UC-NRLF 
 
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LIBRARY 
 
 OF THK 
 
 University of California. 
 
 Mrs. SARAH P. WALSWORTH. 
 
 Received October, i8g4. 
 Accessions No.Syg{)'y , Class No. 
 

THE 
 
 ECLIPSE OF FAITH 
 
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 IVIicrosoft Corporation 
 
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THE 
 
 ECLIPSE OF FAITH; 
 
 OR, 
 
 A VISIT 
 
 TO 
 
 A RELIGIOUS SCEPTIC. 
 
 FIFTH EDITION. 
 
 B 
 
 UNI7BRSIT 
 
 7 
 
 CROSBY, NICHOLS AND COMPANY, 
 
 111 Washington Street. 
 
 1854. 
 
[6TIZ10 
 
 ^730 
 
 7 
 
C^?'" G? TIB? '^^ 
 
 'UFI7EnsiT7] 
 AMERICAN PREFACE 
 
 The effect of the perusal of this book, and the 
 estimate put upon it by a reader, will depend up- 
 on his taking with him a right view of its design. 
 That design seems in the mind of the writer to 
 have been very definite and very restiicted. If 
 he should be thought to have intended an answer 
 to all the elaborate objections from criticism and 
 philosophy recently or renewedly urged against 
 faith in the Christian revelation, and, still more, 
 if the reader should suppose that the author had 
 aimed to remove all the difficulties in the way of 
 such a faith, he would equally insure his own 
 disappointment, and wrong the writer. The book 
 comes forth anonymously, but it is ascribed to 
 Mr. Henry Kogers, some of whose very able pa- 
 pers in the Edinburgh Review have been repub- 
 lished in two octavo volumes in England, and one 
 of whose articles, that on " Reason and Faith," 
 dealt with some of the topics which form the 
 subject-matter of this volume. 
 
iri AMERICAN PREFACE. 
 
 The author seems to have viewed with a keen- 
 ly attentive and anxious mind the generally un- 
 settled state of opinion, equally among the liter- 
 ary and some of the humbler classes in England, 
 concerning the t erms and the sanction of a re- 
 ligious faith, especially as the issue bears upon 
 the contents and the authority of the Bible. 
 That he understands the state of things in which 
 he proposes himself as one who has a word to 
 utter, will be allowed by all candid judges, what- 
 ever criticism they may pass upon the effective- 
 ness of his own argument. There is abundant 
 evidence in this book of his large intimacy with 
 the freshest forms of speculation, as developed by 
 the free thought of our age. "While he identifies 
 these speculations with the recent writers who 
 have adopted them, he is not to be understood 
 as allowing that these writers have originated 
 any novel speculations, or excelled the sceptics 
 of former times in acuteness, or plausibility, or 
 success in urging their cause. He adopts the 
 method of the Platonic dialogue, and exhibits a 
 dialectic skill in confounding by objections when 
 objections can be made to do service as argu- 
 ments. His frank admission that he leaves in- 
 surmountable objections and unfathomable mys- 
 teries still involved in the theme, a portion of 
 whose range alone he traverses, should secure 
 him from the imputation of having attempted too 
 much, or of boastfulness for what he considers 
 that he has accomplished. 
 
AMERICAN PREFACE. Vll 
 
 The truculent notice of this book in the "West- 
 minster Review for July is wholly unworthy of 
 the reputation and the claims of that journal. 
 Probably a careful perusal of the book is an es- 
 sential condition for enlightening the mind of 
 the writer, and for rectifying his judgment, so far 
 as information has power to promote candor. 
 
 The Prospective Review for August, in an arti- 
 cle on the work, for the most part commendatory j 
 though certainly without any warmth of praise, 
 makes the prominent stricture upon it to be, a 
 charge against the author of having evaded " the 
 gravest, and in one sense the only serious diffi- 
 culty, with which the evidences he supports have 
 to contend." This difficulty is defined to lie in 
 the question as to whether our four Gospels are 
 essentially and substantially documents from the 
 pens of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, actual 
 companions and contemporaries of Him whose 
 life and lessons are therein recorded. The Re- 
 viewer professes to have satisfied his own mind 
 by an affirmative conclusion on this point. But 
 regarding the question as the very turning-point, 
 the paramount and vital element of the existing 
 issue between faith and unbelief, and not finding 
 it to be dealt with in this volume, the Reviewer 
 considers that it is evaded. It might be urged 
 in reply, that this question is not to other minds 
 of such paramount importance, and that its af- 
 firmative answer would not be conclusive, as it 
 would still leave open other questions ; such, for 
 
YUl AMERICAN PREFACE. 
 
 instance, as those which enter into the theories of 
 Paulus and other Rationalists, and such as are 
 not even excluded from the incidental adjuncts 
 of Strauss's mythical theory. It might also be 
 urged, that, allowing the question to be paramount 
 in its relation to the whole issue, it is one which 
 is not so judiciously dealt with in the discursive- 
 ness of dialogues after dinner, as in the solitary 
 study, with piles of huge tomes, lexicons, and 
 manuscripts that require a most deliberate exam- 
 ination. But to leave the merits and the relative 
 importance of this question undebated, it might 
 have been more generous in the Reviewer to have 
 confined his criticisms to a decision upon what 
 the author has endeavored to accomplish, instead 
 of impugning his judgment in the selection of 
 the points on which to employ his pen. How 
 ever desirable it may be that we should have in 
 another form what Mr. Norton has presented 
 so thoroughly in his work on the Genuineness 
 of the Gospels, it is enough to answer to the 
 Reviewer in the Prospective, that the writer of 
 this volume addressed himself to a diiFerent course 
 of argument, starting from other divergences of 
 opinion, philosophical rather than critical in their 
 relations. He certainly was free to select the 
 method and the direction of his argument, if he 
 candidly represented the answering point of view 
 of those to whom he opposed himself. 
 
 Amid many episodes and interludes of fancy 
 and narrative, it will be found that the volume 
 
AMERICAN PREFACE. IX 
 
 arrays its force of argument against two of the 
 assumptions alike of modern and of ancient scep- 
 ticism ; namely, that a revelation from God to men 
 through the agency of a 5(?pA\is an unreasonable 
 tenet of belief; and that it is impossible that a 
 miracle should occur, and impossible that its occur- 
 rence should be authenticated. There is a vigor- 
 ous and logical power displayed in the discussion 
 of these two points. The discomfiture of those 
 who urge these assumptions does not of course 
 convince all scepticism, or substitute faith for it, 
 but it is something to discomfit such pleas, and 
 to expose the fallacies which confuse the minds 
 of their advocates. The matters of debate are 
 lofty, and there is no levity in their treatment. 
 
ADVEETISEMENT. 
 
 He who reads this book only superficially will 
 at once see that it is not all fiction ; and he who 
 reads it more than superficially will as easily see 
 that it is not all fact. In what proportions it is 
 composed of either would probably require a very 
 acute critic accurately to determine. As the Edi- 
 tor makes no pretensions to such acumen, — as 
 he can lay claim to only an imperfect knowledge 
 of the principal personage in the volume, and 
 never had any personal acquaintance with the sin- 
 gular youth, some traits of whose character and 
 some glimpses of whose history are here given, — 
 he leaves the above question to the decision of 
 the reader. At the same time, it is of no conse- 
 quence in the world. The character and purport 
 of the volume are sufficiently disclosed in the 
 parting words of the Journalist. " It aspires," 
 as is justly said, " to none of the appropriate in- 
 terest either of a novel or a biography."' It might 
 have been very properly entitled " Theological 
 Fragments." 
 
 Mabch 31, 1852. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 rAos 
 
 INTRODUCTION 1 
 
 A GENUINE SCEPTIC 28 
 
 A VERSATILE BELIEVER . . . 32 
 
 PURITAN INFIDELITY . 37 
 
 LORD HERBERT AND MODERN DEISM 48 
 
 SOME CURIOUS PARADOXES 57 
 
 PROBLEMS 67 
 
 A DIALOGUE SHOWING THAT "THAT MAT BE POSSIBLE WITH 
 
 MAN WHICH IS IMPOSSIBLE WITH GOD " .... 73 
 
 A sceptic's FAVORITE TOPICS 96 
 
 UNSTABLE EQUILIBRIUM 101 
 
 A sceptic's FIRST CATECHISM 103 
 
 SOME LIGHT ON THE MYSTERY . . . . . . .105 
 
 BELIEF AND FAITH 106 
 
 THE "via media" OF DEISM ... .... 118 
 
 A sceptic's SELECT PARTY 167 
 
 HOW IT WAS THAT INFIDELITY PREVENTED MY BECOMING AN 
 
 INFIDEL 194 
 
 SKIRMISHES 222 
 
 CHRISTIAN ETHICS 226 
 
 THE BLANK BIBLE 231 
 
 A DIALOGUE IN WHICH IT IS CONTENDED " THAT MIRACLES ARE 
 
 IMPOSSIBLE, BUT THAT IT IS IMPOSSIBLE TO PROVE IT " 246 
 THE ANALOGIES OF AN EXTERNAL REVELATION WITH THE LAWS 
 
 AND CONDITIONS OF HUMAN DEVELOPMENT .... 283 
 
 ON A PREVAILING FALLACY 306 
 
 HISTORIC CREDIBILITY .311 
 
XIV CONTENTS. 
 
 A KNOTTY POINT 32J» 
 
 MEDICAL ANALOGIES . . .... . 330 
 
 HISTOBIC CKITICISM . . 335 
 
 THE "papal aggression" PROVED TO BE IMPOSSIBLE . . 342 
 
 THE PARADISE OF POOLS ... ... 360 
 
 A FUTURE LIFE 379 
 
 A VARIABLE QUANTITY 393 
 
 DISCUSSION OF THREE POINTS 414 
 
 THE LAST EVENING 428 
 

 THE 
 
 ECLIPSE OF FAITH, 
 
 To E. B*****, Missionary in , South Pacific. 
 
 "Wednesday, June 18, 1851. 
 
 My dear Edward: — 
 
 You have more than once asked me to send you, in 
 your distant solitude, my impressions respecting the re- 
 ligious distractions in which your native country has 
 been of late years involved. I have refused, partly, be- 
 cause it would take a volume to give you any just no- 
 tions on the subject ; and partly, because I am not quite 
 sure that you would not be happier in ignorance. Think, 
 if you can, of your native land as in this respect what 
 it was when you left it, on your exile of Christian love, 
 some fifteen years ago. 
 
 I little thought I should ever have so mournful a 
 motive to depart in some degree from my resolution. 
 I intended to leave you to glean what you could of our 
 religious condition from such publications as might 
 reach you. But I am now constrained to write some- 
 thing about it. My dear brother, you will hear it with 
 a sad heart ; — your nephew and mine, our only sister's 
 
Z THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 only child, has, in relation to religion at least, become 
 an absolute sceptic! 
 
 I well recollect the tenderness you felt for him, dou 
 bly endeared by, his own amiable dispositions and the 
 remembrance of her whom in so many points he re- 
 sembled. What must be 7nine, who so long stood to 
 the orphan in the relations which his mother's love and 
 my own affection imposed upon me ! It is hardly a 
 figure to say I felt for him as for a son. " Ah ' " you 
 will say as you glance at your own children, " my bach- 
 elor brother cannot understand that even such an affec- 
 tion is still a faint resemblance of parental love." 
 
 It may be so. I know that that loYe is sui generis; 
 and as I have often heard from those who are fathers, 
 its depth and purity were never realized till they be- 
 came such. But neither, perhaps, can you know how 
 nearly such a love as I have felt for Harrington, com- 
 mitted to me in death by one I loved so well, — beloved 
 alike for her sake and for his own, — the object of so 
 much solicitude during his childhood and youth, — I 
 say you can hardly, perhaps, conceive how near such an 
 affection may approach that of a parent ; how closely 
 such a graft upon a childless stock may resemble the 
 incorporate life of father and son. 
 
 You remember what hopes we both formed of his 
 youth, from the promise alike of his heart and of his 
 intellect. How fondly we predicted a career of future 
 usefulness to others, and honor and happiness to him- 
 self ! You know how often I used to compare him, for 
 the silent ease with which he mastered difficult subjects, 
 and the versatility with which he turned his mind to 
 the most opposite pursuits, to the youthful Theaetetus, 
 as described in Plato's dialogue* the movements of 
 whose mind Theodorus compares to the " noiseless flow 
 of oil " from the flask. 
 
INTRODUCTION. S 
 
 He was just fourteen and a half when you left Eng- 
 land; he is now, therefore, nearly twenty-nine. He 
 left me four years ago, when he was just twenty-five, 
 — about a year after the termination of his college 
 course, which you know was honorable ^o him, and 
 gratifying to me. He then went to spend a year, or a 
 year and a half, as he supposed, in Germany. His stay 
 (he was not all the time in Germany, however) was 
 prolonged for more than three years. In the letters 
 which I received from him, and which gradually be- 
 came more rare and more brief, there was (without^ 
 one symptom of decay of personal affection) a certain 
 air of gradually increasing constraint, in relation to 
 the subject which I knew and felt to be all-important. 
 Alas ! my prophetic soul took it aright ; this constraint 
 was the faint penumbra of a disastrous eclipse indeed ! 
 He was not, as so many profess to be, convinced by any 
 particular book ^as that of Strauss, for example) that 
 the history of Christianity is false; nay, he declares 
 that he is not convinced of that even now ; he is a gen- 
 uine sceptic, and is the subject, he says^ of invincible 
 doubts) Those doubts have extended at length to the 
 whole field of theology, and are due principally, as he 
 himself has owned, to the spectacle of the interminable 
 controversies which (turn where he would) occupied the 
 mind of Germany. Even when he returned homt, 
 he does not appear to have finally abandoned the 
 notion of 4he possibility of constructing some religious 
 system in the place of ChristianityS; — this, as he af- 
 firms, is a later conviction forced upon him by examin- 
 ing the systems of such men as have attempted the 
 solution of the problem. He declares the result wholly 
 unsatisfactory; that, sceptical as he was and is with 
 regarXto the truth of Christianity, he is not even scep- 
 tical with regard to these theories; and he declares 
 
THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 ^ 
 
 that if the undoubtedly powerful minds which have 
 framed them have so signally failed in removing his 
 doubts, and affording him a rock to stand upon, he can- 
 not prevail upon himself to struggle further. 
 
 And so, instead /6f stopping at any of those misera- 
 ble road-side inns feetween Christianity and scepticism, 
 through whose ragged windows all the winds of heaven 
 are blowing, and whose gaudy " signs" assure us there 
 is " good entertainment within for man and beast," 4- 
 whereas it is only for the latter, — Harrington still trav- 
 elled on in hopes of finding some better shelter, and 
 now, in the dark night, and a night of tempest too, 
 finds himself on the open heath. To employ his own 
 words, " he could not rest contented with one-sided the- 
 ories or inconsequential reasonings, and has pursued 
 the argument to its logical termination." He is ill at 
 ease in mind, I hear, and not in robust health ; and I 
 am just going to visit him. 
 
 I shall have some melancholy scenes with him ; I 
 feel that. Do you remember, when we were in Swit- 
 zerland together, how, as we wound down the Susten 
 and the Grimsel passes, with the perpendicular cliffs 
 some thousand feet abcve us, and a torrent as many 
 feet below, we used to shudder at the thought of two 
 men, wrestling upon that dizzy verge, and striving to 
 throw each other over ! I almost imagine that I am 
 about to engage in such a strife now, with the addi- 
 tional horror that the contest is (as one may say) be- 
 tween father and son. Nay, it is yet more terrible ; 
 for in such a contest there, I almost feel as if I could 
 be contented to employ only a passive resistance. But 
 I must here learn to school my heart and mind to an 
 active and desperate conflict. I fear lest I should do 
 more harm than good ; and I am sure I shall if I suffer 
 impatience and irascibility to prevail. I shall, perhaps, 
 
INTRODUCTION. |^ 
 
 also hear from those lips which once addressed me 
 only in the accents of respect and kindness, language 
 indicative of thati alienation which is the inevitable 
 result of marked dissimilarity of sentiment and char- 
 acter, and which, according to Aristotle's most just 
 description, will often dissolve the truest friendship, 
 at all events, extinguish (just as prolonged absenc^ 
 will) all its vividness. } So impossible is it for the 
 full sympathies of the heart to coexist with absolute 
 antipathy of the intellect ! Nay, I shall, perhaps, have 
 to listen to the language which I cannot but consider 
 as " impiety " and " blasphemy," and yet keep my tem- 
 per. 
 
 I half feel, however, that I am doing him injustice in 
 much of this; and I will not "judge before the time." 
 It cannot be that he will ever cease to regard me with 
 affection, though, perhaps, no longer with reverence* 
 and I am confident that not even scepticism can chill 
 the natural kindness of his disposition. I am persuaded 
 that, even as a sceptic, he is very different from most 
 sceptics, f They cherish doubts; he will be impatient 
 of them. Scepticism is, with them, a welcome guest, 
 and has entered their hearts by an open door ; I am 
 sure that it must have stormed his, and entered it by a 
 breach. ? 
 
 " No," my heart whispers, " I shall still find you sin- 
 cere, Harrington; scorning to take any unfair advantage 
 in argument, and impatient of all sophistry, as I have 
 ever found you. You will be fully aware of the moral 
 significance of the conclusion at which you have arrived, 
 — even that there is no conclusion to be arrived at ; and 
 you will be miserable, — as all must be who have your 
 power to comprehend it." 
 
 Accept this, my dear brother, as a truer delineation 
 of my wanderer than my first thoughts prompted. 
 
O THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 But then all this will only make it the more sad to see 
 him. Still it is a duty, and it must be done. 
 
 I have not the heart at present to give more than the 
 briefest answers to the queries which you so earnestly 
 put to me. No doubt you were startled to find, from 
 the French papers that reached you from Tahiti, and 
 on no less authority than that of the " Apostolic Letter 
 of the Pope," and Cardinal Wiseman's " Pastoral," that 
 this enlightened country was once more, or was on 
 the eve of becoming, a " satellite " of Rome. Subse- 
 quent information, touching the course of the almost 
 unprecedented agitation which England has just passed 
 through, will serve to convince you, either that Pio 
 Nono's supplications to the Virgin and all the English 
 saints, from St. Dunstan downwards, have not been so 
 successful as he flattered himself that they would have 
 been, or that the nation, if it he about to embrace 
 Romanism, has the oddest way of showing it. It has 
 acquired most completely the Jesuitical art of disguising 
 its real feelings; or, as the Anglicans would say, of 
 practising the doctrine of " reserve." To all appear- 
 ance the country is more indomitably Protestant than 
 before. 
 
 Nor need you alarm yourself — as in truth you seem 
 too much inclined to do — about the machinations and 
 triumphs of the Tractarian party. Their insidious at- 
 tempts are no doubt a graver evil than the preposter- 
 ous pretensions of Rome, to which indeed they gave 
 their only chance of success. The evil has been much 
 abated, howeveij by those very assumptions; for it is 
 no longer disguised. Tractarianism is seen to be what 
 many had proclaimed it, — the strict ally of Rome. The 
 hopes it inspired were the causes of the Pope's presump- 
 tion and of Wiseman's folly ; and, by misleading them, 
 It has, to a large extent, undone the projects both of 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Rome and itself. But even before the recent attempts, 
 its successes were very partial. 
 
 The degree to which the infection tainted the clergy- 
 was no criterion at all of the sympathy of the people. 
 Too many of the former were easily converted to a j 
 system which confirmed all their ecclesiastical preju- 
 dices, and favored their sacerdotal pretensions ; which 
 endowed every youngster upon whom the bishop laid 
 hands with " preternatural graces," and with the power 
 of working " spiritual miracles." But the people gen- 
 erally were in little danger of being misled by these 
 absurdities ; and facts ^ even before the recent outbreak, 
 ought to have convinced the clergy, that, if ^/ie?/ thought 
 proper to go to Rome, their flocks were by no means 
 prepared to follow them. Except among some fash- 
 ionable folks here and there, — young ladies to whom 
 ennui, susceptible nerves, and a sentimental imagination 
 made any sort of excitement acceptable ; who turned 
 their arts of embroidery and painting, and their love of 
 music, to " spiritual " uses, and displayed their piety 
 and their accomplishments at the same time, — except 
 among these, I say, and those amongst the more igno- 
 rant of our rural population whom such people influ- 
 enced, the Anglican movement could not boast of any 
 signal success. In the more densely peopled districts, 
 and amongst the middle classes especially, the failure 
 of the thing was often most ignominious. No sooner 
 were the candles placed upon the " altar " than the con- 
 gregation began to thin ; and by the time the " obsolete " 
 rubrics were all admirably observed, the priest faultlessly 
 arrayed, the service properly intoned, and the entire 
 " spiritual " machine set in motion, the people were apt 
 to desert the sacred edifice altogether. It was a pity, 
 doubtless, that, when such admirable completeness in 
 the ecclesiastical equipments had been attained, it should 
 
 .)• 
 
 i 
 
8 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 be found that the machine wo aid not work ; that just 
 when the Church became perfect^ it should fail for so 
 insignificant an accident as the want of a congregation. 
 Yet so it often was. The ecclesiastical play was an 
 admirable rehearsal, and nothing more. Not but what 
 there are many priests who would prefer a " full service," 
 and an ample ceremonial in an empty church, to the 
 simple Gospel in a crowded one ; like Handel, who con- 
 soled himself with the vacant benches at one of his ora- 
 torios by saying that " dey made de music sound de 
 finer." And, in truth, if we adopt to the full the " High 
 Church " theory, perhaps it cannot much matter wheth- 
 er the people be present or not ; the opus operatum of 
 magic rites and spiritual conjuration may be equally 
 effectual. The Oxford tracts said ten years ago, " Be- 
 fore the Reformation, the Church recognized the seven 
 hours of prayer ; however these may have been practi- 
 cally neglected, or hidden in an unknown tongue, there is 
 no estimating what influence this may have had on 
 common people's minds secretlyP Surely you must 
 agree that there is no estimating the efficacy of nobody's 
 hearing services which, if heard by any body, would 
 have been in an unknown tongue. 
 
 I repeat, that the people of England will never yield 
 to Romanism, — unless, indeed, it shall hereafter be as 
 a reaction from infidelity; just as infidelity is now 
 spreading as a reaction from the attempted restoration 
 of Romanism. That England is not "prepared at pres- 
 ent is sufficiently shown by the result of the recent agi- 
 tation. Could it terminate otherwise ? Was it possi- 
 ble that England, in the nineteenth century, could be 
 brought to adopt the superstitions of the Middle Age ? 
 If she could, she would have deserved to be left to the 
 consequences of her besotted folly. We may say, as 
 Milton said, in his day, to the attempted restoration of 
 
INTRODUCTION. 9 
 
 superstitions which the Reformers had already cast off, 
 " O, if we freeze at noon, after their early thaw, let us 
 fear lest the sun for ever hide himself, and turn his 
 orient steps from our ungrateful horizon justly con- 
 demned to be eternally benighted." 
 
 No, it is not from this quarter that England must 
 look for the chief dangers which menace religion, except, 
 indeed, as these dangers are the inevitable, the uniform 
 result of every attempt to revive the obsolete past. 
 The principal peril is from a subtle unbelief, which, in 
 various forms, is sapping the religion of our people, and 
 which, if not checked, Will by and by give the Romish 
 bishops a better title to be called bishops in partibus 
 infidelium than has always been the case. The attempt 
 to make men belieye too much naturally provokes them 
 to believe too little i; and such has been and will be the 
 recoil from the movement towards Rome. It is only 
 one, however, of the causes of that widely diffused in- 
 fidelity which is perhaps the most remarkable phenome- 
 non of our day. Other and more potent causes are to 
 be sought in the philosophic tendencies of the age, and 
 especially a sympathy, in very many minds, with the 
 worst features of Continental speculation. " Infideli- 
 ty ! " you will say. " Do you mean such infidelity as 
 that of Collins and Bolingbroke, Chubb and Tindal?" 
 Why, we have plenty of those sorts too, and — woise ; 
 but the most charming infidelity of the day, a bastard 
 deism infact^ often assumes a different form, — a form, 
 you will be surprised to hear it, which embodies (as 
 many say) the essence of genuine Christianity ! Yes ; 
 be it known to you, that when you have ceased to 
 believe all that is specially characteristic of the New 
 Testament, — its history, its miracles, its peculiar doc- 
 trines, — you may still be a genuine Christian. Chris- 
 tianity is giublimed into an exquisite thing called modern 
 
10 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 " spiritualism." The amount and quality of the infidel 
 "faith" are, indeed, pleasingly diversified when you 
 come to examine individual professors thereof; but it is 
 (always based upon the principle that man is a sufficient 
 light to himself ; that his oracle is within ; so clear as 
 either to supersede the necessity — some say even the 
 possibility — of all external revelation in any ordinary 
 sense of that term A or, when such revelation is in some 
 sense allowed, to constitute man the absolute arbiter of 
 how much or how little of it is worthy to be received. 
 
 This theory we all perceive, of course, cannot fail to 
 recommend itself by the well-knOwn uniformity and dis- 
 tinctness of man's religious notions and the reasonable- 
 ness of his religious practices ! We all know there has 
 never been any want of a revelation ; — of which you 
 have doubtless had full proof among the idolatrous bar- 
 barians you foolishly went to enlighten and reclaim. I 
 wish, however, you had known it fifteen years ago ; I 
 might have had my brother with me still. It is certainly 
 a pity that this internal revelation — the " absolute re- 
 ligion," hidden^ as Mr. Theodore Parker felicitously 
 phrases it, in all religions of all ages and nations, and 
 so strikingly avouched by the entire history of the 
 world — should render itself suspicious by little dis- 
 crepancies in its own utterances among those who be- 
 lieve in it. Yet so it is. Compared with the rest of 
 the worldj few at the best can be got to believe in the 
 sufficiency of the internal light and the superfluity of 
 all external revelation j and yet hardly two of the " little 
 flock " agree. It is the rarest little oracle ! Apollo 
 himself might envy its adroitness in the utterance of 
 ambiguities. One man says that the doctrine of a 
 " future life " is undoubtedly a dictate of the " religious 
 sentiment," — one of the few universal characteristics 
 of all religion ; another declares his " insight " tells him 
 
INTRODUCTION. 11 
 
 nothing of the matter ; one affirms that the supposed 
 chief " intuitions " of the " religious faculty " — belief 
 in the efficacy of prayer, the free will of man, and the 
 immortality of the soul — are at hopeless variance with 
 intellect and logic ; others exclaim, and surely not with- 
 out reason, that this casts upon our faculties the oppro- 
 brium of irretrievable contradictions ! As for those 
 " spiritualists " — and they are, perhaps, at present the 
 greater part — who profess, in some sense, to pay hom- 
 age to the New Testament, they are at infinite variance 
 as to how much — whether 7 J, 30, or 50 per cent of its 
 records — is to be received. Very few get so far as 
 the last. One man is resolved to be a Christian, — 
 none more so, — only he will reject all the peculiar doc- 
 trines and all the supernatural narratives of the New 
 Testament ; another declares that miracles are impossi- 
 ble and " incredible, per se " ; a third thinks they are 
 neither the one nor the other, though it is true that 
 probably a comparatively small portion of those nar- 
 nated in the " book " are established by such evidence 
 as to be worthy of credit. Pray use your pleasure in 
 the selection ; and the more freely, as a fourth is of 
 opinion that, however true, they are really of little con- 
 sequence. While many extol in vague terms of admi- 
 ration the deep " spiritual insight " of the founders of 
 Christianity, they do not trouble themselves to explain 
 how it is that this exquisite illumination left them to 
 concoct that huge mass of legendary follies and mysti- 
 cal doctrines which constitute, according to the modern 
 " spiritualism," the bulk of the records of the New 
 Testament, and by which its authors have managed to 
 mislead the world ; nor how we are to avoid regarding 
 them either as superstitious and fanatical fools or artful 
 and designing knaves, if nine tenths, or seven tenths, of 
 what they record is all to be rejected ; nor, if it be af- 
 
12 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 firmed that they never did record it, but that somebody- 
 else has put these matters into their mouths, how we 
 can be sure that any thing whatever of the small re- 
 [ mainder ever came out of their mouths. All this, how- 
 ever, is of the less consequence, as these gentlemen con- 
 (descend to tell us how we are to separate the " spiritual" 
 gold which faintly streaks the huge mass of impure ore 
 of fable, legend, and mysticism. Each man, it seems? 
 has his own particular spade and mattock in his " spir- 
 itual faculty " ; so off with you to the diggings in these 
 spiritual mines of Ophlr. You will say, Why iiot stay 
 at home, and be content at once, with the advocates 
 of the absolute sufficiency of the internal oracle, to 
 listen to its responses exclusively ? Ask these men — 
 for I am sure I do not know ; I only know that the 
 results are very different — whether the possessor of 
 " insight " listens to its own rare voice, or puts on its 
 spectacles and reads aloud from the New Testament. 
 Generally, as I say, these good folks are resolved that 
 all that is supernatural and specially inspired in the 
 I sacred volume is to be rejected; and as to the rest, 
 I which by the way might be conveniently published as 
 the " Spiritualists' Bible " (in two or three sheets, 48mo, 
 say), that would still require a careful winnowing ; for, 
 while one man tells us that the Apostle Paul, in his 
 intense appreciation of the " spiritual element," made 
 light even of the " resurrection of Christ," and every- 
 where shows his superiority to the beggarly elements of 
 history, dogma, and ritual, another declares that he was 
 so enslaved by his Jewish prejudices and the trumpery 
 he had picked up at the feet of Gamaliel, that he knew 
 but little or next to nothing of the real mystery of the 
 very Gospel he preached ; that while he proclaims that 
 it is " revealed, after having been hidden from ages and 
 generations," he himself manages to hide it afresh. 
 
INTRODUCTION. *' 18 
 
 This you will be told is a perpetual process, going 
 on even now; that as all the "earlier prophets" were 
 unconscious instruments of a purpose beyond their im- 
 mediate range of thought, so the Apostles themselves 
 similarly illustrated the shallowness of their range of 
 thought ; that, in fact, the true significance of the Gos- 
 pel lay beyond them, and doubtless also, for the very 
 same reasons, lies beyond us. In other words, this 1 
 class of spiritualists tell us that Christianity is a " de- ) 
 velopment," as the Papists also assert, and the New 
 Testannent its first imperfect and rudimentary product ; 
 only, unhappily, as the development, it seems, may be 
 things so very different as Popery and Infidelity, we 
 are as far as ever from any criterium as to which, out 
 of the ten thousand possible developments, is the true ; 
 but it is a«matter of the less consequence, since it will, 
 on such reasoning, be always something future. 
 
 "Unhappy Paul!" you will say. Yes, it is no bet 
 tcr with him than it was in our youth some five-and- 
 twenty yeaRS ago. Do you not remember the astute 
 old German Professor in his lecture-room introducing 
 the Apostle as examining with ever-increasing wonder 
 the various contradictory systems which the perverse- 
 ness of exegesis had extracted from his Epistles, and at 
 length, as he saw one from which every feature of 
 Christianity had been erased, exclaiming in a fright, 
 " Was ist das ? " But I will not detain you on the 
 vagaries of the new school of spiritualists. I shall hear 
 enough of them, I have no doubt, from Harrington ; he 
 wdll riot in their extravagances and contradictions as a 
 justification of his own scepticism. In very truth their 
 authors are fit for nothing else than to be recruiting 
 oflScers for undisguised infidelity ;j and this has been the 
 consistent termination with very many of their converts. 
 Yet many of them tell us, after putting men on this 
 
 2 
 
14 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 inclined plane of smooth ice, that it is the only place 
 where they can be secure against tumbling into Infi- 
 delity, Atheism, Pantheism, Scepticism. Some of the 
 Oxford Tractarians informed us, a little before crossing 
 the border, that their system was the surest bulwark 
 against Romanism ; and in the same way is this exqui- 
 site " spiritualism " a safeguard against infidelity. 
 
 Between many of our modern " spiritualists " and the 
 Romanists there is a parallelism of movement abso- 
 lutely ludicrous. You may chance to hear both de- 
 claiming, with equal fervor, against "intellect^' and 
 " logic" as totally incompetent to decide on " religious " 
 or " spiritual " truth, and in favor of a " faith " which 
 disclaims all alliance with them. You may chance to 
 hear them both insisting on an absolute submission to 
 an "infallible authority" other than the Bible; the one 
 external, — that is, the Pope; the other internal, — that 
 is, " Spiritual Insight " ; both exacting absolute sub- 
 mission, the one to the outward oracle, the Church, 
 the other to the inward oracle, himself; both insisting 
 that the Bible is but the first imperfect product of gen- 
 uine Christianity, which is perfected by a "develop- 
 ment," L>ough as to the direction of that development 
 they certainly do not agree. Both, if I may judge by 
 some recent speculations, recoil from the Bible even 
 more than they do from one another; and/ Doth would 
 get rid of it, — one by locking it up, and the other by 
 tearing it to tattersi ; Thus receding in opposite direc- 
 tions round the circie, they are found placed side by 
 side at the same extremity of a diameter, at the other 
 extremity of which is the — Bible. The resemblances, 
 in some instances, are so striking, that one is reminded 
 of(that little animal, the fresh-water polype^ whose ex- 
 ternal structure is so absolutely a mere prolongation 
 of the internal, that you may turn him inside out, and 
 all the functions of life go on just as well as beforcj^ 
 
INTRODUCTION. 15 
 
 It is impossible to convey to you an adequate idea of 
 the bouleversement which has taken place in our religious 
 relations, — even in each man's little sphere. It is as if 
 vthe religious world were a masquerade/ where you cease 
 to feel surprise at finding some familiar acquaintance 
 disguised in the most fantastical costume. There is our 
 
 old friend W , rigorously, as you know, educated in 
 
 his old father's Evangelical notions, ready to be a con- 
 fessor for the two wax candles, even though unlighted, 
 and to be a martyr for them if but lighted. His cousin 
 in the opposite direction has found even the most meagre 
 naturalism too much for him, and avows himself a Pan- 
 theist. L , the son, you remember, of an independ- 
 ent minister, is ready to go nobly to death in defence of 
 the prerogatives of his " apostolic succession " ;( and has 
 not the slightest doubts that he can make out his spir- 
 itual genealogy, without a broken link, from the first 
 Bishop of Rome, downwards! — though, poor fellow, it 
 would puzzle him to say who was his great-grandfathery 
 
 E , you are aware, has long since joined the Church 
 
 of Rome, and has disclosed such a bottomless abyss 
 of "faith," that whole cart-loads of medigeval fables, 
 abandoned even by Romanists (who, by the wa}^, stand 
 fairly aghast at his insatiable appetite), have not been 
 able to fill it. All the saints in the Roman Hagiography 
 cannot work miracles as fast as he can credit them. On 
 the other hand, his brother has signalized himself by an 
 equal facility of stripping himself, fragment by frag- 
 ment, of his early creed, till at last he walks through 
 this bleak world in such a gossamer gauze of transpar- 
 ent "spiritualism," that it makes you both shiver and 
 
 blush to look at him. Your old acquaintance P , 
 
 true to his youthful qualities (which now have most 
 abundant exercise), who has the " charity which be- 
 lieveth all things," though certainly not that which 
 
16 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 "beareth all things," goes about apologizing for all 
 religious systems, and finding truth in every thing; — 
 our beloved Harrington, on the other hand, bewildered 
 by all this confusion, finds truth — in nothing. 
 
 Yet you must not imagine that our religious maladies 
 are at present more than sporadic; or that the great 
 bulk of our population are at present affected by them : 
 they still believe the Bible to be the revealed Word of 
 God. Should these diseases ever become epidemic^ they 
 will soon degenerate into a still worse type. Many 
 apostles of Atheism and Pantheism amongst our lower 
 classes say (and perhaps truly), that this modern " spirit- 
 ualism " is but a transition state. In that case, you 
 will have to recall, with a deeper meaning, the song of 
 Byron, which you told me gave you such anguish, 
 as you paced the deck on the evening in which you 
 lost sight of Old England, — "My native land, good 
 night!" 
 
 I have sometime;? mournfully asked myself, whether 
 the world may not yet want a few experiments as to 
 whether it cannot get on better without Christianity 
 and the Bible ; but I hope England is not destined to 
 be the laboratory. 
 
 I almost envy your happier lot. I picture to myself 
 your unsophisticated folks, just reclaimed from the 
 grossest barbarism and idolatry, receiving the simple 
 Gospel (as it ought to be received) with grateful won 
 der, as Heaven's own method of making man wise and 
 happy ; reverencing the Bible as what it is, — an infal- 
 lible guide through this world to a better; " a light shin- 
 ing in a dark place." They listen with unquestioning 
 simplicity to its disclosures, which find an echo in their 
 own hearts, and with a reverence which is due to a 
 volume which has transformed them from savages into 
 men, and from idolaters into Christians. They are not 
 
INTRODUCTION. 17 
 
 troubled with doubts of its authenticity or its divinity; 
 with talk of various readings and discordant manu- 
 scripts ; with subtle theories for proving that its miracles 
 are legends, or its history myths, or with any other of 
 the infinite vagaries of perverted learning. Neither 
 are they perplexed with the assurances of those who tell 
 them that, though divine, the Bible is, in fact, a most 
 dangerous book, and who would request them, in their 
 new-born enlightenment, to be pleased to shut their 
 eyes, and to return to a religion of ceremony quite as 
 absurd and almost as cruel as the polytheism they have 
 renounced. I imagine you and your little flock in the 
 Sabbath stillness of those mountains and green valleys, 
 of which you give me such pleasant descriptions, ex- 
 hibiting a specimen of a truly primitive Christianity; 
 I imagine that the peace within is as deep as the tran- 
 quillity without. 
 
 Yet I know it cannot be; for you and your flock are 
 merij — and that one word alone suffices to dissolve the 
 charm. You and they have cares, and worse than 
 cares, which make you like all the rest of the world; 
 for guilt and sorrow are of no clime, and the " happy 
 valley " never existed except in the pages of Rasselas. 
 You are, doubtless, plagued by every now and then 
 finding that some half-reclaimed cannibal confesses that 
 he has not quite got over his gloating recollections of 
 the delicacies of his diabolical cuisine; or that fash- 
 ionable converts turn with a yearning heart, not to the- 
 atres and balls, but to the " dear remembrance " of the 
 splendors of tattoo and amocos; or that some unlucky 
 wretch who has not mastered the hideous passions of 
 his old paganism has almost battered out the brains of 
 a fellow-disciple in a sudden paroxysm of anger; or 
 that some timid soul is haunted with half-sub -^ued sus- 
 picions that some great goggle-eyed idol, with whose 
 
Jr 
 
 18 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 worship his whole existence has been associated, is not, 
 what St. Paul declares it is, absolutely " nothing in the 
 world." And then you vex your soul about these 
 things, and worry yourself with apprehensions lest " you 
 should have labored in vain and spent your strength 
 for naught " ; and lastly, trouble yourself still more lest 
 you should lose your temper and your patience into the 
 bargain. 
 
 Yes, your scenery is doubtless beautiful, as the 
 sketches you have sent me sufficiently show ; especially 
 that scene at the foot of the mountain Moraii or Mauroi, 
 for I cannot quite make out the pencil-marks. But, 
 beautiful as they are, they are not more so than those 
 which greet my eye even now from my study window. 
 
 / No, there is no fault to be found with external nature ; 
 
 ' it is man only who spoils it all. I see nothing in sun, 
 moon, or stars, in mountain, forest, or stream, that 
 needs to be altered ; we are the blot on this fair world. 
 " O man," I am sometimes ready to exclaim, " what a 
 
 " ; but I check myself, for as Correggio whispered 
 
 to himself exultingly, " I also am a painter," so must 
 I, though with very different feelings, say, '' I also am 
 a man." Johnson said, that every man probably knows 
 worse of himself than he certainly knows of most other 
 men ; and so I am determined that misanthropy, if it 
 is to be indulged at all, shall, like its opposite charity, 
 "begin at home." 
 
 Yet, now I think better of it, it shall not begin at 
 all; for I recollect that He also was a "man," who 
 was infinitely more; who has penetrated even this 
 cloudy shrine of clay with the effulgence of His glory ; 
 and so let me resolve that our common humanity shall 
 be held sacred for His sake, and pitied for its own. 
 Thus ends my little, transient fit of spleen, and thus 
 may it ever end. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 19 
 
 May we feel more and more, my dearest brother, 
 the interior presence of that "guest of guests," that 
 Divine Impersonation of Truth, Rectitude, and Love, 
 whose image has had more power to soothe and tran- 
 quillize, stimulate and fortify, the human heart, than all 
 the philosophies ever devised by man ; who has not 
 merely left us rules of conduct, expressed with incom- 
 parable force and comprehensiveness, and illustrated by 
 images of unequalled pathos and beauty; who was not 
 merely (and yet, herein alone, how superior to all other 
 riasters) the living type of His own glorious doctrine, 
 and affects us as we gaze upon Him with that trans- 
 forming influence which the studious contemplation of 
 all excellence exerts by a necessary law of our nature ; 
 but whose Life and Death include all motives which 
 can enforce His lessons on humanity ; — motives all 
 intensely animated by the conviction that He is a Liv- 
 ing Personality, in communion with our own spirits, 
 and attracted towards us by all the sympathies of a 
 friendship truly Divine ; " who can be touched with 
 the feelings of our infirmities, though Himself without 
 sin." May He become so familiar to our souls, that no 
 suggestions of evil from within, no incursion of evil 
 from without, shall be so swift and sudden that the 
 thought of Him shall not be at least as near to our 
 spirits, intercept the treachery of our infirm nature, and 
 guard that throne which He alone deserves to fill ; till, 
 at every turn and every posture of our earthly life, we 
 may realize a mental image of that countenance of 
 divine compassion bent upon us, and that voice of 
 gentle instruction murmuring in our ears its words of 
 heavenly wisdom ; till, whenever tempted to deviate 
 from the " narrow path," we may hear Him whispering, 
 " Will ye also go away ? " when hated by the world, — 
 ** Ye know that it hated me before it hated you " / when 
 
20 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 called to perform some difficult duty, — " If ye love me, 
 keep my commandments " ; when disposed to make an 
 idol of any thing on earth, — " He that loveth father or 
 mother more than me is not worthy of me" ; when in 
 suffering and trial, — " Whom I love I rebuke and 
 chasten " ; when our way is dark, — " What I do thou 
 knowest not now, but thou shalt know hereafter " ; till, 
 in a word, as we hear His faintest footsteps approaching 
 our hearts, and His gentle signal there according to His 
 own beautiful image, " Behold, I stand at the door and 
 knock," our souls may hasten to welcome the heav- 
 enly guest. 
 
 So may it ever be with you and me ! And now I 
 find the very thought of these things has cured all my 
 dark and turbulent feelings, as indeed it ever does ; 
 and I can say before I go to rest, " O man, my broth- 
 er, I am at peace with thee I " 
 
 Ah! what an empire is His! How, even at the 
 antipodes, will these lines touch in your heart a chord 
 responsive to that which vibrates in mine I .... I go 
 to Harrington in a few days, and as our conversation 
 (perhaps, alas ! our controversies) will turn upon some 
 of the most momentous religious topics of the day, I 
 shall keep an exact journal — Boswellize^ in fact — for 
 you, as well as I can ; and how well some of my earlier 
 days have practised my memory for this humble office 
 you know. I shall have a pleasure in this, not only 
 because you will be glad to hear all I can communicate 
 respecting one you love so well, but also because in 
 this way, perhaps, I shall in part fulfil your earnest 
 request to let you know the state of religion amongst 
 us. You will expect, of course, to find only that portion 
 of our conversations reported which relates to these 
 subjects; but I anticipate, in discussing others, some 
 compensation for the misery which will, I fear, attend 
 the discussion of these. 
 
INTRODUCIION. ^* 
 
 Thank your conv ert Outai for his present of his grim 
 idol. It is certainly " brass for gold," considering what 
 I sent him ; but do not tell him so. If a man gives us 
 his gods, what more can he do ? And yet, it seems, he 
 may be the richer for the loss. Never was a question 
 more senseless than that of the idolatrous fool, — " Ye 
 have taken away my gods, and what else have I left ? " 
 His godship was a little injured in his transit; but 
 he was very perfect in deformity before, and his ugli- 
 ness could not, by any accident, be improved. I have 
 put him into a glass case with some stuffed birds, at 
 which he ogles, with his great eyes, in a manner not 
 altogether divine. His condition, therefore, is pretty 
 nearly that to which prophecy has doomed all his tribe ; 
 if not cast to the " moles and the bats," it is to the 
 owls and parrots. I cannot help looking at him some- 
 times with a sort of respect as contrasted with his wor- 
 shippers ; for though they have been fools enough to 
 worship him, he has, at least, not been fool enough to 
 worship them. Yet even they are better than the Pan- 
 theist, who must regard it and every thing else, himself 
 included, as a fragment of divinity. I fear that, if I 
 could regard either the Pantheist or myself as divine^ 
 nothing in the world could keep me from blasphemy 
 every day and all day long. 
 
 "Again!" you will say, "my brother; is not that 
 old vein of bitterness yet exhausted ? " But be it known 
 to you that that last sarcasm was especially intended 
 for my own behoof. She is a sly jade, — conscience ; 
 like many other folks, she has a trick of expressing her 
 rebukes in general language ; as thus : " What a con- 
 temptible set of creatures the race of men are ! " — hop- 
 ing that some folks will practically take it to heart. 
 Sometimes I do ; and sometimes, I suppose, like my 
 fellows, I look very grave, and approvingly say, " It is 
 
22 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 but too true," with the air of one who philosophically 
 assents to a proposition in which he is totally uninter- 
 ested ; whereupon conscience becomes outrageous and 
 — personal. 
 
 I can easily imagine what you tell me, that you 
 hardly know the difference between the missionaries of 
 different denominations, and are very much troubled to 
 remember, at times, which is which. It is a natural 
 consequence of the relations in which you stand to 
 heathenism. I fancy the sight of men worshipping an 
 idol with four heads and twice as many hands must 
 considerably abate impressions of the importance of 
 some of the controversies nearer home. Do you re- 
 member the passage in " Woodstock," in which our old 
 favorite represents the Episcopalian Rochecliffe and 
 the Presbyterian Holdenough meeting unexpectedly in 
 prison, after many year's of separation, during which 
 one had thought the other dead ? How sincerely glad 
 they were, and how pleasantly they talked ; when lo ! 
 an unhappy reference to the " bishopric of Titus " grad- 
 ually abated the fervor of their charity, and inflamed 
 that of their zeal, even till they at last separated in 
 mutual dudgeon, and sat glowering at each other in 
 their distant corners with looks in which the " Episco- 
 palian" and " Presbyterian" were much more evident 
 than the "Christian"; — and so they persevered till 
 the sudden summons to them and their fellow-prison- 
 ers, to prepare for instant execution, dissolved as with a 
 charm the anger they had felt, and " Forgive me, O my 
 brother," and " I have sinned against thee, my brother," 
 broke from their lips as they took what they thought 
 would be a last farewell. 
 
 I imagine that a feeling a little resembling this, 
 though from a different cause, makes it impossible for 
 you to remember, in the presence of such spiritual hor 
 
INTRODUCTION. 2^ 
 
 rors as heathenism presents, the immense importance 
 of many of the controversies so hotly waged at home. 
 I can conceive (as some of our zealots would say) that 
 you are tempted to a certain degree of insensibility and 
 defection of heart ; that you no longer discern the mo- 
 mentous superiority of "sprinkling" over "immersion," 
 or of "immersion" over "sprinkling"; that the "wax 
 candles," " lighted " and " unlighted," appear to you 
 alike insignificant; that even the jus divinum of any 
 system of ecclesiastical government is sometimes not 
 discerned with absolute precision; and, in short, that 
 you look with contemptuous wonder on half our. 
 "great" controversies. If I mistake not, things are/ 
 coming to that pass amongst us, that we shall soon 
 think of them almost with contemptuous wonder too. - 
 Vale^ — et ora pro me, — as old Luther used to say at 
 the end of his letters. I will write again soon. 
 
 Your affectionate Brother, 
 
 F. B. 
 
24 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 Grange, July 7, 1851. 
 
 My dear Brother : — 
 
 I HAVE been with Harrington a week : I am glad to 
 say that I was under some erroneous impressions when 
 I ^vrote my letter. He is not a universal sceptic, — he 
 is only a sceptic in relation to theological and ethical 
 truth. " Alas ! " you will say, " it is an exception 
 which embraces more than the general rule ; it little 
 matters what else he believes." 
 
 True ; and yet there is consolation in it ; for other- 
 wise it would have been impossible to hold intercourse 
 with him at all. If he had reaso7ied in order to prove 
 to me that human reason cannot be trusted, or I to 
 convince one who affirmed its universal falsity, it were 
 hard to say whether he or I had been the greater fool. 
 Your universal sceptic — if he choose to affect that 
 character, — no man is it — is impregnable; his true 
 emblem is the hedgehog ensphered in his prickles; that 
 is, as long as you are observing him. For if you do 
 not thus irritate his amour propre^ and put him on the 
 defensive, he will unroll himself. Speaking, reasoning, 
 acting, like the rest of the world, on the implied truth- 
 fulness of the faculties whose falsity he affirms, he will 
 save you the trouble of confuting him, by confuting 
 himself. 
 
 And I am glad, for another reason, that Harrrington 
 
 does not affect this universal scepticism : for whereas, 
 
 by the confession of its greatest masters, it is at best 
 
 *)" but the play of a subtle intellect, so it does not afford 
 
 a very flattering picture of an intellect that affects it. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 25 
 
 I should have been mortified, I confess, had Harrington 
 been chargeable with such a foible. 
 
 It is true that, in another aspect, all this makes the 
 case more desperate ; for his scepticism, so far as it 
 extends, is deep and genuine ; it is no play of an in- 
 genious subtilty, nor the affectation of singularity with 
 him ; — and my prognostications of the misery which 
 such a mind must feel from driving over the tempestu- 
 ous ocean of life under bare poles, without chart or 
 compass, are, I can see, verified. One fact, I confess, 
 gives me hopes, and often affords me pleasure in listen- 
 ing to him. He is an impartial doubter; he doubts 
 whether Christianity be true ; but he also doubts wheth- 
 er it be false; and, either from his impatience of the 
 theories which infidelity proposes in its place, as inspir- 
 ing yet stronger doubts, or in revenge for the peace of 
 which he has been robbed, he never seems more at home 
 than in ridiculing the confidence and conceit of that 
 internal oracle, which professes to solve the problems 
 which, it seems, Christianity leaves in darkness ; and in 
 .pushing the principles on which infidelity rejects the 
 New Testament to their legitimate conclusion. 
 
 I told you, in general, the origin and the progress of 
 his scepticism. I suspect there are causes (perhaps not 
 distinctly felt by him) which have contributed to the 
 result. These, it may be, I shall never know ; but it 
 is hardly possible not to suppose that some bitter ex- 
 perience has contributed to cloud, thus portentously, 
 the brightness of his youth. Something, I am confi- 
 dent, in connection with his long residence abroad, has 
 tended to warp his young intellect from its straight 
 growth. The heart, as usual, has had to do with the 
 logic; and "has been whispering reasons which the 
 reason cannot comprehend." I suspect that passionate 
 hopes have been buried^ — whether in the grave, I know 
 
26 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 not. I must add, that an indirect and most potential 
 cause, not indeed of the origination, yet of the continu- 
 ance, of his state of mind, must be sought in what the 
 world would call his good fortune. His maiden aunt 
 by the father's side left her favorite nephew her pleasant, 
 old-fashioned, somewhat gloomy, but picturesque and 
 
 comfortable house in shire, about fifty or sixty 
 
 acres in land, and three or four hundred a year into the 
 bargain. Poor old lady ! I heartily wish she had kept 
 him out of possession by living to a hundred ; or, dying, 
 
 had left every farthing to " endow a college or a 
 
 cat." To Harrington she has left a very equivocal her- 
 itage. For with this and his little patrimony he is en- 
 tirely placed above the necessity of professional life, 
 and fully qualified to live (Heaven help him !) as a 
 gentleman; — but, unhappily, as a gentleman whose 
 nature is deeply speculative, — whose life has been one 
 of study, — and who has no active tastes or habits to 
 correct the morbid portions of his character, and the 
 dangers of his position. With his views already unset- 
 tled, he retired a few months ago to this comparative 
 solitude ; (for such it is, though the place is not many 
 
 miles from the learned city of ;) and partly from 
 
 the tendencies of his own rnind, partly from want of 
 some powerful stimulus from without, he soon acquired 
 the pernicious habit of almost constant seclusion in his 
 library, where he revolves, as if fascinated, the philoso- 
 phy of doubt, or some equally distressing themes ; all 
 which has now issued as you see. The contemplative 
 and the active life are both necessary to man, no doubt ; 
 but in how different proportions ! 
 
 To live as Harrington has lived of late, is to breathe 
 little but azote. I believe that all these ill effects would 
 have been, though not obviated, at least early cured, 
 had he been compelled to mingle in active life, — to 
 
INTRODUCTION. 27 
 
 make his livelihood by a profession. The bracing air 
 of the world would have dissipated these vapors which 
 have gathered over his soul. In very truth, I half wish 
 that he could now be stripped of his all, and compelled 
 to become hedger and ditcher. It would almost be a 
 kindness to ruin him by engaging him in some of the 
 worst railway speculations ! 
 
 I found him all that I had promised to find him ; 
 unchanged towards myself ; sometimes cheerful, though 
 oftener melancholy, or, at least, to all appearances en- 
 nuye ; with more causticity and sarcasm in his humor, 
 but without misanthropy; and I must add, with the 
 same logical fairness, the same abhorrence of sophistry, 
 which were his early characteristics. 
 
 But the journal of my visit, which I am most dili- 
 gently keeping, wiU more fully inform you of his state 
 of mind. 
 
 F. B. 
 
28 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 Journal of a Visit, etc. 
 
 July 1, 1851. 
 
 I arrived at Grange this day. In the even- 
 ing, as Harrington and myself were conversing in the 
 library, I availed myself of a pause in the conversation 
 to break the ice in relation to the topic which lay near- 
 est my heart, by saying : — 
 
 " And so you have become, they tell me, a universal 
 sceptic ? " 
 
 " Not quite," he replied, throwing one of his feet 
 over the edge of the sofa on which he was reclining, 
 and speaking rather dogmatically (I thought) for a 
 sceptic. " Not quite : but in relation to religion I have 
 certainly become convinced that certainty, like pride, 
 was not made for man, and that it is in vain for man 
 to seek it." 
 
 I was amused at the contradiction of a certainty of 
 universal uncertainty, as well as at the discovery that 
 there was nothing to be discovered. 
 
 He noticed my smile, and divined its cause. 
 
 " Forgive me," he said, " that, like you Christians and 
 believers of all sorts, I sometimes find theory discordant 
 with practice. The generality of people are, you know, 
 a little inconsistent with their creed ; suffer me to be so 
 with mine." 
 
 " I have no objection, Harrington, in the world ; the 
 more inconsistent you are, the better I shall like you ; 
 you have my free leave to be, in relation to scepticism, 
 just what the Antinomian is in relation to Christianity ; 
 or as true a sceptic as he was a true Churchman who 
 showed hi? good principles, according to Dr. Johnson, 
 
A GENUINE SCEPTIC. 29 
 
 by never passing a church without taking off his hat, 
 though he never went into it ; or even as FalstafF, who 
 had forgotten * what the inside of a church was made 
 of.' ) I shall be contented indeed to see you as little at- 
 tached to your no-truth^ as the generality of Christians 
 are to their truth." 
 
 " I thank you," said he, a little sarcastically, " I doubt 
 if I shall ever be able to reach so perfect a pitch of in- 
 consistency. But are you wise, my dear uncle, in this 
 taunt ? What an argument have you suggested to me, 
 if I thought it worth while to make use of it ! How 
 have you surrendered, without once thinking of the 
 consequences, the practical power of Christianity ! " 
 
 I began to fear that there would be a good deal of 
 sharp-shooting between us. 
 
 " I have surrendered nothing," I replied. " If every 
 thing is to be abandoned, which, though professedly the 
 subject of man's conviction, he fails to reduce to prac 
 tice, his creed will be short enough. Christianity, how 
 ever, will be in no worse condition than morals, the the- 
 ory of which has ever been in lamentable advance of 
 the practice. And least of all can scepticism stand 
 such a test, of which you have just given a passing 
 illustration. Of this system, or rather no-system, there 
 has never been a consistent votary, if we except Pyrrho 
 himself; and whether he were not an insincere sceptic, 
 the world will always be most sincerely sceptical. But 
 forgive me my passing gibe. In wishing you to be as 
 inconsistent as nine tenths of Christians are, I did not 
 mean to prejudice your arguments, such as they are. I 
 know it is not in your power to be otherwise than in- 
 consistent; and I shall always have that argument 
 against you, so far as it is one." 
 
 " And so far as it is one," he replied, " I shall always 
 have the same argument against you." 
 
 8* 
 
30 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 "Be it so," I replied, " for the present : I am unwill- 
 ing to engage in polemical strife with you, the very 
 first evening on which I have seen you for so long a 
 time. I would much rather hear a chapter of your past 
 travels and adventures, which you know your few and 
 brief letters — but I will not reproach you — left me in 
 such ignorance of." 
 
 He complied with my request ; and in the course of 
 conversation informed me of many circumstances which 
 had formed steps in that slow gradation by which he 
 had reached his present state of mind; a state which 
 he did not affect to conceal. But still I felt sure there 
 were other causes which he did not mention. 
 
 At length I said, " You must give me the title of an 
 t^ld friend, — a father, Harrington, I might almost say," 
 ■ — and the tears came into my eyes, — " to talk hereaf- 
 ter fully with you of your so certain uncertainty about 
 the only topics which supremely affect the happiness of 
 man." 
 
 I told him, and I spoke it in no idle compliment, that 
 I was convinced he was far enough from being one of 
 those shallow fools who are inclined to scepticism be- 
 cause they shrink from the trouble of investigating evi- 
 dence ; who find so much to be said for this, and so 
 much for that, that they conclude that there is no 
 truth, simply because they are too indolent to seek it. 
 " This," said I, " is the plea of intellectual Sybarites 
 with w^hom you have nothing in common. And as lit- 
 tle do you sympathize with those dishonest, though not 
 always shallow thinkers, who take refuge in alleged 
 uncertainty of evidence, because they are afraid of pur- 
 y suing it to unwelcome conclusions ; who are sceptics 
 on the most singular and inconsistent of all grounds, 
 presumption. I know you are none of these." 
 
 " I am, I think, none of these," said he quietly. 
 
A GENUINE SCEPTIC. dl 
 
 " You are not : and your manner and countenance 
 proclaim it yet more strongly than your words. The 
 only genuine effect of a sincere scepticism is and must 
 be, not the complacent and frivolous humor which too 
 often attaches to it, but a mournful confession of the 
 Melancholy condition to which, if true, the theory re- 
 duces the sceptic himself and all mankind.") 
 
 Of all the paradoxes humanity exhibits, surely there 
 are none more wonderful than the complacency with 
 which scepticism often utters its doubts, and the tran- 
 quillity which it boasts as the perfection of its system ! 
 Such a state of mind is utterly inconsistent with the 
 genuine realization and true-hearted reception of the 
 theory. On such subjects such a creature as man can- 
 not be in doubt, and really feel his doubts, without 
 being anxious and miserable. When I hear some 
 youth telling me, with a simpering face, that he does not 
 knov), or pretend to say^ whether there be a God, or not , 
 or whether, if there be. He takes any interest in human ) 
 affairs; or whether, if He does, it much imports us to"- 
 know; or whether, if He has revealed that knowledge, , 
 it is possible or impossible for us to ascertain it ; when ) 
 I hear him further saying, that meantime he is disposed'^ 
 to make himself very easy in the midst of these uncer- 
 tainties, and to await the great revelation of the future 
 with philosophical, that is, being interpreted, with idiotic ) 
 tranquillity, I see that, in point of fact, he has never en- | 
 tered into the question at all ; that he has failed to ' 
 realize the terrible moment of the questions (however 
 they may be decided) of which he speaks with such 
 amazing flippancy. 
 
 It is too often the result of thoughtlessness ; of a wish 
 to get rid of truths unwelcome to the heart ; of a vain 
 love of paradox, or perhaps, in many cases, (as a friend 
 of mine said,) of an amiable wish to frighten " mammas 
 
32 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 and maiden aunts." But let us be assured that a frivo- 
 lous sceptic, — a sceptic indeed, — after duly pondering 
 and feeling the doubts he professes to embrace, is an 
 impossibility. "What may be expected in the genuine 
 sceptic is a modest hope that he may be mistaken ; a 
 desire to be confuted ; a retention of his convictions as 
 if they were a guilty secret; or the promulgation of 
 them only as the utterance of an agonized heart, unable 
 to suppress the language of its misery ; a dread of mak- 
 ing proselytes, — even as men refrain from exposing 
 their sores or plague-infected garments in the eyes of 
 the world. The least we can expect from him is that 
 mood of mind which Pascal so sublimely says becomes 
 
 the Atheist "Is this, then, a thing to be said with 
 
 gayety ? Is it not rather a thing to be said with tears, 
 as the saddest thing in the world ? " 
 
 The current of conversation after a while, somehow, 
 swept us round again to the point I had resolved to quit 
 for this evening. " But since we are there," said I, " I 
 wish you would in brief tell me why, when you doubted 
 of Christianity,'you did not stop at any of those harbors 
 of refuge which, in our time especially, have been so 
 plentifully provided for those who reject the New Tes- 
 tament ? You are not ignorant, I know, of the writings 
 of Mr. Theodore Parker, and other modern Deists. 
 How is it that none of them even transiently satisfied 
 you ? An ingenious eclecticism founded on them has 
 satisfied, you see, your old college friend, George Fel- 
 lowes, of whom I hear rare things. He is far enough 
 from being a sceptic." 
 
 " Why," said he, laughing, " it is quite true that 
 George is not a sceptic. He has believed more and 
 disbelieved more, and both one and the other for less 
 reason, than any other man I know. He used to send 
 me the strangest letters when I was abroad, and almost 
 
A VERSATILE BELIEVER. 33 
 
 every one presented him under some new phase. No, 
 he is no sceptic. If he has rejected almost every thing, 
 he has also embraced almost every thing ; at each point 
 in his career, his versatile faith has found him some 
 system to replace that he had abandoned ; and he is 
 now a dogmatist par excellence^ for he has adopted a 
 theory of religion which formally abjures intellect and 
 logic, and is as sincerely abjured by them. If the diffi- 
 culties he has successively encountered had been seen 
 all at once, I fancy he would have been much where I 
 am. Poor George ! < Sufficient unto the day,' with 
 him, is the theology ' thereof ! I picture him to myself 
 going out of a morning, with his new theological dress 
 upon him, and, chancing to meet with some friend, who 
 protests that there is some thing or other not quite 
 * comme il faut,' he proceeds with infinite complacency 
 to alter that portion of his attire ; the new costume is 
 found equally obnoxious to the criticism of somebody 
 else, and off it goes like the rest." 
 
 This was a ludicrous, but not untrue, representation 
 of George Fellowes's mind ; only the " friend " in the 
 image must be supposed to mean his own wayward 
 fancy ; for he is not particularly amenable (though very 
 amiable) to external influences. So dominant, how- 
 ever, is present feeling and impulse, or so deficient is he 
 in comprehensiveness, that he often takes up with the 
 most trumpery arguments ; that is, for a few days at » 
 time. Yet he does not want acuteness. I have known 
 him shine strongly (as has been said of some one else) 
 upon an angle of a subject; but he never sheds over its 
 whole surface an equable illumination. Where evi- 
 dence is complicated and various, and consists of many 
 opposing or modifying elements, he never troubles him- 
 self to compute the sum total, and strike a fair balance. 
 He stands aghast in the presence of an objection which 
 
34 THE ECLIPSE OF FAlTHi 
 
 he cannot solve, and loses all presence of mind in its 
 contemplation. He seldom considers whether there are 
 not still greater objections on the other side, nor how 
 much farther, if a principle be just, it ought to carry 
 him. The mode in which he looks at a subject often 
 reminds me of the way in which the eye, according to 
 ^metaphysicians, surveys an extensive landscape. It 
 / sees, they say, only a point at a time, punctum visi- 
 bile, which is perpetually shifting ; and the impression 
 of the whole is in fact a rapid combination, by means 
 of memory, of perceptions all but coexistent ; if the 
 attention be strongly fixed upon some one object, the rest 
 of the landscape comparatively fades from the view. 
 Now George Fellowes seemed to me, in a survey of a 
 large subject, to have an incomparable faculty of seeing 
 the minimum visibile, and that so ardently, that all the 
 rest of the landscape vanished at the moment from his 
 perceptions. 
 
 " "Well," said I, smiling, " you must not blame him 
 for his not reaching at once and per saltum your posi- 
 tion. He has been more deliberate in stripping himself. 
 Yet he has come on pretty well. You ought not to 
 despair of him. I wonder at what point he is now." 
 
 " You may ask him to-morrow," said he, " for I am 
 expecting him here to spend a few weeks with me. At 
 whatever point he may be in these days of * progress,' 
 as they are called, he does not know that I am already 
 arrived at the ne plus ultra; for my letters to him were 
 yet briefer and rarer than to you ; and I never touched 
 on these topics. "Where would have been the use of 
 asking counsel of such an oracle ? " 
 
 I said I should be glad to see him. " But I shall be 
 still better pleased to hear from you, why you are dis- 
 satisfied with any such system as his, and especially 
 why you say he ought in consistency to go much far- 
 ther." 
 
A VERSATILE BELIEVER. 35 
 
 " I am far from saying that my reasons will be satis- 
 factory, but I will endeavor, if you wish it, to justify 
 my opinion." 
 
 " I shall certainly expect no less," replied I. " You 
 are strangely altered, if you are willing to assert ^vith- 
 out attempting to prove ; and if you were altered, I am 
 not. When will you let me hear you ? " 
 
 " O, in a day or two, when I have had time to put 
 my thoughts on paper; but, if I mistake not, some of 
 the most important points will be discussed before that, 
 for Fellowes^J[ hear^^ is a very knight-errant of ' spiritu- 
 alism,' and it is a thousand to one but he attempts to 
 convert me. I intend to let him have full opportunity." 
 
 " I hardly know," said I, " Harrington, whether I 
 wish him success or not. But one thing, surely, all 
 must admire in him : I mean his candor. What less 
 than this can prompt him, after abandoning with such 
 extraordinary facility so many creeds and fragments of 
 creeds, after travelling round the whole circle of theology, 
 to confess with such charming simplicity the whole his- 
 tory of his mental revolutions, and expose himself to 
 the charge of unimaginable caprice, — of theological 
 coquetry ? I protest to you that, a priori^ I should have 
 thought it impossible that any man could have made 
 so many and such violent turns in so short a time with- 
 out a dislocation of all the joints of his soul, — without 
 incurring the danger of a ' universal anchylosis.' " 
 
 " One would imagine," said Harrington, with a laugh, 
 "that, in your estimate, his mind resembles that in- 
 genious toy by which the union of the various colored 
 rays of light is illustrated : the red, the yellow, the 
 blue, the green, and so forth, are distinctly painted on f^ 
 the compartments of a card ; but no sooner are they 
 put into a state of rapid revolution than the whole 
 appears white. Such, it seems, is the appearance of 
 
S6 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 George Fellowes in that rapid gyration to which he has 
 been subjected: the party-colored rays of his various 
 creeds are lost sight of, and the pure white of hi» ' can- 
 dor ' is alone visible ! " 
 
 " For myself," said I, " I feel in some measure incom- 
 petent to pronounce on his present system. "When I 
 saw him for a short time a few months ago, he told me 
 that, though his versatility of faith had certainly been 
 great, he must remind me (as Mr. Newman had said) 
 that he had seen both sides ; that persons like myself, 
 for example, have had but one experience ; whereas he 
 has had twoP 
 
 " If he were to urge me with such an argument," re- 
 plied Harrington, " I should say we are even then. 
 But I think even you could reply : ' You certainly do 
 yourself injustice, Mr. Fellow^es, in saying you have 
 had two experiences. You have had two dozen at 
 least ; but whether that can qualify you for speaking 
 with any authority on these subjects I much doubt; to 
 give any weight to the opinions of any man some sta- 
 bility at least is necessary.' " 
 
 This I could not gainsay. Slow revolutions on mo- 
 mentous subjects, when there has been much sobriety as 
 well as diligence of investigation, are, perhaps, not to be 
 despised as authority. Some superior weight may even 
 be attached to the later and maturer views. But if a 
 man changes them every other day ; if they rise and fall 
 with the barometer ; if his whole life has been one rapid 
 pirouette^ it is impossible with gravity to discuss the 
 question, whether at some point he may not have been 
 right. "Whoever be in the right, he cannot well be who 
 rhas never long been any thing; and to take such a man 
 ,for a guide would be almost as absurd as to mistake a 
 ^weathercock for a signpost. 
 
 " In seeking religious counsel of George Fellowes," 
 
PURITAN INFIDELITY. flftf 
 
 said Harrington, " I should feel much as Jeannie Deans, 
 when she went to the * Interpreter's House,' as Madge 
 Wildfire calls it, in company with that fantastical per- 
 sonage. But he is a kind-hearted, amiable fellow, and, 
 in short, I cannot help liking him." 
 
 July 2. Mr. Fellowes arrived this day about noon. 
 He is about a year younger than Harrington. The 
 afternoon was spent very pleasantly in general conver- 
 sation. In the evening, after tea, we went into the 
 Library. I told the two friends that, as they had doubt- 
 less much to talk of, and as I had plenty of occupation 
 for my pen, I would sit down at an adjoining table 
 with my desk, and they might go on with their chat. 
 They did so, and for some time talked of old college 
 days and on indifferent subjects ; but my attention was 
 Boon irresistibly attracted by finding them getting into 
 conversation in which, on^ Harrington's account, I felt 
 a deeper interest. I found my employment impossible, 
 and yet, desiring to hear them discuss their theological dif- 
 ferences without constraint, I did not venture to interrupt 
 tha^. At last the distraction became intolerable ; and, 
 looking up, I said, " Gentlemen, I believe you might 
 talk on the most private matters without my attending 
 to one syllable you said; but if you get upon these 
 theological subjects, such is my present interest in 
 them," glancing at Harrington, " that I shall be perpetu- 
 ally making blunders in my manuscript. Let me beg 
 of you to avoid them when I am with you, or let me 
 go into another room." Harrington would not hear of 
 the last ; and as to the first he said, and said truly, that 
 it would impede the free current of conversation, 
 " which," said he, " to be pleasurable at all, must wind 
 hither and thither as the fit takes us. It is like a raany- 
 
 4 
 
*.fl8 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 stringed Ijrre, and to break any one of the chords is tc 
 mar the music. And so, my good uncle, if you find us 
 getting upon these topics, join us ; we shall seldom be 
 long at a time upon them, I will answer for it ; or if 
 you will not do that, and yet, though disturbed by our 
 chatter, are too polite to show it, why, amuse your- 
 >j self (I know your old tachy graphic skill, which used so 
 to move my wonder in childhood), I say, amuse your- 
 self, or rather avenge yourself, by jotting down some 
 fragments of our absurdities, and afterwards showing us 
 what a couple of fools we have been." I was secretly 
 delighted with the suggestion ; and, when the subjects 
 of dispute were very interesting, threw aside my work, 
 whatever it was, and reported them pretty copiously. 
 Hence the completeness and accuracy of this admirable 
 journal. I cannot of course always, or even often, 
 vouch for the ipsissima verba ; and some few explana- 
 tory sentences I have been obliged to add. But the 
 substance of the dialogues is faithfully given. I need 
 not say, that they refer only to subjects of a theological 
 and polemical nature. 
 
 I hardly know how the conversation took the turn it 
 did on the present occasion ; but I think it was from 
 Mr. Fellowes's noticing Harrington's pale looks, and 
 conjecturing all sorts of reasons for his occasional lapses 
 into melancholy. 
 
 His friend hoped this and hoped that, as usual. 
 
 Harrington at last, seeing his curiosity awakened, and 
 that he would go on conjecturing all sorts of things, 
 said, " To terminate your suspense, be it known to you 
 that I am a bankrupt ! " 
 
 " A bankrupt ! " said the other, with evident alarm ; 
 " you surely have not been so unwise as to risk your 
 recently acquired property, or to speculate in " 
 
 " You have hit it," said Harrington ; " I have specu- 
 lated far more deeply than you suppose." 
 
PURITAN INFIDELITY. 39 
 
 The countenance of his friend lengthened visibly. 
 
 " Be not alarmed," resumed Harrington, with a smile ; 
 " I mean that I have speculated a good deal in — philos- 
 ophy, and when I said I was a bankrupt, I meant only 
 that I was a bankrupt — in faith; having become in 
 fact, since I saw you last, thoroughly sceptical." 
 
 The countenance of Fellowes contracted to its proper 
 dimensions. He looked even cheerful to find that his 
 friend had merely lost his faith, and not his fortune. 
 
 " Is that all ? " said he, " I am heartily glad to hear 
 it. Sceptic ! No, no ; you must not be a sceptic either, 
 except for a time," continued he, musing very sagely. 
 " It is no bad thing for a while : for it at least leaves 
 the house * empty, swept and garnished.' " 
 
 " Rather an unhappy application of your remnant of 
 Biblical knowledge," said Harrington ; " I hope you do 
 not intend to go on with the text." 
 
 " No, no, my dear friend; I warrant you we shall find 
 you worthier guests than any such fragments of supposed 
 revelation. If you are in * search of a religion,' how 
 happy should I be to aid you I " 
 
 " I shall be infinitely obliged to you," said Harring- 
 ton, gravely ; " for at present I do not know that I pos- 
 sess a farthing's worth of solid gold in the world. Ah ! 
 that it were but in your power to lend me some ; but I 
 fear " (he added half sarcastically) " that you have not 
 got more than enough for yourself. I assure you that 
 I am far from happy." ' 
 
 He spoke with so much gravity, that I hardly knew 
 whether to attribute it to some intention of dissembling 
 a little with his friend, or to an involuntary expression 
 of the experience of a mind that felt the sorrows of a 
 genuine scepticism. It might be both. 
 
 However, it brought things to a crisis at once. His 
 college friend looked equally surprised and pleased at 
 his appeal. 
 
40 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 . " I trust," said he, with becoming solemnity, " that 
 \all this is merely a temporary reaction from having 
 [believed too much; the languor and dejection which 
 attend the morrow after a night's debauch. I assure 
 you that I rejoice rather than grieve to hear that you 
 have curtailed your orthodoxy. It has been just my 
 own case, as you know ; only I flatter myself, that, per- 
 haps having less subtilty than you, I have not passed 
 the ^ golden mean' between superstition and scepticism, 
 — between believing too much and believing too little." 
 
 I looked up for a moment. I saw a laugh in Har- 
 rington's eyes, but not a feature moved. It passed 
 away immediately. 
 
 " I tell you," said he, " that I believe absolutely no 
 s^ one religious dogma whatever ; while yet I would give 
 worlds, if I had theni, to set my foot upon a rock. I 
 should even be grateful to any one, who, if he did not 
 give me truth, gave me a phantom of it, which I could 
 mistake for reality." He again spoke with an earnest- 
 ness of tone and manner, which convinced me that, if 
 there were any dissimulation, it cost him little trouble. 
 
 " If you merely meant," said Fellowes, " that you do 
 I not retain any vestige of your early * historical ' and 
 j* dogmatical ' Christianity, why, /retain just as little of 
 it. Indeed, I doubt," he continued, with perhaps su- 
 perfluous candor, "whether I ever was a Christian"; 
 and he seemed rather anxious to show that his creed 
 had been nominal. 
 
 " If it will save you the trouble of proving it," said 
 Harrington, " I will liberally grant you both your prem- 
 ises and your conclusion, without asking you to state 
 the one or prove the other." 
 
 " Well, then. Christian or no Christian, there was a 
 time, at all events, when I was orthodox^ you will grant 
 that; when I should have been willing to sign the 
 
PURITAN INFIDELITY. 41 
 
 Thirty-nine Articles ; or three hundred and thirty-nine ; 
 or the Confession of Faith ; or any other compilation, or 
 all others ; though perhaps, if strictly examined, I might 
 have been found in the condition of the infidel Scotch 
 Professor, who, being asked on his appointment to his / 
 Chair, whether the * Confession of Faith ' contained all x 
 that he believed, replied, * Yes, Gentlemen, and a great_ 
 deal more.' I have rejected all ' creeds * ; and I havet ) 
 now found what the Scripture calls that * peace which \ 
 passeth all understanding.' " (^^ 
 
 " I am sure it passes mine," said Harrington, " if you 
 really have found it, and I should be much obliged to 
 you if you would let me participate in the discov- 
 ery." 
 
 " Yes," said Fellowes, " I have been delivered from 
 the intolerable burden of all discussions as to dogma, , 
 and all examinations of evidence. I have escaped from \ 
 the * bondage of the letter,' and have been introduced 
 into the * liberty of the spirit.' " 
 
 " Your language, at all events, is richly Scriptural," 
 said Harrington ; " it is as though you were determined 
 not to leave the * letter ' of the Scripture, even if you 
 renounce the ^ spirit ' of it." 
 
 " Renounce the spirit of it! say rather, that in fact 
 I have only now discovered it. Though no Christian 
 in the ordinary sense, I am, I hope, something better ; 
 and a truer Christian in the spirit than thousands of 
 those in the letter." 
 
 " Letter and spirit ! my friend," said Harrington, 
 " you puzzle me exceedingly ; you tell me one moment 
 that you do not believe in historical Christianity at all, 
 either its miracles or dogmas, — these are fables ; but 
 in the next, why, no old Puritan could garnish such 
 discourse with a more edifying use of the language of 
 Scripture. I suppose you will next tell me that you 
 
42 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 understand the * spirit ' of Christianity better even than 
 Paul." 
 
 " So I do," said our visitor complacently, " ' Paulo 
 majora canamus ' ; for after all he was but half delivered 
 from his Jewish prejudices; and when he quitted the 
 nonsense of the Old Testament, — though in fact he 
 never did thoroughly, — he evidently believed the fables 
 of the New just as much as the pure truths which lie 
 at the basis of ' spiritual ' Christianity. We separate 
 the dross of Christianity from its fine gold. * The letter 
 Jidlleth, but the spirit giveth life,' — 'the fruit of the 
 
 i /spirit is joy, peace,' not " 
 
 " Upon my word," said Harrington, laughing, " I 
 shall begin to fancy presently that Douce Davie Deans 
 has turned infidel, and shall expect to hear of ' right- 
 hand fallings off and left-hand defections.' But tell me, 
 if you would have me think you rational, is not your 
 j meaning this : — that the New Testament contains, 
 I amidst an infinity of rubbish, the statement of certain 
 * spiritual ' truths which, and which alone, you recog- 
 
 « Certainly." 
 
 " But you do not acknowledge that these are derived 
 from the New Testament." 
 
 ;~^ " Heaven forbid ; they are indigenous to the heart 
 jof man, and are anterior to all Testaments, old or 
 new*" 
 
 " Very well ; then speak of them as your heart dic- 
 tates, and do not, unless you would have the world 
 think you a hypocrite, willing to cajole it with the idea 
 that you are a believer in the New Testament, while 
 you in fact reject it, or one of the most barren and 
 uninventive of all human beings, or fanatically fond 
 of mystical language, — do not, I say, affect this very 
 unctuous way of talking. And, for another reason, do 
 
PURITAN INFIDELITY. 43 
 
 not, I beseech you, adopt the phraseology of men who, 
 according to your view, must surely have been either 
 the most miserable fanatics or the most abominable 
 impostors ; for if they believed all that system of miracle 
 and doctrine they professed, and this were not true, 
 they were certainly the first ; and if they did not believe 
 it, they were as certainly the second." 
 
 " Pardon me ; I believe them to have been eminently 
 holy men, — full of spiritual wisdom and of a truly sub- 
 lime faith, though conjoined with much ignorance and 
 credulity, which it is unworthy of us to tolerate." 
 
 " Whether it could be ignorance and credulity on 
 your theory," retorted Harrington, " is to my mind very 
 doubtful. Whether any men can untruly affirm that 
 they saw and did the things the Apostles say they saw 
 and did, and yet be sincere fanatics, I know not ; but 
 even were it so, since it shows (as do also the mystical 
 doctrines you reject as false) that they could be little 
 less than out of their senses ; and as you further say 
 that the spiritual sentiments you retain in common with 
 them were no gift of theirs, but are yours and all man- 
 kind's, by original inheritance, uttered by the oracle of 
 the human heart before any Testaments were written, 
 — why, speak your thoughts in your own language." 
 
 " Ay, but how do we know that these original Chris- 
 tians said that they had seen and done the things you 
 refer to ? which of course they never did see and do, 
 because they were miraculous. How do we know what 
 additions and corruptions as to fact, and what disguises 
 of mystical doctrine, *the idealizing biographers and 
 historians ' (as Strauss truly calls them) may have ac- 
 cumulated upon their simple utterances ? " 
 
 " And how do you know, then, whether they ever 
 uttered these simple * utterances ' ? or whether they are 
 not part of the corruptions ? or how can you separate 
 
b 
 
 44 , THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 the one from the other ? or how can you ascertain that 
 these men meant what you mean, when you thus ser- 
 vilely copy their language ? " 
 
 Because I know these truths independently of the 
 Bible, to be sure." 
 
 " Then speak of them independently of the Bible. If 
 you profess to have broken the stereotype-plates of the 
 * old revelation ' and delivered mankind from their bond- 
 age, do not proceed to express yourself only in fragments 
 from them ; if you profess freedom of soul, and the 
 possession of the pure truth, do not appear to be so 
 poverty-stricken as to array your thoughts in the tatters 
 of the cast-off Bible." 
 
 " Ay, but the ' saints ' of the Bible," replied Fellowes, 
 " are, even by Mr. Frank Newman's own confession, 
 those who have entered, after all, most profoundly into 
 the truths of spiritual religion, and stand almost alone 
 in the history of the world in that respect." 
 
 " If it be so, it is certainly very odd, considering the 
 mountain-loads of folly, error, fable, fiction, from which 
 their spiritual religion did not in your esteem defend 
 them, and which you say you are obliged to reject. It 
 is a phenomenon of which, I think, you are bound to 
 give some account." 
 
 " But what is there so wonderful in supposing them 
 in possession of superior * spiritual ' advantages, with 
 mistaken history and fallacious logic, and so forth ? " 
 
 " Why,-" answered Harrington, " one wonder is, that 
 they alone, and amidst such gross errors, should possess 
 these spiritual advantages. But it also appears to me 
 that your notions of the ' spiritual ' are not the same as 
 theirs, for you reject the New Testament dogmas as 
 well as its history ; if so, it is another reason for not 
 misleading us by using language in deceptive senses. 
 But, at all events, I cannot help pitying your poverty of 
 
PURITAN INFIDELITY. 45 
 
 thought, or poverty of expression, — one or both ; and I 
 beg you, for my sake, if not for your own, to express 
 your thoughts as much as possible in your own terms, 
 and avail yourself less liberally of those of David and 
 Paul, whose language ordinary Christians will always 
 associate with another meaning, and can never believe 
 you sincere in supposing that it rightfully expresses the 
 doctrines of your most ' spiritual ' infidelity. They will 
 certainly hear your Scriptural and devout language with 
 the same feehngs with which they would nauseate that 
 most oppressive of all odors, — the faint scent of laven- 
 der in the chamber of death. My good uncle here, who 
 cannot be prevailed upon to reject the Bible, will not, I 
 am sure, hear you, without supposing that you resemble 
 those Rationalists of whom Menzel says, « These gen- 
 tlemen smilingly taught their theological pupils that 
 unbelief was the true apostolic, primitive Christian be- 
 lief ; they put all their insipidities into Christ's mouth, 
 and made him, by means of their exegetical jugglery, 
 sometimes a Kantian, sometimes a Hegelian, sometimes 
 one ian and sometimes another, 'wie es dem Herrn 
 Professor beliebt' : neither will he be able to imagine 
 that you are not resorting to this artifice for the same 
 purpose. ' The Bible,' says Menzel, ' and their Reason 
 being incompatible, why do they not let them remain 
 separate ? Why insist on harmonizing things which do 
 not, and never can harmonize ? It is because they are 
 aware that the Bible has authority with the people ; 
 otherwise they would never trouble themselves about so 
 troublesome a book.' I cannot suspect you of such 
 hypocrisy ; but I must confess I regard your language 
 as cant. As I listen to you I seem to see a hybrid be- 
 tween Prynne and Voltaire. So far from its being true 
 that you have renounced the * letter ' of the Bible and 
 retained its spirit,' I think it would be much more cor 
 
/ 
 
 46 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 rect to say, comparing your Infidel hypothesis with your 
 most spiritual dialect, that you have renounced the 
 * spirit ' of the Bible and retained its ' letter.' " 
 
 " But are you in a condition to give an opinion ? " 
 said Fellowes, with a serious air. " Mr. Newman says 
 in a like case, * The natural man discerneth not the 
 things of the spirit of God, because they are foolishness 
 unto him ' ; it is the * spiritual man only who searcheth 
 the deep things of God.' At the same time I freely 
 acknowledge that I never could see my way clear to 
 employ an argument which looks so arrogant ; and the 
 less, as I believe, with Mr. Parker, that the only true 
 revelation is in all men alike. Yet, on the other hand, 
 I cannot doubt my own consciousness^ 
 
 " Why, no man doubts his own consciousness^^ said 
 Harrington, laughing. " The question is. What is its 
 value ? What is the criterion of universal ' spiritual 
 truth,' if there be any ? Those words in Paul's mouth 
 were well, and had a meaning. In yours, I suspect, 
 they would have none, or a very different one. He 
 dreamt that he was giving to mankind (vainly, as it 
 seems) a system of doctrines and truths which were, 
 many of them, transcendental to the human intellect 
 and conscience, and which when revealed were very 
 distasteful (and not least to you) ; but the assertion 
 of a spiritual monopoly would assuredly sound rather 
 odd in one who professes, if I understand you, that God 
 has given to man (for it is no discovery of any indi- 
 vidual) an internal and universal revelation! But of 
 your possible lirnitations of your universal spiritual rev- 
 elation, — which all men * naturally ' possess, but which 
 the 'natural man' receiveth not, — we will talk here- 
 after. Sceptic as I am, I am not a sceptic who is rec- 
 onciled to scepticism. Meantime, you reject the Bible 
 in tola, as an external rcTclation of God, if I understand 
 you." 
 
PURITAN INFIDELITY. 47 
 
 " Jw toto; and I believe that it has received in this s^ 
 age its death-blow." / 
 
 " Ay, that is what the infidel has been always ] 
 promising us ; meantime, they somehow perish, and it ^C^ 
 laughs at them. You remember, perhaps, the words of 
 old Woolston, so many fragments of whose criticism, 
 as those of many others, have been incorporated by 
 Strauss. He had, as he elegantly expresses it, * cut out 
 such a piece of work for the Boylean lectures as should 
 hold them tug as long as the ministry of the letter 
 should last ' ; for he too, you see, masked his infidelity 
 by a distinction between the ' letter ' and the ' spirit,' 
 though he applied the convenient terms in a totally 
 different sense. Poor soul ! The fundamental princi- 
 ples of his infidelity are surrendered by Strauss him- \ 
 self Similarly, a score of assailants of the Bible have -^ ' 
 appeared and vanished since his day ; each proclaim- ) 
 ing, just as he himself went to the bottom, that he had \ 
 given the Bible its death-blow ! Somehow, however, " 
 that singular book continues to flourish, to propagate 
 itself, to speak all languages, to intermingle more and 
 more with the literature of all civilized nations ; while 
 mankind will not accept, slaves as they are, the intel- 
 lectual freedom you offer them. It is really very pro- 
 voking ; of what use is it to destroy the Bible so often, 
 when it lives the next minute? I have little doubt 
 your new attempts will end just like the labors of the 
 Rationalists of the Paulus school, so graphically de- 
 scribed by the German writer whom I have already 
 referred to. ^ It is sad, no doubt,' says he, or something ^ 
 to the same effect, ^ that, after fifty years' exegetical f 
 grubbing, weeding, and pruning at the mighty primi- / 
 tive forest of the Bible, the next generation should 7^ 
 persist in saying that the "Nationalist had destroyed the y 
 forest only in his own addled imagination, and that it ? 
 is just as it was.' " ^j--^_ 
 
48 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 " Yes ; but the new weapons will not be so easily 
 evaded as those of a past age." 
 
 " Will they not ? We shall see. You must not 
 prophesy ; in that, you know, you do not believe." 
 
 " No ; but nevertheless we shall see so-called sacred 
 dogma and history exploded, for Mr. Newman " 
 
 " Thinks so, of course ; and he must be right, because 
 he has never been known to be wrong in any of his 
 judgments, or even to vary in them. But we have had 
 enough, I think, of these subjects this evening, and it ifc 
 wOo bad to give you only a controversial welcome. I 
 want to have some conversation with you about very 
 different things, and more pleasant just now. We shall 
 have plenty of opportunity to discuss theological points.'- 
 
 To this Fellowes assented : they resumed generai 
 conversation, and I finished my letters. 
 
 July 3. We were ail sitting, as on the previous day, 
 in the library. 
 
 " Book-faith ! " I heard Harrington say, laughing ; 
 " why, as to that I must needs acknowledge that the 
 whole school of Deism, * rational ' or * spiritual,' have the 
 least reason in the world to indulge in sneers at book- 
 faith ; for, upon my word, their faith has consisted in 
 little else. Their systems are parchment religions, my 
 friend, all of them ; — books, books, for ever, from Lord 
 Herbert's time downwards, are all they have yet given 
 to the world. They have ever been boastful and loud- 
 tongued, but have done nothing; there are no great 
 social efforts, no organizations, no practical projects, 
 whether successful or futile, to which they can point, 
 ^he old < book-faiths ' which you venture to ridicule 
 ^have been something at all events ; and, in truth, I can 
 ' find no other ' faith ' than what is somehow or other 
 
LORD HERBERT AND MODERN DEISM. 49 
 
 attached to a 'book,' which has been any thing influ- 
 ential. The Vedas, the Koran, the Old Testament 
 Scriptures, — those of the New, — over how many 
 millions have these all reigned ! Whether their suprem- 
 acy be right or wrong, their doctrine true or false, is 
 another question ; but your faith, which has been book- 
 faith and lip-service par excellence^ has done nothing 
 that I can discover. One after another of your infidel 
 Reformers passes away, and leaves no trace behind, 
 except a quantity of crumbling ' book-faith.' You have 
 always been just on the eve of extinguishing super- "s 
 natural fables, dogmas, and superstitions, — and then \ 
 regenerating the world! Alas! the meanest supersti- ) 
 tion that crawls laughs at you ; and, false as it may be, 
 is still stronger than you." 
 
 " And your sect," retorted Fellowes, rather warmly, 
 "if you come to that, is it not the smallest of all? Is 
 that likely to find favor in the eyes of mankind ? " 
 
 " Why, no," said Harrington, with provoking cool- 
 ness ; " but then it makes no pretensions to any thing of 
 the kind. It were strange if it did ; for as the sceptic 
 doubts if any truth can be certainly attained by man on j 
 those subjects on which the 'rational' or the ' spiritual' ; 
 deist dogmatizes, it of course professes to be incapable 
 of constructing any thing." 
 
 " And does construct nothing," retorted Fellowes. 
 
 " Very true," said Harrington, " and therein keeps its 
 word ; which is more, I fear, than can be said with your 
 more ambitious spiritualists, who profess to construct, 
 and do not." 
 
 " But you must give the school of spiritualism time : 
 
 it is only just born. You seem to me to be confound- 
 
 'ng the school of the old, dry, logical deism with the 
 
 young, fresh, vigorous, earnest school' which appegds 
 
 o ' insight ' and ' intuition.' " 
 
50 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 " No " said Harrington, " I think I do not confound 
 The first and the best of our English deists derived his 
 system as immediately from intuitions as Mr. Parker or 
 you. You know how it sped — or, if you do not, you 
 may easily discover — with his successors : they con- 
 tinually disputed about it, curtailed it, added to it, 
 altered it, agreed in nothing but the author's rejection 
 of Christianity, and forgot more and more the decency 
 of his style. So will it be with your Mr. Newman and 
 his successors. They will acquiesce in his rejection of 
 Christianity; depend upon it, in nothing more. He 
 may get his admirers to abandon the Bible, but they 
 will have naught to do with the * loves, and joys, and 
 sorrows, and raptures, which he describes in the ' Soul' j 
 they would just as soon read the * Canticles.' " 
 
 " I really cannot admit," said Fellowes, " that we 
 modern spiritualists are to be confounded with Lord 
 Herbert." 
 
 " Not confounded with him, certainly," replied Har- 
 rington, " but identified with him you may be ; except, 
 to be sure, that he was convinced of the immortality of 
 man as one of the few articles of all religion ; while 
 many of you deny, or doubt it. The doctrines " 
 
 " Call them sentiments, rather ; I like that term 
 better." 
 
 " O, certainly, if you prefer it ; only be pleased to 
 observe that a sentiment felt is a fact, and el fact is a 
 truth, and a truth may surely be expressed in a propo- 
 sition. That is all I am anxious about at present. If 
 so far, at least, we may not patch up the divorce which 
 Mr. Newman has pronounced between the * intellect' 
 and the ' soul,' it is of no use for us to talk about the 
 matter. I say that Lord Herbert's articles " 
 
 " There again, < articles,' " said Fellowes; " I hate the 
 word ; I could almost imagine that you were going to 
 recite the formidable Thirty-nine." 
 
LORD HERBERT AND MODERN DEISM. 51 
 
 " Rather, from your outcry, one would suppose I was 
 about to inflict the forty save one; but do not be 
 alarmed. The articles neither of Lord Herbert's creed 
 nor of your own, I suspect, are thirty-nine, or any thing 
 like it. The catalogue will be soon exhausted." 
 
 " Here again, ' creed ' : I detest the word. We have 
 no creed. Your very language chills me. It reminds 
 me of the dry orthodoxy of the * letter,' * logical pro- 
 cesses,' ' intellectual propositions,' and so forth. Speak 
 of ' spiritual truths ' and ' sentiments,' which are the 
 product of immediate ' insight,' of * an insight into 
 God,' a 'spontaneous impression on the gazing soul,' 
 to adopt Mr. Newman's beautiful expressions, and I 
 shall understand you." 
 
 " I am afraid I shall hardly understand myself then," 
 cried Harrington. " But let us not be scared by mere 
 words, nor go into hysterics at the sound of * logic' and 
 * creed,' lest 'sentimental spirituality' be found, like 
 some other 'sentimental' things, a bundle of senseless 
 affectations." 
 
 "But you forget that there is all the diflerence in 
 the world between Herbert and his deistical successors., 
 They connected religion with the ' intellectual and sen- \ 
 sational,' and we with the ' instinctive and emotional ' 
 sides of human nature." 
 
 " If you think," said the other, " (the substance of 
 your religious system being, as I believe, precisely the 
 same as that of Lord Herbert and the better deists,) that 
 you can make it more effective than it has been in the 
 past, by conjuring with the words ' sensational and in 
 teUectual,' 'instinctive and emotional,' or that the mix 
 ture of chalk and water will be more potent with one 
 label than with the other, I fancy you will find yourself 
 deceived. The distinctions you refer to have to do with 
 the theory of the subject, and will make din enough, no 
 
52 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 doubt, among such as Mr. Newman and yourself; but 
 mankind at large will be unable even to enter into the 
 meaning' of your refinements. They will say briefly and 
 bluntly, * What are the truths, whether, as Lord Her- 
 bert says, they are " innate/' or^^ as ^ow say, " spiritual in- 
 tuitions," (we care nothing for the phraseology of either 
 or both of you,) which are to be admitted by universal 
 humanity, and to be influential over the heart and con- 
 science?' Now, I suspect that, when you come to the 
 enumeration of these truths, your system and that of 
 Lord Herbert will be found the same ; only as regards 
 the immortality of the soul his tone is firmer than per- 
 haps I shall find yours. But I admit the policy of a 
 change of name : ' Rationalist ' and * Deist ' have a bad 
 sound ; ' Spiritualist ' is a better nom de guerre for the 
 present." 
 
 " We shall never understand one another," said Fel- 
 lowes : " the spiritual man " 
 
 " Pshaw ! " said Harrington ; " you can immediately 
 bring the matter to the test by telling me what you 
 maintain, and then I shall know whether your system 
 is or is not identical with Lord Herbert's ; or rather tell 
 me what you do not believe, and let us come to it that 
 ^ay. Do you believe a single shred of any of the su- 
 pernatural narratives of the Old and New Testament ? " 
 
 " No," said Fellowes ; " a thousand times no." 
 
 " Very well, that gets rid of at least four sevenths of 
 1 the Bible. Do you believe in the Trinity, the Atone- 
 ment, the Resurrection of Christ, in a general Resurrec- 
 tion, in the Day of Judgment ? " 
 
 " No, not in one of them," said Fellowes ; " not in a 
 particle of one of them." 
 r^ " Pretty well again. You reject, then, the character- 
 I istic doctrines of Christianity ? " 
 V " Not one of them," Was the answer. 
 
