Now, the Ritualists, looking upon this wide gulf between the churches, and seeing that it is ever growing wider, propose to bridge it over. This desire for the unity of the Christian Brotherhood upon earth is noble and holy. "It is," says the Bishop of Gloucester, "the desire of loving hearts to bring about, even in this age of divisions, that for which our own dear Lord so solemnly prayed on the last night that He spent with His apostles, 'That they all might be one even as we are one.'" Indeed, there are two movements within the English Church for bringing about this end, but looking in exactly opposite directions: as the Ritualists incline toward Rome, so there is another party which invites the union of the several Evangelical Protestant sects. This latter movement does not come within the province of the present paper. the Son of God were found unavailing, velopment-one to be determined, as but yet whose release might be procured to its religious tendencies and its influby the intercession of the living; Mari- ences upon civilization, by the traditionolatry, with its subtle and impassioned al system of faith which had grown up sentiment, which made the mother of since the beginning of the fourth cenJesus the Queen of Heaven, and found tury, while the other would rest upon in her qualities efficacious for interces- the more primitive system revived by sion which it refused to find in her Protestantism. These two planes could divine Son, and sometimes even pic- never meet or become identical. The tured her as mediating between sinners chasm which had been opened could and an angry Christ; priestly celibacy, only be closed by the absolute surrender resulting in gross immoralities among of one system or of the other. the clergy, and, therefore, of necessity, in universal laxity of morals; monasticism, which, reviving the asceticism of the heathen, developed a morbid and unwholesome habit of life; the immunities granted to religious orders; the intervention in worldly strifes of Popes, claiming to be vicegerents of the Prince of Peace, whose kingdom was "not of this world;" auricular confession, invading the privacy of homes and the sanctity of the individual conscience, attended by the impious custom of bartering indulgences, and almost obliterating the scriptural basis of forgiveness through penitence; the substitution of an oblative sacrifice for the memorial Supper instituted by our Lord-all these rested solely upon the authority of tradition. To protest against them was possible only by the denial of that authority. But it was not simply a protest or a denial that was called for; these were negative only; they pulled down, but they involved no reconstruction. The work of the Reformers was positive; it was a revival of the primitive, apostolic faith. Doubtless they preferred to carry on the movement of reform within the church, before whose altars, if it had been possible, they would have slain the monstrous impositions of tradition. But this was not allowed; they were driven without the pale of the church by the very impositions against which they protested, and were compelled to erect a new structure. The schism was complete, leaving no room for compromise. From the moment of separation it became evident that thenceforth Christianity would move upon two different planes of de But the union proposed by the Ritualists, and notably by Dr. Pusey, in his Eirenicon, is condemned at the outset (as the Bishop of Oxford has shown, with characteristic eloquence) by two considerations: first, that the differences between the churches of England and of Rome, instead of being (as the Ritualists assume) mere misunderstandings, are clear and intelligent contradictions; second, that no terms are possible between the parties, but the absolute surrender of the former to the latter, as of a fallible to an infallible. In the face of this Ritualistic proposition to surrender to Romanism-in the face of this protest against Protestantism, the Christian world is challenged to a reconsideration of the original point of departure between the two great systems of faith which for three centuries have divided Christendom. It is even challenged to answer the question, "Has Protestantism proved a failure?" The Reformation, as we have said, introduced a new basis-a new planeof Christian development. New it was as related to the Papal development; but it was in fact as old as Christianity itself. It overleaped mediæval traditions and superstitions; it took the Christian faith out of the eccentric grooves in which it had been wandering for a thousand years, and readjusted it upon the old plane, restoring its harmonious revolution about its original centre. The ecclesiastical historian finds in the reign of Constantine the first point of departure from the primitive faith. Then Christianity was made the prevailing religion in the Roman Empire. The communion of the church was sought by thousands to satisfy motives which were merely worldly. Then there began to be adopted a more splendid ritual; magnificent basilicas were reared