Chapter XII (1)

Honesty. A question propounded. Are "divines" honest?
Meaning of the word. Learners and teachers--their
relations to each other. Honesty expected in a professor.
Teachers of religion are trusted--they are bound to be
faithful. Political rights of men in respect of the clergy
of the Established Church. Right to see that religion is
not adulterated. Man's right to truth. What truth is not.
Assertions required at "ordination." Canonical Scriptures.
Verbal inspiration. Doubts of laity. Two schools--those
who will and those who will not inquire. Rev. Dr
Colenso. Rev. Dr Browne. Precious stones and "paste."
How should a doubt be tackled--by inquiry, or by ignoring
it? An analogy. Compass and bible. If compass wrong,
why steer by it? Passenger and captain--one appeals to
stars, the other to his owners and the seamen under him.
Precision of Colenso--his words falsified so as to be
confuted: this is not honesty. Is Bishop Browne honest in
controversy? Tabernacle, temple, doors, &c. The _Speaker's
Commentary_ not an honest book. Papal falsehoods; false
decretals; false letter from Prester John. Pious frauds.
Influence of dishonest teaching on education. The point
involved in sectarian discussions. Lying miracles--are
they promulgated honestly? Is it honest in religion to
promulgate that which we knew to be wrong, or which we dare
not inquire into for fear of consequences? Do Papal
authorities believe in the annual miracle at Naples? The
Protestant Church judged by a ruler of Siam. Bigotry, by
not inquiring, does not establish truth. Each man who is
deceived has a propensity to deceive others. The masses
agree to be deceived. Mr Gladstone on education. His
proposition that inquiry is bad if it leads to change of
religious opinions. Anecdotes of stupidity. Sailing in
search of truth. Captains who avoid the right course.
The condition of society when the schoolmaster overrides the
ecclesiastic. Reason and education ought to precede
faith. Result of honesty. Divines recoil from the honest
truth. Parsons in their pulpit preach what their week-day
precepts oppose. Honesty in ecclesiastical matters is not
the best policy. Divines and the silversmiths of Ephesus.
Examples. An honest parson is persecuted by his fellows:
this insures mediocrity and bigotry. If an author cannot
be persecuted he is avoided. Ecclesiastics persecute
their colleagues, but do not prove them wrong.
Excommunication easier than refutation. What an honest
merchant and divine should do when they discover a diamond
to be paste. Ought the divine to be less honest than the
merchant? The Author's challenge. Conclusion.

I am now about to propound a question which I have heard mooted in quiet by many, but for which publicity seems to be dreaded by all--_viz_., "Is there honesty amongst Christians, and especially amongst the hierarchy of the Churches of England and Rome?"

No one can doubt the importance of the subject; there is not a thoughtful person who does not, in words at least, scorn to build up his everlasting belief upon a fable, and who does not affect to be disgusted with everyone who is deliberately untruthful I speak not now of those time-servers who regard every artifice to be fair in love, war, and theology; but only of those earnest minds who are anxious to seek out and to hold fast that which is true, and who, under all circumstances, resolve to be honest with themselves. That there may be no doubt as to the sense in which I use the word, the following may be regarded as, in my opinion, the synonyms which are properly given in _Webster's Dictionary_--"Integrity, probity, uprightness, trustiness, faithfulness, honour, justice, equity, fairness, candour, plain dealing, veracity." To this may be added--"not bearing false witness."

Presuming that English scholars agree in this definition, let me now inquire whether "we"--by which term I mean the non-theological class by profession--have a right to expect "honesty" amongst our teachers--be they Roman, Anglican, Hibernian, Scottish, Unitarian, Wesleyan, or of any other body? and, in the next place, whether we get that to which we are entitled? Presuming that it is necessary to begin with the foundation, let us first inquire into "our rights," and whence they are supposed to be derived.

The positions of a learner and a teacher--or a disciple and a master--are, in some cases, different to what they are in others; for example, I need not, unless I think it desirable, learn astronomy, chemistry, the art of telegraphing, or that of ship-building; but if I do elect to learn any of these matters, and engage a man to instruct me, I have a legal claim upon him for his services. There is, indeed, a contract between us--he engaging to teach me, and I agreeing to pay him for his labour. In my selection of a professor, it is quite possible that I have not chosen the best; nay, seeing that I require to be taught, it is nearly certain that I cannot assume the position of a judge as regards the superiority of one teacher over another. But when the agreement is once entered into, each of the parties is bound to perform his part of the contract to the best of his ability. If, for example, I bargain with a master to teach me Spanish, and I, being wholly ignorant thereof, am instructed in Portuguese, I have a definite legal claim for redress.

If, on the other hand, the law, or the custom of the country, compels me to take a certain class of teachers, whether they are competent or worthless, I, as one of the community, am justified in investigating the intellectual power of the professors, individually and collectively, in every way in my power.

At one period, when autocracy, or tyranny, was supreme, this right was denied, and the legislators made it a criminal matter for any one to call in question the nature of the instruction which was given to the people in matters of politics, religion, and other things, wherein the government was concerned. At the present time there are few, if any, states whose ruling powers demand from the people such an abject submission.

