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THE

BAMPTON LECTURES
FOE M.DCCC.LXVII

RIVINGTONS
London  Waterloo Place
Oxford  High Street
Cambridge  Trinity Street

THE DOGMATIC FAITH
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IN BIGHT LECTURES PREACHED BEFORE THE UNIVERSITY
OF OXFORD IN THE YEAR 1867
ON THE FOUNDATION" OP THE LATE
REV. JOHN BAMPTON, M.A
CANON OF SALISBURY
BY EDWAED GABBETT, M.A
INCUMBENT OP CHRIST CHURCH, SUREITON

RIVINGTONS 1867

EXTRACT
FROM THE LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT

OF THE LATE

EEV. JOHN BAMPTON,
CANON OF SALISBURY,
 " I give and bequeath my Lands and Estates to the
" Chancellor, Masters, and Scholars of the University of
" Oxford for ever, to have and to hold all and singular the
" said Lands or Estates upon trust, and to the intents and
" purposes hereinafter mentioned; that is to say, I will and
" appoint that the Vice-Chancellor of the University of Ox-
" ford for the time being shall take and receive all the rents,
" issues, and profits thereof, and (after all taxes, reparations,
" and necessary deductions made) that he pay all the re-
" mainder to the endowment of eight Divinity Lecture Ser-
" mons, to be established for ever in the said University, and
" to be performed in the manner following :
" I direct and appoint, that, upon the first Tuesday in
" Easter Term, a Lecturer be yearly chosen by the Heads
" of Colleges only, and by no others, in the room adjoining
" to the Printing- House, between the hours of' ten in the
" morning and two in the afternoon, to preach eight Divinity
" Lecture Sermons, the year following, at St. Mary's in
" Oxford, between the commencement of the last month in
" Lent Term, and the end of the third week in Act Term..

A>1 EXTRACT FROM CANON BAMPTON S WILL.
" Also I direct and appoint, that the eight Divinity Lecture
" Sermons shall be preached upon either of the following Sub-
" jects — to confirm and establish the Christian Faith, and to
" confute all heretics and schismatics — upon the divine au-
" thority of the holy Scriptures — upon the authority of the
" writings of the primitive Fathers, as to the faith and prae-
" tice of the primitive Church— upon the Divinity of our Lord
" and SaAaour Jesus Christ — upon the Divinity of the Holy
" Ghost — upon the Articles of the Christian Faith, as compre-
" kended in the Apostles' and Nicene Creeds.
" Also I direct, that thirty copies of the eight DiAdnity Lec-
" ture Sermons shall be always printed, within two months
" after tkey are preached ; and one copy shall be given to the
" Chancellor of the University, and one copy to tke Head of
" every College, and one copy to tke Mayor of tke city of
" Oxford, and one copy to be put into tke Bodleian Library ;
" and tke expense of printing tkem skall be paid out of tke
" revenue of tke Land or Estates given for estahLisking tke
" Divinity Lecture Sermons ; and tke Preacker skall not be
" paid, nor be entitled to tke revenue, before tkey are
" printed. " Also I direct and appoint, tkat no person shall be quali-
" fied to preack tke DiArinity Lecture Sermons, unless ke katk
" taken tke degree of Master of Arts at least, in one of the
" two Universities of Oxford or Cambridge ; and tkat tke
" same person skall never preack tke DiArinity Lecture Ser-
" mons twice."

PEEFACE
IN preparing tkese Lectures for tke press, it has been my
object to reduce tke notes to as narrow a compass as possible.
I kave therefore abstained from tke use of matter simply
illustrative, and kave only given references wkere the facts
relied upon in tke body of tke Lectures or tke arguments ad
vanced were likely to be called into question, and tkerefore
needed to be strengtkened by corroborative testimony. I am
conscious of many faults in execution and defects of detail
tkrougkout tke volume. But I appeal for an indulgent
criticism on tke ground tkat tke last twenty-seven years of
my life kave been incessantly occupied by the duties of a
laborious ministry, and tkat tkese Lectures kave been prepared
under tke pressure of deep domestic affliction, and amid tke
constant distractions of parockial work.
Christ Church Parsonage, Surbiton,
October Sth, 1867.

LECTURE I
THE FAITH AND THE CHURCH
Jude 3
Beloved, when I gave all diligence to write unto you of the
common salvation, it was needful for me to write unto you,
and exhort you that ye should earnestly contend for the faith
which was once delivered unto the saints.
J.HESE words sound like the battle-cry of the
Church, the trumpet-note of the Spirit of God
summoning her to the conflict. They appeal to
the heroic virtues of constancy of purpose, forti
tude, and courage. No childish uncertainty of
conviction or womanly weakness of purpose must
characterise the " followers of them who through
faith and patience inherit the promises." Many
of the highest qualities of manhood are taxed by
war, and by none should they be so illustriously
displayed as by the saint who has attained unto
"a perfect man, unto the measure of the stature
of the fulness of Christ." Such was the appeal
of St. Paul to his Corinthian converts: "Watch
ye, stand fast in the faith, quit you like men, be
strong." B

2 The Faith and the Church. [Lect.
The need for manly vigour is not diminished
by the fact that the sphere of conflict is spiritual,
not material. The shock of outward battle calls
into play the excitement of the physical spirits and
the combativeness natural to man. It has about
it a terrible pomp of its own, and an outward dis
play singularly attractive to some, minds, and only
intensified into a sterner reality by its dreadful
accompaniments of suffering and death. The spiri
tual war taxes constancy and courage the more
from the absence of these outward stimulants. To
stand firm to principle amid reproach, steadily to
separate abiding truth from its temporary counter
feits, to resist ridicule and the strength of lan
guage often substituted for strength of argument,
to throw on one side accusations of narrowness and
ignorance, irritating as they are to a just self-
respect, to rise superior to periodic fluctuations of
opinion as ceaseless as the ebb and flow of the
sea, and amid these various influences to maintain
with singleness of heart and undistracted accuracy
of eye the truth of God, is the most difficult of
all conflicts and the most glorious of all victories.
The exact nature of the conflict implied in St.
Jude's words must be carefully discriminated. They
do not refer to the triumph of the martyr, daunt
less amid danger and triumphant over death. To
this trial the saints were called during the stroke
of the ten fiery persecutions of primitive times.
No more heroic epoch has ever occurred in human
history. It is perhaps well for the Church that

I] The Conflict. 3
our knowledge of the detailed events of these cen
turies is scanty and imperfect. Had each individual
martyr stood forth from tlie past distinctly pour-
trayed in all the particulars of his suffering and
his triumph, there would have been danger of a
Christian hero-worship. These figures of the an
cient saints would have stood between us and the
company of the inspired Apostles, and have ob
scured to our view the august figure of the Sa
viour, as amid them and above them all He towers,
single and alone, "in all things having the pre
eminence." We know that the Church passed
through these tempests and triumphed over them.
The glimpses we catch of the history of the martyrs
illustrate to us their lofty confidence in God and their
intense sight of the Unseen. There is, for instance,
something wonderfully striking in the joy with which
Ignatius appears to dwell upon his approaching
agonies from the lions in the Eoman amphitheatre.
He saw in them but a brief and bloody entrance into
Heaven, true disciple of the Master who in dying
destroyed death, and on His cross "spoiled princi
palities and powers, triumphing over them in it."
But it is evident from the context that St. Jude
looked beyond these outward persecutions to some
thing further. His entire Epistle does not contain
a word expressive of the expectation of outward
persecution. His warning is against men within
the pale of the Church herself, " crept in unawares."
He specifies the instruments of their warfare against
the truth as twofold : immoral laxity of practice
B 2

4 The Faith and the Church. [Lect.
"turning the grace of our God into lasciviousness,"
springing out of doctrinal unfaithfulness as out of
its natural root, "denying the only Lord God and
our Lord Jesus Christ." The words are re-echoed.
in the language of 2 St. Peter ii. 1. If the conjecture
of modern criticism be correct that St. Jude wrote
earlier of the two, and that St. Peter composed
his second letter after seeing Jude's Epistle and
with a reference to it, the language of the Apostle
of the Circumcision supplies an inspired enlarge
ment of Jude's inspired description. " There shall be
false teachers among you, who privily shall bring in
damnable heresies, denying the Lord that bought
them." If these false teachers were steadily op
posed, it was probable that they would break off
from "the Catholic Church," (as the orthodox be
lievers were early called to distinguish them from
heretics,) and would form parties of their own. This
result St. Jude foresaw. " These be they who sepa
rate themselves, sensual, having not the Spirit."
The warning was not addressed therefore against
avowed enemies without, but against secret enemies
within the Church, and the conflict intended is
not a struggle of endurance against heathen vio
lence, but of firm adherence to truth against doc
trinal error. The evil already worked in Jude's
days, but it reached its full development only in
later times. For a period the process was merci
fully checked by the pressure of outward violence :
centuries of persecution elapsed before the battle
of the Church took its permanent direction.

I] The Confiict. 5
Those who believe in the providence of her great
Head over the fortunes of the Church and delight
to trace its actings, illustrated by the facts of the
past as by the finger of God Himself, will adore
the over -ruling wisdom manifested in this order.
It is of the utmost importance to us to be able
to identify the pure teaching of the Scriptures
with the belief of the earhest ages of Christianity.
In tracing our own doctrinal genealogy back to
the pure fountain of "God's word written," the
faith of the first three centuries is a vital link of
the process. Had not their witness survived, the
Church of our own days might have been charged
with putting a meaning upon the sacred records
never assigned to them by the ages living nearest
to the time of their composition. For this apolo
getic reason the Church of England has ever placed
the highest importance on the doctrinal identity
existing between our own standards and the faith
of the primitive ages.
But we can trace an object even beyond this
in the providential order of things. The persecu
tions of the earlier ages were disciplinary and pre
parative to the controversies of the ages subsequent.
There can, I think, be no doubt that a conflict of
truth against error is more difficult and crucial than
a conflict of Christian stedfastness against persecu
tion, in exact proportion as it is more subtle and
less palpable. The elements entering into the ac
ceptance and maintenance of truth are very com
plicated. They he in the intellectual as well as

6 The Faith and the Church. [Lect.
the moral sphere of human action. They afford
room, as the other conflict does not, for honest
question and sincere hesitation. The man challenged
either to curse the Saviour or to endure for His
sake, could not possibly doubt the nature of the
issue submitted to him. But the man called to
discriminate between the true teaching of dead
Apostles and the false glosses of living heresiarchs,
has a much more difficult problem to solve. The
conflict no longer appeals to the obvious claims
of duty, but reaching into the inner sphere of con
viction shakes faith on its first and lowest founda
tions. The struggle is not less really a struggle,
and does not for this appeal less urgently to manly
fortitude and courage, but rather tasks them to
a nobler exercise and carries them into a higher
sphere. It pleased God that the lesser trial should ex
haust its strength against the Church first, and the
higher conflict was for a while restrained. How
the force of violence without would naturally check
the progress of doctrinal corruption within the
Church, simply by excluding insincere and un-
spiritual members, is too clear to need illustration.
The providence of our Master gave time to rear the
Church into manhood, and to mature her confidence
by trial, before He let loose the more dangerous
elements of error. Thus when the time came to
"contend earnestly for the faith once delivered to
the saints," as for life and death, the saints of the
later period could draw strength from the example

I] The Faith. 7
of their sainted predecessors. They could strengthen
their zeal by the recollection that on behalf of this
very faith the noble army of the martyrs in other
days had bled and conquered. Should they prove
false to their charge and treacherously betray the
trust for which the saints of other days had wit
nessed unto death 1
The more closely we examine St. Jude's teaching
the more clearly shall we see it to convey this
view of the Church's conflict. The text contains
four distinct assertions.
I It asserts the existence of an organised and
formal body of truth under the title of " the faith" —
not fides qud creditur, but fides quce creditur —
not the act of believing, but that which is believed.
The whole text and context so imperatively fix this
meaning on the word, as to admit of little dispute.
That which was delivered to the saints, and for
which they were to contend against false disciples,
could not be the quality of belief ; nor could it be
the revealed necessity for this moral quality, since
St. Jude is not explaining the doctrine of faith, as
St. Paul in the third chapter of his Epistle to the
Eomans, and St. James in the second chapter of
his Epistle. It remains, therefore, that the word
expresses the truth believed, and in this sense the
general consent of criticism may be said to accept
it [i]. In the New Testament usage of the word
'faith' two stages may be traced. Throughout the
Gospels it is used solely in its subjective sense, in
that meaning of trust or reliance which the word

8 The Faith and the Church. [Lect.
had acquired in the Old Testament Scriptures ; but
in the Acts of the Apostles it gradually assumes an
objective sense. Three classes of passages occur.
In one class it is used with the article in contexts
where it can only be understood of the act of faith
in the believer ; in another class of passages its
objective meaning is equally clear ; while in a
third class of passages the word may bear either
meaning ; rather, perhaps, the two meanings are
so combined together that it is impossible to say
with certainty which of the two ideas was most
prominent in the mind of the writer [2].
Now this use of the word in a subjective sense
alone during the lifetime of our Lord, and its use
in an objective sense likewise after our Lord's ascen
sion into heaven, are wholly congruous with the
circumstances. For Christ Himself is the centre and
heart of Christianity. Union with a Divine living
Person, and not adherence to a dead creed, however
great and noble, is the essence of the Gospel. This
is true now, as it was true during the term of
Christ's personal ministry. But there is this differ
ence. While our Lord was upon earth He was
Himself the Gospel, for He was visibly present,
and could be seen by men's eyes, and heard by
their ears, and touched by their hands, before He
was revealed to their hearts as the object of trust
and adoring affection. Nothing else was needed to
stand between the soul and Him, or to make Him
known to men, but Himself. Accordingly during
this period His Gospel was not extended beyond

I] The Faith. 9
the possible sphere of His personal presence. No
attempt was made to gather converts from a
wider circle than could be reached by His own
ministry. The missionary journeys of the Twelve
and of the Seventy did not extend beyond the cities
of Israel. During this period He was presented
to men immediately, and faith was the act of trust
in His office and affection to His person.
But after our Lord's death this was changed.
He was no longer visibly present upon earth, and
could no longer be known immediately. Present
He still was with His Church, in fulfilment of the
perpetual promise, " Lo ! I am with you always, even
unto the end of the world," but His presence was
spiritual, not corporeal, — invisible, not visible. Before
men could beheve in Him they needed to know Him ;
but as they could no longer come into His corporal
presence they could only know Him by knowing
about Him. They knew Him no longer immediately
by eye and ear and hand, but mediately through the
preaching of truths relative to Him and to His office
and work as Prophet, Priest, and King. These truths
were the medium of their knowing Himself. They
were, so to speak, the atmosphere through means of
which the Sun of Eighteousness Himself might shine
upon the hearts and consciences of mankind. By a
simple and easy transition, the idea of trust and
reliance upon Christ came also to involve the truths
without which knowledge, and therefore trust, would
have been impossible.
Here, therefore, is the true solution of the difficulty

10 The Faith and the Church. [Lect.
presented by the palpable difference between the
preaching of our Lord and that of His Apostles.
Undoubtedly our Lord did not teach doctrine in
the sense that the Apostles taught it. He presented
Himself to mankind and claimed their allegiance.
But it is totally to misapprehend the Divine order
to say that our Lord adopted attachment to Himself
as the mark of discipleship in opposition to accept
ance of doctrinal truths. He claims attachment to
Himself now that He is in heaven exalted to the
right hand of the Father, as much as He claimed
it while still upon earth and hiding beneath the
veil of the flesh the lustre of His Deity. Doctrines
are so far from standing in opposition to this per
sonal attachment to Himself, that it is only through
means of doctrine that it can conceivably be ac
quired. We cannot love what we do not know.
And as we do not five during His earthly ministry
and cannot watch Him with our eyes as He accom
plished the mysteries of His life and death, resur
rection and ascension, we can only know Him
through His revelation of Himself by the mouths
of His inspired Apostles.
Now all these truths are gathered round His person
and work. They either reveal what He did during
His life on earth, or what He is doing now in
heaven, or what He will do when He comes again
to judgment. As He is one, so the truths making
Him known to us are one also ; one in that organic
and structural unity which pervades them as con
sistent members of a completed body. Hence they

I] One Faith. 11
are capable of being described together, and consti
tute "the faith" once delivered to the saints.
II It asserts that this body of truth is complete,
and admits neither of change nor of addition. It
is a faith " once" delivered,' and admitting of no
repetition. Bengel's words agam echo the sentence of
modern criticism : " Particula valde urgens ; Nulla
alia dabitur fides." The word is used emphatically
for a single act. St. Paul employs it in the
assertion, " once was I stoned." It is the word em
ployed with earnest reiteration in the Epistle to
the Hebrews to express the singleness of the offermg
of Christ, in contrast to the oft-repeated sacrifices
of the Mosaic priesthood. The sacred writer illus
trates this singleness by the singleness of death :
" As it is appointed unto men once to die, so Christ
was once offered." But while the word implies an
act completed and not admitting of repetition, it
does not imply that the act itself was necessarily
done all at once, and not slowly and by degrees.
Thus St. Paul employs it for the work of grace :
" It is impossible for those who were once en
lightened." Where it does not enter into the
Apostle's purpose to assert whether the enlighten
ment was wrought all at once as with St. Paul,
or by degrees as with the Ethiopian Eunuch, but
only that when accomplished it admits of no repeti
tion. Thus the faith was delivered to the saints
not in one act but in many, by a succession of in
spired writers at very different periods of the world.
But once completed it was for ever completed —

12 The Faith and the Church. [Lect.
aira£, once for all. If the conjecture of modern
criticism be correct that the Epistle of St. Jude
was written at the latest verge of the apostolic
age, the last of all the Apostolic Epistles with the
sole exception of the 'Second Epistle of St. Peter,
then the faith was already complete when he wrote.
For neither of these two Epistles deal formally with
doctrines, except the doctrines of the inspiration of
the Scriptures and of the second coming of Christ.
They may therefore be regarded as Divine seals
put by the Spirit on the authenticity and authority
of all that had gone before.
Ill It asserts the authority due to the faith to
be the authority of God. It was once delivered.
The sacred writer does not indeed specify by whom
it was dehvered, but the language scarcely admits
of doubt. For the word "dehvered" is a word
of authority, and implies a trust committed by a
superior to an inferior [3]. It is certain, moreover,
that the person delivering the faith and the persons
to whom it was delivered cannot be the same. It
was delivered " to the saints," — where the very width
of the word includes the entire company of the
redeemed. The Apostles themselves were therefore
receivers, not givers. Thus our Lord, in His won
derful prayer recorded in John xvii, declared, " I have
given unto them the words which Thou gavest Me a."
The great Apostle, called after the rest as one born out
of due time, asserts his own knowledge of the Gospel
to have been the result of an immediate revelation.
a John xvii. 8.

I] Authority and Trustees. 13
" I neither received it of man, neither was I taught
it, but by the revelation of Jesus Christ b." The
faith is no discovery of man, no flash of light from
the intuitions, no development of human sentiment,
but a solemn charge entrusted to the saints, cha
racterised by the immutability and invested with
the authority of the Deity from whom it comes.
It was given through the instrumentality of men,
whence the Apostle spoke of the "tradition re
ceived of usc;" but the author of the trust, and
He who will demand an account of the stewardship,
is God. IV Lastly, the text specifies the trustees — " the
saints." There is no exclusive or sectional meaning
about the word. It reaches to the whole company
of the people of God. But the people of God are
not a loose mass of unorganised units. It has
pleased the Holy One to frame them into a Church,
with a visible order and polity. By virtue of the
Word of God she preaches and the Sacraments she
administers, by her doctrinal creeds and public
services and Divinely-appointed ministry, she dis
charges her office as " the pillar and ground of the
truth d;" or, as our own Church expresses it, the
" witness and keeper of Holy Writ e." Who should
so fitly maintain and defend the faith as those who
have solemnly sworn before God and the Church
to drive away all erroneous and strange doctrines
contrary to God's Word, and have moreover stated
b Gal. i. 12. c 2 Thess. iii. 6. d i Tim. iii. 15.
e Art. XX.

14 The Faith and the Church. [Lect.
their solemn belief that they are truly called to
this work " according to the will of our Lord Jesus "
and by the inward motions of " the Holy Ghost V
Who should stand forward as the leaders among
the saints but they who in every act of their
sacred office perpetually reiterate that unfeigned
belief in all the Canonical Scriptures of the Old
and New Testaments which was the condition of
their admission into holy orders 1 But while God's
ministers are called to stand foremost in the conflict,
it is in their character of representatives and ser
vants of the Church, not as lords over God's heritage.
Not to them alone has the faith been entrusted, but
to the Church at large. It is the inalienable birth
right of every Christian man. Each and all alike
have their share equally in the responsibility and
in the glory of its maintenance. The nature of
the trusteeship suggests at once the occasion of
the danger (for had there been no human agency
employed in the delivery and preservation of the
faith, there would have been no room for scepticism)
and the motive for overcoming it. The faith was
once delivered " to the saints."
These four particulars meet in one general pro
position. They involve the existence of a consistent
body of truth, doctrinal and practical, necessary to
make men " wise unto salvation through faith which
is in Christ Jesus." It is " a faith" not in contrast
with reason, but with sight and sense, since it reveals
truths with which sight and sense cannot make us
acquainted. It is a complete faith, admitting neither

1] The Scriptural claim. 15
of addition nor of diminution, for it was given " once
for all." It is invested with a Divine authority,
inasmuch as it is no creation of the human inteUect
or expression of the human sentiment, but a re
velation from God, " delivered," not discovered, and
therefore changeless as the God from whom it comes.
Its preservation in purity and integrity is the test
of faithfulness or unfaithfulness in the Church ; the
means of her moral trial and discipline, at once her
inalienable inheritance and the crown of her glory.
It is invested with the attributes of the Giver, —
unity, perfection, immutability.
This is the teaching of Scripture. It is not my
present object to plead that the statement is true
because it is scriptural. Such indeed is my deep
conviction, in common with the long line of the
saints and fathers of the Church. No epithet is
applied more frequently to the. Scriptures by the
great writers alike of the Primitive and of the Ee-
formation periods than the epithet "infallible," and
in such illustrious company no person need be
ashamed to profess his belief in this attribute of the
Word. But my present argument will be addressed
to those who deny the inspiration of the Bible,
and to them an appeal to its authority is in
applicable. Few topics occur with greater frequency
in what a Dutch divine ostentatiously calls "the
theology of the nineteenth century" than the con
temptuous rejection of the dogma of Scriptural in
fallibility. There are many degrees of rejection.
Some only reject the inspiration of its historical

16 The Faith and the Church. [Lect.
portions, and accept the inspiration of its doctrinal
teaching : a distinction intelligible, however far it
may fall short of being reasonable or may fail to
accord with the facts of the case [4]. Some reject
the inspired authority of the Book altogether, but
accept its pure and lofty morality, not because it
is found in the Bible, but because it commends itself
to their own consciousness. This also is intelligible,
however much such a foundation for faith may
prove to be a quicksand entirely inadequate to sup
port the superstructure reared upon it [5]. Others
accept only the portraiture of our blessed Master,
the alone " perfect ideal" known to man. This,
again, is intelligible, inconsistent although it be with
a rejection of dogmatic Christianity, for once given
the character of Christ, from that premise may be
proved step by step the entire .structure of the
faith [6]. Others, lastly, take a step further in
subtle distinction, and while professing still to ac
cept the Scriptures as the Word of God, place its
divinity not in the infallible accuracy of its state
ments, nor in the sublimity of its doctrines, but in
" the spirit and the life which breathe in the written
words" as contrasted with the mere flesh or letter
of the words themselves [7]. This view appears to
me not less unintelligible than it is unreasonable :
for it denies, one by one, alike the facts and the
doctrines of the Bible, and yet professes to accept
an impalpable and indefinable something termed " its
spirit and life." In other words, it regards the con
tents of Scripture as human error, and Scripture

I] Dogma. 17
itself as an inextricable mass of mythical tradition.
Yet this mass of imposture is asserted to have
a spirit and life that are divine, a contradictory
mysticism about as reasonable as it would be to
recognise the sweet breath of fresh roses in the
effluvia of a corpse. These varieties of opinion
need to be borne in mind, but their refutation does
not enter into the formal and direct purpose of
this series of Lectures.
I do not therefore affirm the existence of such
an authoritative faith as I have described to be-
certainly a fact, but for the present only affirm that
it is the indisputable teaching of Scripture. Now
supposing this teaching to be true, such a faith as
it describes must necessarily be dogmatic. For
" dogma" is only another word for a positive truth,
positively asserted in contrast to an opinion, a con
jecture, or a speculation. It is a proposition re
garded as so certainly true, as to be presented for
acceptance but not for discussion. This is the his
torical meaning of the word, both in its Pagan and
its Christian usage. In the Pagan philosophy it
was the descriptive term for that great school of
thought which maintained the reality of the know
ledge acquired by the right use of the intellectual
faculties, in distinction to the negations of the
sceptics and the speculations of the mystics. In
Christian philosophy it expresses the theology based
on the authority of Scripture and the judgment of
the Fathers. Dogma expresses a settled and certain
truth, an attained resting-place for belief, from which,
c

18 The Faith and the Church. [Lect.
as from the axioms of mathematical science, we may
confidently argue.
In this sense the faith once delivered to the
saints is necessarily dogmatic, by virtue of each
and all of the four assertions shown to be contained
in St. Jude's words. The structural unity of the
faith and the nature of its subject-matter, its com
pleteness, the Divine authority with which it is
invested, and the responsibility of the trusteeship
of the saints, are the four seals to this title-deed.
What God teaches must necessarily have the autho
rity of a command. It was the opinion of Chrysos
tom, Theodoret, and Theophylact, that the doctrines
of the Gospel are described in Scripture under this
term, and the opinion is shared by many critics of
later times [8]. But the ideas of stability, certainty,
and authority conveyed by "dogma" are confirmed
the more, if in all the five places where the word
occurs in the New Testament it is understood in
that sense of command or decree which it un
doubtedly bears in three of them [9]. That early '
in the history of Christianity the word 'dogma' was
employed as a distinctive description of the faith
at large is certain. Christians were called ol rov S6y-
naro<s, men of the faith ; and the Emperor Aurelian,
in his rescript against Paul of Samosata, designates
the bishops of Italy as e-Kia-KOiroi rov Soy/utaros, bishops
of the Faith [10]. What has the stamp of certain
truth is necessarily dogmatic. That is dogma, and
that alone truly dogma, upon which has been set
the seal of the Divine infallibility.

I] Dogmatism. 19
But a further idea has become associated with
the term, and we need to be on our guard lest
we confound it with the other. Dogmatism has
become a term of reproach, and, in our modern
sense of the word, rightly. We express by it the
habit of mind which in an over-confidence on its
own individual powers is disposed to depreciate
the judgment of other men, and to assert personal
opinions with confident arrogance as certainly and
indisputably true. Thus employed, the word bears
a very different meaning to the SoynarlXm and So<y-
fiariKOi of classic usage, for it expresses, not a
mode of thought, but a moral disposition. But
the tone of authority, consistent and necessary in
the infallible, is inconsistent and offensive in the
fallible, because by using it the fallible disavows
his fallibility. Positiveness of statement is as con
gruous with what is divine as it is incongruous
with what is human. A settled and positive truth
must necessarily be stated in words sharply defined
and trenchant, because if it were otherwise the
vagueness and uncertainty of the expressions would
attach vagueness and uncertainty to the thing ex
pressed. But in matters of human opinion the
errability of the speaker suggests modest qualifica
tion in the words he uses. The dogmatical temper is
an assumption of superiority on the part of one man
over other men, such as Job rebuked : " No doubt
but ye are the people, and wisdom shall die with
you f." It is justly offensive, and if modern thought
f Job xii. 2.
C 2

20 The Faith and the Church. [Lect.
only protested against this dogmatical temper, every
candid and honest thinker would sympathise with
the protest.
I therefore employ the word dogma for a revealed
truth, and for ecclesiastical formulas so far, and so
far only, as they truly express the mind of God
in His Word. It is a condition arising from the
delivery of the faith into the charge of the saints
that the formulating of its truths for the con
venience of instruction and defence is necessarily
a human work. Nor will any deny the abstract
possibility of human error in the process. If it
can be proved to exist, we are bound by our own
principles to give up what ceases to be dogmatic
as soon as it is proved to be a human miscon
ception or misstatement of the Divinely-given faith.
It would be treachery alike to ourselves and to
our Master to shrink from making the examina
tion, and making it over and over again, as the
exigencies of controversy call attention to one par
ticular dogma or to another.
But the undogmatic spirit of our day does not
rest on any allegation of inaccuracy in the process
of formulating truth, but on objections against the
existence and certainty of the truth itself. Not
against this dogma or that, but against all and
every dogma, against dogma at all, is the attack
directed. In this relation dogma means dogmatic
theology, a system of definite propositions concern
ing God and man and the relation between the
two, gathered out of the Scriptures and resting

I] Dogma. 21
upon them for its ultimate authority. Human
language scarcely supplies terms of condemnation
stronger or more sweeping than have been applied
to this dogmatic teaching. It is declared to be
no part of religion, but the unsightly incrustation
of ignorance, superstition, and fraud upon the pure
behef and natural worship of mankind. Beligion
is admitted to be Divine ; but theology is asserted
to be human, — human not alone in its technical
form, upon which there is no dispute, but in its
substance, in the truths it professes to teach and
the authority on which it professes to teach them.
It is contemptuously described as the result of
men's ignorance of natural science, and their con
sequent disposition to explain the natural by the
supernatural. In this relation the records of the
faith are conceived to stand on exactly the same
ground as a scientific work of two thousand years
ago would stand, accurately expressing the behef
of that time, but wholly useless and obsolete amid
the advancing science of our own days. At other
times it is described as being the creation of the
Christian Fathers, or as framed by the definitions of
the Schoolmen, or even as the product of the six
teenth century. Nay, stronger language yet has
been used. As if it were not sufficient to attribute
to it the weakness of a human origin, dogmatic
theology is declared to be a creation of Satan him
self, an immense delusion on the credulity of man
kind. As the chmax of all, to protest against dogma
and resist it in every way is affirmed to be the

22 The Faith and the Church. [Lect.
most rehgious of all rehgious acts, and a prime
obligation of Christianity itself [ii].
Thus the language of the sacred writers and the
language of "the theology of the nineteenth cen
tury" stand in direct and irreconcileable opposition.
They not only conflict in detail, but they embody
two contradictory systems of thought. The whole
conceptions on which they rest are different. From
the first principle to the last conclusion they are
wide asunder as the antipodes. The questions
involved in this difference embrace all the mys
teries of life and death, and are the most vital
and important that can touch the human heart and
exercise the human intellect. If modern thought
be right, and all dogmatic teaching is an offence
to the self-respect of man and an insult to the
majesty of God, then it will not be enough to
bring the teaching of our Church into closer con
formity to its truths, but the teaching itself must
be swept away altogether. For if there be no dogma
because there is no certain truth, then no one form
of rehgious behef ought to be taught more than
another, because it cannot be true more than an
other. If, on the other hand, the Apostolic teaching
be correct and the dogmatic faith is a revelation
made by God to man, then the denial of it must
be among the greatest of sins, and a lack of zeal
on the part of the Church in defending the trust
committed to her among the most fatal of treacheries.
In the one case the ancient pagans represented the
highest advance of human wisdom, for they regarded,

I] The Argument. 23
as some men do in our own day, all special beliefs
to be but fluctuations in the outward accidents of
rehgion. Then Christianity was a retrogression, not
an advancement in the progress of humanity, and
our effort should be to get back as fast as possible
to that ethical love of the good and the beautiful
which constituted their highest advance upwards.
In the other case "the revolution of Calvary" was
the grandest epoch in the world's history, and the
faith of Christ the rising of a Sun of Eighteousness
upon a race sick with its own miseries and sitting in
the valley of the shadow of death.
Such are the alternatives presented to us, and the
present course of Lectures will be devoted to their
discussion. It is only possible to deal with argu
ments so Protean as those of modern rationalism by
classifying them under certain heads corresponding
with the agencies asserted to be operative in the pro
duction, progress, and results of Christianity, and said
to eliminate the action of a Divinely-given and dog
matic faith. These may be reduced to six in num
ber: the influence of a ministerial or priestly class,
the force of a religious sentiment, the discoveries
of the intuitional faculty, the conclusions of the
speculative intellect, the accumulative power of a
progressive civilisation, and the instincts of natural
conscience. My argument will be directed to prove
that the dogmatic faith is no creation of the Church ;
that it* is not indebted for its influence to a natural
sentiment of religion; that its truths are not the
spontaneous discovery of the human mind; that its

24 The Faith and the Church. [Lect.
dogmatic statements do not rest on the same basis
as the results of a speculative philosophy; that it
is not a mere passive result of a civilisation far
advanced equally for good and evil; and, lastly, that
it is not a subordinate instrument of instruction
over which the natural conscience rules supreme, an
all-sufficient and authoritative judge.
But the argument will have a positive and affirma
tive side likewise. In the second lecture I shall
endeavour to prove that the Church of Christ bears
unanimous testimony to the nature of her trustee
ship, and refers the authority of her teaching to
those sacred Scriptures of which she is the witness
and keeper. Nor does this assertion stand alone,
but is supported by the clear testimony of facts.
For this authoritative and therefore dogmatic faith
can be identified and traced backwards in unbroken
continuity of descent to the first age of the Chris
tian era.
The third lecture will be directed to shew that
religion cannot survive without a creed, and never
has survived without one. In its absence nothing
remains under the name of religion but a dim,
vague, and formless sentiment, totally incompetent
to answer the questionings of the human heart and
conscience, inadequate to restrain human passion,
and impotent to correct human misery. It can
neither hve itself, nor can it give life. Dogmatic
truth is the very soul and heart of religious senti
ment, the spring alike of its reality and of its
power.

I] The Argument. 25
The fourth lecture will carry this argument a
step further, and prove that revealed Christianity
can alone supply this creed. Eeligious belief rests
on revelation only, and not on intuition. Not one
solitary religious truth accepted by any school of
opinion is to be found outside the circle of revealed
dogma. In every case without exception, rationalism
is distinguished frOm Christianity, not by what it
teaches, but by what it denies. Hence if all re
vealed dogma were swept away, the entire religious
behef of the world would be swept away with it,
and we should not be in possession of one solitary
ascertained fact relative to God and the world of
the Unseen.
In the fifth lecture I shall seek to show the
difference between the propositions of theological
science and the systems of speculative philosophy.
Speculation carries in its own professed principles
and methods the inevitable seeds of its failure.
Dogmatic theology works by a totally different pro
cess, and rests on that inductive method of reason
ing to which physical science is indebted for its
triumphs. The Divine truth embodied in ecclesi
astical formulas is not deprived of its divinity by
the human character of the definitions. By virtue
of its Divine principle, dogma lives and works.
In contrast to it, speculative philosophy is born
to wither and die. Every successive school has
started with some germ of truth, but has destroyed
it by the refinements of its speculation, till philo
sophy itself, weary of failure, has found its climax

26 The Faith and the Church. [Lect.
in proclaiming through the positivism of Comte its
impotence and ignorance.
The sixth lecture will adjust the relations of
Christianity and civilisation, and shew that revealed
dogma can alone supply to civilisation the principle
of an abiding life. The contrast between Pagan and
Christian civilisation is pregnant with this lesson.
The two were essentially different alike in duration
and in character. Pagan civilisation grew old with
the weight of its own evils ; Christian civilisation
has the elements of an eternal youth. The dif
ference of duration is naturally explained by the
difference of character. But all the distinctive
characteristics of Christian civilisation are the result
of dogmatic truths, and live or die with the dogmas
out of which they grow.
In the seventh lecture I shall discuss the asserted
supremacy of conscience over religious behef. The
theories of conscience held in successive periods of
moral philosophy will need to be considered. Within
the bounds of the same rationalism will be found
the assertion of the absolute supremacy of conscience
on one side, conflicting with a denial of the very
existence of the faculty upon the other. The fact
is conclusive against the theory of an universal
conscience and the infallibility of its conclusions.
Supposing conscience to be an authoritative and
sufficient guide wherever it is in a position to
decide, yet in regard to Divine things it is not
able to decide for want of the data requisite for
a decision. Conscience is not only tainted by

I] Prejudices of the day. 27
human weakness, but infected by human corruption,
and needs to be corrected by the fixed standard
of the dogmatic faith before it is competent to
discharge its natural function in the constitution
of man.
The eighth lecture will be devoted to gathering
up the threads of these arguments, drawing the
general conclusion, and tracing its practical bear
ing upon the dangers, conflicts, and duties of our
day. For the fair consideration of these arguments
all antecedent prejudice against dogmatic theology
should be discarded. It is very difficult to main
tain exemption from the prevaihng tendencies of
thought. The current tone of literature is apt to
produce an unconscious bias even in honest and
independent thinkers. The rejection of dogma has
itself become the common dogma of free thought,
and may be considered the characteristic principle
of writers who loudly claim to represent modern
criticism and enquiry. The prevalence of this mode
of thinking is however no proof of its reasonableness.
If convicted of error, it will not be the first time
by a great many that the common judgment of a
class of thinkers, and even of an age, has proved
to be in the wrong. The disdainful rejection of
authoritative teaching should the less disturb the
equanimity of a Christian, because it flows out of
the social and intellectual developments of the
day and the tendency of the age to lawless self-
sufficiency. The temper of men's minds is eager,

28 The Faith and the Church. [Lect.
restless, and impatient. A headlong rapidity of change
is common to all departments of human thought,
and it is no matter of surprise that religion should
not be exempt from it. At a time when a decade
of years exhibits more progress and alteration than a
century at other periods, men are naturally tempted
to forget the limitations of our human powers, and
to claim progress and modification of behef in
this as in all other directions. Nor is it difficult
to trace the misapprehensions to which the pre
valent prejudice against dogma may reasonably be
ascribed. Thus the assertion of dogmatic truth may be
supposed to fetter the free action of the intellect.
For dogma is founded on authority, and the inter
vention of authority implies a domain of truth
inaccessible to the unassisted reason. Authority
does not indeed limit the range of man's intellectual
powers, but it does assert the existence of a limita
tion. It stands at the entrance of Divine knowledge
like the cherubim with flaming swords at the gate
of Paradise, and exclaims to human genius in its
highest flight, " Hitherto canst thou come, but no
further." This restriction offends the pride of reason,
and reason, flushed with its triumphs, revolts against
it. Yet it should be remembered that it is a very
different thing to fix a limit and to assert the ex
istence of a limit already fixed in the constitution
of our nature. If there be a sphere of Divine know
ledge lying above the reach of reason ; if in this
inability of reason God has been pleased to give

1] Prejudices of the day. 29
us revelation ; if the truths contained in this re
velation, being given on Divine authority, have a
dogmatic fixity about them admittmg neither of
change or modification ; if the province of reason
is consequently confined to the evidences of a Divine
revelation, and this being ascertained to exist,
nothing is left but obedient acceptance, — it is best
and wisest and noblest to recognise the fact. Truth
is ever great, and it is ever great to' know it. To
square truth to our own preconceived notions and
wishes is the sign of weakness ; to square our pre
conceived notions and wishes to truth, making the
love of what is true the predominant affection over
all others, is the sign of strength and of true nobility
of mind.
Moreover, the self-sufficient impatience that frets
at the restraints of dogmatic truth is in the highest
degree unhealthy. No doubt it would be a glorious
thing to be as God, filling all, searching all, and
knowing all. But the trivial limitations of our
power and knowledge inherent in the commonest
transactions of daily hfe, warn us by how infinite
a distance our narrow capacities are separated from
the reach of the Infinite and Unconditioned. We
do not move a limb or do an act, but there are
involved in the motion and the action mysteries
wholly beyond our solution. To a creature so cir
cumstanced patient enquiry and a becoming humility
diffident of itself are among the most necessary
of graces. Petulant impatience disdainful of con
trol, intolerant of contradiction, and contemptuously

30 The Faith and the Church. [Lect.
neglectful of limitations, belongs rather to the fretful-
ness of an intellectual childhood than to the quiet
self-respect and reverent love of truth characteristic
of intellectual maturity. Not such has been the
spirit of the great discoverers of nature's laws, of
the men whose genius has unlocked her hidden
secrets and laid open the marvels of the universe
to wonder and to praise. These men have been with
out exception behevers in the dogmatic faith [12].
And why % Because they learned to apprehend alike
the weakness and the strength of man's intellect ;
to measure what he can do and what he cannot
do. They have not in the pride of what is
known lost sight of the immense world of the un
known, reaching within them and beyond them,
around them and above them, mysterious and im
penetrable. Nor should we forget that if authoritative dogma
places a limit upon reason, reason herself recognises
and accepts the limit. The harsh coercion of au
thority is not to be confounded with the temperate
self-restraint of the reason, taught to know itself and
exercising a wise control over its own flight. It is
an idle misapprehension to set faith in opposition
to reason, or reason in opposition to faith. There
can be no faith without an appeal to the reason,
alike to apprehend the truths to be believed and
to measure the evidence for believing them. If the
faith be from God, reason places her seal of ac
ceptance upon the authenticating proofs of its di
vinity. If this faith contains doctrine, such as the

I] Prejudices of the day. 31
nature of the Godhead and the union of the two
natures in the person of our Lord, having heights
and depths beyond our reach, reason witnesses that
it must be thus, because a Deity wholly within the
comprehension of the human mind could not be a
Deity, but would be only an impersonation of man
himself. At every step a dogmatic faith appeals
to the reason, and the act of accepting the limits
placed by it on speculative thought is no more than
the act of adoring worship, in which the created
intellect acknowledges the supremacy of the Un
created. Most certainly the complaint, that a dogmatic
faith cramps the freedom of thought and narrows
and confines the progress of human knowledge, is
singularly at variance with the history of the past.
Where will be found a succession of nobler intellects,
of profounder thinkers, of more learned scholars, of
more elevated moralists, of more subtle philosophers,
or more successful toilers after truth, than within
the pale of the Church of Christi Freedom of
thought, largeness of affection, nobility of character,
and political freedom have all been nursed beneath
the shadow of dogma. The sole exceptions to this
fact are to be found in the corrupt periods of the
Church, when she had departed from the teaching
of the inspired Scriptures and substituted dogmas
of man's making for dogmas of God's revealing.
The instinct of self-preservation required that a
corrupt Church should not allow men to think, lest

32 The Faith and the Church. [Lect.
thinking they should cease to be misled. The per
secuting spirit displayed towards Galileo in one
department of enquiry, and towards Erasmus in an
other, was only an effect of the pohcy of suppression
necessitated by the unfaithfulness of the Church
herself. But so long as the Church has been faith
ful to her trust, and has taught no dogmas but
what are contained in or may be proved by Holy
Writ, she has ever proved herself the nursing-
mother of free enquiry, religious liberty, and an
ever-advancing civilisation. The emblem of dogma
is not the upas-tree blighting everything within
its shadow, but the fertilising river carrying plenty
and beauty in its course.
To those, at all events, who accept the inspiration
of the Word of God, dogma will have no terrors.
Whatever truths there are in Scripture above the
full grasp of the mortal intellect, we devoutly accept
as part of our disciplinary probation. To beheve
them because we find them clearly taught in the
Word, although we may not be able to understand
them, is a duty of our rehgion and an exercise of
submissive faith. Truths contrary to reason and
conscience we find none. The objections urged
¦against some of the loftiest and most blessed of re
vealed dogmas we can see to arise either from- partial
conception or prejudiced misapprehension of their
nature. Such, for instance, are the common pleas
against the doctrine of the Atonement, as implying
the passion of revenge in God and involving the

II] Belief of the Church. 33
injustice of punishing one person for the offences of
another. Both ideas are such palpable perversions
of the truth, that one knows not whether most to
wonder at the perversity that will not, or at the
prejudice which cannot understand it. To the
enhghtened reason and awakened conscience the
dogmas of the faith are the subjects of endless
praise and adoration. Their sublimity and loftiness,
their breadth and grasp, their congruity with the
highest conceptions of God, and their adaptation
to the spiritual wants of man, alike stamp them
with the signet of Divinity. Our submission to
the evidence that authenticates the dogma is not
more full and absolute than our adoring admiration
of the dogma itself. On this rock we place our
feet, as adequate to support us amid the struggles
of life and the fears of death. Here we rest, con
fident that the faith which has survived the tem
pests of the past, and has remained unaltered amid
the change and vicissitude of all other things, will
equally triumph in the future. Over that victory
there does not hang, to a believer in revelation, the
shadow of a doubt. The only question is by whose
hands the triumph will be accomphshed. God grant
that it may be by our own beloved Church. Here
may she place her feet and prove herself the true
successor of prophets and apostles by her faithful
ness to her great trust. May she proclaim aloud this
testimony, and never cease to witness to the last,
whether amid reproach or persecution, if needs be
D

34 The Faith of the Church. [Lect. I
amid suffering and death, to the faith once delivered
unto the saints. Now unto Him that is able to
keep us from falling, and to present us faultless
before the presence of His glory with exceeding
joy, to the only wise God, our Saviour, be glory
and majesty, dominion and power, both now and
ever.

LECTURE II
THE HISTORICAL FAITH
Heb. xiii. 7, 8
Whose faith follow, considering the end of their conversation.
Jesus Christ the same yesterday, and to-day, and for ever.
_L HE force of these words is in no degree lessened
by separating the two clauses from each other and
turning the latter of them into an independent sen
tence. The sequence of thought irresistibly connects
the person of the Saviour and the doctrine of His
immutability with the faith of the saints. As the
whole sentence stands in the authorised version, the
words may simply denote that those who spoke
the Word of God to the Hebrews included the
unchangeableness of the work and office of Christ
among the truths they taught. The separation of
the two clauses demanded by the critical neces
sities of the passage carries the assertion further,
and converts their belief into an inspired and autho
ritative verity : " Jesus Christ is the same yesterday,
to-day, and for ever."
d 2

36 The Historical Faith. [Lect.
The words thus understood affirm the same con
flict of Christian stedfastness against doctrinal error
which has already been shown to be graphically
taught in the language of St. Jude. It would have
been unnecessary for the inspired writer to press
upon the Hebrew Christians the duty of following
the faith of their apostolic teachers unless there had
been danger of their being led away from it. The
exhortation is analogous to the warning of our
Lord against the false Christs of the days of the
Son of Man : " If they shall say unto you, Behold,
he is in the desert ; go not forth : behold, he is in
the secret chambers; beheve it not. For as the
lightning cometh out of the east, and shineth even
unto the west ; so shaU also the coming of the Son of
Man bea." The caution of the text is to the same
purpose. False prophets would arise, teaching an
other gospel. Varieties of opinion would surround
them on every side. Men unlearned and unstable
would wrest the Scriptures unto their own destruc
tion. Opinions would change and fluctuate. But
they were to stand amid all these things firmly
upon this assurance, that the Saviour who had been
preached unto them could never change. Men's
subjective notions might vary, but the objective
truth of the Saviour's nature, person, and work was
the same for ever ; a solid rock amid the heaving
ocean of human controversies, fixed and immoveable
as Him over whose cloudless being there passes not
the shadow of a change. a Matt. xxiv. 26, 27.

II] The Faith immutable. 37
The text is thus another accent of the voice of
the Spirit of God in the Word, emphatically re
iterating the assertion of a dogmatic faith given
by God to man. The fact pervades the Scriptures
everywhere, proclaimed in its positive teaching, pro
minent in its examples, repeated in its exhortations,
promises, and warnings, and not obscurely latent in
its moral precepts. Eevelation is a message from
God to man containing all things necessary to make
him wise unto salvation through faith in Christ
Jesus, a complete system of faith invested with the
authority of its Divine Author, and delivered to
the keeping of the saints. Faithfully to maintain
it, personally to live upon it, and ministerially to
preach it throughout the world, is the appointed
office of the Church ; — the instrument of her con
flict and the crown of her glory.
Thus Scripture teaches. The fact is not con
clusive in this controversy, because the authority
and character of Scripture are involved in dispute.
But the assertion puts it into our power to bring
the question to the test of facts. Could we suppose
human agency to be sufficient to have produced the
Christian Scriptures, yet no human agency can have
changed the order of the world, or have moulded
the course of its events into accordance with its
own predetermined plan. The theory of a revela
tion from the Supreme Governor of the Universe
involves certain conditions. Their failure would be
at once conclusive against the claims of a dogmatic
faith ; their fulfilment raises a strong presumption

38 The Historical Faith. [Lect.
in its favour. Let it be supposed, for instance, that
no organised Church existed, dating back its life
to the times of Christ and to the authority of His
institution; or that on putting the Church to the
question we found her never to have claimed the
possession of such a deposit of truth ; or that the
claim was a modern claim, and the further it was
traced back into the past the more vague and
shapeless it grew; or that the Church, although
she claimed to possess such a faith, could give no
reasonable account of it nor offer any pledge beyond
her own assertion for its antiquity and authenticity,
— either of these alternatives would be conclusive
against the claim.
It is evident that the reputed author of the Bible
has both omnipotence of power and perfection of
wisdom enough to control the order of the world
and the minds of men into that channel of moral
and religious trial which we find to be explicitly
stated in the Word. If He has not done so, we
can only conclude that the statement is not His.
On the other hand, if the facts of the case be such
as would certainly follow on the supposition that
the statement of the Bible is the statement of God,
their accordance supphes an argument of no little
cogency, and is at it were the seal of a Divine Pro
vidence placed upon the declaration of the Divine
Word. Whether this be the case or not is a
matter of simple historical enquiry. In conducting
it the saints of the past must be regarded as wit
nesses, not as authorities. The faith must derive

II] The Theory of Dogma. 39
its sanction not from the human witnesses who
attest the facts, — for this would be to rest the autho
rity of God upon the authority of man, balancing
the mountain upon the pin's point, — but on the
facts attested by them.
The theory of dogma includes three elements. If
we start from our own standing-point, the first in
order is the Church as a visible community of
saints, linked by a continuous succession of mem
bers to the time of our Lord. The second element
is the existence in the possession of this Church
of a body of dogmatic truth traceable to the same
period and identical in substance during every age.
Third in the calculation is the canon of the Scrip
tures, as the authoritative documents of the faith;
the fountain-head, from which aU the streams of
truth have flowed, and to which they may be traced
back. All the three, the Church, the dogma, and
the documents, synchronise. They appear in the
history of the world at the same time, that time
being identified by independent evidence with the
ministry of Jesus Christ the Prophet of Nazareth.;
They are found to stretch side by side from tha
date continuously to the present time, and the;
still exist in indissoluble union. They are thus,
when considered simply as matters of historical fact,
three distinct lines of evidence converging into one
conclusion, three rays of light shining out of one
Sun. The Church might conceivably have existed
without the dogma, the dogma without the Church,
and the sacred writings considered as ancient books

40 The Historical Faith. [Lect.
without either the one or the other. As a matter of
fact they all exist and have ever existed together, a
threefold cord between man and God.
To complete the theory of the dogmatic faith, the
relation existing between the Scriptures on the one
side, and the Church and the dogma on the other,
must be borne in mind. The Scriptures are the
criterion of the Church and the standard of the
doctrine. The language of St. Paul to the Ga
latians clearly includes this ; for the false teacher
is condemned by the false doctrine. " Though we,
or an angel from heaven, preach any other Gospel
unto you than that we have preached unto you, let
him be accursed b." An authoritative communication
from God, conveying the commission of the Church
and giving authority to the doctrine taught by
her, constitutes the theory of the faith. Whether
it be accepted or rejected, it ought to be considered
in its completeness. To leave out one part of it,
and then to condemn the rest, is a palpable in
justice. Yet with this mistake, whether consciously made
or unconsciously matters not, rationalistic thought
is chargeable. In reviewing the facts of the past,
and using them as the data for general conclusions,
the third element is omitted. The act is like taking
the pivot out of a machine ; the whole falls to pieces.
The entire aspect both of the Church and of the dog
matic faith is changed, and it is no wonder that the
conclusion should be adverse to them both [i].
t> Gal. i. 8.

H] The Theory of Dogma. 41
When the authoritative record of the faith is
left out of view, no standard of discrimination
remains between a false Church and a true
Church, a corrupt Church and a pure Church, a
Church which is no Church and a Church truly
Apostolic both in dogtrine and form. The name
alone survives to constitute the thing. To the
eye of the historian the entire Church is viewed
together, as one, and as being in every member
of it an equaUy true representative of dogmatic
Christianity. Whatever is found within this circle
is charged equally upon " the faith," and the faith
is accordingly dishonoured by the shifting extrava
gancies of superstition. Against this conclusion the
Church of England in her Master's Name emphati
cally protests. In her XlXth Article she asserts
the general errability of Churches, specifying by
name the Churches of Jerusalem, Alexandria, An
tioch, and Eome. In six of her doctrinal Articles
she charges it as a crime upon the Church of Eome
that she has taught dogmas which not only are
not Scriptural but are contradictory to Scripture;
guilty of "arrogancy and impiety0," "a fond thing
vainly invented d;" giving "occasion to many super
stitions6," "blasphemous fables and dangerous de
ceits^" In the rubrics, in the Preface to the Prayer-
book, in the Canons, and in the Homilies she reiterates
the same charge with great energy of language [2].
The sceptical critic may sneer at these accusations,
c Art. XIV. a Art. XXII. « Art. XXVIII.
f Art. XXXI.

42 The Historical Faith. [Lect.
as the sectarian fruits of dogmatic teaching; but
so long as the Scriptures exist, their truth or other
wise is a simple matter of fact. Here are the
Scriptures and here the dogmas, — the dogmas ever
held in common by the universal Church on the
one side, and the dogmas taught by special branches
of the Church on the other. Are the Scriptures
and the dogmas consistent, or are they not 1 The
dogmatic faith is responsible for its own teaching,
and for that alone.
But the error reaches beyond this. For the
claims of the Church, deprived of their historical
basis in the Word, become a mere form of human
speculation, instead of a Divine ordinance. They
are thus regarded by the disciples of rationalism,
as standing on precisely the same footing as other
modes of thought, with the authority of the under
standing and nothing else for their ultimate basis.
In the supposed absence of a Divine revelation the
rationahst, it appears to me, is unquestionably right.
The Church of Eome, for instance, has been accus
tomed in times past to accept the true inspiration
of the Scriptures, and only since she has been pressed
by the arguments of the Eeformers has she found
it her policy to depreciate their authority. But
she teaches that the rule of faith is in herself, and
that she gives authority to the Scriptures, not de
rives authority from them. When, therefore, she
is asked for her credentials, she has none to give
beyond herself. She affirms herself to be the de
positary of the authority of Christ upon earth,

II] The Theory of Dogma. 43
but she has no evidence to offer beyond her own
affirmation. The old argument of antiquity and
universality she has practically given up, and taken
the theory of development in exchange. The breach
between her and all Christian antiquity consequently
becomes wider day by day. Hence she possesses
no evidence for her asserted authority save her own
consciousness of its existence. But this is exactly
the ground of the theist, the pantheist, and even
the atheist. The instrviments of discovery used by
these several schools of thought are different. With
one it may be a natural sentiment, with another a
mystical intuition, with a third the speculative in
tellect ; but in each case the process is equaUy in
ternal and subjective. They have no historical basis,
and if the existence of the inspired records of the
faith be denied or forgotten, the Church sinks into
exactly the same position. In such a case the most
dogmatic creed, philosophically considered, becomes
a form of human speculation and nothing more.
Thus the dogma itself becomes involved in the
same confusion as the Church. I have already
stated- that I employ the word dogma in these
Lectures for a revealed truth and for ecclesiastical
formulas so far, and so far only, as they truly ex
press the mind of God in His Word. True dogma
is the expression of authority. But its claims
do not rest on the use of the dogmatic form,
but on the proof of the authority whence it is
derived. There may be Church dogmas which
are not Divine dogmas. Thus the seventh canon

44 The Historical Faith. [Lect.
of the Council of Ephesus condemns the " wicked
and perverted dogmas" of Nestorius. Our Church
positively asserts this distinction, for she rejects the
dogmas of tradition, of free-will, of justification by
works, of works of supererogation, of purgatory, of
transubstantiation, wholly and solely upon this ground.
She rests the rejection not on her own " ipsa dixit,"
but on the authoritative documents of the faith ; " the
very pure Word of God" as she calls them in the
Preface to the Prayer-book, " God's Word written"
as she designates them in the XXth Article. Take
away this ultimate standard and all dogma must
be confounded together and allowed to stand on the
same footing. No process exists for distinguishing
one part from another which is not wholly specu
lative. This is the fatal error of rationalism when
it becomes the historian of Christian doctrine. It
contemptuously throws all dogmatic teaching, whe
ther Scriptural or not, into the same category, and
visits it with the same condemnation. Look at the
Church and the dogma without the Word which
conveys the commission of the one and furnishes the
standard of the other, and the result is inevitable.
The same mistake destroys the unity of dogmatic
teaching. We affirm the faith of the Church to be
one, and ever to have been one and invariable
from the beginning. If we are taunted by the
variations perceptible in the history of religious
opinion and in the tone and proportion of religious
teaching, we reply that variations in the mode of
teaching dogma are one thing, and variations in

II] The Theory of Dogma. 45
the dogmas themselves another. We do not deny
the existence of variations of opinion and of modes
of teaching during the history of the Church, for
the faith has been delivered to the saints and the
weaknesses of human nature necessarily affect the
discharge of the trusteeship. It cannot possibly be
otherwise. But the objective faith has remained
the same, and has ever supphed the standard of
the human aberration. For instance, we admit that
the principle of religious toleration and freedom of
conscience has not always been fully understood.
It would have been little short of a miracle if
Christian writers had been able to throw off alto
gether the influence of their own times and antici
pate the character of centuries long subsequent. The
general progress of mankind, the increase of human
intercourse, the closer bonds of common interest,
the acquisition of a better mutual knowledge, and
a thousand influences of the same kind, have made
men more tolerant of diversities of rehgious opimon.
But men do not necessarily become indifferent to
the maintenance of God's truth because they become
more conscious of the weaknesses of the human
trustees of it. This progress of opinion represents
no change in the dogmatic truth of the Church,
but only a better appreciation of its principles. The
dogma is the same now as in the days of Augustine ;
was the same in the days of Augustine as it is
now. The more tolerant spirit of our own times
arises not from the discovery of any new principles
of truth, but from our clearer and more accurate

46 The Historical Faith. [Lect.
apprehension of the old principles. Faults in the
application of truth constitute no just ground of
accusation against the truth. We are taunted with
the fact that great and holy men of the past believed
it right to employ the sword of the magistrate for
the propagation and defence of the Christian faith,
and justified themselves by the authority of the
Scriptures. We admit the fact, but we reply that
the fault was in the men who misunderstood the
Scriptures, not in the Scriptures which were mis
understood. We are able to judge for ourselves
what the Bible teaches. Does it teach persecution,
or does it not 1 If it does, then charge the fault
upon the faith. But if it does not, charge the
fault upon the men who misunderstood it.
That the tone of opinion has undergone modifica
tions at different periods of the world, being brought
more or less into accordance with the true teaching
of the faith, is not to be denied. There is nothing
strange or incomprehensible in the fact, for the
saints are men like other men, and liable to the
same influences. But the change has consisted in
the proportionate prominence and importance given
to different portions of Christian dogma, not in any
alteration of the dogma itself. Individual disposi
tion acting upon mankind in general through the
influence of men of peculiar genius and aptitude to
teach or govern, the special circumstances of an age,
its external events and its moral and intellectual
characteristics, have all contributed to produce this
effect. What, for instance, was more natural than

II] The Theory of Dogma. 47
•that the early Christians, familiar with persecution
and holding their faith at the daily peril of their
lives, should find comfort in fixing their eyes pro
minently upon the power of their crucified and risen
Master and His future coming to judge the world
in righteousness 1 What more accordant with all
human experience, both within the Church and
without' it, than that the establishment of Chris
tianity by Constantine should have introduced Pagan
elements into the Christian Church and mixed up
Pagan modes of thinking with the interpretation
of Scripture 1 What more true to the experienced
tendency of human nature to run into extremes
than that men, fighting at once for political and
religious liberty, should recall the heroic saints of
the ancient Jewish Church, and in the recollection
should sometimes forget that " the wrath of man
worketh not the righteousness of God?" If the
Church has sometimes worn too stern an aspect,
if firmness has run into obstinacy, constancy into
violence, zeal into persecution, the cause is to be
found in the human weaknesses of the saints who
have, held the faith, not in the faith - itself. No
change has passed over it ; for here are its records,
unchanged and unchangeable. The sun in the midst
of the heavens does not always present the same
appearance to the eye ; but the difference exists,
not in the radiant orb itself, but in the earthly
atmosphere through which it shines.
In thus claiming that the relation existing be
tween the Scriptures on one side, and the Church

48 The Historical Faith. [Lect.
witnessing to the faith and the faith to which she
witnesses on the other, should constantly be borne
in mind, I am only pleading for common justice.
The Word of God constantly speaks of its own
office. I do not argue that what Scripture says
is therefore necessarily true. I wish to bring the
claim to the test of fact. But the claim must first
be clearly understood. The theory of the faith
as stated in Scripture itself involves three elements,
the Church, the dogma, and the Word. In ex
amining the theory by the facts, the three elements
resolve themselves into two, namely, the Church
accredited by the Word, and the dogma taught in the
Word or gathered out of the Word. For no other
Church, for no other dogma, do I plead. Our own
branch of the body of Christ recognises these, and
these alone. Her faithful children must neither
be more narrow than her comprehensiveness, nor
more lax than her jealousy for the truth of God.
" The visible Church of Christ is a congregation
of faithful men, in the which the pure Word of
God is preached, and the sacraments are duly ad
ministered according to Christ's ordinance." " Holy
Scripture containeth all things necessary to salva
tion, so that whatsoever is not read therein, nor
may be proved thereby, is not to be required of
any man that it should be believed as an article
of the faith."
From the theory I pass on to the facts. How
far do they correspond, or not correspond, with the
conditions of the theory 1

II] The Messenger. 49
I On the existence of the Church it is needless
for me to dweU. Her history is as conspicuous as
the sun in the midst of the heavens. As clearly
as we can trace the day backwards to its dawn,
can we trace the life of the Church back to the
Christian era. In the 750th year of Eome she was
not in existence. A hundred years later she not
only existed, but had spread so widely from Pales
tine over the provinces of the Eoman world, and
had struck her roots so deeply into the hearts and
consciences of mankind, that the whole strength of
the iron empire was inadequate to destroy her. In
the 850th year of Eome the Church was already a
power in the world, with a definite faith and a
collection of sacred books, and an internal organisa
tion and an active missionary agency. The hnks
of her unbroken succession from that time to this
are among the most indisputable facts of human
history, and simply as facts of history I propose to
treat them. Our knowledge relative to the historical
rise of the Christian Church does not depend in the
slightest degree upon the authority of the Bible
considered as a collection of sacred books, but on
ordinary historical testimony. The most absolute
sceptic must beheve this, unless in consistency with
his principles he believes nothing.
The first step towards ascertaining the nature of
the Church's message to the world is to cross-
examine the messenger. What is her own account
of the faith she preaches, and how does she pro
fess herself to have gained it ] Is it a product of
E

50 The Historical Faith. [Lect.
Christian speculation gradually developed out of one
or two germinal truths 1 Is it the accretion of old
beliefs hardening by tradition into a conventional
shape 1 Is it a system rounded off into logical
completeness by schoolmen 1 Is it the conscious
invention of a priesthood, taking advantage of the
ignorance and superstitions of mankind 1 What
account does the Church herself give of the message
she professes to deliver?
The reply of the Church, extending as it does
over nineteen centuries, can only be gathered from
her formal documents, or from the extant writings
of her most illustrious members. It is useless to
speculate on the number of Christian works de
stroyed by bigotry or lost through ignorance. We
must accept the evidence as it exists, and rest our
conclusions on facts however imperfect, rather than
on theories however ingenious. The voice of the
Church may ring during the early ages of the
faith less loudly from this cause, but it is firm
and distinct nevertheless, and never stammers in
its utterance. Her testimony is unanimous that she
has been put in charge of a message to mankind,
and that the truths she teaches are not her own,
but a revelation invested with the authority of
her glorified Master. Her mission, as she herself
has ever understood it, is not to propound a philo
sophy or develop a speculation, but to preach a reve
lation, and give to the world what she has herself
received, " the faith once delivered to the saints."
This conviction has ever run like a thread of

II] The Church a Witness. 51
gold through aU the phases of Christian contro
versy. The hfe of the Church in its intense mental
and moral activity has displayed itself in freedom
and diversity. Disputes have arisen concerning the
rule of faith, concerning the interpretation of Scrip
ture, concerning the hmits of Church authority,
concerning the definitions of doctrine, and concern
ing its technical expression. But amid an almost
endless diversity on other questions, on this one
great central fact — that she is the keeper and wit
ness of a revelation from God — the Church has
never faltered for an instant. From the time that
Apostolic lips first raised the proclamation, it has
never ceased to be heard amid the din of human
strife. In weakness or in strength, from lonely
wastes or from stately temples, from secret dun
geons or from the heart of great cities, amid times
of sorrow when she has witnessed in sackcloth or
amid times of imperial prosperity, the one cry has
ever been heard. The lapse of ages has not weak
ened, nor has persecution sufficed to interrupt, nor
death itself been able to silence "the voice crying
in the wilderness."
It is easy to assert this unanimous witness of
the Church to the nature of her own commission.
But it is not equaUy easy to realise what this
unanimity involves, to understand its meaning, or
even to measure its extent. To speak of the testi
mony of nineteen centuries conveys little impression
to the mind till we analyse the notion, and pass
under review, however rapidly, the varied fortunes,
E 2

52 The Historical Faith. [Lect.
the successive changes, the great events, the dis
asters and revolutions, the rise and fall of empires,
the progression of knowledge, arts, and science,
embraced within their circuit.
It is difficult for us at this distance of time to
reahse the condition of the world when the voice
of the Church first took up her proclamation, so
strangely different was it from the features and
associations of the present. At a time when philo
sophy was sick of its own speculations, when the
East was already cumbered with the ruins of faUen
empires, when civilisation had run to seed and
society was rotten with its own irremediable cor
ruptions, when the greatness of the world was
centred in spots now desolate and peoples now
effete, and when Western Europe, the present mis
tress of the world, lay in the thick darkness of
barbaric ignorance, the Church entered upon her
commission. The accents were at first the accents of Apostles
and Prophets. The voice of inspiration then spoke
from living lips what it still speaks from pages
instinct with the living Spirit. The tongue of the
Incarnate God began the message. From amid the
garden of Gethsemane and the gathering shadows
of His agony on Calvary, the words yet thrill upon
the ears of faith, "I have given unto them the
words which Thou gavest MeS." The tongues of the
Apostles echo the lesson. Peter declares both the
authority of the message and its universal purpose :
8 John xvii. 8.

