PREVIOUSLY to entering further into the question now fairly instituted between Mr. Gladstone and ourselves, it seems necessary to establish certain principles; to which we now proceed. As all is not virtue that passes for such, so all is not philosophy that arrogates her attributes. With such writers as Gibbon, the word means an unlimited license to doubt and to deny but philosophy doubts not-she ascertains, denies not-she affirms. She glories in her faith, not in her disbelief; claims as her proud prerogative, not to perplex, but to enlighten; labours, not to raise difficulties, but to remove them. To make a distinction, as is frequently done by Gibbon, between the evidence which ought to satisfy the religious mind, and that which would be required to convince a philosopher, is a dishonest tampering with words. True: if a question is to be logically discussed, the possibility of a denial must be necessarily assumed; but mere doubt is as alien to Philosophy as to Religion, and is only to be valued as it leads to a fuller elucidation of the truth. what a sublimity of knowledge, to discover that nothing can be known! Oh, how radiant that wisdom, which demonstrates, in the face of the meridian sun, that he is mocking, and that there is no day! How unimpeachable is the certainty that nothing is certain; how undoubting is the belief that all things are doubtful! Behold our creed, our rule of life, our consolation; our faith, our strong tower, our buckler against all dangers! Oppressed, we doubt of Providence-and lo! how are

Oh,

we comforted; sick, we doubt of immortality-and lo! how ennobling is the contemplation! How heartily shall we hate vice, when we learn to doubt whether she be not virtue; how completely shall we love virtue, when we perceive that she cannot be discriminated from vice! Let scepticism become universal, and cheering, indeed, will be our prospects!

Scepticism is the very contrary of philosophy; it is not the love, but the hatred of wisdom. If the blindest ignorance can alone be satisfied with a bare denial, the most pitiable obstinacy can alone persist long in mere disbelief. To the ingenuous mind the state of doubt is one of painful anxiety and suspense. The cold and lifeless negative chills and freezes the whole intellectual being of the man; he feels himself an anomaly in the universe. Faith, in itself, is not a joy only, but a continual rapture. What hath doubt to hope? What hath faith to fear? At contradiction with himself and all around; wearied with searching, yet determined not to find; groping through the mazes of a labyrinth of shadows, anguished yet jesting; toiling to win disappointment as though he loved it; striving lest his condemnation should lack aught of its bitterness; the sceptic seeks to wrap up his wretchedness in the mantle of philosophy, and to solace himself with a name, madly rejecting the testimony of ages; laughing to scorn the witness of the wise; still must he make an idol for his worship, and that idol he nicknames philosophy! On this false shrine he offers up his incense; to this mock deity he dedicates his speculation: complaining of the intolerable yoke of the truth, he links worse fetters, and wears them rejoicingly; captive, he glories in his slavery; and if he must believe, rather than believe revelation, he believes his own lie! But philosophy disowns him! As fanaticism to religion, so is mere negation to philosophy-an equal fraud or madness.

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In religion, fanaticism is generated of ignorance and of pride; in philosophy, scepticism is an hideous abortion of the same fruitful parents. It is easy to deny; it is easy to assert witnesses deceived or perjured; it is easy to invent dogmas to invalidate testimony; it is easy to indicate how that testimony might have been more conclusively corroborated; it easy to suppose circumstances to prove other circumstances improbable to do all this requires little industry, and less learning. Equally easy is it to publish mysterious revelations, to advance pretensions to extraordinary and inexplicable gifts, and to substitute the fevers of imagination for the transports of faith. The human mind is naturally ambitious; and by each of these means, the ignorant, the uninstructed, and the self-willed have endeavoured to gain a name. Moreover, these extremes of false religion and of false philosophy mutually act and react one upon the other; as all extremes sympathise, scepticism and fanaticism have many characteristics in common. Both pretend to be what they are not; both are superficial, hollow, and inconsistent; both are equally inimical to human progress; both are equally workers of vanity; and both equally obscure knowledge. Where the one is, the other is sure not to be far distant; for, as vice can only argue

against virtue by charging her with the deceptions of hypocrisy, so scepticism can only argue against religion by identifying her with the extravagances of fanaticism.