LORD HERBERT AND MODERN DEISM. 53 
 
 " We are indeed in danger of misunderstanding one 
 another," said Harrington. "But tell me, is it noT^ 
 your boast, as of Mr. Parker, that the truths which are 
 essential to religion are not peculiar to Christianity/) but 
 are involved in all religions ? " 
 
 " Assuredly." 
 
 " If I were to ask you what were the essential attri- 
 butes of a man, would you assign those which he hat. 
 in common with a pig- ? " 
 
 " Certainly not." 
 
 " But if I asked you what were those of an animal^ 
 I presume you would give those which both species 
 possessed, and none that either possessed exclusively." 
 
 " I should." 
 
 " Need I add, then, that you are deceiving yourself 
 when you say that you believe all the characteristic 
 doctrines of Christianity, since you say that you believe 
 only those which it has in common with ever^/ religion ? 
 If I were to ask you what doctrines are essential to 
 constitute any religion, then you would do well to enu- 
 merate those which belong to Christianity and every 
 other. But when w^e talk of the doctrines peculiar to 
 Christianity, we mean those which discriminate it from 
 every other, and not those which are common to it with 
 them." 
 
 "But however," said Fellowes, "none of the doc- 
 trines you have enumerated are a part of Christianity, 
 but are mere additions of imposture or fanaticism." 
 
 " Then what are the doctrines which, though com- 
 mon to every other religion, are characteristic of it? 
 What is left that is essential or peculiar to Christiani- 
 ty, when you have denuded it of all that you reject? 
 Is it not then assimilated, by your own confession, to^^ 
 every other religion? How shall we discriminate ' 
 them?" 
 
54 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 " B/ this, perhaps," said Fellowes, " (for I acknowl- 
 edge some difficulty here,) that Christianity contains 
 these truths of absolute religion alone and pure. As 
 Mr. Parker says, This is the glory of genuine Chris- 
 tianity." 
 
 "Do you not see that this is the very question, — 
 you yourself being obliged to reject nine tenths of the 
 statements in the only records in which we know any 
 thing about it ? Might not an ancient priest of Jupiter 
 say the same of Ids religion, by first divesting it of all 
 but that which you say it had in common with every 
 other ? However, let us now look at the positive side. 
 What is the residuum which you condescend to leave 
 to your genuine Christianity? " 
 Y~^ " Christianity," said Fellowes, rather pompously, " is 
 not so much a system as a discipline, — not a creed, but 
 a life : in short, a divine philosophy." 
 
 " All which I have heard from all sorts of Christians 
 a thousand times," cried Harrington ; " and it is delight- 
 fully vague; it may mean any thing or nothing. But 
 the truths^ the truths, what are they, my friend ? I see 
 I must get them from you by fragments. Your faith 
 includes, I presume, a belief in one Supreme God, who 
 is a Divine Personality ; in the duty of reverencing, lov- 
 ing, and obeying him, — whether you know how that 
 is to be done or not; that we must repent of our sins, 
 — if indeed we duly know what things are sins in his 
 sight; that he will certainly forgive to any extent on 
 such repentance, without any mediation ; that perhaps 
 there is a heaven hereafter ; but that it is very doubful 
 if there are any punishments." 
 
 " I do believe," said Fellowes, " these are the cardi- 
 nal doctrines of the ' Absolute Religion,' as Mr. Parker 
 calls it. Nor can I conceive that any others are ne- 
 ressary." 
 
LORD HfellBEfet AND MODERM DEISM. 55 
 
 " Well," said Harrington, " with the exception of the 
 immortality of the soul, on which Lord Herbert has the 
 advantage of speaking a little more firmly, the Deists and 
 such * spiritualists ' as you are assuredly identical. I 
 have simply abridged his articles. The same project as 
 your ' spiritualism ' or ' naturalism,' in all its essential 
 features, has been often tried before, and found wanting ; 
 that is, of guaranteeing to man a sufficient and infal- 
 lible internal oracle, independent of all aid from external 
 revelation, and of proving that he has, in effect, possessed 
 and enjoyed it always ; only that, by a slight inadver- 
 tence (I suppose), he did not know it. The theory, 
 indeed, is rather suspiciously confined to those who 
 have previously had the Bible. No such plenary con- 
 fidence is found in the ancient heathen philosophers, 
 who, in many not obscure places, acknowledge that the 
 path of mortal man, by his internal light, is a little dim. 
 Many, therefore, say, that the ' Naturalists ' and * Spir- 
 itualists ' are but plagiarists from the Bible, and of 
 course, like other plagiarists, depreciate the sources from 
 which they have stolen their treasures. I think unjustly ; 
 for, whatever their obligations to that mutilated volume, 
 I acknowledge they have transformed Christianity quite 
 sufficiently to entitle themselves to the praise of origi- 
 nality ; and if the Battle of the Books were to be fought 
 over again, I doubt whether Moses or Paul would think 
 it worth while to make any other answer than that of 
 Plato in that witty piece, to the Grub Street author, 
 who boasted that he had not been in the sfighest degree 
 indebted to the classics : Plato declared that, upon his 
 honor, he believed him ! Whether the successors of 
 the Herberts and Tindals of a former day are not 
 plagiarists from them^ is another question, and depends 
 entirely upon whether the wtitings of their predecessors 
 are sufficiently known to them. Probably, the hopeless 
 
56 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 oblivion which, for the most part, covers them (for the 
 perverse world has been again and again assured of its 
 infallible internal light, and has persisted in denying 
 that it has it) will protect our modern authors from the 
 imputation of plagiarism ; but that the systems in ques- 
 tion are essentially identical can hardly admit of doubt. 
 The principal difference is as to the organon by which 
 the revelation affirmed to be internal and universal is 
 apprehended ; it affects the metaphysics of the question, 
 and, like all metaphysics, is characteristically dark. But 
 about this you will not get the mass of mankind to care 
 any more than you can get yourselves to agree ; no, nor 
 will you agree even about the system itself. Nay, you 
 modern spiritualists, just as the elder deists, are already 
 quarrelling about it. In short, the universal light in 
 man's soul flickers and. wavers most abominably." 
 
 " I see," said Fell owes, " you are profoundly preju- 
 diced against the spiritualists." 
 
 " I believe not," said Harrington ; " the worst I wish 
 them is that they may be honest men, and appear what 
 they really are." 
 
 " I suppose next," exclaimed the other, " you will 
 attribute to the modern spiritualists the scurrility of 
 the elder deists, — of Woolston, Tindal, and Collins ? " 
 
 " No," said Harrington, " I answer no ; nor do I 
 (remember) compare Lord Herbert in these respects 
 with his successors. He was an amiable enthusiast ; in 
 many respects resembling Mr. Newman himself. Do 
 you remember, by the way, how that most reasonable 
 rejecter of all * external ' revelation prayed that he 
 might be directed by Heaven whether he should publish 
 or not publish his * book ' ? about which, if Heaven was 
 very solicitous, this world has since been very indif- 
 ferent. Having distinctly heard * a sound as of thun- 
 der,' on a very * calm and serene day,' he immediately 
 
SOIME CURIOUS PARADOXES. 57 
 
 received it as a preternatural answer to prayer, and an 
 indubitable sign of Heaven's concurrence ! " 
 
 " No such taint of superstition, however, will be found 
 clinging to Mr. Newman. He has most thoroughly- 
 abjured all notion of an external revelation ; nay, he 
 denies the possibility of a < book-revelation of spiritual 
 and moral truth ' ; and I am confident that his dilemma 
 on that point is unassailable." 
 
 " Be it so," answered Harrington ; " you will readily 
 suppose I am not inclined to contest that point very 
 vigorously ; yet I confess that, as usual, my inveterate 
 scepticism leaves me in some doubts. Will you assist 
 me in resolving them ? — but not to-night ; let us have 
 a little more talk about old college days, — or what say 
 you to a game at chess ? " 
 
 July 4. I thought this day would have passed ofi 
 entirely without polemics ; but I was mistaken. In 
 the evening Harrington, after a very cheerful morning, 
 relapsed into one of his pensive moods. Conversation 
 flagged ; at last I heard Fellowes say, " I have this 
 advantage of you, my friend, that my sentiments have, 
 at all events, produced that peace of which you are in 
 quest, and which your countenance at times too plainly 
 declares you not to possess. If you had it, you would 
 not take so gloomy a view of things. Like hin 
 from whom I have derived some of my sentiments, 1 
 have found that they tend to make me a happier man. 
 The Christian, like yourself, looks upon every thing 
 with a jaundiced or distorted eye, and is apt to under- 
 rate the claims and pleasures of this present sccoe of 
 our existence. I can truly say that I now enter into 
 them much more keenly than I could when I was an 
 orthodox Christian. I can say with Mr. Newman, I 
 
58 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 now, with deliberate approval, * love the world and the 
 things of the world.' The New Testament, as Mr. 
 Newman says, bids us watch perpetually, not knowing 
 whether the Lord will return at cock-crowing or mid- 
 day ; ' that the only thing worth spending one's energies 
 on, is the forwarding of men's salvation.' Now I must 
 say with him, that, while I believed this, I acted an 
 eccentric and unprofitable part." 
 
 ^' Only then ? " said Harrington. " You were for- 
 tunate." 
 
 He says, that to teach the certain speedy destruc- 
 tion of earthly things, as the New Testament does, is to 
 cut the sinews of all earthly progress ; to declare war 
 against intellect and imagination, against industrial and 
 social advancement." 
 
 My gravity was hardly equal to the task of listening 
 to the first part of Mr. Fellowes's speech. To hear that 
 the common and just reproach against all mankind, but 
 especially against all Christians, of taking too keen an 
 interest in the present, was in a large measure at least 
 founded upon a mistake ; to find, in fact, that there was 
 some danger of an excessive exaggeration of the claims 
 of the future, which required a corrective ; that the 
 Christian world, owing to the above pernicious doctrine, 
 might possibly evince too faint a relish for the pleasures 
 or too diminished an estimate for the advantages of 
 the present life ; that, their " treasure being in heaven," 
 it was not impossible but " their heart " might be too 
 much there also, — there, perhaps, when it was impera- 
 tively demanded in the counting-house, on the hustings, 
 at the mart or the theatre ; all this, being, as I say, so 
 notoriously contrary to ordinary opinion and experience, 
 seemed to me so exquisitely ludicrous that I could 
 hardly help bursting into laughter, especially as I 
 imagined one of our nev%r " spiritual " doctors ascending 
 
SOME CURIOUS PARADOXES. 59 
 
 the pulpit under the new dispensation, to indulge in 
 exhortations to a keener chase of this world, and " the 
 things of this world." I found afterwards similar 
 thoughts were passing through Harrington^s mind, ren- 
 dered more whimsical by the recollection that, during 
 college life, his friend (though very far from vicious) 
 had certainly never seemed to take any deficient interest 
 in the affairs of this world, nor to exhibit any predilec- 
 tion for an ascetic life. Indeed, he acknowledged that, 
 after all, he could not sympathize with Mr. Newman's 
 extreme sensitiveness in relation to this matter.* 
 
 Harrington answered, with proper gravity, " I am 
 glad to find that any undue austerity of character — of 
 which, however, I assure you, upon my honor, I never 
 suspected you — has received so invaluable a corrective. 
 Still, it is obvious to remark, that, if the chief effect 
 of this new style of religion is to abate any excessive 
 antipathy which the New Testament has fostered, or 
 was likely to foster, to the attractions of this life, it has, 
 I conceive, an easy task. I never remarked in Chris- 
 tians any superfluous contempt of the present world or 
 its pleasures ; any indication of an extravagant admira- 
 tion of any sublimer objects of pursuit. In truth, the 
 tendencies of human nature, as it appears to me, are so 
 strong the other way, that the strongest language of a 
 hundred New Testaments would be little heeded. Your 
 corrective is something like that of a moralist who 
 should seriously prove that man was to take care that 
 his appetites and passions are duly indulged, of which 
 ethical writers have, alas ! condescended to say but little, 
 supposing that every body would feel that there was no 
 need of solemn counsels on such a subject. It reminds 
 one of the Christmas sermon mentioned in the * Sketch 
 
 * See Phases, p. 205. 
 
60 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 Book,' preached by the good little antiquarian parson 
 who elaborately proved, and pathetically enforced on his 
 reluctant auditors, the duty of a proper devotion to the 
 festivities of the season. However, every one must like 
 the complexion of your theology, though its counsels on 
 this subject do not seem to me of urgent necessity." 
 
 " Perhaps," said Fell owes, " I ought rather to have 
 said that Christians inculcate, theoretically^ a contempt 
 of the present life, while, practically^ they enter as 
 keenly into its pleasures as the * worldling,' " — uttering 
 the last word with an approach to a sneer. 
 
 " You may be sure," said Harrington, " / shall leave 
 the Christian to defend himself ; but if the case be as 
 yoti now represent it, your new religious system seems 
 to be superfluous as a corrective of any tendencies to 
 Christian asceticism, and can do nothing for us. It ap- 
 pears that your Reformation was begun and ended be- 
 fore your * spiritual ' Luthers appeared." 
 
 " Not so," said Fellowes, " for the eagerness wdth 
 which the Christian pursues the world, while he con- 
 demns it, is, as Mr. Greg has recently insisted, *a 
 gigantic hypocrisy ' : it is founded on a lie. They say 
 this world is not to be the great object for which we 
 are to live and in which we are to find our happiness ; 
 we say it is : they say it is not our < country ' or our 
 * home ' ; we say it is : they say that we are to live 
 supremely for the future, and in it ; we say, for and in 
 the present ; that if there be a future world (of which 
 many doubt, and I, for one, have not been able to 
 make up my mind), we are to hope to be happy there, 
 but that the main business is to secure our happiness 
 here, — to embellish, adorn, and enjoy this our only cer- 
 tain dwelling-place, — and, in fact, to live supremely for 
 the present. Such is the constitution of human nature." 
 
 " I shall not be at the trouble," replied Harrington, 
 
SOME CURIOUS PARADOXES. 61 
 
 "to defend the inconsistencies of the Christian; but 
 your system, I fear, is essentially a brutal theology, 
 and, I am certain, a false philosophy. All the analogies 
 of our nature cry out against it. Why, even with regard 
 to the 'present,^ as you call this life, man is perpetually 
 living/or and in the future. This 'present' (minute as 
 it is) is itself broken up into man?/ futures, and it is 
 these which man truly lives for, when he is not a beast ; 
 •ind not for the passing hour. It is not to-day, it is 
 always to-morrow, on which his eye is fixed ; and his 
 ever-repining nature perpetually confesses its impatient 
 want of something (it knows not what) to come. The 
 child lives for his youth, and the youth is discontented 
 till he is a man ; every attainment and every possession 
 palls as soon as it is reached, and we still sigh for some- 
 thing that we have not. It is simply in analogy with 
 all this that the Christian and every other religion says 
 (absurdly, if you will, but certainly with a deeper knowl- 
 edge of human nature than you), that, as every little 
 present has its little future for which we live, so the whole 
 present of this life has its great future, which must, all 
 the way through, be made the supreme object of fore- 
 thought and solicitude ; just as we should despise any 
 man who, for a moment's gratification to-day, perilled 
 the happiness of the whole of to-morrow. If Christians 
 are inconsistent in this respect, that is their affair ; but I 
 am sure their theory i^ more in accordance with the con- 
 stitution of human nature than yours." He might have 
 added, that there is nothing in the New Testament which 
 forbids to Christians any of the innocent pleasures of 
 this life : the Christian may lawfully appropriate them. 
 His system does not constrain him to hermit-like aus- 
 terity or Puritanic grimace. He may enjoy them, just 
 as a wise man, who will not sacrifice any of the interests 
 of next year for a transient gratification of the passing 
 
 6 
 
f 
 
 §2 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 hour, does not deny himself any legitimate pleasure 
 which is not inconsistent with the more momentous 
 interest. The pilgrim drinks and rests at the fountain, 
 though he does not dream of setting up his tent there. 
 
 " Nay," said Fellowes, " but think again of the * gigan- 
 tic lie ' of making the future world the supreme object, 
 and yet living wholly for this." 
 
 " If that be the case," said I, joining in their talk, 
 " there is no doubt a ' gigantic lie ' somewhere ; but the 
 question is. Who tells it? It does not follow that it is 
 Christianity. You may see every day men perilling, 
 nay, losing, some important advantages by loitering 
 away the very hour which is to secure them, — in read- 
 ing a novel, enjoying a social hour, lying in bed, and 
 what not. You do not conclude that the man's estimate 
 of the future — his philosophy of that — is any the more 
 questionable for this folly ? The ruthless future comes 
 and makes his heart ache ; and so may it be with Chris- 
 tianity for aught any such considerations imply. Your 
 argument only proves that, if Christianity be true, man 
 is an inconsistent fool ; and, in my judgment, that was 
 proved long before Christianity was born or thought of." 
 
 " Your theology," cried Harrington, " fairly carried 
 out, would lead most men to the * Epicurean sty,' which, 
 sceptic as I am, I loathe the thought of;~it almost 
 deserves the rebuke which Johnson gave the man who 
 pleaded for a ' natural and savage condition,' as he 
 called it. ' Sir,' said the Doctor, * it is a brutal doc- 
 trine ; a bull might as well say, I have this grass and 
 this cow, — and what can a creature want more ? ' No, 
 I am sure that the Christian or any other religionist — 
 inconsistent though he is — appeals in this point to 
 deeper analogies of our nature than you." 
 r' " But the fact is," said Fellowes, " that the Christian 
 depreciates the innocent pleasures of this life." 
 
SOME CURIOUS PARADOXES. 63 
 
 * And my uncle would say it is his own fault then." 
 
 " Nay, but hear me. I conceive that nothing could 
 be more natural, as several of our writers have re- 
 marked, than the injunctions of the Apostles to the 
 primitive Christians to despise the world, and so forth, 
 under the impression of that great mistake they had 
 fallen into, that the world was about to tuinble to 
 pieces, and " 
 
 " I am not sure," said Harrington, who seemed re- 
 solved to evince a scepticism provoking enough, * that 
 they did make the mistake, on your principles. For I 
 know not, nor you either, whether the expressions on 
 which you found the supposition be not amongst the 
 voluminous additions with which you are pleased to 
 suppose their simple and genuine ' utterances ' have been 
 corrupted. But, leaving you to discuss that point, if 
 you like, with my uncle here, I must deny that the 
 mistake^ supposing it one, makes any thing in relation 
 to our present discussion. You say that the Apostles 
 did ivell and naturally to inculcate a light grasp on the 
 world, on the supposition that it was about to pass 
 away ; and therefore, I suppose, you (under a similar 
 impression) would do the same ; if so, ought you not 
 still to do it ? for can it make any conceivable diiference 
 to the wisdom or the folly of such exhortations, whether 
 the world passes away from us, or we pass away from 
 the world ? — whether it * tumbles to pieces,' as you ex- 
 press it, or (which is too certain) we tumble to pieces ? 
 I think, therefore, your same comfortable theology can- 
 not be justified, if yon justify the conduct of the Apos- 
 tles under their impression, let it be ever so erroneous. 
 You ought to feel the same sentiments ; you being, to all 
 practical purposes, under a precisely similar impression." 
 
 Fellowes looked as if he were a little vexed at having 
 thus hypothetically justified the conduct of the Apostles. 
 
64 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 But he was not without his answer, adopted from- Mr. 
 Newman. " Yes," said he, " practically^ no doubt, death 
 is the end of the world to us ; but to urge this, — what 
 is it, as Mr. Newman says, ' but abominable selfishness 
 preached as religion ' ? If we are to labor for remote 
 posterity, will not our work remain, though we die ? 
 But if the world is to perish in fifty years, or a century, 
 what then ? " 
 
 " Far be it from me," said Harrington, " to compete 
 with your spiritual philanthropy, which, doubtless, will 
 not be content to work unless under a lease of a mil- 
 lion of years. I suppose even if you thought the world 
 would come to an end in a hundred years, (and really 
 I have no proof that the Apostles thought it would 
 end sooner, — they spoke of their death as coming 
 first,) you would not think it worth while to do any 
 thing ; the welfare of your children and grandchildren 
 would appear far too paltry for so ambitious a benevo- 
 lence as yours ! Most people — Christians, sceptics, or 
 otherwise — are contented to aim at the welfare of this 
 generation and the next, and think as little of their 
 great-great-grandchildren as of their great-great-grand- 
 fathers. That little vista terminates the projects of 
 their philanthropy, just as their own death is to them 
 the end of the world. Meantime, it appears, you would 
 be tempted to neglect the practical little you could do, 
 because you could not do more than for a century or so I 
 Pray, which is really the more benevolent ? Moreover, 
 as not one man in a million can or does think of bene- 
 fiting any but his immediate generation, you ought, 
 upon your principles, still to sit down inactive ; for they 
 for whom alone you can work will soon pass away too. 
 But the whole argument is too refined. No mortal — 
 excep ; you or Mr. Newman — would be wrought upon 
 by it.'^ 
 
SOME CURIOUS PARADOXES. 
 
 6& 
 
 " Well, but," said Fellowes, " as to the mistake of 
 the Apostles, there can be no doubt of that; it really 
 appears to me grossly disingenuous " — looking towards 
 me — " to deny it. What do you say, Mr. B. ? " re- 
 peating his assertion that the Apostles clearly thought 
 that the end of the world was close at hand, — in fact, 
 that it would happen in their generation. 
 
 I told him I was afraid I must run the risk of ap- 
 pearing in his eyes " grossly disingenuous " ; not that I 
 deemed it necessary to maintain that the Apostles had 
 any idea of the period of time which was to intervene 
 between the first promulgation of the Gospel and the 
 consummation of all things ; for when I found our Lord 
 himself acknowledging, " Of that day and that hour 
 knoweth no man, not even the angels, nor even the 
 Son, but the Father only," I could not wonder that the 
 Apostles were left to mere conjectures on a subject 
 which was then veiled even from his humanity. I said 
 I even thought it probable that their vivid feeling an- 
 ticipated the day, — that the interval between, so to 
 speak, was " foreshortened " to them ; but that I could 
 not see how the question of their inspiration, or the 
 truth of Christianity, was at all involved in their igno- 
 rance on that point ; unless, indeed, it could be proved 
 that they had positively stated that the predicted event 
 would take place in their own time. This, I acknowl- 
 edged, I could not find, — but much to the contrary ; 
 that the charge, indeed, had been so often repeated by 
 the infidel school, that they had persuaded themselves 
 of it, and spoke of it as if it were a decided point ; 
 but that as long as the second Epistle of St. Paul to 
 the Thessalonians remained, in which the Apostle ex- 
 pressly corrected misapprehensions similar to those 
 which infidelity still professes to found on the first 
 Epistle, I should continue to doubt whether Paul did 
 6* 
 
THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 not know his own mind better than his modern com- 
 mentators. I told him that we do not hear that the 
 Thessalonians persisted in believing that they had right- 
 ly interpreted Paul's words after he had himself dis- 
 owned the meaning they had put upon them ; that this 
 was a degree of assurance only possible to modern 
 critics; and that I was surprised that Mr. Newman 
 should have quietly assumed the alleged " mistake " 
 in his " Phases of Faith," without thinking it worth 
 while even to state the opposing argument from the 
 Second Epistle. I added, that the repeated references 
 which both Paul and Peter make to their own death, 
 as certain to take place before the dissolution of all 
 things, sufficiently prove that, however their view of 
 i the future might be contracted, they did not expect the 
 world to end in their day, and ought to have silenced 
 the perverse criticism on the popular expression, " Then 
 we which are alive and remain," &c. 
 
 Having briefly stated my opinion, Fellowes said he 
 saw that he and I were as little likely to agree as Har- 
 rington and he. " However," he continued, turning to 
 his friend, " to go back to the point from which we 
 digressed. My new faith, at all events, makes me hap- 
 py, which it is plain — too plain — that your want of 
 all faith does not make you." 
 
 " Whether it is your new faith," said the other, 
 "makes you happy, — whether you were not as happy 
 in your old faith, — whether there are not thousands of 
 Christians who are as happy with their faith (they would 
 say much happier, and I should say so too, if they not 
 only say they believe it, but believe it and practise it), I 
 will not inquire ; that my want of faith does not make 
 me happy is a sad truth, which I do not think it worth 
 while to deny ; though I must confess that there have 
 been many who have shared in my scepticism who have 
 
,^' PROBLEMa. " r~^ W 
 
 not shared in my misery. It is just because they have 
 not realized what they did not believe ; even as there 
 are thousands of soi-disant Christians who do not real- 
 ize what they say they do believe ; neither the one nor 
 the other are the happier or the more sorrowful for their 
 pretended tenets. This is simply because they stand 
 in no need of the admirable correctives supplied by 
 your new theology ; the present engrosses their solici- 
 tudes and affections ; and the mere talk of the belief or 
 the no-belief suffices to hush and tranquillize the heart 
 in relation to those most momentous subjects, on which 
 if man has not thought at all, he is a fool indeed. In 
 either case the ' future ' and the * eternal ' seem so far 
 removed that they seem to be an ' eternal futurity.' 
 Such parties look at that distant future much as chil- 
 dren at the stars ; it is a point, an invisible speck, in 
 the firmament. A sixpence held near the eye appears 
 larger ; and brought sufficiently close shuts out the uni- 
 verse altogether. But let us also forget the future, and 
 have a little talk of the past." 
 
 They resumed their conversation on subjects indif- 
 ferent as far as this journal is concerned, and I bade 
 them good night. 
 
 July 5. We were sitting in the library after break- 
 fast. The two college friends soon fell into chat, while 
 I sat writing at my separate table, but ready to resume 
 my capacity of reporter, should any polemical discus- 
 sion take place. I soon had plenty of employment. 
 After about an hour I heard Harrington say : — 
 
 " But I shall be happy, I assure you, to fill the void 
 whenever you will give me something solid wherewith 
 to fill it." 
 
 It was impossible that even a believer in the doc- 
 
68 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 trine that no " creed " can be taught, and that an " ex- 
 ternal revelation " is an impossibility, could be insen- 
 sible to the charm of making a proselyte. 
 
 " What is it," said Fellowes, " that you want ? " 
 " What do I want ? I want certainty, or quasi- 
 certainty, on those points on which if a man is content 
 to remain uncertain, he is a fool or a brute ; points re- 
 specting which it is no more possible for a genuine 
 sceptic — for I speak not of the thoughtless lover of 
 paradox, or the queer dogmatist who resolves that 
 nothing is true — to still the soul, than nakedness can 
 render us insensible to cold ; or hunger cure its own 
 pangs by saying, * Go to, now ; I have nothing to eat.' 
 The generality of mankind are insensible to these ques- 
 tions only because they imagine, even though it may 
 be falsely, that they possess certainty. They are prob- 
 lems which, whenever there is elevation of mind enough 
 to appreciate their importance, engage the real doubter 
 in a life-long conflict; and to attempt to appease the 
 restlessness of such a mind by the old prescriptions, — 
 the old quackish Epicurean nostrum of 'Carpe diem,- 
 
 — * Let us eat, drink, and be merry, for to-morrow we 
 die,' — * We do not know what the morrow may bring,' 
 
 — is like attempting to call back the soul from a mortal 
 syncope by applying to the nostrils a drop of eau de 
 Cologne, * Enjoy to-day, we do not know what the 
 morrow will bring!' Why, that is the very thought 
 which poisons to-day. No, a soul of any worth cannot 
 but feel an intense wish for the solution of its doubts, 
 even while it doubts whether they can be solved." 
 
 "> Carps diem ' certainly would not be my sole pre- 
 scription," said Fellowes ; " you have not told me yet 
 what you want." 
 
 " No, but I will. The questions on which I want 
 certainty are indeed questions about which philoso- 
 
PROBLEMS. 
 
 m 
 
 phers will often argue just to display their vanity, as 
 human vanity will argue about any thing; but they 
 are no sooner felt in their true grandeur, than they 
 absorb the soul." 
 
 " Still, what is it you want ? " 
 
 "I want to know — whence I came; whither lam 
 going. Whether there be, in truth, as so many say 
 there is, a God, — a tremendous Personality, to whose 
 infinite faculties the ^ great ' and the ' little ' (as ive call 
 them) equally vanish, — whose universal presence fills 
 all space, in any point of which he exists entire in the 
 amplitude of all his infinite attributes, — whose uni- 
 versal government extends even to me, and my fellow- 
 atoms, called men, — within whose sheltering embrace 
 even / am not too mean for protection ; — whether, if 
 there be such a being, he is truly infinite ; or whether 
 this vast machine of the universe may not have de- 
 veloped tendencies or involved consequences which 
 eluded his forethought, and are now beyond even his 
 control; — whether, for this reason, or for some other 
 necessity, such infinite sorrows have been permitted to 
 invade it ; — whether, above all. He be propitious or 
 offended with a world in which I feel too surely, in the 
 profound and various misery of man, that his aspects 
 are not <2/Z benignant ; — how, if he be offended, he is 
 to be reconciled ; — whether he is at all accessible, or 
 one to whom the pleasures and the sufferings of the 
 poor child of dust are equally subjects of horrible in- 
 difference; — whether, if such Omnipotent Being cre- 
 ated the world, he has now abandoned it to be the 
 sport of chance, and I am thus an orphan in the uni- 
 verse ; — whether this * universal frame ' be indeed 
 without a mind, and we are, in fact, the only forms of 
 conscious existence; — whether, as the Pantheist de- 
 clares, the universe itself be God, — ever making, never 
 
70 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 made, — the product of an evolution of an infinite se- 
 ries of * antecedents ' and 'consequents'; a God of 
 which — for I cannot say of whom — you and I are bits; 
 perishable fragments of a Divinity, itself imperishable 
 only because there will always be hits of it to perish ; 
 — whether, even upon some such supposition, this con- 
 scious existence of ours is to be rejiewed; and, if so, 
 under what conditions; or whether, when we have 
 finished our little day, no other dawn is to break upon 
 our night ; — whether the vale^ vale in eternum vale^ is 
 really the proper utterance of a breaking heart as it 
 closes the sepulchre on the object of its love." 
 
 His voice faltered ; and I was confirmed in my sus- 
 picions, that some deep, secret sorrow had had to do 
 with his morbid state of mind. In a moment, he re- 
 sumed: — 
 
 " These are the questions, and others like them, 
 which I have vainly toiled to solve. I, like you, have 
 been rudely driven out of my old beliefs; my early 
 Christian faith has given way to doubt ; the little hut 
 on the mountain-side, in which I thought to dwell in 
 pastoral simplicity, has been scattered to the tempest, 
 and I am turned out to the blast without a shelter. I 
 have wandered long and far, but have not found that 
 rest which you tell me is to be obtained. As I exam- 
 ine all other theories, they seem, to me, pressed by at 
 least equal difficulties with that I have abandoned. I 
 cannot make myself contented^ as others do, with be- 
 lieving nothing, and yet I have nothing to believe ; I 
 have wrestled long and hard with my Titan foes, — 
 but not successfully. I have turned to every quarter 
 of the universe in vain; I have interrogated my own 
 soul, but it answers not; I have gazed upon nature, 
 but its many voices speak no articulate language to 
 me ; and, more especially, when I gaze upon the bright 
 
PROBLEMS. 71 
 
 page of the midnight heavens, those orbs gleam upon 
 me with so cold a light, and amidst so portentous a 
 silence, that I am, with Pascal, terrified at the -specta- 
 cle of the infinite solitudes, — ' de ces espaces infinis.^ 
 I declare to you that I know nothing in nature so 
 beautiful or so terrible as those mute oracles." 
 
 " They are indeed mute," said Fellowes ; " but not 
 so that still voice which whispers its oracles within. 
 You have but to look inwards, and you may see, by 
 the direct gaze of J the spiritual faculty,' bright and 
 clear, those great * intuitions ' of spiritual truth which 
 the gauds and splendors of the external universe can 
 no more illustrate than can the illuminated characters 
 of an old missal; — just as little can any ftoo/c teach 
 these truths. You have truly said, the stars will shed 
 no light upon them ; they, on the contrary, must illu- 
 mine the stars ; I mean, they must themselves be seen 
 before the outward universe can assume intelligible 
 meaning ; must utter their voices before any of the 
 phenomena of the external world can have any real 
 significance ! " 
 
 " How different," said Harrington, " are the expe- 
 riences of mankind! You well described those inter- 
 nal oracles, if there are indeed such, as whispering their 
 responses ; if they utter them at all, it is to me in a 
 whisper so low that I cannot distinctly catch them. 
 Strange paradoxes ! the soul speaks, arid the soul lis- 
 tens, and the soul cannot tell what the soul says. That 
 is, the soul speaks to itself, and says, 'What have I 
 said ? ' I assure you that the ear of my soul (if I may 
 so speak) has often ached with intense effort to listen 
 to what the tongue of the soul mutters, and yet I can- 
 not catch it. You tell me I have only to look down 
 into the depths within. Well, I have. I assure you 
 that I have endeavoured to do so, as far as I know, 
 
72 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 honestly ; and, so far from seeing clear and bright those 
 splendors which you speak of, I can only see as in the 
 depths of a cavern occasional gleams of a tremulous, 
 flickering light, which distinctly shows me nothing, and 
 which, I half suspect, comes from without into these 
 recesses : or I feel as if gazing down an abyss, the 
 bottom of which is filled with water ; the light — and 
 that, too, for aught I know, reflected from without — 
 only throws a transient glimpse of my own image on 
 the surface of the dark water ; that image itself broken 
 and renewed as the water boils up from its hidden 
 fountain. Or, if I may recur to your own metaphor 
 instead of hearing in those deep caverns the clear ora- 
 cles of which you boast, I can distinguish nothing but 
 a scarcely audible murmur ; I know not whether it be 
 any thing more than -the lingering echoes of what I 
 heard in my childhood: or, rather, my soul speaks to 
 me on all these momentous subjects much as one in 
 sleep often does ; the lips move, but no sound issues 
 from them. I retire from these attempts, as those of 
 old from the cave of Trophonius, pale, terrified, and 
 dejected. In short," he continued, " I feel much as 
 Descartes says- he did when he had denuded himself of 
 all his traditional opinions, — a condition so graphically 
 described in the beginning of the second of his Medi- 
 tations. There is this difference, however, and in his 
 favor: that he imposed upon himself only a self-in- 
 flicted doubt, which he could terminate at any time. 
 His opinions had been but temporarily laid aside. 
 They were on the shelf, close at hand, ready to be 
 taken down again when wanted. But enough of this. 
 You will, I know, aid me, if you can. And, now I 
 think of it, do so on one point, by justifying your as- 
 sertion, made the other evening, as to Mr. Newman's 
 dilemma of the ' impossibility of a book-revelation.' " 
 
BOOK-REVELATION. 73 
 
 *• 1 said, I think, that Mr. Newman has satisfactorily 
 proved to me that a book-revelation of moral and spir- j 
 itual truth is impossible ; that God reveals himself to J 
 us within^ and not from withoutP 
 
 " As to what is impossible," said the other, " I fancy- 
 it would be difficult to get one thoroughly convinced 
 of his ignorance and feebleness to be other than very 
 cautious how he used the word. Perhaps, however, 
 Mr. Newman may be more readily excused than most 
 men for the strength with which he pronounces his 
 opinions ; for, as he has passed through an infinity of 
 experiences, it may have given him 'insight' into many 
 absurdities which, to the generality of mankind, do not 
 appear such. I think if / had believed half so many 
 things, I should have lost all confidence in myself. 
 What a strong mind, or what buoyant faith, he must . 
 have ! " 
 
 "Both, — both," said Fellowes. 
 
 " Well, be it so. But let us, as you promised yes- 
 terday, examine this very point." This led on to a 
 dialogue in which it was distinctly proved that 
 
 That may be possible with Man, which is . 
 impossible with god. 
 
 " Mr. Newman affirms, you say," said Harrington, 
 "that in his judgment every book-' revelation ' is an 
 absurdity and a contradiction ; or, in the words quoted 
 by you, ' impossible.' " 
 
 " Yes, — of ' moral and spiritual truth.' " 
 
 " And of any other truth — as of historical truth — 
 you say such revelation is unnecessary ? " 
 
 « Yes." 
 
 " Moreover, as you and Mr. Newman affirm, the bulk 
 
74 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 of mankind are not competent to investigate the claims 
 of such an historic revelation ? " 
 
 " Certainly. " 
 
 " And, therefore, it is impossible in fact^ if not per se, 
 unless God is to be supposed doing something both un- 
 necessary and futile." 
 
 " I think so, of course," said Fellowes. 
 
 t^ So that all book-revelation is impossible." 
 « I affirm it." 
 
 " Very well, — I do not dispute it. There still remain 
 one or two difficulties on which I should like to have 
 your judgment towards forming an opinion : and they 
 are on the very threshold of the subject. And, first, I 
 suppose you do not mean to restrict your term of a 
 * book-revelation ' to that only which is literally con- 
 signed to a book in our modern sense. You mean an 
 external revelation ? " 
 
 « Certainly." 
 
 " If, for example, you could recover a genuine manu- 
 script of Isaiah or Paul, you would not think it entitled 
 to any more respect, as authority, than a modern trans- 
 lation in a printed book, — though it might be free from 
 some errors ? " 
 
 " I should not" 
 
 " You w^ould not allow that parchment, however an- 
 cient, has any advantage in this respect over paper, how- 
 ever modern ? " 
 
 « Certainly not." 
 
 " Nor Hebrew or Greek over English or German ? " 
 
 « No." 
 
 " All such matters are in very deed but * leather and 
 prunella ' ? " 
 
 " Nothing more." 
 
 " And for a similar reason, surely, you would reject 
 at once the oral teaching of any such man as Paul or 
 
BOOK-REVELATION. K 
 
 Matthew, or any body else, if he professed that what 
 he said was dictated by divine inspiration, concurrently 
 or not with the use of his own faculties ? You would 
 repudiate at once his claims, however authenticated, to 
 be your infallible guide ; to tell you what you are to 
 believe, and how you are to act? For surely you will 
 not pretend that there is any difference between state- 
 ments which are merely expressed by the living voice, 
 and those same statements as consigned to a book; 
 except that, if any difference be supposed at all, one 
 would, for some reasons, rather have them in the last 
 shape than in the first." 
 
 " Of course there is no difference: to object to a book- 
 revelation and grant a * lip-revelation ' from God, or to \ 
 deny that lip-revelation (when it is made permanent / 
 and diffusible) the authority it had when first given, ? 
 would be a childish hatred of a book indeed," answered 
 Fellowes. 
 
 " I perfectly agree with you," replied Harrington. 
 " I understand you, then, to deny that any revelation 
 professedly given to you or to me does, or ever can, 
 come to us through any external channel, printed or on 
 parchment, ancient or modern, by the living voice or in 
 a written character; and that this is a proper transla- 
 tion, in a generalized form, of the phrase * a book-reve- 
 lation ' ? " 
 
 " I admit it. For surely, as already said, it would be 
 truly ridiculous to allow that Paul, if we could but hear 
 his living voice, was to be listened to with implicit 
 reverence as an authorized teacher of divine truth ; but 
 that his deliberate utterances, recorded in a permanent 
 form, were to be regarded not merely as less authorita- 
 tive, but of no authority at all." 
 
 " So that if you saw Peter or Paul to-morrow, you 
 would tell him the same story ? " 
 
76 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 " Of course I should," replied Mr. Fellowes. 
 
 " And you would of course also reject any such reve- 
 lation, coming from any external source, even though 
 the party proclaiming it confirmed it by miracles ? For 
 I cannot see how, if it be true that an external revela- 
 tion is impossible^ and that God always reveals himself 
 * within us ' and never * out of us,' (which is the principle 
 affirmed,) — I say I cannot see how miracles can make 
 any difference in the case." 
 
 " No, certainly not. But surely you forget that mira- 
 cles are impossible on my notion : for, as Mr. Newman 
 says " 
 
 " Whatever he says, I suppose you will not deny that 
 they are conceivable ; and that is all I am thinking of 
 at present. Their impossibility or possibility I will not 
 dispute with you just now. I am disposed to ag'vee 
 with you ; only, as usual, I have some doubts, which I 
 wish you would endeavor to solve ; but of that another 
 time. Meantime, jny good friend, be so obliging as to 
 /give me an answer to my question, — whether you 
 /would deem it to be your duty to reject any such 
 \ claims to authoritative teaching, even if backed by the 
 performance of miracles ? for, admitting miracles never 
 . to have occurred, and even that they never will, you, I 
 think, would hesitate to affirm that you clearly perceive 
 that the very notion involves a contradiction. They 
 are, at least, imaginable, and that is sufficient to sup- 
 ply you with an answer to my question. I once more 
 ask you, therefore, whether, if such a teacher of a book- 
 revelation, in the comprehensive sense of these words al- 
 ready defined, were to authenticate (as he affirmed) his 
 claims to reverence by any number, variety, or splen- 
 dor of miracles, — undoubted miracles, — you would 
 any the more feel bound to believe him ? " 
 
 " What ! upon the supposition that there was any 
 thing morall;^ objectionable in his doctrine ? " 
 
BOOK-REVELATION. 
 
 tf 
 
 " 1 will release you on that score too," said Harring- 
 ton, in a most accommodating manner. " Morally^ I 
 will assume there is nothing in his doctrine but what 
 you approve; and as for the rest, — to confirm which 
 I will suppose the revelation given, — I will assume 
 nothing in it which you could demonstrate to be false 
 or contradictory; in fact, nothing more difficult to be 
 believed than many undeniable phenomena of the ex- 
 ternal universe, — matters, for example, which you ac- 
 knowledge you do not comprehend, but which may 
 possibly be true for aught you can tell to the contrary." 
 
 " But if the supposed revelation contain nothing but 
 what, appealing thus to my judgment, I can approve, 
 where is the necessity of a revelation at all ? " 
 
 "Pid I say, my friend, that it was to contain nothing 
 but what is referred to your judgment? nothing but 
 what you would know and approve just as well without 
 it ? or even did I concede that you could have known 
 and approved without it that which, when it is proposed, 
 you do approve ? I simply wish an answer to the ques- 
 tion, whether, if a teacher of an ethical system such as 
 you entirely approved, with some doctrines attached, 
 incomprehensible it may be, but not demonstratively 
 false or immoral, were to substantiate (as he affirn^ed) 
 his claims to your belief by the performance of miracles, 
 you would or would not feel constrained any the more 
 to believe him ? " 
 
 " But I do not see the use of discussing a question 
 under circumstances which it is admitted never did nor 
 ever can occur ? " 
 
 " You * fight hard,' as Socrates says to one of his 
 antagonists on a similar occasion; but I really must 
 request an answer to the question. The case is an 
 imaginable one ; and you may surely say how, upon the 
 principles you have laid down, you think those prin 
 1* 
 
78 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 ciples would compel you to act in the hypothetical 
 case." 
 
 " Well, then, if I must give an answer, I should say 
 
 that upon the principles on which Mr. Newman has 
 
 argued the question, — that all revelation, except that 
 
 ^/\vhich is internal, is impossible, — I should not believe 
 
 the supposed envoy's claims." 
 
 " Whatever the number or the splendor of his 
 miracles ? " 
 
 " Certainly," said Fellowes, with some hesitation 
 however, and speaking slowly. 
 
 " For that does not affect the principles we are agreed 
 upon?" 
 
 " No," — not seeming, however, perfectly satisfied. 
 
 " Very well," resumed Harrington, " that is what I 
 call a plain answer to a plain question. I fancy (wa- 
 verer that I am I) that I should believe the man's claims. 
 I should be even greatly tempted to think that those 
 things which I could not entirely see ought to be con- 
 tained in the said revelation, were to be believed. But 
 all that is doubtless only because I am much weaker 
 in mind and will than either Mr. Newman or yourself. 
 You must pardon me ; it will in no degree practically 
 affect the question, except on the supposition that the 
 same infirmity is also a characteristic of man in general ; 
 that not /, from my weakness, am an exception to rule ; 
 but you, in your strength. But to dismiss that. You 
 have agreed that a book-revelation is impossible, and 
 not to be believed, even if avouched by miracles. Have 
 men in general been disposed to believe a book-revela- 
 tion impossible ? for if not, I am afraid they would be 
 very liable to run into error, if they share in my weak- 
 nesses. " 
 
 " Liable to run into error ! " said Fellowes. " Man 
 ?ias been perpetually running into this very error, 
 alway? and e erywhere." 
 
BOOK-REVELATION. ^lO 
 
 " If it be true, as you say, that man has always 
 and everywhere manifested a remarkable facility of 
 falling into this error, many will be tempted to think 
 that the thing is not so plainly impossible. It seems 
 so strange that men in general should believe things to 1 
 be possible when they are impossible. However, you 
 admit it as a too certain faclP 
 
 " I do, for I cannot honestly deny it ; but it has 
 been because they have confounded what is historical 
 or intellectual with moral and spiritual truth." 
 
 " I am afraid that will not excuse their absurdity, 
 because, as you admit, all book-revelation is impossible. 
 — But further, supposing men to have made this strange ^ 
 blunder, it only shows that the 'moral and spiritual'! 
 could not be very clearly revealed within; and no wonder] 
 men began to think that perhaps it might come to them/ 
 from without ! When men begin to mistake blue for 
 red, and square for round, and chaff for wheat, I think 
 it is high time that they repair to a doctor outside them 
 to tell them what is the matter with their poor brains. 
 Meantime an external revelation is impossible ? " 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 " But men, however, have somehow perversely be- 
 lieved it very possible, and that, in some shape or other, 
 it has been given ?" 
 
 " They have, I must admit." 
 
 " Unhappy race ! thus led on by some fatality, 
 though not by the constitution of their nature (rather 
 by some inevitable perversion of it), to believe as possi- 
 ble that which is so plainly impossible. O that it did 
 not involve a contradiction to wish that God would 
 relieve them from such universal and pernicious delu- 
 sions, by giving them a book-revelation to show them 
 that all book-revelations are impossible I " 
 
 " That," said Fellowes, laughing, " would indeed be 
 a novelty. Miracles would hardly prove thaiP 
 
80 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 " I think not," said Harrington. " But, as the poet 
 «5ays, * some god or friendly man ' may show the way. 
 Pray, permit me to ask, did you always believe that a 
 book-revelation was impossible ? " 
 
 " How can you ask the question ? — you know that 
 
 I was brought up, like yourself, in the reception of the 
 
 Bible as the only and infallible revelation of God to 
 
 mankind." 
 
 ' " To w^hat do you owe your emancipation from this 
 
 grievous and universal error, which still infects, in this 
 
 or some other shape, the myriads of the human race ? " 
 
 r—" I think principally to the work of Mr. Newman on 
 
 ' the < Soul,' and his « Phases of Faith.' " 
 
 " These have been to you, then, at least, a human 
 book-revelation that a ' divine book-revelation is impos- 
 sible ' ; a truth which I acknowledge you could not have 
 received by divine book-revelation, without a contradic- 
 tion. You ought, indeed, to think very highly of Mr. 
 Newman. It is well, when God cannot do a thing, 
 that man can ; though I confess, considering the very 
 wide prevalence of this pernicious error, it would have 
 been better, had it been possible, that man should have 
 had a divine book-revelation to tell him that a divine 
 book-revelation was impossible. Great as is my ad- 
 miration of Mr. Newman, I should, myself, have pre- 
 ferred having God's word for it. However, let us lay 
 it down as an axiom that a human book-revelation, 
 showing you that ' a divine book-revelation is impos- 
 sible,' is not impossible ; and really, considering the 
 almost universal error of man on this subject, — now 
 happily exploded, — the book-revelation which con 
 vinces man of this great truth ought to be reverenced 
 as of the highest value ; it is such that it might not 
 appear unworthy of celestial origin, if it did not imply 
 a contradiction that God should reveal to us in a booh 
 that a revelation in a book is impossible." 
 
BOOK-REVELATION. St 
 
 Fellovves looked very grave, but said nothing. 
 
 " But yet," continued Harrington, very seriously, " I 
 know not whether I ought not, upon your principles, 
 to consider this book-revelation with which you have 
 been favored, about the impossibility of such a thing, . 
 as itself a divine revelation ; in which case I am afraid 
 we shall be constrained to admit, in form^ that contra- / 
 diction which we have been so anxious to avoid, by ' 
 making * possible with man what is impossible with 
 God.' " 
 
 " I know not what you mean," said Fellowes, rather 
 offended. 
 
 " Why," said Harrington, quite unmoved, " I have \ 
 heard you say you do not deny, in some sense, inspira- 
 tion, but only that inspiration is preternatural ; that 
 every * holy thought,' every ' lofty and sublime con- 
 ception,' all ' truth and excellence,' in any man, come 
 from the * Father of lights,' and are to be ascribed to 
 him ; that, as Mr. Parker and Mr. Foxton affirm on 
 this point, the inspiration of Paul or Milton, or even of ■, 
 Christ and of Benjamin Franklin, is of the same nature, 
 and in an intelligible sense from the same source, — dif- 
 fering only in degree. Can you deem less, then, of that 
 great conception by which Mr. Newman has released 
 you, and possibly many more, from that bondage to a 
 * book-revelation ' in which you were brought up, and 
 in which, by your own confession, you might have been 
 still enthralled ? Can you think less of this than that 
 it is an ' inspired ' voice which has proclaimed * liberty 
 to the captive,' and made known to you ^ spiritual 
 freedom ' ? If any thing be divine about Mr. Newman's 
 system, surely it must be this. Ought you not to thank 
 God that he has been thus pleased to * open your eyes,' 
 and to turn you from ' darkness to light,' — to raise up 
 in these last days such an apostle of the truth which had 
 
82 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 lain so long * hidden from ages and generations ' ? Can 
 you do less than admire the divine artifice by which, 
 when it was impossible for God directly to tell man 
 that he could directly tell him nothing, He raised up 
 his servant Newman to perform the office ? " 
 
 " For my part," said Fellowes, " I am not ashamed to 
 say, that I think I ought. to thank God for such a boon 
 as Mr. Newman has, in this instance at least, been the 
 instrument of conveying to me : I acknowledge it is a 
 most momentous truth, without which I should still 
 have been in thraldom to the ' letter.' " 
 
 " Very well ; then the book-revelation of Mr. New- 
 \ man is, as I say, in some sort to yoii^ perhaps to many^ 
 I a divine * book-revelation.' " 
 
 " Well, in some sense, it is so." 
 
 " So that now we have, in some sense, a divine book- 
 revelation to prove that a divine book-revelation is im- 
 '--^ possible." 
 
 " You are pleased to jest on the subject," said 
 Fellowes. 
 
 " I never was more serious in my life. How^ever, I 
 will not press this point any further. You shall be per- 
 mitted to say (what I will not contradict) that, though 
 Mr. Newman may be inspired, for aught I know, in 
 . that modified sense in which you believe in any such 
 phenomenon, — inspired as much (say) as the inventor 
 of Lucifer matches, — yet that his book is not divine, — 
 that it is purely human ; and even, if you please, that 
 God has had nothing to do with it. But even then I 
 must be allowed to repeat, that at least you have derived 
 from a ' book-revelation ' what it would not have been 
 unworthy of a divine book-revelation to impart, if it 
 could have been imparted without contradiction. Such 
 book-revelation, in this case, must be of inestimable 
 value to man, because, without it, he must have persisted 
 
BOOK-REVELATION. 83 
 
 in that ancient and all but inveterate and universal de- 
 lusion of which we have so often spoken. There is 
 only one little inconvenience, I apprehend, from it in 
 relation to the argument of such a book ; and that is, 
 that I am afraid that men, so far from being convinced 
 thereby that a divine revelation is impossible, will rather 
 argue the contrary way, and say, * If Mr. Newman can 
 do so much, what might not God do by the very same 
 method ? ' If he can thus break the spiritual yoke of 
 his fellow-men by only teaching them negative truth, 
 surely it may be possible for God to be as useful 
 in teaching positive truth. I almost tremble, I assure 
 you, lest, by his most conspicuous success in imparting 
 to you such important truth, and reclaiming you from 
 such a fundamental error, which lay at the very thresh- 
 old of your ' spiritual ' progress, he may, so far from 
 convincing mankind of the truth of his principle, lead 
 them rather to believe that a ' book-revelation ' may 
 have been very possible, and of singular advantage. 
 But, to speak the truth, I am by no means sure that 
 Mr. Newman has not done something more than what , 
 we have attributed to him, and whether his book-reve- 
 lation be not a true divine revelation to you also." 
 
 Fellowes looked rather curious, and I thought a little 
 angry. 
 
 " My good friend," said Harrington, " I am sure you 
 wiU not refuse me every satisfaction you can, in my 
 present state of doubt and perplexity ; that you will 
 render me (as indeed you have promised) all the assist- 
 ance in your power, by kindly telling me what you 
 know of your own religious development and history. 
 I cannot sufficiently admire your candor and frankness 
 hitherto." 
 
 " You may depend upon it," said Fellowes, " I \vill 
 not hesitate to answer any questions you choose to put. 
 
■f 
 
 84 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 I am not ashamed of the system I have adopted, — oi 
 rather selected^ for I do not agree with any one writer, — 
 although I confess I wish I were a better advocate 
 of it." 
 
 " O, rest assured that * spiritualism ' can lose nothing 
 by your advocacy. As to your independence of mind, 
 you act, I am sure, upon the maxim in verba nullius 
 jurare. Your system seems to me quite a species of 
 eclecticism. There is no fear of my confounding you 
 with the good old lady who, after having heard the 
 sermon of some favorite divine, was asked if she under- 
 stood him. ' Understand him ! ' said she ; * do you 
 think I would presume ? — blessed man I ' Nor with 
 the Scotchwoman who required, as a condition of her 
 admiration, that a sermon should contain some things 
 at least which transcended her comprehension. ' Eh . 
 it is a' vara weel,' said she, on hearing one which did 
 not fulfil this reasonable condition ; ' but do ye call that 
 fine preaching ? — there was na ae word that I could 
 na explain mysel.' " 
 
 Fellowes smiled good-naturedly, and then said, " I was 
 ^oing to observe, in relation to the present subject, that 
 I it is * moral and spiritual ' truth which Mr. Newman 
 \says it is impossible should be the subject of a book- 
 revelation." 
 
 Harrington, apparently without listening to him, 
 suddenly said, " By the by, you agree with Mr. New- 
 man, I am sure, that God is to be approached by the 
 individual soul without any of the nonsense of media- 
 1 tion, which has found so general — all but universal — 
 sanction in the religious systems of the world ? " 
 
 " Certainly," said Fellowes, " nor is there probably 
 any < spiritualist ' (in whatever we may be divided) who 
 would deny that." 
 
 " Supposing it true, does it not seem to you the most 
 delightful and stupendous of all spiritual truths ? " 
 
BOOK-REVELATION. ^ 
 
 " It does, indeed," said Fellowes. 
 
 " Could you always realize i^ my friend ? " said 
 Harrington. 
 
 " Nay, I was once a firm believer in the current 
 orthodoxy, as you well know." 
 
 * Now you see with very different eyes. You can 
 say, with the man in the Gospel, * This I know, that, 
 whereas I was blind, now I see." 
 
 « I can." 
 
 " And you attribute this happy change of sentiment 
 to the perusal of those writings of Mr. Newman from 
 which you think that I also might derive similar ben- 
 efits?" 
 
 « I do." 
 ' " It appears, then, that to you^ at least, my friend, 
 it is possible that there may be a book-revelation of 
 * moral and spiritual truth ' of the highest possible sig- 
 nificance and value, although you do not consider the 
 book to be divine ; now, if so, I fancy many will be 
 again inclined to say, that what Mr. Newman has done 
 in your case, God might easily do, if he pleased, for 
 mankind in general ; and with this advantage, that He 
 would not include in the same book which revealed 
 truth to the mind, and rectified its errors, an assurance 
 that any such book-revelation was impossible." 
 
 " But, my ingenious friend," cried Fellowes, with 
 some warmth, " you are inferring a little too fast for 
 the premises. I do not admit that Mr. Newman or any 
 other spiritualist has revealed to me any truth, but only 
 that he has been the instrument of giving shape and 
 distinct consciousness to what was, in fact, uttered in 
 the secret oracles of my own bosom before ; and, as I 
 believe, is uttered also in the hearts of all other men." 
 
 " I fear your distinction is practically without a dif- 
 ference. It will certainly not avail us. You say you 
 
 8 
 
86 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 were once in no distinct conscious possession of that 
 system of spiritual truth which you now hold ; on the 
 contrary, that you believed a very different system • 
 that the change by which you were brought into your 
 present condition of mind — out of darkness into light 
 — out of error into truth — has been produced chiefly 
 by Mr. Newman's deeply instructive volumes. If so, 
 one will be apt to argue that a book-revelation may be 
 of the very utmost use and benefit to mankind in gen- 
 eral, — if only by making that which would else be the 
 inarticulate mutter of the internal oracle distinct and 
 iclear ; and that if God would but give such a book, the 
 same value at least might attach to it as to a book of 
 Mr. Newman's. It little matters to this argument, — to 
 the question of the possibility, value, or utility of an 
 external revelation, — whether the truths it is to com- 
 municate be absolutely unknown till it reveals them, or 
 only not known, which you confess was your own case. 
 If your natural taper of illumination is stuck into a 
 dark lantern, and its light only can flash upon the soul 
 when some Mr. Newman kindly lifts up the slide for 
 you ; or if your internal oracle, like a ghost, will not 
 speak till it is spoken to; or, like a dumb demon, awaits 
 to find a voice, and confess itself to be what it is, at the 
 summons of an exorcist ; — the same argument precise 
 ly will apply for the possibility and utility of a book- 
 revelation from God to men in general. What has been 
 done for you by man, even though no more were 
 done, might, one would imagine, be done for the rest of 
 mankind, and in a much better manner, by God. If that 
 internal and native revelation which both you and Mr. 
 Newman say has its seat in the human soul, be clear 
 without his aid, why did he write a syllable about it ? If, 
 as you say, its utterances were not recognized, and that 
 his statements have first made them familiar to you, 
 
BOOK-REVELATION. 87 
 
 the same argument (the Christian will say) will do fof 
 the Bible. It is of little use that nature teaches you, if 
 Mr. Newman is to teach nature." 
 
 Fellowes was silent ; and, after a pause, Harrington 
 resumed ; he could not resist the temptation of saying, 
 with playful malice, — 
 
 " Perhaps you are in doubt whether to say that the 
 internal revelation which you possess does teach you 
 clearly or darkly. It is a pity that nature so teaches 
 as to leave you in doubt till some one else teaches you 
 what she does teach you. She must be like some 
 ladies, who keep school indeed, but have accomplished 
 masters to teach every thing. Shall we call Mr. New 
 man the Professor of ' Spiritual Insight ' ? Would it 
 not be advisable, if you are in any uncertainty, to write 
 to him to ask whether the internal truths which no ex- 
 ternal revelation can impart be articulate or not; or 
 whether, though a book from God could not make them 
 plainer, you are at Liberty to say that a book of Mr. 
 Newman's will ? It is undoubtedly a subtile question 
 for him to decide for you ; namely, what is the condi- 
 tion of your own consciousness ? But I really see no 
 help for it, after what you have granted ; nor, without 
 his aid, do I see whether you can truly affirm that you 
 have an internal revelation, independently of him or not. 
 And whichever way he decides, I am afraid lest he 
 should prove both himself and you very much in the 
 wrong. If he decides for you, that your internal reve- / 
 lation must and did anticipate any thing he might \ 
 write, and that it was perfectly articulate, as well as \ 
 inarticulately present to your < insight ' before^ it will be / 
 difficult to determine why he should have written at 
 all ; he would also prove, not only how superfluous is 
 your gratitude, but that he understands your own con- 
 sciousness better than you do. If he decides it the 
 
88 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 other way, and says you had a * revelation ' before he 
 revealed it, yet that he made it utter articulate lan- 
 guage, and interpreted its hieroglyphics, — then it once 
 tnore seems very strange that either you or he should 
 contend that a ' book-revelation ' is impossible, since 
 Mr. Newman has produced it. If, however, he decides 
 in the first of these two ways, I fear, my good friendj 
 that we shall fall into another paradox worse than all, 
 for it will prove that the ^internal revelation' which 
 you possess is better known to Mr. Newman than to 
 yourself, which will be a perfectly worthy conclusion of 
 all this embarras. It would be surely droll for you to 
 affirm that you possess an internal revelation which 
 renders all * external revelation ' impossible, but yet that 
 [its distinctness is unperceived by yourself, and awaits 
 the assurance of an external authority, which at the 
 same time declares all ' external revelation ' impossi- 
 ble!" 
 
 " There is still another word," said Fellowes, " which 
 you forget that Mr. Newman employs ; he says that 
 an authoritative book-revelation of moral and spiritual 
 truth is impossible." 
 
 " Why," said Harrington, laughing, " while you were 
 without the truth, as you say you were, it was not 
 likely to be authoritative : if, when you have it, it is 
 recognized as authoritative, which you say is the case 
 with the truth you have got from Mr. Newman, — if 
 you acknowledge that it ought to have authority as 
 soon as known, — that is all (so far as I know) that is 
 contended for in the case of the Bible. If you mean 
 by * authoritative ' a revelation which not only ought 
 to be, but which is so, I think mankind make it 
 pretty plain that neither the ' external ' nor the * in- 
 ternal' revelation is particularly authoritative. In 
 short," he concluded " I do not see how we can 
 
BOOK-REVELATION. 
 
 doubt, on the principles on which Mr. Newman acts 
 and yet denies, that a book-revelation of moral and 
 spiritual truth is very possible ; and if given, would be 
 signally useful to mankind in general. If Mr. New- 
 man, as you admit, has written a book which has put 
 you in possession of moral and spiritual truth, surely it 
 may be modestly contended that God might dictate a 
 better. Either you were in possession of the truths in 
 question before he announced them, or you were not ; 
 if not, Mr. Newman is your infinite benefactor, and 
 God may De at least as great a one ; if you were, then 
 Mr. Newman, like Job's comforters, * has plentifully 
 declared the thing as it is.' If you say, that you were 
 in possession of them, but only by implication; that 
 you did not see them clearly or vividly till they were 
 propounded, — that is, that you saw them, only practi- 
 cally you were blind, and knew them, only you were 
 virtually ignorant; still, whatever Mr. Newman does 
 (and it amounts, in fact, to revelation), that may the 
 Bible also do. If even that be not possible, and man 
 naturally possesses these truths explicitly, as well as im- 
 plicitly, then, indeed, the Bible is an impertinence, — 
 and so is Mr. Newman." 
 
 After a pause, Harrington suddenly asked, — 
 
 " Do you not think there is some difference between 
 yourself and a Hottentot ? " 
 
 " I should hope so," said Fellowes, with a laugh. 
 
 " But still the Hottentot has all the * spiritual facul- 
 ties ' of which you speak so much ? " 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 " What makes this prodigious difference ? — for of 
 that, as a fact, we cannot dispute." 
 
 " Different culture and education, I suppose." 
 
 " This culture and education is a thing external ? " 
 
 ' It is." 
 
 8* 
 
90 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH 
 
 " This culture and education, however, must be of 
 immense importance indeed, since it makes all the dif 
 ference between the having or the not having, prac- 
 tically, any just religious notions, or sentiments, or 
 practices, (even in your estimation,) whatever our in- 
 ternal revelation." 
 "-^ " But still I hold, with Mr. Parker, that the * absolute 
 religion ' is the same in all men. The difference is in 
 circumstantials only, as Mr. Parker says." 
 
 " When it serves his turn," said Harrington ; " and he 
 says the contrary, when it serves his turn ; then the de- 
 praved forms of religion are hideous enough : when he 
 wishes to commend his ' absolute religion,' they merely 
 differ in circumstantials. Circumstantials ! I have hard- 
 ly patience to hear these degrading apologies for all that 
 is most degrading in humanity. If the ' absolute relig- 
 ion,' as he vaguely calls it, be present in these systems 
 of gross ignorance and unspeakable pollution, it is so 
 incrusted and buried that it is indiscernible and worth- 
 less. Rightly, therefore, have you expressed a hope 
 that there is a * prodigious difference ' between you and 
 a Hottentot. You adhere to that, I presume." 
 
 " Of course I shall,' said Fellowes. 
 
 " Well, let us see. Would you think, if you were 
 turnedinto a Hottentot to-morrow, you had a religion 
 worthy of the name, or not ? " 
 
 " I am afraid I should not." 
 r " You hope it, you mean. Well, then, it appears 
 ; that culture and education do somehow make all the 
 difference between a man's having a religion worthy 
 of the name, and the contrary ? " 
 
 " I must admit it, for I cannot deny it in point of 
 fact." 
 
 " And you also admit that, in nine hundred and 
 ninety-nine cases out of a thousand, or in a much larger 
 
BOOK-REVELATION. -"^^ 91 
 
 proportion, taking all the nations of the world since 
 time began, the said culture and education have been 
 wanting, or ineffably bad ? " 
 
 « Yes.'» 
 
 " So that there have been very few, in point of fact, 
 who have attained that * spiritual ' religion for which 
 you and our spiritualists contend; and those few 
 chiefly^ as Mr. Newman admits, amongst Jews and 
 Christians, though they too have had their most griev- 
 ous errors, which have deplorably obscured it? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " It appears, then, I think, that if we allow that the 
 internal revelation without a most happy external cul- 
 ture and development will not form any religion at all 
 worthy of the name, and that that happy culture and 
 development (from whatsoever cause) are not the con- 
 dition of our race, — it appears, I say, rather odd to 
 affirm that any divine aid in this absolutely necessary 
 external education of humanity is not only superfluous, 
 but impossible.^^ 
 
 Another pause ensued, when Harrington again said, 
 " You will think me very pertinacious, perhaps, but I 
 must say that, in my judgment, Mr. Newman's theory 
 oi progressive religion (for he also admits a doctrine of 
 progress) favors the same sceptical doubts as to the 
 impossibility of a book-revelation. You do not deny, 1 
 suppose, that he does think the world needs enlight- 
 ening ? " 
 
 " Had he not believed that, he would not have 
 written." 
 
 " I suppose not. However, how the world should 
 need it, if your principles be true, and every man brings 
 into the world his own particular lantern, — ' Enter 
 Moonshine,' — I do not quite understand ; or, if it is 
 in need of such illunilnation notwithstanding, why it 
 
92 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 should not be possible for an external revelation to 
 supply it still better than your illuminati, I am equally 
 unable to understand. But let that pass. Mr. New- 
 man concludes that the world does stand in need of 
 this illumination, and that it has had it at various 
 times. It is his opinion, is it not, that men began by 
 being polytheists and idolaters ? " 
 
 " It is so ; and surely all history bears out the 
 theory." 
 
 " Many doubt it. I will not venture to give any 
 opinion, except that there are inexplicable difficulties, 
 as usual, on both sides. Just now I am quite willing 
 to take his statement for granted, and suppose that man 
 in the infancy of his race was, in spite of the aid of 
 his very peculiar illumination, — which seems to have 
 
 * rayed out darkness,' — ^ as very a Troglodyte in civili- 
 zation and religion as you (for the special glory of his 
 Creator, I suppose, and the honor of your species) can 
 wish him to have been. Well, man began by being a 
 polytheist, and verj/ gradually emerged out of that 
 pleasant condition — or rather an infinitesimal portion 
 of the race has emerged out of it, into the better forms 
 of idolatry — (poor wretch I), and from thence to mon- 
 otheism ; that, in short, his polytheism is not the cor- 
 ruption of his monotheism, but his monotheism an 
 elevation of his polytheism. Yet it is, after all, a 
 cheerless * progress,' which often ' advances backward.' 
 Mr. Newman says that * the law of God's moral uni- 
 verse, as known to us, is that oi progress ; that we trace 
 it from old barbarism to the methodized Egyptian idol- 
 atry, to the more flexible polytheism of Syria and 
 Greece,' and so forth ; and so in Palestine, from the 
 
 • image-worship in Jacob's family to the rise of spirit- 
 ual sentiment under David, and Hezekiah's prophets.' * 
 
 * Phases, p. 223. 
 
BOOK-REVELATION. 93 
 
 Yet he a.so tells us, * Ceremonialism more and more I 
 incrusted the restored nation, and Jesus was needed to/ 
 spur and stab the consciences of his contemporaries,' 
 and recall them to more spiritual perceptions.' Well, 
 thus came Christ to ' stab and spur ' ; and faith, I think 
 * stab and spur ' were again needed by the end of the 
 third century. Successive reformers are needed to * stab 
 and spur ' the thick hide of humanity, without which it 
 will not, it seems, go forward, but perversely go back- 
 ward ; and even with this perpetual application of the 
 goad of some spiritual mohout, man crawls on at an 
 intolerably slow pace. However, ' stab ' and ' spur ' are 
 needed, which is all I am now intent upon." 
 
 " Yes ; but each of those great souls who have 
 stimulated the dull mind of ordinary humanity derived 
 from its ow7i internal illumination that spiritual light 
 which they have c ommunicated to the rest of man- 
 kind!" 
 
 " For themselves, perhaps, my friend," said Harring- 
 ton, " and if they had kept it to themselves in many 
 instances, probably the world would have been no 
 loser. That they had it from within, is true, — if your 
 theory is true. But to others, to the bulk of mankind, 
 they have imparted this light ; it has been to mankind ' 
 an \ external revelation ' ; it is from without, not from 
 within, that this light has been received, and that the 
 boasted * progress ' of the race has been secured. It 
 remains, therefore, only for your Christian opponent to 
 ask, how it should be impossible that mankind should be 
 indebted to an external revelation by God, when it is 
 plain that they are indebted for the like from man ! and 
 whether it is not conceivable that, if Moses and Soc- 
 rates and Paul could do so much for them, God could 
 do a trifle more ? You will say, perhaps, on the old 
 plea, that these profounder spirits only made articulate 
 
94 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 that whicb abeady existed inarticulately in the hearts 
 of those whom they addressed ; that they only chafed 
 into life the marble statue of Pygmalion, — the dor- 
 mant principles aad sentiments which had a home in 
 the human heart before, only they were unluckily 
 treated as strangers. Well^jthe_s_ame thing may the 
 apologist for the Bible sayj — merely adding, perhafiS 
 that it does more effectually the business of thus awa- 
 kening * dormant ' powers, and giving a substantive 
 form to the shadow^y conceptions of mankind. But it 
 is still, in either"case, to the bulk of the world an 
 external revelation, an outward aid which gives them 
 the actual conscious possession of spiritual light, and 
 secures the vaunted progress of humanity. Such are 
 some of my difficulties respecting your theory of the 
 impossibility and inutility of any and all external reve- 
 lations. I must, in candor, say that our discussion has 
 left them where they were." 
 
 " There is one thing," he added, " about your system 
 which I acknowledge would be consolatory to me if 
 it were but true. If man be really in possession of an 
 internal and universal revelation of moral and spiritual 
 truth, you neither can nor need take any trouble to 
 enlighten and convert him. It relieves one of all super- 
 fluous anxiety on that score." 
 
 " Pardon me," said Fellowes, " it is Mr. Newman's 
 spiritual theory alone which does allow the prospect of 
 success to any such efforts. As he truly says, when 
 the spiritual champion has thrown off the burden of an 
 historical Christianity, he advances, as lightly equipped 
 as Priestley himself. I should say much more lightly. 
 * What,' says he, ' may we now expect from the true 
 theologian when he attacks sin, and vice, and gross un- 
 spirituality ? ' * The weapon he uses,' to employ Mr. 
 Newman's own language, * is as ligh^juing from God, 
 
BOOK-REVELATION. 95 
 
 kindled from the spirit within him, and piercing through 
 the unbeliever's soul, convincing his conscience of sin, 
 and striking him to the ground before God ; until those 
 who believe receive it not as the word of man, but as 
 what it is, in truth, the word of God. Its action is 
 directly upon^e_conscience and upon the soul, and 
 hence its wonderful results ; not on the critical faculties, 
 upon which the spirit is powerless.' * Again, he says 
 that such a preacher < will have plenty to say^ alike to 
 the vulvar and to the philosophers.^ appreciable by the 
 soul.' Hear him again : * Then he may speak with 
 confidence of what he knows and feels ; and call on 
 his hearers of themselves to try and prove his words- 
 Then the conversion of men to the love of God may 
 take place by hundreds and thousands^ as in some former 
 instances. Then, at length, some hope may dawn that 
 Mohammedans and Hindoos may be joined in one fold 
 with us, under one Shepherd, who will only have re- 
 gained his older name of the Lord God.' " f 
 
 " By all the gods and goddesses of all the nations," 
 said Harrington, " I cannot understand it. How man- 
 kind should need such teaching, if your theory be true ; 
 how, if they need it, it is possible that you should give 
 it, if all external revejation of moral and spiritual truth 
 be impossible ; how, if it is impossible, it should be im- 
 possible for a God, by a Bible, to give the like ; how 
 you can get at the souls of people at all except through 
 the intervention of the senses and the intellect, — the 
 latter of which you say has nothing to do with the 
 * soul,' and surely the former can have as little ; or how, 
 if you can get at them by this intervention, it is im- 
 possible that a Bible should, — is all to me a mystery. 
 But let that pass. If your last account be true, one 
 
 * Soul, p. 244. t Soul, p. 258. 
 
96 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 thing is clear ; that a splendid career is open to you 
 and your friends. You can immediately employ this* 
 irresistible * weapon ' for the verification of your views 
 and the conversion of the human race. You can re- 
 new, or rather realize, the triumphs of early Christian- 
 ity ; — I say realize, for you and Mr. Newman believe 
 them to be, for the most part, fabulous^ and that it was 
 the army of Constantine that conquered the Empire for 
 Christianity ; but you can turn such fables into truths. 
 Surely the least you can do is to be off as a mission- 
 ary to China or India. Go to Constantinople, my dear 
 fellow, and take the Great Turk by the beard. Nor can 
 Mr. Newman do less than repair to Bagdad, upon a 
 second and more hopeful mission. You will let mt 
 know when you have demolished Mohammedanisni, 
 and got fairly into Thibet. Alexander's career will be 
 nothing to it. But alas ! I fear it will be only another 
 variety of that impossible thing, — a book-revelation ! " 
 
 " Nay," said Fellowes, " we must first finish our mis- 
 sion at home, and try our weapons upon you and such 
 as you. We must subdue such as you first." 
 
 " Then you will never go," said Harrington. 
 
 " Never mind," I said, " Mr. Fellowes ; Harrington is 
 very mischievous to-day. But, as he said he would not 
 contest the ground of your dictum^ that a book-revela- 
 tion of moral and spiritual truth is impossible, so he 
 has not entered into it. Will you let me, on some 
 future day, read to you a brief paper upon it ? I have 
 no skill — or but little — in that erotetic method of 
 which Harrington is so fond." He assented, and here 
 this long conversation ended. 
 
 July 7. Harrington and I spent a portion of this 
 morning alone (Fellowes was gone out for a day or two), 
 
07 
 
 conversing on various subjects. I hardly know how it 
 was, but I felt a strong reluctance to enter with for- 
 mality on that one which yet lay nearest my heart, — 
 whether from the fear lest I should do more harm than 
 good ; lest controversy should, as so often happens, in- 
 durate rather than soften the heart : or perhaps I had 
 some secret distrust of my own temper or his. Yet, 
 if I felt any thing of the last, I am sure I did him injus- 
 tice ; and (I hope) myself. Be it as it may, I thought 
 it better just to exchange a shot now and then, — some- 
 times it was a red-hot shot too on both sides, — as we 
 passed and repassed, in the current of conversation, than 
 come to a regular set-to, yard-arm to yard-arm. From 
 whatever cause, he gave me abundant opportunity of 
 recurring to the subject, for he was perpetually, and I 
 believe unconsciously, leading the conversation towards 
 it ; not, I think, from confidence in his logical prowess, 
 but from the restlessness in which (he did not pretend 
 to disguise it) his state of scepticism had plunged him. 
 It was curious, indeed, to see how every thing, sooner 
 or later, fell into one channel. For example, I hap- 
 pened to remark, that a cottage in the valley which we 
 saw from his library window would make a pretty ob- 
 ject in a picture, — it was the only sign of life in the 
 little valley. " I should like the view itself all the better 
 without it," said he. I observed that a painter would 
 feel very differently ; and if there were no such object, 
 he would be sure to put one in. " O, certainly," he 
 replied, " a painter would, and justly ; there is no doubt 
 that the shadow of animated existence is very admirable ; 
 a picture, I admit, is wonderfully more picturesque 
 with such a picture of life ; especially as the painter can 
 and does remove every thing offensive to his fastidious 
 art. He is very apt to regard the objects in his land- 
 scapes much as a poet does a cottage, according to 
 
/ 
 
 98 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 Cowper's confession. ' By a cottage,' says he to Lady 
 Hesketh, * you must always understand, my dear, that 
 a poet means a house with six sashes in front, two 
 comfortable parlors, a smart staircase, and three bed- 
 rooms of convenient dimensions.' As I have looked 
 sometimes down a mountain glen, and seen the most 
 picturesque huts upon its sides, I have thought how 
 little the painter could dispense with them. But, then? 
 how easily the philosopher can : for, alas ! I have taken 
 wing from my station, and looked in through the miser- 
 able casement, and seen, not only what is disgusting to 
 the senses, — which is a small matter, — but ignorance, 
 and disease, and fear, and guilt, and racking pain, and 
 doubt, and death ; and I have not been able to help 
 saying, in pity, * O for absolute solitude ! — how much 
 nature would be improved if the human race were 
 annihilated ! ' " 
 
 " The human race," said I, laughing, "is very much 
 obliged to the pity which would thus*exterminate them ; 
 but as one of them, I should decidedly object to so 
 sweeping a mode of improving the picturesque. Be- 
 sides, I suppose you make an exception in favor of 
 yourself, otherwise the picturesque would vanish just 
 when it was brought to perfection. I am often in- 
 clined to say with Paley, though I remember well hav- 
 ing sometimes felt as you do, * It is a happy world, 
 after all.' I admit, however, that a buoyant, cheerful, 
 habitual conviction of this will depend on the consti- 
 tution of the mind, and even vary with the same mind 
 p4n its different moods. But I am sure it may be a 
 ' really happy world, whatever its sorrows, to any one 
 who will view it as he ought." 
 
 " I wish you could teach me the art." 
 r" Mt is," said I, " to exercise the faith and the hope 
 of a Christian, humbly to regard this life as what it 
 
99 
 
 isj — a scene af discipline and schpolingt a pilgrimage" 
 to a better. It is an old remedy, but it has been often 
 tried ; and to milHons of our race has made this world 
 more than tolerable, and death tranquil, nay, trium 
 phant. Do you remember Schiller's ' Walk among the 
 Linden-Trees'?" 
 
 « Perfectly well." 
 
 " Do you not remember how the two youths differ in 
 their estimate of the beautiful in nature ? * Is it pos- 
 sible,' says Edwin, ' you can thus turn from the cup of 
 joy, sparkling and overflowing as it is ? ' — ' Yes,' said 
 Wollmar, 'when one finds a spider in it; and why 
 not ? In your eyes, to be sure. Nature decks herself out 
 like a rosy-cheeked maiden on her bridal day. To me 
 she appears an old, withered beldame, with sunken 
 eyes, furrowed cheeks, and artificial ornaments in her 
 hair. How she seems to admire herself in this her Sun- 
 day finery ! But it is the same w^orn and ancient gar- 
 ment, put off and on some hundreds of thousands of 
 times.' But how natural is the explanation of all given 
 at the beautiful close of the dialogue ! * Here,' said the 
 jocund Edwin, * I first met my Juliet.' — ' And it was 
 under these linden-trees,' says Wollmar, 'that I lost 
 my Laura.' It 'wa§ their mood of mind, and not the 
 outward world, that made all the difference. All nature, 
 innocent thing ! must consent to take her hue from it. 
 You have, I fear, lost your Laura," — simply alluding 
 to his early faith ; " or shall I suppose, from your pres- 
 ent mood, that you have just met with your Juliet?" 
 I spoke, of course, of his philosophy. 
 
 He was looking out of the window ; but on my turn- 
 ing my gaze towards him, I saw such a look of peculiar 
 anguish, that I felt I had inadvertently touched a ter- 
 rible chord indeed. I turned the conversation hastily, 
 by remarking (almost without thinking of what I said) 
 
100 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 on the beautiful contrast between the light blue of the 
 sky and tffe green of the lawn and trees ; and proceed- 
 ed to remark on the degree in which the mere organic 
 or sensational pleasures of vision formed an ingredient 
 in the pleasurable associations of the complex " beau- 
 tiful." 
 
 He gradually resumed conversation ; and we dis- 
 cussed the subject of the "beautiful" for some time. 
 Yet I know not how it was, nor can I trace the steps 
 by which we deviated, — only that Rousseau's summer- 
 day dreams on the Lake of Bienne was a link in the 
 chain, — we somehow soon found ourselves on the 
 brink of the great controversy respecting the " Origin 
 of Evil." " I have read many books on that subject," 
 said I ; " but I intend to read no more ; and I should 
 think you have had enough of them." 
 
 " Why, yes," said he, laughing ; " whatever philoso- 
 phers may have thought of the origin of evil, it is a 
 great aggravation of it to read their speculations. The 
 best thing I know on the subject — and it exhausts i 
 — is half a dozen lines in * Robinson Crusoe.' " 
 
 " Robinson Crusoe ! " said I. 
 
 " Certainly," he replied ; " do you not remember that 
 when he caught his man Friday, the < intuitional con- 
 sciousness ' — the * insight ' — the * inward revelation ' 
 of that worthy savage not being found quite so perfect 
 as Mr. Parker would fancy, Robinson proceeds to in- 
 doctrinate him in the mysteries of theology ? Friday 
 is much puzzled, as many more learned savages have 
 been before him, to find that the infinite power, wis- 
 dom, and goodness of God had made every thing very 
 good, and that good it would have continued had it 
 not been for the opposition of the Devil. * Why God 
 not kill Debbil ? ' asks poor Friday. On which says 
 Robinson, * Though I was a very old man, I found that 
 
UNSTABLE EQUILIBRIUM. 101 
 
 I was but a young doctor in divinity.' Ah ! if all doc- 
 tors in divinity had been equally candid, the treatises 
 on that dread subject would not have been quite so 
 voluminous ; for we close them all alike with the un- 
 availing question, ' Why God not kill Debbil ? ' " 
 
 Observing this tendency to gravitate towards the 
 abyss, I at last said to him, " I think, if I were you, 
 having decided that there is no religious truth to be 
 found, I should dismiss the subject from my thoughts 
 altogether. Do as the Indian did, who struggled as 
 long as he could to right his canoe when he found he 
 was in the stream of Niagara; but, finding his efforts 
 unavailing, sat himself down with his arms folded, and /^ 
 went down the falls without stirring a muscle. Lei us 
 talk no more on the subject. Why should you perplex 
 yourself, as you apparently do, about a thing so hope- " 
 less to be found out as truth ? ' What is truth ? ' said 
 Pilate ; and, as Bacon says, * he would not wait for 
 an answer.' It was a question to which, most proba- 
 bly, he, like you, thought no answer could be given. 
 If I were you, I should do the same. Why perplex 
 yourself to no purpose ? " 
 
 " I should answer," said he, " as Solon did when^ 
 asked why he grieved for his son, seeing all grief was 
 unavailing. * It is for that very reason that I grieve,' 
 was the reply. And in like manner I dwell on the 
 impossibility of discovering truth because it is impos- 
 sible." 
 
 I acknowledged that it was a sufficient reason, and 
 that it went to account in some degree for a fact I 
 had remarked in the few sceptics I had come across, — 
 genuine or otherwise, — that they seemed less capable 
 of reposing in their professed convictions than any one 
 else : it is of no avail, they say, to reason on such sub- 
 jects; and yet they are perpetually reasoning! They 
 
 9» 
 
102 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 will neither rest themselves nor let any one else rest. 
 He confessed it, and said, " The state of mind is very- 
 much as you have described it ; and you have described 
 it so exactly, that I almost think you, my dear uncle, 
 must know the heart of a sceptic, and have been one 
 yourself some time or other ! " 
 
 We wound up the morning, which was beautiful, by 
 taking a ride, in the course of which I was amused 
 with an instance of the sensitiveness with which Har- 
 rington's cultivated mind recoiled from the grossness of 
 vulgar and ignorant infidelity. We called at the cot- 
 tage of a little farmer, a tenant of his, somewhat noto- 
 rious both for profanity and sensuality. Presuming, 
 I suppose, on his young landlord's suspected hetero- 
 doxy, and thinking, perhaps, to curry favor with him, 
 he ventured (I know not what led to it) to indulge in 
 some stupid joke about the legion and the herd of 
 swine. " Sir," said he, scratching his head, " the Devil, 
 I reckon, must have been a more clever fellow than I 
 thought, to make two thousand hogs go down a steep 
 place into the sea ; it is hard enough even to make 
 them go where they will^ and almost impossible to 
 make them go where they won't." 
 
 " The Devil, my good friend," said Harrington, very 
 gravely, " is a very clever fellow ; and I hope you do 
 not for a moment intend to compare yourself with him. 
 As to the supposed miracle, it would, no doubt, be 
 hard to say which were most to be pitied, the devils in 
 the swine, or the swine with the devils in them ; but 
 has it never struck you that the whole may be an alle- 
 gorical representation of the miserable and destructive 
 effects of the union of the two vices of sensuality and 
 profanity ? They also (if all tales be true) lead to a 
 steep place, but I have never heard that it ends in the 
 water. Now," he continued, " I dare say you would 
 
103 
 
 laugh at that story which the Roman Catholics tell of 
 St. Antony ; namely, that * he preached to the pigs ' ! 
 — yet it has had a very sound allegorical interpreta- 
 tion ; we are told that it meant merely that he preached 
 to country farmers ; which, you see, is no more than I 
 have been doing." 
 
 It was one of the many things which made me a 
 sceptic as to whether he was one. " Harrington," said 
 I, " at times I find it impossible to believe that you 
 doubt the truth of Christianity." 
 
 " Suppose I were to answer, that at times I doubt 
 whether I doubt it or not, would not that be a thoroug'h 
 sceptic's answer?" I admitted that it would be in- 
 deed. 
 
 Ml/ 8. I was already in the library, writing, when 
 Hamngton came in to breakfast. " You seem busy 
 early," said he. I told him I was merely endeavoring 
 to manifest my love for his future children. 
 
 " You know," said I, " what Isocrates says, that it 
 is right that children, as they inherit the other pos- 
 sessions, should also inherit the friendships of their 
 fathers." 
 
 " My children ! " said he, very gravely ; " I shall never 
 have any." 
 
 " O, yes, you will, and then these sullen vapors of 
 doubt will roll off before the sunlight of domestic hap- 
 piness. It will allure you to love Him who has g-.veii 
 you so much to love. Yes," said I, gayly, " I shall visit 
 you one day in happier moods ; when you will wonder 
 how you could have indulged all your present thoughts 
 of God and the universe. As you gaze into the face 
 of innocent childhood, which shows you what faith in 
 God is by + ust in you, you will say, * Heaven shield 
 
104 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 the boy from being what his father has been ? ' — you 
 will feel that such thoughts as yours will not do, as 
 the world says ; and we shall all go together, you with 
 your wife on your arm, to church there in the valley, 
 in the bright sun and deep quiet of a Sabbath morn- 
 ing, and amidst the music of the Sabbath bells; and 
 as the tranquil scene steals into your very soul, you 
 will say, ' No, scepticism was not made for man.' " 
 
 " It is a pleasant romance," he replied, gloomily, 
 " and nothing more. I shall never love, and shall there- 
 fore never wed ; though, I suppose, that does not logi- 
 cally follow. However, it does with me ; and, conse- 
 quently, I presume the children are also only in posse* 
 However, what is this instance of your kindness to 
 my possible children ? " he added, more cheerfully. 
 
 " I was endeavoring,", said I, " on the bare possibil- 
 ity of your retaining as a father all the feelings you 
 seem to entertain at present, to compile for your chil- 
 dren (as they must be taught something, and you 
 would wish them, as you say, to know the truth) a 
 short catechism. I think the questions in Watts's First 
 Catechism might do for the poor little souls. The an- 
 swers (as usual) might not be wholly intelligible till 
 they got older, but still might awaken some notion 
 which in time might ripen into confirmed scepticism." 
 
 " Well," said he, laughing, " let me hear what sort of 
 ' religious ' instruction you have provided." 
 
 " I had only finished one question," I replied, " when 
 you came in : but I almost think it may be considered 
 a * Summa Theologise' of itself. It is this : — 
 /^ " * Can you tell me, child, who made you ? ' 
 / " * I cannot, certainly, tell who made me ; neither 
 can my father; but from the continual misery, confu- 
 sion, and doubt which I feel in myself and see around 
 me,' — here the little pupil is to be cautioned not to 
 
SOME LIGHT ON THE MYSTERY. 105 
 
 laugh ; the mirth in the eye^ perhaps, cannot be extin- 
 guished, — ' I am led to doubt whether I was made by- 
 one who cares for me or takes any interest in me.' 
 ( Good child.Y' 
 
 A-s I looked up, after reading this ^rs^i^rM^A of scep- 
 tical theology, I observed in Harrington's face some- 
 thing of the same look of sorrow which I had noted the 
 day before. Suddenly he said, as if to prevent any 
 chance recurrence to painful topics : — 
 
 " I very gradually became a doubter. I was perhaps 
 becoming so when, two years ago, I became an idolater, 
 and my idol crumbled to pieces at my feet. That tran- 
 sient vision of the beautiful half reclaimed me from my 
 doubts ; the darkness of the succeeding night taught 
 me juster views of the miseries of man and the incom- 
 prehensible riddle of his existence ; and I half blushed 
 at my glimpse of selfish happiness." 
 
 So saying, he suddenly left the room. Some part of 
 the mystery I felt was unravelled. Alas! the logic of 
 the head, — how fatally fortified by the logic of the 
 heart! And so, thought I to myself, even Harrington 
 too is in part the dupe of that cunning spirit of delusion 
 which in various forms is resolved to cast God and a 
 Redeemer and Immortality out of the universe, in com- 
 pliment to man's wonderful elevation, purity, unselfish- 
 ness, and philanthropy! One man tells me, with Shaftes- 
 bury, that he does not want any "immortal hopes," 
 or any such " bribes " of " prudence " to make him vir- 
 tuous or religious, — delicate, noble-minded creature ! — 
 that he can serve and love God equally well, though he 
 were sure of being annihilated to-morrow morning! 
 Another declares that he would not accept heaven itself 
 Jf purchased by a single pang, voluntary or involuntary, 
 endured by any other being in God's universe ? Anoth- 
 er swears that such is hife sympathetic benevolence, that 
 
106 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 he " would not accept that same heaven if he thought 
 any other being was to be shut out of it"; I wonder 
 whether he condescends to accept any blessing now^ 
 while a single fellow-creature remains destitute of it? 
 A fourth (a lady too) declares " there is no theory of a 
 God, of an author of nature, of an origin of the universe, 
 which is not utterly repugnant to her faculties, which is 
 not (to her feelings) so irreverent as to make her blush, 
 so misleading as to make her mourn "; and now Har- 
 rington, instead of being thankful for his glimpse of 
 happiness, and yielding to the better instincts and con- 
 victions it partly awakened, and learning patience, sub- 
 mission, and faith under his shattered hopes, is taken 
 captive on the same weak side ; and (all unconscious 
 that he shares in the prophet's feeling, " I do well to 
 be angry") fancies that "his present gloom is more truly 
 in unison with the condition of the universe, and that 
 he is bound to be most philanthropically misanthropical. 
 O, well does the Book say of this heart of ours, 
 " Deceitful above all things " ! Such are our min- 
 gled follies and wickedness, so ludicrous, so sorrowful, 
 are the features presented in this great tragi-coraedy, 
 — The life of Man, — that it is impossible to play 
 consistently either Democritus or Heraclitus. 
 
 July 9. Mr. Fellowes returned this morning. We had 
 a very pleasant day, — theology being excluded. In 
 the evening my companions were again pleased to dis- 
 turb my occupations ; but it was only a short skirmish. 
 Fellowes was endeavoring to enlighten his friend re- 
 specting the mysteries of "belief" and "faith," as 
 expounded by some of his favorite writers: he con- 
 tended, (making that sheer separation between "the 
 intellectual" and "spiritual/* which so many of the 
 
BELIEF AND FAITH. 107 
 
 spiritual school affect,) not only that there may be cor- 
 rect belief without true faith, which, in an intelligible 
 sense, few will deny ; but that there may be a true 
 faith with a false belief, or even with none, in the strict 
 sense of the word. Referring to a recent acute writer 
 in one of our religious periodicals, he argued that be- 
 lief is properly an intellectual process, founded on a 
 presumed preponderance of reasons or supposed reasons, 
 for it ; and that whether those reasons amount to dem- 
 onstration, or whether the scale be turned by a grain, 
 matters not ; the product is purely logical, and has no 
 more to do with " faith " than a " belief" in any prop- 
 osition of Euclid. 
 
 "But, at all events^" he proceeded, " whether you 
 choose to call some of these acts of reason by the name 
 of belief or not, faith is something quite independent of 
 it. As Mr. Newmati says, in his ' Phases,' * Belief is 
 one thing and faith another ' : * belief is purely intellect- 
 ual; faith is properly spiritual.' * Nowhere from any 
 body of priests, clergy, or ministers, as an order, is re- 
 ligious progress to be anticipated till intellectual creeds 
 are destroyed,^ See, too, how tenderly he speaks even 
 of atheism. ' I do not know,' he says, ' how to avoid 
 calling this a moral error ; but I must carefully guard 
 against seeming to overlook that it may still be a merely 
 speculative error, which ought not to separate our hearts 
 from any man.' Similarly he charitably restricts ' idol- 
 atry ' in any * bad sense ' to a voluntary worshipping of 
 what the worshipper feels not to deserve his adoration ; 
 and as I, for one, doubt whether this is ever the case, 
 this delightful charity is comprehensive indeed. Mr. 
 Parker's discourse is full of the same beautiful and tol- 
 erant maxims. * Each religious doctrine,' he says, ' has 
 
 some time stood for a truth Each of these forms 
 
 of religion (polytheism and fetichism, to wit) did the 
 
108 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 I world service in its day.' No one form of religion u 
 ^ absolutely true; faith may be compatible with them all." 
 
 " Let me understand you, if possible," said Har- 
 rington ; " for at present I fear I do not. That there 
 may be belief without faith in a very intelligible sense, 
 I can understand. You say there can be faith without 
 \ \ belief, and a true faith that is connected with any be- 
 lief, however erroneous, do you not ? " 
 
 " Provided it contains the absolute religion." 
 
 " Well, and even the lowest fetichism does that, ac- 
 cording to Mr. Parker, whom you defend. Now this 
 Protean /ai7A is what I do not understand." 
 
 " That," said Fellowes, " I can easily conceive ; and, 
 let me add, no sceptic can understand it." 
 
 " I see no reason why he should wo^," said Harring- 
 ton, laughing, " if, as you and Mr. Newman suppose, 
 the < spiritual ' can be so perfectly divorced from the 
 * intellectual.' According to your reasoning, the atheist 
 and the idolater cannot be incapable of exercising this 
 mysterious * faith,' — when their errors are supposed 
 purely speculative, — since faith has nothing to do with 
 the intellect ; neither therefore ought the sceptic to be 
 quite beyond the pale of your charity. Nay, his in- 
 tellect being a rasa tabula in these matters, I should 
 think he is in more favorable circumstances than they 
 can be. But, seriously, let me try, if possible, to fath- 
 om this curious dogma, — I beg your pardon, — senti- 
 ment, I mean. Belief without faith in an intelligible 
 sense (if by this last we mean a condition of the emo- 
 tions or affections), I can understand; though if the 
 truth believed be of a nature to excite to emotion and 
 to dictate action, and fail to do so, I doubt whether men 
 in general would not call that belief spurious. For ex- 
 ample, if a man, on being told that his house was on 
 fire, sat still in his neighbor's chimney-corner, and took 
 
BELIEF AND FAITH. 109 
 
 no notice of the matter, most persons would say that 
 his assent was no true beliefs for it did not produce its 
 effects^ did not produce faith. But whether faith can 
 ever exist independently of belief — whether it is not 
 always involved with it, — and whether there can be a 
 faith worth a farthing that is not based on a true belief, / 
 — that is the point on which I want light. If I under- / 
 stand you, an acceptable faith may or may not coexist! 
 with a true belief; and men who believe in Jupiter or\ 
 Jehovah, in one God or a thousand, who worship the \ 
 sun, or an idol, or a cat, or a monkey, all may have an ' 
 equally acceptable faith." 
 
 « I affirm it." 
 
 " That as there maybe belief in a truth,without faith, 
 so there may be faith, though the intellect believes in a 
 falsehood ; — that faith j in fact, is independent of knowl- 
 edge^ or of any particular condition of the intellect ? " 
 
 " I do not like the terms in which you express the 
 sentiment, but I, for one, believe it substantially cor- 
 rect." 
 
 " Never mind the form ; I am quite willing to em- 
 ploy other terms, if you will supply them." 
 
 " Well, then," said Fellowes, " I should say, with Mr. 
 Parker, that the principle of true faith may be found to 
 coexist with the grossest and most hideous misconcep- 
 tions of God, while the absence of it may coexist with 
 the truest and most elevated belief." 
 