II] The Church a Witness. 53
" He commanded us to preach unto the people, and
to testify that it is He which was ordained of
God to be the Judge of quick and dead. To Him
give all the prophets witness, that through His
name whosoever believeth in Him shall receive re
mission of sinsh." Paul swells the strain of tes
timony: "The Gospel which was preached of me
is not after man. For I neither received it of
man, neither was I taught it, but by the revelation
of Jesus Christ1." James rests his practical wisdom
on the same basis, for he recognises Christian virtue
to be the doing " of the Wordk," and warns his
readers against those who "err from the truth1."
John's gentle voice describes his own commission:
"This then is the message that we have heard of
Him, and declare unto youm." Jude writes of
"the common salvation" and the integrity of "the
faith11." The latest book of the Divine Canon opens
with the words, " The revelation of Jesus Christ,
which God gave unto Him .... Blessed is he
that readeth0," and closes with the warning that
no human hand should add to or take away from
"the words of the book of this prophecy P."
Here the voice of inspiration ceases. As its last
solemn accents die away upon the ear, the Church
takes up the cry and echoes on the testimony.
The single tones of her multitudinous tongues no
longer carry with them the force of an infallible
h Acts x. 42. i Gal. i. 11, 12. k James i. 22.
1 James v. 19. mti John i. 5. n Jude 3.
o Rev. i. 1-3. p Ibid. xxii. 19.

54 The Historical Faith. [Lect.
inspiration ; but the ordinary gifts of the Spirit
still remained, and His teaching was not less true,
although it was less plenary, in the post-Apostolic
ages than before. Had the number of inspired
teachers been continued and indefinitely enlarged,
faith itself would have become confused and be
wildered by the multiplicity of their teaching. The
Apostohc company, conspicuous alike in their gifts
and in their labours above all succeeding preachers
of the truth, announced the Divine message. Ten
thousand times ten thousand voices were now to
repeat, and by repeating multiply it. The Truth
was one, and the Church, like a many-sided lens,
reflected the one unchanging image on every side.
Five great periods, successive waves of time, have
passed over the Church since then. First came
the ante-Nicene period, during which she witnessed
in sackcloth. The number of individual witnesses
is comparatively small, and we are therefore able
to exhaust their evidence. A voice or two at first
sound to us out of the remote antiquity, and fresh
accents sweU the cry into a louder sound as she
gathered strength and courage from the very blasts
of the persecuting tempest. Ten times the stroke
fell upon her, scathing as it seemed her life ; and
after each blow a louder chorus of voices, proclaim
ing the same everlasting message, meets the ears.
The distinctness of the office assumed by the Church,
and the definiteness of the message conveyed during
this first period, is of especial importance ; for here
was forged the first strong link of the chain which

II] Ante-Nicene Fathers. 55
knits, by an indissoluble unity, the faith of our own
day to the faith of Apostolic times [3].
From no voices do the assertion of a solemn trust
and a completed deposit of truth issue with more
trenchant decision than from the voices of the men
whose experience stretched back into the first cen
tury, and who conversed personally either with the
Apostles or with their immediate successors. The
tongues of Ignatius, Polycarp, and Irenaeus first take
up the message, and their voices ring to our ears out
of the far distance sharp and clear as the battle-
cry of the Church. How strong are the words of
Ignatius : " For if they who do these things after
the flesh perish, how much more if they shall cor
rupt the faith of God by bad doctrine for which
Jesus Christ was crucified. Such a man being
wicked shah go into unextinguishable fire, and every
one who listens to him." Not less keen was the
sword of martyred Polycarp : " For whosoever does
not confess that Jesus Christ has come in the flesh,
is anti-Christ ; and whosoever does not confess the
testimony of the Cross, is of the devil ; and whoso
ever perverts the oracles of the Lord to his own
lusts, and says there is neither a resurrection nor
a judgment, is the first-born of Satan; wherefore,
forsaking the vanity of many and their false doc
trine, let us return to the Word which has been
handed down to us from the beginning." Clement
of Eome, Barnabas, and Hermas, in the broken
accents alone sounding from the tongue of these
primitive saints, repeat the same testimony. " The

56 The Historical Faith. [Lect.
rule of faith is but one alone, unchangeable and
unreformable," are the words of Irenseus. But as
the multitude of witnesses thickens, individual quo
tation becomes in this place impossible. Sainted
Justin, and stern TertuUian, and philosophic Clement
of Alexandria, and Origen subtle and speculative,
and lofty-hearted Cyprian, and great Athanasius
still speak, as if we heard the cry of the distant
battle-field. Not from one of them does a fal
tering word or a hesitating utterance reach us.
The voice is urgent, as in the sight of the other
world, announcing to a heathenism lying in the
vaUey of the shadow of death God's saving message
of pardon and peace.
Then followed the second great period of the
Church's history. Hitherto she had stood alone in
the midst of a Pagan darkness. Great and mar-
veUous as had been her success in leavening the
world with her Divinely-given truth, shaking the
foundations of superstition and gathering souls be
neath the banner of the Crucified, she was after
all but a little light in a dark place. The twenty
miUions of Christians witnessed amid the two hun
dred miUions of the population of the Eoman
Empire, strong in the faith and in the quickening
Spirit of God, but numerically lost amid the cor
rupting masses on every side. The hne of separation
between the two had hitherto been strongly defined
and clear. But now all at once it was broken down,
and the two nominally became one. The distinc
tion of a true faith visible to the eye of God alone,

II] Establishment of Christianity. 57
still remained ; but the external line of demarcation
perceptible to human eyes, was gone. What wonder
is it that this abrupt external expansion should
have weakened the inward life, and involved the
faith itself in perils comparatively unknown in the
time of her fiery persecution 1 The establishment
of Christianity by Constantine rather brought the
world into the bosom of the Church than rendered
the Church triumphant over the world. The tri
umph was great indeed, and I see upon the whole
no adequate reason for regarding it as otherwise
than a triumph, for such indeed it is depicted in
the vision of the Apocalypse. If the historical in
terpretation of that marvellous book be true, and
the evidence in its favour appears to me to be as
near positive demonstration as internal proof can
conceivably approximate, the victory of Christianity
over Paganism by its establishment under Constan
tine is symbolised by the hand of God Himself.
' It is presented less as a gain to the Gospel of the
Crucified than as an infliction of God's wrath upon
the Pagan world ; in the language of Gibbon, " a
dreadful and amazing prodigy, which covered the
earth with darkness and restored the ancient do
minion of chaos and of night [4]." The establish
ment of Christianity was therefore a triumph, but
it was a triumph full of peril to the purity of the
faith. No other result could follow, humanly speak
ing, but the infusion of Pagan ideas into the teaching
of the Church, correspondent to the admission of
Pagan members within her pale.

58 The Historical Faith. [Lect.
Yet the declension of the Church's purity was
so ordered as not to interrupt her witness to the
character of her commission. The charge with which
she was put in trust was yet held sacred, although
she began to think more of herself than of her work,
and in the excessive consciousness of her privileges
to forget the weight of her responsibility. The
gradual corruption of her doctrine consisted not so
much in denying the truth with which she had
been put in trust, as in adding to it dogmas of her
own which she had never received. The result
was the same in its practical effect, but less abrupt.
It was as if some stately tree, pointing towards
the skies, had become so laden with the snowdrift
as little by little to bend its pliant boughs towards
the earth.
Nevertheless the voice of the Church and her
battle-cry against the world stiU rang out loud
and clear. " That only ought to be believed con
cerning God, for the behef of which concerning
Himself He Himself is both the witness and the
author," are the words of Hilary. "As it respects
the Divine and holy mysteries of the faith," says
Cyril of Jerusalem, " not even the least point
ought to be declared without the Holy Scriptures."
"Limits are presented to us, and foundations laid
both in the structure of the faith and the tradi
tions of the Apostles and the Holy Scriptures, and
the instructions delivered from one to the other,
so through aU these the truth of God is preserved
safe, and let no man be deceived by new fables."

II] Post-Nicene Fathers. 59
These are the words of Epiphanius in his exposi
tion of the faith. Basil repeats the exhortation :
"We adjure every man who fears the Lord and
expects the judgment of God, not to be carried
away by divers doctrines. If any one teaches other
wise and adheres not to the wholesome words of
the faith, but rejecting the oracles of the Spirit
holds his own teaching to be of more authority
than the evangelical documents, avoid such a man."
"Which faith," re-echoes Gregory, "word for word
we keep pure and intact as we received it, and
judge the least depravation of the words delivered
{vapaBoQevTwv) the extreme of blasphemy and im-
piety." Ambrose spoke in the same spirit to Constantine :
"I would not, O sacred Emperor, that you should
trust to argument or any reasoning of mine ; let
us enquire of the Scriptures; let us interrogate the
Apostles ; let us interrogate the Prophets ; let us
interrogate Christ." " The doctrine of the Church,
which is the house of God, may be found in the
fulness of the Divine books," writes Jerome. "It
would be the instigation of a demoniacal spirit,"
adds Theophilus of Alexandria, " to foUow the con
ceits of the human mind, and to think anything
Divine beyond what has the authority of the Scrip
tures." Eich are the expressions in which Crysos-
tom's burning tongue enlarges upon "the depth of
the Divine Scriptures," "the secrets of the Divine
oracles," "the spiritual weapons," "the Divine charms"
of the revealed Word. "Let us hear, as many of

60 The Historical Faith. [Lect.
us as reject the reading of the Scriptures, to what
harm we are subjecting ourselves, to what poverty.
For where are we to apply ourselves to the real
practice of virtue, who do not so much as know
the very laws according to which our practice should
be guided." " It is impossible for us," is the devout
explanation of Cyril of Alexandria, "to say or at
aU think anything concerning God, beyond what
has been divinely declared in the Divine oracles
of the Old and New Testament." " These are the
doctrines of the Divine Spirit, which it behoves
every one to foUow continuaUy, and to preserve
the rule of these doctrines immovable," argues
Theodoret. From the seat of the Eoman Episco
pate how vigorously sounds the voice of Gregory:
"What indeed is Holy Scripture but a letter of
the Omnipotent God to His creatures ! " Nor must
we fafi to note the testimony of Augustine : " The
city of God believes also the Holy Scriptures of the
Old and New Testaments which we caU canonical,
whence that faith itself takes its rise by which the
just lives." Thus clearly sound the voices of the
past ; and whether we catch the louder tones of
the great leaders of the Church, or the lower utter
ances of the throng of holy witnesses, still it is
the same. No dissentient accent or faltering utter-
ance interrupts the sweU of testimony. The tone
is one and the subject one, and the message is one,
"the faith once delivered to the saints," and the
centre of that faith "Jesus Christ the same yester-r
day, to-day, and for ever."

II] Medievalism. 61
Now, however, the Church entered upon a new
phase of her life, one period passing away into
another gradually as the rainbow hues of sunset.
The mediaeval period was the period alike of re
ligious and of intellectual darkness. Learning of
a kind, and piety cramped and narrow hke the
learning, still survived, but they followed the stag
nating tendencies of the times, and were concen
trated here and there, like waters locked up in
lonely spots, and not flowing freely through the
land, carrying abundance and making music in their
course. Learning was cramped, for it was confined
within a most limited range and fettered with tech
nicalities. Attention was directed much more to the
instrumental portion of our knowledge, the mind's
tools and apparatus, than to the knowledge itself.
Words rather than ideas, arguments rather than
truths, distinctions rather than generalisations, were
the tendency of the time. It was impossible that
piety should escape the trammels thrown round the
free limbs of knowledge. It caught the formahty
of the circumstances under which it lived, and be
came narrow and angular as the ceUs and cloisters
that sheltered it.
Nor were learning and piety less limited in ex
tension than in character. They flourished beneath
the shadow of convents, where men, shut out from
the struggling world outside, betook themselves to
study and speculation out of very sickness of heart
and weariness of mind. Their spheres of influence
lay amid the general barbarism of the time, like

62 The Historical Faith, [Lect.
the green gardens beneath the monastery waUs, spots
of fresh and pleasant fertility contrasted with the
war-trodden and desolated aspect of the land beyond.
Now an age takes its character not from the few,
but from the many. Not the exceptions, but the
rule ; not the isolated instances, but the general
average fixes its mental and moral features. Hence
the mediaeval centuries were truly the dark ages.
Learning and piety appeared to hide themselves in
secret from the rude interruptions of lawless violence
and unprincipled force.
The picture was much the same all the world
over. In the East, activity and enterprise lay buried
beneath the ruins of past magnificence. In the
West they were prostrated by barbaric conquest or
pined in exhaustion, as the heavings of the storm
began to subside and peace and order to emerge
out of the chaos. Yet the witness of the Church
to the one great fact that she is the bearer of a
message from God survived nevertheless. The voice
may stiU be heard, though it sounds as if it were
stifled by authority and choked by definition.
The scholastic theology represented a new school
of thought, characterised not alone by mental ac
tivity, but also by a deep interest in the great
questions of Divine truth. On such a subject it
befits me to speak with great modesty. But it ap
pears to me that the tone and spirit of the school
men, although thoroughly impregnated with the
, Church principles of their day, is something much
higher and better than simply ecclesiastical. Their

II] The Schoolmen. 63
fatal error lay not so much in an excessive logical
subtlety, as in the purposes to which they applied
it. Had it been confined simply to the refutation
of error and used as an apologetic weapon against
heresy, employing subtlety in defending the faith
against subtlety in attacking it, its use would have
been legitimate. But they unhappily employed it
on its positive side as an adequate instrument for
teaching, and even for working out the truth of
Divine things, and thus they unconsciously throned
reason in the place of revelation. I say uncon
sciously, because the language of Anselm, for in
stance, shows how very far such a result was from
his intention [5]. Hence great and broad truths,
lying beyond the reach of the reasoning faculty, were
merged in subtle questions, minute and curious be
yond the finding out of man. Such, for instance,
were the theses of Peter Lombard relative to the
Divine Essence, whether the Father begot the Essence
or the Essence begot itself. Such the discussions of
Aquinas on the nature of truth and falsehood, and
whether the notions of "the one" and of "the
many" were contradictory. The wonder is, not that
religion should have suffered from such disputations,
but that so much real and genuine piety should have
survived amid them.
The unfavourable impression produced by a critical
account of the philosophy of the schoolmen is con
siderably modified by a personal acquaintance with
their writings. The witness of the Church to the
dogmatic nature of her faith at all events survived.

64 The Historical Faith. [Lect.
They not only maintained dogmas as the very life
of the Church, but they carried their foundations
below Church authority, to their only true and per
manent basis in the revealed Scriptures. Take, for
instance, Anselm's celebrated treatise on the Atone
ment, " Cur Deus Homo." In one place only does
an explicit reference occur to the authority of re
velation [6]. But it would be a great mistake to
conclude from this that reason and not Scripture
was made the ultimate basis of behef. In truth
Scripture is latent in the argument from end to
end. There is not a proposition which does not
j j admit of defence by Scriptural quotation. The same
deep reverence for the Word pervades the stateliness
of Peter Lombard, the tender grace of Abelard, the
pious fervour of Aquinas, and the glowing devotion
of John Scotus. It may be traced beneath the
arrogant haughtiness of Langfranc, who seems ever
to have written with the episcopal staff in his hand.
It underlies even the dry dialectics of Alexander
de Ales, the Doctor irrefragabilis, whose laborious
subtlety and ponderous argumentation, unillumined
as it seems by a sohtary spark of spiritual life, place
the study of his works beyond the power of any
ordinary mental digestion.
^ But the more distinctive the characteristics and
the greater the evils produced by the system of
the schoolmen, the more need is there to rescue
from forgetfulness their emphatic assertion of the
dogmatic authority of the Word. Thus Langfranc
declares the Scriptures to be sufficient for salvation

II] The Schoolmen. 65
because God is the author of them, and rests his
arguments against Berengarius on the teaching of
the Scriptures and " the inviolable authority of the .
Prophets and sacred Fathers." Anselm professes
that anything he might possibly have taught con
trary to Scripture was undoubtedly false, and de
clares in another place that reason is not to be
believed even on grounds apparently indisputable
if its conclusions contradict the Word. Eosceline
vehemently charges Abelard with ignorance of the
Word of God. Abelard himself declares that he
rests his convictions on the rock on which Christ
built the Church, and then proceeds to explain this
rock to be the faith, and to prove the articles of
the faith by quotations from the Scriptures. Peter
Lombard, anxious to direct his readers, under the
guidance of God (Deo duce), to the knowledge of
Divine things, adopts "the Divine Scriptures" as
"the prescribed rule of doctrine." Alexander de
Ales argues at length upon the ground that what
ever is learned from the Scriptures is taught by
"the testimony of the Spirit." Aquinas points out
the necessity arising from the faUibfiity of the reason
that we should be taught concerning " Divine things"
by "Divine inspiration." John Scotus dwells most
eloquently on the perfection of "the Divine Scrip
tures," and the wisdom of God in giving them to us
in their existing shape. He describes them as a tem
ple where God dwells and into which He brings those
that love Him ; and thus he prays—" 0 Lord Jesus,
I ask from Thee no other reward, no other happiness,

66 The Historical Faith. [Lect.
no other joy than this, that I may rightly under
stand Thy words inspired by Thy Holy Spirit [7]."
Centuries rolled on and the world entered upon
another period. Its mind and conscience and heart
awoke to life together, and mankind began to be
agitated by the first throes of the Eeformation.
The first spark was lit in the East, but was fanned
into a flame throughout the West. A freer spirit
of enquiry, a more hberal learning, and a more
enlightened estimate of the true dignity of man
sprang up together. The electric spark once kindled
could not be precluded by any straining of autho
rity from entering into the domain of the conscience
as weU as the domain of the intellect. With one
great and vigorous rebound from the tyranny of
the past the world sprang into freedom. The im
pulse was like the kindling of a fire. While the
heel of authority was trampling it out in one di
rection, it burst into more resistless strength in
another. Of that movement the Eeformed Church
of England was the child, linked as closely and
inseparably to the primitive and apostolic Church
of Christ on the one side, as on the other she is
parted by a whole abyss of irreconcileable differences
from the superstitions of medisevalism and the fixed
corruptions of the Church of Eome.
Yet this very difference only invests with the
more force the unanimous testimony of the universal
Church to the dogmatic character of the faith. The
Church of Eome, as she must now be caUed, is trebly
dogmatic, and must ever be dogmatic to. excess.

II] Reformation Period. 67
She is dogmatic by virtue of the truth inherited
from the days of the Apostles, by virtue of the
doctrines she has herself added under the plea of
development to the Apostolic and primitive teach
ing, and by virtue of the absolute jurisdiction she
claims over faith and conscience. The Eeformation
was a rebound from the strain imposed on the
human heart and inteUect by Eomanism and Scho
lasticism, and it would have been perfectly natural
if the whole fabric, compounded of what was Apo
stolic and what was mediaeval, had been cast away
together. In the rejection of the false the rejection
of the true might easily have been included. The
history of the unestablished Churches of the Eeforma
tion at home and abroad shows how strong was the
tendency in this direction. In snapping the hnks
of Church authority the hnks of inspired authority,
had they been forged of the same material and
welded by the same hand, might have been snapped
likewise. Considering the tendency of human nature
ever to run into extremes, such a result would not in
any case have been wonderful. Had the entire teach
ing of the Church been equally human, and identical
in its character and in its claims upon faith and con
science, such a result would inevitably have foUowed.
But the fact was different, and the result has been
different. Her glorified Head has graciously watched
over His Church. The open Bible, which supplied
under the agency of God the Holy Ghost the
stimulus and the object of the movement, suggested
at the same time its limits. " Prove aU things,
F 2

68 The Historical Faith. [Lect.
hold fast that which is good," was the Divinely-given
principle, and the Scriptures were the Divinely-
given standard for its apphcation. Dogmas found
to be in accordance with Scripture were retained;
dogmas found to be contrary to it were rejected.
The dogmas rejected were found to be new ; the
dogmas retained to be ancient and Apostolical.
The human additions to the faith were carefully
taken down, that the House of God might stand
before the world, like a glorious edifice, resonant
with the songs of the saints, and witnessing in
every part to the skill and wisdom of its Divine
Architect. So loud is the witness of the Church, and so
many are the voices that swell her testimony from
the Eeformation downwards, that individual utter
ances are comparatively lost to the ear. Passing
on rapidly as I am doing, they cannot be separately
distinguished. A catena of the Enghsh Fathers,
bringing the witness down to our own days, may
properly be added in an appendix, but can form
no part of the body of this lecture [8]. The facts of
the case show that the evidence is still the same
and still unanimous. A laborious ingenuity may
perhaps discover an isolated expression here and
there, which separated from its context and general
bearing may appear to express impatience of the
trammels of dogmatic divinity. But I believe that
no formal suggestion can be found that the doctrine
of the Church is anything of her own framing, or
anything less august than a direct message from

II] The Faith identified. 69
God — a completed message, fixed and definite and
changeless as the Deity from whom it proceeds.
Thus the proclamation of the saints in the first
century yet rings full and clear in the nineteenth.
The possession of a revealed message from God
to man is not an idea caught at intervals by
enthusiasts and fanatics ; held and then lost, and
then recovered ; a succession broken and inter
rupted ; but it is a succession in all ages, under
aU circumstances continuous and unbroken, con
sentient and unanimous, — a voice never for a
moment silenced, repeating from first to last the
one faith, and centering it round the one person,
"Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, to-day, and for
ever." II From the facts relative to the Church and
to her testimony I pass on to the facts relative to
the dogmatic faith itself. For it is not enough to
show that the Church of Christ has ever unani
mously asserted herself to be in possession of a
Divinely-given and therefore dogmatic faith, unless
the faith itself can be presented and identified.
The hnks of the doctrinal succession must be traced
from the beginning downwards ; or backwards, as
will be more convenient, from our own times to
the times of the Apostles. The task is compara
tively easy, because the enquiry deals with formal
doctrines embodied in formal Confessions. These
Confessions, either by the fact of their authori
tative composition in one age, or of their autho
ritative adoption in another, constitute the chain of

70 The Historical Faith. [Lect.
ecclesiastical descent. It is not my purpose to enter
into the question whether these doctrines are true
or not. I am only concerned to show that the
Church has ever held them, and that, whether true
or not, they constitute the one unchanged dogmatic
faith held by her from the beginning hitherto as
a sacred trust, to be maintained at the cost of life
itself. The natural starting-point of the enquiry is sup
phed in the doctrinal Articles of our own Church.
This basis is, however, too broad for my argument,
and needs to be narrowed. Our Articles contain
not the faith only, but the faith guarded by special
definitions, having reference to the circumstances
existing at the date of their composition, and
amplified (as other creeds have been) to meet the
exigencies of controversy. Not with the temporary
corruptions, but with the eternal truths of the
Church, my present argument has to do. I narrow
therefore the platform of the Articles by comparing
them with those priceless remains of antiquity, the
Apostolic, Nicene, and Athanasian Creeds. The
Nicene Creed, as standing between the other two,
being fuller in expression than the Apostolic, and
at once more comprehensive and less minute than
the trenchant definitions of the Athanasian Creed,
supphes the best representative of the immutable
faith of the Church of Christ. That all the articles
of the Nicene Creed are to be found in the Articles
of the Church of England is a fact too palpable to
admit of denial. I put on one side all explanatory

II] The Faith identified. 71
and defining statements in excess of the Nicene
Creed, and I take this Creed alone.
It is important to note that the articles of the
Nicene Creed when properly understood (and the
key to their interpretation is supphed by the struc
ture of the Creed itself), are not, as they have
sometimes been represented, a mere dry enumeration
of facts. I admit that they are, if I may so ex
press it, the bones of the doctrinal structure of the
Church. But the Church is a living Church, and
has ever consisted of living members ; and a living
Church involves not a doctrinal skeleton alone, but
the flesh, and form, and colour, and motions of
life. The very words " I believe" imply the moral
element of the whole — the contact of the #serted
facts with the wants and weaknesses, the duties
and responsibilities of living souls. Who is it that
believes but a member of the ruined and faUen
race to whom the purpose of saving mercy has
been adapted 1 Why do I beheve, but because the
saving purpose of the Christian faith embraces all
my personal hopes and fears for time and eternity 1
What do I beheve but Divinely-revealed dogmas on
subjects with which faith alone, and not sight, can
possibly make me acquainted \ Why do I stand forth
publicly to declare my belief, but because I bear
the responsibilities of a Christian man and look
for a future judgment and a final recompense 1 —
truths directly taught as well as indirectly implied
in the Creed, " I believe that He shall come again
with glory to judge the quick and the dead."

72 The Historical Faith. [Lect
Or we may argue in another way. The Creed
asserts certain facts concerning God either in regard
to His existence or to His conduct and agency.
But it would be blasphemy to suppose that God
does ought in vain, or without an adequate object
for doing it. The assertion of the fact consequently
implies the existence of a reason for it, and the
reason and the fact must alike be found, where
alone they both exist, in the Word of God. The
facts are not therefore dead facts, ending with them
selves, but living facts, full of meaning and power,
and linking themselves on to other influences. The
truths relative to the three Persons of the Godhead
and the history of their dealings with mankind
contain the whole economy of salvation, the entire
length and breadth of the faith. To say that God
the Father creates, God the Son redeems, and God
the Holy Ghost sanctifies, is to express in few
words the human side as well as the Divine side
of salvation. The Divine side is the engraving on
the seal, and the human side is the impression made
by it. The engraved seal pourtrays the operations
of the indivisible Trinity ; but press it upon the
heart, and it throws up in reverse the whole story
of the human sin, ruin, and suffering it was the
purpose of the indivisible Trinity to remedy.
The articles of the Nicene Creed contain there
fore the faith of the Church, and aU more minute
and detailed Confessions are but enlargements and
explanations of them. They may be true or false,
Scriptural or unscriptural, ancient or modern, but

II] The Faith identified. 73
they all take their matter from these articles. If
they be true and orthodox, as the Athanasian Creed
for instance, they do not assert one idea not already
involved in the articles of the Nicene Creed. If
they are untrue and heterodox, they are either ad
ditions to them or perversions of them. These arti
cles are the germinal principles out of which all
other Confessions spring, and by which, in the
judgment of the Church, they are to be measured,
as the articles themselves are to be measured by
the final test of the Word of God.
I have already said that the dogmas of the Nicene
Creed are all contained beyond a question in the
Articles of Eeligion of the Church of England.
They also constitute the basis of every other Con
fession known in the Church. In our own country
they are embodied more or less fuUy in the West
minster, Irish, and Scotch Confessions, and in the
Confessions of the Baptists, Congregationahsts, Ana
baptists, and Quakers. On the Continent they
enter into the Waldensian, Augustinian, Tetrapohtan,
Saxon, Bohemian, Helvetic, Belgian, and Polish
Confessions. In the East they are embodied in the
"orthodox doctrine of the Apostolic Eastern Church;"
and lastly, in the West, in the Eomish Confession
contained in the Creed of Pope Pius IV.
In reviewing the whole range of extant Church
Confessions, about forty in number [9], although
some of them exist in a very fragmentary form,
one thing is worthy of a passing remark. It is
that the later creeds, those for instance of the

74 The Historical Faith. [Lect.
sixteenth century, — a century, as was natural, prolific
in Confessions, — are intimately related to the earhest
creeds by their precise assertion of the dogmatic cha
racter of the Scriptural faith. All creeds are neces
sarily dogmatic. But the early creeds and the later
creeds agree in referring their dogmatic character
specificaUy to the authority of the written Word.
During the middle ages the assertion of this prin
ciple was dropped, and, later still, Church authority
took its place. The Eeformation again brought the
true principle into prominence, and rested dogma on
its proper basis, the Divine authority of the Chris
tian revelation.
It is true that in many of the Confessions referred
to the definitions and explanations widely differ
from those of other creeds ; but this very fact gives
to the testimony itself its irrefragable cogency.
There is method in the diversity. With the ex
ception of the Eastern and Eoman Churches, aU
the other Confessions agree in essentials and differ
only in circumstantials : in other words, their faith
is the same, and they only differ on questions of
Church government and discipline. Beneath an
apparent discrepancy there exists a real substantial
identity. With the Eastern and Eoman Churches
it is different : there the differences are in essen
tials and the resemblances in circumstantials. With
the exception of the claim of Church supremacy,
the three bodies — the Church of England, the
Eastern Church, and the Church of Eome — mainly
agree in circumstantials, but they widely and vitally

II] The Faith identified. 75
differ in essentials. Accepting the same articles,
they interpret and define them so differently that
they really become different dogmas, as wide apart
as light and darkness. But it must be recoUected,
that while these two Churches corrupt the faith
with dogmas rejected by the Protestant Churches,
they teach all that the Protestant Churches teach.
Up to a certain point — the point defined in the
Nicene Creed — the objects of belief are identical.
Within these limits, therefore, lies the one immu
table creed of the Church of all ages, "the faith
once delivered to the saints."
Now let the whole body of dogmatic truth as
taught in the visible Church of Christ, whether it
be true or whether it be false, be considered to
gether. Whatever we may think of the doctrine, let
us view the whole as one stream ; then let us trace
it backward to its fountain-head, and see what
happens. The process is the same as tracing a river
to its source. We wish to know whence it derives
its waters ; we therefore trace it carefully up the
stream, and note where every branch separates, to
the right hand or to the left. No stream that falls
in along the course can form any part of the
original waters ; we therefore let it alone, and
steadny pursue the central current, till we reach
the spot where it flows out of the broad lake or
the precipitous mountain's side. Let us do the same
thing with the dogmatic teaching of the Church ; we
shall then see which branch traces its original fur
thest back and forms part of the parent stream.

76 The Historical Faith. [Lect.
We scarcely commence the process before one
doctrine is separated from the mass and falls behind
us. The dogma of the immaculate conception of
the Virgin Mary reaches no further back than our
own memories [10]. Steadily tracing the course of
time backwards, the dogma of purgatorial fire
branches off about the middle of the sixteenth cen
tury, and dies away as a formal doctrine about the
middle of the twelfth [n]. In the early part of
the fifteenth century the mutilation of the sacra
ment of the Lord's Supper, by taking away the cup
from the laity, disappears [12]. A little further
back, at the beginning of the thirteenth century, we
find transubstantiation for the first time dogmatically
taught, and in another two or three centuries all
traces of it are lost again [13]. In the twelfth cen
tury five of the seven sacraments disappear, and the
two " ordained by Christ Himself" alone survive [14].
In the ninth century the power of canonisation for
the first time falls into the stream of doctrine,
although the tendency to saint-worship and to in
cipient Mariolatry reaches further backward [15].
In the beginning of the sixth century the Papal
supremacy is left behind, and with it the last formal
trace of the corrupt dogmas of the East and the
West [16].
We have reached a date still distant from the
Council of Nice. Nearly three hundred years must
be traced back tiU then. Yet we have already left
behind all that separates us from the Greek and
Eoman Churches. We have seen at what dates

II] The Faith identified. TI
their doctrines one by one arose, and where they
feU into the central stream. We now stand far
above them, and yet the river itself has become no
scanty stream, no trickling brook, weak and shallow.
It yet flows on, a river of truth, deep, broad, and
strong, only the swifter because the banks have nar
rowed on either side. Still we trace it back, the
faith of our own beloved Church and the faith of
the Nicene Fathers flowing together, a stream of
truth one and indistinguishable.
And now we have reached Nicsea, and yet we have
not arrived at the fountain-head. Thirteen creeds
or fragments of creeds stiU lie between us and the
first parent spring of all, bearing the same general
character, reflecting the same truths. Further back
therefore flows the river. The original spring is
still beyond us ; although every voice now loudly
proclaims where it is, and what. StiU we take no
man's word, but from saint to saint carefuUy trace
the current to its source. Further back than the
time of Irenaeus the line of descent for a brief
period becomes comparatively obscure. Intimations
of a formal definite creed may be found in Ignatius,
Clemens Eomanus, Polycarp, and Justin Martyr, but
they are fragmentary and uncertain. The period is
like some reach of the earthly stream, where, amid
the precipitous rocks and overhanging woods, its
exact course cannot be positively traced. A little
further on and the full river breaks into view again.
We tread with reverent hearts and holy fear, for we
are close to the fountain-head. We are looking into

78 Tlie Historical Faith. [Lect.
the first century of the Christian era, and here
we find the abysmal depth whence the glorious
river flows. It may be traced yet further back in
deed even than this, but it is through secret
channels, through type and symbol and ceremony and
prophecy, with the clear light of day breaking upon
it here and there ; but rather like a river flowing
underground than like a river in the full light of
day, challenging by the strength of its first rush
and the loud music of its flowing depths the eyes
and ears of men. We are looking into the first cen
tury. Let us as it were go round, and get, so to
speak, at the back of the cavernous profound whence
the stream of truth rushes into the dayhght. Let
us go back to the year 750 of Eome, and behold!
the open river is not. Somehow in that myste
rious century it has its earthly birth. Here, explain
it how you will, here, for an historical certainty, the
faith begins. This admits of no denial. The proofs
that the articles of the Nicene Creed are deduced
from the Scriptures exist in the familiar text-books
of the University. Whatever may be concluded as to
the character of the Scriptures, it is certain that
they and the faith sprang into being together ; and
their birthday is in the period to which step by step
I have traced the genealogy back. We stand, as it
were, looking at the depths mysterious, yawning be
neath and before the eye, inscrutable and unfathom
able, whence the waters spring into the daylight.
Look and watch and wonder. What spring is ca
pacious enough to have given them birth % The

II] The Faith identified. 79
channel itself we can see to be human as ourselves,
though of finer and purer soil, as if the ever-gushing
fountains of truth close by had clothed it with peren
nial beauty and verdure. Whence it issues the out
ward eye cannot ' see. The spring is there where no
human hand can reach, no human foot can tread.
It lies in the unseen, not the seen. Stand and watch
the waters. All the dear familiar truths are there,
known to us from our childhood, almost the very
words in which the Church is accustomed to express
them. How sweetly, purely, freshly, vigorously they
well forth from the fountain infinite, for that fount
is — God.
Here then we find both the witness to the fact
and the fact itself coincident. The Church from the
very beginning to the very end has consistently
declared herself to be in possession of a sacred gift
of truth, a solemn charge from God. Had the faith
entrusted to her been lost, we might have regarded
the assertion as the instinct of an ignorant fanati
cism or the extravagance of a self-exalting pride.
But here the faith is, traceable from own days to
the days of the Apostles, unchanged and unchange
able. The facts are plain historical facts ; they lie
within the reach of any man's examination. In the
face of them to speak of dogmas as the modern
creation of the Church, to refer them to the six
teenth century, or to the Schoolmen or to the an
cient Fathers, is either ignorance or carelessness. To
put out of view the plain fact that the dogmatic
faith and the Scriptures synchronise, and must either

80 Tlie Historical Faith.
be accepted together or rejected together, is a gross
injustice. The theory of the Scriptures and the actual facts
of human history are consistent with each other
throughout. It is useless to battle against the
theory, unless the hand of the objector can also
sweep away the facts. The marveUous coincidence
between the two is itself a. fact, pervading aU the
other facts ; and it penetrates through the distant
haze of time and the shifting lights and shadows of
human events, as if it were a smile from the face
of Christ Himself, the shining of His cloudless light
and truth who is " the same yesterday, to-day, and
for ever."

LECTURE III
THE RELIGIOUS SENTIMENT
Eph. ii. 12
Without Christ, being aliens from the commonwealth of Israel,
and strangers from the covenants of promise, having no hope,
and without God in the world
J. HE existence of the dogmatic faith as an histo
rical fact is wholly independent of any opinion that
may be formed regarding its origin or character.
The fact rests on precisely the same evidence as the
ordinary facts of history. A series of writings,
genuine and authentic beyond controversy, reach
from the present time back to the first century of
the Christian era, and attest, at each successive stage
of the descent, ahke the existence of the faith and
its identity. Two further questions immediately arise:
whence this faith has been derived, and what is the
amount of its authority. The latter question is in
volved in the former. The range of enquiry is limited
to the first three centuries of the Christian era.
Evidence of the strongest character may be adduced
for referring the origin of the faith to a date earher
than the CouncU of Nice, for the ante-Nicene Fathers
G

82 The Religious Sentiment. [Lect.
reach back to the close of the first century. At this
date they themselves refer the origin of their faith to
the sacred Scriptures, which must therefore neces
sarily have been anterior to their own time. But
without pressing this fact to the utmost, it must in
any case be admitted that the origin of the Christian
faith must be traced to a period earher than the
third century after Christ. The Nicene Creed fixes
this date. For here we find the doctrines of the
faith not diffused through various books, or latent
in reference and aUusion, but already formulated and
methodised, expressed in a strict theological lan
guage, and classified in a logical synthetic order.
A considerable period of time must have elapsed
before the faith could have created its own lan
guage, literature, and organisation.
But is the account given by the Church of the
beginning of her own faith credible and true? She
has ever consistently affirmed that she received it
by revelation from God, through men specially in
spired for that purpose. Inasmuch as the revelation
so given includes all things necessary for faith and
practice, it can admit neither of enlargement nor
diminution. It is therefore dogmatic ex hypothesi,
because it was delivered by authority of God, not
gained by discovery of man ; and what man in no
way created, man can in no way change. This is
the account given by the Church. That the saints
themselves devoutly believed it to be true is proved
by the sacrifices they made for it, the devotedness
of their lives, and the heroic constancy of their

Ill] Origin of Religious Ideas. 83
deaths. But perhaps they were themselves deceived.
Such is the suggestion of modern rationalism, and
several natural influences have been specified, to
which it is beheved that the origin of Christianity
can be much more rationally referred, than to a super
natural revelation. My object is to test these sup
posed causes one by one, and examine their adequacy
to produce a result so memorable as the faith, and
effects so wide in their reach and so ennobling in their
character, as the results of Christian civilisation.
It is not enough in answering this question to
trace the faith back to the Scriptural books, or to
show that every article is either clearly contained in
the Holy Scriptures, or gathered from it. The cha
racter of the Scriptures themselves is called into
discussion. According to the modern idea, they are
not the creators of the faith, but the product of it,
the embodiment of the religious consciousness of a
particular period of the world. The faith therefore
and the books containing it are involved in the same
suspicion, and must be considered together. The
question is thus rendered more specific. The faith
and the Scriptures must stand on one side, and the
cause producing them, whatever it may be, on the
other. The cause must precede the effect, and be
distinguishable from it, however much they may act
and react on each other.
Foremost among the causes alleged to have been
operative, is the religious instinct. That a religious
sense or sentiment or emotion, whichever it may be
called, exists in the human heart independently of
G 2

84 The Religious Sentiment. [Lect.
the dogmatic faith contained in the sacred books, is
undeniable. It has been found to exist where the
books are unknown and the specific religious doc
trines of Christianity have never been preached.
A belief of some kind in a deity of some kind, if
not absolutely universal to all known tribes of hea
thendom, is, at all events, almost universal. Some
times it is a dim superstition, vague and terrible,
such as holds in chains the benighted heart of suffer
ing Africa ; a formless, shapeless dread of evU spirits,
the more oppressive because it cannot be reduced
into definite form or brought within the reach of
the understanding. Sometimes it is a dark mono
theism, because it is the worship of a great spirit,
terrible not beautiful in his attributes, dreadful not
glorious in his doings. Sometimes it is a gross
polytheism, not only shaping the powers of nature
into a host of divinities, but tracing the spark of
deity in dead things and objects revolting and offen
sive. Sometimes it is a worship of the Evil One,
conceived in fear, and finding expression in the fires
of the Phoenician Moloch or the dreadful sacrifices
of the Mexican divinities. But whatever may be
its special shape, a rehgious belief of some kind,
associated with some form of inward consciousness
and outward worship, has ever been found to con
stitute a characteristic of the heathen world, whether
in the heart of huge continents or in smiling islands
green in everlasting beauty, whether beneath the
heat of the tropics or amid the everlasting snows
and ice-bound solitudes of the pole.

Ill] Origin of Religious Ideas. 85
It was long supposed that no exception whatever
existed to this common consciousness of the human
soul. Christian apologists have been in the habit
of arguing on this supposition. The assertion can
no longer be very confidently maintained in this
extreme form. One exception is asserted to exist,
although it must be admitted that the evidence is
as yet partial and inconclusive. The Andamanese
are said to have no religion [i]. Should the fact
be established, it modifies the Christian argument
to a certain extent, but strengthens it in the modi
fication. If a religious consciousness were an uni
versal attribute of man, it would justify a belief in
an innate rehgious sense, constitutional and con
genital, and by the creating wiU of God inseparable
from the structure of the soul itself. Some reh
gion would then be antecedent to all revelation.
But if its existence be only general and not abso
lutely universal, the consciousness can no longer be
considered to be a part of the soul itself, but some
thing bestowed upon it from without, that is from
above. The first origin of our religious ideas must
be transferred from nature to revelation. The reh
gious constitution of the soul would consist in its
receptivity, being like a sensitive photographic plate
affected by the most delicate ray of hght, but in
the absence of that ray to evoke its latent capacities
blank and empty. In this case the aU but univer
sality of the tradition would establish the primeval
unity of the human race with a force of evidence
little short of demonstration,

86 The Religious Sentiment. [Lect.
At all events the religious consciousness is general,
if no more [2]. It is the tendency of modern
thought to regard this sentiment as religion, and as
its only essential and eternal element [3]. Beligion
is thus sharply severed from theology ; for theology is
the science of revealed dogmas, and revealed dogmas
are asserted to be no part of religion. Eeligion
is therefore regarded as one thing, and theology as
another. Doctrines, points of specific belief, are con
sidered to be human incrustations on rehgion, and not
a part of it. Beligion is the first antecedent cause,
a flame burning brightly in the human soul where
it is not darkened by what are esteemed to be the
theories of priestcraft or the credulities of super
stition. This religious consciousness is therefore the
one formative principle of which all religious systems
are but distorted developments, the offspring of
ignorance or of imposture. In the dark times of
the past the imperfect acquaintance with the natural
created an ignorant belief of the supernatural. What
men did not understand was supposed to be miracu
lous. Thus they referred to unseen agents of another
world what we now know to be the result of natural
and ordinary causes. Physical science has dissipated
these delusions, and by resolving back the super
stitions of the past into the results of its ignorance
is enabled to strip the false from the face of the
true, and to present once more the original and
universal religion in its purity and grace.
Thus modern thought pleads. In order to bring
the assertion to the test of examination, let us

Ill] Feeling without Conviction. 87
analyse the sentiment itself, and ascertain to what
it amounts. For if it is to be considered as the
germinal source of aU religious action, it must have
substance and reality. A mere feeling, vague, dim,
and formless, too indefinite to be stated in a pro
position, can scarcely be deemed sufficient by any
one to satisfy the wants of the soul ; still less suffi
cient to produce out of itself an elaborate system of
belief; still less to exercise a moral discipline over
the passions and irregular impulses of man. A sub
jective emotion with no reality to answer to it. can
scarcely be the religion of a rational and immortal
being. The very lights and shadows that come and
go over the landscape and leave no trace behind on
the earth they darken into gloom or paint with ten
thousand hues of beauty, have a substance and
a life and a cause. A religious emotion devoid of
dogma, but beginning and ending as an emotion, is
more unreal even than they. It is absolutely un
substantial — a thing causeless and self-created, not
only without a form but even without a name, in
distinguishable as the spectral shadow of death con
ceived by the genius of MUton —
"If shape it might be called that shape had none
Distinguishable in member, joint, or limb,
Or substance might be called that shadow seemed,
For each seemed either."
The very conception of such a religion is a contra
diction to the constitution of the human soul. We
are endowed with the capabUity of feeling and with

88 The Religious Sentiment. [Lect.
an exquisite sensitiveness of emotion. But there
must ever be something to call the feeling and the
emotion into existence, some reality to which they
more or less accurately correspond. Were the case
otherwise, the soul would be a mere region of ghosts.
There are indeed feelings and sensations that come
and go over the soul, so subtle in their nature and
so dependent on fine and secret sympathies, that we
cannot always analyse them. So difficult is it some
times to perceive their connexion with recognised
thought, or their dependence on any known law of
our mental selves, that they appear as if they were
reflections out of the unseen world, shadows cast
upon the soul's finer powers by realities lying as
yet equally beyond the reach of the senses and the
comprehension of the intellect, But this very feeling
is the unconscious witness of the understanding that
there are realities corresponding with them some
where. For the intellect and the heart of man are
cast after all upon the same mould. The intellect is
unable to conceive objects attested by no past expe
rience, direct or indirect. An object whoUy different
from anything we have ever seen or known by our
own knowledge or by the description of others,
could neither be conceived in thought nor expressed
in words. Feeling follows in this respect the same
law as thought. Itself more quick and subtle, more
spontaneous and variable, it can no more spring
out of the non-existing than thought can do. Some
where or other, even should the sphere be too deep
for analysis, must exist realities to which feeling

Ill] Feeling without Conviction. 89
corresponds. In the absence of all knowledge of
the reality, the feeling itself would die. Anything
different from this would be creation, and any being
not subject to this law would be God, not man [4].
Now let it be borne in mind that if Divine
realities exist and are known to exist, dogma must
exist likewise. Dogma is but the statement of truth,
and acquires its positive character from the invaria
bility of truth. To say that there is no dogma, is
either to say that nothing Divine exists, or that
nothing is known to exist. Let us try the reli
gious sentiment by this test.
Either there is a reality corresponding to the
sentiment, or there is not. There is, for instance,
a religious feeling in the soul reaching out to a
world unseen, and gathering itself, more or less
definitely, around the notion of a Supreme Being.
Either the unseen world and the Supreme Being
exist, or they do not.
Let me first suppose that they exist. The existence
must be known to us under modes and conditions.
To state them is dogma; to know them is to know
dogma. In proportion as they are known, the re
ligious sentiment must shape itself into correspond
ence with them. It takes the form of love towards
a being believed to be beautiful ; or of fear towards
a being believed to be terrible ; or of trust towards a
being beheved to be kind and wise ; or of cringing-
submission to a being believed to be cruel and severe.
But in every such case the faith has become dog
matic, and the sentiment has moulded itself to the

90 The Religious Sentiment. [Lect.
dogma. But suppose that the unseen world and the
Supreme Being do exist, but are not known. The mind
guesses at their existence and its modes, the sensitive
soul gropes in the darkness and feels if haply it
might find them. In this state the rehgious senti
ment remains a sentiment only because the reality is
not discovered. The absence of dogma is simply the
absence of knowledge, and the indefinite sentiment
of the heart is the expression of the ignorance of the
head. Is ignorance good, and to be coveted ? Is it
the nursing-mother of progress and civilisation ? Is
it the crown and climax of nineteen centuries of
definite knowledge and positive revelation? But if
rehgion be the sentiment without the dogma, this
is the inevitable conclusion. Then indeed the sneer
of the infidel is true, and religion altogether is but
the superstition of the ignorant or the idle credulity
of the fool.
But let the other alternative be considered. Let
it be said that the religious sentiment is undogmatic,
not because we do not know the world unseen, but
because there is no such world to be known. No
reality exists to which the religious sentiment corre
sponds. Does it not follow in this case that the
sentiment is unreal likewise, a creation of the imagi
nation, a vague sense of moral want, reaching after
what is not and never has been, a sentiment as
whoUy without power as it is without vitality ?
Yet to this religion itself is reduced when separated
from dogma, that is, from theology. Let the doc
trines be stripped away, and nothing remains but

Ill] Religion without Dogma. 91
the sentiment. If religion be prior and superior to
theology, it must of course be distinct from it. To
see what religion is on this supposition we must take
theology away. The Trinity of Persons in the unity
of the Godhead ; the creative work and claims of the
Father ; the eternal Deity of the Son ; His incarna
tion, life, sufferings, death, resurrection, ascension,
session in glory, return to judgment and final king
dom ; the procession of God the Holy Ghost ; His
work in the inspiration of the Scriptures, and in the
conversion and sanctification of the heart, — must aU
be rejected, for these are the technical propositions of
the Nicene Creed. With them must be rejected the
resurrection of the body, the future judgment, and
heaven and hell, as directly asserted; and the fall of
man, the depravity of the heart, and the necessity of
atonement and regeneration as indirectly implied.
But when all these truths are gone, all definite re
ligious motives are gone likewise, because aU definite
behef is gone. The Church of Christ in the enjoy
ment of her glorious faith was like Israel in the
midst of a goodly land of fountains and depths
springing out of valleys and hills. But now the
Church has gone back into the wilderness, with no
grand heights to break the dead monotony, no rich
vegetation to gratify the eye, no pleasant streams
of joy and holy hope to make it rich in love and
musical with praise.
When religion has thus been separated from all
theology, what remains of religion itself? It has
become, naked Theism. It may be an enlightened

92 The Religious Sentiment. [Lect.
Theism, compared to the belief of ancient times, for
the unconscious influence of Christian truth has
moulded men's modes of thinking, in regard to
Divine things, too deeply to admit of its being
shaken off. Thus the God of modern thought is
not the terrible Deity of ancient paganism or of
savage idolatry in modern times, but distinctively
a God of benevolence and love. The whole tenden
cies of modern feeling have thus far coloured our
conception of the Deity, and the knowledge obtained
of the marveUous adaptations of the material world
have aided in transforming the frightful Theism of
ancient times into the beautiful and light-clothed
angel of our own day. But this mode of feeling
has itself grown up under the sheltering wing of
Christian dogma, and has never existed to the fuU
apart from it.
This Theism has, moreover, an inevitable tendency
to give less and less prominence to the personahty of
God in proportion as positive dogma relative to the
Divine Being is more and more merged in subjective
sentiment. It resolves itself in a great degree into
Pantheism, for prominent among the dogmas rejected
as human perversions of the religious sentiment, is
the belief in the supernatural. But what is called
the supernatural is nothing more than the interference
of the Divine Personality in the course of human
things, modifying by His agency the operation of
His own laws, just as man himself modifies them by
his personal agency in every production of his skUl,
and every action of his life. In the place of personal

Ill] Theism and Pantheism. 93
action is substituted natural law, supposed to be con
stant and invariable, and therefore to supersede the
possibility of a Divine interference.
The very conception will, I believe, be found on an
accurate analysis to be unphilosophical, and there
fore untrue. For it rests on a confusion between
a law and the power enacting a law. A law is
itself not a power, but a product ; the expression
of a will which stands towards it as an antecedent
to a consequent. As ordinarily used by the ablest
of the modern school, it represents a mere summary
of effects rather than the operation of a cause ; the
statistical statement of a fact rather than the ex
planation of an efficient energy. But on this I can
not dweU. My present purpose is only to remark
that in denying the personal agency of God in human
things we practically deny the personality itself ; we
relegate it to the sphere of the unknown and the
unpractical. In proportion as we substitute natural
law for personal agency we merge Theism into
Pantheism. Nor is this all. For if the Theism be definite, that
is, if it be founded on a behef in positive truths rela
tive to the Divine existence, nature, and character, in
that proportion dogma stUl survives. Dogma is the
formal statement of a positive belief, and to get rid
of the dogma we must get rid of the belief. All the
sharp lines defining our conceptions of God must
therefore be taken away, for all these are dogmatic.
Guesses too uncertain to be asserted, and specula
tions too vague to be defined, alone remain. The

94 The Religious Sentiment. [Lect.
statement of "what is" is changed into the stam
mering and hesitating suggestion of something that
"may be." The Theism itself becomes subjective
only, a thing of many shapes and forms, which
chameleon-like changes its colours with the mental
and moral peculiarities of the thinker.
Here we find the answer to another plea lying in
the course of my argument. The ultimate end of aU
religion is confessed to be God, and its ultimate
object union of the soul with God. If the soul by
its own inherent powers of thought and feeling can
attain to this union, by intuitive instinct or medi
tation, as the Neo-Platonists believed, why argue for
the retention of dogmatic truth as a means of this
union when the union can be attained without it ?
If there may be an immediate contact of heart and
affection between man and God, why do we need this
elaborate system of belief. In ancient times, when
the human intellect was less enlightened, when the
soul knew less of its own wondrous gifts and far-reach
ing capacities, when the laws of its own operations
and of the outer world around it were alike un
known, the aid of dogmas may have been necessary.
But the human mind has now outhved the need, and
allying itself by an immediate sentiment of religion
with God, indignantly flings away the effete doctrines
of the past, as the man rejects in the maturity of his
strength the toys of his childhood. The result pre
viously shown to foUow on the separation of religion
from theology has already suggested the answer. We
acknowledge that union with God is the ultimate

Ill] Union with Deity. 95
object of religion ; but we deny that a sentimental
Theism is competent to produce it.
Such an union must depend either on intellectual
conception, or on moral sympathy, or on both. But
intellectual conception cannot exist where there is
no knowledge of the facts of the Divine nature and
character. Without the doctrines contained in the
Bible we know nothing for certain of God. He may
be a glorious Being, reposing idly from everlasting to
everlasting in the abysses of His own sublime self-
consciousness and never emerging into contact with
human things. He may be a dreadful Fate, marching
on His inexorable way utterly indifferent to the joys
or sorrows of the individual men and women making
up the great total of humanity. He may be a mere
name for the sum of all things, an abstract idea of
human creation. We know not. Having rejected
all dogma we are absolutely in the dark, and neither
know anything for certain nor can know anything
for certain. We have barred the very portals of the
temple of truth against our own entrance, for directly
we gain positive truths we get dogma, and are
thus endlessly involved in the meshes of our own
self-contradictions. There can be no intellectual
conception where there is no definite notion, and
there can be no inteUectual contemplation where
there is no intellectual conception,
Nor can moral sympathy survive, where there is
no knowledge of the qualities of the Being with
whom we are to sympathise. If we know nothing
about God, His attributes may be shocking to us,

96 The Religious Sentiment. [Lect.
and utterly alien from everything in ourselves, for
aught we know to the contrary. If this cannot be,
and we say such a Being cannot be our God, then
we are slipping back into dogma again, although
it be but a dogma of our own. We become creators
of an ideal Being, and with him we sympathise.
That ideal is but a reflection of the inteUectual and
moral self. In other words, we sympathise with
ourselves, not with God.
I can conceive one other objection, and only one
other, capable of being urged against the conclusion
that if we destroy dogma we destroy rehgion : — if
we admit religion we must admit dogma. It may
be said that I am too sweeping in my conclusions,
that the objection is not against all dogma but only
against Christian dogma, the particular system of
theological doctrines deduced from the Scriptures and
dependent upon their authority. The relation exist
ing between the technical statement of these truths
by the Church and the teaching of the Scriptures will
remain for future consideration. Meanwhile, let it
be seen whether it be possible in objecting to dogma
as dogma, to draw a line short of the rejection of all
positive belief, and if it be, at what point it can be
drawn. Look round the whole range of religious be
lief and see what common truths there are concerning
God and our relations towards Him which are not
included in the circle of revealed doctrine. I believe
you wiU not find a solitary one. There are certain
common features traceable in the rehgious sentiment
found to exist universally among mankind, with one

Ill] Doctrines of Heathenism. 97
possible exception, aU the world over. But every
one of these is contained in the Scriptural theo
logy, and is dependent on it for its definiteness and
authentication. Moreover aU these features, with
one exception, are earnestly repudiated by the free
thought of our day, and can therefore form no part
of its original and undogmatic religion.
Thus a belief in the doctrine of human sin may
be traced ahke amid the traditions of savage idolatry
and the speculations of Pagan philosophy. But
modern free thought indignantly rejects it, and
considers the notion of an hereditary stain, or of an
inherent depravity of all mankind, to be among the
most monstrous of dogmas. Thus a behef in the
necessity for an atonement, sometimes expressed in
a manner shocking to all the instincts of human
affection, has existed as widely as human nature
itself. But this also modern free thought rejects,
denying atonement in any sense of a vicarious
sacrifice, and only admitting it, if at aU, in the sense
of moral reconcUiation. Thus a behef in some kind
of purgative process, to be accomplished on human
nature before it can find access to a holy Deity, is
co-extensive with the faintest traces of religious sen
timent, however external and superficial the senti
ment may be. But this too modern free thought
rejects, holding that man needs no other intercessor
than himself ; no other purification than the honesty
of his own search after truth. Thus a behef in a
future life of rewards and punishments has been
found to exist alike amid the jungles of the tropics
H

98 The Religious Sentiment. [Lect.
and the sterile sohtudes of the North, in the heart of
terror-stricken Africa and among the splendid savages
inhabiting the sunny isles of the Pacific. But this
hkewise modern free thought rejects as equally dis
honourable to the goodness of God and offensive to
the just independence of man.
Now these four beliefs, as they exist among
the heathen, are the traditional remains of great
truths originally given by revelation. In what I
may call their natural state they are dim shadows,
and Christian dogma gives them permanent form and
reality. Thus the doctrine of human sin is explained
by the narrative of the creation and the fall ; the doc
trine of the atonement is copiously iUustrated and
cleared of all its shocking human perversions by the
doctrine of the vicarious sufferings and death of the
God incarnate ; the acknowledgment of man's need of
a purgation finds its complement and satisfaction in
the doctrine relative to the person and work of God
the Holy Ghost; the behef in future rewards and
punishments is realised in the Scriptural doctrine
of the resurrection and the judgment, and heaven
and hell.
One doctrine alone remains held in common by
modern free thought and by the Christian faith ; I
refer to the belief in the merciful and benevolent
attributes of God. I fully admit that a man is
quite free, whUe he rejects the great mass of Chris
tian dogma because it appears to him to be in itself
incredible, to accept this one dogma of the Divine
goodness and benevolence because it appears to him

Ill] Character of God. 99
to be in itself credible. There is nothing inconsistent
in such a position logically considered, but it must
be modified by other considerations.
Thus it may justly be urged that in rejecting the
doctrines of salvation we deprive ourselves of the
great evidence of the Divine love. The proof from
creation remains, but unless supplemented by the
proof from redemption, is not strong enough for
conviction. For if on one side there are in creation
and Providence clear traces of goodness, there are
also traces equally clear of severity and chastisement.
As a matter of fact, persons have become Atheists
because they have been unable to reconcile the
apparent disorder and miseries of life with the
existence of a benevolent God [5]. It must, I
think, be admitted that if the disciplinary purposes
of the present state, as revealed in Scripture, are
lost sight of, the problem is an embarrassing one.
It may be further urged, as a matter of experi
ence, that those who, out of the natural sentiment of
religion, beheve in a God, do not always believe in
His goodness and benevolence, but more frequently
in His harshness and severity. Hence the evidence
from nature for the goodness of God cannot be
very conclusive, or it would have been universally
admitted. It may be further urged that a belief in the
merciful and benevolent attributes of God, as held
apart from Christian dogma, is founded on a denial
of His attributes of holiness and justice. A God
made up of love, and love alone, loses His claims on
h 2

100 The Religious Sentiment. [Lect.
reverence and worship, and becomes contemptible ;
since an indiscriminating love, recognising no dis
tinction of good or bad, worthiness or unworthiness,
in its objects, is deprived of its moral character, and
becomes mere easiness of disposition. An ideal God
of love alone, instead of being higher and nobler than
man, becomes lower and weaker than man, and must
be whoUy incapable of influencing or elevating a
nature already superior to himself.
These considerations may be urged with great
force and conclusiveness. But I do not press them
now, being content with the acknowledgment that
a rehgion severed from theology can be nothing
higher than a Theism, and this Theism vague, in
definite, and uncertain. I have separated one by one
the dogmas of theology from what is said to be re
hgion, and now that the process is completed, nothing
remains but a sentiment, not a creed ; a purely sub
jective emotion ; a shadow without a substance, a
form without a life, a name without a power.
But it is said, that this, and this alone, is rehgion,
the divine spark in man's soul, that aU dogmas are
but the incrustations formed by ignorance or priest
craft around the divine original ; that this sentiment
is prior and superior to theology, since definite doc
trines are the variable forms in which the religious
consciousness has developed itself in. different stages
of the world's education ; that it is, in fact, the for
mative principle of all doctrine. Claims so high and
lofty make it necessary for us stiU to keep the eyes
steadily fixed on the sentiment, tiU we can measure all

Ill] Philosophy not Religion. 101
its proportion and test its worth by the evidence of
the past. In doing this, I must adopt new names.
To consent to this separation of the sentiment from
the doctrine, and call the first rehgion, and the second
theology, is to do an injustice to Christianity, and to
religion itself. I can therefore no longer admit that
the holy name " rehgion " belongs to the vague and
dreamy sentiment alone surviving after the elimina
tion of Christian doctrine. I can neither exalt the
sentiment into a divine reahty, nor degrade the doc
trine into a human system. I shaU therefore desig
nate the one as the rehgious sentiment, and the
other as the religious dogma.
The inevitable tendency of the sentiment, deprived
of the doctrine, is to lose its rehgious character alto
gether. It is, consequently, incapable of maintaining
its own life. I do not deny that it may survive in
any one particular man while thought and conscious
ness survive. The human soul is endowed with a
strange power of living in a world of its own, and
peopling it with ideal inhabitants. But I mean that
such a sentiment, in the process of its transmission
from mind to mind, has an irresistible tendency to
lose its sacred character, and from a religion to
become a philosophy. Eehgion deals with the
relation between man and God, but where no
definite knowledge of God exists, the soul falls
back upon itself. It leaves what it does not know
of the Divine, for what it does know of the human.
Thus it drops its theistic character and merges itself
into the love of the true and the good, and the

102 The Religious Sentiment. [Lect.
beautiful — a kind of moral and intellectual sestheti-
cism, in Avhich the soul itself is at once worshipper
and temple, subject and Deity. It is an apotheosis of
human nature, and the result is not a rehgion, for it
has no relation to God, but a philosophy.
To this sequel the religion of sentiment has
already passed among ourselves, and the change
is avowed with no doubting or hesitating lips.
A change more momentous cannot be conceived.
Could it become universal it would be a destruc
tion of Christianity, for what would an empty name
avail when the reahty was gone ? We should have
a new dogma, but a dogma of morals not of religion,
of earth not of heaven. The sacred name of the
Saviour of the world would ring no more from the
pulpit, and would be hushed in the language of our
devotion. The ministry would no longer witness,
trumpet-tongued, before the world to the solemn
realities of the soul, and God, and sin, and the
Saviour, and judgment, and heaven, and hell ; but in
their place would sound the duU platitudes of senti
ment or the cold speculations of morality. Christian
learning, losing its noblest theme, would lose its
breadth and vigour, as they were lost in the middle
ages. Here, in this University, our loftiest subject
would be the to ayaOov and to koXov of Aristotle, or
the primal ideas of Plato ; if for such a duU level of
humanity his idealistic philosophy would not be too
spiritual. And what amid this spreading and uni
versal darkness, what would become of the human
soul and of its inalienable wants and instincts ?