The fanatic and sceptic are, in spirit, essentially one. From the same armoury do they derive their weapons; the same sophistry suffices for them both. Each arrogantly maintains his own self-sufficiency; each exalts his own testimony, and impugns all other. Each presumes the whole world deceived except himself; each thinks his own beggarly apprehensions the highest wisdom; each haughtily refuses to be admonished of his error. But between them, nevertheless, there exists deadly animosity-an animosity aggravated by the similarity of their nature and their aim. Each beholds in the other a dangerous rival, by which its influence is limited, its manifestations antagonised. This quarrel they might be left to fight out to the death, if they entered the arena in their proper characters; but, to add to the bitterness of the conflict, scepticism attacks fanaticism as religion, and fanaticism attacks scepticism as philosophy. These venerable names, thus dishonoured, their true lovers are dragged into the contest; and, ultimately, whom God hath joined together, the presumption of man violently rives assunder.

The perception of this fact will explain the procedure observed by Gibbon and other historians, who have injuriously usurped reputation as "philosophic." Through lack of candour, and the white light of that philosophy whose name they profane, they are unable to discrimi nate the false from the true, the reality from the simulation, and involve both in one common condemnation. For instance: Gibbon in one of his notes, chooses to remark, "That the dispensations of Providence may be easily vindicated by naming the misfortunes of the just trials, of the unjust judgements." This proposition is put forward as if it were indeed the doctrine of Christians on the subject, and then quietly sneered at, as such. Fanatics have presumed, nay, do presume, to magnify the misfortunes of their opponents into the especial judgement of the Most High; but Gibbon must have known, that by the conscientious Christian the impiety is uniformly repudiated. And even if some eminent Christians have unhappily entertained a similar sentiment, what right had he to assume that their dicta on the matter is universally accepted as infallible, in spite of the clearest evidence before his eyes to the contrary? But, granting him entitled to state the proposition, surely he was bound to state it in its completeness. If the misfortunes of the just are to be esteemed trials, must not their successes be accounted rewards? If so, it would still remain to be proved that these rewards are ever withheld when righteously due; and, as for as the rest, who hath so perfect a knowledge of the heart of his fellow as to be able to decide any man to be punished less, or rewarded more than he deserves? Certainly not the historian, who gleans his scanty information from the reports, perhaps mistaken, perhaps prejudiced, perhaps sophisticated, invariably incomplete, which may have survived the lapse of time.

It is not, however, by such arguments, even when stated in the

fullest and fairest manner, that the Christian seeks to vindicate the ways of God to man. Too well is he aware of their utter fallacy. Far is he from being too anxious to name his own misfortunes and trials, at least in the self-complacent sense insinuated; and with, regard to judgements, he pretends not to read the decrees of the Almighty. He challenges no reward, for he is aware how lamentably he has fallen short of excellence; he complains not of Providence, for he confesses that, though he has deserved nothing, he has received much. Of debt, he claims not aught; of grace, he celebrates the fullness. And shall he, whom grace hath rescued from condemnation, dare to set bounds to that grace? Is it for him to say, "Lord, this man is unholy; wherefore favourest thou him?" The same sun shines on the just and on the unjust; for either needs the same salvation. And therefore should the just man vaunt himself? Wherefore is he just? Of himself? Grace hath preserved him, grace hath renewed him, grace sustaineth him. He might have been the worst of sinners, but he is not; the paths of peace might have been barred against him, but they are not; he hath grieved the Holy One, but he hath not been left. He might have been lost, but he is saved. Thirsty, he hath partaken freely of the waters without money and without price; poor and forsaken, he hath riches which the world can neither bestow nor take away. Can man, then, impeach that Providence, which, though it had withheld all that he hath, had still been equitable?