 " That, I think, comes to much the same as I said. 
 Now about the latter we have no dispute. It is the 
 former that I want light upon : the latter only shows 
 that a belief, which ought to be practical, and if not 
 practical is nothing, is but a species of hypocrisy ; and, 
 of course, I have nothing to say for it. My uncle here, 
 who is still one of the orthodox, who believes that an 
 * acceptable faith ' and a belief in the divinity of a mon- 
 
 10 
 
110 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 key or a cat are somehow quite incompatible, would be 
 among the first to acknowledge the latter position. He 
 would say, * No doubt there has often been such a 
 thing as " dead orthodoxy," — a creed of the " letter," — 
 a religion exclusively dependent on logic, and having 
 nothing to do with the feelings; — belief that is not 
 sublimated into faith ; — a system of arteries and veins 
 infiltrated with some colored substance, like the speci- 
 mens in an anatomical museum, but in which none of 
 the lifeblood of religion circulates. But surely,' he 
 would say, * it does not follow, that, because there has 
 been belief without faith, there is or can be any faith 
 independent of some belief, or an acceptable faith with- 
 out a true belief.' " 
 
 " I affirm," said Fellowes, "that * faith' has nothing 
 to do with the intellect^but is a state of the affections 
 exclusively. I affirm, with a recent acute writer, that 
 there is, properly speaking, no belief at all that is dis- 
 tinguishable from reaso7U For what is meant by belief 
 of a proposition, but the receiving that proposition as 
 true upon evidence, from a supposed preponderance of 
 reasons in its favor? Now, whether that preponder- 
 ance be a ton weight or a single grain, down goes the 
 balance, and reason as strictly decides that it is to be 
 received as if it were a mathematical demonstration. 
 If the arguments, whether abstract or otherwise, abso- 
 lutely demonstrative or only probable, are supposed to 
 be exactly balanced, there is no reason for deciding in 
 favor of one side more than the other ; and there is, there- 
 fore, no belief, for the very reason that reason cannot 
 be exercised." 
 
 " Very well indeed," said Harrington, " so far as it 
 goes ; but I forthwith see, that, so far from deriving any 
 benefit from this ingenious reasoning, there is no such 
 thing as either faith or belief: belief and faith have both 
 
BELIEF AND FAITH. Ill 
 
 vanished at the same time ; the first is resolved into 
 reason, and the second becomes impossible." 
 
 " Belief may," said Fellowes, " but faith never. Its 
 divine beauty is all the brighter, when happily divorced 
 from logic and syllogisms, its misalliance with which 
 can only be compared to that cruel punishment by 
 which the living was chained to the dead. Say what 
 you will, it still reigns and triumphs in the soul in spite 
 of aU." 
 
 "I am perfectly convinced," said Harrington, "that 
 the modern spiritualist will not bring his ' faith ' into 
 any ignominious slavery to intellect or syllogism. But 
 clear up my doubts if you can. I know that the writers 
 you are fond of quoting very generally give an illustra- 
 tion of the nature of faith by pointing to the ingenuous 
 trust of a child in the wisdom and kindness of a 
 parent." 
 
 " They do ; and is it not a beautiful illustration ? 
 That is genuine faith indeed!" 
 
 " I am willing to take the illustration. The child 
 has faith, we see, in his father's superior wisdom and 
 experienced kindness." 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " He believes them, therefore." 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 " But belief is reason^ 
 
 " Certainly ; but f^ith is more than that." 
 
 " No doubt ; but he does believe these things." 
 
 " Yes, certainly." 
 
 " And if he did not believe them, he would cease to 
 have faith. If, for instance, he be convinced that his 
 father is mad, or cruel, or unjust, the state of affec- 
 tions which you call faith will diminish, and at last 
 cease." 
 
 " Perhaps so," said Fellowes. 
 
112 THE^ OBCLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 " Perhaps so, my friend ! I really cannot receive 
 your answer, because I am convinced that it does not 
 express your sentiments." 
 
 " Weil, I believe that the state of affection which we 
 call * faith ' would be impossible under such circum- 
 stances." 
 
 " But belief is reason,^^ 
 
 « Yes." 
 
 " Must we not say, then, that the child's faith 
 depends on the condition of his belief, that is, on his 
 reason, so that the ' faith ' is possible when he believes, 
 and so long as he believes, that his father is wise and 
 kind, but is impossible when he believes, and as soon as 
 he believes, the contrary ? " 
 
 « Yes, I admit thaV 
 
 "It appears, then, that faith in this, — perhaps the 
 best illustration that could be selected, — so far from 
 being a state of the affections exclusive of the intellect, 
 is not exclusive of it, but absolutely dependent on it, 
 inasmuch as it is absolutely dependent on belief, and 
 that is dependent on reason. It exists in connection 
 with it, and is never independent of it. If the contrary 
 be affirmed, I doubt whether there can be any such 
 thing as ' faith ' in the world. Belief becomes reason, 
 and faith, having nothing, you say, to do with the 
 intellect, becomes impossible. But now let it be sup- 
 posed (as, indeed, I cannot but suppose) that so7ne 
 belief, that is, reason, enlightened or not (generally the 
 last), is involved in every act of faith ; you yet affirm 
 most distinctly that it is a state of the affections quite 
 unconnected with the truth or falsehood of any intel- 
 lectual propositions." 
 
 " I do." 
 
 " It ought to follow, then, that it matters not what is 
 the object of belief, provided there is ' faith ' ; and this, 
 
BELIEF AND FAITH. 113 
 
 if you observe^ is very much what the language of 
 Mr. Newman would imply, while it is the very essence 
 of Mr. Parker's teaching." 
 
 " You mean Father Newman, perhaps ? " 
 
 " Why no, I did not ; but, to tell you the truth, I 
 now mean either ; there not appearing to me much dif- 
 ference between them in this respect. Whether you 
 worship an image of a ' winking virgin,' or, according to 
 the other Dromio, the ' ideal' of an idolater, — whether 
 (provided always it be with sincerity and trust !) you 
 adore the Jehovah of the Hebrews, or * the image 
 which fell down from Jupiter,' ought to make, upon 
 this theory, no great difference." 
 
 " W^:ll, in whatever difficulty the controversy may 
 involve us, can we deny this conclusion ? " 
 
 " Truly," replied Harrington, " I think it does not 
 involve me in any difficulty ; it shows me that, if this be 
 the * faith ' to which you attach so much importance, it 
 really is not worth the powder and shot that must be 
 expended in the controversy. For my own part, I do 
 not hesitate to say that I would rather be absolutely 
 destitute of ' faith ' altogether, than exercise the most 
 absolute faith ever bestowed upon a tawdry ii^iage of 
 the Virgin, or some misshapen beast of an idol of Hin- 
 doo or Hottentot workmanship." 
 
 " Ah ! my friend," cried Fellowes, " do not thus blas- 
 pheme the most holy feelings of humanity, ho\\/ever 
 misapplied! " 
 
 *• I do not conceive that I do, in declaring abhorrence 
 and contempt of such perversions of ' sentiment,' however 
 * holy ' you may call them. Hideous as they are, how- 
 ever, they are less hideous than the half-length apologies 
 for them on the part of cultivated and civilized human 
 beings, like our ' spiritual ' infidels. Your tenderness is 
 ludicrously mi splaced. I wonder whether the same 
 
 10* 
 
114 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 apology would extend to those exercises of simple- 
 minded ' faith ' in which it is said that the Spanish 
 and Portuguese pirates sometimes indulged, when they 
 implored the benediction of their saints on their preda- 
 tory expeditions ! And yet I see not how it could be 
 avoided ; for the exorbitancies of these pirates were not 
 more hateful to humanity than are the rites practised, 
 and the duties enjoined, by many forms of religion. 
 What delightful, ingenuous ' faith ' and genuine ' sim- 
 plicity ' of mind did these pirates manifest ! " 
 
 " How can you talk so, when we make it a mark of a 
 false revelation, that it contradicts any intuition of our 
 moral nature ? " 
 
 " Then cease to talk of your * absolute religion,' as ca- 
 pable in any way of consecrating the hateful forms of 
 false and cruel superstition for which you and Mr. Par- 
 ker condescend to be the apologists. The fanaticism of 
 such pious and devout beasts as those saint-loving pi- 
 rates is not a more flagrant violation of the principles of 
 morality, than the acts which flow directly as the imme- 
 diate and natural expression of the infinitely varied but 
 all-polluting forms of idolatry with which you are pleased 
 to identify your ' absolute religion,' and in all of which 
 you suppose an acceptable * faith ' to be very possible. 
 You see how Mr. Parker extends the apology to the 
 foulest acts of his Tartar and Calmuck scoundrels ; acts 
 called murders in the codes of Christendom and civiliza- 
 tion, but varnished over by the beautiful ' faith ' which 
 somehow still lurks under the most frightful practices 
 of a simple-minded barbarian. If this faith will shelter 
 the abominations of a gross idolatry, I see not what else 
 it may not sanctify. — But, in fact, neither in the case 
 of idolaters, nor any other religionists, is it true that 
 * faith ' is independent of * belief ' ; in the case of your 
 Calmuck, for example, the * belief ' is vile, and there- 
 
 
 iv^V 
 
 i 
 
 <^\ <<-uUv '.[ -J — r^jO uy>JM(^»^ 
 
BELIEF AND FAITH. 115 
 
 fore Ihe * faith ' vile too ; faith practical enough, cer- ) 
 tainly, but one that as certainly does not 'work by 1 
 love ' ; and which, I think, would be well exchanged for J 
 a dead orthodoxy, or any thing else." 
 
 It is not difficult to see the source of the fallacy into 
 which Mr. Fellowes had fallen. It lies in the attempt to 
 make a distinction m fact^ as well as in theory^ between 
 the "intellectual" and "emotional" parts of our nature. 
 It is very well for the spiritual and mental analyst to 
 consider separately the several principles which con- 
 stitute humanity, and which act, and react, and inter- 
 act, in endless involution. That there may be acts of 
 belief that terminate chiefly in the intellect, and may 
 be wholly worthless, who denies? The drunkard, for 
 example, may admit that sobriety is a duty ; but yet, if 
 he gets drunk every night of his life, we shall, of course, 
 think little of that act of belief, — of his daily repetition 
 of moral orthodoxy. In the same manner, a man may 
 admit that it is his duty to exercise implicit love, grati- 
 tude, and obedience towards the great object of wor- 
 ship ; but if his habitual conduct shows that he has no 
 thought of acting' in accordance with this maxim, he 
 must be regarded, in spite of the orthodoxy of his spec- 
 ulative creed, as no better than a heathen ; or worse. 
 
 But though it is very possible that a true belief may 
 not involve true faith, does the converse follow, — that 
 therefore true faith is essentially different from it, and 
 independent of it? All history shows, that when re- 
 hgion is practical at all, — that is, issues in faith, — 
 such faith is as the truth or falsehood believed; the 
 emotional and active conditions of the soul are colored, 
 as usual, by knowledge and intellect. These, again, are 
 not independent of the will and the affections, as we 
 all familiarly know. And hence the fallacy of suppos- 
 
116 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 ing that no man- is to be thought better or worse for his 
 " intellectual creed." His " creed " may be his " crime " ; 
 and surely none ought to see this more clearly than 
 the writers who deny it; for why their eternal invec- 
 tives against "dogmas," — and especially the tolerably 
 universal dogma that men are responsible for the for- 
 mation of their opinions, — except upon the suppo- 
 sition that men are responsible for framing and main- 
 taining them? If they are not, men should be left 
 alone; if they are, they are to be thought of as "worse 
 and better " for their " intellectual creed." 
 
 Before the conclusion of the conversation, Mr. Fel- 
 lowes asked me for my opinion. 
 
 " If," said I, " faith be defined independent of an act 
 of intellect, then I think, with our sceptical friend here, 
 there can be no such thing at all. For I neither know 
 nor can conceive of any such unreasonable exercise of 
 the emotions or affections. If it be meant, on the other 
 j hand, that, though some act of the intellect be indeed 
 ' uniformly involved, yet that it matters not what it is, 
 and that faith does not take its complexion, as of moral 
 value, from it, then I also think, with Harrington, that 
 it is impossible to deny that such a doctrine will sanc- 
 tify any sort of worship, and any sort of deity, provided 
 jmen be sincere ; are you prepared to contend for so 
 much?" 
 
 Mr. Fellowes put an adroit objection here. " Why," 
 said he, " you will not deny, surely, that even Scripture 
 often commends, as good, a faith which is founded on 
 a very imperfect conception of the spiritual realities to 
 which it is directed ? " 
 
 " It is ingeniously put, I admit. I grant that there 
 are here, as in so many other cases, limits which, 
 though it may not be very easy to assign them, as 
 plainly exis»t. But that does not answer my question 
 
BELIEF AND FAITH. 117 
 
 I want to know whether the principle is to be applied 
 without limits at all, as your speculative theory de- 
 mands? In other words, will it or not sanctify acts 
 of the most degrading and pernicious idolatry, of the 
 most debasing superstition, because allied to that state 
 of the affections in which you make the essence of faith 
 consist? If it will not, then your objection to me is 
 nothing; it merely asks me to assign limits within 
 which the exercise of the affection in question may be 
 acceptable, or almost equally acceptable, in cases of a 
 partially enlightened understanding. If it will, then it 
 leaves you open, as I conceive, and fairly open, to all 
 the objections which have been so brusquely urged 
 against you by your friend, in whose indignant protest 
 against the detestable apologies for the lowest forms 
 of religious degradation, in which so many * spiritual ' 
 writers indulge, I for one heartily sympathize." 
 
 I ventured to add, that the account of "faith" as a 
 state of the emotions exclusively, given by some of his 
 favorite writers, is perfectly arbitrary. " Belief," say 
 they, "is wholly intellectual: faith is wholly moral." 
 Now it would be of very little consequence, if the 
 terms be generally so understood, whether they be so 
 used or not; men would, in that case, suppose that 
 faith, thus restricted, implies a previous process of mind 
 which is to be called exclusively belief, I added, how 
 ever, that I did not believe that the word faith was ever 
 thus understood in popular use ; but that, on the con- 
 trary, lb was employed to imply belief founded on 
 knowledge, or supposed knowledge, and, where the be- 
 lief was, in its very nature, practical, or involved emo- 
 tion, a conduct and a state of the affecUons correspond- 
 ing thereto. "But this," said I, "merely respects the 
 popular use of the words, and it is hardly worth while 
 to prolong discussion on it. As to the reasoning which 
 would show that belief does not properly exist at all, 
 
118 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 because it may be all resolved into reason^ founded on 
 the preponderance of evidence, where it does not matter 
 whether that preponderance be a ton or a scruple, — 
 surely it is over-refined. Men will always feel that 
 there is a marked difference between the states of mind 
 in which they assent to a proposition of which they 
 have no more doubt than they have of their own exist- 
 ence, or to a proposition in the mathematics, and to 
 one in which they feel that only a few grains turn the 
 scale. Ta this conscious difference in the condition of 
 mind, they have given (and I suppose will continue to 
 give) very different names ; and though they will not 
 say that they believe that two and two make four, but 
 that they knoio it, they will say that they believe that 
 they will die before the end of the century, though they 
 will not say that they knoiv that. The distinction be- 
 tween the certain and the probable is felt to be far too 
 important not to be marked by corresponding varieties 
 of speech ; and speech has made them accordingly." 
 
 July 10. This morning Harrington fulfilled his prom- 
 ise of acquainting me with a few of the principal reasons 
 which prevented his taking refuge in the " half-way 
 houses " between the Bible and Religious Scepticism. 
 Mr. Fellowes was an attentive listener. Harrington 
 had entitled his paper, — 
 
 Reasons for declining the Via Media between 
 Revealed Religion and Atheism, — or Scepti- 
 cism; with special Reference to the Theories 
 OP Mr. Theodore Parker and Mr. Francis New- 
 man. 
 
 I shall be brief; not being solicitious to suggest 
 doubts to others, but merely to justify my own. 
 
THE VIA MEDIA OF DEISM. 119 
 
 Both Mr. Parker and Mr. Newman make themselves 
 very merry with a " book-revelation," as they call it ; 
 and if they had given me any thing better, — more 
 rational or more certain than the Bible, — how gladly 
 could I have joined in the ridicule ! As it is, I doubt 
 the solidity of the theories they support, and hardly 
 doubt that, if the principles on which they reject the 
 Bible be sound, they ought to go much farther. Both 
 affirm the absurdity_ of. ja. special external revelation to 
 man ; both, that the fountain of spiritual illumination is 
 exclusively from ivithin, and not from jwithout. A few 
 brief citations will set this point in a clear light. " Re- 
 ligion itself," says Mr. Parker, " must be the same thing 
 in each man; not a siviilar thing, but just the same; 
 differing only in degree." * " The Idea of God, as a fact 
 given in man's nature, is permanent and alike in all ; 
 while the sentiment of God, though vague and myste- 
 rious, is always the same in itself." f " Of course, then, 
 there is no difference but of words between revealed 
 Religion and natural Religion ; for all actual Religion 
 is revealed in us, or it could not be felt." J The Abso- 
 lute Religion, which he affirms to be universally known, 
 he defines as " Voluntary Obedience to the Law of God, 
 — inward and outward Obedience to that law he has 
 written on our nature, revealed in various ways through 
 Instinct, Reason, Conscience, and the Religious Senti- 
 ment." § Similarly, Mr. Newman says, ^^What God 
 reveals to us he reveals within, through the medium of 
 our moral and spiritual senses." || " Christianity itself 
 has practically confessed, what is theoretically clear," 
 — you must take his word for both, • >- " that an authori- 
 tative external revelation of moral and spiritual truth 
 
 * Discourses of Matters pertaining to Keligion, p. 36. 
 
 tibid. p. 21. JIbid. p. 33. 
 
 § Ibid. p. 34. 11 Soul, p. 59. 
 
120 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 is essentially impossible to man." * " No book-revela 
 tion can (without sapping its own pedestal) authorita 
 tively dictate laws of human virtue, or alter our a pri- 
 ori view of the Divine character." f 
 
 " Happy race of men, one is ready to exclaim, with 
 this Idea of God, one and the same in all ; this " Abso- 
 lute Religion," which is also "universal"; this internal 
 revelation, which supersedes, by anticipating, all possible 
 disclosures of an external revelation, and renders it an 
 "impertinence." Men in all ages and nations must 
 exhibit a delightful unanimity in their religious notions, 
 sentiments, and practices ! 
 
 They would do so, cries Mr. Parker ; but unhappily, 
 though the "idea" of God is "one and the same, and 
 perfect" in all "when the proper conditions " are com- 
 plied with, yet practically^ in the majority of cases, 
 these proper "conditions are not observed"; J "the 
 conception, which men universally form of God, is 
 always imperfect, sometimes self-contradictory and im- 
 possible"; "the primitive simplicity and beauty" of 
 the " idea " are lost. And thus it is, he tells us, that, 
 owing to this awkward " conception," the vast majority 
 of the human race have been, and are, and for ages will 
 be, sunk in the grossest Fetichism, — Polytheism, — and 
 every form of absurd and misshapen Monotheism; — 
 the horrors of all which he proceeds faithfully, but not 
 too faithfully, to describe, and sometimes, when he is 
 in the mood, to soften and extenuate ; in order that he 
 may find that the " grim Calmuck," and even the sav- 
 age, " whose hands are smeared over with the blood of 
 human sacrifices," are yet in possession of the " abso- 
 lute Idea" and the "absolute religion." 
 
 And what must we infer from Mr. Newman ? The 
 
 * Soul, p. 59. t Ibid. p. 58. % Discourses, p. 19. 
 
THE VIA MEDIA OF DEISM. ^J||t|> 
 
 unanimity anticipated would, doubtless, be obtained, 
 only til atj -unfortunately, there are various principles pf 
 man's nature which traverse the legitimate action and 
 impede the due development of the " spiritual faculty " ; 
 and so man is apt to wander into a variety of those 
 " degraded types " of religious development, which the 
 dark panorama of this world's religions has ever pre- 
 sented to us, and presents still. " Awe," " wonder," 
 " admiration," " sense of order," " sense of design,'^ 
 may all mislead the unhappy " spiritual faculty " into 
 quagmires ; and, in point of fact, have wheedled and 
 corrupted it ten thousand times more frequently than 
 it has hallowed tlie7n. This all history, past and present, 
 shows. 
 
 It is certainly unfortunate, and as mysterious, that 
 those unlucky " conceptions " of God should have the 
 best of it, — or rather, that the ^Hdea^^ of God should 
 have the worst of it ; nor less so that Awe, E-everence, 
 and so forth, should thus put the " spiritual faculty " so 
 hopelessly hors de combat. 
 
 Nevertheless, two questions naturally suggest them- 
 selves. Since the destructive " conceptions " have al- 
 most everywhere impaired the " Idea," and the " de- 
 graded types " seduced the " spiritual faculty," — 1st. 
 What proof have we that man has an original and 
 universal fountain of spiritual illumination in himself? 
 and 2dly. If he have, but under such circumstances, is 
 its utility so unquestionable that no space is left for the 
 offices of an external revelation ? 
 
 First. What is the evidence of the uniform exist- 
 ence in man of any such definite faculty ? 
 
 When we say that any principle or faculty is com- 
 mon to the whole species, do we not make the proof 
 of this depend upon the uniformity of the phenomena 
 which exhibit it? When we say, for example, that 
 11 
 
122 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 hunger and thirst are universal appetites, is it not be- 
 cause we find them universal ? or if we say that the 
 senses of sight and hearing are characteristic of the 
 race, do we not contend that these are so, because we 
 find them uniform in such an immense variety of in- 
 stances, that the exceptions are not worth reckoning ? 
 If men sometimes saw black where others saw white, 
 some objects rectilinear which others saw curved, some 
 objects small which others saw large, — nay, the very 
 same men at different times seeing the same objects 
 differently colored, and of varying forms and magni- 
 tudes, and every second man almost stone-blind into the 
 bargain, — I rather think, that, instead of saying that all 
 men were endowed with one and the . same power of 
 vision, we should say that our nature exhibited only an 
 imperfect and rudimentary tendency towards so desira- 
 ble a faculty ; but that a clear, uniform, well-defined 
 faculty of vision there certainly was not. As I gaze 
 upon the spectacle of the infinite diversities of religion, 
 which variegate, but, alas! do not beautify the world, 
 what is there to remind me of that uniformity of result, 
 of which I do see the indelible traces in every faculty 
 really characteristic of our nature; as, for example, in 
 our senses and our appetites ? Powerfully does Hume 
 urge this argument in his " Natural History of Relig- 
 ions." * 
 
 I have my doubts — admire the modesty of a sceptic 
 — whether the entire phenomena of religion do not 
 favor the conclusion, that man, in this respect, exhibits 
 only the traces of an imperfect, truncated creature ; that 
 he is in the predicament of the half-created lion so 
 graphically described by Milton : — 
 
 " Now half appeared 
 The tawny lion, pawing to get free 
 His hinder parts"; 
 
 • Introduction. 
 
. THE VIA MEDIA OF DEISM. 123 
 
 only, unfortunately, man^s " hinder parts " — his lower 
 nature — have come up first, and appear, unhappily, 
 prominent ; while his nobler " moral and spiritual fac- 
 ulties " still seem stuck in the dust ! 
 
 There is, indeed, another hypothesis, which squares, 
 perhaps, equally well with the phenomena, — I mean 
 that of the Bible; — that man is not in his original 
 state ; that the religious constitution of his nature, in 
 some way or other, has received a shock. But either 
 this, or the supposition that man has been insufficiently 
 equipped for the uniform elimination of religious truth, 
 is, I think, alone in harmony with the facts ; and to 
 those facts, patent on the page of the whole world's 
 history, I appeal for proof that man has not, on these 
 highest subjects, the certitude of any internal revelation, 
 marked by the remotest analogy to those other un- 
 doubted principles and faculties which exhibit them- 
 selves with undeniable uniformity. 
 
 It will perhaps be said, that the spiritual phenomena 
 are not so uniform as those of sense, — as Mr. Parker 
 and Mr. Newman both abundantly admit, — but that 
 there is an approximate uniformity. And you must 
 seek it, says Mr. Parker, in the " Absolute Religion" 
 which animates every form of religion, and is equally 
 found in all. I know he chatters about this inces- 
 santly ; but when I attempt thus to " hunt the one in 
 the many," as Plato would call it, — to seek the elusive 
 unity in the infinite multiform, — to discover v/hat it is 
 which equally embalms all forms, from the Christianity 
 of Paul to the religion of the " grim Calmuck," I ac- 
 knowledge myself as much at a loss as Martinus in 
 endeavoring to catch the abstraction of a Lord Mayor ; 
 Mr. Parker, on the other hand, is like Crambe, " who, 
 to show his acuteness, swore that he could form an ab- 
 straction of a Lord Mayor, not only without his horse, 
 
124 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 gown, and gold chain, but even without stature, feature, 
 color, hands, head, feet, or any body, which he supposed 
 was the abstract of a Lord Mayor." Or if it be vain 
 to attenapt to abstract this Absolute Religion from all 
 religions, as Mr. Parker indeed admits, — though it is 
 truly in them, — and I take his definition from his 
 "direct consciousness," — which direct consciousness 
 we can see has been directly affected by his abjured 
 Bible, — namely, " that it is voluntary obedience to the 
 will of God, outward and inward," ■ — why, what on 
 earth does this vague generality do for us ? What sort 
 of God ? Is he or it one or many ? Of infinite attri- 
 butes or finite ? of goodness and mercy equal to his 
 power, or not ? What is his will ? Hovj is he to be 
 worshipped ? Have we offended him ? Is he placable 
 or not ? Is he to be approached only through a media- 
 tor of some kind, as nearly all mankind have believed, 
 but which Mr. Parker denies, — a queer proof, by the 
 way, of the clearness of the internal oracle, if he be 
 right, — or is Jae to_be approached, as Mr. Parker be- 
 lieves, and Mr. Newman with him, without any media- 
 tor at all ? Is it true that man is immortal, and knows 
 it by immediate " insight," as Mr. Parker contends, or 
 does the said " insight," as Mr. Newman believes, tell 
 us nothing about the matter ? Surely the " Absolute 
 Religion," after having removed from it all in which 
 different religions differ, is in danger of vanishing into 
 that imperfect susceptibility of some religion, which I 
 have already conceded, and which is certainly not such 
 a thing as to render an external revelation very ob- 
 viously superfluous. It may be summed up in one 
 imperfect article. All men and each may say, " I be- 
 lieve there is some being, superior in some respects to 
 man, whom it is my duty or my interest to " — ccetera 
 desunt. 
 
THE VIA MEDIA OF DEISM. 125 
 
 To affirm that every man has this " Absolute Relig- 
 ion" without external revelation, is much as if a man 
 were to say that we have an " Absolute Philosophy" 
 on the same terms, in virtue of man's having faculties 
 which prompt him to philosophize in some way. All 
 religions contain the Absolute Religion, says Mr. Par- 
 ker : Just, I reply, as all philosophies contain the abso- 
 lute philosophy. The philosophy of Plato, of Aristotle 
 of Bacon, of Locke, of Leibnitz, of Reid, are all philoso- 
 phies, no doubt ; but that is all that is to be said. Even 
 contraries must resemble one another in one point, or 
 they could not be contrasted. In truth, there is, I think, 
 a striking analogy between man's spiritual and intellec- 
 tual condition ; only his intellect is a little less variable 
 than his " spiritual faculty " ; far more so, however, than 
 his senses. His animal nature is more defined than his— 7 
 intellectual, his intellectual than his spiritual and moral. / 
 All the phenomena point either to an imperfect organi- / 
 zation of his nobler faculties, or to the doctrine of the 
 " Fall." y 
 
 But further, surely if this internal oracle exists in 
 man, every sincere and earnest soul, on interrogating his 
 consciousness, would hear the indubitable response, — 
 would enjoy the beatYfic vision of " spiritual insight." 
 If this be asserted, I for one have to say to this repre- 
 sentation, that, so far as my own consciousness informs 
 me, I have honestly, sincerely, and with utmost dili- 
 gence, interrogated my spirit ; and I solemnly protest, 
 that, apart from those external influences and that ex- 
 ternal instruction which the revelation from within is 
 supposed to anticipate and supersede, I am not con- 
 scious that I should have any of the sentiments which 
 either of these writers make the sum of religion. Even 
 as to that fundamental position, — the existence of a 
 Being of unlimited power and wisdom, (as to his un- 
 11* 
 
 *^ « r- ■'- v ^v 'xr\ 
 
126 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 limited g'oodnesSjlJ)e\\eye^^ti2.tja.Qih.ing but an external 
 revelation can absolutely certify us,) I feel that I am 
 much more indebted to those inferences from design, 
 which these writers make so light of, than to any clear- 
 ness in the imperfect intuition; for if I found — and 
 surely this is the true test — the traces of design less 
 conspicuous in the external world, confusion there, as in 
 the moral, and in both greater than is now found in 
 either, I extremely doubt whether the faintest surmise 
 of such a Being would have suggested itself to me. 
 But be that as it may ; as to their other cardinal senti- 
 ments, — the nature of my relations to this Being, — 
 his placability, if offended, — the terms of forgiveness, 
 if any, — whether, as these gentlemen affirm, he is ac- 
 cessible to all, without any atonement or mediator; — 
 as to all this, I solemnly declare, that, apart from exter- 
 nal instruction, I cannot, by interrogating my racked 
 spirit, catch ev^iiHa" murmur. That it must be faint, 
 indeed, in other men, so faint as to render the preten- 
 sions of the certitude of the internal revelation, and its 
 independence of all external revelation, perfectly pre- 
 posterous, I infer from this, — that they have, for the 
 most part, arrived at diametrically opposite conclusions 
 from those of these interpreters of the spiritual revela- 
 tion. As to the articles, indeed, of man's immortality 
 and a future state, it would be truly difficult for my 
 " spiritual insight " to verify theirs ; for, according to 
 Mr. Parker, his " insight " affirms that man is immortal, 
 and Mr. Newman's "insight" declares nothing about 
 the matter ! 
 
 Nor is my consciousness, so far as I can trace it, 
 mine only. This painful uncertainty has been the con- 
 fession of multitudes of far greater minds ; they have 
 been so far from contending that we have naturally a 
 clear utterance on these great questions, that they have 
 
THE "^lA MEDIA OF DEISM. 127 
 
 acknowledged the necessity of an external revelation ; 
 and mankind in general, so far from thinking or feeling 
 such light superfluous, have been constantly gaping' 
 after it, and adopted almost any thing that but bore the 
 name. 
 
 What, then, am I to think of this all-sufficient reve- 
 lation from within ? 
 
 There is, indeed, an amusing answer of Mr. New- 
 man's to the difficulty ; but then it formally surrenders 
 the whole argument. He says to those who say they 
 are unconscious of those facts of spiritual pathology 
 which he describes in his work on the " Soul," that the 
 consciousness of the spiritual man is not the less true, 
 that the unspiritual man is not privy to it; and this 
 most devout gentleman somewhere quotes, with much 
 unction, the words, " For the spiritual man judgeth all 
 things, but himself is judged of no man." 
 
 " I shall be curious to know," said J, interrupting 
 him, " what you will reply to that argument? " 
 
 Reply to it, said he, eagerly ; does it require any 
 reply ? — However, I will read what I have written. Is 
 it not plain, that while Mr. Newman is professedly 
 anatomizing the spiritual nature of man, as man^ — the 
 functions and revelations of that inward oracle which 
 supersedes and anticipates all external revelation, — 
 he is, in fact, anatomizing his own? What title has 
 he, when avowedly explaining the phenomena of the 
 religious faculty which he asserts to be inherent in 
 humanity, — though how they should need explaining, 
 if his theory be true, I know not, — what title has he, 
 when men deny that they are conscious of the facts he 
 describes, to take refuge in his own private revelations, 
 and that of the few whose privilege it is to be " born 
 again " by a mysterious law which he says it is impos- 
 sible for us to investigate ? " We cannot pretend," he 
 
129 fHB ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 says, "to sound the mystery whence comes the new 
 birth in certain souls. To reply, * The Spirit bloweth 
 where He listeth,' confesses the mystery, and declines 
 to explain it. But it is evident that individuals in 
 Greece, in the third century before the Christian era, 
 were already moving towards an intelligent heart- 
 worship^ or had even begun to practise it ! " * 
 
 High time, I think, that after some thousands of 
 years some few individuals should begin to manifest 
 the phenomena of the universal revelation from vjithin, 
 if such a thing be ! 
 
 This is not to delineate the religious nature of hu- 
 manity, but to reveal — yes, and to reveal externally 
 — the religious nature of the elect few, — and few 
 they are indeed, — who, by a mysterious infidel Cal- 
 vinism, are permitted to attain, by direct intuition, 
 and independent of all external revelation, the true 
 sentiments and experiences of " spiritual insight." It 
 this be Mr. Newman's solution of our difficulties, it is 
 utterly nugatory. It is not to dissect the soul, "its 
 sorrows and aspirations " ; it is merely to give us the 
 pathology — perhaps the morbid pathology — of Mr. 
 Newman's soul, its sorrows and its aspirations. If the 
 answer merely respected the practical value of a theory 
 of spiritual sentiments, which all acknowledged, then 
 Mr. Newman's answer might have some force ; for, cer- 
 tainly, only he who reduced that theory to practice, or 
 attempted to do so, would have a right to conclude 
 against the experience of him who did. But it is 
 obvious that the question afliects the theory itself^ and 
 especially the consciousness of those terms of possible 
 communion with God, those relations of the soul to 
 him, on the reception of which all the said spiritual 
 experience must depend. 
 
 • Soul, p. 64. 
 
THE VIA MEDIA OF DEISM. 129 
 
 How, then, stands the argument ? I ask how I shall 
 know the intimations of the spiritual faculty, which 
 renders all " external revelation " an impertinence ? I 
 am told, with delicious vagueness, that I must gaze on 
 the phenomena of spiritual consciousness ; I say I ex- 
 ercise earnest and sincere self-scrutiny, and that I can 
 discern nothing but shadowy forms, most of which do 
 not answer to those which these new spiritualists de- 
 scribe ; and then Mr. Newman turns round and says, 
 that the unspiritual nature cannot discern them I What 
 is this but to give up the only question of any impor- 
 tance to humanity, — which is not what are Mr. New- 
 man's spiritual phenomena ; if they are known to him- 
 self, it is well ; he has been very long in discovering 
 them, in spite of the clearness of the internal revelation ; 
 — but what are those of man? If the former be all, 
 Mr. Newman is safe indeed; he is intrenched in his 
 own peculiar consciousness, of which I am quite willing 
 to admit that all other men (as well as I) are inade- 
 quate judges. But the monograph of a solitary enthu- 
 siast is of the least possible consequence to humanity. 
 For reasons similar to those which render us incompe- 
 tent to pronounce on his experience, he is incapable of 
 judging of ours. There is only one other answer that 
 I know of, and that is the answer which Fellowes made 
 to me the other day, when you were not by : — " O, but 
 you have the same spiritual consciousness as I have, 
 only you are not aware of it ? " I contented myself 
 with saying, that I was just as able to comprehend a 
 perception which is not perceived, as a consciousness 
 which when sought was not to be found. The question 
 is one of consciousness ; you say you have it, I do not 
 deny it ; I have it not. Now, if we are not disputing 
 as to whether it be a characteristic of humanity^ it little 
 matters ; if we a.i'3, I plainly have the best of it, because 
 
130 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 want of uniformity In the phenomenon is destructive of 
 the hypothesis. 
 
 But I proceed to ask my second question. Is the 
 " absolute religion " of Mr. Parker, or the " spiritual 
 faculty " of Mr. Newman, of such singular use as to 
 supersede all external revelation, since by the unfor- 
 tunate " coifceptions " of the one, and the " degraded 
 types " of the other, it has for ages left man, and does, 
 in fact, now leave him, to wallow in the lowest depths 
 of the most debasing idolatry and superstition ; since, 
 by the confession of these very writers, the great bulk 
 of mankind have been and are hideously mal-formed, 
 in fact, spiritual cripples, and have been left to wander 
 in infinitely varied paths of error, but always paths of 
 error? — for Judaism and Christianity, though belter 
 forms, are, as well as other forms, — according to these 
 writers, — full of fables and fancies, of lying legends 
 and fantastical doctrines. Think for a moment of a 
 " spiritual faculty," so bright as to anticipate all essen- 
 tial spiritual verities, — the universal possession of hu- 
 manity, — which yet terminates in leaving the said 
 humanity to grovel in every form of error, between the 
 extremes of Fetichism, which consecrates a bit of stone, 
 and Pantheism, which consecrates all the bits of stone 
 in the universe, in fact, a sort of comprehensive Feti- 
 chism ; - — which leaves man to erect every thing into a 
 God, provided it is none, — sun, moon, stars, a cat, a 
 monkey, an onion, uncouth idols, sculptured marble j 
 nay, a shapeless trunk, — which the devout impatience 
 of the idolater does not stay to fashion into the likeness 
 of a man, but gives it its apotheosis at once ! Think of 
 the venerable, v/ide-spread empire of the infinite forms 
 of polytheism, the ancient Egyptian, Greek, Roman, 
 Chinese, and Hindoo mythologies ; and then acknowl- 
 edge, that, if man has this faculty, it is either the most 
 
THE VIA MEDIA OF DEISM. 131 
 
 idle prerogative ever bestowed on a rational creature, 
 or that, somehow or other, as the Bible affirms, it has 
 been denaturalized and disabled. If, on the other hand, 
 man has this faculty, and yet has never fallen^ it can 
 only be because he never stood; and then, no doubt, as 
 old John Bunyan hath it, " He that is down need fear 
 no fall!'' 
 
 There is an answer, indeed, but it is one which, in 
 my judgment, covers those who resort to it with the 
 deepest shame. It is that which apologizes for all these 
 abominations, — so humiliating and odious, by repre- 
 senting them as less humiliating and odious than they 
 are. It is true that Mr. Parker, when it is his cue, is 
 most eloquent in his denunciations of the infinite mis- 
 eries and degradation which have followed the exorbi- 
 tancies of the religious principle. Thus he says of su- 
 perstition (and there are other innumerable passages to a 
 similar effect), " To dismember the soul, the very image 
 of God, — to lop off the most sacred affections, — to 
 call Reason a liar. Conscience a devil's oracle, and cast 
 Love clean out from the heart, — this is the last tri- 
 umph of superstition, but one often witnessed in all the 
 three forms of Religion, Fetichism, Polytheism, Mon- 
 otheism ; in all ages before Christ, in all ages after 
 Christ." Far be it from me to deny it, or the similar 
 horrors which he liberally shows flow from fanaticism. 
 But then, at other times, that quintessence of all ab- 
 stractions which all religions alike contain — the " ab- 
 solute religion " — imparts such perfume and appetizing 
 relish to the whole composition, that, like Dominie 
 Sampson in Meg Merrilies's cuisine^ Mr. P. finds the 
 Devil's cookery-book not despicable. The things he so 
 fearfully describes are but perversions of what is essen- 
 tially good. The " form s,^ the " accidentals,'^ of differ- 
 ent religions become of little consequence ; whether it 
 
132 THE EQLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 /be Jehovah or Jupiter, the infinite Creator or a divine 
 / cat, a holy and gracious God that is loved, or an impure 
 V demon that is feared, — all this is secondary, provided 
 jthe principles Of faith^ simplicity^ and earnestness — 
 'that is, blind credulity and idiotic stupidity — inspire 
 the wretched votary ; as if the perversions he deplores 
 and condemns were not the necessary consequences of 
 such religions themselves, or, rather, as if they were 
 aught but the religions ! In virtue of the " absolute re- 
 ligion," " many a savage smeared with human sacri- 
 fice," and the Christian martyr perishing with a prayer 
 for his persecutors, are hastening together to the celes- 
 tial banquet. I hope the " savage " will not go with 
 "unwashen hands," I trust he may be Pharisee enough 
 for that ; I also hope the two will not sit next one an- 
 other ; otherwise the savage may be tempted to offer up 
 a second sacrifice, and the Christian martyr be a martyr 
 a second time. Hear him : — " He that worships truly^ 
 rby whatever form," — ^that is, who is sincere in his Feti- 
 chism, his idolatry, his sacrifices, though they may be 
 luman, — "worships the only God; he hears the pray- 
 er, whether called Brahma, Pan, or Lord, or called by 
 no name at all. Each people has its prophets and its 
 saints ; and many a swarthy Indian who bowed down 
 to wood and stone, — many a grim-faced Calmuck, who 
 worshipped the great God of Storms, — many a Gre- 
 cian peasant who did homage to Phoebus Apollo when 
 the sun rose or went down, — yes, many a savage, his 
 hands smeared all over with human sacrifice, — shall 
 come from the East and the West, and sit down in the 
 kingdom of God, with Moses and Zoroaster, with 
 Socrates and Jesus." * The charity which hopes that 
 men may be forgiven the crime of " religions " which, 
 
 * Discourses, p. 83. 
 
THE VIA MEDIA OF DEISM. 133 
 
 if there be a God at all, must be " abominations," one 
 can understand; but these maudlin apologies for the 
 religions themselves, — as if they were not themselves 
 crimes, and involved crimes in their very practice^ — I ^ 
 do not understand. According to this, all that man / 
 has to do is to be sincere in any thing, however diaboli- / 
 cal, and it is at once transmuted into a virtue which / 
 nothingr less than heaven can reward ! 
 
 rTPaJ 
 
 Mr. Newman sometimes follows closely in Mr. 
 ker's steps in the exercise of this bastard toleration, 
 this spurious charity ; though, in justice, I must say, he 
 does not go his length. Yet who can read without 
 loughter that definition of idolatry, made apparently 
 for the same preposterous purpose, — to sanctify the 
 hideous absurdities of the " religious sentiment," and to 
 save the credit of the " internal oracle " ? He says, — 
 " To worship as perfect and infinite one whom we knoio 
 to be imperfect and finite, this is idolatry, and (in any 
 
 bad sense) this alone A man can but adore his 
 
 own highest ideal ; to forbid this is to forbid all religion 
 to him. If, therefore, idolatry is to mean any thing 
 wrong and bad, the word must be reserved for the cases 
 in which a man degrades his ideal by worshipping 
 something that falls short of it." * __ 
 
 So that the most degraded^idolaterj^il. he but come 
 up to his own ideal of the Divinity, is none at all, but a 
 respectable worshipper ! It may be ; but the idolater's 
 ideal of God is, generally, the reality of what others 
 call the Devil ! — Only think of the divine ideal of a 
 man who worships an image of his own making, with 
 ten heads and twenty hands I The definition reminds 
 me of that passage in which Pascal's Jesuit Father de- 
 fines the moral sin of " idleness " : — " It is," says he, 
 
 * Soul, pp. 55, 5C. 
 12 
 
134 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 " a grief that spiritual things should be spiritual, as if 
 it should be regretted that the sacraments are the 
 source of grace ; and it is a mortal sin." " O Father ! " 
 said I, " I cannot imagine that any one can be idle in 
 such a sense." " So Escobar says, * I confess it is very 
 seldom that any person falls into the sin of idleness.' 
 Now, surely, you must see the necessity of a good defi- 
 nition ! " 
 
 No, no ; few but Mr. Parker will affirm that the 
 various religions which have overshadowed the world 
 are essentially more one in virtue of the "absolute 
 religion," than they are different in virtue of their prin- 
 ciples, tendencies, practices, and forms ; while in none 
 — if we except Judaism and Christianity — is there 
 enough of the " absolute religion " to keep them siveet. 
 
 These apologies, odious as they are, are necessary 
 if the credit of the " spiritual faculty " and the " abso- 
 lute religion " is to be at all preserved. But, unhappily, 
 it is not a tone which can be consistently preserved. 
 Sometimes the religions of mankind are all tolerable 
 enough, from the presence of the all-consecrating ele- 
 ment; and sometimes, in spite of this great antiseptic, 
 they are represented as the rotten, putrid things they 
 are ! And then another answer, equally empty with the 
 former, is hinted to save the credit of the darling oracle. 
 Its due influence has been perverted, its just expansion 
 prevented, by the influence of national religions, by the 
 intervention of the "historical" and "traditional," by 
 false and pernicious education ; — these things, it seems, 
 have poisoned the waters of spiritual life in their source, 
 else they had gushed out of the hidden fountains of the 
 heart pure as crystal I 
 
 Yes, it is too plain ; " Bibliolatry " and " Historical 
 Religion," in some shape, — Vedas, Koran, or Bible, — 
 have been the world's bane. Had it not been for these, 
 
THE VIA MEDIA OF DEISM. 135 
 
 I suppose, we should everywhere have heard the inva- 
 riable utterance of " spiritual religion " in the one dia- 
 lect of the heart. 
 
 It is too certain that the world has found its spiritual 
 " Babel " : the one dialect of the heart is yet to be 
 heard. 
 
 But I am not sure that the apologetic vein would 
 not be wiser. For what is this plea, but to acknowl- 
 edge that man is so constituted that the boasted " re- 
 ligious sentiment," the " spiritual faculty^" — if it exist 
 at all, and is any thing more than, an ill-defined ten- 
 dency, — instead of being a glorious light which antici- 
 pates all external revelation, and renders it superfluous, 
 is, in fact, about the feeblest in our nature ; which every- 
 where and always is seduced and debauched by the 
 most trumpery pretensions of the " historical " and " tra- 
 ditional " ! It is not so with people's eyes ; it is not so 
 with people's appetites ; no parental influence or early 
 instruction can make men think that green is blue, or 
 stones and chalk good for food. Yet this glorious 
 faculty uniformly yields, — goes into shivers in the en- 
 counter I J, at least, will grant to Mr. Parker all he 
 says of the pernicious and detestable character of the 
 infinite variety of " false conceptions of God," and to 
 Mr. Newman all he says of the "degraded types" of 
 religion ; but then it was Man himself that framed all 
 those "false conceptions," and all those "degraded 
 types." How came he thus universally to triumph over 
 that divinely implanted faculty of spiritual discernment, 
 which, if it exist, must be the most admirable feature 
 of humanity ; which these writers tell us anticipates all 
 external truths but which, it &;eems, greedily swallows all 
 external error? It almost universally submits to the 
 most contemptible pretensions of a revelation, and ac- 
 knowledges that it dares not to pronounce on that, even 
 
136 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 when false, of which, even when true, it is to be the 
 sole source I There never was an " historical" religion, 
 however contemptible, that did not make its thousands 
 of proselytes. Man has been easily led to embrace the 
 most absurd systems of mythology and superstition, 
 and is willing even to go to death for them. 
 
 So far from venturing to set up the claims of the in- 
 ternal oracle in competition, man all but uniformly takes 
 his religion from his fathers (no matter what), just as he 
 takes his property ; only the former, however worthless, 
 he holds as infinitely the more precious. Even when he 
 surrenders it, he still surrenders it to some other " histori- 
 cal " religion : it is to that he turns. Such men as Mr. 
 Newman and Mr. Parker — though every one can see 
 that their system too has been derived from iviihout^ that 
 it is, in fact, nothing but a distorted Christianity — may 
 be numbered by units. The vast bulk of mankind are 
 unresisting victims of the " traditional " and " histori- 
 cal " ; nay, rather eagerly ask for it, and willingly sub- 
 mit to it. What, then, can I infer, but either, 1st, that 
 this vaunted internal faculty which supersedes all ne- 
 cessity of an external revelation is a delusion, and exists 
 only as a vague and imperfect tendency ; or, 2dly, that, 
 as Christians saj-j it lies in ruins, and needs that exter- 
 nal revelation, the possibility of which is denied; or, 
 3dly, that God has somehow made a great mistake in 
 mingling the various elements of man's composition, 
 and miscalculating the overmastering power of the " his- 
 torical" and " traditional " ; or, 4thly, that man, hav- 
 ing the original faculty still bright and strong, and that 
 brightness and strength sufficient for his guidance and 
 support, is more hopelessly, deliberately, and diabolical- 
 ly wicked, in thus everywhere and always substituting 
 error for truth, and superstition for religion, — in thus 
 giving the historical ard traditional the uniform ascen- 
 
THE VIA MEDIA OF DEISM. 137 
 
 dency over the moral and spiritual, — than even the 
 most desperate Calvinist ever ventured to represent 
 him ! Surely he is the most detestable beast that ever 
 crawled on the face of the earth, and, in a new and 
 more portentous sense, " loves darkness rather than 
 light." The fact is, that — so far from having even a 
 suspicion that an external revelation is useless or impos- 
 sible — he, as already said, greedily seeks for it, and 
 devours it. 
 
 Nay, so far from its being authenticated by the his- 
 tory, or vouched by the consciousness of the race, this 
 very proposition — that man stands in no need of an 
 external revelation — first comes to him, and rather 
 late too, by an external revelation ; even the revelation 
 of such writers as Mr. Parker and Mr. Newman. The 
 last has been a student of theology for twenty years, and 
 has only just arrived at this conviction, that he needed 
 no light, inasmuch as he had plenty of light " within." 
 Brilliant, surely, it must have been ! I can only say 
 for myself, that I do not, even with such aid, find 
 myself in any superfluous illumination, and would 
 gladly accept, with Plato, some divine communication, 
 of which, heathen as he was, he acknowledged the ne- 
 cessity. 
 
 The mode of accounting for man's universal aber- 
 rations, from the tyranny of " bibliolatry " and super- 
 stitious and pernicious " education," — seeing that it is 
 a tyranny of man's own imposing, — is exactly like that 
 by which some theologians seek to elude the argument 
 of man's depravity ; it is owing, they say, to the influ- 
 ence of a universally depraved education ! But whence 
 that universally depraved education they forget to tell 
 us. Meantime, the inquirer is apt to put that universal 
 proclivity in the matter of education to that very de- 
 pravity for which it is to account 
 
 IS* 
 
138 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 Similarly, one is apt to infer, from man's tendency 
 to de\iate into any path of religious superstition and 
 folly, that the spiritual lantern he carries within casts 
 but a feeble light upon his path. This plea, therefore, 
 is utterly worthless ; for if it were true, that the influ- 
 ence of tradition and historic association, when once 
 set up, could thus darken and debauch the natural fac- 
 ulty, whose specific office it was to convey, like the eye, 
 specific intelligence, it would not account for the first 
 tendencies of man to disown its authority in favor of 
 an absurd and uniform submission to the usurpations 
 of tradition and priestcraft. The faculty is universally 
 feeble against this influence ; it staggers ; whether from 
 weakness or drunkenness little matters, except that the 
 last is the viler infirmity of the two. If we find a river 
 turbid, it is of no consequence whether it was so as it 
 issued from its fountain, or from pollutions which have 
 been infused into its current lower down, — it is a tur- 
 bid river still. 
 
 On the whole, so far from admitting the principle of 
 Mr. Newman, that a " book-revelation " of moral and 
 spiritual truth is unnecessary, I should rather be dis- 
 posed to infer the very contrary, from the uncertainty, 
 vacillation, and feebleness of man's spiritual nature. 
 I should be disposed to infer it, whether I look at the 
 lessons which experience and history teach, or those 
 taught by my own anxious and sincere scrutiny of my 
 own consciousness. If it 6e, on the other hand, as he 
 says, "impossible," mankind are in a very hopeless pre- 
 dicament, since it only proves that, the " spiritual in- 
 sight " of man having unhappily failed the great majority 
 Qf our race, it cannot be supplied by any external aid ; 
 that the malady, which is but too apparent, is also as 
 apparently without a remedy. 
 
 For myself, I must say that I find myself hopelessly 
 
THE VIA MEDIA OF DEISM. 139 
 
 at issue with him in virtue of the above axiom, whether 
 I receive or reject his theory of religious truth ; for, if 
 that axiom be true, I must reject his theory of religion, 
 — since it is nothing but a book-revelation to me, — 
 issued by Mr. Newman, i^nstead of the Bible or the 
 Koran. On the other hand, if that theory be true, and 
 I accept it, his maxim must be false, for the very same 
 reason ; since he himself will have given me a double 
 book-revelation, — a revelation at once of the theory 
 and of the genesis of religion, both of which are in 
 many respects absolute novelties to my consciousness. 
 
 But further; if we take the genesis of religion as 
 described by either of these writers, and consider the 
 infinite corruptions to which they both acknowledge a 
 perverted, imperfect "development" of the "religious 
 sentiment" and the "spiritual faculty" has led, one 
 would imagine that an external communicatidH from 
 Heaven might be both very possible and very useful ; 
 useful, if only by cautioning men against those " false 
 conceptions" which have so uniformly swamped the 
 " idea," and those " degraded types," into which all 
 the various principles of our nature have wheedled the 
 " spiritual faculty." Only listen to a brief specimen of 
 the " by-path meadows " which entice the poor soul 
 from the direct course of its development, and judge 
 whether a communication from Heaven, if it were only 
 to the extent of a sign-post by the way-side, might not 
 be of use ! First comes " awe." " But even in this 
 early stage," says Mr. Newman, ''' numberless deviations 
 take place, and mark especially the rudest Paganism. 
 We may embrace them under the general name of 
 
 Fetichism, wbich here claims attention But even 
 
 in the midst of enlightened science, and highly literate 
 ages, errors fundamentally identical with those of Feti- 
 chism may and do exist, and with the very same re- 
 
140 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 suits." * Then comes wonder : " But of this likewise 
 we find numerous degraded types in which the rising 
 religion is marred Of this we have eminent in- 
 stances in the gods of Greece, and in the fairies of the 
 
 German and Persian tribes Under the same head 
 
 will be included the grotesque devil-stories and other 
 
 legends of the Middle Ages Yet the dreadful 
 
 alternative of gross superstition is this, that the graver 
 view tends to cruel and horrible rites, while the fanciful 
 and sportive sucks out the life-blood of devout feel- 
 ing." t Then comes the sense of beauty : " This was 
 strikingly illustrated in Greek sculpture. A statue of 
 exquisite beauty, representing some hero, or an Apollo, 
 because of its beauty, seemed to the Greeks a fit object 
 
 of worship An opposite danger is often remarked 
 
 to accompany the use of all the fine arts as handmaids 
 to religion ; namely, that the would-be worshipper is 
 so absorbed in mere beauty as never to rise into devo- 
 tion." J Then comes the sense of order ; but, alas ! 
 Atheism and Pantheism, and other " degrading types," 
 may be begotten of it ! 
 
 As I look at men thus tumbling into error along this 
 wretched causeway to heaven, I seem to be viewing 
 Addison's bridge of human life, with its broken arches, 
 at each of which thousands are- falling through. This 
 way to the "celestial city" ought to be called the 
 " Northwest Passage " ; it has one^ and only one, trait 
 of your Christian path : " there will be few that find it " 
 
 If, then, by the confession of these writers, the " false 
 conceptions" and the "degraded types" — the result 
 of what are as truly " principles " of man's nature as 
 the supposed " spiritual faculty," only that this last 
 always has the worst in the conflict — have universally, 
 
 • Soul, pp. 7, 10. t Ibid. pp. 14 - 16. { Ibid. pp. 21, 23. 
 
THE VIA MEDIA OF DEISM. 141 
 
 and for unknown ages, involved man in the darkest 
 abysses of superstition, crime, and misery, surely exter- 
 nal revelation is any thing but superfluous ; and if im- 
 possible, so much the worse. 
 
 The same truth is even formally evinced by the self- 
 destructive course which both writers employ ; for as 
 the conditions of the development of our "spiritual 
 nature," when not complied with, lead to all the de- 
 plorable conseqtiences which they acknowledge, how 
 do they propose to rectify them ? , Why, by " external " 
 culture, proper discipline and training, judicious in- 
 struction, by enlig'htening' mankind, — as we may sup- 
 pose they are doing by these hopeful books of theirs ! 
 If man can do so much by his books, is it impossible 
 that a book from God migM^o^sojnething more ? But 
 on this I will say nothing, since you tell me that you 
 have heard attentively the conversation I had with my 
 friend Fellowes the other day. I will therefore omit 
 what I had written on this point 
 
 But I proceed to another, maintained by these, writ- 
 ers, on which I confess I am equally sceptical. If 
 they concede (as how can they help it?) that the 
 " religious sentiment " and the " spiritual faculty " have 
 somehow left humanity involved in the most deplorable 
 perplexities and the most humiliating errors, they yet 
 assure us that there is "a good time coming," — an 
 auspicious " progress " in virtue and religion, verf/ grad- 
 ual indeed, ~but_sure and illimitable for the race col- 
 lectively ! Yes, " progress," that is the word ; and a 
 " progress " for the world at large, of which they speak 
 as certainly as if they had received, at least on that 
 point, that external revelation, the possibility of which 
 they deny. A matter of spiritual " insight " I presume 
 none will declare it to be, and the data are certainly far 
 too meagre and unsatisfactory to make it calculation* 
 
142 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 Is Sau. among the prophets ? Yes ; but, as usual, the 
 truth (if it be a truth) for which they contend is, as 
 with other parts of their systeni, a plagiarism from the 
 abjured Bible. Now, if I must believe prophecy, I 
 prefer the magnificent strains of Isaiah to the senti- 
 mental prose either of Mr. Parker or of Mr. Newman. 
 
 I must modestly doubt whether, apart from the rep- 
 resentations of the "books" they abjure as special 
 " revelations," there is any thing in the history of the 
 world which will justify a sober-minded man in coming 
 to any positive conclusion as to this promised " prog- 
 ress," this infidel millennium, either the one way or the 
 other. The chief facts, apart from such special infor- 
 mation, would certainly point the other way. Look 
 at the condition of the immense majority of the race 
 in every age, — so far as we can gather any thing from 
 history, — compare it with that of the immense major- 
 ity at the present moment ; — what does it tell us ? 
 Why, surely, that, if there be a destiny of indefinite 
 " progress " in religion and virtue for the race collec- 
 tively, the hand of the great clock moves so immeasur- 
 ably slow that it is impossible to note it. The expe- 
 rience of the individual, nay, of recorded history, — 
 if we can say there is any such thing, — fails to trace 
 the movement of the index on the huge dial. If there 
 be this progress for the race collectively^ it must be 
 accomplished in a cycle vast as those of the geological 
 eras ; — a deposit of a millionth of an inch of knowledge 
 and virtue over the whole race in fifty million years or 
 so ! Mr. Newman is pleased to say, " Some nations 
 sink, while others rise ; but the lower and higher levels 
 are both generally ascending." Has this level for the 
 whole race been raised perceptibly within the memory 
 of so-called history ? 
 
 Observe ; I am not denying that the notion may be 
 
THE VIA MEDIA OF DEIS.':!. 143 
 
 true : I am literally the sceptic I profess to be ; I know- 
 not — apart from special information from a superhu- 
 man source — whether it be true or false. I am only 
 venturing to laugh at men, who, denying any such in- 
 formation, affect to speak with any confidence on the 
 solution of this prodigious problem, the data for solving 
 which I contend we have not; while those we have, 
 apart from the direct assurance of supposed inspiration, 
 more plausibly point to an opposite conclusion. The 
 conclusion which would more naturally suggest itself 
 from the history of the past would be that of perpetual 
 advance and perpetual retrogression, contemporaneously 
 going on in different portions of the race, — perpetual 
 flux and reflux of the waves of knowledge and science 
 on different shores ; though, alas ! as to " religion and 
 virtue^^ I fear that these, like the Mediterranean, are al- 
 most without their tides. For a " progress " in the for- 
 mer, — in the race collectively, — far more plausible 
 arguments can be adduced than for a progress in the 
 latter; yet how much might be said that appears to 
 militate even against that. Think of the frequent and 
 signal checks to civilization ; its transference from seat 
 to seat ; the decay of races once celebrated for knowl- 
 edge and art ; the inundations of barbarism from time 
 to time; — these things alone might make a sober mind 
 pause before he predicted for the entire race a certain 
 progress even in art and science. Experience would at 
 most justify a philosopher in saying, "Perhaps, yes; 
 perhaps, no." But the argument becomes incomparably 
 more doubtful when w^e come to " religion," and espe- 
 cially that particular form of it which such writers as 
 Messrs. Parker and Newman believe will be preeminent 
 and universal; towards which consummation it does 
 not appear at present that the smallest conceivable ad-, 
 vance has been made ; since, with the exception of that 
 
144 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 » 
 
 infinitesimal party, of which they are among the chief, 
 the immense majority of mankind persist in rejecting 
 the sufficiency of the "internal" oracle, and are still 
 found as strongly convinced as ever both of the possi- 
 bility and necessity of an "external" revelation, and 
 that, in some shape or other, it has been given I Nay, 
 the facts, so far as v/e have any, seem all the other 
 way ; for no sooner had men been put approximately 
 in possession of the pure " spiritual truth," which both 
 Mr. Newman and Mr. Parker suppose to be character- 
 istic in larger measure of Judaism and Christianity than 
 of any other religion, than they busily began the work, 
 not of improvement, but of corruption. The Jews cor- 
 ifbpted their pure monotheistic truths into what these 
 writers believe the fables, legends, miracles, and absurd 
 dogmas of the Old Testament: and, as li that were not 
 enough, proceeded to bury them in the huge absurdi- 
 ties of the Rabbinical traditions ; the Christians, in 
 like manner, corrupted the yet purer truths, which these 
 writers affirm Christianity teaches, with what they also 
 affirm to be the load of myth, fiction, false history, and 
 monstrous doctrine, which make up nine tenths of the 
 New Testament : and, as if that were not enough, pro- 
 ceeded, just as did the Jews, to " expand " the New 
 Testament itself into the worse than Rabbinical tradi- 
 tions of the Papacy ! From approximate " spiritual 
 truth" to the supposed legends and false dogmas ol 
 the Pentateuch, from the supposed legends and dogmas 
 of the Pentateuch to the absurdities of the Talmud ; 
 — again, from the approximate "spiritual truth" of 
 Christianity to the supposed legends and fanciful doc- 
 trines of the New Testament, and from the legends and 
 doctrines of the New Testament to the corruptions of 
 the Papacy ; — surely these are queer proofs of a ten- 
 dency to progress! A tendency to retrogradation is 
 
THE VIA MEDIA OF DEISM. 145 
 
 rather indicated. No sooner, it appears, does man pro- 
 ceed to obtain " spiritual truth " tolerably pure, as tested \ 
 by such writers, than he proceeds incontinently to adul- ,! 
 terate it ! This unhappy and uniform tendency is also 
 a curious comment on the impotence of the internal 
 spiritual oracle, as against the ascendency of the " his- 
 torical " and " traditional." 
 
 Similar arguments of doubt may be derived from 
 other facts. 
 
 Over how many countries did primitive Christianity 
 soon degenerate into such odious idolatry, that even the 
 delusions of the " false prophet " have been considered 
 (like the doom to "labor") as a sort of beneficent curse 
 in comparison ! What, again, for ages, was the history 
 of those " Shemitic races," in which, of all " races," 
 was found, according to Mr. Parker, the happiest " re- 
 ligious organization," by which they discovered, earlier 
 than other "races," the great truths of Monotheism? 
 One incessant bulimia for idolatry was their master- 
 passion for ages; while for many ages past, as has 
 been remarked by a countryman of Mr. Parker, their 
 " happy religious organization " has been in deplorable 
 ruins. 
 
 I humbly venture, then, once again, to doubt whether 
 any sober-minded man, apart from " special inspira- 
 tion," can affirm that he has any grounds to utter a 
 word about a " progress " in religion or virtue for the 
 race collectively. But it is easy to see where these 
 waiters obtained the notion ; they have stolen it from 
 that Bible which as a special revelation they have ab* 
 jured. 
 
 I cannot help remarking here, that it is a most sus- 
 picious circumstance, if there be, indeed, any universal 
 and sufficient "internal revelation,'*-^at these writers 
 find every memorable advance qi what they deem re- 
 
 13 
 
146 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH;'^ 
 
 ligious truth in unaccountable connection either with 
 the happy " religious organization of one race," accord- 
 ing to Mr. Parker, or in equally strange connection with 
 the records of " two books " originating among that race, 
 according to Mr. Newman. " The Bible," says the lat- 
 ter, "is pervaded by a sentiment which is implied every- 
 where, namely, the intimate sympathy of the Pure and 
 Perfect God ivith the heart of each faithful worshipper. 
 This is that which is wanting in Greek philosophers, 
 English Deists, German Pantheists, and all formalists. 
 This is that which so often edifies me in Christian 
 writers and speakers, when I ever so much disbelieve 
 the letter of their sentences." * 
 
 It is unaccountably odd that the universal spiritual 
 faculty should act thus capriciously, and equally odd 
 that Mr. Newman does not perceive, that, if it were not 
 for the " Bible," his religion would no more have as- 
 sumed the peculiar task it has, than that of Aristotle or 
 Cicero. Sentiments due to the still active influences 
 of his Christian education he imputes to the direct in- 
 tuitions of spiritual vision, just as we are apt to con- 
 found the original and acquired perceptions of our eye- 
 . sight. He is in the condition of one who mistakes a 
 
 j ireflected image for the object itself, or a forgotten sug- 
 gestion of another for an original idea. In the camera 
 
 I obscura of his mind, he flatters himself that the colored 
 
 / forms there traced are the original inscriptions on the 
 [ walls, forgetful of the little aperture which has let in 
 N the light; and not even disturbed by the untoward 
 
 r phenomenon, that the ideas thus contemplated are all 
 
 \ upside down. 
 
 But, surely, it is natural to ask, — How is it that 
 Greek philosophers, Hindoo sages, Egyplian priests, 
 
 • Phases, p. 188. 
 
THE VIA MEDIA OF DEISM, 147 
 
 English Deists, — that men of all other religions,— 
 having always had access to the fountain of natural 
 illumination within,^ have not also had their " Baxters, 
 Leightons, Watts, Doddridges " ? that the whole style 
 of thought on this subject is so totally different in them 
 all, by his own confession ? If man possess the " spirit- 
 ual faculty " attributed to him, — if it be a characteristic 
 of humanity, — it will be surely generally manifested ; 
 and even if those disturbing causes — which he and 
 Mr. Parker so plentifully provide, by which the genesis 
 of religion is so unhappily marred, but which, alas ! no 
 revelation from without can ever counteract — prevent 
 its uniform, or nearly uniform display, still its principal 
 indications (partial though they may be everywhere) 
 ought, at least, to be everywhere indifferently diffused 
 throughout the race. Its manifestation may be spO' 
 radiCf but it will be in one race as in another; it 
 will not be suspiciously confined to one race with 
 a peculiarly felicitous " religious organization," or to 
 "two books" exclusively originating with that favored 
 race. _ 
 
 For his " spiritual " illumination, it is easy to see 
 Mr. Newman's exclusive dependence on that Bible 
 which he abjures as a special revelation. If it has 
 not been so to mankind, it has, at least, been so to Mr. 
 Newman. To it he perpetually runs for argument and 
 illustration. Among those who will accept his infidel- 
 ity I apprehend there will be few who will not recoil 
 from his representations of spiritual experience, so ob- 
 viously nothing more than a disguised and mutilated 
 Christianity. They will say, that they do not wish the 
 " new cloth sewed on to the old garment " ; scarcely a 
 soul amongst them will sympathize with his souPs 
 "sorrows," or share to soul's " aspirations"! 
 
 But, however these things may be, I now proceed to 
 
148 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. ' 
 
 what I acknowledge is the most weighty topic of my 
 argument ; which is to prove that, if I acquiesce, on 
 Mr. Newman's grounds, in the rejection of the Bible as 
 a special revelation of God, I am compelled on the very 
 same principles to go a few steps further, and to express 
 doubts of the absolutely divine original of the Worlds 
 and the administration thereof, just as he does of the 
 divine original of the Bible. If 1 concede to Mr. New- 
 man, however we may differ as to the moral and spirit- 
 ual faculties of man, that these are yet the sole and 
 ultimate court of appeal to us ; that from our " intui- 
 tions " of right and wrong, of " moral and spiritual 
 truth," be they more perfect according to him, or more 
 rudimentary and imperfect according to me, we must 
 form a judgment of the moral bearings of every pre- 
 sumed external revelation of God, — I cannot do other- 
 wise than reject much of the revelation of God in his 
 presumed Works as unworthy of him, just as Mr. New- 
 man does very much in his supposed Word as equally 
 unworthy of him. Mr. Newman says, " Only by dis- 
 cerning that God has Virtues, similar in kind to human 
 Virtues, do we know of his truthfulness and his good- 
 ness The nature of the case implies, that the 
 
 human mind is competent to sit in moral and spiritual 
 judgment on a professed revelation, and to decide (if the 
 case seem to require it) in the following tone : — * This 
 doctrine attributes to God that which tve should all 
 call harsh, cruel, or unjust in man : it is therefore in- 
 trinsically inadmissible ; for if God may be (what we 
 should call) cruel, he may equally well be (what we 
 should call) a liar ; and, if so, of what use is his word 
 to us ? ' " * Similarly Mr. Newman continually affirms 
 that God reveals himself, when he reveals himself at all, 
 
 * Soul, p. 58. 
 
THE VIA MEDIA OF DEISM. 149 
 
 tr*,fftj|lLl ptli* /" "^^'C^'^' 2is he says in his " Phases,"-— 
 " Of our moral and spiritual God we know nothing 
 toUhout, — every thing within. It is in the spirit that 
 we meet him, not in the communications of sense." * If 
 I acquiesce in this judgment, I must apply the reason- 
 ing of the above passage to the "external revelation" 
 of God in his Works, as well as to that in his Word; 
 and the above reasoning will be equally valid, merely 
 [substituting one word for the other. We are to decide, 
 if Ihe case seem to require it, in the following tone: — 
 " These phenomena — this conduct — implies what tve 
 should call in man harsh, or cruel, or unjust; it is, j 
 therefore, intrinsically inadmissible as God^s work or/ 
 God's conduct" 
 
 Acting on his principles, Mr. Newman refuses to 
 ** depress" his conscience (as he says) to the Bible 
 standard. He affirms, that in many cases the Bible 
 sanctions, and even enjoins, things which shock his 
 moral sense as flagrantly immoral, and he must there- 
 fore reject them as supposed to be sanctioned by God. 
 He in different places gives instances; — as the sup- 
 posed approbation of the assassination of Sisera by the 
 wife of Heber, the command to Abraham to sacrifice 
 his son, and the extermination of the Canaanites. Now>. 
 whether the Bible represents God, or not, in all these 
 cases, as sanctioning the things in question, I shall not 
 be at the pains to inquire, because I am willing to take 
 it for granted that Mr. Newman's representation is per- 
 fectly correct. I only think that he ought, in consisten- 
 cy, to have gone a little further. Let him defend, as in 
 perfect harmony with his "intuitions" of right and 
 wrong, the undeniably similar instances which occur in 
 the administration of the universe ; or, if it be found 
 
 • P. 52. 
 18 • 
 
150 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 impossible to solve those difficulties, let him acknowl- 
 edge, either that our supposed essential " intuitions " of 
 moral rectitude are not to be trusted, as applicable to 
 the Supreme Being, and that therefore the argument 
 from them against the Bible is inconclusive ; or, that no 
 such being exists ; or, lastly, that He has conferred up- 
 on man an intuitive conception of moral equity and 
 rectitude, — of the just and the unjust, — in most edi- 
 fying contradiction to his own character and proceed- 
 ings ! 
 
 Here Fellowes broke in : — 
 
 " If indeed there he any such instances; but I think 
 Mr. Newmdn would reply, that they will be sought for 
 in vain in the ' world,' however plentiful, as I admit 
 they are, in the Bible." 
 
 " I know not whether he would deny them or not," 
 said Harrington ; *' but they are found in great abun- 
 dance in the world notwithstanding, and this is my 
 difficulty. If Mr. Newman were the creator of the 
 universe, no question, none of these contradictions be- 
 tween * intuitions ^ within, and stubborn ' facts ' with- 
 out, would be found. He has created a God after his 
 own mind ; if he could but have created a universe al- 
 so after his own mind, we should doubtless have been 
 relieved from all our perplexities. But, unhappily, we 
 find in it, as I imagine, the very things which so startle 
 Mr. Newman in the Scriptural representations of the di- 
 vine character and proceedings. Is he not, like all oth- 
 er infidels, peculiarly scandalized, that God should have 
 enjoined the extermination of the Canaanites ? and yet 
 does not God do still more startling things every day of 
 our lives, and which appear less startling only because 
 we are familiar with them, — at least, if we believe that 
 the elements, pestilence, famine, in a word, destruction 
 in all its forms, really fulfil his bidding ? Is there any 
 
THE TIA MEDIA OF DEISM. 
 
 m 
 
 difFere.ice in the world between the cases, except that 
 the terrible phenomena which we find it impossible to 
 account for are on an infinitely larger scale, and in du- 
 ration as ancient as the world ? that they have, in fact, 
 been going on for thousands of weary years, and for 
 aught you or I can tell, and as Mr. Newman seems to 
 think probable, for millions of years ? Does not a pesti- 
 lence or a famine send thousands of the guilty and the 
 innocent alike — nay, thousands of those who know not 
 their right hand from their left — to one common de- 
 struction ? Does, not God (if you suppose it his doing) 
 swallow up whole cities by earthquake, or overwhelm 
 them with volcanic fires ? I say, is there any differ- 
 ence between the cases, except that the victims are 
 very rarely so wicked as the Canaanites are said to 
 have been, and that God in the one case himself does 
 the very things which he commissions men to do in the 
 other ? Now, if the thing' be wrong, I, for one, shall 
 never think it less wrong to do it one's self than to do it 
 by proxy." 
 
 " But," said Fellowes, rather warmly, for he felt rath- 
 er restive at this part of Harrington's discourse, " it is 
 absurd to compare such sovereign acts of inexplicable 
 will on the part of God with his command to a being 
 so constituted as man to perform them." 
 
 '" Absurd be it," said Harrington, " only be so kind as 
 to show it to be so, instead of saying so. I maintain 
 that the one class of facts are just as 'inexplicable,' as 
 you call it, as the other, and only appear otherwise be- 
 cause, in the one case, we daily see them, have become 
 accustomed to them and, what is more than all, cannot 
 deny them, — which last we can so promptly do in the 
 other case ; for Moses is not here to contradict us. But 
 I rather think, that a being constituted morally and in- 
 tellectually like us, who had never known any but a 
 
152 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 world of happiness, would just as promptly deny that 
 God could ever perform such feats as are daily performed 
 in this world I I repeat, that, if for some reasons (' inex- 
 plicable,' I grant you) God does not mind doing such 
 /things, he is not likely to hesitate to enjoin them ; for 
 f reasons perhaps equally inexplicable. I say perhaps ; 
 for, as I compare such an event as the earthquake in 
 Lisbon, or the plague in London, with the extermina- 
 tion of the Canaanites, I solemnly assure you that I 
 find a greater difficulty, as far as my ' intuitions ' go, in 
 supposing the former event to have been effected by a 
 divine agency than the latter. If we take the Scripture 
 history, we must at least allow that the race thus 
 doomed had long tried the patience of Heaven by their 
 flagrant impiety and unnatural vices; that they had 
 become a centre and a source (as we sometimes see 
 collections of men to be) of raoral pestilence, in the 
 vicinage of which it was unsafe for men to dwell; that, 
 as the Scriptures say (whether truly or falsely, I do not 
 inquire), they had ' filled up the measure of their iniqui- 
 ties.' Let this be supposed as fictitious as you please, 
 still the whole proceeding is represented as a solemn 
 judicial one ; and supposing the events to have occur- 
 red just as they are narrated, it positively seems to me 
 much less difficult to suppose them to harmonize with 
 1 the character of a just and even beneficent being, than 
 I those wholesale butcheries which have desolated the 
 world, in every hour of its long history, without any 
 discrimination whatever of innocence or guilt ; which, 
 ' if they have inflicted unspeakable miseries on the im- 
 mediate victims, have produced probably as much or 
 more in the agony of the myriad myriads of hearts 
 which have bled or broken in unavailing sorrow over 
 the sufferings they could not relieve. Such things (I 
 speak now only of what man has not in any sense in- 
 
THE VIA MEDIA OF DEISM. 
 
 153 
 
 flicted) are, in your view, as undeniably the work of 
 God as is the extermination of the Canaanites accord- 
 ing to the Bible. Why, if God does not mind doing' ~i 
 such things, are we to suppose that he minds on some j 
 occasions ordering them to be done ; unless we suppose ! 
 that man — delicate creature ! — has more refined intui- i 
 tions of right and wrong^^aiid knows better what they j 
 are, than God himself? ' Now, Mr. Newman and you 
 affirm, that to suppose God should have enjoined the 
 destruction of the Canaanites is a contradiction of our 
 moral intuitions ; and that for this and similar reasons 
 you cannot believe the Bible to be the word of God. I 
 answer, that the things I have mentioned are in still 
 more glaring contradiction to such * intuitions ' ; than 
 which none appears to me more clear than this, — that 
 the morally innocent ought not to suffer ; and I there- 
 fore doubt whether the above phenomena are the work 
 of God. I must refuse, on the very same principle on 
 which Mr. Newman disallows the Bible to be a true 
 revelation of such a Being, to allow this universe to be 
 so. In equally glaring inconsistency is the entire ad- 
 ministration of this lower world with what appears to 
 me a first principle of moral rectitude, — namely, that 
 he who suffers a wrong to be inflicted on another, when 
 he can prevent it, is responsible for the wrong itself. 
 The whole world is full of such instances." 
 
 " Ay," said Fellowes, eagerly, " we ought to prevent 
 a wrong, provided we have the right as well as the 
 power to interfere." 
 
 " I am supposing that we have the right as well as 
 the power ; as, for example, to prevent a man from mur- 
 dering his neighbor, or a thief from entering his dwell- 
 ing. There are, no doubt, many acts which, from our 
 very limited right, we should have no business to pre- 
 vent; as, for example, to prevent a man from getting 
 
154 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH, 
 
 tipsy at his own table with his own wine. But no such 
 limitation can apply to Him who is supposed to be the 
 Absolute Monarch of the universe ; and yet He (accord- 
 ing to your view) notoriously does not interpose to pre- 
 vent the daily commission of the most heinous wrongs 
 and cruelties under which the earth has groaned, and 
 hearts have been breaking, for thousands of years. You 
 will say, perhaps, that in all such instances we must 
 believe that there are some reasons for His conduct, 
 though we cannot guess what they are. Ah I my friend, 
 if you come to believing^ you may believe also that the 
 difficulties involved in the Scriptural representations of 
 the Divine character and proceedings are susceptible of 
 a similar solution. If you come to believing^ I think 
 the Christian can believe as well as you, and rather 
 more consistently. But let me proceed." 
 
 He then read on. 
 
 It is plain, that, in accordance with our primitive 
 " moral intuitions " (if we have any), we should hold 
 him who had the power to prevent a wrong, and did not 
 use it, as a participator and accomplice in the crime he 
 did not prevent. Applying, therefore, the principles of 
 Mr. Newman, I must refuse to acknowledge such con- 
 duct on the part of the Divine Being, and to say, that 
 such things are not done by him. If I may trust my 
 whisper of him, derived from analogous moral qualities 
 in myself, I must believe that an administration which 
 BO ruthlessly permits these things is not his work ; but 
 that his power, wisdom, and goodness have been 
 thwarted, baffled, and overmastered by some " omnipo- 
 tent devil," to use Mr. Newman's expression ; if it be, 
 then that whisper of him cannot be trusted: the hea- 
 then was right, ^^Sunt superis suajuraP In other words, 
 I feel that I must become an Atheist, a Pantheist, a 
 Manichaean, or — what I am — a sceptic. 
 
THE VIA MEDIA OF DEISM. 155 
 
 All these perplexities are increased when I trace 
 them up to that profound mystery in which they all 
 originate, -rm T meaa^-thapermisgloiL of. physical and 
 moraLevi!.- Either evil could have been prevented or 
 not; if it could, its immense and horrible prevalence is 
 at war with the intuition akeady referred to ; if it 
 could not, who shall prove it ? I am no more able 
 to contradict the intuitions of the intellect than those 
 of the conscience ; and if any thing can be called a 
 contradiction of the former, it is to be told that a Being 
 of infinite power, wisdom, and beneficence could not 
 construct a world without an immensity of evil in it; 
 no reason being assignable or even imaginable for such 
 a proposition, except the fact that such a world has 
 not been created ! I am therefore compelled to doubt, 
 whether such a universe be really the fabrication of 
 such a Being. It is impossible to express my astonish- 
 ment at the ease with which Mr. Newrnan disposes of 
 the difficulties connected with the origin atid perpetua- 
 tion of physical and moral evil. His arguments are 
 just two of the most hackneyed commonplaces with 
 which metaphysicians have attempted to evade these 
 stupendous difficulties ; and it is not too much to say, 
 that there never was a man who was not resolved that 
 his theory must stand, who pretended to attach any 
 importance to them. They are most gratuitously as- 
 sumed, and even then are most trival alleviations ; a 
 mere plaster of brown paper for a deep-seated cancer. 
 
 I certainly know of no other man who has stood so 
 unabashed in front of these awful forms. One almost 
 envies him the truly childlike faith with which he 
 waves his hand to these Alps, and says, " Be ye re- 
 moved, and cast into the sea"; but the feeling is ex- 
 changed for another, when he seems to rub his eyes, 
 and exclaim, " Presto, they are gone sure enough ! " 
 
156 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 while you still feel that you stand far within the cir- 
 cumference of their awful shadows. 
 
 As to physical evil, Mr. Newman tells us, " Here it 
 may be sufficient to remark, that the difficulty turns 
 on the Epicurean assumption, that physical ease and 
 comfort is the most valuable thing in the universe: 
 but that is not true even with brutes. There is a cer- 
 tain perfection in the nature of each, consisting in the 
 full development of all their powers, to which the ex- 
 isting order manifestly tends As for suscepti- 
 bility to p?iin, it is obviously essential to every part of 
 corporeal life, and to discuss the question of degree is 
 absurd. On the other hand, human capacity for sorrow 
 is equally necessary to our whole moral nature, and 
 sorrow itself is a most essential process for the perfect- 
 ing of the soul." * 
 
 This, then, is the fine balm for all the anguish under 
 which the world has been groaning for these thousands 
 of years ! But, first, how does suffering tend to the per- 
 fection of the whole lower creation ? It enfeebles, and 
 at last destroys them, I know ; but I am yet to learn 
 that it is essential to the perfection of animal life. 
 Again, how does it minister to that of man, except he 
 be more than the insect of the day, of which Mr. New- 
 man's theology leaves him in utter doubt? And if he 
 he immortal, how does it operate beneficially except as 
 an instrument of moral improvement ? And how rare- 
 ly (comparatively) do we see that it has that effect! 
 How often is it most prolonged and torturing in those 
 who seem least to need it, and in those who are abso- 
 lutely as yet incapable of learning from it ; or, alas ! are 
 too evidently past learning from it ! How often do we 
 see, slowly sinking under the protracted agonies of con- 
 
 • Soul, pp. 43, 44. 
 
THE VIA MEDIA OF DEISM. 157 
 
 sumption, cancer, or stone, all these various classes of 
 mortals, without our being able to assign, or even con- 
 jecture, the slightest reason for such experiments! I 
 acknowledge freely, that we can give no reasons for 
 them ; but it is to mock miserable humanity to give 
 such reasons as these ; doubly to mock it, if men be the 
 ephemeral creatures which Mr. Newman's theology 
 leaves in such doubt ; since in that case we see not only 
 (what we see at any rate) that physical evil does not 
 always, nor even in many instances, produce a salutary 
 moral effect, but that it hardly matters whether it does 
 or not; for just as the poor patient may be beginning 
 to be benefited by his discipline, and generally in con- 
 sequence of it, he is unluckily annihilated; he dies of 
 his medicine! Surely, if physical evil be this grand 
 elixir, never was such a precious balm so improvidently 
 expended. We may well say, only with much more 
 reason, what the Jews said of Mary's box of ointment, — 
 " Why was all this waste ? " To be sure it is " given " 
 in abundance '• to the poor." 
 
 And, at the best, this exquisite reasoning gives no 
 account whatever of that suffering which falls upon 
 innocent infancy and childhood. It destroys ,ihQ^ 
 however, and effectually prevents their attaining the 
 " perfection " which it is so admirable an instrument of 
 developing, and that too before they can be morally 
 benefited by the " salutary " sorrow it brings ! 
 
 " Susceptibility to pain," says Mr. Newman, " is 
 essential to corporeal being." 
 
 Yes, susceptibility to pain ; just as a created being 
 must be liable to annihilation. Must he be annihilated ? 
 Just as a hungry stomach must be liable to starvation. 
 Must it be starved ? The primary office of susceptibili' 
 ties to pain would seem to be to forewarn us to provide 
 against it. They certainly have that effect. Does it 
 
 14 
 
158 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 necessarily follow that they must involve anguish and 
 death ? Unless it be supposed, indeed, that nature, 
 having provided such an admirable apparatus of " sus- 
 ceptibilities " of pain, thought it a thousand pities that 
 they should not be employed. 
 
 But when it comes to " moral evil," which Mr. New- 
 man acknowledges cannot be so lightly disposed of, 
 what, then ? 
 
 Why, then he says, " Let the Gordian knot be cut." 
 
 "Well, what then ? Why, then Mr. Newman frankly 
 " assumes " that it is " transitory and finite," * and will 
 one day vanish from the universe, a supposition for 
 which he condescends to give no reason whatever. 
 
 Stat pro ratione voluntas. 
 
 That this " moral evil " should have existed at all, 
 much more to so immense an extent, under the admin- 
 istration of supposed infinite power, wisdom, and benev- 
 olence, is the great difficulty ; that it will ever cease to 
 be, is a pure assumption for the nonce ; ]but if it will 
 one day entirely vanish, it is gratuitous to suppose it 
 might not have been prevented. 
 
 I, of course, acknowledge that we can give no 
 answtr to the questions involved in this transcendent 
 mystery, — that our ignorance is absolute ; but I do 
 say, that, if I am to trust to those " intuitions " of the 
 Divine Goodness, on whose warranty Mr. Newman 
 and Mr. Parker reject the Bible, as containing what is 
 unworthy of their conceptions of God, I am compelled 
 to proceed further in the same direction ; and repudiate, 
 as unworthy of Him, not merely some of the phenomena 
 of the Book which men profess to be His word^ but also 
 some of the phenomena of that universe which men 
 profess to be His work. If I can only judge, as these 
 
 • Soul, p. 45. 
 
THE VIA MEDIA OF DEISM. 159 
 
 gentlemen urge, of such a Being by the analogies of my ( 
 own nature, no " intuition " of theirs can possibly seem '] 
 stronger than do mine, that beings absolutely innocent 
 ought not to suffer ; that to inflict suffering upon them 
 is injustice ; that to permit any evils which we can pre- 
 vent is in like manner to be accomplices in the crime. 
 On those very principles of all moral judgment which 
 Mr. Newman says are innate and our only rule, I say ] 
 I am compelled to these conclusions ; for if God does / 
 those things which axe ordinarily attributed to Him, ( 
 He acts as much in contravention of these intuitions as \ 
 in any acts attributed to Him in the Bible. If it be ^ 
 said, that there mat/ be reasons for such apparent vio- 
 lations of rectitude, which we cannot fathom, I deny it 
 not; but that is to acknowledge that the supposed 
 maxims derived from the analogies of our own being 
 are most deceptive as applied to the Supreme ; it is to 
 remit us to an act of absolute faith, by which, with no 
 greater effort, nor so great, we may be reconciled to ] 
 similar mysteries of the Bible. But above all is it to 
 do this, to say that the origin and permission of physi- 
 cal and moral evil are inexplicable ; and it is to double 
 this demand on faith, to declare that it was all neces- 
 sari/, and could not be evaded in the construction of the 
 universe even by infinite power, directed by infinite 
 wisdom, and both animated by an infinite benevolence ! 
 As far as I can trust my reason at all, nothing seems 
 more improbable ; and if I receive it by a transcendent /i 
 exercise of faith, I may^ as before, give the Bible the / ' 
 benefit of a like act. I am compelled, therefore, on 
 such principles, either to adopt a Manichaean hypothesis 
 of the universe, or do what I have done, — adopt none 
 at all. 
 
 I was talking to a friend on these subjects the other 
 day: "Ah! but," said he, "many of those difficulties 
 
160 
 
 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 you mention oppress every hypothesis, — Christianity 
 just as much as the rest." 
 
 This, I replied, is no answer to we nor to you^ if you 
 have a particle of candor; still less is it one to the 
 Christian^ who consistently applies the same principle 
 of absolute fa.ith to things apparently a priori incredible, 
 whether found in the works or in the word of God. 
 But if you think the argument of any force, apply it to 
 the next Christian you meet, and see w^hat answ^er he 
 will make to you ; it will not trouble him. But it is far 
 more ridiculous addressed to me. I ask for somethingr 
 in the place of that Bible of which the faithful applica- 
 tion of your own principles deprives me ; and when I 
 affirm that the difficulties of the universe are no less 
 than those of the Bible I have surrendered, you tell me 
 that the perplexities of my new position are no greater 
 than those of the old! That clearly will not do. I 
 must go further. If I am to yield to pretensions of 
 any kind, I would infinitely prefer the yoke of the 
 Bible to that of Messrs. Parker and Newman ; for it is 
 to nothing else than their dogmatism I must yield, if I 
 admit that the difficulties which compel me to doubt in 
 the one case are less than those which compel me to 
 doubt in the other. 
 
 But it is not even true that the difficulties in ques- 
 tion are left where they were by the adoption of any 
 such theory as that of either Mr. Parker or Mr. New- 
 man. I contend that they are all indefinitely increased. 
 The Bible does at least give me a plausible account of 
 some of the mysteries which baffle me : it tells me that 
 man was created holy and happy ; that he has fallen 
 from his " excellent estate " ; and hence the misery, ig- 
 norance, and guilt in which he is involved, and which 
 liave rendered revelation necessary. 
 
 But — and it brings me to the last step of my ar- 
 
THE VIA MEDIA OF DEISM. 161 
 
 gument — if I accept the theory of the universe pro- 
 pounded by these writers, not only am I left without 
 any such approximate solutions, or, if that be thought 
 too strong a term, without any such alleviations, but all 
 the difficulties as regards the character, attributes, and 
 administration of God, are increased a thousand-fold. 
 The Scripture account of the "fall," — however inexpli- 
 cable it may be that God should have permitted it, — 
 yet does expressly assert that, somehow or other, it is 
 man's fauitj^ not God's J that man is not in his normal 
 condition, nor in the condition for which he was creat- 
 ed. Dark as are the clouds which envelop the Divine 
 Ruler, " their skirts are tinged with gold,- ' — pervaded 
 and penetrated throughout their dusky depths by that 
 mercy which assures us that, in some intelligible sense, 
 this condition of man is contrary to the Divine Will, 
 which, from the first, resolved to remedy it ; and that 
 a day is coming when what is mysterious shall be ex- 
 plained, — so far, at least, that what has been " wrong " 
 shall be " righted." But what is the theory of the uni- 
 verse propounded by these writers ? So hideous (I sol- 
 emnly declare it) that I feel ten times more compelled 
 to reject the universe as a work of an infinitely gracious, 
 wise, and powerful Creator, than if the difficulties had 
 been simply left where the Bible leaves them. Accord- 
 ing to their theory, man is now just what he was at 
 first, — as he came from his Creator's hand '^ or^ rather 
 in some parts of the world (thanks to himself though) 
 a little better than he was originally; that God cast 
 man forth, so constituted by the unhappy mal-admix- 
 ture of the elements of his nature, — with such an inev- 
 itable subjection of the " idea " to the " conception," of the 
 " spiritual faculty " to " the degraded types," — that for 
 unnumbered ages — for aught we know, myriads of ages 
 — man has been slowly crawling up, a very sloth in 
 
162 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 "progress" (poor beast!), from the lowest Fetichism to 
 Polytheism, — from Polytheism, in all its infinitude of 
 degrading forms, to imperfect forms of Monotheism ; and 
 how small a portion of the race have even imperfectly 
 reached this last term, let the spectacle of the world's 
 religions at the present moment proclaim ! From the 
 more imperfect forms of Monotheism, the race is grad- 
 ually to make " progress " to something else, — Heav- 
 en knows what! but certainly something still far below 
 the horizon, — still concealed in the illimitable future. 
 For this gradual transformation from the veriest relig- 
 ious grub into the spiritual Psyche, man was expressly 
 equipped by the constitution of his nature, — he was 
 created this grub. For all this truly geological spirit- 
 ualism, and for all the infinitude of hideous supersti- 
 tions and cruel wrongs involved in the course of this 
 precious development, Mr. Parker tells us there was a 
 necessity^ — nothing less ! It was necessary, no doubt, 
 for his logic, that he should say so ; but, apart from his 
 own argumentative exigencies, it is impossible even to 
 imagine any necessity whatever. It was an " ordeal," it 
 seems, through which man was obliged to pass. What 
 is all this, but to acknowledge the unaccountable na- 
 ture of the problem ? 
 
 With this " religious " theory admirably coincides 
 the hypothesis of man's having been originally creat- 
 ed a savag-e, from which he was gradually exalted to 
 the lowest stages of civilization, — a theory which I 
 thought had (in mere shame) been abandoned to some 
 few Deists of the last century, or the commencement 
 of this. It is true that these writers do not expressly 
 indorse it ; but it is easy to see that they favor it ; and 
 it is most certain that it alone is consistent with their 
 parallel theory of man's " religious development " from 
 the vilest Fetichism to (shall we say?) a mythical 
 
THE VIA MEDIA OF DEISM. 163 
 
 Christianity ; though even to that very few have yet 
 arrived. According to this theory, the Great Father 
 — supposed a being of infinite power, wisdom, and 
 goodness — threw his miserable offspring on the face 
 of the earth, with an admirable " absolute religion," no 
 doubt, .and an " admirable spiritual faculty," but the 
 *•' idea " so inevitably subject to thwarting " conceptions," 
 and the " spiritual faculty" so perpetually debauched by 
 " awe and reverence," and the whole rabble of emotions 
 and affections with which it was to keep company, — 
 in fact, with the elements of his nature originally so 
 ill poised and compounded, — that everywhere and for 
 unnumbered ages man has been doomed and necessi- 
 tated, and for unnumbered ages will be doomed and ne- 
 cessitated, to wallow in the most hideous, degrading, 
 cruel forms of superstition, — inflicting and suffering 
 reciprocally all the dreadful evils and wrongs which are 
 entailed by them. For this man was created; such a 
 thing he was, — through this " ordeal" he passes, — by 
 ^original destination. If this be the picture of the Fa- 
 ther of All, he is less kind to his offspring than the most 
 intimate " intuitions " teach them to be to theirs. The 
 voice of nature teaches them not to expose their chil- 
 dren ; the Universal Father, according to this theory, re- 
 morselessly exposed his I Such a God, projected by the 
 " spiritual faculties "of Mr. Newman and Mr. Parker, 
 may be imagined to be a more worthy object of wor- 
 ship than the "God of the Bible " : he shall never receive 
 mine. If I am to abjure the Bible because it gives me 
 unworthy conceptions of the Deity, I must, with more 
 reason, abjure, on similar grounds, such a detestable 
 theory of man's creation, destination, and history. 
 
 As to that " progress" which is promised for the /w- 
 ture^ it is like the necessity for the past, purely an in- 
 vention of Mr, Parker ; if I receive it, I must receive it 
 
164 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 simply as matter of prophecy. If the necessity has 
 continued so long, then, for aught I know, it may con- 
 tinue for ever; the evil is all too certain, — the bright 
 futurity is still a futurity. But if it ever became a re- 
 ality, it would not neutralize one of the dark imputa- 
 tions which such a theory of the original destination 
 and creation of man casts on the Divine character ; not 
 to say, that, if Mr. Newman's doubts of man's immor- 
 tality be well founded, that better future will be of no 
 more avail to the myriads of our race who have suf- 
 fered under the long iron regime of necessity, than a re- 
 prieve to the wretch who was executed yesterday ! 
 
 I told Harrington I must have a copy of the paper 
 he had just read. I should like, with his leave, to pub- 
 lish it. 
 
 - " O, and welcome," said he. " Only remember that 
 its tendency is to show that there is no tenable resting- 
 place between a revealed religion and none at all; be- 
 tween the Bible and scepticism. If you make men 
 sceptics, — mind, it is not my fault." 
 
 " I will take the risk," said I. " I wish the contro- 
 versy to be brought to the issue you have mentioned. 
 I know there will never be many sceptics, any more 
 than there will be many atheists ; and if men are con- 
 vinced that the Via Media is as hard to find as you sup- 
 pose, — or as that between Romanism and Protestant- 
 ism, — they will take refuge in the Bible. And if it 
 be the Book of God indeed, this is the issue to which 
 the great controversy will and ought to come. But 
 how is it you were not tempted to become an atheist 
 rather than a sceptic ? " 
 
 " Why," said he, with a smile, " the great master 
 of the Modern Academy had fortified me against that, 
 Hume, you know, confesses that, if men be discovered 
 
THE VIA MEDIA OF DEISM. 165 
 
 without any impression of a Deity, — genuine athe- 
 ists, — we may assume that they will be found the most 
 degraded of the species, and only one remove above the 
 brutes. Now I have no wish to be set down in that 
 category." 
 
 " Very different," said I, " is the account our modern 
 ttheists give of themselves : they are contending that 
 the banishment of God from the universe, by one or 
 other of the various theories of Atheism or Pantheism 
 (which I take to be the same thing, with different 
 names), is the tendency of all modern science, and that 
 when tliat science is perfect, God~wiTr~Be^ no more." 
 
