delicate discernment of the relations of the soul to God, or of the souls of men to one another. But this is not all. If indeed our knowledge of Divine and human attributes were perfect, we might have a complete perception of religious relations. But as this is not the case, we are bound to apply any test which may help us to verify our conclusions. Such a test is to be found in spiritual experience; and indeed I believe that without such experience our conviction of some of the most important relations would be little better than a distant echo of what more saintly souls have felt and known. Perhaps this statement will be best unfolded by taking a few examples. In Psalm xxxii. 3-5 we have these words: When I kept silence, my bones waxed old through my roaring all the day long. For day and night thy hand was heavy upon me: my moisture was changed as with the drought of summer. I acknowledged my sin unto thee, and mine iniquity have I not hid. I said, I will confess my transgressions unto the Lord; and thou forgavest the iniquity of my sin.' Here is implied the doctrine that impenitence causes disquietude of heart, and brings upon us the heavy hand of the Divine displeasure, and that humble confession induces the peace of forgiveness. Was this only the feeling of the Psalmist, or is it a universal truth? Experience must decide, and only in our own consciousness can we find an indubitable answer for ourselves. Somewhat similar are the words, The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit: a broken and a contrite heart, O God, thou wilt not despise." Is the contrite man free from that contempt of the higher Spirit which we often speak of as self-contempt, and is that awarded only to the mortification of a still unsubdued pride? And does sorrow of heart bestow a deeper peace than any rite formally offered as a propitiation? Here those are the truest judges who have mourned in unselfish sorrow for their sin. Again, take the words, My heart trusted in him, and I am helped '; 'O 2 Ps. xxviii. 7.

1 Ps. li. 17.

Lord of hosts, blessed is the man that trusteth in thee.'1 Does trust in God bring with it help and blessedness, and may we lay that down as a universal doctrine? Clearly those who have never trusted cannot tell. Those only who have tasted the fruits of patient waiting upon God know with certainty whether their salvation is from him.2 And once more, when Christ speaks of the things hidden from the wise and prudent as being revealed to babes, does he not utter a deep experience of his own? Does he not in effect tell us that seeking for Divine knowledge rather in a childlike intercourse with God than in the learning of the schools, he had seen gleams of light which philosophers had desired in vain? Paul expresses the same experience when he says, 'That your faith should not stand in the wisdom of men, but in the power of God.' Is this a true doctrine ? Is the devout, lowly, simple heart fuller of Divine light than the richly stored and subtle intellect? Let those who have both large intellects and lowly hearts answer the question.

We have now seen that the religious element is variable in human nature, existing in different degrees of intensity and fulness in different persons, not constant in the same person, and requiring to be enriched by the lessons of experience; and that the perfect theologian ought to possess this element in all its power and completeness, and stored with the most precious fruits of long communion both with God and man. This result may convince us of two important facts. First, religious truths are not latent in every man, requiring only a formal statement to bring them into the clear light of consciousness; but the element to which they appeal, and which furnishes a criterion of their truth, being susceptible of cultivation and growth, may apprehend these truths with every variety of distinctness, and only the rarely gifted few, if even a few, can see them in all their beauty, built up into a perfect and eternal temple. Secondly,

we need not exact the test of universality before we accept the evidence of the religious element. Our examination has shown that many of its phenomena may be more or less restricted, and that probably its highest manifestations will appear only here and there. It is as though the eye were susceptible of a constantly increasing power, and brought back to a few observers reports of other worlds, and visions of glory which were hidden from the less advanced. Then we should not deny the testimony of those whose sight, strengthened by long gazing at the Divine, penetrated into holier depths than our own; but we should cry in humility and hope, Lord, give sight to us also, that we may see thee and adore.

(g) Confirmatory Facts

It may throw further light upon our survey of the religious element, and at the same time confirm our general position, if we notice a few prominent facts in religious history which are such as our previous examination might lead us to anticipate.

I. The first broad fact that arrests our attention is the great diversity of theological belief. This may be observed, not only in different countries and periods, but in the same place and at the same time, when precisely the same external evidence is before every inquirer. On looking closer, we may perceive that the various religious systems bear a certain relation to national or individual character. Jewish theology is not the same as Grecian, nor Phrygian as Roman, nor Irish as English; and if you imagine any of these transposed, you will at once recognize an inconsistency between the national character and the religious faith and practice superinduced upon it. And so with individuals, their views are not entirely the result of investigation, apart from all personal bias, but are in harmony with the mental characteristics of their authors, so that the transference of their views from one to another would at once excite a sense of

incongruity.1 These phenomena are readily explained by our theory. We have seen that the religious element is not invariable, but exists in different persons in different proportions, and in developments more or less one-sided. And in this element the beliefs implicitly contained in it are not given ready formed, but are sought after by wants and tendencies which these beliefs are adapted to satisfy. Those whose religious nature is less matured will rest in different conclusions from those who have the Spirit in larger measure, and those whose bias is in opposite directions will adopt conflicting systems of theology. And lastly, a rich spiritual experience, which admits an infinite variety of degrees, is indispensable to the solution of many important questions. Here, then, we have elements of uncertainty whose combined action is amply sufficient to account for the otherwise amazing diversity of theological belief.

2. Most men have a power of acknowledging and believing a doctrine which they could not unaided have discovered. The heart responds to the appeal of a powerful religious teacher, and we joyfully accept new truth, or feel a fresh confidence in the old, though we care not to assign a distinct reason for our belief, and our own more languid natures, away from such an influence, could not have generated it. Accordingly multitudes have some strong religious faith, and spend simple and godly lives, who have never reasoned upon their faith, and whose belief, while deriving its form from the Church to which they belong, is evidently a thing of the heart, and is not held merely in deference to superior

1 Compare Professor James's remark in his Gifford Lectures on Varieties of Religious Belief (p. 487): If an Emerson were forced to be a Wesley, or a Moody forced to be a Whitman, the total human consciousness of the divine would suffer. The divine can mean no single quality, it must mean a group of qualities, by being champions of which in alternation, different men may all find worthy missions. Each attitude being a syllable in human nature's total message, it takes the whole of us to spell the meaning out completely.'

authority. They have within them a yearning which finds its rest in the doctrines presented to them.

3. Connected with the preceding is the fact that in their theology men generally feel a certain dependence on authority. In our theory there is abundant room for this dependence. Theology must be slowly elaborated from the resources of human nature; and while men have a rich, but varying capacity for recognizing the truths which their nature demands, they are impelled to look for some authority to interpret their inarticulate wants, and present in an established form the beliefs which their condition at the time being requires. If there were no such authority, multitudes would be left without any satisfying form of belief; and while they were conscious of vague spiritual wants, they would endeavour to appease these by conceptions and practices lower than they were capable of appreciating, instead of being ennobled and elevated by having the highest form of doctrine which the advancement of the age would permit it to receive pressed upon their attention. Accordingly, while having the sources of belief within themselves, they nevertheless gladly range themselves under some generally accepted and enduring authority.

4. This leads us to another fact connected with the revolts which from time to time occur against established authority. Men outgrow theologies. The formula which can enlist all the sympathy and zeal of one generation seem foreign to the religious wants of another. Great revolutions in theology do not commonly arise from the calm investigations of the reason, but from a feeling that the old forms are beneath, and therefore unsuited to, the altered condition of the soul. We do not reason about dead forms of belief; for they no longer appeal to our higher instincts. The child, when he becomes a man, puts away childish things; and the human race, long trained by the Divine Spirit, is content that its old knowledge and prophesyings should pass away, and, as it draws nearer to the time when it shall know as it is known,