But faith, the truest philosophy, can show the course of Providence to be susceptible even of an historical vindication. Beneath the surface of events mighty principles have ever been at work, which, through tribulation, and anguish, and sorrow, have prepared the regeneration of the human race. Though that, indeed, be not yet complete, though the struggle be not yet concluded, history has become a testimony, in which may be read how just and how wonderful are the ways of our God. We can discern even now, though as through a glass darkly, how all events have tended to one great result, partially veiled in mystery, yet sufficiently displayed to demonstrate its perfect wisdom, and to fill the humble and contrite with hope and joy. It is not for the fate of princes, of dynasties, of empires, that we search history; it is not to disinter the rancour of past ages; it is not to condemn men, or to violate those holy charities which hold the dead sacred from contumely and reproach: but it is to appreciate the progress of principles, their successes, their oppositions, and their vicissitudes; to test their weakness, and to analyse their strength. This is the right use of history; for this alone hath it value and significance. With aught but principles, we have not to deal; and only with these as they are essentially, not as they may accidently seem, under particular circumstances or isolated phases of exhibition.

An objection may be urged, that for this purpose history is too vague and indistinct; that most men see through the eyes of prejudice, and will read history, not to find the truth, but a confirmation of their errors. We grant the validity of the objection in the case supposed. History is no oracle, but merely a mass of evidence, which ignorance

may distort, or interest misrepresent. We must always presume the sincerity and competence of the enquirer; that he is actuated, not by the zeal of party, but by the zeal of knowledge and of wisdom. He who reads history for the uses of party strife, equally with him who reads Scripture for the same end, can expect no blessing to descend upon his labours, while the unlearned and unstable wrest either equally to their destruction. And no man is obliged to accept the interpretation of another; the means of investigation are open to him likewise. Nay, we wish him to investigate, to deduce the verdict for himself. We appeal not to prejudices-no, nor to names, though they be honoured by time, and hallowed by the holiest associations; we appeal to the enlightened conscience of the Christian. By the response which he finds there, would we be judged; by that would we stand or fall. We do interpret, but upon our own responsibility, the voices of Scripture and of history: those voices have we questioned conscientiously, and sought their answers in the spirit of prayer; but we endow our interpretation with no more authority than may be righteously awarded to sincerity

of heart.

We have ourselves already reiterated the fact of the vagueness and indistinctness of history. Although it be true, that the historian should ever consider himself as giving evidence upon oath ;* yet, too frequently degraded into the mere apologist, he has often mutilated his testimony, if he has not entirely falsified it. He is a man, and subject to human infirmity: his judgement may be incorrect, though his mind be unbiassed; his materials may be deficient, though his industry be indefatigable. But to the upright and philosophic Christian these are not insuperable difficulties-the prejudiced historian is himself an evidence of the power and prevalence of the principle which he defends. In his page, we possess the account which it gives of itself; its own representation of how it struggled, how it wrought, how it prospered, or how it failed. And human infirmities have also their compensations. The minutiae of history, the precise accuracy of a date, the details of a battle, or the issues of a campaign, we commit to the scholar, who is able to devote his time and talents to the labours of historical criticism. Such labours are valuable to history as science, inasmuch as they conduce to its exactness, and make it consistent with itself; but in the great revolution of human progress, and the rise and fall of principles, the faithful truth-searcher cannot be deceived. These revolutions, these principles, belong not to particular nations, depend not on a single series of events, but underlie all history, are universal, and, though they may be misinterpreted, are not to be shaken; history, if it is to teach us aught, must not be split into portions; it must be taken in its integrity as a whole. In its fragmentary state, as generally studied, history is uselessly perplexing, and altogether without plan or

* Gibbon has left us this excellent rule-would that he had uniformly adhered to it himself!