But, although a republic may allow unlimited latitude of opinion in matters of political economy, there may be a religious section within it, which consists of those who consent to be led, in matters of faith, by certain individuals, who, on their parts, are declared to be, by some power that the laity are disposed to submit to, the only persons competent to conduct persons to a happy eternity.

Every individual in such a family is associated with the rest by voluntary ties. He may, if he chooses, inquire into the capacity of his guide; he is at perfect liberty to analyse his arguments, to inquire into his allegations, and, speaking generally, to test his truth. If, as a result of the investigation, any one is satisfied that the teacher is incompetent, the two are perfectly clear to make new engagements. There has been no definite contract, nor can there be any legal claim for a presumed breach thereof.

When, on the other hand, there is a State Religion, supported by Parliamentary authority, and to which, in one way or another, the majority of the people must subscribe, each man has as perfect a right to see that he gets what he pays for, as he has to see that the member of parliament for whom he votes, does not neglect the interests of the town which he represents.

As an Englishman, I have no right to call in question the power of the Pope of Rome, the Patriarch of the Greek Church, the Elder of the Mormon Communion, the Arch-Pneuma of the Spiritualists, or any other religious head, to teach his followers any doctrine that he may please. I may laugh at the "false decretals" of the papacy, and the charlatanerie of the clairvoyants; but no political right supports me in my calling them to account for their stewardship.

On the other hand, when I know that the bishops of the Church of England are parties to the formation of our laws, and I find myself called upon to pay tithes or dues to individuals of the same establishment, I have a political right to ascertain, that the persons actually do what they profess to do for their money or position. If, for example, I live in a sparsely populated district, I and all my family are dependent upon the parson of the parish for instruction how to get to heaven; or, as an alternative, if I do not agree with his doctrine, I may abstain from being instructed at all. If, on the contrary, I inhabit a large town, still I am dependent for religious teaching upon the state clergyman, unless I elect to do without him, and any one else of the same persuasion, or select some non-conformist preacher who is to me no less offensive than the parliamentary parson.

When a confraternity has obtained, no matter how, or by what means, a definite prescriptive right to sell a certain material to the community at large, the latter have certainly a legal power to see that the stuff given is according to contract. If a company of millers engage, for certain privileges, to sell good wheat flour to all comers, the last can deprive them of their exclusive right, provided that it can be proved either that the flour is bad, or that it comes from barley, rye, oats, or potatoes, or is adulterated with gypsum, &c.

Presuming that this argument is tenable, our next inquiry is into that which our national church professes to sell, or to impart, in return for its privileges. In the fewest possible words we may say, that its duty is to impart "truth," or to teach what is, in its learned and educated opinion, the true religion for life and eternity.

The word truth is one which lies at the root of our question respecting honesty. Pilate is reported to have said--"What is truth?" We may put the same question now.

Without saying what "truth" is, we can readily declare what is "untruth." It is not truth if we, in argument, misrepresent an adversary; affirm that he made a certain statement, and then oppose--not the thing said--but some other matter which was not spoken of at all, and then assert that we have confuted him.

It is not truth to affirm, that observations recently made have been oftentimes presented before, and always successfully refuted, when the remarks in question are novel, never have been controverted, and apparently, are not capable of being disproved.

It is not truth to affirm, that human "authority," which, has been long acknowledged, can falsify "a fact," or make an unfounded assertion equal to a reality; or to declare, that one religion is good and another bad, simply because the speaker believes the matter to be so.

It is not truth to assert, that a certain book, and every part of it, is the revealed word of God, when it is known to be contradicted by science--i.e.t by a knowledge of the laws imposed on creation by its Maker, to be inconsistent with itself, and to contain internal evidence that it was composed by men of small knowledge and of grovelling disposition.

It is not truth to affirm, that if God's world proves what is called God's Book to be wrong, science must be neglected and the Bible upheld.

It is not truth to affirm that God spoke exclusively to one people, when it is known that the race in question drew nearly, if not quite, all their religious beliefs, from the neighbours amongst whom they were thrown.

It is not honest to propound in the pulpit the propriety of examining the Scriptures daily, and yet to persecute any one who by doing so becomes convinced of their human origin.

It would be honest, and prove the existence of a love of truth, if every preacher of every denomination spent as much time in trying the value of his text-book, as he does now in expounding it and explaining it away.

We should imagine that a minister loved truth, if he were first to ask himself how he treats the Vedas and Puranas, the Avesta, the Koran, the Apocryphal Gospels, the Apocrypha, the Book of Mormon, the visions and prophecies of "Latter-day saints," "Friends," Roman visionaries, and the oracles delivered at Delphi and elsewhere, and then to treat his own book with the same measure as he used with the others.

On the other hand, we should regard him as untruthful and dishonest, if he weighed the books and belief of others with weights and scales different to those with which he tried his own.

From each minister of religion the people have a right to demand an impartial inquiry into the absolute value of the doctrines which he teaches, and an investigation into the foundation, as well as the superstructure; and they may require, still further, that he, like Great-heart in Bunyan's story, shall do battle with assailants. When such a leader professes to fight, but always avoids the shock of battle, he cannot be regarded either as honest, or as comparable with Valiant-for-truth in the _Pilgrim's Progress_.

