are incompatible with any standard.
The indefinite splitting of Protestant sects has convinced all clear
thinkers that the claim of the early Confessions to a divinely given
power of distinguishing the true from the false has been a mistaken
supposition. As a proof to an unbeliever, such a gift could avail
nothing; and as evidence to one's own mind, it can only be accepted by
those who deliberately shut their eyes to the innumerable contradictions
it offers.[140-1]

While, therefore, in this, if anywhere, we perceive the only at once fit
and definite answer to prayer, and find that this is acknowledged by all
faiths, from the savage to the Christian, it would seem that this answer
is a fallacious and futile one. The teachings of inspiration are
infinitely discrepant and contradictory, and often plainly world-wide
from the truth they pretend to embody. The case seems hopeless; yet, as
religion of any kind without prayer is empty, there has been a proper
unwillingness to adopt the conclusion just stated.

The distinction has been made that "the inspiration of the Christian is
altogether _subjective_, and directed to the moral improvement of the
individual,"[140-2] not to facts of history or questions of science,
even exegetic science. The term _illumination_ has been preferred for
it, and while it is still defined as "a spiritual intelligence which
brings truth within the range of mental apprehension by a kind of
intuition,"[141-1] this truth has reference only to immediate matters of
individual faith and practice. The Roman church allows more latitude
than this, as it sanctions revelations concerning events, but not
concerning doctrines.[141-2]

Looked at narrowly, the advantage which inspiration has been to
religions has not so much depended on what it taught, as on its strength
as a psychological motive power. As a general mental phenomenon it does
not so much concern knowledge as belief; its province is to teach faith
rather than facts. No conviction can equal that which arises from an
assertion of God directly to ourselves. The force of the argument lies
not in the question whether he did address us, but whether we believe he
did. As a stimulus to action, prayer thus rises to a prime power.

Belief is considered by Professor Bain and his school to be the ultimate
postulate, the final ground of intellection. It is of the utmost
importance, however,--and this Professor Bain fails to do--to
distinguish between two