From this account of things some very important considerations follow, a few of which I will endeavour to sum up in three heads. The scientific value of Revelation as a necessity, if there is to be any vital and practical religion at all, will, I hope, have been sufficiently indicated already.

(1.) The lines of a long and, perhaps, never-ending conflict between the spirit of Religion and what, for want of a better word, I will call the spirit of Rationalism, are here defined. Neither of the two being able by mere argument to convince the other, they must rely upon gradually leavening the minds of men with prepossessions in the direction which each respectively favours. The time may come when Rationalism will have so far prevailed that a belief in the miraculous will have disappeared; the time may also come when the Christian Revelation, historically accepted, will everywhere be adopted as God's account to man of ultimate incomprehensibilities. Surely, no man who has ever fairly examined his own consciousness can deny that elements leading to either of these two conclusions exist within his own mind. He must be a very hardened believer to whom the doubt, "Is the miraculous really possible?" never suggested itself. And he must in turn be a very unscientific Rationalist who has never caught himself wondering whether, after all, the Resurrection did not take place. Nor, so far as we may at this epoch discern the probable direction of the contest, is it possible to estimate very accurately the influence which science will exercise upon it. On the one hand, it will certainly bring within the mental grasp of common men that view of law and causation which, in Hume's time, was confined to philosophers and their followers, and was attained rather by intellectual conceptions than by such common experiences of every-day life and thought as we have at present. On the other hand, it will purge religion of its more monstrous dogmas, and further, by calling attention to the necessity of proving fact by fact, and again, by clearing up the laws of evidence, will tend to deepen in the minds of religious people the value and meaning 'of Revelation; while, at the same time, by its frank admission of hopeless ignorance, it will concede to faith a place in the realm of fact. Every man will have his own views as to the issue of the conflict: for the present it is sufficient for him, if he can be fully satisfied in his own mind.

(2.) The predisposition in men's minds in favour, whether of Religion or Rationalism, will be created and sustained solely by moral means. This is the conclusion toward which I have been steadily working from the beginning of this paper to the end of it. The intellect of both Christian and Rationalist will have its part to play; but that part will consist in presenting, teaching, and enforcing each its own morality upon the minds of men. I need not say

that I use the word morality as expressing in the widest sense all that is proper for and worthy of humanity, and not merely in the narrower sense of individual goodness. Rationalism will approach mankind rather upon the side of the virtues of the intellect. It will uphold the need of caution in our assent, the duty of absolute conviction, the self-sufficiency of men, the beauty of law, the glory of working for posterity, and the true humility of being content to be ignorant where knowledge is impossible. Religion will appeal to man's hopes and wishes recorded in nature and in history, to his yearnings for affection, to his sense of sin, to his passion for life and duty, which death cuts short. And that one of the two which is truest to humanity, which lays down the best code of duty, and creates the strongest capacity for accomplishing it, will, in the long run, prevail; a conclusion which science, so far as it believes in man, and religion, so far as it believes in God, must adopt. Here, once more, it is well-nigh impossible to discern the immediate direction of the conflict, whatever may be our views as to its ultimate decision. Science is almost creating a new class of virtues; it is laying its finger with unerring accuracy upon the faults of the old morality; it is calling into existence a passion for intellectual truth. But then religion has always given the strongest proofs of her vitality by her power of assimilating (however slowly) new truths, and of rejecting (alas! how tardily) old falsehoods, at the demands of reason and discovery. A religious man can always say that Christians, and not Christianity, are responsible for what goes amiss. It is because religious practice never has been, and is at this moment almost less than ever, up to the standard of what religious theory exacts, that we may have confidence in gradual improvement and advance, until that standard, towards the formation of which science will have largely contributed, be attained.

(3.) Closely connected with the above, follows the proposition that all attempts on the part of religion to confute the "sceptic" by purely intellectual methods are worse than useless. There is no intellectual short cut to the Christian faith; it must be built up in the minds of men by setting forth a morality that satisfies their nature, consecrates humanity, and establishes society. It is not because men love the truth, but because they hate their enemies, that in things religious they desire to have what they can call an overwhelming preponderance of argument on their side of the question, the possession of which enables them to treat their opponents as knaves or fools or both. Religion may have been the first to set this pernicious example, but, judging from the tone of much modern writing, Rationalism has somewhat bettered her instructions. No doubt it is a tempting thing to mount a big pulpit, and then and there, with much intellectual pomp, to slay the absent infidel-absent no less.