We are then, as laymen, justified in requiring that our spiritual leaders shall take a conspicuous part in examining the grounds of the faith which they teach, and that the leaders of the Established Church shall seek to establish its doctrine upon as firm basis as it is possible to obtain.

This certainly involves inquiry and discussion upon those points which modern criticism has prominently advanced.

When we turn to the "Prayer Book," we find that Deacons are required to say, that they unfeignedly believe all the Canonical Scriptures. Priests are obliged to affirm that the Holy Scriptures contain sufficiently all doctrine required of necessity for eternal salvation, through faith in Jesus Christ, &c. In the consecration of bishops the same, or nearly the same, formula is gone through. Thus, at the outset of their career, the ministers of the Church of England commit themselves to, or are required by law to make, a declaration which will preclude inquiry into the value of the book on which their teaching is founded; their first step in the ministry puts it out of their power to be honest, if experience should teach them more than they knew when young. The bishops and priests, however, when they subscribe to the opinion that the Bible contains all things necessary for salvation, do not pledge themselves to the belief that every sentence, part, division, book, or arrangement of the Canonical Scriptures is, and must of necessity be, true. Even in the dawn of ecclesiastical information in England, there was not a belief in the verbal inspiration of the Bible.

Of late years, when habits of thought and the art of printing have increased, the knowledge, and consequently, the power of the laity disproportionally to the advance made by clerics--a strong propensity to accumulate facts, and to argue thereupon has been very generally developed, and the increased information obtained has induced steadily increasing numbers to doubt, not only the verbal inspiration, but even the historical truth of the Scriptures. When this difficulty occurred, or rather, when it became recognized, scholars, no matter whether they were professional or amateur ecclesiastics, divided themselves involuntarily (we may fairly say, unknowingly, inasmuch as each individual worked quite independently, in the first place, of another) into those who believed that, if the Holy Spirit dictated the Scriptures, he must have seen that his amanuensis wrote correctly; those who imagined that the Bible was to be taken "in the lump;" and those who considered that the Scriptures are entirely of human origin, and absolutely valueless as a guide of faith. Consequently, three schools have arisen, two of which are essentially ecclesiastic. Of these, one regards all inquiry into the accepted text as improper, the other considers that everything should be done to verify the value of the so-called original Scripture.

Amongst the latter, Dr Colenso, Bishop of Natal, stands out conspicuously. Of the highest intellectual attainments, trained to close and scientific inquiry; able, far better than men of meaner capacity, to weigh the value of "evidence," whether "ancient or modern," he has drawn the conclusion that the Bible is not what it is generally supposed to be; in other words, that its historical portions are not trustworthy, and that there is grave reason to believe its writings to have been produced for a purpose, which involved dishonesty in the scribe, and in the promulgator of his writings. The learned doctor was honest in his investigation, and fearless in announcing his conclusions.

As an upright man, the Bishop of Natal is as completely justified in his inquiry into the validity or importance of an ancient book, alleged to be a pearl of great price, a gem or diamond of the first water, as the official curator of a museum would be, in determining whether a certain ruby, given into his charge, were real or artificial. Of the necessity of such an inquiry, the following anecdote, which was told me by the gentleman concerned, will convince the reader:--

A wealthy lady, of high position in life, sent to a museum, for exhibition, a number of "precious stones." If they were really what they were supposed and stated to be, their value would have been reckoned by thousands of pounds sterling. If accepted as genuine, and found, upon their restoration to the depositor, to be imitation jewels, the curator would be liable, not only for their value, but his character for honesty would be gone; consequently, ere he gave a receipt for the lot, he tested each. Not one was real!

This man was in the position which Dr Colenso occupies now. The owner of the jewels was indignant at the idea that the stones were false, and the apparent insinuation that imitations were being foisted on the public as realities; but her fury did not alter the fact. If she were artful, her plan was detected; if she had been deceived, her anger, though useless, was justified.

On the other hand, there are many Bishops who uphold the verbal inspiration of the Bible, and will not inquire if the gem be real, or only test it by plans known to be valueless for the purpose. Some do not go altogether so far as this, They consider it obligatory upon them to examine just a little bit, but not to go too deeply, lest they should be forced to believe that there never was such a man as Moses--a man who is commonly reported to have written certain books at a distant period. Some persons seem to think that their hope of happiness in this, as well as in another world, and not only their own, but that of everybody who is under their instruction, depends upon their feeling sure that Israel was once in Egypt--that Abraham begat Isaac, and became the progenitor of an innumerable offspring, exceeding in number the Indians of Hindostan, the Assyrians of Mesopotamia, the Egyptians of the Nile, and the Romans of Italy. Between these two inquirers, if the latter class can fairly be called such, the issue is distinct. There can be no difficulty amongst scholars as to the means by which the question ought to be settled.

An appeal to hard and dry facts is the plan adopted by philosophers. For men, who have a single eye to discover the truth, it matters little in what direction their inquiries lead them. Metaphorically speaking, they may begin a series of investigations, expecting that everything will lead them northwards, and they end by reaching the south; just as many an enthusiastic, but little instructed, man has accumulated "pyrites," under the impression that it was an ore of gold, and found, on inquiry, that the material was a sulphuret of iron, and of small commercial value.