for divine worship; the priests began to adopt a costly and elaborately symbolic vesture; feast-days were multiplied; invocations were made to departed saints; the germs of Mariolatry and saint-worship began to be developed; and we find also the beginnings of the Papal establishment in the growing eminence of the Bishop of Rome. The ante-Constantine church had closely followed the evangelical and apostolic teachings, both as to its doctrines and its cultus, or form of worship. Our Saviour was not a teacher of technical theology. We find in the Gospels only the germs of what is now accepted by all evangelical Christians as a body of doctrine; we find there no speculative theses, no formal theological statements, but only vitalizing truth exemplified in Christ's life and sealed by his death-sealed, indeed, and made applicable to human salvation by that death in a mysterious sense, as involving the solution of the problem (insoluble by the human intellect) of a sacrificial propitiation for sin. All these doctrines-not advanced as never analytical statements, but as constituting in one body the great practical ar gument of Christianity, and its motivepower upon human life-distinguished the religion of Christ from all the ancient systems of faith, which had no body of doctrine, but were simply a cultus, or religious ritual. If there was wrapped up in this ritual a vague, instructive reference to the idea of an atonement, it was not only vague and imperfect in essence, but was evolved from the folds which enwrapped it like an Egyptian mummy-was never developed into form. Doubtless it slumbered in the human heart, but it was never awakened out of that sleep, and its operations upon the pagan life -operations of which we have, some evidence-were like the motions of a dream, not consciously noted or referred to their origin. And so as to any other instinctive anticipation which there may have been of the sublime doctrines of Christianity-it was completely disguised by the pagan ritual, was never extricated from that ritual into a distinct argument, and whatever influence it exercised upon the pagan life must have been through the impressiveness of the dramatic ceremonial which invested it, and which was the beginning, middle, and end of every ancient religious system. Thus the early church had a complete body of spiritual doctrine. Development there might be, must be, indeed, just in proportion to the intensity of Christian life; but it would be a genuine development only in so far as it proceeded by evolution and not by addition. The system was complete and immutable. Men might change in relation to it, as the earth changes in its relations to the sun, effecting by its daily and yearly revolutions an alternation of day and night, of aphelion and perihelion, but the system-the mighty orb of spiritual illumination-could not change. Obscurity and eclipse there might be, but these could not be in it, but only in the mind and heart of man. Protestantism undertook to restore this system in its original purity, casting aside the medieval superstructure as a false development. The Protestant church, during its period of conflict, was to be the antitype of the Primitive church. Its Christ was the Christ of that church, all-sufficient for his great work, without external aid; its Bible was the Bible of that church, and was also self-sufficing, as the guide to salvation and the rule of life. Its worship was the worship of that church in its characteristic simplicity and spiritual fervor. This Christ, standing as sole mediator between God and man; this Bible, separated from the rubbish of traditional interpretation; this worship, divested of its material adjuncts, were held up anew before the world. The right of private judgment was restored to man. But the Protestant church resembled the Primitive not solely as to its inherent characteristics, but also as to what it opposed. It stood face to face, by an antagonism forced upon it, with a system which, for its operation upon men, employed agencies similar to those of that paganism with which the apostolic church was brought into conflict. When we assert that at the time of the Reformation the Christian faith had descended in its outward expression to the old level of paganism-that it had become submerged under a dramatic ritual, appealing through its symbolism to the senses rather than to the mind and heart, we remember, also, that this was due mainly to two facts: first, to the supereminence given by the church to temporal interests over spiritual; and, secondly, to the inclusion by the lump (if we may so express it) of semibarbarous nations within the arms of the church, these new-comers demanding a more material cultus. Whatever apology may be rendered, the fact still remains that the church wielded material rather than spiritual weapons, and that the sublime argument of evangelical Christianity had been displaced by an elaborate and impressive ceremonial. The argument slumbered; but it was reawakened by Protestantism. Thus the Reformed church entered into an