ct, pious in spite of
their want of theological accomplishments; secondly, there is an organ
or faculty of the soul deeper than the intellect, by which (apart from
accurate doctrinal notions) the force of religious realities may be
apprehended and appropriated; and, thirdly, men of the most divergent
and even opposite dogmatic convictions may be, and are, religiously one.
Accordingly, he maintains that the essence of religion must lie in
'something profounder than ecclesiastical and dogmatic considerations.
And could we get at that something--call it spiritual life, godliness,
holiness, self-abnegation, surrender of the soul to God; or, better
still, love and loyalty to Christ as the one Redeemer and Lord of the
spirit--could we pierce deeper than the notions of the understanding to
that strange, sweet, all-subduing temper and habit of spirit, that
climate and atmosphere of heaven in a human breast, should we not find
that there lies the essence of religion?' Religion, in short, is a
matter of feeling rather than of knowledge, a hallowed condition of the
spiritual sentiments and instincts, rather than an orthodox complexion
and arrangement of the spiritual ideas; a thing of the heart rather than
of the head. On this view, it has been argued, though Dr. Caird does not
expressly draw the inference, orthodoxy is not essential to "salvation,"
and heathenism is not a barrier to the blessings of heaven.

One distinguishing characteristic of all Dr. Caird's sermons--and,
indeed, of everything to which he applies himself--is that they are
carefully and conscientiously manipulated. He does not commit himself to
a mere superficial treatment of the subject in hand, but, like John
Bright--to whom in more than one respect he presents a striking
parallel--he takes the utmost pains to provide thoroughly acceptable and
nourishing pabulum for his hearers, believing that whatever is worth
doing, is worth doing well. No man alive has furnished a more fitting
illustration of the lines--

"The heights by great men reached and kept,
Were not attained by sudden flight;
But they, while their companions slept,
Were toiling upwards in the night."

Every sentence which Dr. Caird utters in his discourses is turned and
polished with the consummate art of which he is such a master until it
is a sparkling gem. Hence his diction bears the most crucial test; like
his oratory, his composition is unique.

When the British Association