But it is this very possibility of research bringing them to an undesirable goal, which deters so many of our divines from making any inquiry. Outwardly, they allow that it is their duty, as leaders, to examine, not only the condition of their own forces, but the position and power of those who assail the army which they profess to guide. Inwardly they find reasons for remaining quiet, and excuse themselves to their followers in some plausible fashion.

Why, however, should any goal be undesirable which leads us nearer to truth? Why should any body of professedly learned-men run the risk of being considered wanting in honesty, or candour, by avoiding their opponents, whom they are in honour bound to encounter?

The reply to these questions generally runs thus:--"We, as ministers of the Established Church of England, are bound to be faithful to the Bible, and to it we must adhere, whatever our own private judgment may be. We did not make the law; we simply take it as we find it, and, having sworn to obey it, we do so." This answer would be exhaustive, if it were the fact that the laity made the law for the theologians. But, as we know, that the ecclesiastics have, in the last resort always made laws for themselves, the rejoinder is not conclusive History tells us how ministers of religion have instructed the people, and how these, again, have legislated under the tuition of their advisers. When Paganism was supplanted by Christianity, the change was effected by preachers, who taught the populace to believe the new doctrine, and who influenced the minds of the lawmakers. In like manner, when Popery in England was put down by the Protestants, each party was headed by its priests. Many a minister, at that period, felt bound to follow what he believed to be truth, rather than to abide by a vow made in youth; and they who had upheld the authenticity of Popish miracles, and of Apocryphal Scriptures, ceased to give credence to them, or to use them as authorities in matters of religion. These men were honest.

That which has been done by men aforetime, may be done or imitated in our own day; and our divines have as great a power to examine into the value of the Bible now, as they had at the Reformation. If they refuse to make the inquest suggested--in what way, may we ask, do they differ from the Romanists in the time of Luther, who would not inquire into the truth of his arguments lest they should be convinced? Can any one who professes to be a Protestant--a child of the Reformation--honestly refuse to investigate the grounds of the faith which is in him, and shelter himself, as Bonner and others did, under the pretext of a declaration or vow made at ordination?

If those who make the excuse just referred to, are honest, they are bound to reject every doctrine which they, or their predecessors, have received from Romish priests, who propounded in adult life, doctrines different to those which they professed when yet almost children.

To illustrate the tendency of our remarks still further, let us, for a moment, suppose that the captain of a ship has, from any cause whatever, adopted a particular "compass" by which he directs his course, and which perhaps he calls by the name of Faith. All in the vessel are, to a great extent, dependent upon him for a successful voyage, and a safe arrival at the desired haven. Seeing how the master-mariner honours the magnetic needle, every thoughtful passenger will probably consult it in like manner. One more advanced in knowledge than the rest may desire to test the instrument by the position of the pole star, and thinking that he could recognize the latter, might infer that the magnet did not point truly. This doubt, we will imagine still further, he imparts to the captain, who, disinclined to distrust his compass, endeavours to demonstrate that the position of the pole star is doubtful.

In the place of the mariners' compass let us read the "Bible," and, instead of the pole star, let us substitute "science." We shall then recognize the position of such men as the Bishop of Winchester and Dr Colenso--the latter endeavours to test the value of the instrument which is most used by churchmen by certain well-known means; the former, on the contrary, aims to demonstrate that what he regards as a true indicator is so in spite of all which the planets prove to the contrary.

To carry on our metaphor a point further, let us imagine that the captain and the doubting passenger appeal to the seamen and the other people on board the barque--the latter telling in simple terms the grounds of his belief, whilst the former appeals to the passions of those who have long trusted him, and only notices the arguments of his opponent to misrepresent them. This is what was done by the Papists, in every country, at the time of the Reformation, and which more recently has been done by the Bishops and Archbishops of the Church of England, when in controversy with the Bishop of Natal Dr Colenso has in voluminous works, and with a precision which every scholar must admire, shown that the Old Testament--the "compass" of churchmen--is not what it is supposed to be. Against his views a new "Bible commentary" has been issued, with the sanction of the highest ecclesiastical dignitaries; and in it the authors stoop to misrepresentation! If there were no pretence of joint authorship, one might imagine that each writer was responsible only for his own shortcomings; but when there is a parade of great names, which is intended to demonstrate the almost infallible truth of everything (except typographical errors), one is bound to treat the contributors as being on a level with each other, and all hierarchical coadjutors. How can any one, with a tendency towards fair dealing, characterize but with the epithet "contemptible dishonesty," a deliberate quotation from Dr Colenso, which is falsified, that the fabrication may be refuted? The Bishop of Natal's argument is a just one, and, although it is only contained in a note and not in the text itself, is of great weight. It runs thus (Part v., p. 97)--"Of course the fact that the tabernacle at Shiloh had _doors_ (1 Sam. iii. 15)-- that the lamp was allowed regularly to _go out_ in it (1 Sam. iii. 3), and that Samuel _slept_ in it, and apparently Eli also (1 Sam. iii. 2, 3), are sufficient to show that this could not have been the 'Mosaic Tabernacle.'" This is a fair and scholarly statement; the layman recognizes it as such, and looks to his ecclesiastical superior for an honest opinion on its value. What does he find? Simply this--Bishop Browne answers: "The objection (Colenso, Part v., p. 97) that the Tabernacle (at Shiloh) could not be the tabernacle, in the wilderness, because it had a 'door' (1 Sam. ii. 22) is rather singular, if we observe that the words in Samuel, on which the objection is founded-- 'The women that assembled at the door of the tabernacle of the congregation'--are literally a quotation from Exod. xxxviii. 8--'The women assembling, which assembled at the door of the tabernacle of congregation.' Of course the word door, fine _pethah_, is as applicable to a tent door as to a house door, and is constantly used of the door of the Tabernacle in the Pentateuch."

