reaches man upon earth, it reveals itself under the most common and general forms of precept and doctrine. Thus, when the Lord was manifest in the flesh,-though "he was the brightness of the Father's glory, and the express image of his person,"-" he made himself of no reputation, and took upon him the form of a servant." Yet

in him, as in the Word, which is from him, "are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge."

We have endeavoured, briefly, to explain one of the principal causes of the obscurity attributed to Swedenborg. But there is another, to which we have already alluded, which invests, in a still deeper shade, the truths he would convey. This is, "the difference between the religious, moral, and intellectual state of the writer and the reader." There is nothing more difficult to explain, to those who are not willing to understand it, than this cause of obscurity, and there is nothing that less needs explanation, to those who are. The pride of understanding in the natural man, makes him unwilling to believe that there is any thing really intelligible which is not intelligible to him; that there is any truth, of whatever nature or degree, which he cannot comprehend. And there is nothing that wounds him more deeply, than to tell him of states of mind in which his sun and his moon are darkened, and his stars withdraw their shining. "The natural man receiveth not the things of the spirit of God, for they are foolishness unto him, neither can he know them, because they are spiritually discerned." The serpent who beguiled the woman in the garden of Eden, still "goes about, seeking whom he may devour." The sensual man desires to be wise of himself; he desires to enter, by natural science, into the mysteries of faith. And since this can never be, he denies that there are mysteries. He rejects all truth that transcends the limits of his own understanding.

"But wisdom is justified of her children." "The spiritual man judgeth all things, yet he himself is judged of no man." There are states of interior perception to which he can bear witness, "with which a stranger doth not intermeddle.' There is an elevation of the understanding into angelic light, which is produced by a pure and holy state of the affections, compared with which, all merely intellectual light is darkness. At such times, "the heavens are opened," "the light of the moon is as the light of the sun, and the light of the sun seven fold." Into such a state as this we suppose Swedenborg to have been, at times, elevated, and from this state to have delivered those interior truths which are contained in his works. These, indeed, are and must be obscure, till he who reads or hears them, has experienced something of a similar state to that in which they were revealed. Accordingly, there are many of them which the members of the New Jerusalem, even those who are most advanced, see but through a glass, darkly." And it is only by resisting evil, by renouncing self love and the love of the world, that they can ever see them "face to face."

But, whatever were the disadvantages under which Swedenborg laboured, in the communication of truth to the world, still

we find that he has communicated an indefinite variety, of every kind and degree. Those who regard him as "a scribe instructed unto the kingdom of heaven," will readily acknowledge that they know much more than they practise. The difficulty lies, not in the want of knowledge, but in its application to conscience and to life. But, independently of those truths, or principles, which are termed purely theological, he has thrown much more light on general science than the world is perhaps aware of. Could our recommendation be of any avail, we would urge the study of his writings upon all those who are interested in the philosophy of the human mind, or of the works of nature. Much of the jargon of verbal metaphysics might be spared, were his principles generally known; and natural philosophy, here taught to ascend from effects to causes, might "look through nature up to nature's God."

The style of Swedenborg, however far removed from that of classic authors, is peculiarly and admirably adapted to the objects he has in view, and the subjects he discusses. It is distinguished by philosophical precision, accuracy, and discrimination, in the adaptation of words to things. His illustrations, though not always equally happy, are often striking and beautiful, and every where evince profound and various knowledge.

H.

For the New Jerusalem Magazine.

NATURE AND EFFICACY OF TRUE PRAYER.

A Letter written in further reply to some queries concerning the views of the New Church with regard to the Nature and Efficacy of True Prayer.

MY DEAR SIR,

I promised you some remarks upon the efficacy of prayer in procuring blessings for others. For the sake of illustration, let us

suppose that you have a sick friend.

Even natural kindness, or sympathy, shown to him, is an excellent medicine. It produces a very salutary effect on his ultimate or sensual mind; and, consequently, upon his body. Who does. not know that the pains of disease are mitigated by the kindness and sympathy of friends? From a perception of the truth of this principle, we are led to desire the attendance of our kindest friends when we are sick; and most persons are aware, that the recovery of a patient often depends much more upon such a display of kindness as keeps his mind in a good state, than upon the skill of the physician.