phors not so familiar to our minds. I had, indeed, frequently dwelt upon that passage; but its meaning remained always enveloped in a mist, till, as it were, by the innate attraction of truth to truth, the result of my thoughts on orthodoxy and these remarkable words of Paul ran, like two kindred drops, into each other, forming, in my mind, a clear, full, and definite notion. This cannot be the effect of chance.

LETTER II.

ON HERESY AND ORTHODOXY.

MY DEAR FRIEND,

NOTHING weighs so heavily upon my mind, when engaged on theological subjects, as the constant fear of being misunderstood, and the habitual conviction, that no care on my part can possibly avert that danger. A most distinguished writer on the theory of morals (Sir James Mackintosh) complains, ina striking manner, of the almost insuperable difficulty which popular language presents to the philosopher who undertakes to throw light on the subject of man considered as a moral, responsible, and improvable agent*. Yet that obstacle, in philosophy, appears reduced to the dimensions of a molehill, when compared with the mountain which the popular language of theology, and the prejudices inseparably connected with it, cast up in the way of any man who, in the examination of Christianity, ventures to leave the beaten path of scholasticism. The most important words of the New Testament have not only received an indelible false stamp from the hands of the old schoolmen, but, those words having, since the reformation, become common property in the language of the country, are, as it were, thickly incrusted with the most vague, incorrect, and vulgar notions. Thus the word faith (for instance), which, at the hands of the Romanist divines, had been nearly deprived of its original meaning, trust, which is directly and almost exclusively conveyed by TíCTIC, is still further perverted, by common usage among Protestants, to signify an enthusiastic ardour in asserting what

* See Discourse prefixed to the Encyclopædia Britannica. It would do great credit to the proprietors of that work to publish that admirable discourse in such a form as would make it generally accessible.

they can neither prove nor express to themselves in definite terms. The faith preached by the Roman Catholics, as the only way to salvation, is an act of mental obedience to the Catholic church, that infallible judge which they suppose to exist somewhere. The faith of many Protestants is an act of passionate asseveration grounded only upon the feelings of each individual, and rendered unalterable by the stubbornness with which they close their eyes, that they may not see any reason to

waver.

How, under such circumstances, can misunderstanding be avoided? The investigation of truth, as in theory it is universally acknowledged, demands perfect composure of mind, and the absence of all disturbing passions. But is it possible for a writer who does not flatter popular notions in divinity to obtain many readers in that state of mind? Can a man who calls upon people, urging their duty to examine their religious notions, and to take the necessary trouble for separating truth from error, avoid giving offence? No. The strongest tendency of the human mind, in respect to religion, is to save itself trouble, either by embracing a superstitious and indiscriminate system of belief, or by dismissing the subject as totally unworthy of attention. Nearly hopeless, however, as this latter state of mind must appear to the theological writer, it is, in reality, preferable to that of the impassioned believer. The most frequent cause of unbelief, which I have observed in this country, is disgust, produced, on the one hand, by misrepresentations of Christianity, which defy reason and common sense; and, on the other, by a morbid enthusiasm, which may be, and frequently is, combined with the ambition and selfishness of minds of the lowest description. Now, if a theological writer succeeds in removing from himself the suspicion of his belonging to either of those classes, there are honest and upright men, who, in spite of their prejudices against Christianity, will listen to him with temper and candour. Not so the impassioned believer in his case, the great difficulty is, to prevent him from taking his own hasty inferences for your statements. The direct opposite of the proposition which you wish to modify and explain, is instantly assumed as your meaning. If you endeavour, for instance, to ascertain with any de

gree of precision the notion of INSPIRATION, you are, without appeal, reckoned among those who consider the sacred writers as men of the common stamp which belonged to their original station in life. If you venture to suggest the probability of some one interpolation in the Bible, you are no longer believed when you assert the general and substantial genuineness of the whole. I cannot but fear, therefore, that in consequence of what I have said respecting the simple condition demanded by the apostles for admission into the society of Christians, I shall be accused of having reduced the gospel to an empty name. But whatever may be the injustice of others towards me, I feel assured that you, at all events, will candidly hear me to the end; allowing me, besides, to endeavour, by insisting upon the arguments already adduced, to set them in a clearer light, and thus prevent, as much as I am able, the misunderstandings which, more for the sake of Christian truth than for my own, I confess that I greatly dread. I shall, therefore, say a few words of explanation relative to that part of my former letter, where I spoke of the original terms of admission into the church. I shall, in the next place, add some other considerations which confirm my view. But I must previously remind you of the nature of the argument contained in that letter.

You must have frequently observed the hopelessness of the attempts which are constantly made to establish various points of Christian doctrine, by logical arguments founded on detached texts of scripture. You must have seen regular collections of passages, selected with the utmost patience, and arranged into classes with great ingenuity. Of this kind of theological works I do not remember any one more complete than that by which Dr. Samuel Clarke wished to prove his notions of the Trinity. But similar instances are not unfrequent in fact, most works on controversial divinity are attempts of the same kind to draw some abstract proposition as the unquestionable result of the various expressions of scripture upon the given subject. You cannot but have observed, moreover, how short all such attempts fall of the intended object; how very seldom any one is convinced by such works, unless, by a predisposition of the will, he

reads them, in order fully to become or to continue of the same opinion.

I do not mean (and here is an instance of the constant call for explanation) that the scriptures, especially those of the New Testament, are incapable of conveying a clear and definite sense upon any subject. My observations are confined to the metaphysical points upon which the most pious and most learned Christians are divided; those points, in fact, which relate to the nature and modes of existence of the Deity, the supposed multiplicity of his personality, and the laws according to which he operates upon the human soul, and its principal faculties, intellect, and will. In order that I may protect myself against the cavils to which an imperfect enumeration of such subjects might expose me, I need only say, that I speak of the topics directly connected with these letters; those, namely, upon which the Christian world is divided into ORTHODOX and HETERODOX. Upon such notions of God and his moral character, which are both conceivable by man, and morally useful to him; upon our relations to our heavenly Father, and to his Son, the Saviour, his great messenger; upon our mutual duties in this state of discipline, and our hopes in a future state of retribution: upon such matters nothing can exceed the clearness of the New Testament. The proof of that clearness is found in the agreement of Christians in all times and places. The ravings of enthusiasm, certain kind of hypocrites,

and the systematic profligacy of a who now and then have ventured to question the sense of the scriptures on such subjects, do no more prove their obscurity, than the existence of a few human monsters prove an uncertainty in the first moral dictates of our conscience. Absolute certainty, certainty which the passions may not obscure, cannot exist where the will is concerned.

Now, my argument against the necessity of Orthodoxy, i. e. the necessity of taking the right side (as it is known to God) on any one of the points of doctrine which divide the Christian world, depends entirely upon the unquestionable fact, that whichever view we choose, there are arguments in favour of the other, strong enough to convince men most able to investigate