Ill] Philosophy not Religion. 103
We must not forget, in tracing the effects of such
a change, that the message of salvation is ever de
scribed in the Word as a remedy for an actual and
specific ruin. We are taught that man is as far as
possible gone from original righteousness, " that the
flesh lusteth always contrary to the spirit, and therefore
that in every man born into the world it deserveth
God's wrath and damnation ;" that we can be justi
fied "by faith only," " for the merit of our Lord and
Saviour Jesus Christ ;" that Christ will come again
"to judge aU men at the last day." These are not
my words, but the words of the doctrinal articles of
our Church.
I do not forget that aU these are Christian dogmas,
and that upon the supposition that the rehgious
sentiment is alone to be cultivated, all these dogmas
would be swept away as things of the past. But
there are instincts in the human soul and conscience,
hopes and fears, glimpses of unseen things and awful
anticipations of a world to come, that will not sub
mit themselves to any speculative control. They wUl
make themselves felt every now and then, stirring
the depths of our nature so strongly that even the
sceptical education of a lifetime will not always
eradicate them. It cannot be said that they are the
products of Christian dogma, and would cease to
be felt when Christian dogma had been swept away ;
for they have been coeval with man himself, and
have existed at periods and in spots where no con
ceivable influence of Christian teaching can have
caUed them into life. Beneath the most utter

104 The Religious Sentiment. [Lect.
stagnation of the human inteUect and conscience they
have still made themselves felt. It must be ad
mitted to be the province of religion to meet and
satisfy them, to answer these awful questionings of
hfe and death, to allay these tremendous fears of
the future, to appease these dreadful conflicts.
What can the empty sentiment do in this emergency
of our nature ? To talk of the good and true and
beautiful to a conscience shaken with the sense of
sin and the alarms of judgment ; to parade empty
feelings when the soul is already groping in the
dark beneath the first shadows of the world to
come ; to exalt human self to a heart sick with self
and pining to its depths to escape from itself and
to find God, — is as vain and empty a process as to
feed a hungry man with the wind, and slake his
devouring thirst with the sands of the desert.
It is the further work of religion to give force
to moral obhgations, and bring the instincts of our
lower nature into subjection to the reason and the
conscience. What can the sentiment of rehgion do
to fulfil this office ? We may as weU bind the arms
of a giant with fetters of sand as combat the wUd
and passionate impulses of human nature by aesthetic
proprieties and abstract love of the beautiful. The
tremendous truth of an over-seeing and avenging God,
of a future judgment and an eternal recompense of
good and evU, can scarcely abash the bold forehead
of sin, and check its effrontery. But take them
away, and the last authority would be stripped
from morals. The very heathen felt this. Cicero

Ill] Prospects of Morality. 105
declared that morality would not survive the shock
that destroyed religion. Modern thought catches
up almost the very echo of his words ; for, sweep
ing away all dogmatic truth, it proclaims the advent
of a new morahty suited to the genial temper of
that new theology which, by its own statement, is only
a sentiment and not a theology at all. That the
old morahty cannot survive the destruction of the
old dogmatic religion is certain. For if religion be
the love of the good and the true, and the good
and the true be tested by human nature, morality
must follow suit with rehgion and become human
likewise. But a morality based on human sanctions
and drawn from human laws, must necessarily re
flect the characteristics of the nature which has
given it birth. If human nature be depraved, a
morality of human nature must be depraved likewise.
Thus every argument asserts the absolute weak
ness and futility of a religion of sentiment alone.
But the evidence of existing experience does not
exhaust the case. The experiment is only imper
fectly tried among ourselves, and amid the elevating
and restraining influences of Christian doctrine. The
theology of reason unconsciously borrows the ideas
and even the language of the theology of revelation,
although it disavows the shelter under which it has
nestled. We must therefore appeal to the expe
rience of human history under other circumstances.
For common causes should produce common effects
all the world over, especially if natural law be the
only force in action, and if it be, according to the

106 The Religious Sentiment. [Lect.
modern theory, constant and uniform. If the theistic
sentiment be the only pure and true religion, it
should prove itself competent to fulfil the functions
of religion. Its invariable tendency should be
to self-preservation and self-expansion, to alliance
with liberty, civilisation, and progress. There can
be no influence in humanity itself to check this ten
dency ; at least our opponents can make no appeal
to it. For human nature, upon their theory, is a
pure thing, ever tending towards perfection, and
the notion of any hereditary disposition to error of
opinion or mistakes of practice is indignantly de
scribed as no more than an exploded dogma of
the past.
We turn to heathen lands. Here the testimony
of the facts is too clear and positive to admit of
doubt or to need reiteration. If the religious senti
ment be religion, and Church dogmas are only a
human corruption of it, then the less dogma there is,
the purer should be the religion. The more power
ful therefore should be its influence, and the more
beneficent its effects. In the lands where definite
religious doctrine least exists, human virtue, hap
piness, and peace should flourish most. The more
undefined and vague the religious impression, the
purer must it be, and the higher should be the con
dition of its votaries. It seems absurd gravely to
argue such a question, for the identity of savagism
and superstition is proverbial. Yet if a common
sentiment of rehgion, without any dogmatic faith
to give it definite direction, be the ideal of religion,

Ill] Heathenism. 107
and religion be confessed to be good, it follows by
a most absolute necessity that the less dogmatic
religion you have, the more virtue and happiness
you ought to have. I am not sure that some are
not prepared openly to avow and defend this con
clusion so far as happiness is concerned, and even so
far as morahty is concerned, monstrous as it would
be, and contradictory to the most positive evidence
of facts. For look where we will, the less religious
knowledge exists the deeper is the general degrada
tion. The course is downwards, not upwards. The
tendency is not to a spontaneous activity, growing by
its very luxuriance into definite systems of belief, but
to an ever-deepening stagnation, losing what once it
had or believes itself to have had. The result is
not life, but torpor, sUence, death [6],
But it may be urged that the fault in this case
is not in the inability of the sentiment but in the
degraded condition of the mind. On the theory
that all mankind began their career in a state of
savagism and have slowly worked their way up
wards into civilisation, it may be maintained that
the proper effect of the religious sentiment cannot
be seen in the savage, but must be sought in the
civilised. The rudeness and ignorance and ferocity
of barbarous tribes have overlaid the religious senti
ment with empty superstitions, and crushed its energy
beneath the savage instincts of the animal man.
But couple, it may be said, the sentiment with
knowledge and learning on one side, and the human
ising effects of an enlightened civilisation on the

108 The Religious Sentiment. [Lect.
other, and then you will see the original religion
in its beauty, neither darkened by foolish dogma
nor degraded by moral corruption. Most happily
for the truth, it 'has pleased Divine Providence to
supply the means of bringing this assertion to the
test, and I adore the prescient wisdom which has
equally closed up the avenues of scepticism by the
barbarism of savage tribes and the full blaze of the
ancient Greek and Eoman civilisation.
Here we look at a civilisation which was, according
to the Scriptural chronology, the growth of at least
two thousand years, and according to some modern
theories, of a period indefinitely greater. I do not
pause on the character of this civilisation, for this
remains for consideration from another point of view.
I only refer at present to its effects, and to the evi
dence afforded by the undoubted facts of the past to
the adequacy or inadequacy of a rehgious sentiment
either to maintain its own life or to . elevate the condi
tion of mankind. During the successive waves of em
pire that have swept over the world since the deluge,
Assyrian, Babylonian, Persian, Greek, and Eoman,
each inherited the advancement of its predecessor.
It was not that the tide of progress flowed and
then absolutely ebbed to the same point again, and
that each wave rose independently, lived its own
separate life, and died its own separate death. But
the remnants of the one wave were in each case in
corporated into the strength of the other. The mag
nificent Babylonian empire absorbed the Assyrian
greatness into its own glory. The Persian spread

Ill] Ancient Civilisation. 109
its shadowing wings in a wider flight, and drew
its glory from a thousand tributary nations, but
still included the more ancient civilisation within
itself. The Greek infused its own keen life and
restless enterprise to the furthest bounds of the
known world. The Eoman inherited aU the rest,
and welded it together by its own vast organisation
and iron strength. At each stage the area of em
pire was extended, but included the same nation
alities. The civUisation of the world at the Chris
tian era was thus the inheritor of aU that had gone
before, the climax of the world's life, the culmina
tion of its progress during all the preceding ages.
Of the intellectual greatness of this civilisation, it
can be nowhere so unnecessary to speak as in this Uni
versity, where we are taught to live over again the
life of that great past, and incorporate into our own
mental selves the force of its intellect, the acuteness
of its reasoning, the riches of its learning, the subtlety
of its thoughts, and the exquisite taste of its artistic
genius. Its influence is ineradicably stamped upon the
present. We yet look back with wondering astonish
ment at the blaze of light shining from Athens and
Alexandria, from Tarsus and Pergamos, and at the
height of voluptuous luxury reached in Corinth, and
Antioch, and Eome. We have far outgrown their
state, indeed, in some respects ; but never has there
been such a vigour of human genius as then, and
never since, happily for the world, such a civilisation.
Here then, at aU events, the religious sentiment
had a fair field to display its powers. Certainly, on

110 Tlie Religious Sentiment. [Lect.
the inteUectual side of it, ancient philosophy made
a sweep of popular superstitions clean enough to
satisfy any man [7]. It stood just where modern
thought, in its most advanced stage, stands at our
own day. Neither did Socrates and Plato fall short
of the position occupied by Colenso and Mill, by
Michelet and Eenan, by Strauss and Baur; neither
do these advance, in the results of their philosophy,
one step beyond Socrates and Plato. The ideas of
the two periods, and almost the language, are
identicaUy the same. The scene is very different
indeed. We must unravel two thousand years
and more of the world's tangled, history. The
place is very different. We stand beneath the
sunny skies of Attica, and breathe its fragrant
air. Around us stretch the temples and arcades,
the tapering columns and majestic structures of
Athens. Shapes of beauty are on every side,
and glancing towards the Acropolis we see the
majestic figure of Minerva stretching her guardian
shield in front of the Parthenon. The forms
around us are strange to our eyes— majestic men,
such as yet live in the imperishable sculptures of
Phidias and Praxiteles. We walk through the
groves of the Academy beneath the venerable shade
of trees where Plato taught, or in the Stoa
with Zeno, or along the flowery garden with
Epicurus. The forms and faces and associations
are those of the long-distant yesterday ; but the
ideas and the language are the ideas and language
of to-day. We almost appear to catch the accents

Ill] Ancient Civilisation. Ill
of some weh1 -known modern philosophers in the
words of the men of that day, as Justin Martyr
reports them: "The Divinity extends its care to the
great whole and its several classes, but not to me or
to you, to men as individuals. Therefore, it is useless
to pray to Him, for all things recur according to the
unchangeable law of an endless progression [8]."
What is this but the latest modern discovery of
invariable law, coming out of the grave where it
was buried two thousand years ago ? Let us listen
again. The foundation idea of all anti-dogmatic
thought sounds in our ears, and one of the most
amiable of the ancients utters it : " The Divine
rehgion is something imperishable, but its forms
are subject to decay." So wrote the gentle and
phUosophic Plutarch, quoting the ancient Greek
tragedians. A living voice echoes back the senti
ment in Christianised words [9] .
The civilisation of that day embraced, therefore,
the identical principles of modern rationalism. It
stood on the same platform, thought the same
thoughts, used the same language. Yet what was
the result when the religious sentiment thus worked
clear of any embarrassing dogmas, and in the midst
of the most voluptuous civilisation ever known to
the Avorld ? There followed its own loss of life in an
universal scepticism ; its absolute impotence in an
incredible profligacy unfathomable by modern con
ceptions ; its touching and pathetic wretchedness in
a heart, sick even unto death, and crying out in the
anguish of its desolation for some better hope and

112 The Religious Sentiment. [Lect.
clearer teaching. From its depth of misery it looked
and longed for the divine instruction modern philoso
phy contemptuously rejects, and pathetically mourned
the ignorance and misery modern philosophy osten
tatiously embraces [ i o].
The experiment of a rehgion without dogma has
therefore been tried, and has failed. To try it over
again would be the wantonness of incredulity, if
the circumstances of our day did not render the
attempt impracticable. Eesults accomplished in
the past would be accomphshed over again in the
future. Philosophers who push the constancy of
natural law into such an absolute invariabihty, as
to eliminate the possible action of the Deity in
human affairs, cannot suppose its operation to be
irregular where the agencies are altogether human.
Of aU men else, they should be the slowest to distrust
the experiences of the past. A religion without an
authoritative creed has been tried, and has failed.
The mass of mankind, unable to hve without a creed
of some kind, feU into a coarse and debasing poly
theism. Higher minds either lost the religious senti
ment altogether in losing definite behef, or retaining
the sentiment feU into hopeless despondency alike
of inteUect and of heart, because, ever haunted by its
influence, they vainly groped like men in the dark after
the corresponding realities. The pen of inspiration
in one graphic verse couples the cause and the
effect together in the pathetic description of the
ancient heathen : " Without Christ, being aliens from
the commonwealth of Israel, and strangers from the

Ill] The Light of the World. 113
covenants of promise, having no hope, and without
God in the world."
Upon this darkness broke the light of Christianity,
revealing a system of truth sharply defined and in
vested with absolute authority over faith and con
science. Christianity is essentiaUy a religion of
dogma, because it is essentially a religion of autho
rity. It is scarcely possible to conceive a sharper
contrast than exists between the speculative uncer
tainty of heathen philosophy and the calm assurance
of Christian teaching. "He taught them as one
having authority" is as true of the Gospel in its
written form as it was of our Lord's personal teach
ing. But we must be careful not to be led away by
the love of contrast into a misapprehension of the
facts. Heathenism cultivated the religious senti
ment without religious dogma, but Christianity does
not teach religious dogma without religious senti
ment. Heathenism held morality without doctrine,
but Christianity does not hold doctrine without
morality. The contrast has often been stated in
this form, but most falsely. The faith is so far
from setting up what men believe in opposition to
what men do, that it presents right belief and right
practice as inseparable. Eehgious affections supply
the link between them. The faith, made powerful
by the Spirit of God to quicken the wUl and en
lighten the conscience, first awakens the affections
and through them directs and sanctifies the life.
Dogmatic Christianity has thus accomplished what
speculative heathenism failed to do. It came, giving
i

114 The Religious' Sentiment. [Lect.
definite shape to what was good and true in the
existing convictions of mankind, estabhshing what
.was uncertain and ambiguous, and sweeping abso
lutely away what was false and superstitious. It
cleared away the clou'ds from ancient truths and
allied itself with all the longing hopes of the human
soul. It thus gave humanity a new hfe. It did
not begin with a sentiment, and out of the senti
ment proceed to develop the doctrine; but it began
with the doctrine, and by means of it gave energy
and elevation to the sentiment. If anywhere the
sentiment did not exist, the faith called it into
existence. Where it existed, it explained it by re
vealing the eternal realities to which it vaguely cor
responded. It came therefore as the superior, not
the inferior. The revealed dogma and not the sen
timent is the spring and primal source of the Divine
life, because the Spirit of Life first gives the doctrine
and then works by it. Christianity has triumphed
hitherto because it is dogmatic, and supphes in that
very dogma the yearning wants of human nature.
With this it has already revolutionised the world
and inaugurated the visible kingdom of Christ upon
earth. With this are bound up all the hopes of the
Church for the present and her prospects for the
future, when the inchoate work shaU be completed
and the knowledge of the glory of the Lord shall
cover the earth as the waters cover the sea,
Both sides of the contrast, the faUure of a religious
sentiment without dogma and the triumph of reli
gious dogma quickening and exalting the sentiment,

Ill] A Creed necessary. 115
are eloquent with the same lesson. Eehgion cannot
survive without a creed. In its absence the religious
sentiment itself vanishes and dies. It would be as
reasonable to expect a shadow without a substance as
a religious influence without a rehgious faith. The
necessity lies deep in the very constitution of our
nature. To reject dogma is to reject rehgion.

I 2

LECTURE IV
THE FAITH AND THE INTUITIONS
Job xi. 7
Canst thou by searching find out God ? Canst thou fmd out the
Almighty unto perfection ?
XvELIGION cannot survive without a creed. The
religious sentiment, deprived of its natural founda
tion in dogma, loses its definite shape, evaporates and
dies. Love cannot exist without a knowledge of the
character and qualities of the Being to be loved.
Fear can possess no inteUigent character without
definite acquaintance with the object of fear, and
the reasons why He should be feared. Gratitude
springs from the sense of benefits received and
from the contemplation of the generous benevolence
of the Benefactor. Desire must be directed to a
special object if it is to be real and operative. Wor
ship is the expression of a recognised relation of
dependent inferiority between the worshipper and
the Worshipped. Eeverence and adoration can only
be kindled by the consciousness of a Being com
petent to claim them by the glory of His attributes.
In every case the affection is called out by some

The Creed of Revelation. Ill
corresponding truth. The hand which sweeps away
the truth necessarily strangles the affections.
As the hfe of the affection depends upon the exist
ence of truth, so also are its intensity and force
exactly proportioned to the definiteness and certainty
of the truth. The shapeless substance wiU ever
produce a shapeless shadow. The most vague and
dreary superstition may be traced back to certain
definite behefs. The horrible dread of witchcraft,
for instance, which haunts the fear-shaken savages
of equatorial Africa, springs out of the belief in
the existence of malevolent spirits and their wil
lingness to become the instruments of the evfl pas
sions of man. In proportion as the object of behef
is undefined, the behef itself becomes unreal and
therefore uninfluential. For this reason it is that
I have called the religious instinct, found to exist
throughout the human race, a sentiment and not
an affection, because in the absence of definite
knowledge it is itself devoid of definite shape. It
would be to dishonour our nature to call this vague
and dim instinct an affection. It is a sentiment
at once as dark and shapeless as the shadows of
the other world out of which it springs.
Moreover, all experience proves that the minds
of men are influenced as much by the certainty as
by the magnitude of the objects presented to them.
All mankind are influenced by appeals from without.
Minds of a higher order are distinguished from
others of a lower only by the greater nobUity of
their objects. Some seek the gratification of the

118 The Faith and the Intuitions. [Lect.
loftier and purer parts of their nature, and others
the gratification of the lower. Butin the calculation
of gain or loss, hope is in every case excited less by
the extent of the reward, and fear less by the ex
tent of the punishment, than by their certainty. A
heavier penalty with a chance of escape from it
affects men less than a lesser penalty with a moral
certainty of its infliction. The same thing is true of
rehgious motives as of secular. The mind is moved
by truths in proportion to the vividness with which
they are presented, and the evidence by which they
commend themselves to the understanding. An in
tense dream affects the feelings of the sleeper, but exer
cises no influence whatever over the waking thoughts.
The noblest ideas, if they are ideas alone and not
reahties, will be outweighed, to the vast majority
of men, by the smallest practical certainty of life.
It is necessary, therefore, in order to keep the re
ligious sentiment alive and develop it into affections,
to present rehgious truth in such a definite shape
as the mind can grasp, the memory retain, and the
heart appreciate, and at the same time to invest it
with certitude. Yet more necessary is this in order
to give the sentiment force and strength enough to
control the passions, form the character, and regu
late the conduct. AU loopholes of escape must be
stopped, and the conscience brought face to face
with realities so sure and great as to abash, before
their own majesty, the arrogance of self-will and
the selfishness of self-indulgence. The dogmas of
the Christian faith are invested to an extraordinary

IV] The Creed of Revelation. 119
degree with both these characteristics. They are
at once broad and simple enough for the compre
hension of the most ignorant, and yet have heights
and depths about them surpassing the grasp of the
profoundest intellect. They come to the conscience
invested with a Divine authority. The faithfulness
of Him who is a God of truth, the omniscience
of Him to whose piercing eyes all things in heaven
and earth are open, and the authority of Him who
is Creator, Eedeemer, Sanctifier, King, Father, and
Judge in one indivisible Deity, are pledged for their
certainty. The evidences constituting the credentials
of the faith bear on them the visible signature of
God. The inspired records of the faith speak with
a confident authority unknown to any human books.
Their sanctions are drawn from the highest exercise
of enlightened reason and conscience, and from the
tremendous interests of a future world of reward
and punishment. The dogmatic faith possesses every
quality fitted to instruct the reason, satisfy the
conscience, and move the affections. But the cause
and the effect must stand or fall together. The
loss of the truth involves the loss of the sentiment
evoked by it. To destroy the dogmatic faith is to
destroy Christianity, and to destroy Christianity is
to destroy rehgion.
But it is possible that the general proposition
that religion cannot survive without a creed may
be admitted, and yet the assertion that the existence
of a religious creed is bound up with the main
tenance of Christian dogma denied. The intuitions

120 The Faith and the Intuitions. [Lect.
of the human mind are asserted to be competent
to furnish aU we need to know in regard to God,
and thus to supply the mental food necessary for
the life of the emotions. The soul, it is said, has
powers of its own competent to reach into the other
world and to unveil the Unseen. • There is a voice
ever speaking within the soul of Divine reahties, a
far safer guide than any sacred books of a distant past,
or any technical formulas of faith, for it is an innate
part of the soul, and as God made the soul, so the
voice within it is the voice of God. To this we
should listen as the absolute revealer of all truth,
not only competent to keep alive the rehgious
affections, but adequate to enable man to worship
the spiritual God in spirit and in truth. If this
be so, we no longer need the intervention of creeds
and articles, since the soul reaches up directly to the
Deity, and by its own powers finds out the Al
mighty to perfection. The claim is as ancient as
the Alexandrian Platonists, and re-echoes the lan
guage of Plotinus and Porphyry [i].
In examining this plea, it is important to maintain
the method already pursued in these lectures, and to
bring it as far as possible to the test of facts. Are
the intuitions competent to furnish mankind with
religious truth, and supposing this answer to be in
any degree in the affirmative, does the truth so sup
plied possess the definiteness and certainty necessary
to make it influential over the conscience and the
affections 1
It is impossible not to be struck in the first place

IV] The Intuitional Faculty. 121
by the personal and arbitrary character of the selected
guide. For the intuitions, supposing them to be any
thing more than the primary grounds of all reason
ing, are subjective and personal. In their highest
form, therefore, and supposing them to possess the
authority claimed for them, they can be a guide to
the individual alone, and not to others beyond him
self. Either all men possess alike these scintillations
of Deity within the soul, or they are the peculiar
gifts of a favoured few. If aU men possess them, each
man must be guided by his own ; for to him they
are asserted to be the voice of God, and conse
quently to possess an absolute authority. He can
not consent to submit his inward convictions to the
convictions of any other man. Each must believe
for himself, and on no principle can the belief of one
have the slightest possible supremacy over the belief
of another. If all men do not possess these asserted
glimpses into the other world, the independence of
individual belief still remains the same. Your intui
tions, is the natural reply to any man who should
claim to be a revealer of Divine things, tell you that
there is a God, but mine tell me that there is no
God. You believe in another world, and are there
fore quite right to act in accordance with your
behef; I do not believe it, and am therefore
equally bound in conscience to foUow my convic
tions as you are to follow yours. Such a reply is
unanswerable on the principles of intuitionalism.
For the man who claims to possess the knowledge
of Divine things has no evidence whatever to give,

122 The Faith and the Intuitions. [Lect.
and does not profess to have any, beyond his own
subjective convictions. If men were not misled by
the mere sound of words and the ostentatious use of
philosophical phrases, this fact would be sufficient of
itself to expose the futUity of the claim. Let us
drop the word intuitions, and caU these individual
and self-formed conceptions of Divine things, notions
or fancies, and the imposing appearance of the plea
is lost at once. Such they reaUy are. They are no
creed, and never can furnish a creed. They are but
the phantasies of the individual brain, and to the in
dividual brain alone can they have authority.
But against this is cited the existence of a natural
religion. To the prevalence of a religious sentiment
among almost aU known portions of the human
family I referred in my last lecture. It is not
to be denied that a creed of some sort exists side
by side with the sentiment ; and in exact proportion
as this creed is definite it is dogmatic, although de
void of the authority out of which alone dogma can
properly spring. But whence this creed has been de
rived is a very different question. Our common use
of the descriptive phrase, "natural religion," in no
degree forecloses the enquiry [2]. For we use the
word to distinguish the common behef of the heathen
world from the definite system of Christianity re
vealed in the sacred Scriptures and constituting the
foundation of the Christian Church. How " natural
religion" has been obtained, is a question wholly
different from the recognition of its existence.
Two answers are given to this enquiry. On one

IV] Witness of Gentilism. 123.
side it is declared to be the natural outgrowth of a
Divinely-implanted sentiment, the product of the in
tuitive faculties of the soul. It is indisputable that
Scripture meets this assertion with a direct negative,
and teaches that it has been derived, not from within,
but from without, the Divinely-given supply to the
cravings of a created, and therefore dependent being.
The inability of man to discover aught about God
for himself, pervades the inspired teaching through
out, and furnishes the very reason for the inspiration.
The acknowledgment of Eliphaz finds its echo in the
teaching of prophets and apostles. I quote his words
because the very position of the speaker renders them
peculiarly applicable to my argument. Ehphaz was
an Arabian, not a Jew. The Book of Job itself was,
in all probability, antecedent in date to the times of
Moses and to the giving of the Law. Yet the know
ledge possessed" by Job and his friends, relative to the
nature of God, to man's dependence moral duties
and final destiny, is equally considerable and specific.
Whence was this knowledge obtained 1 The question
is the more interesting because this group of ancient
saints does not stand alone in Scripture, but forms a
portion of a distinct hne of holy men, entirely sepa
rate from the seed of Abraham, and yet holding a
definite faith identical, so far as it went, with the
completed revelation of later times. We trace the
links of this descent in Melchizedeck, in Jethro
the priest of Midian, in Balaam the prophet, as
St. Peter caUs him, and the old prophet of Bethel.
Whence was their knowledge of God received ? The

124 The Faith and the Intuitions. [Lect.
answer is recorded by inspiration, and therefore is
written for our learning, although it is not itself in
spired. It conveys moreover the earliest expression
of Gentile experience that we possess. There is
something of indignant wonder in the interroga
tive form of the assertion, " Canst thou by search
ing find out God ? Canst thou find out the Almighty
unto perfection ?"
But the Scriptural history itself goes further, and
supplies a definite explanation of the origin of all
religious knowledge. It is important that this ac
count should be clearly understood.
God originaUy framed man for holy intercourse
with Himself, to be the mortal reflection of His own
moral likeness. He accordingly made Him neither
autocratic nor self-sufficient, but a vessel, as it were,
to be filled with the Divine Presence. His holiness
and happiness were those of dependence, and God
was the source and complement of them. The
human soul was like an earthen cistern, and God
the fountain which flowed into it. When man
fell, the channel between the two was broken. The
Divine justice cut off on one side the outflowing of
the Divine benevolence, and on the other the guUty
will of the fallen creature was alienated from the
Divine fountain.
It pleased God to scheme a mode of reunion by
the atoning work of God the Son and the sanctify
ing power of God the Holy Ghost ; the one ex
piating the guUt, the other removing the infection
incurred by the FaU. It pleased God for this purpose

IV] The Scriptural Statement. 125
to renew and deepen upon men's souls the conscious
ness of their sin and of their need of a redemption.
The truths acquired by Adam and Eve in Paradise
by immediate intercourse with "the Lord God" as
He " walked in the garden in the cool of the day,"
were not effaced from the memory of our first parents
by the FaU, although their power was weakened
over the heart. They communicated them to their
children. And that, amid the degenerate tendencies
of human nature, they might not be wholly lost, God
refreshed and deepened them from time to time by
a special order of prophets, commissioned by imme
diate inspiration from Himself to preach them to
the world. Thus they spread as mankind spread,
and after the Flood, as before, became the common
heirloom of the race. When the dispersion of man
kind took place, and men in the course of the
primary migrations spread themselves graduaUy over
the world, they carried with them this original tra
dition of truth. It niet the wants and cravings of
a soul deprived by the Fall of that immediate inter
course with God for which it was made, and still
retaining a vague sense of moral want and a dim
apprehension of an unseen world. God has inscribed
on the soul a witness for Himself as it were in in
visible ink, and the influence of these truths prevents
it from being altogether effaced. Who shaU doubt
that God's Spirit has ever continued to strive with
men, and that the heart of heathendom has dimly
felt His influence ? Thus the feeling of another world,
the instinctive behef in a God, the consciousness

126 The Faith and the Intuitions. [Lect.
of sin expressed in sacrifices, the need of a priest
hood, and some apprehension of another world
of reward and punishment, have survived to the
present day, — survived, I beheve it wiU be found,
universaUy, whenever a more accurate acquaintance
of facts shall enable us to look more closely into
the only apparent exceptions.
If this account be true, the whole of the Divine
plan of revelation lies before us, alike consistent and
consecutive. When the event proved — not to the
Divine prescience, for God knew the end from the
beginning, but to man himself, and, may we not
add, to the inhabitants of other worlds who watch
the wondrous history — that fallen human nature was
incapable of maintaining this tradition of truth,
much less of working itself upward by its means
into a higher knowledge of the Divine will, God laid
up the truth in one special channel in the family
of Abraham ; surrounded it with special enact
ments ; cradled the family into a great and con
spicuous nation ; acted alike through the influence of
its contact and of its isolation on the heathenism
outside ; vindicated in the history of this chosen race
His prerogatives alike of mercy and of power ; pre
pared the line of descent from which the Saviour
of mankind should take flesh ; wrought out the
mysterious drama of His life, sufferings, and death ;
gave by the mouth of the Apostles and Evangelists
aU the dogmatic truths necessary to enable men to
understand the nature of His work ; poured out the
Spirit to enable them to believe and live ; laid up

IV] The Scriptural Statement. 127
all these truths in the written Word ; estabhshed
by miraculous signs and wonders the Church, that
she might maintain and witness to this deposit of the
faith, — and then, having raised Christ from the dead
and given Him glory, pauses, as it were, during the
existing dispensation, till the number of His elect being
gathered out of the world, the glorified Jesus shall
return to reign, welcomed by ten thousand times ten
thousand voices " King of kings and Lord of lords."
Thus the dogmatic faith, enshrined in Scripture,
and thence gathered and formulated by the saints,
is but the completion of a purpose framed in the
mind of God from everlasting. It entered upon its
first accomplishment in time in the creation of the
first man. Then shone the earliest ray of light,
and it has ever waxed brighter and brighter since
then, ever risen higher and higher towards the
zenith, till, like the sun in the material firmament,
it fiUs the world with light and glory. Who can
survey so vast a scheme and not adore the infinite
love that prompted, the infinite wisdom that schemed,
the infinite power that accomphshed it ? "0 the
depth of the riches both of the wisdom and know
ledge of God ! how unsearchable are His judgments,
and His ways past finding out ! "
Such is the teaching of Scripture. None can deny
that it is intelligible and consistent with the facts.
The causes asserted to have been in action are
plainly competent to the effect. Side by side with
its broad, clear, definite explanation, let us place
the claims of the intuitions, lofty and confident

128 The Faith and the Intuitions. [Lect.
enough, it is true, but avowedly devoid of any his
torical evidence. It is very difficult to bring within
the reach of argument a system professedly resting
on assertion, not on argument. I can only place
the claims of the intuitive faculty in contrast with
the historical facts of the case, as I have already
placed the claims of the Church in contrast with
them, and draw the conclusion.
On doing this, one broad, palpable fact attracts
attention. It is that all our religious knowledge
whatever is included within the circle of the faith
" once delivered unto the saints." Not one solitary
religious truth is consequently known to have been
discovered by this religious intuition. It is not
simply that the doctrines held by the Church lie
within the circle of inspiration; but that none are
found outside the circle, recognised as truths by
those who do not belong to the Church. Let the
Church, with her faith in a revelation, be placed on
one side, and rationalism, with its assertion of man's
self-sufficient capacity, upon the other. It is quite
conceivable that the rationalist might accept cer
tain religious truths, or religious sentiments, which
the Church, on the ground that they have not the
sanction of revelation, disavows. In this case ration
alism would have a religious creed of its own beyond
and in addition to the creed of the Church. But
when the facts are examined this is found not to
be the case. Eationahsm has neither any distinct
religious truth, nor any distinct religious sentiment.
All that rationalism holds the faith includes. Up

IV] Pantheism. 129
to. a certain point the two advance together, and
then the distinctive province of rationalism is marked
out solely by denial, not affirmation ; destruction,
not construction.
It must be remembered also that the teaching
of the Church is a logical whole, so coherent and
complete that the rationalistic denial dislocates and
disjoints the truth falling within the rationalistic
acceptance. The common truths accepted by both
are as incoherent without the special truths rejected
by rationalism, as the backbone of an extinct plesio-
saurus would be incoherent without the head and
legs of the animal. In every case, without exception,
the creed of rationalism is included within the creed
of Christianity. Take away from the former all that
is possessed by it in common with the faith, and
you take away everything. Literally nothing re
mains beyond the asserted power of intuitive dis
covery. And the power of discovery, which has
never discovered anything, is left in its own vanity
and emptiness, vox et prceterea nihil.
I Let us take the creed of the Pantheist. He
believes that a Divine life and energy pervade the
entire universe of being. In every atom of matter
and in every new form of it, in every organized ex
istence and in every pulse of life pervading it, there
is to be found God. The whole universe throbs
and beats with life. In saying this he only says
what the Christian believes as heartily as the
Pantheist. He can employ no language of uni
versality, extension, eternity, constancy of action,
K

130 The Faith and the Intuitions. [Lect.
immutability of being, and pervasiveness of strength
which the Christian will not echo. He can raise
no hymn of praise to this ubiquitous Omnipresence,
this vast, immense, Unknown of hfe, to which the
Christian may not say, in yet louder and more
rapturous tones, " Amen."
Beyond this indeed the two separate, and directly
they separate the Pantheist ceases to affirm and
begins only to deny. The Christian goes on to
refer this universal hfe to an Infinite, All-pervad
ing Personality, conscious, inteUigent, self-existent,
eternal, perfect in moral perfection and attributes,
and hi His very nature unlimited and unconditioned.
He thus makes a chaos into a cosmos, for he recog
nises mind everywhere. He not only sees mind in
the countless units of the inteUigent whole, related
to other minds as the separate drops of a multi
tudinous sea are related to each other, but one
single mind, pervading, and organising, and repro
ducing its own likeness in all else, like a sun
reflected in every atom but itself distinct from its
reflections. This the Pantheist denies, and his de
nial throws him back on a vague and dreadful
abstraction, without consciousness, intelhgence, will,
or affection ; a tremendous something fearful in
its vague negation of personality — a thick and im
penetrable darkness.
II Take the case of the Theist. He advances
with the Christian a step further, and believes with
him in a Divine Personality, "in all, through all,
over all." He agrees further that this God is a

IV] Theism. 131
Being of benevolence and love, recognising amid the
sterner features of the world the predominant cha
racteristics of far-seeing wisdom and infinite good
ness. But here he stops, professing to know no
more of Him now in the nineteenth century of the
Christian era and amid all the prodigious advances of
human civilisation and knowledge, than the great
Eoman orator knew and expounded with singular
eloquence nearly two thousand years ago.
The Christian advances further, and asserts that
this benevolent Deity, touched by the misery of
His human creatures, has made Himself known to
them by a revelation communicated through the in
strumentality of men like themselves, and fixing
itself so inextricably into the very framework of all
human evidence and human belief, that it is im
possible to tear it out without destroying the whole.
By means of this revelation the full character of
the personal God has become known to us as a God
of justice as weU as a God of love, clothed with the
awful prerogatives of truth, as with the gentler
attributes of goodness. This manifestation of His
attributes is accomplished in the provision of a
remedy for the present misery of man and his final
restoration to his primeval dignity and happiness, upon
principles identified by immediate analogies with the
ordinary moral government of the world. This plan
of redemption is the great key-note of the Gospel.
To this one pervading theme all the other truths
of revelation are subordinate and preparatory. The
grandeur of the plan is equally seen in the urgency
K 2

132 The Faith and the Intuitions. [Lect.
of the human danger, the dignity of the Divine
agents, and the magnificence of the results. " God
was hi Christ, reconciling the world unto Himself."
All this the Theist denies. His denial involves
him in the most perplexing contradictions. For,
according to him, the loving and merciful God of his
belief has looked down on our human miserv and all
the anxious questionings and conflicts of the human
mind in its search after truth, without one solitary
touch of pity. No word of sympathy has broken
from His hps, no compassion touched His heart, no
remedial purpose of love stretched His hand towards
us. This God of love is thus found to be either
stern and inexorable as the deity of Stoic fatahsm,
in that He feels no pity ; or else weak and dreamy
as the deity of Epicurus, in that He is unable or
unwUhng to express it.
It is confessed that if Christianity be not a reve
lation from God, there is no such revelation in a
positive or written form. The only communication
from God to man, asserted to exist, consists of His
ordinary motions on the natural inteUect and affec
tions. But these are wholly powerless for real good,
according to the Theist himself. The dim intuitions
of the intellect have neither brought to light one
solitary truth to guide human perplexity, nor have
they sufficed to preserve the vast majority of man
kind from the influence of that dogmatic faith which
he believes to be no more than a mischievous super
stition. The painful gropings of the heart after
God, "feeling after Him, if haply they might find

IV] Transcendentalism. 133
Him," are no more than pathetic acknowledgments
of the soul's unsatisfied wants. Yet, according to
the Theist, this God of love has seen and known
aU this, and yet has never spoken a word of com
fort, either too darkly reckless of human suffering to
do anything to alleviate it, or too helplessly fettered
by 'His own laws to be able to break through the
veU of the unseen and convey an intelligible com
munication to His suffering creatures. A more humi
liating picture of the Deity in the one case, or a
more dreadful one in the other, cannot be conceived.
Ill Take the theory of the Transcendentalist. He
has lofty views of the natural dignity of man, of
the subtlety of his genius, the strength of his will,
the instincts of his moral nature, and his ambition
after the great and true. In this estimate the Chris
tian fully concurs, for no one has so lofty a con
ception of man as he. Christianity exalts man
almost to the loftiest standard of the created. The
disciple of the faith not only agrees that man is
great and noble, but goes on to explain the source
of his dignity and to carry it to a yet higher reach.
He maintains that, in addition to the subtlety of
his intellect, and the strength of his wiU, and the
instincts of his moral nature, man has another claim
for honour in the immortal soul tabernacling within
him. He neither depreciates the intellect nor the
heart of man below his opponent. He only ad
vances further and glorifies them both by his be
lief in a spiritual nature, yet larger in its capa
cities, loftier in its hopes, and endless in its life.

134 The Faith and the Intuitions. [Lect.
He explains whence man derives His greatness by
the fact that he was made in the image of God
Himself after the very likeness of the Deity, and
that, great as man is now, he is no more than the
wreck of the yet greater self he was before the FaU,
and his state on earth no more than the childhood
of the glorified maturity stiU remaining for him in
heaven. Here again modern thought and Christian behef
go hand in hand up to a certain point. Christian
behef then carries the dignity of man higher yet.
Modern thought begins to deny and reject. The
moment it thus severs itself from revealed theology,
that moment its inextricable difficulties begin. It
labours at every step, like the Egyptians when the
Lord troubled their host and broke off their chariot
wheels that they drave them heavily. It cannot
be denied that man with intellect and conscience
and affection, and a moral nature and an immortal
soul, is greater than man with intellect and con
science, and affection and a moral nature without
a soul. The Christian therefore outstrips the Tran
scendentalist in his own course, and holds a yet
loftier estimate of man.
EquaUy certain is it that, taking man as he is,
the doctrine of the FaU invests him with an addi
tional nobUity. For if man be not a fallen creature,
then his present condition must be the highest
measure of his capability and of his hopes. If he
never was greater than he is now found to be in
the past, there is no probability that he wUl ever

IV] Transcendentalism. 135
become greater in the future. Modern thought
therefore fixes him "where he is, and stereotypes
him for ever as he is. Christian thought, starting
from the same point, believes that he was greater
in the past, and wUl again become incomparably
greater in the future.
This behef reconcUes, moreover, the loftier side
of man, as the defaced lineaments of his original
glory, with the existence of a lower side with meaner
impulses and at discord with his nobler self, as fol
lowing from the disorder and ruin of the FaU. To
the man who rejects the Christian doctrine, human
nature is an inextricable puzzle, nor can he throw a
ray of hght on its contradictions. Thus it is very
common to hear Transcendentalists speak in one
breath of the perfectibility of human nature and
its self-sufficiency in all things, and in the next
breath lament man's ignorance of his own good and
his habUity to what he considers the superstitious
follies of rehgion [3 J. Yet if man be perfect, whence
come this ignorance and weakness, this tendency to
accept the false instead of rising to the true ?
Moreover, the facts of human hfe sternly prove
that there is something out of joint, both in man
and in his condition. The records of individual life
are too black with the shadows both of moral and
physical evil to be reconciled with such a sun
shiny phUosophy. Hence the Transcendentalist is
driven to sink the individual in the mass. Forced to
confess that his theory does not hold good of single
men, he apphes it only to the aggregate of mankind.

136 The Faith and the Intuitions. [Lect.
In this respect modern thought shakes hands with
ancient philosophy, and re-echoes its complaint that
Christianity makes too much of the individual.
Yet how a whole made up of intelligent and con
scious individuals, each with a life of his own, is
to realise the dream of moral perfectibUity, while
the individuals composing it are singly corrupt and
degraded, is a problem baffling all solution. Chris
tianity begins with the individual and thus logi
cally rises to the mass. Modern thought, driven
out of its theories by the patent facts of individual
life, can only hide its perplexity under the abstract
notion of an aggregate without individuals, a whole
without parts, a perfection made up of imperfec
tion. So far as it agrees with revelation, aU is
consistent ; directly it takes a path of its own, all
becomes confusion.
IV Take the Optimist, who makes a step in
advance, although it be but a small one. He
holds that aU things are for the best, and that
amid the sufferings and struggles of mankind human
nature is yet working its way upward and onward,
and advancing towards a more perfect condition.
No true believer in revelation can doubt either
the one or the other without being faithless to
his principles. He not only accepts, but in this
case, as in the preceding, enlarges and explains.
AU things are for the best, by virtue of no inherent
power in evU to develop good, for evil must ever
gravitate towards an increase of itself; but by virtue
of an overruling Wisdom bringing good out of evil,

IV] Optimism. 137
and converting the evil itself into the instrument
of good. This is true of natural laws. The storm
destructive of hfe and property fiUs the atmosphere
with the seeds of larger and freer life. Pestilence
is the providential stimulus of sanitary progress.
Difficulties and conflicts are the school of all the
heroic virtues. Fortitude, self-control, heroic force of
wiU, unselfish generosity, a rational love of liberty,
and liberahty tolerant of other men's opinions,
aU grow out of this soil. They are no hot-house
exotics needing to be stimulated into artificial life,
but vigorous evergreens, flourishing only in the
free air of heaven, and striking their roots deep
only in their native soil. The exercise of a Divine
wisdom and power over- ordering evil for good is but
the apphcation of the same principle to the higher
sphere of God's moral government, but another
and a louder strain of the same harmonious music.
The past history of the world is one long illus
tration of this truth. The experience of the past
becomes prophetic, and catching its language from
the glowing pages of the inspired Scriptures, sings
its song of triumphant hope for the future. Look
ing back to the past and forward to the future, faith
recognises that all is best. From the height of the re
vealed promise peeping on tiptoe into the future, it
catches a glimpse of a more glorious hereafter. The
Christian has reason for this confidence, for he rests
upon positive promises and recognises a Divinely-
given system of truth as the instrument, and the
Holy Spirit of God as the agent of its accomplish-

138 The Faith and the Intuitions. [Lect.
ment. These the Optimist rejects, and the rejection
cuts the wings of hope, and reduces his confidence
into a behef without a reason, an effect without
a cause, a faith without an evidence, a superstruc
ture without a foundation.
V Take the case of the Eationalist. He holds
the authority of the reason, and that nothing is
to be believed without the assent of reason.
Christianity entirely agrees with this, or it would
be involved in the absurdity of supposing that the
Creator gave man reason but did_ not intend him
to use it. The duty of a personal enquiry into
truth is prominent in Scripture. Private judg
ment, let us argue how we wUl about it, is in
separable from individual identity, and is as much
exercised by the man who bows before the foot
of Church absolutism and accepts a human priest
vice Dei, as it is by the wildest disciple of lawless
sectarianism. The nature of the act done is the
same, the direction only differs. In the balances
of the revealed Word, a formal or hereditary faith,
accepting without earnestness and believing without
enquiry, is not faith at all. Personal conviction
following on personal enquiry, conducted on some
process or another, is the essence and very life-
blood of true piety. Thus far, therefore, Bationalism
and Christianity agree.
Then indeed they separate, for Christianity goes
on to assert two further truths, and Bationalism
rejects them. First, she asserts that human reason
needs to be assisted by an enlightenment from

IV] Rationalism. 139
above, and she rests the assertion on the doctrine
of the Fall and the corruption of human nature
maintained by her against the Transcendentahst.
If the doctrine be true and supported by the in
dubitable evidence of experience, it must be ad
mitted that the need of a Divine teaching to direct
and rectify the operations of the reason follows
necessarUy from it. Without some such explanation
it is impossible to understand how it happens that
one portion of mankind are ever breaking out into
wondering admiration of truths which another por
tion declare to be incredible and absurd.
But Christian thought maintains not only that
reason needs to be assisted in its search after
truth, but also that its range of capability is
strictly limited. In proof of this she appeals
to reason itself. She pleads in unison with the
saints of God from the earhest times of the
Church, that the subjects belonging to religion
lie in their very nature beyond the reach of
possible human discovery [4]. In regard to the
nature of God and His purposes towards mankind,
the human reason has no data for argument.
The thoughts of God can in the nature of things
be known to God alone. The wildest fanaticisim
has never claimed the power of discovering by in
tuition the thoughts of man, and its incapacity to
discover the thoughts of God must be as much
greater as, on the theory of Theism, Deity tran
scends humanity. God can only be known by reve
lation. In the absence of it we may guess at

140 The Faith and the Intuitions. [Lect.
what we can never positively assert. In the presence
of revelation we must worship and believe.
Hence we plead that the first question submitted
to the reason is a question of evidence, whether
we have received a revelation or have not. I
most fully admit that internal evidence must be
as consistently included as external ; but this evi
dence must be tested by its congruity with the
theory of revelation itself, and not with antecedent
notions of our own relative to the principles and
conduct suitable or unsuitable to God. Bation
alism rejects these limitations, and asserts the auto
cratic self-sufficiency of the reason. In so doing
she stultifies herself. For in regard to many sub
jects of enquiry, reason is palpably insufficient.
If it were not so we should not be in the nine
teenth century absolutely devoid of any scientific
theory of hfe [5]. In fact, we should not have
progressive science at aU, for progressive science
is imperfect science, and imperfect science is par
tial ignorance. If we are compelled to confess
that we are ignorant of many of the Creator's
works, is it likely that we should be competent to
understand and measure the Creator ?
VI Advancing into the region of dogma, let
us take the case of the Unitarian. He takes
his stand upon the humanity of Christ, and
aUeges the clear declarations of Scripture in sup
port of his view. The Trinitarian does not caU
one of these texts into doubt, nor depreciate the
certainty or precision of the truth they teach. The

IV] Unitarianism. 141
Church yields to no man upon earth in her de
vout recognition of the true humanity of Christ
and her resolute maintenance of it. She echoes
back with her deep Amen every sentiment of ad
miration and praise. Before the picture of the
Perfect Man, complete in every human lineament of
sympathy and affection, and made more tender by
the shadow of earthly weaknesses and wants, she
sits in rapt meditation, counting every tear He
shed, catching every smile of affection, sympathising
with every grief, and seeking to realise with fond
affection the very face and form of the " Man of
Sorrows." She blends up the recollection of His
august figure with her own earthly conflict, still
sees Him walking upon the storm and smiling
in the sunshine, and by the association of her
own daily conflicts and experiences with those of
her suffering Lord, sanctifies the very earth we
tread and the very air we breathe.
So far the Unitarian and the Trinitarian are one.
But here they separate. To our eyes the despised of
Nazareth wears upon His shoulders a more august
robe, and carries upon His brow a yet loftier
crown. Side by side with every text expressive
of humanity the Church places another text ex
pressive of His Deity. Through the veil of the
flesh she watches the outflashing lustre of the
Godhead breaking forth in sign and miracle, in
more than human holiness, in an all-searching
omniscience and a power to suffer and to merit,
transcending the loftiest reach of the creature.

142 The Faith and the Intuitions. [Lect.
She clings to Him as true man born of a human
mother. She worships Him as true God, " Light of
Light, very God of very God." She trusts to Him as
God and man in one person, the perfect mysterious
and indivisible Christ.
The Unitarian denies all this. His denial makes
the life of Christ inexplicable. All attempts to ex
plain it on the principles of a humanitarian phUo-
sophy are as unreasonable as it would be to explain
the life of man with reference to his body alone, and
leave out of view the indweUing Spirit that fiUs it
with motion, intelligence, and will.
VII Take the case of the Universalist. There is
a common truth even here, and that one of the dis
tinctive truths of revelation. God loves aU ; " so
loved the world that He gave His only-begotten
Son." The reach of the gift is equal to the breadth
of the love. The work of Jesus Christ " the right
eous " was to make propitiation " for the sins of the
whole world." The heart of ancient heathenism
never grasped this idea of the equahty of all men
before God, or of the community of the hope of
salvation. Yet potentiaUy the merits of Christ are
wide as the world ; and if they are not equally wide
efficaciously, the limitation does not arise from any
narrowness of object with God, but from the perverse
absence of a suitable condition in ourselves. As re
gards the width of the Divine purpose we are agreed.
But the orthodox Christian adds the truths of
a future judgment and of differences of reward
or punishment. The entrance into life eternal

IV] Universalism. 143
lies across the narrow way, and Christ is Himself
both the road and the gateway. In His grand
parables He has told us over and over again that
there will be some in the great day on the left
hand as well as some on the right. There must
be a moral fitness between the heavenly mansions
and their inhabitants. It is no fault of God that
it is absent. For the promise of access to God
through the blood of Christ and the sanctifying
work of God the Holy Ghost is free to all. " Come
unto Me all ye that travail." The everlasting
separation of condition hereafter wiU only correspond
to the separation of moral character here, and the
judgment-day will be the public proclamation of it.
The Universalist denies this, and is perplexed accord
ingly to explain whence the moral fitness for heaven
is to be derived, and how the mere act of dying is
supposed to change sin into holiness, the wicked into
the good, and the criminal into the saint.
VIII Lastly, take the case of another school of
thought which advances beyond all these. Its dis
ciples admit, in terms at all events, the dogmas of
human sin and of vicarious atonement. But as they
lower the standard of the latter, so they void the
former of its distinctive meaning. To them atone
ment means reconcUiation, and the atoning work
itself the message of reconcUiation. The Cross of
Christ is used as a synonym for the subhmest self-
sacrifice, the loftiest and purest act of heroical con
stancy and amazing love ever accomplished upon
this world of selfishness and strife [6]. He who

144 The Faith and the Intuitions. [Lect.
believes with our Church that the death of Christ
was " a full, perfect, and sufficient sacrifice, oblation,
and satisfaction for the sins of the whole world,"
agrees with aU this to the very utmost. We do not
detract one iota from that grand and marveUous
example of love given upon the Cross, because we
recognise in it a yet loftier character, a yet deeper
mystery. We do but advance further, draw as it
were nearer to the innermost agony of the Son of
God. Holding the sublime example, the self-sacri
ficing love, the heroic strength of endurance, we
invest them with a more amazing wonder when we
add to them the behef of a vicarious and substi
tutionary sacrifice for the sins of the world.
Thus we add another element to the anguish of
the dying Eedeemer in the actual endurance of sin's
penalty, the actual dying of its death. We thus
give to our Lord's work a distinctive character, to
Himself a distinctive glory, solely and indivisibly
His own. None but He has ever trodden that wine
press of the wrath of God. He alone "who knew
no sin" was yet "made sin for us," and suffered
its extremest agony, "that we might be made
the righteousness of God in Him." Was our
Lord's death but a sequel to His ministry and
the pledge of His commission, then many others
have died for us as He died for us ; many an Apostle
and holy saint laying down his life for the service
and sacrifice of our faith. But if the dying God
bore upon His mighty shoulders the weight of a
Avorld's sins, then in this He stands alone, one, single,

IV] The Creed of Rationalism. 145
and unapproachable. We hold all that our opponents
hold, or rather, they hold our truth up to a certain
point of it, and when they stop they void the
mystery of the Cross of its meaning and its blessed
ness. They leave the sinner outside the gate, as it
were, mourning under a burden of sin the more in
tolerable from its contrast with the unapproachable
holiness of Christ ; while we lead him on into the
Holy of Hohes through the rent veU of the body and
blood of Jesus, along the new and hving way that
He hath consecrated for us, because " the Lord hath
laid on Him the .iniquity of us aU."
Thus, in every case without exception, the creed
of the Eationalist is also the creed of the Christian.
The Christian, in relation to the Eationalist, occupies
a position of progress, affirming truths coherent
with the common belief of both ; but in every case
the Eationalist, in relation to the Christian, occupies
a position of retrogression, rejecting truths comple
mentary of his own behef. It is indeed possible
to represent the state of the case in another way
and to describe the Eationalist as affirming what
the Christian denies. For instance, the Transcen
dentalist affirms the perfection of human nature,
the Eationahst the sufficiency of reason, the Uni
versalist the final salvation of all men, the Unitarian
the sole humanity of Christ, and in each case the
Christian faith rejects the assertion. But this
position is only gained by a trick of words. In
every instance the affirmation of the Eationalist con
sists of a denial of some Christian doctrine, stated on

146 The Faith and the Intuitions. [Lect.
the reverse side and turned into an affirmation. It
remains therefore that in every case where Bation
alism and Christianity differ, the latter affirms and
the former denies. The Eationalist has consequently
no special truths of his own, not one sohtary point
either of belief or sentiment belonging exclusively to
himself. What is the conclusion but that what he
has is not his own discovering, but is reaUy a bor
rowed ray from the sun of revelation, a reflection,
it may b e unconsciously received, of the heavenly
hght. Hence it appears that human knowledge, inde
pendently of revelation, possesses no rehgious truth
even to the smaUest degree. The utmost that
can possibly be claimed is, that it has arrived at
what it believes by an independent process of its
own, and has not simply borrowed it from revela
tion. Indisputably ancient heathenism was in pos
session of some of these beliefs, but was not in
possession of the Christian books in their complete
form. But it must be remembered that the world
was in possession of the Hebrew Scriptures, and
that aU the dogmas of the faith are contained
more or less distinctly in them. In an imperfect
form they were largely possessed by heathen thinkers,
and were read with interest and earnestness. The
mere fact of the Septuagint version being found
in the Library of Alexandria proves this beyond
dispute. It was ever alleged by the early Fathers
that the heathen phUosophers, from Zoroaster down
wards, have been deeply indebted to inspired sources

IV] The Hebrew Scriptures. 147
for their glimpses of truth. Modern thought has
laboured in every way to throw doubt upon this
assertion, but I believe that a careful examination
leads in this, as in many other instances, to confirm
the statements of the past in opposition to the scep
tical doubts of the present [7].
At aU events, it admits of no controversy that
the Jewish theology exercised an immense indirect
influence on human thought in general. The opu
lent and flourishing communities maintained by the
Jews at the centres of the world's civilisation, in
the times subsequent to the Babylonish captivity,
and the prodigious number of influential proselytes
to Jewish belief known to have existed in imperial
Eome herself, are conclusive proofs of it [8]. The
direct and indirect influences of Jewish theology on
the world are insufficient indeed to explain aU the
facts without the supposition of an original tradition
of truth given to aU men before the dispersion of man
kind, such as Scripture positively asserts to have ex
isted. But the facts are sufficient to show that,
even in the palmiest times of the world's inteUect and
learning, the glimpses of truth acquired by ancient
philosophy were not the achievements of unassisted
human reason, but of human reason constantly stimu
lated by a revelation from without. Great truths,
if once caught, are seldom whoUy lost. Whether the
human mind be capable of maintaining them alive
and uncorrupted is another question. I beheve it to
be incapable of doing so. The condition of the
antediluvian world, and the growing idolatries of
L 2

148 The Faith and the Intuitions. [Lect.
mankind after the Deluge, alike justify the con
clusion. But should the question be answered in
the affirmative, the power to maintain is a very
different thing from the power to discover.
From the time of Christianity down to the present
moment, not one solitary shred of religious truth has
been added to the dogmatic faith. Yet during this
period human reason has laboured at the problem
with every conceivable advantage. It took the
question up at the point already reached by the
wonderful phUosophy of the pre-Christian era. All
the stores of ancient thought and learning were
there to assist it. It has pursued the enquiry
amid a blaze of hght reflected from the whole
body of dogmatic truth contained in the Christian
Scriptures. Should the Divine authority of these
books be rejected, yet so large a mass of dogma
must contain some germs of truth, some sparks of
heavenly hght, some suggestions to assist the mind
in its own enquiries. Moreover, these twenty cen
turies have culminated in an increase of human
knowledge beyond all other periods of the world.
The discoveries in physical science, the triumphs
of an audacious genius and a fearless adventure,
the achievements of skill and industry, have been
so wonderful as almost to excuse the intoxication
of success, and remove all surprise that science
should occasionaUy forget herself. We may well
be proud and thankful to live in such an age.
Yet amid it aU, at a time when almost every day
brings a discovery in the sphere of the Seen, not

IV] Inability of the Intuitions. 149
one solitary shred of a discovery has been made
in the sphere of the Unseen. The fact cannot be
too earnestly reiterated that not one single truth,
esteemed to be a truth in the estimate of Bation
alism itself, has been added to human belief or
to the dogmatic Christianity of two thousand years
ago. We may go further. Not only has human
intuition failed to add a point of doctrine to the
old creed, but it has not discovered an additional
argument in support of what we beheve. Modern
labour has accumulated additional stores of informa
tion ; it has enlarged indefinitely the particular details
of old facts ; it has gathered out of the distant past
corroborative proofs of the marvellous accuracy of the
inspired Scriptures, equaUy surprising in number,
varied in kind, and specific in character ; it has
enabled us to bring to the study of the sacred
text a much closer and more exact criticism, but
to our knowledge of the things unseen it has added,
literally and as a simple matter of fact, nothing.
What conclusion must we draw from this failure
ft
but that the mind of man is constitutionally in
capable of discovering rehgious truth ? If it has
proved itself to be thus incompetent during the
singular advantages of the last two thousand years,
is it credible that during the two thousand years
preceding it can have discovered truth without them ?
Or, leaving the comparative sunshine of philosophic
times, and passing into the thick darkness of heathen
barbarism, is it credible that the savage can have
done what all the hght aiid intellect of civUisation

150 The Faith and the Intuitions. [Lect.
have signaUy failed to accomphsh ? The other world
lies beyond the reach even of the soul's vision. No
human faculty has ever crossed the "great gulf
fixed " between the Seen and the Unseen, or pierced
by one sohtary glance the impenetrable barriers of
the unknown.
Here, therefore, we gain another step. Any know
ledge acquired by the intuitions is solely personal
and arbitrary at best, and never can carry even a
shadow of authority beyond the sphere of the in
dividual. But now it appears that even within this
sphere it is incapable of teaching religious truth.
Men mistake for flashes of an indwelling Deity the
reflected rays of an external revelation. In our
Christian civihsation, saturated with the dogmatic
teaching of centuries, grand truths impregnate the
very air we breathe. Men imbibe them consciously
or unconsciously into their mental and moral selves.
As the mind dweUs upon them in meditation, they
flash up every now and then into vivid reality in
that secret sympathy of soul which, by the very
intensity of its own outgoing, makes old truths new.
No man can be whoUy devoid of this experience.
In some moment of peculiar receptivity the latent
truth pours its bright beams through the crevices
of our ignorance or indifference. The phUosopher
calls them intuitions, and claims to have pierced
into the Unseen. A devout mind recognises in them
the influences of the Holy Spirit of God, leaving
Himself not entirely without witness in any man,
but mercifully breaking every now and then the

IVJ Inability of the Intuitions. 151
stagnation of a fallen nature with a breath from
the other world, and an ever-pleading voice that
speaketh better things than the blood of Abel.
Truths acquired by the intuitions there are none.
If they exist, let them be proclaimed. We invoke
this supposed faculty of the soul, but, as it was
with the dumb Baal of ancient times, there is neither
voice nor any that answereth. There is no other
source of a religious creed than revelation. If re
hgion cannot survive without a creed, and the dog
matic faith be rejected, then religion must die. It
is not indeed easy even for unbelief whoUy to shut
out the sunshine. It still steals in through some un
closed crevice of the conscience. For the other world
alone is reserved an absolute and eternal midnight.
It is useless to prove at any length the inadequacy
of the human inteUect to give certainty to behef, if
the facts have already compeUed the conclusion that it.
can furnish nothing to be believed. This conclusion,
however, rests only on a very high probability ; it can
not claim absolute certainty where the authority of
the Scriptural statement is denied. If, however, we
relax the stringency of the proposition, and from
asserting the total incapacity of the intuitions assert
only the utter absence of any element of moral cer
titude from them, the probability is indefinitely in
creased, and becomes a moral certainty. What admits
of being denied altogether with great probability
must be weak and uncertain to demonstration. I
have already said that the claim asserted for an
intuitive knowledge of religious truth does not

152 The Faith and the Intuitions. [Lect.
profess to rest on any evidence beyond that of the
mental consciousness; and since this consciousness
is individual, the evidence is the individual assertion
and no more. So palpable is this total defect of
proof, that the most enthusiastic advocates of the
intuitional faculty are compeUed to admit it [9]. An
attempt is made to strengthen the position by the
idea of a general or . common intuition, so that the
errors of any particular person might be corrected
by the collective consciousness of other men. But
the broad fact that the intuitions of different men
do not lead them to the same conclusions, and that
consequently no common verdict exists, is fatal to
the attempt. The amount of authority due to the
intuition is just the amount of authority due to the
individual, and no more. The probability that the
intuition is true or false is exactly the probability
, whether this particular man is right or wrong.
Let it be noticed as worthy of attention that the
claim is one of authority alone, and not of argu
ment. The faUibility of the most perfect human
judgment in the commonest affairs of daily life
illustrates the instability of the foundation. Faith
in such beliefs is a house built upon the sand.
When the tempest comes, and the struggles of con
science and the alarms of death and the terrors of
judgment test the stability of the belief, the foun
dation of sand must yield, and great will be the
fall thereof.
But with whatever composure we may calculate
chances and probabilities in ordinary matters, it is

IV] Craving for Certitude. 153
a dreadful thing to rest the soul and the prospects
of an eternity upon them. Here the soul craves
for certitude. It is of the very essence of our
created dependence to find a ground of certain
trust somewhere. We cannot bear to live in an
everlasting doubt. Spite of our theoretical convic
tions we must hold something as firm and fixed,
even though, like a man in a dream, we do but
clutch ourselves. The absolute sceptic who dis
believes everything, and reduces even all sensible
objects into phenomena, is seldom candid enough
to disbelieve his own disbelief. He becomes a
faith to himself, and scepticism is his dogma.
The notorious fact of the gross credulities of many
disbehevers in revelation, is an evidence in the
same direction. Man must have an object of trust
somewhere, and the necessity is but the witness of
his created dependence. There can be no self-suffi
ciency but in God.
Our daily experience of life educates this craving
of the soul for some point of rest. Look where we
wiU, change and fluctuation are everywhere. Life is
like a restless sea, in motion through every solitary
drop of its multitudinous waters. In ourselves, in
body, soul, and spirit ; in those social circles which
make up our larger selves, and in which we mul
tiply our own joys and sorrows; in the circumstances
of hfe and its chequered scenes of good and evil ;
in the physical world around us, the earth beneath
our feet, the air we breathe, the firmament above
with its crowd of glorious orbs all in motion; in

154 The Faith and the Intuitions. [Lect.
the whole course of this stupendous cosmos, — move
ment and change are everywhere. Could we find
no fixed point on which to rest, the heart would
grow sick and giddy with the universal unquiet-
ness. The infidel literally has no such fixed point,
unless he finds it in the blind fatahsm of the great
whole. The Theist finds it in God. He is the
centre round whom all else revolves. He is the
universal sun, and aU creation moves upon that
axis. He, self-existent and absolute, in the ever
lasting "now" of His being capable of no change ;
in the perfection of His wisdom and knowledge
suffering from no incompleteness ; in the glory of
His moral attributes susceptible of no caprice, and
in the almightiness of His power subject to" no
limitation, — He abides for ever amid a world of
change, absolute and immutable.
But it is not sufficient for our moral necessities
simply to know that thus it must be ; the intel
lectual conception of fixity is not enough. Neither
variableness nor shadow of turning affect Him.
It is we who are tossed by the ceaseless ebb
and flow, and we who need to find repose. We
need to link our weakness to His strength, our
ignorance to His omniscience, our wants to His
fulness, our misery to His magnificence. Such
was David's experience, and such David's triumph.
"The Lord is my shepherd, therefore can I lack
nothing." Brethren, there is but one means of union with
God. No inteUectual abstraction, no rhapsody of

IV] Union with Crod. 155
the imagination can supply it. The inspired Word
of God making known Himself and His will is the
instrumental means, unveiling as it were to our ador
ing eyes the very face of the Deity. Meritoriously
it can only be wrought by the union of the soul
through faith with the incarnate Son of God, when
His own words are accomplished in regard to
His people, "I in them, and Thou in Me, that
they may be made perfect in one." Efficiently it
is the special work of God the Holy Ghost,
enlightening the intellect, quickening the con
science, sanctifying the heart. Here, and here
alone, can we find rest in life, and hope in
death, and beyond the resurrection, heaven. Be
reft of this union the soul disconsolately turns
from its own necessities and struggles, and cast
ing its eyes on the deep mysteries of the other
world, impenetrable in their thick darkness to the
feeble glance of human eyes, cries out in the lan
guage of despair : " Who can by searching find out
God ? Who can find out the Almighty unto per
fection ?"