In this observation of the Bishop of Winchester a false issue is deliberately raised; the quotation given by Colenso is not touched, and for it another, wide of the mark, is substituted! In the verse referred to by the Bishop of Natal the words are--"And Samuel lay until the morning, and opened the doors of the house of the Lord," &c.--"doors" being in the original, _dalethoth_--a different word altogether to _pethah_, and certainly in the plural number. In other language, we may say that in the _Speaker's Bible_, almost every argument and criticism of Colenso and his German authorities are left unnoticed and unanswered; and this, almost the only quotation made, is not a true one! Is this honest? So gross, in my opinion, is the want of candour shown in this case, that I, for one, cannot trust a single assertion of the Bishop of Ely, now translated to Winchester, even when he quotes chapter and verse, until I have verified the extract.

But the flagrancy of the proceeding is, if it can be, heightened by a reference to the subject Dr Colenso was endeavouring to show, by those undesigned coincidences, that hierarchs profess to love so much, and which they parade with great earnestness when it suits their purpose, that the tabernacle at Shiloh was not that described in the Pentateuch. It was perfectly open to Dr Browne to adduce evidence that it was the same. This he does not do--the scholar can well understand the reason why, viz., that a close inquiry supports the Bishop of Natal's view. For example, in 1 Sam. L 9, we find that Eli is sitting "upon a seat by a post of the temple of the Lord." This sentence is significant in English, it is much more so in Hebrew. The words "post" and "temple" certainly are quite incompatible with a tent or tabernacle. In the Hebrew, the tabernacle is generally spoken of as _ohel_, whilst "temple" is _heckal_. Still further, the expression, "post of the temple," is peculiar, because a corresponding one is found only once in the Old Testament--viz., in Ezek. xli. 21, where the English version has "the posts of the temple," whilst the marginal reading has "post" The word _heckal_ is in constant use throughout the later Jewish books, but does not occur once in the Pentateuch; and it is a significant fact that, in 1 Kings xxi. 1, 2 Kings xx. 18, Ps. xlv. 8, cxliv. 12, Pro. xxx. 28, Is. xiii. 22, xxxix. 7, Dan. i. 4, the word in question is translated in our authorized version _palace_.

As the idea of a palace--a royal residence, is totally distinct from a tent or tabernacle, it is clear that the narrative about Eli, Hannah, and Samuel, was written by some one to whom the story told in the Pentateuch was quite unknown. The dishonesty--we speak thus, controversially--of the bishops concerned in the new commentary is not only shown in the _suggestio falsi_, but in the _suppressio veri_; and no amount of skill in argument or of book-learning can, amongst those who are aware of the fraud, get over the effect which is produced by the cheat. It is evident, that the questions which the Bishops ask themselves are--"Since there are so many who are wholly ignorant of this matter, shall we not do more to uphold current ideas by fraud than by truth?" and, "Is it not right for us to risk our own souls in support of a faith which we do not, but which the people do, believe?"

In a time when all men are ignorant enough not to understand what is history and what pure fable; when they are so careless as not to examine quotations, made from "authorities," in confirmation of opinions, or so credulous as to believe anything which a churchman, and, _par-excellence_, a Bishop, may affirm, it may be regarded by ecclesiastical writers as a pardonable sin, if not, indeed, a tactical master stroke, to misrepresent an adversary. But in the present day, when all educated Englishmen have heard of the false decretals on which the Popes have founded their claims to superiority, and the astute legend of Prester John, it is bad policy for a Bishop to found an argument upon a wrong quotation, or to imagine that a glaring untruth can by any possibility support his position. For myself, I confess that I began to read the _Speaker's Commentary_ with interest, inasmuch as it purported to be an exposition and refutation of the arguments against the authenticity of certain Biblical writings; but when I found an English hierarch could so forget his duty to "the truth" as to misquote such a man as his episcopal brother, the Bishop of Natal, I abstained from a farther perusal, for I found the necessity of verifying quotations involved more time than I could afford. Dr Colenso has, however, sufficiently shown the viciousness of the new commentary, and there is no necessity for a second investigator.

From what has been said, we have shown that the members of the Church of England, and all Protestant dissenters, have a right to expect from their teachers an opinion, founded upon learned inquiry, "whether the objections made by scholarly critics against the inspiration of the Bible are well founded," and that ministers of all denominations, as a body, not only shirk the duty, but persecute such of their fraternity as venture to do so.

