If the Church party stands at one extreme, Methodism, in all its forms, stands at the other. The Roman Catholic Church sums up all the inspirations of the past, collects in its large _repertoire_ all ancient liturgies, all saintly lives, all sacred customs, and so brings an imposing authority, a reverend antiquity, made up of the best history of man. Methodism drops the past, and finds G.o.d in the present-in present inspirations, in the newly-converted soul, born out of darkness into light, by the immediate coming of the Spirit of G.o.d. According to the Catholic Church the Christian life commences with an outward act,-that of baptism,-and is carried on by outward sacraments; according to Methodism, the Christian life begins with an inward emotional experience,-the spiritual new birth,-and is carried on by successive emotions of penitence, faith, hope, joy, and pious devotion. According to Catholicism, the one thing needful is the outward sacramental union with the Church; according to Methodism, the one thing needful is the inward emotional union with the Holy Spirit.

-- 10. The Faith Party in Religion.

If Churchism and Moralism place the essence of Christianity in action, and Emotionalism puts it in feeling, Orthodoxy places it in something intellectual, which it calls faith. All the sects of Christendom do, indeed, place faith at the root of the Christian life; but some make it essentially an intellectual act, others essentially affectionate, and others an act of will. Orthodoxy makes it, in substance, a sight of faith, or an act of looking at spiritual realities. Sometimes it is called a realizing sense of spiritual things. But, at all events, the sight of truth is considered the beginning and root of religion by the Orthodox party in the Church. We are saved by the word of truth; and the Saviour himself is called "the Word,"-belief in whom const.i.tutes eternal life.

Rationally, it is argued that the essential difference between the Christian and the unbeliever, or the unchristian, must lie in seeing Christ or not seeing him. The first step in the religious life always consists in looking at the truth.

-- 11. Truth in the Orthodox Idea.

Admitting, then, what all these systems and parties in the Church unite in a.s.serting,-that an act of faith is always at the foundation of every Christian state and of all Christian experience,-we ask, Which is the most essential element in faith-will, intellect, or affection? Is an act of faith chiefly an act of the will, a determination, or is it a loving desire, or a state of knowledge, a looking at truth? Suppose we call it a state of love, for this reason, that in order to be good, the first thing requisite is to wish to be good. A longing for goodness, it may be said, must precede everything else. But what makes us long for goodness, if we _do_ desire it? What shall produce that longing, if it does not exist? The only answer must be, The sight of truth. The sight of G.o.d's holiness and of G.o.d's tenderness, the sight of law and gospel, whatever shows us the beauty of goodness and the meanness of sin, must come first to awaken this desire. Or suppose it be said that the essential thing in faith is the active element, because it is submitting to G.o.d's law, trusting in his help, coming to the truth, opening the heart to the Holy Spirit,-all of which are determinations of the will. We must reply, True; but these determinations will never be taken unless we first _see_ the will of G.o.d to which we submit, see the salvation of G.o.d on which we lean, know that there is a truth to which we may come, know that there is a Holy Spirit, in order to ask for it.

So that, on the whole, we may say that Orthodoxy is right in making the sight of truth the beginning of the Christian life, and the beginning of every Christian state, act, or experience. All human goodness is the reflection of G.o.d's goodness; it all has its source in the sight of a divine holiness, truth, beauty. This is the fundamental idea of Orthodoxy, and in this Orthodoxy is right.

It is no answer to this to say that man has an instinctive longing for goodness, which causes him to feel after G.o.d before he finds him. For what are these instincts themselves, as soon as they begin to act, but the voice of G.o.d speaking in the soul, showing it some glimpses of a divine truth? The longing in the soul must be aroused by the sight or knowledge of something better than that which one has or is. Consequently, we say again, that the sight of truth is that which saves the soul, and first creates in it a better life.

If we make Christianity to be essentially obedience, we make of it, at last, an oppressive form. If we consider it as essentially an emotional experience, we destroy its moral character; for emotion is both pa.s.sive and blind, while the definition of morality is the freely choosing what we see to be right. Ecclesiasticism and Emotionalism both tend to demoralize Christianity. They remove from it the element of moral freedom in the interest either of Church authority or of mystical piety. Then Christianity must come anew, in the form of truth, to purify the air, and renew the moral life of society.