LECTURE Y
DOGMA AND SPECULATION
i Tim. vi. 20, 21
Keep that which is committed to thy trust, avoiding profane and
vain babblings, and oppositions of science falsely so-called :
which some professing have erred concerning the faith.
DOGMA is the expression of authority. The foun
dation of aU dogmatic truth is laid in the sacred
Scriptures. The language of our Church relative to
these authoritative records of the faith is very ex
plicit, and has been previously quoted. She declares
them to be " God's most true Word," " God's Word
written." To offer any proof of this assertion has
not fallen within the object of these Lectures. I
adopt the teaching of the Church as my start
ing point in vindicating the necessity of dogma.
The Word of God contains the faith, and the
faith so contained is dogmatic ahke by virtue of
the infaUibility of revealed truth, and alike by
virtue of the authority of the Eevealer. Propo
sitions may be stated in a dogmatic form without

Church Creeds. 157
any claim to a Divine authority. But they can
not have a Divine authority without assuming
a dogmatic form. It has pleased God to deliver
the faith once for all to the saints, and the for
mulating of this faith into definite articles has
necessarily been accomplished by their hands. To
these Church formulas authority is due so far,
and so far only, as they truly embody the mind
of God revealed in His Word.
A common mental tendency of our day draws a
line of distinction, broad and deep, between the
inspired Word and the Church formulas. The first
it acknowledges to be Divine, qualifying the ad
mission, more or less, according to the religious
standpoint of the thinker ; but the second it
positively asserts to be human. It fixes attention
rather on the form of the creeds than on their
substance; and in the occasional circumstances of
their composition loses sight of the foundation of
their authority. To confuse the two questions
together, is to sow thick the pregnant seeds of
fallacy. That the technical framework of the
creeds of the Church is human is denied by no
one. We know at what date and under what
circumstances they were composed ; who were
their principal authors ; out of what emergencies
of controversy they grew ; and against what
special forms of heresy they were directed. They
bear in their structure the clear traces of their
birth-time. No one can assert more strongly the
human origin of the technical forms, and the

158 Dogma and Speculation. [Lect.
consequent possibility of error in formulating them,
than the framers of the creeds themselves. But
though the vessel be earthen, the excellency of
the gift may nevertheless be of God.
Men who fix their attention upon the human
side of them alone, naturaUy ascribe to them only
a human character. They regard them as one
among many forms of speculation, standing on
precisely the same footing as the thousand varied
systems schemed by the brain of the phUosopher.
They therefore submit them to the same tests,
and judge of the dogmas of the Church as they
judge of the dreams of the Neo-Platonists, the
systems of the idealists, the credulities of the spirit
ualists, or the negations of the Positivists. If they
were correct in their premisses, they would be in
disputably correct in their conclusions, and would
be amply justified in claiming the right to re
model Church dogmas into accordance with the
latest ideas of the nineteenth century.
The question demands a separate investigation.
Are the premisses true ? Is the faith of the
Church a speculative philosophy based on the
same principles, working by the same instruments,
and therefore claiming no more than the same
authority as other philosophic schemes ? Must it
descend from the pulpit into the schools, and
exchange the sacred garments of the priesthood
for the robe of the philosopher ? Or may we
continue to sit at the feet of a Divine reve
lation and listen to its grand teachings, assured

V] Superstition and Philosophy. 159
that beneath the earthly accents sounds the very
voice of God ?
This enquiry wUl only carry the argument of the
preceding lectures a step further, and follow it into
another sphere of thought. Human behef has ever
developed itself upon two lines, the one the super
stition of the many, the other the phUosophy
of the few. In Christianity the separation has
no place. The authoritative faith of revelation
presents the same grand features to the free
and open knowledge of aU the world. Whatever
differences exist in the practical religion of men
do not arise from any diversities in the faith,
but from the differences of capabUity, moral and
inteUectual, in those who receive it. Its great
principles are brought into immediate contact with
the realities of actual life, and find in the work
ing world their truest and highest illustrations.
Within the compass of the same faith is mUk for
babes and strong meat for men — plain truths,
simple enough for the loving comprehension of a
chhd, and mysteries high and deep enough to
overtask the powers of an archangel. But the
two cannot be sharply separated from each other.
The man in his strong grasp of the broad truths
of saving love, exercises the humUity of the chUd ;
and the chUd in the majesty of the revelation, rises
into the maturity of the man.
This very comprehensiveness bears the stamp
and signature of Divinity. In all other religions
the narrow exclusiveness of human jealousy has

160 Dogma and Speculation. [Lect.
maintained the separation between the creed of the
few and the superstition of the many as a formal
and avowed principle. The philosophic creed of
the few has been as inadequate to satisfy the moral
cravings of the many as the credulities of the many
have been impotent to meet the inteUectual wants of
the few. The two spheres have existed apart from
each other. The popular behef, in the absence of
a rational foundation, has sunk into a superstition,
and the philosophy of the many, in the absence
of the moral element, has become a speculation.
I have already foUowed the claims of the religious
sentiment in the one direction, and must now foUow
the philosophy in another. The change of asso
ciation and aspect into which we pass is singular
and striking. Hitherto the moral sentiment has
been the predominant idea. An actual want on
the part of the human soul of some contact with
the unseen world, some grasp upon the arm of Deity
and some ghmpse of His face, some comfort to cheer
man in life and some hope to brighten the shadows
of his death, have met us everywhere. Now we
put all these on one side and pass into the sphere
of the inteUect alone. The change of association
is as great as if we passed from the tangled wUds
of an American forest into the sUence and sterihty
of a polar solitude. In the one there was life on
every side, although wild and uncultivated, and
in its very extravagance pregnant with deadly ma
laria. In the other there is not a trace of hfe.
Every crystal form is clear and sharp ; a thousand

V] Christianity Systematic. 161
hues and colours play upon the surface of earth
and sky: but they are. cold and superficial com
pared to the colours of the burning South, and
there is not a sound of human life to disturb the
terrible monotony of the everlasting silence. It
is, however, conceivable that in this cold region
of intellectual speculation eternal truth may be
found. The disturbing -influences of moral feehng
and passion are eliminated, and in their absence
the accurate and exactly poised inteUect may per
haps have discovered the great mysteries of life and
death. Let us therefore see whether the specu
lation of the head has proved itself more powerful
to find out God than the instinctive sentiment of
the heart.
In comparing the faith with speculative phUo-
sophy we are assisted by the fact that both
are systems. The doctrines of Christianity con
stitute a system by virtue of the organic unity
pervading them. It is not only that they have
been systematised by theologians ; but it is that
an internal sequence and coherence pervades the
doctrines themselves. They constitute a complete
history of humanity and of the world. The act
of creation and the relation existing between the
Creator and the created form the first links of
the chain. The primeval harmony of the two in
the paradisaical state ; the interruption of it by
the sin and faU of man ; the purpose of God to
restore the broken harmony by the salvation of
His fallen creatures ; the work of the Incarnate
M

162 Dogma and Speculation. [Lect.
Son, schemed, undertaken, and completed with this
object; the operations of the Holy Ghost; the sal
vation of the individual soul, and the final glori
fication of the people of God at the restitution
of all things, — are doctrines which beyond aU pos
sible dispute are closely connected with each other.
So close is their connection that the omission of
any one dislocates the order of the rest, as mani
festly as broken links in a chain destroy the con
tinuity of the whole. Any misconception in one
doctrine vitiates the conception of the whole, as
certainly as a broken circuit interrupts the course of
the electric current. For instance, a denial of the
full creative work of God, or a low estimate of
the extent of the depravity of man, extends its
effect throughout the entire circle of doctrine. The
faith is not an accidental aggregate of isolated
units, but a coherence of connected members in
an organised body.
This structural unity of the faith arises naturally
from the personal unity of its Author. One mind
has schemed it all, and therefore one thought per
vades it all. The authorship and the authority
are equivalent. The faith is equally systematic
in the structure of the inspired documents [i], in
the relation of its doctrines to each other, and
in the grounds of its obligations upon reason and
conscience. But speculative philosophy is a system likewise.
I do not mean in its results, for these include
not one system, but many SA'stems, various and

V] Systematic Philosophy. 163
antagonistic as an army where every man's hand
is against his fellow ; but I mean that it is a
system in its claims and principles. A common
object, a common method, a common instrumen
tality pervade all systems of speculation, however
much they may vary in their arbitrary starting-
points and in their ultimate conclusions. It is right
that the hand of an admiring disciple should draw
the portrait and thus remove all suspicion as to
the likeness, lest it should be said either that
ignorance has misconceived, or prejudice perverted
it. " Speculative thinking," says a distinguished pro
fessor, " is to be regarded as distinct from that
which is barely reflective and discursive. They
are distinguished in this respect, that the latter
is a posteriori, the former a priori ; the one de
serving and critical, the other constructive. Be-
flective thinking must have its object given, whether
that object be barely perceived, or whether it be
the duly formed notion of a thing. Speculative
thinking originates its own thoughts. It evolves
them out of itself by an inward logical necessity,
and constructs an entire system of such a nature
that each single thought implicitly supposes the
whole [2]."
Hence we are enabled to compare the dogmatic
faith and speculative thought, as systems, each with
its distinctive pecuharities, and to perceive not
alone their entire dissimilarity, but their absolute
and active antagonism.
I The objects respectively proposed by them are
M 2

164 Dogma and Speculation. [Lect.
different. The objects of speculation are solely in
tellectual. It not only seeks no alhance with the
moral wants, but it formally disdains and repu
diates them. So complete is the separation that
"if the rehgious feeling is touched in any degree,"
that is, if hope, or fear, or love, or gratitude, or
sympathy towards a Supreme Being be caUed into
play, " this is proof enough to the speculative theo
logian," I again quote his own language, " that
his speculative labours must have miscarried, and
he hesitates not for one moment to pull it down
to the ground, however much trouble it may have
cost him." The reason assigned for this repudia
tion is not simply the irregularity of the moral
emotions and their consequent tendency to disturb
the calm and accurate processes of the reason, but
their variabUity. The rehgious consciousness is held
to be modified by personal constitution, tempera
ment, and habit. Every mind and every society
forms its own type of piety, and from the piety
developes its own theology. Each theology is
equaUy true, because it reflects with equal accu-i
racy the religious consciousness that gives it birth, j
No thinker can assert his own belief to be morel
true than any other man's behef without " im-|
modesty and presumption." What is asserted to '
be the "inexorable strictness" of the speculative
mode, finds its natural issue in an unlimited diver
sity of belief. Hence it is chargeable with the
inconsistency of violating the moral consciousness
which it affirms to be the primal spring of its own

V] Object of Speculation. 165
life. This act of intellectual suicide drains away
its own life-blood [3].
Christian theology protests equaUy against the
adequacy and against the dignity of such thinking.
We charge it with inadequacy because at best it
only satisfies and only professes to satisfy one part
of man's compound nature. It meets the difficulties
of the head, at least attempts to do so, but neither
quiets the uneasiness of the conscience nor satisfies
the wants of the affections, nor supphes the guidance
needed by the will. We charge it with frivolousness
because by isolating itself from the practical wants
of man it lowers the dignity of the reason itself.
I do not depreciate the greatness of the inteUect,
or the subtlety of its powers. Speculative thinking
tasks its energies to the utmost. A mind con
versant with such studies rises into the highest
sphere of pure intellect and exercises gifts worthy
of all admiration. Whether conscience and wUl are
not diviner yet, inasmuch as the inteUect is but
their instrument, may weU be questioned. But if
we decide that reason is monarch over all other
faculties, we must acknowledge that a monarch
needs a dominion worthy of his dignity. But
reason confined to the hmits of its own specula
tions, and forbidden to exercise active control, is
a monarch without an empire ; as if a man should
reign over a kingdom without subjects and think it
nobler to rule a desert, himself its sole monarch and
sole inhabitant, than a populous empire rich in ac
tivity and wealth. The practical result is to divide

166 Dogma and Speculation. [Lect.
the living man into two halves, the one all feehng
without thought, the other all thought without
feehng. The dislocation destroys the greatness of
them both. The sun shining in the midst of the
firmament and filling a rejoicing world with beauty,
is glorious and admirable ; but a sun without a
firmament to fiU, or a world to brighten, would be
a sun no longer, a strange and portentous paradox.
Such a system is speculative in every sense of
the word. It not only looks into itself as into
a glass, and gathers its notions from the self
reflected in it, but it is speculative in the ordi
nary meaning of doubtfulness and uncertainty. It
is devoid of evidence and substantial argument.
Severing itself from man's practical wants and con
flicts, it ceases to have any foothold in the actual
and working world. It lives in a cloudland of its
own, and, hke the gods of Epicurus, looks down
in idle indifference on the struggles and sufferings
of the soul. It becomes a mere display of the
powers of the inteUect, like an earthly firework
scattering its bright sparks for a few moments
into the darkness, as useless as it is beautiful. It
dazzles the eye for a moment and passes away,
leaving the stars in the clear heavens looking down
from their changeless orbits, cloudless and glorious
as before.
The faith delivered to the saints is whoUy dif
ferent, and in the difference as much higher as
heaven is higher than earth. Far from its Divine
Author is any such miserable patchwork as shall

V] Object of the Faith. 167
take account of some one part only of the na
ture he has Himself bestowed, and shaU leave the
rest to pine and die. The faith meets every
part of man. To supply his practical wants, to
aUeviate his sorrows, to remedy his ruin, to throw
hght upon his darkness, and make even the
vaUey of Baca a threshold into glory, is its one
aU-pervading object. It does not soar heartlessly
above us hke some bright angel of another world,
torturing our human hearts by the vision of a
serenity beyond our reach. But it comes like an
archangel on an errand of mercy, and walks to
and fro our world, a ministering spirit of light
and joy. It does not disdain the earthly soU and
earthly atmosphere, but imitates the Son of God
Incarnate, as He brightened our earth with His
smiles and consecrated it with His tears. The faith
is in every part of it intensely practical. Doctrines
are but the statement of God's mode of saving us.
Even the subtle refinements of the Athanasian Creed
are practical, for they are directed to preserve
from heretical refinement the plain and blessed
truth of the nature and office of our Saviour.
Its loftiest heights of truth are hke the moun
tain ranges, nursing -parents of the rivers that
water the lovely vales beneath, and fill them with
fertility and joy. The faith reflects the perfections
of its Author, as like a cloudless sun He fills the
spiritual firmament Avith hfe and immortality.
II The methods respectively pursued by the two
systems are different. Speculative philosophy is

168 Dogma and Speculation. [Lect.
solely subjective. It begins by taking for granted
certain primary ideas, such as were the numbers
of Pythagoras, the atoms of Lucretius, the monads
of Leibnitz, the ego and the non-ego of Fichte.
From these it constructs its scheme by a process
of deduction. It thus reverses the foundations of
aU true knowledge. For speculative reasoning
belongs to the chUdhood of the human inteUect,
while experimental reasoning is the weapon of its
maturity. The one gives facts, the other theories.
The one describes the world as God has made it ;
the other constructs a world as the thinker supposes
that it ought to be made. The one presents a
reahty, the other exhibits a dream.
The difference between the two modes of reason
ing is too familiar to this audience, and has too
recently been discussed with eloquence and force
from this place, to require that I should dwell
upon ita. It only remains to apply it to my
present argument. That speculative thinking is
deductive is but feebly denied [4J ; but it is
asserted that Christian dogma as it exists in
creeds and formularies is deductive likewise. Doc
trines have been boldly and sweepingly described
as human theories, and if they were based on de
duction they would be liable to the charge ; but
they are inductive, and rest on exactly the same
position, only with far higher elements of certainty,
as the truths of natural science.
I do not depreciate the proper value of deduction.
a Mozley's Bampton Lectures for 1865. Lect. ii.

V] Method of Speculation. 169
It enters largely into every sustained course of
reasoning. Nor do I deny that many religious
lessons and some points of doctrine are gained by
this process. Infant baptism, for instance, is no
where directly asserted in Scripture, but is clearly
deduced from direct assertions. Our Church de
clares what is contained in Holy Scripture, and
what is gathered from it and proved by it, to be
of equal authority. But, in proportion as the
links of proof are lengthened, a degree of uncer
tainty, although it may be indefinitely small, hangs
about the process. Even this, however, is absent
from "the faith" as embodied in the Nicene Creed.
For not one of its articles rests on deduction,
but on the direct positive assertions of the Word.
The immediate voice of God Himself alone ren
ders doctrine binding upon the conscience. The
process of gathering these truths out of Scripture
is a process of induction. The texts bearing upon
the special subjects stand in the position of the
facts; the comparison of the texts with each other
corresponds to the generalisation from the facts;
and the doctrine answers to the scientific truth.
The technical statement, like the scientific formula,
is but the assertion of the fact [5].
Whatever authority therefore is due to the Scrip
tures, is due to the doctrines generalised from them,
in the same way that the accuracy of a scientific
conclusion depends upon the accuracy of the data
from which it is drawn. If the truth of the
Scriptures be called into question, the truth of the

170 Dogma and Speculation. [Lect.
doctrines may consistently be called into question
likewise, but not otherwise. The Scriptures and
the doctrines have an equivalent authority.
The technical form and the technical language
employed by theology to express the doctrines of
the faith arise from the necessities of this induc
tive process. For many texts of Scripture contain
one and the same truth. Take, for instance, the
true Divinity of Christ, or the indivisible union of
the Godhead and the manhood in His one Person.
In speaking of the first of these Bishop Pearson
quotes more than one hundred texts. But to re
quire for the clear assertion of the Deity of Christ
the repetition of the whole of these one hundred
texts would be exceedingly absurd. We therefore
adopt one formula, so worded as to express the
common truth, and to combine in this one expres
sion of it all the particulars contained in the texts.
The Church does this in the Apostles' Creed by the
words, " I believe in Jesus Christ His only Son."
When the Arian heretics so refined upon language
as to enable them to use these words of the Creed,
and yet under cover of them to deny that Christ
was true God, the Fathers of the Council at
Nicsea made their language more positive, and
declared the Son to be " God of God, Light of
Light, Very God of Very God." The Creed of
Athanasius employs a term of yet more precise
significance, and proclaims Him to be " God of the
substance of the Father." The Church of England
in the Second Article repeats nearly the same

V] Method of the Faith. 171
words, "Very and eternal God of one substance
with the Father." But these fuller expressions
add nothing whatever to the truth of our Lord's
true Deity, as the Son of God, expressed in the
Apostles' Creed. That one phrase, "His only Son,"
includes all that the longer definitions include. But
although it includes aU the truth, it does not
specifically exclude all the forms of error with the
same definiteness as they do. For they grew out of
the experience of controversy, and met its exigencies
as they arose.
So it is likewise with the second subject men
tioned in iUustration : the hypostatical union of the
two natures in the one person of Christ. One class
of texts of considerable number assert that Christ
was man ; another class of texts, equally numerous
and equaUy clear, assert Him to be God. Both
these classes of texts refer to one common sub
ject, viz. the Person of Christ. The first series
affirm one particular of Him ; the second series
assert another. AU the texts were given by the
same inspiration of God, and are invested with the
same authority. They must all therefore be equaUy
true. Now, how is this common and combined truth to
be expressed ? Is it to be necessary to repeat the
whole two series of texts in detaU whenever we
wish to profess our belief that our blessed Lord
was both God and Man ? May we not adopt
some formula to express in a few words, selected
perhaps even framed for the purpose, the truth

172 Dogma and Speculation. [Lect.
common to all these texts? The Apostles' Creed
employs the words, "Jesus Christ His only Son
our Lord, who was conceived by the Holy Ghost,
born of the Virgin Mary." The Nicene Creed,
not more exact, but more full, declares that
the only-begotten Son was "made Man." Later
stiU, the Church, pressed by the Nestorian and
Eutychian controversies, fenced the dogma by the
trenchant definitions of the Athanasian Creed :
" Who, although He be God and Man, yet He
is not two, but one Christ ; One, not by conver
sion of the Godhead into flesh, but by taking of
the Manhood into God ; One altogether ; not by
confusion of Substance, but by unity of Person."
Yet in this case, as in the former, these definitions
did not add one iota to the truth contained in the
shorter form. The full complete dogma was all
there on its affirmative side, and the only advantage
of the longer form is on its negative and contro
versial side, its protest against the opposite heresy.
The same remarks are true of the separate terms
employed, as well as of the technical form. Some
of these terms confessedly are not to be found in
Scripture — such as the word Person, the word
Trinity, the phrase Catholic Church, and others
of the same kind. From Athanasius down to
Calvin, the Church has ever given the same answer
to objections drawn from this source. She has-
ever replied, that although the words are not in
Scripture, the sense expressed by them is there.
The words are a vehicle to the meaning, a sign of

V] Method of the Faith. 173
the thing signified. Each one is really an em
bodied dogma, accepted on the authority of many
texts summarised into the single word. If the
dogma be in Scripture, and no more accurate term
can be found to express it, it is sheer wantonness
to object to the word. For in no other way than
the use of such terms can separate dogmas be com
bined in a common proposition.
By an exactly similar process the terminology of
science has been formed. Each word expresses an
ascertained truth, and can only be explained to
an untrained mind by the long statement of the
truth. Svich are the phrases, specific gravity, in
sensible distances, and a host of others. But as
the incessant reiteration would be equally absurd
and vexatious, the truth is embodied in a single
term for the sake of brevity and convenience.
Who besides a madman would ever think of
calling into question the truth because he did
not like the word employed to express it? Change
the word by aU means if you can find a better,
but do not sweep away the meaning of it. In
progressive human science, such as geology, such
changes have constantly been required, as fresh
additions to our knowledge have made the old
terms inaccurate [6], If no such process has taken
place in theology, it is simply and solely because
the doctrines being Divine and Divinely revealed,
and Divinely revealed once for all, no addition can
take place to the dogma, and therefore no alteration
has been required in the word.

174 Dogma and Speculation. [Lect.
Now on the accuracy with which her language
expresses the true teaching of the Scripture, the
Church challenges the criticism of the world. If,
as with the Church of Eome, the original documents
of the faith were kept out of sight, and the theo
logical articles were alone avowed without any
means of testing them, a suspicion might be thrown
upon the Church's faithfulness to her trust. But
the Church of England, like the Church of Apo
stolic and primitive times, holds out the Scriptures
to all men, and with emphatic reiteration refers
to them all her authority. The Scriptures are
the teacher, and the Church is only the witness.
She challenges all men to judge of her faithful
ness to her trust. Here are the Scriptures and
here her articles of belief. Do they correspond or
not ? If they do not, let us bring them into corre
spondence. If they do, then the truth expressed is
the same in both cases, whether scattered through
out the Divine utterances, or concentrated in the
human formula. If it is the same truth, it must
have the same authority. The assertion that doc
trines are human theories involves either a denial
of the infaUibUity of the Word of God or a denial
that the dogma coiTesponds with the Word. If
it rests on neither of these it is a trick of words
and no more.
This difference between all schemes of philosophy
and the dogmas of the Christian faith is vital.
The process of the former is deductive from hy
potheses arbitrarily assumed in the mind itself, and

V] Method of the Faith. 175
which have no relation or correspondence with the
phenomena of the world and are not supposed to
have any. The process of the latter is inductive,
and therefore transfers the reahty of the facts into
the generahsation founded upon them. The dogma
taught by the Church contains all the truth con
tained in the Scriptures and nothing more. The
human speculation inherits aU the uncertainty of
the human hypotheses : the Christian dogma aU
the certainty of the Divine revelation. In the one
case we start from human theories, and the result
is therefore theoretical throughout ; in the other
we start from, facts, and the result has the nature
of a fact throughout. All doctrines are statements
of facts in the sphere of the Divine and unseen,
as aU scientific formulas are statements of facts in
the sphere of the material and visible.
But not only do Christian dogmas possess all
the certainty attached to the inductive process of
enquiry, but they possess it to a degree belonging
exclusively to themselves. This arises from the
greater certainty of the facts constituting the pre
mises of the induction. The facts of physical science
are sensible phenomena gathered by observation,
tested in each case by repetition on the part of
each particular observer, and by corresponding
results on the part of other observers. In this
way we ascertain the facts relative to the strata
of the earth beneath our feet, the chemical com
position of the air we breathe, the nature of the
electric forces existing on every side, and the

176 Dogma and Speculation. [Lect.
motions of the planetary orbs over our heads.
But however near our knowledge of these facts
may be brought towards actual certainty, they are
never quite certain and perhaps never can be, on
account of the improved methods and instruments of
enquiry brought to bear at succeeding periods. The
astronomers of fifty years ago probably watched
the heavens with as careful and accurate an ob
servation as the astronomers of our own day.
But they did not possess telescopes of the same
power, and the results of the observations were
therefore less accurate. For instance, our theories
relative to nebulas have been modified by the fact
that nebulae unresolvable by the telescopes of a
former day have been resolved by the more power
ful instruments of our own time. This is but an
instance of what is taking place in many depart
ments of natural science. A certain possibUity of
error consequently remains in aU the generalisa
tion of science, because it remains in the observed
facts which are generalised.
But with Christian dogma it is different. In
this sphere the data themselves, the observed and
recorded facts, are not the work of man but of
God. For instance, the words " God sent His
Son into the world " are the assertion of a fact.
" The Son of Man came to give His life a ran
som for many" is the assertion of another fact.
"He hath made peace by the blood of His cross"
is a third fact. " There is now no condemnation
to them that are in Christ Jesus" is a fourth

V] Method of the Faith. Ill
fact. In this way we might pass through all the
dogmatic parts of Scripture and show that every
truth is a fact, the statement either of something
that has been done, that is being done, or that
wiU be done by God in the sphere of the Un
seen. Now what security have we for the accuracy
of the statement, that is, for the truth of the
fact ? We have the authority of inspiration for
it. In this first stage of the inductive process,
the observation of the facts is done for us and
done by God. In proportion as all error is there
fore eliminated from it, and nothing is left for
man to do but the generalisation, in that pro
portion Christian dogma acquires the force of cer
tain and demonstrated truth.
In thus speaking I am arguing with those who
admit the first step, namely, the inspiration and
authority of Scripture. If this be denied the
dogma must be denied accordingly. If the Scrip
tural books are no more than human books, then
I most freely admit that Christian doctrines are
no more than human theories ; for the speculation
of man can never advance beyond the dignity of
a theory. But I am arguing with those — and there
are many — who admit in the language of the Creed,
that God " spake by the prophets," and believe these
books to be, in the language of our own Articles,
"God's Word written," and yet caU into question the
binding character of Christian dogma. To them I
reply that the books and the dogma must stand or
fall together. In exact proportion as the link uniting
N

178 Dogma and Speculation. [Lect.
them is strong and indissoluble, in that propor
tion the fuU Divine authority of the book exists
in the dogma.
Ill The two systems are sharply contrasted in
the instruments they employ. In speculative phUo-
sophy they are solely human. Not only does its
theory necessarily involve this, but it positively
excludes any other action but that of the human
mind, and therefore squares aU existence to a
human rule. It rejects all help from without, and
derives its primary ideas, as weU as its subsequent
deductions, from within. From this narrow starting-
point it claims to soar through the universe of
created and uncreated life, and to evolve out of
its own consciousness a complete system of the
world. It professes to possess in itself the key
to all secret mysteries, and to explain the eternal
laws of the immense whole of inteUigent and un
intelligent existence.
The claim involves the most prodigious assump
tions ; and if these are false the superstructure must
be as unstable as its foundations. It exaggerates
the ancient principle that man is the measure of
aU things, for it makes one faculty alone the
measure of all things. It wilfully shuts its eyes
to the limitations of its own imperfect knowledge,
and the notorious fact of man's inability to ex
plain, and incapacity to control, the commonest
phenomena of daily life. It despises even the helps
afforded by the senses and by the experienced
facts of the world outside. By so doing it affirms

V] Instruments of Speculation. 179
an infallibility so positive that it does not even
need to be corrected by the evidence of facts or
squared to their most palpable realities.
It takes its flight in the simple vigour of its
own native powers to explore the universe in its
depths below and in its heights above, and all
its infinitely multifarious and strangely complicated
detaUs. It professes to be master of the whole,
and thus superior to the whole ; looking into it
and through it as some human eye scans the
parts of a human machine. The very claim is an
assumption of Deity, at least an assumption of
prerogatives regarded by every emotion of reve
rence as peculiar to Deity. The thinker converts
himself into his own Deity, recognising no superior
intelligence to his own. He thus voids the world
of any higher mind, un-Gods it, as the lips of
unbehef have termed the process.
For if there be higher minds than the human,
whether they be angelic or unangelic, or whether
it be the mind of Deity itself, the claim becomes
absurd on the face of it. For the higher mind must
be capable of a higher exercise and higher ideas ;
capable of dealing with more complex relations
and with deeper and subtler mysteries ; must move,
in short, in a higher sphere, unapproachable by
the lower and more limited intellect. To assert
that the human intellect is capable of explaining
all things, is to deny that any higher inteUect
exists than itself. It thus empties the universe,
so far as its own conceptions aie concerned, of
N 2

180 Dogma and Speculation. [Lect.
any other intelligence, and stands its own sole
and undivided Deity, self-sufficient and autocratic.
In such a system the recognition of a personal
Deity in the world, a moral Governor over it,
and still more of a revelation from an unseen
Creator for the guidance of His creatures, cannot
possibly find any place. These ideas are eliminated
by the very assumption with which the process
begins. They are accordingly wholly absent from
its latest developments, and avowedly absent. Chris
tian language indeed survives sometimes, but it is
in ghostly words voided of all their distinctive
meaning. Thus, for instance, in the phUosophy of
Schelling [and Hegeuthe terms God, Trinity and
Unity, the faU of man, redemption, the Spirit,
faith, aU survive ; but they survive solely as ex
pressive of philosophic ideas, not of revealed dogmas.
In this manner the very theory of speculation
involves all the questions at issue with Chris
tianity. It takes for granted in the negative all
that revelation proves in the affirmative. The entire
structure is an enormous petitio principii.
The spectacle presented on comparing the
thinker with the prodigious problem he sets
himself to solve, is a memorable one. On one
side is the man; on the other side the world.
In the man is a brain that toils for a few short
years, and then corrupts in' the grave ; an intel
lect baffled by insoluble difficulties in famihar
facts of existence lying on every side; a conscious
ness confined to its own little circle of idea and

V] Instruments of Speculation. 181
experience. Here he stands, and over against him
is the world of existence — not this little globe
alone, but the system of which it forms a part,
the world immeasurable even to our thought,
mysterious above our searching, and intricate even
beyond conception. The two stand in close con
tact ; for on the theory there is no other mind or
will to separate them, and by the exercise of its
independent volition still further to comphcate the
problem. The man stands alone and self-sufficient,
and glancing at the immeasurable whole proceeds
in his own mental processes to grasp, and analyse,
and describe it ; to pierce its darkest depths and
search its profoundest secrets. It is impossible
not to admire the audacity of such an ambition ;
not to wonder at the strength of wing with
which it takes its soaring flight. But considered
as a serious attempt to solve the great mysteries
of man and God, it must be spoken of differently.
It can be no wonder that speculation should faU
— it is no wonder that it does fail — when the
very attempt is monstrous. WhUe we admire
the loftiness of its flight we must, be shocked
likewise at its arrogance. If speculative phUo
sophy exhibits the ambition of an archangel,
what wonder that it should share an archangel's
fall [7].
Speculation carries the cause of its faUure in itself,
since it begins by denying what it shotdd be its ob
ject to ascertain. For if there exists in the world
a higher intellect than man's, and if this inteUect

182 Dogma and Speculation. [Lect.
exercises in the higher sphere the same activity,
what wonder if the two cross and contradict each
other ? Suppose such an inteUect to exist and
to be infinite, and to an unerring perfection of
wisdom to add an unlimited power, so that it
is not only able to construct a Cosmos in idea,
but to give absolute immediate effect to its ideas
by the very force of will. What would such a
mind be but God ? For thus He is ever de
scribed in Scripture as creating and constructing
by no use of secondary instruments, but by the
omnipotence of His own Word. "He spake and
it was done, He commanded and it stood fast."
Such an exercise of self-existing and self-contained
prerogative is natural to Him who is eternal in
duration as well as infinite in being, for His ever
lasting " now " gives permanence to what He con
ceives, and by conceiving creates. But such a work
is as incredible in the scale of manhood, as it is
gloriously consistent in the scale of Godhead.
As an intellectual exercise metaphysical studies
may stand in competition for interest and disci
plinary value with any other branch of study.
Nor should we question but that there are a
true philosophy and a true science, the hand
maids of truth and the nursing-mothers of adoring
love and devoted service. St. Paul's language implies
this. He warns his converts not against philosophy
altogether, but against philosophy of a false kind.
Thus he warns the Colossians : " Beware lest any
man spoil you through philosophy and vain deceit,"

V] Instruments of Speculation. 183
and then he explains the source of the deceitful-
ness : " after the tradition of men, after the rudi
ments of the world, and not after Christ a." His words
to Timothy are of the same character : " Keep that
which is committed to thy trust" — the deposit of
divinely-inspired doctrine — "avoiding profane and
vain babblings" (to? f3e(3y\ovs Kevo(pd>via$) — the vain
empty boastings of a self-deifying wisdom — " and
oppositions of science, falsely so caUed." The
very words imply a true philosophy and a true
science. If phUosophy be the knowledge of the
moral, and science the knowledge of the physical
causes of things, or in whatever other way they
may be distinguished, they both must have their
highest seat before the throne of God, where in
the primal fountain of the Divine wiU all causes
have their being. The faith once dehvered to the
saints is a revelation of God and from God, and as
the Worker is greater than His works, it affords the
nearest approach to a knowledge of all created and
uncreated mysteries possible to us in this world.
But when philosophy stands in defiant hostUity to
revelation, and dethroning Christianity from its
seat, claims to be itself the self-sufficient teacher
and measure of truth, it assumes a totally different
character. We cannot wonder at the energy of
the inspired denunciation. The very object of such
a phUosophy is an impersonated unbelief, and its
first piinciple a lie.
The contrast presented by the dogmatic faith is
a Col. ii. 8.

184 Dogma and Speculation. [Lect.
sharp and strong. Speculative phUosophy discards
any other instruments than the human. But the
faith does not run into the opposite extravagance
and reject any other instrument of knowledge than
the Divine. In this temperate wisdom it bears the
signature of God and reflects His attributes. God
is the same in nature as in revelation, and has not
so constructed His word as to supersede or contra
dict His works. He has so framed His world as
to employ and stimulate our natural powers up
to their highest reach, and only where they
necessarily fail has He bestowed His own Divine
teaching to reveal what lies beyond their reach.
God has not given us His Word to teach us natural
science, because here the facts he within sensible
experience, and the path into a knowledge of them,
however laborious and difficult, is yet accessible to
the human intellect and the efforts of successive ages.
Nor in revealing things superhuman has He formu
lated and methodised the revelation, because this
also we are capable of doing for ourselves, and
the very form of the revelation in its contact with
our human wants has served to direct and stimulate
the effort. But where, from the very- nature of
things, what we needed to know for hfe and peace
hes beyond our searching out, there, and there alone
He has given us His revelation, unveiling with His
own blessed hands the smUe of His face and the
secrets of the world to come.
This is equally true in regard to the doctrinal
teaching of Scripture and the historical narratives.

V] Instruments of the Faith. 185
We might discover a philosophy of man; but by
what faculties could we ever frame a philosophy of
God ? His everlasting counsels before the world
began ; His purposes of mercy towards our race ; the
plan schemed, in consistency with His own attributes
and the interests of the universe He governs, for
our justification and sanctification; His designs for the
future in the glorification of His redeemed people,
and the establishment over this sin-stained world of
a final kingdom of righteousness and peace, — could
be found out by no conceivable human means. Where
the thing to be known is human, human faculties
are left to discover it ; where the thing to be known
is Divine, a Divine inspiration has revealed it.
This truth lies at the foundation of the whole
question discussed in these lectures, and does not
need to be amplified. But it is necessary to note
that it apphes to the facts of Scripture as closely
as to its doctrines. It is the strength of Chris
tianity, that its feet are on this earth of ours
while its soaring head is in the skies. It is bound
up in the history of the actual world and of races
still existing ; of one race above all, standing in
its mysterious life and equally mysterious isolation,
the undying monument of a historic faith. The
doctrines relative to the work and office of Christ
are inextricably bound up with the facts relative
to His hfe, and to the national platform on which
He stood with the prophetic diadem on His brow,
the manifest Messiah and the hope of all the ends
of the earth. It was impossible for us to know

186 Dogma and Speculation. [Lect.
the doctrines without knowing the facts ; and as the
doctrines and the facts were welded together in the
links of the same Divine plan, so the certainty of
the one is bound up in the certainty of the other.
There is, however, this difference between the
two : the doctrines were not knowable by man
without a revelation ; the facts were among things
knowable, but yet in the order of human results
could not be known without an inspired revelation
to attest them. The circumstance that human his
tory acknowledges itself to know nothing with
certainty belonging to a remoter date than eight
hundred years before Christ, and that events falling
long within this period are to our own day the un
settled subjects of endless debate, suffices for my
purpose [8]. If it was necessary for us to know
ancient facts, by an authoritative revelation alone
could the knowledge be conveyed. This is a large
subject, and rich in instructive thought, but it is a
landmark alone in my present argument, and the
course of my enquiry hurries us on beyond it.
I have now compared the dogmatic faith with
speculative phUosophy in three vital particulars :
in the objects sought, the method of enquiry pur
sued, and the instruments employed ; and on all
three have shown them to be distinguished from
each other by irreconcilable differences. On no
reasonable grounds whatever can they be identified.
To caU the faith a form of speculation, and its
doctrines human theories, may be a convenient
appeal to prejudice, or an illusion palmed uncon-

V] History of Speculation. 187
sciously on the mind itself; but it is a use of words
totaUy irreconcUable with the plain facts of the
case, and any honest enquiry must utterly dissi
pate it.
Here again, as in other cases, the appeal lies to
the undeniable facts of human history. Specula
tion should no more shrink from this test than
revelation. A comparison of the theory of " the
faith once delivered to the saints " with the facts
of the past has shown that such a faith actuaUy
exists, and is in its substance identical with the
faith of apostles and prophets as contained in the
Canonical Scriptures. Its history is like the un
broken course of some stately river, ever flowing
onwards from its first rise in the apostolic age
towards the glorious ocean of the prophetic future,
ever widening and deepening as it flows, and from
every bright wave echoing the everlasting song,
" Glory to God in the highest, and on earth
peace." But the history of speculation is totally
different. It is a weary tale of ceaseless effort
and of ceaseless failure. It is not one river, but
many ; a hundred streams, now wasted in the
barren sands, now stagnating in the malarious
marsh, now evaporating by simple inanition, earth-
born and earthly.
The progress of speculative thought has been
like the conduct of a man bewildered in some
dense and trackless forest. Brought to his present
spot by some able and faithful guide, he has
now in some way or another been deprived of his

188 Dogma and Speculation. [Lect.
assistance, and is left to shift for himself. He
has no knowledge whatever to begin with, for he
was never here before, and having neither chart
nor compass, is devoid of all data beyond what
he can gain by his own consciousness. He pro
ceeds after a while in search of a path of escape
from the sUent and solitary forest into the green
meadows and smiling scenes of happy industry in
the distance. From the dead level where he stands
no glimpse of the distance can be gained. The
tops of the taU trees close the boundary of view
on every side, and if he climbs them he but sees
the depth and boundless extent of the mysterious
circle wrapping him in on all sides. He is left
face to face with himself and the problem of
escape with all his man's wants and weaknesses
to urge him to a speedy solution of it. He
therefore makes the attempt and penetrates some
distance into the thick forest, till through the
matted and tangled labyrinth, or over the yawn
ing fissure, or down the steep precipice, or across
the over -hanging side of the barrier rock, he
can advance no further. He therefore turns
upon his steps, and following his tracks back
wards, finds his way to the point whence he
started. Then he tries again with the same
effort, and with the same faUure. Over and over
the same process goes on. But meantime the
day advances and night draws nigh. Natural
wants arise and crave in vain for satisfaction.
There is neither bread nor water in this lonely

V] History of Speculation. 189
forest. He lies down amid the darkness, and tries
to forget in sullen sleep his anxieties and de
spair. Another day brings another day's hopes,
another day's efforts, and another day's failure ; till
hke many an unhappy wretch in actual life, ex
hausted with effort, weak with hunger, and tor
mented with thirst, broken down by despair, and
sick with fond dreams of the home he will never
reach, he lays him down and dies.
Such has actually been the course of phUosophic
thought. A succession of new efforts from new ideas
as starting-points have ended in a succession of
failures, each effort like a faint wave that curls and
breaks before it reaches the shore.
Thus the recognition of a personal and superin
tending Deity, traceable doubtfully in Thales, and
distinctly taught by Anaxagoras, became again du
bious in Archelaus. The affectionate morality and
piety of Pythagoras degenerated into the super
stitious mysticism of the later Pythagoreans, and
his recognition of the immortality of the soul, and of
rewards and punishment after death, into a coarse
metempsychosis. The clear and lofty Theism of
Socrates, his recognition of virtue, and his per
ception of the true dignity of human nature, passed
through Plato into the disputative scepticism of the
Academy. The emphatic protest of the Eleatic
School against a gross and materialistic polythe
ism, and its distinct consciousness of the unity and
spiritual nature of God, became secularised in Par-
menides, and Atheistic in the sceptical sophistry

190 Dogma and Speculation. [Lect.
of Zeno and the ascetic dualism of Empedocles.
The pleasure-loving school of Aristippus ended in
the sullen discontent of Hegesias, the death-per
suader. The recognition of the inductive basis of
aU human knowledge belonging to Euchd of Me-
gara, evaporated in the idle sophisms of Eubu-
lides and Diodorus, and the logical fallacies of
Stilpo. The idealistic philosophy of Plato, with its
strong resemblances to revealed doctrine on the
subject of God and the soul, and sin, and the
other life, died out in Polemo and Crates in one
direction, in the sceptical uncertainty of Archesi-
laus in a second, and in the probabilities and lax
morality of Carneades in the third. The philo
sophy of Aristotle, pure if cold, and elevating if
selfish, ended in the materialistic Atheism of Strato.
The rigid self-control of Antisthenes became an
extravagance in the severity of the Cynics and
the sullen pride of Diogenes. The natural virtue
of Zeno passed into the subtle negations of Chry-
sippus. The principle of Epicurus, that pleasure
was to be found in virtue, was turned by a play
of words into the principle which has made
Epicurean a name of reproach throughout the
world. The craving of the Alexandrian School
after union with God was developed into the im
pious mysticism of Plotinus. Even the philosophy
of Locke was perverted into the materialism of
Hartley, Priestley, and Darwin, the sensationalism
of CondiUac, the selfishness of Helvetius, the
fatalism of D'Holbach, and the naked Atheism of

V] History of Speculation. 191
the French Encyclopaedists. Lastly, the idealism
of Descartes prepared the way for the blasphemies
of Schelling and Hegel [9].
Thus throughout all human speculation the same
law has prevaUed. Many great and noble ideas
have been thrown out, fragments of revealed truth,
or sparks of heavenly light, received, we know not
how, through the mercy of that God who has,
more or less, wrought in the loftier spirits of our
race as they lived and died. But however they
may have been acquired, two things are certain.
It is indisputable that in the minds of the founders
of philosophic schools they existed only dimly and
darkly, and were never framed into a complete
and coherent system. Equally certain is it that
as soon as men began to reason upon them the
fragments of truth themselves were refined away
and lost. None of them ever retained permanent
vitality. None of them exercised a controlling
influence over mankind. The one fact is the ex
planation of the other. What is not able perma
nently to live is not likely effectually to act.
The whole process has consisted of flashes of
light for a moment iUumining the darkness, like
rays of divine sunlight shining from heaven, and
then gradually dying away amid the ever-deepen
ing shadows of human ignorance and misery.
I appeal to philosophy itself, and call it as a
witness to the coiTectness of this statement. If
it were competent to achieve its objects, its re
sults would exhibit something like uniformity and

192 Dogma and Speculation. [Lect.
definiteness, or, at least, would approximate to
wards them more and more as it advances. The
latest philosophy should present the largest amount
of truth, the crown of aU its preceding triumphs.
Such a phUosophy has indeed appeared, claiming
to supersede aU previous forms of speculation, or,
to speak more correctly, to be the final result
and climax of aU that has preceded it. An admiring
disciple declares it to be the grandest, because the
truest, system philosophy has yet produced [10].
The name sounds to the ear as if it would fulfil
the conditions of success, but the reality is very
different. Positivism derives its distinctive charac
ter much more from what it denies than from what
it asserts. Consistently with its materialistic cha
racter it formulates results and calls them laws. But
beyond the outside facts of the physical universe,
it discards all knowledge, and repudiates its very
possibUity. In regard to the world of matter, it
professes only to know phenomena, and even these
not absolutely. " Their essential nature and their
ultimate causes, either efficient or final, are un
known and inscrutable" [ 1 1]. It thus rejects with
contempt the entire philosophical framework of the
past, and brands it with foUy. A more pregnant
acknowledgment of the utter failure of all human
speculations cannot be conceived than this act of
public suicide, as weary and sick at heart with use
less searching it strips itself of all its arrogant
claims, and stands forth in its bare and naked
materiahsm.

V] Positivism. 193
Positivism has done more than this. It has found
cause of satisfaction in its faUure, as if to dis
cover the fact were a triumph. It has reduced
the very process into a philosophy. The religious
recognition* of the supernatural elevated by the
sentimental school of scepticism into the highest
religion, is regarded by Comte as the lowest and
barbaric stage of human thought. From this the
reason advances, as he considers it — retrogresses,
as the Christian believes — into speculation, and
finding this vain and empty takes refuge in Posi
tivism, and thus finds its highest climax in the
recognition and systematising of its own ignorance.
He distinguishes three stages of thought : the belief
in the supernatural, that is, the sentiment of religion,
is the first and lowest ; the process of frittering
away belief in the vain effort to explain the
causes of things, is the second ; and confessed igno
rance is the third [12]. If we place on one side
the whole of revelation and its influence on the
course of human opinion, I believe this account
to be exactly true and to be supported by the
irrefragable evidence of the facts. The undoubted
course of unassisted human thought in its efforts
to understand and explain the mysteries of the
universe has consisted of a series of efforts and
a series of failures.
If a Christian had said all this, he would have
been charged with ignorance and prejudice. But
who shall doubt the truth of the description when
philosophy itself has drawn it ? Speculative thought

194 Dogma and Speculation. [Lect.
in this its latest development has surely dug its
own grave and written its own epitaph, and written
it, moreover, in inspired words : "Vanity of vanities,
all is vanity." In its complacent admiration of
the beauty of the monument, it forgets the cor
ruption and death within, and how large a por
tion of the mental history of man, how many
soaring ambitions, how many hopes and prospects
lie buried in that tomb. Often in the history of.
the world has the heart of man borne unconscious
witness to its own disappointment and the utter
inadequacy of the creature to fill the affections
of an immortal nature ; but never since men first
began to think and feel have such a misery and
such a pride, such a ruin and such a complacency,
found utterance in a confession so complete or so
strange as this.
Thus on every side distinctions between specu
lative philosophy and the dogmatic faith present
themselves to the notice. They differ in their
objects. Philosophy looks only to the intellect, and
does not even attempt to supply the practical
wants of the conscience, the will, and the affec
tions. The faith, on the other hand, fixes itself at
the central springs of the whole complete man, and
throned in the will and the conscience, throws its
blessed beams over every part, reason, affection,
feeling, character, and conduct, diffusive and quick
ening as the sun in the natural heavens.
They differ in their methods. Philosophy relies
upon deductions from ideas devoid of all external

V] The Contrast. 195
evidence and speculatively conceived in the mind
itself. Its authority is self — the human faUible
self; and its conclusions are loose and indefinite
as the authority whence they are derived. The
faith, in its formal shape, consists of inductions
from Divine facts, generalised from the inspired
records by the process to which we are- indebted
for all the marvellous triumphs of natural science
and art in modern times. The Divine facts are
themselves divinely given, and free therefore from
the faUibihty attached to human observations even
at their best. The dogmatic doctrines as for
mulated by the Church are no more than the
Scriptural truths in a technical statement. They
therefore rest on the same authority — that is on
the authority of God. Hence they are clear, de
finite, positive, and unchangeable as their Author.
But philosophy and the dogmatic faith differ no
less widely in the course of their history. The hfe
of philosophy has ever been flickering and in
constant, blazing up into flame here and there,
and then immediately dying away again. The
hfe of Christian dogma was steadily progressive
up to the Christian era. Then, under the special
inspiration of our Lord and His apostles, it broke
all at once into glory, rising to its zenith in a
revelation containing all things necessary for salva
tion, and able to make the man of God "perfect,
throughly furnished unto all good works." From
that zenith it has never declined. No cloud has
permanently niterrupted that light ; no progression
o 2

196 Dogma and Speculation. [Lect.
of time or change has darkened its beams or ener
vated its quickening powers. It shines like the
sun over a troubled sea. Schools of philosophy
have been no more than the sea waves rising
and falling again ; but the everlasting sunbeams
shine on and shine for ever, eternal and immutable
as God.
Lastly, they differ in their results. Philosophy
has done little for the world. It has not one
practical triumph to show. It has discovered no
new truth, it has inaugurated no new principle, it
has produced no new element of good. It cannot
point to one of life's many evils either removed
by its strength or alleviated by its influence. It
has achieved no triumph of civUisation, no trophy
of human happiness. Were the whole swept away
we should not lose any abiding or substantial
benefit. Were all else swept away and it left
alone, we should sink into absolute ignorance, and
should not possess one fixed truth to elevate human
nature by its dignity, or bless it by its beneficent
influence. The dogmatic faith has given us Christian civilisa
tion, with its national hberty, its pure morahty, its
lofty benevolence, its energetic activity and enter
prise. This is its lowest effect. It reveals all we
need to know ; answers every question relative to
ourselves and to the Unseen we need to ask ; plants
a new hfe within the soul itself; comforts every
distress, brightens every joy, makes life worth living,
and then transforms death into the threshold of

V] The Contrast. 197
another and a higher state. All this it does
because it is dogmatic. Take away the dogma,
and you take away the Divine foundations, and
in their absence the grand superstructure totters,
shakes, and crumbles into ruin.

LECTURE TI
CHEISTIANITY AND CIVILISATION
i Tim. iv. 8
Godliness is profitable unto all things, having promise of the
life that, now is, and of that ivhich is to come.
JbEOM the barren sohtudes of inteUectual specu
lation, the course of my argument passes back
into the busy working world and the conflicts
of its principles and interests. Neither in the
loose sentiment of religon, nor in the efforts of
the human soul to meet its own moral wants,
nor in the theories of phUosophy, can be found
either the originating cause, or the formative prin
ciple, or the influential rival of the dogmatic faith.
But another process of contrast and comparison
must be gone through. A fresh claimant starts up
in what is called Civilisation.
It is not easy to define what is meant by the
word, for it represents rather an aggregate of things
than any one single thing. We denote by it the
habits of life, social, domestic, and intellectual,
which have grown out of the aggregation of man
kind into communities. The tribes of the human

Civilisation defined. 199
family, so far as they have maintained their nomad
state, have been found in a condition of barbarism
or savagism, rude in habits, ill-clothed, ill-sheltered,
ill-fed ; for the most part low in inteUect, incapable
of either governing themselves or of being governed
by others ; the creatures of their own wUd impulses,
and moved, like the beast, by natural passion and
affection alone.
This account of the matter is not without excep
tions. There are savage tribes who live in settled
communities of a kind, and their savagism is attri
butable to their isolation from the rest of mankind.
There are also communities isolated from contact
with their feUow-men for centuries, as in China
for instance, who can in no sense of the word
be caUed savages, however rude and barbarous
their state in some particulars may be. But it is
sufficient to say, in general, that as men have been
gathered into settled communities and brought into
free contact with themselves and others, a definite
and orderly change has taken place in their con
dition. They have occupied themselves in the pur
suits of settled industry, have built permanent cities,
have acquired property, have regulated the rela
tion between themselves by fixed laws, have esta
blished regular government, have acquired a taste for
luxury and enjoyment, and have cultivated the arts
subservient to the wealth, comfort, and prosperity
of man. The whole condition thus reached repre
sents a very large aggregate of separate particulars
and separate influences. But as all the world over

200 Christianity and Civilisation. [Lect.
it has exhibited a certain unity in its progress,
and certain common features in its development,
we generahse the effects into one idea, and caU
it civilisation [i].
The exact relation existing between civilisation
and the Christian faith, and the precise questions
arising out of it, need to be accurately distinguished.
The broad controversy is represented by the ques
tion relative to the priority of the two. Should
civUisation precede Christianity, and does it in point
of fact precede Christianity, or should Christianity
precede civilisation ? But the argument must not
be exaggerated on either side.
Thus when it is urged that civilisation does and
must precede Christianity, it is not necessarily
intended to deny the value of a definite religion
or wholly to exclude its influence ; it is only meant
that it is of no use to teach the definite and dog
matic doctrines of Christianity, till men have already
advanced to some considerable degree in the culti
vation of the intellect and the arts and habits of
civilised hfe. The argument involves three supposi
tions, each of them suggestive as it arises of some
further questions.
I In the first place, it involves the behef that
men in a rude state are mentaUy mcapable of un
derstanding the doctrines of the Christian rehgion,
and need the labours of the schoolmaster before they
are able to profit by the ministry of the preacher.
That the intellect is generally in a low state in
savage peoples, and that it is palpably incapable

VI] The Intellect of Savagism. 201
of abstract reasoning, is certain ; but we must take
care that its defects are not exaggerated. The
condition of scattered peoples, such as the wretched
Bushmen or the iU-developed Australian, reaches
indeed to the lowest degradation conceivable in crea
tures orginally gifted with intelligence. The aspect
of humanity among such tribes is most humihating.
The intellect is almost lost, and the entire habits
more nearly resemble the irrational^ animal than the
rational man. But such a description is very far
indeed from being true of savage tribes accustomed
to congregate into communities, such as the North
American Indians and the various tribes inhabiting
the islands studded hke gems on the bosom of
the sunny Pacific. There the inteUect is found
possessed of great acuteness and sharpened into
considerable ability, whUe industrial art flourishes
in some directions, and has been found in the
past side by side with the atrocities of a revolting
cannibalism. Such tribes are by no means devoid
of intellectual activity. That they are unable to
understand intellectual refinements ; that they could
not appreciate, for instance, the subtle definitions
of the Athanasian Creed, is most true. But if the
objection means no more than this, it is founded
upon a misapprehension.
I have shown in a previous lecture that the
Creeds really contain no more truth thaii the simple
doctrines out of which- they grew. The whole Atha
nasian Creed in its substance is contained in the
doctrines of the Trinity and the Incarnation.

202 Christianity and Civilisation. [Lect.
It by no means foUows, therefore, that because the
savage cannot understand the theological definition,
he cannot understand the revealed truth which the
definition was invented to defend. Wherever the
common relationships of life are recognised, and
mutual affections cultivated, and the shghtest sense
of law possessed, ideas must exist, and correspond
ing language, generaUy sufficient to teach the grand
outlines of Christian dogma. The state of a con
demned being, the act of saving one in danger, the
love of God in the forgiveness of an enemy, the
incarnation of the Deity, the protection and help
of an unseen Spirit, are aU truths so germane to our
natural modes of thinking, speaking, and acting, as to
be easUy understood. To this experience positively
testifies. The detaUs of doctrine may be beyond
comprehension; but the great simple truths of God's
love for sinners have ever been found to be within
it. The records of modern missions, as for instance
to New Zealand, Polynesia, and North America,
prove this beyond a doubt [a].
Moreover, another consideration should also be
taken into account. The Gospel does not consist of
the proclamation of a bare letter, but of a message
accompanied by a quickening Spirit. No believer in
the Person and office and work of God the Holy
Ghost, and in the promise of God that His word shall
not return unto Him void, can doubt the sufficiency
of this Divine agent, alike to open the portals of the
understanding, and to break down the moral barriers
of the will for the entrance of God's truth. What is

VI] Influence of Circumstances. 203
impossible with man is possible with God. To leave
out this Divine agency is to omit a vital condition of
the case. We must not strip half the truth away
and then declare the remainder to be incredible and
impracticable. This is done every day, and what
wonder if the result be wrong, when the process is
so manifestly unjust.
II The plea urged for the priority of civUisa-
tion over Christianity in the progress of mankind,
further involves the supposition that the spheres of
religious truth and of temporal wellbeing are not
only distinct but separate, so that the one may be
cultivated without the other. It is the common
mistake of dividing a man into two selves, instead
of regarding him as one indivisible being, and aU his
various faculties and powers as branches on one
stem, streams out of one fountain. The relation
between a man's inward self and his outward life
is intimate in the highest degree. It is impossible
to modify either one of the two without affect
ing also the other, so close is their mutual de
pendence. It is not however a dependence of
equality. None wUl call into question the supe
riority of the inward over the outward, not alone
in the essential characteristics of the two, but in
the predominant and ruhng influence of reason and
conscience over the outward life. The outward is
but the reflection of the inward. The true order
of progress is therefore not by acting on the inward
from the outside, but by acting on the outward
from the inside. Such as the man himself is, such

204 Christianity and Civilisation. [Lect.
will his condition permanently be. True civilisa
tion must not only include the inward self, but
must begin there. For tiU this is raised, all efforts
to elevate the outward condition wUl necessarily and
inevitably fail.
A curious illustration of this is afforded by the
known tendencies of savages brought for a while
under civUising influences, to relapse into the habits
of their barbarism directly they are left to them
selves. This is notoriously the case with the
African and the Australian. Let the force of the
superior will be removed, and in the absence of its
correcting influence the man returns to his savage
instincts, flings away the clothing and habits of
civilisation, and resumes the wUd, wandering, and
shiftless habits of his barbarism. The reason is
palpable. The civilisation acquired is only skin
deep, or not even that. It is but a thin varnish
thrown over the untamed instincts of the savage.
The man himself has remained unaltered, and the
remission of the moral influence leaves him free to
show himself in his own natural character.
On the other hand, there are many instances of
true civilisation being accomplished among savages
— a true civilisation, although an imperfect one. For
civilisation is not the growth of one generation, but
of many. Nor can men be expected to lose all the
traces of primitive savagism, tUl the taint has died
away in a generation of parents and is no longer
imbibed by the infant at the breast. But while
this is true, it is also true that a real civilisation

VI] The Outward and the Inward. 205
has been wrought both in individuals and com
munities. The existence of a native African bishop
bearing rule within the pale of the Church of
England is an instance of the one, and the settled
communities of Indians established within the bor
ders of the United States and cultivating the habits
of European life afford an instance of the other [3].
It foUows from the evidence at both extremes
that civihsation must be primarUy and essentially
inward. Till it is seated in the character, it can
exercise no abiding influence over the life. No
amount of external luxury, could the savage be in
troduced at a step into the refined and voluptuous
habits of old civilisations, would be of the least
effect on the man. But change the man, and in
that degree you give him not only new habits, but
new principles and powers.
This being so, where are we to find the trans
forming power to revolutionise the man ? It is
not in himself, and external influences are too
superficial. The moral leverage to upset the old
self and bring in the new can be supplied by
religion alone. In his untaught condition, when
his belief is rather a superstition than a religion,
this power is still found competent to dominate
over his passionate influences. Let religion be pre
sented* not in its human corruption, but in the per
fection and purity of the Gospel, in truths relative to
man himself and God equally simple and sublime, —
let it be presented, not as a dead human letter, but
as a message from God, accompanied by the living

206 Christianity and Civilisation. ' [Lect.
Spirit of grace and truth, — and then success is
possible. It is true of the heathenism of savagery
as weU as of the heathenism of civilisation, that
"the entrance of Thy Word giveth hght, it giveth
understanding to the simple."
The results of modern experience confirm this
in the highest degree. To those who find their
life-work in endeavouring to improve the condition
of our fellow -men at home among the crowded
haunts of London and other great centres of our
population, the two lessons — that you must act
upon the man, and that religion alone supphes
the effective mode of doing it, are the fixed
principles of social science. The most lavish
generosity in the provision of all outward com
forts, if it stand alone, is as great a waste of
effort as it would be to fling a bag of gold into
the midst of the sea. WhUe the moral self re
mains unchanged, the man will ever gravitate back
into his normal misery, just as a dead body lifted
by a strong hand to the surface of the water will
sink into the depths again as soon as it is left
to itself. But let the man be changed, and he
rises by the buoyancy of his own self-respect. Let
the drunkard become sober, the profligate chaste, the
liar truthful, the fraudulent honest, and there is no
longer occasion for anxiety about the temporal cir
cumstances of his life. The contingencies of sickness
and undeserved misfortune still remain to exercise
Christian charity, and by the bonds of a common
sympathy draw man to man; but where this pressure

VI] The Outward and the Inward. 207
is absent, the elevation of the man carries with
it by an invariable necessity the elevation of his
circumstances. This is the true remedy for human
poverty, for it reaches to the deepest spring of
earthly prosperity and joy.
Nor is the witness of experience less decisive
regarding the instrument of this elevating process.
I do not deny that education and secular morality
can do something, perhaps can do much. But
religion, working by education, and carrying mo
rality in its train, is the true instrument, far
exceeding in its power all others and far more
permanent in its action. To the force of secular
motives it adds the sanctions of religious duty
and the hopes and fears of another hfe. Eehgion
has all that secularism has, but has likewise
mightier influences of its own, powerful in exact
proportion as they are taught with definiteness
and authority and pressed home into actual contact
with the reason, the conscience, and the affections.
Experience in this matter does but place its seal
on the Divine promise, for even the warnings of
the Divine lips grow into the glory of promises :
" Bodily exercise profiteth little, but godliness is
profitable for all things, having promise of the
life that now is, and of that which is to come."
Ill But another assumption is involved in the
priority of influence claimed for civilisation over
Christianity. The claim implies that in proportion
to the increase of temporal comfort will be the sensi
bility to religious influence. Amid the stern struggle

208 Christianity and Civilisation. [Lect.
with poverty and the bitterness of griping want,
men have neither inclination nor time for religious
subjects. Take away the external pressure, it is
urged, and then religion will have opportunity and
sphere. That poverty does frequently tend to make
men indisposed to religious influences, and in its
extreme form brings them into a social state of
wretchedness, not included in the Divine purposes
nor recognised in His Word, may most readily be
admitted. The duty of a loving sympathy with
every form of distress, and a generous liberahty
in relieving it, wiU be accepted by none so cor
dially as by those who set the example of their
blessed Master continuaUy before their eyes. But
if sorrow sometimes hardens and exasperates, it
sometimes softens and breaks down opposition.
The effect of external circumstances of prosperity
or adversity upon inward character depends on
such complicated conditions and such personal
pecuharities, that no human knowledge can deter
mine it, much less classify it, so as to say that
one outward condition wiU have one definite moral
effect, and another condition a different one. The
same precise circumstances may produce totaUy dis-
simUar results in different men.
Nor must it be forgotten that the enjoyments
of luxury and the competitions of wealth have
their rehgious dangers as well as the pressure of
want and the struggle for daily bread. No be
liever in the inspiration of the Scriptures can call
this into question ; for we have the direct words

VI] Influence of Circumstances. 209
of our Lord for it : " How hardly shaU they that
have riches enter into the kingdom of Goda/' DaUy
experience ratifies their truth. The absorbing oc
cupations of the man of business, the capitalist,
and the politician, and the peculiar temptations
incident to their lives, are proverbial. In truth,
there is no possible condition of human things
without its moral dangers. The seat of the evil is
in man himself, and he carries it about with him.
The whole objection is founded on a forgetful-
ness of this truth. The Christian dogma of the
corruption of the human heart is too plainly sup
ported by the lessons of daUy experience to be
doubted as a fact, even where it is rejected as a
doctrine. The purpose of all law and pohce is
directed against this tendency to wrong-doing ; and
the lamentations of the rationalist acknowledge it
as fuUy as the doctrines of the Christian. To us
who believe with the Church of England that
" man is very far gone from original righteousness,
and is of his own nature inclined to evil," the
dogma explains the fact. The essence of sin is the
alienation of the will from God. The- human soul
no longer moves harmoniously with the Divine
Soul, and as the motions of the Divine Soul are
ever good, the contradictory motions of the human
soul must be evil.
This evil taint cannot be limited or locked up
in one corner of the man. It pervades the whole
of him. It does not act, therefore, in the strictly
a Luke xviii. 24.
P

210 Christianity and Civilisation. [Lect.
religious sphere alone, but in the social sphere like
wise. It thus affects the entire character, prin
ciples, and tastes. What are all the bad deeds of
the world, its acts of treachery, cruelty, oppression,
and violence — from the bitter word that stings hke
a serpent, to the dastard blow that destroys a hfe —
but branches on this stem, waters from this spring.
Divine grace alone can change the tendency. " If
any man be in Christ," then, and then alone,
" he is a new creature ; old things are passed away,
behold, all things are become newb." But tUl this is
done, the tainted nature retains its native tendencies
under every variety of circumstance. Outward condi
tions may modify and direct its development, but they
do not detract from its activity and force. This is
the spring of human repugnance to rehgion, and it
may act as fatally amid the luxuries of civilisation
as amid the miseries of savagism.
But if these cautions are necessary to enable us
fairly to estimate the claim of priority of influence
for civilisation over Christianity, corresponding cau
tions are equally necessary in estimating the oppo
site proposition. Those who claim the first place for
Christianity by no means either exclude or depre
ciate civilisation. In their opinion, Christianity is
the only efficient instrument of civUisation, and the
one in its highest form cannot exist without the
other. The work must begin with the man. Effect
a change there, and you accomplish it everywhere.
A higher standard of morals, a development of the
b 2 Cor. v. 17.