When an individual in the community accepts a trust and does not fulfil it, he is amenable to the law; and if it can be proved that there has been wilful negligence, the trustee may be punished. This does not, however, apply directly to the clergy, for the trust which is confided to them is to preach and teach from the Bible. That, certainly, is what they engage to do before the law, but the very essence of their existence as ministers of religion is, that they shall instruct men in the way of salvation. This trust, which is never put into legal phraseology, is proclaimed to be in existence by every preacher; and each minister, by implication or assertion, declares that he is desirous of exercising this trust to the best of his ability. If, then, the real value of his leadership is challenged, he ought, as a champion, to defend it. He does so in every point, except that which is most essential He will discuss circumcision with a Jew, infant christening with a baptist, purgatory with a popish priest, bishops with a presbyterian, confession with a ritualist, and the like. There must, then, be some cause why Revelation should not be treated of.

If we consult human nature, the only causes to which we can assign this reticence are, conscientious cowardice and dishonesty. The first is, by many persons, regarded as a duty--they are taught that it is sin to doubt; the second is not called by its right name. Yet, as we have said elsewhere, our religious societies are founded upon the principle of sowing doubt broadcast; and we denounce the pious frauds which invented winking virgins and bleeding nuns. Surely, if there be any truth in the line--"An honest man's the noblest work of God," it is most essential that they, who style themselves His ministers, ought to be conspicuously honourable, candid, and thoroughly trustworthy in matters of doctrine as well as of morality.

The subject on which we are now treating has ramifications so wide, that it is difficult to see the end of the branches. Amongst the most obvious is the influence which it has upon the matter of public education--one which occupies a large portion of the interest of our nation at the present time.

In our preceding vol. II., p. 113, we have a note to the effect that there is much doubt upon the subject whether faith ought to be drilled into the minds of our youth prior to an acquisition of, or the power of using, their reasoning faculty, and we remarked that the question is far too extended to be treated in a casual note.

The matter was shortly afterwards discussed in parliament, but not one of the orators ventured to touch upon the point involved. If we ask ourselves "the reason why," it is probable that the answer would run--because all the interlocutors did not venture to be honest; by which I mean, did not wish to utter, in distinct language, the opinions that they held, and the end which they sought. There are some legislators who regard moral cowardice as a virtue, and political dishonesty as a desirable kingcraft.

If an observer of the parliamentary debates, to which we refer, was also a diligent and thoughtful reader of orations made in country towns and metropolitan districts, by preachers and teachers of all our various religious denominations, he would readily come to the conclusion that there was something underlying every speech, which was never allowed to come to the surface--a something which each was perfectly cognizant of, but which it would be unmannerly to name, or even to hint at strongly. It is not, in public meetings, or in parliament, permitted to any speaker to accuse an adversary of falsehood or dishonesty.

Yet, what an orator may not judiciously say of particular individuals, a writer may assert of a class, or of a single person, if he is a representative of a body. I may, for example, accuse the Pope of dishonesty in misrepresenting certain well-known facts. I may equally charge controversial writers with fraud, when they falsify the words or arguments of an opponent. Whoever frames such an indictment is, however, bound to take into consideration the possibility of there being an unintentional error. It may, for example, be true that Popes never see newspapers which tell the truth, and that divines may quote without ever reading the book which they profess to criticise. In both cases the critic acquits them of malice, but only to convict them of culpable ignorance.

When we investigate how this bears upon education, we ask ourselves--"Do we, as historians, or in our capacity of reading men, know that the pretensions of the Church of Rome are founded upon, or are bolstered up by, assertions which every learned man knows, or ought to know, are unworthy of belief?"

To be more particular, let us propound the question--Does any Papal hierarch believe that Francis of Assisi received certain bodily marks on his hands and feet direct from Jesus? or that any portion of the blood of a man has been preserved for ages in the Cathedral of Naples, as having once belonged to a person who is called by the same name as the first month in our year? We might readily increase our queries by remarking about St. Dennis, St. George, St Fou-tin, and a variety of others who appear in the Roman heaven. Our purpose, however, will be answered if we ask, whether the thoughtful amongst us do not object to the Papal faith, because those who proclaim it are not to be trusted?

If we listen to energetic Protestant divines, we hear much of "lying wonders," wrought by Antichrist, which are calculated even to deceive the very elect. These men frequently quote such passages as the following:--"Trust ye not in lying words, saying, The temple of the Lord, the temple of the Lord, the temple of the Lord, are these" (Jer. vii. 4); "They have committed villany in Israel, and have spoken lying words in my name, which I have not commanded them" (Jer. xxix. 23); "Have ye not spoken a lying divination," &c. (Ezek. xiii. 7, 8, 9); "Then shall that Wicked be revealed, whose coming is with lying wonders, and with all deceivableness of unrighteousness; and for this cause God shall send them strong delusions, that they should believe a lie," &c. (2 Thess. ii. 8-12). Indeed, the main objection to the Roman Church, amongst all those who are acquainted with its secret history, is that it is founded, and still exists, upon a foundation of fraud.

