DIALOGUE III.

BASIL

The turn which Max gave to our discussion of yesterday took us all by surprise- me, perhaps, more than any of you; but my anxiety to continue the debate did not, as you suspected, originate in my combative propensities, but in a feeling of intense curiosity. Before I can venture to condemn, or even to attack Max, I must understand far better than I do now what he means. Max began his argument yesterday with a definition of dogma, which I readily accept, because he is clearly entitled to define the terms which he intends to use in any way he may think fit. But the conclusions to which he would lead us with regard to the relation subsisting between what he calls dogmas and true religion are so startling at first sight, that we must, as a matter of common prudence, examine our ground carefully before going forwards. According to his definition of dogma, the doctrines of the Church with regard to the divinity of Our Lord, the Incarnation, the Atonement, the Resurrection of Our Lord, are all dogmas; and if dogmas, however true, form no essential part of true religion, we may as safely expunge these doctrines from our creed as the doc

trine of the divine commission of Mohammed. Indeed, the more I reflect upon the matter, the more clearly do I perceive how impossible it is to separate dogma from religion without separating religion from faith.

MAX

I am glad that at the very commencement of our discussion you should have brought into such close contact 'dogma' and 'faith'. In so doing you have touched the key-note of all that I have to say, and have also uncovered the source of the radical differences which must, I fear, for a time at all events, continue to divide us. But as our best chance of coming to an agreement is to be perfectly intelligible to each other, we ought, I think, to launch one more definition—a definition of faith.' We both of us, I am persuaded, feel our hearts stirred within us by the associations which we severally connect with the word 'faith.' We both think of it as 'the gift of God.' We look We look upon it as the leaven which, however much it may be hidden in the barrel of meal, has virtue enough to leaven the whole mass. We recognize in it, especially when united with the principle of love, the fountain of all spiritual graces, of all that made the life and death of Christ Himself the glory of men and angels; and yet 1 never hear you speak of faith without wondering what can, in your judgment, be the distinguishing characteristic of this mighty power. To me it seems that a very large part of the bitterness, the misconception, the passionate and intolerant sectarianism which tend to disgust all devout minds with theological con

troversy, may be traced to the strangely incongruous senses in which theologians are in the habit of using this term 'faith." At one moment it is used to denote the tenure by which we hold doctrines resting entirely upon external authority or objective evidence, and the next moment it is used to indicate the tenure by which we hold doctrines that are altogether beyond the domain of reason or authority, and rest upon the intuitions of conscience alone. Thus theologians talk of the 'faith once delivered to the Saints,' meaning thereby the whole religious system contained in the teaching of the Bible and the Church. We read in our formularies of all the articles of the Christian faith,' and our sixth article affirms that nothing ought to be regarded as a necessary article of faith but what can be read in Holy Scripture or proved thereby,' which is tantamount to saying that the tenure by faith is identical with the tenure by intellectual demonstration. This mode of representing all orthodox doctrines as being held by faith, would seem to import that all such doctrines are, or can be held, by the same tenure; just as if the tenure by which men hold their belief in the influence of the Holy Spirit on their hearts, is, or can be, the same as that by which they hold their belief in the truth of the Noachian deluge. Surely nothing but a confusion of ideas can result from thus blending under one name tenures so widely different in kind; and accordingly we may observe that in the minds of superficial thinkers, a portion of the reverence with which the soul instinctively regards the convictions of conscience, becomes gradually associated with those

dogmas which cannot, confessedly, have any foundation but either authority or the convictions of the intellect. In what I may have to say, I shall endeavour to avoid this looseness of language. When I use the term 'faith,' I intend to designate the tenure by which we hold those religious doctrines which, consciously, cannot have any but a subjective basis—and the doctrines so held I shall call faiths.' Inasmuch,

moreover, as all other religious doctrines will be found on examination to fall under our accepted definition of dogmas, I shall call the tenure by which such doctrines are held, whether traceable to authority, or logic, or evidence, 'the dogmatic tenure.' You will, therefore, now have no difficulty in understanding what I mean, when, in dealing with different kinds of religious doctrine, I speak of faiths' and 'dogmas,' or when I designate the tenures by which such doctrines are respectively held by the terms 'faith,' and 'the dogmatic tenure.' Bearing these definitions in mind, the proposition which I have undertaken to maintain may, if thought desirable, be put in a positive rather than in a negative form; and instead of denying the right of dogmas to be regarded as an essential part of true religion, I may affirm that the only doctrines which form an essential part of true religion are faiths,' or such tenets as are held by the tenure of 'faith.'

6

LEONARD

Inasmuch as objective reasoning in some shape or other underlies all dogmatic beliefs, your definition, Max, does in fact raise up before us the old question

(the bête noire of theology) as to the limits of the respective domains of faith and reason. Putting aside your manifest right to define as you please the terms which you propose to use, your definition has, I am bound to allow, one great exceptional merit-it recognizes and marks a distinction of great importance which actually exists. In ordinary theological writings the tenure by faith and the tenure by reason are jumbled up together in a hopeless muddle. No one who reflects for a moment can maintain that a term which denotes the tenure by which we hold our belief in a historical fact like the crucifixion, can adequately denote the tenure by which we believe in God's goodness. Nor is the prevalent confusion of ideas on this subject to be found only in hasty theological compositions like sermons and popular religious treatises, but it may be traced in the most carefully considered writings. I have in my mind at this moment an elaborate article of great ability which appeared more than twenty years ago (1849) in the 'Edinburgh Review,' specifically upon 'faith and reason.' Passing over the metaphysics of the article, it may be worth while to notice hurriedly some of the practical conclusions of the writer. He maintains that, whilst we should trust to reason for the proof of the divine authority of Scripture, we should, after being satisfied on that point, accept without question, under the guidance of faith, the most minute particulars in the historical, practical, and doctrinal teaching of the Bible. To me, however, it seems that when a man has once satisfied himself by reason of the divinity of