VI] The Case of Christianity. 211
social and domestic affections, freedom of thought
and vigour of mind, habits of industry, honesty, and
sobriety, and under their shelter the arts subservient
to human convenience and enjoyment, will all fol
low. Cleanse the fountain-head and the waters
wUl share the purification throughout every drop
and riU.
On this system all the ordinary motives for self-
improvement and progress supphed by the stimulus
of an enlightened self-love exist to the utmost. Not
one of them is weakened. The motives of self-pre
servation, and the yet nobler motives furnished
by the domestic affections and the relative duties
springing out of them ; nay the constitutional dis
positions and tastes, either for politics, or science,
or commerce, or war, are all there. The native
energy of character, capacity of mind, and force
of will constituting the heroes of the world, still
act under the shadow of rehgious dogma as else
where. The dogma neither exhausts the fertUity
of the sod nor withers the free growth of the
plant. The objection that the prospect of another world
unfits a man for the struggles and competitions of
the present, rests entirely upon a misapprehension.
Certainly no such tendency is either inculcated or
permitted in the documents of the faith. If a higher
state hereafter be presented as the glorious object of
hope, the duties of the present hfe are presented with
equal vividness and force as the road of entrance
into it, — the course to be run and the elements of the
p 2

212 Christianity and Civilisation. [Lect.
account to be rendered at the judgment-day. If
any tendency to unfit a man for practical life be
seen in individual cases, it derives no sanction from
the faith, but arises wholly and solely from per
sonal defects. Its existence is no jewel in the
Christian crown, but a shadow detracting from its
brightness. Nor is there any more truth in the assertion
that the heavenly citizenship weakens the spring
of patriotism. However plausible in theory, it is
disproved by fact. Who can realise the august
figure of our Master weeping over Jerusalem and
question His patriotism 1 The deepening shadows
of national ruin may not wholly exhaust the sources
of His tears or explain those profounder sympathies
which drew them from the eyes of the God Incar
nate; but they constituted a part of them. They
concurred with the deeper emotions of the Saviour
of the world, and gave pathos to His words. If His
prescient eye looked deeper and saw further — deeper
because it reached from the temporal to the spiritual,
further because it stretched beyond the perishing
city to a perishing world, — His patriotism only
caught from this a more touching tenderness and a
sublimer depth. In consistency with this example of
our Master many of the purest-hearted and highest-
minded patriots in the world have been disciples of
the Crucified and heirs of the city that hath foun
dations, whose builder and maker is God. Who
shall count their number and marshaU their ranks,
from the heroic Maccabees to the gallant men

VI] The Case of Christianity. 213
who fought and fell amid the sultry heats of
India or in the trenches of the Crimea ?
Christianity, therefore, does not weaken the
natural virtues or the motives of temporal in
terest ; it only strengthens and enlarges them by
the concurrent action of a rehgious influence. It
elevates them from feehngs into principles, and
from the uncertainty of a selfish motive into the
solemnity of a bounden duty. It takes up the
lower motive into itself, and at once ratifies and
consecrates it by a Divine and perpetual sanction.
Christianity thus enlarges the area of motive, and
widens it to the whole nature of man. In its
absence civUisation can only appeal to interest and
self-love. But on this ground it is open to a retort
apparently unanswerable. A man may reply : ' I
prefer my barbarism to your civUisation. It suits
my taste better, and on a deliberate calculation of
gain and loss, I beheve that I shall secure a larger
amount of pleasure and - enjoyment by a life of
wandering idleness, and freedom from all restraint,
than I shall by treading all my days the duU
routine of respectable industry and order.' No
effective answer can be given to such a reply. If
you teU him that the moral and mental pleasures
he loses belong to a higher sphere and are better
worth having beyond all comparison than the bodily
sensations, he only retorts that he does not think
so. If you talk to him about the dignity of his
nature, he tells you that he does not care for
it. As a question of merely human phUosophy, he

214 Christianity and Civilisation. [Lect.
may not be far wrong ; for we are creatures of
habit, and many a sceptical school has been unable
to find any firmer basis for morals than the in
stincts of nature, the jus naturae of Spinosa. If
in despair you urge that he owes it to his fellow-
men to sacrifice his own inclination to the good
of the race, you only faU back on a plea, proved
by experience to be as powerless against the active
impulses of passion as a barrier of straw against
the rush of a swollen river. Thus the human
motive fails, simply because it does not appeal to
the entire nature of man. But Christianity brings
another and a mightier force. The dogmas of our
created dependence, our responsibihty, and of the
resurrection, judgment, heaven and heU, at once en
lighten conscience and abash passion by the majesty
of God and the tremendous issues of an eternity.
Lastly, in the act of enlarging the area of mo
tive, Christianity increases likewise the acting force
within the soul. The human motive can bring
no more than a human influence. It employs
one part of the soul to control another part. It
thus does no more than divide self against self,
and initiate a doubtful conflict where the shghtest
circumstances may press down the balance in
either direction, and turn the fortunes of the
dubious battle we know not how. But Divine
truth brings with it the promise of a Divine
Spirit, working in and through the human under
standing, conscience, and affections, and investing
them with supernatural strength.

VI] The Case of Christianity. 215
The sceptic cannot deny this. If he rejects the
dogma of the operations of God ths Holy Ghost,
and considers it to be no more than the effect of
fanaticism, he must yet acknowledge it to be a
fanaticism of singular power. If the belief be a
belief alone, without any objective reality in the facts
of th3 spiritual world, yet the belief may turn the
victory, just as in ancient times the superstitious
confidence of some struggling army in the assist
ance of an angelic warrior has turned many a
doubtful battlj into a glorious victory. The
dogma brings a moral advantage, even if it be
untrue. But if it be true, as we beheve, it sup
plements human effort with a superhuman energy.
Civilisation becomes the result of two great fac
tors, the human agency and the Divine. God
and man move on together towards a common
goal. The wills of the two are concurrent circles;
man the secondary instrument, God the efficient
agent, and a future empire of righteousness and
peace, such as the world never yet has seen, the
magnificent and everlasting issue.
Such are the two conflicting opinions contend
ing for the mastery. The one places civilisation
first in order and influence, and would bring in
Christianity to supplement a work already done;
the other places Christianity first in order and
influence, beheving it to be the sole efficient
cause of any true and permanent civUisation.
Both parties admit the value of Christianity and
of civihsation, but differ upon their relative place

216 Christianity and Civilisation. [Lect.
and influence. To settle the question we must
make appeal to the experience of the past. The
history of the world presents us with two civihV
sations, the heathen and the Christian; the one
rested on reason, the other rests on revelation ; the
one was sceptical, the other is dogmatic ; the one in
its origin and instruments was human, the other we
beheve to be Divine. We must examine and com
pare the two. The differences are as palpable as
they are significant.
The heathen civilisation presents itself first. This
is confessed to be undogmatic, because it was not
based on a positive revelation, and in its absence
men could discover no positive system of truth for
adoption. The state of mind produced by the long
series of philosophies which in successive waves had
swept over the world of thought, was an almost
absolute and universal scepticism. In this con
dition Christianity found mankind. That it was no
rebound from excessive authority, no rebellion of
the free inteUect against the bonds of dogmatic re
straint, is certain from the methods of ancient phi
losophic teaching. It is impossible, for instance, to
imagine anything more unlike dogma than the
entire structure of the Platonic Dialogues, alike as
regards the opinions advanced and the method of
advancing them. Free enquiry had the most un
limited scope, and the death of Socrates is no
exception. His condemnation was due less to
the freedom of his enquiry than to their results
upon the popular religion and his own unbending

VI] Heathen Civilisation. 217
independence in maintaining them [4]. Not only
was thought free, but in its freedom it ran in
exactly the direction of the free thought of our
own day. The modern opponents of dogma only
re-echo the thought, and almost the language,
of their ancient prototypes. The assertion of an
universal and primitive rehgion surviving un
changed beneath the variations of doctrine ; the
sufficiency of the human reason ; the necessity
for free enquiry to correct what was, deemed
the superstitious behef in the supernatural ; the
eternity of matter ; the constancy of law and order
superseding the possibility of Providence or reve
lation—the koivoi toVoj of modern rationalism, —
were aU of them known and urged by the ancients.
Free thought had every possible advantage, and
the civilisation amid which it lived and flourished
should accordingly, if its claims were true, have
contained the abiding elements of human happi
ness and progress. The stern evidence of the facts
compels a very different conclusion.
It is exceedingly difficult to realise the civilisa
tion of the ancients. The difficulty does not arise
from the difference of their climate to ours, and
the corresponding difference of their manners and
habits; for it is not impossible to make the neces
sary allowances for these conditions. It would be
palpably absurd to measure the houses and domestic
arrangements, or the meals and dress of the burning
East, of siumy Greece, and of imperial Eome, by the
standard of Western Europe in our own times. In

218 Christianity and Civilisation. [Lect.
these particulars the ancients foUowed the conditions
of country and climate at least as sensibly, perhaps
more so, than we do ourselves. But the difficulty
arises from the almost total absence in the ancient
civilisation of that moral element which constitutes
the very heart and life of the modern.
The absence was entirely natural, when morals
were a theory of philosophy and not a solemn obliga
tion of conscience ; when the popular mythology was
an exaggerated caricature of human nature in its
vices and its sorrows ; and when actions, esteemed
among ourselves too detestable to be named, consti
tuted part of the services of religion. The philo
sophic few doubtless looked down with contempt on
the folly of the popular belief; but there is no evidence
that they detested the wickedness of the popular
practice. It is certain that the most illustrious men
of heathendom considered the deepest crimes in the
Christian code to be venial and excusable, if they
were not even laudable. Plato's Dialogues contain
indisputable evidence on this subject [5].
The absence of the moral element was therefore
no more than natural ; and yet it separates the two
civilisations by such an abyss of difference that
imagination can hardly cross it. The result is to
lower our ordinary estimate of the past below the
truth. A state of society where the idea of moral
purity was unknown; where the relation between the
sexes had no religious safeguards; where women
were so degraded that friendship scarcely existed
except between men; where domestic virtue was

VI] Heathen Civilisation. 219
alhed with ignorance, and intellect with such
splendid infamy as to fiU the mouth of mankind;
where any bond of common humanity was unknown,
human life frightfully cheap, and human suffering
regarded with such dreadful indifference as to supply
sport to the gentle and refined,- — such a state of
society differs so wholly from what we are accus
tomed to, that we cannot realise it. The result is
that, finding the ancients so immeasurably below
us in the moral element, we are apt to think them
equally below us in all others. Thus we fail to
appreciate their civilisation, and are apt to consider
it much less complete and wonderful than it was.
This is a great mistake.
It is certain that if we put morals on one side,
with aU the direct and indirect influences associated
with them, ancient civilisation was a splendid
achievement. In external circumstances it reached
a height of refinement, or rather sank into a depth
of selfish luxury, unknown among ourselves. If on
one side their domestic habits appear rude to our
notions of comfort, the exquisite and genial tem
perature in which they lived must be taken into
account. It is said that climates exist even in
our own day so perfectly tempered as to make
the very act of hving a delight, and to produce a
physical buoyancy and cheerfulness that give an
appearance of amiability even to the repulsive fea
tures of savage life [6]. In judging of the ancient
houses and dress, this must ever be remembered.
That what we think rude and comfortless, was not

220 Christianity and Civilisation. [Lect.
the necessity of ignorance, is certain from the lavish
voluptuousness displayed in other directions. The
elaborate entertainments, the costly furniture, the ex
quisite fabrics used for dress by the opulent, and the
excessive luxury of ancient civilisation in its latest
form are made known to us by Juvenal and others [7].
In industrial arts the ancients had attained consider
able skiU. In statuary and architecture modern
genius vainly toils to follow in their track. Their
idea of physical beauty reached the highest per
fection. In the pure sciences they attained, con
sidering the period of the world, a wonderfuUy high
standard. Their philosophic thinking and writing
exhibit the utmost subtlety of genius and force of
thought. In every branch of human knowledge
they have left us models for our imitation. They
had large and generous views of human politics and
laws. AU these triumphs indicate a very high pro
gress and an advanced civilisation. In every par
ticular, with the one sole exception of the moral
element, they carried human advancement to its
highest point. For lustre of genius, brilhancy of
wit, fertility of imagination, depth of thought,
artistic taste and skill, assthetic sensibUities, and
keen relish for pleasure, the latest period of heathen
civilisation has never yet been excelled; perhaps
never equalled.
Yet splendid as was the achievement, the absence
of the moral element was fatal. Ancient society
perished by its own inherent rottenness. Its enor
mous aU-pervading immorality sapped the foundation

VI] Heathen Civilisation. 221
of virtue. The social virtues perished first and
the political followed. The mass was corrupt to
the very core. Its strength perished by the mere
exhaustion of its OAvn vices. The ancient Eoman
empire, in which heathen civUisation culminated,
became like a tree hoUow and rotten within, and
scarce maintaining its appearance of solidity, tUl the
breath of the first tempest beat it to the ground.
National vigour and patriotism perished with na
tional virtue ; and when the barbarian tempest
overthrew it, it was because the manly virtues
survived in barbarism which had died out in civi
lisation. The whole previous history of the world
had repeated the same lesson. Assyrian, Babylonian,
Persian, Greek, all perished from within. Progressive
civUisation was retrogressive virtue ; and civilised
effeminacy feU before vigorous barbarism. Instead
of being the stimulant and conservator of virtue,
heathen civihsation was its enemy and destroyer.
But if we ask why amid all this blaze of in
tellectual knowledge morality should have died
out of heathen practice, the answer must be, be
cause there was no- dogmatic basis for morality, no
absolute authority to enforce it. Human law re
flected the debased standard of the law-makers, and
no Divine law was known to supply its defects.
That this is the explanation is proved by two facts
which have been less noticed than they deserve to
be. The one is that the more ancient periods of
heathendom were more virtuous than the later, and
exhibit a higher moral standard [8] ; and the other is

222 Christianity and Civilisation. [Lect.
that they were hkewise more dogmatic [9]. For the
one fact I refer to the comparatively lofty standard
of the Ihad and Odyssey, where the conception
of female virtue is far higher and purer than the
standard known to have existed in later times.
For the other I refer to the ancient Greek trage
dians, where strong gleams of rehgious truth — -what
I may call Christian truth — are to be found. Such
are, for instance, the intimations of a moral govern
ment over the world, a future state of rewards and
punishments, and even of a bodUy resurrection.
But all these died out, or rather phUosophy argued
them out of the deep-seated instincts of the human
soul. Thus we see that in ancient civUisation re
ligious dogma and moral virtue existed together,
and subsequently perished together.
We now pass from the sceptical to the dogmatic,
from the heathen to the Christian civUisation.
Great and specific differences meet us here, and are
referable to equally specific causes. They are not
totally unlike. It might be said that there is on
a superficial view great moral resemblance between
them. That the Christian civilisation has not ex
pelled vice or engendered universal purity of morals
is most true. An enormous amount of moral evil
festers at the heart of society. Here, as in all
other old civilisations without exception, a class
has been found to gravitate to the bottom and
faU beneath the recognised level, at whatever
standard that may be fixed. But even here the re
semblance is superficial and the difference essential.

VI] Christian Civilisation. 223
There can be no fair comparison between the moral
features of our own and of ancient civilisation,
either as to the amount of moral evil or as to
its forms of development. The case does not rest,
however, on a mere calculation of quantity, for
that may be a matter of opinion. But a specific
difference has to be taken into account, and it is
this. In the ancient civilisation indulgence in
illicit pleasure was in accordance with the pro
fessed code of society. It was both advocated in
theory and openly permitted in practice. It bore
with it no public stigma of "reproach ; was not
done in secret, but was professed before the eyes
of the world. It was not only defended but re
commended in the writings of philosophy on one
side, and actually enshrined in the service of re
ligion upon the other [10]. The immorality was
therefore the consistent result of the pubhc senti
ment of society and a recognised outgoing of its
life. Or, to state the matter yet more accurately,
both the principles and the practice of mankind
at that period had the same human origin, and
therefore bore the same human character. Nature
is a corrupt thing, and therefore its principles and
practices, unpurified by any higher influence, were
corrupt also. So completely is this the case that
we can scarcely blame the individual men, from
a human point of view. They did but reflect
the character and tendencies of their age.
But with the Christian civUisation it is very
different. The great evils existing among us are

224 Christianity and Civilisation. [Lect.
not results of a false principle, but of the viola
tions of a true. They contradict not only the posi
tive laws of the Christian code, but the moral
rules adopted by society from that code, and what
are considered to be the very decencies of our
civUisation. They are, therefore, not the fault of
the system, but of the men who violate it. And if
it be asked how it is that Christianity is powerless
to redress so great an evU, the answer is at hand,
stated in the documents of Christianity itself, and
with equal distinctness reflected in the facts of com
mon experience. It is furnished by the distinction
between a visible and an invisible church, a national
and an individual religion. Beneath the shadow of
a national faith there exist thousands and tens of
thousands who do not profess to be religious men,
or actuated by religious motives. To judge rightly
of Christian morahty we must put these on one
side, and confine attention to the more exclusive
circle of individual profession. I do not deny
that even here grievous inconsistencies are to be
found. The depravity of our nature breaks out
now and then into open and disgraceful vice. With
the warning instances of the ancient saints before
us, not only in such a case as the incestuous
persons at Corinth, but in the case of sainted
David himself, how can we wonder that gross
wickedness should stUl be found lurking among
professing Christians in our own day. Yet these
are but spots upon the lustre of the sun. Not
withstanding them the lofty morality of professing

VI] Christian Civilisation. 225
Christians, as a body, may challenge examination.
It exhibits a moral purity, a growth of the social
and domestic virtues, an activity of love and
generous benevolence, to which nothing approach
ing to a paraUel can be found in the previous
history of mankind. The existence of flaws and
defects only supplies another proof of the inspired
accuracy of Scripture. For the Word of God
declares loudly that such would be the case in
the Church mUitant. Nay, it goes further, and
begins with this case that series of doctrines which
explain the perplexing phenomena of human nature.
It traces the fact back to a dogma — the dogma
of the corruption of the human heart. How could
the facts be otherwise, if, as the Church of
England declares in her ninth Article, " Original
sin .... is the fault and corruption of the
nature of every man, that naturally is ingendered
of the offspring of Adam ; whereby man is very
far gone from original righteousness, and is of
his own nature inclined to evil. . . . And this
infection of nature doth remain, yea in them that
are regenerated."
Passing on to a further examination of Christian
civilisation, its greater length of hfe demands atten
tion. Ancient civihsation was interrupted by a
series of catastrophes. It was fixed in definite
centres of empire, and was involved in the fall of
those empires. It took, indeed, a new start from
their ruins, deriving from the founders of each new
empire a fresh infusion of the manly virtues, and

226 Christianity and Civilisation. [Lect.
thus perpetuating itself anew. But the internal
decay of these centres of empire and their faU by
the mere weight of their own moral corruption, evi
denced the inherent weakness of that civihsation.
It ever grew exhausted towards the centre, and
was replenished by the inroad of barbaric vigour
from the outside. But in the Christian civilisation
these conditions are changed. Modern kingdoms
have already survived for periods enormously greater
than the lifetime of ancient empires. Nor do they
as yet show any signs of internal decay. A poison
may lurk within the body politic, and throw itself
to the surface like a healthy effect of nature in a
diseased body. But without, and in comparison
with the less civihsed portions of the world, they
show no diminution of strength. So far from the
barbarism outside showing any tendency to break in
upon the settled civUisation within, the civihsed
empires are ever advancing upon the barbaric, and
bringing, by little and little, the utmost parts of the
earth into subjection. They maintain their unques
tioned superiority not only in arts, but in arms ; in
energy and enterprise, and force of wUl, and the power
to govern. The condition which universaUy obtained
under heathen civilisation is exactly reversed in
the Christian. Then, as men became pohshed they
became effeminate; now, as they are Christianised
they exhibit more illustriously every heroic virtue.
Their civihsation was the source of weakness; ours
is the source of strength [ii].
This effect is itself but the result of a dogmatic

VI] Christian Characteristics. 227
truth. Embedded in Scripture stands forth to
light the revealed promise that the Gospel shaU
be preached unto all nations, and the earth become
full of the knowledge of the glory of the Lord
as the waters cover the sea. What is the re
versal of the old conditions of the world, and this
ceaseless advance of Christian civilisation over the
length and breadth of the world, but the visible
realisation of the infallible promise ?
But further, this energy and strength of modern
civilisation can be referred to certain specific cha
racteristics distinguishing it from every other
development of civUisation previously existing.
And what is more, each one of these character
istics can be referred to a dogmatic truth by a
connection so close and necessary, that, if the dogma
be true, these characteristics could not faU to exist.
Tlie dogma explains the fact ; and the fact in
return verifies and authenticates the dogma.
I First in the list is the importance placed in
the Christian civihsation upon the individual man.
Ancient heathenism and modern rationalism ahke
complain of this, and place their hopes on the
great whole of humankind, and not on its individual
units. Yet security to person and personal rights
must be admitted to be the first condition of
civilised progress. With Christian society this re
gard to the individual is the result not of one
dogma but of many. It is in part the reflection
of the Divine personahty. The one man supplies
the starting-point of our conceptions of the one
Q 2

228 , Christianity and Civilisation. [Lect.
God. In part it arises from the dogma of the
immortality of the soul. Each man, whatever
may be his station, position, condition, becomes of
infinite value because he is a man ; and, as a man,
carries within his breast an immortal self of price
less value, wide capacities, and everlasting life.
Hence flow individual responsibility, individual sin,
individual faith with aU its fruits, individual sal
vation. Each one is the object of a redeeming
Saviour's atonement, and may be the subject of a
sanctifying Spirit's work. Each one is dealt with
by a special Providence here ; each one wUl have
to render a separate account at the judgment-seat
hereafter. When an individual is invested with
such tremendous interests, he cannot fail to recognise
the dignity of human nature in himself, and to
acknowledge it in others [i a].
II From this again flow the relative obliga
tions of man to man, breaking down the intense
and unmitigated selfishness distinctive of heathen
morality. The natural principle of self-love could
not faU to generate selfishness so long as men
regarded themselves as independent and autocratic ;
guisgue sui juris, each a law to himself and
owing obligation to none but himself. The grand
principle of the Christian code stands at the very
opposite pole : " Thou shalt love thy neighbour
as thyself." This depends upon two dogmas — the
dogma of creation and the dogma of redemption.
The whole race thus becomes a family, meeting
in one common centre and united by a common

VI] Christian Characteristics. 229
brotherhood. The revolutionary dreams of unity,
equality, and fraternity, find actual reahsation here ;
for there is no respect of persons with God, either
in the kingdom of grace or the kingdom of glory.
We are not our own, but twice God's, "bought
with a price." The natural bond of sympathy thus
created is converted from an affection into a prin
ciple by the positive command of God. Duty to
God and duty to man are parts of the same code ;
not as isolated and independent duties, but as
meeting in one and the same God, and invested
with the same tremendous sanctions. Sinai and
Calvary — the mountain burning hke a furnace and
quivering beneath the majesty of the descending
God, and the Cross on which Incarnate Deity
suffered and died amid the wonder of angels and
archangels — both meet in One, and the united voice
is love [13].
Ill A jealous sensitiveness over human life and
human suffering is a special characteristic of our civi
hsation, and, I beheve, the great test of all human
progress. Under ancient civilisation men rotted and
died like brute beasts. The picture drawn by history
of the serf population in Eome is shocking beyond
. imagination. An intense selfishness was the great
law, and extended from men to women, not only
exhibited in the features of war but in the despe
rate indifference of domestic life. Sympathy with
suffering was no part of ancient womanhood, if
the sufferer were a slave. Hence arose the fact,
often commented upon, that not a single public

230 Christianity and Civilisation. [Lect.
hospital existed in the ancient capitals of the East
and of the West. The only trace of such insti
tutions consists of private hospitals for slaves, just
as a careful master wiU provide for his property
among ourselves. But general recognition of a
man's right, because he was a man, to protection
during life, and assistance under suffering, there
was none. They might rot and die in thousands,
and none cared. How blessedly different is the
complex and elaborate machinery of modern bene
volence, as it singles out each form of human
misery one by one, and deals with it. We
think more of a single life than heathenism, either
ancient or modern, thinks of the life of thousands.
That this sensitive jealousy over human life and
suffering is due to Christianity, and only grows
beneath its shadow, can admit of httle doubt. It
is a necessary deduction from two dogmas— the
incarnation of the Son of God and the resurrec
tion of the body. The very flesh of man has become
great and honourable by its union with Godhead
in the person of the glorified Christ, and by the
prospects of its own eternal life and future glori
fication in heaven [14].
IV The idea of a moral and internal holiness is
the possession of Christianity alone. Among the hea
then it was entirely absent. Their notions of purity
were so whoUy external, that outward purity was
more definite to them than it is to ourselves. A
ceremonial uncleanness and ceremonial purification
appear to our minds so indefinite by the side of

VI] Christian Characteristics. 231
sanctity of heart, and will, and affection, that we
have difficulty in appreciating them. But they
were the sole conceptions of purity possessed under
ancient civihsation. The notion is apparent even in
the noblest Ulustrations of ancient female virtue.
Livy's Lucretia, destroying with her own hand the
flesh that had been contaminated by the touch of
wicked passion, iUustrates the feeling. For why
the destruction of the body, if the dignity of the
chaste and lofty soul within it had been adequately
recognised? An estimate of purity and impurity
which is distinctively material must ever blunt the
moral sense. The horror of Lucretia at the dese
cration was as rare as the mistaken heroism of her
death. But in recognising a moral and internal
purity, we have risen into a higher sphere of
thought and feeling altogether. This is the result
of dogma. The doctrine of human sin, pointing
out the seat of impurity and the doctrine of the re
generating power of God the Holy Ghost to cleanse
the fountain of its bitterness, are the parents, and
inward holiness is their offspring [15].
V From this principle we naturally pass to
another characteristic of Christian civilisation —
the sanctity of the home hfe. Ancient civUisa
tion was gathered around the pivot of collective
unity, and on its communistic principle the pos
sible cultivation of the domestic affections was
helplessly shipwrecked. The ideal republic of
Plato, the actual institutions of ancient Sparta,
and, more or less intensely, the prevalent customs

232 Christianity and Civilisation. [Lect.
of other portions of the ancient world, reflect the
same character. Individual affections perished in
the destruction of individual rights. Home, as we
understand it, with its quiet haven from hfe's
daUy storms, with its assured confidence of sym
pathy, its affectionate intimacies and mutual obli
gations, is the distinctive product of Christianity.
Its pleasant flowers grow best beneath the shelter
of the Cross. Nor is it difficult to specify the
dogma that has called home into existence. The
Fatherhood of God contains the germ of its de
velopment. The relation of the Father towards
His only - begotten Son, pregnant in mysteries
beyond our searching, and the adoption of the
Christian into the famUy of God, with its privilege
of sonship here, and its prospect of a glorious
inheritance hereafter, consecrate with their sanctity
the duties and the joys of home. How wonder
fully does the language of Scripture chmb as it
were these heights, and lead the thoughts upward,
till, from the pinnacle of the revelation, they look
into the other world — " If children, then heirs ;
heirs of God, and joint-heirs with Christ" [i 6].
VI Connected with the sanctity of home hfe
is the sacredness of marriage, and the religious
equahty of the sexes. The quiet confidence with
which, as a matter of course, without the neces
sity for any positive and expressed regulation, the
Scriptures imply monogamy as the primeval and
eternal law of marriage, has an emphatic force of
its own to every careful student of the Word.

VI] Christian Characteristics. 233
Beneath the withering blight of polygamy, what
ever gives elevation and purity to the relation
between the sexes pines and dies. There can
be no "home" beneath that upas-tree. But mo
nogamy, too, has a dogmatic basis, for it follows
from the spiritual espousals between Christ and
His Church. Not only are the prophetic Scrip
tures fuU of this illustration, but the apostolic
Epistles draw the links between the doctrine and
the marriage institution, close and strong. The
immortality of the soul, and the personal responsi
bility of each living being, fling their solemn sanc
tions over it, whUe the relations of the devout
women to our Lord during His earthly ministry,
and especially the Scriptural portrait of the Virgin
Mother, blessed among women, invest it with ten
derness and dignity [17].
VII Lastly, the identification of religion with
practice, and the presentation of the contempla
tive hfe as the preparation for the practical, have
likewise a doctrinal origin. Here, as elsewhere, the
faith settles the vexed question of their mutual
value, and adjusts the two by including both as
the parts of one life, as intimate and inseparable
as are the body and soul of man. The solitary
life is the perversion of Christianity, not its
healthy sequel; and to caU such a life the re
ligious life is a total distortion of its principles.
Life is, in the inspired teaching, the time for work.
The warning words of the wise preacher of Israel, —
" Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with

234 Christianity and Civilisation. [Lect.
thy might; for there is no work, nor device, nor
knowledge, nor wisdom, in the grave, whither thou
goest0," — find their echo in the graphic teach
ing of Him whose meat and drink it was to do
His heavenly Father's will — " I must work the
works of Him that sent Me whUe it is day, for the
night cometh when no man can workd." Two
doctrines, both of them distinctly Christian, throw
their guardian shadows over the lesson. First
comes the truth that we are not our own, but
God's, " bought with a price ; " and next comes on,
looking the soul full in the face, the awfulness of
the future judgment. Nor does the lesson of judg
ment end in the distinction between the two
broad classes recognised in Scripture, the righteous
and the wicked, but reaches beyond it into the
different degrees of future reward and punish
ment proposed for hope and fear. The parables
of our Lord are full of this truth. Twice over,
in singularly emphatic words and in this exact
relation, the apostle St. Paul affirms the uni
versality of the last solemn account of the great
day : " We shall all stand before the judgment-
seat of Christ e ; " " We must aU appear before
the judgment-seat of Christ, that every one may
receive the things done in his bodyf." From indi
vidual duty and individual judgment must follow
individual independence, since each must act for
himself, and for himself suffer or enjoy. The
principle of independence has, therefore, an origin
c Eccl. ix. 10. d John ix. 4. e Rom. xiv. 10. J 2 Cor. v. 10.

VI] Cause and Effect. 235
earlier than the Gothic nations, however much
their native character and political habits fostered
it. It was already at work within the pale of Chris
tianity, for it was a part of its dogmatic teaching:
"Every man shall bear his own burden£"[i8].
I have enumerated seven principles distinctive of
the Christian in contrast with heathen civUisation.
The importance placed upon the individual man ;
the mutual obhgations of man to man ; a jealous
sensitiveness over human hfe and suffering ; the
conception of a moral and internal holiness ; the
sanctity of home ; the religious equality of the sexes,
and the identity of religious belief with religious
practice, — are principles naturaUy connected with
each other as the links of a common chain. Not
in any one of these elements singly, but in the
combination of them aU, is the strength of our
civUisation to be found [19]. They are each and
aU referable to Christian dogmas, springing out of
them as naturally as the branches out of a root,
and exhibiting their characteristics as closely as the
leaves of a tree follow the character of the tree.
To the effect of these dogmas, all invested with
the same authority and accompanied by the same
sanctions, must be added the personal example
of the Lord Jesus Christ. His ministry conveyed
the teaching ; His personal hfe and character
embodied the illustration of it. He thus drew
the lessons out of the sphere of abstract morality
into the sphere of actual life. He showed them
e Gal. vi. 5.

236 Christianity and Civilisation. [Lect.
to be practicable lessons capable of adaptation to
the working world with its experience, trials, and
affections. In the sublime perfection of His character
they were all tempered together like the coloured
rays of one effulgent sun. The stress laid upon His
personal example has never ceased to consecrate the
activities of Christian obedience. His doctrine be
comes, through the operation of God the Holy Ghost,
a self-developing force, moulding from within the
whole character and conduct of His disciples into
the likeness of His own perfections, by an influence
at once as silent and as pervasive as the life
that breaks out in spring-time through every root,
and branch, and leaf. The love we bear to our
Master, and the absorbing concentration of every
hope, feeling, and emotion in His blessed person
and atoning work, at once give sweetness to obe
dience here, and ripen the soul for the full fruition
of the hereafter, when we shall be hke Him,
" for we shall see Him as He is."
Now if none of these seven principles had any
influence in heathen civihsation, but are all cha
racteristic of the Christian ; if, when the corre
sponding dogmas were unknown they were unknown,
and wherever the dogmas have been preached they
have become influential ; if all the world over,
wherever the Gospel has been proclaimed, and
under every diversity of race and climate the same
teaching has been followed by the same effects,
one conclusion only can follow. The differences
distinguishing Christian from heathen civilisation

VI] Cause and Effect. 237
must be due to the difference of its principles;
and these principles are the dogmas of the Chris
tian faith. The conclusion is confirmed by the
further fact that the activity of the influence is
exactly proportioned to the activity of the dog
matic belief. That the character of our civilisa
tion has spread beyond the circle of believers
in dogma, and leavens more or less the entire
community, is most true. It would be strange
indeed if it were otherwise. The wide-spreading
influence of moral principles can no more be con
fined within a limited circle than the hght can
be confined to one portion of the firmament and
excluded from the rest. But that among the
believers of the dogmatic faith the distinctive
principles of Christian civilisation exist with the
greatest intensity, admits of an easy proof. Count
the charities of the Church of Christ, — or rather
they cannot be counted, for their number and
extent, as they flow in ten thousand streams of bene
volence throughout the length and breadth of the
land, utterly defy calculation, — then look to that
portion of our community lying beyond and with
out the Church, and again count their charities,
if indeed you can find them to count. I do not
deny their existence, but certainly in contrast with
the flow of Christian activity they are no more
than the summer rill in contrast with the strong
deep river bearing navies on its breast.
Lastly, it should be observed that these effects on
our civilisation are not due to the Church, but to

238 Christianity and Civilisation. [Lect.
Christianity and to the action of its primary prin
ciples. Christianity has caUed the Church into
existence, not the Church Christianity [20]. Great
and noble has been the mission of the Church,
blessed and beneficent her influence ; but the re
vealed truth entrusted to her keeping is greater
than herself. She is a witness to her glorified
Master, and in the sense of her own dignity to
forget for a moment the undivided supremacy of
her living Head, is to cut away the ground beneath
her own feet. The chased and ornamental cup is
beautiful to the eye, but its use is to convey the
water to the parched lips of the dying man. The
failing senses of the suffering wretch wUl not heed
the beauty of the cup if it be empty of the hving
water. The glory of the Church is in the faith
committed to her charge; and her life and strength
are both alike laid up in Him whom the faith re
presents as " the way, the truth, and the life," and
on whose brow the adoring hands of the saints
place the triple crown, Prophet, Priest, King. Not
to the Church alone, as from the fifth century on
wards she maintained the hght amid the thick
darkness of the middle ages, but to the revealed
truth entrusted to her charge, are we indebted for '
our civilisation. Its birth-place lies higher up the
stream of time, even in the times of our Lord and
His apostles. There the Sun of righteousness arose ;
and in proportion as the Church of succeeding times
has been faithful or faithless to her trust, in that exact
proportion have His beams brightened the world with

VI] The Present and the Future. 239
liberty and peace, and consecrated its transient strug
gles with the prospect of an endless immortality.
In this, as in aU other respects, the claims and
assertions of the revealed Scriptures find their veri
fication in the actual facts of history. St. John
in his vision of the New Jerusalem saw "a pure
river of water of life " proceeding out of the throne
of God and of the Lamb, and on either side of
it the tree of life, whose " leaves were for the heal
ing of the nations \" The inspired description of the
result is fuU of grandeur : " There shall be no more
curse : but the throne of God and of the Lamb shall
be in it ; and His servants shaU serve Him : . . .
And there shall be no night there ; and they need no
candle, neither light of the sun ; for the Lord God
giveth them light : and they shaU reign for ever and
ever." That completed glory wUl but be the result
of agencies already at work, but the full meridian
day of which our Christian civUisation is the early
dawn. We are taught indeed that He to whom it
belongs wUl come to establish His own kingdom of
•righteousness and peace; but the glory of that king
dom of the future will be the crown and climax of a
work already begun in the present. The haUelujahs
-of the saints in glory will but re-echo the promise,
and place the seal of their experience on its fulfil
ment : " Godliness is profitable unto all things,
having promise of the life that now is, and of that
which is to come."
h Rev. xxii. 1-2.

LECTURE YII
CONSCIENCE, AND ITS RELATION TO
THE FAITH
2 COR. i. 12
For our rejoicing is this, the testimony of our conscience, that
in simplicity and godly sincerity, not with fleshly wisdom,
but by the grace of God, we have had our conversation in the
world, and more abundantly to you-ward.
IT is in entire accordance with the moral purposes
and with the structure of revelation that Holy
Scripture contains no theory of the conscience.
Appeals to its verdict are frequent ; but they
assume its existence and functions as a fact, and
do not explain its nature or its constituents as
a philosophy. The divinely - inspired references
thus supply materials for a judgment by furnish
ing what I may call Divine observations on the
action and properties of conscience, but it is left
to us to put them together and construct them
into a system. A devout believer in the inspi
ration of Scripture finds in its teaching the test
of his phUosophic theories. The steady light of
revealed truth acts like a beacon to point out

Teaching of Scripture. 241
the course of safety through the shallows and
quicksands and sunken rocks of a most intricate
and perplexing controversy.
In the Old Testament the word ' conscience ' does
not occur. The heart of man is described as the
seat of approbation and disapprobation, of convic
tion, contrition, and remorse. But although the
term is absent, the idea is not absent. It is truly
remarked by a German divine that the " entire
economy of salvation in the Old Testament is
founded on the fact of the conscience." Luther, in
his translation of the Bible, uses the word itself in
two places: Josh. xiv. 7, "As it was in my con
science," and Job xxvii. 6, " Thy righteousness I hold
fast and wUl not let it go. My conscience shall not
reprove me as long as I live." From the history
of the Fall onwards through the entire prophetic
Scriptures, the recognition of an inward moral
faculty in man underhes the sacred teaching and
bears witness to the words of Solomon : " The spirit
of man is the candle of the Lord, searching aU the
inward parts of the belly."
The teaching of the New Testament is naturally
much more specific, and may be reduced into de
finite propositions. The conscience is affirmed to
be the possession of the individual man ; in the
words of St. Paul, " having their consciences seared8"
(rhv ISl'av o-welSijo-iv). It is asserted to be the su
preme moral guide within the soul ; for the hea
then are to be judged by it. " If a man know his
a 1 Tim. iv. 2.
R

242 Conscience, and its relation to the Faith. [Lect.
doing to be in harmony with this law his con
science is ayaQrj b, jraXi? c, KaOapa d, a.Trp6cncoiro<s e. The
two parts of conscience are specified. If his deed
be evU, so also is his conscience, inasmuch as it is
consciousness of such evil (irovripa f ) ; it is peniao-fievi] s,
so far as the evil deeds shadow themselves in it
like blots; or KeKavrtipiaanevr)^, so far as it bears
them in itself ineradicably and indelibly like
brands " [i]. The self - consciousness constituting
the original meaning of the word in its Greek,
Latin, and French usage finds expression in many
passages, as in Heb. x. 2 : " The worshippers once
purged should have had no more conscience of
sins." A moral verdict of approbation or disappro
bation is involved in other passages, from which
I have selected the words of the text as neces
sarily implying the conviction of St. Paul's own
faithfulness in the discharge of his apostolic office,
for otherwise there could have been no rejoicing in
" the testimony " of his conscience. On the words
of St. John, "convicted by their own conscience1,"
I lay no stress, because the genuineness of the text
is disputed. Conscience is declared to exist prior
to a positive revelation, for it supplies the ground
of the Divine sentence pronounced upon the hea
then : " These, having not the law, are a law unto
b Acts xiii. 1 ; i Pet. iii. 16-22 ; 1 Tim. v. 19.
c Heb. xiii. 18. d 1 Tim. iii. 9 ; 2 Tim. i. 3.
e Acts xxiv. 16. f Heb. x. 22.
e Tit. i. 15 ; i Cor. viii. 7. h 1 Tim. iv. 2.
1 John viii. 9.

VII] Teaching of Scripture. 243
themselves : which show the work of the law
written in their hearts." Its verdicts are asso
ciated with the action of the judgment. " Their
conscience bearing witness and their thoughts
(\oyia-/j.wv) accusing or excusing one another." Again,
in the Epistle to Titus : " Even their mind (6 vovg)
and their conscience is defiled." Lastly, the apo
stolic language implies that conscience may need cor
rection and education, for St. Paul refers repeatedly
to the weak conscience of the Corinthian Chris
tians, and to the duty of not offending it : " When
ye wound their weak conscience " (curOevovtrav) — a
conscience out of health and needing the physician —
" ye sin against ChristV The same idea occurs in
St. Paul's language to Timothy, where he describes
the false teachers as " doting (yoa-wv) about questions
and strifes of words1."
It is remarkable that the latest conclusions of
Christian phUosophy, although reached by an in
dependent process, and expressing the result of
the accumulated thought of ages, are in exact
harmony with the Scriptural teaching. On the
one side they affirm the existence of a faculty
of conscience, and its supremacy in the tribunal
of the soul, and yet, on the other side, they deny
that it is either independent or infaUible. It is
a constituent part of the human soul, but like
all other parts, exhibits the weakness of a de
pendent and corrupted creature. The estimate of
human nature, gathered from a study of our moral
k i Cor. viii. 2. ' 1 Tim. vi. 4.
R 2

244 Conscience, and its relation to the Faith. [Lect.
constitution, is identical with the conclusion already
reached in the course of these lectures from an
examination of the emotional, intuitional, and in
teUectual parts of man. Dependence is stamped
upon every portion of our being. Man needs an
external help ; and in every sphere alike that
help is supphed in "the faith once delivered to
the saints."
In resting on this conviction we foUow a middle
path with enemies on either side. The position
held by free thought in relation to this question
of the conscience is in no smaU degree remark
able. Bationalism attacks us from two opposite
quarters, representing two different and totaUy irre-
concUable views, and on both sides with equal
vehemence and apparent absence of any conscious
ness of the inconsistency. At no distant period a
critical Eeview has held " conscientious people " up
to contempt, on account of the "vast amount of
mischief done by them in the world." A serious
accusation is advanced against theological writers
of regarding conscience as "an unwritten Bible, a
divinely-appointed guide, implanted by Providence
in the heart of each individual to tell him what
is right and what is wrong." Every man is de
clared to be able to make his own conscience, in
language far too frivolous for possible quotation in
this place [2]. On the other side, modern thought
steps at a stride across the temperate conclusions of
Christian philosophy, and asserts the aU-sufficient,
autocratic power of conscience, with an extravagant

VII] Inconsistencies of Rationalism. 245/
exaggeration peculiar to itself. It declares it to be
the triumph of rationalism that " men have come in
stinctively and almost unconsciously to judge all doc
trines by their intuitive sense of right, and to reject,
or explain away, or throw into the background
those that wiU not bear the test, no matter how
imposing may be the authority that authenticates
them." Thus conscience becomes more than a veri
fying faculty. It is throned supreme over the
entire soul, as a despotic governor ; in the language
of the rationalist himself, the " measure and arbiter
of faith " [3].
The two views are mutually destructive. If a
controversial advantage were all that the cause of
truth demanded, it might be enough to set the
one extreme against the other. The retort would
be perfectly fair. If we are taunted with making
too much of conscience, we might appeal to the
authority of rationalism itself ; for in asserting the
conscience to be the "arbiter of truth" it exag
gerates its claims far beyond the highest estimate
of the Christian. If conscience be competent to
rule even in the sphere of the intellect, a for
tiori it must be competent to rule in its own
proper sphere, the sphere of moral action. Or if
we are charged with making too little of con
science, and not accepting it as a final authority
supreme over faith itself, we might appeal to free
thought at its opposite extreme ; for in making
conscience no more than the conscious and volun
tary product of a man's own effort it lowers it far

246 Conscience, and its relation to the Faith. [Lect.
below either Scripture or right reason. The Chris
tian theologian might be content to leave the two
theories to fight it out between themselves, whUe
the truth, untouched by the conflict, calmly marched
on her way. Certainly the two arguments cannot
consistently be maintained by the same hands. It
is impossible to plead the verifying powers of con
science, and at the same time to deny the existence
of such a faculty. The contradictions of free thought
cannot go so far as to give supreme authority to
a name, and worship before a throne empty of any
monarch to fill it. It would be suicidal to argue that
conscience is the great spring of aU religious truth,
and at the same time to argue that it is but the pro
duct of a thousand casual influences — the residuum
left in the' mind from the ever flowing and ebbing
tides of human sympathy and association.
But the cause of truth is too sacred to be rested
on any such retort ; the claims of the faith too
solemn and absolute to admit of the slightest act
of treacherous compromise. We may use the
acknowledgments of our opponents so far, but so
far only as this : that a faculty, of which the
very existence admits of being caUed into ques
tion, can never possess the absolute and supreme
authority needed for the judge and arbiter of truth.
With this side of the alternative alone my argu
ment is called to deal. If conscience be a thing
too fluctuating and uncertain to supply a fixed rule
for moral conduct, it certainly can never become
the rival of the dogmatic faith, and with this

VII] The Rationalistic Argument. 247
conclusion the argument against conscience may
be dismissed. But its positive claims are more
formidable, for if they could be maintained they
would destroy the entire fabric of the faith. We
must examine them more closely.
The objector argues that his conscience is the
individual judge of what is right and wrong. As
the foundations of rectitude are changeless and
eternal, what is right and wrong to him must be
absolutely right and wrong in regard to all other
beings, and therefore in regard to God. Any de
scription of God which represents Him as violating
this verdict of the moral judge cannot be true,
since God is a perfect and absolute being, and
to charge Him with moral imperfection would be
a contradiction. Any such system of behef is
therefore to be indignantly rejected. The Chris
tian faith, the objector proceeds to say, contains
dogmas of this kind. For instance, it speaks of
the punitive anger of God, and of His consign
ing countless numbers of His creatures to endless
damnation. It asserts that there will be an ever
lasting condition of future woe, from which all
hope of mitigation and all prospect of cessation
are absolutely excluded. It teaches a doctrine of
atonement by the imputation to one person of
the guilt incurred by others. " Such teaching
offends my sense of right and wrong, and com
pels me to ascribe to a perfect and holy Being
feelings and acts contradictory to the verdict of
conscience in myself. I cannot believe such doctrines,

248 Conscience, and its relation to the Faith. [Lect.
and therefore I reject the revelation professing to
contain them."
I have stated the argument of the objector in
this form because it is the form actually taken by
the objection in a great majority of cases. I pro
test in the name of conscience itself against the
gross injustice of such distorted representations of
Christian doctrines. Such caricatures every mem
ber of the Church of England and every inheritor
of her teaching must indignantly repudiate. Whether
they result from carelessness, or from prejudice, or
from ignorance, or from the distorting influence of
active hostility, it is not for me to judge ; but two
mistakes involved hi the false representation lie
upon the surface.
Part of the doctrine is stated, and part omitted,
and the description is false because it is partial,
suppressio veri suggestio falsi. For instance, when
the objector speaks of God's consigning countless
numbers of His creatures to eternal damnation, he
omits to state that He has at the same time offered
free salvation to all men, and that if they perish,
it is only because they reject a mode of safety pro
vided for them by God, at a sacrifice no less than
that of His own Son, and pressed upon their hearts
and consciences with a tenderness of appeal and a
force of love sublime beyond the appeals and love
of man. Again, when the objector says that the
doctrine of the atonement involves the imputation
to one person of the guilt incurred by others, he
omits to add that this Person has of His own free

VII] The Rationalistic Argument. 249
will assumed the guilt, and that, moreover, this
voluntary Eepresentative is one in substance, power,
and eternity with the Being who pronounces the
judgment, being Himself God blessed for evermore.
The second mistake is of a kindred character. It
consists in applying to the character of God the
standard of human imperfection and corruption. It
assumes as a literal fact those anthropomorphic
illustrations under which alone the nature and cha
racter of the Supreme Being can possibly be known
to us. If on the one side Scripture describes God
under figures taken from human experience, it
emphaticaUy warns us on the other hand that God
is as far removed from man as the heavens are
higher than the earth, and that the disturbances
and selfishnesses, the weaknesses and irritabUities of
human weakness have no place with Him. Thus
when Scripture speaks of the punitive wrath of
God, it reminds us at the same time that the
spiritual Deity has neither body, parts, nor pas
sions. To impute to God, for instance, the heat,
violence, and disturbance inherent in human anger,
is not only to shock all our deepest feelings of
reverence, but it is also grossly and coarsely to
misrepresent the doctrine it professes to describe.
It is to bear false witness against "the faith once
delivered to the saints."
It is impossible not to regard such controversial
perversions of the truth with deep indignation.
They are unworthy weapons at best, and never
so unworthy as when they outrage conscience in

250 Conscience, and its relation to the Faith. [Lect.
the name of conscience. The temptation to ac
quiesce in them is great. Only by their use is
it possible to transfer the proper authority of con
science in the sphere of the moral into an inva
sion upon the sphere of the intellectual. But
this controversial advantage supplies a further rea
son why a high-minded searcher after truth should
disdain to use them, because they pervert the very
conditions of the question. The Christian theolo
gian emphaticaUy protests against them in the
name of truth and of conscience as a libel against
the Church of Christ.
The claim thus asserted on behalf of the con
science to be the judge and arbiter of truth is irre
concilable with the claims of the dogmatic faith,
not alone from the uncertainty of the verdict, but
from the nature and the extent of the authority
claimed for the judge.
As regards the verdict of the conscience, the Church
may weU hold her own. It is indeed assumed that
a common conscience exists, and that its decision
is unanimous against the doctrines of Scripture. In
this case the argument would overthrow the faith
by rejecting particular dogmas, and dislocating by
the rejection the entire system of revealed truth into
broken and inconsistent members. But the assump
tion cannot be admitted for a moment, and is plainly
contrary to the facts. The conscience of mankind
is not unanimous in its judgment upon the doc
trines of Christianity. The conscience of those who
accept the dogmas of revelation has at least as

VII] The Rationalistic Argument. 251
much right to be heard in this matter as the con
science of those who reject them, if it has not a far
better right in proportion to its better acquaintance
and famiharity with them. What the rationalist
considers to be inconsistent with a perfect and holy
Being, other men, not less competent from education
and earnestness of character to judge than himself,
consider to be the most admirable illustration of His
attributes. Not only do men educated under Chris
tian intructions regard the doctrines of the Divine
justice, His punitive wrath against sin, and the
atonement provided in the death of Christ, with
adoring praise, but the same feehng is experienced
by persons who have passed through no such edu
cational process and who hear the doctrines for
the first time. We may extend the range of tes
timony stiU further ; for the conscience of heathen
nations is so far from rejecting these ideas that
they enter prominently into heathen belief and the
elements of natural religion, as is seen in the
institution of priesthood and sacrifice. The as
sumption that the common decision of the human
conscience is against the distinctive doctrines of
Christianity is contradicted by the fact. Could
mankind be poUed within the circle of Christen
dom the faith would claim in its favour the deci
sion of a vast and overwhelming majority.
This consideration is not to be overlooked, for
were the result otherwise it would indisputably
supply a serious argument against the faith. But
we cannot rest with this appeal. We must caU

252 Conscience, and its relation to the Faith. [Lect.
into question the competency of the court to fulfil
so great an office as the supreme judge of truth.
If the conscience of every living man came to the
same decision, and the decision were in favour of
Christian dogma, that unanimity would furnish
no safe foundation for the faith. In fact, the
existence of an universal conscience is but a
fiction. Scarcely can a single point of morals be
specified on which the moral sense of mankind
has not differed at some time, and among some
people. But this very variability of conscience
only makes the claim of its supremacy the more
destructive to the faith. The verdict is so inde
finitely variable that one man's truth becomes
another man's falsehood. So long as the just
authority of the dogmatic faith is retained, and
conscience is limited to its proper function as a
regulative faculty, no difficulty arises. For the
rejection of particular truths becomes, in entire
consistency with the teaching of the faith itself,
the sin of individual unbelief. But let con
science be acknowledged to be the supreme veri
fying faculty, and positive, still less authoritative,
truth can no longer exist. Behef becomes no more
than the subjective act of the individual, without
any objective reality to answer to it. The hand
of the soul is stretched out, but grasps a shadow,
not a substance. If men's judgments are to be
accepted as the absolute test of truth, aU par
ticular beliefs must be equaUy true or equaUy
false.

VII] Nature of Conscience. 253
The principle involved in the claim of conscience
to be the judge and arbiter of truth is therefore
important in the highest degree. What a man
does is necessarUy moulded on what he believes. To
sit at the very threshold of the soul and regulate
at will its incomings and outgoings, is the
loftiest of all conceivable functions. Not a spark
of light can enter till it has, so to speak, done
homage to this supreme faculty, and has been
authenticated by its signature. Such a power
rules, by virtue of its office, monarch and lord
of all. It becomes a confessed Deity. The cre
dentials of so dominant a faculty may fairly be
expected to correspond with the loftiness of its
claims. Before we submit to its absolute despotism
we must be satisfied of the grounds of its autho
rity and the sufficiency of its power. We have a
right to ascertain its exact place in our constitu
tion, and the proper sphere of its action. What
is conscience ; what are its authority and attri
butes, that religion should bow down before its
footstool, and faith herself do it homage ? The
answer can only be given by reviewing the course
of human thought as it has dealt, from age to
age, with the problems of moral science. The re
sult will vindicate the legitimate claim of conscience
to rule supreme within the soul, but wUl dissipate
to the winds the extravagant assumptions of its
autocratic independence and infallibility.
In rapidly sketching the history of moral science
one general rule alone can be constantly adopted for

254 Conscience, and its relation to the Faith. [Lect.
my guidance. It is that where the moral distinc
tion of right and wrong has been denied, the existence
of conscience has necessarUy been denied ; where the
distinction has been maintained, there conscience has
been recognised. Exceptions may be found even to
this rule. Bather, perhaps, I ought to say, that
men have been often inconsistent with themselves.
Thus, for instance, Hobbes, the first great impugner
in modern times of the faculty of the conscience,
admits in some parts of his writings the moral
faculty which he resolutely denies in others. His
disciple, Paley, is guilty of the same inconsis
tency; for in his Sermons he speaks of the con
science, whUe in his Moral PhUosophy he denies its
existence [4]. But the distinction, although it re
quires some limitation, yet holds good in general.
But when, from the nature of the faculty of con
science, we pass on to discuss the grounds of recti
tude, we are stiU more devoid of any certain rule.
It would be totaUy unjust to suppose that the great
writers who refer the foundation of morals to utility,
or to the fitness of things, or to the absolute will
of God, intentionaUy impugn either the existence or
the authority of conscience.
Questions relative to the difference of right and
wrong, and to the practical rule of life, had their
place among the earhest exercises of human thought.
They are recognised, more or less, in all the records
of antiquity. In the immortal verses of Homer we
find the idea of an innate awe of the Deity, and
of the obligations of moral right. The ancient

VII] Nature of Conscience. 255
Greek tragedians contain the same thought. The
Furies were but the terrors of the conscience per
sonified. On the other side, Prometheus is supported
under the vengeance of Jove by the consciousness
of the benefits he had conferred among mankind.
Among the fragments of Menander has been handed
down the line, ftporois airacri arwelSrjcni 0eo'y. During
the prehistoric period of ancient philosophy the
famihar problems of moral science are dimly re
cognisable in the denial by Protagoras of any
eternal distinction of right and wrong. With
Socrates and Plato moral philosophy properly be
gan. Neither of them has left a definite theory
of conscience, although both of them recognised
it. They conceived of it, however, as intellec
tual more than moral — as in the Eight Beason of
Plato and the Prudence of Aristotle. Plato's doc
trine of ideas, and of the ideas of the supreme
good, supplied the germ of the immutable morahty
of later days. Aristotle distinctly asserts in his
Politics an inner and divinely-given sense of right
and wrong (6 fiavTevovrai n Travres), and refers to
the Antigone of Sophocles as acting upon a sense
of eternal right.
The discussion took a formal shape in the dis
putations of the Stoics and Epicureans, and they
still represent the two great divisions of opinion
existing in our own day. The Epicureans were the
first great advocates of the selfish principle of
morals. The Stoical scheme, on the other hand,
represented the idea of moral rectitude as peculiar

256 Conscience, and its relation to the Faith. [Lect.
and independent. They gave force to the idea
of duty— that notion of the "ought" which con
stitutes the proper material of the conscience.
From this time the nature and supremacy of con
science was recognised with ever-increasing definite
ness. Persius, Cicero, Plutarch, Marcus Antoninus,
Epictetus, and Seneca, aU refer to it. Cicero states
his belief in an innate faculty of conscience with
great distinctness : "Eatio summa insita in natura
quae jubet ea quae facienda sunt, prohibetque con-
traria." Seneca affirms its Divine origin, "animus
magnus et sacer inhaeret origini suas," and patheticaUy
laments the folly of the man who neglects it — " 0 te
miserum si contemnis hunc testem." The familiar
language of Horace wiU present itself to many memo
ries as he describes the real strength of man, —
" Nil conscire sibi, nulla pallescere culpa ; "
while the graphic description of a bad conscience in
Juvenal's thirteenth Satire wiU not be forgotten.
Thus the general sentiment of antiquity recognised
the reahty of conscience. But the faculty was not
analysed. No theory was framed of its constitution,
and the general course of thought pointed to an in
tellectual rather than to a strictly moral faculty.
The same want of a scientific examination of the
phenomena of conscience continued during the ages
intervening between the beginning of the Christian
era and the period of the Eeformation. The Chris
tian Fathers re-echoed the language of the inspired
Scriptures, treating conscience in the light of religion

VII] Nature of Conscience. 257
and not of philosophy. Fervent appeals to conscience
and eloquent descriptions of it are frequent, as for
instance, in a weU-known passage of Tertulhan and
in the glowing declamations of Chrysostom. It has
been thought by some that Augustine, from fear of
the Pelagian heresy, was timid of appealing to con
science, lest by so doing he should appear to admit
any sufficiency in human nature for the supply of its
own moral wants. With the Scholastics authority
became prominent everywhere, and beneath its in
fluence moral philosophy sank too frequently into
casuistry. Their inveterate habit of logical refine
ment led them to distinguish conscience into the
synteresis or , the internal law, and the syneidesis
or the internal accuser, and to dispute minutely
whether conscience was an act, a habit, or a
power. Abelard referred the fundamental principle
of morality to the immediate wiU of God, com
municated partly by Scripture and partly by con
science. Bernard caUs it " Candor lucis seternaa et
speculum sine macula." Peter Lombard carried its
claims so high as to hold conscience to be su
preme even where it contradicts the Word. From
Anselm to Grotius, for a period of five hundred
years, the same system prevailed. The province of
morality was not distinguished from religion, nor
were the mutual relations of the two adjusted.
At the Eeformation a new epoch of thought
begins. The arguments of objectors to the exist
ence of a conscience stimulated enquiry, and served
to clear away ambiguities and to settle what was
s

258 Conscience, and its relation to the Faith. [Lect.
before undetermined. The dates of these alternate
movements of attack and defence constitute the
historical epochs of the controversy, and mark its
order. The Eeformation itself was the rebound of con
science from the strain of human authority, and
rested for its justification on two co-equal prin
ciples — the supremacy of the individual conscience
over external authority, and the subordination of
conscience to the supreme authority of God in His
Word. The importance of the question awakened
intense earnestness in its discussion. The con
troversy consequently acquired a new character,
and passed from the solution of particular diffi
culties, " cases of conscience," into a philosophical
settlement of the nature and sphere of the faculty,
and the whole foundation of moral rectitude. The
first line of writers on the subject in this country
consisted of Perkins, Ames, HaU, Sanderson, and
Taylor. Their object was to estabhsh the autho
rity of conscience as the ground of aU morahty.
Their system was, however, incomplete, for the old
defect remained of not admitting the relation be
tween conscience and Scripture. Sanderson may
be taken as the ablest exponent of the school.
He defines conscience to be a faculty or habit of
the intellect, whereby the human mind, by a pro
cess of reasoning, applies its inborn light to the
discrimination of moral actions — " Conscientia est
facultas sive habitus inteUectus practice quo mens
hominis per discursum rationis applicat lumen quod

VII] Nature of Conscience. 259
sibi adest ad particulares suos actus morales."
He regarded conscience and Scripture as being
two related, but not necessarUy co-equal means
of making known the wiU of God : " Adaequata
conscientiae regula voluntas Dei quahtercunque
patefacta." This system of thought found an opponent in
Hobbes, who wrote about the middle of the seven
teenth century. His object was to sweep away the
entire distinction of right and wrong, and to refer
them solely to the enactment of external laws.
" The civil laws," he argued, " are the only rules of
good and evU, just and unjust, honest and dishonest.
Antecedently to these laws every action is in its
own nature indifferent. There is nothing good or
evil in itself, nor are there any common laws con
stituting what is naturally just and unjust. AU
things are to be measured by what every man
judges fit, where there is no civU government, and
by the laws of society where there is one." These
views, in their very coarseness, accord with the
philosophy of the man who held the materiahty of
the soul and the corporeity of God. The phUosophy
of Locke, by the rejection of aU innate ideas, coun
tenanced the tenet that right and wrong are modi
fications of bodily good and evil. The sensualist
school of morals eagerly claimed his support. The
school found its extravagant development in the
profligate licence of Mandeville. The poison sank
deep into the hterature and affected largely the
manners of the age. S 2

260 Conscience, and its relation to the Faith. [Lect.
Against these tendencies of thought arose a
chorus of protest. The Earl of Shaftesbury led
the way, and dropped the first suggestion of a
moral sense or instinct of conscience. Two other
noted apostles of infidel thought, Hume and Hart
ley, adopted the same view. It found a supporter
of sounder views in More. The theory was de
veloped by Hutcheson into the scheme of an im
planted principle, analogous in its action within
its own sphere to the action of the senses upon
material things. The sagacious Butler, scrupulously
cautious in determining the exact nature and con
stituents of conscience, asserted for the faculty its
proper place in the constitution of man, and its
claim for supremacy over the other faculties. Eeid
carried the question a step further by finding a
birthplace for conscience amid the fundamental
principles of the human soul, "the ethical side of
the general sense of truth, the communis sensus
which remained in man after the Fall."
Meanwhile another, but intimately allied course
of thought, was pursued upon the foundations of
rectitude, and the ultimate principles of right and
wrong. My argument is however less directly con
cerned with this side of the question than it is
with the authority of conscience on one side and
its limitations on the other. Whether we hold with
Hutcheson a determination of the mind to approve
the beauty of virtue and condemn the deformity of
vice ; or with Butler resolve conscience into a prin
ciple of reflection by which " we distinguish between

VII] Nature of Conscience. 261
and approve or disapprove our own actions ;" or with
Adam Smith believe our approbation or disappro
bation to be founded on the suitableness or unsuit-
ableness, the proportion or disproportion which the
affection bears to its object ; or with Brown refer the
facts to an emotional constitution of the human mind
by which a virtuous action awakens in us a feehng
of approbation towards its agent ; or maintain with
Ockham that good and evil draw their sole distinc
tion from the wUl of the Supreme Being ; or with
Cumberland consider that the utility of actions con
stitutes their rectitude ; or assert with WooUaston
that good and evil depend upon consistency or in
consistency with the truth of things ; or with Price
that the distinction arises from the essential nature
of God; — the existence of a conscience and the part
it plays as the regulative principle of human nature
remains to a great degree the same. On this dis
tinction between the faculty of conscience and the
foundations of rectitude later writers insist with
great earnestness.
A fresh reaction foUowed. Another line of writers
arose, attacking the doctrine of a moral sense as if it
conveyed the idea of a mechanical instinct and dero
gated from the dignity of human nature. They in
troduce the latest period of thought upon the subject
of the conscience. The line consists of Gay, Tucker,
Paley, and Bentham. The principal figure is Paley,
whose views will be familiar to members of Oxford
and Cambridge. " On the whole, it seems to me,"
are his words,- " either that there exist no such

262 Conscience, and its relation to the Faith. [Lect.
instincts as compose what is called the moral sense,
or that they are not now to be distinguished from
prejudices and habits." On the other side are
ranged the illustrious names of Mackintosh, Stewart,
WheweU, Chalmers, Whately, and others of whom
I make no mention, because they still hve to in
struct the Church by their labours. These writers
have brought the doctrine of conscience into its
present shape. Sir James Mackintosh may be held to
have laid down the clear outlines, and Dr. WheweU
to have most accurately filled them up. The con
science, in their view, is not one faculty, but the
aggregation of several. " By the culture of the
directing and controlling faculties we form habits,
according to which we turn our attention upon
ourselves, and approve or disapprove what we there
discern. These faculties thus cultivated are the
conscience." The compound faculty so formed is
not strictly innate, but acquired. It is acquired,
however, universally and necessarily by all men,
by virtue of the innate constitution of the soul.
" The testimony of conscience rests on a Divine
foundation woven in our natural condition, that is,
on a Divine law ordained in the created consti
tution of man." "All theories which treat con
science as built up by circumstances acting on all
human minds," are asserted by Mackintosh "to be
liable to misconception unless they place in the
strongest light the total destruction of the scaffold
ing which was necessary only to the erection of
the buUding, after the mind is adult and mature,

