to cach other, but belong to wholly separate spheres. The idea of unity and mutual relationship in all the realms of truth has grown beyond anything like that. Nor does the reconciliation which Herbert Spencer gives, in his "First Principles," deserve other than the name of charlatanism. Claiming to distil the "soul of good" out of the thing evili.e. religion he makes it to have no soul, but to be only a striving after the solution of the inscrutable mystery of things. And science, too, he makes to be working at the same problem; thus reconciling science and religion by nescience the denial of all science. Being elaborately introduced to this reconciliation, how can one restrain laughter! But when we see that the author is serious with us, our smile turns to the look of pity for such word-jugglery. The charitable term "soul of truth in things evil" conciliates us, and leads us to expect something positive; but he shows us only the abyss of the unknowable, the "mystery of the universe," of which science takes the near and visible sides, and religion the deep, invisible, and unknowable depths. Such metaphysical whiffling may daze, but it cannot make clear to any mind a real reconciliation of science and religion. For we all believe in a real reconciliation, but all that such attempts can do is to bring out into distinct vision the scope and the points of antithesis of the two. There remains still the broader and deeper and final reconciliation to be brought about, which will show how all the truths of science may be viewed religiously, and all the truths of religion scientifically.

Something may be done towards this by showing the common basis from which they both start, and the instruments with which they both work, and that they are, in fact, different sides of the grand whole of the universe. Especially, we believe, do those who are devoted exclusively to scientific pursuits, and make only occasional raids upon religion, need to realize that the basis on which they stand, the instruments with which they work, and the subject-matter of their work, are identical with those on the side of religion. The thousand petty discords between them are to be done away by this

sense of community, harmony, and mutual relationship. Nor is it necessary to do away with dogmatism in order to this. Dogmatism is proper in both departments; for it is the true antithesis of scepticism. True dogmatism is not, as Jerrold wittily said, "puppyism come to maturity"; but it is knowledge come to positive perfection, and as such is not only possible, but necessary, alike in science and religion.

Passing by the many points of apparent disagreement between the two, let us only note the points of vital agreement, the things they have in common-basis and in

struments.

A. The one power which makes science, as well as religion, possible by giving them both their subject-matter and their methods, is faith. We use faith here in its most generic sense, as distinguished from the specific faiths or dogmas of either department. It is a faith broad enough to include reliance upon all the faculties of our mind, upon the reality of the external world, and upon all the revelations that God makes to the soul. It is the general instinct of trust in inner and outer realities, which makes us natural realists from childhood up till we become infidel to some part of this trust. It is confidence in, reliance upon, the truthfulness of ourselves and of things about us. It is the belief in the laws of belief which God has implanted in us. It embraces confidence in our senses as corrected by our understanding, and in our understanding as corrected by the fundamental intuitions of reason. It is trust in the reality of all objects of knowledge, and in the instruments or faculties by which we apprehend and know them. We rely upon the truthfulness of both objects and instruments. If we mistrust that our faculties are incapable or deceptive, we at once do away with the possibility of any knowledge, and can only doubt everything, and then doubt our very doubt. We can have not only no basis for either science or religion, but also no basis for either belief or scepticism. We fall at once into the abyss of know-nothingism in which Pyrrho and the other sceptics found themselves. They held that a person could know

nothing, not even that he knew nothing. The great world, themselves, and God became only a "perhaps." There are signs of a like absolute Pyrrhonism to-day; and many scientists, like Herbert Spencer, who are loudest in their boast of the positive philosophy, make this very scepticism the basis on which to rest their science. But when this is put as the basis of anything-of revelation, with Mr. Mansel, as well as of Science - one thing is as good and true and beautiful as another, and all true dogmatism is at an end. Unless we trust our senses, we have no outward world to begin with. Unless we trust the understanding, we have no method of systematizing and interpreting the outer world. Unless we trust the reason and conscience, the pure and practical reason of Kant, we have no possibility of religion. or revelation. Faith, therefore, in our God-given faculties, lies at the very basis of all knowledge, human and divine, and whoever tries to shake their authority, or our faith in them, is, in fact, an infidel, in the philosophical sense of the word, be he the champion of science or of revelation. When the idealist Berkeley says "there is no matter," we say, "It is no matter what he says." When the materialist Büchner says "there is no mind," we say, "Never mind what he says." We call them both infidel to correlated realities. which every natural realist and every child, who is naturally a natural realist, believes. And when Lord Macaulay jeeringly asks, "Who are the wisest and the best, and whose opinion is to decide that?" we say that he is infidel to the universal, impersonal reason, which is in every man, and which declares that there are such realities as the wisest and best. We repeat ourselves when we say that all such mistrust is infidel,-disbelieving in the truth of ourselves, and does away with the only possible basis of any kind of knowledge. We begin our knowledge with propositions of

