as a reaction from
infidelity; just as infidelity is now spreading as a reaction from
the attempted restoration of Romanism. That England is not prepared
at present is sufficiently shown by the result of the recent
agitation. Could it terminate otherwise? Was it possible that
England, in the nineteenth century, could be brought to adopt the
superstitions of the Middle Age? If she could, she would have
deserved to be left to the consequences of her besotted folly. We
may say, as Milton said, in his day, to the attempted restoration
of superstitions which the Reformers had already cast off; "O, if
we freeze at noon, after their easy thaw, let us fear lest the sun
for ever hide himself, and turn his orient steps from our
ungrateful horizon justly condemned to be eternally benighted."
No, it is not from this quarter that England must look for the
chief dangers which menace religion, except, indeed, as these
dangers are the inevitable, the uniform result of every attempt
to revive the obsolete past. The principal peril is from a subtle
unbelief, which, in various forms, is sapping the religion of our
people, and which, if not checked, will by and by give the Romish
bishops a better title to be called bishops in partibus infidelium
than has always been the case. The attempt to make men believe
too much naturally provokes them to believe too little; and such
has been and will be the recoil from the movement towards Rome.
It is only one, however, of the causes of that widely diffused
infidelity which is perhaps the most remarkable phenomenon of our
day. Other and more potent causes are to be sought in the
philosophic tendencies of the age, and especially a sympathy, in
very many minds, with the worst features of Continental speculation.
"Infidelity!" you will say. "Do you mean such infidelity as
that of Collins and Bolingbroke, Chubb and Tindal?" Why, we have
plenty of those sorts too, and--worse; but the most charming
infidelity of the day, a bastard deism in fact, often assumes a
different form,--a form, you will be surprised to hear it, which
embodies (as many say) the essence of genuine Christianity! Yes;
be it known to you, that when you have ceased to believe all that
is specially characteristic of the New Testament,--its history,
its miracles, its peculiar doctrine--you may still be a genuine
Christian. Christianity is sublimed into an exquisite thing
called modern "spiritualism." The amount and quality of "faith"
are