antag onism with the Papal, which had al ready been prefigured in the struggle between the apostolic church and paganism. Papal Rome stood in the place and performed the functions of imperial Rome; the Popes were the successors of the Cæsars. The persecutions directed by the latter against the primitive Christians found their counterpart in those directed by the Papal power against the early Protestants. Paganism withstood the aggression of Christianity for centuries; but it only succeeded in doing this through a partial purification of itself, while it still maintained its radical errors-and even its imperfect reformation was owing to the reflex action upon it of its more spiritual antagonist. So, too, Roman Catholicism still holds out; and, in order to prolong the conflict, it has also been compelled to lay aside many of its prejudices, to weed out many of its superstitions, to abate some of its pretensions, and even to borrow from its antagonist such weapons and ammunition as it could safely handle. But does the analogy between the former and this more recent conflict go no farther? Paganism fell at length and crumbled to dust under the blows of its adversary. As to the end of this modern contest, must we reverse the analogy, and declare, with the Ritualists, that Protestantism has proved a failure-that with its Christ, its Bible, and a cultus which contents itself with being a worship in spirit and in truth, its armor is insufficient and its weapons too puny? Must we look upon it as the dove which went forth from Noah's ark, and returned, because it could find no resting-place in the world of waters ? Must we so return to the gates of the Holy City, and proclaim a surrender, because, outside of the traditional authority of the church, we can find no rock for rest and refuge amid a world of perturbations? And whence has grown this doubt as to the efficiency of Protestantism? It is of very recent origin, and is to be attributed chiefly to the rapid progress of modern rationalism. Protestantism led of necessity to a reawakening of the human intellect; its growth has been coeval with the progress of modern science-with the progress, also, of all that is most distinctive in modern civilization. In asserting the right of private judgment in spiritual matters, it furnished a basis for the intellectual development of modern times and for our modern theories of liberty. The human reason was invested with its God-given privileges, the sanctity of which had been so long violated; and with this investiture came also an awful and majestic consciousness of individual responsibility. Contemplate for an instant the sublime height to which reason was thus raised! It was as if a slave had been crowned and enthroned, "Servumque posuere in æterna basi; " not because he had been a slave,-ah, no!--but because he had been unjustly fettered, and because his elevation, in æterna basi, was the apotheosis at once of justice and humanity. Privileges thus sacred conferred upon human reason, responsibilities thus awful incurred --these have been the basis of modern progress. An And what has been the result? universal protest, say the Ritualists, against all authority, human and divine. The divine right of kings has been denied. Peoples have invaded thrones; step by step they have advanced toward the theory of self-government. The temporal authority of the church has been driven back by compulsion to its last strongholds; every year witnesses some fresh abdication of this traditional supremacy. And these political tendencies promise to go on to their consummation. The Protestant powers are triumphant in every new conflict. Even within two years we have seen a great nation born in a day; and now what do we see in Austria, the Roman Catholic rival of this new Protestant power? Popular education in that empire has been released from priestcraft; marriage-hitherto a sacrament of the church has become a civil ordinance; all religious sects have been placed upon the same political level, and the minis ter of public instruction replies to the remonstrances of the clerical party, that "society may be Catholic, but the State cannot be Catholic, if it wishes to be just to all its citizens." And how long can Rome maintain herself against the distinctly-pronounced will of the Italian people? Unquestionably there has been going on during the entire Protestant cra a tremendous political revolution. But it is not so certain that it tends toward anarchy-that the liberty of the people is the destruction of order. And how is it as to the other count in the charge against Protestantism, namely, the opposition which it has evoked against all divine authority? Here it is that the Ritualists, in common with Roman Catholics, find the fulcrum for their mightiest lever. This unfettered and enthroned reason, say they, is on a mad chase devil-ward, and is carrying along with it the system which nourished and protected it. The original schism has been the parent of a succession of schisms, until the Protestant Church has a dozen ramifications, and has