 " My dear uncle," replied Harrington, " you are in- 
 sufficiently informed in the mystery of modern theol- 
 ogy. There are no atheists, properly speaking; they 
 who are so called merely deny any personal, conscious, 
 intelligent sovereign of the universe. Even those who 
 call themselves so, and will have it that they are so, are 
 told that they are none. I myself have perused state- 
 ments of some of our modern * spiritualists,' who know 
 every thing, even other people's consciousness quite as 
 well as their own (and perhaps better), that the said 
 atheists are mistaken in thinking themselves such ; that 
 such genuine love of the spirit of universal nature is 
 something truly divine, and that they are animated by 
 * a deeply religious spirit,' though they never suspected 
 it!" 
 
 " Well," said T, " if you had too much reason, as you 
 flattered yourself (adopting Hume's criterion), to be- 
 come an atheist, could you not have adopted such views 
 as those of Mr. G. Atkinson and Miss Martineau, who 
 both possess surely (as they claim to possess) that ' re- 
 ligious reverence ' of nature of which you have just 
 spoken ? " 
 
 " Why," he replied, " I am afraid that, if I had too 
 
166 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH*- 
 
 much reason for the one, I have not faith enough for 
 the other. That the miracles and prophecies of the 
 Bible may possibly have been true, — only the effect of 
 mesmerism ; — that things quite as wonderful, or more 
 so, happen every day by this wonderful agent ; — that 
 every phenomenon that takes place does so in virtue of 
 a perfectly wise law, without any wise lawgiver ; — 
 that this wise law has, it seems, prearranged that man 
 should generally exhibit an inveterate tendency to re- 
 ligious systems of some kind, though all religions are 
 absurd, and persist in believing in his free will, though 
 free from a downright impossibility ; — that these con- 
 tradictions and absurdities of man are the result of an 
 irreversible necessity^ and yet that Mr. Atkinson may 
 hope to correct them ; — that, by the same necessity, 
 man is in no degree culpable or responsible, and yet 
 that Mr. Atkinson may perpetually blame him; — that 
 no man can do any thing ' wrong,' and yet that till he 
 believes that^ man will never cease to do it ; — that peo- 
 ple may read without their eyes, and distinguish colors 
 as colors though they are born blind ; — that Bacon was 
 an atheist, and that this may be proved by induction 
 from his own writings ; — these and other paradoxes, 
 which I must believe, if I believe Mr. Atkinson, require 
 a faith which it would really be unreasonable to expect 
 from such a sceptic as I am." 
 
 July 18. Till three days ago, nothing since my last 
 date has occurred having any special relation to the 
 sole object of this journal. I was glad to escape on the 
 13th to a quiet church some miles off, and, after a plain 
 and simple, but earnest, sermon from a venerable cler- 
 gyman (of whom I should like to know a little more), 
 I further refreshed my spirit by a long and solitary 
 
167 
 
 ramble of some hours through the beautiful scenery in 
 the midst of which Harrington's dwelling is situated. 
 In the course of it, I reviewed my own early conflicts, 
 and augured from them happier days for my beloved 
 nephew. I went carefully over all the main points of 
 the argument for and against the truth of Christianity, 
 which in youth had so often occupied me, and resolved 
 that on some fair opportunity I would recount my 
 story to him and Mr. Fellowes. I little thought then 
 that I should have a larger and very miscellaneous 
 audience to listen to me. But this will account for 
 my not being to seek (as they say) when the occasion 
 presented itself. 
 
 Three days ago (the 15th) a queer company assem- 
 bled in Harrington's quiet house. The conversations 
 and incidents connected with that day have led me to 
 take refuge for the last two mornings in the solitude of 
 my own chamber, that I might, undisturbed, recall and 
 record them with as much accuracy and fulness as 
 possible. Very much, indeed, that I wished to remem- 
 ber has vanished ; but the substance of what too many 
 said, as well as what I said myself, made too deep an 
 impression to be easily obliterated. 
 
 Be it known to you, my dear brother, that I have 
 been not a little amused, I may even say instructed, by 
 a trick played by your madcap nephew, for the honor 
 and glory, I suppose, of his scepticism, or for some other 
 motive, not easily divined. He promised me signifi- 
 cantly an entertainment, in which I should ©njoy the 
 "feast of reason and the flow of sow/," by which I 
 little thought that he was going to collect a rare party 
 of " Rationalists " and " Spiritualists," in fact, repre- 
 sentatives of all the more prominent forms, whether of 
 belief or unbelief. I may as well call it the 
 
168 the eclipse of faith. 
 
 Sceptic's Select Party. '" '^^'•■'^ 
 
 You remember, I doubt not, the humorous paper in 
 the Spectator, in which Addison introduces the whim- 
 sical nobleman who used to invite to his table parties 
 of men (strangers to one another) all characterized by- 
 some similar personal defect or infirmity. On one oc- 
 casion, twelve wooden-legged men found themselves 
 stumping into his dining-room, one after another, and 
 making, of course, a terrible clatter ; on another, twelve 
 guests, who all had the misfortune to squint, amused 
 their host with their ludicrous cross lights ; and on a 
 third, the same number of stutterers entertained him 
 still more, not only by their uncouth impediment, but 
 by the anger with which they began to sputter at one 
 another, on the supposition that each was mocking his 
 neighbor. A short-hand writer, behind the scenes, was 
 employed to take down the conversation, which, says 
 the witty essayist, was easily done, inasmuch as one of 
 the gentlemen was a quarter of an hour in saying " that 
 the ducks and green peas were very good," and anothei 
 almost an equal time in assenting to it. At the conclu- 
 sion, however, the derided guests became aware of the 
 trick their entertainer had played upon them ; and from 
 their hands, quicker than their tongues, he was obliged 
 to make a precipitate retreat. Our dinner-party of yes- 
 terday did not break up in any such fracas, nor was the 
 conversation so unhappily restricted. Yet the company 
 was hardly better assorted. To bring it together, Har- 
 rington ransacked his immediate circle, and Fellowes 
 unconsciously recruited for him in the university town. 
 Our host had provided for our mutual edification an 
 Italian gentleman, with whom he had had some pleas- 
 ant intercourse on the Continent, (by the way he spoke 
 English uncommonly well,) and now staying with a 
 
Roman Catholic in the neighborhood; this gentleman 
 himself, with whom Harrington, by means of his former 
 friend, has knocked up an acquaintance (he is a liberal 
 Catholic of the true British species) ; our acquaintance, 
 Feliowes, with his love of " insight " and " spiritual- 
 ism '*' ! a young surgeon from , a rare, perhaps 
 
 unique, specimen of conversion to certain crude atheis- 
 tical speculations o^" Mr. Atkinson and Miss Martineau; 
 a young Englishman (an acquaintance of Harring- 
 ton's) just fresh from Germany, after sundry semesters 
 at Bonn and Tubingen, five hundred fathoms deep in 
 German philosophy, and who hardly came once to the 
 surface during the whole entertainment; three Ra- 
 tionalists (acquaintances of Feliowes), standing at 
 somewhat different points in the spiritual thermome- 
 ter, one a devoted advocate of Strauss : add to these a 
 Deist, no unworthy representative of the old English 
 school ; one or two others further gone still ; a Roman 
 Catholic priest, an admirer of Father Newman, who 
 therefore believes every thing ; our sceptical friend Har- 
 rington, who believes nothing; and myself, still fool 
 enough to believe the Bible to be " divine," — and you 
 will acknowledge that a more curious party never sat 
 down to edify one another with their absurdities and 
 contradictions. 
 
 Questionable as was the entertainment for the mind, 
 that for the body was unexceptionable. The dinner 
 was excellent ; our host performed his duties with ad- 
 mirable tact and grace; and somehow speedily put 
 every body at his ease. Relieved, according to the 
 judicious modern mode, of the care of supplying the 
 plates of his guests, he had eye, ear, and tongue for 
 every one, and leisure to direct the conversation into 
 what channel he pleased. He took care to turn it for 
 some time on indifferent topics ; and each man lost his 
 
 15 
 
170 
 
 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 reserve and his frigidity almost before he was aware; 
 so that, by the time dinner was fairly over, every one 
 was ready for animated conversation. If any one began 
 to have queer suspicions of his neighbors, he felt, as on 
 board ship, that he was in for it, and bound, by common 
 politeness, to make the best of it. 
 
 The Deist, addressing himself to the Italian gentle- 
 man, asked him if he had heard lately from Italy. He 
 replied in the negative. 
 
 " I can tell you some news, then," said he. " They 
 say that the head of the illustrious Guicciardini family 
 has been just imprisoned at Florence, having been de- 
 tected reading in Diodati's Bible a chapter in the Gos- 
 pel of St. John. Supposing the fact true, for a moment, 
 may I ask if it would be the wish of the Roman Cath- 
 olic Church, were she to regain her power in England, 
 to imprison every one who was found reading a chap- 
 ter in John? If so, England would have to enlarge 
 her prisons." 
 
 " Not much," said one of the Rationalist gentlemen, 
 laughing ; " for if things go on as they have done, there 
 will not, in a few years, be many who will be found 
 reading a chapter in John." 
 
 " Perhaps so," said Harrington, smiling, " but, if for 
 the reason you would assign, few will be found in 
 church either; and the ecclesiastical authorities might 
 perhaps put you in prison for that instead." 
 
 " O, I will answer for him ! " said the Deist, who 
 knew something of his plasticity ; " our friend is very 
 accommodating, and though he would not like to go to 
 church, he would still less like to go to prison. And to 
 church he would go ; and look very devout into the bar- 
 gain. But, however, I should like to hear what your 
 Italian guest has to say to my question." 
 
 The impatience of the English Catholic could not be 
 repressed. 
 
A SCEPTIC'S SELECT PARTY. 
 
 171 
 
 -«« If," said he, " the Roman Catholic religion were to 
 regain its ascendency to-morrow, it would leave our 
 entire code of laws, liberties, and privileges just as it 
 found them ; it is one of the many calumnies with 
 which our Church is continually treated, to say that she 
 would act otherwise ; and were it not so, I would im- 
 mediately desert her." 
 
 The Catholic priest did not look well pleased with 
 this frank avowal. 
 
 " I quite believe you," said our host. " I believe you 
 are too much of an Englishman to say or to act other- 
 wise." 
 
 " So do I," said the Deist ; " I moreover agree with 
 you, that, if the Roman Catholic religion were to regain 
 her ascendency to-morrow, she would leave all our 
 privileges intact ; but would she the next day, and the 
 day after that ? In other words, is it an essential prin- 
 ciple with her to persecute, — as in this instance, to 
 imprison for peeping between the leaves of the Bible, — 
 or is it not? Do you think, Signor, that in such acts 
 the principles of your Church are complied with or 
 violated?" 
 
 The Italian gentleman looked perplexed ; he pre- 
 sumed that the Catholic Church complied with the 
 actual laws of every country ; and if such country 
 chose to deny religious liberty, the Church did not deem 
 it requisite to declare opposition. 
 
 " I fear that is no answer to my question," cried the 
 other, a little cavalierly. " It cannot serve you, Signor. 
 It would not, indeed, serve you anywhere, for we 
 know the anxiety with which Rome has expressly se- 
 cured, in her recent concordat with Spain, the recogni- 
 tion of the most intolerant maxims. But least can it 
 serve you in the Papal States, where, unluckily for your 
 observation, the Pope is monarch. Your remark would 
 
172 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 imply that your Church favored the principles of relig- 
 ious liberty rather than otherwise, but did not deem it 
 right to oppose the will of civil governments. Are we 
 to understand by that, that the chief of the Papal States 
 abhors as a Pope what he does as a sovereign 1 that 
 in the one capacity he protests against what he allows 
 in the other? No, no," continued this somewhat 
 brusque assailant, " It is too late to talk in that way. If 
 the Church of Rome really approve of religious liberty, 
 — of such principles as those which govern England, — 
 where are her protests and her efforts against intoler- 
 ance and persecution where she still retains power? 
 It is the least that humanity can expect of her. If not, 
 let her plainly say that, when she regains power in 
 England, she will reform us to the condition of Spain 
 and Italy in this matter. For my part, I frankly ac- 
 knowledge, that I have more respect for a Roman Cath- 
 olic who proclaims that it is inconsistent for his Church 
 to tolerate where it has the power to repress^ because I 
 see that that is her uniform practice, and therefore ought 
 to be her avowed maxim." 
 
 The Roman Catholic priest, who is a devoted admirer 
 of Father Newman, said that he thought so too ; and 
 quoted some candid recent admissions to that effect 
 from certain English Roman Catholic periodicals. " To 
 employ," said he, " the very words of a recent convert 
 to us from the Anglican Church, ' The Church of Rome 
 may say, I cannot tolerate you ; it is inconsistent with 
 my principles ; but you can tolerate me, for it is not 
 inconsistent with yours.' " 
 
 The Deist remarked that it was straightforward ; that 
 he admired it. " Though as an argument,^^ said he, "it 
 is much as if a robber should say to an honest man 
 on the king's highway, ' How advantageously I am 
 situated ! You cannot rob me, for it is inconsistent 
 
A sceptic's select party. 17^ 
 
 with your principles ; but I can rob you, for I have 
 none.' " iwi*t«in 
 
 Another of the company observed that he feared it 
 was in vain for the Church of Rome to contend that 
 she was favorable to freedom of opinion, in any degree 
 or form, so long as the " Index Expurgatorius " was in 
 existence, or such stringent means adopted to repress 
 the circulation and perusal of the Scriptures. 
 
 The liberal English Catholic again chafed at this 
 last indictment. " It was, " he said, " another of the 
 calumnies with which his Church was treated." 
 
 " Hardly a calumny, my good sir," replied the other, 
 " in the face of such facts as that which gave rise to 
 the present conversation, of the encyclical letters of 
 Pius VIL, Leo XII., Gregory XVI., and many other 
 Popes, and the well-known fact that it is impossible 
 to obtain in Rome itself a copy of the Scriptures, ex- 
 cept at an enormous price, and even then it must be 
 read by special license. Pardon me," he continued, 
 still addressing the English Catholic, " I mean nothing 
 offensive to you ; but neither I nor any other English 
 Protestant can consent to admit you sincerely liberal 
 English Roman Catholics to be in a condition to give 
 us the requisite information touching the maxims and 
 principles of your Church. You have been too long 
 accustomed to enjoy and revere religious liberty, not to 
 imagine your Church sympathizes with it ; you do not 
 realize what she is abroad ; and if you be sincere in con- 
 demning such acts as that which led to this conversa- 
 tion, as inconsistent with her genuine principles, why 
 the ominous silence of you and your co-religionists in 
 all such cases ? Where are your protests and efforts ? 
 How is it you do not denounce maxims and practices 
 so rife throughout Papal Christendom, since you say 
 you would denounce them, if it were attempted to real- 
 is* 
 
174 
 
 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. A 
 
 ize them here ? When you protest with one voice 
 against these things as inconsistent (so you say) with 
 the principles of your Churchy and as therefore deeply 
 dishonoring her, — whether your views on this point be 
 right or wrong, — we shall at least admit you to have a 
 title to give us an opinion on the subject." 
 
 *' Even then, though," said the Deist, " we may still 
 think it safer to consult the opinions, and, what is more, 
 the practices, of the vast majority of the Roman Catho- 
 lic Church, and her conduct in the countries in which 
 she holds undisputed sway, and therefore I am anxious 
 to hear whether the Signer would justify imprisonment 
 for reading the Bible." 
 
 Our host seemed to think that the conversation had 
 proceeded in this direction quite far enough ; aud lest 
 his foreign guest should be made uncomfortable by 
 these close inquiries, observed, sarcastically, that he 
 was glad to find that the querists were so anxious to 
 secure the inestimable privilege of freely reading the 
 Scriptures. " It is the more admirable," said he to the 
 last speaker, " as I am aware it is most disinterested ; 
 you having too little value for the Scriptures to read 
 them yourself. S>ic vos non vobis : you labor for others. 
 You remind me of the colloquy in the * Citizen of the 
 World,' between the debtor in jail and the soldier 
 outside his prison window. They were discussing, you 
 recollect, the chances of a French invasion. * For my 
 part,' cries the prisoner, * the greatest of my appre- 
 hensions is for our freedom ; if the French should con- 
 quer, what would become of English liberty ? ' ' It is 
 not so much our liberties,' says the soldier, with a pro- 
 fane oath, ' as our religion, that would suffer by such a 
 change ; ay, our religion, my lads ! ' " 
 
 The company laughed, and the assailants forgot the 
 former topics Our host went on further to encourage 
 
A sceptic's select party. 175 
 
 his foreign guest, though in a left-handed way, with a 
 gravity which, if I had not known him, would not only 
 have staggered, but even imposed upon me. 
 
 " For my part," said he, " my good Sir, if I were 
 you, I should not hesitate to acknowledge at once that 
 it is not only the true policy^ but the solemn duty^ of 
 the Church of Rome to seclude as much as possible the 
 Scriptures from the people." The gentleman looked 
 gratified, and the guests were all attention. " In my 
 judgment much more can be said on behalf of the prac- 
 tice than at first appears ; and if I sincerely believed 
 all you do, I should certainly advocate the most stringent 
 measures of repression." 
 
 The foreigner began to look quite at his ease. " For 
 example," continued Harrington, in a very quiet tone, 
 " supposing I believed, as you do, that the Holy Virgin 
 is entitled to all the honors which you pay her, so 
 that, as is well known, in Italy and other countries, 
 she even eclipses her Son, and is more eagerly and 
 fondly worshipped, — it would be impossible for me to 
 peruse the meagre accounts given in the New Testa- 
 ment of this so prominent an object of Catholic rever- 
 ence and worship, — to read the brief, frigid, not to say 
 harsh speeches of Christ, — to contemplate the stolid- 
 ity of the Apostles with regard to her, throughout their 
 Epistles, — never even mentioning her name, — I say 
 it would be impossible for me to read all this without 
 having the idea suggested that it was never intended 
 that I should pay her such homage as you demand for 
 her, or without feeling suspicious that the New Testa- 
 ment disowned it and knew nothing of it." 
 
 " Very true," said the Italian ; " I must say that I have 
 often felt that there is such a danger to myself." 
 
 " Similarly, what a shock would it perpetually be 
 to my deep reverence for the spiritual head of the 
 
176 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 Church, and my conviction of his undoubted inherit- 
 ance, from the Prince of the Apostles, of his august 
 prerogatives, to find no trace of such a personage as 
 the Pope in the sacred page, — the title of * Bishop of 
 Rome ' never whispered, — no hint given that Peter was 
 ever even there ! I really think it would be impossible 
 to read the book without feeling my flesh creep and my 
 heart full of doubt. Similarly, take that stupendous 
 mystery of * transubstantiation ' ; though it seems suflGi- 
 ciently asserted in one text, which therefore it were 
 well (as is, indeed, the practice with every pious Catho- 
 lic) continually to quote alone, yet, when I look into 
 other portions of the New Testament, I see how per- 
 petually Christ is employing metaphors equally strong, 
 without any such mystery being attached to them. I 
 cannot but feel that I and every other vulgar reader 
 ^ould be sure to be exposed to the peril of suspecting 
 that in that single case a metaphorical meaning was 
 much more probable than so great a mystery." 
 
 " You reason fairly, my dear Sir," said the Italian. 
 
 " 4-g^ii^)" continued Harrington, blandly bowing to 
 the compliment, " believing, as I should, in the efficacy 
 of the intercessions of the saints, in the worship of 
 images, in seven sacraments, in indulgences, and the 
 necessity of observing a ritual incomparably more elab- 
 orate than an undeveloped Christianity admitted, how 
 very, very apt I should be to misinterpret many pas- 
 sages, both in the Old Testament and the New ! How 
 is it possible that the vulgar reader should be able to 
 limit the command not to bow down * to ant/ graven 
 image ' to its true meaning, — that is, ^ to any image ' 
 except those of the Virgin and all the saints ; to inter- 
 pret aright the passages which speak so absolutely 
 about the one Mediator and Intercessor, when there are 
 thousands ! How will he be necessarily startled to find 
 
A sceptic's select party. 177 
 
 * seven ' sacraments grown out of ' two ' ! how will he 
 be shocked at the apparent — of course ow/y apparent 
 — contempt with which St. Paul speaks of ritual and 
 ceremonial matters, of the futility of ' fasts ' and dis- 
 tinctions of * meats and drinks,' of observing * days and 
 months and years,' and so on. His whole language, 
 I contend, would necessarily mislead the simple into 
 heresies innumerable. Of numberless texts, again, even 
 if the meaning were not mistaken, the true meaning 
 would never be discovered unless the Church had de- 
 clared it. Who, for example, would have supposed 
 that the doctrine of the Pope's supremacy and universal 
 jurisdiction lay hid under expressions such as * I say 
 unto thee that thou art Peter,' and * Feed my sheep ' ; 
 or that the two swords of the Prince of the Apostles 
 meant the temporal and spiritual authority with which 
 he was invested ? Under such circumstances, I must 
 say, that, if I were a devout Catholic, I should plead for 
 the absolute suppression of a book so infinitely likely — 
 nay, so necessarily certain — to mislead." 
 
 " It is precisely on that ground," said the Italian, 
 " and on that ground only, the welfare of the Church, 
 that our Holy Mother does not approve of the Bible 
 being read generally. The true theory of the Roman 
 Catholic Church would never be elicited from it." 
 
 " Precisely so," said our host, gravely ; " I am sure it 
 could not." 
 
 " But then," remarked our friend, the Deist, " since 
 the Church of Rome holds this book to be the inspired 
 revelation of God to mankind, is it not singular to say 
 that this * revelation ' requires to be carefully concealed 
 from mankind; that the Bible is invaluable, indeed, but 
 only while it is unread ; and that, in fact, the Church 
 knows herself better than Jesus Christ himself did? for 
 in that book we are supposed to have the words of 
 
178 THE ECLIPSE OP FAITH. 
 
 Him and her founders, and yet it seems they could only 
 mislead ! * Never man spake like this man/ may well 
 be said of Christ, if this were true." 
 
 " Never mind him, Signor," said our host. " He 
 secretly cannot but approve of your end^ though he dis- 
 approves the meansy The Deist looked surprised. 
 
 " Why, have you not sometimes said that you be- 
 lieve the Bible to be, in many respects, a most per- 
 nicious book? that many of the most obstinate and 
 dangerous prejudices of mankind Eire principally due 
 to it ? and that you wish it were in your power to de 
 stroy it ? " 
 
 " Well, I certainly have thought so, if not said so." 
 
 " Then you approve of the end, though you disap- 
 prove of the means. You ought to thank our friend 
 lere, and regret that his work is not done more effectu- 
 ally. But enough of this. I must not have my re- 
 spected Roman Catholic guests alone put on the de- 
 fensive. The Signor fairly tells us what his system is 
 in relation to the Bible, and why he would place it 
 under lock and key; he tells you also what better 
 +hing he substitutes when he removes the Bible. I 
 eally think it is but fair and candid in you to do as 
 much. I know you all believe that you are not only 
 in quest of religious truth, but have found it to some 
 extent or other: — for my own part I am exempted 
 from speaking ; for I have given over the search in 
 despair." 
 
 This frank acknowledgment was followed by some 
 highly curious conversation, of which I regret my in- 
 ability to recall all the particulars. Suffice it to say, 
 that there were not two who were agreed either as to 
 the grounds on which Christianity was deemed a thing 
 of naught, or on what was to be substituted in its 
 place ; one even had his doubts whether any thing need 
 
A SCEPTIC'S SELECT PARTY. 179 
 
 be substituted, and another thought that any thing 
 might be. One of the Rationalists was a little offended 
 at being supposed willing to " abandon " the Bible at 
 all ; he declared, on the contrary, his unfeigned rever- 
 ence for the New Testament at least, as containing, in 
 larger mass and purer ore than any other book in the 
 world, the principles of ethical truth; that he was will- 
 ing even to admit — with exquisite naivete — that it 
 was inspired in the same sense in which Plato's Dia- 
 logues and the Koran were inspired; he merely dis- 
 pensed with all that was supernatural and miraculous 
 and mystical! The Deist laughed, and told him that 
 he believed just as much, if that constituted a Chris- 
 tian. " I believe," said he, " that the New Testament 
 is quite as much inspired as the Koran of Mahomet; 
 and that it contains more of ethical truth (however it 
 came there) than is to be found in any other book of 
 equal bulk. But," he proceeded, " if you dispense with 
 all that is miraculous in the facts, and all that is pecu- 
 liar and characteristic in the doctrines, — that is, all 
 which discriminates Christianity from any other relig- 
 ion, — I am afraid that your Christianity is own born 
 brother to my Infidelity. As for your reverence for this 
 inspired book, since you must reject ninety per cent, of 
 the whole, it seems to me very gratuitous ; equally so^ 
 whether you suppose the compilers believed or disbe- 
 lieved the facts and doctrines you reject ; if the former, 
 and they were deceived, they must have been inspired 
 idiots ; if the latter, and were deceiving others, they 
 were surely inspired knaves. For my part," he con- 
 tinued, " while I hold that the book somehow does 
 unaccountably contain more of the morally true and 
 beautiful than any book of equal extent, I also hold 
 that Christianity itself is a pure imposture from begin- 
 ning to end." 
 
180 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 This coarse avowal of adherence to the elder, and, 
 after all, more intelligible deism, brought down upon 
 him at once two of the company. One was the dis- 
 ciple of Strauss (I mean as regards his theory of the 
 origin of Christianity, not as regards his Pantheism) ; 
 the other a Rationalist, with about the same small tat- 
 ters of Christianity fluttering about him, but who was 
 a little disposed, like so many German theologians, to 
 consider Strauss as somewhat passe. Unhappily, they 
 got athwart each other's bows shortly after they came 
 into action. They both enlarged — really in a very 
 edifying manner, I could have listened to them for 
 an hour — on the absurdity of the Deist's argument 
 " What ! " cried one ; " the purest system of ethics 
 from the most shameless impostors ! " " And what do 
 you make of the infinitely varied and inimitable marks 
 of simplicity and honesty in the writers ? " cried the 
 other. " And who does not see the impossibility of 
 getting up the miracles so as to impose upon a world of 
 bitter and prejudiced enemies in open day?" exclaimed 
 the Rationalist. " They were obviously mere myths," 
 cried the Straussian. " That I must beg to doubt," 
 said the other. And now, as they proceeded to give 
 each his own solution of the difficulty, the scene be- 
 came comic in the extreme. The Rationalist ridiculed 
 the notion that nations and races, all of whom, in the 
 nature of things, must have been prejudiced against 
 such myths as those of Christianity, could originate or 
 would believe them ; and still more, the notion that in 
 so short a space of time these wildest of wild legends 
 (if legends at all) could induce the world to acquiesce 
 in them as historic realities ! In his zeal he even said, 
 that, though not altogether satisfied with it, he would 
 sooner believe all the frigid glosses by which the school 
 of Paulus had endeavored to resolve the miracles into 
 
misunderstood " natural phenomena." As the dispute 
 became more animated between these three champions, 
 they exhibited a delicate trait of human nature, which 
 I saw our sceptical host most maliciously enjoyed. 
 Each became more anxious to prove that his mode of 
 proving Chiistianity false was the true mode, than to 
 prove the falsehood of Christianity itself. " I tell you 
 what," said the Straussian, with some warmth, " sooner 
 than believe all the absurdities of such an hypothesis 
 as that of Paulus, I could believe Christianity to be 
 what it professes to be." " I may say the same of that 
 of Strauss," said the other, with equal asperity; "if I 
 had no better escape than his, I could say to him, as 
 Agrippa to Paul, * Almost thou persuadest me to be a 
 Christian.' " " For my part," exclaimed the Deist, who 
 was perfectly contented with his brief solution, — the 
 difficulties of the problem he had never had the patience 
 to master, — "I should rather say, as Festus to Paul, 
 * Much learning has made you both mad': and sooner 
 than believe the impossibilities of the theory of either, — 
 sooner than suppose men honestly and guilelessly to 
 have misled the world by a book which you and I ad- 
 mit to be a tissue of fables, legends, and mystical non- 
 sense, — I could almost find it in my heart to go over 
 to the Pope himself." 
 
 " Good," whispered our host to me, who sat at his 
 left hand; "we shall have them all becoming Chris- 
 tians, by and by, just to spite one another." The 
 admirer of Mr. Atkinson and Miss Martineau here 
 reminded the company that the miracles of the New 
 Testament might be true, — only the result of mesmer- 
 ism. " Christ," said he, " to employ the words of Mr. 
 
 Atkinson, was constitutionally a clairvoyant 
 
 Prophecy and miracle and inspiration are the effects 
 of abnormal conditions of man Prophecy, clair- 
 
 16 
 
182 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 voyance, healing by touch, visions, dreams, revelations, 
 .... are now knoicn to be simple matters in nature, 
 which may be induced at will, and experimented upon 
 at our firesides, here in England (climate and other 
 circumstances permitting), as well as in the Holy 
 Land." * But no one seemed prepared to receive this 
 hypothesis. At last our host, addressing the Deist, 
 said, " But you forget, Mr. M., that, though you find it 
 insurmountably difficult to conceive a book full of lies 
 (as you express it) to have been, consciously or uncon- 
 sciously, the product of honest and guileless minds, 
 you ought to find it a little difficult to conceive a book 
 (as you admit the New Testament to be) of profound 
 moral worth produced by shameless impostors. But 
 let that pass. Let us assume that Christianity, as a 
 supernaturally revealed and miraculously authenticated 
 system, is false, though you are dolefully at variance as 
 to how it is to be proved so ; let us assume, I say, that 
 this system is false, and dismiss it. I am much more 
 anxious to hear what is the positive system of religious 
 truth, which you are of course each persuaded is the 
 true one. I have left off to ^ seek,' but if any one will 
 find the truth for me without my * seeking' it, how re- 
 joiced shall I be!" 
 
 Painful as were the " revelations " which ensued, I 
 would not have missed them on any account. " In vino 
 veritas,^^ says the proverb which on this occasion lied 
 most vilely ; yet it was true in the only sense in which 
 " Veritas " is there used ; for there was unbounded can- 
 dor and frankness, under the inspiring hospitality of 
 our host, aided by his skilful management of the con- 
 versation. Nor was there, I am bound to say, much 
 of coarse ribaldry, even from the free-spoken repre- 
 
 * He cited the substance of these sentiments. I have since referred to, 
 and here quote, the ipsissima verba. See "Letters," &c., pp. 175, 212. 
 
183 
 
 sentative of the Tindals and Woolstons of other days. 
 But the varieties of judgment and opinion in that 
 small company were almost numberless. Fellowes, )y| 
 and two of the Rationalists, were firm believers in the ' j 
 theory of " insight " ; that the human spirit derives, by 
 immediate intuition from the " depths " of its conscious- ^ 
 ness, a " revelation of religious and spiritual truth." 
 They differed, however, as to several articles ; but es- 
 pecially as to the little point, whether the fact of man's 
 future existence was amongst the intimations of man's 
 religious nature ; one contending that it was, another 
 that it was not, and Fellowes, as usual, with several 
 more of the company, declaring that their conscious- 
 ness told them nothing about the matter either way. 
 But when some one further declared, amidst these 
 very disputes, that this internal revelation was so clear 
 and plain as not only to anticipate and supersede any 
 "external" revelation, but to render it "impossible" 
 to be given, our host suddenly broke out into a fit of 
 laughter. The disputants were silent, and every one 
 looked to him for an explanation. He seemed to feel 
 that it was due, and, after apologizing for his rude- 
 ness, said, that, while some of them were asserting man's 
 clear internal revelation, he could not help thinking of 
 the whimsical contrast presented by the diversified 
 speculations and opinions of even this little party, and 
 the infinitely more whimsical contrast presented by the 
 gross delusions of polytheism and superstition, which in 
 such endless variations of form and unchanging identity 
 of folly had misled the nations of the earth for so many 
 thousands of years. "And just then," said he, "it 
 occurred to me what a curious commentary it would 
 be on the asserted unity and sufficiency of * internal 
 revelation,' if the < Great Exhibition of the Industry 
 of all Nations ' were followed up by a * Great Exhibi- 
 
184 
 
 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 tion of the Idolatry of all Nations ' under the same roof. 
 Thither n ight be brought specimens of the ingenious 
 handicraft of men in the manufacture of deities ; we 
 might have the whole process, in all its varieties, com- 
 plete ; the raw material of a God in a block of stone or 
 wood, and the most finished specimen in the shape of a 
 Phidian Jupiter ; the countless bits of trumpery which 
 Fetichism has ever consecrated; the divine monsters 
 of ancient Egypt, and the equally divine monsters 
 of modern India ; the infinite array of grim deformities 
 hallowed by American, Asiatic, and African super- 
 stition. I imagined, notwithstanding the vastness of 
 that Crystal Pantheon, there would still be crowds of 
 their godships who would be obliged to wait outside, 
 having come too late to exhibit their perfections to ad- 
 vantage. However, as I went in fancy up the long 
 aisles, and saw, to the right and the left, the admiring 
 crowds of worshippers, grimacing, and mowing, and 
 prostrating themselves, with a folly which might lead 
 one reasonably to suppose, that, miserable as were the 
 gods, they were gods indeed compared with such wor- 
 shippers, I imagined my worthy friend Fellowes in the 
 corner where the Bible, in its 120 languages, is now 
 kept, employed in delivering a lecture on the admirable 
 clearness of those intuitions of spiritual truth which 
 constitute each man's particular oracle, and the super- 
 fluity of all * external ' revelation. This was, I confess, 
 a little too much for my gravity, and I was involunta- 
 rily guilty of the rudeness for which I now apologize." 
 It was certainly a ridiculous vision enough ; and we 
 made ourselves very merry by pursuing it for a little 
 while. 
 
 Presently the company resumed their solutions of the 
 great problem. The Deist remarked, " that one and 
 only one thing was plain, and indubitable," — for he 
 
186 
 
 was a dogmatist in his way ; — it was, " that intellect 
 and power to an indefinite extent had been at work in 
 the universe, but whether the Being to whom these 
 attributes belonged took any cognizance of man, or his 
 actions, he had never been able to make up his mind." 
 " Yet surely it does make a slight difference," said Har- 
 rington, " since if God takes no cognizance of man, 
 then, as Cicero long ago remarked of the idle dogs of 
 Epicurus, — I mean gods of Epicurus, I beg their par- 
 don, but really it does not matter which consonant 
 comes first, — atheism and deism are much the same 
 thing." " Why," said the Deist, " there is as much dif- 
 ference as in the theories of our * intuitional ' friends 
 here, one of whom admits, and another denies, the 
 future existence of man ; for if we be the ephemeral 
 insects the latter supposes, it little matters what system 
 of religion we espouse or abjure. However, I am clear 
 that, if God require any duty of us, it is that we should 
 reverence him as the Creator of all things, — prayer to 
 him is an absurdity, — and perform those offices of 
 honest men which are so clearly the dictates of con- 
 science, — the reward and punishment being exclusively 
 the result of present laws.^^ 
 
 " Which laws," said his next neighbor, " often secure 
 no reward or punishment at all, — or rather, often give 
 the reward to the vice of man, and the punishment to 
 his virtue." " Very true," rejoined the Deist, " and I 
 must say," — sagely shaking his head, — "that such 
 things make me often suspect the whole of that slippery, 
 uncertain thing called ' natural religion,* whether as 
 taught by the elder deists or modified by our modern 
 spiritualists. Surely they may be abundantly charged 
 with the same faults with which they tax the Christian ; 
 for they are full of interminable disputes about the 
 * truths or * sentiments ' of their theology." 
 
 16* 
 
186 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. * 
 
 One of those who had gone further than our Deist 
 felt disposed to question all " immutable morality " and 
 original " dictates of conscience." " I doubt,^^ said he, 
 <^ whether those dictates are any clearer than those 
 dogmas of ' natural religion ' which have been so justly 
 'oppugned; and I judge so for the same reason, — the 
 endless disputes of men with regard to the source, 
 the rule, the obligation of what they call duty ; and 
 which are exactly similar to the disputes which we 
 charge upon the Natural Religionist and the Christian." 
 And here he ran through half a dozen of the two score 
 theories which the history of ethics presents, making 
 rare work with Plato and Aristotle, Hobbes, Cud worth, 
 Mandeville, and Bentham. " Meantime," he conclud- 
 ed, " we do see, in point of fact, that the moral rule is 
 most flexible, and to an indetermitiate degree the creature 
 of association, custom, and education, so that I am in- 
 clined to think that that alone is obligatory which the 
 positive laws and institutions of any society render 
 binding." " So that," cried Harrington, " a man both 
 may and ought to thieve in ancient Sparta, may expose 
 his parents in Hindostan, and commit infanticide in 
 China ! " " It is a pity," archly whispered the Italian 
 guest, *< that this gentleman was not born in China." 
 
 " It is a respectable, but very old speculation," said 
 Harrington, " of which many ancient moralists avowed 
 themselves the advocates, but of which it is only fair to 
 admit that Plato and many other heathens were heartily 
 ashamed." 
 
 It seemed as if the bathos of theological and ethical 
 absurdity could not lie deeper ; but I was mistaken. 
 The admirer of Mr. Atkinson declared with great mod- 
 esty that he thought, as did his favorite author, that the 
 whole world had been mad on the subject of theology 
 and morality ; — that the prime error consisted in the 
 
A sceptic's select party. 187 
 
 superficial notion of a Personal Deity, and the foolish 
 attribution of the notion of " sin " and " crime " to 
 human motives and conduct, instead of regarding the 
 former as a name of an absolutely unknown cause of 
 the entire phenomena of the universe, and the latter as 
 part of a series of rigidly necessary antecedents and 
 consequents, for which man is no more to be either 
 blamed or praised than the sun for shining or the ava- 
 lanche for falling; he added, that only in this way could 
 man attain peace. " As Mr. Atkinson beautifully says, 
 
 * What a hopeful and calming influence has such a con- 
 templation of nature! At this moment it is not I, but 
 the nature within me, that dictates my speech and 
 guides my pen. I am what I am. I cannot alter my 
 will, or be other than what I am, and cannot deserve 
 either reward or punishment.' But I feel with him, 
 
 * We may preach these things, and men may think us 
 mad or something worse.' " * 
 
 " And perhaps justly," said Harrington, with a laugh, 
 " for nature has surely, after so many thousands of 
 years, let you know what her laiu is, and you say that 
 that law is necessary and irreversible, and yet you 
 strive to alter it! You had better leave men to their 
 necessary absurdities." 
 
 " Nay," said the other, " as Mr. Atkinson says, from 
 the recognition of a universal law we shall develop a 
 universal love ; the disposition and ability to love with^ 
 out offence or ill-feeling towards any; or, as Miss 
 Martineau represents it, — WhrnLj^i^ miiid has com- 
 pletely surmounted every idea of a personal God, of 
 a supreme will, *what repose begins to pervade the 
 mind ! What clearness of moral purpose naturally en^ 
 sues ! and what healthful activity of the moral facull 
 
 * Pp. 190, 191. 
 
188 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 ties / * What a new perception we obtain of the 
 
 "beauty of holiness," — the loveliness of a healthful 
 moral condition, — accordant with the laws of nature, 
 and not with the requisitions of theology ! '" f 
 
 I got him afterwards to show me these passages, for 
 I could hardly believe that he had quoted them right. 
 
 " And as for morality," continued he, *' the knowl- 
 edge which mesmerism gives of the influence of body on 
 body, and consequently of mind on mind, will bring 
 about a morality we have not yet dreamed of. And 
 who shall disguise his nature and his acts when we 
 cannot be sure at any moment that we are free from 
 the clairvoyant eye of some one who is observing oui 
 actions and most secret thoughts ; and our whole char- 
 acter and history may be read off at any moment!" % 
 
 What an admirable substitute, thought I, for the 
 idea of an omnipresent and omniscient Deity ! Who 
 will not abstain from lying and stealing when he thinks 
 there is possibly some clairvoyant at the antipodes in 
 mesmeric rapport with his own spirit, and perhaps, by 
 the way, in very sympathizing rapport^ if the clairvoy- 
 ant happen to be in Australia ? 
 
 It was at this point that our young friend from 
 Germany broke in. "I hold that you are right. Sir," 
 he said to the last speaker, " in saying that God is not 
 a person; but then it is because, as Hegel says, he 
 is personality itself^ — the universal personality which 
 realizes itself in each human consciousness, as a sepa- 
 rate thought of the one eternal mind. Our idea of the 
 absolute is the absolute itself; apart from and out of 
 the universe, therefore, there is no God." 
 
 " I think we may grant you that," said Harrington, 
 laughing. 
 
 • P 219 t P. 219. t H. G. A. to H. M., p. 280. 
 
189 
 
 " Nor," continued the other, " is there any God apart 
 from the universal consciousness of man. He " 
 
 " Ought you not to say it 7 " said Harrington. 
 
 " 7/J, then," said our student, " is the entire process 
 of thought combining in itself the objective movement 
 in nature with the logical subjective, and realizing itself 
 in the spiritual totality of humanity. He (or it, if you 
 will) is the eternal movement of the universal, ever 
 raising itself to a subject, which first of all in the sub- 
 ject comes to objectivity and a real consistence, and 
 accordingly absorbs the subject in its abstract individ- 
 uality. God is, therefore, not a person, but personality 
 itself." 
 
 Nobody answered, for nobody understood. 
 
 "Q. E. D.," said Harrington, with the utmost gravity* 
 
 Thus encouraged, our student was going on to show 
 how much more clear Hegel's views are than those of 
 Schelling. " The only real existence," he said, " is the 
 relation ; subject and object, which seem contradictory, 
 are really one, — not one in the sense of Schelling, as 
 opposite poles of the same absolute existence, but one 
 as the relation itself forms the very iaea. Not but 
 what in the threefold rhythm of universal existence 
 there are affinities with the three potencies of Schel- 
 Hng ; but " 
 
 " Take a glass of wine," said Harrington to his 
 young acquaintance, " take a glass of w4ne, as the 
 Antiquary said to Sir Arthur Wardour, when he was 
 trying to cough up the barbarous names of his Pictish 
 ancestors, * and wash down that bead-roll of unbaptized 
 jargon which would choke a dog.' " 
 
 We laughed, for we could not help it. 
 
 Our young student looked offended, and muttered 
 something about the inaptitude of the English for a 
 deep theosophy and philosophy. 
 
190 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 " It is all very well," said he, " Mr. Harrington ; but 
 it is not in this way that the profound questions which, 
 under some aspects, have divided such minds as Fichte, 
 Schelling, and Hegel ; and under others, Goschel, Hin- 
 
 richs, Erdmann, Marheineke, Schaller, Gabler " 
 
 Harrington burst out laughing. " They divide a 
 good many philosophers of that last name in England 
 also," said he. 
 
 " Why, what have I said ? " replied the other, looking 
 surprised and vexed. 
 
 " Nothing at all," said Harrington, still laughing. 
 " Nothing that I know of; I am sure I may with truth 
 affirm it. But I beg your pardon for laughing ; only I 
 could not help it, at finding you like so many other 
 young philosophers born of German theology and phi- 
 losophy, attempting to frighten me by a mere roll-call 
 of formidable names. Why, my friend, it is because 
 1 these things have, as you say, divided these great minds 
 / so hopelessly, that I am in difficulty ; if the philosophers 
 j had agreed about them, it would have been another 
 story. One would think, to hear them invoked by 
 many a youth here, that these powerful minds had con- 
 vinced one another; instead of that, they have simply 
 confounded one another. It was the very spectacle of 
 their interminable disputes and distractions in philoso- 
 phy and theology, — ever darker and darker, deeper 
 and deeper, as system after system chased each other 
 / away, like the clouds they resemble through a winter 
 sky ; — I say it was the very spectacle of their distrac- 
 tions which first made me a sceptic ; and I think I am 
 ' hardly likely to be reconvinced by the mere sound of 
 their names, ushered in by vague professions of pro- 
 found admiration of their profundity! The praise is 
 often oddly justified by citing something or other, 
 which, obscure enough in the original, is absolute dark- 
 
191 
 
 ness when translated into English; and must, like 
 some versions I have seen of the classics, be examined 
 in the original, in order to gain a glimpse of its mean- 
 ing." 
 
 The student acknowledged that there was certainly 
 much vague admiration and pretension amongst young 
 Englishmen in this matter; but thought that pro- 
 founder views were to be gathered from these sources 
 than was generally acknowledged. 
 
 " Very well," replied Harrington ; " I do not deny 
 it, perhaps it is so ; and whenever you choose to justify 
 that opinion by expressing in intelligible English the 
 special views of the special author you think thus 
 worthy of attention, whether he be from Germany or 
 Timbuctoo, I humbly venture to say that I will (so far 
 from laughing) examine them with as much patience as 
 yourself. But if you wish to cure me of laughing, I 
 beseech you to refrain from all vague appeals to whole- 
 sale authority. 
 
 " The most ludicrous circumstance, however," he 
 continued, " connected with this German mania is, that 
 in many cases our admiring countrymen are too late 
 in changing their metaphysical fashions ; so that they 
 sometimes take up with rapture a man whom the Ger- 
 mans are just beginning to cast aside. Our servile 
 imitators live on the crumbs that fall from the German 
 table, or run off with the well-picked bone to their ken- 
 nel, as if it were a treasure, and growl and show their 
 teeth to any one that approaches them, in very super- 
 fluous terror of being deprived of it. It would be 
 well if they were to imitate the importers of Parisian 
 fashions, and let us know what is the philosophy or 
 theology a la mode^ that we may not run a chance of 
 appearing perfect frights in the estimate even of the 
 Germans themselves." 
 
192 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 Coffee was here brought in ; and Harrington said, 
 " Thank you, gentlemen, for your candor, though your 
 unanimity does not seem very admirable. In one sen- 
 timent, indeed, you are pretty well agreed, — that the 
 Bible is to be discarded ; though you are infinitely at 
 variance, as to the grounds on which you think so ; our 
 Catholic friends deeming it too precious to be intrusted 
 to every body's hands, and the rest of you, as a gift not 
 worth receiving. But as to the systems you would 
 substitute in its place, they are so portentously various 
 • that they are hardly likely to cure vie of my scepticism ; 
 nor even my worthy relative here " — pointing to me — 
 " of his old-fashioned orthodoxy. He will say, ' Much 
 as we theologians differ as to the interpretation of 
 Scripture, our differences are neither so great nor so 
 formidable as those of these gentlemen. I had better 
 remain where I am.' " 
 
 Several of the guests stared at me as they would at 
 the remains of a megatherium. 
 
 " Is it possible," said one at last, " that you. Sir, can 
 retain a belief in the divine inspiration of the Bible, — 
 excluding incidental errors of transcription and so on ? " 
 
 " It is not only possible," said I, " but certain." 
 
 " Do you mean," said the other, " that you can give 
 satisfactory answers to the objections which can be 
 brought against various parts of it ? " 
 
 " By no means," said I ; " while I think that many 
 may be wholly solved, and more, partially, I admit there 
 are some which are altogether insoluble." 
 
 " Then why, in the name of wonder, do you retain 
 
 your belief? " 
 
 ^ " Because I think that the evidence for retaining it 
 
 / I is, on the whole, stronger than the evidence for relin- 
 
 / / quishing it ; that is, that the objections to admitting 
 
 / / the objections are stronger than the objections them- 
 
 ^-~- -«elves." 
 
A sceptic's select party. 198 
 
 " But how do you manage in a controversy with an 
 opponent as to those insoluble objections ? " 
 
 « I admit them." 
 
 " Then you allow his position to be more tenable and 
 reasonable than yours ? " 
 
 " No," said I ; " I take care of thaV 
 
 « How so ? " 
 
 " I transfer the war, my good Sir ; a practice which 
 I would recommend to most Christians in these days. 
 When I meet with an opponent of the stamp you refer 
 to, who thinks insoluble objections alone are suffi- 
 cient reasons for rejecting any thing, I say to him, ' My 
 friend, this Christianity, if so clearly false, is not 
 worth talking about: let us quit it. But as you admit, 
 with me, that religious truth is of great moment, and as 
 you think you have it, pray oblige me by your system.* 
 To tell you the truth, I never found any difficulty in 
 propounding plenty of insoluble objections ; but if you 
 think differently, you or any gentleman present can 
 make experiment of the matter now." 
 
 " Nay, my dear uncle," said Harrington, " you are 
 invading my province. It is I only who can consist- 
 ently challenge all comers ; like the ancient Scythians, 
 I have every thing to gain and nothing to lose." 
 
 Whether it was out of respect for the host, or that 
 each felt, after the recent disclosures, that he would not 
 only have Harrington and myself, but every body else, 
 down upon him, nobody accepted this challenge. 
 
 At last one of them said he could not even yet 
 comprehend how it was that I could remain an old- 
 fashioned believer in these days of " progress." " It 
 was infidelity itself," I replied, " that early robbed me 
 of the advantages of being an infidel." 
 
 Several expressed their surprise, and I told them that, 
 after we had taken tea in the drawing-room (to which 
 17 
 
194 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 we were then summoned), I would, if they felt any cu- 
 riosity upon the matter, and would allow a little scope 
 to the garrulity of an old man, tell them 
 
 How IT WAS THAT InFIDELITY PREVENTED MY 
 BECOMING AN InFIDEL. 
 
 After tea I gave my story, as nearly as I can recol- 
 lect, in the following way. Of course I cannot recall the 
 precise words; but the order of the thoughts — how 
 often have they been pondered ! — I cannot be mistaken 
 about. 
 
 It is now thirty years ago or more since I was pass- 
 ing through many of the mental conflicts in which I see 
 so many of the young in the present day involved. I 
 have no doubt that the majority of them will come out, 
 probably after an eclipse more or less partial, very ortho- 
 dox Christians, — so great are the revolutions of opinion 
 which an experience of human life and the necessities 
 of the human heart work upon us ! As I look around 
 me, I see few of my youthful contemporaries who have 
 not survived their infidelity. 
 
 Far be it from me — (I spoke in a tone which, I 
 imagine, they hardly knew whether to take as compli- 
 ment or irony) — to affirm that the infidels of this day 
 are like those I knew in my youth. I have no hesita- 
 tion in saying of W5, that a perfectly natural recoil — 
 partly intellectual and partly moral — from the super- 
 natural history, the peculiar doctrines, but, above all, 
 the severe morality of the New Testament, was at the 
 bottom oT our unbelief. I have long felt that the re- 
 ception of that book on the part of any human being 
 is not the least of its proofs that it is divine , for I am 
 
DILEMMAS OF AN INFIDEL NEOPHYTE. 195 
 
 persuaded there never was a book naturally more re- 
 pulsive either to the human head or heart. All the 
 prejudices of man are necessarily arrayed against it. 
 /felt these prejudices, I am now distinctly conscious ;v 
 nor was I insensible to the palpable advantages of infi- 
 delity ; — its accommodating morality ; its large margin 
 for the passions and appetites ; its doubts of any future 
 world, or its certainty that, if there were one, it would 
 prove a universal paradise (for doubts and certainties 
 are equally within the compass of human ivishes) ; the 
 absolute abolition of hell and every thing like it. I say 
 I saw clearly enough the advantages which infidelity 
 promised, and I acknowledge I was not insensible to 
 them. I think no young men are likely to be. 
 
 I do not insinuate that similar advantages have any 
 thing to do with those many peculiar revelations of 
 religion which different oracles have in our day substi- 
 tuted for the New Testament. The arguments against 
 Christianity, indeed, I do not find much altered; the 
 substitutions for it, though distractingly various, are, I 
 confess, in some respects different. Nay, we see that 
 many of our " spirituaJista^'^_^orn£^in chiefly of the 
 moral and spiritual deficiencies of jChristianity ; they are 
 afraid, with Mr. Newman j of the conscience of man 
 being depressed^Jo Jhe J^ible standard! So that we 
 must suppose that the aims of some, at least, of our 
 infidel reformers, are prompted by a loftier ideal of 
 "spiritual" purity than Christianity presents! 
 
 It certainly was not so then; I felicitate some of you 
 gentlemen, on being so much holier and wiser, not only 
 than we were, but even than Christ and his Apostles. 
 
 I have said I was not insensible to the advantages 
 of infidelity ; but nature had endowed me with prus 
 dence as well as passions ; and I wanted evidence for 
 what appeared to me its most gjatuitous philosophy of 
 
196 
 
 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 i 
 
 the future, — for its too uncertain doubts of all futurity, 
 anH'TE? too doubtful certainty of none but a happy one ' 
 I also wanted evidence of the falsehood of Christianity 
 itself. As to the former, I shall not trouble you with 
 my difficulties ; there were indeed then, as now, an ad- 
 mirable variety of theories; but if I could have been 
 convinced of the futility of the claims of Christianity, 1 
 believe I should have been easily satisfied as to a sub- 
 stitute ; or rather, unable to decide between Chubb and 
 Bolingbroke, Voltaire and Rousseau, I should most 
 likely have tossed up for my religion. 
 
 It was the distractions with regard to the evidences 
 of Christianity that ruined me ; and at last condemned 
 me to be a Christian. 
 
 I was first troubled, like so many in our day, about 
 ^QToiraeles. I could hardly bring my mind to believe 
 them. One day, talking with a jovial fellow whom I 
 casually met (not of very strong mind indeed, but who 
 made up for it by very strong passions) over the improb- 
 ability of such occurrences, he exclaimed, as he mixed 
 his third glass of brandy and water, " I only wonder how 
 any one can be such a fool as to believe in any stuff of 
 that sort ? Do you think that, if the miracles had been 
 really wrought, there could have been any doubters of 
 Christianity ? " He tossed off the brandy and water 
 with a triumphant air ; and I quite forgot his argument 
 in compassion for his bestiality. I expostulated with 
 him. " You may spare your breath, Mr. Solomon," said 
 he. " May this be my poison (as it will be my poison)," 
 mixing a fourth glass, "if I need any sermons on the 
 subject. Hark ye, — I am perfectly convinced that the 
 habit I am chained to will be the destruction of health, 
 of reputation, of my slender means, — will reduce to 
 beggary and starvation my wife and children, — and 
 yet," drinking again, " I know Ishall never leave it off." 
 
DILEMMAS OF AN INFIDEL NEOPHYTE. 197 
 
 " Good heavens I " said I. " Why, you seem as plain- 
 ly convinced of the infatuation of your conduct as if 
 a miracle had been wroughi> to convince you of it. 
 
 "I am," he said, unthinkingly; "ten thousand mira- 
 cles could not make it plainer; so you may 'spare your 
 breath to cool your porridge,' and preach to one who 
 is not already in the condemned cell." 
 
 I was exceedingly shocked; but I thought within 
 myself, — It appears, then, that man may act against 
 convictions, as strong as any that a miracle could pro- 
 duce. It is clear there are no limits to the perversity 
 with which a depraved will and passions can overrule 
 evidence, even where it is admitted by the reason to 
 be invincible. It does not follow, then, that a miracle 
 (which cannot present conclusions more clear) must 
 triumph over them. If the passions can defy the un- 
 derstanding, where it coolly acknowledges they cannot 
 pervert the evidence, how much more easily may they 
 cajole it to suggest doubts of the evidence itself! And 
 what more easy than in relation to miracles ? Such a 
 phenomenon might from novelty produce a transient 
 impression; but that would pass away, just as the vivid 
 feelings sometimes excited by a sudden escape from 
 death pass away ; the half-roused debauchee resumes 
 his old career, just as if he had never looked over the 
 brink of eternity and shuddered with horror as he gazed. 
 He who had seen a miracle might very soon, and prob- 
 ably would, if he did not like the doctrine it was to 
 confirm, persuade himself that it was an illusion of his 
 senses, for they have deceived him ; unless, indeed, he 
 saw a new miracle every day, and then he would be 
 certain to get used to it. How much more easily could 
 the Jews do this, who both hated the doctrine of Him 
 who taught, and, not thinking miracles impossible, 
 could conveniently refer them to Beelzebub ! 
 
198 
 
 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 1 felt, therefore, that the brandy and water logic had 
 perfectly convinced me that this was far too precarious 
 ground on which to conclude that the miracles of the 
 New Testament had been wrought. 
 
 I was further confirmed in my convictions of the 
 Illogical nature of all a priori views on the subject, by 
 the whimsical differences of opinion among my infidel 
 friends. 
 
 One told me that it was plain that miracles were 
 " incredible," and " impossible," per se ; but he was 
 immediately contradicted by a second, w^ho said that he 
 really could not see any thing incredible or impossible 
 about them ; that all that was wanting to make them 
 credible was svfficient evidence, which perhaps had in 
 no case been given. 
 
 A third said, that it was of little consequence ; that 
 no miracle could prove a moral truth ; and, taking a 
 view just the opposite to that of my first acquaintance, 
 swore that, if he saw a score of miracles, he should not 
 be a bit the more inclined to believe in the authority of 
 a religion authenticated by them. 
 
 Here was a fine beginning for an ingenuous neo- 
 phyte, who was eager to be fully initiated in infidel 
 theology ! 
 
 It set me to examine the miracles themselves, and 
 the evidence for them. 
 
 " They were the simple result of fraud practising 
 upon simplicity," said one of the genuine descendants 
 of Bolingbroke and Tindal. 
 
 I pondered over it a good deal. At last I said one 
 day to another infidel acquaintance, " You ask me to 
 believe that the miraculous events of the New Testa- 
 ment were contrivances of fraud ; which, though ven- 
 tured upon in the very eyes of those who were in- 
 terested in detecting them, who must have been preju- 
 
DILEMMAS OF AN INFIDEL NEOPHYTE. 199 
 
 diced against them, nay, the majority of whom (as the 
 events show) were determined, whether they detected 
 them or not, not to believe those who wrought them, 
 were yet successfully practised, not only on the deluded 
 disciples of the impostors, but on their unbelieving 
 persecutors, who admitted them to be miracles, only 
 of Beelzebub's performing. I really know not how to 
 believe it. As I look at the general history of religion, 
 I see that this open-day appeal to miracles — especially 
 such as raising the dead — among prejudiced spectators 
 interested in unmasking them is, if unsupported by 
 truth, just the thing under which a religious enterprise 
 inevitably fails." 
 
 I reminded him that the French prophets in England 
 got on pretty well till their unlucky attempt to raise 
 the dead, when the bubble burst instantly ; that for this 
 reason the more astute impostors have refrained from 
 any pretensions of the kind, from Mahomet down- 
 wards;* that the miracles they professed to have 
 wrought were conveniently wrought in secret, on the 
 safe theatre of their mental consciousness ; or that they 
 were reserved for times when their disciples were pre- 
 determined to believe them, because they were cordial 
 believers already in the religion which appealed to 
 them I I said nothing of the unlikelihood of the instni- 
 ments — Galilean Jews — whom the theory invests with 
 such superhuman powers of deception ; or of the pro- 
 digious intellect and lofty ambition with which it also 
 so liberally endows these obscure vagabonds, who not 
 only conceived, in spite of their narrow-hearted Jewish 
 bigotry, such a system as Christianity, but proclaimed 
 their audacious resolve of establishing it on the ruins 
 of every other religion, — Jewish or Heathen. I said 
 
 * How discreetly cautious, again, have the Mormonites been on this 
 point ! 
 
200 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 fm 
 
 nothing of the still stranger moral attributes with which 
 it invests them, (in spite of their being such odious 
 tricksters, in spite of all their grovelling notions and 
 exclusive prejudices,) as the teachers of a singularly 
 elevated and catholic morality ; what is still stranger, 
 as suffering for it, — strangest of all, as apparently prac- 
 tising it. I said nothing of what is still more wonderful, 
 their acting this inconsistent part from motives we can- 
 not assign or even imagine ; their encountering obloquy, 
 persecution, death, in the prosecution of their object, 
 whatever it was. I said nothing of the innumerable, 
 and one would think inimitable, traits of nature and 
 sincerity in the narrative of those who record these 
 miracles, and which, if simulated by such liars, would 
 be almost a miracle itself; a narrative, in which majes- 
 tic indifference to human criticism is everywhere exhib- 
 ited ; in which are no apologies for the extraordinary 
 stories told, no attempt to conciliate prejudice, no em- 
 bellishment, no invectives (as Pascal says) against the 
 persecutors of Christ himself ; — they are simple wit- 
 nesses, and nothing more, and are seemingly indifferent 
 whether men despise them or not. I repeat, I said 
 nothing of all these paradoxes ; I insisted that the mere 
 fact of the successful machination of false miracles, of 
 such a nature, at so many points, in open day, in defi- 
 ance of every motive and prejudice which must have 
 prompted the world to unmask the cheat, — of a con- 
 spiracy successfully prosecuted, not by one^ but by many 
 conspirators, whose fortitude, obstinacy, and circum- 
 spection, both when acting together and acting alone, 
 never allowed them to betray themselves, — was, per se^ 
 incredible ; " and yet," said I to my friend, " you ask 
 me to believe it ? " 
 
 "J ask you to believe it?" cried he, in surprise 
 which equalled my own. " I am not fool enough to 
 
DILEMMAS OF AN INFIDEL NEOPHYTE. 201 
 
 ask you to believe any thing of the kind ; and they are 
 fools who do. The mu'acles fraudulent machinations! 
 no, no ; it was, as you say, evidently impossible. And 
 w^here shall we look for marks of simplicity and truth- 
 fulness, if not in the records w^hich contain them. The 
 fact is," said he (I should mention that it was just 
 about the time that the system of " naturalism " was 
 culminating under the auspices of Paulus of Heidel- 
 berg, from whom, at second hand, my infidel friend 
 borrowed as much as he wanted), — " the fact is, that 
 the compilers of the New Testament were pious, sim- 
 ple-minded, excellent enthusiasts, who sincerely, but 
 not the less falsely, mistook natural phenomena for 
 supernatural miracles. "What more easy than to sup*^ 
 pose people dead when they were not, and who were ^ 
 merely recovered from a swoon or trance ? than to 
 imagine the blind, deaf, or dumb to be miraculously \ 
 healed, when in fact they were cured by medical skill ? 
 than to fancy the blaze of a flambeau to be a star, and 
 to shape thunder into articulate speech, and so on ? 
 Christ was no miracle-worker, but he was a capital 
 doctor." 
 
 I pondered over this " natural " explanation for a long 
 time. At last I ventured to express to a third infidel 
 friend my dissatisfaction with it. " Not only," said I, 
 "is such a perpetual and felicitous genius for gross 
 blundering, such absolute craziness of credulity, in 
 strange contrast with the intellectual and moral eleva- 
 tion which the New Testament writers everywhere 
 evince, and especially in the conception of that Ideal 
 of Excellence which even those who_reject all that i-A 
 supernatural in Christianity acknowledge to be so 
 sublime a masterpiece, — in whose discourses the 
 most admirable ethics are illustrated, and in whose 
 life they are still more divinely dramatized, — not only 
 
202 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 is such ludicrous madness of fanaticism at variance 
 with the tone of sobriety and simplicity everywhere 
 traceable; but, — what is more, — when I reflect on 
 the number and grossness of these supposed illusions, I 
 find it hard to imagine how even one individual could 
 have been honestly stupid enough to be beguiled by 
 them, and utterly impossible to suppose that a number 
 of men should on many occasions have been simuU 
 taneously thus befooled! But, what is much more, 
 how can those who must often have managed the 
 phenomena which were thus misinterpreted into mira- 
 cles, — how, especially, can the great Physician him- 
 self, who knew that he was only playing the doctor, be 
 supposed honestly to have allowed the simple-minded 
 followers to persist in so strange an error ? Either he, 
 or they, or both, must^ one would think, have been 
 guilty of the grossest frauds. But the mere number 
 and simultaneity of such strange illusions, under such 
 a variety of circumstances, render it impossible to 
 receive this hypothesis. I cannot see, I said, that it is 
 so very easy for a nmnber of men to have been con- 
 tinually mistaking ' flambeaux ' for * stars,' * thunder ' for 
 * human speech,' and ' Roman soldiers ' for ' angels.' " 
 
 My friend laughed outright. " I should think it is 
 not easy, indeed I " he exclaimed, " especially that last. 
 For my part, /see clearly, on this theory, that either the 
 Apostles or their commentators were the most crazy, 
 addle-headed wretches in the world. Either Paulus of 
 Tarsus or Paulus of Heidelberg was certainly cracked: 
 /believe the last. No, my friend ; depend upon it that 
 the Gospels consist of a number of fictions^ — many of 
 them very beautiful, — invented, I am inclined to be- 
 lieve, for a very pious purpose, by highly imaginative 
 minds." 
 
 This set me thinking again. And, in time, my 
 
DILEMMAS OF AN INFIDEL NEOPHYTE. 203 
 
 doubts, as usual, assumed a determinate shape, and I 
 hastened to another oracle of infidelity in hopes of a 
 solution. 
 
 If the New Testament be supposed a series of fio\ 
 tions, I argued, — the work of highly imaginative minds ' 
 for a pious purpose, — there is perhaps a slight moral 
 anomaly in the case (but I do not insist upon it) : I 
 mean that of supposing pious men writing fictions which 
 they evideiitly wish to impose_on jthe world as simple 
 history, and which they must have known would, if re- 
 ceived at all, be actually regarded as such ; as, in fact, 
 they have been. I do not quite understand how pious 
 men should thus endeavor to cheat men into virtue, 
 nor inculcate sanctity and truth through the medium of 
 deliberate fraud and falsehood. But let that pass ; per- 
 haps one could forgive it. Other anomalies, far more 
 inexplicable, strike me. That Galilean Jews (such as 
 the history of the time represents them), with all their 
 national and inveterate prejudices, — wedded not more 
 to the law of Moses than to their own corruptions of 
 it, bigoted and exclusive beyond all the nations that 
 ever existed, eaten up with the most beggarly super- 
 stitions, — should rise to the moral grandeur, the no- 
 bility of sentiment, the catholicity of spirit, which char- 
 acterize the Gospel, and, above all, to such an ideal as 
 Jesus Christ, — this is a moral anomaly, which is to 
 me incomprehensible ; the improbability of Christianity 
 having its natural origin in such a source is properly 
 measured by the hatred of the Jews against it, both 
 then and through all time. I said I could as little 
 understand the intellectual anomalies of such a theory. 
 Could men, among the most ignorant of a nation sunk 
 in that gross and puerile superstition of which the New 
 Testament itself presents a true picture, and which is 
 reflected in the Jewish literature of that age, and ever 
 
204 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 since, — a nation whose master minds then and ever 
 since (think of that!) have given us only such stuff as 
 fills the Talmud, — could such men, I said, have created 
 such fictions as those of the New Testament, — reached 
 such elevated sentiments, or conveyed them in such 
 perfectly original forms, — embodied truth so sublime 
 in a style so simple ? Throughout those writings there 
 is a peculiar tone which belongs to no other composi- 
 tions of man. While the individuality of the writers is 
 not lost, there are still peculiarities which pervade the 
 whole, and have, as I think, justly been called a Scrip- 
 ture style. One of their most striking characteristics, 
 by the way, is a severely simple taste ; a uniform free- 
 dom from the vulgarities of conception, the exagger- 
 ated sentiment, the mawkish nonsense and twaddle, 
 which disfigure such an infinitude of volumes of re- 
 ligious biography and fiction which have been written 
 since. Could such men attain this uniform elevation ? 
 Could such men have invented those extraordinary fic- 
 tions, — the miracles and the parables ? Could they, in 
 spite of their gross ignorance, have so interwoven the 
 fictitious and the historical as to make the fiction let into 
 the history seem a natural part of it? Could they, 
 above all, have conceived the daring, but glorious, proj- 
 ect of embodying and dramatizing the ideal of the sys- 
 tem they inculcated in the person of Christ? And yet 
 they have succeeded, though choosing to attempt the 
 wonderful task in a life full of unearthly incidents, which 
 they have somehow wrought into an exquisite harmony ! 
 But even if one such man in such an age and nation 
 could have been found equal to all this, could we, I ar- 
 gued, believe that several (with undeniable individual 
 varieties of manner) were capable of working into the 
 picture similarly unique, but different materials, with 
 similar success, and of reproducing the same portrait, in 
 
DILEMMAS OF AN INFIDEL NEOPHTIE. 205 
 
 varying posture and attitude, of the great Moral Idea? 
 Could we believe that, in achieving this task, not one, 
 but several, were intellectual magicians enough to solve 
 that great problem of producing compositions in a form 
 independent of language, — of laying on colors which 
 do not fade by time ; so that while Homer, Shakspeare, 
 Milton, suffer grievous wrong the moment their thoughts 
 are transferred into another tongae, these men should 
 have written so that their wonderful narrative naturally 
 adapts itself to every dialect under heaven ? 
 
 These intellectual anomalies, I confessed, — if these 
 had been all, — staggered me. As Lord Bacon said that 
 he would sooner believe " all the fables of the Talmud, 
 than that this universal frame was without a mind," so 
 I could sooner believe all those fables, than that minds 
 that can only produce Talmuds should have conceived 
 such fictions as the Gospel. I could as soon believe 
 that some dull chronicler of the Middle Ages composed 
 Shakspeare's plays, or a ploughman had written Para- 
 dise Lost; only that, to parallel the present case, we 
 ought to believe that /owr ploughmen wrote four Para- 
 dise Losts I Nay, I said, I would as soon believe that 
 most laughable theory of learned folly, that the monks 
 of the Middle Ages compiled all the classics! Nor could 
 it help me to say that it was Christians^ not Jews^ who 
 compiled the New Testament; for they must have been 
 Jews before they were Christians ; and the twofold 
 moral and intellectual problem comes back upon our 
 hands, — to imagine how the Jewish mind could have 
 given birth to the ideas of Christianity, or have embod- 
 ied them in such a surpassing form. And as to the in- 
 tellectual part of the difficulty, — unhappi y abundant 
 proof exists in Christian literature that the early Chris- 
 tians could as little have manufactured such fictions as 
 the Jews themselves ' The New Testament is not more 
 
 18 
 
206 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 different from the writings of Jews, or superior to them, 
 than it is different from the writings of the Fathers, 
 and superior to them. It stands alone, like the Peak of 
 Teneriffe. The Alps amidst the flats of Holland would 
 not present a greater contrast than the New Testament 
 and the Fathers. And the farther we come down, the 
 less capable morally, and nearly as incapable intellect- 
 ually, do the rapidly degenerating Christians appear, 
 of producing such a fiction as the New Testament ; so 
 that, if it be asked whether it was not possible that 
 some Christians of after times might \i'3iwe forged these 
 books, one must say with Paley, that they could not. 
 
 And by the by, gentlemen, said I, (interrupting my 
 narrative, and addressing the present company,) I may 
 remind some of you who are great admirers of Pro- 
 fessor Newman, that he admits (as indeed all must, who 
 have had an opportunity of comparing them) the infi- 
 nite inferiority of the Fathers, though he does not at- 
 tempt to account, as surely he onght^ for so singular a 
 circumstance. He says in his Phases : " On the whole, 
 this reading [of the Apostolical Fathers] greatly exalted 
 my sense of the unapproachable greatness of the New 
 Testament. The moral chasm between it and the very 
 earliest Christian writers seemed to me so vast, as only 
 
 to be accounted for by the doctrine that the New 
 
 Testament was dictated by the immediate action of the 
 Holy Spirit." * 
 
 But to resume the statement of my early difficulties. 
 I felt that the anomalies involved in the theory of the 
 fictitious origin of the New Testament were almost end- 
 less ; I said that, however hard to believe that any men, 
 much less such men as Jews of that age, were capable 
 of such achievements as I had already specified, I must 
 
 * Phases, p. 25. 
 
DILEMMAS OF AN INFIDEL NEOPHYTE. 207 
 
 believe much more still; for the men, with all their 
 wisdom, were fools enough to make their enterprise in- 
 finitely more hazardous, — by intrusting the execution 
 of it to a league of many minds, thus multiplying in- 
 definitely their chances of contradiction ; by adopting 
 every kind and style of composition, full of reciprocal 
 allusions ; and, above all, by dovetailing their fabrica- 
 tions into true history^ thus encountering a perpetual 
 danger of collision between the two ; all as if to accu- 
 mulate upon their task every difficulty which ingenuity 
 could devise ! Could I believe that such men as those 
 to whom history restricts the problem had been able, 
 while thus giving every advantage to the detection of 
 imposture, to invent a narrative so infinitely varied in 
 form and style, composed by so many different hands^ 
 traversing, in such diversified ways, contemporary char- 
 acters and events, involving names of places, dates, and 
 numberless specialities of circumstance, and yet main- 
 tain a general harmony of so peculiar a kind, such a 
 callida junctura of these most heterogeneous materials, 
 as to have imposed on the bulk of readers in all ages 
 an impression of their artless truth and innocence, and 
 that they were writing facts^ and not fictions ? Above 
 all, could they be capable of fabricating those deeply- 
 latent coincidences, which, if fraud employed them, 
 overreached fraud itself; lying so deep as to be un- 
 discovered for nearly eighteen centuries, and only re 
 cently attracting the attention of the world in conse 
 quence of the objections of infidels themselves ? We 
 know familiarly enough, that to sustain any verisimili 
 tude in a fictitious history (even though only one man 
 has the manufacture of it) is almost impossible, because 
 the relations of fact that must be anticipated and pro- 
 vided against are so infinitely various, that the writer is 
 certain to betray himself. The constant detection of 
 
208 t:ie eclipse of faith. 
 
 very limited fabrications of a similar nature, when evi- 
 dence is sifted in a court of justice, shows us the im- 
 possibility of weaving a plausible texture of this kind. 
 Many things are sure to have been forgotten which 
 mght to have been remembered. If this be the case, 
 3ven where one mind has the fabrication of the whole, 
 how much more would it be the case if many minds 
 were engaged in the conspiracy? Should we not ex- 
 pect, at the very least, the hesitating, suspicious, self- 
 betraying tone usual in all such cases ? Could we ex- 
 pect that general air of truth which so undeniably pre- 
 vails throughout the New Testament, — the inimitable 
 tone of nature, earnestness, and frank sincerity, which, 
 in the case of such extravagant forgeries, would alone 
 be marvellous traits ? But, at all events, could we ex- 
 pect those minute coincidences, which lay too deep for 
 the eye of all ordinary readers, and would never have 
 been discovered had not infidelity provoked Paley and 
 others to excavate those subterranean galleries in which 
 they are found ? 
 
 And here again I interrupted my narrative to remark, 
 that Professor Newman acknowledges the force of these 
 coincidences, and, as usual, gives no account of them. 
 He says of the Horae Paulinse, in his " Phases " : " This 
 book greatly enlarged my mind as to the resources of 
 historical criticism. Previously my sole idea of criti- 
 cism was that of the discreet discernment of style ; but I 
 now began to understand what powerful argument rose 
 out of combinations ; and the very complete establish- 
 ment which this work gives to the narrative concerning 
 Paul in the latter half of the Acts appeared to me to 
 reflect critical honor on the whole New Testament." * 
 
 But once more to resume my statement. Upon men- 
 
 * ' • - ■ * Phases, p>23. 
 
DILEMMAS OF AN INFIDEL NEOPHYTE. 209 
 
 tioning these and such like considerations to my infidel 
 friend, who pleaded that the New Testament was 
 fiction, he replied, " As to the harmony in these fictions, 
 — if they be such, — you must acknowledge that it is 
 not absolute : there are discrepancies." 
 
 Yes, I said, there are discrepancies, I admit ; and I 
 was about to mention that as another difficulty in the 
 way of my reception of this theory I refer to the 
 nature and the limits of those discrepancies. If there 
 had been an absolute harmony, even to the minutest 
 point, I am persuaded that, on the principles of evidence 
 in all such cases, many would have charged collusion 
 on the writers, and have felt that it was a corroboration 
 of the theory of the fictitious origin of these composi- 
 tions. But as the case stands, the discrepancies, if the 
 compositions be fictitious indeed, are only a proof that 
 these men attained a still more wonderful skill in aping 
 verisimilitude than if there had been no discrepancies 
 at all. They have left in the historic portions of their 
 narrative an air of general harmony, with an exquisite 
 congruity in points which lie deep below the surface, — 
 a congruity which they must be supposed to have 
 known would astonish the world when once discovered ; 
 and have at the same time left certain discrepancies on 
 the surface (which criticism would be sure to point 
 out), as if for the very purpose of affording guaranties 
 and vouchers against the suspicion of collusion! The 
 discords increase the harmony. Once more, I asked, 
 could I believe Jews, Jews in the reign of Tiberius or 
 Nero, equal to all these wonders ? 
 
 But all this, even all this, I said, was as nothing com- 
 pared with another difficulty involved in this theory. 
 How came these fictions, containing such monstrousi 
 romance, if romance at all, and equally monstrous doc- 
 trines, to be believed ; to be believed by multitudes of 
 
 18* 
 
 \ 
 
210 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 Jews and Gentiles, both opposed and equally opposed 
 to them by previous inveterate superstition and prej- 
 udice? How came so many men of such different 
 races and nations of mankind to hasten to unclothe 
 themselves of all their previous beliefs in order to adopt 
 these fantastical fables ? How came they to persist in 
 regarding them as authoritative truth ? How came so 
 many in so many different countries to do this at once ? 
 Nay, I added with a laugh, I think there are distinct 
 traces, as far as we have any evidence, that these very 
 peculiar fictions must have been believed by many be- 
 fore they were even compiled and published. 
 
 My infidel friend mused, and at last said, " I agree 
 with you that these compositions could not have been 
 fictions in the ordinary sense, — that is, deliberately 
 composed by a conspiracy of highly imaginative minds. 
 That last argument alone, of their success^ is conclusive 
 against that ; but may they not have been legends which 
 gradually assumed this form out of floating traditions 
 and previous popular and national prepossessions?" 
 In short, he faintly sketched a notion somewhat sirnilar 
 to that mythic theory, since so elaborately wrought out 
 by Strauss. 
 
 I answered somewhat as follows : — In the first place, 
 on this hypothesis, all the intellectual and moral anoma- 
 lies of the last theory reappear. That such legends 
 should have been the product of the Jewish mind 
 (whether designedly or undesignedly, consciously or 
 unconsciously, makes no difference), is one of the prin- 
 cipal difficulties. If it had been objected to Pere Har- 
 douin, that Virgil's " ^neid " could not have been com- 
 posed by one of the monks of the Middle Ages, I suppose 
 that it would have been no relief from the difficulties of 
 his hypothesis to say that it was a gradual, uncon- 
 sciously formed deposit of the monkish mind ! But be- 
 
DILEMMAS OF AN INFIDEL NEOPHYTE. 2tT 
 
 sides all this, I said, the theory was loaded with other 
 absurdities specially its own ; for we must then believe 
 all the indications of historic plausibility to which I had 
 adverted in speaking of the previous theory to be the 
 work of accident; a supposition, if possible, still more 
 inconceivable than that some superhuman genius for 
 fiction had been employed on their elaboration. Things 
 moulder into rubbishy but they do not moulder into/a6- 
 rics. And then (I continued) the greatest difficulty, 
 as before, reappears, — how came these queer legends^ 
 the product whether of design or accident, to be be- 
 lieved? Jews and Gentiles were and must have been, 
 thoroughly opposed to them. 
 
 To this he replied, " I suppose the belief, as you also 
 do, anterior to the books, which express that belief, 
 but did not cause it. I suppose the Christian system 
 already existing as a floating vapor and merely con- 
 densed into the written form. It was a gradual for- 
 mation, like the Greek and Indian mythologies." I 
 thought on this for some time, and then said something 
 like this : — 
 
 Worse and worse ; for I fear that the age of Augus- 
 tus was no age in which the world was likely to frame 
 a mythology at all : — if it had been such an age, the 
 problem does not allow sufficient time for it; — if there 
 had been sufficient time, it would not have been such a 
 mythology ; — and if there had been any formed, it 
 would not have been rapidly embraced, any more than 
 other mythologies, by men of different races, but would 
 have been confined to that which gave it birth. 
 
 As to the j^r^^ point, you ask me to believe that some- 
 thing like the mythology of the Hindoos or Egyptians 
 could spring up and diffuse itself in such an age of civ- 
 ilization and philosophy, books and history ; whereas 
 all experience shows us that only a time of barbarism, 
 
212 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 before authentic history nas commenced, is proper to 
 the birth of such monstrosities ; that this congelation of 
 tradition and legend takes place only during the long 
 frosts and the deep night of ages, and is impossible in 
 the bright sun of history ; — in whose very beams, nev- 
 ertheless, these prodigious icicles are supposed to have 
 been formed I 
 
 As to the second point, you ask me to believe that 
 the thing should be done almost instantly ; for in A. D. 
 1, we find, by all remains of antiquity, that both Jews 
 and Gentiles were reposing in the shadow of their an- 
 cient superstitions ; and in A. D. 60, multitudes among 
 different races had become the bigoted adherents of this 
 novel mythology ! 
 
 As to the third point, you ask me to believe that 
 such a mythology as Christianity could have sprung up 
 when those amongst whom it is supposed to have orig- 
 inated, and those amongst whom it is supposed to 
 have been propagated, must have equally loathed it. 
 National prepossessions of the Jews ! Why, the kind of 
 Messiah on which the national heart was set, the invet- 
 eracy with which they persecuted to the death the one 
 that offered himself, and the hatred with which for 
 eighteen hundred years they have recoiled from him, 
 sufficiently show how preposterous this notion is ! As 
 a nation, they were, ever have been, and are now, more 
 opposed to Christianity than any other nation on earth. 
 Prepossessions of the Gentiles ! There was not a Mes- 
 siah that a Jew could frame a notion of, but would have 
 been an object of intense loathing and detestation to 
 them all ! Yet you ask me to believe that a mythology 
 originated in the prejudices of a nation the vast bulk of 
 whom from its commencement have most resolutely re- 
 jected it, and was rapidly propagated among other na- 
 tions and races, who must have been prejudiced against 
 
DILEMMAS OF AN INFIDEL NEOPHYTE. 213 
 
 it ; who even abjured in its favor those venerable super 
 stitions which were consecrated by the most powerful 
 associations of antiquity ! 
 
 As to the fourth point, you ask me to believe that, at 
 a juncture when all the wjrld was divided between 
 deep-rooted superstition and incredulous scepticism, — 
 divided, as regards the Jews, into Pharisees and Saddu- 
 cees, and, as regards the Gentiles, into their Pharisees 
 and Sadducees, that is, into the vulgar who believed, 
 or at least practised, all popular religions, and the phi- 
 losophers who laughed at them all, and whose com- 
 bined hostility was directed against the supposed new 
 mythology, — it nevertheless found favor with multi- 
 tudes in almost all lands ! You ask me to believe that 
 a mythology was rapidly received by thousands of differ- 
 ent races and nations, when all history proclaims, that 
 it is with the utmost difficulty that any such system 
 ever passes the limits of the race which has originated 
 it ; and that you can hardly get another race even to 
 look at it as a matter of philosophic curiosity! You 
 ask me to believe that this system was received by 
 multitudes among many different races, both of Asia 
 and Europe, without /orce, when a similar phenomenon 
 has never been witnessed in relation to any mythology 
 whatever! Thus, after asking me to burden myself 
 with a thousand perplexities to account for the origin 
 of these fables, you afterguards burden me with a thou- 
 sand more, to account for their success ! Lastly, you 
 ask me to believe, not only that men of different races 
 and countries became bigotedly attached to legends 
 which none were likely to originate, which all were 
 likely to hate, and, most of all, those who are supposed 
 to have originated them ; but that they received them 
 as historic facts, when the known recency of their origin 
 must have shown the ^vorld that they were the legenda- 
 
214 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 ry birth of yesterday ; and that they acted thus, though 
 those who propagated these legends had no military 
 power no civil authority, no philosophy, no science, no 
 one instrument of human success to aid them, while 
 the opposing prejudices which everywhere encountered 
 them had ! I really know not how to believe all this. 
 
 " There are certainly many difficulties in the matter," 
 candiiUy replied my infidel friend. But, as if wishing 
 to effect a diversion, — " Have you ever read Gibbon's 
 celebrated chapter ? " 
 
 Why, yes, I told him, two or three years before ; 
 but he does not say a syllable in solution of my chief 
 difficulties; he does not tell me any thing as to the 
 origin of the ideas of Christianity, nor who could have 
 written the wonderful books in which they are em- 
 bodied; besides, said I, in my simplicity, he yields 
 the point, by allowing miracles to be the most potent 
 cause of the success of Christianity. 
 
 " Ah," he replied, " but every one can see that he is 
 there speaking ironically." 
 
 Why, then, said I, laughing, I fear he is telling us 
 how the success of Christianity cannot be accounted 
 for, rather than how it can. 
 
 " O, but he gives you the secondary causes; which 
 it is easy to see he considers the principal ; and also 
 sufficient." 
 
 I will read him again, I said, and with deep atten- 
 tion. Some time after, in meeting with the same 
 friend, I began upon Gibbon's secondary causes. 
 
 " They have given you satisfaction, I hope." 
 
 Any thing but that, I replied ; they do not, as I said 
 before, touch my principal difficulties ; and even as to 
 the success of the system when once elaborated, — his 
 reasons are cither a mere restatement of the difficulty 
 to be solved, or aggravate it indefinitely. 
 
DILEMMAS OF AN INFIDEL NEOPHYTE. 215 
 
 " You are hard to be pleased," he replied. 
 
 I said I was, except by solid arguments. But does 
 Gibbon offer them ? I asked. 
 
 He tells us, for example, that the virtues, energy, and 
 zeal of the early Church was a main instrument of the 
 success of Christianity ; whereas it is the very origina- 
 tion of the early Church, with all these efficacious en- 
 dowments, that we want to account for : it is as though 
 he had told me that we might account for the success 
 of Christianity from the fact that it had succeeded to 
 such an extent as to render its further success very 
 probable ! As for the rest of his secondary causes, they 
 are difficulties in its way rather than auxiliaries. He 
 asks me to believe that the intolerance of Christianity 
 — by which it refused all alliance with other religions, 
 and insisted in reigning alone or not at all, by which it 
 spat contempt on the whole rabble of the Pantheon — 
 was likely to facilitate its reception among nations, 
 whose pride and whose pleasure alike it w^as to encour- 
 age civilities and compliments between their Gods, 
 each of whom was on gracious visiting terms with its 
 neighbors ! He asks me, in effect, to believe that the 
 austerity of the Christians tended to give them favor 
 in the eyes of an accommodating and jovial Heathen- 
 ism ; that the severity of manners by which they re- 
 proved it, and which to their contemporaries must have 
 appeared (as we know from the Apologists it did) much 
 as Puritan grimace to the court of Charles II., was 
 somehow attractive! That the scruples with which 
 they recoiled from all usages and customs which could 
 be associated with the elegant pomp of Pagan wor- 
 ship, and the suspicion with which, as having been 
 linked with idolatry, they looked on every emanation 
 of that spirit of beauty which reigned over the exterior 
 life of Paganism, would operate as a charm in their 
 
216 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 favor ! That their studied absence from all scenes of 
 social hilarity, their grave looks on festal days, their un- 
 garlanded heads, their simple attire, their utter estrange- 
 ment from the Graces, which in truth were the only 
 legitimate Gods in Greece, and the true mothers of the 
 whole family of Olympus, would be likely to concili- 
 ate towards the Gospel the favorable dispositions of 
 classic antiquity! I have not so read history, nor so 
 learnt human nature. Again, he asks me to believe, 
 that the immortality which Christianity promised the 
 Heathen — such an immortality — was another of the 
 things which tended to give it success ; — on the one 
 hand, a menace of retribution, not for flagrant crimes 
 only, which Heathenism itself punished, nor for those 
 lax manners which the easy spirit of Paganism had 
 made venial, but for spiritual vices, of which it took no 
 account, some of which it had even consecrated as 
 virtues ; and, on the other hand, an offer of a paradise 
 which promised nothing but delights of a spiritual or- 
 der; a paradise which, whatever material or imaginative 
 adjuncts it might have, certainly disclosed none ; which 
 presented no one thing to gratify the prurient curiosity 
 of man's fancy, or the eager passions of his sensual na- 
 ture ; which must, in fact, have been about as inviting 
 to the soul of a Heathen as the promise of an eternal 
 Lent to an epicure ! Surely these were resistless se • 
 ductions. Yet it is to such things as auxiliaries that 
 Gibbon refers me for the success of Christianity. Veri- 
 ly it is not without reason that he is called a master of 
 irony ! 
 
 My friend fairly acknowledged the difficulties of the 
 subject, but said he could not believe in the truth of 
 Christianity. 
 
 I repaired to another infidel acquaintance " It is a 
 perplexing, a very perplexing controversy, no doubt,'* 
 
DILEMMAS OF AN INFIDEL NEOPHYTE. 217 
 
 was his reply ; " but every thing tends to show that 
 Christianity resembles in its principal features all those 
 other religions which you admit to be false. All have 
 their prodigies and miracles, — their revelations and in- 
 spirations, — their fragments of truth and their masses 
 of nonsense. They are all to be rejected together." 
 
 I again puzzled for a long time over this aspect of 
 the case. At last I said to him, — This seems a curious 
 way of disposing of the evidence for Christianity ; for if 
 there be any true religion, it is likely, as in all other 
 cases, that the counterfeits will have some features in 
 common with it. It would follow, also, that there can 
 be no true philosophy ; since, while there are scores of 
 philosophies, only one can be true. But I have another 
 difficulty : on comparing Christianity with other sys- 
 tems, I find vital dift'erences, both as regards theory and 
 fact As regards theory, I find an insuperable difficulty, 
 not merely in imagining how Jews, Greeks, or Romans, 
 any or all of them, should have been the originators of 
 Christianity, but how hmnan nature should have been 
 fool enough to originate it at all ! For I am asked to 
 believe that man, such as I know him through all his- 
 tory, such as he appears in so many forms of religion 
 which have been his undoubted and most worthy fab- 
 rication, did, whether fraudulently or not, whether de- 
 signedly or unconsciously, frame a religion which is in 
 striking contrast with all his ordinary handiwork of this 
 sort! This religion enjoins the austerest morality; 
 human religions generally enjoin a very lax one; — this 
 demands the most refined purity, even of the thoughts 
 and desires ; other religions usually attach to external 
 and ceremonial observances greater weight than to 
 morality itself ; — this is singularly simple in its rites ; 
 they for the most part consist of little else ; — this ex- 
 hibits a singular silence and abstinence in relation to 
 
 19 
 
218 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 the future and invisible ; they amply indulge the im 
 agination and fancy, and are full of delineations calcu- 
 lated to gratify man's most natural curiosity; — this 
 takes under its special patronage those virtues which 
 man is least likely to love or cultivate, and which men 
 in general regard as pusillanimous infirmities, if not 
 vices ; they patronize the most energetic passions, - 
 the passions which made the demigods and heroes of 
 antiquity. I am not saying which is the better in these 
 respects ; I am only saying that human nature appears 
 more true to itself in the last. And so notorious is all 
 this, that the corruptions of Christianity, as years rolled 
 on, have ever been to assimilate it to the other relig- 
 ions of the earth ; to abate its spirituality ; to relax its 
 austere code of morals ; to commute its proper claims 
 for external observances ; to encumber its ritual with 
 an infinity of ceremonies ; and, above all, to uncover 
 the future and invisible, on which it left a veil, and add 
 a purgatory into the bargain! Thus, whether con- 
 trasted with other religions or with its corrupted self, 
 /Christianity does not seem a religion which human 
 nature would be pleased to invent. 
 
 Again, is it like the other religious products of human 
 nature, in daring to aspire to universal dominion, and 
 that too founded on moral power alone? Never, till 
 Christianity appeared, had such an imagination ever 
 entered the mind of man! Other religions were na- 
 tional affairs; their gods never dreamed of such an 
 enterprise as that of subduing all nations. They were 
 naturally contented with the country that gave them 
 birth, and the homage of the race that worshipped 
 them. They were, when not themselves asoailed, very 
 tolerant, and did the civil thing by all other gods of all 
 other nations, and were even content to expire with 
 great propriety (they usually did so) with the political 
 
DILEMMAS OF AN INFIDEL NEOPHYTE. 219 
 
 extinction of the race of their votaries ! Christianity 
 alone adopts a different tone, — " Go ye, and preach the 
 Gospel to all nations," — and declares, not only that it 
 will reign, but that none other shall. It will not endure 
 a rival ; it will not consent to have a statue with the 
 mob of the Pantheon. Whether this ambition — call it 
 pride and folly, if you will, as you well may if the thing 
 be merely human — was likely to suggest itself to man, 
 considering the local and national character of other 
 religions, and the apparent hopelessness of any such 
 enterprise, I have my doubts. Arrogance it may be ; 
 but it is not such arrogance as is very natural to man. 
 
 These, I said, were amongst a few of the things in 
 which I must say I thought the theory of Christianity 
 very unlike that of any religion human nature was 
 likely to invent. 
 
 If, I continued, I examine the past history and pres- 
 ent position of Christianity, with an impartial eye, I 
 see that it presents in several most important respects 
 a contrast with other religions in point oifact. I shall 
 content myself with enumerating a few. Look, then, 
 at the perpetual spirit of aggression which character- 
 izes this rehgion; its undeniable power (in whatever it 
 consists, and from whatever it springs) to prompt those 
 who hold it to render it victorious^ — a spirit which has 
 more or less characterized its whole history ; which 
 still lives, even in its most coiTupt forms, and which 
 has not been least active in our own time. I do not 
 see any thing like it in other religions. Till I see Mol- 
 lahs from Ispahan, Brahmins from Benares, Bonzes 
 from China, preaching their systems of religion in Lon- 
 don, Paris, and Berlin, supported year after year by 
 an enormous expenditure on the part of their zealous 
 compatriots, and the nations who support them taking 
 the liveliest interest in their success or failure, till I 
 
220 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 see this (call it fanatical if you will, the money thus 
 expended wasted, the men who give it fools), I shall 
 not be able to pronounce Christianity simply on a par 
 with other religions. 
 
 Till the sacred books of other religions can boast of 
 at least a hundredth part of the same efforts to trans- 
 late and diffuse them as have been concentrated on the 
 Bible ; till we find them in at least half as many lan- 
 guages; till they can render those who possess them 
 at least a tenth part as willing to make costly efforts to 
 insure to them a circulation coextensive with the family 
 of man ; till they occupy an equal space in the litera- 
 ture of the world, and are equally bound up with the 
 philosophy, history, poetry, of the community of civil- 
 ized nations ; till they have given an equal number of 
 human communities a written language, and may thus 
 boast of having imparted to large sections of the human 
 family the germ of all art, science, and civilization ; till 
 they can cite an equal amount of testimonies to their 
 beauty and sublimity /rom those who reject their divine 
 original^ — I shall scarcely think Christianity can be put 
 simply on a par with other religions. 
 
 Till it can be said that the sacred books of other 
 religions are equally unique in relation to all the litera- 
 ture in which they are imbedded ; similar neither to 
 what precedes nor what comes after them, — their ene- 
 mies themselves being judges ; till they can be shown 
 to be as superior to all that is found in contempora- 
 neous authors as the New Testament is to the writings 
 of Christian Fathers or the Jewish Rabbis, — I cannot 
 say that Christianity is just like any other religion. 
 
 Till we can find a religion that has stood as many 
 different, assaults from infidelity in the midst of it, — 
 educated infidelity, infidelity aided by learning, genius, 
 philosophy, freely employing all the power of argument 
 
DILEMMAS OF AN INFIDEL NEOPHYTE. 221 
 
 and all the power of ridicule to disabuse its votaries ; 
 till \<re can find a religion which can point to an equal 
 array of educated men, philosophic in spirit, in learn- 
 ing, and genius, deeply skilled in the investigation of 
 evidence, deliberately declaring that its claims are well 
 sustained, — we cannot say that Christianity is just 
 like any other religion. 
 
 Till it can be shown that another religion, to an equal 
 extent, has propagated itself without force amongst to- 
 tally different races, and in the most distant countries, 
 and has survived equal revolutions of thought and opin- 
 ion, manners and laws, amongst those who have em- 
 braced it, it cannot be said that Christianity is simply 
 like any other religion. 
 
 Till it can be shown that the sacred books of other 
 religions have contained predictions as definite and as 
 unlikely to be fulfilled as the success of early Chris- 
 tianity against^all the opposition of prejudice and perse- 
 cution, — its voluntary reception amongst different races, 
 contrary to all the analogies of religious history, — and 
 the continued preservation of the Jews among all na- 
 tions without forming a part of any, — I cannot think 
 that Christianity is precisely in the condition of any 
 other religion. 
 
 Such, gentlemen, were some few of the differences 
 in fact which seemed^orne, not less than its theory, to 
 discriminate Christianity from other religions. Had I, 
 in those days of my youth, been favored with the views 
 of modern " spiritualism," I should have added, that till 
 it is shown that some other religion has possessed an 
 equal power of moulding those characters whom Mr. 
 Newman points out as the best examples of " spiritual " 
 refigion, and can point to oracles equally pervaded by 
 that " sentiment " which he declares is wanting in 
 Greek philosophers, English Deists, and German Pan- 
 
 19* 
 
222 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 theists, but which, he admits, pervades the Bible ; till 
 I see the devout men whom he extols produced by 
 other religions, or rather, I ought to say, produced 
 without them (where Christianity however is unknown) 
 by the unaided " spiritual faculty," — I cannot but think 
 that the position of Christianity is somewhat discrimi- 
 nated both from o/Aer religions and from " Naturalism." 
 
