the later Christian centuries, which had been grasped especially by the hands of Des Cartes and Bacon, never more it would seem to be let go, modern philosophers have turned from the objects by which the material and spiritual worlds attracted them to the direct efforts of knowledge back on the knowing agent itself to detect the modes and laws of its procedure, so as that, in the pursuit of truth, efforts of will might aid spontaneity and deliberate trial and sagacious application of method might carry the logic of nature more speedily and more effectually to the goal of discovery.

This turn in the direction of thought has told with wonderful effect on results both in science and practice in several fields. A reciprocal movement and influence have been going on. Every new discovery of truth or fact turned the philosophical eye afresh, and with enhanced opportunities, back on the nature of the process by which it had been reached; while mutually every look back on the organ of knowledge and its procedure gave new impetus, surer guidance, and added triumphs to the renewed attempts in direct science.

It might be expected that philosophy and theology, being the highest efforts of speculation, would be the last to catch their proper share of advantage from this happy direction of things. And so it has been. Physical science and Biological science have had their Bacon and Whewell and Mill and Jevons, as formal logic formerly its Aristotle. Theological methodicthe method of speculative theology and of Christian evidence and truth-still waits. It awaits its modern epoch, and the man who is to make it. But it is the fact that we are waiting for them, the fact that theologians are taking a reflex direction, and are turning back to consider the method of their own science, and are labouring to make progress only through the truer detection and the surer application of all the elements of that method that is the promise of the present time for Theism.* And somewhat above a twelvemonth ago, an announcement was made to the public that might almost have suggested a question whether, if not the coming prophet of this science, at least his forerunner, were not now at hand. It was the announcement of a new discussion of the subject by a distinguished Scottish philosopher and theologian. From the moment that it was known that the present Professor of Divinity in the University of Edinburgh was to deliver a Baird Lecture,' and that he had chosen Theism' for his subject, all who knew Dr. Flint, and had interest in theistic inquiry, looked forward to the man and the occasion with unusual interest.

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Dr. Flint's name was famous-famous all over the learned world, for speculation on matters of great profundity and much complication. His book, able in itself, and somewhat original to the English language, on Philosophy and History in France and Germany, had been translated into the languages of the most learned continental nations. It had arrested the attention of all competent critics. It was but a fragment of what was to be; but the attention which it drew almost invariably rose into admiration of the writer's unusual genius for acutely threading a way through most intricate regions of inquiry, and his equally conspicuous power of construction and system. He seemed able to defy any amount of manifoldness or perplexity in the details submitted to his handling. These accomplishments of the author seemed the very perfection of qualification for the new endeavours of the Lecture.' 6 The simple facts and faiths in the religious life

* Mr. Percy Strutt's Inductive Method of Christian Inquiry (Hodder & Stoughton, 1877) is an interesting and suggestive book, and a sign of the time. Mr. Josiah Miller's Christianum Organum, or the Inductive Method in Scripture and Science, with its introductory notice by Dr. Gladstone, the well-known chemist and F.R.S. (Longmans, 1870), was an earlier sign.

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It was the

of men, of which Theism is the designation, are like other simple things. When you look along them to their borders, or their foundations, or their guarantees, or their relations to other things, they have a tendency to run into mazes of difficulty or mystery; and it requires sagacious insight, soundness of judgment, and broad and sympathetic views, to keep their simplicity and their truth from prejudice. But it was a combination of these very powers, in a degree not generally surpassed amongst the learned, that was on the anticipated occasion to be brought to bear on the subject. No wonder that keen interest spread far and wide, and hailed the lecturer forward to his task. Theism was now at last to have a favourable opportunity for getting into the right way. There was only one thing imaginable that could check ardour, or give a moment's hesitation to the most sanguine anticipations. The occasion was a 'Lecture,'-a 'Lecture' on a foundation of some hundreds of pounds, and one annually resuscitated. That it was 'The Baird Lecture' was a matter of no consequence for the point alluded to. The word Baird' has to do only with the pounds. 'Lecture' that brought with it the cause of hesitancy; and all lectures, of whatever name, on a like foundation, are liable to the suspicious concomitant. It was a 'Lecture,' though, with the pomp and circumstance of a rich and legalized foundation, yet, both for the author and for the subject, an occasional 'Lecture.' The possible suspense and surmise, therefore, could not be avoided: Had the coming lecturer studied his subject only for the nonce? Was he an expert of previous and long standing in the field of knowledge which he was now to deal with, as he had been in other fields in which he had won fame? Had the mind, competent as it was, and worthy of the great adventure, had time to be thrown out, and familiarly, over the broad details, and back on the deep principles, by which the subject to be discussed was, more than most, characterized? Was this great occasion, after all, in danger of turning out just such a business as has been often enough before witnessed in the hands of even the very greatest of specialists, when they transcended their special field,―as, for instance, when Charles Darwin or Thomas Huxley went in for metaphysic and theology, or Charles Hodge went in for Darwinism and natural science,—was this great occasion to turn out a case of cram? That was the one hesitation that the circumstances of the case inevitably occasioned to the most confident believer in Dr. Flint's genius. But, after all, if the worst came to the worst,-if 'cram' it was to be,-all the world had the refuge of remembering that it was in Dr. Flint's hand it was to be. If ever cram could surpass itself, renounce its crudeness, and do the work of leisure and maturity, it would be now. The recent examples specified need not darken the prospect. Besides, had not Dr. Flint's predecessor in the professorial chair produced perhaps his very best book on the occasion of the sudden call of the very same 'Lecture'? And, moreover, so far as the standing interests of Theism are concerned, such a man as Dr. Flint having once in such circumstances committed himself to the great subject, might be expected to retain his hold of it, and by future elaboration to atone for the insufficiency of a hasty effort, if for such atonement there should be left room. What, then, was the result? When the lecturer came to his post, the eager interest that had spread through town and country, and had followed him from city to city (for the 'Baird Lecture' is peripatetic), at last filled St. George's Church, Edinburgh, to overflowing, and greeted Dr. Flint with the sight of an audience, one of the largest, most intelligent, and enthusiastic that ever listened to lectures in the Scottish metropolis. As it was on the first night, so it continued throughout the course. Neither the audiences nor