Protestantism arose in this way, to salt the corrupting Church.

Ecclesiasticism, in its well-meant efforts at training men, by a complete discipline, to a perfect virtue, had suppressed the individual love of truth to such an extent, that religion had become a mere surface, without substance. Jesuitism abolished the distinction between things right and wrong in themselves, and made right to consist solely in the intention; that is, made it wholly subjective. The Lutheran reformation was the revival of the intellect in regard to religion-the demand for conviction instead of a.s.sent; for the sight of G.o.d in place of obedience to the Church. It repeated, with an emphasis adapted to the needs of the sixteenth century, the words of Jesus, "This is life eternal, to _know_ thee, the only true G.o.d, and Jesus Christ whom thou hast sent." In these words is the sufficient defence of Protestantism. It was the cry of the soul to _know_ G.o.d, and not merely to a.s.sent to what the Church taught concerning him; it was the longing to _know_ Christ, and not to repeat by rote the creeds of the first centuries, and the definitions of mediaeval doctors in regard to him. In a subsequent chapter we shall consider the truth and error in the Protestant principle of justification by faith. Our purpose here is to show that the truth in Orthodoxy is identical with the truth in Protestantism. Both place, as the root of all religion, an individual personal sight of G.o.d and truth. To this, freedom of thought is an essential means. Right thinking involves free thinking. If to know the truth makes us free, freedom, again, is the condition of knowing the truth. Protestantism and Orthodoxy have often attempted to limit the application of this principle. Protestants, as well as Catholics, have persecuted heretics. But while Catholics, in doing this, have been faithful to their own idea, and have therefore made of persecution a system, Protestants have been vacillating and undecided persecutors. They have been drawn in opposite directions by antagonist principles.

Fundamentally, Protestantism, as such, claims for all the rights of private judgment, and is, therefore, in its whole stress and influence, opposed to persecution, and in favor of religious liberty. It has conquered the Catholic Church on this point so far as to compel it to renounce the practice of persecution, if it has not relinquished the theory. During three centuries Protestantism has been, more and more, emanc.i.p.ating the human mind-making it the duty, and consequently the right, of every human being to see truth for himself. It has been drawn into inconsistencies by its belief in the saving power of certain doctrines, and the supreme importance of believing them. On one hand it has claimed, with a trumpet voice, the freedom of conscience and opinion for all, and then has cried out against those who freely came to opinions differing from its own.

But, notwithstanding these inconsistencies, Protestantism has steadily given freedom of spirit to mankind. And with the awakened and emanc.i.p.ated intellect all the elements of progress have shown themselves in Protestant lands. In 1517, when Luther nailed his theses to the church door, Italy, Spain, and Portugal were far in advance of Northern Europe in civilization. In commerce, art, and literature, Italy was the queen of Europe. In military force, extent of possessions, and unbounded wealth, Spain was the leading power of the world. The Portuguese mariners had ransacked every sea, and discovered new continents and islands in every zone. How insignificant, in comparison with these great nations, were England, Holland, and Germany! But England, Holland, and Germany became Protestant; Italy, Spain, and Portugal remained Catholic; while France and Austria adopted a half-way Catholicism.

The result has been, in the course of three centuries, a complete reversal of the position. The last have become first, and the first last. What now has become of the terrible power of Spain, the enterprise of Portugal, the art and literature of Italy? When the element of Protestantism was crushed out of these nations by the Inquisition, the principle of national progress was also destroyed. But the northern powers who accepted the Lutheran reform received with it the germs of progress. Holland, Denmark, Norway, Sweden, Prussia, Saxony, England, and Scotland, have, by a steady progress in civilization, wealth, knowledge, and morality, conclusively demonstrated the impulse of progress contained in the Protestant idea.

So far, therefore, as this great experiment, continued during three hundred years, can prove anything, it proves the truth of the central idea of Protestantism and Orthodoxy, namely, that saving faith is essentially not emotional nor volitional, but intellectual.