 Such, I said, to conclude, was an imperfect outline 
 ot some of my early conflicts, and such the cruel mode 
 in which my unbelieving friends laughed at each other's 
 hypotheses, and left me destitute of any. Finding that 
 they conclusively confuted one another, and perceiving 
 at last that the idea of the superhuman origin of Chris- 
 tianity did, and, as Bishop Butler says, alone can, re- 
 solve all the difficulties of the subject, I was compelled 
 to forego all the advantages of infidelity, and conde- 
 scended to " depress " my conscience to the " Biblical 
 standard " ! Would to Heaven that it had never been 
 depressed below it ! 
 
 I am bound to say my auditors listened with courtesy. 
 
 The conversation was now carried on in little knots : 
 I, who was glad of a rest, was occupied in listening to 
 a conversation between Harrington and his Italian 
 friend, who was urging him to take refuge from such 
 a Babel of discords as his company had uttered, in the 
 only secure asylum. Harrington told him, with the 
 utmost gravity, that one great objection to the Church 
 of Rome was the unseemly liberty she allowed to the 
 right of private judgment ; that he found in her com- 
 munion distractions the most perplexing, especially as 
 between English and foreign Romanists ! 
 
 After the party had broken up, and we were left 
 alone, Mr. Fellows s, turning to me, said, " You lay 
 
SKIRMISHES. 223 
 
 great sUess on the origination of such a character as 
 Christ. But can we make its reality a literary problem ? 
 May it not have been imaginary ? As Mr. Newman 
 says, * Human nature is often portrayed in super- 
 human dignity ; why not in superhuman goodness V " 
 
 " That the origination," said I, " of suck a Moral 
 Ideal, in so peculiar a form, by such men as Galilean 
 Jews, is unaccountable enough, I fancy all will admit; 
 but it is, you observe, only one of the numberless points 
 which are unaccountable ; neither do I make this one 
 feature, or any of the other singular characteristics of 
 the New Testament, merely a literary problem. The 
 whole, you see, is a vast literary, moral, intellectual, 
 spiritual, and historical problem. But it is too much 
 the w^ay with you objectors to say, * This may, perhaps, 
 be got over,' and * That may be got over ' ; the question 
 is, as Bishop Butler says, whether all can be got over ; 
 for if all the arguments for it be not false, Christianity 
 is true. 
 
 " You charge us with the very conduct," retorted 
 Fellowes, "which Mr. Newman objects to Christians. 
 They, says he, affirm that this objection is of little 
 weight, and that is of little weight ; whereas altogether 
 they amount to considerable weight." 
 
 " I admit it," said I ; " and those are very unfair who 
 deny it. But still, since there are these things of weight 
 on both sides, the argument returns, on which side does 
 the balance on tLs sum-total of evidence lie ? " 
 
 " But," said Fellowes, " how few are competent to 
 compute that ! " 
 
 " You are really pleasant, Mr. Fellowes," I replied ; 
 " I thought the question we were arguing was as to the 
 truth or the falsehood of Christianity, not whether the 
 bulk of mankind are fully competent to form an inde- 
 pendent and profound judgment on its evidences ; very 
 
224 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 few are competent to do so either on this or any other 
 complex subject ; certainly not (as om' differences show) 
 on the subject of your ' spiritualism.' But the incom- 
 petency of the great bulk of mankind to deal with com- 
 plicated evidence makes a thing neither true nor false ; 
 perhaps on this, as on so many other subjects, the few 
 must thoroughly sift the matter for the many. If your 
 present objection were of force, what would become of 
 truth in politics, law, medicine, in all which the great 
 majority must trust much to the conclusions of their 
 wiser fellow-creatures ? Your observation is no confu- 
 tation of the evidences for Christianity : it is simply a 
 satire upon God and the condition of the human crea- 
 tures he has made ! " 
 
 " Well, let that pass," said Fellowes ; " I was going 
 to say further, that it is not so clear to every one that 
 Christ is so very wonderful an ideal of humanity. Do 
 you remember that Mr. Newman says in his ' Phases,' 
 that, when he was a boy, he read Benson's Life of 
 Fletcher of Madely, and thought Fletcher a more per- 
 fect man than Jesus Christ ? and he also says that he 
 imagines, if he were to read the book again, he would 
 think the same. Have you nothing to say to that ? " 
 
 " Nothing, " said I, " except to point you to the 
 infinitely different estimates of Christ formed by other 
 men who yet think of historical Christianity much as 
 you do. How differently do such writers as Mr. Greg 
 and Mr. Parker speak ! How do they almost exhaust 
 the resources of language to express their sentiments of 
 this wonderful character ! As to Mr. Newman's im- 
 pression^ I do not think it worth an answer. When a 
 man so far forgets himself as to say what he can hardly 
 help knowing will be unspeakably painful to multi- 
 tudes of his fellow-creatures, on the strength of boyish 
 'mpressions, — not even thinking it worth while to verify 
 
SKIRMISHES. 
 
 225 
 
 those iinpressijns, and see whether, after thirty or forty 
 years, he is nc b something more than a boy, — I think 
 it is scarcely ^orth while to reply. Christianity is will- 
 ing to consider the arguments of men, but not the 
 impressions of hoysy 
 
 "But we must not be too hard," said Harrington, 
 " upon Mr. Newman ; it is evident, from his Hebrew 
 Monarchy, that, as he takes a benevolent pleasure in 
 defending those whom nobody else will defend, — in 
 petting Ahab, whom he pronounces rather weak than 
 wicked, and palliating Jezebel, whose character was, 
 it seems, grievously deteriorated by contact with the 
 'prophets of Jehovah,' — so he has a chivalrous habit 
 of depressing those who have been particularly the ob- 
 jects of veneration. Elisha, Samuel, and David are all 
 brought down a great many degrees in the moral scale. 
 He has simply done the same with Christ." 
 
 " Well," said Fellowes, " I cannot help agreeing 
 with Mr. Newman in thinking that, when one hears 
 men made the objects of extravagant eulogy, it almost 
 ' tempts one, even though a stranger to their very name, 
 to " pick holes," as the saying is.' " 
 
 " It may be so," said I ; " but it is a tendency against 
 which we shou-d guard. It would lead us, like him of 
 Athens, to ostracize Aristides : we should be weary of 
 hearing him continually called ' The Just.' " 
 
 " However," rejoined Fellowes, " I am weary of hear- 
 ing Christ so perpetually called our example. As Mr. 
 Newman says, he cannot, except in a very modified 
 sense, be such. * His garments will not fit us.' " 
 
 "Did you ever hear," said I, "that fathers and 
 mothers ought to set an example to their children ? " 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 " Yet surely not in all things can they be such. 
 Their garments surely will not fit their children." 
 
226 THE ECLIPSE OP FAITH. 
 
 " No," said Harrington ; " those of the father at all 
 events will not, if they are girls, nor of the mother, if 
 ^they are boys. Fellowes, I think you had better say 
 nothing on this subject. If men of fifty can, in all es- 
 sential points, be beautiful examples to girls of ten, — 
 in gentleness, in patience, in humility, in kindness, and 
 so forth, — and all the more impressively for the wide 
 interval between them, why, I suppose Jesus Christ 
 may be as much to his disciples." 
 
 "But, again," urged Fellowes to me, "you, like so 
 many men, seem to lay such stress on the superiority 
 of the. morality of. the New Testament. I cannot see 
 it. I confess, with Mr. Foxton and many more, that 
 it seems to me that it has not such a very great advan^ 
 tage over that of many heathen moralists who have 
 said the same things, — Plato, for example." 
 
 I replied, that, of course, it would be of no avail to 
 affirm in general (what I was yet convinced was true), 
 that the New Testament inculcated a system of ethics 
 much more just and comprehensive than any other 
 volume in the world. I told him, however, that I 
 thought he would not deny that its manner of conveying 
 ethical truth was unique; that it not only contained 
 more admirable and varied summaries of duty than any 
 other book whatever, but that we should seek in vain 
 in any other for such a profusion of just maxims and 
 weighty sentiments, expressed with such comprehensive 
 brevity, or illustrated with so much beauty and pathos. 
 I remarked that, if he would be pleased to do as I had 
 once done, — compile a selection of the principal pre- 
 cepts and maxims from the most admirable ethical 
 works of antiquity (those of Aristotle, for example),, 
 and compare them with two or three of the summaries 
 of similar precepts in the New Testament, — he would 
 at once feel how much more vivid, touching, animated, 
 
CHRISTIAN ETK ICS. 227 
 
 and even comprehensive, was the Scriptural expression 
 of the same truths. But I further observed, that, even 
 to obtain the means of such comparison, he must reject^ 
 from Plato or the Stagyrite twenty times the bulk of 
 questionable speculations, and dreary subtilties, which 
 separate by long intervals those gems of moral truth, 
 which everywhere sparkle on the pages of the New 
 Testament. 
 
 I told him I could not help laying great stress on 
 the degree and manner in which this element enters 
 into the composition of the New Testament; that ethi- 
 cal truths are there expressed in every variety of form 
 which can fix them upon the imagination and the heart, 
 with an entire absence of those prolix discussions and 
 metaphysical refinements which form so large a portion 
 of Aristotle and Plato. If we find in these writers a 
 moral truth expressed with something approaching the 
 comprehensive beauty and simplicity of the Gospels, 
 we are filled with surprise aad rapture, and dig out 
 with joy the glittering fragment from the mass of earthy 
 matter, — oppressive disquisitions about "ideas" and 
 " essences," " energies " and " entelechies," and so forth, 
 in which it is sure to be imbedded. I promised, if 
 health and life were given, to exhibit some day these 
 gems, with a sufficient portion of the surrounding earth 
 stUl attached to them, and to contrast them with those 
 of the New Testament. " In this strange volume," I 
 continued, "the most beautiful ethical maxims exist 
 in unexampled profusion. After reading Aristotle's 
 ethics, I feel, when I turn to the New Testament, 
 as Linnaeus is said to have felt when he first saw 
 growing wild the masses of blooming gorse, which he 
 had never seen in his cold North, except as a sheltered 
 exotic. Whether it was likely that contemporaries of 
 the Pharisees^ who were sunk in formalism, and who 
 
228 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 had glossed away every moral and spiritual precept of 
 the Law, could reach and maintain such elevation of 
 ,tone, I leave you^to judge." But though I felt all 
 this, I acknowledged that it was difficult to express 
 it ; and said that perhaps the best way to compare the 
 morality of the New Testament with the ethical system 
 of any philosopher, or the code of any legislator, would 
 be to imagine them all universally adopted, and then 
 see how much would have to be objected to, — how 
 much " brick " was mingled with the " porphyry." " If, 
 for example," said I, " Plato, who, I admit, so often 
 flashes upon us the sublimest and most comprehensive 
 principles of morals, and whose ethical system you say 
 is identical with that of Christianity, had the forming of 
 a republic, you would have community of women and 
 property, — women trained to war, — infanticide under 
 certain circumstances, — young children led to battle 
 (though at a safe distance), that 'the young whelps 
 might early scent carnage, and be inured to slaughter ' ! 
 Both with him and Aristotle slavery would be a regu- 
 larly sanctioned and perfectly natural institution. Not 
 only did they entertain very lax notions of the relations 
 of the sexes, but the tone in which they speak of the 
 most abominable corruptions — I do not except canni- 
 balism — to which humanity has ever degraded itself, 
 implied that they regarded such things as comparative- 
 ly venial I know no greater single names than these, 
 and I presume that these points you would find some 
 difficulty in digesting." He admitted it. 
 
 I told him I supposed he would take equal objec- 
 tions to the Gentoo, or the Roman, or the Spartan 
 code, as also to the Koran. He admitted all this too. 
 
 " But now, if we take the Christian code, and sup- 
 pose the New Testament made the literal guide of life 
 in every man, tell me, Mr. Fellowes, what would be 
 
CHRISTIAN ETHICS. 229 
 
 the consequence? What would you wish Ccher- 
 wise ? " 
 
 " Why," said Harrington, smiling, " he would, per% 
 haps, object that there would be no more war, and that 
 retaliation would be impossible." 
 
 " The former," said I, " we could all endure, I sup- 
 pose ; nor be unwilling to give up the latter, seeing that 
 there would, in that case, be no wrongs to avenge. It 
 would not matter that you would be compelled to turn 
 your right cheek to him who smote you on the left (let 
 the interpretation be as literal as you will), since no 
 one would strike you on the left ; nor that you must 
 surrender your cloak to him who took away your coat, 
 since no one would take your coat. But tell me, is 
 there any thing more serious that would follow from the 
 literal and universal adoption of the ethics of the New 
 Testament?" Fellowes acknowledged that he knew 
 of nothing, unless it was a sanction of slavery. 
 
 " I do not admit that the New Testament sanctions 
 it," I replied ; " and I will, if you like, give my reasons 
 in full, another time. But is there any thing else ? " 
 He said he did not recollect any thing. 
 
 " But you would recoil from the literal realization of 
 the systems and codes we have mentioned." He con- 
 fessed this also. 
 
 " The superiority of the Christian code, then," said I, 
 " is practically acknowledged. And it is further often 
 confessed, in a most significant way, by the mode in 
 which the enemies of Christianity taunt its disciples. 
 When they speak of the vices and corruptions of the 
 heathen, they blame, and justly blame, the principles of 
 their vicious systems ; and ask how it could be other- 
 wise ? When they blame the Christian, the first and 
 the last thing they usually do, is to point in triumph 
 to the contrast between his principles and practice. 
 
 20 
 
230 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 * How much better,' say they, ' is his code than his 
 conduct ! ' It is as a hypocrite that they censure liim. 
 It is sad for him that it should be so ; but it is a glo- 
 rious compKment to the morality of the New Testa- 
 ment. Its enemies know not how to attack its disci- 
 ples, except by endeavoring to show that they do not 
 act as it bids them. Surely," said I, in conclusion, 
 "this uniform excellence of the Christian ethics, as 
 compared with other systems, is a peculiarity worth 
 noting, and utterly incomprehensible upon the hypothe- 
 sis that it was the unaided work of man. That there 
 are points on which the moral systems of men and 
 nations osculate^ is most true ; that there should have 
 been certain approximations on many most important 
 subjects was to be expected from the essential identity 
 of human nature, in all ages and countries ; but their 
 deviations in some point or other — usually in several 
 — from what we acknowledge to be both right and ex- 
 pedient, is equally undeniable. That, when such men 
 as Plato and Aristotle tried their hands upon the prob- 
 lem, they should err, while the writers of the New Tes- 
 tament should have succeeded, — that these last should 
 do what all mankind besides had in some points or 
 other failed to do, — is sufficiently wonderful ; that GaU 
 ilean Jews should have solved the problem is, whether 
 we consider their age, their ignorance, or their prepos- 
 sessions, to me utterly incredible." 
 
 It was now very late ; and we rose to retire. Mr. 
 Fellowes said, " I should be glad to know what answer 
 you would make to Mr. Newman's observations on three 
 points, — one of them just alluded to, — on which he 
 affirms that undue credit has been given to Christianity ; 
 I mean its supposed elevating influence in relation to 
 women, its supposed mitigation of slavery, and its sup- 
 posed triumphs before Constantine." 
 
THE BLANK BIBLE. 231 
 
 I said I would scribble a few remarks on the subject, 
 and would give them to him in a day or two. I re- 
 marked that Mr. Newman had treated these great sub- 
 jects very briefly, but that I could not be quite so con- 
 cise as he had been. 
 
 The discussions of the preceding day had made so 
 deep an impression upon me, that when I went to bed 
 I found it very difficult to sleep ; and when I did get 
 off at last, my thoughts shaped themselves into a sin- 
 gular dream, which, though only a dream, is not, I 
 think, without instruction. I shall entitle it 
 
 The Blank Bible. 
 
 *EtXi;v ytyaaveiv WKTl(f)oiT oveipara. 
 
 JEschyl. Prom. Vinct. 657. 
 
 I thought I was at home, and that on taking up my 
 Greek Testament one morning to read (as is my wont) 
 a chapter, I found, to my surprise, that what seemed to 
 be the old, familiar book was a total blank ; not a char- 
 acter was inscribed in it or upon it. I supposed that 
 some book like it had, by some accident, got into its 
 place; and, without stopping to hunt for it, took down 
 a large quarto volume which contained both the Old 
 and New Testaments. To my surprise, however, this 
 also was a blank from beginning to end. With that 
 facility of accommodation to any absurdities which is 
 proper to dreams, I did not think very much of the 
 coincidence of two blank volumes having been sub&ti- 
 tuted for two copies of the Scriptures in two different 
 places, and therefore quietly reached down a copy of 
 the Hebrew Bible, in which I could just manage to 
 make out a chapter. To my increased surprise, and 
 even something like terror, I found that this also was a 
 
232 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 perfe( b blaa t. While I was musing on this unaccount- 
 able phenomenon, my servant entered the room, and said 
 that thieves had been in the house during the night, for 
 that her large Bible, which she had left on the kitchen 
 table, had been removed, and another volume left by 
 mistake in its place, of just the same size, but made of 
 nothing but white paper. She added, with a laugh, 
 that it must have been a very queer kind of thief to 
 steal a Bible at all ; and that he should have left anoth- 
 er book instead, made it the more odd. I asked her if 
 any thing else had been missed, and if there were any 
 signs of people having entered the house. She answered 
 in the negative to both these questions ; and I began to 
 be strangely perplexed. 
 
 On going out into the street, I met a friend, who, 
 almost before we had exchanged greetings, told me that 
 a most unaccountable robbery had been committed at 
 his house during the night, for that every copy of the 
 Bible had been removed, and a volume of exactly the 
 same size, but of pure white paper, left in its stead. 
 Upon telling him that the same accident had happened 
 to myself, we began to think that there was more in it 
 than we had at first surmised. 
 
 On proceeding further, we found every one complain- 
 ing, in similar perplexity, of the same loss ; and before 
 night it became evident that a great and terrible " mir- 
 acle " had been wrought in the world ; that in one 
 night, silently, but effectually, that hand which had 
 written its terrible menace on the walls of Belshazzar's 
 palace had reversed the miracle ; had sponged out of 
 our Bibles every syllable they contained, and thus re- 
 claimed the most precious gift which Heaven had be- 
 stowed, and ungrateful man had abused. 
 
 I was curious to watch the effects of this calamity 
 on the varied characters of mankind. There was uni- 
 
THE BLANK BIBLE. 
 
 versally, however, an interest in the Bible now it was 
 lost^ such as had never attached to it while it was pos- 
 sessed; and he who had been but happy enough to 
 possess fifty copies might have made his fortune. One 
 keen speculator, as soon as the first whispers of the 
 miracle began to spread, hastened to the depositories of 
 the Bible Society and the great book-stocks in Pater- 
 noster Row, and offered to buy up at a high premium 
 any copies of the Bible that might be on hand ; but 
 the worthy merchant was informed that there was 
 not a single copy remaining. Some, to whom their 
 Bible had been a " blank " book for twenty years, and., 
 who would never have known whether it was full or 
 empty had not the lamentations of their neighbors 
 impelled them to look into it, were not the least loud 
 in their expressions of sorrow at this calamity. One 
 old gentleman, who had never troubled the book in his 
 afe, said it was " confounded hard to be deprived of his 
 religion in his old age " ; and another, who seemed to 
 have lived as though he had always been of Mande- 
 ville's opinion, that " private vices were public benefits," 
 was all at once alarmed for the morals of mankind. He 
 feared, he said, that the loss of the Bible would have " a 
 cursed bad effect on the public virtue of the country." 
 
 As the fact was universal and palpable, it was impos- 
 sible that, like other miracles, it should leave the usual 
 loopholes for scepticism. Miracles in general, in order 
 to be miracles at all, have been singular or very rare 
 violations of a general law, witnessed by a few, on 
 whose testimony they are received, and in the reception 
 of whose testimony consists the exercise of that faith to 
 which they appeal. It was evident, that, whatever the 
 reason of this miracle, it was not an exercise of docile 
 and humble faith founded on evidence no more than just 
 sufficient tc operate as a moral test. This was a mira" 
 
 20 * 
 
234 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 cle which, it could not be denied, looked marvellously 
 like a "judgment." However, there were, in some cases, 
 indications enough to show how difficult it is to give 
 such evidence as will satisfy the obstinacy of mankind. 
 One old sceptical fellow, who had been for years bed- 
 ridden, was long in being convinced (if, indeed, he ever 
 was) that any thing extraordinary had occurred in the 
 world ; he at first attributed the reports of what he heard 
 to the " impudence " of his servants and dependents, and 
 wondered that they should dare to venture upon such a 
 joke. On finding these assertions backed by those of 
 his acquaintance, he pished and pshawed, and looked 
 very wise, and ironically congratulated them on this 
 creditable conspiracy with the insolent rascals, his ser- 
 vants. On being shown the old Bible, of which he 
 recognized the binding, though he had never seen the 
 inside, and finding it a very fair book of blank paper, he 
 quietly observed that it was very easy to substitute the 
 one book for the other, though he did not pretend to 
 divine the motives which induced people to attempt such 
 a clumsy piece of imposition ; and, on their persisting 
 that they were not deceiving him, swore at them as a 
 set of knaves, who would fain persuade him out of his 
 senses. On their bringing him a pile of blank Bibles, 
 backed by the asseverations of other neighbors, he was 
 ready to burst with indignation. " As to the volumes," 
 he said, " it was not difficult to procure a score or two 
 ' of commonplace books,' and they had doubtless done 
 so to carry on the cheat ; for himself, he would sooner 
 believe that the whole world was leagued against him, 
 than credit any such nonsense." They were angry, iu 
 their turn, at his incredulity, and told him that he was 
 very much mistaken if he thought himself of so much 
 importance that they would all perjure themselves to 
 lelude liim, since they saw plainly enough that he could 
 
THE BLANK BIBLE. 
 
 aas 
 
 do that very easily for himself, without any help of theirs. 
 They really did not care one farthing whether he be- 
 lieved them or not ; if he did not choose to believe the 
 story, he might leave it alone. " Well, well," said he, 
 "it is all very fine; but unless yon show me, not one 
 of these blank books, which could not impose upon an 
 owl, but one of the very blank Bibles themselves^ I will 
 not believe." At this curious demand, one of his 
 nephews who stood by (a lively young fellow) was so 
 exceedingly tickled, that, though he had some expecta- 
 tions from the sceptic, he could not help bursting out 
 into laughter ; but he became grave enough when his 
 angry uncle told him that he would leave him in his 
 will nothing but the family Bible, which he might make 
 a leger if he pleased. Whether this resolute old 
 sceptic ever vanquished his incredulity, I do not re- 
 member. 
 
 Very different from the case of this sceptic was that 
 of a most excellent female relative, who had been 
 equally long a prisoner to her chamber, and to whom 
 the Bible had been, as to so many thousands more, her 
 faithful companion in solitude, and the all-sufficient 
 solace of her sorrows. I found her gazing intently on 
 the blank Bible, which had been so recently bright to 
 her with the lustre of immortal hopes. She burst into 
 tears as she saw me. " And has your faith left you too, 
 my gentle friend ? " said I. " No," she answered, " and 
 I trust it never wiU. He who has taken away the 
 Bible has not taken away my memory, and I now re- 
 call all that is most precious in that book which has so 
 long been my meditation. It is a heavy judgment upon 
 the land ; and surely," added this true Christian, never 
 thinking of the faults of others, " I, at least, cannot com- 
 plain, for I have not prized as I ought that book, which 
 yet, of late year^, I think I can say, I loved more than 
 
236 THE ECLIPSE OF FAl^H. 
 
 any other possession on earth. But I know," she con- 
 tinued, smiling through her tears, " that the sun shines, 
 though clouds may veil him for the moment ; and I am 
 unshaken in my faith in those truths which have been 
 transcribed on my memory, though they are blotted 
 from my book. In these hopes I have lived, and in 
 these hopes I will dieP " I have no consolation to 
 offer to you," said I, " for you need none." She quoted 
 many of the passages which have been, through all 
 ages, the chief stay of sorrowing humanity ; and I 
 thought the words of Scripture had never sounded so 
 solemn or so sweet before. " I shall often come to see 
 you," I said, " to hear a chapter in the Bible, for you 
 know it far better than I." 
 
 No sooner had I taken my leave, than I was informed 
 that an old lady of my acquaintance had summoned 
 me in haste. She said she was much impressed by 
 this extraordinary calamity. As, to my certain knowl- 
 edge, she had never troubled the contents of the book, I 
 was surprised that she had so taken to heart the loss of 
 that which had, practically, been lost to her all her days. 
 " Sir," said she, the moment I entered, " the Bible, the 
 Bible." " Yes, madam," said I, " this is a very grievous 
 and terrible visitation. I hope we may learn the les- 
 sons which it is calculated to teach us." " I am sure," 
 answered she, " I am not likely to forget it for a while, 
 for it has been a grievous loss to me." " I told her I 
 was very glad." " Glad ! " she rejoined. " Yes," I said, 
 " I am glad to find that you think it so great a loss, for 
 that loss may then be a gain indeed. There is, thanks 
 be to God, enough left in our memories to carry us to 
 heaven." " Ah ! but," said she, " the hundred pounds 
 and the villany of my maid-servant. Have you not 
 heard ? " This gave me some glimpse as to the secret 
 of her sorrow. She told me that she had deposited 
 
THE BLANK BIBLE. 237 
 
 several bai:k-notes in the leaves of her family Bible, 
 thinking that, to be sure, nobody was likely to look 
 there for them. " No sooner," said she, " were the 
 Bibles n;ade useless by this strange event, than my 
 servant peeped into every copy in the house, and she 
 now denies that she found any thing in my old family 
 Bible, except two or three blank leaves of thin paper, 
 which, she says, she destroyed; that, if any characters 
 were ever on them, they must have been erased, when 
 those of the Bible were obliterated. But I am sure 
 she lies ; for who would believe that Heaven took the 
 trouble to blot out my precious bank-notes. They were 
 not God's word, I trow." It was clear that she con- 
 sidered the " promise to pay " better by far than any 
 " promises " which the book contained. " I should not 
 have cared so much about the Bible," she whined, hypo- 
 critically, " because, as you truly observe, our memories 
 may retain enough to carry us to heaven," — a little in 
 that case would certainly go a great way, I thought to 
 myself, — " and if not, there are those who can supply 
 the loss. But who is to get my bank-notes back again ? 
 Other people have only lost their Bibles." It was, in- 
 deed, a case beyond my power of consolation. 
 
 The calamity not only strongly stirred the feelings of 
 men, and upon the whole, I think, beneficially, but it 
 immediately stimulated their ingenuity. It was won- 
 derful to see the energy with which men discussed the 
 subject, and the zeal, too, with which they ultimately 
 exerted themselves to repair the loss. I could even 
 hardly regret it, when I considered what a spectacle of 
 intense activity, intellectual and moral, the visitation 
 had occasioned. It was very early suggested, that the 
 whole Bible had again and again been quoted piece- 
 meal in one book or other ; that it had impressed its 
 own iriage on the surface of human literature, and had 
 
288 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 been reflected on its course as the stars on a stream. 
 But, alas ! on investigation, it was found as vain to ex- 
 pect that the g]ea,m of starlight would still remain mir- 
 rored in the water when the clouds had veiled the stars 
 themselves, as that the bright characters of the Bible 
 would remain reflected in the books of man when they 
 had been erased from the Book of God. On inspection, 
 it was found that every text, every phrase which had 
 been quoted, not only in the books of devotion and the- 
 ology, but in those of poetry and fiction, had been re- 
 morselessly expunged. Never before had I had any 
 adequate idea of the extent to which" the Bible had 
 moulded the intellectual and moral life of the last eigh- 
 teen centuries, nor how intimately it had interfused 
 itself with habits of thought and modes of expression ; 
 nor how naturally and extensively its comprehensive 
 imagery and language had been introduced into human 
 writings, and most of all where there had been most of 
 genius. A vast portion of literature became instantly 
 worthless, and was transformed into so much waste- 
 paper. It was almost impossible to look into any book 
 of any merit, and read ten pages together, without com- 
 ing to some provoking erasures and mutilations, some 
 " hiatus valde deflendi," which made whole passages 
 perfectly unintelligible. Many of the sweetest passages 
 of Shakspeare were converted into unmeaning nonsense, 
 from the absence of those words which his own all but 
 divine genius had appropriated from a still diviner 
 source. As to Milton, he was nearly ruined, as might 
 naturally be supposed. Walter Scott's novels were 
 filled with perpetual lacunce. I hoped it might be other- 
 wise with the philosophers, and so it was ; but even 
 here it was curious to see what strange ravages the 
 visitation had wrought. Some of the most beautiful 
 and comprehensive of Bacon's Aphorisms were reduced 
 to enigmatical nonsense. 
 
THE BLANK BIBLE. 239 
 
 Those who held large stocks of books knew not what 
 to do. Ruin stared them in the face ; their value fell 
 seventy or eighty per cent. All branches of theology, 
 in particular, were a drug. One fellow said, that he 
 should not so much have minded if the miracle had 
 sponged out what was human as well as what was 
 divine, for in that case he would at least have had so 
 many thousand volumes of fair blank paper, which was 
 as much as many of them were worth before. A wag 
 answered, that it was not usual, in despoiling a house, 
 to carry away any thing except the valuables. Mean- 
 time, millions of blank Bibles filled the shelves of sta- 
 tioners, to be sold for day-books and legers, so that 
 there seemed to be no more employment for the paper- 
 makers in that direction for many years to come. A 
 friend, who used to mourn over the thought of pa- 
 limpsest manuscripts, — of portions of Livy and Cicero 
 erased to make way for the nonsense of some old 
 monkish chronicler, — exclaimed, as he saw a tradesman 
 trudging off with a handsome morocco-bound quarto 
 for a day-book, " Only think of the pages once filled 
 with the poetry of Isaiah, and the parables of Christ, 
 sponged clean to make way for orders for silks and 
 satins, muslins, cheese, and bacon ! " The old. authors, 
 of course, were left to their mutilations ; there was no 
 way in which the confusion could be remedied. But 
 the living began to prepare new editions of their works, 
 in which they endeavored to give a new turn to the 
 thoughts which had been mutilated by erasure, and I 
 was not a little amused to see that many, having stolen 
 from writers whose compositions were as much muti- 
 lated as their own, could not tell the meaninsr of their 
 own pages. 
 
 It seemed at first to be a not unnatuial impression, 
 that even those who could recall the erased texts as they 
 
240 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 perused the injured books, — who could mentally fill 
 up the imperfect clauses, — were not at liberty to in- 
 scribe them ; they seemed to fear that, if they did so, 
 the characters would be as if written in invisible ink, or 
 would surely fade away. It was with trembling that 
 some at length made the attempt, and to their unspeak- 
 able joy found the impression durable. Day after day 
 passed ; still the characters remained ; and the people at 
 length came to the conclusion, that God left them at 
 liberty, if they could, to reconstruct the Bible for them- 
 selves out of their collective remembrances of its divine 
 contents. This led again to some curious results, all ot 
 them singularly indicative of the good and ill that is in 
 human nature. It was with incredible joy that men 
 came to the conclusion that the book might be thus 
 recovered nearly entire, and nearly in the very words 
 of the original, by the combined effort of human memo- 
 ries. Some of the obscurest of the species, who had 
 studied nothing else but the Bible, but who had well 
 studied that, came to be objects of reverence among 
 Christians and booksellers ; and the various texts they 
 quoted were taken down with the utmost care. He 
 who could fill up a chasm by the restoration of words 
 which were only partially remembered, or could con- 
 tribute the least text that had been forgotten, was re- 
 garded as a sort of public benefactor. At length, a 
 great public movement amongst the divines of all de- 
 nominations was projected, to collate the results of these 
 partial recoveries of the sacred text. It was curious, 
 again, to see in how various ways human passions and 
 prejudices came into play. It was found that the 
 several parties who had furnished from memory the 
 same portions of the sacred texts had fallen into a great 
 variety of different readings ; and though most of them 
 were of as little importance in themselves as the bulk 
 
THE BLANK BIBLE.'* 241 
 
 uf those which are paraded in the critical recensions of 
 Mill, Griesbach, or Tischendorf, they became, from the 
 obstinacy and folly of the men who contended about 
 them, important differences, merely because the f were 
 differences. Two reverend men of the synod, I remem- 
 ber, had a rather tough dispute as to whether it was 
 twelve baskets full of fragments of the five loaves which 
 the five thousand left, and seven baskets full of the seven 
 loaves which the four thousand had left, or vice versa : 
 as also whether the words in John vi. 19 were " about 
 twenty or five and twenty," or " about thirty or five and 
 thirty furlongs." 
 
 To do the assembly justice, however, there was found 
 an intense general earnestness and sincerity befitting 
 the occasion, and an equally intense desire to obtain, 
 as nearly as possible, the very words of the lofet volume ; 
 only (as was also, alas ! natural) vanity in some ; in 
 others, confidence in their strong impressions and in 
 the accuracy of their memory ; obstinacy and perti- 
 nacity in many more (all aggravated as usual by con- 
 troversy), — caused many odd embarrassments before 
 the final adjustment was effected. 
 
 I was particularly struck with the varieties of reading 
 which mere prejudices in favor of certain systems of 
 theology occasioned in the several partisans of each. 
 No doubt the worthy men were generally unconscious 
 of the influence of these prejudices ; yet, somehow, the 
 memory was seldom so clear in relation to those texts 
 which told against them as in relation to those which 
 told for them. A certain Quaker had an impression 
 that the words instituting the Eucharist were preceded 
 by a qualifying expression, " And Jesus said to the 
 twelve, Do this in remembrance of me" ; while he could 
 not exactly recollect whether or not the formula of 
 "baptism" was expressed in the general terms some 
 
 21 
 
242 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 maintained it was. Several Unitarians had a clear 
 recollection, that in several places the authority of 
 manuscripts, as estimated in Griesbach's recension, was 
 decidedly against the common reading ; while the Trin- 
 itarians maintained that Griesbach's recension in those 
 instances had left that reading undisturbed. An Epis- 
 copalian began to have his doubts whether the usage 
 in favor of the interchange of the words " bishop " and 
 " presbyter " was so uniform as the Presbyterian and 
 Independent maintained, and whether there was not a 
 passage in which Timothy and Titus were expressly 
 called " bishops. " The Presbyterian and Independent 
 had similar biases; and one gentleman, who was a 
 strenuous advocate of the system of the latter, enforced 
 one equivocal remembrance by saying, he could, as it 
 were, distinctly see the very spot on the page before 
 his mind's eye. Such tricks will imagination play with 
 the memory, when preconception plays tricks with the 
 imagination! In like manner, it was seen that, while 
 the Calvinist was very distinct in his recollection of the 
 ninth chapter of Romans, his memory was very faint as 
 respects the exact wording of some of the verses in the 
 Epistle of James; and though the Arminian had a 
 most vivacious impression of all those passages which 
 spoke of the claims of the law, he wass in some doubt 
 whether the Apostle Paul's sentiments respecting human 
 depravity, and justification by faith alone, had not been 
 a little exaggerated. In short, it very clearly appeared 
 that tradition was no safe guide ; that if, even while 
 she was hardly a month old, she could play such freaks 
 with the memories of honest people, there was but a 
 sorry prospect of the secure transmission of truth for 
 eighteen hundred years. From each man's memory 
 seemed to glide something or other which he was not 
 inclined to retain there, and each seemed to substitute 
 in its stead something that he liked better. 
 
THE BLANK BIBLE. 243 
 
 Though the assembly was in the main most anxious 
 to come to a right decision, and really advanced an 
 immense way towards completing a true and faithful 
 copy of the lost original, the disputes which arose, on 
 almost every point of theology, promised the world an 
 abundant crop of new sects and schisms. Already there 
 had sprung up several whose names had never been 
 heard of in the world, but for this calamity. Amongst 
 them were two who were called the " Long Memories " 
 and the " Short Memories.^^ Their general tendencies 
 coincided pretty much with those of the orthodox and 
 the rationalists. 
 
 It was curious to see by what odd associations, some- 
 times of contrast, sometimes of resemblance, obscure 
 texts were recovered, though they were verified, when 
 once mentioned, by the consciousness of hundreds. 
 One old gentleman, a miser, contributed (and it was all 
 he did contribute) a maxim of prudence, which he rec- 
 ollected, principally from having systematically abused 
 it. All the ethical maxims, indeed, were soon collect- 
 ed; for though, as usual, no one recollected his own 
 peculiar duties or infirmities, every one, as usual, kindly 
 remembered those of his neighbors. Husbands remem- 
 bered what was due from their wives, and wives what 
 was due from their husbands. The unpleasant sayings 
 about " better to dwell on the house-top " and " the 
 perpetual dropping on a very rainy day" were called 
 to mind by thousands. Almost the whole of Proverbs 
 and Ecclesiastes were contributed, in the merest frag- 
 ments, in this way. As for Solomon's " times for every 
 thing," few could remember them all, but every body 
 remembered some. Undertakers said there was a " time 
 to mourn," and comedians that there was a " time to 
 laugh " ; young ladies innumerable remembered that 
 there was a " time to love," and people of all kinds 
 
244 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH, 
 
 that there was a " time to hate " ; every body knew 
 there was a " time to speak," but a worthy Quaker 
 reminded them that there was also a " time to keep 
 silence." 
 
 Some dry parts of the laws of Moses were recovered 
 by the memory of jurists, who seemed to have no 
 knowledge whatever of any other parts of the sacred 
 volume ; while in like manner one or two antiquarians 
 supplied some very difficult genealogical and chrono- 
 logical matters, in equal ignorance of the moral and 
 spiritual contents of the Scriptures. 
 
 As people became accustomed to the phenomenon, 
 the perverse humors of mankind displayed themselves 
 in a variety of ways. The efforts of the pious assembly 
 were abundantly laughed at; but I must, in justice, 
 add, without driving them from their purpose. Some 
 profane wags suggested there was now a good oppor- 
 tunity of realizing the scheme of taking " not " out of 
 the Commandments and inserting it in the Creed. But 
 they were sarcastically told, that the old objection to 
 the plan would still apply ; that they would not sin 
 with equal relish if they were expressly commanded to 
 do so, nor take such pleasure in infidelity if infidelity 
 became a duty. Others said that, if the world must 
 wait till the synod had concluded its labors, the proph- 
 ecies of the New Testament would not be written till 
 some time after their fulfilment ; and that, if all the con- 
 jectures of the learned divines were inserted in the new 
 edition of the Bible, the declaration in John would be 
 literally verified, and that " the world itself would not 
 contain all the books which would be written." 
 
 But the most amusing thing of all was to see, as 
 time made man more familiar with this strange event, 
 the variety of speculations which were entertained re- 
 specting its object and design. Many began gravely to 
 
THE BLANK BIBLE. I r 245 
 
 question whether it was the duty of the synod to at- 
 tempt the reconstruction of a book of which God him- 
 self had so manifestly deprived the world, and whether 
 it was not a profane, nay, an atheistical, attempt to 
 frustrate his will. Some, who were secretly glad to be 
 released from so troublesome a book, were particularly 
 pious on this head, and exclaimed bitterly against this 
 rash attempt to counteract and cancel the decrees of 
 Heaven. The Papists, on their part, were confident 
 that the design was to correct the exorbitancies of a 
 rabid Protestantism, and show the world, by direct 
 miracle, the necessity of submitting to the v'ecision of 
 their Church and the infallibility of the supreme Pon- 
 tiff; who, as they truly alleged, could decide all knotty 
 points quite as well without the "Word of God as with 
 it. On being reminded that the writings of the Fathers, 
 on which they laid so much stress as the vouchers of 
 their traditions, were mutilated by the same stroke 
 which had demolished the Bible (all their quotations 
 from the sacred volume being erased), some of the 
 Jesuits affirmed that many of the Fathers were rather 
 improved than otherwise by the omission, and that they 
 found these writings quite as intelligible and not less 
 edifying than before. In this, many Protestants very 
 cordially agreed. On the other hand, many of our 
 modern infidels gave an entirely new turn to the whole 
 affair, by saying that the visitation was evidently not 
 in judgment, but in mercy ; that God in compassion, 
 and not in indignation, had taken away a book which 
 man had regarded with an extravagant admiration and 
 idolatry, and which they had exalted to the place of 
 that clear internal oracle which He had planted in the 
 human breast ; in a word, that, if it was a rebuke at all, 
 it was a rebuke to a rampant " Bibfiolatry." As I 
 heard all these different versions of so simple a matter, 
 
 21* 
 
246 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 and found that "not a few were inclined to each, I could 
 not help exclaiming, " In truth the Devil is a very clev- 
 er fellow, and man even a greater blockhead than I had 
 taken him for." But in spite of the surprise with which 
 I had listened to these various explanations of an event 
 which seemed to me clear as if written with a sunbeam, 
 this last reason, which assigned as the cause of God's 
 resumption of his own gift, an extravagant admiration 
 and veneration of it on the part of mankind, — it being 
 so notorious that those who professed belief in its divine 
 origin and authority had (even the best of them) so 
 grievously neglected both the study and the practice of 
 it, — struck me as so exquisitely ludicrous, that I broke 
 into a fit of laughter, which awoke me. I found that it 
 was broad daylight, and the morning sun was stream- 
 ing in at the window, and shining in quiet radiance 
 upon the open Bible which lay on my table. So strong- 
 ly had my dream impressed me, that I almost felt as 
 though, on inspection, I should find the sacred leaves a 
 blank, and it was therefore with joy that my eyes rested 
 on those words, which I read through grateful tears : 
 " The gifts of God are without repentance^ 
 
 July 19. This morning my friends treated me to a 
 long dialogue, in which it was contended 
 
 That Miracles are impossible, but that it is 
 impossible to prove it. 
 
 " I think, Fellowes," Harrington began, " if there be 
 any point in which you and I are likely to agree, it is in 
 that dogma that miracles are impossible. And yet here, 
 as usual, my sceptical doubts pursue and baffle me. I 
 wish you would try with me whether there be not an 
 <^scipe from them." Fellowes assented. 
 
A,rr MIRACLES. ; aut 247 
 
 " As I have to propose and explain my doubts," said 
 Harrington, "perhaps you will excuse my taking the 
 * lion's share ' of the conversation. But now, by way 
 of beginning in some way, — what, my dear friend, is 
 a miracle ? " 
 
 " What is a miracle ? Ay, that is the question ; but 
 though it may be difficult to find an exact definition of 
 t, it is easily understood by every body." 
 
 " Very likely ; then you can with more ease give me 
 your notion of it." 
 
 " If, for example," said Fellowes, " the sun which has 
 risen so long, every morning, were to rise no more ; or 
 if a man, whom we knew to be dead and buried, were 
 to come to life again ; or if what we know to be water 
 were at once to become wine, none would hesitate to 
 call that a miracle." 
 
 " You remember, perhaps," said Harrington, " an 
 amusing little play of Socratic humor in the dialogue 
 of Theaetetus, somewhere in the introduction, when the 
 ironical querist has asked that intelligent youth whai 
 science is ? 
 
 " I cannot say that I do ; for though I have read that 
 dialogue, it is some years ago." 
 
 " Let me read you the passage then. Here it is," 
 said Harrington, reaching down the dialogue and turn- 
 ing to the place. " * Tell me frankly,' says Socrates, 
 ' what do you think science is ? * It appears to me,' says 
 TheaBtetus, ' that such things as one may learn Irom 
 Thsodorus here, — namely, geometry, as well as other 
 things which you have just enumerated ; and again, 
 that the shoemaker's art, and those of other artisans, — 
 all and each of them are nothing else but science.' 
 ' You are munificent indeed,' said Socrates ; ' for when 
 asked for one thing, you have given many.^ I almost 
 think," continued Harring 'on, " that, if Socrates were 
 
248 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 here, he would do what I should not presume to do, — 
 banter you in a somewhat similar way. He would say, 
 that, having asked what a miracle was, Mr. Fellowes 
 told him that half a dozen things were miracles, but 
 did not tell him what every miracle was; that is, never 
 told him what made all miracles such. Suffer me 
 again to ask you what a miracle is ? " 
 
 " I recollect now enough of the charming dialogue 
 from which you have taken occasion to twit me, to an- 
 swer you in the same vein. As it turns out, Socrates 
 appears to be at least equally ignorant with Thesetetus 
 as to the definition of which he is in search. I think it 
 may be as well for me to do at once what certainly 
 Thea3tetus would have done, had he known that his re- 
 prover was as much in the dark as himself." 
 
 " What is that ? " said Harrington. 
 
 " He would have cut short a good deal of banter by 
 at once turning the tables upon his ironical tormentor ; 
 acknowledging his impotence, and making him give 
 the required definition. Come, let me take that course." 
 
 " I have no objection, my friend, if you will first, as 
 you say, acknowledge your impotence; only I would 
 not advise you, for in that case you would be obliged to 
 confess that you have resolved with me that a miracle is 
 impossible, and yet that you are not quite sure that you 
 can tell, or rather own that you cannot, what a miracle 
 is. Let me entreat you to essay some definition ; and 
 if you break down, I have no objection to take my 
 chance of the honor of success or the ignominy of 
 failure." 
 
 " The fact is," answered Fellowes, " that, like many 
 other things, it is better understood " 
 
 " Than described, as the novelists say, when they 
 
 feel that their powers of description fail them. But 
 
 his will hardly di for us; we are philosophers, you 
 
MIRACLES. 249 
 
 know, ( save the mark !) in search of truth. — A thing 
 that is well known by every body^ and is capable of be- 
 ing described by nobody^ would be almost a miracle of 
 itself; and I think it imports us to give some better 
 account of the matter. I can see that my orthodox 
 uncle there is already secretly amusing himself at the 
 anticipation of our perplexities." 
 
 I took no notice of the remark, but went on writing. 
 
 " Well, then, if I must give you some definition," 
 said Fellowes, " I know not if I can do better than 
 avail myself of the usual one, that it is a suspension 
 or violation of a law of nature. ~Ts not that ^he ac- 
 count which Hume gives of the matter ? " 
 
 " I think it is. I am afraid, however, that at the very 
 outset we should have some difficulty in determining 
 one of the phrases used in this very definition, — name- 
 ly, how we are to understand a lavj of nature. I do 
 not ask whether law implies a lawgiver ; you will as- 
 sert it, and I shall not gainsay it : it is at present im- 
 material. But do you not mean by a law of nature (I 
 am asking the question merely to ascertain whether or 
 not we are thinking of the same thing) just this; — the 
 fact that similar phenomena uniformly reappear in an 
 observed series of antecedents and consequents, which 
 series is invariable so far as ?(;e know, and so far as oth- 
 ers know, whose experience we can test ? Is not that 
 what you mean ? You do not, I presume, suppose you 
 know any thing of the connection which binds together 
 causes and effects, or the manner in which the secret 
 bond (if there be any) which unites antecedents and 
 consequents, in any natural phenomena, is main- 
 tained?" 
 
 " I certainly make no such pretensions ; all that I 
 mean by a law of nature is just what you have men- 
 tioned. I shall be well content k adhere to your ex- 
 planation," answered Fellowes. 
 
250 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 " So that when we observe similar phenomena repro- 
 duced in the aforesaid series of antecedents and conse- 
 quents, we call that a law of nature, and affirm that a 
 violation of that law would be a miracle, and impos- 
 sible?" 
 
 « Certainly." 
 
 " And further, do you not agree with me that such 
 invariable series is sufficiently certified to us by our 
 own uniform experience, — that of all our neighbors 
 and friends, — and, in a word, that of all whose expe- 
 rience we can test ? " 
 
 " I agree with you." 
 
 " I am content," replied Harrington ; " but at the 
 outset it seems to me that the expression I have used 
 requires a little expansion to meet the sophistry of our 
 opponents. I will either explain myself now, and then 
 leave you to j udge ; or I will say no more of the mat- 
 ter here, but pursue our discussion, and let the difficulty 
 (if there be one) disclose itself in the course of it, and 
 be provided for as may be in our power." 
 
 " What is it ? " 
 
 " It is this ; — that it cannot, with truth, be said, in 
 relation to many phenomena, that (so far as our experi- 
 ence informs us) they do follow each other in an abso- 
 lutely invariable order ; which phenomena, nevertheless, 
 we believe to be as much under the dominion of law as 
 the rest ; and any violation of this law, I presume, you 
 would think as much a miracle as any other. For ex- 
 ample, we do not find the same remedies or the same 
 regimen will produce the same effects upon different in- 
 dividuals at different times ; again, the varieties of the 
 weather, in every climate, are dependent upon so many 
 causes, that it transcends all human skill to calculate 
 them. Yet I dare say you can easily imagine certain 
 degrees and continuity of change in these variable phe- 
 
MIRACLES. " " ' 251 
 
 nomena which you would not hesitate to call as much 
 miracles as if the dead were raised, or the sun stayed in 
 mid-heaven." 
 
 " Yes, unquestionably," replied Fellowes ; " if I 
 found, for instance, that a dozen men could take an 
 ounce of arsenic or half a pound of opium with impu- 
 nity, I should not hesitate to regard it as a miracle, al- 
 though the precise amount sufficient to kill in any par- 
 ticular case might not be capable of being ascertained. 
 In the same manner, if I found that though the amount 
 of heat and cold in summer and winter in our climate 
 is subject to marked variations, yet that suddenly for 
 several consecutive years we had more frost in July 
 than in December ; that gooseberries and currants were 
 getting ripe on Christmas day, and men were skating 
 on the Serpentine on the 10th of August, I should cer- 
 tainly argue that a change tantamount to a miracle had 
 been wrought in nature." 
 
 " You have just expressed my own feelings on that 
 point," said Harrington ; " and it was this very consid- 
 eration which made me say, that, in order to render my 
 expression perfectly clear, and to obviate misconception 
 and misrepresentation, we must endeavor to include 
 this very frequent case of a certain limited variation 
 from the order of nature as consistent with the absence 
 of miracle, and a certain degree of that variation as in- 
 consistent with it." 
 
 " Will you just state our criterion once more, with 
 the limitation attached ; and then I shall know better 
 whether we are certainly agreed in the criterion we 
 ought to employ ? " 
 
 " I say, then," resumed Harrington, " that our uniform 
 experience, that of our friends and neighbors, and of 
 all whose experience we have the opportunity of test- 
 ings as to the order of nature, — meaning by that either 
 
252 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 an order absolutely invariable, or varying only within 
 limits which are themselves absolutely invariable, — jus- 
 tifies us in pronouncing an event contradicting such 
 experience to be an impossibility. If the principle is 
 worth any thing, let us embrace it, and inflexibly ap- 
 ply it." 
 
 " And I, for one," replied Fellowes, " am quite satis- 
 fied with the principle and the limitations you have 
 laid down ; and am so confident of its correctness, that 
 I do not hesitate to say that all the miraculous histories 
 on record are to be summarily rejected." 
 
 " For example," said Harrington, "we have seen the 
 sun rise every morning and set every evening all our 
 lives ; and every one whose experience we can test has 
 seen the same. Every man who has come into the 
 world has come into it but one way, and has as cer- 
 tainly gone out of it, and has not returned ; and every 
 one whose experience we can test affirms the same. 
 We therefore conclude on this uniform and invariable 
 experience, that the same sequences took place yester- 
 day and the day before, and will take place to-morrow 
 and the day after; and we may fearlessly apply this 
 principle both to the past and the future. I know of 
 no other reason for rejecting a miracle ; and if I am to 
 apply the principle at all to phenomena which have 
 not fallen under my own observation, I must apply it 
 without restriction." 
 
 " I am quite of your mind." 
 
 " You think, with me, that our experience, — the ex- 
 perience of those about us, — the experience of all whose 
 experience we have the means of testing, — is sufficient 
 to settle the question as to the experience of those 
 whose experience we have not the means of testing ; 
 who lived, for example, a thousand years before we 
 were born ; or in a distant part of the world, where we 
 have never been ? " 
 
MIRACLES. 253 
 
 " Certainly ; why should we hesitate so to app y it ? " 
 
 " I am sure I know not ; and you see I am not un- 
 willing so to apply it. Only I asked the question, be- 
 cause we must not forget that many say it is begging 
 the question ; for, as a * miracle ' has not been exerted 
 on us to give us a vision of the past experience of man, 
 or his present experience in any part of the world we 
 never visited, our opponents afiirm, that to say that the 
 experience we trust to has been and is the universal 
 experience of man, is a clear pelitio principiV^ 
 
 "Surely," said Fellowes, "it maybe said that the 
 general experience of mankind has been of such a char- 
 acter." 
 
 " Exactly so, as a postulate from our experience, as 
 a generalized assumption that our experience may be 
 taken as a specimen and criterion of all experience. 
 We assume that, — we do not prove it. It is just as 
 in any other case of induction ; we say, * Because this 
 is true in twenty or thirty or a hundred instances (as 
 the case may be), which we can test, — therefore it is 
 generally or universally true ' ; we do not say, because 
 this is true in these instances, and because it is also 
 generally or universally true, therefore it is so I No ; 
 our true premise is restricted to what alone we know 
 from our experience and the experience of all whose 
 experience we can test if we please. This is our real 
 ground on which we are to justify our rejection of all 
 miracles, and let us adhere to it. As to your general 
 experience, you see, the advocate of miracles easily gets 
 over that. He says, ' Why, no one pretends that mir- 
 acles are as " plenty as blackberries " ; otherwise they 
 would no longer be miracles ; these are comparatively 
 rare events, of course ; and, being rare, are necessarily 
 at variance with general experience ' ; and, for my part, 
 I should not know how to answer the objection." 
 
 22 
 
254 
 
 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 " Well, then," said Fellowes, "let us adhere to that 
 which is our real ground of objection, and let us con- 
 sistently apply it." 
 
 " With all my heart," said Harrington ; " we agree, 
 then, that our own uniform experience, — that of all 
 our neighbors and friends, — in fact, of all whose ex- 
 perience we can test, is a sufficient criterion of a law 
 of nature, and justifies us in at once rejecting as im- 
 possible any alleged fact which violates it." 
 
 « Certainly." 
 
 " For example, if it were asserted that last year the 
 sun never rose on a certain day, or, rather, for twenty-? 
 four hours the rotation of the earth ceased, we should 
 Instantly reject the story, without examination of wit- 
 nesses, or any such thing." 
 
 « No doubt of thatP 
 • " And just so in other cases. This, then, is our 
 ground. You would not (if I may advise) lay much 
 stress on the fact that there have been so many stories 
 of a supernatural kind falseP 
 
 " Why, I do not know whether it would not be wise 
 to insist upon that argument. It seems to be not with- 
 out weight," urged Fellowes. 
 
 " Perhaps so," replied Harrington ; " but it has, you 
 Bee, this inconvenience, of proving more than you want. 
 The greater part by far of all religions have been false. 
 But you affirm that there is one little system absolutely 
 true. The greater part of the theories of science and 
 philosophy, which men, from time to time, have framed, 
 have also been false ; and yet you believe that there is 
 such a thing as true philosophy and true science. Simi- 
 larly, the generality of political governments have been 
 founded on vicious principles, yet you hope for a politi- 
 cal millennium at last. In ghort^.tlifi_argument would 
 go to prove, that, as there can never have been any 
 
MIRACLES. 255 
 
 true miracles because there have been so many false 
 ones, so, for similar reasons, it is mere * vanity and 
 vexation of spirit ' to search after truth in religion, or 
 science, or politics ; and though a sceptic, like myself, 
 might not much mind it, perhaps it would trammel 
 such a positive philosopher as you. Nay, a pertinacious 
 opponent might even say, that, as you believe that in 
 all these last cases there is a substance, else there would 
 not have been the shadows, so, with reference to mira- 
 cles, the very general belief of them rather argues that 
 there have been miracles, than that there have been 
 none. My advice is, that we adhere to these reasons 
 we have assigned, for they are our real reasons." 
 
 " Be it so ; I hate miracles so much, that I care not 
 by what means the doltish delusion is dissipated." 
 
 " Only that the weapons should be fair ? " 
 
 " O, of course." 
 
 " To resume, then. I say, that, if we were told that 
 last year an event of such a miraculous nature occurred 
 as that the earth did not revolve for twenty-four hours 
 together, we should at once reject it, without any ex- 
 amination of witnesses, or troubling ourselves with any 
 thing of the kind." 
 
 " Unquestionably." 
 
 " And if it were said to have occurred twenty years 
 ago, we should take the same course." 
 
 « Certainly." 
 
 " And so if any such event were said to have oc- 
 curred eighteen hundred years ago ? " 
 
 " Agreed." 
 
 " And if such events were said at that day to have 
 occurred eighteen hundred years previously, we believe, 
 of course, the men of that time would have been equally 
 entitled to reason in the same way about them as our- 
 selves ; and, in short, that rve may fearlessly apply the 
 same principle to the same epoch." 
 
256 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 " Of course" ' --^ 
 
 " And so for two thousand years before that ; and? 
 in fact, we must believe that every thing has always 
 been going on in the same manner, — the sun always 
 rising and setting, men dying and never rising again, 
 and so forth." 
 
 " Exactly so, even from the beginning of the crea- 
 tion," said Fellowes. 
 
 " The beginning of the creation ! My good fellow, 
 I do not understand you. As we have been going 
 back, we have seen that there is no period at which the 
 same principle of judgment will not apply, and, follow- 
 ing it fearlessly, I say that we are in all fairness bound 
 to believe that there never has been a period when the 
 present order has been different from what it is ; in 
 other words, that the progression has been an eternal 
 one." 
 
 ** I cannot admit that argument," said Fellowes. 
 ' " Then be pleased to provide me with a good answer 
 tb it, which will still leave us at liberty to say, that a 
 miracle (that is, a variation from the order of nature 
 as determined by our uniform experience, and by that 
 of the whole circle of our contemporaries) is impossi- 
 ble, and that we may reject at once any pretension of 
 «e kind." 
 
 " But I do not admit that the creation of any thing 
 or of all things is of the nature of a miracle^ 
 
 Harrington smiled. " I am afraid," said he, " that 
 to common sense, to fair reasoning, to any philosopher 
 worthy of the name, there would be no difference, 
 except in mag'nitude, between such an event as the 
 sudden appearance of an animal (say man) for the j^r5^ 
 time in our world, or the^r^^ appearance of a tree (such 
 a thing never having been before), and the restoration 
 to life of a dead man Each is, to all intents and pur- 
 
MIRACLES. 257 
 
 poses, a violation of the previous established series of 
 antecedents and consequents, and comes strictly within 
 the limits of our definition of a miracle ; and a miracle, 
 you know, is impossible. The only difference will be, 
 that the miracle in the one case will be greater and 
 more astonishing than that in the other." 
 
 " But it is impossible, in the face of geologists, to 
 contend that there have not been many such revolutions 
 In the history of the world as these. Man himself is of 
 comparatively recent introduction into our system." 
 
 " I cannot help what the geologists affirm. If we 
 are to abide by our principle^ we have no warrant to 
 believe that there have been any such violations, or in- 
 fractions, or revolutions of nature's laws in the world's 
 history. If they contend for the interpolation of events 
 in the history of the universe, which, by our criterion, 
 are of the nature of miracles, and we are convinced 
 that miracles are impossible, we must reject the con- 
 clusions of geologists." 
 
 " But may we not say, that the great epochs in the 
 history of the universe are themselves but the mani- 
 festation of law ? " '^ 
 
 " In no other sense, I think, than the advocate of j 
 miracles is entitled to say that the intercalation of ' 
 miracles in the world's history is also according to law, 
 — parts, though minute parts, of a universal plan, and 
 permitted for reasons worthy of the Creator. To both, 
 or neither, is the same answer open. Your objection 
 is, I think, a mere sophistical evasion of the difficulty. 
 There is no difference whatever in the nature of the 
 events, except that the variation from the ' established 
 series of sequences' is infinitely greater in those por- 
 tentous revolutions of the universe to which the geolo- 
 gist points your attention. The application of our 
 principle (as you affirm with me) will justify us in at 
 
 22* 
 
258 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 once pronouncing any variation from the < established 
 series,' whether occurring yesterday, a year ago, a 
 thousand years ago, or a million of years ago, incredi- 
 ble ; it will, in the same manner, justify the men of any 
 age in saying the same of all previous ages ; and I, 
 therefore, while contending for your principle with you, 
 carry it consistently out, and affirm that the established 
 series of antecedents and consequents (as we now find 
 it) must be regarded as eternal^ because creation would 
 do what a miracle is supposed to do, and a miracle, 
 you know, is impossible. You are silent." 
 
 " I am not able to retract acquiescence in the prin- 
 ciple, and I am as little inclined to concede the conclu- 
 sions you would draw from it." 
 
 " As you please ; only, in the latter case, provide me 
 with an answer. If you saw now introduced on the 
 earth for the first time a being as unlike man as man 
 is unlike the other animals, — say with seven senses, 
 wings on his shoulders, a pair of eyes behind his head 
 as well as in front of it, and the tail of a peacock, by 
 way of finishing him off handsomely, — would you not 
 call such a phenomenon a miracle ? " 
 
 " I think I should," said Fellowes, laughing. 
 
 " And if the creature died, leaving no issue, would 
 you continue to call it so ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 **But if you found that he was the head of a race, 
 as man was, and a whole nation of such monsters 
 springing from him, then would you say that this won- 
 derful intrusion into the sphere of our experience was 
 no miracle, but that it was merely according to law ? " 
 
 " I should." 
 
 " Verily, my dear friend, I am afraid the world will 
 laugh at us for making such fantastical distinctions. 
 This infraction of established sequences ' ceases to be 
 
MIRACLES. 5 Tim?*" 259 
 
 miraculous, if the wonder is perpetuated and sufficiently 
 TTultiplied ! Meantime, what becomes of the prodigy 
 during the tinie in which it is uncertain whether any 
 thing will come of it or not ? You will say, I suppose, 
 (the interpolation in the * series ' of phenomena being 
 just what I have supposed,) that it is uncertain whether 
 it is to be regarded as miraculous or not, till we knoia 
 whether it is to be repeated or noty 
 
 " I think I must, if I adhere to the principle I am 
 now defending." 
 
 " Very well ; only in the mean time you are in the 
 ludicrous position of facing a phenomenon of which you 
 do not kfioio whether you will call it a miracle or not, — 
 the contingency, meantime, on which it is to be decid- 
 ed, not at all, as I contend, affecting the matter ; since 
 you allow that it is the infraction of the previously 
 established order of sequences, as known to uniform 
 experience, which constitutes a miracle ! If so, I must 
 maintain that the creation of man was, for the same 
 reasons, of the essence of a miracle. You seem to think 
 there is no objection to the admission of miracles, pro- 
 vided they are astounding and numerous enough; or 
 provided they are a long time about, instead of being 
 instantaneously wrought. I must remind you, that to 
 the principle of our argument these things are quite 
 immaterial. Whether the revolution by which the 
 established order of sequences is absolutely infringed, 
 — - the face of the universe or of our globe transformed, 
 or an entirely new race (as, for example, man) origi- 
 nated, — I say, whether such change be produced slow- 
 ly or quickly is of no consequence in the world to our 
 argument. It is whether or not a series of phenomena 
 be produced as absolutely transcending the sphere of all 
 experience, as those events we admit to be impossible, 
 called * miracles.' That the introduction of man upon 
 
260 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 the earth for the first time (for you will not allow his 
 race eternal), or the origination of a sun, is not at all 
 to be reckoned as transcending that experience, I can- 
 not understand. Nor can I understand it a bit better 
 by your saying that it is in conformity with the vague 
 something you are pleased to call a law. It is a very 
 safe phrase, however ; for as neither you nor any one 
 else can interpret it, no one can refute you. This law 
 is a most convenient thing ! It repeals, it appears to 
 me, all other laws, — even those of logic. Perhaps it 
 would be better to say that miracles are no miracles 
 when they are ' lawful ' miracles. No ! let us keep our 
 principle intact from all such dangerous admissions as 
 these. In that way only are we safe." 
 
 " Safe do you call it ? I see not how, if we carry 
 out this principle in the way and to the extent you pro- 
 pose, we can reply to the atheist or to the pantheist, ^ 
 who tells us that the universe is but an eternal evolu- 
 tion of phenomena in one infinite series, or in an eternal 
 recurrence of finite cycles." 
 
 " And what is that to you or me ? How can we help 
 our principle (if we are to hold it at all) leading to some 
 such conclusion ? We are, I presume, anxious to know 
 the truth. You see that Strauss, who is the most stren- 
 uous assertor of the impossibility of miracles, is also a 
 pantheist, I know not whether you may not become 
 one yourself." 
 
 " Never," said Fellowes, vehemently ; " never, I trust, 
 shall I yield to that ' desolating pantheism ' (as worthy 
 Mr. Newman calls it) which is now so rife." 
 
 " I think Mr. Newman's principles ought to guide 
 you thither. You seem to hold fast by his skirts at 
 present ; but I very much doubt whether you have yet 
 reached the termination of your career. You have, you 
 must admit, made advances quite as extraordinary 
 before." 
 
MIRACLES. 261 
 
 "We shall see. — But I suppose you have reached 
 the end of the objections which your wayward scepti- 
 cism suggests against a conclusion which we both ad- 
 mit ; or have you any more ? " 
 
 " Oj plenty ; and amongst the rest, I am afraid we 
 must admit — whether we admit or not your expedient 
 of law — a miracle, or something indistinguishable 
 from it, as involved in the creation and preservation of 
 the^r5^ man, — since you will have a first man." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " 
 
 " I mean, that supposing the creation of man to be 
 no miracle, because he entered by law; or that that 
 first fact (which would otherwise be miraculous) is not 
 such, simply because it is the first of a series of such 
 facts, — I should like to see whether we have not even 
 then to deal with a miracle, or a fact as absolutely 
 unique ; and which was not connected with any series 
 of similar facts." 
 
 " I think you would find it very hard to prove it." 
 
 " Nous verrons. I am sure we shall not disagree as 
 to the fact that man, however he came into the world, 
 sooner or later, by ordinary or extraordinary methods, 
 by some lawful wedlock of nature, or by some miracle 
 which is not ' lawful,' is endow^ed by nature with vari- 
 ous faculties and susceptibilities." 
 
 " Certainly," said Fellowes, laughing ; " if you de- 
 mand my assent to nothing more than that, I shall 
 easily admit your premises and deny your conclusion." 
 
 " You will also admit, I think, that the process by 
 which man comes to the use of these faculties, and 
 powers, and so fortK, is very gradual ? " 
 
 " Assuredly." 
 
 " And will you not also admit that the development 
 and command of these is something very different from 
 the * potentialities ' themselves, as my uncle here would 
 
262 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 call thtm ? — that, for example, we have the faculty of 
 vision ; but that the art of seeing involves a slow and 
 laborious process, acquired not without the concurrent 
 exercise of other senses : and that the apparatus for 
 walking is perfect even in an infant ; but that the art of 
 walking is, in fact, a wonderful acquisition : further, 
 that the command given us by these faculties, as actu- 
 ally exercised, is immensely greater than would be con- 
 ferred by each alone. In one word, you will allow that 
 man, when he comes to the use of his faculties, is, as 
 has been well said, a bundle of habits^ or, as Burke puts 
 it, is a creature who, to a great extent, has the making 
 of himself." 
 
 " I am much at my ease," said Fellowes ; " I shall 
 not dispute any of these premises either." 
 
 " And will you not also admit that, as man comes 
 into the world now^ a long time is required for this de- 
 velopment ; and that during that time he is absolutely 
 dependent on the care of those who have already in their 
 turn required similar care ? " 
 
 '• Seeing that we have had fathers and mothers, — as I 
 suppose our grandfathers and grandmothers also had, — 
 there can be as little doubt of this as of the preceding 
 points," said Fellowes, rather condescendingly. 
 
 " And that many of the functions which thus task 
 their care are necessary for our existence, and for any 
 chance of our being able to develop into menP 
 
 " I think so, of course." 
 
 " So that, if an infant were exposed on a mountain- 
 side or forest, you would have no doubt he would perish 
 (unless it pleased some kind-hearted wolf to suckle 
 him) before he could come to the use of his faculties, 
 and develop them by exercise." 
 
 " I think," said the other, " your premises perfectly 
 innocent ; I shall not contest them." 
 
MIRACLES. 263 
 
 " A little further," said Harrington, " we may go to- 
 gether ; and then, if I mistake not, you will pause be- 
 fore you go one step further. This, then, is the normal 
 condition of humanity ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Do you think the first man was like us in these 
 respects ? " 
 
 " I cannot tell." 
 
 "I dare engage you cannot, — it is a very natural 
 answer. But he either was^ I suppose, or was not. 
 That, I think, you will grant me." He assented, though 
 rather reluctantly. 
 
 " Pray please yourself," said Harrington ; " for it is 
 quite immaterial to me which alternative you take. If 
 man tuas in our condition, then, though the * lawful 
 miracle ' by which he was brought into the world might 
 have made him a baby of six feet high, he would have 
 been no more than a baby still. All that was to consti- 
 tute him a man^ — all those habits by which alone his 
 existence was capable of being preserved, — and without 
 which he must have perished immediately after his 
 creation, in which case you and I should have been 
 spared the necessity of all this discussion on the subject, 
 — would have to be learned ; and his existence during 
 that time — and a long time it must have been, having 
 no teachers and aids, as we have — must have been 
 preserved by a — miracle. If he were taught by the 
 Creator himself, then we have the miracle in that direc- 
 tion. If he were not brought into the w^orld under the 
 same conditions of development as we are, but with 
 habits ready made^ — if, indeed, that be not a contra- 
 diction, — then we have a miracle in that direction ; if 
 he had his faculties 'preternaturally quickened and ex- 
 panded, so as to acquire instantaneously, or possess by 
 instinct, what we acquire by a long and slow process, 
 
264 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 and not for many years, — then we have a miracle in 
 that direction. If you do not like these suppositions, 
 I see but one other ; and that is, that, being a baby, — 
 though, as I said, a baby six feet high, — he had an an- 
 gel nurse sent down expressly to attend him, and to 
 push or wheel him about the walls of paradise in a 
 celestial go-cart. But then I think that in this last 
 particular we shall hardly say that we have got rid of 
 a miracle, though it would doubtless be a miracle of a 
 very ludicrous kind. If you can imagine any other 
 supposition, I shall be glad to hear it." 
 
 " I acknowledge I can form no supposition on the 
 subject." 
 
 " Only remember that, if you could, the theory would 
 still suppose man's actual preservation and develop- 
 ment effected under totally different conditions from 
 those which have formed the uniform experience of all 
 his posterity ; and so far from any subterfuge of a law 
 stepping in, it is a single expedient provided for our 
 first parent alone." 
 
 " I do not think we are at all in a condition to con- 
 sider any such case, about which we cannot know any 
 thing," replied Fellowes. 
 
 " Neither do /; but pardon me, — the question 1 
 asked does not depend upon any such knowledge ; it is 
 a question which is wholly independent whether of our 
 ignorance or our knowledge. Granting, as you do, that 
 man was created^ but that it was no miracle, nor any 
 thing analogous to one (as you say), still either he was 
 created subject to our conditions of development and 
 preservation, or he was not ; if he was not, then I fear 
 we have in form the miracle we wish to evade ; if he 
 was, then I fear also that there are but the three imagi- 
 nable modes of obviating the difficulty which I have 
 so liberally provided ; and supposing there were a thou- 
 
MIRACLES. '-SfiS 
 
 sand, I fear still that they all involve a departure from 
 the * uniform course of nature.' " 
 
 " But I do not see," replied Fellowes, " that it is 
 absolutely necessary, supposing that the first man was 
 thrown upon the green of paradise " 
 
 " Or in a forest, or on a moor," said Harrington, " for 
 you know nothing of paradise." 
 
 " "Well, then, in a forest, or on a moor ; — I say if man 
 were cast out there, the same helpless being which all 
 his posterity are, — unfortified, as the lower animals are, 
 by feathers or hair, or by instincts equal to theirs, — 
 who can affirm that it was beyond the possibilities of 
 his nature, that he might survive this cruel experiment? 
 crawl, perhaps, for an indefinite period on all fours? 
 live on berries, and at last — by very slow degrees 
 doubtless, but still at last — emerge into " 
 
 " The dignity of a savage," cried Harrington, " as 
 the Jirst step towards something better, — his Creator 
 having beneficently created him something infinitely 
 worse! Surely, you must be returning to a savage 
 yourself, even to hint at such a pedigree. But I have 
 done : till those cases of which certain philosophers 
 have said so much have been authenticated ; till you 
 can produce an instance of a new-born babe, exposed 
 on a mountain-side, in all the helplessness of his natal 
 hour, and self- preserved, — nay, two of them, — for you 
 must at least have a pair of these ' babes in the wood ' ; 
 and till, moreover, it can be shown that they would 
 have survived this experiment so as to preserve the 
 characteristics of humanity a little better than the ' wild 
 boy of Germany,' and were fit to be the heads of the 
 human family, — I shall at times be strangely tempted 
 to embrace an?/ theory as infinitely more probable. I 
 cannot think it was in this way that our first parents 
 made their entree into the world. I hope not, for the 
 
 23 
 
266 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 credit of the Creator, as well as for the happiness of his 
 offspring. Of the moral bearings of such a brutal theory, 
 I say nothing ; but if it can be true, all I can say is, that 
 I am glad that you and I, my dear Fellowes, are not 
 the immediate children^ but so fortunate as to be only 
 the great-great-great-great-grandchildren of God ! You 
 have well called it a ' cruel experiment ' ; according to 
 this, the first Father of all thrust forth his children into 
 the world to be for an indefinite time worse than the 
 beasts, who were carefully provided against miserable 
 man's inconveniences ! Certainly, I think you may 
 alter the account of man's creation given in Genesis, to 
 great advantage. Instead of God's saying, ' Let us 
 create man in our image, he must be supposed to have 
 said, ' Let us create man in the image of a beast : and 
 in the image of a beast created he him, male and fe- 
 male created he them ' ; and very imperfect beasts they 
 must have been, after all. This is that old savage the- 
 ory which I had supposed was pretty well abandoned. 
 If the necessity of denying miracles imposes any ne- 
 cessity of believing that^ I fear that I shall sooner be got 
 to believe a thousand." 
 
 " Well," said Fellowes, who seemed ashamed of this 
 theory, but knew not how to abandon it ; "I cannot 
 believe there have been any miracles^ and, what is more, 
 I will not." 
 
 " That is perhaps the best reason you have given 
 yet," said Harrington. " The Will is indeed your only 
 irresistible logician. You are one degree, at all events, 
 better off than I, for I can hardly say either that I be- 
 lieve, or that I do not believe, in miracles." 
 
 " And yet," continued Harrington, after a pause, 
 "two or three other strange consequences seem to 
 follow from that seemingly undeniable principle on 
 which we base the conclusion that there neither has 
 
MIRACLES. 267 
 
 been nor can be any such thing as a miracle ; in other 
 words, a departure from the established series of se- 
 quences which, as tested by our own experience and by 
 that of other men, we are convinced is stable. Will you 
 see with me whether there is any fair mode of escaping 
 from them ? I should be very glad if I could do so." 
 
 " What are they ? " 
 
 " Why, first, I am afraid it must be said, that we 
 must entirely justify a man in the condition of the 
 Eastern prince mentioned by Hume, who could not be 
 induced to believe that there was such a thing as ice. 
 I am afraid that he was quite in the right ; and yet we 
 know that in fact he was wrong." 
 
 " You are not, then, satisfied with Hume's own 
 solution ? " 
 
 " So far from it, that I cannot see, upon the principles 
 on which we refuse to believe miracles, that it is even 
 intelligible. We agree, do we not, that, from the expe- 
 ifience we have (and, so far as we can ascertain, from 
 every body else's) of the uniform course of events, of 
 the established order of sequences, we are to reject any 
 assertion of a violation of those sequences ; as, for ex- 
 ample, of a man's coming into the world in any preter- 
 natural manner, or, when he has once gone out of it, 
 coming into it again ; and that we are entitled to do this 
 without any examination of the witnesses to any such 
 fact, merely on the strength of the principles aforesaid ? " 
 
 " I admit that we have agreed to this." 
 
 " Now was not the assertion that in a certain quarter 
 of the world water became solid as stone, could be cut 
 into pieces, and be put into one's pockets, contrary, in a 
 similar manner, to all the phenomena which the said 
 prince had witnessed, and also to the uniform experience 
 of all about him from his earliest years ? " 
 
 " P certainly was." 
 
268 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 " He was rights then, in rejecting the fact; that is, he 
 was right in rejecting the possibility of such an occur 
 rence," said Harrington. 
 
 " But did we not ourselves say, with Hume, that, as 
 we see that there is not an absolute uniformity in the 
 phenomena of nature, but that they are varied within 
 certain limits in different climates and countries, so it 
 does not become us to say that a phenomenon, though 
 somewhat variable, is a violation of the usual order of 
 sequences ? " 
 
 " "We did ; but we also agreed, I think, that those 
 variations were to be within invariable limits, as tested 
 by the whole of our experience ; we did not include 
 within those variations what is diametrically contrary 
 (as in the present case) to all our own experience and 
 that of every body about us. If it is to extend to such 
 variations, what do we say but this, — that the order of 
 nature is uniform and invariable, except where — it is 
 the reverse ? and, as it seems it sometimes is so, see 
 what comes of the admission. A man asserts the re- 
 ality of a miracle which you reject at once as simply 
 impossible, as contrary to your experience and that 
 of every one whose experience you can test. It will 
 be easy for him to say, and upon Hume's evasion he 
 will say, that it was performed, for aught you know, 
 under conditions so totally different from those which 
 ordinarily obtain in relation to the same order of events, 
 that you are no adequate judge as to whether it was 
 possible or not. He acknowledges that a miracle is a 
 very rare Dccurrence ; that it is performed for special 
 ends ; is strictly limited to time and place, like those 
 phenomena the Indian prince was asked to believe ; and 
 that your experience cannot embrace it, nor is war- 
 ranted in pronouncing upon it. I really fear that, if 
 our incredulous prince is to be condemned, our principle 
 
MIRACLES. 269 
 
 will be ruined. I am anxious for his safe deliverance, 
 I assure you." 
 
 " Still 1 cannot see that we can deny that phenom- 
 ena viay be manifested, in virtue of the laws of nature, 
 totally different from those which we have ever seen 
 or heard of." 
 
 " What ! so different that the phenomena in question 
 shall be a total departure from that order of nature of 
 which alone we and all about us are cognizant ; in fact, 
 all but the one man, who tells us the strange thing, we 
 being at the same time totally incapable of testing his 
 experience ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Fellowes ; " I must grant it." 
 
 " I see," said Harrington, " you are bent on the de- 
 struction of our criterion. Do you not perceive that, if 
 our experience and that of the immense majority, or of 
 all about us, be not a sufficient criterion of the laws of 
 nature, our argument falls to the ground ? ' Your prin- 
 ciple,' our adversaries will say, ' is a fallacious one ; 
 Nature has her laws, no doubt, which apply to miracles 
 as to every other phenomenon ; but in assuming your 
 experience to be a sufficient criterion of these laws, you 
 have been, not interpreting her laws, but imposing upon 
 her your own.' If unknown powers of nature may thus 
 reverse our experience and the experience of all those 
 whose experience, under the given conditions, we have 
 opportunities of testing, we ought to abstain from say- 
 ing that some unknown powers may not also have 
 WTought miracles. Let us thv.n affirm consistently the 
 sufficiency of our criterion ; and the prince aforesaid 
 must do the same ; and it warranted him, I say, in be- 
 lieving that there neither was nor could be such a thing 
 as ice." 
 
 " But this seems ridiculous," said Fellowes ; " for 
 according to this, different and opposite experiences 
 
 28* 
 
270 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 may, in different places give different or opposite meas- 
 ures of the laws of nature ; which nevertheless are sup- 
 posed to be invariably the same, or invariably within 
 the limits certified by that experience." 
 
 " I cannot help it ; upon that same experience we 
 must believe it true that there are no miracles, and our 
 unbelieving prince, that there could be no such thing as 
 ice ; for to him it was a miracle. If we do not reason 
 thus, may we not be compelled to admit that our uni- 
 form experience, with its limited variations, is no rule 
 at all, and that there are cases for which it makes no 
 provision ? and may not the advocate for miracles say 
 that miracles are amongst them ? No, let us adhere to 
 our principle^ and adhering to it, I wish to know whether 
 the prince in question was not quite right in saying that 
 there neither was nor could be such a thing as ice ; for 
 the assertion that there was, was contrary to all his ex- 
 perience and to that of every soul about him." 
 
 " I must say, that, if we look only to the principle of 
 this uniform experience, he was rights 
 
 " But he rejected the iruth.''^ 
 
 * He certainly did." 
 • ' " And he was right in rejecting the truth ? " 
 
 " Certainly, upon your principle." 
 -— ** Upon my principle ! Do not say upon my princi- 
 ple, unless you mean to deny that you too embrace it; 
 if you give up that principle, you lay yourself open at 
 once to the retort that your position is insecure ; that 
 you have taken your experience as a sufficient criterion 
 of the possibilities of events, when it is in fact merely 
 a measure of such as have fallen under your own ob- 
 servation." 
 
 " Perhaps," said Fellowes, " I should say that the 
 prince in question was justified at first in rejecting the 
 fact, bu^; that when he found other men, whose veracity 
 
''*>'r MIRACLES.-^ :a:r 271 
 
 he could not suspect, coming from the same regions of 
 the worl 1, and affirming the same phenomenon, it was 
 his business to correct his experience, and to admit that 
 the fact was so." 
 
 " I am surprised to hear you say so ; you are again 
 ruining our principle. Do you admit that the assertion 
 that there was a place on earth at which water in large 
 quantities became solid, was apparently as great a vio- 
 lation of all the experience of this man, as what is ordi- 
 narily called a miracle is of ours ? " 
 
 " I cannot deny that it was so." 
 
 " But yet you think, that, though justified in dis- 
 believing it at first,, he would not be so when others, 
 whose veracity and motives he had no reason to sus- 
 pect, told him the same tale ? " 
 
 « Yes." 
 
 " Why, then, is not this plainly to make a belief of 
 such events depend upon testimony^ and do we not give 
 up altogether our sufficient principle of rejection of all 
 such testimony ? You are yielding, without doubt, the 
 principle of our opponents, who affirm that there is no 
 event so improbable that a certain combination of testi- 
 mony would not be sufficient to warrant your reception 
 of it; because, as they say, that testimony might be 
 given under such circumstances, — so variously certi- 
 fied, and so above suspicion, — that it would be more 
 improbable that the statement to which it applied 
 (however strange) should be false, than that the testi- 
 mony should ^not be true; in other words, that the 
 falsehood of the testimony would be the greater miracle ^ 
 of the two. And they say this, because (as they assert) 
 the uniform experience on which we found our objec- 
 tion to any miraculous narrative is no less applicable 
 to the world of mind than to the world of matter ; that 
 there is not inaeed an absolute uniformity of experience / 
 
272 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 in the former, as neither is there in the latter; but that 
 neither in one nor in the other is there any absolute 
 bouleversement of the principles and constitution of na- 
 ture ; which, they say, would be implied, if under all 
 conceivable circumstances testimony might prove false. 
 And yet now you seem to admit the very thing for 
 which they contend ; and in contending for it, you give 
 up your case. Doing so, you certainly get rid of one 
 of the paradoxical conclusions which my wretched scep- 
 ticism sometimes suggests to me, as throwing a doubt 
 on the integrity of our principle. I say your admission 
 gets rid of it ; but then it is with the ruin of the prin- 
 ciple itself." 
 
 " What was that paradox ? " 
 
 " It is this ; that, if we adhere to our principle, we 
 must deny that ani/ amount of testimony is sufficient 
 to warrant the belief of a miracle." 
 
 " That is what we do maintain." 
 
 " I thought so ; but you seem to me to have hastily 
 given it up. Let us then again maintain that our 
 prince, in denying what was a miracle to him, was not 
 only consistent in saying that it could not be, when 
 Jlrst asserted to him, but also wfaen last asserted ; and 
 died an orthodox infidel in the possibility of ice, or an 
 orthodox believer in the eternal fluidity of water, which- 
 ever you prefer to consider it." 
 
 " Well, and what then?" 
 
 " Why, then, let us act upon our principle with equal 
 consistency in other cases ; for you say that there is no 
 amount or complexity of evidence which would induce 
 you to believe in a miracle." 
 
 « I do." 
 
 " Let us suppose it was asserted that a man known 
 to have been dead and buried had risen again, and, 
 after having been seen by many, had at last^ in the 
 
•^?^* "miracles. 273 
 
 pre3ence*6f a multitude, on a clear day, ascended to 
 heaven through the calm sky, without artificial wings 
 or balloon, or any such thing; that he was seen to pass 
 out of sight of the gazing crowd, who watched and 
 watched in vain for his return ; and that he had never 
 more been seen. Let us suppose that the witnesses 
 who saw this constantly affirmed it ; that amongst 
 them were many known to you, whose veracity you 
 had no reason to suspect, and who had no imaginable 
 motive to deceive you ; let us suppose further, that they 
 persisted in affirming this, in spite of all contumely 
 and contempt, insult and wrong, amidst threats of 
 persecution, and persecution itself; lastly, let there be 
 amongst them many, who before this event had been 
 as strenuous assertors of the impossibility of a miracle 
 as yourself. I want to know whether you would be- 
 lieve this story, thus authenticated, or not ? " 
 
 " But it is, I think, unfair to put any such case ; for 
 there never was such an event so authenticated." 
 
 " It is quite sufficient to test our principle^ that you 
 can imagine such testimony. If that principle is sound, 
 it is plain that it will apply to all imaginable degrees of 
 testimony, as well as to all actual No testimony^ you 
 say, can establish a miracle. This is true or not. If 
 you admit that there are any degrees in this matter, you 
 come at last to the old argument, which you abjure ; 
 namely, that whether a miraculous event has taken 
 place or not depends on the degree of evidence with 
 which it is substantiated, and that must be the result 
 of a certain investigation of it in the particular alleged 
 case. You remember the story of the ring of Gyges, 
 which made the wearer invisible. Plato tells us how a 
 man ought to act, and how a good man would act, if he 
 had such a ring. Cicero tells us how absurd it would 
 be to reply to his reasoning (as one did), by saying that 
 
274 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 there never -was such a ring. It was not necessary to 
 the force of the illustration, that there should be such a 
 ring. So neither is it necessary to my argument that 
 there should be such testimony as I have supposed, to 
 enable us to see whether we are prepared to admit the 
 truth of your principle that no evidence can establish a 
 miracle. Once more, then, I ask you whether, on the 
 supposition of such testimony, you would reject the 
 supposed fact or not ? " 
 
 " Well, then, I should say, that, since no testimony 
 can establish a miracle, I should reject it." 
 
 " Bravo, Fellowes ! I do of all things like to see 
 an unflinching regard to a principle, when once laid 
 down.^' 
 
 '•' But would not you also reject it, upon the same 
 principle ? " 
 
 "Of course I should, if the principle be true ; but ah ! 
 my friend, pardon me for acknowledging my infirmi- 
 ties ; my miserable scepticism tosses me to and fro. I 
 have not your strength of will ; and I fear that the re- 
 jection in such a case would cost me many qualms and 
 doubts. Such is the infirmity of our nature, and so 
 much may be said on all sides! And I fear that I 
 should be more likely to have these uneasy thoughts, 
 inasmuch as I fancy I see a difficult dilemma (I but 
 now referred to it), which would be proposed to us by 
 some keen-sighted opponent, — I say not with jus- 
 tice, — who would endeavor to show that we had 
 abandoned our principle in the very attempt to main- 
 tain it ; that the bow from which we were about to 
 launch so fatal an arrow at the enemy had broken in 
 our hands, and left us defenceless." 
 
 " What dilemma do you refer to ? " said Fellowes. 
 
 " I think such an adversary might perhaps say : 
 * That same uniform experience on which you justify 
 
» ' " MlRAdL^S. ' "■' 275 
 
 the rejection of all miracles, — does it extend only to 
 one part of nature, to the physical and material only, or 
 to the mental and spiritual also ? ' In other words, if 
 there were such things as miracles at all, might there be 
 miracles in connection with mind as well as in connec- 
 tion with matter ? What would you say ? " 
 
 " What can I say, but what Hume himself says, so 
 truly and so beautifully, in his essay on ' Necessary 
 Connection,' and ' On Liberty and Necessity ' ; namely, 
 * that there is a uniformity in both the moral and phys- 
 ical world, and that nature does not transgress certain 
 limits in either the one or the other ' ? You must re- 
 member that he says so ? " 
 
 " I do," said Harrington. " Now, I am afraid our 
 astute adversary would say that such a complication of 
 false testimony as we have supposed would itself be a 
 flagrant violation of the established series of sequences, 
 on which, as applied to the physical world, we justify 
 the rejection of all miracles ; that we have got rid of a 
 miracle by admitting a miracle ; and that our uniform 
 experience has broken down with us." 
 
 " But again I say, there never was such a case of 
 testimony," urged Fellowes. 
 
 " I wish this could help us ; but it plainly will not ; 
 because we have concluded that, if there were such tes- 
 timony, we must believe it false, and therefore should 
 admit that the miracle of its falsehood was, in that case, 
 necessary to be believed ; not to say that there has been, 
 in the opinion of millions, testimony often given to 
 miracles, which, if false, does imply that the laws of hu- 
 man nature must have been turned topsy-turvy, — and 
 I, for my part, know not how to disprove it. If, in such 
 cases, the testimony, the falsity of which would be a 
 miracle, is not to be rejected, then we must admit that 
 the miracle which it supports is true. I must leave it 
 
276 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. ^ 
 
 there," said Harrington, with an air of comic resigna- 
 tion ; " I cannot answer for any thing, except that you 
 may reject both miracles alternately^ if that will be any 
 comfort to you, without being able to disbelieve both 
 simultaneously. If you believe the testimony false, you 
 must believe the alleged miracle false ; but you will 
 have then the moral miracle to believe. If you believe 
 the testimony true, you will then believe the physical 
 miracle true. Perhaps the best way will be to disbe- 
 lieve both alternately in rapid succession ; and you wiU 
 then hardly perceive the difficulty at all ! " 
 
 There was here a brief pause. Harrington suddenly 
 resumed. " These are very perplexing considerations. 
 One thing, I confess, has often puzzled me much ; and 
 that is, — what should we do, in what state of mind 
 should we be, if we did see a miracle ? " 
 
 " Of what use is the discussion of such a particular 
 case, when you know it is impossible that we should 
 ever see it realized ? " replied FeUowes. 
 
 "Of course it is; just as it is impossible that we 
 should ever see levers perfectly inflexible, or cords per- 
 fectly flexible. Nevertheless, it is perfectly possible to 
 entertain such a hypothetical case, and to reason with 
 great conclusiveness on the consequences of such a sup- 
 position ; and in the same way we can imagine that we 
 have seen a miracle ; and what then ? " 
 
 " "Why, if we were to see one, of course seeing is 
 believing. We must give up our principle," said Fel- 
 lowes, laughing. 
 
 " Do you think so ? I think we should be very 
 foolish then. How can we be sure that we have seen 
 it? Can it appeal to any thing stronger than our 
 senses^ and have not our senses often beguiled us ? " 
 Must we not rather abide by that general induction 
 from the evidence to which our ordinary experience 
 
MIRACLES. 
 
 ^f» 
 
 points us ? In other words, ought we not to adhere to 
 the great principle we have aheady laid down, that a 
 miracle is impossible ? " 
 
 " But, according to this, if we err in that principle, 
 and God were to work a miracle for the very purpose 
 of convincing us, it would be impossible for him to 
 attain his purpose." 
 
 " I think it would, my friend, I confess ; just for the 
 reason that, since we believe a miracle to be impossible, 
 we must believe it impossible for even God to work 
 one ; and therefore, if we are mistaken, and it is possi- 
 ble for him to work one, it is still impossible that he 
 should convince us of it." 
 
 " I really know not how to go that length." 
 
 " Why not ? You acknowledge that your senses 
 have deceived you ; you know that they have deceived 
 others ; and it is on that very ground that you dispose 
 of very many cases of supposed miracles which you are 
 not willing, or are not able, to resolve otherwise. If I 
 believe, then, that a miracle is impossible, I must admit 
 that, if I err in that, it is still impossible for God him- 
 self to convince me of it." 
 
 Fellowes looked grave, but said nothing. 
 
 " And do you know," said Harrington, " I have some- 
 times thought that Hume, so far from representing his 
 argument from ' Transubstantiation ' fairly, (there is an 
 obvious fallacy on the very face of it, to which I do not 
 now allude,) is himself precisely in the condition in 
 which he represents the believer in miracles ? " 
 
 Fellowes smiled incredulously. " First, however," said 
 he, " what is the more notorious fallacy to which you 
 allude ? " 
 
 " It is so barefaced an assumption, that I am sur- 
 prised that his acuteness did not see it ; or that, if he 
 saw it, he could have descended to make a point by 
 
 24 
 
278 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 appearing not to see it. It has been often pointed outj 
 and you will recollect it the moment I name it. You 
 know he commences with the well-known argument of 
 Tillotson against Transubstantiation, and flatters him- 
 self that he sees a similar argument in relation to mir- 
 acles. Now it certainly requires but a moderate de- 
 gree of sagacity to see that the very point in which 
 Tillotson's argument tells, is that very one in which 
 Hume's is totally unlike it. Tillotson says, that when 
 it is pretended that the bread and wine which are sub- 
 mitted to his own senses have been ' transubstantiated 
 into flesh and blood,' the alleged phenomena contradict 
 his senses ; and that as the information of his senses as 
 much comes from God as the doctrines of Scripture 
 (and even the miracles of Scripture appeal to nothing 
 stronger), he must believe his senses in this case in 
 preference to the assertions of the priest. Hume then 
 goes on quietly to take it for granted that the miracles 
 to which consent is asked in like manner contradict the 
 testimony of the senses of him to whom the appeal is 
 made ; whereas, in fact, the assertor of the miracles does 
 not pretend that he who denies them has ever seen 
 them, or had the opportunity of seeing them. To make 
 the argument analogous, it ought to be shown that the 
 objector, having been a spectator of the pretended mir- 
 acles, when and where they were affirmed to have been 
 wrought, had then and there the testimony of his 
 senses that no such events had taken place. It is mere 
 juggling with words to say that never to have seen 
 a like event is the same argument of an event's never 
 having occurred, as never to have seen that event when 
 it was alleged to have taken place under our very 
 eyes ! " 
 
 « I give up the reasoning on this point," said Fel- 
 lowes, " but how, I should like to know, do you retort 
 the argument upon him ? " 
 
MIRACLES. '1 279 
 
 " Thus ; you see that lue maintain that a miracle is 
 incredible /?er se^ because impossible ; not to be believed, 
 therefore, on ariT/ evidence." 
 
 "Certainly." 
 
 " If, then, we saw what seemed a miracle, we should 
 distrust our senses ; we should say that it was most 
 likely that they deceived us. Hear what Voltaire says 
 in one of his letters to D'Alembert: * Je persiste a pen- 
 ser que cent mille hommes qui ont vu ressusciter un 
 mort, pourraient bien etre cent mille hommes qui au- 
 raient la berlue.' And what he says of their bad eyes, 
 there is no doubt he would say of his own, if he had 
 been one of the hundred thousand." 
 
 " I think so, certainly." 
 
 " And Strauss, and Hume, and Voltaire, and you 
 and I, and all who hold a miracle impossible, would 
 distrust our senses, and fall back upon that testimony 
 from the general experience of others, which alone could 
 correct our own halting and ambiguous experience." 
 
 « Certainly." 
 
 " It appears, then, my good fellow, that the position 
 of those who deny and those who assert miracles is 
 exactly the reverse of Hume's statement. The man 
 who believes * Transubstantiation ' distrusts his senses, 
 and rather believes testimony : and even so would he 
 who has fully made up his mind, on our sublime prin- 
 ciple, as to the impossibility of miracles, when any 
 thing which has that appearance crosses his path ; he 
 is prepared to deny his senses and to trust to testimony, 
 — to that general experience of others which comes to 
 him, and can come to him, only in that shape. It is 
 we, therefore, and not our adversaries, who are liable to 
 be reached by this unlucky illustration." 
 
 Fellowes himself seemed much amused by finding 
 the tables thus turned. For my part, I had difficulty 
 
280 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 in repressing a chuckle over this display of sceptical 
 candor and subtilty. 
 
 " There is perhaps another paradox which may be as 
 well mentioned " resumed Harrington. " It is a little 
 trying to my scepticism, but perhaps will not be to 
 your faith. I mean this. We are constrained to be- 
 lieve from our ^uniform-experience^ criterion that no 
 miracle has ever occurred, or ever will ; in short, it is, 
 as we say, impossible. Now the principle which un- 
 doubtedly leads us to the conclusion we may regard as 
 a principle of our nature, if ever there was one ; that is, 
 we are so constituted as to infer the perpetual uniform- 
 ity of certain sequences of phenomena from our obser- 
 vation of that uniformity." 
 
 " Assuredly." 
 
 " And as all mankind obviously act upon that same 
 principle in most cases, and we believe that it is part 
 of the very uniformity in question that human nature 
 is radically the same in all ages and in all countries, I 
 think we ought to conclude that it is not you and I 
 only, but at all events the vast majority of mankind, 
 who have maintained the impossibility of miracles." 
 
 " We ought to be able to conclude so," said Fellowes, 
 " but it is very far from being the case. So far from it, 
 that nothing can be plainer than that miraculous le- 
 gends have been most greedily taken up by the vast 
 majority of mankind, and have made a very common 
 part of almost every form of religion." 
 