There are many who consider that the Churches of England and of Scotland have not a better basis; but both have so many friends in Great Britain, that the sins of neither are closely examined, except by their adversaries.

Each sectarian is fully alive to the want of good faith shown by every other division of the Church of Christ; and not only so, but we have seen, in our own times, a ruler in Siam who knows about them too (see _Wheel of the Law_, by H. Alabaster; Triibner & Co., London, 1871), and is perfectly alive to the fact that we deceive ourselves.

It is a part of human nature that each individual has a propensity to deceive himself or herself. A child, who has been told that Old Bogy lives in a certain cupboard, will not go and look therein; a man who adores a lovely wife will not believe in her frailty; and a fond woman will not credit even her father, when he tells her that her admirer is a worthless scoundrel.

We grant this readily, but we add the proviso, that we only allow ourselves to be deceived by our own friends. It would be, to all of us, a frightful infliction if our sons or daughters were to tell us that we were under strong delusions, and believing in lies. Consequently, everyone desires that his family shall have a similar faith with his own.

At the present time, however, more conspicuously than at any other since printing was invented, there is, in society, a vast number of men who believe, from their critical inquiries, that all religionists trust in lying vanities which do not profit. These individuals have become sceptics, in consequence of education having led them to think for themselves. Being opposed to all, they are friendly with none; and although they are not aggressive, as a rule, they are vigorously attacked by every sect which steadily refuses to come to the light.

Under these circumstances every hierarch argues: "The education which frees the mind from all the shackles of superstition is prejudicial to us, who earn our living hy making fetters, fixing them, and relaxing them when duly paid to do so. A sound teaching--a style of instruction that will induce the rising generation to examine into our pretensions will cut the ground from under our feet. We must, therefore, endeavour to limit, in some considerable degree, our tuition." Like the Jesuits in Austria and of to-day, they will cram the memory, but not exercise the understanding; they will crowd the mind with lying statements, and prohibit all inquiry. Sectarians, therefore, as a rule, object to education, unless it has a religious element in it. They agree in this point, but differ as to the style of faith which is to be taught Hence all the difference of opinion, for as the sectarians cannot decide upon what faith is to be taught, they object to all instruction whatever. Are they honest?

If, instead of nursing a private idea, each legislator were boldly to say what he desired to obtain and to avoid, there might be some chance of united action. But when all pretend to work in common, yet not one is absolutely in earnest, and all, more or less, play at "make believe," no valuable end will be obtained.

One politician, whose memory is tenacious, and his temerity great, cannot bear the idea that the British mind should approximate to that of the Germans; and, whilst he eulogizes education, he denounces Strauss. Not because the latter is not a man of profound learning, but because the cultivation of his intellect has led him to certain conclusions which are distasteful to an English politician. This is not honesty.

Again, our bishops and the priesthood generally say, "Education is a desirable thing; it is wrong for man, who has a soul to be saved, not to seek out the way of salvation." But if, in the course of inquiry, a scholar imagines that their way is incorrect, he is anathematized, and his fellows are instructed to believe that no one can find comfort for the soul except in the way patronized by the Church. This, again, is not honest. But--and the word is of mighty import--if, instead of saying this distinctly, a few individuals of high standing in the Protestant community deliberately, and with the intention to deceive--or to retain people in the bonds which astute predecessors have thrown around the laity, state, as their belief, that which their critical knowledge tells them is untrue, or withhold knowledge of importance, because they deem its publication detrimental to ecclesiastical institutions, they are not simply dishonest--they are culpable, and guilty of spiritual murder.

My meaning may be illustrated by one or two pertinent anecdotes: The captain of a man-of-war was doubtful of the existence of a rock laid down upon a chart. One day at dinner he announced to his company the disbelief which he had, adding, that if the spot were truly described, the ship would strike directly. It did so, and few survivors were left to tell the tale. The commander judiciously elected to perish with his vessel. Had he told his officers, and the distinguished passengers whom he was carrying, what he was doing, it is certain that the danger would have been avoided.

Another ship captain was addressed by a civilian who was on board, and told that a hurricane was approaching, which might be avoided by steering in a certain direction; but, metaphorically speaking, the bishop would not listen to the layman. The typhoon came, the vessel was partially dismasted; then the passenger was consulted, and by his aid the ship got out of the danger.

The civilian was well read, not in ancient books, but in modern science; the master mariner knew only his log-book, compass, and "the rule of thumb."

A person who loses his ship because he is too stupid to believe a chart, or the rules of a science, which every scholar may test, deserves the name of an imbecile, and our Board of Trade would deprive him of the power to do any more mischief as a captain; but bishops and priests may pilot their vessel wrongly, for none have any jurisdiction over them, provided always that they steer in the old channels. It matters not how far the way may be shifted, all is supposed to be right, if the old landmarks are still used.

To make our meaning still more clear, let us imagine ourselves a nation of mariners, and of ocean-travellers. We go to school, and learn astronomy, trigonometry, geography, physics, and the like; yet, when we are at sea in any ship whatever, we must neglect our knowledge, and trust implicitly to the captain of our ship. We know that we are, in reality, going southwards, when our proper destination lies to the north: for us it is easy to read the stars, and thus to test both the chronometer and the compass; must we, then, be quiet because we have embarked in a vessel belonging to a certain "line," which is commanded by a master appointed by the "firm" or "company" to which the barque belongs. What is the value of education unless it enables us, when necessary, to find whether we are in the right way or not?