from the preacher's argument than from his audience. Delightful it may be, but all the more dangerous, because it plunges men at once into that error, so hateful to modern thought, of affirming that intellectual mistakes are moral delinquencies. No one, least of all science, denies that men are responsible for the consequences of their belief, provided these consequences are limited to such as are capable of being recognised and foreseen, and are not extended to comprehend endless perdition in a future state-an idea which is supposed, rightly or wrongly, to lurk beneath the preacher's logical utterances, and which religion has done next to nothing to disavow. And so we come to this conclusion: to build up by precept and example a sound and sufficient morality; to share in all the hopes and aspirations of humanity; to be foremost in practical reforms; to find what the instincts of mankind blindly search for by reference to the character of God finally revealed in Christ, and to the hope of immortality which his Resurrection brought to light; to endeavour to clear religion from the reproach of credulity, narrowness, timidity, and bitter sectarian zeal ;-these are, as our Master Himself assured us, the only means of engendering in the hearts of men that moral quality which we call Faith: for "HE THAT IS OF THE TRUTH HEARETH MY VOICE."

In a future paper I hope to show, by reference to the facts of man's nature, how this faith in immortality is being, and is to be, so far wrought into his mind as to form a predisposition towards a belief in the Christian doctrine of the Resurrection of Christ as a proof of that which he cannot help but desire to believe.

T. W. FOWLE.

HENRY WARD BEECHER.

PART II.

MR.

Theology and Life.

R. WARD BEECHER'S Theology is able, but not from a theologian's point of view. It is what the Evangelical would call "unsafe," and what a Ritualist would call "loose," and if safety depends on "system," and salvation on "tightness," there is little hope for Mr. Beecher and his followers in this world or in the world

to come.

When we call his theology" able," we mean that it is admirably fitted to produce the kind of effect which Mr. Beecher has set his heart on producing. It will not make casuists, but it will make men.

It will not always give a man arguments, but it is sure to inspire him with principles. It will not settle every difficulty, but it will give life such a moral resilience as shall enable those who are in earnest to rise to the occasion and master circumstances. He who looks for a compact and logical scheme of theology-plan of salvation, or any other plan--will be disappointed; but he who goes to Mr. Beecher to learn his duty and get motives for doing it, will not be disappointed.

It is, then, with feelings of unmixed satisfaction that we now proceed to leave the theological arena, fascinating as are many of its spectacles, and go forth into the more or less common and despised world of what we may call

"SECULAR TRUTH."

Under this wide and somewhat confused term, we might proceed to fill many whole numbers of the Contemporary Review, taking as our texts certain passages from the six volumes of Sermons before us. There is hardly a little by-way or alley in the great "City of Life" into which Mr. Beecher does not enter at some time or other. There is something of the genial Socrates spirit about him. He will be everywhere a man amongst men. We can imagine him in the midst of just such scenes as the wandering philosopher of old loved to frequent. Here is a crowd gathering; but who is this fine, muscular fellow, courteously but firmly pushing his way into the centre of it, to find out what is the matter? Some one has fallen down in the street-that is all. Drunk or in a fit? That interests Mr. Beecher

—it is his business; at all events to the nearest store "the man

must be taken-must be taken in-must be taken care of.

A wandering circus! Can that have anything to do with an earnest preacher? Yes; there is a man there "built like a second. Apollo, magnificent in every physical excellence, and as handsome as a god." That is important-that makes a cord vibrate in his heart -he pauses to tell a story about him which brings out a trait of moral excellence as well, and completes the man.

With the firm touch of a master moralist, he is not afraid to cull his illustrations from a strolling player, a circus, and a very doubtful romance of real life ::

"A young lady of one of the very first families there, attracted by his beauty and grace, became enamoured of this athlete. He, of course, complimented, reciprocated this wild attachment; and in the enthusiasm and ardour of her unregulated and foolish affection she proposed an elopement to him. Ordinarily a man would have been more than proud, because she was heir to countless wealth apparently, and certainly stood second to none there, but with an unexpected manliness which surprised everybody, he said to her, 'No; I cannot afford to have you despise me. I am older than you, and although I am highly complimented and pleased, by-and-by you would reproach me, and say that I ought to have taught you better, and ought to have done otherwise. I will carry you back to your friends. I will not permit you to sacrifice yourself on me.' And he refused to take advantage of the opportunity which she offered him.

"Ten thousand men admired this man's athletic skill in the circus; but when that story was known, every one of them thought infinitely more of him than they did before. Here were two traits," &c. (Series iii. 252.)

It is a busy time in the afternoon-the stores in the principal streets of New York are crowded. We can imagine Mr. Beecher coming in; and wanting to know the price of grain, he takes up a handful-sifts it with the air of a connoisseur-tells the owner