cian. Well! they are safe, I suppose: their readers are sufficiently taught to despise or dread my pages. In the same spirit does a very supercilious writer in a religious journal avow his inability to find in the whole of the "Phases" any description of the groaning and travailing of the soul, or any mark of my acquaintance with its deeper wants and distresses. He wilfully

comes to the "Phases" to find topics treated there, concerning which many think there is too much in my book on the Soul; and, not finding the object of his search, magisterially reports that I have never known anything of the inward life of Christianity.

But there is one book, which, both in reviews and in private society, is confidently spoken of as a powerful refutation of my "Phases"; it is called the

66

Eclipse of Faith." For many good reasons, I should now pass it by unnoticed, only that its popularity gives it a weight which it has not in itself; I find also that my friends expect me to answer it. Supposing it to be directed against the "Phases," I delayed perusing it until I should be preparing a new edition; but I now find its principal attack to be against my treatise on the Soul. By far the larger part is unanswerable, either because scoffs offer nothing to reply to, or because it has purposely omitted my arguments. On certain points of detail, however, I have obviated its misrepresentations above; see. pp. 14, 16, 101, and 106

above.

Of this author's tone the reader may in part judge from the following examples:

P. 82. “You shall be permitted to say (what I will not contradict) that, though Mr. Newman may be inspired, for aught I know, . . . . inspired as much (say) as the inventor of Lucifer matches,-yet that his book is not divine, that it is purely human."

Socratic dialogue, when used in talk, may possibly have a legitimate use to a teacher addressing uncultivated minds; though, even then, the moment it is used for controversy, it is the mere screen of infinite sophistries. But in writing, where one person works both the puppets, it is really too puerile. Its diffuseness also makes a full exposure of sophisms impossible without writing a folio.

But if this be in itself unjust, it is made ten times worse by this author's peculiar use of the enormous license which he has assumed. The second title of the book is "A Visit to a Religious Sceptic"; this is a Mr. Harrington, who is his principal talker. Into his mouth the author puts all the free and easy language which, for some reason or other, he is unwilling to say in his own name. I think this exceedingly unjust to genuine and honest men. I am acquainted with several decided sceptics, and two avowed atheists. I know them to have read my book on the Soul, and they do not agree with it; but they behave to me with modesty, respect, and kindness. The very opposite tone pervading this book, I feel to come, not from any actual Mr. Harrington, but from the Christian (?) controversialist behind him. I am willing to meet a sincere sceptic, and teach him or learn from him. All sincere and conscientious men can teach us something: God forbid that I should feel towards such either pride or unkindness; indeed, I find that true sceptics do not scoff at the sincere, but only at the hypocritical. And as this dialogue is fundamentally fictitious, I do not see what else but the author's own heart can have suggested the profane insults which abound in it, and against which I protest, as a slanderous representation of honest sceptics. After all, why must this author step in to reinforce their argument? are they

not generally acute enough to conduct it without a Christian's aid? and why must I fight against a sham adversary? It suffices for me to combat honest and real hearts, from whom I do not shrink: but I confess I do shrink with a most painful repugnance from one, who, by discarding his personality, thinks to get free from moral responsibility.

But here is another marvel, that in this Christian's opinion the great test of spiritual truth lies in its preacher being able to recommend it to the profane intellect of a lively scoffer! According to him, the state of the soul is nothing to the purpose. Unless I can convince a hard reasoning and unspiritual man that certain Scriptural doctrines (doctrines which he elsewhere reproaches me with having "stolen" from Christian Apostles) are true, I am absurd, contemptible, and deserving of having my language on sacred topics mutilated and mocked! My language! No! but the language of those whom the author desires me to revere. In the following, for instance, Mr. Fellowes is intended to personate me; and he says, p. 41:

"I have rejected all creeds; and I have found what the Scripture calls that peace which passeth all understanding.'

"I am sure it passes mine,' says Harrington, ‘if you have really found it; and I should be much obliged to you if you would let me participate in the discovery.'

"Yes,' said Fellowes; .... I have escaped from the bondage of the letter, and have been introduced into the liberty of the spirit..... We separate the dross of Christianity from its fine gold. The letter killeth, but the spirit giveth life. The fruit of the Spirit is joy, peace, not

"Upon my word,' said Harrington, laughing, I shall presently begin to fancy that Douce Davie Deans has turned infidel,'" &c.

I request the reader to consider, whether, if we blot out the names Fellowes and Christianity, and put instead Paul and Judaism, Mr. Harrington's scoffs would not have equal weight. For myself I feel simple amazement, that a writer can think he is serving the cause of Christianity by appealing to such weapons.

Observe also his gracious application to me of the word "infidel," a contumely very common from Mr. Harrington, but impossible from a genuine sceptic, a word which is the peculiar weapon of the proud and self-sufficient dogmatizer, who holds all to be unfaithful who do not adopt his opinions. I say, such a word is unmeaning from one who is not sure even that there is a good God; and this epithet itself proves, that under the mask of the sceptic, the Christian (?) is venting his own pride and bitterness, which he unjustly attributes to another.

But as to this Mr. Fellowes: who is he? His character (p. 33) is apparently intended to be a portrait of mine, as the author conceives of me. Thus he insinuates a mean, degrading, and laughable opinion of me, if the reader will accept it; but if the reader cannot go quite so far, and says it is unfair, then the au-thor can back out, and protest that Fellowes is not myself, but only my admirer. The reader will see, that, in the last passages quoted, Fellowes is represented as blurting out all sorts of sacred truths in a heap, upon a man who thinks he has a right to laugh at them. This is an old trick for ridiculing all inward religion. Write a farce in which a Dr. Cantwell shall profess holy maxims in the most unsuitable moments, and you get the laugh of the thoughtless on your side.

It is reserved for this author to imagine that by such profanity he can succeed in frightening men from what he calls "infidelity" into any holy or pure religion.

In depicting Mr. Fellowes, the author is resolved to outdo Plato in graphic pungency. He is most exact in describing his sanctimonious solemnity, his silly dogmatism, his eager confidence, his grave puzzleheadedness, his hesitation, his drawl, his long pauses, his blank look, and his eminent candor in confessing my follies. In far more than I can possibly quote, or allude to, the animus of the author is seen. In the last quotation, it is visible at a glance that the author is working the puppet Fellowes expressly to ridicule me and my argument, and not as one who tries to say his best for me, as he thinks I would have said it. Let the reader mark the following, pp. 45, 46. Harrington says:

"I cannot suspect you of hypocrisy, but I confess I regard your language as cant. As I listen to you, I seem to see a hybrid between Prynne and Voltaire. So far from its being true that you have renounced the letter of the Bible and retained its spirit, I think it would be much more correct to say, comparing your infidel hypothesis with your most spiritual dialect, that you have renounced the spirit of the Bible and retained its letter.'

"But are you in a condition to give an opinion?' said Fellowes, with a serious air. Mr. Newman says in a like case, "The natural man discerneth not the things of the Spirit of God, because they are foolishness unto him": it is "the spiritual man only who searches the deep things of God." At the same time 1 freely acknowledge that I never could see my way clear to employ an argument which looks so arrogant;