Let us, still further, suppose that we remonstrate with the captain, and that he, in place of arguing the matter fairly, endeavours to override our objections by quoting from ancient geographers, to demonstrate that what we believe to be the wrong is, in reality, the only true way to go; we may be silenced, probably until we accidently discover in the ship's library, a dissertation proving that the old traveller's charts are worthless. When we find out that, what will be our opinion of the captain? Can we believe him to be honest?

If we now were to remonstrate with our naval dictator, and he were to rejoin--"My worthy brothers, I know that you are right, and that I have been wrong. I have, indeed, known it from the time I began to be commander, but my living depends upon my belief in old charts and ancient compasses. I dare not change my plan, for my masters would dismiss me. They know--at least I feel convinced that they are aware, that the old sailing directions are wrong; but they have not the courage to say so, or to alter them--and if I do so, they will cashier me."

Is the "firm" or "company" honest? and if we are to mete out degrees of culpability, to whom must the severest punishment be awarded? Surely, in the case of the Church of England, to her Bishops, who, knowing, as scholars, that their compass and charts are incorrect, yet oblige those under their command to steer by them--thus compelling the men who ought to be standard-bearers in the forefront of intellectual work, either to be silent, or to fight at a disadvantage.

It is the knowledge of the duplicity of a vast number of intelligent divines, which has induced laymen to take the business of education out of the hands of the clergy as a body. The Protestant believes that a Jesuit will not teach correct history; the Romanist feels certain that, even in biography, evangelical narratives cannot be trusted; and Nonconformists generally feel that they cannot rely upon the instruction given by those of a different sect.

It is desirable to sketch, if possible, what would be the condition of society if, in the place of the clergy, there was a set of men trained to the office of instructor, and that all individuals in the kingdom were compelled to attend school for a definite period in their youth. In the first place, nothing would be taught which is not known to be true. After having mastered the rudiments of knowledge, the art of reading, writing, and ciphering, the students would be taught to train their minds in drawing inferences from facts, and the art of passing from imperfect knowledge to certainty. They would be schooled into habits of exactness, and the necessity for careful inquiry before they believed an assertion to have the same power as a fact Those whose inclination led them to study one or more of the arts or sciences, drawing, painting, sculpture, designing, weaving, chemistry, engineering, building, and a host of others, would learn that in every one of them knowledge and precision are required to ensure success.

When the instructor found that his pupils were sufficiently trained to the exercise of reasoning, he would then proceed to explain the ideas which have been entertained by various people about the existence of beings, other than those which can be recognized by the senses. He would lead his class through the geological history of our planet, and point out the sequence of events from the latest formation, to the primary rocks; on his way he would linger on the nature of ancient plants and animals; from our earth he would lead them to a study of the stars, and then point out how very natural is the opinion that all the universe had a designer.

Then, after giving a history of the belief in ancient times, he would gradually descend to our own. He would critically examine the pretensions of any person who had, in former ages, asserted, or who proclaimed now, that he or she knew all about this presumed Creator, and was charged to communicate that knowledge to mankind. After explaining the critical test by which such an assumed mission might be examined--viz., by accurate knowledge of the earth and of mankind, he would apply this trial to all known pretenders to inspiration.

As a result, his pupils might prefer one to another, or refuse to believe in all which have hitherto appeared. In any case, each individual would enter upon the form of faith which he selected with full knowledge of the facts in favour of it. He would, therefore, be a disciple worth having. If, on the other hand, he disbelieved all pretenders to inspiration, his condition would be the result of deliberate reasoning upon ascertained facts, and not built, as all religion now is, upon parrot lore, taught in childhood, ere thoughtfulness has begun to grow.

Assuming that men were thus trained by honest and able instructors, all those people who live upon the weaknesses and the ignorance of the multitude would cease their endeavours to prey upon mankind, and to get a living by playing upon the fears which so many persons have of the unknown. There would then be no religious wars or contests--no popes, prelates, priests, nor deacons. Quackery of all kinds would cease, and statesmen would all agree in endeavouring to procure for mankind the greatest amount of available happiness. This would be the result of honesty. But from such a picture many men absolutely recoil As the effect of training has been to make them believe that unsubstantial things are of sovereign importance, they cannot endure the idea of man being wholly rational; and they insist, as does the late Premier of England, that, if scientific schooling of the mind leads men to neglect what some call Revelation, the plan must be radically bad and worthless. But to eulogise education and to deprecate its results is dishonest. This political tenet or practice resembles that of many a parson, who tells his hearers from the pulpit that they are to "take no thought for the morrow, for the morrow will take thought for the things of itself;" "they are not to take thought for life, for food, for raiment; nor to lay up for themselves treasures upon earth" (Matt vi. 19, 25, 34), and on the week-day urges them to lay by a store against the time of sickness or old age. Such double-dealing is dishonest, and is unworthy of a thoughtful man. If Jesus was right, why not enforce his teaching? if he was wrong, why not say so?