thus lost its efficiency as an organization for its dissensions are not only a scandal to Christianity, but lead to an exhaustion, in rivalry and strife, of powers which ought to be directed against the common enemy; they lead, also, to a waste of material resources, since, as may be seen in almost every Protestant community, half-a-dozen separate organizations have to be sustained. where one would suffice. But Protestantism, it is added, does not expose its principal error in these dissensions within the church, but rather in the opposition which it has provoked against the church in any form and against the Bible. Now, nothing can be gained by evasion or misrepresentation. Let us stand up and accept the full volley of this attack, and then count our dead, wounded, and missing. Let us put in plain words the charge of our assailants. "You Protestants," say they," are responsible for modern rationalism and infidelity. You opened the gates to these deadly enemies of the faith; they did not creep in while you slept,-but you deliberately let them in. And what is worse-you could not help yourselves, for they had your proper countersign. You made the human reason king; how, then, could you deny the royalty of these his children? You rejected the material superstructure of the Roman Catholic Church, which, with its symbolism and impressive appeal to the sense, was an expression of a spiritual faith; you professed to retain the original faith while divesting it of its material alliance. But you accepted in place of this old ally, a new one; you made the human intellect the grand interpreter of the mysteries of faith, the sole imperator over the individual conscience and judgment. You said the old alliance was a mistake, because the material, instead of revealing, veiled the spiritual. But we claim, in turn, that the new alliance is fatal, since the human understanding neither veils nor reveals, but only destroys faith. You rejected a sleepy narcotic, for a poisonous acid. You fled from the inert but solid earth, into the variable and fickle sky. You transformed the cloud of darkness, which only covered our faith, into fire, which consumes it. In all ages thought has been the antagonist of belief. In all ages, also, it is equally true that the soul of man has found its genuine counterpart in the body—that which is most spiritual in that which is most sensu ous. The marriage of faith with sense -not that of faith with reason-is divinely ordained in the very constitution of humanity. You Protestants, moreover, have chosen a sad king in intellect, which is really and by nature a slave both to sense and to faith; and the moment you lift it above the office of simple ministration to these, you introduce an abnormal sovereignty. Not a modest sovereign, either, does the intellect, thus clevated, become; it defiantly denies the existence of all that it cannot see. Its weakness and pride are mutually correlative. Its activity is not lost, because the province into which it has been thrust is to its vision an empty desert; thus, although it cannot whis per Yes in answer to one of the anxious questionings of the human heart, it confidently thunders No. You cannot tease your oracle into an affirmative, but his monstrous and shuddering negations reverberate with endless iteration over the dreary waste. You began by divorcing faith from its material images and symbols, and your movement naturally ends in universal negation, in infidelity." But hold one moment, Mr. Ritualist! We are getting impatient. You have been filching the arguments of rationalism by the wholesale; but you make an incomplete, and, therefore, an unfair statement. You have been reading Kant, we perceive. We also have read Kant, and find in him something which you have inexcusably ignored. Kant was the first man who proved the impossibility of attaining to the idea of God or of immortality by the speculative reason. That is the conclusion of his Analytic of Pure Reason. But he did not stop there. He announced also the doctrine-the most sublime among all the doctrines of modern metaphysicsof a Practical Reason, whose very function it is imperatively to impose laws for action, just as pure reason does laws for thought; and these laws, or postulates, by necessary implication, presuppose the existence of God and immortality, to which the Pure Reason cannot reach by analysis. And to this Practical Reason Kant gives the primacy over all the powers of the human soul. Thus, by the sage of Königsberg was inaugurated a revolution in the province of rationalism itself, by which the destructive tendencies of human thought were arrested, its negations met by a categorical affirmative, its poisonous acids neutralized; and by which a philosophical basis was furnished for the moral development of humanity. If, then, we admit the destructive tendencies of modern philosophy, we also as confidently assert that within the very confines of this philosophy we find a remedy interposed against their iconoclasm. And if we pass from natural to revealed religion, we find that |