VII] Nature of Conscience. 263
and warn the hastiest reader that it then rests
on its own foundation." While the conscience is
supreme over the practical hfe it is itself a subor
dinate faculty, and not a master faculty. What
produces must be greater than its product, the
creator than what is created.
It follows from these conclusions that if conscience
be " in authority " from one point of view, it is " under
authority " from another. It is in authority inas
much as it is the supreme regulative power within
the soul ; it is under authority inasmuch as, hke
the soul over which it rules and of which it forms
a constitutional part, it is dependent, not autocratic.
If conscience in its actual form be the result of an
educational process, either conscious or unconscious,
it is so far from being an independent and self-
contained law, that it only reflects the external
influences that have given it shape and direction.
Conscience is never fuUy formed, but always in
course of formation. WheweU's words state the
result in its precise form : " Conscience is a subor
dinate and fallible rule." " Since conscience has only
subordinate and derivative authority, it cannot be
right for a man to refer to his own conscience as a
supreme ultimate ground of action."
Up to a certain point — the point reached in the
theory of a moral sense — the course of thought
abroad has foUowed very much the same course,
as far as concerns the philosophy of the question.
Leibnitz and Malbranche recognise the conscience
as an innate love and approbation of the right;

264 Conscience, and its relation to the Faith. [Lect.
Crusius considers it to be an inward instinct ;
Kant regards it as a moral faculty, innate and
independent; Fichte and De Wette follow him;
while Dehtsch defines it as the natural conscious
ness to man of the law within his heart. On the
other side Mosheim describes it as an act of the
understanding. But the general tendencies of Ger
many have generated another school of thought.
Kant stood on the same ground in this question
as the Hutchesonians among ourselves. But this
was but a stage in the enquiry among ourselves,
a standpoint from which later writers have ad
vanced to a closer analysis and a more accurate
survey of the constitution and office of conscience.
Among some German divines the tendency has
been to fall back on one of the mistakes of the
past, and confound the groundwork of morality
and religion together. The result is gained indeed
by a very different process. The Church-school was
in danger of absorbing morahty in rehgion : the
modern Germans would absorb religion in morality.
The one filtered conscience by authority : but the
other places aU authority, even that of the Scrip
tures themselves, beneath the feet of conscience.
The result follows naturally from what is called
the higher criticism of Germany and its general
course of thought. The definite doctrines of Chris
tianity have been resolved by these critical pro
cesses into philosophical ideas, and the sacred
Scriptures, with their grand teachings, torn into
fragmentary traditions. These processes being com-

VII] Nature of Conscience. 265
plete, religion itself must perish, as I have shown
in the course of these lectures, unless some other
teacher of truth can be discovered. Modern Ger
mans endeavour to find it in the conscience. Thus
Eeinhard considers conscience to be a disposition to
be led by the thought of Deity ; Harless caUs it
an inner revelation ; Eothe considers it to be an
infaUible subjective religious instinct ; Baader and
Schubert, as "privity of the soul with the omni
present omniscient God ;" Hoffman, as " an imme
diate self-evidencing of God in man ;" Marheinecke
apphes to the subject the pantheistic profanity of
Hegel, and says that the conscience is the pro
gress of the Absolute Being to self-consciousness in
man. Schenkel represents it as the source of all
our religious knowledge, the central organ of the
rehgious and moral activity, and asserts that the
doctrinal as well as the ethical function originates
in the same fundamental organ.
Philosophically considered, these later views are
a palpable retrogression in the course of human
thought, and not an advance into a higher stage.
For they confuse and absolutely identify the moral
and the religious spheres together, and thus vitiate
the whole process of enquiry. If we compare German
thought, as expressed by Schenkel, with the result of
thought in this country, as expressed by WheweU,
it is impossible not to be struck with the loose
ness and inaccuracy of the one compared with the
precision and philosophical comprehensiveness of the
other. That the leading minds among English

266 Conscience, and its relation to the Faith. [Lect.
rationalists recognise WheweU, and not Schenkel,
as the expositor of the latest and fuUest conclu
sions of human enquiry on the subject of conscience,
may be fairly gathered from the language of the
critical Eeview to which I have previously alluded :
" Conscience is nothing more than a coUective term
applied to the sum total of moral sensibilities we
possess, however they may have been acquired, and
on whatever foundation they may be based." With
this summing up of the history of the past I am
content to close [5].
The foregoing sketch throws into view two pecu
liarities in the history of this controversy. The
one consists in the number and variety of the ques
tions brought under dispute. Some of them cannot
be said to be definitely determined to the present
day. At least six problems require to be solved :
(1) Is there such a thing as conscience at all?
(2) What is its sphere ? — is it moral action, or is it
also religious truth ? (3) If there be a conscience,
is it one faculty or many ? (4) Is it innate or ac
quired, or both innate and acquired ? if acquired, is
it universally and necessarily acquired ? (5) In what
relation of authority does it stand towards human
action on one side, and towards the influences which
form it on the other ? (6) On what foundation does
the distinction of right and wrong rest V It would
not be difficult from the Christian point of view
to give definite answers to these questions. These
answers would, however, be based on the recognition
of the authority of Scripture as the highest exponent

VII] Results of the Enquiry. 267
of the Creator's wiU. But the present controversy
is with the impugners of the authority of Scripture.
Taking them into account it may confidently be
asserted that in the whole range of mental and
moral philosophy, there is no question, even at our
own day, so unsettled, and bristling with so many
disputes, as the constitution and functions of the.
conscience. The second characteristic is, that disputants on
this subject cannot be classified by their theological
predUections. Great variety of opinion is found
within the circle of behef on the one side, and the
circle of unbehef on the other.- If the indepen
dence and supremacy of conscience have generally
been maintained by divines, they have also been
maintained by free-thinkers, as the Earl of Shaftes
bury, Hartley, and Hume. If the eternal dis
tinctions of right and wrong have been denied
by thinkers hke Epicurus, Hobbes, and Bentham,
they have likewise been denied, although from a
totally different standpoint, by eminent theologians
such as Ockham, Cumberland, and Paley. No cir
cumstance can more fuUy illustrate the difficulties
of the controversy. Weapons of an analogous
character have been used to attack the faith, by
Shaftesbury, Hume, and Hartley; and to defend it,
by Hutcheson, Cudworth, and Clarke.
If, then, the last results of human enquiry into
the conscience have been such as I have described
them to be, on what ground can we allow to con
science an exaggerated supremacy over the whole

268 Conscience, and its relation to the Faith. [Lect.
incomings and outgoings of the human soul ? Su
premacy as a regulative faculty we admit ; but this
is very different from ascribing to it an absolute
and unlimited despotism ahke over all human evi
dence and all Divine authority. The rationalist
holds the verdict of the conscience to be supreme
over all doctrines, with whatever authority they
may be authenticated. A despotism so absolute,
an accuracy so infallible as even to supersede en
quiry, to discard evidence, and sit above all autho
rity, human and Divine, as the sole and self-sufficient
judge and arbiter of truth, is in strange contrast
with the surging sea of controversy amid which
conscience has its throne. Surely, when rationalism
would thus use conscience to shake the very throne
of truth, we are entitled to refer it to the conclusions
of its own enquiry, and to reply, in the language
of inspiration, " Out of thine own mouth will I
judge thee."
It is clear that the conclusions of modern phUo
sophy are totally inconsistent with the acceptance
of the conscience as the supreme verifying faculty
in man. Either a new theory of conscience must
be found, or its claims to be the standard of truth
must be given up. In at least three particulars
the rationalistic argument and the phUosophy are
at variance. If, according to the philosophy, the
conscience be a regulative moral faculty, it is
plainly incapable of originating a scheme of be
lief, or exercising, in the examination of evidence,
the proper functions of the intellect. Secondly, if

VII] The Sphere of Conscience. 269
it be an acquired and subordinate faculty, needing
to be educated from without, and actually moulded
by a thousand external influences, it can possess
neither autocratic independence of office, nor un
failing accuracy of perception to direct the judg
ment. It cannot claim to govern where it is itself
governed. Thirdly, if it be an individual and per
sonal judge, it can have no powers beyond the sphere
of the individual and the personal. Supreme within
the judicature of the soul itself, it is totaUy incom
petent to decide in that higher sphere of Divine
things, where it has neither knowledge to compre
hend the detaUs, nor capacity to grasp the whole.
I The claim transcends the proper sphere of
conscience, and needs powers which it cannot
pretend to possess. By the acknowledgment of
all, the function of conscience as a judge of truth
must be negative, not positive. No one claims
for it a suggestive and originating power over
the intellect. It has an impulsive power to prompt
the pursuit of the moraUy good and the avoidance
of the morally evil, but this is a totaUy different
thing from a power to affirm the truth of doc
trines, or to originate a scheme of rehgious behef.
Its sole conceivable power is a negative function.
Conscience can only repudiate the false, but has no
faculties for the discovery of the true. If there are
certainties capable of being known, there is in man,
according to this theory, no capabUity of knowing
them. But if this be admitted it becomes a ques
tion how far the power of discriminating the false

270 Conscience, and its relation to the Faith. [Lect.
can possibly exist apart from the power of dis
covering the true. AU our knowledge is a know
ledge of contrasts. We know evil and good, joy
and sorrow, virtue and vice, pleasure and pain,
by their contrasts with each other. We must
know the true and the false in the same way,
and test them by the same relation. The argu
ment is, that a certain statement relative to God
is false. But if we are too absolutely ignorant
to be able to say what God is, are we competent
to say what God is not ? If we are not able to
say what God would do, how can we pronounce
what He would not do ?
But however this may be, the adequacy of
conscience to the great function claimed for it, is
disproved by matters of familiar experience. It
would be a great claim to advance in behalf of
conscience, to say that it should be the test of
other men's actions. It is the rule for our own;
but it is too doubtful and capricious to be the
rule by which to measure other men. No one
man can put himself into another man's place ;
or without any further knowledge than what
may be derived from his own inner consciousness
decide upon the propriety of that man's plans for
life, or his conduct as a father towards his chil
dren, or as a , master towards his servants. Such
a claim would be esteemed simply monstrous.
Each man's conscience is the guide for himself;
but one man's conscience is not the guide for
another man's conscience, and therefore not for

VII] The Sphere of Conscience. 271
another man's acts. Certain outward actions we
can immediately pronounce to be wrong, whoever
does them. We do not hesitate to stigmatise with
disgrace the act of the murderer, or the liar, or
the thief. But the certainty with which we act
in such cases is derived from the sentence of the
law and the stigma affixed to them alike by the
code of human and Divine morality. But these
cases form a very small part of the complicated
questions lying for the decision of conscience. We
must quit the area of actions on which positive
law has pronounced its judgment, for actions not so
determined. The question is not whether, if each
man was in his neighbour's place, he would be able
at once to pronounce on the right and wrong
of his actions, but whether he is competent to do
so, being in his own place, and standing outside
the circle of those associations, facts, and circum
stances by which conscience is ever guided in her
decisions. Such a claim advanced on behalf of any man or
body of men over other men would be rejected
with contemptuous disdain as the very chmax of
fanatical presumption. But if it be not tolerable
in the relation of man to man, how can. it be
vindicated in the relation of man to God ? In
this case, leaving all revelation on one side, the
Being to be judged must be, by the very force
of the name we give to Him, alike different in
His nature, and immeasurably greater and higher
in His attributes than the person who judges

272 Conscience, and its relation to the Faith. [Lect.
Him. Nothing but an infallible accuracy of moral
perception, and an aU-embracing knowledge of out
ward facts, can justify the claim. WiU any man
assert for the human judgment either of these
qualifications ?
It must further be remembered that the ex
istence of God, and His government over the
world, constitute a totaUy different question from
the character of God ; and that with the latter
alone does conscience even profess to deal. Sup
pose it to be admitted — what cannot be admitted
for a sohtary moment — that the character of God
as depicted in the sacred Scriptures is harsh and
capricious, such, in short, as might excite the
terror, but never could conciliate the adoring
affection of an inteUigent being, — yet this character
would not affect the evidences of His existence.
The proof of this is mainly external. In what
we caU natural religion, it depends upon traces
of intelligent design amid the creation and the
government of the world; and in revealed reli
gion on the miracles attesting the promulgation
of His will, from the passage of the Bed Sea
and the sides of quivering Sinai down to the
resurrection of Christ, and "the signs and wonders
and divers miracles and gifts of the Holy Ghost"
attesting the authority of the apostles. To these
we add the wonderful structure of Scripture itself —
a collection of books of divers dates and author
ship, and yet bearing in their unity of design and
sublimity of subject, proofs of an intellectual mind,

VII] The Sphere of Conscience. 273
and a definite plan, as positive as any that are
discoverable in the material creation. No doubt
it is an appreciable gain and confirmation of this
argument, that this revelation contains a portraiture
of God calculable to awaken the subhmest thoughts
of Him, and the most adoring praise. But if this
last element of the case had been absent, its absence
would not in any degree have destroyed the inde
pendent evidence for the existence of an intelligent
Being, the author of creation and revelation, and
identified by broad analogies of principle in the
structure of them both.
These evidences appeal in no degree to con
science. It is possible to conceive a Deity simply
awful and tremendous. Conscience might decide
that such a Being could not receive its respect
and admiration. Shocking, as He would do, all
our instincts of right and wrong, affection would
become impossible; yet our dislike of His character
could not destroy His being : the moral sentiment
would have no power to annihUate Him. We
might say that we could not love, and wUl not obey
Him ; we might prefer to defy a power we could
not resist, and to suffer the extremest penalty rather
than voluntarily obey a Being whose attributes
excite our fear and dislike. We might say this ;
and language to this effect has been uttered by
the most prominent master of free thought in
our own country [6]. The very use of it intimates
his consciousness that evidence may conceivably
compel behef in God's existence when we cannot
T

274 Conscience, and its relation to the Faith. [Lect.
recognise His beauty. In other words, no supposed
verdict of the conscience can have the slightest
possible effect in invalidating the mass of con
sistent testimony proving the being of God and
authenticating His revelation.
I fully acknowledge that it would be a dreadful
thing to find ourselves in contact and relation
Avith a terrible Omnipotence whom we could neither
reverence nor love, and yet who breaks forth from
the unseen world upon the intellect and the heart
with an irresistible might of evidence. But sup
pose such was our condition ; would it not sug
gest a suspicion that perhaps we were wrong, not
He ? Would not the thought occur that some
prejudice or misconception must be blinding our
eyes, and that the moral defects were in ourselves ?
Should we not question whether there might not
be some human source of error distorting the
image of God, just as the earth-born mists distort
to our mortal eyes the sun as he shines in the midst
of the heavens, as sloping down into the winter
twilight he lifts his red orb just above the horizon,
lurid and awful as the glare of a conflagration.
The distinction thus drawn between our concep
tion of God's character and the evidences of His
being and will, finds ready illustration in actual
life. Thus, in ancient days, the God of Israel
appeared upon the mountain that burned with
fire, amid blackness, and darkness, and tempest,
and the sound of a trumpet, and the voice of
words, and such a dreadful show of majesty and

VII] The Sphere of Conscience. 275
power that Moses himself exceedingly feared and
quaked. The impression awakened was not love,
but fear, and an awful sense of His severity and
justice. " Why should we die ? for this great fire
will consume us : if we hear the voice of the
Lord our God any more, then we shall die." But
that awful terror did not weaken the visible evi
dences of His presence. There was Sinai, burning
like a furnace, and their eyes and ears caught the
tokens of His greatness. The visible evidence
deepened the moral sentiment of fear, but the sen
timent did not weaken the evidence.
The same thing may be observed among our
selves. Many men believe in God, yet regard
Him with fear and terror, and under the influence
of this feeling banish His name from their lips,
and the recollection of Him from their hearts.
But the feeling does not change the facts, however
much men may dislike them. The feeling itself
is perfectly explicable if we turn to the doctrines
of the faith. For God is presented as a Holy
God, and man as a fallen and guilty creature.
What wonder is it that a guUty being, alienated by
natural affection, and looking up to this Just Deity
as a criminal looks at a strict judge, should think
of Him with terror, and shrink from Him in pain
ful dislike ? If the dogmas of the character of
God and the guUty condition of man be true, the
feeling could not be otherwise. But suppose a
criminal should plead that the law under which
he is condemned shocks his feelings, and the very
T 2

276 Conscience, and its relation to the Faith. [Lect.
aspect of the judge contradicts his notions of the
fitness of things ; would the feeling change the tre
mendous circumstances of his position, as hanging on ¦
the judge's lips he hears the dreadful sentence con
signing him to a grave? Should the sinner plead
that the idea of a God of justice and an eternal
heU shocks his conscience and contradicts his feel
ing of right and wrong ; would not the answer be
that this is very natural under his circumstances,
but that it wUl neither change the facts nor reverse
the sentence ? So it is in the present case. Let the
verdict of the conscience within the man be what it
may, it can neither change the facts outside him
nor invalidate the evidence in proof of them. You
say that a God, such as He is described in the Bible,
shocks your sense of right and wrong, that is, your
sense of what God. must be. Be it so — the verdict
of your conscience is yours, not God's. It therefore
affects you, not God. It is not the slightest evidence
of any moral defect in God ; but it is strong evi
dence of some great moral defect in yourself.
II This conclusion is confirmed by the next step.
For it must be acknowledged that in famihar
things, the human conscience is not gifted with
faultless accuracy, stUl less with infallibility. It is
not accurate in its decision in familiar cases, where
the whole conditions of the case enter into personal
experience. It is not a certain guide for man ; and
how then can it be conceived to be a certain guide
for God ? If insufficient for the human sphere, it
must be far more insufficient for the DiAine.

VII] The Powers of Conscience. 277
This inaccuracy and this defect in conscience can
not be disputed by any school of opinion. They
meet us equaUy when we look to the past or to the
present. In the past, we see them in the acknow
ledged variations in the verdict of the conscience.
There is scarcely an act shocking to our convic
tions, which, at some other period of the world
and among some other men, has not been con
sidered aUowable, if not laudable. What our con
sciences, enlightened by Christian teaching, pronounce
to be vices, the consciences of other men have
pronounced to be virtues ; and what we esteem to
be virtues, they have considered to be vices. Acts
held by us in actual detestation, infanticide, for
instance, awakens no sense of moral guUt in the
Hindoo or the Chinese. HumUity and forgiveness
of injuries, prominent in our catalogue of graces,
were defects of character in the estimate of the
ancient heathen moralists. The taking of human
life, incest, and what has been caUed even among
ourselves the wild justice of revenge, have been,
and are still held to be natural, and even proofs
of manly vigour. This variation is no disproof
of the existence of a conscience, because some dis
tinction of right and wrong exists among all men.
Every race and period have had their code of con
science, however perverted. But they are positive
disproofs of the accuracy and infaUibility of the
conscience, therefore of its capability to be the
absolute judge of what is congruous or incon
gruous with God, and the absolute test of truth.

278 Conscience, and its relation to the Faith. [Lect.
The evidence is the same in the familiar sphere
of our own daily life. The inconsistencies of human
conduct are palpable, and are only thrown into
stronger contrast by the inteUect and powers of
the agents. There is a strange mixture of good
and evil, strength and weakness, in the best of
men. Not infrequently the greatest moral in
firmity is found to co-exist with the highest intel
lectual vigour. The familiar history of remarkable
men places this beyond question. The clearest
sense of moral right may be found side by side
with the strongest propension to moral wrong. It
must be evident that in these cases the general
gifts of the man do not detract from the guilt
of the wrongdoing, but very largely aggravate its
character and increase its responsibUity.
We are, therefore, reduced to two alternatives.
Either the conscience and the conduct are concur
rent, and then if the conduct is wrong the con
science must be wrong likewise : or they are not
concurrent, and then the sentence of the conscience
is but the idle decree of a powerless judge. If, in
this case, its decision be too faint and weak to
control character and conduct, how can so infirm
and impotent a faculty be thought worthy of the
dignity of being throned as the absolute monarch
of the sentient and feeling soul of man?
These plain facts of human experience must
be admitted by aU men, and there is no way of
escaping the conclusion without impugning the ac
curacy of our moral judgments. For if it be said

VII] The Powers of Conscience. 279
that there is no immutable morality, but that
everything is right that a man thinks to be right,
we only reduce conscience to yet greater futility
and extend the uncertainty from the faculty to
the material with which it deals. If there be no
immutable morahty, there can be no trustworthy
and infallible conscience. If there is an immutable
morality, the faculty of conscience is found incapabla
of discovering and verifying it. How then shaU it
become the verifying judge of a Divine revelation ?
Here again, when we turn to the doctrines of
the faith, the dogma explains the facts, and the
facts verify the dogma. The doctrine of the cor
ruption of human nature removes aU difficulty.
For why should it be supposed that conscience
has escaped the general corruption more than any
other part of the human constitution ? The moral
nature is the essential seat of sin, and the moral
faculty may be expected to show its effects more
than any other. The depravity is both in the
regulative power itself, and in the sphere it regu
lates ; both in the monarch and in the kingdom.
In the faculty itself the perception of right and
wrong has grown dim, inconstant, variable, un
certain. It has lost the energy and force of its
primeval constitution. It is placed amid the wUl
and the affections, the very strongholds of sin, the
very springs of its hfe. Eelatively to the other por
tions of our nature, conscience stiU retains its pre
dominance as the impulsive and regulative power ;
but, in common with the other portions, it shares the

280 Conscience, and its relation to the Faith. [Lect.
effects of the Fall, and thus may become the blind
leader of the bhnd. Before it can fulfil its proper
office it must be itself corrected and enlightened,
and this necessarUy from the outside. The wrong
measure can only be tested by comparison with
a right measure, and the correction can only be
supplied by the faith. So far, therefore, is con
science from being the judge of truth, that truth is
needed to rectify conscience.
That the Bible contains the highest and purest
morality known to man is the general conviction
of mankind, and the conviction is not weakened
by the murmured dissent of a few. In truth,
the moral code of our day has derived its ele
vation from the faith, although it ungratefully dis
owns the obhgation. When this highest of all
moral codes is brought into contact with the con
science, the moral faculty, so far from being
shocked at the dogmas of revealed truth, accepts
them with adoring reverence. The objection to
the morality of Christian dogma arises not from
those within the Church, and who know it best,
for they hve upon it, but from those without.
If it be replied that the conscience of the Chris
tian Church is blind and uninformed, this only
brings us back to the same point, and confirms
anew the fallibility and variability of conscience.
What security can therefore be gained by its de
cision ? Yet the entire plea for the verifying
faculty of conscience rests on this assumption,
that the human conscience is, if I may so word

VII] The Data of Conscience. 281
it without irreverence, the standard of the Divine
conscience. ' I should not think it right to act
in such a manner, and therefore it is not right
for God to act in it. I am so certain that I
am right, and that my right is the measure of
God's right, that I discard aU other evidence, and
fling away all other proof. Christian dogma makes
God different in His nature and actions from what
I think He ought to be, and therefore I unhesi
tatingly regret the dogma.' . The whole argument
hangs on the infaUibUity of the human conscience.
Give that up, and the whole superstructure falls.
Ill But there is another matter to be considered.
I said that the claim advanced on behalf of the
conscience required not only absolute accuracy in
the action of the faculty, but a perfect know
ledge of all the facts of the case submitted to it.
In the absence of this, it, must judge on partial
and imperfect data, and the conclusion will be as
partial, that is, as untrue, as the data. A judge
needs to be acquainted with aU the circumstances
of the case in their minute particulars, and in aU
their mutual bearings, or else the most consummate
abihty and the most perfect balance of judgment
wUl not preserve him from mistake. A decision
perfectly right on half the facts, may be perfectly
wrong upon the whole of them. If conscience
were infallible as God, its decisions would become
falhble if made upon a partial knowledge of the
facts. It is a matter of familiar experience that
some apparently minute circumstance may alter

282 Conscience, and its relation to the Faith. [Lect.
the character of an entire series of transactions.
Omitted facts make all the difference between a
cruel murder and a legal execution, a kindly' act
and a forgery, a deed of oppression and an act of
benevolence. Could we conceive a perfect stranger
admitted into a household and watching the con
duct of a parent towards his child in some particular
act without having any acquaintance with the cha
racter of the two, or the circumstances under which
they are acting, is it not very likely that he would
come to a totally wrong conclusion, and perhaps im
pute to the passion or prejudice of the father, what
springs out of the purest love and the most self-
denying consideration for his child's good ? The
commonest experience ratifies the maxim, that a
judge needs to know the entire facts of a case
before he can decide its moral character.
If this be true between man and man, on no
principle can it be supposed to be less true between
man and God. Conscience cannot pronounce with
out a perfect knowledge of all the facts of the case.
Such a knowledge it does not possess. Eeve
lation does not profess to be a transcript of the
Divine mind; nor is it possible that it should be.
The multifarious details of human history baffle the
possible grasp of mortal intellect. No history ever
written professes to be exhaustive, or to contain
more than a certain selection from the compli
cated events making up the sum-total of life.
The Bible professes to give such information re
lative to the past history of the world and the

VII] The Data of Conscience. 283
dealings of God towards man, as God sees to be
necessary for our good, including in that good the
discipline of faith, ahke in the acceptance of what is
revealed and in submission to what is withheld. In
every case enough is made known for practical action,
but for curiosity literally nothing. In every case,
either of revealed fact or revealed dogma, enough in
formation is communicated to guide faith, but not
enough to make captious objection impossible.
Just consider the nature of the case. Take, in the
first place, the sacred history, in which a diligent
ingenuity has laboured to find things contradic
tory to our moral sense, as, for instance, in the
much abused instance of the destruction of the
Canaanitish nations. I do not argue the case
here, for it has been done abundantly over and
over again. I only take it as an Ulustration of
a general principle. The whole facts of the case
are not known to us. Consider the immense
lapse of centuries included in the sacred narra
tive of the Old Testament ; consider the moral
purposes of the revelation, and the necessity of
giving prominence to the gradual development of
God's great remedial plan of salvation : then
suppose that the history of all this connected
series of transactions had been given in full ; —
what a prodigious history would it not have
made ! Who could ever have waded through it,
or what ordinary mind could have disentangled its
spiritual and eternal verities from the mass of
facts Avith which they must have been embedded

284 Conscience, and its relation to the. Faith. [Lect.
and overlaid? In such a case the whole structure
of the book must have been changed, and the office
which the Bible actuaUy fulfils to mankind would
have become impracticable. There is an immense
range for thought here. It is enough to repeat
that in no case are the whole facts known. In
no case, therefore, has conscience the materials for
a certain decision against the inspired narrative.
But the case is indefinitely stronger when we
pass from the revealed facts to the revealed dog
mas. Here we deal not with man, but with God ;
not with the relations of earth, but with the
infinitely complex relations of the government of
God over the world. Pause over them for a
moment, that we may realise the absolute im
possibility of the human intellect ever compassing
and measuring them aU. Think of God Him
self, so different from ourselves, that only through
human analogies is it possible to know aught
about Him ; think of the complicated and varied
interests involved in His government of this world
of ours — in the creation of man at the first, and
in the plan of salvation, as during the period of
four thousand years it ripened graduaUy towards
its accomplishment ; think of the lapse of time
covered by the counsels of God as they reached
backward and forward from the eternity before time
to the eternity after it. Then with these thoughts
contrast the blunders made by the highest human
wisdom in the comparatively simple interests of
a single nation, or even of a single man; and our

VII] The Data of Conscience. 285
absolute ignorance of the future and its contin
gencies — an ignorance, shared by the foresight of
the wisest politician to an extent far beyond what
we commonly realise. Then say what is the capa
city of the human mind to measure or unravel,
or even understand such a government.
Moreover, let it be remembered that even this
is not all. In order to understand God's deal
ings we must take into account not only His
relations towards man, but His relations likewise
towards all the other portions of His universe.
Such considerations must have their place. The
analogy of human things teaches us that the con
duct of any given person towards another must
depend in part upon the position in which he
stands, not to that person only, but towards others.
For instance, we speak familiarly of the necessity
of punishing crime in order to deter others from
committing it; and in certain cases when that
strange contagion of crime observable at periods
is at work in society, we rightly argue that it
is necessary, and just, and wise, and even bene
volent to increase the severity of punishment in
order to increase the emphasis of the warning.
In all such cases the conduct of the magistrate
towards the single criminal is justly modified by the
consideration of others who are not criminals nor
personally concerned in that immediate transaction.
So it must necessarily be with God. His con
duct towards .man, speaking after a human manner
and from liuman analogies, must be modified by

286 Conscience, and its relation to the Faith. [Lect.
His relation towards other beings, or at least de
termined with respect to them. We are judging
of a God who does not rule this world alone, but
ten thousand worlds, in an universe fuU of life
and inteUigence, and resonant with praise. Thus
in order to possess the data for judging God, we
should need to know the exact position of the
unfallen spirits, and in what way it is that they
are concerned in the hfe and death of Christ. Then
we need to know aU His relations towards the faUen
spirits who left their first estate, and are reserved
in everlasting chains under darkness unto the judg
ment of the great day. Lastly, we need to know
what other globes are inhabited ; what are the na
ture, position, and interests of the inhabitants, and
what their knowledge of the events passing upon
this world of ours. What an immense range of in
formation ! and yet without it the materials for a
judgment are palpably absent.
Now who would say that any human intellect
can discover these matters, or would be capable
of comprehending them, and grasping them at
once in their immense aggregate and all the rela
tions of their parts, even if they were revealed. No
human understanding is competent to say how
the Governor of such a universe ought to act or
ought not to act. The simple issue is here : What
human being would be capable of. administering
such a government for a single hour ? Suppose
the man possessed of infinite authority and un
limited strength, but just as he is, with his human

VII] The Data of Conscience. 287
faculties and no more, to exercise them. I believe
that the voidest dream that ever entered into a
madman's brain never compassed so huge an im
possibility as this would be.
Yet, if we do not know how such a world
ought to be governed in aU its parts, we do not
know how it ought to be governed in any one of
them. And if we do not know this, we have not
the facts of the case, and in this ignorance the
human conscience, even if it were itself accurate as
God, could not form a judgment.
The great Christian dogmas are all of them of
this character — that they include considerations ne
cessarily reaching, and positively declared to reach,
far beyond this our world. Such, for instance, is
the dogma of the punitive justice of God ; for
the measure meted by absolute truth to the whole
of the universe He governs must palpably be equal
to all. Such is the dogma of the atonement ; for
as there is but one only-begotten Son of God
revealed to exist, His incarnation, death, resur
rection, and session in glory, must reach far be
yond us. This is stated to be the case. Angels
ministered to Him. Among the denizens of the
New Jerusalem are specified an innumerable com
pany of angels and the general Church of the
first-born. We are told that into the mysteries
of the work of Christ archangels desire to look, and
that principalities and powers in heavenly places
learn from the Church the manifold wisdom of
God. Such is the dogma of a future place of

288 Conscience, and its relation to the Faith. [Lect.
eternal punishment ; for we are expressly told that
it was prepared for the devil and his angels. To
bring such dogmas to the bar of the human con
science, and pronounce upon their right and wrong
in the face of the undeniable inconsistencies, mis
takes, and crimes of familiar life, appears to me to
be an act worthy of the audacity of an angel, and
as clearly condemned by the voice of all human ex
perience as by the language of the inspired Word.
Thus we are enabled to place the conscience
and the dogmatic faith side by side, and to ad
just their relations to each other. The comparison
is not between the claims of revealed Christianity
on one side, and the verdict of an universal
human conscience on the other. There is no such
universal conscience, and the conception of it is
but a dream. The contrast only lies, therefore,
between the authority of the individual conscience
and the claims of revelation. The personal opinion
of single men relative to what is right and
wrong is pitted against the grand doctrines of
the faith, authenticated as they are by a mass
of irresistible evidence, as by the signature of
God Himself, and ratified by the adoring ac
ceptance of the great majority of mankind. That
there is any real conflict between faith and con
science the Church most emphatically denies, and
has the best right to deny, unless it can be sup
posed that her faith during all ages has been
only an enormous hypocrisy. The conflict is be
tween the conscience of a small minority of man-

VII] The Conscience under Authority. 289
kind and the faith once delivered to the saints.
Which of them shall obey ; which be supreme ?
The fact that the consciences of men are not
unanimous on the. subject of Christian doctrines
suffices to give the answer. The dogmas declared
by some to shock their moral sense, are regarded
by others with adoring praise and admiration.
The truth is that conscience, in either case, re
flects the influences by which it has been edu
cated. In the one case, it takes counsel of the
pride of reason, and of the natural distaste for
Divine things, inseparable from a fallen and cor
rupted nature ; in the other case, it is moulded
by the Spirit of God, acting through the revela
tion of His will. That there are in human nature
certain ultimate moral principles, distinguishing
between right and wrong, and lying at the foun
dation of all moral judgments, we may well be
heve. But the Fall has weakened and darkened
them, and they shine as no clear beacon, but as
a dim and ambiguous light. The hand of the Spirit
of God must trim the lamp, and His breath fan
the flame. The authority of conscience is deriva
tive; and from what fountain shall it be drawn but
from the everlasting springs of the Divine truth ?
Then alone is the candle of the Lord within man
competent to fulfil its great function, when it is
set beneath the footstool of God, and derives from
Him, the inexhaustible Source of light, wisdom to
see and force to govern.

u

LECTURE VIII
THE OBLIGATIONS OF BELIEF
I COR. XVI. 13
Watch ye, stand fast in the faith, quit you like men,
be strong.
1HE associations of war and battle breathe in
every word of this exhortation. It touches the
heart as the spirit-stirring address of a trusted
leader touches the hearts of his comrades at some
great emergency of the conflict. As the foe
gathers in the distance, half hidden behind the
brow of the hiU or beneath the shadow of the
forest, and it remains doubtful for the moment
at what quarter the storm wiU break, his warn
ing voice caUs to vigUance, " Watch ye." As the
tide of war rolls its threatening masses onwards,
and the advancing column of the enemy, grim
and ominous as a thunder-cloud, threatens to over
whelm the slender line of defenders, the leader's
clear voice is heard in the momentary hush of sus
pense, exhorting them to steadiness and constancy —

The Confiict of Faith. 291
" Stand fast." As the opposing lines break in the
shock of battle confusedly, hke the meeting of two
angry tides, and warrior contends hand to hand with
warrior, the famUiar voice stUl sounds amid the
tumult, " Quit you like men." As beneath the fury
of the assault the line of the patriot host shakes
and wavers, and the crisis calls for a courage pre
pared to die, but never to yield, I picture to
myself the figure of the dauntless leader as he
lifts his banner aloft and shouts, " Be strong." So
graphic is the language that it suggests the scene
— a vivid mind-painting of the actual reality, as the
battle of the warrior with confused noise, and gar
ments roUed in blood, surges to and fro in the issues
of the doubtful conflict.
Some such scenes must have been present to the
mind of St. Paul when he wrote these words. Yet
there was nothing whatever in his position and
local circumstances at the time to suggest the iUus-
tration. At other times when he employed language
of the same character, the associations of the mo
ment naturaUy furnished the imagery. Thus when
he exhorted the Ephesians to put on the whole
armour of God, the girdle of truth, and the breast
plate of righteousness, and the sandals of peace, and
the shield of faith, and the helmet of salvation, and
to take the sword of the Spirit, he wrote the words
in the barrack of the praetorian guards at Eome.
The clash of military accoutrements, the sound of
arms, the trumpet-caU, the pomp of the parade,
surrounded him on every side. It was probably from
V 2

292 The Obligations of Belief. [Lect.
the same spot, and in the sight of the rugged war-
beaten soldiers who guarded him during his second
imprisonment, that he exhorted Timothy : " Thou,
therefore, endure hardness as a good soldier of
Jesus Christ." But his Epistles to the Corinthians
were written from Ephesus, and a totally different
class of associations surrounded him at this half-
Greek, half-Oriental metropolis of Asia. The sea
port crowded with the trade of the Mediterranean,
the inhabitants thronging with song and jest into
the amphitheatre, or gathering in the temple, where
Diana of the Ephesians was worshipped with semi-
barbaric grandeur and the rites of a dark super
stition, were the prominent objects here. Neither
local association nor historical record can have
helped to suggest to the apostle's mind the ideas
of war. If, therefore, in writing from this spot
he employs military Ulustrations, it can only have
been from their peculiar fitness to express his
meaning ; because they convey the realities of the
Christian calling with a graphic vividness and force
nothing else could have supphed.
The structure of the verse, when closely examined,
furnishes the interpretation of its language. For
it involves two ideas — the moral qualities exer
cised in the contest, and the object for which the
contest is maintained. Men do not fight for no
thing. It is not possible to exercise heroic virtues
for the sake of exercising them. All moral actions
are means directed to an end ; they require a
definite and intelligible purpose, and derive from

VIII] Faith as an Object. 293
the worthiness of this purpose alike their existence
and their dignity. To be watchful for the mere
sake of exercising watchfulness, and with no object
to preserve ; to stand fast without any adequate
reason for standing fast, or any definite position
on which to stand ; to caU out the manly virtues
of constancy and courage without any occasion for
their exercise ; to tax strength in order to beat the
air, would be to make human nature contemptible,
and to destroy the very grounds of virtue and
vice. The subjective quahties of vigilance, and forti
tude, and manliness, and energy, require occasion,
and the occasion must be supphed by an objective
something lying beyond and outside of the quali
ties themselves.
No ingenious manipulation of the words can
get rid of this necessity for an object, because
it is seated in the constitution of man, and is
inseparable from his created dependence. Their
meaning cannot be satisfied in the maintenance
of given states of mind; for there must be reasons
for maintaining them. If we say that the ex
hortation is directed to the cultivation of the
rehgious affections, we only reach the same con
clusion in another way. The dogma, as the root
of affection, underlies the moral soil everywhere,
and crops up into view. We are to watch, lest
through spiritual carelessness we are led away
from God ; to stand fast, lest violent temptation
should hurry us into sin ; to be steadfast, lest
we weary under temptation ; and strong, alike to

294 The Obligations of Belief . [Lect.
do and to bear, lest out of mere infirmity and
weariness we leave our life-work undone. But if
there be danger of our being led away from God,
there must be a God from whom to be led away.
If there be a danger of our being hurried into
sin, there must be a law to be infringed. If
there be a danger of our growing weary under
temptation, there must be something which we
ought to do, and something which we ought not
to do, and an obligation to pursue the one and
to avoid the other. If there be danger of our
leaving our work undone, there must be a task
to be accomplished, and a reason for accomplish
ing it. Watchfulness without a cause would
become unsettled restlessness, fortitude an irra
tional obstinacy, manliness would degenerate into
rugged discourtesy, and strength of energy into
a display of force, meaningless and therefore con
temptible. Some positive truths and fixed principles un
derlie aU moral action. But what is positive and
fixed is dogmatic. Men are not distinguisehd
from each other by the fact that some of them
act on dogmatic truths and others do not. They
are only distinguished by the nature of the truths
they accept, and the reasons for accepting them.
A ttou cttw is needed by all alike ; the question is
where we shall find it. Some men rest the basis
of their positive principles on themselves, and be
come their own law. Other men dig deeper, and
finding that the firmest human principles rest on

VIII] Faith as a Quality. 295
nothing stronger than the quicksand, derive then-
positive principles from revelation, and accept their
law from God. Men deceive themselves when they
profess to reject dogma. They only substitute a
human for a Divine foundation for it.
Thus, in the present text, the quality of faith is
involved in the virtues called into exercise. In a
Christian point of view, faith is the root of aU
virtues ; for faith is the hand by which we lay
hold of God; and like the God on whom we lay
hold, its attributes vary with its relations. We
call God wise, and holy, and just, and good, and
mighty, just as the occasion caUs into display
one attribute of His indivisible being or another.
So faith becomes impersonated in one grace or
another, according to the occasions calling for its
exercise. In the presence of fraud it becomes
vigUance, in the presence of danger fortitude ;
beneath the pressure of difficulty it is manliness,
and in prolonged trial strength and energy. But
the life of the grace is the same in every case.
Faith is the vital principle ; and the whole spiritual
life ebbs and flows with its alternations. It is
faith that overcometh the world. AU things are
possible to faith, because all things are possible
with God. " If ye have faith as a grain of mustard
seed, ye shaU say unto this mountain, Bemove hence
to yonder place ; and it shall remove ; and nothing
shah be impossible unto you a."
This is the quality of faith. But belief cannot
a Matt. xvii. 20.

296 The Obligations of Belief . [Lect.
exist without something that is believed. This is
the object of faith. Faith is not exercised for the
sake of itself, but for the sake of what it makes
known to us. When this object consists of the truths
of revelation, the'se too are caUed " the faith,"
because they rest on the authority of God, and
deal with verities lying beyond the sphere of
sight. The faith believing and the faith beheved
are correlative ideas, and never can be far separated
from each other. Without the objective reality the
subjective quality would be impossible. The two
ideas lie embedded together in the language of the
text, and neither of them can survive without the
other. The quality is constitutionally adapted to
the object as the eye is adapted to hght, the ear
to sound, or the wings of an eagle to the atmosphere
through which it soars towards the sun. Faith in
both its aspects is secondary, not primary. Bevealed
truths are not the central orb of religion ; they
are but its atmosphere, necessary but instrumental.
They reflect the sun's rays, but do not produce them.
The primal fountain is in Christ. His own grand
words describe His own grand mission : " I am the
hght of the world."
To vindicate the reality and claims of the faith,
and to show that it is essentiaUy and necessarily
dogmatic, has been the object of these lectures.
A brief recapitulation of the argument will show
what point I have reached, and enable me to
place into immediate contact the object of faith
and the quality of faith. From the height of

VIII] Recapitulation. 297
the truth alone can we adequately appreciate the
obligations and the nobility of the duty.
The facts of the case stand thus. The Scrip
tures assert themselves to contain a revelation from
God, communicating such a knowledge of the
past, such an explanation of the present, and
such promises and directions relative to the future,
as are necessary to make us wise unto salvation.
The truths contained in this revelation constitute
a connected and organised whole, and are described
as " the faith." They claim to have a Divine
authority by virtue of their Author. Inasmuch
as God has given no subsequent revelation, and
has declared that He will give none, they admit
neither of addition nor of diminution. They are
entrusted to the keeping of the Church, and as
a result of this trusteeship, are formulated for
the purposes of instruction and convenience into
Church creeds. This system of faith is necessarily
dogmatic because it is authoritative. It does not
propound theories for discussion, but offers to man
kind terms of salvation for acceptance. Whatever
is dogmatic claims to be authoritative. In the
full sense of the word there can be no dogma be
yond the circle of Divine revelation. But dogma,
the expression of Divine authority, is as widely
separated from dogmatism, the expression of human
arrogance, as the supi'emacy and omniscience of God
are separated from the dependency and fallibility of
man. This is the claim of the Scriptures. It involves

298 The Obligations of Belief . [Lect.
three conditions, aU affirmed in the sacred writings,
and making up in their combination what I have
ventured to call the theory of dogma. It includes
the existence of an organised Church, taking its
origin from the date of the Christian era, and
extending uninterruptedly "unto the end of the
world." Synchronising with the Church in its
origin and duration is a body of definite doctrines
regarding God and man and their mutual rela
tions, like the Divine Master around whose Per
son they are grouped, the same yesterday, to-day,
and for ever. In addition to the Church and the
faith, the trusteeship and the trust, the theory
includes likewise the trust-deeds in a collection
of authoritative and inspired documents, consti
tuting at once the credentials of the Church and
the standard of the faith. If the claim of the
Scriptures be true, these three conditions of the
theory must have had an historical realisation, and
must admit of being proved by ordinary histo
rical evidence. In every branch of this question
the evidence is equally copious and conclusive.
The Church of Christ does exist, and has ex
isted beyond dispute from the time of Christ to
the present moment. Its course may be traced
clearly as the current of some great river back
wards to the century elapsing between the years
of Eome 750 and 850. Whatever different accounts
may be given of its origin, no one professes to trace
it further into the past, nor calls into question its
continuity into the present. During this period

VIII] Recapitulation. 299
of weU-nigh two thousand years the unanimous
testimony of all the Church writers affirms the
dogmatic character of her faith as a message given
to her by God in order that she may communi
cate it to the world. Enormous changes have
been accomplished during the period of her own
existence, and the inexhaustible activity of her
own mental and religious life has stimulated con
troversy within her own pale ; yet never has she
faltered, never hesitated on the Divine character
of her commission and the grand responsibilities
of her trusteeship. The heroic history of her
labours, sufferings, and triumphs is but the natural
outgrowth of her Divine institution, Divine com
mission, and Divine strength, — God her founder,
the Word of God her message, and the Spirit of
God her strength.
This testimony of the Church is corroborated
by the identity of the faith. The Divine deposit
is at hand and can be identified. If we take
the Nicene Creed as the embodiment of the
Church's doctrine, we are carried back at a step
towards the third century of the Christian era.
When we take into account the history of the
Creed, the circumstances of its composition, the
controversies producing it, and the G3cumenical
Council by which it was promulgated, the evidence
is thrown from the beginning of the fourth cen
tury far backwards towards the first. A line of
independent witnesses carry the genealogy of the
doctrine into the circle of the apostolic days. The

300 The Obligations of Belief . [Lect.
dogmas of the Christian rehgion neither find their
birth-time in the sixteenth century, as some have
ventured to affirm, nor in the mediaeval ages, nor
yet in the time of Constantine, but in the personal
ministries of our blessed Lord and His immediate
apostles. Here the third condition closes up and com
pletes the theory. The authoritative documents
constituting the credentials of the Church and the
standard of the dogma survive still in the sacred
Scriptures. The desultory efforts made here and
there to impugn their authenticity and credibihty
rather iUustrate the consilient testimony in their
favour than justify a doubt either as to their date
or their authorship. The evidences ramify so widely
that to tear them up involves the disturbance of
the whole ground of aU historical certitude. For
instance, if it be asserted that the Gospel of
St. John was not written till the second century,
it remains to be explained how three of the Apo
stolic Fathers, Clement of Eome, Barnabas, and
Ignatius, can have quoted the book before it was
written. That the dogmas of the Christian faith
are taught in the inspired Word, is a fact entering
into the common text-books of this University. On
this ground of their inspired authority alone does
the Church of England teach them, because they
may be proved "by most certain warrants of Holy
Scripture." This is the affirmative side of the facts. It
presents us with a dogmatic faith, changeless, apo-

VIII] Recapitulation. 301
stolical, Divine. Here we are content to rest. We
hold as the ground of our own hope, and preach
as the only ground of hope for others, the faith
which the glorious company of the apostles, and the
goodly fellowship of the prophets, and the noble
army of martyrs, and the holy Church throughout
all the world, have held and preached from the
beginning. But from the same storehouse of facts we draw
alike the vindication of the truth and the refutation
of its opposite errors. Are we told that Christianity
has lived and triumphed, not by virtue of its defi
nite faith, but in spite of it, and only because it
has embodied and expressed the natural sentiment
of religion found to exist universally among man
kind ? We point to the facts of the case in reply.
They show that religion never has existed, and never
can exist, without a creed. The experiment was
actually made in the sceptical philosophy of the
ancients; and when dogmatic teaching died, religion
died, and morality perished with it. The know
ledge of positive religious truth, religion and virtue,
were all buried in the same yawning grave of pagan
demoralisation and misery.
Are we told that Christianity may be swept
away, and the natural insight of the human soul
into Divine things can replace its teaching with a
purer, fairer, and nobler creed ? Again I point to
the facts in answer. What the soul's intuitive
powers have done is the only conceivable test of
what they are competent to do. Yet there is not

302 The Obligations of Belief . [Lect.
to be found one sohtary truth accepted as truth by
any portion whatever of civilised mankind, which is
not contained within the circle of revealed doctrine,
and which does not derive from revelation its au
thority, if not its very existence.
Are we told that Christian doctrines are only the
formulas of human theology ; and since they have
the same technical form and origin, have the same
authority, and no more, as any other product of
human speculation ? I appeal to the facts in proof
that the premiss is wrong, and, therefore, that the
conclusion is wrong. The system of faith differs
diametrically from the system of speculation in its
objects, its methods, and its instruments. Specula
tion is but the product of the human intellect,
reasoning from assumptions created by itself, and
disavowing any other means of information than are
supplied by its own self-contained and autocratic
powers. The doctrines of the faith are general
isations from the inspired Word of God, and
possess all the authority belonging to the Word.
If the Word be of God, they are also of God.
The human form of expression does not change
the Divine realities. Totally different in character,
they have been totally different likewise in the
course of their history. Speculation, ever since men
began to think, has produced a succession of efforts
and a succession of failures. Gleams of Divine truth
have been caught from time to time, either to be
frittered away in logical refinement, or evaporated
into sceptical uncertainty. Side by side with the

VIII] Recapitulation. 303
undecaying youth and vitality of Christian doctrine
stands the latest development of speculative thought,
proclaiming in the Positivism of Comte the extent
and absoluteness of its own ignorance, and regard
ing it as the loftiest of discoveries.
No sooner is this door of objection closed than
another is opened. In claiming for Christianity
the glory of the past since the Christian era, and
regarding it as the spring of our marvellous pro
gress, intellectual, moral, social, and political, we
are ascribing to religion, so we are told, what is
properly due to other causes. The softening of
men's manners, the growth of their social life, the
advancement of political hberty, a free spirit of
enquiry, and an energetic enterprise, and not least
of all the progress of toleration, are asserted to be
due to civihsation, not to Christianity. Dogmatic
religion is so far from having accomphshed these
results, that but for its hindrances they would have
been far greater and higher. Such is the plea.
Again I turn to the facts, and I find that what we
caU human civUisation has not culminated by an
unbroken progress from the beginning, but has
been divided into two great periods. Ancient civi
lisation was already in articulo mortis, perishing
by the weight of its own intolerable evils, when
Christian civilisation arose. The grand distinction
in the character of the two is to be found in the
moral elements absent in the one and predominant
in the other. These characteristic elements, sharp
and crisp in the contrast of the sceptical and

304 The Obligations of Belief . [Lect.
dogmatic periods, are every one of them traceable to
Scriptural doctrines, out of which they have grown,
and with which they stand or fall. Now the differ
ence in the results of the two civilisations must be
explained, not by their points of resemblance, but
their points of discrepancy. The characteristic re
sults follow the characteristic principles, and these
principles, in the case of the latter civihsation, are
the dogmas of the Christian faith.
But the effort to find a rival to Christianity fail
ing, a last desperate attempt is made to enthrone a
master over it. Conscience is declared to be the
absolute judge and arbiter of truth, and its verdict
in the rejection of dogma to be among the most con
spicuous triumphs of rationalism. Once more I make
appeal to the facts of the past. A review of the
history of human thought on the subject of the
conscience is fatal to the claim. So far is conscience
from being accepted as the supreme faculty of man,
that while free thought exalts it on one side it
calls into question its very existence upon the other.
Where its existence is recognised, its supremacy, as
the ultimate tribunal from which there is no appeal,
is refuted. For conscience, in the latest conclusions
of phUosophy, is not one faculty but many, not
innate but acquired, not primary but subordinate,
not the formative and originative monarch of the
soul but the product of many causes, and edu
cated by a thousand influences. The claim for
conscience to be the judge and arbiter of faith
contradicts this philosophy. It transfers it out of

VIII] Summary of the Argument. 305
its proper sphere of influence into a new sphere
in which it is totally incompetent to pass. It
asserts for it an infallibility and accuracy contra
dicted by the universal testimony of human expe
rience, and, lastly, it extends the supposed infalli
bility of the moral sense into such an omniscient
acquaintance with facts as belongs to God alone.
In short, so far is conscience from being able to
judge of truth, that truth is the grand educator of
conscience. The difficulties thrown by modern thought
around the dogmatic faith are thus dissipated by
the steady light of historical facts. They roll away
as the mists of some mountain-land roU away be
fore the rising sun. The hand of human strength
would not more vainly endeavour to tear the sun
out of the skies, than human argument endeavours
to destroy the facts of the past or to silence their
irrefragable testimony to the perpetuity, antiquity,
and apostohcity of the Christian faith.
The body of doctrine described by this name is
distinct from the quality of faith, but it is not
separable from it. The one is the objective work
of the Holy Ghost ; the other His subjective work.
In the one, the Spirit provides the material for
faith ; in the other, He bestows its living power
and energy. The one is the outward structure,
the other the indweUing hfe. The body is not
the life, but it is in the organised body that the
Spirit lives, and through it the Spirit acts. The
outward doctrines are not the soul's inner act :
x

306 The Obligations of Belief . [Lect.
yet that Divine faculty by which the soul takes hold
of Deity, and comes into actual immediate contact
with things unseen, cannot act without the doc
trines. Faith can no more live and work in this
imperfect state of ours, without objective truths to
throw light into the intellect and supply food for
the affections, than a spirit can live and work
without the instrument of the body. In another
world it may be different. Amid the fruitions of
heaven and the full blaze of the beatific vision of
God, the glorified spirit of the saint may unite
itself by immediate contact with the Deity, just as
in the world of the Unseen disembodied spirits
live a life, doubtless of intense activity and mea
sureless capacity for enjoyment or for suffering,
apart from the body as it moulders meanwhUe in
the grave. But in our present state body and
spirit are constitutionally associated, and it is but
the dream of the fanatic to think of separating them.
In the same way belief can only live on what is
believed. Conviction, affection, emotion, dissociated
from definite points of behef, become evaporated into
ghostly names, and merge into mystical fanaticism
or sceptical indefiniteness. The work of the Spirit
within the soul is consistent with His work outside
it. God works harmoniously, and does not dislocate
His own actings into disorderly fragments. His
laws, if not invariable, are yet, in their ordinary
results, equable and consistent. If it be true that
the inspiration of the Holy Ghost has furnished us
with the doctrine, is it not consistent to believe

VIII] The Inward Witness. 307
that He works through the doctrine He has Himself
inspired ? If the Spirit bestows the belief, is it not
consistent that He should bestow the object of belief ?
The conclusions of our reason are congruous with
the positive declarations of the Word : " To one is
given by the Spirit the word of wisdom ; to another
the word of knowledge by the same Spirit ; to
another faith by the same Spirit ; . . . but all
these worketh that one and the selfsame Spirit,
dividing to every man severaUy as He wiUb." Both
parts of the one complete work come from the
same hand, and bear upon them the same seal and
signature of God the Holy Ghost.
Suppose the work to be complete in a man's soul.
The inward life with its inseparable experiences is
strong and vivid. Above and beyond the material
objects of sense, his inward eye perceives another
world, as real, as actual, as true to his percep
tions as the world seen, and as infinitely more
important as things eternal are more important
than things temporal. Amid the ebbing and flowing
hfe of his fellow-men, he is ever conscious of the
presence of another Being ; great indeed, and awful,
but not more great than admirable, not more awful
than beautiful — a Being with a threefold Personality,
combining the glories of Creator, Eedeemer, Sanc
tifier in the indivisible essence of the One God.
With this Being he holds daUy intercourse. The
human spirit meets with the Divine in the subtle
sensibilities of a renewed nature, and the Divine
b i Cor. xii. 8, 9, 1 1 .
X 2

308 The Obligations of Belief. [Lect.
Spirit meets with the human in the operations of
the Holy Ghost.
The Divine life within the man in no degree
disqualifies him for the work of his temporal life,
or renders him indifferent to its joys and sorrows,
its hopes and fears, its pleasures and its interests.
Never has there been a greater mistake than any
such supposition. The whole history of the saints
of God refutes the error. If indeed faith were
but a sentiment, and piety but the conscious out
goings of the soul itself reaching after a higher
state, then they would be unreal, and because un
real, practicaUy inoperative. There would be this
plain reason for it, that the impression of Divine
things, having no objective historical basis, directly
it came into contact with life's practical objects,
would come into contact with things more real
than itself, and would therefore yield beneath the
pressure of active perception and sensation. But
the effect is different when belief feeds on objects
definite and historical, capable of being proved by
evidence, and in the narrative of the life, suf
ferings, and death of Christ possessing a foothold
on the actual world of sense. For now what a
man beheves becomes as definite, as sure, as real,
as what a man sees and touches ; and the com
parative defect in the vividness of faith, compared
to the vividness of sight, is compensated for by
the higher sublimity and incomparable grandeur of
the objects. Suppose the man, therefore, with this
intense inward life fed by the definite doctrines

VIII] The Christian Spirit. 309
of the dogmatic faith, and deriving tenderness
and strength from mental contact with them, — ¦
would not the faith within be the experimental
seal placed upon the reahty of the faith without ?
Would not the inspired language describe the spon
taneous sentiment of his heart amid the contro
versies of an age of disputation : " Watch ye, stand
fast in the faith, quit you like men, be strong."
Certainly the frame of mind inculcated in the
apostolic words stands in strong contrast with the
timid pusillanimity too frequently characteristic of
modern Christians. The vigilance, courage, forti
tude, and energy of the soldier indicate a very
different mental condition. It appears to be thought
wise and just to be confident in everything except
in our religion ; to be definite and exact in every
thing except what touches the soul, and God, and
eternity ; to hold firm everything except the faith,
and trust every one except God. Faintness has
touched the heart of 'the Church ; her palsied hand
can scarcely grasp her weapons, and her tongue,
instead of ringing out her battle-cry clear and
sharp as the voices of the saints of old, has
learned to speak stammeringly and hesitatingly the
truths by which apostles triumphed and for which
martyrs died. There is danger of her turning
craven in the maturity of her strength. What is
worst of all, this doubting and coward spirit is
proclaimed to be philosophical and Christian, and
the only becoming temper to be cultivated. This
alone is praised as a lofty superiority to prejudice.

310 The Obligations of Belief . [Lect.
If any man dares to hold that truth has not be
come falsehood, and that scepticism is not faith,
nor ignorance wisdom, such a man is behind his
times, and the age will condescend to ridicule his
abilities and look down with contempt upon his
ignorance. Be it so. This is not the time when
a man can stand diffidently on one side, and excuse
himself by pleas of weakness for treacherous com
pliance with the sins of his day. The meanest
man in the Church of England, who loves his
Lord and his Church, has a right to speak and
fling back at the world within the Church the
vnworthy weapons of its warfare.
The temper inculcated by the apostle is not
to be confounded with a blind adherence to a
traditional faith. Ignorant obstinacy may close its
eyes, but faith walks circumspectly, and watches
and analyses with holy vigilance every movement
of the great controversy, as the restless sea heaves
and tosses beneath the ark. To maintain this dis
tinction clearly we need to draw another line
between the enquirer and the believer. Let me
briefly examine the position of the two in this
exact relation.
The position of an enquirer cannot be a perma
nent and final state. It is no more than a process of
transition from one mental condition into another.
Human nature cannot continue without a belief,
even though its behef should be the abnegation
of belief, and its dogma the denial of all dogma.
Conclusions of some kind are a necessity to the

VIII] Duty of Enquirers. 311
human mind. To hve without them would be to
live in a frightful dream ; in a condition of giddy
bewilderment, destructive equally of thought and
action. Such a state cannot possibly continue, and
in point of fact never does continue. Beligion
consists of certain positive claims on faith and
practice. Not to yield to these claims is to reject
them. Eejection amounts to an assertion of inde
pendence and a denial of any authority of God
over us antecedently to revelation, by virtue of
creation, preservation, and moral government. God
has a right to speak and to be heard. This right
may be equally rejected by formal denial and by
practical indifference. In the one case, the claim is
admitted to be worthy of consideration and to call
for a decision; in the other case, it is treated with
contemptuous neglect. In this latter case, rejec
tion is just as positive and much more insulting.
The act is recognised in this character in the
inspired language of Scripture : " Because I have
called, and ye refused ; I have stretched out My
hand, and no man regarded ; but ye have set at
nought all My counsel, and would none of My
reproof : I will also laugh at your calamity ; I
wiU mock when your fear cometh0."
A man on such a condition necessarily adopts
one of two alternatives. He may not think it
worth his whUe to settle his doubts relative to
Divine truth, but may deliberately postpone this
great question to the pressing claims of his out-
c Prov. i. 24.

312 The Obligations of Belief. [Lect.
ward and temporal being. In this case he does
come to a decision, but it is the decision of the
secularist. Or, allowing the question to remain be
fore his mind, he yet keeps it open and allows
himself to regard it as one which he either need
not or cannot determine. He accepts doubt as the
chronic condition of his mind. Such a condition is
demoralising to every moral principle in the highest
possible degree. It is as much a plain duty of
our common manhood to use the faculties bestowed
upon us for the discovery of truth as to make a
right use of any other of our faculties. In this
case also the man does come to a decision, but it
is the decision of the sceptic.
The state of an enquirer is therefore a transition
state, and neither is nor can be a final condition.
The necessities of our mental and moral constitu
tion render it impossible for any man to rest on
doubt. The outward facts of our condition, and the
moral wants of the soul itself, lead to the same con
clusion. For during this state of hesitating indeci
sion the course of hfe is passing on all the same.
Existence does not stand still nor time check his
ever-rolling wheels while we make up our minds
how we shall use them. The progression of our
bodily life brings with it its natural associations of
earthly affections, interests, and pursuits. Health
and sickness, joy and sorrow, success and failure,
make up the chequered whole of our life, and as
they pass over the firmament of our mortal exist
ence they throw their shadows over the soul itself.

VIII] Duty of Enquirers. 313
No human strength is so firmly poised in the force
of its own wiU but that these outward changes
agitate it more or less, as the heaving of a distant
storm may set a slumbering sea into motion to the
furthest bound of each petty creek and bay. They
awaken into life the soul's slumbering sensibilities.
They exercise conscience ahke by the memories of
the past and the instinctive hopes and fears of the
future. As life passes on; as its interests thicken;
as the decreasing buoyancy of the heart leaves each
emotion to indurate into a chronic sorrow ; as we
separate from those we love, and death comes nearer
and nearer to ourselves, flinging its long foreshadows
over our life, — the task of hardening our nature into
apathy, and laying to sleep its inward agitation, be
comes more and more difficult. The dread realities
of life and death sooner or later break through the
feeble barrier, and bring, whether we will or not, the
great question to its crisis. Life presents no more
pitiable picture of human ignorance and weakness
than a thinking, conscious, intelligent, immortal
being standing amid such stern facts, and either
too frivolous to think about them, or too wUfully
ignorant to solve them.
I repeat, therefore, that the condition of an en
quirer cannot be the permanent condition of any
man, but can only represent a transition from one
mental and moral state into another. If any mind
be exercised by doubts in this greatest of all great
subjects, it is its duty to face those doubts, and
resolutely to solve them. The fullest, freest, widest

314 The Obligations of Belief . [Lect.
enquiry is the only path of safety. An honest
mind, resolute to do its duty to itself in laying
the foundations of its own belief, and yet, at the
same time, modestly conscious of its own weak
ness, and therefore willing and anxious to be taught,
represents a very different state from that sceptical
frivolity which substitutes a sneer for an argu
ment, which is too indifferent to take the trouble
to enquire, and too blindly self-satisfied to be either
willing or able to learn. No one who knows the
world, and is accustomed to meet >with men, can
deny that an enormous amount of such scepticism
exists, and is often dignified by the name of phi
losophical impartiality. It is in fact unbelief in its
meanest and most unworthy shape. The honest
enquirer, whatever may be the issue of his enquiry,
is in any case worthy of honour and respect. But
the work of deciding upon a faith, whether it be
the faith of the secularist, or of the sceptic, or of
the Christian, must be seriously undertaken. In
face of the momentous gravity of the issue it should
be made a hfe work, to be done, not hastily and
frivolously, but dehberately and seriously. The ne
cessity of a decision should be met by a solemn
conference between the soul and God, and in the
immediate sight of the other world.
Upon the mind of any such enquirer one rule
must be earnestly pressed. The question between
a dogmatic Christianity, with its majestic claims
and magnificent promises, and a rationahsm con
fident of its own self-sufficiency, does not run

VIII] Cautions to Enquirers. 315
upon a single line. No one argument, nor any
one single source of proof, can be sufficient in such
a court and in such a controversy. The temp
tation to pursue one fine of enquiry alone, and to
rest satisfied on that single issue, may probably
be great. The mental indecision rendering enquiry
necessary is probably the result of an experienced
difficulty. Some one argument has disturbed the
previous balance and repose of faith. The mind
in such a condition wUl naturally be disposed to
follow out this line of argument to the end, with
out remembering the necessity of testing its con
clusion by other and collateral lines. Its influence
in unsettling the mind has already invested it
with a certain amount of authority. It will carry
the prestige of a first success with it. The effect
is much the same in the contact of a mind with
an argument, as in the contact of one mind with
another mind. There is a coUision between the
two. The one which succeeds in asserting even
a momentary superiority, such as is involved in
the creation of a state of doubt, naturally takes
the precedence ; it becomes the master, and the
other the pupU. The pupil having once submitted
himself to the master's hand is disposed to sur
render himself to his sole guidance. Once let this
conclusion be formed, and even pride itself, for
the moment offended, compensates itself for the
wound inflicted on its self-love, by tenaciously
following its new guide, and obstinately refusing
to admit any doubt of its conclusions.