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the interest, nor, it may be added, the power of the speaker, waned till the task was finished. It may almost be said of Dr. Flint's luminous prelections on the abstruse subject, what has been said of another celebrated course of lectures given by a French philosopher in the French capital,-' Two thousand auditors listened, all with admiration, many with enthusiasm, to the eloquent exposition of doctrines intelligible only to the few."'

But the result was not complete when Dr. Flint ceased to speak. We have a book,-for the 'Baird' foundation secures the permanence of its lectures in printed form; and the book, if it brings Dr. Flint's disquisition on Theism before a wider, and we may even say a world-wide audience, will also lay them under the ordeal of a steadier and more searching criticism. But upon the whole, the general verdict may be anticipated. The book will be regarded as one of the best books, perhaps the very best book of its generation on its subject,—a prediction, however, that need not in any one raise conceptions of too exaggerated praise. The language is pure and vigorous. These lectures are in the best of the Queen's English.' The arrangement of the subjects, and the delineations, historical and dogmatical, are very clear, and such as to give luminous views. All is light round Dr. Flint's path. So far as he sees clearly himself, the reader always sees the matter which he sets down in writing with exceeding ease and visibility. The points of thought that lie within the writer's reach are grasped with firm and conscious mastery. The ordinarily intelligent reader will have such a sense of intellectual gratification and benefit, that he will follow the author all through just as eagerly as the listeners hung on his spoken words. As for the interests of the more rigorous student, it is plain that Dr. Flint carries even into these lectures, with their voluminous notes, a professor's cares and anxieties, as well as a professor's experience and accomplishments. There is much suggestiveness, and many various features throughout, that are not a little stimulating. The remarks and references in the notes give the volume much of the character of a student's handbook. Altogether, and but for one reservation, which however is a serious one, and must be taken up and dealt with immediately, no better manual on Theism could be put into the student's hand.

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Such, then, has been the result of this 'Lecture,' and such the gain for the popular ear and for literature. But what now has been the result for Theism? Does this book make an epoch for its subject? or, does it at least put Theism into the way most favourable for further advance? must be owned that at this question unqualified approbation must cease,nay, it must give place not only to criticism, but to disappointment and complaint. Dr. Flint's 'Theism' is not an epoch-making book. In truth, even with respect to putting theistic investigation into a way favourable for progress, the book may become the occasion of some other book doing that, but no one can say it has done it itself. Nay, this book cannot even become the occasion of such a better book, except by the future author diverging somewhat radically from Dr. Flint's lines, and rearing not only a new building, but on a new foundation.

The supreme question for Theism is the following: Is the fact of God's existence intuitional or inferential? Is it a fact before and above logic, or is it a fact made out by logical reasonings? In other words, is the fact of the divine existence a fact which a critical and speculative analysis of the processes of the mind shows to be a knowledge native to the mind, or is it one which the mind concludes to through syllogistic reasoning? Or, in other words still, is the existence of God an existence which experience is