1 "In order to avoid everything like positive assertion those old sceptics had recourse to a variety of artifices, and availed themselves of doubtful modes of expression, such as, 'it is possible;' 'it may be so;' 'perhaps;' 'I assert nothing;' cautiously subjoining to this last, 'not even that I assert nothing.' Schwegler's Hist. of Phil., p. 149.

perception. We correct and connect these propositions by the propositions of the understanding. But we do not stop with the manifold finite relations which the understanding gives us; we carry these up into the absolute being, through the reason which discerns the inner unity and the fundamental and absolute relations of them all. The senses need the correction of the understanding, and that the correction. of the reason. Then we have the criterion for judging who and what are the wisest and best; that is, providing we trust in these faculties which bridge which carry us over from the finite and contingent to the infinite and the absolute. It is this trust which starts us, and carries us up through all the stages of our knowledge, and which bears us up when we have reached the summit. In its beginning, this trust or faith is what one of our most beautiful thinkers1 has called good faith.

The child comes into the world without the slightest scepticism as to the reality of things about him, and their relations to him, and the instincts of activity which are already awakened in him. Life is earnest and life is real to him. To use the illustration of Professor Everett, the infant has an instinct to suck, and without knowing the provision nature has made for its nourishment, it simply sucks, in good faith, anything that is put in its mouth, trying to suck the nourishment it feels the need of, until at last it finds its instinct satisfied with its mother's breast. It lives by faith in this instinct, which is a crude, but a true, type of the

1 Prof. Charles Carroll Everett, in his "Science of Thought; a System of Logic," p. 122. We do not use the epithet "beautiful" loosely or unknowingly. It expresses the character of his expressed thoughts and the impression they make on the reader. His book is a free manifestation of living thought, which is never arbitrary, hasty, or imperfect, but is always real in its manifoldness, and at unity with itself in all its variety. Hence its beauty. We desire to acknowledge our indebtedness to his "Science of Thought" for the leading idea of this essay. If we lead any to the book itself, which we consider the greatest book on Philosophy that has ever appeared in this country, we shall feel that our work has not been fruitless. He makes Thought to be the one reality in the inner and the outer world, and the movements of this living Thought to be the forms of a living Logic.

instincts and of the faith in them, by means of which we gain all our knowledge. It is the good faith of the child in all its growing and developed instincts that is the foundation and procuring means of all its subsequent knowledge of the world, of itself, and of God, in all the ways in which he reveals himself. Everything is correlated, the world of mind with the world of matter; the instincts of the soul with corresponding realities.

Every true instinct has its appropriate, answering, corresponding, reality. The tendril of the vine has its support. The wings of the meanest insect imply the existence of air in which to fly, and the hunger of the most ephemeral creature implies an answering food. Nor can it be that the wings of the mind of man and the hunger of his soul, have not their corresponding realities, but are only given him to misleadhollow mockeries. The plant, the bird, the beast, trust their instincts and use them, and thus live. And man lives in no other way. He trusts his faculties and the truths they give him of the outer and the inner world, and thus gains all his knowledge. Believe, that you may know, is the categorical imperative to science as well as to religion. This natural good faith makes us natural realists in every department of knowledge, instead of idealists, materialists, or sceptics. The world is real, the soul is, and God is, real. Holy scripture says that faith is substance. By virtue of the consubstantiality of the outer and the inner worlds it is the only substance; and that out of which, and by means of which, we weave all our knowledge. The larger our faith the more copious our supply of substance, of realities; for it is the receptive power of the soul that takes in all truth, by virtue of its consubstantiality with all truth. "Faith is only another name for the intuitions of the reason; science is only the reducing all the material of faith to conformity with the fundamental principles of the reason."1 Take away this faith and the consubstantial inner and outer worlds disappear.

1 "The Science of Thought," p. 184.