 " Men do not then, it appears, in this instance, at all 
 regard the uniform tenor of their experience ; so that 
 it is a part of our uniform experience, that mankind 
 disregard and disbelieve the lessons of their uniform 
 experience. This is almost a miracle of itself; at all 
 events, a curious paradox ; but one which we must not 
 stay to examine : though I confess it leads to one other 
 
MIRACLES. 281 
 
 humiliating conclusion, — a little corollary, which I 
 think it is not unimportant to mark ; and that is, that 
 we can never expect these enlightened views of ours to 
 spread amongst the mass of mankind." 
 
 " Nay, I cannot agree with you. I hope far other- 
 wise, and far better for the human race." 
 
 "Bat will the result not contradict your uniform 
 experience, if your hopes be realized? Is not your 
 experience sufficiently long and sufficiently varied to 
 show that the belief of miracles and all sorts of prodi- 
 gies is the normal condition of mankind, and that it is 
 only a comparatively few who can discern that uniform 
 experience justifies man in believing that no miracle is 
 possible ? While it teaches us that a miracle is impos- 
 sible, does it not also teach us that, though none is pos- 
 sible, it is nevertheless impossible that they should not 
 be generally believed ? Is not this taught us as plainly 
 by our uniform experience as any thing else ? See how 
 fairly Hume admits this at the commencement of his 
 Essay on Miracles. He says, * I flatter myself that I 
 have discovered an argument which, if just, will, with 
 the wise and learned^ be an everlasting check to all 
 kinds of superstitious delusion, and consequently will 
 be useful as long as the world endures. For so long, 
 I presume, will the accounts of miracles and prodigies be 
 found in all history, sacred and profane."^ Thus are we 
 led to the conclusion, that, though miracles never can 
 be real, they will nevertheless be always believed ; and 
 that, though the truth is with us, it never can be estab- 
 lished in the minds of men in general. And, my dear 
 friend, let us be thankful that it never can ; for if it 
 could, that fact would have proved the possibility of 
 miracles by contradicting one of those very deductions 
 from uniform experience on the validity of which their 
 impossihr'lity is demonstrated. 
 
282 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 " These are some of the perplexities," continued 
 Harrington, "which, as These tetus says, sometimes 
 make ' my head dizzy,' when I revolve the subject. 
 Meantime, surely a nobler spectacle can hardly present 
 itself than our fairly abiding by our principle^ amidst 
 so many plausible difficulties as assail it. I know no 
 one principle in theology or philosophy which has been 
 so battered as that of Hume. Not only Campbell, 
 Paley, and so many more, confidently affirm errors in 
 it, — such as his assuming individual or general expe- 
 rience to be universal ; his quietly attributing to indi- 
 vidual experience a belief of facts which are believed 
 by the vast mass of mankind on testimony^ and nothing 
 else; his representing the experience of a man who 
 says he has seen a certain event as ' contrary ' to the 
 experience of him who says he has not seen a similar 
 one ; his implying that no amount of testimony can 
 establish a miracle, which might compel us to believe 
 moral miracles to get rid of physical miracles ; I say 
 not only so, but the most recent investigators of the 
 theory of evidence cruelly abandon him. The argu- 
 ment of Hume and Paley, says De Morgan, in his trea- 
 tise on Probabilities,* is a ' fallacy answered by falla- 
 cies,' — meaning by this last that Paley had conceded 
 to his opponent more than he ought to have done. 
 With similar vexatious opposition, Mr. J. S. Mill says, 
 that, to make any alleged fact contradictory to a law of 
 causation, ^ the allegation must be that this happened 
 in the absence of any adequate counteracting cause. 
 Now, in the case of an alleged miracle, the assertion is 
 the exact opposite of this.' He says, ' that all which 
 Hume has made out is, that no evidence can prove a 
 miracle to any one who did not previously believe the 
 
 * Encyclopcedia Metropolitana : Theory of Probabilities, S 182. 
 
3N A BOOK-REVELATION. 283 
 
 existence of a h-Ang or beings with supernatural power ; 
 or who believed himself to have /w//;?roo/ that the char- 
 acter ' * of such being or beings is inconsistent with 
 such an interference ; that is, the argument could have 
 no force unless either a man believed there were no God 
 at all, or the objector happened to be something like a 
 God himself I And now, lastly, I have shown that the 
 predicament of Hume, and Voltaire, and Strauss, and 
 you and myself (if consistent), is just the reverse of that 
 in which the argument from Transubstantiation repre- 
 sents it. But never mind ; so much more glory is due 
 to us for abiding by our principle. I begin almost to 
 think that I am arriving at that transcendental * faith ' 
 which you admire so much, and which is totally inde- 
 pendent of logic and argument, and all 'intellectual 
 processes whatever.' " 
 
 Jul/j 23. I this day read to Mr. Fellowes the paper 
 I had promised a week or two before, and which 1 had 
 entitled. 
 
 An External Revelation, even of Elementary 
 " Spiritual and Moral Truth," very Possible, 
 AND very Useful ; and in Analogy with the 
 Conditions of Human Development, whether in 
 the Individual or the Species. 
 
 It is necessary to observe in the outset, that, even if 
 I were to grant your proposition, " that a revelation of 
 moral and spiritual truth is impossible," — understand- 
 ing by such " truth " what you seem to mean, the truth 
 which * Natural Religion," as it is called, has recog- 
 nized in some shape or other (for it has varied not a 
 
 * System of Logic, Vol. 11. pp. 186, 187. 
 
284 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 little), — it would leave the chief reasons for imparting 
 an external revelation just where they were. I, at least, 
 should never contend that the sole or even chief object 
 of an external revelation is to impart elementary moral 
 or spiritual truth, however possible I may deem it. On 
 . the contrary, I am fully persuaded that the great pur- 
 ' pose for which such a revelation has been given is to 
 I communicate facts and truths many of which were 
 quite transcendental to the human faculties; which 
 I man would never have discovered, and most of which 
 he would never have surmised. All this your favor- 
 ite Mr. Newman perceived in his earlier days clearly 
 enough, and has recorded his sentiments held at that 
 period in his " Phases." * If I were to grant you, 
 therefore, your proposition, it would leave the question 
 of an external revelation untouched ; your hasty in- 
 ference from it, that every book-revelation is to be re- 
 jected, is perfectly gratuitous. 
 
 But I am thoroughly persuaded that the notion of 
 the impossibility of an external revelation of moral and 
 spiritual truth, even of the elementary form already 
 referred to, is a fallacy. 
 
 Whether the religious faculty in men be a simple 
 faculty, or (as Sir James Mackintosh seemed to think 
 might possibly be the case with conscience) a complex 
 one, constituted by means of several different powers 
 and principles of our nature, is a question not essential 
 to the argument ; for I frankly admit at once, with Mr. 
 Newman and Mr. Parker, that there is such a suscep- 
 tibility (simple or complex), and not a mere abortive 
 tendency, as Harrington seems to suppose possible. 
 Otherwise I cannot, 1 confess, account for the fact (so 
 largely insisted upon by Mr. Parker) of the very gen- 
 
 • ?. 42. 
 
ON A BOOK-REVELATION. ♦ 285 
 
 eral, the all but universal, adoption by man of some 
 religion, and the powe?', the prodigious power, which, 
 even when false, hideously false, it exerts over him. 
 But then I must as frankly confess, that I can as little 
 account for all the (not only tenible but) uniform ab- 
 errations of this susceptibility, on which Harrington 
 has insisted, and which, I do think, prove (if ever truth 
 was proved by induction) one of two things ; either 
 that, as he says, this susceptibility in man was origi- 
 nally defective and rudimentary, or that man is no 
 longer in his normal state ; in other words, that he is, 
 as the Scriptures declare, depraved. I acknowledge I 
 accept this last solution ; and firmly believe, with Pas- 
 cal, that vnihout it moral and religious philosophy must 
 toil over the problem of humanity in vain. 
 
 If this be so, we have, of course, no difficulty ia 
 believing that there may be, in spite of the existence 
 of the religious faculty in man, ample scope for an ex- 
 ternal revelation, to correct its aberrations and remedy 
 its maladies. 
 
 But you will say that this fact is not to be taken for 
 granted. I admit it; and therefore lay no further 
 stress upon it. I go one step further ; and shall en- 
 deavor, at least, to prove, that, supposing man is just ^ 
 as he was created, yet also supposing, what neither Mr. 
 Parker nor Mr. Newman will deny, (and if they did, 
 the whole history of the world would confute them,) 
 that man's religious faculty is not uniform or determi- 
 nate in its action, but is dependent on external develop- 
 ment and culture for assuming the form it does, ample 
 scope is still left for an external revelation. I contend 
 that the entire condition of this susceptibility (as shown 
 by experience) proves that, if in truth an external reve-"\ 
 lation be impossible, it is not because it has superseded 
 the necessity for one ; and that the declaration of the 
 
286 THE ECIIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 elder deists and modern " spiritualists " on this subject, 
 in the face of what all history proves man to be, is the 
 most preposterous in the world. 
 
 Further; I contend that all the analogies derived 
 
 from the fundamental laws of the development of man's 
 
 nature, — from a consideration of the relations in which 
 
 that nature stands to the external world, — from the 
 
 1 absolute dependence of the individual on external cul- 
 
 \ ture, and that of the whole species on its historic devel- 
 
 ; opment, — are all in favor of the notion both of the 
 
 \ possibility and utility of an external revelation, and 
 
 even in favor of that particular for7n of it which Mr. 
 
 Newman and you so contemptuously call a ^^ book^* 
 
 revelation. 
 
 I. I argue from all the analogies of the fundamental 
 laws of the development of the human mind. Nor do 
 - I fear to apply the reasoning even to the cases in which 
 it has been so confidently asserted that there can be no 
 revelation, on the fallacious ground that a revelation 
 " of spiritual and moral truth " presupposes in man 
 certain principles to which it appeals. To possess cer- 
 tain faculties for the appreciation of spiritual and moral 
 truth is one thing ; to acquire the conscious possession 
 of that truth is another ; the former fact would not 
 make an external revelation superfluous, or an empty 
 name. Every thing in the process of the mind's de- 
 velopment goes to show, that, whatever its capacities, 
 tendencies, faculties, " potentialities," (call them what 
 you will,) a certain external influence is necessary to 
 / awaken its dormant life ; to turn a " potentiality " into 
 ( an " energy " ; to transform a dim inkling' of a truth 
 \ into an intelligent, vital, conscious recognition of it. 
 Nor is this law confined to mind alone; all nature 
 attests its presence. All effects are the result of prop- 
 erties or susceptibilities in one thing, solicited by ex- 
 
ON A BOOK-RE DELATION. 287 
 
 ternal contact with those of others. The fire no doubt 
 may smoulder in the dull and languid embers; it is 
 when the external breeze sweeps over them, that they 
 begin to sparkle and glow, and vindicate the vital ele- 
 mr^nt they contain. The diamond in the mine has the 
 same internal properties in the darkness as in the light ; 
 it is not till the sun shines upon it, that it flashes on 
 the eye its splendor. Look at a flower of any par- 
 ticular species ; we see that, as it is developed in con- 
 nection with a variety of external influences, — as it 
 comes successively under the action of the sun, rain, 
 dew, soil, — it expands in a particular manner, and in 
 that only. It exhibits a certain configuration of parts, 
 a certain form of leaf, a certain color, fragrance, and no 
 other. We do not doubt, on the one hand, that with- 
 out the " skyey influences " these things would never 
 have been ; nor, on the other, that the flower assumes 
 this form of development, and this alone, in virtue of 
 its internal structure and organization. But both sets 
 of conditions must conspire in the result. 
 
 It is much the same with the mind. That it pos- 
 sesses certain tendencies and faculties, which, as it 
 develops itself, will terminate in certain ideas and sen- 
 timents, is admitted ; but apart from certain external 
 conditions of development, those sentiments and ideas 
 will, in effect, never be formed, — the mind will be in 
 perpetual slumber. Thus, in point of fact, this contro- 
 versy is connected ultimately with that ancient dispute 
 as to the origin, sources, and genesis of human knowl-, 
 edge and sentiments. I shall simply take for granted 
 that you are (as most philosophers are) an advocate of 
 innate capacities, but not of " innate ideas " ; of " innate 
 susceptibilities," but not of " innate sentiments " ; that 
 is, I presume you do not contend that the mind pos- 
 sesses more than the faculties — the laws of thought 
 
288 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 and feeling — which, under conditions of external de 
 velopment, actually give birth to thoughts and feelings 
 These faculties and susceptibilities are, no doubt, con 
 genital with the mind, — or, rather, are the mind itself. 
 I But its actually manifested phenomena wait the touch 
 ^ of the external ; and they will be modified accordingly. 
 It is absolutely dependent on experience in this sense, 
 that it is only as it is operated upon by the outward 
 world that the dormant faculties, whatever they are, and 
 whatever their nature, be they few or many, — intellect- 
 ual, moral, or spiritual, — are first awakened. If a mind 
 were created (it is, at least, a conceivable case) with all 
 the avenues to the external world closed, — in fact, we 
 sometimes see approximations to such a condition in 
 ' certain unhappy individuals, — we do not doubt that 
 such a mind, by the present laws of the human consti- 
 tution, could not possess any thoughts, feelings, emo- 
 tions ; in fact, could exhibit none of the phenomena, 
 spiritual, intellectual, moral, or sensational, which now 
 diversify it. In proportion as we see human beings 
 approach this condition, — in fact, we sometimes see 
 them approach it very nearly, — we see the " potentiali- 
 ties " of the soul (I do not like the word, but it ex- 
 presses my meaning better than any other I know) 
 held in abeyance, and such an imperfectly awakened 
 man does not, in some cases, manifest the degree of 
 J sensibility or intelligence manifested in many animals. 
 v' /If the seclusion from sense and experience be quite 
 ; 1 complete, the life of such a soul would be wrapped up 
 I in the germ, and possess no more consciousness than a 
 vegetable. 
 
 It appears, then, that universally, however true it may 
 be, and doubtless is, that the laws of thought and fuel- 
 ing enable us to derive from external influence what it 
 alone would never give, yet that influence is an indis- 
 
ON A BOOK-REVELATION. 289 
 
 peiisable condition, as we are at present constituted, of 
 the development of any and of all our faculties. 
 
 As this seems the law of development universally, iV 
 is so of the spiritual and leligious part of our nature as 
 well as the rest; and in this very fact we have abun- 
 dant scope for the possibility and utility of a revela- 
 tion, — if God be pleased to give one, — even of ele- 
 mentary moral and spiritual truth; since, though con- 
 ceding the perfect congruity between that truth and] 
 the structure of the soul, it is only as it is in some way I 
 actually presented to it from without, that it arrives at 
 the conscious possession of it. And what, after all, but 
 such an external source of revelation is that Volume of 
 Nature, which, operating in perfect analogy with the 
 aforesaid conditions of the soul's development, awakens, 
 though imperfectly, the dormant elements of religious 
 and spiritual life ? So far from its being true in any 
 intelligible sense that an external revelation of moral 
 and spiritual truth is impossible, it is absolutely neces- 
 sary, in some form, as a condition of its evolution ; so 
 far from its being true that such revelation is an ab- 
 surdity, it is in strict analogy with the fundamental laws 
 of our being. Whether, if this be so, the express ex- 
 ternal presentation of such truth in a book constructed 
 by divine wisdom and expressed in human language, -— 
 this last being the most universal and most appropriate 
 instrument by which man's dormant powers are actually 
 awakened, — may not be a more effective method of 
 attaining the end than any of man's devising, whether 
 instinctive or artificial ; or than the casual influences of 
 external nature, well or ill deciphered ; — all this is an- 
 other question. But some such external apparatus — 
 applied to the faculties of men — is essential, whether 
 it be in the Volume of Nature, or in the " Bible " or in 
 a book of Mr. Newman or Mr Parker. All that makes 
 
 25 
 
290 THE ECLIPSE OP FAITH. 
 
 the difference between you and a Hottentot (to recur 
 to that illustration which Harrington, I really think, 
 fairly employed) depends on external influences, and 
 the consequent development of the spiritual and re- 
 ligious faculties. 
 
 And this very fact — the unspeakable differences be- 
 tween man and man, nation and nation, as regards the 
 recognition, the conscious possession, of even elementary 
 "moral and spiritual truth" (varying, as it perpetually 
 does, as those external influences vary, and more or less 
 perfect, according as that external " revelation," which, 
 in some degree, and of some species, is indispensable, is 
 more or less perfect) — affords another indication of the 
 ample utility of an external divine revelation, as well as 
 of its possibility ; and a proof that, if there be one, it is 
 in harmony, again, with the conditions of human na- 
 ture. And here I may employ, in further illustration, 
 one of the analogies I adverted to a little time ago. 
 Not only is the flower never independent of external in- 
 fluences for its actual development, — not only would it 
 remain in the germ without them, — but we see that 
 within certain limits, often very wide, the kind of ex- 
 ternal influence operates powerfully on the species, and 
 on the individual itself; — according as it is in one 
 climate or another, — in this soil or that, — submitted 
 to culture or suffered to grow wild. It is needless to 
 apply the analogy. While we see that the moral and 
 spiritual faculties of man no more than his other facul- 
 .ties can attain their development except in coopera- 
 tion with some external influences, we also see that they 
 exhibit every degree and variety of development accord- 
 ing to the quality of those external influences. Is there 
 then not even a possibility left for an external revela- 
 tion ? If the actual exhibition of any spiritual and 
 religious phenomena in man not only depends on some 
 
ON A BOOK-REVELATION. 291 
 
 external influences and culture, but perpetually varies/ 
 with them, what would such a revelation be but a pro-i 
 vision in analogy with these facts? But it is sufficient^ 
 to rebut this gratuitous dictum, of an external revela- 
 tion of "spiritual and moral truth being impossible,'^ 
 that some external influence is necesssary for any de- 
 velopment of the religious faculty at all. If the last be 
 necessary^ I cannot conceive how the other should be 
 impossible. 
 
 Nor is it any reply to say, — as I think has been 
 
 abundantly shown in your debates with Harrington, j 
 
 that any such external influences only make articulate j 
 that which already existed inarticulately in the heart ; \ 
 that they only chafe and stimulate into life " the ivory - 
 of Pygmalion's statue," to use his expression, — the dor- 
 mant principles and sentiments which somehow existed, 
 but were in deep slumber. That which makes them 
 vital, active, the objects of consciousness and the sour- 
 ces of power, may well be called a " revelation." Nay, 
 since it seems that, in some way, this outward voice 
 must be heard first, I think it is more properly so called 
 than the internal response of the heart. That is rather 
 the echo. 
 
 It may be admitted that the elementary truths of re- 
 ligion, once propounded, are promptly admitted, but 
 still in some external shape they require to be pro- 
 pounded. There is such a thing in the human mind 
 as unrealized truth, both intellectual and spiritual ; the 
 inarticulate muttering of an obscurely felt sentiment ; a 
 vague appetency for something we are not distinctly 
 conscious of. The clear utterance of it, its distinct 
 proposition to us, is the very thing; that is often wanted 
 to convert this dim feeling into distinct vision. This is 
 the electric spark^which transforms two invisible gases 
 into a visible and transparent fluid ; this is the influence 
 
2^2 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 which evolves the latent caloric, and makes it a power- 
 ful and active element. 
 
 I cannot help thinking that the great source of your 
 fallacy on this subject arises from confounding the idea 
 of certain characteristic tendencies and potentialities of 
 our nature with the supposition, — contradicted by the 
 whole religious history of man in all ages, — that they 
 must be everywhere efficaciously active, and spontane- 
 ously exhibit a moral manifestation ; than which there 
 cannot, I conceive, be a greater error. 
 
 I must entreat you to recollect Harrington's dilemma, 
 liither the supposed truths of your spiritual theory, or 
 that of Mr. Newman or Mr. Parker, are known to all 
 mankind, or not ; if they are, surely their books, and 
 every such book is the most impertinent in the world ; 
 if not, these authors did well to write, supposing them 
 , to have truth on their side ; but then that vindicates 
 the possibility and utility of a "book-revelation." 
 
 II. But I go a step further, and not only contend 
 that, from the very law of the soul's development, there 
 is ample scope for a revelation, even of elementary 
 " moral and spiritual truth," but that even if we sup- 
 posed all men in actual possession of that truth, in some 
 sliape or other, there would still be abundant scope for 
 a divinely constructed external instrument for giving 
 il efficacy; and that this, again, is in perfect analogy 
 with the fundamental condition of the soul's action. 
 The principles of spiritual and religious life are capa- 
 ble m an infinite variety of ways, of being modified, 
 intensified, vivified, by the external influences brought 
 to bear upon them from time to time. Not only must 
 that external influence be exerted for the first awaken- 
 ing of the soul, but it must be continued all our life 
 long, in order to maintain the principles thus elicited 
 in a state of activity. Sometimes they seem for a while 
 
ON A BOOK-REVELATION. 293 
 
 to have been half obliterated, — to fade away from the 
 consciousness ; they are reillurained, made to blaze out 
 again in brilliant light on the "walls of the chambers 
 of imagery," by some outward stimulus ; by a " word 
 spoken in season " ; by the recollection of some weighty 
 apothegm which embodies truth, — some ennobling 
 image which illustrates it; by the utterance of certain 
 " charmed words," hallowed by association as they fall 
 on the external sense, or are recalled by memory. How 
 familiar to us all is this dependence on the external! 
 How dull, how sluggish, has often been the soul! A 
 single word, the sight of an object surrounded with 
 vivid associations, the sudden suggestion of a half- 
 forgotten strain of poetry or song, — what power have 
 these to stir its stagnant depths, and awaken " spiritual " 
 and every other species of emotion, as well as intel- 
 lectual activity! The lightning does not more sud- 
 denly cleave the cloud in which it slumbered, the sleep- 
 ing ocean is not more suddenly ruffled by the descend- 
 ing tempest, than the soul of man is thus capable of 
 being vivified and animated by the presentation of ap- 
 propriate objects, — nay, often by even the most casual 
 external impulse. If this be so, is it not possible that 
 an external instrument for thus stimulating and vivify- 
 ing spiritual life might be given us by God ; which, if 
 not, in literal strictness, a "revelation," would virtually 
 have all the effect of one, as rekindling the dying 
 light, reillumining the fading characters, of spiritual 
 truth ? 
 
 Nor, surely, is there much presumption inr-supposing 
 that the appropriate influences of such an instrumen- 
 tality may be brought to bear upon us with infinite ad- 
 vantage by Him who alone possesses perfect access to 
 all the avenues of our spirits ; a perfect mastery of oui 
 whole nature ; of intellect, imagination, and conscience , 
 35 * 
 
294 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 of those laws of association and emotion which He 
 himself has framed. If Shakspeare and Milton can 
 daily exercise over myriads of minds an ascendency 
 which makes their admirers speak of them almost with 
 the " Bibliolatry " with which Mr. Newman makes the 
 Christian speak of the Bible, I apprehend God could 
 construct a " book," even though it told man nothing' 
 which was strictly a revelation, which might be of in- 
 finite value to him ; simply from the fact that the 7nodes 
 in which truths operate upon us, and by which our 
 faculties are educated to their perfection, are scarcely 
 less important than either the truths or the faculties 
 themselves. 
 
 But I need say the less upon this point, inasmuch as 
 Mr. Newman has spoken of the New Testament, and 
 its influence over his mental history, in terms which 
 conclusively show that, if it be not a " revelation," am- 
 ple space is left for such a divinely constructed book, 
 if God were pleased to give one. 
 
 " There is no book in all the world," says he, " which 
 I love and esteem so much as the New Testament, with 
 the devotional parts of the Old. There is none which I 
 know so intimately, the very words of which dwell close 
 to me in my most sacred thoughts^ none for which I so 
 thank God, none on which my soul and heart have been 
 ^o so great an extent moulded. In my early boyhood^ it 
 was my private delight and daily companion ; and to it 
 I owe the best part of whatever wisdom there is in my 
 manhood." * 
 
 I only doubt whether even this testimony, strong as 
 it is, fully, represents the power which the Book has 
 had in modifying his interior life, though he would now 
 fain renounce its proper authority ; whether it has not 
 
 *• Soul, pp. 241, 242. 
 
ON A BOOK-REVELATION. 295 
 
 had more to do the n he thinks in originating^ his con- 
 ception of such " moral and spiritual " truth as he still 
 recognizes. Its very language comes so spontaneously 
 to his lips, that his dialect of "spiritualism" is one 
 continued plagiarism from David and Isaiah, Paul and 
 Christ. Nay, it may well be doubted whether the en- 
 tire substance of his spiritual theory be any thing else 
 than a distorted and mutilated Christianity. 
 
 Some of the previous observations apply to the possi- 
 bility and utihty of a divinely originated statement of 
 " ethical truth " ; nor will they be neutralized by an ob- 
 jection which Mr. Newman is fond of urging, — namely, 
 that a book cannot express (as it is freely acknowledged 
 no book can) the limitations with which maxims of 
 ethical truth are to be received and applied ; that all it 
 can do is to give general principles, and leave them to 
 be applied by the individual reason and conscience. 
 Such reasomng^is refuted by fact The same thing 
 precisely is done, and necessarily done, in every depart- 
 ment in which men attempt to convey instruction in 
 any particular art or method. It is thus with the gen- 
 eral principles of mechanics, of law, of medicine. Yet 
 men never entertain a notion that the collection and 
 inculcation of such maxims are of no use, or of little, 
 merely because they must be intelligently modified and 
 not blindly applied in action. If indeed there were 
 any force in the objection, it would put an end to all 
 instruction, — that of Mr. Newman's " spiritual faculty " 
 amongst the rest, for that too can only prompt us by 
 general impulses, and leaves us in the same ignorance 
 and perplexity how far we are to obey them. That is 
 still to be otherwise determined. The genuine result 
 of such reasoning, if it were acted upon, would be that 
 we need never, in any science or art whatever, trouble 
 ourselves to enunciate any general principle or maxim, 
 
296 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 because perfectly useless ! Similarly, we need never 
 inculcate on children the duty of obeying their parents, 
 honoring their superiors, of being frugal or diligent, 
 humble or aspiring, the particular circumstances and 
 limitations in which they are to be applied being inde- 
 terminate ! But is not the experience of every day and 
 of all the world against it? Is not the early and sedu- 
 lous inculcation of just maxims of duiy felt to be a great 
 auxiliary to its performance in the circumstances in 
 which it is necessary to apply them ? Is not the pos- 
 session of a general rule, with the advantages of a clear 
 and concise expression, — in the form of familiar prov- 
 erbs, or embodied in powerful imagery, — a potent sug"' 
 gestive to the mind ; not only whispering of duty, but, 
 by perpetual recurrence, aiding the habit of attending to 
 it ? Is not the early and earnest iteration of such sen- 
 tentious wisdom in the ears of the young, — the honor 
 which has been paid to sages who have elicited it, or 
 felicitously expressed it, — the care with which these 
 treasures of moral wisdom have been garnered up, — 
 the perpetual efforts to conjoin elementary moral truth 
 with the fancy and association, — is not all this a stand- 
 ing testimony to a consciousness of the value of such 
 auxiliaries of virtue and duty ? Is it hot felt, that, how- 
 ever general such truths may be, the very forms of ex- 
 pression, — the portable shape in which the truth is pre- 
 sented, — have an immense value in relation to prac- 
 tice ? Admitting, therefore, as before, — but, as before, 
 only conceding it for argument's sake (for the limits 
 of variation, even as regards the elementary truths 
 of morals^ are, as experience shows, very wide), — that 
 each man in some shape could anticipate for himself 
 the more important ethical truth, there would be yet 
 ample scope left for the utility of a divinely constructed 
 instrument for its exhibition and enforcement, in par- 
 
ON A BO, IK. REVELATION. 297 
 
 feet harmony with the modes in which it is actually ex- 
 hibited and enforced by man, in close analogy with the 
 form in which he attempts the same task, whenever he 
 teaches any practical art or method whatever. 
 
 Only may it not be again presumed here, that He 
 who knows perfectly " what is in man " would be able 
 to perform the work with correspondent perfection? 
 Whether He has performed it in the Bible or not, that 
 book does, at all events, contain not merely a larger 
 portion of pure ethical truth than any other in the 
 world, but ethical truth expressed and exhibited (as 
 Mr. Newman himself, and most other persons, would 
 admit) in modes incomparably better adapted than in 
 any other book to lay hold of the memory, the imagi- 
 nation, the conscience, and the heart. 
 
 Even then, if we conceded that elementary " spiritual 
 and moral truth " is not only congruous to man's facul- 
 ties, but in some shape universally recognized and pos- 
 sessed, it might yet be contended, from the manner in 
 which such truth is dependent for its power and vitality 
 on the forms in which it comes in contact with the hu- 
 man spirit and stimulates it, that ample space is left 
 for such a divine instrument as the Bible ; and that it 
 would be in perfect conformity with the laws of our 
 nature, — in analogy with the known modes in which 
 external aids give efficacy to such truth. At the same 
 time, be pleased once more to remember, that I con- 
 cede so much only for argument's sake ; I contend that 
 in the stricter sense, without some external aid, — and 
 the Bible may be at least as effectual, — ; the religious 
 faculty will not expand at all ^ and that, even where 
 there are these indispensable external influences, the 
 recognition of the truth is obscure or bright, as those 
 influences vary in their degrees of appropriateness. 
 Where they are rude and imperfect, (a& amongst bar- 
 
298 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 barous nations) we have the spectacle of a soul which 
 •r (liruggles towards the light, like a plant to which but a 
 small portion of the sun's rays is admitted ; it depends 
 on the free admission of that light whether or not it 
 shall arrive at its full development, — its beauty, its 
 fragrance, and its color. The most that merely human 
 culture can promise, even under the most favorable 
 circumstances, (witness ancient Greece I) is that men, 
 in some few favored instances, may possibly attain 
 those truths which it may be admitted are congenial to 
 the soul, and easily recognized when once propounded, 
 but which, in fact, few men, by nature's sole teaching, 
 ever do clearly attain. It is infinitely important that 
 /the path, dimly explored by sages alone, should be 
 ' { thrown open to mankind. Is it not even possible^ then, 
 that this task should be performed by a book like the 
 Bible ? and if such a book were given, would it not be, 
 I once more ask, in analogy with the fundamental laws 
 of the soul's development, — its uniform dependence on 
 external influences for any result, and the variable na- 
 ture of that result, as the influence itself is more or less 
 appropriate ? To affirm that each man at once, by in- 
 ternal illumination alone, attains a clear recognition of 
 even elementary " moral and spiritual truth " is to ig- 
 nore the laws according to which the soul's activity is 
 developed, and to contradict universal experience, which 
 tells us that the great majority of mankind are but in 
 partial possession of this " spiritual and moral truth," 
 and hold it for the most part in connection with the 
 most prodigious and pernicious errors. 
 
 You will perceive that I have here chosen to argue 
 the question of the possibility and utility of a " revela- 
 tion " on your cwn grounds; but recollect what I have 
 said, that, in fact, the principal reasons for a revelation 
 would still remain in force, even if all you demand 
 
ON A BOOK-REVELATION. 299 
 
 were conceded. It is a point which I do not find that 
 Mr. Newman's dictum affects. 
 
 There may obviously be other facts and other truths 
 as intimately connected with man's destinies and hap- 
 piness as the elementary truths of religious and moral 
 science ; facts and truths which may be necessary to 
 give efficacy to mere elementary principles, and to sup- 
 ply motives to the performance of moral precepts. And 
 how ample in this respect are man's necessities, and 
 how large the field for a " divine revelation," if we con- 
 tent ourselves with such a meagre theology as that of 
 Mr. Parker and Mr. Newman, you see plainly enough 
 in the questions asked by Harrington ! How many of 
 Mr. Newman's and Mr. Parker's assumptions — the 
 moment they step beyond such "spiritual and moral 
 truth " as is " elementary " indeed — does Harrington 
 declare that he finds unverified by his own conscious- 
 ness, and needing, if true, an authority to confirm them 
 far more weighty than theirs! As to the terms of a.<>\ 
 cess to the Supreme Being, — his aspects towards man, \ 
 
 — man's duties towards him, — the future destinies,; 
 even the future existence, of the soul (a point on which ) 
 these writers are themselves divided), — the boasted 
 " progress " of the race, which they " prophesy," indeed, 
 but without any credentials of their mission, — you see 
 how on all these points Harrington maintains — and oh! 
 how many, if the Bible be untrue, must maintain with 
 him — that he is in total darkness ! 
 
 in. But I must proceed to show yet further, if you 
 will have patience with me, that, supposing a divine 
 external revelation to be given, it is in striking analogy, 
 not only with the primary laws of development of our 
 whole intellectual and spiritual being, but with the fact 
 
 — undeniable, however unaccountable — that our sub- 
 jection to external influence's does, in truth, not only 
 
300 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 mould and modify, but usually determine, our inte. 
 lectual and religious position. "We see not only that 
 some external influence is necessary to awaken any 
 activity at all, but that it is actually so powerful and so 
 inevitable from the manner in which man enters the 
 world, and is brought up in it, — his long years of de- 
 pendence, absolute dependence, on the education which 
 is given him (and what an education it has ever been 
 for the mass of the race !), — that it makes all the differ- 
 ence, intellectually and morally, between a New Zea- 
 land savage and an Englishman, — between the gross- 
 est idolater and the most enlightened Christian. This 
 fact affects alike our intellectual and spiritual condi- 
 tion. The savage can use his senses better than the 
 civilized; but the interval is trifling compared with 
 that between the intellectual condition of a man who 
 can appreciate Milton and Newman, and that of our 
 Teutonic ancestors. In the sentiments of a spiritual 
 nature there is the same wide gulf — or rather wider — 
 between a Hottentot and a Paul. Yet the same " sus- 
 ceptibilities " and " potentialities " are in each human 
 mind. The same remark applies to the sense of the 
 beautiful and sublime ; the characteristic faculties are in 
 all mankind ; it is education which elicits them. Nay, 
 would you not stare at a man who should affirm that 
 education was not itself a species of " revelation," 
 simply because the truths thus communicated were all 
 " potentially " in the mind before ? The fact is, that 
 education is of coordinate importance with the very 
 faculties without which it cannot be imparted. 
 
 Now we cannot break away from that law of de- 
 velopment with which our individual existence is in- 
 volved, and which necessarily (as far as any will of 
 ours is concerned) is a most important, nay, the most 
 important, element in that teriium quid which man 
 
ON A BOOK-REVELATION. 
 
 301 
 
 becomes in virtue of the threefold elements which con- 
 stitute him ; — 1st, a given internal constitution of nuind ; 
 2d, the modifying effects of the actual exercise of his 
 faculties and their interaction with one another, result- 
 ing in habits; and, 3d, that external world of influences 
 which supplies the materiel from which this strange 
 plant extracts its aliment, and ultimately derives its fair 
 fruits or its poisonous berries. All this is inevitable, ) 
 upon the supposition that man was to be a social, not a ) 
 solitary being, — linked by an indissoluble chain to those 
 who came before and to those who come after him, — 
 dependent, absolutely dependent, upon others for his 
 being, his training, his whole condition, civil, social, 
 intellectual, moral, and religious. If, then, an external , 
 instrument of moral and religious culture were given 
 by God to man, would it not be in strict analogy with 
 this tremendous and mysterious law of human develop- 
 ment? 
 
 IV. I must be permitted to proceed yet one step 
 further, and affirm that the very form in which this 
 presumed revelation has (as we say) been given — 
 that of a Book — is also in strict analogy with the 
 law by which God himself has made this an indispen- 
 sable instrument of all human progress. We have 
 just seen that man is what he is, as much (to say the 
 least) by the influence of external influence as by the 
 influence of the internal principles of his constitution ; 
 it must be added, that to make that external influence 
 of much efficiency at all, still more to render it either 
 universally or progressively beneficial, the world waits 
 for a — Book. Among the varied external influences 
 amidst which the human race is developed, this is in- 
 comparably the most important, and the only one 
 that is absolutely essential Upon it the collective 
 education of the race depends. It is the sole 
 
 26 
 
302 
 
 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 instrument of registering, perpetuating, transmitting 
 thought. 
 
 Yes, whatever trivial and vulgar associations may- 
 impair our due conceptions of the grandeur of this ma- 
 terial and artificial organon of man's development, as 
 compared with the intellectual and moral energies, 
 which have recourse to it, but which are almost im- 
 potent without it, God has made man's whole career 
 of triumphs dependent upon this same art of writing ! 
 Y / The whole progress of the world he has created, he has 
 ( made dependent upon the Alphabet ! Without this the 
 progress of the individual is inconceivably slow, and 
 with him, for the most part, progress terminates. By 
 this alone can we garner the fruits of experience, — be- 
 come wise by the wisdom of others, and strong by their 
 strength. Without this man everywhere remains, age 
 after age, immovably a savage ; and, if he were to lose 
 it when he has once gained it, would, after a little 
 ineffectual flutter by the aid of tradition, sink into 
 barbarism again. Till this cardinal want is supplied, 
 all considerable " progress " is impossible. It may look 
 odd to say that the whole world is dependent on any 
 thing so purely artificial; but, in point of fact, it is 
 only another way of stating the truth, that God has 
 constituted the race a series of mutually dependent 
 beings ; and as each term of this series is perishable and 
 evanescent, the development and improvement of the 
 race must depend on an instrument by which an inter- 
 connection can be maintained between its parts ; till 
 * then, progress must not only be most precarious, but vir- 
 tually impossible. To the truth of this all history testi- 
 fies. I say, then, not only that, if God has given man a 
 revelation at all, he has but acted in analogy with that 
 law by which he has made man so absolutely dependent 
 upon external culture, but that if he has given it in the 
 
ON A BOOK-REVELATION. 303 
 
 very shape of a book, he has acted also in strict analogy 
 with the very form in which he has imposed that law 
 on the world. He has simply made use of that instru- 
 ment, which, by the very constitution of our nature and 
 of the world, he has made absolutely essential to the 
 progress and advancement of humanity. May we not 
 conclude from analogy, that if God has indeed thus 
 constituted the world, and if he busies himself at all 
 in the fortunes of miserable humanity, he has not dis- 
 dained to take part in its education, by condescendingly 
 using that very instrument which himself has made the 
 condition of all human progress ? I think, even if you 
 hesitate to admit that God has given us a " book-reve- 
 lation," you must admit it would be at least in mani- 
 fest coincidence with the laws of human development 
 and the " constitution and course of nature." 
 
 To conclude ; I must say that Mr. Newman, in his 
 account of the genesis of religion, does himself in effect 
 admit (as Harrington has remarked) an " external rev- 
 elation," though not in a book. For what else is that 
 apparatus of external influences by which the several 
 preparatory or auxiliary emotions are awakened, and 
 the development of your " spiritual faculty " effected ? 
 — contact with the outward world, — with visible and ) 
 material nature, — the instruction of the living voice ! ' "» 
 If you acknowledge all this without derogation, as you 
 imagine, to the sublime and divine functions of the 
 indwelling " spiritual " power, why this rabid, this, I 
 might almost say, puerile (if I ought not rather to say 
 fanatical), hatred of the very notion of a " book-revela- 
 tion " ? 
 
 Let us confess that, if a revelation be possible at all, 
 it cannot be more worthy of God to give one even from 
 " t(;i7/im," than in such a shape as a "book"; since 
 without a " BOOK " man remains <an idolater, in spite of 
 
304 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 his fine " spiritual faculties/' and a barbarian, in spite 
 of his sublime intellect ; in fact, not much better than 
 the beasts, in spite of all those noble capacities which, 
 r^\\. hough they are in him, are as it were hopelessly 
 ~r/ locked up till he has obtained this key to theur treas- 
 ures. 
 
 Nor do I think that the invectives of the modem 
 spiritualists on this point are particularly becoming, 
 when we reflect not only that they freely give mankind 
 what Harrington declares to be to him, and I must say 
 are equally to me, their " book-revelations," but in very 
 deed, as he truly affirms, have given us nothing else. 
 It has been much the same with all who have rejected 
 historical Christianity, from Lord Herbert's time down- 
 wards. 
 
 I paused, and Fellowes mused. At last he said, " I 
 cannot feel convinced that the * absolute religion ' is not 
 (as Mr. Parker says) essentially the same in all men, 
 and internally revealed. The want exists in all, and 
 there must, according to the arrangements of universal 
 nature, be the supply ; just as the eye is for the light, 
 and the light is for the eye. As he says, * we feel in- 
 stinctively it must be so.' " 
 
 " Unhappily," said Harrington, " Mr. Parker says 
 that many things must be which we find are not, and 
 this among the number. At least I, for one, shall not 
 I grant that the sort of spiritual ' supply ' which is given 
 \ to the Calmuck, or the savage * besmeared with the 
 blood of human sacrifices,' at all resembles that uniform 
 light which is made for all people's eyes." 
 
 Fellowes seemed still perplexed with his old diffi- 
 culty. " I cannot help thinking," he began again, "that 
 the ' spuritual faculty ' acts by immediate ' insight,' and 
 has nothing to do with logical processes' or *intel- 
 
ON A BOOK-REVELATION. 
 
 305 
 
 lectual propositions,' or the sensational or the imagina- 
 tive parts of 'our nature; that it 'gazes immediately 
 upon spiritual truth.' Now in the argument you have 
 constructed, you have expressly implied the contrary. 
 You have said, you know, that, even if you granted 
 men to be in possession of " spiritual and moral truth,' 
 there might still be large space for a divinely construct- 
 ed book from the reflex operation of the intellect, the 
 imagination, and so forth, upon the products of the 
 spiritual faculty; both directly, and also indirectly, in- 
 asmuch as external influences modify or stimulate 
 them." 
 
 " But," said I, " does not Mr. Newmap himself, in 
 the first part of his Treatise on the Soul, admit the re- 
 ciprocal action of all these on the too plastic spiritual 
 products ; and as to ' logical and intellectual processes,* 
 does he not continually employ them — for his system 
 of opinions, though he will not allow them to be em- 
 ployed against it? And by what other means than 
 through the intervention of your senses^ by which you 
 read his pages, — your imagination^ by which you seize 
 his illustrations, — your intellect^ by which you compre- 
 hend his arguments, did he reclaim you, as you say he 
 has done, from many of your ancient errors? How 
 else, in the name of common sense, did he get access 
 to your soul at all ? " 
 
 " I cannot pretend to defend Mr. Newman's con- 
 sistency," said he, " in his various statements on this 
 subject. I acknowledge I am even puzzled to find out 
 how he did convince me, upon his hypothesis." 
 
 " Are you sure," said I, laughing, " that he ever con- 
 vinced you at all ? However, all your perplexity seems 
 to me to arise from supposing the spiritual powers of 
 man to act in greater isolation from his other powers 
 than is conceivable or even possible. Not apart from 
 
 26* 
 
306 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 these, but in intimate conjunction with them, are the 
 functions of the soul performed. The divorce between 
 the 'spiritual faculties' and the intellect, which your 
 favorite, Mr. Newman, has attempted to effect, is im- 
 possible. It is an attempt to sever phenomena which 
 coexist in the unity of our own consciousness. I am 
 bound in justice to admit, that there are others of our 
 * modern spiritualists ' who condemn this preposterous 
 attempt to separate what God hath joined so insepa- 
 rably. Even Mr. Newman does practically contradict 
 his own assertions ; and outraged reason and intellect 
 have avenged his wrongs upon them by deserting him 
 when he has invoked them, and left him to express his 
 paradoxes in endless perplexity and confusion. But 
 this conversation is no bad preface to some observa- 
 tions on this important fallacy, (as I conceive,) which I 
 have appended to the paper I have read, and, with your 
 leave, I will finish with them." They assented, and I 
 proceeded. 
 
 It is very common for philosophers, spiritual and 
 otherwise, to be guilty of two opposite errors, both ex- 
 posed in the first book of the Novum Organum. One 
 is, that of supposing the phenomena which they have to 
 analyze more simple, more capable of being reduced to 
 some one principle, than is really the case ; the other, 
 that of introducing a cumbrous complexity of operations 
 unknown to nature. It is unnecessary here to adduce 
 examples of the last; quite as frequently, at least, is 
 man apt to be guilty of the first. He imagines that the 
 complex and generally deeply convoluted phenomena 
 he is called to investigate are capable of being more 
 summarily analyzed than they can be. The ends to be 
 answered in nature by the same set of instruments are 
 in many cases so various, and in some respects so limit 
 
ON A PREVAILING FALLACY. 307 
 
 and traverse one another, that though the same mul- 
 tiplicity of ends is attained more completely, and in 
 higher aggregate perfection, than by any device which 
 man's ingenuity could substitute for them, yet those 
 instruments are necessarily very complex at the best. 
 Look, for example, at the system of organs by which, 
 variously employed, we utter the infinite variety of ar- 
 ticulate sounds, perform the most necessary of all vital 
 functions (that of respiration), masticate solid food, 
 and swallow fluids. The miracle is, that any one set 
 of organs in any conceivable juxtaposition should suf- 
 fice to discharge with such amazing facility and rapid- 
 ity these different and rapidly alternated functions; 
 yet I suppose few who have studied anatomy will 
 deny, that, though relatively to the variety of purposes 
 it has to perform the apparatus is very simple, it is 
 absolutely very complex ; and that its parts play into 
 one another with great facility indeed, but with endless 
 intricacy. 
 
 To apply these observations to my special object. 
 To one who attentively studies man's immaterial anat- 
 omy, much the same complexity is, I think, apparent ; 
 the philosopher is too apt to assume it to be much 
 more simple than it is. It is the very error, as I con- 
 ceive, into which some of you modern " spiritualists " 
 fall when considering the phenomena of our religious 
 nature. You do not sufficiently regard man as a com- 
 plicated unity ; you represent, if you do not suppose, 
 the several capacities of his nature, — the different parts 
 of it, sensational, emotional, intellectual, moral, spirit- 
 ual, — as set off" from one another by a sharper boun- 
 dary line than nature acknowledges. They all work for 
 immediate ends, indeed ; but they all also work for, 
 with, ?ind upon each other, for other ends than their 
 own. Yet, as they all exist in one indivisible mind, or 
 
308 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 rather constitute it, they form one most intricate ma- 
 chine : and it can rarely hzppen that the particular 
 phenomena of our interior nature we happen to be in- 
 vestigating do not involve many others. Throughout 
 his book on the " Soul," we find Mr. Newman employ- 
 ing expressions (though I admit there are others which 
 contradict them) which imply that the phenomena of 
 religion, of what he calls " spiritual insight," may be 
 viewed in clearer distinction from those of the intellect, 
 than, as I conceive, they ever can be ; and that a much 
 clearer separation can be effected between them than 
 nature has made possible. To hear him sometimes 
 speak, one would imagine that the logical, the moral, 
 and the spiritual are held together by no vital bond of 
 connection ; nay, from some expressions, one would 
 think that the " logical " faculty had nothing to do with 
 religion, if it is not to be supposed rather to stand in 
 the way of it ; that the " intellect " and the " spiritual 
 faculty " may each retire to its " vacant interlunar 
 cave," and never trouble its head about what the other 
 is doing. Thus he says in one place, " All the grounds 
 of Belief proposed to the mere understanding have noth- 
 inig to do with Faith at allP * In another, " The pro- 
 cesses of thought have nothing to quicken the conscience 
 or affect the soul." f " How, then, can the state of the 
 soul be tested by the conclusion to which the intellect 
 is led ? " f And accordingly you see he everywhere 
 affirms that we ought not to have any better or worse 
 opinion of any man for his " intellectual creed " ; and 
 that " religious progress " cannot be " anticipated " till 
 intellectual " creeds are destroyed." § 
 
 Here one would imagine that the intellectual, moral, 
 
 * Soul, p. 223. t Ibid. p. 245. 
 
 X Ibid. p. 2 45. § Phases, p. 222. 
 
ON A PREVAILING FALLACY. 309 
 
 and spiritual had even less to do with the production of 
 each other's results than matter and mind reciprocally 
 have with theirs. These last, we see, in a thousand 
 cases act and react upon one another ; and modify each 
 other's peculiar products and operations in a most im- 
 portant manner. How much more reasonably may we 
 infer that the elementary faculties of the same indivis- 
 ible mind will not discharge their functions without im- 
 portant reciprocal action ; that in no case can we have 
 the process pure and simple as the result of the opera- 
 tion of a single faculty ! 
 
 If it were not so, I see not how we are to perfom^^ 
 any of the functions of a spiritual nature, even as de- 
 fined by you and your favorite writers ; unless, indeed, 
 you would equip the soul with an entire Sunday suit 
 of separate capacities of reasoning, remembering, imag- 
 ining, hoping, rejoicing, and so on, to be expressly used 
 by the " soul " alone when engaged in her spiritual 
 functions ; quite different from that old, threadbare, 
 much-worn suit of faculties, having similar functions 
 indeed, but exercised on other objects. 
 
 What can be more obvious (and it must be admitted 
 that the most fanatical "spiritualist" employs expres- 
 sions, and, what is more, uses methods, which imply it) 
 than that, whether we have a distinct religious faculty 
 or whether it be fhe result of the action of many fac 
 ulties, the functions of our " spiritual " nature are per 
 formed by the instrumentality, and involve the inter- 
 vention, of the very same much-abused faculties which 
 enable us to perform any other function. It is one and 
 the same indivisible mind which is the subject of relig- 
 ions thought and emotion, and of any other thowght and ; 
 emotion. Religious truths like any other truth, is em- 
 braced by the understanding — as indeed it would be 
 a queer kind of truth that is not is stated in proposi- 
 
310 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 tions; yields infarences, is adorned by eloquence, is il- 
 lustrated by the imagination, and is thus, as well as 
 from its intrinsic claims, rendered powerful over the 
 emotions, the affections, and the will. In brief, when 
 the soul apprehends, reasons, remembers, rejoices, 
 hopes, fears, spiritually^ it surely does not perform these 
 functions by totally different faculties from those by 
 which similar things are done on other occasions. Ail 
 experience and consciousness are against the supposi- 
 tion. In religion, men's minds are employed on more 
 sublime and elevated themes indeed, but the operations 
 themselves are essentially of the same nature as in oth- 
 er cases. Hence we see the dependence of the true de- 
 velopment of religion on the just and harmonious action 
 of all our faculties. They march together ; and it is 
 the glorious prerogative of true religion that it makes 
 them do so ; that all the elements of our nature, being 
 indissolubly connected, and perpetually acting and re- 
 acting on one another, should aid one another and 
 attain a more just conjoint action. If there be accepta- 
 hlefaith^ it presupposes belief of the truths as well as 
 love of it in the heart ; if there be holy habit, it implies 
 just knoiuledge of duty ; if there be spiritual emotion 
 awakened, it will still be in accordance with the laws 
 which ordinarily produce it ; that is, because that which 
 should produce it is perceived by the senses or the intel- 
 lect, is recalled by the memory, is vivified by the imag- 
 ination. If faith and hope and love often kindle into 
 activity, and hallow these instruments by which and 
 through which they act, it is not the less true, that, 
 apart from these, — as constituting the same indivisible 
 mind, — faith and hope and love cannot exist : and not 
 only so ; but whcQ faith is languid, and hope faint, and 
 love expiring, these faculties themselves shall often in 
 their turn initiate the process which shall revive them 
 
HISTORIC CREDIBILITY. 311 
 
 all; some outward object, some incident of life, some 
 "magic word," some glorious image, some stalwart 
 truth, suddenly and energetically stated, shall, through 
 the medium of the senses, the imagination, or the intel- 
 lect, set the soul once more in a blaze, and revive the 
 emottons which it is at other times only their office to 
 express. A sanctified intellect, a hallowed imagination, 
 devout affections, have a reciprocal tendency to stimu- 
 late each other. In whatever faculty of our nature the 
 stimulus may be felt, — in the intellect or the imagina- 
 tion, — it is thence propagated through the mysterious 
 net-work of the soul to the emotions, the affections, the 
 conscience, the will: or, conversely, these last may 
 commence the movement and propagate it in reverse 
 order. Each may become in turn a centre of influence ; 
 but so indivisible is the soul and mind of man, so indis- 
 solubly bound together the elements which constitute 
 them, that the influence once commenced never stops 
 where it began, but acts upon them all; The ripple, as 
 that of a stone dropped into still water, no matter 
 where, may be fainter and fainter the farther from the 
 spot where the commotion began, but it will stop only 
 with the bank. Ordinarily many functions of the mind 
 are involved in each, and sometimes all in one. 
 
 Juhj 24. Yesterday, a somewhat interesting conver- 
 sation took place between Harrington and Edward 
 Robinson, a youth at college, a friend of George Fel- 
 lowes's family. He is a devout admirer of Strauss^ and 
 thinks that writer has completely destroyed the histori- 
 cal character of the Gospels. I was, as usual, struck 
 with the candor and logical consistency with which our 
 sceptic was disposed to regard the subject. 
 
 " You have Lingard and Macaulay here, I see," said 
 
312 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 young Robinson. " I need hardly ask, I think, which 
 you find the most pleasant reading ? " 
 
 " You need not, indeed," cried Harrington. " Mr. 
 Macaulay is so superior to the Roman Catholic histo- 
 rian (though his merits are great too) in genius, in elo- 
 quence, in variety and amplitude of knowledge, iii im- 
 agination, in style, that there is no comparison between 
 hem." 
 
 " And do you think Mr. Macaulay as accurate as he 
 is full of genius and eloquence ? " 
 
 " If he be wo/," said Harrington, laughing, " I am 
 afraid there are very few of us deeply versed enough 
 in history to detect his delinquencies, or even to say 
 whether they have been committed. There may be, for 
 aught I know, some cases (of infinite importance of 
 course) in which he has represented an event as having 
 taken place on the 20th of Dec. 1693 ; whereas it took 
 place on the 3d Jan. 1694 ; or he may have said that 
 Sir Thomas Nobody was the son of another Sir Thomas 
 Nobody, whereas two or three antiquarians can incon- 
 testably prove that he was the son of Sir John Nobody, 
 and nephew of the above. To me, I confess, he ap- 
 pears distinguished scarcely more by the splendor of his 
 imagination than by the opulence of his knowledge, 
 and the imperial command which he possesses over it. 
 But, in truth, the accuracy or otherwise of history, 
 when it is at all remote, is a matter in which I feel less 
 interest than I once did. I read, indeed, Mr. Macaulay 
 with perpetual renewal of wonder and delight. But 
 though I believe that his vivid pictures are the result of 
 a faithful use of his materials, yet, if I must confess the 
 full extent of my scepticism, Ids work, and every other 
 work which involves a reference to events which tran- 
 spired only a century or two ago, is poisoned as history 
 by the suspicion that to ascertain the truth is impos- 
 
HISTORIC CREDIBILITY. 313 
 
 sible. I know it must be so, if the principles of your 
 favorite Strauss are to be received ; and yet it seems so 
 absurd, that I am sometimes inclined, on that account 
 alone, to laugh at Strauss's criticisms, just as David 
 Hume did at his own speculative doubts when he got 
 into society and sat down to backgammon with a friend. 
 At other times, as I say, the whole field of historic in- 
 vestigation seems more or less the territory of scepti- 
 cism.'^ 
 
 " I know not," said the other, " how you can justify 
 any such general scepticism from any thing that Strauss 
 has written." 
 
 " Do you not ? and yet I think it is a perfectly legiti- 
 mate inference. Does not Strauss argue that certain 
 discrepancies are to be observed, certain apparent con- ; 
 tradictions and inconsistencies- detected, in the New \ 
 Testament narratives; and that therefore we are to j 
 reckon, if not the whole, yet by far the larger part, 
 as utterly fabulous or doubtful, mythic or legendary ? 
 Now, I cannot but feel, on the other hand, that these 
 narratives are as strikingly marked by all the usual in- 
 dications of historic truthfulness as any historic writings 
 in the world. The artlessness, simplicity, and speciality \ 
 of the narrative, — a certain inimitable tone and air of * 
 reality, earnestness, and candor, — the general harmony 
 of these so-called sacred writers with themselves and 
 with profane authors (quite as general, to say the least, 
 as usually distinguishes other narratives by different 
 hands), — above all, the long-concealed, and yet most 
 numerous * coincidences ' which lie deep beneath the 
 surface, and which only a very industrious mining 
 brings to light; coincidences which, if ingenuity had 
 been subtle enough to fabricate, that same ingenuity 
 would have been too sagacious to conceal so deep, 
 and which are too numerous and striking (one would 
 
314 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 imagine) to be the effect of accident ; — all these things, 
 I say, would seem to argue (if any thing can) the in- 
 tegrity of the narrative. Yet all these things must 
 necessarily, of course, go for nothing, on Strauss's 
 hypothesis. There are, you say, certain discrepancies, 
 and from them you proceed to conclude that the narra- 
 tive is uncertain, and unworthy of credit; that, if there 
 be a residuum of truth at all, no man can know with 
 any certainty what or how much it is. We must there- 
 fore leave the whole problematical. Now the question 
 comes, whether we must not in consistency apply the 
 same principle further; and, if so, whether we can find 
 in any history whatever stronger marks of credibility ; 
 whether any was ever submitted to an examination 
 more severe, or so severe ; whether any can boast of a 
 arger number of minds, of the first order, giving their 
 assent to it." 
 
 " Let me stop you there," said the other ; " you must 
 consider that those minds were prejudiced in favor of 
 the conclusion. They were inclined to believe the 
 supernatural wonders which these pretended historians 
 retail." 
 
 " How differently men may argue with the same prem- 
 ises ! I was about to mention the suspicion attaching 
 to miraculous narratives, as attesting (I still think so, 
 notwithstanding your observation) that stress and press- 
 ure of supposed historic credibility under which so many 
 powerful minds — minds many of them of the first 
 order — have felt themselves compelled to receive these 
 histories as true, in spite of such obstacles. Surely, 
 you do not think that a miracle is in our age, or has 
 been for many ages, an antecedent ground of credibil- 
 ity ; or that if a history does not contain enough of 
 them, as this assuredly does, it is certain to be believed. 
 No ; do not you with Strauss contend that a miracle is 
 
HISTORIC CREDIBILITY. 315 
 
 not to be believed at all, because it contradicts uniform 
 experience? And yet thousands of powerful minds 
 have believed the truth of these historic records against 
 all this uniform experience ! Their prejudices against 
 it must surely have been stronger than those for it. — 
 But to resume the statement of my difficulties. I say 
 the question returns whether there is any history in the 
 world which either presents in itself gveQ.tev marks of 
 historic credibility, or in which as numerous and equal- 
 ly inexplicable discrepancies cannot be discovered. If 
 there be none, then how far shall we adopt and carry 
 out the principles of Strauss ? for if we carry them out 
 with rigid equity, the whold field of history is aban- 
 doned to scepticism : it is henceforth the domain of 
 doubt and contention ; as, in truth, a very large part of 
 it in Germany has already become, in virtue of these 
 very principles. Much of profane history is abandoned, 
 as well as the sacred ; and Homer becomes as much a 
 shadow as Christ." 
 
 " You seem," said Robinson, " to be almost in the 
 condition to entertain Dr. Whately's ingenious ' His- 
 toric Doubts ' touching the existence of Napoleon Bo- 
 naparte I " * 
 
 " I believe that it is simply our proximity to the 
 events which renders it difficult to entertain them. If 
 the injuries of time and the caprice of fortune should in 
 the remote future leave as large gaps in the evidence, 
 and as large scope for ingenious plausibilities, as in re- 
 lation to the remote past, I believe multitudes would 
 find no difficulty in entertaining those ' doubts.' They 
 seem to me perfectly well argued, and absolutely con- 
 clusive on the historic canons on which Strauss's work 
 is constructed, — namely, that if you find what seem 
 
 * Are the ingenious " Historic Certainties," bj " Aristar hus Newlight " 
 from the same admirable mint ? — Ed. 
 
816 
 
 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 discrepancies and improbabilities in a reputed history, 
 the mass of that historic texture in which they are 
 found may be regarded as mythical or fabulous, doubt- 
 ful or false. If you say the principles of Strauss are 
 false, that is another matter. I shall not think it worth 
 while to contest their truth or their falsehood with you. 
 But if you adhere to them, I will take the liberty of 
 1 showing you that you do not hold them consistently, if 
 \you think any remote history is to be regarded as abso- 
 lutely placed beyond doubt." 
 
 " Well, if you will be grave," said Robinson, " though, 
 upon my word, I thought you in jest, — is it possible 
 that you do not see that there is a vast difference be- 
 tween rejecting, on the same ground of discrepancies^ the 
 credibility of the narratives of the Gospel, and that of 
 any common history ? " 
 
 " I must honestly confess, then, that I do not, if the 
 discrepancies^ as Strauss alleges, and not something 
 else, is to be assigned as the cause of their rejection. 
 If, indeed, like some criminals under despotic govern- 
 ments, they are apprehended and convicted on a certain 
 charge, but really hanged for an entirely different rea- 
 son, I can understand that there may be policy in the 
 proceeding ; but I do not comprehend its argumentative 
 honesty. Be pleased, therefore, (that I may form some 
 conclusion,) to tell me what are those circumstances 
 which so wonderfully discriminate the discrepancies in 
 the New Testament histories from those in other his- 
 tories, as that the inevitable consequence of finding a 
 certain amount of discrepancies in the former leads to 
 the rejection of the entire, or nearly entire, documents 
 in which they are found, while their presence in other 
 histories even to a far greater extent shall not authorize 
 their rejection at all, or the rejection only of the parts 
 in which the discrepancies are found. And yet I think 
 I can guess." 
 
HISTORIC CREDIBILITY. 317. 
 
 " Well, what do you guess ? " 
 
 " That you think that the miraculous nature of the 
 events which form a portion of the New Testament 
 history makes a great difference in the case." 
 
 " And do not you ? " 
 
 " I cannot say I do ; for though it is doubtless 
 Strauss's principal object to get rid of these miracles^ it 
 is not as miracles^ but as history, that his canons of 
 historic criticism are applied to them. It is as history 
 that he attacks the books in which they are contained. 
 His weapons are directed against the miracles, indeed ; 
 but it is only by piercing the history, with which alone 
 the supposed discrepancies had any thing to do." 
 
 " But I cannot conceive that the historic discrepan- 
 cies occurring in connection with such topics must not 
 have more weight attached to them than if they oc- 
 curred in any other history." 
 
 " This is because you have already resolved that 
 miracles are impossible on totally different grounds. 
 But you may see the fallacy in a moment. Talk with 
 a man who does not believe miracles a priori impossi- 
 ble, and that, though of course improbable (otherwise 
 they would be none, I suppose), the authentication of 
 a divine revelation is a sufficient reason for their being 
 wrought, and he evades your argument. You are 
 then compelled, you see, to throw yourself exclusively 
 upon the alleged historic discrepancies; they become 
 your sole weapon ; and if it pierces the New Testament 
 history, I want to know whether it does not equally 
 pierce all other remote history too ? In truth, if, as you 
 and Mr. Fellowes agree, — I only doubt, — a miracle is 
 impossible, nothing can (as I think) be more strange, 
 than that, instead of reposing in that simple fact, which 
 you say is demonstrable, you should fly to historic 
 proofs." 
 
 S7* 
 
^18 
 
 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 \ 
 
 " And do you not think that miracles are impossible 
 and absurd ? " 
 
 " I think nothing, because, as I told Fellowes the 
 other day, I am half inclined to doubt whether I doubt 
 whether a miracle is possible or not, like a genuine 
 sceptic as I am. And this doubt, you see, even of a 
 doubt, makes me cautious. But to resume. If that 
 principle be sound, it seems much more natural to ad- 
 here to it than to attack the Gospels as history. Strauss, 
 however, has thought otherwise ; and while he has left 
 this main dictum unproved, — nay, has not even at- 
 tempted a proof of it, — he has endeavored to shake 
 the historic character of these records, treating them 
 like any other records. I say, therefore, that to adduce 
 the circumstance that the narrative is miraculous, is 
 nothing to the purpose, until the impossibility of miracles 
 is proved ; and then, when this is proved, it is unneces- 
 sary to adduce the discrepancies. If, on the other hand, 
 a man has no difficulty (as the Christian, for example) 
 in believing miracles to be possible, and that they have 
 really occurred, Strauss's argument, as I have said, is 
 j^vaded ; and the seeming discrepancies can do no more 
 
 /against the credibility of the New Testament history, 
 than equal discrepancies can prove against any other 
 
 I document. I will, if possible, make my meaning plain 
 by yet another example. Let us suppose some Walter 
 Scott had compiled some purely fictitious history, pro- 
 fessedly laid in the Middle Ages (and surely even mirac- 
 ulous occurrences cannot be more unreal than these 
 products of sheer imagination) ; and suppose some 
 critic had engaged to prove it fiction from internal evi- 
 dence supplied by contradictions and discrepancies, 
 and so on, would you not think it strange if he were to 
 enforce that argument by saying, * And besides all this, 
 what is "nore suspicious is, that they occur in a work 
 
HISTORIC CREDIBILITY. 319 
 
 of imagination I ' Would you not say, * Learned sir, 
 we humbly thought this was the point you were en- 
 gaged in making out ? Is it not to assume the very 
 point in debate ? And if it be true, would it not be 
 better to stop there at once, instead of taking us so cir- 
 cuitous a road to the same result, which we perceive 
 you had already reached beforehand ? Are you not a 
 little like that worthy Mayor who told Henri Quatre 
 that he had nineteen good reasons for omitting to fire 
 a salute on his Majesty's arrival; the first of which 
 was, that he had no artillery; whereupon his Majesty 
 graciously told him that he might spare the remaining 
 eighteen? ' So I should say in the supposed case. — To 
 return, then : you must, if you would consider the va- 
 lidity of Strauss's argument, lay aside the miraculous 
 objection, which must be decided on quite different 
 grounds, and which, in fact, if valid, settles the contro- 
 versy without his critical aid. All who read Strauss's 
 book either believe that miracles are impossible, or 
 not ; the former need not his criticisms, — they have al- 
 ready arrived at the result by a shorter road ; the latter 
 can only reject the history by supposing the discrepan- 
 cies in it, as history, justify them. I ask you, then, 
 supposing you one who, like the Christian, believes 
 miracles possible, whether these historic discrepancies 
 would justify you in saying that the New Testament 
 records, considered simply as history, no longer deserve 
 credit, and that you are left in absolute ignorance how 
 much of them, or whether any part, is to be received, — 
 ay or no ? " 
 
 " Well, then, I should say that Strauss has shown 
 that the history, as history^ is to be rejected." 
 
 " Very well ; only then do not be surprised that, in 
 virtue of such conclusions, I doubt whethei you ought 
 not to push the principle a little further, and contend 
 
320 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 that, as there are no writings in the world which seem 
 to bear more marks of historic sincerity and trustwor- 
 thiness, and certainly none of any magnitude or variety 
 in which far greater discrepancies are not to be found, 
 it is doubtful whether we can receive any thing as ab- 
 solutely veritable history ; and that the Book of Gen- 
 esis, and Gospel of Luke, and History of Lingard, and 
 History of Hume, are alike covered with a mist of 
 sceptical obscurity." 
 
 " But really, Mr. Harrington, this is absurd and pre- 
 posterous ! " 
 
 " It may be so ; but you ifiust prove it, and not sim- 
 ply content yourself with affirming it. I am, at all 
 events, more consistent than you, who tell the man who 
 does not see your a priori objection to the belief of 
 miracles, that a history which certainly contains as 
 many marks of historic veracity as any history in the 
 world, and discrepancies neither greater nor more nu- 
 merous, must be reduced (ninety-nine hundredths of 
 it) to myth on account of those discrepancies, while the 
 others may still legitimate their claims to be considered 
 as genuine history ! Your only escape, as I conceive, 
 from this dilemma, is, by saying that the marks of his- 
 toric truth in the New Testament, looked at as mere 
 history^ are not so great as those of other histories, or 
 that the discrepancies are greater; and I think even 
 you will not venture to assert that. But if you do, and 
 choose to put it on that issue, I shall be most happy to 
 try the criterion by examining Luke and Paul, Mat- 
 thew and Mark, on the one side ; and Clarendon and 
 May, or Hume, Lingard, and Macaulay, on the other; 
 or, if you prefer them, Livy and Polybius, or Tacitus 
 and Josephus." 
 
 " But I have bethought me of another answer," said 
 Robinson. " Suppose the sacred writers affirm that 
 
tflftTDllia CREDIBILITY.'" 321 
 
 every syllable they utter is infallibly true, being in- 
 spired ? " 
 
 " Why, then," said Harrington, " first, you must find 
 such a passage, which many say you cannot ; secondly, 
 you must find one which says that every syllable would 
 remain always infallibly true, in spite of all errors of 
 transcription and corruptions of time, otherwise your 
 discrepancies will not touch the writers ; and lastly, it 
 does not affect my argument wJiether you find any 
 such absurdities or not, since you and I would know 
 what to say, though the Christian would not like to 
 say it ; namely, that these writers were mistaken in the 
 notion of their plenary inspiration. It would still leave 
 the mass of their history to be dealt with like any other 
 history. Now I want to know why, if I reject the mass 
 of that on the ground of certain discrepancies, I must 
 not reject the mass of this on the score of equal or 
 greater." 
 
 After a few minutes Harrington turned to Fellowes 
 and said, — " That in relation to the bulk of mankind 
 there can be no authentic history of remote events 
 plainly appears from a statement of Mr. Newman. He 
 says, you know, after having relinquished the investi- 
 gation of the evidences of Christianity, that he might 
 have spared much weary thought and useless labor, if, 
 at an earlier time, this simple truth had been pressed 
 upon him, that since the * poor and half-educated can- 
 not investigate historical and xiterary questions, there- 
 fore these questions cannot constitute an essential part 
 of religion.' You, if you recollect, mentioned it to my 
 uncle the other night ; and, in spite of what he replied, 
 it does appear a weighty objection ; on the other hand, 
 if I admit it to be conclusive, I seem to be driven to 
 the most paradoxical conclusions, at direct variance 
 with the experience of all mankind, — at least so they 
 
322 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 say. Foi why cannot an historical fact constitute any 
 part of a religion ? " 
 
 " Because, as IVIr. Newman says, it is impossible that 
 the bulk of people can have any certainty in relation to 
 such remote facts of history," said Fellowcs. 
 
 " And, therefore, in relation to any other remote his- 
 tory ; for if the bulk of men cannot obtain certainty on 
 such historical questions, neither can they obtain cer- 
 tainty on other historical questions." 
 
 " Perhaps not ; but then what does it matter^ in that 
 case, whether they can obtain certainty or not ? " 
 
 "I am not talking — I am not thinking — as to 
 whether it would matter or not. I merely remark that, 
 in relation to the generality of people, at all events, 
 they cannot obtain certainty on any remote historical 
 questions. Of course, with regard to ordinary history, 
 it is neither a man's duty, strictly speaking, to believe 
 or disbelieve ; and therefore I said nothing about duty. 
 But in neither the one case nor the other is it possible 
 for the bulk of mankind to obtain satisfaction, from a 
 personal investigation, as to the facts of remote historj 
 or indeed any history at all, except of a man's own life 
 and that perhaps of his own family, up to his father 
 and down to his son I What do you say to this, — yes 
 or no ? " 
 
 " I do not know that I should object to say that the 
 great bulk of mankind never can obtain a sufficiently 
 certain knowledge of any fact of history to warrant- 
 their belief of it." 
 
 " Very consistent, I think ; for you doubtless per- 
 ceive that if we say they can obtain a reasonable ground 
 of assurance of the facts of remote history, — so that, if 
 any thing did or does depend on their believing it, they 
 are truly in possession of a warrant for acting on that 
 belief, — I say you then see whither our argument, Mr. 
 
HISTORIC CREDIBILITY. 323 
 
 Newman's and yoiir's and mine, is going; it vanishes, 
 — oixerai, as Socrates would say. If, for example, men 
 can attain reasonable certainty in relation to Alfred 
 and Cromwell, alas ! they may do the like in reference 
 to Christ ; and many persons will say much more ea- 
 sily. Now, with my too habitual scepticism, I confess 
 to a feeling of difficulty here. You know there are 
 thousands and tens of thousands amongst us, who, if 
 asked respecting the history of Alfred the Great or 
 Oliver Cromwell, would glibly repeat to you all the 
 principal facts of the story, — as they suppose; and if 
 you ask them whether they have ever investigated 
 critically the sources whence they had obtained their 
 knowledge, they will say. No ; but that they have read 
 the things in Hume's History ; or, perhaps, (save the 
 mark!) in Goldsmith's Abridgment! But they are pro- 
 foundly ignorant of even the names of the principal au- 
 thorities, and have never investigated one of the many 
 doubtful points which have perplexed historians ; nay, 
 as to most of them, are not even aware that they exist. 
 Yet nothing can be more certain, than that their sup- 
 posed knowledge would embrace by far the most im- 
 portant conclusions at which the most accurate histori- 
 ans have arrived. It would be principally in a supposed 
 juster comprehension of minor points — of details — 
 that the latter would have an advantage over them ; 
 compensated, however, by a * plentiful assortment ' of 
 doubts on other points, from which these simple souls 
 are free ; doubts which are the direct result of more ex- 
 tensive investigation, but which can scarcely be thought 
 additions to our knowledge; — they are rather addi- 
 tions to our ignorance. The impressions of the mass 
 of readers on all the main facts of the two memorable 
 periods respectively would be the same as those of more 
 accurate critics. Now what I want to know is, whether 
 
324 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 you would admit that these superficial inquirers — the 
 bulk of your decent countrymen, recollect — can be said 
 to have an intelligent belief in any such history ; whether 
 you think them justified in saying that they are certain 
 of the substantial accuracy of their impressions, and 
 that they may laugh in your face (which they assuredly 
 would do) if you told them that it is possible that Al- 
 fred may have existed, and been a wise and patriotic 
 prince ; and that probably Oliver Cromwell was Pro- 
 tector of England, and died in 1658 ; but that really 
 they know nothing about the matter." 
 
 " Of course they would affirm that they are as assured 
 of the substantial accuracy of their impressions as of 
 their own existence," replied Fellowes. 
 
 " But what answer do you think they ought to give, 
 my friend? Do you think that they can affirm a rea- 
 sonable ground of belief in these things ? " 
 
 " I confess I think they can." 
 
 " Ah ! then I fear you are grossly inconsistent with 
 Mr. Newman's principles, and must so far distrust his 
 argument against historic religion. If you think that 
 this ready assent to remote historic events may pass 
 for a reasonable conviction and an intelligent belief, I 
 cannot see why it should be more difficult to attain a 
 .similar confidence in the general results of a religious 
 I history ; and in that case it may also become men's duty 
 T^to act upon that belief. On the other hand, if it be not 
 possible to obtain this degree of satisfaction in the latter 
 case, neither for similar reasons will it be in the former. 
 If you hold Mr. Newman's principles consistently, seeing 
 that neither in the one case nor the other can the bulk 
 of mankind attain that sort of critical knowledge which 
 he supposes necessary to certainty, you ought to deny 
 that any common man has any business to say that he 
 believes that he is certain of the main facts in the his- 
 tory either of Alfred or Cromwell." 
 
A KNOTTY POINT. 325 
 
 " You do not surely mean to compare the impor- 
 tance of a belief in the one case with the importance 
 of a belief in the other ? " rejoined Fellowes. 
 
 " I do not; and can as little disguise from myself 
 that such a question has nothing to do with the matter. 
 The duty in the one case depends entirely on the nues- 
 tion whether such a conviction of the accuracy of the 
 main facts and more memorable events, as may pass 
 for moral certainty, and justify its language and acts, 
 be possible or not. If, from a want of capacity and 
 opportunity for a thorough investigation of all the con- 
 ditions of the problem, it be not in the one case, neither 
 will it be in the other. If this be a fallacy, be pleased 
 to prove it such, — I shall not be sorry to have it so 
 proved. But at present you seem to me grossly incon- 
 sistent in this matter. I have also my doubts (to speak 
 frankly) whether we must not apply Mr. Newman's 
 principle (to the great relief of mankind) in other most 
 momentous questions, in which the notion of duty can- 
 not be excluded, but enters as an essential element. I 
 cannot help fancying, that, if his principle be true, man- 
 kind ought to be much obliged to him ; for he has ex- 
 empted them from the necessity of acting in all the 
 most important affairs of life. For example, you are, 
 I know, a great political philanthropist; you plead for 
 the duty of enlightening the masses of the people on 
 political questions, — of making them intelligently ac- 
 quainted with the main points of political and econom- 
 ical science. You do not despair of all this ? " 
 
 " I certainly do not," said Fellowes. 
 
 " A most hopeless task," said Harrington, " on Mr. 
 •Newman's principle. The questions on which you 
 €eek to enlighten them are, many of them, of the most 
 intricate and difficult character, — are, all of them, de- 
 pendent on principles, and involve controversies, with 
 
 28 
 
326 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 which the great bulk of mankind are no more compe- 
 tent to deal than with Newton's *. Principia.' An easy, 
 and often erroneous assent, on ill-comprehended data, 
 is all that you can expect of the mass ; and how can it 
 be their duty, when it may often be their ruin, to act 
 upon this? A superficial knowledge is all that you 
 can give them ; thorough investigation is out of the 
 question. Most men, I fear, will continue to believe it 
 at least as possible for the common people to form a 
 judgment on the validity of Paley's ' Evidences,' as on 
 the reasonings of Smith's ' Political Economy.' They 
 will say, if the common people can be sufficiently sure 
 of their conclusions in the latter case to take action 
 upon them, — that is, to render action a duty, — the 
 like is possible in the former. Should you not hold by 
 your principle, and say, that, as from the difficulty of 
 the investigation it is not possible for the bulk of man- 
 kind to attain such a degree of certainty as to make 
 belief in an ' historical religion ' a duty, so neither, for 
 the like reason, can it be their duty to come to any 
 definite conclusion, or to take any definite action, in 
 relation to the equally difficult questions of politics, 
 legislation, political economy, and a variety of other 
 sciences ? I will take another case. I believe you will 
 not deny that you are profoundly ignorant of medicine, 
 nor that, though the most necessary, it is at the same 
 time the most difficult and uncertain of all the sciences. 
 You know that the great bulk of mankind are as ig- 
 norant as yourself ; nay, some affirm that physicians 
 themselves are about as ignorant as their patients; it 
 is certain that, in reference to many classes of disease, 
 doctors take the most opposite views of the appropriate 
 treatment, and even treat disease in general on princi- 
 ples diametrically opposed I A more miserable condi- 
 tion for an unhappy patient can hardly be imagined. 
 
A KNOTTY POINTi-'T 327 
 
 Though our own life, or that of our dearest friend in 
 the world, hangs in the balance, it is impossible for us 
 to tell whether the art of the doctor will save or kill. 1 
 doubt, therefore, whether you ought not to conclude, 
 from the principle on which we have already said so 
 much, that God cannot have made it a poor wretch's 
 duty to take any step whatever; nay, since even the 
 medical man himself often confesses that he does not 
 know whether the remedies he uses will do harm or 
 good, it may be a question whether he himself ought 
 not to relinquish his profession, at least if it be a duty 
 in man to act only in cases in which he can form some- 
 thing better than conjectures." 
 
 " Well," said Fellowes, laughing ; " and some e"^'en 
 in the profession itself say, that perhaps it might lu t 
 be amiss if the patient never called in such equivocal 
 aid, and allowed himself to die, not secundum artem^ but 
 secundum naturam.^'' 
 
 " And yet I fancy that, in the sudden illness of a wife 
 or child, you would send to the first medical man in 
 your street, or the next, though you might be ignorant 
 of his name, and he might be almost as ignorant of his 
 profession ; at least, that is what the generality of man- 
 kind would do." 
 
 " They certainly would." 
 
 " But yet, upon your principles, how can it be their 
 duty to act on such slender probabilities, or, rathei, 
 mere conjectures, in cases so infinitely important ? " 
 
 " I know not how that may be, but it is assuredly 
 necessai'y,'''' 
 
 " Well, then, shall we say it is only necessary^ but not 
 a duty ? But then, if in a case of such importance God 
 has made it thus necessary for man to act in such igno- 
 rance, people will say he may possibly have left them 
 in something less than absolute certainty in the matter 
 
328 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 of ain * .istorical religion.' — Aii ! it is impossible to un- 
 ravel these difficulties. I only knpw, that, if the princi- 
 ple be true, then as men in general cannot form any rea- 
 sonable judgment, not only on the principles of medical 
 science, but even on the knowledge and skill of any 
 particular professor of it, (by their ludicrous mis-esti- 
 mate of which they are daily duped both of money and 
 life to an enormous extent,) it cannot be their duty to 
 take any steps in this matter at all. The fair applica- 
 tion, therefore, of the principle in question would, as I 
 say, save mankind a great deal of trouble ; — but, alas ! 
 it involves us philosophers in a great deal." 
 
 " I cannot help thinking," said Fellowes, " that you 
 have caricatured the principle." And he appealed 
 to me. 
 
 "However ludicrous the results," said I, "of Har- 
 rington's argument, I do not think that his representa- 
 tion, if the principle is to be fairly carried out, is any 
 caricature at all. The absurdity, if anywhere, is in 
 the principle affirmed ; viz. that God cannot have con- 
 stituted it man's duty to act^ in cases of very imperfect 
 knowledge, and yet we see that he has perpetually 
 compelled him to do so ; nay, often in a condition next 
 door to stark ignorance. To vindicate the wisdom of 
 such a constitution may be impossible ; but the fact 
 cannot be denied. The Christian admits the difficulty 
 alike in relation to religion and to the affairs of this 
 world. He believes, with Butler, that * probability is 
 the guide of life ' ; — that man may have sufficient evi- 
 dence, in a thousand cases, — varying, however, in dif- 
 ferent individuals, — to warrant his action, and a rea- 
 sonable confidence in the results, though that evidence 
 is very far removed from certitude; — that similarly the 
 mass of men are justified in saying that they know a 
 ^^housand facts of history to be true, though they never 
 
A KNOTTY POINT. 329 
 
 had the opportunity, or capacity, of thoroughly investi- 
 gating them, and that the great facts of science are true, 
 though they may know no more of science than of the 
 geology of the moon ; — that the statesman, the lawyer, 
 and the physician are justified in acting, where they yet 
 are compelled to acknowledge that they act only on 
 most unsatisfactory calculations of probabilities, and 
 amidst a thousand doubts and difficulties ; — that you^ 
 Mr. F3llowes, are justified in endeavoring to enlighten 
 the common people on many important subjects con- 
 nected with political and social science, in which it is 
 yet quite certain that not one in a hundred thousand 
 can ever go to the bottom of them ; of which very few 
 can do more than attain a rough and crude notion, and 
 in which the bulk must act solely because they are 
 persuaded that other men know more about the mat- 
 ters in question than themselves ; — all which, say we 
 Christians, is true in relation to the Christian religion, 
 the evidence for which is plainer, after all, than that on 
 which man in ten thousand cases is necessitated to 
 hazard his fortune or his life. If you follow out Mr. 
 Newman's principle, I think you must with Harrington 
 liberate mankind from the necessity of acting altogether 
 in all the most important relations of human life. If it 
 be thought not only hard that men should be called 
 perpetually to act on defective, grossly defective evi- 
 dence, but still harder that they should possess varying 
 degrees even of that evidence, it may be said that th<j 
 difference perhaps is rather apparent than real. Thosi*. 
 whom we call profoundly versed in the more difficult 
 matters which depend on moral evidence, are virtually 
 in the same condition as their humbler neighbors ; they 
 are profound only by comparison with the superficiality 
 of these last. "Where men must act, the decisive facts, 
 as was said in relation to history, may be pretty equally 
 
330 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 grasped by all ; and as for the rest, the enlargement of 
 the circle of a man's knowledge is, in a still greater 
 proportion, the enlargement of the circle of his igno- 
 rance; for the circumscribing periphery lies in darkness. 
 Doubts, in proportion to the advance of knowledge, 
 spring up where they were before unknown ; and though 
 the previous ignorance of these was not knowledge, the 
 knowledge of them (as Harrington has said) is little 
 better than an increase of our ignorance." 
 
 " If, as you suppose, it cannot be our duty to act in 
 reference to any ' historical religion ' because a satisfac- 
 tory investigation is impossible to the mass of mankind, 
 the argument may be retorted on your own theory. 
 You assert, indeed, that in relation to religion we have 
 an internal ' spiritual faculty ' which evades this diffi- 
 culty; yet men persist in saying, in spite of you, that 
 it is doubtful, — 1st, whether they have any such ; 2d, 
 whether, if there be one, it be not so debauched and 
 sophisticated by other faculties, that they can no longer 
 trust it implicitly ; od^ what is the amount of its gen- 
 uine utterances ; 4th, what that of its aberrations ; 5th, 
 whether it is not so dependent on development, educa- 
 tion, and association, as to leave room enough for an 
 auxiliary external revelation ; — on all which questions 
 the generality of mankind are just as incapable of de- 
 ciding, as about any historical question whatever." 
 
 Here Fellowes was called out of the room. Har- 
 rington, who had been glancing at the newspaper, ex- 
 claimed, — '' Talk about the conditions on which man is 
 left to act indeed ! Only think of his gtH5ss ignorance 
 and folly being left a prey to such quack advertisements 
 as half fill this column. Here empirics every day al- 
 most invite men to be immortal for the small charge of 
 half a crown. Here is a panacea for nearly every dis- 
 ease unier heave i, in the shape of some divine elixir, 
 
MEDICAL ANALOGIES. 331 
 
 and, what is more, we know that thousands are gulled 
 by it. How satisfactory is that condition of the human 
 intellect in which quack promises can be proffered with 
 any plausible chance of success I " 
 
 I told him I thought the science of medicine would 
 yield an argument against religious sceptics which they 
 would find it very difficult to reply to. 
 
 " How so ? " 
 
 " Ah ! it is well masked ; but I know you too well to 
 allow me to doubt that you suspect what I am refer- 
 ring to." 
 
 " Upon my word, I am all in the dark." 
 
 " Is there not," said I, " a close analogy between 
 the condition of men in reference to the health of their 
 bodies and the science by which they hope to conserve 
 or restore it, and the health of their souls and the sci- 
 ence by which they hope to conserve or restore that ? 
 Has not God placed them in precisely the same diffi- 
 culty and perplexity in both cases, — nay, as I think, in 
 greater in relation to medicine, — and yet is not man 
 most willing and eager to apply to its most problematic 
 aid, imparted even by the most ignorant practitioners, 
 rather than be without it altogether? The possession 
 which man holds most valuable in this world, and most 
 men, alas ! more valuable than aught in any other 
 world, — LIFE itself, — is at stake ; it is subjected to a 
 science, or rather an art, proverbially difficult in theory 
 and uncertain in practice, about which there have been 
 ten thousand varieties of opinion, — whimsically cor- 
 responding to the diversity of sect, creed, and priest- 
 hood, on which sceptics like you lay so much stress ; 
 in which even the wisest and most cautious practition- 
 ers confess that their art is at best only a species of 
 guessing; while the patient can no more judge of the 
 remedies he con»;?nts, with so much faith, to swallow 
 
332 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 on the knowledge of him who prescribes them, than he 
 can of the perturbations of Jupiter's satellites. Yet the 
 moment he is sick, away he goes to this dubious oracle, 
 and trusts it with a most instructive faith and docility, 
 as if it were infallible. All his doubts are mastered in 
 an instant. I strongly suspect yours would be. Ought 
 vou not in consistency to refuse to act at all in such 
 deplorable deficiency of evidence ? " 
 
 " Well," said he, " consistent or inconsistent, it must 
 be admitted that the parallel is very complete, — and 
 amusing." And he then went on, as he was apt to do, 
 when an analogy struck his fancy. " Let me see, — yes, 
 our unlucky race is condemned to put its most valued 
 possession on the hazard of a wise choice, without any 
 of the essential qualifications for wisely making it; a 
 man cannot at all tell whether his particular priest in 
 medicine understands and can skilfully apply even his 
 own theory. Yes," he went on, " and I think (as you 
 say) we might find, not only in the partisans of differ- 
 ent systems of physic, the representatives of the various 
 priesthoods, but in their too credulous — or shall we 
 say, too faithful patients ? — the representatives of all 
 sects. There is, for example, the superstitious vulgar 
 in medicine, — the gross worshipper of the Fetish, who 
 believes in the efRcacy of charm, and spell, and incan- 
 tation, of mere ceremonial and opus operatum; then 
 there is the polytheist, who will adore any thing in the 
 shape of a drug^ and who is continually quacking him- 
 self with some nostrum or other from morning to night ; 
 who not only takes his regular physician's prescriptions, 
 but has his household gods of empirical remedies, to 
 which he applies with equal devotion. Then there is 
 the Romanist in medicine, who swears by the infalli- 
 bility of some papal Abernethy, and the unfailing effi- 
 cacy of some viaticum of a blue pill." 
 
MEDICAL ANALOGIES. 333 
 
 " And who," said I, " would represent our friend who 
 has just left the room, and who has tried every thing? " 
 
 " Why," he replied, " I think he is in the condition of 
 a little boy of whom I heard a little while ago, whose 
 mother was a homoeopathist, and kept a little chest, 
 from which she dispensed to her family and friends, 
 perhaps as skilfully as the doctor himself could have 
 done. The little fellow, going into her dressing-room, 
 opened this box, and, thinking that he had fallen on a 
 store of * millions' (as children call them), swallowed 
 up his mother's whole doctor's shop before he could be 
 stopped. It was happy, said the doctor, when called 
 in, that the little patient had swallowed so many^ or he 
 would have been infallibly killed. Or perhaps we may 
 liken our friend to that humorous traveller, Mr. Stephens, 
 who tells us, that, having been provided at Cairo, by a 
 skilful physician there, with a number of remedies for 
 some serious complaint to which he was subject, found, 
 to his dismay, when suffering under a severe paroxysm 
 in the fortress of Akaba, that he had lost the directions 
 which told him in what order the medicines were to be 
 taken. Whether pill, powder, or draught was to come 
 first, he knew not : * on which,' says he, * in a fit of des- 
 peration, I placed them all in a row before me, and 
 resolved to swallow them all seriatim till I obtained 
 relief.' George has equal faith." 
 
 " You have omitted," said I, " on^ character, — that 
 of the sceptic, who believes in no medicine at all ; 
 who sturdily dies with his doubts unresolved, and un- 
 attended by any physician. But it must be confessed 
 that he is a still rarer character than the sceptic in 
 religion. Nature, my dear Harrington, everywhere de- 
 cides against you." 
 
 " I acknowledge," he said, " that we are but a scanty 
 flock in any department of life ; but, upon my word, the 
 parallel you have suggested is so striking, that I think 
 
334 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 I must; in consistency, extend my scepticism to physic 
 at least; and, if I am ill, refrain from availing myself of 
 so uncertain an art, practised by such uncertain hands, 
 and which are to be selected by one who cannot even 
 guess whether they are ignorant or skilful ; — doctors, 
 who may perhaps, as Voltaire said, put drugs of which 
 they know nothing into bodies of which they know still 
 less:' 
 
 " Act upon that resolution, Harrington," said I, " and 
 you will at least be consistent : but, depend upon it, 
 nature will confute you." 
 
 " Why," said he, jestingly, " perhaps in the case of 
 medicine, at all events, I might face the consequences 
 of scepticism. I remember reading, in some account of 
 Madagascar, that the natives are absolutely without 
 the healing art ; * and yet,' says the author, with grave 
 surprise, * it is not observed that the number of deaths 
 is increased.' Perhaps, thought I, that is the cause of 
 it." 
 
 " The statistics," I replied, " of more civilized coun- 
 tries amply refute you, and show you that, uncertain as 
 is the evidence on which God has destined and com- 
 pelled men to act in this, the most important affair of 
 the present life, and absolute as is the faith they are 
 summoned to exercise, neither is the study of the art 
 (uncertain as it is in itself), nor the dependence of pa- 
 tients upon it (still more precarious as that is), unjus- 
 tified on the whole by the result ; and as to the abuses 
 of downright quackery, a little prudence and common 
 sense are required, and are sufficient to preserve men 
 from them." 
 
 He mused, and, I thought, seemed struck by this 
 analogy between man's temporal and spiritual condi 
 tion I said no more, hoping that he would ponder it. 
 
HISTORIC CRITICISM. 835 
 
 July 25. I had been so much interested in the dis- 
 cussion between Harrington and young Robinson on 
 the fair application of the principle of Strauss to his- 
 tory in general, that I could not resis^t the temptation 
 to tell the youth, in secret, that I thought the matter 
 would admit of further discussion, and that he would 
 do well to challenge Harrington plausibly to show that 
 some undoubted modern event might, when it became 
 remote history, be rendered dubious to posterity. He 
 willingly acted on the hint the next morning. To some 
 remark of his, Harrington replied thus : — 
 
 " Assuming with you, that Strauss has really cast 
 suspicion on the historic character of the bulk of the 
 transactions recorded in the New Testament, I must 
 suspect that there is not an event in history, if at all 
 remote, which, arguing exactly on the same principles, 
 may not be made doubtful ; and that is " 
 
 " Why, now," replied the other, " do you think it 
 possible that the events of the present year " (referring 
 to the Papal Aggression), "which are making such a 
 prodigious noise in England, will ever stand a chance 
 of being similarly treated some centuries hence ? " 
 
 " If they are ever treated at all," said Harrington ; 
 " but you must have observed that it is the tendency of 
 man to make ridiculous mis-estimates of the impor- 
 tance of the transactions of his own age, and to imag- 
 ine that posterity will have nothing to do but to recount 
 them. He is much mistaken ; they forget or care not a 
 doit for nine tenths of what he does ; and misrej^resent 
 the tenth," continued he, laughing. 
 
 " Well, then, upon the supposition that Pio Nono 
 and Cardinal Wiseman are of sufficient importance to 
 be remembered at all eighteen hundred and fifty years 
 hence, that is, in the year 3700 of the Christian era, — 
 though in all probability some new and more rational 
 
336 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 epoch will have jostled out both the Christian eia and 
 the Mahometan hegira by that time " 
 
 " Pray be sure," interrupted I, " before you predict a 
 new epoch, that it will be wanted ; that Christianity is 
 , eally dead before you bury her. You will please to 
 remember that the experiment was tried in France with 
 much formality, but somehow came to a speedy and 
 ignominious conclusion ; the new era did not survive its 
 infancy. As Paulus thinks that Christ was only in a 
 trance when he seemed to be dead, so it certainly often 
 is (figuratively speaking) with his religion : it seems to 
 be dead when it is only in a trance. It is apt to rise 
 again, and be more active than ever ; and never more 
 so than when, as in the middle of the last century, our 
 infidel undertakers were providing for its funeral. But 
 I beg your pardon for interrupting your conversation ; 
 you were saying " 
 
 " I was saying," said Robinson, " that I doubt wheth- 
 er Cardinal Wiseman and his doings, eighteen hun- 
 dred and fifty years hence, could be as much the subject 
 of doubt and controversy (if remembered at all) as the 
 events which Strauss has shown to be unhistorical. I 
 think the press alone, with its diffusion and multiplica- 
 tion of the sources of knowledge, will alone prevent 
 in the future the doubts which gather over the past. 
 There will never again be the same dearth of historic 
 materials." 
 
 " In spite of all that," replied Harrington, " I suspect 
 it will be very possible for men to entertain the same 
 doubts about many events of our time, eighteen hun- 
 dred and fifty years hence, as they entertain of many 
 which happened eighteen hundred and fifty years ago." 
 
 " I can hardly imagine this to be possible." 
 
 " Because, I apprehend, first, that you are laboring 
 under the delusion already mentioned, by which mea 
 
HISTORIC CRITICISM. 337 
 
 ever magnify the importance of the events of their own 
 age, and forget how readily future generations will let 
 them slip from their memory, and let documents which 
 contain the record of them slip out of existence ; and, 
 secondly, because you do not give yourself time to 
 realize all that is implied in supposing eighteen hun- 
 dred years to have elapsed, nor to transport yourself 
 fairly into that distant age. As to the first ; — let us 
 recollect that the importance of historic events is by no 
 means in proportion to the excitement they produce at 
 the time of their occurrence. We have many exem- 
 plifications of this even in our own time ; see the rapid- 
 ity with which every trace of a political storm, which 
 foi a moment may have lashed the whole nation into 
 fury, is appeased again : the surface is as smooth after 
 a few short years as if it had never been ruffled at all ! 
 In all such cases, the constant tendency is to let the 
 events which have been thus transient in their effects 
 sink into oblivion. But even of those which have been 
 far more significant, (since each future age will teem 
 with fresh events equally significant, all claiming a part 
 in the page of general history,) the importance will be 
 perpetually diminishing in estimate, and still more in 
 interest, from the intenser feeling with which each age 
 will in turn regard the events which stand in immediate 
 prox'imity to its own. As time rolls on, all of the past 
 that can be spared will be gradually jostled out. De- 
 tails will be lost ; and then, when remote ages turn to 
 reinvestigate the half-forgotten past, the want of those 
 details will issue in the customary problems and < his- 
 toric doubts.' In the page of general history, events of 
 a remote age, except those of a surpassing interest, 
 will be reduced to more and more meagre outlines, till 
 abridgments are abridged, and even these compendi- 
 ums thought tedious. The interval between decade and 
 
 29 
 
338 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 decade now will be as much as that between century 
 and century then. History will have to employ a sort 
 of Bramah press in her compositions, and its applica 
 tion will compress into mere films the loose and pulpy 
 textures submitted to it by each age. Let human van- 
 ity think what it will, many events and many names 
 which seem imperishable will speedily die out of re- 
 membrance; many lights in the firmament, destined 
 (as we deem) to shine ' like the stars for ever and ever,' 
 will hereafter be missing from the catalogue of the his- 
 toric astronomer." 
 