-- 12. Error in the Orthodox Principle.

We are well aware of the reply which might be made, from the stand-point of Ecclesiasticism, to the historical argument just given. The Roman Catholic might answer thus: "We admit that the tree must be known by its fruits; but the tree of true Christianity is known by bearing the fruits of Christianity, not those of worldly civilization. Suppose that England is to-day richer than Italy, more powerful than Spain; is she _better_?

Are there more piety and more morality in Protestant than in Catholic countries? In which communities do you find the most humility, simplicity, religious faith, reverence for religious inst.i.tutions, fear of G.o.d? In which do you find most of sympathy, kindliness, good will from man to man?

The fierce civilization of Protestantism is hard, cold, and cruel. It tramples under its feet the weak. It acc.u.mulates wealth and power; but are these Christianity? Is London or Rome the best model of a Christian city?

Is it London, with its terrible contrasts of enormous wealth and naked want, its proud aristocracy and brutalized mob, its empty churches and illuminated gin-shops? or is it not rather Rome, poorer in material wealth and luxury, but rich in grace-Rome, with its odor of sanct.i.ty about it; its numerous churches, on which art has lavished her resources to make them worthy to be the temples of G.o.d-Rome, with its priests and monks; its religious houses, the centres of the great religious orders, whose missions have been known in the four quarters of the earth? Protestant countries may have a higher worldly civilization, more education and intelligence, more manufactures and commerce; but Catholic countries have more humility and reverence, a more habitual piety, more gentle manners.

If Protestants have more _knowledge_, Catholics have more _love_."

And we, though Protestants of the Protestants, must admit that there is some truth in this. The discipline of Romanism has repressed some amount of evil which the liberty of Protestant lands has allowed to appear. But repressed evil is none the less evil, and often works a greater inward corruption than when it is allowed to show itself as it is. We may also admit that while in Protestantism there is more of TRUTH, and all the virtues which go therewith,-such as honesty, manliness, self-respect, conscientiousness,-in Catholic countries there is more of LOVE, and all the virtues which follow it,-as kindly, genial manners, ready sympathy with suffering, a spirit of dependence and trust. Still, this does not prove that there is more real Christianity among Catholics; for love which does not grow out of the sight of truth is not genuine nor healthy. Its life is weak. Protestant Christianity is an immature fruit, harsh because not quite ripe. Catholic Christianity is a fruit over-ripe, and so rotten.

Therefore we still contend that Protestantism and Orthodoxy are right in making the free and independent sight of truth the root of all religion.

But the mistake of Orthodoxy has been in confounding truth with doctrine-the sight of the thing with the theory about that sight. From hence come the hardness and coldness of Orthodoxy. Pure thought is always cold, and ought to be. The sight of spiritual things is truth and love in one; but when we begin to reflect on that sight, the love drops out, and the truth becomes cold.

The defect of the Orthodox principle, therefore, is the confusion of truth with belief. Out of this mistake come dogmatism, bigotry, and all their natural consequences. It is therefore well, before going farther, to explain more fully this distinction and its importance.

-- 13. Faith, Knowledge, Belief, Opinion.

Religion originates at every moment, from looking at truth. Now, there are four kinds of looking; _faith_, which is intuitive looking; _knowledge_, which is the intuition itself looked at by reflection, and so brought to consciousness; third, _belief_, which arranges the products of knowledge in systematic form, and makes them congruous with each other; and lastly comes _opinion_, which does not deal at all with things, but only with thoughts about things. By faith we see G.o.d; by knowledge we become conscious that we see G.o.d; by belief we arrange in order what we see; and by opinion we feel and grope among our thoughts, seeking what we may find of his works and ways. Every act of faith brings us into the presence of G.o.d himself, and makes us partakers of the divine nature. Thus faith is strictly and literally the substance of things hoped for, or the substance of hope.(6) Substance here has its etymological sense, and is the same word in Greek and English, meaning basis, foundation, support, or substruction. It is the inward experience by which we come in contact with invisible things, as perception is the experience by which we come in contact with visible things.