merely the occasion of revealing to us, as one which we spontaneously recognise, or is it an existence our knowledge of which is strictly a product of experience itself? This is the critical question for Theism. And all the hopes of an adequate and true speculative doctrine on the subject centre on the affirmation firmly made, and rigorously acted on, of the former of the alternatives thus variously expressed, and on the denial equally strong and consistent of the latter of these alternatives. It is to be observed that a true logic of Theism depends on both the affirmation and the denial specified, because neither the one nor the other of the two alleged modes in which we may become cognisant of God's existence is, in the opinion of some, exhaustive of the possible modes in which the fact may be known. Dr. M'Coshand here we shall find Dr. Flint follows him-substantiates the existence of God by a mongrel evidence, that consists in a fusion of the intuitional and inferential together; while Principal Tulloch and Mr. Jackson hold that the subject is susceptible of both modes of evidence, not in fusion but succession. In opposition to all. this, however, it must be held, for it is true, that intuition is a witness that will give its evidence in company with no other witness whatever. It will stand alone, for it is all-sufficient when its testimony can be adduced; or it will refuse to stand at all, and throw you for your evidence wholly on other sources. It will not come with, before, or after any other witness in the cause. The first-born of reason will not share its birthright with another. Therefore, if theistic evidence be intuitional, it is intuitional alone; if inferential, inferential alone. And, let it be repeated, the coming prophet of Theism must be an intuitionalist. He must have confidence in intuition, and stake his all on its strength. When will men make adequate and timeous resort to the place of principles, and build on the divinely-laid foundation there, all that temple of science which God has laid it to uphold? When will they cease to suspect the very pillars of truth, and learn to love and trust them more than that frail refuge of knowledge— their own reasonings? When, above all, will they cease to rely on their own demonstrations even for the fundamental facts of existence,-nay, even for the chiefest fact of existence, the existence of the infinite One? Immediate knowledge the unproven but accepted and indefeasible assertions of the mind, are the only and sole witness for all the facts of existence, and among the rest for the existence of God. This evidence once given is final. It supersedes and makes inept-even it may be delusive-all other modes and processes that would pretend to a strict establishment of the fact. Our knowledge of the fact of God's existence is not any of the following kinds of knowledge. It is not an inference, either deductive or inductive. It is not a hypothesis merely, the preliminary admission of an uncertain premiss,'* -that kind of assumption or presupposition which, if you consent to take it with you, will be found able to give you an explanation of things, and which for its services in that way you are to reward with the position of established truth. It is not properly a postulate which you need or demand for the same task of unriddling the universe, and to which, again, you give place only because it enables you to do this, and so saves you from the misery of standing before the unveiled Sphinx. The fact of God's existence is no one of all these. It is properly called a datum. It is something given in and to thought, and for the conscious possession of which the mind has to do not one whit else or more than to look critically into itself, analyse its own contents, and speculate on them. The fact of God's existence is not what men's interpre

Ueberwig's Logic, sec. 134. Compare an able discussion in the British and Foreign Evangelical Review, No. 93.

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tation of things is properly said to demand, in order to be possible and rational; it is what is ready given in the mind to be the life and reason of all their rational interpretations. It is not what will do much or everything for the understanding of the universe, if only you are permitted to assume it; it is an element of knowledge which the mind does not need to assume on sufferance, but must take from itself, and own or deny itself. It is,.in a word, not what can be logically demonstrated or inductively established even if you would, and that because it lies at the deepest roots of all possible deduction and induction both. Our knowledge of God is often called a postulate; and other forms of expression are commonly used of a similar character, but similarly inadequate, if the exact point of truth is to be expressed. For instance, we are said to 'need God to account for the world,' or 'to make it intelligible;'* we are under the necessity of assuming God;' 'the principles of our nature demand God;' 'belief in the divine existence harmonises with the religious instincts of our nature.' Now, all these forms of expression may be quite appropriate occurring in a certain line of remark, but they do not express the exact truth; and some at least of those who have used them would be the first to say so-Calderwood, for instance. They go no further than representing God as a hypothesis, or a craving, or a simple necessity. But we may need and not have, seek and not get, crave and not be satisfied. Hamilton's words in reference to Kant point out clearly what are awanting in such expressions. In the character he ascribes to this feeling or belief' (intuitive of God), Kant,' says Hamilton, 'erred. For he ought to have regarded it not as a mere spiritual craving, but as an immediate manifestation of intelligence; not as a postulate, but as a datum; not as an interest in certain truths, or an inclination towards them, but as the fact, the principle, the warrant of their cognition and reality.' We have, besides, more given than we need. But the point here to be noticed is, that what we are said to need is given so as to anticipate the need. The datum may not be detected as such,-few data are, and by few. The true source of the fact may be unobserved; but it is as a datum, or possession of the mind underived through inference or through anything else from anything else, that the fact of God's existence meets the mind of the thinker on God. It is not a truth which you reach only 'in a syllogistical way, deducing and collecting one thing out of another,' and which therefore never places that one truth directly before your eyes without the mediation of the other; it is that kind of truth which brings you directly face to face with the object, and which you know by its own self-revelation, not by the help of anything nearer to you or clearer to you. 'Angels are above syllogisms,' says Culverwell. Even amongst men,' he adds, 'first principles are above disputings, above demonstrations.' The fact of the divine existence is to men like one of these principles. You do not reason yourself into a conviction of God's existence. God is given before He is sought. With Him you may seek all else; from anything else, except only as furnishing occasions and opportunities, you cannot get Him. It is with the reasoner who would bring God within the arms of his thought by his logical processes, as it is with the spiritually awakened soul who would embrace God through the cry of

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*We need God to make the world intelligible; not the world to make God credible' (Fairbairn's Studies). We hear also of a 'propensity to believe,' 'an inclination towards faith in God, etc.

Reid's Works, p. 793. The deeply true and acute remarks of Calderwood (Handbook of Moral Philosophy, p. 37), and in contrast those of Hermes cited by Hamilton (Reid, 800-1), may be considered in relation to the matter in hand. In the remarks in the text it is not meant to refuse a place to instinct in the method of knowledge.