 " But, at all events," said the other, " though there 
 are thousands of facts which will be virtually forgotten, 
 it will be at all times easy to ascertain (if a sufficiently 
 strong motive exist) the real character of past events 
 by a reference to the documents preserved by the press. 
 The press, — the press it is which will preserve us from 
 the doubts of the past." 
 
 " I doubt that. Has there been any lack of historic 
 controversy respecting a thousand facts which have 
 transpired since the press was in full activity? You 
 forget, that, in the first place, neither the press, nor any 
 thing else, can preserve any original documents. Time 
 will not be inactive in the future more than in the past ; 
 it will have no more respect for printed books than for 
 manuscripts. An immense mass of print is every year 
 silently perishing by mere decay. The original docu- 
 ments to which you refer will, eighteen hundred years 
 hence; have almost all perished ; few will be preserved 
 except in copies, and how many disputes that alone will 
 cause, it is hard to say; but we may form some guess 
 from the experience of the past. Of thousands of these 
 documents, again, no importance having been attached 
 to them, and no one having imagined that any impor- 
 tance would ever be attached to them, no copies will 
 
HISTORIC CRITICISM. 339 
 
 have been taken, and there will be here again the usual 
 field for conjectures. This is a common trick of time ; 
 — silently destroying what a present age thinks may 
 as well be left to his maw. It is not even discovered 
 that valuable documents are lost, till something turns 
 up to make mankind wish they may be found. But 
 neither is this the sole nor the chief source of future 
 historic doubts. Do not flatter yourself too much on 
 the wonders which the press can work, amongst which 
 one unquestionably is, that it will bury at least as much 
 as it will preserve. Several considerations will suffice 
 to show that here, too, we labor under a delusion. Ob- 
 livion will practically cover many events, owing to the 
 mere accumulations of the press itself. You talk of the 
 ease of consulting ' original documents ^ ; but when 
 they lie buried in the depths of national museums, 
 amidst mountain loads of forgotten and decaying liter- 
 ature, it will not be so easy^ even supposing the present 
 activity of the press only maintained for eighteen hun- 
 dred and fifty years (although, in all probability, it will 
 proceed at a rapidly increased ratio), — I say it will not 
 be so easy to lay your hands on what you want. The 
 materials, again, will often exist by that time in dead 
 or half-obsolete languages, or at least in languages full 
 of archaic forms. It will be almost as difficult to un- 
 earth and collate the documents which bear upon any 
 events less than the most momentous, as to recover the 
 memorials of Egypt from the pyramids, or of ancient 
 Assyria from the mounds of Nineveh. The historian 
 of a remote period must be a sort of Belzoni or Layard 
 If we can suppose any thing so extravagant as that the 
 British Museum will be in existence then, having pre- 
 served during these centuries (as it does now) all new 
 books, and accumulated ancient and foreign literature 
 only at the rate it has during these few years past, the 
 
340 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 library alone will extend over hundreds of acres at least'. 
 This, unle.ss our posterity are fools, can hardly be the 
 case ; and therefore much will be rejected and left to 
 the mercy of the great destroyer. But the very exist- 
 ence of any such repository is itself a very doubtful 
 supposition. Comprehensive, indeed, may be the de- 
 struction of many large portions of our archives, essen- 
 tially necessary to minute accuracy at so distant a 
 date; nay, England herself may have ceased to exist. 
 If her subterranean fuel be not exhausted, a cheaper 
 and equally abundant supply of it may have been found 
 elsewhere, and transfer for ever the chief elements of 
 her manufacturing or commercial prosperity ; or entire- 
 ly new and more transcendent sources of science may 
 have done the same thing, and our country may be left, 
 like a stranded vessel, to rot upon the beach! Her 
 furnaces extinguished, her manufactories deserted, her 
 cities decayed, the hum of her busy population silenced, 
 she may present a spectacle of desolation like that of so 
 many other famous nations which have risen, culmi- 
 nated, and set for ever." 
 
 " Or," interrupted I, " (and may God avert the 
 omen !) the same ruin may be accomplished still ear- 
 lier, and by more potent causes. Her nobles enervated 
 by luxury, her lower classes sunk in vice and ignorance, 
 and both the one and the other decaying in piety and 
 religion (a sure result of neglecting that Bible which 
 has directly and indirectly formed her strength), she 
 may have fallen a victim to the consequences of her 
 own degeneracy, or to an irresistible combination of the 
 enemies who envy and hate her. That picture of the 
 splendid imagination of the great historian of our day 
 may be realized, ^ when some traveller from New Zea- 
 land shall, in the midst of a vast solitude, take his stand 
 on a broken arch of London Bridge to sketch the ruins 
 of St. Paul's-^ " 
 
HISTORIC criticism;-' 341 
 
 " In short," resumed Harrington, " in seveial ways 
 that appalling catastrophe may have taken place ; and, 
 should this be the case, how many questions will be 
 asked of history, but asked in vain ! As for Rome, — 
 that other great name in the present strife pitted against 
 England, — for aught we can tell, she may by that time 
 be in desolation far more remediless than when the 
 grim Attilas and Alarics stormed her walls. For aught 
 we know, the agency of those terrible elements which 
 more or less mine the soil of Italy may have made her 
 'like unto' Herculaneum or Pompeii; or that silent 
 desolater, the malaria, which Dr. Arnold thinks will be 
 perpetual and will increase, may long before that period 
 have reduced, not only the Campagna of Rome, but the 
 whole region of the ' seven hills,' to a pestilential soli- 
 tude." 
 
 " But all this is mere vision ? " said Robinson. 
 
 " Certainly ; but it is the vision of the possible. Simi- 
 larly wonderful and equally unexpected revolutions have 
 taken place in the history of past nations and empires 
 in a less space of time ; and some enormous changes, 
 we know, must happen during the next eighteen hun- 
 dred and fifty years ; and they will tend both to jostle 
 out thousands of events of meaner moment, and to 
 effect a comparative destruction of the memorials of the 
 past. You do not suppose, I presume, that London 
 and Rome are absolutely privileged from the fate which 
 has overtaken Babylon and Memphis. I, for one, there- 
 fore, do not expect that the time will arrive when, in 
 the historic investigations of the past, our Strausses 
 will not find abundant scope for ingenious theories; 
 nay, many real sources of perplexity even in reference 
 to events which, at the time of their occurrence, seemed 
 written as ' with a pen of iron on the rock for ever.' 
 But even supposing no other difficulty, I cannot lay 
 ad" 
 
343^ 
 
 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 small stress upon the mere accumulation of materials 
 on which the historian, two thousand years hence, will 
 have to operate, if he would recover an exact account 
 of the events of our time. It is much the same whether 
 you have to dig into the pyramids of Egypt, or into the 
 catacombs of the buried literature of two thousand 
 years, for the memorials which are to enable you to 
 arrive at the exact truth, at least as to any events of 
 transient interest, however important at the time of 
 their occurrence. It will be like * hunting for a needle 
 in a bundle of hay,' as the proverb says." 
 
 " Still, I cannot imagine that facts like those with 
 which our ears have been ringing during the last eight 
 months, can ever be contested." 
 
 " Can you not ? " said Harrington. " I cannot imagine 
 any thing more likely than that, eighteen hundred and 
 fifty years hence, such an event, on Strauss's principles, 
 may be shown to be very problematical." 
 
 " Will you endeavor to show how it may probably 
 be?" rejoined Robinson. 
 
 " Well, I have no objection, if you will give me till 
 this evening to prepare so important a document." 
 
 In the evening, after supper, he amused us by read- 
 ing us a brief paper, entitled 
 
 The Papal Aggression shown to be Impossible. 
 
 " I shall proceed on the supposition that some Dr. 
 Dickkopf or Dr. Scharfsinn, for either name will do, has 
 to deal (as my uncle here believes our modern critics 
 have to deal in the Gospels) with an account literally 
 true. This learned man I shall imagine as existing in 
 some nation at the antipodes eighteen hundred and fifty 
 years hence, and intellectually, if not literally, descended 
 from some erudite critics of our age. Let me further 
 
PAPAL AGGRESSION IMPOSSIBLE. 343; 
 
 suppose that the principal memorials of the current 
 events are found in the page of some continuator of 
 Macaulay (may the Fatts have pity on him! I am 
 afraid he will be far worse than even Smollett after 
 Hume), who publishes his work only sixty years hence. 
 Let us suppose him (as surely we well may) proceeding 
 thus : ' During the year 1850 - 51, our countrymen are 
 represented to us, by the accounts of those who lived at 
 the time (some few still survive), as having been in a 
 condition of political and religious excitement almost 
 unprecedented in their history. It was occasioned by 
 the attempt of the Pope to reestablish the Roman 
 Catholic hierarchy, which had been extinct since the 
 Reformation. As these events, though all-absorbing to 
 the actors in them, (as are so many others of very 
 secondary importance,) have now shrunk to their true 
 dimensions, and are, in fact, infinitely less momentous 
 than others which were silently transpiring at the time 
 almost without notice, I shall content myself with 
 simply condensing a brief contemporaneous document 
 which gives the chief points, without passion or preju- 
 dice, in a narrative so simple that it vouches for its own 
 veracity : — 
 
 "* Without permission of the Crown, or any nego- 
 tiations with the Government whatever. Pope Pius the 
 Ninth divided the whole of England into twelve sees, 
 and assigned these to as many Roman Catholic bishops 
 with local titles and territorial jurisdiction. The chief 
 of them was one Nicholas Wiseman (by birth, it is 
 said, a Spaniard), who was created Archbishop of 
 Westminster and Cardinal. 
 
 " ' The said Wiseman issued a pastoral letter, which 
 was read on the 27th day of October, 1850, in all the 
 churches and chapels of the Romanists, congratulating 
 Catholic England on the reestablishment of the Roman 
 
344 •" THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 hierarchy. In it he used the startling expression, " Our 
 beloved country has been restored to its orbit in the 
 ecclesiastical firmament, from which its light had long 
 vanished." 
 
 " * The nation was the more surprised at all this, inas- 
 much as the position of Pio Nono was not such as to 
 warrant any expectation of a step so audacious. Little 
 more than a year had elapsed since his own subjects in 
 Rome itself rebelled against him, murdered his Prime 
 IVIinister, and compelled him, in the disguise of a me- 
 nial, to fly from Rome ; nor was he restored except by 
 the arms of the French, who besieged and took Rome 
 in 1849. 
 
 " ' That the Pope, while holding his o^n little domin- 
 ions on so precarious a tenure, should venture to assume 
 such an exercise of supremacy over the most powerful 
 nation in the world, — a nation so jealous of its inde- 
 pendence, which had so long been, and which still was, 
 most averse to his claims, — seemed almost incredible to 
 the people of England ; and they were proportionably 
 indignant. 
 
 " ' Some affirmed that the aforesaid Cardinal Wiseman 
 was the chief cause of it all, — the spectacle of many 
 conversions from the Church of England to that of 
 Rome having deceived him into a notion that the na- 
 tional mind was far more generally disposed to receive 
 Romanism, and to make up the long-standing breach 
 with the Papacy, than was really the case. The princi- 
 pal cause of the conversions above mentioned was what 
 was called the " Oxford Movement." In the Univer- 
 sity of Oxford had sprung up a body of men who had 
 consecrated their lives to the diff'usion of doctrines in- 
 definitely near those of Rome. They spoke of the 
 Reformation contemptuously ; advocated very* many 
 obsolete rites and usages ; magnified the power of the 
 
PAPAL AGGRESSION IMPOSSIBLE. 345 
 
 Church and the prerogatives of the priesthood. Many 
 of them, at length, finding that they could not, with 
 any shadow of consistency, remain in the English 
 Church, abandoned it ; but many others remained, and 
 propagated the same opinions with impunity. They 
 were regarded as traitors by their brethren, though no 
 steps were taken to prevent them from teaching their 
 notions, nor to deprive them of their benefices and 
 emoluments. Among those who gave up their livings, 
 of their own accord, from the feeling that they could 
 not hold them with a safe conscience, the principal was 
 one afterwards called Father Newman. 
 
 " ' Now this Newman must by no means be con- 
 founded with another of the same name. Professor 
 Newman, — in fact his own brother, — who was also 
 educated at Oxford, but whose history was in most 
 singular contrast with his. While the one brother went 
 over to Rome, exceeded in zeal and credulity even the 
 Romanists themselves, and sighed for a restoration of 
 mediseval puerilities, the other lapsed into downright 
 infidelity, and denied even the possibility of an external 
 revelation. 
 
 " < Very many thought, that, if the Oxford party had 
 been wise enough to proceed more gently in the propa- 
 gation of their notions, they would have accomplished 
 much greater things, and perhaps eventually brought 
 the popular mind to embrace the Romish Church. But 
 their later publications (and especially No. 90) opened 
 the eyes of many, and the frequent defections from the 
 English Church, which were almost daily announced in 
 the papers, opened the eyes of many more. 
 
 " ' But whether or not Wiseman and other principal 
 persons were misled by erroneous representations of 
 the state of the English mind, certain it is that he ad- 
 vised the Pope to take this perilous step. The Pope 
 
346 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 was persuaded ; he assured the people of England, that 
 he should not cease to supplicate the Virgin Mary and 
 all the saints whose virtues had made this country il- 
 lustrious, that they would deign to obtain, by their in- 
 tercessions with God, a happy issue to his enterprise. 
 
 " * The excitement produced by the publication of the 
 Pope's proceedings throughout England was prodig- 
 ious, and can hardly be conceived by us at this day. 
 Every county, city, and almost every town, held meet- 
 ings in the utmost alarm and indignation ; and resolved 
 on petitioning the Queen and Parliament to do some- 
 thing or other to prevent the Pope's measures from tak- 
 ing effect; and especially to annul all claims to local 
 and territorial jurisdiction in this country. The uni- 
 versities ; the clergy in their dioceses ; the Bishops col- 
 lectively, — even Philpotts of Exeter, though intoxicated 
 with zeal for those Oxford notions which had done all 
 the mischief; the municipalities; almost all organized 
 bodies, whether of Churchmen or Dissenters ; — dis- 
 cussed and resolved. Amongst these meetings one was 
 held at the Guildhall of London, which was crowded 
 with the merchant princes of that great city, and all 
 that could represent its wealth, intelligence, and energy. 
 One Masterman opened the proceedings, made a ve- 
 hement speech against the Bishop of Rome and his 
 pretensions, and proposed a stringent resolution, which 
 was carried by acclamation. 
 
 " ' At a dinner given by the Lord Mayor, at which 
 were present many of the Ministers of the Crown, the 
 Lord Chancellor Wilde spoke very boldly, and, as some 
 thought, unadvisedly, on his possible /^^/wre relations to 
 ^he Cardinal. 
 
 " * Cardinal Wiseman publisfied a subtle defence of 
 himself and the Popish measure, which he addressed 
 to the people of England; and, whether consistently 
 
PAPAL AGGRESSION IMPOSSIBLE. 347 
 
 or inconsistently, pleaded in the most strenuous man- 
 ner for the inviolable observance of the principles of 
 " religious liberty.'^ 
 
 " ' A singular and indeed inexplicaole circumstance 
 occurred in the course of this controversy. In a lec- 
 ture, delivered at the Hanover Square Rooms, a cer- 
 tain Presbyterian clergyman had asserted that the oath 
 prescribed in the Pontificale Romanum, which the Car- 
 dinal Wiseman must have taken to the Pope when he 
 received the Pallium as Archbishop of Westminster, 
 notoriously contained a clause enjoining the duty of 
 persecution. This clause, a facetious Englishman said, 
 ought to be translated, " I will persecute and pitch into 
 all heretics to the utmost of my power " ; and every one 
 knew that the Pope of Rome looked upon the English 
 as the greatest heretics in the world. 
 
 " ' When Wiseman heard of the representations thus 
 made, he caused his secretary to write to the Protestant 
 lecturer, to say that the clause in the oath to which 
 he had referred was not insisted upon, in his (the Car- 
 dinal's) case, by the Pope, and that, if his calumniator 
 chose to go to the Cardinal's library, he would see that 
 it was cancelled in his copy of the Pontifical. The 
 Protestant accepted his challenge, and went to the said 
 library. He was then shown the oath, and found the 
 clause in question, totidem verbis ; not cancelled, how- 
 ever, but marked off by a line in black ink drawn over 
 it, and (as it seemed) very recently 
 
 " ' Pamphlets were published on this curious circum- 
 stance on both sides ; the Roman Catholics contended 
 that the mere fact of Wiseman's challenge was a suf- 
 ficient proof of his consciousness of rectitude. 
 
 " * On the whole, after half a year of perpetual agita- 
 tion, both in and out of Parliament, a measure was 
 passed which was notoriously inadequate to suppress 
 the offence, and which was broken with impunity. 
 
348 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 " *-It is gratifying to add, that, notwithstanding the 
 dangerous and vehement excitement which so long in- 
 flamed the minds of the people, no life was lost except 
 on one occasion. The sufferer — contrary to what 
 might have been expected — was of the dominant party ; 
 a policeman, who was endeavoring to repress the party 
 violence of some Irish Catholics in the North of Eng- 
 land.' " 
 
 " Now it need not be said," proceeded Harrington, 
 " that these sentences contain what is perfectly well 
 known by you — for myself I say nothing — to be the 
 merest matter of fact, narrated in the simplest language, 
 without any art or embellishment. Would you like 
 to hear how Dr. Dickkopf, of New Zealand, or Kam- 
 tschatka, or Caffre-land, might treat such a document 
 eighteen hundred and fifty years hence, amidst that im- 
 perfect light which we well know rests upon so many 
 portions of the past, and which may, very possibly, be 
 felt in the future ? I think it would not be difficult 
 for him to show that the * Papal Aggression ' was im' 
 possible^ 
 
 " We will, at least, listen to you," said Robinson. 
 
 " Let us suppose, then, some learned Theban stum- 
 bling upon this brief record of an obscure event, and, as 
 usual, making (if only because he had discovered what 
 nobody in the world either knew or cared about) a huge 
 commentary upon it ; concluding from the internal evi- 
 dence, the simplicity of the style, the absence of all 
 imaginable motives for misrepresentation, and some 
 external corroborative fragments painfully gleaned from 
 the history of the period, that these sentences formed a 
 genuine, literal, historic account of certain events which 
 transpired in England in the year 1850. This, of 
 
PAPAL AGGRESSION IMPOSSIBLE. 349 
 
 course, would of itself be sufficient tc make ten Dr. 
 Dickkopfs turn to and prove the contrary ; and any one 
 of them, I imagine, might, and probably would, thus 
 reply. Excuse his clumsy style. He would say : — 
 
 " * That there may have been, and very probably 
 was, some nucleus of fact which may have served as a 
 groundwork for these pseudo-historical memorials, is 
 not denied : but to regard that document of which it is 
 professedly a condensation as a genuine record of the 
 period in question, can only, we conceive, be the infe- 
 licity of an essentially uncritical mind. Most evidently, 
 whether we regard the known events and relations of 
 that age (as far as they have come down to us) or the 
 internal characteristics of the document itself, we dis- 
 cover unequivocal traces of an unhistoric origin. Let 
 us look at both these sources of evidence in order. If 
 we mistake not, the document, even as it now stands, 
 bears on its very front, that the original document, so 
 far from being a literal description of the events of the 
 time to which it professedly related, was allegorical, or 
 at most historico-allegorical, and most likely designed 
 broadly to caricature and satirize some perceived ten- 
 dencies or conditions of the English religious develop- 
 ment in certain parties of that age. But whether it be, 
 or be not, reducible to the class of allegorico-ecclesias- 
 tico-political satire, certainly no person of critical dis- 
 cernment can for a moment allow it to be a literal 
 statement of historic events. And first to look at the 
 internal evidence. 
 
 " * Is it possible to overlook the singular character of 
 the names which everywhere meet us ? They, in fact, 
 tell their own tale, and almost, as it were, proclaim of 
 themselves that they are allegorical. Wiseman, New- 
 man (two of them, be it observed), Masterman, Philpotts, 
 Wilde, Who, that has been gifted with even a mod- 
 
 30 
 
350 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH* 14^ 
 
 erate share of critical acumen, can fail to see that these 
 are all fictitious names, invented by the allegorist either 
 to set forth certain qualities or attributes of certain 
 persons whose true names are concealed, or, as I rather 
 think, to embody certain tendencies of the times, or 
 represent certain party characteristics. Thus the name 
 " Wiseman " is evidently chosen to represent the pro- 
 verbial craft which was attributed to the Church of 
 Rome ; and Nicholas has also been chosen (as I appre- 
 hend) for the purpose of indicating the sources whence 
 that craft was derived. In all probability the name 
 was selected just in the same manner as Bunyan in his 
 immortal Pilgrim's Progress (which still delights the 
 world) has chosen " Worldly Wiseman " for one of his 
 characters. It is said that he was a Spaniard: but 
 who so fit as a Spaniard to be represented as the agent 
 of the Holy See ? while, as there never was a Spaniard 
 of that name, every one can see that historic probability 
 has not been regarded. The word " Newman " again 
 (and observe the significant fact that there were two 
 of them) was, in all probability, I may say certainly, 
 designed to embody two opposite tendencies, both of 
 which, perhaps, claimed, in impatience of the effete 
 humanity of that age (a dead and stereotyped Prot- 
 estantism), to introduce a new order of things. These 
 parties (if I may form a conjecture from the document 
 itself) were essaying to extricate the mind of the age 
 from the difficulties of its intellectual position ; an age, 
 asserting inconsistently, on the one hand, the freedom 
 of spiritual life, and, on the other, claiming for the Bible 
 an authorized supremacy over all the phenomena of 
 that spiritual life. One of these parties sought to solve 
 / this difficulty by endeavoring to resuscitate the spirit 
 J of the past ; the other, by attempting to set human in- 
 1 teUect and consciousness free from the yoke of all ex- 
 
PAPAL AGGRESSION IMPOSSIBLE. 351 
 
 ternal authority. In all probability the namiis were 
 suggested to the somewhat profane allegorico-satirical 
 writer by that text in the English version, " Put on the 
 Newman," the new man of the spirit. We are almost 
 driven to this interpretation, indeed, by the extreme 
 and ludicrous improbability of two men — brothers, 
 brought up at the same university — gradually receding, 
 pari passu, from the same point in opposite directions, 
 to the uttermost extreme ; one till he had embraced the 
 most puerile legends of the Middle Ages, the other, till 
 he had proceeded to open infidelity. Probably such a 
 curious coincidence of events was never heard of since 
 the world began ; and this must, at all events, be re- 
 jected. 
 
 " ' Similar observations apply to the name Masterman^ 
 which, in ancient English, was applied to him who was 
 not a "servant" or "journeyman," and is not unfitly 
 used to indicate collectively the assemblage of wealthy 
 merchants who, like those of Tyre, were " princes " ; as 
 well as to imply that the powerful class to which they 
 belonged were the " Mastermen " in the country, and, in 
 fact, spoke in a potential voice in all such crises as that 
 supposed. It might also, perhaps, be designed oblique- 
 ly to intimate, that, whatever the clergy and the theolo- 
 gians of different parties might wish to realize, it was, 
 after all, the powerful and independent class of the laity 
 who were the " mastermen," and would not succumb to 
 any spiritual guides whatever, even though called by 
 the specious names of "Wisemen and Newmen. The 
 mere singularity of the names alone ought to decide 
 the point. And what further confirms our view is, that 
 it is impossible to point out any Englishmen of any 
 distinction who ever had any of these names. Here 
 we do not argue from conjecture, after merely looking 
 into the most recent biographical repertories (as, for 
 
352 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 example, the " Bibliotheca Clarisimorum Virorum," in 
 three hundred and fifty volumes folio) ; for it is no ar- 
 gument that this meagre collection makes no mention 
 of any such names ; since, in the successive compila- 
 tions of such works, (as the world grows older,) it has 
 been found necessary to extrude from time to time 
 thousands of lesser names, which had twinkled in pre- 
 ceding ages. But, deeply anxious to establish truth, 
 we have at infinite pains caused to be fished up, from 
 the depths of the archives of our national museums, 
 very rare reprints of some of the works of the age near- 
 est that in which these events are said to have occurred, 
 and in none of these works is there an individual men- 
 tioned of the name of Newman or Masterman, and 
 only one comparatively obscure person of the name of 
 "Wiseman, — a presumptive proof that they were fic- 
 titious names. Is it possible that these curious and 
 varied coincidences can be the mere effect of chance ? ' 
 
 " I shall spare you," said Harrington, " Dr. Dickkopf's 
 learned etymological disquisitions on the names Wilde 
 and Philpotts, which, aided by the imputed ' rashness ^ 
 of the one, and the * intoxicated zeal ' of the other, he 
 clearly demonstrated to be fictitious. 
 
 " After which, I will suppose him to proceed thus : — 
 * We presume we have said enough to convince any 
 acute and candid mind of the extreme improbability of 
 the document being designed to convey to posterity a 
 literal statement of facts ; not that we for a moment 
 think it necessary to suppose that any evil design actu- 
 ated the writer, whoever he might be. It was most 
 likely intended, as we have already said, to be an 
 allegorico-political caricature of certain events which 
 did undeniably occur, and which formed a slender basis 
 of historic fact on which to found it. 
 
 " * Nor is th3 particularity of some of the dates and 
 
PAPAL AGGRESSION IxMPOSSIBLE. 353 
 
 alleged circumstances of much weight in our judgment. 
 He must be a miserable inventor of fiction indeed, who 
 cannot clothe a narrative in some verisimilitude of this 
 kind. It is said, that the historian makes a seeming 
 refereuiie to those who were living at the very time. 
 " Some," he says, " still sarvive." But who does not 
 see that the word " survive '' may refer to the accounts 
 (which he, it appears, knew little how to interpret), not 
 the persons; though, be it observed, that on such a 
 supposition he does not vouch for having seen them, and 
 may have spoken merely from report. This very clause, 
 too, has undeniably much the appearance of an inter- 
 polation. There are many other little circumstances, 
 which, to those who have been accustomed to detect 
 unhistoric characteristics in ancient documents, and to 
 draw a sharp line between the mythic or allegoric and 
 the historic, sufficiently proclaim the origin of this sup- 
 posed narrative of facts. 
 
 " ' But the internal evidence, conclusive as it is, is as 
 nothing to the external. If we examine the document 
 by the light of the facts which contemporary history 
 supplies, nay, even by the probability or otherwise of 
 its own contents, we shall see the extreme absurdity of 
 supposing that the account from which it was borrowed 
 was ever meant to be a record of facts. We hesitate 
 not to say, that the political facts of which it makes 
 mention are many of them in the highest degree in- 
 credible. That there may have been a rebellion at 
 Rome is very possible ; but assuredly the only nation 
 in Europe, (if we except England,) that was not likely 
 to take the Pope's part against a republican movement, 
 or reseat him on his throne, was the French. To sup- 
 pose them thus acting is contrary to all that we know 
 of the history of that nation, and of human nature. 
 The traces of the terrible revolutions which in that 
 30 • 
 
354 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH/ f«^ 
 
 century, and at the close of the preceding one, shook 
 France again and again to her centre, and the out- 
 lines of which still live in authentic history, all show 
 the extent to which infidelity and democratic violence 
 prevailed in France ; nay, we know that during the do- 
 minion of the Emperor Napoleon, if we are to regard his 
 history as literally true, and not a collection of fables and 
 legends,* as some even of that age maintained, that 
 great conqueror arrested and imprisoned the Pope. 
 That France should have undertaken the task of sub- 
 duing a republican movement, "just when she had come 
 out of a similar revolution, or rather many such, — and 
 of reseating the Pope on his throne, when she had been 
 more impatient of the restraints of all religion than any 
 other nation in Europe, — is perfectly incredible ! Not 
 less improbable is it that, supposing (as may perhaps 
 be true) that there was a basis of fact in the asserted re- 
 bellion of the Romans, and Pio Nono's restoration to 
 his dominions (though not by France, that the intelli- 
 gent reader will on politico-logical grounds pronounce 
 impossible, but more probably by the Spaniards), — yet 
 can we suppose that a power which was always cele- 
 brated for its astuteness and subtlety would choose that 
 very moment of humiliation and ignominy to rush into 
 an act so audacious as that of reestablishing the Rom- 
 ish hierarchy in England, — in a nation by far the most 
 powerful in the world at that time, — a nation which, if 
 it had pleased, could have blown Rome into the air in 
 three months? It must needs have strengthened a 
 thousand-fold the strong antipathies of the English to 
 the See of Rome. It would, indeed, have justified that 
 storm of indignation with which it is said to have been 
 met. 
 
 * Dr. Dickkopf may be here supposed to refer to the " Historic Doubts" 
 of Archbishop Whately, which may well deceive even more astute critics. 
 
PAPAL AGGRESSION IMPOSSIBLE. 355 
 
 " < There is much that is palpably improbable in many- 
 other parts of the statement (simple as it seems to be) 
 when submitted to the searching spirit of modern criti- 
 cism. How ridiculous is the story of Cardinal Wise- 
 man's pretending that the oath in receiving the Pallium 
 had been modified for his convenience ; little less so, in- 
 deed, than his challenge to his Presbyterian antagonist 
 to examine it, and that, too, in the very book in which 
 the contested clause was not cancelled I All this is 
 such a maze of absurdity, that it is impossible to believe 
 it. In the first place, do we not know that, throughout 
 the whole history of the Papal power, the inflexible 
 character, not only of its doctrines, but of its official 
 forms and solemnities, was always maintained, and 
 that this pertinacity was continually placing it at a dis- 
 advantage in the contest with the more flexible spirit of 
 Protestantism? It would not renounce, in terms or 
 words, the very things which it did renounce in deeds, 
 and never could prevail upon itself to get over this un- 
 accommodating spirit ! Yet here we are to beUeve that, 
 at the Cardinal's request, a certain part of a most sol- 
 emn ceremonial — that of receiving the Pallium — was 
 remitted by the Pope ! If it were so, the Cardinal 
 would certainly have desired to conceal it. If he could 
 not have done that, he would, at least, never have given 
 so easy a triumph to his adversary as to challenge him 
 to inspect the very copy of the Pontifical, in w^hich, af- 
 ter all, the oath was not cancelled, in order that he 
 might be satisfied that it was ! Who can believe that 
 a Cardinal of the Romish Church, Wiseman or fool, 
 would have been simple enough for such a step as this ? 
 It is plain that the historian himself was not unaware 
 that such an objection would immediately suggest it- 
 self, and endeavors to guard against it, — a suspicious 
 circumstance in itself^ — which may serve to warn us 
 
356 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 how little we can depend on the historic character of 
 the document. 
 
 " ' Again ; what can be more improbable, than thatj 
 when a great nation was convulsed from one end to the 
 other, as the English are said to have been, there should 
 have been no violence, not even accidentally, attending 
 those huge and excited assemblages ; a thing so natu- 
 ral, nay, so certain! Who can believe that only one 
 man was sacrificed, and he on the predominant side ? 
 I have discovered in my laborious researches on this 
 important subject, that only seventy years before, when 
 a cry of the same nature, but much less potent, was 
 raised, London was filled with conflagration and blood- 
 shed. Who ever heard, indeed, of commotion such as 
 this is pretended to have been, and its ending in vox et 
 prceterea nihil? 
 
 " ' It is superfluous to point out the absurdity of sup- 
 posing a Cardinal of the E-omish Church lecturing the 
 people of England on " the claims of religious liberty " ; 
 or so great a nation, in such a paroxysm, spending 
 many months in the concoction of a measure confessed 
 to be a feeble one, and suffered to be broken with im- 
 punity ! 
 
 " * But, lastly, my laborious researches have led to the 
 important discovery, that, in this very year of pretended 
 hot commotion, England — in peace with all the world, 
 profound peace within and profound peace without — 
 celebrated a sort of jubilee of the nations, in a vast 
 building of glass (wonderful for those times), called the 
 Great Exhibition, to which every country had contrib- 
 uted specimens of the comparatively rude manufactures 
 of that rude age ! London was filled with foreigners 
 from all parts of the earth ; the whole kingdom was in 
 a commotion, indeed, but a commotion of hospitable 
 festivity, in which it shook hands with all the world ^ 
 
PAPAL AGGRESSION IMPOSSIBLE. 357 
 
 This is a piece of positive evidence which ought to set- 
 tle the whole matter. In short, the external and inter- 
 nal evidence alike warrants us in rejecting this absurd 
 story as utterly incredible.' " 
 
 " Upon my word," said young Robinson, " you have 
 said more than I thought you could have said on such 
 a theme. I really almost doubt whether Dr. Dickkopf 
 has not the best of it, and whether we ought not to 
 agree that the ' Papal Aggression ' is a sheer delusion." 
 
 " O," said Harrington, " I have not given you half 
 the arguments by which an historian, eighteen hundred 
 years hence, might prove that what has actually oc- 
 curred never could have occurred, and that what has 
 not occurred must, in the very nature of things, have 
 occurred, by a necessity alike political, historical, ethi- 
 cal, logical, and psychological. And no doubt Dr* 
 Dickkopf is right on the principles on which acute 
 critics may argue ; that is, the assumption that certain 
 probabilities will justify conclusions on such subjects. 
 One might naturally have supposed the Pope to have 
 been more politic than to take this step, — the French 
 more consistent than to suppress the Republican move- 
 ment of Italy, — the English less moderate in express- 
 ing their indignation, — and certainly that there would 
 never have been such an array of odd names to gar- 
 nish one brief document. And now, I bethink me, 
 it is far from impossible that some Dr. Dickkopf may 
 even apply to Strauss's Leben Jesu, and Dr. Whately's 
 * Historic Doubts ' similar reasoning, to prove that the 
 first was elaborate irony, and the second a sincere ex- 
 pression of scepticism." 
 
 " How can that be ? " 
 
 " Thus : he will prove that the age was remarkably 
 fond of such species of ironical literature. As Strauss, 
 
358 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH." ^■ 
 
 in his preface, has expressly admitted (though we all 
 know what he means) that Christianity is true, and has 
 suggested an unimaginably absurd hypothesis as to its 
 true import, founded on the principles of the Hegelian 
 philosophy, the learned Dr. Dickkopf will say, that no 
 one who so spoke of Christianity could have intended 
 seriously to discredit it, and yet certainly could not 
 possibly believe the absurd theory of it concocted out 
 of German philosophy ; ergo^ that we must regard the 
 whole book as a piece of prolonged irony, — a little too 
 characteristic of German pedantry, it is true, but sin- 
 cerely designed to expose that extravagance of historic 
 criticism and Biblical exegesis which had so distin- 
 guished the author's countrymen, by which Homer had 
 been annihilated, a great part of ancient history ren- 
 dered doubtful, and the Bible turned into a riddle-book ; 
 that this hypothesis is confirmed by the space which 
 Strauss gives to the exposure of the absurdities of the 
 Rationalists, which, in fact, occupies at least half his 
 work. Dr. D. will even very likely prove that Strauss 
 / himself is a fictitious name ; Strauss, in the German, 
 C^/ meaning an ostrich, which, according to the proverb, can 
 ^1 digest any thing. On the other hand, as he will be able 
 to show that Strauss's work is a piece of prolonged 
 irony, he will very likely show that Whately's * His- 
 toric Doubts ' may be a sincere expression of opinion 
 (which, in fact, many have even in our day wisely be- 
 lieved it to be), and he will argue it with a gravity wor- 
 thy of one of the commentators who interpret the irony 
 of Socrates literally ; he will prove it from the air of 
 sobriety and sincerity which pervades the pamphlet. 
 Nay, for aught I know, he may show that there was an 
 * historic place ' for such a piece in the undoubted myths 
 to which the wondrous achievements of Napoleon had 
 given rise ; he will say that these had produced a natu- 
 
PAPAL AGGRESSION IMPOSSIBLE. 359 
 
 ral feeling of scepticism as to the greater part of the 
 facts, though he will think Dr. Whately has gone a 
 little too far in doubting his very existence ; there being 
 sufficient evidence that such a man as Napoleon existed, 
 although the world really knows little more about him 
 than about Semiramis or Genghis Khan ! " 
 
 " Well," said I, " having proved that Dr. Strauss's 
 work is irony, and Whately's brochure a sincere ex- 
 pression of opinion, it would be hard for even Dr. Dick- 
 kopf to go further. But, seriously, it is no laughing 
 matter. This is a strange power the future historian 
 has over us." 
 
 "O, be assured," said Harrington, " he can make of 
 us just what he pleases. Never was a question more 
 unreasonable than that of the Irishman, who, being con- 
 jured, on some occasion, to think of posterity^ said, * I 
 should like to know what posterity has done for us.' It X^ 
 will do something for us, depend upon it. A future 
 historian will not only make us confess, with the 
 Prayer-Book, * that we have done the things we ought 
 not to have done, and have left undone the things we 
 ought to have done,' but * that we have done the things 
 that we have not done, and have left undone the things 
 that we have done.' " 
 
 " I wonder," said I, " that some of Dr. Strauss's 
 countrymen have not proved him to be an imaginary 
 being, — a myth. It were very easy to do it on such 
 principles." 
 
 " It has been done long since," said Harrington, "by 
 Wolfgang Menzel." , 
 
 " Thank you," said I, in conclusion, " you have clear- 
 ly proved that a true history may plausibly be shown \ 
 to he false J^ 
 
 " And therefore, my dear uncle, you will, I hope, 
 justify my scepticism in all such matters," said he 
 
360 
 
 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 archly. I acknowledge, as Socrates says, that 1 felt for 
 a moment as if I had received a sudden blow, and hard- 
 ly knew what to say. " No," said I at last, " unless you 
 can justify Dr. Strauss's theory of historical criticism, 
 of which you yourself acknowledge you have doubts. 
 With that any thing may be proved false ; meantime it 
 appears that the facts to which it is applied may be un- 
 / doubtedly true.^^ 
 
 On retiring to my chamber, I mused for some time 
 on the facility with which man's ingenuity or inclina- 
 tions can pervert any facts which he resolves shall be 
 otherwise than they are. " Dubious as is the Evidence," 
 Harrington was fond of saying, " I distrust the Judge 
 still more " ; an admission, I told him, of which I should 
 one day remind him. Tired at last of this unpleasant 
 theme, I took up a volume of Leibnitz's Theodicee, 
 which happened to lie on the table, and read those 
 striking passages towards the conclusion in which he 
 represents Theodore (reluctant to accept the iron theory 
 of necessity) as privileged with a peep into a number 
 of the infinite possible worlds ; from which he has the 
 satisfaction of seeing that, bad as is the lot of Sextus in 
 the best of all possible worlds, that lot, Sextus being 
 what he is, could not possibly be any better ; a queer 
 consolation, by the way, till we know why Sextus must 
 be what he is, or why Sextus must be at all. 
 
 I sank off to slumber in my chair, no doubt under the 
 soporific effects of this metaphysical morphine. While 
 I slept, the previous discussions of the day and the 
 dose of Theodicee operating together suggested a very 
 strange dream, which I shall here record. It shall be 
 entitled 
 
[ THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 361 
 
 The Paradise of Fools. 
 
 Methought I saw a grave and very venerable . .d m<x •! 
 with a long white beard enter my chamber, and quietly 
 seat himself opposite to me. Instead of asking who he 
 was and how he came there, nothing seemed more 
 natural and proper. We all know how easily in dreams 
 the mind dispenses with all ceremony ; little or no in- 
 troduction is required ; every one is at once on a most 
 delightful footing of familiarity with all the world; and 
 the greatest possible incongruities appear just comme il 
 fauU 
 
 He told me that he had come from a very curi- 
 ous part of the "best of all possible worlds," — the 
 " Paradise of Fools " ; and on my looking surprised, 
 said, — 
 
 " Are you ignorant, then, that there is a spot in the 
 universe where a vicegerent of the Deity has at his dis- 
 posal unlimited power and wisdom to enable him to 
 comply with the somewhat whimsical conditions of the 
 theories of those wonderful philosophers who have 
 taken upon them to say how the universe might have 
 been constructed without any supreme or presiding in- 
 telligence at all ; or have modestly suggested, that, 
 had they been consulted, certain notable improvements 
 might have been effected in its fabrication or govern- 
 ment; or, lastly, who have complained of the revelation 
 which God has vouchsafed to man, or contended, that, 
 if true, it might have been more unexceptionably framed, 
 and more skilfully promulgated ? " 
 
 " And what is the result ? " I asked. 
 
 " The result is a part of ' the everlasting shame and 
 contempt ' which are the heritage of impiety." 
 
 " There must have been enough for the said vicege- 
 rent to do," I remarked. 
 
 31 
 
362 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 " Not SO much as you imagine," said he, smiling. 
 " The conditions of their theories, so far as even om- 
 niscience can comprehend or omnipotence realize them, 
 are indeed exactly complied with ; but nevertheless, 
 they often baffle both. Sometimes the reproof, thus 
 implied, obliquely strikes more than its immediate ob- 
 jects ; it alights even on some of the profoundest phi- 
 losophers, who never had it in their thoughts to call in 
 question the infinite superiority of Divine Power and 
 Wisdom, but who have delivered themselves a little too 
 positively about * monads ' and ' atoms,' and ultimate 
 constituents of the universe. They have sometimes 
 been not a little scandalized, as well as laughed at, 
 when some half-witted, muddle-headed followers, glad 
 to escape their trial, pretended to have founded systems 
 of Pantheism, or what is just the same thing. Athe- 
 ism, on some of their too obscure definitions. One 
 man declared that he could do nothing without the 
 Monads of Leibnitz, each of which, says that philoso- 
 pher, *is a mirror representing the universe, though 
 obscurely, and knows every thing, but confusedly,' 
 which last clause is unexceptionable enough. Another 
 rogue asked for the archetypes of Plato, — he had had 
 a notion, he said, that a good deal might be made out 
 of them without Plato's Demiurgus ; another, for the 
 constituents of the vital automata of Descartes : he had 
 been misled to believe, that, if animals could be mechan- 
 ically produced, the whole universe might have been so 
 produced also. The Archangel assured them and others, 
 with much politeness, that, if the philosophers in ques- 
 tion could in any way make their meaning intelligible, 
 Heaven would do its poor best to realize their concep- 
 tions ; but that it was impossible for even omnipotence 
 to ^ecute commands which even omniscience could not 
 comprehend. 
 
THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 363 
 
 " Similarly, one man requested that he might be pro- 
 vided with a little of Aristotle's ' Eternal Matter,' but 
 he was told that there was no such thing in rerum 
 naturd^ and that it was unfortunately too late to make 
 it. He seemed to think himself very unjustly treated. 
 Another demanded some of the Atoms of Epicurus, to 
 make a slight experiment with ; unexceptionably spheri- 
 cal, invisible, and so forth. These, he was told, he 
 might be accommodated with ; and that all he had to 
 do was to shake them long^ enovgh^ and doubtless the 
 fortuitous jumble would come out at last a miniature 
 world. 
 
 " Above all, there were several German philosophers, 
 who, having founded various physical theories, more or 
 less extensive, on the perspicuous mataphysics of their 
 countrymen, were confident that, if they had not hit on 
 the modes which Supreme Wisdom had adopted, their 
 modes were yet very excellent modes ; and they were 
 absolutely clamorous that their experiments should 
 begin. But, alas ! many of them stood but little chance 
 of being ever tried, for the very same reason which 
 prevented the disciple of Leibnitz from obtaining his 
 < Monads' ; their authors could not make their meaning 
 intelligible to the delegated omniscience. As to some 
 of the metaphysicians, since their theories embraced 
 nothing less than the evolution of the ' totality ' of the 
 universe, the 'infinite' and the 'absolute' included, it 
 was of course impossible that they could be tried. But 
 it was thought an appropriate punishment for them to 
 be condemned to write on till they had made their mean 
 ing intelligible. Some have labored with incredible 
 industry to comply with this very reasonable request, 
 but their notions seem to grow darker and darker at 
 every step ; and one in particular has written a huge 
 folio, in which, by universal consent of men and angels. 
 
364 THE ECLIPSE OP FAITH. 
 
 there is not the smallest glimmer of meaning froimr one 
 end to the other. Another even complains in private 
 of the want of philosophical genius in the court of 
 celestial criticism, and declares that in Germany they 
 could have constructed ten theories of the universe and 
 given twenty solutions of the ' infinite ' and the * abso- 
 lute ' in the time he has been vainly endeavoring to ex- 
 plain his meaning to personages so deplorably deficient 
 in metaphysical acumen." 
 
 He was going on with some other details of the hap- 
 less philosophers. 
 
 " I would much rather hear from you," said I, " for 
 
 it is a subject in which I take a far deeper interest, 
 
 how those have sped who have objected to the Revela- 
 
 ! tion with which God has favored man, on the ground 
 
 that it cannot be true, else it would have been more un- 
 
 i exceptionably framed or more wisely promulgated. I 
 
 i take it for granted that these have not been destitute of 
 
 ^opportunities of trying their experiment." 
 
 " Surely not," replied my new acquaintance. " ' The 
 Paradise of Fools ' is well stocked with creatures of this 
 description. Many of the experiments which required 
 time to test them were commenced hundreds of years 
 ago, and are completed. Others are still unfinished, 
 while there have been many which required only to be 
 commenced and they were completed instantly, to the 
 confusion of their authors." 
 
 " I should much like," said I, " to hear an account of 
 some of these experiments." 
 
 " Willingly," answered he ; " only you must bear in 
 mind that they were all to be performed under certain 
 limitations, without which no revelation which God can 
 give to man would be of the slightest value." 
 
 He then informed me, that the evidence afforded 
 must not be such as to annihilate the conditions on 
 
THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 365 
 
 which man is to be made virtuous and happy, if he is 
 to be made so at all. It must not be inconsistent with 
 the exercise of either his reason or his faith, nor pre- 
 vent the play of his moral dispositions, nor triumph by 
 mere violence over his prejudices; it must not operate 
 purely upon the passions or the senses, nor overbear all 
 possibility of offering resistance, — as would be the 
 case, for example, if a man were placed on the edge of 
 a precipice, and told that he would immediately be 
 thrown over it if he transgressed the rules of temper- 
 ance or chastity. The happiness, he said, which God 
 originally designed for his intelligent and moral crea- j 
 tures was a voluntary happiness, springing out of the 
 well-balanced and well-directed activity of all the prin- 
 ciples of their nature. Any revelation, therefore, must 
 proceed on the same basis, both as regards itself and_.^ 
 the mode in which it is given. Arguments and motives 
 morally sufficient, but not more than sufficient, must 
 be addressed to the intellect and the conscience. All 
 this is necessary to render the felicity and perfection of 
 man stable and permanent; for without such a trial, 
 triumphantly sustained, he would have no security that, 
 in the presence of objects which tend to exert an over- 
 powering influence on his senses or his feelings, he 
 might not at some period of the unknown future be 
 impelled to take a wrong path, and err and be miserable. 
 This ordeal, originally designed for man and not super- 
 seded by revelation, must be continued long enough to 
 render the principles on which he ought to act practical 
 habits ; after which he may go forth (sublime and glo- 
 rious privilege I) to any part of this world, or of any 
 world to which God may call him, master of himself 
 and his destiny; not afraid lest temptations should 
 warp him from a steadfastness that is founded on the 
 decisions of an inflexible will, itself directed by enlight- 
 
 31 • 
 
366 ti:e eclipse of faith. 
 
 ened intelligence and moral rectitude ; in a word, in 
 possession of the appropriate and alone appropriate 
 happiness of an intellectual and moral agent ; an image 
 of the felicity of the great Creator himself. This con- 
 dition, he said, of giving a revelation, so far from being 
 a hardship, is not only in harmony with the nature of 
 things, but is itself an expression of the Divine Benefi- 
 cence ; which designed for man no casual, precarious 
 safety, as the result of transient external violence to 
 the principles of his nature, but a permanent and invio- 
 lable equilibrium of the powers within him. " Heaven 
 itself," he concluded, " can be heaven only to those who 
 are internally prepared for it." 
 
 " Were there many," I cried, " who were willing to 
 make the experiment of giving a revelation more un- 
 exceptionably than it has been given, on the proposed 
 conditions ? " 
 
 " Not very many, as you may well suppose," said he ; 
 " but if objectors had been unwilling, they would have 
 been compelled to make it." 
 
 " But upon whom were the experiments to be made ? " 
 said I ; "for unless they were beings of the same intel- 
 lectual and moral condition as themselves, I see not 
 how aught could come of it." 
 
 " O, be satisfied," he replied ; " the beings who are 
 provided for these Projectors are as like the inhabitants 
 of your world as one egg is like another. They are 
 men themselves ; communities made up of those who 
 have lived in your world, and who have gone out of it 
 with the same thoughts, passions, and emotions as they 
 had on earth ; many of them having rejected or disre- 
 garded the true revelation, and others never having had 
 that revelation to reject. Of course they are ignorant, 
 in this intermediate state, of the tricks which these ex- 
 perimenters play with them, till they are concluded ; 
 
THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 367 
 
 but in rejecting the new revelations, many of them 
 reject the very conditions of belief which when on earth 
 they said wou/d have been sufficient, while the result 
 in those who make the experiment and in those on 
 whom the experiment is made is to ' vindicate the 
 ways of God to man.' " 
 
 There is a wonderful power in getting over trifling 
 difficulties in our dreams, or I should certainly have 
 demurred to some parts of this statement. Instead of 
 that, I let my mind, as usual in such cases, dwell on 
 a point which was no difficulty at all. " If," said I, 
 " they are dead, they are probably very different beings 
 from what they were when alive." i 
 
 " And do you think," said he, with an unpleasant 
 half-sneer, " that mere change of place makes any dif- 
 ference in man, or that the merely physical effects of 
 death operate a magical change on his intellect, affec- 
 tions, emotions, and volitions, or can render him a more 
 reasonable creature than he was before ? " 
 
 " I did not mean exactly that," said I ; " but surely it 
 is not possible that the soul without the body can be 
 exactly like the soul with it." 
 
 " Have not your philosophers," said he, " often 
 founded, or pretended to found, scepticism on the argu- 
 ment that it is difficult to tell whether life itself may 
 not be a series of illusions like those in dreams ? Have 
 they not even declared, that, as in dreams all seems to 
 be real, so in their waking moments all may be no more 
 than a'dream? nay, have not some said that it is im- 
 possible to tell which is the real and which the dream- 
 ing part of their existence ? " 
 
 " There have been such," said I, " but I never knew 
 any one convinced by their reasoning." 
 
 " Perhaps not," he answered, " but it may be of use 
 to show jou, that in that intermediate state men may, 
 
 •<r v^ 
 
368 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 as in dreams, be capable of a series of thoughts and 
 emotions exactly similar to what they experienced in 
 this world ; quite as vivid, and,^' he adcfed with a quiet 
 smile, " perhaps as rational." 
 
 " But they must be more coherent than those which 
 now visit our slumbers," said I. 
 
 " It is hardly worth while to contend about the dif- 
 ference," he replied, with a sarcastic expression which I 
 did not much like. " It is sufficient to say, however, 
 that these projectors have no reason to complain ; for 
 with whatever show of reason men think or act here, 
 BO under exactly the same laws of thought and emotion 
 do those shadows act there." 
 
 " But I, who am now awake and perfectly sen- 
 sible " 
 
 He laughed outright. " Are you so sure," said he, 
 " that you are awake. How do you know it ? " 
 
 " Because I am conscious of it," said I. 
 
 " And this too, I suppose, is a philosopher," he mut- 
 tered to himself. " Well," he continued aloud, " we 
 must not discuss these matters just now; you must 
 believe me when I say that the communities to which 
 our experimenters go to work, on their own hypotheses, 
 are just as capable of ingenious reasoning and impartial 
 and candid deliberation, as you are now in your present 
 waking moments. You wish to hear a few of these 
 experiments ? " 
 
 I nodded. 
 
 " Well, then, first, there was one worthy philosopher, 
 who, having seen the advantages w^hich infidehty has 
 gained from the discrepancies and other difficulties 
 occasioned by the varied testimonies which the evan- 
 gelical historians have left behind them, resolved, after 
 having wrought a number of splendid miracles (uni- 
 formly affirmed and never denied by the parties in 
 
THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 369 
 
 whose presence they were pirformed), that they should 
 all be consigned to one single history, so admirably con- 
 structed that tfiere was not a single discrepancy from 
 beginning to end." 
 
 " And what was the effect ? " 
 
 " Why, in the first place, you must recollect that, ac- 
 cording to that or any other mode of authenticating a 
 divine communication by miracles, there were a great 
 many more of those who never saw the miracles than 
 of those who did ; for if miracles had been common, 
 they would have ceased to be miracles. There were 
 vast numbers, therefore, who, even in the age in which 
 they were performed, never believed them ; but, what is 
 more, in four generations there was not a soul that did 
 not treat them as old wives' fables." 
 
 " Surely they were very unreasonable," I said. 
 
 " Not at all ; it was inevitable ; for it was asked (and 
 every one assented to it), whether it was reasonable 
 that a story so marvellous, and so contrary to experi- 
 ence, should be believed on any single testimony, how- 
 ever unexceptionable ? There were also keen critics 
 who said, that, as there was proof that in the very age in 
 which the miracles were wrought there were many who 
 did not believe the message which they professedly con- 
 firmed, it was a strong indication that the whole was a 
 fiction ; while some others of still greater acumen dis- 
 covered that the very freedom from all discrepancies 
 and contradictions in the account itself smelt very 
 strongly of art and design ; that this perfection of con- 
 sistency was not the characteristic of any history ever 
 written by an ^honest man, and that no doubt it had 
 been elabor^itely contrived by a single highly inventive 
 mind." 
 
 " The idiots I " I exclaimed. " Why, this very cir- 
 cumstance ought surely to have led them tc argue the 
 other way." 
 
 4 
 
370 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 " They thought otherwise ; and I must say I think 
 they argued very plausibly, and that very much is to be 
 said for them. They thought that perfect self-consis- 
 tency might possibly be obtained by a single mind of 
 highly inventive power, and they preferred believing 
 that, to receiving such wonderful things supported by 
 any single testimony." 
 
 " But did none attempt to remedy this defect of the 
 unhappy speculator ? " 
 
 " O, yes ; another attempted to establish in a second 
 community of our reasonable shadows a revelation on 
 the same basis of miracles ; but instead of trusting to 
 one witness, he recorded the results by ten ; and with 
 such perfection of art, that all the ingenuity of all the 
 critics of succeeding ages could not detect a single va- 
 riation other than in language ; the records themselves 
 and their contents were precisely the same. 
 
 " And what was the result." 
 
 " Much the same as before ; for this identity of sub- 
 stance and almost of manner showed most evidently, 
 said the critics, that there had been collusion between 
 the several parties who had framed the revelation : — 
 and in the course of three or four generations it was 
 universally rejiscted, as totally unworthy of belief." 
 
 " I see not, then, how a revelation by any such means 
 could be authenticated at all ? " 
 
 " Why, our reasonable creatures require a great deal 
 of management, — that is the truth. There is no way 
 in which you cannot prove to your own satisfaction, 
 that no one of any divine communications (given under 
 the conditions aforesaid) is to be believed ; but perhaps, 
 after all, the method would havf been more sure, had 
 these sages confined these communications to differ- 
 ent testimonies, in which the general harmony and un- 
 designed coincidences should be manifest, but which 
 
THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 371 
 
 should contain slight discrepancies, and even some ap- 
 parent contradictions, which the parties, if there had 
 been collusion, would certainly have obviated. This 
 would, perhaps, have been the best guaranty that there 
 could not be any fraud in the case." 
 
 " But this," I remarked, " was just the mode in which 
 the Gospels of Christ were consigned to mankind." 
 
 "And you see with what mixed result. It was suf- 
 ficient, indeed, to justify the method, if it was attended 
 with less disastrous effects than any other mode. For 
 it is a problem of limits even at the very best." 
 
 Prompted, I suppose, by some recollection of Wool- 
 ston's opinion, that the miracles of Jesus Christ would 
 have been better worthy of attention, and more likely 
 to be credited by posterity, if they had been performed 
 on royal or notable public characters, or in their pres- 
 ence, I felt curious to know if any one had been deter- 
 mined to guard against a similar error. I was told that 
 there had been ; and for a time every thing went on 
 well. This sage's doctrine and pretensions were rap- 
 idly propagated within certain limits of space and time. 
 But alas ! while even in his lifetime the zeal of some 
 of the royal or noble converts caused the doctrine to be 
 regarded with considerable suspicion among the rival 
 great, to whom the fame of the miracles was known 
 only by hearsay, its early success proved an insur- 
 mountable objection in a few generations ; for several 
 learned infidels showed to the satisfaction of the entire 
 community, that the pretended revelation could have 
 been nothing else than a conspiracy of crafty states- 
 men for political purposes. It was sagely remarked, 
 that it was not wonderful that a doctrine had been be- 
 lieved, and had rapidly diffused itself, which had all 
 the prestige of rank, and power, and statesmanship in 
 its favor ; that if, indeed, it had appeared amongst the 
 
372 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 poor and ignorant portion of mankind, and the miracles 
 had been witnessed by such as from their situation 
 were rather likely to be persecuted by the great and 
 powerful than to be favored by them ; and lastly, if the 
 pretended revelation had vanquished such resistance 
 instead of being suspiciously allied with it, something 
 more might be said in its behalf; but as it was, the 
 whole thing was evidently — a lie. 
 
 " Really," said I, " it seems a more difficult thing for 
 God to make known his will to mankind than I had 
 supposed." 
 
 " It is," said he, " on those conditions to which his 
 wisdom for man's own sake has restricted him, and 
 apart from which condition I have already stated that 
 a revelation would be worthless. It is a far more diffi- 
 cult matter than those who have not reflected upon the 
 subject would suppose, and you would have more rea- 
 son to say so still, if you knew, as I do, how ludicrous- 
 ly, as well as how utterly, many other attempts have 
 failed." 
 
 He then amused me with an account of a sage, who, 
 seeing the ill consequences which had followed from 
 the very local or limited character of miracles (when a 
 few generations had passed by), resolved to remedy 
 this by a series of wonders so stupendous and magnifi- 
 cent, that the very echo of them, as it were, should re- 
 verberate through the hollow of future ages, and so 
 impress all tradition as to render them independent of 
 the voice of individual historians. He accordingly 
 passed to the very extreme limit (if he did not go be- 
 yond it) by which a miracle is necessarily restricted, — 
 that of not disturbing general laws. He succeeded per- 
 fectly in the place in which these phenomena were wit- 
 nessed ; though, as there were multitudes who knew 
 nothing of the operator, but were only conscious that 
 
THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 873 
 
 nature was playing some strange pranks, no connection 
 was established in their minds between the doctrine 
 and the miracles. But the consequences in the future 
 were the direct contrary of what the sanguine philoso- 
 pher had contemplated. If the impression of those 
 who saw these splendid wonders could have been pro- 
 longed, all had been well ; but so far from the report 
 of them conciliating the regard of posterity, their very 
 grandeur and vastness were the principal arguments 
 against them, and condemned them to universal rejec- 
 tion. Who could believe, men said, that phenomena 
 so strange and so portentous — not only so different 
 from, and so contrary to, the uniform course of nature, 
 but so much beyond the limited purpose which must 
 have been contemplated by a truly miraculous interpo- 
 sition — had ever happened? If they had been single 
 events, very transient and local disturbances of the 
 laws of nature for a high object, the case, they candidly 
 avowed, would have been wholly different; but such 
 wholesale infractions of the fixed laws of the universe 
 were at once to be summarily rejected. They were 
 unquestionably the offspring of an age of fable and 
 superstition. 
 
 It did not fare much better with another miracle- 
 monger of the same species. In one community, which 
 he had engaged to instruct in the mysteries of his rev- 
 elation, the wonders he wrought extended to such large 
 classes of phenomena, and for a time were so constant, 
 that they ceased to be miracles at all. As he could not 
 add ubiquity to his other attributes, few attached any 
 importance to his declaration that he was the author of 
 such vast and distant operations, and fewer absolutely 
 believed him. Moreover, men became accustomed to 
 phenomena w^hich they daily witnessed; for such, it 
 seems, is the constitution of human nature^ in any 
 
 32 
 
374 
 
 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 world, that things' cease to be wonderful when they 
 cease to be novel. Were it otherwise, men woud be 
 always wondering; for no miracles are more wonderful 
 than the phenomena of every day in every part of the 
 universe. Not a few wise men, therefore, in this com- 
 munity, succeeded in giving a perfectly plausible ac- 
 count of these wholesale infractions of the uniformity 
 of nature. Nature, it was said, was unquestionably 
 uniform, but only in the several larger portions of her 
 operations ; that within certain cycles she varied her 
 operations, as was clearly seen in the introduction of 
 new races, and so forth ; that the generation which had 
 just witnessed such departures from what seemed the 
 established order of things were doubtless living at an 
 epoch in which the huge evolution of the universe was 
 about to exhibit one of these new phases, and that the 
 series of sequences to which they were just becoming 
 accustomed would afterwards continue uniform for a 
 number of ages ; that such things were no miracles, but 
 merely indicated that nature was, within certain limits, 
 only variably uniform^ though she was also, within cer- 
 tain limits, uniformly invariable. After this very clear 
 deliverance of philosophy, few people troubled them- 
 selves about the claims of this seer, and were so fast 
 getting accustomed to the new uniformity, that it 
 seemed highly probable that the very next generation, 
 or at most the second, would begin to prate in the old 
 style about the invariable uniformity of nature, and to 
 treat all the ancient order of things which their progen- 
 itors had seen changed as a lying fable of those remote 
 ages. Enraged at such an unexpected result of his 
 operations, the projector changed his plan, and broke 
 in upon nature with such a startling explosion of single 
 miracles, that there could be no longer any doubt that 
 nature was neither ^ variably uniform ' nor '• uniformly 
 
THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 375 
 
 invariable ' : the only question was, whether nature was 
 not < uniformly variable.' He set the sun spinning 
 through the heavens at such a rate, or rather at ^neh a 
 jaunty pace, that no one knew when to expect either 
 light or darkness ; men now froze with cold, and now 
 melted with heat ; the seasons seemed playing one 
 grand masquerade; the longest day and the shortest 
 day, and no day at all, succeeded one another in rapid 
 succession , and the whole universe seemed threatened 
 with ruin and desolation. Now, he thought, was the 
 time to put an end to all this strange disorder, and 
 avow himself the great agent in all these marvels ! But 
 he found, to his chagrin, that, so far from having con- 
 vinced men of the being and attributes of God, and of 
 the truth of the revelation which he had brought them, 
 they were never less disposed to listen to any such 
 story; and, in fact, that the very few whose terror had 
 left them at all in possession of their senses, had be- 
 come perfectly convinced that the universe was under 
 the dominion of Chance, and that the only orthodox 
 belief in such a world was stark Atheism. As there 
 will always be men who will speculate upon chance 
 itself, there were not wanting philosophers who con- 
 cocted admirable theories of all this disorder, but not 
 one of them dreamed of the true. They all agreed, 
 however, that the state of things admitted of no remedy 
 from any gods, celestial or infernal ; for if a divine artif- 
 icer had existed, they said, it could not have occurred. 
 And thus the miracles which were designed by this 
 great man to convince the world of a God, served for 
 a demonstration that there was and could be none ! 
 They equally served also to stifle the sage's claims to 
 be considered God's messenger, for, unhappily exhort- 
 ing a large crowd to believe that he was the cause of 
 all the misery and terror which they had suffered, they 
 
376 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 were so exasperated that they took summary vengeance 
 on him : upon which the sun resumed his wonted quiet 
 pace again through the heavens, and every thing fell 
 into the old harmonious jogtrot of uniformity. Philos- 
 ophers who lived at a distance from the scene of the 
 prophet's exit quietly adjusted their old theory to the 
 new phenomena, and showed most conclusively that 
 the whole train of things had been just what must 
 necessarily have been, and could not but have hap- 
 pened, without the most serious consequences ; while 
 those who lived near to the scene aforesaid, and were 
 privy to the circumstances, speculated upon the curious 
 coincidence between the impostor's death and the return 
 of nature to her order. It was well, they said, that 
 such things did not happen often, or they could not fail 
 to give rise to some superstitious notions as to some 
 law of causation between ignorant fanaticism and the 
 sublimest phenomena of the universe, 
 
 I asked my visitor how it fared with the many who 
 have objected to the clearness and force of prophecy, 
 and who have not scrupled to assert, that, if prophecies 
 had been given, they would have been given in such a 
 shape as would have made their claims more plain, and 
 their fulfilment more incontrovertible. " Were there 
 none who relied on this mode of demonstrating the re- 
 ality of a divine revelation, and manifesting their claims 
 to be regarded as an embassy from heaven ? " 
 
 " Many," he replied, " so many that it were tedious 
 to detail them. But you are quite mistaken if you sup- 
 pose it possible that even God can employ any moral 
 methods which man cannot evade ; how much less the 
 fools who think they can improve upon his ! The wis- 
 dom of God," said he, with a melancholy smile, "is 
 no match for the ingenuity of man. As to your pres- 
 ent question, you know there have been persons who 
 
THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 377 
 
 have continually complained in your world that proph- 
 ecy is so obscure that the event cannot be certainly 
 known to have been referred to by it, or else so plain 
 that, ipso facto, it proves that the prediction must have 
 been composed after the event. Now it was precisely 
 in attempting the juste milieu between these extremes 
 that our prophetical speculators wrecked themselves. 
 Men always had it to say that their prophecies had 
 been either too plain or too obscure ; or, if very plain, 
 and yet as plainly written before the event, that their 
 very plainness had insured their own accomplishment 
 by prompting to the very actions and conduct they so 
 clearly indicated I " 
 
 " I can easily conceive that," I answered. " But now 
 for another problem. Not a few of our older infidels 
 complained of the revelation in the Bible on the score 
 that the maxims of conduct which it delivers are too 
 general to be of any use, because the application of 
 them is still left to be adjusted by a reference to par- 
 ticular circumstances; and that, if a revelation were 
 framed, it ought to take in all the limitations of action, 
 and furnish, in fact, a complete system of casuistry; 
 otherwise it would be of no avail. Were there none 
 who attempted this task ? " 
 
 " Five-and-twenty men," he answered, " who were 
 destined to be a torment to one another, were instructed 
 to compile such a system of rules, and publish them for 
 the benefit of a certain community as an infallible rule 
 of life." 
 
 " And have they completed it ? " 
 
 " Completed it! They have been sitting now for 
 two hundred years, and have not yet exhausted the in- 
 finitude of cases to be digested under their very first 
 capitulary." He said that being all of them ingenious 
 men, all anxi^Dus to show their ingenuity, and knowing 
 
 32 * 
 
378 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 that their credit was staked upon the completeness ol 
 their system, it was incredible what strange and ridic- 
 ulous contingencies and combinations of circumstance 
 they had suggested as modifying the application of 
 their general rules. The books of law, voluminous as 
 they are in most civilized countries, were conciseness 
 itself compared with this new code of morals. It was 
 thought by many, that the labors of the commissioners 
 would not come to an end till long after the race for 
 whose benefit it was designed had ceased to exist. 
 Afraid, apparently, of such a direful contingency, they 
 had published, about three years before, the first part, 
 in seventy-five folio volumes, containing limitations, 
 illustrative cases, exceptions, and modifications, in re- 
 lation to that very obscure general maxim, ' Do unto 
 others as ye would that others should do unto you.' 
 All questions appertaining to this point were from that 
 time to be decided by the precise statements contained 
 in these statutes at large. But their mere publication 
 sufficed to make an incredible number of infidels in the 
 authority of the commission. Such a voluminous rule, 
 they truly said, could be no rule at all, and could be 
 fruitful of nothing but everlasting litigation. If (they 
 admitted) general maxims had been as briefly as possi- 
 ble laid down, and men's common sense had been left 
 to interpret and apply them with the requisite restric- 
 tions, there would be much more to be said for their 
 divine origin. But on such a system, no man, if he 
 lived for a thousand years, could tell what his duty 
 was. Many complained that, before they found the rule 
 for which they were in search, the time for its applica- 
 tion had passed away. Many excused themselves from 
 complying with the dictates of justice and charity, be- 
 cause they could not discover the cases that related to 
 their special circumstances ; some even denied that the 
 
A FUTURE LIFE. 379 
 
 rules could have been devised by heavenly wisdom, be- 
 cause, having carefully studied the whole of the sev- 
 enty-five volumes, they did not hesitate to say, that 
 there were many cases which had not been provided 
 for at all ! 
 
 I was so amused with this last disastrous attempt to 
 construct a revelation, that I laughed outright, and in 
 so doing awoke. I found that my lamp was fast going 
 out; so, dismissing the innocent volume of Leibnitz 
 which had suggested all these incongruities, I went to 
 bed ; firmly convinced that the shadows of men in the 
 " Paradise of Fools " are about as wise and ingenious 
 as are men themselves. 
 
 July 28. I had this morning some curious, and, if it 
 had not been for the grave importance of the subject, 
 amusing conversation with Mr. Fellowes on his views, 
 or rather his no views, respecting a " future life." He 
 said he wished he could make up his mind whether the 
 doctrine was true ; also whether, as some of his favorite 
 writers supposed, it was of no "spiritual" importance 
 to decide it. I said it certainly did seem of some im- 
 portance. I reminded him of Pascal's saying, that he 
 could excuse men's contented ignorance with any thing 
 rather than that. " They are not obliged," says he, " to 
 examine the Copernican system ; but it is vital to the 
 whole of existence to ascertain whether the soul is 
 mortal or not." 
 
 " Mr. Newman," said Fellowes, " thinks very differ- 
 ently : but then his whole mind is differently constituted 
 from Pascal's." 
 
 I admitted it, of course. 
 
 " Mr. Newman's views," he continued, " on the sub- 
 ject, certainly do not quite satisfy me ; and yet they are 
 
380 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 very sublime. If he has any hope in this matter, (of 
 which he appears not absolutely destitute,) it is from the 
 sheer strength of a ^ faith ' which triumphs over all ob- 
 stacles, or rather hangs upon nothing. He ridicules all 
 intellectual proofs, and at the same time declares that 
 his 'spiritual insight' deserts him. It is a faith pure 
 from all reason, and from all 'insight' too. As to in- 
 sight in this matter, I must agree with him, that, to 
 ascertain the fact of a future life by ' direct vision^ is ' to 
 me hitherto impossible.' " 
 
 Harrington, who was sitting by, smiled : " You speak 
 of your ' insight ' and ' direct vision ' much as a High- 
 lander might talk of his ' second sight.' As to your 
 present difficulty, do you remember the advice of Ra- 
 nald of the Mist to Allan M'Aulay, when the ' vision' 
 obstinately averted its face from him ? ' Have you re- 
 versed your own plaid,' said Ranald, ' according to the 
 rule of the experienced seers in such cases ? ' You do 
 not wear a plaid^ George, but suppose you try the ex- 
 periment of turning your coat inside out." 
 
 " Really, Harrington," said Fellowes, with becoming 
 solemnity, " 'insight ' is far too serious a subject to joke 
 upon." 
 
 " Why, my dear fellow," said the other, " you do not 
 think I am going to treat your 'insight' with more re- 
 spect than we treat the Bible." 
 
 " Odi profanumj'' said Fellowes, almost angrily. 
 • " No man hateth his own flesh," said Harrington, 
 with provoking quiet ; " and that, I am sure, is from no 
 profane writer. As to the ' odi profanum^ why, I shall 
 simply say, that 
 
 ' You can quote it, 
 With as much truth as he who wrote it.' " « 
 
 So saying, he left the room. I was not sorry that he 
 was gone, as I thought perhaps Fellowes might be more 
 
A FUTURE LIFE. 381 
 
 communicative. I asked him why he felt Mr. New- 
 man's arguments on this subject unsatisfactory; why 
 he could not acquiesce in them. 
 
 " In the first place, then," said he, " I was struck with 
 the fact, that, while admitting that he had no ' spiritual 
 insight' on the subject of a future life, he yet admits 
 that others may have enjoyed what is impossible to 
 him ; that there may be souls favored with this ' vision,' 
 though clouds obscure his own. It is true he has ad- 
 mitted (and indeed who can deny it ?) that the spirit- 
 ual faculty is not equally developed in all men; — 
 though, as it is not, I feel some difficulty in rejecting 
 the arguments hence arising for the possibility and 
 utility of an external revelation ; — yet at the best, if 
 the faculty may be so uncertain in reference to so im- 
 portant a question, when consulted by so diligent and 
 deep a student of its oracles as Mr. Newman, if even 
 his soul may be dubious on such a point, — why, 
 upon my soul, I sometimes hardly know what to think. 
 Again, Mr. Newman says, that some may have, as by 
 special privilege from God, what is denied to him. 
 Now really this looks a little too much like favoring 
 the vulgar view of inspiration, nay, a sort of Calvin- 
 istic 'election' in this matter; it seems to me to cast 
 doubts both on the competency and the uniformity of 
 the sublime '■ spiritual faculty,' even when most sedu- 
 lously consulted." 
 
 " It does look a little like it," said I ; " and what 
 next?" 
 
 " In the next place, I am free to confess, that, if I may 
 be allowed to argue against such an authority " 
 
 " O, remember, I pray, that you are of the school of 
 free thought : do not Bibliolatrize.^^ 
 
 " To state my views freely then : I must say, that, if 
 this suspected doctrine be not one of the unsophisticated 
 
382 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 utterances of the spiritual nature of man, I am almost 
 led to doubt whether the clearness with which the 
 spiritualist ' gazes ' on the rest may not possibly be an 
 illusion. For if any truth would seem to be a dictate 
 of nature, it is a sort of dim conviction or impression 
 of a future state. We see it, in some shape or other, 
 extensively believed by all nations, and forming a fea- 
 ture of all systems of religion, however degraded they 
 may be. Mr. W. J. Fox mentions it as one of those 
 things which are certainly characteristic of the absolute 
 religion ; so does Mr. Parker. Mr. Fox expressly affirms 
 that the approximate universality of the belief justifies 
 the application of his criterion for detecting the eter- 
 nally ' true ' under the Protean shapes of the ' false ' in 
 religion ; it is one of the points, he says, in which they 
 are all agreed^ 
 
 " Which," said I, " if true, is perhaps the only point 
 in which all religions are agreed, unless we affirm that 
 they have all recognized a Deity, because most of them 
 have recognized thousands. Yet as men's Gods have 
 varied between the Infinite Creator and a monkey, so 
 in relation to this article of a ' future life,' it must be 
 confessed that there is a little difference between the 
 Heaven of a Christian, the Paradise of a Mahometan, 
 and the Valhalla of an ancient Goth. Still, as you 
 say, it is true that, in so?ne shape or other^ nations have 
 more distinctly recognized the idea of an after exist- 
 ence, than any other assignable religious tenet." 
 "" " You know," resumed Fellowes, " that in the draught 
 of ' natural religion ' given us by Lord Herbert, that 
 writer particularly insists on this as one of the articles 
 which nature itself teaches us, as amongst the ' com- 
 mon notions,' a sentiment innate to the human mind. 
 Now if such masters as Mr. Newman may be in doubt 
 about our innate sentiments, truly I scarcely know what 
 to think." 
 
A FUTURE LIFE. 383 
 
 " You can easily decide," said I, gravely, " and decide 
 infallibly." 
 
 « How so ? " 
 
 " Consult that spiritual faculty which Mr. Newman 
 says you have as well as he or Lord Herbert. If your 
 theory be true, how can there be any doubt as to your 
 
 * innate ' sentiments ? If you say they are written in 
 very small characters, and require to be magnified by 
 somebody's microscope, that, recollect, is tantamount to 
 acknowledging the possible utility of an external reve- 
 lation. But what next ? " 
 
 " Well, then, if I must confess all the truth, I thought 
 Mr. Newman hardly fair in his exhibition of PauPs rea- 
 soning on this matter. He, if you recollect, says that 
 Paul seems to have rested the belief of Christ's resur- 
 rection very little upon evidence^ which he received very 
 credulously, upon very insufficient proof, and in a man- 
 ner which w^ould have moved the laughter of Paley ; 
 that, in short, he cared very little about the evidence, 
 and arrived mainly at his convictions in virtue of his 
 
 * spiritual aspirations ' ; that it was rather his strong 
 aspirations after immortality which made Paul believe 
 the supposed fact, than the supposed fact which gave 
 strength to his aspirations after immortality. Now it 
 is very clear (from texts which, for whatsoever reasons, 
 are not quoted by Mr. Newman), that the Apostle Paul 
 made his whole argument depend on the alleged fact of 
 Christ's resurrection, whether carelessly received or not : 
 ' If Christ be not risen, then is your faith vain, and our 
 
 preaching is also vain Then are we of all men 
 
 most miserable.' " 
 
 " But you recollect that Mr. Newman alleges that 
 Paul deals very superficially with the evidence, — with 
 that of the < five hundred,' for example. He observes 
 that Paley would have made a widely different matter 
 of it" 
 
884 
 
 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 " See how variously men may argue," replied Fel- 
 lowes, candidly. " I was talking on that very point 
 with one of the orthodox the other day, and he reasoned 
 in some such way as this: — 
 
 " On the supposition, he said, that the possession of 
 miraculous powers was notorious in the Church, — that 
 many of those whom Paul addressed had actually wit- 
 nessed them, — that the Gospel, when preached by him 
 and by the other Apostles, was confirmed by ' signs and 
 wonders,' — nothing could be more natural than the 
 very tone which the Apostles employed : that, so far 
 from its being suspicious, it was one of the truest 
 touches of nature and verisimilitude in their composi- 
 tions ; so much so, that, supposing there were no mira- 
 cles, that very tone required itself to be accounted for 
 as unnatural; he said that it is, in fact, just the way in 
 which men talk and write of any other extraordinary 
 events which notoriously happened in their time. They 
 never think of posterity, and what it may think ; of an- 
 ticipating either future doubts or charges of fraud. It 
 is natural that men should speak in this, as we should 
 call it, loose way, of what is transpiring under their very 
 noses. If, on the other hand, there had been no mira- 
 cles to appeal to, so as to render this style as natural 
 as, on the contrary supposition, it was the reverse, he 
 could not, he said, imagine, that, in that or any other 
 age, any men, especially men opposed to such preten- 
 sions, would so easily have been satisfied, even had the 
 Apostles confined themselves to rumors of alleged dis- 
 tant miracles; but much less where similar wonders 
 were said to have been brought under the eyes of the 
 very parties to whom the appeal was made ! He said 
 he would even go a step further, and affirm that, under 
 the circumstances of the professed notoriety of the mi- 
 raculous occurrences to which Paul and the other Apos- 
 
A FUTURE LIFE. 885 
 
 ties appealed, any declaration that they had instituted 
 that careful scrutiny of evidence, that minute circum- 
 stantial cross-examination of the witnesses, — which 
 would be a course all very well in the days of Paley, 
 eighteen hundred years after, but absolutely preposter- 
 ous then, — would have appeared to our age a much 
 more suspicious thing than the tone actually adopted ; 
 that the scrupulous deposition of technical proof would 
 have been finessing too much, and would have been the 
 strongest proof of collusion. The very tone objected 
 to, he said, supposing there were no miracles, is one of 
 the most striking proofs of the astonishing sagacity of 
 these men ; for it is just the tone they would have used 
 if there had been. So differently may men reason from 
 the same data! Whether (he concluded) Mr. New- 
 man's view of the facts, or his, was founded on a deeper 
 and more comprehensive knowledge of human nature, 
 he must leave to my judgment." 
 
 " I protest," said I, " I think the orthodox had the 
 best of it. But what struck you next as unaccount- 
 able in Mr. Newman's view of this subject of a future 
 life?" 
 
 " I confess, then, that the reasoning by which he 
 endeavors to show that, even admitting the fact of 
 Christ's resurrection, there could be nothing in it to 
 warrant the expectation of the resurrection of any other 
 human beings, simply because he must have differed so 
 stupendously from all the rest of mankind, appears to 
 me very damaging to us. Of what use is it, to argue 
 upon such an hypothesis ? " 
 
 " Of none in the world, certainly," said I, laughing. 
 
 " Surely not," he replied ; " for if Christ's resurrec- 
 tion be admitted, we know very well it will carry with 
 it, in the estimation of the bulk of mankind, all the other 
 great facts implicated with the Christian system. They 
 
386 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 will concede, at once, the supernatural character, the 
 divine origin, of the New Testament. I suppose there 
 scarcely ever was a man who admitted these premises 
 who would trouble himself to contest the conclusion." 
 
 " But seriously," continued this half-repentant ad- 
 mirer, almost frightened at the extent of his own free- 
 dom of thought, " though I cannot say I am satisfied 
 with Mr. Newman's notions on this subject, — and, in 
 fact, cannot make up my mind upon it, — can there be 
 anything morally more sublime than the view, that 
 the doctrine of immortality, which has been superficially 
 supposed, if not necessary, yet so conducive to sincere 
 and elevated piety, may be readily dispensed with, as 
 no way necessary (as Mr. Newman feels) for the spir- 
 itual nourishment of the soul ? * Confidence^ he says, 
 « there is none ; and hopeful aspiration is the soul's 
 highest state. But, then, there is herein nothing what- 
 ever to distress her ; no cloud of grief crosses the area 
 of her vision, as she gazes upwards.' He even intimates 
 that, from the stress laid upon immortality by ' modern 
 divines,' they might seem to be ^ incarnations of selfish- 
 ness.' He says it tends to ' degrade religion into a 
 prudential regard for our interests after death'; that 
 I* conscience, the love of virtue, for its own sake, and 
 much more the love of God, are ignored.' Many of 
 the ' spiritual ' school agree with him in this ; and some 
 even affirm that the hope of immortal felicity is but a 
 bribe to selfishness. Can any thing be more elevated 
 or original than this view ? " 
 
 " As to the elevation," said I, " I confess I prefer 
 the spectacle of Socrates, relying even on feeble argu- 
 ments rather than sink to this tame acquiescence in a 
 notion so degrading to the Deity, as that man was 
 created for a dog's life with the tormenting aspiration 
 for something better. The spectacle of the heathen 
 
A FUTURE LIFE. 
 
 ^ 
 
 sage, v/ho, amidst the thick gloom, the * palpable ob- 
 scure,' which involved this subject, gazed intently into 
 the darkness, and ' longed for the day,' — who strained 
 every nerve of an insufficient logic, and was willing to A 
 take even the whispers of hope for the oracles of truth, 
 rather than part with the prospect of immortality, — is, 
 to my mind, much more attractive. As to the originaU 
 ity of the view you just expressed, why, it is merely a 
 resurrection of one of the theories of some of our very 
 
 * spiritual deists ' a century ago. Collins and Shaftes- 
 bury were, in like manner, apprehensive lest an elevated 
 
 * virtue ' should suffer at all from this bribery of a hope 
 of a * blessed immortality ' ; as you may see in the 
 Characteristics. For my own part, I certainly have my 
 doubts whether virtue will be the less virtuous, or 
 spirituality the less spiritual, for such a doctrine ; and I 
 must believe it even on the hypothesis of you spiritual 
 folks ; for you generally affirm that the Belief of a Fu- 
 ture Life does not really exercise any thing more than 
 an insignificant influence on human nature ; the hopes 
 and the fears of that so distant a morrow are too vague 
 to be operative. * Now, if it be so, immortality can be 
 no more a bribe than a menace." 
 
 " Yet," said Fellowes, " in justice to Mr. Newman, it 
 must not be forgotten, that he thinks that ' a firm belief 
 of immortality must have very energetic force,' provid- 
 ed it * rises out of insight ' ; it is as ' an external dogma ' 
 'that he thinks it of little efficacy. He says, you know, 
 that, supposing Paul to have had this insight, ' his light 
 can do us no good, while it is a light outside of us If 
 he in any way confused the conclusions of his logic 
 {which is often extremely inconsequent and mistaken) 
 with the perceptions of his divinely illuminated soul, our 
 belief might prove baseless.' * These are his very words." 
 
 * Soul, pp. 226, 227. 
 

 388 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 - " Very well, then ; say that Mr. Newman thinks the 
 
 notions of a future hell of little efficacy ; and of a future 
 
 ! heaven of as little, except when it rises from ^ insight ' ; 
 
 1 — he confessing that he has not that ' insight,' and, 
 
 \ from the necessity of the case, not knowing whether 
 any body else has, it being a ' light outside him.' If so, 
 I think he is much like the rest of you, and cannot in 
 fact suppose the thought of a future life to operate 
 strongly either as a bribe or a menace." 
 
 r"**But surely, whatever his views, or those of any 
 ir.dividual, you must admit that a piety which is sus- 
 tained without any hopes of immortality is less selfish 
 than that which is." 
 
 " Why," replied I, laughing ; " J cannot conceive how 
 the hope of a virtuous immortality can produce a vi- 
 cious self-love. But if the hope and the consciousness 
 of happiness now exercise any influence at all, your ar- 
 gument proves too much ; and there is a simple impos- 
 sibility of being unselfishly religious at all." 
 
 " How so ? " 
 
 " Do you think that, admitting not only the uncer- 
 tainty of any future life, but the certainty that there 
 is none, and that nevertheless (as you affirm) man, 
 under that conviction, is just as capable of manifesting 
 a true devotion and piety towards God, any felicity 
 flows from his so doing ? " 
 
 " The highest, of course," said he. 
 
 " Do you think that the happiness so derived and 
 expected from day to day has any sinister influence on 
 the spiritual life of him who feels it ? " 
 
 " Of course, none." 
 
 " The contrary, perhaps ? " 
 
 " I think so." 
 t. ] " Then neither need tl e expectation of an eternity of 
 Buch blessedness be any impediment Again ; let us 
 
A FUTURE LIFE. 389 
 
 come to facts ; are not the declarations of those whom 
 Mr. Newman, however oddly, is willing to admit have 
 been the best specimens yet afforded of his true ' spir- 
 itual ' man, — the Doddridges, the Fletchers, the Bax- 
 ters, and Paul especially, — full of this sentiment? *I 
 desire to depart^ says Paul, ' and to be with Christ, 
 which is far better' ; and similar selfish hopes inspired 
 those excellent men whose names still rise spontane- 
 ously to Mr. Newman's memory when he would re- 
 mind us of examples of his ' spiritual religion ! Tell 
 me, do you not think Paul a ' spiritual' man? " 
 
 " Yes ; with all his hlunders^^ said Fellowes, " I do ; 
 and Mr. Newman's writings are full of that admission." 
 
 " Very true. But then Paul is so selfish, you know, 
 as to say, not merely that the immortality of man is 
 true, and that the * light afflictions which are but for a 
 moment' are to be despised, 6eca7i5e unworthy Ho be 
 compared with the glory to be revealed ' ; but that, if 
 immortality be not true, Christians, as deluded in such 
 hopes, are of all men most miserable. All this shows 
 how powerfully the ' spiritual ' Paul thought that the 
 doctrine of a future state operated and ought to operate 
 on the mind of a Christian ; he never supposed that it 
 could possibly have a negative, still less a sinister influ- 
 ence." 
 
 " But then, surely, what Mr. Newsman says is true, ) 
 that many of the saints of the Old Testament exempli- / 
 fied all the heroism of a true faith, and kindled with the 
 ardors of a true devotion, in an ignorance of any such 
 state, and the absence of all such expectations." 
 
 " I answer, that Mr. Newman too often speaks as if 
 his individual impressions were to be taken for demon- 
 stration. That the Old Testament is unpervaded by 
 any distinct traces of expectations of a future life is, at 
 all events, wo/ the opinion of the majority of men, many 
 
 33* 
 
390 
 
 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 of them at least as capable of judging as Mr. Newman. 
 It is not the opinion of the writers of the New Testa- 
 ment, that the Old Testament worthies were in this 
 deplorable darkness ; nor of the majority of the Jewish 
 interpreters of their ancestors' writings ; nor is it the 
 impression of the great majority of those who now read 
 them. How it can be the opinion of any one who 
 has not some hypothesis to serve, is to me a mystery. 
 Meanwhile Mr. Newman himself at least gives some 
 notable passages to the contrary^ though he chooses to 
 call them only personal aspirations. Think of the ab- 
 surdity, my good friend, of supposing that Job, David, 
 Isaiah, failed to realize a doctrine (imperfectly it may 
 be) which, as you truly affirm, has, in some shape or 
 other, animated all forms of religion I that these bright- 
 est specimens of ' spiritual religion ' in the ancient world 
 somehow missed what many of the lowest savages have 
 managed to stumble upon ! " 
 / " Well," he replied, " but, after all, he who loves God 
 / without any thought of heaven must surely be more 
 unselfish than he who hopes for it." 
 
 I laughed, — for I could not help it. 
 
 " Unhappy Paul!" interjected Harrington, who had 
 again entered the library ; " unhappy Paul ! burdened 
 with the hopes of immortality ; what an impediment 
 he must have found it in his Christian course! I won- 
 der he did not throw aside * this weight, which so easily 
 beset him.' Pity that when he became a Christian, 
 and ceased to be a Pharisee, he did not, like so many 
 * spiritual ' Christians of our day, know that, when he 
 became a Christian, he might still remain in one of the 
 Jewish sects, and turn Sadducee." 
 
 " Be it so," said Fellowes, " a Christian Sadducee, 
 cceteris paribus^ might perhaps be a more virtuous man 
 having no hopes of heaven by which he can possibly be 
 bribed." 
 
A FUTURE LIFE. Mft 
 
 " Religious lo^e and hope," said I, " will with diffi- 
 culty exist in such an atmosphere as you create. It is 
 a sublime altitude, doubtless, but no ordinary ' spiritual' 
 beings can breathe that rarefied air. It is for the honor 
 of Shaftesbury and some few other Deists, that they as- 
 pired to this transcendental virtue ! You are imitating 
 them. I fear you will not be more successful. Once 
 leave a man to conclude, or even to suspect, that he 
 and his cat end together, and, if a bad man, he will 
 gladly accept a release from every claim but that of his 
 passions and appetites (the effects being more or less 
 philosophically calculated according to his intellectual 
 power) ; while the best man would be liable to contem- 
 plate God and religion with a depressed and faltering 
 heart. He would be apt to lose all energy ; he would 
 feel it impossible to repress doubts of the infinite wis- 
 dom and benignity of Him (whatever he might think 
 of His power) who had given him the soul of a man 
 and the life of a butterfly ; conceptions and aspirationr 
 so totally disproportioned to the evanescence of his 
 being! If, however, you really think that the hopes 
 of an immortality of virtuous happiness will stand in 
 the way of a sublime disinterestedness of spirituality, 
 you ought to recollect that any expectation of happi- 
 ness, even for a day, will, in its measure, have the same 
 effect. So that the only way in which you can accom- 
 modate so ' spiritual a piety,' and absolutely insure your- 
 self against ' spiritual bribery,' is to deprive yourself of 
 all possibility of being so misled. If your piety would 
 be absolutely sure that it loves God on these sublime 
 terms, it should take care to neutralize the happiness 
 which that love brings with it; so that, if God has not 
 made you miserable, you should never fail, like the as- 
 cetics, to make yourself so. I fear you never can be 
 perfectly 'spiritual' till you have made yourself su- 
 
392 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 premely wretched. But to quit this point," I contin- 
 ued; "if immortality be a delusion, I fear we must 
 say that it covers the divine administration with an im- 
 penetrable cloud, — one which we cannot hope will be 
 removed. The inequalities of that administration can- 
 not be redressed." 
 
 " But do you not recollect," replied Fellowes, " the 
 reason Mr. Newman gives for despising any such miti 
 gation ? Does he not say, that it is a strange argument 
 for a day of recompense, that man has unsatisfied claims 
 upon God ? He says, * Christians have added an argu- 
 ment of their own for a future state, but, unfortunately? 
 one that cannot bring personal comfort or assurance. 
 A future state (it seems) is requisite to redress the in- 
 equalities of this life. And can I go to the Supreme 
 Judge, and tell Him that I deserve more happiness than 
 He has granted me in this life ? ' Do you not recollect 
 this ? — or has this sarcasm escaped you ? " 
 
 " It has not escaped me, — I remember it well ; but 
 it seems to have escaped you^ that it is a very transpar- 
 ent sophism. For what is it but a pretence that the 
 Christian in general is confident enough of his virtue 
 to think that he has not been sufficiently well treated, 
 and that his Creator and Judge cannot do less than 
 make amends for his injustice, by giving him compen- 
 sation in another world ? " 
 
 " And is not that the true statement of the case ? " 
 
 " I imagine not; whether men be Christians or other- 
 wise. The generality, when they reason upon this sub- 
 ject, (you and I, for example, at this very moment,) are 
 not at all considering the aspect of such a day upon 
 themselves ; how much they will lose if there be none ; 
 perhaps the bulk would wish that it could be proved 
 that it would never come ! It has been from a wish to 
 escape great speculative perplexities, connected with 
 
^ A FUTURE LIFE. 393 
 
 the divine administration, and not in relation to man's 
 deserts, that the question has been argued. When dic- 
 tated by other feelings, the conviction of a future state 
 has been quite as generally the utterance of remorse 
 and fear, the response of an accusing conscience, as of 
 hope and aspiration ; and derives, perhaps, a terrible 
 significance from that circumstance. But it has cer- 
 tainly not been, in the Christian, the result of any ab- 
 surd expectation of virtues to be rewarded, or rights to 
 be redressed. As to the Christian, though he feels that 
 he would not, and dare not, go to the divine tribunal 
 with any such absurd plea as Mr. Newman is pleased 
 to put into his mouth, — though he cannot impeach 
 the divine goodness, — he none the less feels that that 
 goodness, if this scene be all, is open to very grievous 
 impeachment in relation to millions who have suffered 
 much, and done no wrong, and to multitudes more who 
 have inflicted infinite wrong, and suffered next to noth- 
 ing ; and they would fain, if they could, get over diffi- 
 culties which Mr. Newman chooses, from the mere exi- 
 gencies of his theology, to represent as no difficulties 
 at all. To escape them or to solve them is the thing 
 principally in the minds of those who contend for a day 
 of recompense ; not the imaginary compensation of in- 
 dividual wrongs. I do contend that, if this world be 
 all, the divine administration in many points is more 
 hopelessly opposed to our moral instincts, and to all our 
 notions of equity and benevolence, than any thing on 
 which you spiritualists are accustomed to justify your 
 censure of Scripture. You ought, as Harrington says, 
 to go further." 
 
 ^ 
 
 July 80. I was much interested yesterday morning 
 by a conversation between Harrington and two pleasant 
 
394 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITk. 
 
 youths, acquaintances of Mr. Fellowes, both younger by 
 three or four years than either he or Harrington. They 
 are now at college, and have imbibed in different de- 
 grees that curious theory which, professedly recognizing 
 Christianity (as consigned to the New Testament) as a 
 truly divine revelation, yet asserts that it is intermingled 
 with a large amount of error and absurdity, and tells 
 each man to eliminate the divine < element' for himself. 
 According to this theory, the problem of eliciting re- 
 vealed truth may be said to be indeterminate ; the value 
 of the unknown x varies through all degrees of magni- 
 tude ; it is equal to any thing, equal to every thing, 
 equal to nothing, equal to infinity. 
 
 The whole party thought, with the exception of Har- 
 rington, who knew not what to think, that the " relig- 
 ious faculty or faculties " (one or many, — no man seems 
 to know exactly) are quite sufficient to decide all doubts 
 and difficulties in refigious matters. 
 ', Harrington knew not whether to say there was any 
 I truth in Christianity or not; Fellowes knew that there 
 ' was none, except in that " religious element," which is 
 found alike essentially in all religions ; that its miracles, 
 its inspiration, its peculiar doctrines, are totally false. 
 The young gentlemen just referred to believed "that 
 I it might be admitted that an external revelation was 
 j possible,''^ and "that the condition of man, considering 
 ' the aspects of his history, has not been altogether so 
 felicitous as to show that he never needed, and might 
 • not be benefited, by such light." I could cordially agree 
 with them so far; superabundance of religious illumi- 
 nation not being amongst the things of which human- 
 ity can legitimately complain. 
 
 But then, as they both believed that each man was 
 \o distil the " elixir vitse " for himself from the crude 
 iaass of truth and falsehood which the New Testament 
 
A VARIABLE QUANTITY. 395 
 
 presents, Harrington, with his interrogations, soon com- 
 pelled them to see how inconsistent they were both with 
 themselves and with one another. One of them be- 
 lieved, he said, that the Apostles might have been 
 favored by a true revelation ; but not in such a sense 
 " as to prevent their often falling into serious -errors," 
 wherever the distinctly " religious element " was not con- 
 cerned ; this was the only truly " divine " thing about 
 it ; but he saw no particular objection to receiving the 
 miracles ; at least some of them, — the best authenti- 
 cated and most reasonable ; perhaps they were of value 
 as part of the complex evidence needful to establish 
 doctrines which, if not absolutely transcendental to the 
 human faculties, — as the doctrine of a future life, for 
 example, — yet, apart from revelation, are but matter of 
 conjecture." 
 
 The other was also not unwilling to admit the mi- 
 raculous and inspired character of the revelation, but 
 contended, further, that the "religious element" was to 
 be submitted to human judgment as well as the rest ; 
 and that, if apparently absurd, contradictory, or perni- 
 cious, as judged by that infallible and ultimate standard, 
 it was to be rejected. 
 