These steps of intellectual activity may be called by other names than these. What we (with Jacobi) call faith,(7) may be denominated "intuition"

(with the transcendentalists), reason (with Coleridge), G.o.d-consciousness (with Schleiermacher), or anschauungs-vermogen (with Sch.e.l.ling and others). But, by whatever name we call this power, we say there _is_ a power in man by which he can see spiritual facts, as with his earthly senses he can perceive sensible facts. If he has no such power, he is incapable of knowing G.o.d, but can only have an opinion that there is a G.o.d. But if he can know G.o.d, this knowledge rests on something back of reasoning or reflection; it must rest on an intuition or spiritual perception. And this, for our present purpose, we call faith. By means of it we know the spiritual world, just as we know the material world through sight, touch, and hearing. The senses are the organs by which we perceive material things; intuition, or faith, the organ by which we perceive spiritual things. He who denies the existence of such a power in man, falls necessarily into dogmatism on the one hand, or rationalism on the other. But as these words also take a very different sense on different lips, we explain ourselves by saying that he puts either a theory or an inference in the place of G.o.d. If orthodox, he puts a theory; if sceptical, an inference. Mr. Mansell does the first, Herbert Spencer the other. Neither of them believes that we can _know_ G.o.d's existence. So dogmatism and scepticism join hands. All the consequences described in the beginning of this chapter follow as a matter of course when an opinion or theory is put in the place of truth. Then come the inflexible narrowness of bigotry, the hot zeal of the persecutor, the sectarian strife which has torn the Church in twain. The remedy and prevention for these are to recognize that the basis of religion is in faith, in a living sight of G.o.d, the soul, duty, immortality, which are always and forever the same.

The best definitions of faith, by theologians of all schools, include the notion of insight, will, and affection. It is an act of the soul by which it looks at truth. But this act implies a desire to see and know the truth. Now, such an act as this lies at the root of all our knowledge, both of the material and spiritual world. How do I know the outward world?

The pa.s.sive exercise of sensation would never give such knowledge. The sights which enter the pa.s.sive eye, the sounds which fill the pa.s.sive ear, the feelings which affect the pa.s.sive sense, give no real knowledge of outward things. That comes, not from sensation merely, but from sensation changed into experience by a voluntary activity. We must not only see, but _look_; not only hear, but _listen_; not only feel, but _touch_, in order to know. _Life_, therefore, the constant synthesis of these three elements,-life which, in every act, at once thinks, feels, and does,-alone gives us knowledge. Divorce _thought_ from affection and will, and let it act by itself, and it does not give knowledge; it only gives belief or opinion. Knowledge comes only from experience-and experience means communion. Communion with Nature by thought, desire, and action gives us the knowledge of Nature; communion with G.o.d by thought, desire, and act, gives us the knowledge of G.o.d. The organ by which we commune with G.o.d is faith; it includes the desire of knowing G.o.d, and the act of looking to him in order to know him.

KNOWLEDGE of G.o.d, of immortality, and of spiritual things does not come from any process of reasoning on the one hand, nor from any single intuition of reason. Just so we do not know the material world by a process of reasoning on the one hand, or any single sensible perception on the other. _All knowledge comes from life_; or, as the apostle John expresses it, "Life is the light of man." We become acquainted with outward nature by living processes-by repeated acts of sight, hearing, touch, taste. So we become acquainted with the spiritual world by repeated spiritual acts; by repeated processes of faith; by continued steps of devotion, submission, obedience, trust, love, prayer. In this way we come to _know_ G.o.d just as certainly, and just in the same way, as we know things visible or things audible.

But knowledge is not belief. Knowledge is the rooted conviction of the reality of certain facts or persons, derived from communing with those facts or persons. Belief is the intellectual a.s.sent to a proposition-a proposition formed by a.n.a.lytic and synthetic methods. We a.n.a.lyze our notion concerning any subject, and then arrange the results of this a.n.a.lysis in order, and deduce from them a proposition, a law. This we call our belief, or creed, concerning it. The substance of this belief is given us in life; the form of it comes from thinking or reasoning. But it is evident that such a belief differs in each individual according to his experience, and according to his habits of reasoning, and even according to his facility in expression. Moreover, knowledge and belief differ also in this, that knowledge places us in the presence of the reality, belief only in the presence of a proposition concerning it.