316 The Obligations of Belief. [Lect.
Now, if the question at issue depended upon the
settlement of any one single question, this mode of
procedure might be vindicated. But the edifice of
Christianity does not rest on a single pillar, but on
many ; and were it to be admitted that one here
and there had failed us, the rest would still support
in its integrity and strength the glorious super
structure. Not one has failed. Not a line of
argument ever advanced in the long history" of
this controversy has been given up as untenable ;
not one position has been surrendered. New ones
have been added, but the old ones remain where
they were. Nevertheless, it is not on any one single
evidence that the faith rests, but on many evi
dences. It is built upon them all in combination.
At least eight totally distinct lines of evidence con
verge hi a common conclusion, and a new one is
supphed by the very convergence [i]. The con-
sUience of proof is marveUous, and stands alone
and unparalleled in the entire history of human
controversy. To argue from any one is consequently as unjust
and unreasonable as it would be for a man to split
the surface of a single stone in the strong founda
tions of some human edifice, and then to boast that
he had destroyed the entire structure.
The modern tendency to reduce history to a
philosophy, and to find in the ever-fluctuating ele
ments of human action the materials for a science,
increases the temptation to isolate one line of
argument from all the rest, and to decide the entire

VIII] Cautions to Enquirers. 317
question upon it [2]. We map out the mental
history of the past, divide it into epochs, and
assign to each its peculiar characteristics. We are
thus tempted to recognise in the fluctuations of
human thought the action of an invariable law,
and to dismiss the modes of thinking characteristic
of a past epoch, as if they were necessarUy obsolete,
and we in the nineteenth century had no more to do
with them than we have to do with the manners or
the social habits of the past [3].
Such a conclusion is totaUy unphUosophical. Let
the rule be applied to science, for instance, and its
fallacy wiU become apparent. Are we to dismiss
from our scientific catalogue in the nineteenth cen
tury every scientific conclusion arrived at in the
seventeenth century ? Whatever was true then is
true now, and their scientific knowledge is but the
basis of our own. It wUl be replied that we have
discarded certain theories of the past in the sphere
of science because a more accurate knowledge has
proved them to be untrue. Certainly we have,
and when modern thought has proved any of the
old evidences adduced in support of Christianity to
be untrue, we wiU discard them by all means
in the same manner. But among the substantial
proofs of Christian apologetics in the past, I ask
which have been disproved ? Let them be speci
fied and flung away. I reply that not one has
been disproved, nor has any serious effort been
made to disprove them. They are often treated
with affected contempt, but disproof of them there

318 The Obligations of Belief . [Lect.
is none. They have many of them received great
accumulations of detaU, and have been marvellously
strengthened ; as for instance, by the geographical
and other explorations of Palestine, and by the an
tiquities of Mesopotamia. But there is not one
substantial evidence destroyed. They stand, not hke
the giant columns of Luxor and Karnak, or the
exquisite fragments of Baalbec and Palmyra, mere
records of a past magnificence, themselves slowly
mouldering into ruin ; but they stand like the ever
lasting hills, jointed into the framework of the solid
globe, and looking down upon the perishing genera
tions of mankind, themselves imperishable whUe the
world lasts.
The history of the Evidential School, as it has
been called, of the seventeenth century Ulustrates
the justice of this plea. That the labours of the
Christian apologists of that day were triumphantly
successful is admitted. Beneath the blaze of their
overwhelming arguments, the Deism of the time
actually died away and became extinct [4]. Thought
in our own day has directed its attack upon Chris
tianity from a totally different quarter, and there
fore has been answered by totally different argu
ments. But because the facts alleged in proof of
Christianity two centuries since have become in
applicable to the objections of our own day, have
they therefore ceased to be facts, or become less
significant and conclusive in their proper sphere
than they were ? Because it suits the humour of
modern thought to regard the external evidences

VIII] Cautions to Enquirers. 319
with cool indifference, and to ignore them as com
pletely as if they had never existed, are they
therefore evidences no longer, or do they cease
to be a part of that enormous aggregate of fact
which stares the theoretic sceptic full in the face,
and must be explained before he can justly claim
to have shaken a sohtary stone in the deep foun
dations of the faith ? The Christian may glory
in the multitudinous defences of the truth, as the
Psalmist gloried in his glowing language over the
situation of the earthly Jerusalem : " Walk about
Zion, and go round about her : teU the towers
thereof. Mark ye well her bulwarks, consider her
palaces ; that ye may tell it to the generation
foUowing. For this God is our God for ever and
ever : He will be our guide unto deathd."
This survey of the whole field of evidence is
the more necessary because it furnishes the only
possible safeguard against prejudice. The claim
often asserted that an enquirer into truth should put
away every conviction of the past, every impres
sion produced by habit, education, or experience,
amounts really to the claim that he should put
away one class of prejudices in order to take up
another. To take out of the mind all active im
pressions is simply impossible. The very demand
implies a foregone conclusion that Christianity is
not true ; and a foregone conclusion as much warps
the mind in one direction as in another. A man
can no more disencumber himself at will of aU
d Ps. xlviii. 1 5.

320 The Obligations of Belief . [Lect.
mental impressions than he can disencumber him
self of his personal identity. The mind once accus
tomed to think cannot become a tabula rasa. Nor,
could we suppose the thinking powers never to have
acted, would it be possible even then to put away
those primary conceptions which are intuitive and
cannot be denied without an outrage upon our nature.
Are we, therefore, not to cultivate impartiality ?
Certainly we should cultivate it. But it can only be
attained by opening the mind to conviction from
every quarter equally, and admitting every available
light into the open avenues of the soul. To pick
up one favourite line of argument, and then arbi
trarily to reject and contemptuously disavow all the
rest, is to accept prejudice and throne it as a tyran
nical despot over the heart and conscience.
Another very necessary caution follows from this
conclusion. Men are loudly told not to be afraid of
the consequences of enquiry, but boldly and un
flinchingly to follow it out to the utmost, to what
ever conclusions it may lead them. In one sense
the canon is true ; in another sense most untrue. If
it means that truth is to be the simple object of our
search, and that it is to be pursued with undivided
loyalty of heart, then it is true. Every party
to this controversy must learn to discard hard
words, and give to each other credit for a sincere
pursuit of truth. But if it be meant that any
one separate line of argument is to be pursued to
its conclusions, and no other considerations are to
be taken into account, then it is not true. We

VIII] Cautions to Enquirers. 321
aU desire the truth, but we must not rashly assume
the conclusion formed on an isolated argument to
be the truth. Such is ever the weakness of the
human intellect, that it needs to test and correct
its conclusions by every possible experiment.
It is in this last and untrue sense that the
advice is ordinarily given. The circumstances sup
posed are something like the following. An en
quirer pursues a course of investigation which
shakes his faith in the Divine character of Chris
tianity. One by one his old convictions, dear to
him as life, are loosed from their hold in the
soul, and disappear in the black gulf of unbelief
yawning beneath his feet. As his logical process
proceeds, and he, unconscious of the first vice in
herent in its very premisses, perceives one truth
to leave him after another, one star after another
to be darkened in the moral firmament, he seems
to stand alone in a world without a God, and
is filled with horror unutterable and the weight
of an infinite desolation at the dreadful prospect.
He is bidden to be indifferent to these feelings,
to regard them as sheer weaknesses, the remains
of obsolete prejudices, not to be surrendered without
a struggle. In such a case, I protest that the
rule is not true, but is a pregnant and palpable
faUacy. I fully admit that, if truth demands it,
even this sacrifice must be made ; but I deny that
what demands such a sacrifice can be true.
These emotions of the soul are no prejudices of
education, but a vital part of our moral selves.
Y

322 The Obligations of Belief . [LeCt.
It is possible to educate ourselves out of them,
just as it would be possible for a man to destroy
his own sight, or to paralyse his own limbs ; but
it can only be done by crushing part of the soul's
constitution, and reducing its moral life into the
silence and torpor of the grave. The agonies ex
perienced in the prospect of reducing this comely
world into an infidel chaos arise from the univer
sal wants of the human soul. To crush them out
of hfe is to do outrage to our own nature. From
the revulsion of so great an outrage, many who
have cut away the moorings of their souls from a
Christianity founded on historical evidence, have
found refuge from the terror of despair in the abso
lutism of Church authority. The truth cannot re
quire us to place one part of the human soul into
conflict with another, and prostrate the bleeding
heart, and the tortured conscience, and the desolated
affections beneath the heels of a cold and heartless
speculation. Enquiry is the duty of a soul tormented by
doubt. But let the enquiry be solemn, honest,
earnest; let it be truthful and fair; let it be full
and free, and I no more doubt that it wiU issue
in a firm and reasonable faith than I have doubt
of the existence of the sun in yonder heavens.
But we cannot be enquirers for ever. We have
voluntarily become members of a Christian society.
This Church teaches a dogmatic faith ; not because
she would bind any man's freedom of conscience
by the despotism of ecclesiastical authority, but

VIII] Duties of a Believer. 323
because she has inherited a certain trust, and is
resolute faithfully to discharge it. To her, in this
period of the world, and in this portion of Chris
tendom, has been committed the faith once delivered
to the saints, and she cannot prove untrue to the
great trusteeship without destroying her own hfe.
She has a definite message to deliver, and whether
men will • hear or whether they will forbear, she
must deliver it. She is the inheritor of the faith
of saints and martyrs, apostles and prophets, and
she walks in their footsteps. The mantle of the
grand past of the Church of Christ has descended
upon her shoulders ; and her articles, jealously
moulded upon Scripture ; her formularies, steeped
in the spirit of dogmatic faith, and penetrated
throughout with dogmatic reference, show with
how large a portion of the spirit of the ancient
saints she holds forth "the Word of Life." It is
no more possible, consistently with an honest in
terpretation, to take the dogmatic teaching out of
the documents it pervades everywhere, than it is
possible to take the colour out of the skies, or
strip their thousand hues of beauty from the petals
of the flower or the plumage of the bird. When
we became members of this Church, we professed
ourselves to be enquirers no longer, but believers.
We accepted service with the historical Christ,
the hving centre of the historical faith. We were
enlisted beneath His banner at the baptismal font,
and were signed with the sign of the Cross " in
token that hereafter we should not be ashamed
Y 2

324 The Obligations of Belief . [Lect.
to confess the faith of Christ crucified, but man
fully to fight under His banner, against sin, the
world, and the devil ; and to continue His faithful
soldiers and servants unto our life's end."
No dexterity can ever succeed in reconciling such
an obligation with the position of a disciple of
modern thought. For if there be no divinely-
given dogma, there is no faith to maintain. Then
Christ was not crucified for us ; then sin is but
a variable and arbitrary thing ; then there is no
"world" amid the blaze of a national Christianity ;
then the devil is but an ignorant fiction of the
past ; then we cannot be soldiers, if there be no
definite faith to keep, nor servants if there be
no authoritative law to obey. The man who,
either by adult baptism or by the rite of con
firmation, has accepted membership in the Church
of England, has passed onward from enquiry into
behef, and can no more reconcile the mental con
ditions belonging to the two states than he can
blend the immaturity of the boy with the maturity
of the man.
Yet more cogently does the obligation he upon
aU who have accepted Orders within the mmistry
of the Church of England. The position of enquiry
is inconsistent with the first conditions of the
office. A teacher must know what he teaches ; and
when the teaching is moral and experimental, must
hold as the guide and comfort of his own soul
what he stands forward to proclaim to be the
guide and comfort of other men's souls. Who can

VIII] Teachers not Enquirers. 325
ever forget to the last day of hfe the solemn
question put to him at his ordination : " WUt
thou be ready, with all faithful dUigence, to banish
and drive away all erroneous and strange doctrines
contrary to God's Word ;" or, while memory con
tinues, lose the recollection of the charge : " Take
thou authority to preach the Word of God and to
minister the Holy Sacraments in the congregation."
An enquirer after truth cannot be a teacher of
truth. He may teach, no doubt, others less ad
vanced than himself, but it will be the teaching of
his own struggles and difficulties. An honest and
truthful mind must reflect itself in aU its outgoings.
The language must be the mirror of the man. What
is in the heart must, consistently with self-respect
and the love of truth, find its utterance in the mode
of thinking, feeling, and speaking. A teacher should
be a believer, not an enquirer ; and a teacher in the
ministry of a dogmatic Church should be a believer
in a dogmatic faith. He dare not teach what he
does not assuredly believe, lest he should either
convert a lie into the truth of God, or turn the
truth of God into a lie.
Why then should the hps of a Christian teacher
be more timid and hesitating than the hps of
other teachers ? Masters in the school of doubt,
or of unbelief, speak ever firmly and confidently
enough; why should the tongue of the Church
alone stammer in her message, or her heart distrust
the honesty of her own enquiry and the strength
of her own convictions. If the state of an enquirer

326 The Obligations of Belief . [Lect.
has its own appropriate mental condition, so also
has the state of a behever. Doubt belongs to
the one, but a firm and reasonable conviction to
the other. The hesitancy of childhood must ripen
into the firm and strong maturity of the man.
No dim vagueness of impression, no feeble uncer
tainty of conviction, no faltering grasp of truth,
no coward's timidity in maintaining and confessing
it, become those who are inheritors of the faith
of prophets and apostles. The hero's strength and
the martyr's constancy are no less taxed in the
sphere of belief than of practice. God Himself
appeals to them : "Be no more children, tossed
to and fro, and carried about with every wind of
doctrine d," but "Watch ye, stand fast in the faith,
quit you like men, be strong."
Such a frame of mind is not to be confounded
with a blind obstinacy, shutting its eyes to the
controversies of the day, and disdainfully indif
ferent to the progress of thought and the results
of investigation. Teachableness of mind befits the
Christian to the last hour of life. No thinking
man can spend a day without learning. In the
sphere of doctrine itself human mistakes and mis
conceptions become largely blended up with the
eternal realities of Divine knowledge, and it is
the anxious work of a lifetime to separate them.
The acquisition of a fixed standpoint for faith
enables a man the better to think, to read, to
enquire, to make himself acquainted with other
d Eph. iv. 14.

VIII] The Christian Spirit. 327
men's thoughts and enquiries, because in the re
pose of a settled conviction his mind has acquired
a mental leverage to work from. But if a bhnd
acquiescence in a traditional belief stands at one
extreme of the mental scale, a cowardly distrust
of truth and an unsettled restless scepticism stands
at the other. Between the two hves and works
the mature faith of the Christian, equaUy removed
from narrow bigotry and from cowardly compromise,
intelligent and enquiring on one side, firmly poised
and courageous upon the other, modest and teach
able because conscious of the weaknesses of man,
strong and resolute because confident in the wisdom
and infallibility of God.
Against such a faith the mere foam and froth
of controversy will beat innocuously as the waves
against the immoveable rock. The idle arrogancies
of confident assertion and reckless assumption wiU
pass over a mind settled upon this rock harm
lessly as the wind. Charges of ignorance and
narrowness and bigotry it wUl put on one side as
such palpable violations of the first courtesies of aU
controversy as to make the wielders of such weapons
unworthy of attention. Its clear, steady eye wiU
pierce at once through those loose generalisations
from facts imperfectly known, and guesses elevated
into the dignity of conclusions, which sceptical science
itself has found it necessary to disavow, and which
threaten to make geology a byword and a reproach.
From its calm height faith looks down on the roUing
mists and troubled waves below, — its foot upon

328 The Obligations of Belief. [Lect.
the rock, its eye upon the Cross, its hand upon
God. To a behever thus established in an intelhgent
conviction, a timid pusillanimity in the mainten
ance of Divine truth is a fourfold treachery. It
is treachery to himself, because it involves dis
trust in the honesty of his own investigation and
the accuracy of his own dehberate conclusions. It
is treachery to his Church, because his unfaith
fulness to her principles weakens her arm in the
day of conflict, and lowers the shout of her battle-
cry into the panic-stricken accents of the coward.
It is treachery to Christ; for the Cross is the
condition of our calling, and he who deserts the
banner in the hour of danger proves himself un
worthy of his Master. It is treachery to God; for
it distrusts His revelation of the truth, as if He
had not revealed to us aU we need to know, or
had failed to make the revelation clear. Honesty
to ourselves, faithfulness to our Church, allegiance to
our glorified Master, and confidence in God, should
teach us watchfulness in guarding the faith, con
stancy in defending it, manliness in holding it, and
strength to hve, or, if God wUl, to die in defence
of it.
Such a courage must, however, have its origin in
an influence higher and greater than itself. No
merely intellectual apprehension of a creed, no per
ception of its internal unity and coherence, no cold
survey of evidence however conclusive, no reluctant
acceptance of the force of outward facts can kindle

VIII] The Christian Spirit. 329
so lofty an enthusiasm. This recognition and con
fession of a dogmatic creed is good, but it can only
supply the food of faith, and cannot breathe into
faith itself that Divine unction and strength whereby
it soars towards the skies. The objective faith is
only instrumental, and Christ is its true end and
object. The personal contact of the soul with its
Saviour, as it is brought into vital union with Him,
and derives out of His fulness grace for grace, is
the alone true spring of life, and God the Holy
Ghost is the efficient Agent of it. Then the soul
has the inward witness in itself. The sense of for
giveness through the blood of the Covenant, the joy
of the Divine hfe, as fresh from the heart of God
Himself it comes thrilling into the soul with emo
tions strangely new and unutterably sweet, the
calm confidence of the heart in the love of a Father
in heaven, its sensible consciousness of His presence,
the joy of intercourse with Him in prayer and
praise at an open throne of grace where God and
the soul meet together, constitute experimental proofs
of the Divine authority of the dogmatic faith ex
ceeding all others. We no longer believe, but we
know. The living spirit works through them upon
the living soul, and a man may as soon doubt his
own existence as doubt the reality of an inward
consciousness higher than nature and stronger than
death. This experience is no variable sensation ; not
one of those ephemeral feelings that play over
the human soul, like the lights and shadows of

330 The Obligations of Belief . [Lect.
a summer day upon the surface of sea and land.
The definite promises of the Word constitute the
objective standard of the sensation. If the dog
mas of human depravity, and of the operations of
the sanctifying Spirit upon the soul, be true, this
experience cannot be otherwise than it is. A
nature unregenerate must ever shrink from God
and from His truth out of the mere instinct of its
spiritual alienation. However moral and honest and
sincere a man may be, the pride of an ahenated
nature will ever hold itself aloof from God. Truth
which is of God can never be cordially embraced
without the teaching of the Spirit of God. Nor can
the Spirit of Truth work in the soul without leaving
its sensible effects on the head, the conscience, and
the heart. Thus the Scripture ever refers a saving
faith to a saving knowledge : " How shall they
believe in Him of whom they have not heard e ?"
and the effect of the two to the action of an
enlightening Spirit : " God, who commanded the
hght to shine out of darkness, hath shined in our
hearts, to give the. light of the knowledge of the
glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ f."
From this fountain have flowed the zeal of pro
phets, the faith of' apostles, and the constancy of
martyrs. With this experience Paul preached the
Saviour whom once he persecuted. This sustained
John in Patmos. This quickened the souls of
the primitive martyrs as they were torn by the
Eoman- lions, or set up as living torches to light
e Eom. x. 14. f 2 Cor. iv. 6.

VIII] The Witness within. 331
the darkness of the prophetic Babylon. Through
this triumphed the long line of the ancient saints,
Cyprian, and Chrysostom, and Ambrose, and Athan
asius, and Augustine, and others whose names are
in the book of life. This nerved the courage of
the Beformers, and strengthened Luther at Erfurt,
Calvin at Geneva, and Zwingle at Zurich, and sup
ported Latimer and Bidley as they gave their
bodies to be burned, and consecrated the soU of
Oxford with their martyred ashes. What shaU
I more say ; for the time would faU me to tell
of aU " who through faith have subdued kingdoms,
wrought righteousness, obtained promises, stopped the
mouths of lions, quenched the violence of fire, escaped
the edge of the sword, out of weakness were made
strongs." These heroes of the Church have ever
built their faith on dogma, and the Spirit of God
has cemented, by a personal experience, the sacred
foundations. To give up the doctrines of the faith
would have been to them more than giving up their
life. This inward, living, personal experience draws the
true line between the Church of God and the world.
Scripture positively asserts this : "For as many
as are led by the Spirit of God, they are the
sons of God h ;" " If any man be in Christ he is
a new creature1." The apostolic words do but echo
the language of One greater than apostles, and who
spoke with the authority of a twofold Deity — the
Deity of the Spirit given Him without measure, and
(? Heb. xi. 33. b Kom. viii. 14. > 2 Cor. v. 17.

332 The Obligations of Belief . [Lect.
the Deity of His own nature in whom dwelt the
fulness of the Godhead ' bodily : " Except a man be
born from above he cannot see the kingdom of Godk."
To this issue God is manifestly leading His Church.
The experimental work of God the Holy Ghost
upon the human soul constitutes the broad line of
demarcation, the gulf fixed and impassable between
the two worlds ; and on either side of it he truth
and error, belief and unbehef, life and death.
I trust I shall not be thought to transgress the
proper bounds of the office committed to me in this
place, or to be guilty of immodesty and presumption,
if before this venerable University I venture, though
it be but for a moment, to merge the argument of
the lecturer in the message of the preacher. I have
recently looked into the open grave, and have seen
the other world too vividly flashing through its
slender veil for the impression ever to be forgotten.
Brethren, partakers of the holy calling, in this
hght aU things should be regarded ; for that other
world wUl be no abrupt transition, no dislocated
commencement of a new state, but the consummation
and crown of the world that is. The track of glory
leading across the waves into the better land must
take its beginning on this side Jordan, amid the con
flicts and struggles and anxieties of life. We as much
need Divine help to enable us to live as we need it
to strengthen us to die. For life, not for death, is
the Gospel given. The beginning of spiritual life is
in its power ; the consecration of temporal life is in
k John iii. 3 : yevvtjBjj avaOev.

VIII] One Hope. 333
its blessing ; the inheritance of eternal life is bound
up in its promise. Our relation towards Christ
is therefore not a question for the future, but a
question for the present. To know Him and the
power of His resurrection is the true wisdom. The
heavenly light flashes upon the soul through the cre
vices of the broken heart, and the triumphant songs
of the saints in heaven can alone be learned in the
pathetic contrition and tearful supplication of the
saints on earth. The faith alone gives dignity to
early manhood, for it supphes a noble purpose to ele
vate life, and a pure hope to sanctify it. The faith
alone is the glory of riper years, teaching us not to
exhaust our spiritual strength in effeminate idle
ness, but to overcome the evil one, strong in faith,
firm in hope, and rejoicing with joy unspeakable
amid the very heat and labours of the conflict. This
alone is the crown and joy of age, as it ripens for
the grave, beautiful as some gorgeous summer sun,
more lovely in the pomp and splendour of its
setting than in the blaze of its midday strength.
He who lives upon this faith, and drinks from this
fountain of the Spirit of God, is truly the believer.
In the absence of this wisdom all other wisdom is
valueless ; for it will give neither strength in life,
nor hope in death, nor heaven in the life beyond.
Then is our whole history a long mistake ; a comely
tree of God's planting, but twisted out of shape and
distorted by sin. Then is man himself a contradic
tion, life a paradox, and death a blank. Then,
indeed, have we cause to plead the pathetic Litany

334 The Obligations of Belief .
of our Church : " From all blindness of heart, good
Lord, deliver us !" But if the believer has learned
of Christ, he finds it his highest ambition to walk
worthily of Him. In His school, where God the
Spirit is the teacher, the loftiest intellect and the
maturest wisdom may be honoured in becoming a
disciple. Neither wUl life weaken nor death efface
His blessed lessons. They may be commenced in
conflict, but they will be carried on in joy, and
completed in the beatific vision for ever and ever.
What then, though the battle rages on every side,
and without are fightings, and within are fears :
shame be to the craven heart that deserts the banner
of his crucified Master. The lips that utter the
words are the lips of an apostle, but the Spirit
dictating them is the Spirit of Christ : " Watch
ye, stand fast in the faith, quit you hke men, be
strong."

NOTES

NOTES

LECTUEE I
NOTE 1, p. 7.
IN Jude 3 the word 77 terns denotes not fides qua creditur,
but fides quae creditur. " It remains, therefore, that the
word expresses the truth received ; and in this sense the
general consent of criticism may be said to accept it."
Erasmus paraphrases the apostle's words thus : " Pro fide
hoc est pro sana doetrina ab apostolis accepta quae semel
Sanctis tradita est, nee alio tempore alia atque alia deberi
debet, deeertare jubemus.'" Beza translates : " Pro fide quae
semel tradita est Sanctis," and adds : " pro viribus tue-
amini fidem, sana soil, doetrina et vitae exemplis." The
verdict of the older critics is summed up in " Poli Synopsis
Criticorum : " " Fidem hie vocat ipsam doctrinam (Grotius,
Beza, Piscator) fidei, videlicet Evangelium (Piscator) per
metony. (Grotius, Piscator, Vorstius) ut Acts vi. 7 (Grotius),
1 Tim. iv. 1 et alibi saspe (Beza)." Wolfius in his " Curae
Philologicae" adopts the paraphrase of Sherlock : " Ut serio
teneatis earn, quae vobis tradita est, docti-inam, contra falsos
doctores, quos claneulum audio irrepsisse." In this interpre
tation our English critics unanimously agree. Bloomfield,
Alford, Wordsworth, and Webster and Wilkinson adopt it.
Sehleusner in his Lexicon, among other applications of the
word, gives the following : " Objective sumitur et ipsam
formulam religionis Christianae (quia fidei seu verae in Deum
fiduciae praeeeptione potissimum continebatur), doctrinam
z

338 NOTES 2, 3. [Lect.
Evangelieam a Jesu et apostolis traditam fidem quae creditur
seu objectivam notat." Among the list of expositors who
adopt this sense may be specified, Hammond, Whitby,
Sherlock, and Doddridge, in our own country ; and Bengel,
De Wette, Stier, Passow, Huther, and others abroad.

NOTE 2, p. 8.
" The.ee classes of passages occur. In the one it [maris] is
used with the article in contexts where it can only be under
stood of the act of faith in the believer. In another class of
passages its objective meaning is equally clear; while in a
third class of passages the word may bear either meaning."
The passages where the word occurs in the Acts of the
Apostles are so exceedingly numerous (2 1 3., with or without
the article), that no object would be gained by loading the
Notes with an exhaustive classification. I therefore give in
stances only. The word with the article is used in a subjec
tive meaning in Acts iii. 16; xv. 9 ; Rom. iii. 30, 31 ; iv. 11,
14; Eph. iii. 17; Col. ii. 12; and Philem. 4. It is employed
with the article in an objective sense in Acts vi. 7 ; xiii. 8 ;
Gal. i. 33; 1 Tim. iii. 9; v. 8; vi. %\ ; Titus i. 13. In the fol
lowing passages it will bear, consistently with the context,
either a subjective or an objective meaning, or both, viz.
Acts xiv. 22 ; xv. 9; xvi. 5 > xx- 21; xxiv. 24; xxvi. 18;
Rom. i. \%; 2 Cor. i. 24; Phil. i. 17; 1 Tim. iv. 1; 2 Tim.
ii. 18 ; iii. 8 ; Titus ii. 2. The transition usage of the word
appears also when it is used without the article. Its subjec
tive use without the article needs no illustration. But it is
used objectively in Eph. iv. 5, and both objectively and sub
jectively in 1 Tim. i. 2, 4, 19; ii. 7, 15 ; and Titus i. 4.

NOTE 3, p. 12.
" -napabodeCcTj: Tradita divinitus." [Bengel.) "ApudArist.
Phys. 4 : Tiapahehojxivov, a majoribus traditum." [Scapula.)
" irapabtbwiAt, : trado docendo, doceo, instituo, praecipio, narro,
Mark viii. 13; Luke i. a ; Acts vi. 14; xvi. 4; Rom. vi. 17 ;

I] NOTE 4. 339
i Cor. xi. 2, 23; xv. 3; 2 Pet. ii. 2; Jude 3." [Schleusner.)
" To give or hand over to another, as a torch in the torch-
race, Plat. Legg. 776 b; then in various ways, like Latin
tradere, as a kingdom to one's son, correlative to iiapabixeo-Ocu,
Hor. ii. 159; one's son to a tutor, Hor. i. 73; a prize to a
winner, Xen. Oec. xx. 28." [Liddell and Scott.) " em tov ef
apxvs wiv napaboOevra \6yov emcrrpi\lr<i>p,ev ." [Polycarp). ad
Phil. e. 7.)

NOTE 4, p. 16.
" The object for which Christ appeared to St. Paul was not
to impart to him a new system of chronology, but to make
him a witness to His resurrection, and to enlighten his mind
on truths connected with the everlasting well-being of man
kind. The supernatural gifts of the Spirit were communi
cated, not for the purpose of solving dubious points of history,
but to open the minds of the apostles to the end and design
of the Incarnation ; to reveal to them the great truths of the
Christian revelation; to bring to the minds of the apostles
whatever Christ had said unto them, and to afford a miracu
lous attestation to the truth of their testimony. What right
have we to assume that because St. Paul was put in trust
with the Gospel and supernaturally assisted in the discharge
of that trust — so that when he treated of Gospel truth his
assertions were to be received not as the ' word of man, but of
God ' — or because when he gave commands for the regulation
of the Churches, fthe things which he wrote unto them were
the Lord's ;' that he was inspired with a supernatural know
ledge of chronology or history without the smallest support
for such an assumption in one single assertion in the New
Testament. His Old Testament chronology might have been
that which he had learned in the school of Gamaliel. If he
had learned a system of chronology there, there is nothing in
his assertions concerning his own inspiration, or in the
promises of our Lord, which requires us to believe that the
defects of Gamaliel's chronology would be corrected by in
spiration." [The Nature and Extent of Divine Inspiration, by
the Rev. C. A. Row, p. 227.)

z 2

340 NOTES 5—7. [Lect.

NOTE 5, p. 1 6.
" It [the modern school of thought] is no longer exclu
sively negative and destructive, but it is on the contrary in
tensely positive, and in its moral aspect intensely Christian.
It clusters round a system of essentially Christian conceptions
— equality, fraternity, the suppression of war, the elevation of
the poor, the love of truth, and the diffusion of liberty. It
revolves round the ideal of Christianity, and represents its
spirit without its dogmatic system and its supernatural narra
tives. Prom both of these it unhesitatingly recoils, while
deriving all its strength and nourishment from Christian
ethics." (Lechy, History of Rationalism, vol. i. p. 185.)
" The general bias of the intellect of the age is in the direc
tion of rationalism. In other words, there is a strong pre
disposition to value the spirit and moral element of Chris
tianity, but to reject dogmatic systems, and more especially
miraculous narratives." [Ibid. p. 191.)

NOTE 6, p. 16.
" The moral progress of mankind can never cease to be
distinctively and intensely Christian, so long as it consists of
a gradual approximation to the character of the Christian
Founder. There is indeed nothing more wonderful in the
history of the human race than the way in which that ideal
has traversed the lapse of ages, acquiring a new strength and
beauty with each advance of civilisation,, and infusing its
benevolent influence into every sphere of thought and action."
[Lechy, History of Rationalism, vol. i. p. $$5-)
" Passages eloquently descriptive of the character of Christ,
from Rousseau, Morell, Theodore Parker, and Greg, will be
found in the Authors." [The Bible and its Critics, the Boyle
Lectures for 1861.)

NOTE 7, p. 16.
"When I say that fthe Bible contains God's word,' I
do not mean, as some have supposed, that we may pick and
choose among the contents of the Bible — that we can separate
those books or portions of the Bible which are God's word

I] NOTE 8. 341
from those books and portions which are not. I mean that
throughout the Bible the word of God will be heard by the
listening ear and the obedient heart, reproving, exhorting,
instructing, comforting; but I say that this word is 'the
Spirit and the life' which breathes in the written words,
not the mere ' flesh ' or letter of the words themselves. ' The
flesh profiteth nothing ; the words that 1 speak unto you, they
are spirit and they are life.' And as we read the sacred text,
we can feed by faith upon this bread of life, and feel our
strength renewed, and the daily waste supplied of our spiritual
substance ; while yet our spirits have no power to assimilate
the mere human elements, which are of the earth earthy,
which must pass away, having no fitness in themselves to
sustain the life of our souls." [Natal Sermons, by the Rt. Rev.
John William Colenso, B.B., p. 8.)

NOTE 8, p. 1 8.
" It was the opinion of Chrysostom, Theodoret, and Theo-
phylact, that the doctrines of the Gospel are described in
Scripture under this term [boyixara], and the opinion is shared
by many critics of later times."
The state of the case is ably summed up in Professor
Eadie's Commentary on the Ephesians : —
" Tov vojxov t&v evroX&v ev Soyjuowu. I take this phrase
as a graphic description of the ceremonial law. But the
meaning and connection of ev boyp.aai have been much dis
puted. It has been regarded as the means by which the
law has been abolished, to wit, 'by doctrines' — Christian
doctrines or precepts. Such is the reading of the Arabic
and Vulgate, the Syriac being doubtful, and such is the
view of Chrysostom, Theodoret, Theophylact, Aretius, Gro
tius, Estius, Hammond, Zeger, a Lapide, Bengel, Fritzsche,
Olshausen, and Scholz. Winer, in his third edition, pro
poses this view, but renounced it in his fourth (§§ 31, 32).
Thus Chrysostom says, boyixara yap KaAei tt\v ¦nia-riv. Theo
doret and Theopylact follow, while ffieumenius vindicates
the use of the word as applied to Christ's teaching, by
quoting from the Sermon on the Mount such phrases as
fI say unto you;' these being proofs of authoritative dic
tation and warranting the truth propounded to be called
boyna. To this theory there are insuperable objections."
(p. 163.)

342 NOTES 9—11. [Lect.

NOTE 9, p. 1 8.
The five places where the word boyp.a is used in the New
Testament are : Luke ii. i, effiXOe boyjxa -napa. Kaiaapos ; Acts
xvi. 4, TrapebCbovv avrols <\>v\acraeiv ra boyp.ara ra K€Kpip.eva vrro
r&v cmoa-ToXaiv, and Acts xvii. J, ovtoi iravres anivavn r&v
boyp.drwv KaCaapos TTpa<raov<n ; Eph. ii. 15* tov vop,ov rSv
evrok&v ev boypacn ; Col. ii. 14, et;akefyas to KaO-1 rjp.&v xeLPo-
ypa<pov rots boypaviv. In the first three instances the sense
of command is indisputably conveyed.
NOTE 10, p. 18.
" Hence it was that Christians were called sometimes ol
tov Soy/xaroy, ' men of the faith' — meaning the faith of Christ.
As in the rescript of Aurelian the Emperor, against Paulus
Samosatensis, recorded by Eusebius (lib. vii. c. 30.), the bishops
of Italy and Rome are styled e-nlo-KOTtoi tov boypaTos, c bishops
of the faith,' that is, the Christian faith." [Bingham's Chris
tian Antiquities, vol. i. bk. i. s. 9.)
NOTE 11, p. 22.
" And the grand example of St. Paul, in the mighty
conduct which was waged in his day, may be a source of
comfort and support to the weakest of us, who in our small
measure are called to take part in the great religious move
ment of our own time. However personally insignificant
the combatants in the conflict of the present day, compared
with the great Apostle of old, yet the conflict itself is the
same — one which, in the lapse of time, is continually reversed
again and again. It is, as in his days, the battle of the spirit
against the letter, against the exclusiveness and narrowness —
the bondage — of the Law. We are told that ' whatever
was written aforetime in the Scriptures, was written for our
learning,' and St. Paul himself had to be taught by his own
experience that the disciple was not to be above his Lord;
that if they had ' called the master of the house Beelzebub;'
if, out of a blind zeal for God, they had said of that holy and
loving One, ' He hath a devil, He is mad, He decei.veth the

I] NOTE 12. 343
people,' — they would not spare those of His household. It is
an act of humble faith, my brethren, and not of arrogance ;
it is making that very use of the Bible, which, as Christians,
it is our duty and privilege to make of it, if we, in this our
day, while doing (as we trust) God's work of any kind, find
comfort and support in studying the great examples of the
past. The Bible is never so well read and understood, as
in' the light of experience." (Natal Sermons, pp. 5, 6. Ser
mon V, on the Comfort of the Scriptures.)
" Our duty to God is not now to fear Him, and to love
Him, and to walk in His ways, but to hold certain opinions
about Him, to maintain the truth of certain old histories
about Him. We submit to be sermonised on Sundays, pro
vided our sermons will not interfere with enlightened pru
dence and political economy on week days. Nay, week after
week, we can see ' the cures of human souls ' advertised for
sale in the columns of our religious newspapers, and no shame
burns on our cheeks. Surely, surely if there be any imper
sonal Spirit of Evil, he may sit by with folded hands, con
tented to spare interference in a state of things which no
help of his can improve." {Fronde's Nemesis of Faith, Preface,
p. 12.)

NOTE \% p. 30.
" These men [the great discoverers of nature's laws] have
been, without exception, believers in dogmatic faith." This
statement is necessarily based on the biographies of the illus
trious dead, in this department of human labour. Of men
still living it would be equally unbecoming, unsafe, and pre
mature to speak. In support of the statement, I quote the
great authority of the Historian of the Inductive Sciences : —
" This step so much resembles the mode in which one intel
ligent being understands and apprehends the conceptions of
another, that we cannot be surprised if those persons in
whose minds such a process has taken place, have been most
ready to acknowledge the existence and operations of a super
intending Intelligence, whose ordinances it was their employ
ment to study. When they had just read a sentence of the
table of the laws of the universe, they could not doubt
whether it had had a legislator. When they had deciphered
in them a comprehensive and substantial truth, they could

344 NOTE 12. [Lect.
not believe that the letters had been thrown together by
chance ; they could not but readily acknowledge, that what
their faculties had enabled them to read, must have been
written by some higher and profounder mind. And accord
ingly, we conceive, it will be found on examining the works
of those to whom we owe our knowledge of the laws of
nature, and especially of the wider and more comprehensive
laws, that such persons have been strongly and habitually
impressed with the persuasion of a Divine Purpose and Power,
which had regulated the events which they had attended to,
and ordained the laws which they had detected.
" To those who have pursued science without reaching the
rank of discoverers; who have possessed a derivative knowledge
of the laws of nature which others had disclosed, and have
employed themselves in tracing the consequences of such
laws, and systematising the body of truth thus produced, the
above description does not apply ; and we have not, therefore,
in these cases the same ground for anticipating the same
frame of mind. If among men of science of this class, the
persuasion of a Supreme Intelligence has at some period been
less vivid and less universal than in that higher class of
which we have before spoken, the fact, so far as it has existed,
may perhaps in some degree be accounted for 
" The names of great discoverers are not very numerous.
The sciences which we may look upon as having reached, or at
least approached their complete and finished form, are Me
chanics, Hydrostatics, and Physical Astronomy. Galileo is the
father of modern Mechanics. Copernicus, Kepler, and Newton
are the great names which mark the progress of Astronomy.
Hydrostatics shared in a great measure the fortunes of the
related science of Mechanics ; Boyle and Pascal were the
persons mainly active in developing its more peculiar prin
ciples. The other branches of knowledge which belong to
Natural Philosophy, as Chemistry and Meteorology, are as yet
imperfect, and perhaps infant sciences, and it would be rash to
presume to select in them names of equal pre-eminence with
those above mentioned. But it may hot be difficult to show,
with sufficient evidence, that the effect of science upon the
authors of science is, in these subjects, as in the former ones,
far other than to alienate their minds from religious trains of
thought, and a habit of considering the world as the work of
God." [Astronomy and General Physics considered with reference
to Natural Theology, ly the Rev. W. WheweU, M.A., London,
1833 ; bk. iii. c. v. pp. 307-309.)

II] NOTES 1, 2. 345

LECTURE II
NOTE 1, p. 41.
The mistake commented upon in the lecture forms the all-
pervading fallacy of Mr. Lecky's " History of Rationalism in
Europe." Neither is any reference made to the dogmatic
records of the faith ; nor is there any recognition of the
place which the Scriptures claim to hold with reference to
the Church and to her doctrines, and which the unanimous
teaching of the Church herself has ever consistently assigned
to them. In vol. i. p. 396, for instance, the Protestant doc
trine of Justification and the Romish doctrine of Justification
are placed upon precisely the same footing as two forms of
speculative belief equally deserving of consideration. Thus
the popular belief in witchcraft is confounded with a belief
in the existence of a spiritual and unseen world. (Vol. i. ch. i.)
All the evils that have sprung for the last two thousand years
from the heat of men's passions and tempers in matters of
religion are considered to be the natural and necessary pro
duct of a dogmatic faith. (Vol. i. ch. iv. p. 1, and vol. ii. ch. iv.
p. 2.) The same fallacy pervades the entire reasoning. A
reference to the Scriptures would have shown that the Romish
doctrine of Justification by Works, the popular superstition
which believes in witchcraft and magic, and the natural out
going of men's hot passions in controversy whatever may
have been its special subject, are not only foreign to the true
genius of Christianity, but opposed to its positive letter.
Mr. Lecky's views may probably have remained unchanged
in any case, but it was equally desirable for himself and for
his readers that in a history of opinion the theory of Chris
tianity should be accurately stated.
NOTE 2, p. 41.
See Homily XIV., On the Peril of Idolatry, Part iii.

346 NOTE 3. [Lect.
NOTE 3, p. 55.
The following list forms a very inadequate attempt to pre
sent in one view the unanimous testimony of the Christian
writers. In some cases where fragments of works alone re
main we find only a phrase or two on which to rest, as in the
fragments of Papias, Lucius, and others of the early authors.
But in most cases the testimony is singularly full and explicit,
and derives great force from the strong diversity of doctrinal
sentiment often existing among the writers. Thus we find
the same devout belief in an authoritative revelation, and the
same assertion that it is to be found within the limits of
Holy Scripture, in Abelard and his opponent Roscellinus, in
Berengarius and his judge Lanfranc. The reference given to
Durandus is an illustration, for the treatise to which the re
ference is given supports in the most extreme form the cor
poral presence of our Lord's body and blood in the Eucharistie
elements. Yet, however widely the great divines of the
Church have differed on separate points of doctrine, no con
troversial advantage led them to compromise the truth of an
authoritative and dogmatic revelation entrusted by God to
the keeping of the Church and embodied in Holy Scripture.
I have not quoted any passages in detail beyond those
given in the body of the lecture, partly to save space, and
partly because detached passages are never wholly satisfactory
to a student who desires to ascertain for himself the actual
facts of the case. As I have carefully verified every quota
tion, I trust that no inaccuracies will be found to have crept
into the list. I have found great difficulty in selecting one
passage in each case from the many marked in my common
place book, and can only express the hope that any student
who takes the trouble to look into the matter will not rest
satisfied without making a further examination for himself.
A.D.
Circa. 97 dementis Kom. Epist. i. c. xiii. — Apostolic Fathers. Edinb.
1867.
1 01 Ignatii, Epist. ad Epbes. s. xvi. — Corpus Ignatian. Lond. 1849.

II] NOTE 3. 347
A.D.
Circa. 1 08 Polycarpi, Epist. ad Philip, s. vii.— Routh's Scrip. Eccl. Opusc.
117 Hermas, Shepherd of, Simil. viii. — p. 397, tom. iii. Apost.
Fathers. Edinb. 1867.
125 Quadratus, apud Euseb. Eccl. Hist. lib. iv. c. iii. — p. 307,
tom. xx. Paris 1867.
1 30 Barnabas, Epistle of — ch. ix. p. 115, Apost. Fathers, Edinb.
1867.
130 Papise Fragmenta, s. i.— p. 8, Kouth's Keliquiae Sacrae.
140 Justini Mart. Dial. c. Tryph. s. 48. — p. 345, tom. i. Paris
1842.
164 Luciani Oratio. — p. 5, vol. iv. Routh's Reliquiae Sacrae.
167 Irenaeus adv. Haereses, lib. i. c. x. s. 1. — tom. vii. Paris 1857.
170 Theophilus Antioch. ad Autolyc, lib. ii. c. 22. — p. 338, vol. iii.
Routh's Reliq. Sac.
170 Dionysii Corinth. — p. 181, vol. i. Routh's Reliq. Sac.
170 Melito Sard. Excerp. ex Novo Test. — p. 46, vol. iv. Routh's
Reliq. Sac.
170 Hegesippus de Judae Nepot. — p. 217, vol. i. Routh's Reliq.
Sac.
172 Tatiani Oratio c. Graecos, s. xii. — p. 16, tom. ii. Paris
1842.
180 Atheuagorae Legat. pro Christ, s. vii. — p. 903, tom. vi. Paris
1857.
188 Asterius Urbanus apud Eusebium Eccl. Hist. lib. v. c. 16. —
tom. xx. Paris 1857.
190 Serapio Antioch. apud Eusebium Hist. Eccl. lib. vi. c. 12. —
tom. xx. Paris 1857.
190 Polycrates Ephes. apud Eusebium Hist. Eccl. lib. v. c. 24.
— tom. xx. Paris 1857.
192 Clementis Alex. Paedag. lib. i. c. 6. — p. 341, Routh's
Reliq. Sac.
192 Tertulliani de Virg. Vel. c. i. — p. 889, tom. ii. Paris 1844.
203 Minutius Felix, c. xxxviii. — p. 357, tom. iii. Paris 1844.
220 Africani Epist. ad Aristid. — p. 337, vol. ii. Routh's Reliq. Sac.
220 Hippolyti c. Haeres. Noeti, s. ix. — p. 64, Routh's Scrip. Eccl.
Opusc.
230 Origen de Principiis, lib. i. s. 2. — p. 115, tom. vi. Paris
1844.

348 NOTE 3. [Lect.
A.D.
Circa. 247 Dionysius Alex, apud Eusebium Hist. Eccl. lib. vii. c. 24.
— tom. xx. Paris 1857.
248 Cypriani Epist. ad Jubaianum, s. xv. — p. 149, tom. iii. Paris
1844.
250 Lucii Epist. s. iv. — p. 981, tom. iii. Paris 1842.
250 Novatianus de Trinitate. — p. 117, Oxford 1723.
250 Gregorii Neocaes. Anathematismi. — p. 42, Paris 1622.
250 Caius Presb. apud Eusebium Hist. Eccl. lib. v. s. 28. — p. 343,
vol. v. Routh's Reliq. Sac.
250 Crescens a Certa apud S. Cyprianum. — p. 350, vol. v. Routh's
Reliq. Sac.
250 Lucius a Thebeste Epist. — p. 334, vol. v. Routh's Reliq. Sac.
250 Gregorii Neocaes. Orat. Panyg. ad Origen. — p. 351, vol. v.
Routh's Reliq. Sac.
250 Dionysii Roman. Epist. adv. Sabell. — p. 351, vol. v. Routh's
Reliq. Sac.
250 Archelai Caschar. Disp. c. Manete. — p. 351, vol. v. Routh's
Reliq. Sac.
250 Theonae Epist. ad Lucianum. c. vii. — p. 443, vol. iii. Routh's
Reliq. Sac.
250 Phileae Epist. ad Thmutas apud Eusebium Hist. Eccl. lib. viii.
s. 10. — tom. xx. Paris 1857.
256 Firmiliani Ep. ad Cyprianum, s. xiii. — p. 245, Routh's Scrip.
Eccl. Opusc.
300 Methodius de Resurrect. §§ i. ii. — p. 267, tom. xviii. Paris
1857.
300 Arnobius adv. Gentes, lib. i.— p. 274, Routh's Scrip. Eccl.
Opusc.
303 Lactantius de Ira. Dei, c. i. s. 6. — p. 80, vol. vii. Paris 1844.
312 Chrysostomi Horn, in Mathae. Horn, xlvii. — p. 643, Pusey's
Library of the Fathers.
315 Eusebius Caesar. Prol. ad Orat. in laud. Const. — tom. xx.
Paris 1857.
320 Alexandri Alexand. Epist. ad Alexand. s. x. — p. 25, tom. xviii.
Paris 1842.
325 Eustathius in Hexaem. Comm. — p. 3, London 1629.
326 Athanasii Festal Epp. Ep. xxxix.— Appendix, p. 137, Pusey's
Library of the Fathers.

II] NOTE 3. 349
A.D,
Circa.340 J. Firmicus Maternus De Erro. Prof. Relig. cap. xx. — p. 1025,
tom. xii. Paris 1845.
35° Cyrilli Hiersol. Cateches. v. s. 13. — p. 221, Paris 1842.
354 Hilarii Lib. de Synodis. — p. 29, tom. ix. Paris 1844.
366 Damasi Symbo. apud Hierony. tom ii. — Corpus Confession,
Geneve 1654.
368 Epiphanius adv. Haeres. lib. ii. Haer. 55. s. iii.— p. 978, tom.
xii. Paris 1858.
368 Optatus de Schism. Donat. lib. v. s. 3. — p. 1020, tom. xi.
Paris 1845.
370 Gregorius Nyssen. de Anima.— p. 50, tom. xlvi. Paris 1858.
370 Ephrem Cyrus, Rythm. ag. Disputers, lib. vi. — Pusey's Library
of the Fathers.
370 Basilii Epist. ad Sozopolit. s. iii. — tom. xxxii. Paris 1857.
373 Macarii Egypt. Horn, xxxix. s. 1. — p. 762, tom. xxxiv. Paris
i860.
374 Ambrosius de Fide, lib. ii. c. vi. — p. 537, tom. vi. Paris
1845.
378 Hieronymi ad Paulam Epist. Ep. xxx. s. 6. — p. 413, tom. xx.
Paris 1845.
385 Theophili Alex. Epis. Pasch. i. a. § vi. — p. 617, tom. vii. Gal-
land. Vet. Patr.
390 Rufini Aquil. Coram, on Symb. s. xxxvi. — p. 375, tom. xxi.
Paris 1849.
396 Augustinus de Civit. Dei, lib. xix. c. 18. — p. 348, tom. ii.
Colon. 1850.
398 Chrysostomi Horn, in loan. Horn. xxi. — p. 127 ; Horn. xxx. —
p. 174 ; Horn, xxxii. — p. 187, tom. xii. Paris 1859.
412 Cyrilli Alex, de Trinitate, c. i. — p. 1121, tom. Ixxvii. Paris
1859-
412 Isidori Pelus. Epp. lib. iv. c. cxiv. — tom. Ixxvii. Paris
i860.
423 Theordoreti Haer. Fab. lib. v. c. i. — p. 481. Halae 1769.
430 Cassianus de Incarnat. lib. vii. c. 22. — tom. i. Paris 1846.
434 Vincentii Lirin. Commonit. lib. ii. s. 29. — p. 677, tom. i.
Paris 1846.
440 Salvianus de Gubern, lib. iii. s. 40. — tom. liii. Paris 1845.
444 Prosper. — Goode's Divine Rule, vol. iii. p. 207.

350 NOTE 3. [Lect.
A.D.
Circa. 483 Felix IV. de Eccl. Raven. Const.— p. 13, torn. lxv. Paris
1847.
500 Fulgentius deFide, lib. i. s. 4.— p. 675, tom. lxv. Paris 1847.
535 Cosmae Indicop. Typograph. Christ, lib. vii. s. 292. — p. 374,
tom. lxxxviii. Paris 1859.
561 Anastasius Sinait. Just. Viae Dux. — p. 100, Ingols. 1606.
587 Venantii Fortunati Exp. Fidei Cath. de Trinit.— p. 5867,
tom. lxxxviii. Paris 1850.
590 Gregorius Magnus. — Goode's Divine Rule, vol. iii. p. 208.
636 Isidores, Hispanl. Etymolog. lib. vi. c. i. s. 50. — tom. viii.
Paris 1850.
700 Sergii Epist. Life of Bede. — Preface, p. xv, Church His
torians.
730 Bedae Ven. Epist. to Ecgbert, s. xvii.— p. 663, vol. i. p. ii.
Church Historians.
745 Bonifacius. — Cuthberto Epist. p. 143. Giles 1844.
770 Pauli Deacon. Ascetica, Horn, xii.— p. 11 79, torn. xcv. Paris
1850.
804 Alcuinus adv. Haeres Felicis, §§ 57, 58. — p. 112, tom. ci.
Paris 1 851.
830 John Scotus Erigena, Horn, in Prol. S. Evang. S. Joan. lib.
v. — tom. cxxi. Paris 1851.
830 Agabardi Epist. ad Fredegisium, s. ix. — p. 164, tom. civ. Paris
1851.
880 Photii Amphiloch. Quaest. clxxxix. — Wolfii Philolog. Ham
burg 1735.
888 Anastasii Rom. Syllogismi. — p. 680, tom. cxxix. Paris 1853.
1030 Othlonus Mon. de cursu Spirit, c. ix. — p. 169, tom. cxlvi.
Paris 1853.
1044 Lanfrancus, Lib. de Corp. c. Berengarium. — p. 243, Paris
1548.
1060 Durandus de Corp. et Sang. Christi, pt. iv. s. 11. — p. 1391,
tom. cxlix. Paris 1853.
1090 Roscellini Epist. ad Abelardum. — p. 198, Ed. Schmeller.
1090 Abelardi Epist. at Heloisam. — pp. 377, 8, tom. clxxviii. Paris
1853-
noo Anselmus de Cone. Presci. Dei. — p. 528, tom. clviii. Paris
i853-

II] NOTE 3. 351

A.D.
Circa.

noo Alexander de Ales, de modo S. Scripturae, pt. i. Quest, i. —
tom. i. Lugduni 15 15.
1 1 50 Brunonis Exp. to 2 Tim. iii. 16. — p. 470, tom. cliii. Paris
1854.
1 153 Bernardi Serm. in Cantica. Ser. lxii. s. 4. — p. 1077, tom.
clxxxiii. Paris 1854.
1 156 Petrus Lombardus de Myst. Trinit. lib. i. s. i. — p. 13, tom.
cxci. Paris 1548.
1250 Thomae Aquin. Summa. Theolog. p. 1, quaest. i. art. i. — p.
459, tom. i. Paris 1841.
1400 John Gerson de Vita Spirit. — quoted by Cosin, vol. iii. p. 35,
Anglo-Cath. Lib.
1520 Luther on the Galatians, ch. i. v. 6. — Middleton.
1520 Ph. Melanchthon, Resp. ad Clerum Col. — Bp. Cosin, vol. iii.
p. 39, Anglo-Cath. Lib.
1520 Erasmus on Jude iii. — Edit. 1658, November.
1526 Tyndale, Answer to Sir T. More. — p. 100, Parker Society's
Edit.
1535 Latimer, Bp., Sermon on Rom. xv. 4. — p. 59, Parker Soc.
Edit.
1535 Bullinger, Decades, I. Ser. i. p.i. — p. 37, vol. i. Parker Soc.
Edit.
1536 Calvin's Institutes, bk. ii. ch. vi. 64. — Edinb. 1863.
1540 Bale, Bp., Image of Both Churches. — p. 252, Parker Soc. Edit.
1541 Becon, Probations. — p. 319, Parker Soc. Edit.
1550 Bradford, Pref. to Places of Artopaeus. — p. 5, Parker Soc. Edit.
1 550 Hooper, Bp., Answer to Bishop of Winchester. — p. 1 1 1, Parker
Soc. Edit.
1550 Philpot, Arrjh., Trans, of Curio's Defence. — p. 357, Parker
Soc. Edit.
1550 Cranmer, Archbp., Confut. of Unwritten Verities. — pp. 52, 64,
Remarks, Parker Soc. Edit.
1550 Bacon, Nov. Org. item in Psal. xix. — Oxf. 1855.
1550 Coverdale on Acts ii. 5-1 1. — p. 394, Parker Soc. Edit.
1560 Nowell's Catechism. — Enchirid. Theologicum, vol. ii.
1560 Jewell's Apol. p. i. — pp. 57, 58, Parker Soc. Edit.
1560 Parker, Archbp., Address to Convocation, 1572. — Goode's
Divine Rule, vol. iii. p. 345.

352 NOTE 3. [Lect.
A.D.
Circa.1560 Beza on Jude iii. — Geneve 1580.
1562 Calfhill's Answer to Martial. — p. 27, Parker Soc. Edit.
1562 Homilies of Church of England, Homily i.
1 57 1 Canons.
1 5 7 1 Reformatio Legum Eccl. — Goode's Divine Rule, vol. iii. p . 3 4 4 .
1579 Whittaker, Add. appended to Disputations on Scripture. — p.
705, Parker Soc. Edit.
1580 Fulke, Defence of the S. Scriptures, p. v. — p. 169, Parker
Soc. Edit.
1594 Hooker, Eccl. Polity, bk. ii. ch. v. — p. 2o7,Ed. 1821.
1596 Overall, Convocation Book, bk. ii. c. viii. — p. 191, Anglo-Cath.
Libr.
1600 Andrewes' Serm. on Temptation of Christ. — p. 504, Anglo-
Cath. Lib.
1606 Field, of the Church. — p. 151, ch. xxii. vol. iii. Eccl. Hist. Soc.
1850.
1619 Morton, Bp., Catholic Appeal. — lib. iii. ch. xvi. s. iii. London
1610.
1620 Donne, Serm. clvii. on 2 Pet. iii. 13. — vol. vi. Lond. 1839.
1620 Laud, Archbp., Conference with Fisher, § 28.— p. 180,
Oxf. 1839.
1620 Ussher, Principles of Christian Religion. — p. 5, Dublin 1843.
1625 Grotius de Verit. Relig. Christ, lib. iii. c. i.
1630 Jackson, Thos., The Eternal Truth of the Scriptures, b. i. s. 2.
ch. ii. — p. 12, Oxf. 1844.
1630 Cosin, Sermon xviii. on John xx. 9. — p. 251, vol. i. Anglo-
Cath. Lib.
1630 Hall, Old Religion, Ep. Dedicatory. — p. 310, vol. xvii. Gibson's
Preservative, Lond. 1849.
1640 Hammond on 2 Tim. iii. 16, and Jude 3. — pp. 711, 847,
Lond. 1 86 1.
1640 Reynolds' Serm. xiv. on Phil. iii. 15. — vol. v. p. 152, Lond.
1826.
1649 Thorndike on the Right of the Church, ch. v. p. 601. — vol. i.
pt. ii. Anglo-Cath. Lib.
1650 Taylor, Dissuasive from Popery, ch.i. s. i. — Ed. 1844,
1653 Bramhall, Answer to MilletiSre. — p. 49, vol. i. Anglo-Cath.
Lib.

II] NOTES 4, 5. 353
A.D.
Circa. 1660 Barrow, Truth of the Christian Religion, Serm. xiii. — p. 8,
vol. v. Oxf. 1830.
1662 Pearson on the Creed, Art. i. — pp. 19, 20, Lond. 1848.
1670 Beveridge, Expos, of Art. VI. — p. 205, vol. ix. Lond. 1824.
1670 South, Serm. on Matt. v. 8. — p. 154, vol. vii. Oxf. 1823.
1673 Tillotson, The Rule of Faith, pt. i. s. iii. s. 8. — p. 536, vol. i.
Lond. 1728.
1680 Bull, Primitive Tradition of the Cath. Faith, Introd. — p. 209,
vol. iii. Anglo-Cath. Lib.
1680 Stillingfleet, Rational Account, c. ii. — p. 90. Oxf. 1844.
1689 Burnet, Exp. Art. VI.— p. 84, Lond. 1836.
1690 Patrick, Discourse on Tradition, pt. ii. s. 1. — Gibson's Pres.
vol. v. Lond. 1 848.
1698 Wilson, Sacra Privata. — pp. no, in, vol. v. Anglo-Cath.
Libr.
1730 Waterland, Doctrine of the Holy Trinity, c. vii. s. 5. — p. 265,
Ed. 1823.
1 8 14 Van Mildert, Bampton Lect., Serm. i. — p. 21, Oxf. 1815.

NOTE 4, p. SI-
The Rev. E. B. Elliott in his " Horae Apocalypticae "
quotes Gibbon's words: " The ruin of the Pagan religion is
described by the Sophists as a dreadful and amazing prodigy ;
which covered the earth with darkness and restored the
ancient dominion of chaos and of night." He adds the
following note : " ko.1 ti p.v6(obes kcu aeibes o-kotos Tvpavvr\<jei ra
em rrjs yrjs KaAAiara. So Eunapius of the fourth century, in
his life of Eustathius, with reference to the then imminent
utter ruin of Paganism."

NOTE 5, p. 63.
" Siquidem nihil utiliter ad salutem spiritualem praedica-
mus quod sacra seriptura spiritus sancte miraculo faecundata
non protulerit aut intra se non contineat. Nam si quid
ratione dicamus aliquando quod in dictis ejus aperte mon-
a a

354 NOTES 6—8. [Lect.
strare aut ex ipsis probare nequimus, hoc modo per illam cog-
noscimus utrim set accipiendum aut respicendum." [Anselm,
Be Concordia Prescieutiae Bei cum libero Arbitrio, vol. i.
P- 193-) NOTE 6, p. 64.
"Sed memento hocpacto incaepi tuae respondere quaestioni,
ut videlicit, si quid dixero quod major non confirmet auctbri-
tas, quamvis illud ratione probare videar, non alia certitudine
accipiat, nisi quia interim mihi ita videtur, donee mi hi melius
aliquo modo revelet. Certus enim sum si quid dico quod
sacrae scripturae absque dubio contradicant, quia falsum est,
nee illud tenere volo, si cognovero." [Anselm, Cur Beus
Homo, c. xviii.) NOTE 7, p. 66.
The whole passage from John Scotus is so full of beauty
that I give it complete. The reference, as well as the refer
ence to the other passages quoted from the Scholastic Divines,
will be found under Note 3.
" Concatenatus quippe est divinae scripturae contextus,
Daedalisque diverticulis et obliquitatibus perplexus. Neque
hoc Spiritus Sanctus invidia. voluit intellegendi, quod absit
existimari, sed studio nostram intelligentiam exercendi, sudo-
risque et inventionis praemii reddendi ; praemium quippe est
in sacr& Scripturi laborantium pura perfectaque intelligentia.
O Domine Jesus nullum aliud praemium, nullam aliam beati-
tudinem, nullum aliud gaudium a te postulo, nisi ut ad puram
absque ullo errore fallacis theoriae verba tua quae per tuum
Sanctum Spiritual inspirata sunt, intelligam. Haec est enim
summa felicitatis meae, finisque perfectae est contemplationis,
quoniam nihil ultra rationabilis anima etiam purissima in-
veniet, quia nihil ultra est. Ut enim, non alibi altius quaereris
quam in verbis tuis, ita non alibi apertius inveniris quam in
eis. Ibi quippe habitas et illuc quaerentes et diligentes te
introducis ; ibi spirituales epulas verae cognitionis electis
tuis praeparas, illic transiens ministras eis." [Horn, in Prolog.
S. Evang. S. Joan., lib. v.)
NOTE 8, p. 68.
References to the principal English Divines will be found
under Note 3.

II] NOTE 9. 355

NOTE 9, p. 73.
I do not give the following list as an exhaustive enumera
tion, but as containing the best-known Confessions : —
1 Fragments of a Creed in Irenaeus — lib. i. c. i.
2 The Creed of Origin : irepl apx&v — Praefat.
3 Fragments of a Creed in TertuUian — De Vel. Virg.
4 Fragments of a Creed in Cyprian — Epist. ad Maricon.
5 Creed of Gregory of Neo Caesarea — Opera, p. 1, apud Gregory
Nyssen, tom. iii.
6 The Creed of Lucian the Martyr — recorded by Athanasius,
Socrates, and Hilary.
7 The Creed of the Apostolical Constitutions — lib. vii. c. xiii.
8 The Creed of Jerusalem — partly preserved in St. James'
Liturgy.
9 The Creed of Caesarea — given by Eusebius.
10 The Creed of Alexandria — recorded by Socrates.
1 1 The Creed of Antioch— recorded by Cassian.
1 2 The Apostles' Creed.
1 3 The Creed of Aquileia — given by Ruffinus.
14 The Creed of Damasus — given by Jerome.
15 The Nicene Creed.
1 6 The two Creeds of Epiphanius.
1 7 Nicene Creed as completed at the Council of Constantinople.
18 The Athanasian Creed.
19 The Huguenot Confession of La Rochelle.
20 Waldensium Confessio, 1120 a.d.
21 Confessio Gennadii <fcc, 1453 a.d.
22 Helvetian Confessio Simplex, 1566 a.d.
23 Helvetian, Confessions of, 1536 and 1581 a.d.
24 Basiliensis Confessio.
25 Jewell's Apology.
26 Articles of the Church of England.
27 Ecclesiarum Belgicarum Confessio — Dort, 16 18 a.d.
28 Confessio in Synodo Czengerina, 1570 a.d.
29 Consensus Majoris et Minoris Poloniae, &c, 1573 and 1643 a.d.
30 Confessio Tetrapolitana, 1581 a.d.
31 Augustana Confessio a Ph. Melanchthon, 1534 a.d.
a a 2

356 NOTES 10—12. [Lect.
32 Confessio Saxonicarum Ecclesiarum, 1551 a.d.
33 Confessio Christopheri Ducis Wurtembergensis, 1561 a.d.
34 Confessio Frederici III., 1577 a.d.
35 Confessio, &c, Regni Bohemiae, 1535 a.d.
36 Confessio Basiliensis, 1647 a.d.
37 Cyrilli Patriarchae Constantin. Confessio, 162 1 A.D.
38 Westminster Confession.
39 The Heidelberg Confession, 1575 a.d.
40 Scottica Confessio, 1560 a.d.
41 Dublin Confession, 161 5 a.d.
42 Anabaptist Confession, 1646 a.d.
43 Confession of the Quakers, 1673 a.d.
44 The Brownist Confessions, 1596 a.d.
45 The Baptist Confession of 161 1, 1643, 1677, 1689 a.d.
46 The Independent or Savoy Confession, 1658 A.d.
47 Creed of Pope Pius IV

NOTE 10, p. 76.
The papal decree establishing the dogma of the Immacu
late Conception was dated December 8, 1 854 a.d.