 It was amusing to think that, in this little compai^^ 
 of three devout believers in the " internal oracle," no / 
 two thought alike ! After the two youths had frankly 
 stated their opinions, Harrington quietly said, " I should 
 much like to ask each of you a few questions. There 
 are certain difficulties connected with each hypothesis 
 just stated, on which I should be glad to receive some 
 light. I frankly confess beforehand, however, that I fear 
 that that curiously constructed book, which gives us all 
 so much trouble, — which will not allow me to ^d^y pos- 
 itively either that it is true or false, — will still less per- 
 mit you to reject a part or parts at your pleasure. It is, 
 
396 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 I must admit, a most independent book in that respect, 
 and treats your spiritual illumination most cavalierly. 
 ^ It says to youj " Receive me altogether, or reject me al- 
 yf^^ together, just as you please " ; and when men have re- 
 jected it altogether, it leaves them certain literary and 
 historical, and moral problems, in all fairness demand- 
 ing solution, which I doubt whether it is in our power 
 to solve, or to give any decent account of." 
 
 " What do you mean," said the younger of the two 
 youths, " by affirming that we are compelled to receive 
 the whole book, or to reject it all ? " 
 \ . " Let us see," said Harrington, " whether there is 
 I any consistent stopping-place between. It appears to 
 I me, that, whether by the most singular series of ' coin- 
 cidences,' or by immense subtlety of design, this book, 
 evidently composed by different hands, has yet its ma- 
 terials so interwoven, and its parts so reciprocally de- 
 pendent, that it is impossible to separate them, — to set 
 some aside, and say, ' We will accept these, and reject 
 those ' : just as, in certain textures, no sooner do we 
 Y begin to take out a particular thread, than we find it is 
 inextricably entangled with others, and those again with 
 others ; so that there immediately takes place a prodi- 
 gious * gathering ' at that point, and if we persevere, a 
 rent ; but the obstinate part at which we tug will not 
 come away alone. Whether it is so or not, we shall 
 soon see, by examining the results of the application of 
 your theories. I will begin with you," (addressing the 
 younger,) " because you believe least ; you say, I think, 
 that you admit the records of the New Testajpient con- 
 tain a real revelation, — a religious element, — and that 
 it has been authenticated to you by miracles and other 
 evidence ; but that the human mind is still the judge of 
 how much of that revelation is to be received, < and sits 
 in judgment ' on the * religious element as well as the 
 rest' " 
 
A VARIABLE QUANTITY. 397 
 
 The other assented. 
 
 " You admit, probably, the doctrine of the soul's im- 
 mortality as a part of that revelation, — perhaps even 
 the doctrine of a resurrection ? " 
 
 " I do, — both these doctrines." 
 
 " But perhaps you reject the idea of an * atonement,' 
 though you admit it to be in the Book? " 
 
 " Yes. At the same time it is contended by many 
 (as you are aware) that such a doctrine is not there." 
 
 " I am aware of it, of course ; but with them we have 
 no controversy here. They are consistent, so far as the 
 present argument goes ; as consistent as the orthodox 
 themselves. They do not allege a liberty of rejecting 
 what they admit the book does contain, but only deny 
 that it does contain some things which they reject. 
 They would admit that, if those doctrines be there, then 
 either they must concede them because authenticated 
 by the miracles and other evidence, which proves what 
 else they concede, or they must reject the said evidence 
 altogether, because it authenticated what they found it 
 impossible to concede. The controversy between them 
 and the orthodox is one of interpretation^ and is quite 
 different from that in which we are now engaged." 
 
 " I must admit it." 
 
 " They may go, then ? " said Harrington. 
 
 •« They may." 
 
 " You admit, then, the miraculous authentication of 
 such an event as the resurrection of man, but deny the 
 doctrine of the atonement, though equally found in the 
 said records ? " 
 
 " I do." 
 
 « May I ask why?" j 
 
 " Because the one doctrine does not seem to me tdy/ 
 contradict my * spiritual consciousness,* and the other^ / 
 does." 
 
398 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 " You receive the one, I suppose you will say, on 
 account of the miracles, and so on ; since, while not 
 contradicting your impressions of spiritual truth, it 
 could not be authenticated without external evidence ? '* 
 
 « Exactly so." 
 
 " But is not the other doctrine as much authenticated 
 by the miracles and so forth ? or have you any thing to 
 show that, while all those passages which relate to the 
 former are true assertions, as well as truly the assertions 
 of those who published the revelation, those which re- 
 late to the latter are not ? " 
 
 " I acknowledge I have not," replied the youth. 
 
 " Or supposing they are not their sayings at all, have 
 you any evidence by which you can show that they 
 are not, so as to separate them from those that are ? " 
 
 *' I must admit that I have no criterion of this kind." 
 
 " For aught you know, then, since you know nothing 
 of Christianity except from those documents in which 
 the miracles and the doctrines are alike consigned to 
 you, the said miracles, together with the other evidence, 
 do equally establish the truths which you say are a part 
 of divine revelation, and the errors which you say your 
 
 * spiritual faculty,' ' moral intuitions,' or what you will, 
 tells you that you are to reject. You believe, then, in 
 the force of evidence, which equally establishes truth 
 and falsenood ? " 
 
 " You can hardly expect me to admit that." 
 " But I expect you to answer a plain question ? " 
 " Why," said the youth, with a little flippancy, but 
 with a good-humored laugh too, " the proverb says^ 
 
 * Even a fool may ask questions which a wise man can- 
 not answer.' " 
 
 " I acknowledge myself to be a fool " said Harring- 
 ton, with a half serious, half comic air ; " and you shalJ 
 be the wise man who does not — for I wiL not say 
 cannot — answer the fool's question." 
 
A VARIABLE QUANTITY. 399 
 
 " I beg your pardon," said the other. " I acknowl- 
 edge that it was an uncourteous expression." 
 
 " Enough said," replied Harrington ; " and now, since 
 you are not pleased to answer my question, I w41I an- 
 swer it myself ; and I say, it is plain that the evidence 
 to which you refer does affirm equally the truths you 
 declare thus revealed to you, and the errors you declare 
 you must reject. Now either the evidence is not suffi- 
 cient to prove the owe, or it is sufficient to prove both. 
 So far, then, I think we may say, and say justly, that 
 the supposed revelation is so constructed that you can- 
 not accept a part and reject a part, on such a theory. 
 But to make the case a little plainer still, if possible. 
 There have been men, you know, who have taken pre- 
 cisely opposite views of the two doctrines you have 
 mentioned ; who have declared that the doctrine, not 
 of man's immortality, but of the resurrection, so far 
 from being conceivable, is, in their judgment, a physi- 
 cal contradiction ; but who have also declared that the 
 doctrine of atonement^ in some shape, is instinctively 
 taught by human nature, and has consequently foimed 
 a part of almost every religion ; that it is in analogy 
 with many singular facts of this world's constitution, 
 and is not absolutely contradicted by any principle oi 
 our nature, intellectual or moral. Such a man, there- 
 fore, might take the very opposite of the course you 
 have taken. He would proceed upon your common 
 basis of a miraculously confirmed revelation, grossly 
 infested with errors and falsehoods ; he might say that 
 he believed the authentication of the doctrine of * atone- 
 ment ' in virtue of the evidence, because, though tran- 
 scendental to his reason, it was not repugnant to it ; 
 but that he rejected the doctrine of the * resurrection/ 
 though equally established by the evidence, because 
 contrary to the plainest conclusions of his reason." 
 
THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 " I cannot in candor deny," said the other, " the pos- 
 sibility of such a case." 
 
 " And in such a case, we might say, he does the very 
 opposite of what you do." 
 
 " Neither can I help admitting that." 
 
 " The miracles, then, and other evidence, not only 
 play the part of equally supporting truth and falsehood, 
 but, what is still more wonderful, convert the same 
 things, in different men, into truth and falsehood alter- 
 nately. Miracles they must verily be if they can do 
 that ! A wonderful revelation it certainly is, which 
 thus accommodates itself to the varying conditions of 
 the human intellect and conscience, and demonstrates 
 just so much as each of you is pleased to accept, and 
 no more. No doubt the whole * corpus dogmatum,' so 
 supported, will, by the entire body of such believers, be 
 eaten up ; just as was the Mahometan hog, so humor- 
 ously referred to by Cowper ; but even that had iiot all 
 its * forbidden parts' miraculously shown to be 'unfor- 
 bidden' to different minds ! I do not wonder that such 
 a revelation should need miracles ; that any should be 
 sufficient^ is the greatest wonder of all ; if indeed we 
 except two; — the first, that Supreme Wisdom should 
 have constructed such a curioas revelation, in which he 
 has revealed alternately, to different people, truth and 
 falsehood, and has established each on the very same 
 evidence; and the second (almost as great), that any 
 rational creature should be got to receive such a reve- 
 lation on such evidence as equally applies to points 
 which he says it does not prove, and to points which 
 he says it does; these points, however, being, it ap- 
 pears, totally different in different men ! But I will 
 now go to your friend, who has got a point further in 
 his belief, and graciously accepts all the ' religious ele- 
 ments ' in this revelation." 
 
A VARIABLE QUANTITY. 401 
 
 " Excuse me," said the last ; " before you go to him, 
 permit me to mention a difficulty which occurred to me 
 while we were speaking." 
 
 " By all means ; but I do ii ot promise to solve it. 
 Perhaps I on this occasion shall prove the ' wise man,' 
 though I am sure you will not be the fool." 
 
 " You recollect," said the other, blushing, " our dis- 
 missing those who, while contending, like myvself, that 
 such and such doctrines are to be rejected^ differ from 
 me in this, that they contend that the said doctrines are 
 not contained in the records of the supposed revelation 
 at all ; while others contend that they are. Now, if, 
 while the two parties admit the general evidence which 
 is to substantiate all that is in the records, they arrive 
 by different interpretation at such very different results 
 as to the supposed truth which it supports, are they in 
 any better condition than I ? There is the same differ- 
 ence, though arrived at in different ways ; and the reve- 
 lation still remains indeterminate." 
 
 " Your objection is ingenious," replied Harrington. 
 " First, however, it is rather hard to ask me to solve a 
 difficulty with which I am in no way concerned, who 
 profess to be altogether sceptical on the subject. Sec- 
 ondly, it certainly does not at all mend your case to 
 prove that there are other men who possibly are as in- 
 consistent as yourself. It makes your theory neither 
 better nor worse. But, thirdly, if I were a Christian^ I 
 should not hesitate to contend that there was an ob- 
 vious and vital difference in the two cases." 
 
 " Indeed ! If you can show thaU^ 
 
 " I should attempt it, at aL events. I should say thai 
 in the latter case the evidence to which the appeal was 
 made did not equally serve to establish truth and false- 
 hood, or, what is still worse, alternately to make false^ 
 hood truth, and truth falsehood, to different minds ; that 
 
 34* 
 
402 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 it was designed to establish all that was really in the 
 records, though what that all was might give rise to 
 different views, from the prejudices and the ignorance, 
 the different degrees of intelligence and candor, on the 
 part of those who interpreted the records; that they 
 made the falsehoods, and not the records or the evi- 
 dence. I should, therefore, have no difficulty in rela- 
 tion to what, on your theory, is so incomprehensible; 
 namely, that God should have given man so peculiarly 
 constructed a revelation. That men should differ or 
 err in its interpretation is not, I presume, very wonder- 
 ful, because man, they say^ is a creature of prejudice 
 and passion as well as reason." 
 
 " But God would still have given the revelation, and 
 yet it is capable, it appears, of being variously inter- 
 preted ! " said the other. 
 
 " Very true, and it is very plain to me that, supposing 
 him to have given any^ he could have given no other, 
 unless his omnipotence had been immediately exerted 
 separately upon each individual of the human race, and 
 then in such a way as to supersede all the moral dis- 
 cipline which Christians affirm is involved in its recep- 
 tion. Supposing this discipline (as those who believe 
 in a revelation contend) to be an essential condition, I 
 cannot conceive God himself to give a document which 
 man's ingenuity cannot easily misinterpret. You see 
 man plays the same trick equally well with that faculty 
 of ' spiritual insight,' which some say is the sole source 
 of religious truth, and which you say is the sole arbiter 
 of an external revelation ! We cannot find two of you 
 who think alike, or who will give us the same transcript 
 of religious truth. Similarly, we see the same inge- 
 nuity manifested by man whenever it is his interest to 
 find in a document a different meaning from that which 
 it apparently carries on its face. Does not the endless 
 
A VARIABLE QUANTITY. 
 
 403 
 
 controversy, the perpetual litigation of men, respecting 
 the meaning of seemingly the plainest documents, assure 
 us that, if a revelation were really given, the like would 
 be possible with that ? It is doubtful with me, there- 
 fore, whether God himself could give a revelation, such 
 that men could not misrepresent and pervert it; that is, 
 as long as they were rational creatures," he continued^ 
 bitterly. "But the mischief of your theory is, that it 
 charges the inevitable result of man's perverseness or 
 ignorance on God, and the revelation he has been sup- 
 posed to construct, and that is to me an absurdity." 
 
 " I do not see that these answers are satisfactory," 
 said the other. 
 
 " I must leave you to judge of that," said Harrington, 
 " or to contest it with my uncle here. I am keeping 
 my next friend waiting, who, I can see, is impatient to 
 run a course in favor of his view of revelation. He tells 
 us, too, that a divine revelation, as conveyed in the New 
 Testament, is to be admitted, but he cannot away with 
 the notion that its certainty extends to any thing more 
 than to what he calls the ' religious element.' Is not 
 that your notion ? " 
 
 " It is." 
 
 " You think, for example, that it is possible that the 
 Apostles and writers of the New Testament (in fact, 
 whoever had the charge of recording and transmitting 
 to posterity the doctrines of this revelation) were left 
 liable, just as any other men, to all sorts of errors, geo- 
 graphical, chronological, logical, historical, political, 
 moral " 
 
 " No, no, not moral," said the other; " I did not say 
 moral : their morality is implied in their theology." 
 
 " O, very well! we shall better see that presently; 
 only I have to remind you, for the glory of your Ration- 
 alism, that other Rationalists make the errors extend 
 
404 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 even to the ' moral element ' ; but it is all one to me. 
 You say, that, as far as regards every thing else, it is 
 very possible that these * inspired' men might err to 
 any amount ? " 
 p.,^^;" Yes; I believe it." 
 
 \" You have, doubtless, some reason for saying that 
 they were made infallible in religion and morality, but 
 liable to all sorts of errors on other subjects ? " 
 
 " Nothing but this ; that, if to give us ' spiritual truth ' 
 (as is supposed) was their proper function (and we can- 
 not but suppose that it was), they must have been in- 
 vested (we must suppose) with all the necessary quali- 
 ties for this end, since I am supposing that even miracles 
 were thought worth working in order to confirm their 
 doctrine." 
 
 " You use the word suppose rather frequently, my 
 friend ; however, I will not quarrel with you for that ; 
 only you ought not to be surprised if, adopting your 
 last supposition, — that, when miracles and inspiration 
 have been supposed to be vouchsafed to authenticate a 
 particular revelation, all such endowments, at least, will 
 be granted as shall secure that object from defeat, — 
 other Christians further suppose that the documents in 
 which the revelation was to be consigned to all future 
 ages would not be disfigured (and in many respects 
 obscured) by the liability of their authors to all sorts of 
 errors on an infinity of points, hopelessly entangled, as 
 we shall soon see, with this one ! that when heaven was 
 >1 at the trouble to embark its cargo of diamonds and 
 » pearls for this world, it would not send them in a vessel 
 with a great hole in the bottom ! If the Apostles were 
 plenarily inspired with regard to this one subject, men 
 will think it strange, perhaps, that divine aid should 
 not have gone a little further, and since the destined 
 revelation was to be recorded or rather imbedded, in 
 
A VARIABLE QT'ANTITY. 405 
 
 history^ illustrated by imagirMion^ enforced by argu- 
 ment, and expressed in human language, — its authors 
 should have been left liable to destroy the substance by 
 egregious and perpetual blunders as to the form ; to run 
 the chance of knocking out the brains of the unfortu- 
 nate revelation by upsetting the vehicle in which it was 
 to be conveyed I " 
 
 " But, then, these supposed endowments are purely a 
 supposition on the part of Christians in general." 
 
 " Just as yours, we may say, of an indefectible wis- 
 dom on one point is a supposition on your part. I 
 think in that respect that you are both well matched. 
 But I freely confess that I think their supposition more 
 plausible than yours ; and, if I were an advocate for 
 Christianity, I should certainly rather suppose with them 
 than suppose with you ; that is, I should think it more 
 credible, if God interposed with such stupendous in- 
 struments as miracles, inspiration, and prophecy at all, 
 he would endow the men thus favored (not with all 
 knowledge, indeed, but) with whatever was necessary 
 to prevent their encountering a certainty of vitiating 
 their testimony." 
 
 " But how would their testimony be liable to be 
 vitiated ? I am supposing them to be absolutely free 
 from error as regards the religious element, which they 
 deliver pure." 
 
 '•We shall see in a minute whether their testimony 
 
 V as liable to be vitiated or not, and whether the sepa- 
 
 ation for which you contend be conceivable, or even 
 
 possible. I fear that you have no winnowing-fan which 
 
 will separate the chaff from the wheat." 
 
 " To me, nothing seems more easy than the supposi- 
 tion I have made." 
 
 " Few things are more easy than to make supposi- 
 tions ; but let us see. I am sure you will answer as 
 
406 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 fairly as I shall ask questions. To do otherwise would 
 be to separate the * moral element ' from the * logical,' 
 whatever the New Testament writers may have done. 
 You believe, you say, in the resurrection of Christ ? '' 
 
 " I do." 
 
 " As difact or doctrine ? " c/.f^TOf75 uTwt: 
 
 " Both as a fact and doctrine." "^-f—^-"'-*^ •-»►!> 
 
 " For it is both, if true," said Harrington ; " and so, 
 I apprehend, it will be found with the other doctrines 
 of Christianity. Whether, in your particular latitude 
 of Rationalism, you believe many or few of them, still, 
 if true at all (which we at present take for granted), 
 they are hoih. facts and doctrines^ from the Incarnation 
 to the Resurrection. But to confine ourselves to owe, — 
 that of the Resurrection, — for one will answer my pur- 
 pose as well as a thousand ; — that, you say, is a fact, 
 — ^fact of history ? " 
 
 " It is." 
 
 " It is, then, conveyed to us as such ? " 
 
 « Certainly." 
 
 " Were the recorders of that fact liable to error in 
 conveying it to us ? In other words, might they so 
 blunder in conveying that fact (as we know the unaided 
 historian may, and often does) as to leave us in just 
 doubt whether it ever took place or not ? " 
 
 " Well," said the youth, " and you know they have 
 exhibited it in such a way as to suggest many apparent 
 discrepancies, and those very difficult to be reconciled." 
 
 " I am aware of it, and for that very reason selected 
 this particular fact. In my judgment, there are no 
 passages which more exercise the ingenuity of the har- 
 monists than those which record the transactions con- 
 nected with the resurrection. But still, in spite of 
 them all, I presume that you do not think that those 
 discrepancies really call the fact in question, else you 
 
A VARIABLE QUANTITY. ''^^$9 
 
 would not continue to believe it. I should then sud- 
 denly find myself arguing with a very different person." 
 
 " Certainly, you are quite right. I agree that the 
 substantial facts are as the writers have delivered them ; 
 although they may, from their liability to error, have 
 delivered some of the details erroneously." 
 
 " But might this liability to error have led them a lit- 
 tle further in their discrepancies, so as to involve the 
 fact itself in just doubt, and so of other great facts 
 which constitute the doctrines as well as the facts of 
 Scripture ? " 
 
 " Of course, I think it might, since I suppose them 
 unaided by any supernatural wisdom in this respect." 
 
 " The answer is honest. I thought, perhaps, you 
 would have answered differently, in which case you 
 would have given me the trouble of pursuing the argu- 
 ment one step further. It appears, then, that, though 
 inspired to give mankind a true statement of doctrines,, 
 yet that, when these doctrines assume the form of facts 
 (which, unhappily, they do perpetually), this hazardous 
 liability to error as historians may counteract their in- 
 spiration, and they may give them in such a form as to 
 throw upon them all manner of doubts and suspicions ; 
 possibly they have done so, for aught you can tell. — 
 But, again, you also affirm that these so-called inspired 
 men were liable to make all sorts of logical blunders, 
 just as the uninspired." 
 
 " Certainly ; and I must confess I think the logic of 
 the Apostle Paul, in particular, often exceedingly ab- 
 surd." 
 
 " Very fair and candid. For example, I dare say 
 that you do not think much of his arguments or infer- 
 ences from certain doctrines ; or his proofs of those doc- 
 trines from the Old Testament or " 
 
 " They are not, indeed, worth much in my estima- 
 tion." 
 
408 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 " Candid again ; but then it is plain, first, that you 
 will have to distinguish between the pure doctrines 
 which Paul derived from a celestial source, and his 
 erroneous proofs or inferences, which are delivered in 
 precisely the same manner and with the same assump- 
 tion of authority. And this, I think, w^ould be an in- 
 superable task ; at least, it seems so, for you Rational- 
 ists decide this matter very differently. When any of 
 you favor me with your sketches of the true heaven- 
 descended Pauline theology, I find them widely differ- 
 ent from each other. Your ' religious element ' is of the 
 most variable volume. Some of you include nearly the 
 w^hole creed of ordinary orthodoxy ; others, fifty or even 
 eighty per cent, less, both in bulk and weight." 
 
 " Perhaps so." 
 
 " Perhaps so I But then, what becomes of your prin- 
 ciple, that you may separate the pure ' religious ele- 
 ment,' as conveyed to the minds of the sacred writers 
 by direct illumination, from the errors of vicious logic 
 which have been permitted to mingle with it? To me, 
 it appears any thing but easy to separate the functions 
 of a revealer of truli/ inspired truth from the vitiating 
 influences of a fallacious logic. The ' heavenly vision,' 
 however ' obedient ' a Paul may be to it, will be but 
 obscurely represented, and suffer egregiously from that 
 distorted image which the ill-constructed mirror will 
 convey to us. — But once more, I think you do not hold 
 Paul's rhetoric to be always of the first excellence ? " 
 
 " Certainly not ; I think his representations are often 
 as faulty as his logic is vicious ; especially when, under 
 the influence of his Jewish education, he throws old 
 Gamaliel's mantle over his shoulders, and dotes about 
 * allegories ' founded on the Old Testament." 
 
 " Fair and candid once more ; but then, I suppose, 
 you will admit that the divine truths which he was, 
 
A VARIABLE QUANTITY. 409 
 
 nevertheless, commissioned to teach mankiijd, will, like 
 any other truths, be much affected by the mode in 
 which they are represented to the imagination; will 
 become brighter or more obscure, more animated or 
 more feeble, and even more just or distorted, as this 
 task is wisely and judiciously, or preposterously per- 
 formed? " 
 " No doubt." 
 
 " Then it appears, I think, that, if there were noth- 
 ing to control the Apostle Paul's manner of exhibiting 
 divine verities, even in relation only to the imagina- 
 tion, there might be all the difference between sober 
 truth and fanatical perversions of it. I might, in the 
 same manner, proceed to show that the feeling's, uncon- 
 trolled by a superior influence, would be also likely to 
 give distortion or exaggeration to the doctrines. But 
 it is enough. It appears very plain, that, according to 
 pour hypothesis, even though the Apostles were com- 
 missioned to teach by supernatural illumination certain 
 truths, yet that, being liable to be infected with all the 
 faults of false history, bad logic, vicious rhetoric, fa- 
 natical feeling, these divine truths might, possibly, be 
 most falsely presented to us. We have, really, no 
 guaranty but your gratuitous * supposition ' that they 
 have been taught at all. We have no criterion for 
 separating what is thus divine from what is merely 
 human. I fear, therefore, your distinction will not hold. 
 The stream, whatever the crystal purity of its fountain, 
 could not fail to be horribly impure by the time it had 
 flowed through such foul conduits." 
 
 " In short," continued Harrington, with a bitter smile 
 at the same time, " there are but three consistent char- 
 acters in the world ; the Bible Christian, and the gen- 
 uine Atheist, — or the absolute Sceptic." 
 
 " No, — no, — no," exclaimed the whole trio at once ; 
 
 35 
 
410 Tftfi EdLlPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 " and you yourself must be true to your principles, and 
 therefore sceptical as to this." 
 
 " It is," he replied, " one of the very few things 
 which I am not sceptical about. At all events, right or 
 wrong, I am, as usual, willing to give you my reasons 
 for my belief." 
 
 " Rather say your doubtSj'^ said Fellowes. 
 
 " Well, for my doubts^ then. You see, my friends, 
 the matter is as follows. The Christian speaks on this 
 wise : — 
 .^ " * I find, in reference to Christianity as in reference 
 to Theism, what appears to me an immense preponder- 
 ance of evidence of various kinds in favor of its truth ; 
 y but both alike I find involved in many difficulties 
 which I acknowledge to be insurmountable, and in 
 many mysteries which I cannot fathom. I believe the 
 conclusions in spite of them. As to the revelation, I 
 see some of its discrepancies are the effect of transcrip- 
 tion and corruption ; others are the result of omissions 
 of one or more of the writers, which, if supplied, would 
 show that they are apparent only; of others, I can 
 suggest no explanations at all ; and, over and above 
 these, I see difficulties of doctrine which I can no 
 , more profess to solve than I can the parallel perplex- 
 ities in Nature and Providence, and especially those 
 involved in the permitted phenomenon of an infinity 
 of physical and moral evil. As to these difficulties, I 
 simply submit to them, because I think the rejection 
 of the evidence for the truths which they embarrass 
 would involve me in a much greater difficulty. With 
 regard to many of the difficulties, in both cases, I see 
 that the progress of knowledge and science is con- 
 tinually tending to dissipate some, and to diminish, if 
 not remove, the weight of others : I see that a dawning 
 light now glimmers on many portions of the void where 
 
A VARIABLE QUANTITY. 411 
 
 continuous darkness once reigned; though that very 
 light has also a tendency to disclose other difficulties ; 
 for, as the sphere of knowledge increases, the outline of 
 darkness beyond also increases, and increases even in a 
 greater ratio. But I also find, I frankly admit, that on 
 many of my difficulties, and especially that connected 
 with the origin of evil, and other precisely analogous 
 difficulties of Scripture, no light whatever is cast: to 
 the solution of them, man has not made the slightest 
 conceivable approximation. These things I submit to, 
 as an exercise of my faith and a test of my docility, 
 and that is all I have to say about them ; you will not 
 alter my views by dwelling on them, for your sense of 
 them cannot be stronger than mine.^ Thus speaks the 
 Christian; and the Atheist and the Sceptic occupy 
 ground as consistent. They say, ' "We agree with you 
 Christians, that the Bible contains no greater difficulties 
 than those involved in the inscrutable " constitution and 
 course of nature " ; but on the very principles on which 
 the Rationalist, or Spiritualist, or Deist, or whatever he 
 pleases to call himself, rejects the divine origin of the 
 former, we are compelled to go a few steps further, and 
 deny — or doubt — the divine origin of the latter. It 
 is true that the Bible presents no greater difficulties 
 than the external universe and its administration ; (it 
 cannot involve greater;) bat if those difficulties are 
 sufficient to justify the denial or doubt of the divine 
 authorship of the one, they are sufficient to justify de- 
 nial or doubt about the divine origin of the other.' - - 
 But as to you^ what consistent position can you take, 
 so long as you affirm and deny so capriciously ? who 
 * strain at the gnats' of the Bible, and 'swallow the 
 camels ' of your Natural Religion ? You ought, on the 
 principle on which you reject so much of the Bible,— ^ 
 namely, that it does not harmonize with the deductions 
 
 i) 
 
^SBS TnrE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 of your mtellect, the instincts of conscience, the intu- 
 itions of the ' spiritual faculty,' and Heaven knows what, 
 - — to become Manichaeans at the least." 
 • ^ " But these very arguments," said one of the youths, 
 / '"are just the old-fashioned arguments of Butler, which 
 \ it is surelydroll of all things to find el sceptic making 
 \jase of." 
 
 " I admit they are his, my friend ; but not that there 
 is any inconsistency in mi/ employing them. I affirm 
 that Butler is quite right in his premises, though I may 
 reject the conclusion to which he would bring me. He 
 leaves two alternatives, and only two, in my judgment, 
 open ; leaves two parties untouched ; one is the Chris- 
 tian, and the other is the Atheist or the Sceptic, which- 
 ever you please; but I am profoundly convinced he 
 does not leave a consistent footing for any thing be- 
 tween. His fire does not injure the Christian, for it 
 comes out of his own camp ; nor me, for it falls short 
 of my lines ; but for you, who have pitched your tents 
 between, take heed to yourselves. He proves clearly 
 enough, that the very difficulties for which you reject 
 Christianity exist equally, sometimes to a still greater 
 amount, in the domain of nature." 
 
 "Oh !" said the youngest, "we do not think that 
 Butler's argument is soundP 
 
 " Then," said Harrington, " the sooner you refute it 
 the better. All you have to do is, just to show that 
 this world does not exhibit the inequalities, — the mis- 
 eries, — the apparent caprice in its administration, — 
 the involuntary ignorance, — the enormous wrongs, — 
 the wide-spread sorrows and death, — it does. You 
 will do greater service to the Deist than the whole of 
 his tribe have ever done him yet. I am convinced that 
 Butler is not to be refuted." 
 ^' " But do you not recollect what no less a man than 
 
 L 
 
A VARIABLE QUANTITY. 413 
 
 Pitt said, — * Analogy is an argument so easily retort- 
 ed I ' " replied the same youth. 
 
 " Then you will have the less difficulty in retorting 
 it," said Harrington, coolly. " Pitt's observation only 
 shows that he had forgotten the true object of the work, 
 or never understood it. For the purposes of refutation^ 
 it does not follow that an analogy may be easily retort- 
 ed; it may be, and often is, irresistible. It is when 
 employed to establish a truth, not to expose an error, 
 that it is often feeble. If Butler had attempted to 
 prove that the inhabitants of Jupiter must be miserable, 
 nothing could have been more ridiculous than to ad- 
 duce the analogy of our planet. But if he merely 
 wished to show that it did not follow that that beautiful 
 orb, being created by infinite power, wisdom, and good- 
 ness, must be an abode of happiness, (just the Ration- 
 alist style of reasoning,) it would be quite sufficient 
 to introduce the speculator to this ill-starred planet of 
 ours." 
 
 There are few who will not acquiesce in this remark 
 of Harrington's, however they may lament the alterna- 
 tive he seemed disposed to take. Assuredly, for the 
 specific object in view, no book written by man was 
 ever more conclusive than that of Butler. For if you 
 can show to an unbeliever in Christianity, who is yet 
 (as most are) a T heist, that any Qbiection derived from 
 its apparent repugnance to wisdom or goodness applies 
 equally to the " constitution and course of nature," you 
 do fairly compel him (as long as he remains a Theist) 
 to admit that that objection ought not to have weight 
 with him. He has indeed an alternative ; that of 
 Atheism or Scepticism ; but it is clear he must give up 
 either his argument or his — Theism. It may be called, 
 indeed, an argument ad hominem ; but as almost every 
 unbeliever in Christianity is a man of the above stamp, 
 35 • 
 
7^ 
 
 414 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 it is of wide application. This is the fair issue to 
 which Butler brings the argument; -and the conclusive- 
 ness of his logic has been shown in this, that, how- 
 ever easily " analogies " may be " retorted," the parties 
 affected by it have never answered it. I was amused 
 with the criticism with which Harrington wound up. 
 " Butler," said he, " v^Tote but little ; but when read- 
 ing him, I have often thought of Walter Scott's old 
 wolf-dog Maida, who seldom was tempted to join in 
 the bark of his lesser canine associates. ' He seldom 
 opens his mouth,' said his master; *but when he 
 does, he shakes the Eildon Hills. Maida is like the 
 great gun at Constantinople, — it takes a long time to 
 load it; but when it does go off, it goes off for some- 
 thing!'" 
 
 Aug-. 1. I this day put into Mr. Fellowes's hands 
 the brief notes on the three questions on which he had 
 solicited my opinion. They were as follows : — 
 
 I. Mr. Newman says that it is an idle boast that the 
 elevation of woman is in any high degree attributable 
 to the Gospel. " In point of fact," says he, " Christian 
 doctrine, as propounded by Paul, is not at all so hon- 
 orable to woman as that which German soundness of 
 heart has established. With Paul the sole reason for 
 marriage is that a man may without sin vent his sen- 
 sual desires." 
 
 If, indeed, there were no other passage in the New 
 Testament than that to which Mr. Newman refers, there 
 might be something to be said for him. But it is only 
 one of many, and the question really at issue is conse- 
 quently blinked, namely. What is the aspect of the entire 
 New Testament institute upon the relations of woman ? 
 It is true, indeed, that the reason for marriage which 
 
DISCUSSION OF THREE QUESTIONS. 415 
 
 Mr. Newman contends is the only thing Paul thought 
 about, is very properly urged ; for from the constitution 
 of human nature, (as every comprehensive philosopher 
 and legislator would admit,) as well as from the hor- 
 rible condition of th ngs where marriage is neglected, 
 prominence is very j istly given to the preservation of 
 chastity as one of the primary objects of the institution. 
 But the question as between Mr. Newman and Chris- 
 tianity is this : Is this the only aspect under which the 
 relations of man and woman are represented to us? 
 That every thing is not said in one passage is true 
 enough. From the desultory manner in which the 
 ethics as well as doctrines of the New Testament are 
 expounded to us, and especially from the casual form 
 which they assume in the Apostolic Epistles, where the 
 particular circumstances of the parties addressed natu- 
 rally suggested the degree of prominence given to each 
 topic, we must fairly examine the whole volume in or- 
 der to comprehend the spirit of the whole, and not take 
 up a solitary passage as though it were the only one. 
 Now, if we examine other passages, we cannot fail to 
 see that the New Testament consecrates married life by 
 enjoining the utmost purity, devotion, and tenderness 
 of affection. Look at only one or two of the passages 
 in which the New Testament enjoins the reciprocal du 
 ties of husbands and wives ; what sort of model it pro- 
 poses for their love. " Husbands, love your wives, even 
 as Christ also loved the Church and gave himself for 
 
 it Let every one in particular so love his wife 
 
 even as himself; and the wife see that she reverence 
 her husband. So ought men to love their wives as 
 their own bodies, .... giving honor unto the wife fts 
 unto the weaker vessel, and as being heirs together ot 
 the grace of life." 
 
 Is this like condemning women to be " elegant toys 
 and voluptuous appendages " ? 
 
416 JW THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 Admitting, for the sake of argument, that the whole 
 of Christianity is a delusion ; that Christ never lived, 
 and therefore never died; that he is a more palpable 
 myth than even Dr. Strauss contends for; still it is im- 
 possible not to see that the writers of the New Testa- 
 ment represent his love for man as the ideal of pure, 
 disinterested, self-sacrificing affection ; this appears 
 whether we listen to the words which the Evangelists 
 have put into his mouth, or those in which they have 
 spoken of him. " Greater love hath no man than this, 
 that a man lay dowirhis life for his friends." Now, let 
 there be as much or as little historic truth in such state- 
 ments, in the doings and sufferings of Christ on behalf 
 of humanity, as you will, the conclusion is irresistible 
 ^ that his conduct (real or imaginary) is set forth as the 
 p exhibition of unequalled patience, gentleness, meek- 
 ness, and forbearance ; of a love anxious to purchase, 
 at the dearest cost, the purest and highest happiness of 
 its objects. Now such is the pattern of affection which 
 the Apostles commend to the imitation of " husbands 
 and wives" in their conduct towards one another. 
 Such is to be the lofty standard which their love is to 
 emulate. Is it possible to go further ? Does not the 
 fantastical observance, or rather the absolute idolatry 
 of women cherished by chivalry, — itself, however, 
 rooted in the influences of a corrupt Christianity, — 
 look like a caricature beside the picture? And who 
 are the " poets of Germanic culture " who have risen to 
 an equal ideal of the reciprocal duties and sentiments 
 of wedded life ? I must contend that so beautiful a 
 picture of a real equality between man and woman, — 
 fpjanded on the love of the common Lord of both, — 
 such a picture of woman's true elevation, was never 
 realized in the ancient world, nor would have been to 
 this day had not Christianity been promulgated ; nor is 
 
DCSCUSSION OF THREE QUESTIONS. 417 
 
 now^ except where Christianity is known, though, alas ! 
 not always where it is. But if you think otherwise, 
 beg Mr. Newman to give you a catena of passages 
 from the " poets of Germanic culture " (he has not ad- 
 duced a syllable in proof) ; and recollect it ought to be 
 from Germanic poets who lived before the Germans 
 were Christians I Or perhaps you would wish to seek 
 the Germanic " sentiment " towards woman pure in its 
 source, as given in the certainly not unfavorable esti- 
 mate of Tacitus. In their respect for woman and the 
 stress they laid on chastity, the ancient Germans tran- 
 scended without doubt many savages. Still, few read- 
 ers will suppose there was much reason to boast of the 
 elevation of women, or the presence of much refined 
 " sentiment " between the sexes ! As long as women 
 do all the drudgery of house dindi field work, while their 
 lazy husbands drink and gamble ; as long as they are 
 liable (and their children too) to be sold or put on the 
 hazard of a cast of the dice ; as long as they are them- 
 selves ferocious enough to go out to battle with their 
 husbands ; I presume you will think the " Germanic 
 culture " very far short of the " culture " likely to be 
 produced by the New Testament! Well says Gibbon, 
 " Heroines of such a cast may claim admiration ; but 
 they were most assuredly neither lovely nor very sus- 
 ceptible of love." 
 
 II. Mr. Newman says, that undue credit has been 
 claimed for Christianity as the foe and extirpator of 
 slavery. He says that, at this day, the " New Testa- 
 ment is the argumentative stronghold of those who are 
 trying to keep up the accursed system." Would it not 
 have been candid to add, that the New Testament has 
 ever been also the stronghold of those who oppose it, as 
 well in this country as in America ? It is on the express 
 ground ot its supposed inconsistency with the maxims 
 
418 W' THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 and spirit of Christianity, that the great mass of Aboli- 
 tionists hate and loathe it. A public clamor against it 
 was never raised in the days of ancient slavery, nor is 
 now in any country where Christianity is unknown. 
 The oppositici.ri to it in our own country was a religious 
 one; that we ^now full well; and so is the opposition 
 of the American Abolitionists at the present day. If 
 selfish cupidity, on the one hand, appeals to the New 
 Testament for its continuance, so does philanthropy, on 
 the other, for its abolition ; and though in my judgment 
 the inferences of the latter are far more reasonable, the 
 mere fact that both parties appeal to the book shows 
 that the New Testament neither sanctions it — rather 
 the contrary by implication — nor expressly denounces 
 it ; — Mr. Newman doubtless can do it safely. This 
 very moderation of language, however, has to many 
 minds, and those of no mean capacity, (the late Dr. 
 Chalmers for example,) been regarded as an indication 
 of the wisdom which has presided over the construction 
 of the New Testament ; it was not only a tone peremp- 
 torily demanded by the necessary conditions of publish- 
 ing Christianity at all, but was best adapted, — nay, 
 alone adapted, — in the actual condition of the world 
 in relation to slavery, to make any salutary impression. 
 Admitting that the great, the primary end of the 
 Gospel was spiritual; that it was the object of the 
 A-postles to obtain for it a dispassionate hearing among 
 all nations ; and that, however they might hope indi- 
 rectly to affect the temporal prosperity and political 
 welfare of mankind, all good of this kind was in their 
 view subordinate to that spiritual amelioration, which, 
 if affected, would necessarily involve all inferior social 
 and political improvements; — I say, admitting this, it 
 is really difficult to imagine any other course open to a 
 wise choice thai i that which was actually adopted. I 
 
DISCUSSION OP THREE QUESTIONS. 419 
 
 contend, that in not passionately denouncing slavery, 
 and in contenting themselves with quietly depositing 
 those principles and sentiments which, while achieving 
 objects infinitely more important, would infallibly abol- 
 ish it, the Apostles took the wisest course, even with 
 relation to this latter object, — though it was doubtless 
 not the course into which a blind fanaticism would 
 have plunged. To enter upon an open crusade against 
 slavery in that age would have been to render the 
 preaching of the Gospel a simple impossibility, and to 
 convert a professedly moral and spiritual institute into 
 an engine of political agitation ; it would have afforded 
 the indignant governments of the world — quite prompt 
 enough to charge it with seditious tendencies — a plau- 
 sible pretext for its suppression. Both the primary and 
 the secondary objects would have been sacrificed ; and 
 the chains of slavery riveted, not relaxed. Slavery, in 
 that age, we must recollect, was interwoven with the 
 entire fabric of society in almost all nations. To de- 
 nounce it would have been a provocation, nay, a chal- 
 lenge, to a servile war in every country to which the 
 zeal of the Christian emissaries might carry the Gospel. 
 Contenting themselves, therefore, with the enunciation 
 of those principles which, where they are truly em- 
 braced, are inconsistent with the permanent existence 
 of slavery, and, if triumphant, insure its downfall, the 
 Apostles pursued that which was their great object; 
 and for those of an inferior order, patiently waited for 
 the time when the seed they had sown broadcast in 
 the earth should yield its harvest. 
 
 And surely the event has justified their sagacity. 
 For to what, after all, have just notions on this most 
 important subject been owing, except to this said 
 Christianity? Though it is true that, owing to the 
 imperfect exemplification of its principles by men who 
 
420 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 profess it, it has not yet done its work, it is doing it ; 
 though some Christian nations — more shame for them 
 
 — have slaves, none but Christian nations are without 
 them. Not only is the sincere admission of the max- 
 ims and principles of the New Testament inconsistent 
 with the permanent existence of slavery, but the history 
 of Christianity affords perpetual illustrations of its ten- 
 dency to destroy it. Even during the Dark Ages, even 
 in its most corrupted form, Christianity wrought for 
 the practical extinction of serfdom. Mr. Newman says 
 that it was Christians^ not men^ that the Church sought 
 to enfranchise ; it little matters ; she sought to abolish 
 all villanage. He says that even Mahometans do not 
 like to enslave Mahometans ; I ask, can he find immense 
 bodies of Mahometans who contend that it is contrary to 
 the spirit, tendencies, and maxims, if not precise letter, 
 of their religion, to enslave any body ? For it was such 
 a principle which expressly called forth the abhorrence 
 and condemnation of slavery in our own age and na- 
 tion. It cannot be denied that the movement by which 
 this accursed system was, after so long a struggle, ex- 
 terminated amongst us, was an eminently religious 
 one, as regards its main supporters, the grounds they 
 took, and the sacrifices they made. 
 
 " Bat Christian nations have defended and practised 
 slavery ! " you will say. 
 
 They have ; and Christian nations have often prac- 
 tised the vices which the " Book " expressly condemns, 
 
 — just as all nations have practised many things which 
 their codes of morals or laws condemn. The question 
 is whether in the one case the Book^ or in the other 
 case the codes^ approve them~;~nol, T presume, whether 
 man is a very inconsistent animal. But no system is 
 made answerable for the violations of its spirit — except 
 Christianity. 
 
DISCUSSION OF THREE QUESTIONS. 421 
 
 Mr. Newman says that slaveholders i lake the " New 
 Testament the stronghold of the accursed system.'* It 
 liad been more to the purpose if he had pointed out 
 a passage or two which recommend it. He knows that 
 it is simply because it does not (for reasons already 
 stated) denounce it, that they say it approves it. Are 
 you satisfied with this reasoning? Then try it on 
 another case, — for despotism is exactly parallel. The 
 Now Testament does not expressly denounce that^ and 
 for the same reasons ; and the arguments for passive 
 obedience have been with equal plausibility drawn from 
 its pages. Will the Transatlantic republicans approve 
 despotism on the same authority? — Despotism has 
 wrought at least as much misery to mankind as slavery, 
 and probably much more. Was it a duty of the Apos- 
 tles, instead of laying down principles which, though 
 having another object, would infallibly undermine it, 
 to denounce despotism everywhere, and invito all peo- 
 ple to an insurrection against their rulers ? If they had, 
 the spiritual objects of the Gospel would have been 
 easily understood, and very properly treated. Let me 
 apply the argunientum ad hominem, Mr. Newman has 
 favored the world with his views of religious truth, 
 and the " spiritual " weapons by which its " champion" 
 is to make it victorious over mankind ; he has also re- 
 corded his hatred of slavery and despotism, where such 
 magnanimity is perfectly safe, and perfectly superfluous. 
 Let me now suppose you, not only partly, but wholly 
 of his mind, and animated (if " spiritualism " will ever 
 prompt men to do any thing, except, as Harrington 
 says, to write books against book-revelation), — let me 
 suppose you animated to go as missionary to the East 
 to preach this spiritual system : would you, in addition 
 to all the rest, publicly denounce the social and political 
 evils under which the nations groan ? If so, yc ur spir- 
 
 36 
 
422 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 itual projects would soon be perfectly understood, and 
 summarily dealt with. 
 
 It is in vain to say that, if commissioned by Heaven, 
 and endowed with power of working miracles, you 
 would do so ; for you cannot tell under what limitations 
 your commission would be given ; it is pretty certain 
 that it would leave you to work a moral and spiritual 
 system by moral and spiritual means, and not allow you 
 to turn the world upside down, nor mendaciously tell it 
 that you came only to " preach peace," while every syl- 
 lable you uttered would be an incentive to sedition. 
 
 III. The last point on which you ask a few remarks 
 is in relation to the early spread of Christianity. Mr- 
 Newman makes easy work of this great problem. He 
 says, " Before Constantine, Christians were but a small 
 fraction of the empire In fact^ it luas the Chris- 
 tian soldiers in Constantine' s army who conquered the 
 empire for Christianity P * ' * 
 
 In the first place, supposing the facts just as stated, — 
 namely, that it was the Christian soldiers of Constan- 
 tine who conquered the empire for Christianity, — who 
 was it that conquered the army for Christianity ? When 
 I find Mahometan ism the prevalent religion through the 
 English regiments, I shall shrewdly suspect that the 
 conquest of England for Mahometanism will have been 
 made an easy task, by its having already made equal 
 progress amongst the people generally I 
 
 I suppoc3 it will not be denied that the soldiers, by 
 whose aid Constantine achieved this great victory, were 
 themselves professedly converts to Christianity; and 
 Christianity as it had existed in the times of the recent 
 persecutions was not likely to allure men to the pro- 
 fession of arms. I think, therefore, we may fairly 
 assume, that, if the imperial armies were to any con- 
 
 * Phases, p. 162. 
 
DISCUSSION OF THREE QUESTIONS. 423 
 
 siderable extent — and it must have been ex hypothesi 
 to a prevailing extent — composed of Christians, Chris- 
 tianity had made at least equal progress in the ranks of 
 civil life. The one may be taken as the measure of the 
 other ; though we might fairly suppose, both from the 
 principles and habits of the Christians, that they would 
 be found in civil life in a larger ratio. The camp was 
 not precisely the place for them ; the Gospel might find 
 them there, it rarely sent them. So that the question 
 returns. How came it to pass that the bulk of the*armies 
 which " conquered the empire for Christianity " came to 
 be Christians, — at least in name and profession ? 
 
 " Ah I " you will say, " in name, — but they were 
 strange Christians who became soldiers." Very true ; 
 and it makes my argument the stronger. 3Iere profes- 
 sors of a religious system only follow in the wake of its 
 triumphs. When those who do not care much for a 
 system profess and embrace it, depend upon it, it has 
 largely triumphed. To suppose, therefore, that Con- 
 stantine conquered the empire for Christianity, while 
 we admit that the army was already Christian, is very 
 like getting rid of the objection in the way the Irishman 
 proposed to get rid of some superfluous cart-loads of 
 earth. " Let us dig a hole," said he, " and put it in." 
 It is much the same here. 
 
 Constantine became a convert, perhaps from cctnvic- 
 tion, but certainly rather late. Supposing him a polit- 
 ical convert, as many have done, it could only be be- 
 cause he saw that Christianity had done its work to 
 such an extent as to render it more probable that it 
 would assist him than that he could assist it This in- 
 duced him to take it under the wing of his patronage. 
 And on such a theory, what but such a conviction 
 could have justified him in the attempt for a moment ? 
 How could he be fool enough to add to the difficulties 
 
424 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 of his position — a candidate for empire — the stupen- 
 dous difficulty )f forcing upon his unwilling or indiffer- 
 ent subjects a religion which by supposition they were 
 any thing but prepared to receive ? If the prospects of 
 Christianity had not already decided the question for 
 him, «o far from receiving credit for political sagacity, 
 as he ever has done, he would deserve rather to be con- 
 sidered an absolute idiot ! 
 
 Again ; is it not plain from history in general, and 
 must we not infer it from the nature of the case a pri- 
 ori^ that Christianity must in some fashion have con- 
 quered its millions before Constantine or any other 
 man was likely to attempt to conquer the empire for 
 Christianity, or to succeed in so doing if he bad ? Is 
 there an instance on record of a people suddenly, at a 
 moment's notice, changing its religion, or rather — for 
 this is the true representation — of many different na- 
 tions changing their many different religions at the sim- 
 ple command of their sovereign, and he too an upstart ? 
 In two cases, and in only two, it may be done ; first, by 
 an unsparing use of the sword, the brief, simple alter- 
 native of Mahomet, Death or the Koran; the other, 
 when the new form of belief has converted the bulk or 
 a large portion of the nation ; of which, in this case, 
 the conversion of the army is a tolerably significant in- 
 dication. 
 
 But again ; if it be said that the people, or rather the 
 many different nations, abandoned their religions out of 
 complaisance to their sovereign, I answer. Why do we 
 not see the same thing repeated when Julian wished to 
 reverse the experiment ? They were not so pliant then ; 
 then was it seen very clearly that the people were, as in 
 every other case, unwilling, as regards their religion, to 
 be mere puppets in the hands of their governors. He 
 was animated by at least as strong a hatred of Chris- 
 
DISCUSSION OF THREE QUESTIONS. 425 
 
 tianity as Constantine by a love of it. Yet we see all 
 the way through, that there was not a chance of suc- 
 cess for him. 
 
 " But there were some persecutions," you will say, 
 " by Constantine." True, but they were so trifling 
 compared with what would have been required had the 
 conversion of an unbelieving and refractory empire de- 
 pended on such means, that few who read the history 
 of religious revolutions will believe that they were the 
 cause of the change. Every thing shows that a vast 
 preceding moral revolution in the empire is the only 
 sufficient explanation of so sudden an event. Gibbon 
 himself admits Constantine's tolerant disposition. 
 
 " But," it may be said, " the old heathenism was worn 
 out and effete ; no one thought it worth his while to 
 stand up in its defence." 
 
 I answer, first, it seems to have been sufficiently 
 loved, or at least Christianity was sufficiently hated, 
 to insure frequent and sanguinary persecutions of the 
 latter, almost up to the eve of Constantine's accession. 
 Secondly, you are to consider, that, though in the schools 
 of philosophers, in the Epicurean or sceptical atmos- 
 phere of the luxurious capital and other great cities, 
 there was unquestionably a numerous party to whom 
 the old superstition was a laughing-stock, there were 
 vast multitudes to whom it was still, in its various forms, 
 a thing of power. You are to recollect that the Roman 
 empire was made up of many nations, each with a dif- 
 ferent mode of religion, and to suppose that these differ- 
 ent religions had ceased to exercise the usual influence 
 on vast multitudes of the people would be mere delusion. 
 If they were surrendered at last so easily, it could only 
 be because a great party — antagonistic to each — had 
 been silently forming in each nation, and undermining 
 the power of the popular superstitions. But, thirdly, if 
 
 3C^ 
 
426 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 the representation were true, to what can so singular a 
 phenomenon — this simultaneous decay of different re- 
 ligions, this epidemic pestilence amongst the gods of 
 the Pantheon — be ascribed, but to the previous influ- 
 ence of Christianity, and its extensive conquests ? And, 
 fourthly, supposing this not the case, and yet that the 
 indifference in question existed, this indifference to the 
 old systems of religion would not presuppose equal in- 
 difference to neiv^ or induce the people to embrace them 
 at the mere bidding of their new master." If this Were 
 so, we ought to see the same phenomenon repeated in 
 the case of Julian. If, in their presumed indifference to 
 the old and the new, they listened to Constantine when 
 he commanded them to become Christians, why did 
 not they manifest an equally compliant temper when 
 the Apostate enjoined them to become heathens, and, 
 like Constantine, gave them both precept and example ? 
 
 But look at the historic evidence on the subject long 
 before the establishment of Christianity. Is it possible 
 for any candid person to read the Epistle of Pliny to 
 Trajan, and not see in that alone, after making every 
 deduction for any supposed bias under which the let- 
 ter may have been written (though, in fact, it is diffi- 
 cult to suppose any bias that would not rather lead the 
 writer to diminish the number of the Christians than 
 to exaggerate it), — is it possible, I say, to read that 
 singular state paper, and not feel that the new religion 
 had made prodigious progress in that remote province ? 
 and that, a fortiori, if in Bithynia it had conquered its 
 thousands of proselytes, in other and more favored prov- 
 inces it must have gained its tens of thousands ? To 
 me the letter of Pliny speaks volumes ; and if so much 
 could be said at so early a period as A. D. 107, what 
 was the state of things two centuries later ? 
 
 Precisely the same conclusion must be arrived at if 
 
DISCUSSION OF THREE QUESTIONS. 427 
 
 we consult the uniform tone of the Christian apologists, 
 from Justin Martyr to Minucius Felix. Making here, 
 again, what deductions you please for the fervid elo- 
 quence and rhetorical exaggerations of such a man as 
 Tertullian, it is too much to suppose even his "African" 
 impetuosity would have ventured, not merely on the 
 virulent invective, the bold taunts, with which he every- 
 where assails the popular superstitions, but on such 
 strong assertions of the triumphant progress of the up- 
 start religion, unless there had been obvious approxi- 
 cnation to truth in his statements. ^^ We were but of 
 yesterday," says he, " and we have filled your cities, 
 islands, towns, and assemblies ; the camp, the senate, 
 the palace, and the forum swarm with converts to Chris- 
 tianity." Apologist for Christianity! Unless these 
 words had been enforced by very much of truth, he 
 would have made Christianity simply ridiculous ; and 
 Christians would have been necessitated to apologize 
 for their mad apologist. 
 
 The same conclusion equally follows from the con- 
 sideration of those very corruptions of Christianity, 
 which no candid student of ecclesiastical history will 
 be slow to admit had already infected it, many years 
 before Constantine ventured to aid it by his equivocal 
 patronage. It was obviously its triumphant progress, — 
 its attraction to itself of much wealth, — the accession, 
 to a considerable extent, of fashion, rank, and power, — 
 that chiefly caused those corruptions. So long as thei 
 Christian Church was poor and despised, such scenes 
 as often attended the election of bishops in the great 
 cities of the empire would be quite impossible. 
 
 Under such circumstances the argument of Mr. New- 
 man — judiciously compressed into a few sentences — 
 appears to me even ludicrous. How different the course 
 which Gibbon pursues ! Whut a pity that the great 
 
428 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 historian did not perceive that this statement would 
 have led him equally well to his desired end ; that so 
 brief a demonstration would suffice to account for that 
 unmanageable phenomenon, the rapid progress and ul- 
 timate triumph of Christianity ! He, on the contrary, 
 seems to have read history with very different eyes ; 
 and yet I suppose no man will question either his 
 learning or his sagacity. He finds himself obliged to 
 admit the conspicuous advance which the Gospel had 
 made before Constantine's accession, and employs every 
 nerve to invent sufficient natural causes to account for 
 it. What a facile task would he have had of it, if he 
 had but bethought him that Christianity, instead of 
 having been to an enormous extent successful, was, in 
 fact, waiting, in comparative failure, the triumphant 
 aid of a military conqueror! He might then have dis- 
 pensed with the celebrated chapter^ and substituted for 
 it the two pregnant sentences by which Mr. Newman 
 has, in effect, declared it superfluous. 
 
 August 7. Three days ago (the evening before my 
 return home) I managed to prevail upon myself to have 
 a close and formal discussion with Harrington on the 
 subject of his scepticism. We had a regular fight, 
 which lasted till midnight, and beyond. A good deal 
 of it was (in a double sense, perhaps) a wKTonaxia. As 
 I had no one to jot down short-hand notes of our con- 
 troversy, — perhaps it is as well for me and for truth 
 that there was none, — it is impossible that I should do 
 more than give you a succinct summary of its course. 
 But its principal topics are too indelibly impressed 
 on my memory to leave me in doubt about general 
 accuracy. 
 
 I hardly know what led to it ; I believe, however, it 
 
THE LAST EVENIxMG. 429 
 
 was an observation he made on the different fates of 
 metaphysical and physical science, — the last all prog- 
 ress, and the first perpetual uncertainty. He had been 
 reading a remark of some philosopher who attributed 
 this difference to the more substantial incentives offered 
 to the cultivation of the physical sciences. " So that," 
 said he, " they are, it seems, what our German friends 
 would call ' Brodwissenschaften ' ! Not the brain, as 
 some idly suppose, but the stomach, is the true organon 
 of discovery, and if the metaphysician could but be 
 punctually assured of his dinner (which has not always 
 been the case), or at all events of a fortune, we should 
 soon have the true theories of the Subhme and Beauti- 
 ful, — of Ethics, — of the Infinite, — of the Absolute, 
 — of Mind and Matter, — of Liberty and Necessity ; 
 whereas I think we should only have a multiplication 
 of doubtful theories." 
 
 He remarked that he doubted the truth of the hy- 
 pothesis in both its parts ; that not the want of ade- 
 quate motives, but the intrinsic difficulty of the subjects, 
 had kept metaphysics back (on what subjects had men 
 expended more gigantic toil ?) ; nor, on the other hand, 
 was it necessity that chiefly impelled man to cultivate 
 physical science ; it was the desire of knowledge, — or 
 rather, he added, the love of truth ; for what else was 
 his admitted curiosity, in the last resort, unless man is 
 equally curious about falsehood and truth ; " that is/' 
 said he, laughing, " as curious after ignorance as after 
 knowledge ! No," he continued, " the sciences are 
 made arts for utilitarian purposes ; but the sciences 
 themselves have a very different origin. For my own 
 part, I would as soon believe that Sir Isaac Newton ex- 
 cogitated his system of the universe in hopes of being 
 made one day Master of the Mint." I assented, and, 
 smiling, told him I was glad to find him admit that 
 
430 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 there was in man a love of knowledge, identical with 
 the love of truth. He said he admitted the appetite^ 
 but denied that there was always an adequate sup- 
 ply of food. He admitted that in physical science man 
 seemed capable of unlimited progress; but it seemed 
 . doubtful whether this was the case in other directions. 
 " What was there inconsistent with scepticism in that ? " 
 he asked. 
 
 I answered, that it was not for me to say at what 
 point of the scale a man might become an orthodox 
 doubter ; but I was, at all events, glad that he had not 
 gone all the lengths which some had gone, or professed 
 to have gone ; who, if they had not reached that climax 
 of Pyrrhonism, to doubt even if they doubt, yet had 
 declared the attainment of all truth impossible. I then 
 bantered him a little on the advantages of " absolute 
 scepticism " ; told him I wondered that he should throw 
 them away ; and reminded him of the success with 
 which the sceptic might train on his adversary into the 
 " bosky depths " of German metaphysics, — the theo- 
 ries of Schelling, Fichte, Hegel. " If truth be in any 
 of those dusky labyrinths," said I, " you are not com- 
 pelled to find her ; the more unintelligible the discus- 
 sion becomes, the better for the sceptic ; you may not 
 only doubt, but doubt whether you even understand 
 your doubts. You may play ' hide and seek ' there for 
 ten thousand years." " For all eternity," was his reply. 
 But he said he had no wish to seek any such covert, 
 nor to play the sceptic. 
 
 I told him I was glad to find that his scepticism did 
 not — to use Burke's expression on another subject — 
 '' go down to the foundations." He answered that he 
 was afraid it did on all subjects really of any signifi- 
 cance to man. " As to the present life," he continued, 
 " I am quite willing to accept Bayle's dictum : * Les 
 
THE LAST EVENING. 431 
 
 Sceptiques ne nioient pas qu'il ne se fallut conformer 
 aux coutumes de son pays, et pratiquer des devoirs de 
 la morale, et prendre parti en ces choses la sur des pro- 
 babilites, sans attendre la certitude.' " 
 
 I was not sorry that he took Bayle's limits of scep- 
 ticism rather than Hume's : I told him so. 
 
 Hume, he said, was evidently playing with scepti- 
 cism ; for himself, he had no heart to jest upon the sub- 
 ject. The Scotch sceptic acknowledged that the meta- 
 physical riddles of his " absolute scepticism " exercised, 
 and ought to exercise, no practical influence on himself 
 or any man ; that the moment he quitted them, and 
 entered into society, " they appeared to him so frigid 
 and unnatural " that he could not get himself to inter- 
 est himself about them any further; that a dinner with 
 a friend, or a game at backgammon, put them all to 
 flight, and restored him to the undoubting belief of all 
 the maxims which his meditative hours had stripped 
 him of. It was natural, Harrington said ; for such scep- 
 ticism was impossible. He added, however, that, had 
 Hume been honest, he would never have employed his 
 subtilty in the one-sided way he did ; " for," said he, 
 " if his principles be true, they tell just as much against 
 those who den^ any religious dogmas as against those 
 who maintain them. Yet everywhere in relation to re- 
 ligion — take the question of miracles, for example — 
 he argues not as a sceptic at all, but as a dogmatist, 
 only on the negative side. If his doctrine of ' Ideas ' 
 and of * Causation ' be true, he ought to have main- 
 tained that, for any thing we know, miracles may have 
 occun-ed a thousand times, and may as often occur 
 again. Hume," he said, " was amusing himself; but 1 
 am not : nor can any one really feel — many pretend 
 to do so without feeling at all — the pressure of such 
 doubts as envelop me, and be content to amuse them- 
 selves with them." 
 
432 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 I found it very difficult to attack him in the intrench- 
 ments he had thrown up. I thought I would just try 
 for a moment to act on the Spiritualist's advice, and, 
 throwing aside all " intellectual and logical processes," 
 all appeals to the " critical faculties," advance "lightly 
 equipped as Priestley himself," making my appeal to 
 the " spiritual faculty." I cannot say that the result 
 was at all what " spiritualism " promises. On the con- 
 trary, Harrington parried all such appeals in a twink- 
 ling. He said he did not admit that he had any 
 " spiritual faculty " which acted in isolation from the 
 intellect; that religious faith must be founded on re- 
 ligious truth, and even quasi-reWgious faith on quasi- 
 religious truth. That the intellect and the moral and 
 spiritual faculties (if he had any) acted together, since 
 he felt that he was indivisible, and that the former must 
 be satisfied as well as the latter ; that it was so with all 
 his faculties, none of which acted in isolation ; that 
 however hunger might prompt to food, he never took 
 what his senses of sight and touch told him was sand 
 or gravel ; that if he indulged love, or pity, or anger, it 
 was only as the senses and the imagination and the 
 understanding were busied with objects adequate to 
 elicit them ; that if beautiful poetry excited emotion, it 
 was only as he understood the meaning and connection 
 of the words. " And what else are you doing noiv, while 
 urging me to realize by direct * insight,' by ' gazing ' 
 on ' spiritual truth,' and so forth, the things you wish 
 me to realize, — I say what are you doing but appeal- 
 ing to me, through these same media of the senses and 
 the imagination, by rhetoric and logic ? How else can 
 you gain any access to my supposed ' spiritual fac- 
 ulties ' ? " I replied, that even the spiritualist did 
 that, — he endeavored to convince men, I supposed. 
 " Yes," he replied, laughing, " because he is privileged 
 
THE LAST EVENING. 433 
 
 doubly to abuse logic at one and the same time ; to 
 abuse it in one sense as a fallacious instrument of 
 religious conviction in the hands of others, and to 
 abuse it in another sense, as an instrument of fal- 
 lacious conviction in his own. But you are not so 
 privileged. " 
 
 Harrington insisted on the fact, that the whole thing 
 was a delusion ; I might appeal, he said, if I thought 
 proper, to any faculties, or rudiments of faculties, he 
 possessed, spiritual or otherwise; but he really could 
 not pretend even to comprehend one syllable I said, if I 
 denied him the use of his understanding. I might as 
 well, and for the same reasons, appeal to him without 
 the intervention of his senses^ — for his " soul " could 
 not be more different from his " intellect " than from 
 them. " Besides," he continued, " I know you do not 
 imagine that any spiritual faculty acts thus indepen- 
 dently of the intellect ; and therefore you are only 
 mocking me." 
 
 I thought it best to cut my cable and leave this un- 
 safe anchorage. 
 
 I told him that, as he doubted whether man had any 
 distinctly marked religious and spiritual faculties, while 
 I affirmed that he had, — although he was quite right 
 in supposing that I did not believe that they acted ex- 
 cept in close conjunction with the intellect, — it made 
 it difficult to hold any discourse with him. Doubting 
 the Bible, he had also learned to doubt that doctrine of 
 human depravity, w^hich he once thought harmonized 
 — and I still thought did alone harmonize — the great 
 facts of man's essentially religious constitution and his 
 eternally varied and most egregiously corrupt religious 
 development. 
 
 However, I told him that, even in the concession of 
 the probable as a sufficient rule of conduct in this life, 
 
 37 
 
434 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 he had granted enough to condemn utterly his sceptical 
 position. 
 
 He now looked sincerely interested. " Let me," said 
 I, " ask you a few questions." He glanced towards me 
 an arch look. "What ! " he said, " you wish to get the 
 Socratic weather-gage of me, do you? You forget, 
 my dear uncle, that you introduced me to the Platonic 
 dialectics." 
 
 " Heaven forgive you," said I, " for the thought 
 You know I make little pretension to your favorite 
 erotetic method : and if I did, oh ! do you not know, 
 Harrington, my son, that, if I could but convince you 
 on this one subject, I would consent to be confuted by 
 you on every other every day in the year? — nay, to 
 be trampled under your feet ? " I added, with a falter- 
 ing voice. " And, besides that, do you not know that 
 there can be no rivalry between father and son ; that 
 it is the only human affection which forbids it ; that 
 pride, and not envy, swells a father's heart, when he 
 finds himself outdone ? " 
 
 He was not unmoved ; told me he knew that I loved 
 him well, and desired me to ask any questions I pleased 
 
 He saw how gratified his affection made me feel. I 
 said, gayly, " Well, then, let me ask (as our old friend 
 with the queer face might have said), Do you not grant 
 there is such a thing as prudence ? " 
 
 " I do," he said. 
 
 " But to be prudent is, I think, to do that which is 
 most likely to promote our happiness." 
 
 " That which seems most likely, for I do not admit 
 that we know what will." 
 
 " That which seems^ then, for it is of no consequence." 
 
 "Of no consequence! surely there is a little differ- 
 ence between hein^ and seeming to heP 
 
 " All the difference in the w^rld," I replied, " but not 
 
THE LAST EVENING. 435 
 
 in relation to our choice of conduct. We choose, if 
 prudent, that conduct which, on the whole, deliberately 
 seems most likely to promote our happiness, and, as far 
 as that goes, what seems is." 
 
 " I grant it ; and that probabilities are the measure of 
 it," said Harrington. 
 
 " You are of Bayle's opinion, that there is in relation 
 to the present life a probable prudent, and that it would 
 be gross folly to neglect it ? " 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 " And in proportion as the interest was greater, and 
 extended over a longer time, you would be content with 
 less and less probabilities to justify action ? " 
 
 " I freely grant I should." 
 
 " K now a servant came into the room to say that he 
 
 feared your farm-house at King's O was on fire, 
 
 though you might think it but faintly probable, you . 
 would not think it prudent to neglect the in forma- )\ 
 tion ? " 
 
 " I certainly should not." 
 
 " And if you were immortal here on earth, and the 
 neglect of some probably, or (we will say) only possi- 
 bly, true information in relation to some vital interest 
 might affect it through that whole immortality, you 
 would consider it prudent to act on almost no prob- 
 ability at all, on the very faintest presumption of the 
 truth ? " 
 
 " I must in honesty agree with you so far." 
 
 " What does your scepticism promise you, if it be 
 well founded ? Much happiness ? " 
 
 " To me none ; rather the contrary ; and to none, I 
 think, can it promise much." 
 
 " And if Christianity be true, — for I speak only oi 
 that, — I know there is not in your estimate any other 
 religion that comes into competition with it, — immor- 
 tal felicity, immortal misery, depends on it ? " 
 
436 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 " Yes ; it cannot be denied." ' ' ' 
 
 " You admit that scepticism may be false, even 
 though it has a thousand to one in its favor ; for by 
 its very principles you know nothing, and can know 
 nothing, on the subjects to which its doubts extend ? " 
 
 " I acknowledge it." 
 
 " And Christianity may be true by the very same 
 reasoning, though the chances be only as one to a 
 thousand ? " 
 
 " It is so." 
 
 " Then by your own confession you are not prudent, 
 for you do not act in relation to Christianity on the 
 principles on which you say you act in the affairs of 
 the present life ; where you acknowledge that the least 
 presumption will move you, when the interests are suffi- 
 ciently permanent and great." 
 r He told me, with a smile, I might have arrived at 
 I the same conclusion without any argument ; for he was 
 \ willing to acknowledge in general that he was not pru- 
 dent, and in relation to this very subject should always 
 admit, with Byron, that the sincere Christian had an 
 ^^ undeniable advantage over both the infidel and the 
 Bceptic ; " since," he added, putting the admission into a 
 very concise form, " their best is his worsV 
 
 " Very well," said I, " Harrington, only remember 
 that your imprudence is none the less for your admis- 
 sion of it." 
 
 " None in the world," he admitted ; but he contended 
 there was a flaw in the argument ; for that it was im- 
 possible to accept any religion on merely prudential 
 grounds. And he then went on, in his curious way, 
 to lament that an unreasonable candor prevented him 
 fr^m here taking advantage of an ingenious argument 
 adopted by some of the modern " spiritualists " in rea- 
 soning on the probabilities of a "future life." They 
 
THE LAST EVENING. 437 
 
 contend that it is necessary to insulate the soul (if it 
 would discover " spiritual truth ") from all bias of self- 
 interest, — from all oblique glances at prospective ad- 
 vantage ; in fact, that only he is fully equipped for dis- 
 covering " spiritual truth " who is disinterestedly indif- 
 ferent as to whether it be discovered or not. Harring- 
 ton said he could not pretend that even the sceptic was 
 so favorably circumstanced as that. " For my part," 
 he said, " I cannot honestly adopt this view, and always 
 think it prudent to accept as large an armful of happi- 
 ness as I can grasp, when truth and duty do not come 
 in the way." 
 
 " And in the name of common sense," I said, " what 
 truth and duty are to stand in your way ? Is not your 
 truth, that there is none ? " 
 
 " Yes," he replied, smiling ; " but is not the truth the 
 truth, as FalstafF said ? though to be sure it was when 
 he was manufacturing his eleven men in buckram out 
 of two. However, as Mr. Newman, when some one 
 foretold that he would be some day a Socinian or an 
 infidel, replied, ' Well, if Socinianism or any thing' else 
 be the truth, Socinians or any thing else let us be ' ; so 
 I must say, if no truth be the truth, no-truth men let 
 us be." 
 
 " Very well," I replied. " Then, it seems, truth stands 
 in the way of acting prudently ; and, instead of remedy- 
 ing our first paradox, we have started on another, that 
 truth and prudence are here opposed : for in no other 
 cases (I think) in which you apply your own rule of 
 the probable to the present life will a mind of your com- 
 prehensiveness say they are opposed; I am sure you 
 will admit the general maxims, that to lie is inexpe- 
 dient, and that honesty is the best policy, and so on." 
 He granted it. 
 
 "But further," said I, "what sort of truth is this, 
 
 37 • 
 
438 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 which involves duty, and yet is opposed to prudence ? 
 It is, that there is no truths it seems, and this completes 
 the paradox. This strange truth — the Alpha and 
 Omega of the sceptic, his first and his last — is to in- 
 volve duty ; he is to be a confessor and martyr for it ! 
 Nothing less than happiness and prudence are to be 
 sacrificed to conscience in the matter. Truly, if the 
 truth that there is no truth involves any duty, it ought 
 to be the duty of believing that there is no duty to be 
 performed; and you might as well call yourself a no- 
 duty man as a no-truth manP 
 
 He smiled, but replied, that, seriously, it was impossi- 
 ble to adopt any religious opinions, or to change them, 
 at the bidding of the will. 
 
 I admitted, of course, that the will had no direct 
 power in the matter; but reminded him that, if he 
 meant it had no influence, or even a little, on the forma- 
 tion or retention of opinions, no one could be a more 
 strenuous assertor of the contrary than he had often 
 been. I reminded him it was so notorious that man 
 ^^ usually managed to believe as he wished^ that there ^ 
 was no one maxim more frequently on the lips of the 
 greatest philosophers, orators, and poets. But I added 
 that there is also a legitimate way of influencing the 
 will, and that is through the understanding ; and that it 
 was with the hope of inducing him to reconsider the 
 paradoxes of scepticism, and not with any expectation 
 of instant or violent change, that I was anxious to enu- 
 merate them on the present occasion. 
 
 It is impossible for me to recollect exactly the course 
 of the long conversation that ensued ; suffice it to say, 
 that he willingly granted many other paradoxes, some 
 of them so readily, as to confirm the suspicion I had 
 sometimes felt, that he must often have doubted the 
 validity of his doubts. He admitted, for example, that 
 
THE LAST EVENING. 439 
 
 since men in general (whether from the possession of a 
 distinct religious faculty, though it might be corrupt 
 and depraved, or a mere rudimentary tendency to relig- 
 ion) had adopted some religion, religious scepticism, in 
 an intelligible sense, was opposed to nature; — that it 
 was equally opposed to nature, inasmuch as the general 
 constitution of man sought and loved certainty/, or sup- 
 posed certainty, and found a state of perpetual doubt 
 intolerable ; and that if this be attributed to a tendency 
 to dogmatism, that is the very tendency of nature which 
 is affirmed; — that it is opposed to nature again in this 
 way, that whereas restlessness and agitation of mind 
 are usually, at all events, warnings to seek relief, scepti- 
 cism produces these as its pure and proper result ; — 
 that since, by the confession of every mind worthy of 
 respect, the great doctrines of religion, if not true, are 
 such that we cannot but wish they were ; since, by his 
 oivn confession, scepticism has nothing to allure in it, 
 and rather causes misery than happiness ; and since, by 
 his confession and that of every one else, men in gen- 
 eral easily believe as they wish, it is an unaccountable 
 paradox, that any one should remain a sceptic for a day, 
 except, indeed, from a guilty fear of the truth ; — that, 
 since scepticism tends to misery, it is better not to know 
 its truth, and that therefore ignorance is better than 
 knowledge ; — that, if Christianity be an illusion, it, at 
 all events, tends to make men happier than the truth of 
 scepticism, and that therefore error is better than truth ; 
 — that religious scepticism is open to the same objec- 
 tion as scepticism absolute ; for whereas the last is 
 taunted with trusting to reason to prove that reason can 
 in nothing be trusted, religious scepticism is chargeable 
 with declaring the certainty of all uncertainty, and, while 
 proclaiming that there is nothing true, avowing that 
 that is the truth and lastly, that if, in consistency, it 
 
440 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 leaves even that uncertainty uncertain, it arrives at a 
 conclusion which everlastingly remits us to renewed 
 investigation ! 
 
 " But," said he, " the sceptic does affirm the certainty 
 of all uncertainty. That is precisely my state of mind, 
 even in relation to Christianity. Both its truth and 
 falsehood are — uncertain." 
 
 " Then," said I, " I must not say you reject Chris- 
 tianity, but only that you do not receive it." 
 
 " Precisely so," said he, with a smile and a blush at 
 the same time. I was much amused with this logical 
 ceremoniousness, by which a man is not to say that he 
 rejects any thing so conditioned, but only that he does 
 not receive it. I told him I imagined they came to 
 much the same thing. 
 
 " It is impossible," said he, after a pause, " to affirm 
 any thing on these subjects." 
 
 " It is equally impossible," said I, " to affirm nothing ; 
 on the contrary, you sceptics have two conclusions, 
 though in a negative form, for every body else's one, — 
 together with the pleasant addition, that they are con- 
 traries to one another; and as Pascal said that the 
 man who attempted to be neuter between the sceptic 
 and dogmatist was a sceptic par excellence.^ so the gen- 
 uine sceptic may be called a dogmatist par excellence.^^ 
 
 " For my part," said he, smiling sadly, " I hardly 
 think it is very difficult either to believe nothing or 
 every thing. Fellowes, you see, has believed every 
 thing, and now he is in a fair way to believe nothing. 
 However, all I mean is, that the evidence on these 
 subjects reduces one to a state of complete mental sus- 
 pense, in which it is equally unreasonable to say that 
 we believe, as to say that we believe not. However, 
 I grant you most of the paradoxes you mention ; but a 
 sceptic is not to be startled by paradoxes, I trow ; and 
 alas I they prove nothing." 
 
THE LAST EVENING. 
 
 441 
 
 "Prove notliing! nay, I think you do your system 
 injustice ; I think it is entitled to the distinction of 
 making great discoveries. You confess that the only 
 truth on these subjects is, that there is no truth ; that 
 to act on this truth necessitates a conduct opposed to 
 nature, to prudence, to happiness ; that it is a knowl- 
 edge worse than ignorance ; that it is a truth that is 
 worse than error ; that it never did, will, or can be em- 
 braced by many, and that it makes the few who em- 
 brace it miserable ; you admit further, with me, that 
 men generally believe as they wish. Why, then, do you 
 not fly from so hideous a monster, on the very ground 
 (only in this case it is stronger) on which you doubt 
 all religious systems, — that is, on account of the sup- 
 posed paradoxes they involve ? It may be but a little 
 argument with you, who seem to demand demonstra- 
 tion of religious truth ; but for myself, I feel that, what- 
 ever be the truth, such a chimera as scepticism, bris- 
 tling all over with paradoxes, must be — a lie." 
 
 " Well," he replied, " but then which religion is the 
 true?" 
 
 " Nay," I said, " that is an after consideration ; if 
 you can but be brought to believe that any is true, I 
 know you will believe but oneP 
 
 " You touched just now," he replied, " on the very 
 difficulty. I shall believe as soon as any one gives me 
 what you truly say I ask, — demonstration of the truth 
 of some one of the thousand and one religious systems 
 which men have believed." 
 
 " And tha'^ demonstration," said I, " you cannot have ; 
 for God has not granted demonstration to man on that 
 or any other subject in which duty is involved." 
 
 " But why might I not have had it ? and should 1 
 not have had it, if it bad been incumbent on me to be- 
 lieve it ? " 
 
442 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 We had now come to the very knot of the whole 
 argument. 
 
 " Incumbent on you to believe ! I suppose you mean, 
 if there had been any system which you could not but 
 believe ; which you must believe whether you would or 
 not. No doubt, in that case, the requisite evidence 
 would have been such that scepticism would have been 
 impossible ; that word ^ incumbent ' implies duty ; and 
 that word duty is the key to the whole mystery, for it 
 implies the possibility of resisting its claims. We do 
 not speak of its being incu7nhent on a man to run out 
 of a burning house, or to swim, if he can, when thrown 
 into deep water. He cannot help it. If there be a 
 Supreme Ruler of the universe, and if the posture of 
 his intelligent creatures be that of submissive obedience 
 to him, it is inconceivable that a man can ever have 
 experience of his being willing to perform that duty 
 with the sort of demonstration which you demand ; and, 
 for aught we know, it may be impossible, constituted 
 as we are, that we should ever be actually trained to 
 that duty, except in the midst of very much less than 
 certainty. Now, if this be so, — and I defy you or any 
 man to prove that it may not be so, — then we are ask- 
 ing a simple impossibility when we ask that we may 
 be freed from these conditions ; for it is asking that we 
 may perform our duty, under circumstances which shall 
 render all duty impossible." I pursued this subject at 
 some length, and reminded him that the supposed law 
 of our religious condition was throughout in analogy 
 with that of the entire condition of our present life, 
 and in conformity with his own rule of the probable ; 
 that it is probable evidence only that is given to man 
 in either case, and " probable evidence," as Bishop But- 
 ler says, " often of even wretchedly insufficient charac- 
 ter." Nature, or rather God himself, everywhere cries 
 
THE LAST EVENING. 443 
 
 aloud to us, " O mortals ! certainty, demonstration, 
 infallibility, are not for you, and shall not be given to 
 you ; for there must be a sphere for faith, hope, sin- 
 cerity, diligence, patience." And as if to prove to us, 
 not only that this evidence is what we must trust to, 
 but that we safely may. He impels us by strong ne- 
 cessities of our lower nature operating on the higher 
 (which would otherwise, perhaps, plead for the sceptic's 
 inaction in relation to this as well as to another world) 
 to play our part; if we- stand shivering on the brink of 
 action, necessity plunges us headlong in ; if we fear to 
 hoist the sail, the strength of the current of life snaps 
 our moorings, and compels us to drive. I reminded 
 him, that the generaL result also shows that, as man 
 musi^ so he may^ can, will, shall, (and so through all the 
 moods and tenses of contingency,) do well ; that faith 
 in that same sort of evidence which the sceptic rejects 
 when urged in behalf of religion, prompts the farmer 
 to cast in his seed, though he can command no blink 
 of sunshine, nor a drop of rain ; the merchant to com- 
 mit his treasures to the deep, though they may all go 
 to the bottom, and sometimes do ; the physician to 
 essay the cure of his patient, though often half in doubt 
 whether his remedy will kill or save. " It is," said I, 
 " in that same faith that we build, and plant, and lay 
 our little plans each day ; sometimes coming to noth- 
 ing, but generally, and according to the fidelity and 
 manliness with which we have conducted ourselves, 
 securing more than a return for the moral capital em- 
 barked ; and even where this is not the case, issuing, 
 when there have been the qualities which would natu- 
 rally secure success, a vigor and robustness of charac- 
 ter, which, like the rude health glowing in the weather- 
 beaten mariner, who has buffeted with wind and wave, 
 are a more precious recompense than success itself. In 
 these examples God says to us in effect, * On such 
 
444 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 evidence you must and shall act,' and shows us that we 
 safely may. Without promising us absolute success in 
 all our plans, or absolute truth in the investigation ot 
 evidence, he says, in either case, ' Do your best ; be 
 faithful to the light you have, diligent and conscientious 
 in your investigations of available evidence, great or 
 little, — act fearlessly on what appears the truth, and 
 ieave the rest to me.' " 
 
 Harrington here asked the question I expected: — 
 " But suppose different men coming (as they do) on 
 religious subjects to different conclusions, after the dili- 
 gence and fidelity of which you speak, what then ? " 
 
 " Then, if the fidelity and diligence have been abso- 
 luie^ — if all has been done which, under the circum- 
 stances, could be done, — I doubt not they are blameless. 
 But I fear there are very few who can absolutely say 
 this ; and for those who cannot say it at all, their guilt 
 is proportionate to the demands which the momentous 
 nature of the subject made on diligence and fidelity." 
 
 " I suppose," said he, with some hesitation, " you 
 will not allow that / have exercised this impartial 
 search ; and yet, supposing that I have, will you not 
 hold me blameless on the very principles now laid 
 down ? " 
 
 It was a painful question ; but I was resolved I 
 would have nothing to reproach myself with ; and there- 
 fore answered steadily, that it was not for me to judge 
 the degree of blame which attached to his present state 
 of mind, which I trusted was only transient ; that the 
 argument from sincerity was itself only one of the 
 probable things of which we had been speaking; that? 
 so subtle are the operations of the human mind, so 
 mysterious the play of the passions and affections, 
 the reason and conscience, so intimate the connection 
 amongst all our powers and faculties, that it is one of 
 the most difficult things to be able to say, with truth, 
 
THE LAST EVENING. 445 
 
 that we are perfectly sincere; that I did not see any 
 difficulty in believing that there is many a man who, 
 without hesitation and without any conscious hypocrisy, 
 would avow his sincerity, who, upon being suffered to 
 look into his own mind through a moral solar micro- 
 scope, would see there all sorts of misshapen monsters, 
 and turn away from the spectacle with disgust and 
 horror ; that such a microscope (to speak in figure) might 
 one day be applied by that Power' to whom only the 
 human heart is fully known. I added, however, that, if 
 I knew more of his mental history for some years past, 
 (into which my affection should never induce me im- 
 pertinently to pry.) I might, perhaps, in some measure, 
 account for his scepticism ; that I could even conceive 
 cases of minds so "encompassed with infirmity," or so 
 dependent on states of health, as to render such a state 
 involuntary, and therefore to take them out of the 
 sphere of our argument. But, apart from some such 
 causes, I plainly told him I could not permit myself to 
 believe that religious scepticism could be free from heavy 
 blame, if only on the ground that such as feel it do not 
 act consistently with its maxims in other cases, where 
 the evidence is of the same dubious nature, or rather is 
 much more dubious. The parallel case would be, (if we 
 could find it,) of a man whose interest urgently required 
 him to act one way or the other, and who, instead of 
 acting accordingly, sat down in absolute inaction, on 
 the score that he did not know what course to pursue. 
 That indecision would be always blamable. " Ah ! " 
 said I, " those cool heads and skilful hands which pilot 
 the little bark of their worldly fortunes amidst such dan- 
 gerous rocks and breakers, under such dark and stormy 
 skies, what can they say, if asked why they gave up all 
 thought of religion on the score of doubt, when its 
 hopes are at least as high as those of the schemes of 
 
 38 
 
446 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 earthly success, and its claims at least as strong as those 
 of present duty ? What will they be able to say ? 
 
 " O Harrington I " I continued, in some such words 
 as these, " supposing the draught of our present condi- 
 tion not to be such as I have sketched ; that the scep- 
 tical view of the gloom in which we are placed is the 
 true one, and that the Christian's is false ; which, nev- 
 ertheless, is likely to be not merely the happier, but the 
 nobler being, — he who sits down in querulous repin- 
 ing or slothful inactivity, as the result of doubt, or 
 he who, buoyant with faith and hope, encounters the 
 gloom, and, while longing for the dawn, is confident 
 that it will come ? But if that sketch be a true one, — 
 if the trial of which I have spoken be necessary for you 
 and for all, to develop and discipline those qualities 
 vvhich alone will elicit and mature an Immortal Virtue, 
 and secure to us at last the privilege of indefectible 
 'children of God,' — then with what feelings will you 
 hear the Great Master say, ' In every other case but 
 this, you acted on the principles and maxims by which 
 I taught you (not obscurely) that I summoned you to 
 act in this case also : doubts and difficulties were ne- 
 cessary to you as to all, and I exacted of you no more 
 than were necessary ultimately to secure for you an 
 eternal exemption from them. But because you could 
 not have that certainty which the very necessity of 
 the case excluded, you declined the trial, and have ac- 
 counted yourself unworthy of eternal life ! ' Ah ! how 
 different if you could hear him say, ' It was indeed a 
 temptation ; amidst numberless blessings denied to oth- 
 ers, I yet gave you, too, your trial ; — the questionable 
 talent of an inquisitive intellect, and leisure to use or 
 abuse it. Tempted to absolute doubt, you would not 
 succumb to it ; you would not be so inconsistent here 
 as to relinquish those maxims on which I compelled 
 you to act in every other case in life, nor deny to me 
 
THE LAST EVENING. 447 
 
 the confidence which you granted to every common 
 friend ! Warned by the very misery which was sent 
 to caution you that in that direction lay death, you 
 struggled against the incursions of your subtle foes, and 
 you overcame. Welcome, child of clay ! welcome to 
 that world in which there is no more night ! ' " 
 
 We had been talking on till long past midnight ; 
 and the lamp suddenly warned us that its light was 
 just expiring. Harrington took off the shade, and was 
 about to light a candle by the dying flame, when it 
 went out. " It matters not," he said, " I have the means 
 of kindling a light close at hand." "Let it alone," said 
 I, rising, and gently laying my hand on his arm, and 
 speaking in a low voice, but with much earnestness ; 
 ** this darkness is an emblem of our present life. You 
 cannot see me, but you hear my voice and feel the 
 touch of my hand. For any thing you know, I may be 
 seized with a sudden fit of insanity. I may be about 
 to stab you in this darkness ; such things have been. 
 You have lost, with the light, more than half the indi- 
 cations of affection which that would disclose. But 
 you trust to the probable; your pulse does not beat 
 any the quicker, nor do your nerves tremble. You may 
 have similar, nay, how much stronger proofs (if you 
 will) of the confidence with which you may trust God, 
 and Him, the compassionate One, " whom he hath 
 sent," in spite of all the gloom in which this life is in- 
 volved. That certainty for which you have just now 
 asked will only be granted when the darkness is passed 
 away ; and then you will ' rejoice in the light of his 
 countenance.* And, further," I continued, " there is yet 
 one thing which I wish to say to you ; and I feel as if 
 I could say it better in this darkness ; for I will not 
 venture to say that I should not manifest more feeling 
 than is consistent in a hard-hearted metaphysician. 
 Yes I it is on the side of feeling that I would also ad- 
 
448 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 dress you. You wilJ say, feeling is not argument ? No ; 
 but is man all reason ? I firmly believe, indeed, that 
 man is not called upon to do any thing for which his 
 reason does not tell him that he has sufficient evidence ; 
 but a part of that very evidence is often the dictate of 
 feeling; and genuine reason will listen to the heart, as 
 not always, nor perhaps more frequently than other- 
 wise, a suspicious pleader. If, as Pascal says so truly, 
 it sometimes has its reasons which the reason cannot 
 ^ comprehend, it has also its reasons which the reason 
 thoroughly understands. 
 
 " You were early an orphan ; you do not remember 
 your mother ; but I do ; ah, how well I I saw her the 
 last time she ever saw you. You were brought to her 
 bedside when she was in the full possession of all her 
 faculties, and deeply conscious that she had not many 
 hours to live. She looked at you as you were held in 
 your nurse's arms, smiling upon her with to me an 
 agonizing unconsciousness of your approaching orphan- 
 age. She gazed upon you with that intense look of 
 inexpressible affection which only maternal love, sharp- 
 ened by death, can give ; she looked long and earnestly, 
 but spoke not one syllable. As you were at length 
 taken from the room, she followed you with her eyes 
 till the door closed, and then it seemed as if the light 
 of this world had been quenched in them for ever. 
 
 * I charge you,' she said at length, * let me see him 
 again.' I made a motion as if to recall the attendant. 
 
 * Not here,^ she added, laying her hand gently on my 
 arm, and I understood her but too well. You know 
 whether I have in any degree fulfilled my trust. But 
 is it possible that I can think of an utter failure, and 
 not be more than troubled ? And if Christianity be 
 true, and if I am so happy as to obtain admission to 
 that ' blessed country into which an enemy never en- 
 tered, and from which a friend never went away,' and 
 
THE LAST EVENING. 449 
 
 she whom I loved so well should ask me why you come 
 not, — that she had tarried for you long, — must I 
 say that you will never come ? that her child had wan- 
 dered from the fold of the Good Shepherd, and had 
 gone I knew not whither? that I sought him in the 
 lonely glens and mountains, but found him nof I 
 hardly know, but I almost think — such was the love 
 she had for you — that such reply would shade that 
 radiant face even amidst the glories of Paradise. And 
 now — let all this be a dream — suppose that net sim- 
 ply by your own fault you will never see that mother 
 more, but that from the sad truth of your no truth — 
 you never can; that the ' Vale^ vale, in ceternum, vale,^ is 
 all that you can say to her : yet I say this, — that to 
 Kve only in the hope of the possibility of fulfilling the 
 better wishes of such a friend, and rejoining her for ever 
 in (if you will) the fabulous * islands of the blest,' 
 would not only make you a happier, but even a nobler, 
 being than your present mood can ever make you. 
 My FABULOUS is better than your true." 
 
 I felt that he was not unmoved. I was myself moved 
 too much to allow me to stay any longer, and saying 
 that I could find my way very well to my chamber in 
 the dark, where I had the means of kindling a light, I 
 softly closed the door and left him. 
 
 * * * * * 
 
 As I was to leave very early in the morning, I had 
 told Harrington that I should depart for the neighbor- 
 ing town (whither his servant was to drive me) with- 
 out disturbing him. But I could not tear myself away, 
 after the singular close of our interview on the last even- 
 ing, without a more express farewell. I tapped at his 
 chamber door, but, receiving no reply, gently entered. 
 He was resting in unquiet slumber. A table, lamp, and 
 books, by his bedside, bore witness to his perseverance in 
 
450 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 that pernicious habit which he had early formed ! I gen- 
 tly drew back one of the curtains, and let in the light of 
 the summer morning on his pallid, but most speaking 
 features, and gazed on them with a sad and foreboding 
 feeling. I recalled those days when I used nightly to 
 visit the slumbers of the little orphan, and trace in his 
 features the image of his mother. He was not aroused 
 by my entrance ; most likely he had sunk to slumber 
 at a late hour. Presently he began to talk in his sleep, 
 which was almost a constant habit in his younger days, 
 and which I used to consider one of the symptoms of 
 that intense cerebral activity by which he was distin- 
 guished. On the present occasion I thought I could 
 interpret the fitful and fleeting images which were 
 chasing each other by the laws of association through 
 his mind. " But how shall I know that these things, 
 which I call real, are different from the phenomena of 
 sleep which I call real ? " Alas ! thought I, the ruling 
 passion is strong in sleep, as in w^aking moments ! How 
 I dread lest it should be strong " in death " itself, of 
 which this sleep is the image ! After a pause, an ex- 
 pression of deepest sadness crept over the features, and 
 he murmured, with a slight alteration, two lines from 
 Coleridge's translation of that glorious scene in which 
 Wallenstein looks forth into the windy night in search 
 of his " star," and thinks of that brighter light of his 
 life which had been just extinguished. Harrington 
 used to say, that he preferred the translation of that 
 scene even to the magnificent original itself These 
 lines, (now a little varied,) I had often heard him quote 
 with delight: — 
 
 " Methinks 
 If I but saw her, 't would be well with me ; 
 She was the star of my nativity." 
 
 Was he, by the magic of dream-land, transported back 
 
CONCLUSION. 451 
 
 to childhood ? Was he as an orphan child thinking of 
 his naother, tha image of whose dying hours I had so 
 recently called up before hi m ? Or was it the recollec- 
 tion of a still brighter and more recently extinguished 
 " star," which thus troubled his wandering fancy ? — 
 There was another pause, and again the fitful breeze of 
 association awakened the sad and plaintive melody of 
 the jEolian lyre ; but I could not distinguish the words. 
 Presently the scene again changed ; and he suddenly 
 said, " Beautiful shadow ! if thou art a shadow, — thou 
 hast said, Come to me all ye that are weary, — and 
 
 surely if ever man was weary To whom can I 
 
 go " It was with intense feeling that I watched 
 
 for something more; but to my disappointment, (I may 
 almost call it anguish,) he continued silent. I could 
 not find it in my heart to rouse him, and, softly leaving 
 the chamber, departed for home. 
 
 « « * * * 
 
 Octobei' 31. The young Sceptic has since gone 
 where doubts are solved for ever ; but I am not with- 
 out hope, that in his last hours he was able to finish 
 the sentence which his dream left incomplete. " To 
 whom can I go, but unto Thee ? Thou only hast 
 THE WORDS OF ETERNAL LIFE." For mc, I havc noth- 
 ing more to live for here. In a few weeks I gladly 
 go to join my brother in his distant exile; — and for 
 Thee, my Country, " Peace be within thy dwellings, 
 and prosperity within thy palaces ! " And that it may 
 be so, may that Christianity, which, all imperfectly as 
 it has been exemplified, has yet been thy Palladium 
 and thy Glory, be ever and increasingly dear to thee I 
 ***** 
 
 December 27. I have resolved that the fragments 
 which originally constituted this journal shall not be 
 destroyed. I have employed the interval since the last 
 date in adapting and disguising them for publication. 
 
452 THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH. 
 
 How far an embroidery of fiction has been necessary in 
 attaining this object, is a matter of no consequence to 
 any one ; since the book aspires to none of the appro- 
 priate attractions of either a novel or a history. No 
 doubt a much stronger interest, of a certain kind, might 
 have been secured by a free employment of fictitious 
 embellishment, or even by a more liberal indulgence in 
 biographical details. But I have been content, for a 
 special object, to do what some tell us is to be done 
 with the Bible, — to separate, from the mass of inci- 
 dent which might have varied or adorned the narrative, 
 the exclusively " Religious Element." If the discus- 
 sions in the preceding pages shall in any instance con- 
 vince the youthful reader of the precarious nature of 
 those modern book-revelations which are somewhat in- 
 consistently given us in books which tell us that all 
 book-revelations of religious truth are superfluous or 
 even impossible ; if they shall convince him how easily 
 an impartial doubter can retort with interest the deisti- 
 cal arguments against Christianity, or how little merely 
 insoluble objections can avail against any thing ; if they 
 shall convince him that the differences with which the 
 assailants of the Bible taunt its advocates are neither 
 so numerous nor half so appalling as those which divide 
 its enemies ; or, lastly, if they shall, />ar avance, in any 
 
 degree protect those who, like Harrington D , are 
 
 being made, or are in danger of being nrnde, sceptical as 
 to all religious truth, by the religious distractions of the 
 present day, — I shall be well content to bear the charge 
 of having spoiled a Fiction, or even of having mutilated 
 a Biography. 
 
 RB. 
 
 0> c:: 
 
 

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