Thus John and James are friends. John _knows_ James through a long intercourse. He is just as certain in regard to the essential character of James as he is about his own. But if he tries to express this knowledge of James in the form of belief, he may evidently express it badly. He may fail from a defective a.n.a.lysis, or from imperfect powers of language.

On the other hand John may not know James at all. He may never have seen him. But he has heard about him from a mutual friend, in whose judgment he trusts, or from several persons, and so he has formed a very decided belief in regard to James. He has a creed about him, though he has never known him.

In the same way those who _know_ G.o.d truly and well, by the experience of obedience and prayer, may have a very erroneous belief concerning him.

Those who do not know him at all, by any personal experience, may have a very correct belief concerning him. But which saves the soul? Which governs the life? Which affects the heart? Evidently not the belief, but the knowledge.

We are not saved by any belief whatsoever concerning G.o.d or Christ, concerning sin or salvation, concerning duty or destiny. Belief brings us into contact with the images of things, not the things themselves. Belief has no saving power. But knowledge has. "This is life eternal, to KNOW thee, the only true G.o.d, and Jesus Christ, whom thou hast sent."

It is therefore a great mistake when Orthodoxy or Rationalism reverses the axiom of John, and instead of saying, "Life is the light of man," tells us that "Light is the life of man." Knowledge comes from life. Belief comes from knowledge, and not the contrary.

The PRINCIPLE of Orthodoxy, as stated at the commencement of this chapter (in -- 1), is, that there is one true system of Christian doctrine, and that all others are false. The IDEA of Orthodoxy, as stated in -- 10 of this chapter, is, that the soul is saved by the sight of truth. The idea of Orthodoxy is true-its principle is false. The sight of truth-that is, of the great spiritual realities-saves us, for only by that sight are we lifted above our feeble and imperfect selves, and enabled to partake of the nature of G.o.d. But while truth is ever one and the same, doctrine varies from age to age, varies from man to man. Each man's statement is limited by his position, his mode of thought, his power of speech. Nor can any council, a.s.sembly, conference, synod escape from similar limitations.

Let the distinction be once clearly recognized between truth as seen and truth as stated,-between knowledge and belief,-and we see the end of dogmatism, bigotry, intolerance, and superst.i.tion. We shall then see that religion is one thing and theology quite another, and that the test and evidence of a sound religious experience are not what a man says, but what he is. The sight of truth remains, as always, the source of our moral and spiritual life, but this sight of truth must pa.s.s into knowledge, by means of life, in order to renew the soul. FAITH, or the act by which the soul, desirous of good, puts itself in the presence of truth, is always the beginning of each spiritual state. KNOWLEDGE, born of this faith, through repeated acts of conscience, love, obedience, prayer, is the next step, and that which fixes the truth in the soul. BELIEF comes afterwards, resulting from the knowledge thus obtained, a.n.a.lyzed, and arranged by the systematizing intellect. And theory, or opinion, goes forward, like the skirmishers before an army, examining the route and opening the way, but incapable of resisting any attack, or holding permanently any position.

CHAPTER III. THE ORTHODOX IDEA OF NATURAL AND REVEALED RELIGION; OR, NATURALISM AND SUPERNATURALISM.

-- 1. Meaning of Natural and Supernatural.

Orthodox Christianity claims that Christianity is a supernatural revelation, consisting of truths revealed by G.o.d, not according to the method of nature, but outside of it. But not merely the orthodox, the heterodox too, Unitarians, Universalists, Quakers, Swedenborgians, all hold to Christianity as a supernatural faith. What do they mean by this, and why do they insist on it so strongly? This is our first question, and the next will be, "What do those who hold to naturalism mean by _it_, and why do they insist on their view?"