NOTE 11, p. 76.
The doctrine of a purgatorial fire was first suggested by
Origen; was doubtfully referred to by Augustine with refer
ence to 1 Cor. iii. 1 5 ; was first positively asserted by Pope
Gregory -I; was reduced to a system in the thirteenth century
by Thomas Aquinas; and firmly established as a dogma of
the Church for the first time by the Council of Trent in
1563 A.D. NOTE 12, p. 76.
Communion in one kind was decreed by the Council of
Constance, 1414 a.d. In the eleventh session it was deter
mined that " Christ did institute this sacrament in both
kinds, and that the faithful and the Primitive Church did

II] NOTES 13, 14. 357
receive in both kinds ; yet a practice being reasonably brought
in to avoid some dangers and scandals, they appoint the
custom to continue of consecrating in both kinds, and of
giving to the laity only in one kind, since Christ was entire
and truly under each kind." [Quoted by Burnet on Article
XXX.) NOTE 13, p. 76.
The doctrine of transubstantiation is ordinarily referred to
Paschasius Radbert, a.d. 831. Bishop Cosin, however, ar
gues that there is nothing in his book "that favours the tran
substantiation of the bread, or its destruction or removal."
[History of Transubstantiation.) Bertram, Aelfric (Archbishop
of York), and Berengarius wrote against Paschasius. The
term 'transubstantiation' cannot claim an earlier date than
the beginning of the twelth century. The Council of La-
teran in a.d. 1216 gave formal authorisation both to the term
and to the doctrine.

NOTE 14, p. 76.
" As to the number ' seven ' insisted upon by the Church
of Rome we cannot find it in the writings of the Fathers.
Peter Lombard is said to have first devised it in the twelfth
century; and from him it was adopted generally by the
Schoolmen. It was laid down with authority in a decree to
the Arminians sent from the Council of Florence, 1439, which
was only in the name of Pope Eugenius. It was then con
firmed by the provincial Council of Sens, otherwise called the
Council of Paris, a.d. 1528, after that by the Council of
Trent a.d. 1547. It finally stands as part of the Creed of
Pope Pius IV." (Bishop Harold Browne on the Articles, Art.
XXV.)

358 NOTES 15, 16. [Lect.

NOTE 15, p. 76.
" The Ecclesiastical Councils found it necessary at length
to set limits to the licentious superstition of those ignorant
wretches, who, with a view to have still more friends at court
— for such were their gross notions of things — were daily
adding new saints to the list of their celestial mediators. They
accordingly declared by a solemn decree, that no departed
Christian should be considered as a member of the saintly
order, before the bishop in a provincial council and in
presence of the people had pronounced him worthy of that
distinguished honour. ... It is true we have no example of
any person solemnly sainted by the Bishop of Rome alone be
fore the tenth century, when Udalric, Bishop of Augsburg,
received this dignity in a formal manner from John XV."
[Mosheim's Ecclesiastical History, Cent. ix. vol. ii. ch. iii.
pp. 11, 320. Berwick, 1809.)

NOTE 16, p. 76.
" In the year 606 Boniface III received from the blood
stained hands of Phocas, the upstart tyrant, the title of Uni
versal Bishop, notwithstanding that Gregory the Great, one of
his immediate predecessors, rebuked the pride of John, Patri
arch of Constantinople, for assuming to himself the very same
title ; pronouncing it blasphemous, and as fitly belonging to
none but to a forerunner of Antichrist." (Crier's Epitome of
General Councils, p. 112.)

Ill] NOTES 1, 2. 359

LECTURE III

NOTE 1, p. 85.
" Having retained his native language he gave them an
account of his adventures; and as the Andamanese have no
notions of a deity he acquainted them with the knowledge he
had of God, and would have persuaded his countrymen to
learn of him the way to adore God and to obey His laws ; but
he could make no converts." (Hamilton's Account of the East
Indies, in Pinkerton's Voyages, vol. viii.)
Hamilton's statement has recently been repeated.
On the other side, an account appeared in the " Times "
newspaper, some years since, the date of which I have been
unable to trace, of a visit to the Andaman Islands made by a
party from Calcutta. It was mentioned that at a certain period
of each day the natives retired for some time apart from their
visitors, and it was not unnaturally conjectured that this un
usual act on the part of these untamed savages was connected
with some form of religious worship. The Bushmen, who
are about on a par with the Andamanese in physical and
social condition, if not still lower, possess a traditional belief
in a supreme power beyond the moon, .good and evil spirits,
and the immortality of the soul.

NOTE 2, p. 86.
The bias of modern thought is stated by Mr. Lecky to
dispose men " in history to attribute all kinds of pheno
mena to natural rather than to miraculous causes; and in
theology to esteem succeeding systems the expressions of
the Wants and aspirations of that religious sentiment which
is planted in all men." (History of Rationalism, Introduction,
p. 18.)

360 NOTES 3, 4. [Lect.

NOTE 3, p. 86.
" What do we mean by religion ? Is there in fact any
definition of it possible to be given that will serve all the
occasions under which we have need to employ the term ? I
say, no. There is indeed one meaning of religion that I hope
is common to all of us, as relating to that eminently most
important side of religion which is the one we have to live
under — the practical side. But I protest that when, on the
contrary, religion is considered as a thing that we have ex
pressly to think and to speak about, a quite different meaning
of the term of necessity arises to us. The first is that which
relates to the sense of religion, swaying solely the domain of
feeling; the latter is that which views religion as a thing
largely associated with intellect. The former aspect, common
to us all, is the one that presents itself so long as we simply
consult our own individual consciousness. The definition of
religion that under it we should all agree to give, would be
this : that it consists in an intimate recognition of Divine
guardianship and sympathy, held characteristically in the
manner of an intuition, which thought, so far from aiding,
only disturbs, and for the time, dissipates." [Hennell's
Present Religion, s. ii. p. 24.)
" Christianity was [in the earliest and purest days of the
Church] strictly a religion, that is to say, it consisted of
modes of emotion and not of intellectual propositions."
(Lecky's Rationalism, vol. i. p. 390.)
" A new theology has sprung into being — not a new re
ligion, but a renewing of religion, a return to the simple
Gospel of Jesus Christ stripped of the disfiguring accretions
which later days have fastened upon it." (Butch Biviue,
quoted by Bishop Colenso, Natal Sermons, p. 16.)

NOTE 4, p. 89.
" When we begin to interrogate our consciousness, we find
that there is one out of the whole number of our conceptions
which stands forth, both by it clearness and its uniqueness,
far above all the rest — that, namely, of one infinite and all-
perfect Being. If, then, clear ideas are always objectively true
and the idea of a God is the clearest of all, we must have a

Ill] NOTE 5. 361
direct proof from consciousness itself of the Divine existence
there ; then we perceive the nature and validity of Descartes'
famous psychological argument for the foundation-principle of
natural theology, which may be stated as follows : — The idea
of an all-perfect Infinite Being is without controversy in my
mind. How could it have come there ? Not from the outer
world, not from education, not from any finite source, for
the finite and' imperfect could never give me the conception
of the perfect and the infinite. The effect never transcends
the cause. Hence, if I have incontestably a clear idea of
God, a God must necessarily exist." (Morell's History of
Philosophy, vol. i. p. 170.)

NOTE 5, p. 99.
Mr. Holyoake, the editor of the " Reasoner," a paper which
claims to be " the accredited organ of free-thinking in Great
Britain," alleges the mysteries of Providence to be among the
prominent causes of his unbelief. He says : —
" I once prayed in all the fervency of this same religion.
I believed once all these things. I put up prayers to
heaven which I cannot conceive how humanity could have
refused to respond to — prayers such as if put up to me I
must have responded to. I saw those near and dear to me
perishing around me ; and I learned the secret I care no
longer to conceal, that man's dependence is upon his courage
and his industry, and dependence upon heaven there seems to
be none." (Grant and Holyoake Biscussion.)
" It has long seemed to me the most serious libel on the
character of the Deity, to assume for one moment that He
interferes in human exigencies. A mountain of desolating
facts rises up to shame into silence the hazardous supposition.
Was not the whole land a short time ago convulsed with
horror at the fate of the ' Amazon ' ? There was not a wretch
in the whole country whose slumbering humanity would not
have been aroused in the presence of that dismal calamity.
 How is it that liberty is in chains all over Europe,
if God be still interposing in human affairs?" (Townley and
Holyoake Biscussion.)

362 NOTES 6-8. [Lect.

NOTE 6, p. 107.
Abundant evidence of the true condition of mankind in the
state of savagism will be found in the two volumes published
by the lamented Dr. Livingstone, and the two volumes of
" Explorations in Equatorial Africa," by M. Du Chaillu ;
in Mr. Murray's " Missions in Western Polynesia," and in
other works of the same kind. The opposite view is main
tained principally by Capt. Burton, but evidence of the
strongest kind against it may be gathered from his own
books, "Abbeokuta and the Camaroons Mountain," and
" A Mission to the King of Dahome."

NOTE 7, p. no.
" Those among the philosophical systems of the Greeks
which most completely harmonised with a worldly, thought
less spirit, and were devoid of all susceptibility for the god
like ; those which made pleasure man's highest end, or which
led to a doubt of all objective truth — Epicureanism, as re
presented, for example, by a Lucretius, and scepticism — found
welcome on all sides  In the religious systems of
the several nations which the Roman Empire had brought
into contact with one another, as well as in the doctrines
of the philosophical schools, men saw nothing but a strife
of opinion, without a criterion of truth. The ejaculation
of Pilate, ' What is truth ?' in which he ridiculed all
enthusiasm about such a matter, bespoke the sentiment of
many a noble Roman." (Neander's Church History, Bonn's
ed. vol. i. p. 11.)
NOTE 8, p. m.
Justin Mart. Dialog, c. Tryph. cap. 2 1 8, fol. 1 686, quoted
by Neander, "Church History," vol. i. p. 12.

IV] NOTE 1. 363

NOTE 9, p. ui.
i. Plutarch, "De Defectu Oraculorum," cap. ix.
2. "I must beg you to bear in mind, that I am not
speaking of the religion, but of the theology of our time.
The religious feeling itself, no doubt, varies from age to
age ; but still it is much more nearly the same than is the
case with the theories of thinking men, who, by their reason
ings upon it, produce what is called theology. Sometimes
the religion is behind the theology of an age, sometimes
before it, always more or less independent of it." (See paper
on the " Theology of the Nineteenth Century " in Eraser's
Magazine for February, 1 865.)

LECTUEE IV
NOTE 1, p. 120.
Plotinus claimed to have attained to the intuition of the
Supreme God in the way recommended by Plato, manifested
neither by form nor by idea, but existing in a manner above
all that is intelligible. Porphyry adds to the statement : " I
also. Porphyry, once approached and was united to the Supreme
Deity in the sixty-eighth year of my age." The last words
of Plotinus were : " I am endeavouring to rejoin what is
Divine in me to that which is Divine in the universe." For
a clear sketch of the Alexandrian Platonists, see Douglas'
" History of Philosophy." The ablest modern advocacy
of the soul's intuitive capability of knowing God, is to be
found in Morell's " Philosophy of Religion."

364 NOTES 2, 3. [Lect.

NOTE 2, p. 122.
The word ' natural ' expresses that which belongs to the
constitution of our nature as originally framed by the Creator,
and not necessarily that which falls within the reach of the
unassisted faculties or is agreeable to the inclinations of human
nature as it has existed since the Fall. This distinction is
strongly drawn by Butler in the " Analogy." The religious
knowledge existing prior to the gift of a written revelation
may therefore be natural, inasmuch as it meets the wants
and accords with the instincts of the human soul, and yet
not be natural in the sense that it is the product of unassisted
human nature.

NOTE 3, p. 135.
" Strange conformation of mind ! which can find no ade
quate foundations for its hopes, its worship, its principles
of action in the far-stretching universe, in the glorious
firmament, in the deep full soul, bursting with unutterable
thoughts — yet can rest all, with a trusting simplicity ap
proaching the sublime, on what a book relates of the sayings
and doings of a man who lived eighteen centuries ago."
[Greg's Creed of Christendom, p. 219.)
" This is the state of many men all through life, and
miserable politicians or Churchmen they make, unless by
good luck they are in safe hands and ruled by others, or are
pledged to a course  And sometimes when their
self-importance is hurt, they take refuge in the idea that all
this is a proof that they are unfettered, moderate, dispas
sionate, that they observe the mean, that they are no party
men, when they are, in fact, the most helpless of slaves."
(Holyoake1 's Principles of Secularism, Preface.)
" Reason, which existed before all religion and decides upon
all — else the false can never be distinguished from the true —
seems self-dependent and capable of affording personal direc
tion." (Ibid. p. 4.)

IV] NOTES 4—6. 365

NOTE 4, p. 139.
" Neither by nature nor by human conception is it possible
for me to know things so great and Divine, but by the gift
which then descended from above upon the holy men, who
had no need of rhetorical art, nor of uttering anything in
a contentious or quarrelsome manner, but to present them
selves pure to the energy of the Divine Spirit, in order that
the Divine plectrum itself, descending from heaven, and using
righteous men as an instrument, like a harp or lyre, might
reveal to us the knowledge of things Divine and heavenly."
(Justin Martyr, Hortatory Address to the Greeks, ch. viii. —
p. 294, Ante-Nicene Library; Plea of Athenagoras for the
Christians, ch. vii. — Ibid.)

NOTE 5, p. 140.
" Such speculations as I have quoted respecting the ner
vous fluid, proceeding from some of the greatest philosophers
that ever lived, prove only that hitherto the endeavour to
comprehend the mystery of perception and will, of life and
thought, have been fruitless and vain. Many anatomical
truths have been discovered, but, so far as our survey has yet
gone, no physiological principle. All the trains of physio
logical research which we have followed have begun in exact
examination of organisation and function, and have ended in
wide conjectures and arbitrary hypotheses. The stream of
knowledge, in all such cases, is clear and lively at its outset ;
but, instead of reaching the great ocean of the general truths
of science, it is gradually spread abroad among sands and
deserts till its course can be traced no longer." (WheweU' s
History of the Inductive Sciences, vol. iii. bk. xvii. ch. v. See
also his Philosophy of the Inductive Sciences, vol. i. bk. ix.)

NOTE 6, p. 143.
The feeling has been eloquently expressed by the late
F. Robertson of Brighton. Robertson was one of a small
circle of three who ran our college career together, and of which
I am the only survivor. The earnest affection I ever enter
tained for his person (for he had singular powers of conciliating

366 NOTE 6. [Lect.
affection) has never blinded me to the defects of his theology.
The peculiarity of his opinions on subjects of religious belief
was the subsequent subject of debate during our confidential
intercourse at Brasenose. I have ever been disposed to at
tribute his doctrinal peculiarities to his excessive and almost
morbid dread of what is conventional. In his honest endea
vour to avoid cant, that is, the use of certain familiar phrases
as phrases rather than as expressive of realities, he fell, I think,
into the very fault he dreaded. In morbidly shrinking from
theological phrases because they were old, he lost his grasp of
the great and eternal verities which the Church of Christ,
nearly from apostolic days, has employed them to convey.
The following extract is taken from the third series of his
Sermons : —
" We are feeble, dwarfish, stunted specimens of humanity.
Our best resolves are but withered branches, our holiest deeds
unripe and blunted fruit; but to the Infinite Eye who sees
in the Perfect One the type and assurance of that which shall
be, this dwindled humanity of ours is divine and glorious.
Such are we in the sight of God the Father, as is the very
Son of God Himself. This is what theologians, at least the
wisest of them, meant by ' imputed righteousness.' I do not
mean that all who have written or spoken on the subject had
this conception of it, but I believe they who thought truly
meant this. They did not suppose that in imputing righteous
ness there was a kind of figment, a self-deception in the mind
of God. They did not mean that by an act of will He chose
to consider that every act which Christ did was done by us ;
that He imputed or reckoned to us the baptism in Jordan,
or the victory in the wilderness, and the agony in the garden,
or that He believed, or acted as if He believed, that when
Christ died each one of us died ; but He saw humanity sub
mitted to the law of self-sacrifice, and in the light of that
idea He beholds us as perfect, and is satisfied. The profound
idea contained therefore in the death of Christ is the duty of
self-surrender." (Sermon on 2 Cor. v. 14.)

IV] NOTES 7—9. 367

NOTE 7, p. 147.
This question is discussed at length by the American
Wines in his "Commentary on the Laws of the Ancient
Hebrews." His book has reached a fourth edition. He
strongly supports the repeated and emphatic assertions of the
old Fathers that the ancient philosophers were largely in
debted to the Mosaic writings. Mr. Marsden in his " Influ
ence of the Mosaic Code " maintains the same view.

NOTE 8, p. 147.
See Merivale's " History of the Romans," vol. vi. ch. 54 ;
Jahn's " Hebrew Commonwealth," vol. ii. p. n, s. 8.

NOTE 9, p. 152.
" Every intuition manifests a reality so far as it goes, but
when that reality is only perceived dimly and uncertainly, it
is impossible to get such an expression of it as shall satisfy
the requisitions of certitude, or be adequate as a datum for
logical reasoning. The experience of other minds does not in
this case at once correspond to it ; there is a colouring in it,
or at least in its expression, derived from the idiosyncrasies of
the individual; and the results drawn from it in this its partial
and imperfect form may depart very widely from the truth
itself. Hence the necessity arises for our having certain
criteria by which we may judge whether a given intuition,
when realised and expressed, is so distinct and adequate as to
be immediately recognised by other properly developed minds,
and thus to serve the purpose of a fixed and abiding concep
tion of the objective reality. The three great criteria which
have been oft-times recognised by philosophical thinkers are
distinctness, uniformity, and universality. When an intuition
has attained to such a state that its simplest expression is
recognised as conveying an idea perfectly distinct — an idea
which is invariably the same — an idea, lastly, which is univer
sally drawn forth from the human soul when placed under the
proper conditions of development, and which is finally verified

368 NOTES 1, 2. [Lect.
by the consistency of all its practical deductions, then we
regard it as possessing the marks of certitude, so far, indeed,
as human certitude can at all exist." (Morell's Philosophy of
Religion, ch. x. pp. 301, 302.)

LECTUEE V.

NOTE 1, p. 162.
The systematic construction of the Christian Scriptures has
been treated by the author at length in his " Divine Plan of
Revelation" (Hamilton, Adams, & Co.), being the Boyle
Lecture for 1863. NOTE 2, p. 163.
The passage quoted is from the " Theologische Ethik " of
Dr. Richard Rothe, Professor of Theology at Heidelberg, and
Director of the Protestant Seminary. The following addi
tional extracts will explain the references in the body of the
lecture : —
" Speculative theology must be something essentially dif
ferent from every peculiar form of piety, notwithstanding the
strictness of the speculative method, which is equally in
exorable in every case. For in each form of it the starting-
point of theological speculation, namely, the peculiar determi
nation of the religious consciousness, is essentially different.
There must be, therefore, a speculative theology peculiarly
Christian. But for the same reason also, within the limits of
Christianity there must be an essentially distinct speculative
theology for every peculiar Christian fellowship, since w.e
must suppose that their doctrinal variations rest upon essen
tially peculiar modifications of the universal Christian con
sciousness." (Ibid.)
"Speculative theology, according to the idea of it now
given, is only an individual production. Its starting-point is
the individual religious consciousness of the speculator 
We cannot come forward with any new attempt at theo-

V] NOTES 3, 4. 369
logical speculation without the painful consciousness of giving
an appearance of immodesty and presumption, and we might
almost wish in. doing so to fall under the suspicion of light-
mindedness, as though we were ignorant what we were doing
and what claim we were setting up." (Rothes's Theologische
Ethik.) NOTE 3, p. 165. ,
This will be seen from the quotations made under Note 2 ;
for Dr. Rothe finds the starting-point of his theory in the
individual religious consciousness ; that is, the moral sentiment
of the heart : then in the formation of his theology he rejects
all further alliance with the sentiment out of which it has
sprung. NOTE 4, p. 168.
" In thus doing he [Descartes] established the fundamental
principle which we regard as the corner-stone of all the meta
physics of modern Europe, namely, that as natural science is
based upon inductions drawn from the actual observation of
the world without, so metaphysical science is based upon
inductions similarly drawn from reflection upon the world
within." (Morell's History of Philosophy, vol. i. p. 167.)
On the other side stands the following vigorous protest
against speculative thinking from the pen of Mr. G. H.
Lewes : —
"If the foregoing discussion has carried with it the reader's
assent, he will perceive that the distinguishing characteristic
of science is its method of graduated verification, and not, as
some think, the employment of induction instead of deduc
tion. All science is deductive, and deductive in proportion to
its separation from ordinary knowledge and its co-ordination
into systematic science. ' Although all sciences tend to
grow more and more deductive/ says a great authority,
' they are not therefore the less inductive ; every step in the
deduction is still an induction. The opposition is not be
tween the terms inductive and deductive, but between deduc
tive and experimental.' [Mill's Logic.) Experiment is the
great instrument of verification." (Lewes' Biographical History
of Philosophy , Introd. xxiv. ed. 1857.)
Bb

370 NOTE 5. [Lect.
" While this is the course of science, the course of philoso
phy is very different. Its references start from no well
grounded basis; the arches they throw are not from known
fact to unknown fact, but from some unknown to some other
unknown. Deductions are drawn from the nature of God,
the nature of spirit and the essence of things, and from what
reason can postulate. Rising from such mists, the arch so
brilliant to look upon is after all a rainbow, not a bridge."
(Lewes' Biographical History of Philosophy, Introd. xxvi. ed.
I587-) It will be observed that in the latter quotation Mr. Lewes
entirely bears out my description of the deductive basis of
speculative philosophy. In regard to the distinction made in
the former passage to the relative use of the terms induction
and deduction, it must be remembered that the words are
often used in different senses by different writers. In the
passage in question, Mr. Lewes appears to refer, as the quota
tion from Mill indicates, rather to the systematising of what
is known, than to the process by which we acquire our know
ledge. I subjoin a definition of the terms from an authority
to which Mr. Lewes himself refers with great respect : —
" Induction is usually defined to be the process of drawing
a general law from a sufficient number of particular cases;
deduction is the converse process of proving that some pro
perty belongs to a particular case from the consideration that
it comes under a general law. More concisely, induction is
the process of discovering laws from facts, and causes from
effects ; and deduction that of deriving facts from laws, and
effects from their causes." [Thomson's Laws of Thought,
s. 115, p. 215.)
In a note Dr. Thomson explains the cause to which the
variable usage of the two terms is to be attributed.
NOTE 5, p. 169.
"Furnished as we are with the clue of Bacon's philosophy we
can traverse through with slow steps, and meeting with many
an obstacle, the labyrinth of nature ; unravelling the mysteries
that are without us by the aid of observation,' and the mys
teries that are within us by the more painful and precarious
operation of reflection upon our own thoughts ; but where is
the new philosophy or the new organum by which we might

V] NOTES 6, 7. 371
find out the Almighty. We can know exactly as much of Him,
but no more, than He Himself is pleased to reveal. It is to
the Bible alone that inductive philosophy is to be applied,
receiving the Divine declarations as the ultimate facts of re
ligion in the same way in which the laws or ultimate facts
of nature become the basis of natural philosophy, and the
ultimate principles of consciousness become the foundation of
morals." (Bouglas, Truths of Religion, p. 76.)

NOTE 6, p. 173.
"When engaged in 1828 in preparing for the press the
treatise on Geology, I conceived the idea of classing the
whole of this series of strata according to the different
degrees of affinity which their fossil testacea bore to the
living fauna. . . . After comparing 3,000 fossil species with
5,000 living ones, the result arrived at was that, in the
lower tertiary strata there were about 3! per cent, identical
with recent ; in the middle tertiary (the faluns of the Loire
and Gironde) from $§ to 50, and sometimes in the most
modern beds as much as 90 to 95 per cent. For the sake of
clearness and brevity I proposed to give short technical names
to these sets of strata, or the periods to which they respec
tively belonged. I called the first or oldest of them Eocene,
the second Miocene, and the third Pliocene." (Lyell's An
tiquity of Man, ch. i. p. 4.)
NOTE 7, p. 181.
Ie the language of the lecture should appear too strong to
any reader not acquainted with speculative philosophy, as
may very probably be the case, I commend to his attention
the following description of Schelling's system from the able.
and competent pen of Mr. Morell : —
"It is now easy to see the vast comprehensiveness of
Schelling's philosophy as a whole. It begins by advocating
a kind of Divine intuition by which we gaze upon the real
istic ground or basis of all the phenomena, both of mind and
matter. From this it goes on to construct by means of an
absolute and a priori law the whole phenomenal universe, de
riving it from the self-unfolding of the Absolute. One region
of existence after another yields, as by a magic spell, to the
bidding of this law, and confesses its secret unveiled. Matter
b b %

372 NOTE 7. [Lect.
with all its dull inertia puts on the garb of contending powers
and shows itself to be the objective reflection of the Absolute
itself. Those subtle agencies which we term magnetism,
electricity, galvanism, light and heat, each avows itself to be
but one pulsation in the self-developing process of the uni
versal mind; and even the phenomena of organised life are
still but the complete objectifying of the Absolute, each
animal nature being a perfected type of the eternal nature
itself. From the philosophy of nature Schelling passes on in
one unbroken chain of argument, without a chasm between,
to the philosophy of spirit. The same great law of the
Absolute solves the mysteries of sensation, of intelligence,
and of human freedom : from thence it proceeds to explain
the phenomena of man as an individual agent; of man in his
connection with society ; and, lastly, of man as he has de
veloped his being upon the broad page of his history. Finally,
it enters into the many regions of human genius and art,
and finds in them the crown and the summit of the whole
process, the highest expression of the Deity in the world.
" Here it might be supposed that the author would have
found his goal, and having constructed the universe out of
almost nothing, have at length enjoyed his Sabbath in peace.
But, instead of this, we find that the work is only half done ;
he has developed the law of the universe, but not explained
the substance ; he has exhibited the form, now he must go on
to the matter; he has analysed the full idea of God, and now
he must make manifest His existence. Upon this, with un
wearied wings, he begins another flight : pantheism is left
behind, and the real Triune Jehovah is placed before us in all
the plenitude of a Divine personality. Next the whole nature
of the dependent creation is developed, the procedure of the
material universe from the Absolute expounded, and the mys
teries of existence, which had been hidden before in thick
darkness, made irradiant with light and intelligence. The
destiny of man next comes upon the stage. To shew this, we
have the origin of moral evil discussed, and the question so
long tossed upon the billows of controversy for ever set at
rest. The door being thus open into the region of Christian
theology, the philosopher boldly enters in to grapple with the
great ideas which we there meet with. The law which has
unveiled the mysteries of nature and the soul, we may be sure
does not fail in explaining the whole rationale of Christian
faith — the great doctrines of revelation, the fall of man the
theory of redemption, the effusion of the Spirit — all are con
verted from objects of faith to objects of science ; all flow as

V] NOTE 8. 373
by natural consequence, from the great rhythm of existence :
nay, the controversies of the Church herself are settled, and
the repose of the world announced, in the predominance of
the doctrines of the loved apostle over the equally partial
views of the Protestant and the Catholic." (Morell's History
of Philosophy , vol. ii. pp. 154-157.)
NOTE 8, p. 186.
" I begin the real history of Greece with the first recorded
Olympiad, or 776 before Christ. To such as are accustomed
to the habits once universal, and still yet uncommon, in
investigating the ancient world, I may appear to be striking
off one thousand years from the scroll of history; but to
those whose canon of evidence is derived from Mr. Hallam,
M. Sismondi, or any other eminent historian of modern
events, I am well assured that I shall appear lax and credu
lous rather than exigent and sceptical. For the truth is, that
historical records, properly so called, do not begin till long
after this date ; nor will any man who candidly considers the
extreme paucity of attested facts for two centuries after
776 B.C. be astonished to learn that the state of Greece in
900, 1000, ii 00, 1200, 1300, 1400 B.C., or in any earlier
century which it may please chronologists to include in their
asserted genealogy, cannot be described to him upon anything
like decent evidence." (Grote's Hist, of Greece, Preface, xi.)
" The work of Niebuhr has formed a great landmark in the
recent treatment of early Roman history. Almost all the
subsequent works on the subject are either founded upon his
researches, or are occupied to a great extent with criticisms
on his conclusions, and with reasons for rejecting or doubting
them. Among the former of these the work of Dr. Arnold
stands conspicuous, which had been brought down to the end
of the first Punic war, before he was unhappily carried off by
a premature death. Among the latter it will be sufficient to
name the work of Bekker on ' Roman Antiquities,' continued
since his death by Marquarat, and the history of Schwegler,
one volume of which, comprising the regal period, has alone
appeared. In these and other works many of Niebuhr's
opinions on questions of Roman history are disputed or
doubted ; and it may be said that there is scarcely any of the
leading conclusions of Niebuhr's work which has not been
impugned by some subsequent writer. Even his views upon
the Agrarian Laws, the soundest and most valuable part of his

374 NOTES 9—11. [Lect.
history, have not escaped contradiction on certain points.
Furthermore, a recent history of Rome, published at Basle by
Gerlach and Bachofen, and written with considerable erudi
tion, not only repudiates the reconstructive part of Niebuhr's
work, but even refuses assent to his negative criticisms, and
returns to the old implicit faith in the early period such as it
was in the time of Eehard, Catron, and Rollin." (Credibility
of the Early Roman History, by Sir G. C. Lewis, vol. i.
p. 12.)
NOTE 9, p. 191.
In confirmation of the facts stated in this brief sketch
of the results of speculative philosophy, I refer to the fol
lowing standard works : Enfield's " History of Philosophy,
after Brucker," Ritter's " History of Ancient Philosophy,"
Morell's " History of Speculative Philosophy in Europe," and
Lewes' " Biographical History of Philosophy."

NOTE 10, p. 192.
[' In the ' Cours de Philosophie Positive,' we have the
grandest, because upon the whole the truest, system which
philosophy has yet produced; nor should any differences
whicli must inevitably arise on points of detail make us
forget the greatness of the achievement and the debt we owe
to the lonely thinker who wrought out this system." (Lewes'
Biographical History of Philosophy, art. on Auguste Comte,
p. 662.)

NOTE 11, p. 192.
" The fundamental doctrine of a true philosophy, according
to M. Comte, and the character by which he defines Positive
philosophy, is the following : —
" We have no knowledge of anything but phenomena ; and
our knowledge of phenomena is relative, not absolute. We
know not the essence, nor the real mode of production of any
fact, but only its relations to other facts in the way of succes
sion or of similitude. These relations are constant ; that is,
always the same in the same circumstances. The constant

V] NOTE 12. 375
resemblances which link phenomena together, and the con
stant sequences which unite them as antecedent and conse
quent, are termed their laws. The laws of phenomena are all
we_ know, about them. Their essential nature and their
ultimate causes, either efficient or final, are unknown and
inscrutable to us." (Mill on Positivism.)
I have preferred to make the extract from Mr. Mill's own
words, in order to avoid the possibility of being charged with
having misrepresented M. Auguste Comte's meaning.

NOTE 12, p. 193.
" M. Comte's law may be thus stated : —
" Every branch of knowledge passes successively through
three stages: 1. The supernatural or fictitious; 2. The
metaphysical or abstract; 3. The positive or scientific. The
first is the necessary point of departure taken by human
intelligence; the second is merely a stage of transition from
the supernatural to the positive ; and the third is the fixed
and definite condition which knowledge is alone capable of
— progressive development.
" In the supernatural stage the mind seeks after causes —
aspires to know the essences of things and their modes of
operation. It regards all effects as the production of super
natural agents whose intervention is the cause of all the
apparent anomalies and irregularities. Nature is animated
by supernatural beings. Every unusual phenomenon is a
sign of the pleasure or displeasure of some being adored and
propitiated as a god. The lowest condition of this stage is
that of the savages, viz. Fetiehism; the highest condition is
when one being is substituted for many as the cause of all
phenomena. " In the metaphysical stage, which is only a modification
of the former, but which is important as a transitional stage,
the supernatural agents give place to abstract forces, personi
fied abstractions supposed to inhere in the various substances,
and capable themselves of engendering phenomena. The
highest condition of this stage is when all these forces are
brought under one general force, named Nature.
" In the positive stage the mind, convinced of the futility
of all enquiry into causes and essences, applies itself to the
observation and classification of laws which regulate effects ;
that is to say, the invariable relations of succession and

376 NOTES 1, 2. [Lect.
similitude which all things bear to each other/ The highest
condition of this stage would be to be able to represent all
phenomena as the various particulars of one general view."
(Lewes' Biographical History of Philosophy, art. Auguste
Comte.)

LECTUEE Vt

NOTE 1, p. 200.
"Civilisation is, as it were, the grand emporium of a
people in which all its wealth, all the elements of its life,
all the powers of its existence, are stored up." (Guizot on
Civilisation, Lect. I. p. 6.)
" Wherever the exterior condition of man becomes enlarged,
quickened, and improved; wherever the intellectual nature of
man distinguishes itself by its energy, brilliancy, and its gran
deur ; wherever these signs concur — and they often do so,
notwithstanding the gravest imperfections in the social sys
tem — there man proclaims and applauds civilisation." (Ibid.
Lect. I. p. 10.) NOTE 2, p. 202.
The statistics of missionary work in New Zealand give the
following results: — In 1863 the Church Missionary Society
occupied 21 stations, with 5,500 communicants. In 1864,
the Wesleyan Missionary Society, working in the north
western portion of the island, had gathered 1,978 Church
members, and 13,622 attendants at public worship. To take
a more general view, 62 missionary agencies in various parts
of the world occupied in 1863 1,516 mission stations, and
maintained 1,591 places of worship. The number of agents
employed was 7,372, of whom 3,868 were fully ordained.
The attendants at public worship were 541,072, of whom
468>345 were communicants. The number of scholars under
instruction was 332,353.

VI] NOTE 3. 377
The interesting circumstances connected with the first
successful results of the Moravian missions at Labrador esta
blish the proposition maintained in the lecture. The report
of the Society's agent is as follows : —
"June 3. Many of the natives of the south that passed our
habitation visited us. John Beck was at that time writing
a translation of the Evangelists. The savages earnestly re
quested to hear the contents of that book. He accordingly
read part of it, and taking the opportunity to enter into con
versation, asked if they had each of them a soul. They
answered Yes. He asked again where their soul would go
after death. Some said up yonder, pointing to the sky ;
others, down to the abyss. After setting them right on that
point, he asked them who had made heaven and earth and all
things visible. They replied that they did not know, nor had
ever heard, but it must have been some great and opulent
lord. He then told them that God had created all things,
particularly man, but that the latter had revolted through
disobedience, thereby plunging himself into eternal misery
and ruin ; but that his Creator had mercy on him, and
became a Man to redeem him by suffering death. And now
said John Beck, we must believe in Him if we wish to b..
saved. He afterwards read to them the narrative of Christ's
sufferings on the Mount of Olives. Then the Lord opened
the heart of one of them called Ragarnak, who stepped up to
the table and said in a loud, earnest voice, ' How was that ?
Tell me that once more, for I would fain be saved too.'
These words, the like of which I never heard from a Green-
lander before, thrilled through my frame, and melted my
heart to such a degree that the tears ran down my cheeks
while I gave the Greenlander a general account of our
Saviour's life and death, and the whole counsel of God
concerning our salvation." (Quoted in From Pole to Pole,
p. 103.) NOTE 3, p. 205.
An interesting account of these settlements will be found
in Baird's " Religion in America," book viii. ch. 2.

378 NOTES 4—7. [Lect.

NOTE 4, p. 217.
" In such a state of things, and recollecting moreover that
Socrates in his defence would not condescend to the usual
practices of accused persons, and disdained to move the com
passion of his judges by lamentations, or their good- will by
flattery, but in the proud consciousness of innocence — without
a fear of death, perhaps even with a desire to die — boldly
defied his judges, and made them listen, not to sweet words
of adulation, but to bitter truths, — there is nothing to sur
prise us in his condemnation. Indeed his contemporaries do
not appear to have been amazed at the result, but rather
to have wondered that he should have been condemned by a
bare majority of five or six votes." (Rater's History of Ancient
Philosophy, vol. ii. p. 30.)

NOTE 5, p. 218.
Plato "De Legibus," lib. v. c. 10; also "De Republica,"
lib. v. NOTE 6, p. 219.
A statement of this kind is contained in one of the very
agreeable narratives of the American writer Mr. Gk, H. Dana; "JFL/
but I regret to add, that while the fact is distinct in my
memory, I have not yet been able to verify the reference.
NOTE 7, p. 220.
The information we possess relative to the social and
domestic life of the Romans will be found put together in
a form both interesting and amusing in a curious book en
titled " Literary Conglomerate, or a Combination of Various
Thoughts and Facts on Various Subjects, by P. B. Duncan,
Oxford, 1839." See also Merivale's " Hist, of the Romans,"
vol. iv. ch. 41.

VI] NOTE 8. 379

NOTE 8, p. 221.
An immense difference is perceptible between the female
characters of Homer, as, for instance, Nausicaa, Penelope,
Arete, and Andromache, and the female characters of Terence,
where there is not a trace of nobility, and little of virtue of
any kind. This higher type has not escaped the attention
of historians. Bishop Thirl wall in his "History of Greece"
says : —
" Homer has drawn a pleasing picture of maidenly sim
plicity, filial tenderness, and hospitable kindness, in the person
of the Phaeacian princess Nausicaa, one of his most amiable
creations ; yet he seems to dwell with still greater satisfaction
on the matronly dignity and conjugal devotion which com
mand our respect and admiration in a Penelope, an Arete, and
an Andromache. If, indeed, we should draw our notions as
to the state of domestic society in the heroic age from these
characters, we might be in danger of estimating it too favour
ably." (Vol. i. ch. vi. p. 199.)
In the previous chapter he had expressed the opinion : —
" There may perhaps be room for suspecting that he
[Homer] has unwittingly passed over some gradations in the
advance of society, — that he has sometimes transferred to the
age of his heroes what properly belonged to his own, and still
oftener that he has heightened and embellished the objects
which he touches : but there is no ground for the opposite
suspicion, that he has anywhere endeavoured to revive an
image of obsolete simplicity, or for the sake of dramatic cor
rectness has suppressed any advantage or knowledge or refine
ment which his contemporaries possessed." (ch. v. p. 179.)
Of the state of society he says : —
"The intercourse between the sexes, though much more
restricted than by modern European usages, was perhaps sub
ject to less restraint than in the later times of Greece. If it
is entirely destitute of the chivalrous devotion which has left
so deep a tinge on our manners, it displays more of truth and
simplicity in the degree of respect which the stronger sex
pays to the weaker." (ch. vi. p. 197.)
Mr. Grote estimates the earlier periods of Greek society in
much the same way. He considers the ancient legends to be

380 NOTES 9, 10. [Lect.
valuable memorials of the state of society as to feeling and
intelligence. In vol. ii. bk. xx. p. 8i he speaks favourably of the
moral and social feeling of the heroic period (p. 109), and of
the influence of religion upon custom (p. 112); expresses the
opinion that in the heroic period the wife "seems to live
less secluded, and to enjoy a wider sphere of action, than
was allotted to her in historical Greece" (p. 112), and
warmly commends the hospitality, the generous sociality,
and strong affections of the time (p. 116).

NOTE 9, p. 222.
See Homer's " Odyssey," bk. xi. ; Aeschylus in the " Pro*
metheus Bound," the "Prometheus Delivered," and the
"Eumenides;" Sophocles in the "Oedipus Coloneus." Justin
Martyr in his " Hortatory Address to the Greeks," and in his
" Treatise on the Sole Government of God," quotes some
striking passages from works no longer extant, by Aeschylus,
Sophocles, and Euripides. Athenagoras, in his " Plea for the
Christians," quotes from Sophocles and Euripides, the object
being in both cases to show that Christian truths were pos^
sessed through tradition by the ancient poets, but in a form
too imperfect and corrupt to exercise any practical influence on
morals. The relation of the ancient Greek tragedians towards
Christian truth will be found discussed by Dollinger in the
" Gentile and the Jew," vol. i. bk. v. eh. i. How completely
the notion of an existence after death and future rewards died
out of heathen belief is shown in a learned note of Whitby
on 2 Tim. i. 10.

NOTE 10, p. 223.
"Aristotle thought it lawful to procure abortion (Polit.
lib. vii. ch. xvi.) ; and Plato to expose children (De Repub.
lib. v.). Democritus and Epicurus condemned marriage (Clem.
Alex. Strom, lib. ii. ch. xxiii. ; Plato, De Repub. lib. vii.). The
Epicureans and Stoics (Sext. Empir.Pyrrh. lib. iii. c. xxiv.), nay

VI] NOTES 11, 12. 381
Socrates and Plato (Tert. Apol. c. xxxix.), allowed fornication
and a community of wives."
For the remainder of the passage, with the authorities on
which the statement is founded, see Ryan's "Effects of
Religion," s. i. p. 64, ed. 1788 ; see also Merivale's "History
of the Romans," vol. iv. ch. xl.
" It was a custom among Phoenicians, Babylonians, and
other ancient nations, to appoint women for prostitution in the
temples of Venus and Priapus  These temples were
decorated with obscene figures of naked Jupiters, gladiators,
and other emblems of strength and lewdness, and. one thou
sand religious prostitutes were solemnly dedicated to such
services at Corinth, and maintained in a temple." (Strabo,
lib. viii. ; Lewis' Hebrew Antiquities, bk. v. ch. i. ; Ryan's
Effects of Religion, lect. ii.)

NOTE 11, p. 226.
The history of all the great nations of antiquity confirms
this statement. Assyria under Sardanapalus, Babylon under
Belshar-uzzar, Persia under Xerxes, and the Roman Empire
under Nero and his successors, are instances admitting of no
dispute. The same fact holds good in a remarkable degree
in oriental history; for instance, in regard to the successive
dynasties which held sway in Hindostan.

NOTE 12, p. 228.
" Christianity represents all men as children of the same
God, and heirs of the same salvation, and levels all distinc
tions of rich and poor, as accidental and insignificant in His
sight, who rewards or punishes according to the merits or
demerits of His creatures. This doctrine, so friendly to virtue,
tends to humble the proud, to add dignity to the lowly ; to
render princes and inferior magistrates moderate and just,
gentle and condescending to their inferiors; subjects resigned
and contented with their situation, cheerfully obedient to the
laws, and consequently quiet and peaceable citizens." (Ryan's
Effects of Religion, lect. iii. p. 188.)

382 NOTES 13, 14. [Lect.
"The Greek was a political being in the strictest sense
of the term. Citizenship and political freedom, consisting in
a participation in the supreme power of the State, was his
highest good. A complete dependence on the State, and the
absolute surrender of the individual member to the body,
was the sentiment that had grown with his growth and
formed the groundwork of his moral being. The sum of his
duties was to merge his personality in the State, and to
have no will of his own distinct from that of the State.
What position an individual was to occupy in the community
was not left to his own good pleasure, but was traced out
beforehand for him. And, properly speaking, there was no de
partment within which a Greek could be justified, according
to his judgment, in free action merely as a man." (Bollinger,
The Gentile and the Jew, bk. ix. ch. i.)

NOTE 13, p. 229.
Gibbon, in his account of the causes of the spread and
triumph of Christianity, specifies the spirit of mutual love
to which their faith gave rise : —
"The more they were persecuted, the more closely they
adhered to each other. Their mutual charity and unsus
pecting confidence has been remarked by infidels, and was
too often abused by perfidious friends."

NOTE 14, p. 280.
" The contests of wild beasts, and of men with beasts, were
a corruption of the noble science of war, which the gladiatorial
combats were supposed to teach. They were a concession to
the prurient appetite for excitement engendered by an indul
gence which, however natural in a rude and barbarous age,
was actually hardening and degrading. The interest these
exercises at first naturally excited degenerated into a mere
passion for the sight of death." (Merivale's History of the
Romans, vol. iv. ch. 41.)
The delight taken by all classes in the bloody games of the
circus, as they existed during the later times of the Empire,
proves how cheap was the estimate of human life. These

VI] NOTE 14. 383
games were oftentimes miniature battles, and sometimes
battles on a considerable scale. After the triumph of Trajan
over the Dacians, spectacles were exhibited for 123 days, in
which 11,000 animals of different kinds were killed, and
10,000 gladiators fought.
For the condition of the slave population at Rome, see
Merivale's '¦ History of the Romans," vol. iv. eh. xxxix. ;
Massey's " History of the Romans," p. 59 ; Gibbon, ch. ii.
Tacitus records that the prefect of the city (Pedanius
Secundus) being murdered by one of his slaves, the whole
body of his slaves at Rome, amounting to a vast multitude,
and including many women and children, were, in accordance
with the ancient law, executed together. (Tao. Ann. xiv.
42-45-) "The Greeks and Romans had no charitable buildings
until the humane spirit of Christianity encouraged almsgiving
and laid the foundation of such buildings wheresoever it was
adopted  It appears, from the first volume of the
' Byzantine History,' that there was no charitable buildings
in Constantinople in the time of Arcadius and Honorius, and
soon after the establishment of the Christian religion 
In Rome, where a martial spirit prevailed, the generals and
emperors paid extraordinary attention to the recovery of sick
soldiers (Pitiseus, ' Lexicon,' vol. ii. p. 1032), but it does not
appear that the state provided any charitable institutions
similar to those now established in Christendom. A writer
(Publius Victor, ' De Urbis Romae Regionibus et Rosini Antiq.,'
lib. i.) who describes all the buildings of ancient Rome, does
not mention a single house for the accommodation of the sick
or of persons in distress. It is true the word valetudinarium
is found both in Seneca (De Ira, lib. i. cap. xvi. and Epist.
xxvii. Com. Notes Lipsii) and Columella (De Re Rustica), but
most commentators are of opinion that the word only signified
an infirmary in or near the houses of great men, for the sick
servants of the family." (Ryan's Effects of Religion, s. 111.
vol. ii.)
This statement has been called into question in an in
teresting volume, " Collections relative to Systematic Relief
of the Poor, by J. S. Duncan, Esq., Bath, Fellow of New
College. Bath and London 1815." The passage is as follows,

384 NOTE 15. [Lect.
and confirms rather than impugns the statement of the
lecture : —
" The Roman valetudinarium was an infirmary attached
to the houses of the rich, for the use of sick dependents, and
possibly occasional strangers. The term is also applied to a
military hospital. It has been said that no establishment
existed in ancient Rome on a more extended plan. But the
expression of Seneca seems to mark a difference between a
valetudinarium of a general nature, and one attached to a great
man's house : ' Si intrassem valetudinarium exercitatus et
sciens, aut domum divitis, non idem imperassem omnibus per
diversa aegrotantibus.' It indeed strictly opposes the valetu
dinarium to the house of the rich, therefore may signify that
the disorders of the poor in the valetudinarium require a dif
ferent treatment from those of the rich in the domns. Yet
in Epist. 27 he says : ' Tamquam in eodem valetudinario
jaceam de communi malo tecum colloquor, remedia com-
munico.' This seems to refer to a kind of place in which he
and his friend might have come together, without a total
change of condition from freedom to slavery. . . . Whatever
might be the case of the poor in ancient Rome, it is not to be
doubted that it was sublimely extended, and for a long time
usefully directed, by the early Christians." (pp. 59, 60.)

NOTE 15, p. 231.
Dollinger, speaking of the Greek mysteries, says : —
" If purity was desired in those who were to be initiated,
we are not to understand by the expression ' moral purity of
soul,' the idea of which, to the extent we are acquainted with
it as an ordinance of religion, was quite strange to heathen
dom." (The Gentile and the Jew, bk. iii.)
" Before approaching matters of Divine worship and cele
bration of rites among the Greeks — their sacrifices, prayers,
and festivals — we must mention their purifications, as they
necessarily preceded each act directed towards the Deity. As
far as the case admits of investigation, the idea of these
ablutions and lustrations was a merely mechanical one "
(Ibid. bk. iv.)
Of the Roman purifications he says : —
" It was not on the strength of any ideas of morality

VI] NOTES 16, 17. 385
attaching to this abstinence, but because such abstaining, like
the fresh-washed garments and hands, was calculated to
produce that physical purity with which a person ought
to present himself before the Deity and enter into the com
munion of sacrifice with Him; hence the poetical dictum,
'The pure is pleasing to the celestial,' and Cicero's pre
scription, fOne should approach the gods in purity.'" (Ibid.
bk. vii. ch. 4.) NOTE 16, p. 232.
" Spartan legislators, regarding marriage entirely as an
institution for the supply of healthy and robust children, regu
lated the relations of husbands and wives accordingly. Their
maidens, obliged to the gymnastic exercises of the Palestra in
a. state of nudity, and in the presence of men young and old,
including frequently strangers, were educated to a hardihood ill
becoming their sex : their very dances are represented as of
a licence degraded to indecency. The idea of conjugal fidelity
being of sacred obligation was in reality never dreamed of."
(Bollinger, Gentile and Jew, bk ix.)
See also Guizot's " Lectures on Civilization : " —
" In Greece the principle was the unity of the social prin
ciple ; and Greece had hardly become glorious before she
appeared worn out." (Lect. ii. p. 34.)
See Plato " De Republica," bk. v. c. 9.
NOTE 17, p. 233.
" In the ancient world there prevailed two practices equally
pernicious to the peace and happiness of the married state.
From the most early times polygamy appears to have been
universal among the Eastern nations, and men married as
many wives as their fancy wished or their fortune could
maintain  By it were banished from domestic life all
those enjoyments that sweeten and endear it. Friendship,
social intercourse, confidence, and the mutual care of children,
were to a great measure unknown,— on the one hand rigour,
voluptuousness, jealousy; and on the other subjection without
love, fidelity, or virtue. One half of the human species
became the property of the other ; and the husband, instead
of being the friend and protector of the wife, was no better
than the master and tyrant over a slave.
c c

386 NOTE 18. [Lect.
" In the western parts of the world the notions in regard
to marriage were more conformable to nature. One man was
confined to one woman, but at the same time their laws
allowed a practice which introduced the most fatal disorders
into domestic life  No sooner had the progress of
luxury and the establishment of despotic power vitiated the
taste of men, than the law in regard to divorces was found to
be among the worst corruptions which prevailed in that
abandoned age. . . . Among the Romans domestic corrup
tion grew of a sudden to an incredible height ; and perhaps
in the history of mankind we can find no parallel to the
undisguised impurity and licentiousness of that age." (Robert
son's Biscourse on the Situation of the World at Christ's
Coming.) The laws to prevent the crying evil of promiscuous bathing
in the Roman baths, passed by Adrian and Marcus Aurelius,
repealed by Heliogabalus, and re-enacted by Constantine ;
and yet more clearly the laws passed to regulate prostitution,
illustrate the incredible licentiousness of the later times of
the empire. In regard to the last, and the licence issued
yearly by the iEdiles, with its degrading conditions, we are
told that women who were wives and daughters to Roman
knights were not ashamed to apply for such licences ; and the
infection even reached higher. Viotella, a lady of prsetorian
rank, was not ashamed to apply for a licence ; but the Romans,
debauched as they were under Tiberius, were shocked at this,
and several laws were passed to prevent ladies of rank from
so degrading themselves. The cruelty that went hand in
hand with their profligacy— as was natural, for selfish passion
is at the bottom of them both — was illustrated by the con
duct of Fulvia, the wife of Anthony, towards Cicero. An
immense collection of facts bearing on this subject will be
found in the " History of Women," by William Alexander.
London, 1782.

NOTE 18, p. 235.
Guizot in his "Lectures on Civilisation" justly puts stress on
the character of the Gothic nations as having helped to infuse

VI] NOTES 19, 20. 387
the principles of hardy independence into modern Europe.
But he presses this one element too far. The tendency to an
Eremitic life in the early days of Christianity was pre-Chris
tian in its origin. Doubtless the institution of conventual
establishments was over-ruled for good during the darkness
and the disordered state of society prevailing in the middle
ages. But the benefits which the wise providence of God
has secured for the world by their means is no proof that
they are good in themselves, and had not a dark and preju
dicial side as well as a favourable one. But according to the
argument of the lecture it is no question for a balance of ad
vantages and disadvantages, but of distinctive characteristics.
Neither the teaching of Scripture nor the examples of its
recorded saints supply the slightest authority for the life
of forced seclusion which the Church of Rome, and some
among ourselves, term the " religious life."
NOTE 19, p. 235.
" Nothing can, I conceive, be more erroneous or super
ficial than the reasonings of those who maintain that the
moral element of Christianity has in it nothing distinctive or
peculiar. The method of this school, of which Bolingbroke
may be regarded as the type, is to collect from the writings
of different heathen writers certain isolated passages embody
ing precepts that were inculcated by Christianity ; and when
the collection had become very large the task was supposed
to be accomplished. But the true originality of a system of
modern teaching depends not so much upon the elements of
which it is composed, as upon the manner in which they are
fused into a symmetrical whole ; upon the proportional value
that is attached to different qualities, or, to state the same
thing by a single word, upon the type of eharacter that is
formed. Now it is quite certain that the Christian type
differs, not only in degree, but in kind, from the Pagan type."
(Lecky's History of Rationalism, vol. i. pp. 335-339O
NOTE 20, p. 238.
See Guizot's " Lectures on Civilisation," where he refers
the origin of modern civilisation to the Church of the fifth
century.

388 NOTES 1, 2. [Lect.

LECTUEE VII

NOTE 1, p. 242.
"Biblical Psychology, Delitzsch," bk. iii. s. iv. p. 165,
Clark's ed. 1867. NOTE 2, p. 244.
Allusion is here made to an article on Conscience which
appeared in the "Saturday Review" for August 5, 1866. To the
philosophy of this article, as expressive of the general result of
enquiry, allusion is made in p. 266. This statement fairly
reflects the general opinion ; but in coming to it all the great
thinkers of modern times have held the existence of an in
born germ of conscience in every man, a natural witness for
God which is trained and developed, but not itself produced,
by the educational processes of life. When, therefore, the
writer of this article proceeds towards the close of his paper
to say that a man produces his own conscience as he raises his
own vegetables, the illustration is as philosophically untrue as
it is painfully irreverent. For in the illustration the man is
a conscious and intelligent agent in sowing the seed, and the
production of the fruit is so entirely dependent upon his own
volition, that he' can have it or not have it as he likes. But
the possession of a conscience is not left to any man's choice.
Its existence is as absolutely independent of his own will, as if
the faculty were in no degree acquired, but were altogether
innate. A man has it in his power to abuse the gift by either
corrupting the verdicts of conscience or by crushing its power ;
but he is totally unable to relieve himself of the responsi
bility of its possession.

VII] NOTES 3, 4. ' 389

NOTE 3, p. 245.
" A system [rationalism] which makes the moral faculty of
man the measure and arbiter of faith must always act power
fully on those in whom that faculty is most developed."
(Lecky's History of Rationalism, vol. i. ch. ii. p. 183.)
" Men have come instinctively and almost unconsciously to
judge all doctrines by their intuitive sense of right, and to
reject or explain away, or throw into the background, those
that will not bear the test, no matter how imposing may be
the authority that authenticates them." (Ibid. vol. i. ch. 4,
p. 411.)

NOTE 4, p. 254.
The views of Hobbes are stated in the body of the lecture.
His inconsistent references to the grounds of conscience are
found in the "Leviathan," pt. i. ch. 15; pt. ii. ch. 26, 28. I
subjoin the first of these passages : —
" The laws of nature are immutable and eternal ; for in
justice, ingratitude, arrogance, pride, iniquity, deception of
persons, and the rest, can never be made lawful. For it can
never be that war shall preserve life, and peace destroy it."
Paley's words in denial of an innate faculty of conscience
("Moral Philosophy," bk. i. c. 5) are also quoted in the
lecture. On the other hand, in his Sermons he says: —
" Conscience— our own conscience— is to be our guide in all
things." " It is through the whisperings of conscience that
the Spirit speaks. If men are wilfully deaf to their con
sciences they cannot hear the Spirit." (Sermon xxv. on 1 Cor.
iii. 16. See also Sermon xxxii.)

NOTE 4* p. 266, line 5.
" Saturday Review" for August 5th, 1866.

390 NOTE 5. [Lect.

NOTE 5, p. 266.
The following list will supply the works to which reference
is made in the lecture, in the order in which they occur : —
Homer's Odyssey, bk. vii.
Aeschylus, Eumenides and Prometheus Bound.
Menander, 326, edit. Meineke ex Aldo.
Plato, De Republica, lib. ix.
Aristotle, Politics, lib. i. c. xiii.; Nic. Eth. lib. ix. c. 4.
Cicero, De Natura Deorum, lib. iii. 35 ; De Finibus, lib. iii. 4 ;
De Legibus, i. 6.
Plutarch, Moralia.
Marcus Antoninus, lib. v. c. 27.
Epictetus, lib. i. c. 14.
Seneca, Ep. 4; De Beneficiis, c. 17.
Horace, Ep. i. 1, 60.
Juvenal, Sat. xiii. —
" But why are those, Calvinus, thought to 'scape
Unpunished, whom in every fearful shape
Guilt still alarms, and conscience, ne'er asleep,
Wounds with incessant strokes, not loud but deep ;
While the vexed mind, her own tormentor, plies
A scorpion scourge, unmarked by human eyes.
Trust me, no tortures which the poets feign
Can match the fierce, the unutterable pain
He feels, who, night and day, devoid of rest,
Carries his own accuser in his breast."
(Gifford's Translation, 260 — 270.)
TertuUian, Apology — p. 40, Pusey's Libr. of the Fathers.
Chrysostom, Horn. viii. to people of Antioch.
Abelard — quoted by WheweU, Lect. on Moral Philosophy.
Bernard, De Interiori Domo, c. xxii. — quoted by Bishop Taylor
in his Rule of Conscience.
Peter Lombard — quoted by Schenkel.
Perkins, Treatise on Cases of Conscience.
Ames, Conscience, the Power, and Cases thereof.

VII] NOTE 5. 391
Hall, Resolutions and Decisions of Cases of Conscience.
Sanderson, De Obligatione Conscientiae.
Taylor, The Rule of Conscience, or Ductor Dubitantium.
Hobbes, Leviathan.
Locke, On the Human Understanding.
Mandeville, Fable of the Bees.
Earl of Shaftesbury, Characteristics.
Hume, Enquiry into the Principles of Morals.
Hartley, Observations on Man.
More, Enchiridium Ethicum.
Cudworth, Eternal and Immutable Morality.
Hutcheson, Enquiry into Principles of Beauty and Virtue.
Butler's Sermons, ii. iii. v. viii., &c.
Adam Smith, The Theory of Moral Sentiments.
Brown, Lectures on the Philosophy of the Human Mind.
Ockham, Questiones et Decisiones, in iv. Libb. Sententiarum.
Cumberland, De Legibus Naturalibus.
Woollaston, The Religion of Nature Delineated.
Price, Review of the Principal Questions and Difficulties in
Morals.
Gay, Dissertation on the Fundamental Principles of Virtue and
Morality.
Tucker, The Light of Nature Pursued.
Paley, Moral and Political Philosophy.
Bentham — Principles of Morals and Legislation.
Mackintosh, Dissertation on Ethical Philosophy, in the first vol.
of the Encyclopaedia Britannica.
Chalmers, Natural Theology.
Whateley, Notes on Paley's Moral Philosophy.
WheweU, Systematic Morality.
Leibnitz, Codex Juris Gentium Diplomaticus.
Malbranche, Traite" de Morale.
Crusius, Elementa Theolog. Moralia.
Kant, Religion innerhald der Grenzen der blossen Vernunft.
Fichte, System der Sittenlehre.
De Wette, Christi. Sittenlehre.
Mosheim, Sittenlehre der L. Schrift.
Reinhard, System der Chr. Moral.
Harless, Christi. Ethik.

392 NOTES 6, 7. [Lect.
Rothe, Theolog. Ethik.
Schubert, Christi. Ethik.
Hoffman, Schriftheweis.
Marheineke, System der Theol. Moral.
Schenkel, Herzog, Real. Encyklopadie.
Delitzsch, System der Bibl. Psychologic

NOTE 6, p. 273.
" If, instead of the glad tidings that there exists a Being
in whom all the excellences which the highest human mind
can conceive exist in a degree inconceivable to us, I am in
formed that the world is ruled by a Being whose attributes
are infinite, but what they are we cannot learn, nor what
are the principles of His government, except that ' the highest
human morality which we are capable of conceiving' does
not sanction them ; — convince me of it and I will bear my
fate as I may. But when I am told that I must believe
this, and, at the same time, call this Being by the names
which express and affirm the highest human morality, I say,
in plain terms, that I will not. Whatever power such a
Being may have over me, this is one thing which He shall
not do : He shall not compel me to worship Him. I will
call no Being good who is not what I mean when I apply
that epithet to my fellow- creatures ; and if such a Being can
sentence me to hell for not so calling him, to hell I will
go." (An Examination of Sir W. Hamilton's Philosophy, by John
Stuart Mill, p. 102.)

VIII] NOTES 1—3. 393

LECTUEE VIII
NOTE 1, p. 316.
The distinct lines of argument available for use in proving
the Divine origin and authority of the faith may be variously
classified. As my object is only to point out their number
and variety, the following enumeration will be accurate enough
for the purpose : — I. External ; (a) Miracles, (I) Historical tes
timony, (c) Mode of propagation, (d) Effects upon the world.
II. Internal ; (a) Unity of design and teaching, (b) Sublimity
of doctrine and of style, (c) Prediction, (d) Undesigned coin
cidences, (e) Adaptation to the moral wants of man and the
experienced constitution of the world in which he is placed.
NOTE 2, p. 317.
This is singularly the case with modern thought. Not
only is the external side of the evidences wholly ignored
in the majority of modern attacks upon Christianity, but in
many cases it is difficult in the extreme to believe that the
author can ever have made himself acquainted with them,
so wholly is all reference to them absent, and so constantly
is stress laid upon arguments inconsistent with the external
facts of the case. It is deeply to be regretted that, on such
a subject, care should not be taken to ascertain what has pre
viously been thought and said by the many great men of
the past who have laboured in this sphere.
NOTE 3, p. 317.
Mr. Buckle's " History of Civilisation," and Mr. Lecky's
" History of Rationalism in Europe," supply two notable in
stances of this tendency. A very spirited examination ot
Dd

394 NOTE 4.
Mr. Buckle's philosophy will be found in the first paper con
tained in Mr. Froude's new book, " Short Studies on Great
Subjects." It is well to be able to cite a witness so free
from all possible suspicion of a tendency to dogmatic pre
judices as Mr. Froude.

NOTE 4, p. 318.
An unexceptional testimony to this fact is supplied by
Mr. Pattison in his paper on " The Tendencies of Religious
Thought in England, 1688-1750," contributed to "Essays
and Reviews."

ERRATA.

On page 56, line 2, for "Iremeus " read " TertuUian "
On page 56, line & /or "stern TertuUian » «od « gentle Irenams ,
On page 135, line i9>/or «he considelV. ^ „they ^.^ ,.

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Ln the course of Publication,
CATENA CLASSICORUM,
A SEEIES OF CLASSICAL AUTHOKS,
EDITED BY MEMBEES OF BOTH UNIVEBSITIES UNDEB
THE DIBECTION OF
THE REV. ARTHUR HOLMES, M.A.
FELLOW and leotueeb oe claee college, cambeidge,

THE REV. CHARLES BIGG, M.A.
SENIOE STUDENT AND LATE TUTOB OF CHEIST CHUBCH, OXFOED, SECOND
CLASSICAL MASTEE OF CHELTENHAM COLLEGE.
The Editors of this Series design to issue texts of all the authors which are com
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The following Works are in progress: — ¦

HOMERI ILIAS, edited by S. H. Rey
nolds, M.A., Fellow and Tutor of
Brasenose College, Oxford.
Vol. I. Books I. to XII. (In the press.)
SOPHOCLIS TRAGOEDIAE, edited
by R. C. Jebb, M.A., Fellow and
Assistant Tutor of Trinity College,
Cambridge. Part I.— Electra. 3s. Qd. (Ready.)
ARISTOPHANIS COMOEDIAE,
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Knights, is. (Ready.)
THUCYDIDIS HISTORIA, edited by
Chaeles Bigg, M.A., Senior Student
and late Tutor of Christ Church, Ox
ford ; second Classical Master of
Cheltenham College.
Vol. I. Books I. and II. with
Introductions. (In the press.)
HERODOTI HISTORIA, edited by H.
G. Woods, B.A., Fellow and Tutor of
Trinity College, Oxford.

DEMOSTHENIS ORATIONES PUB-
LICAE, edited by G. H. Heslop,
M.A., late Fellow and Assistant Tutor
of Queen's College, Oxford; Head
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TEKENTI COMOEDIAE, edited by
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