single point, relegate her to the realm of things non-existent? Can we accept her testimony upon one point, and ignore her deliverance upon all others? Truly has Schwegler called this an astonishing inconsequence!

II. The second consequence arising out of the Calvinistic system, to which we would draw attention, is that only one theory of Inspiration is possible-the Dictation theory. The Bible being conceived as God's covenant with man, it must be thought of as specially dictated by Almighty God. No other theory of Inspiration is compatible with Calvinism. The slightest departure from this conception, and the whole Calvinistic theology crumbles to the dust; and of course, with those who view the matter from the Calvinistic point of view, with it goes faith in a supernatural Christianity. But is the Dictation theory tenable in the face of modern criticism? We feel the immense difficulty and delicacy of the question here raised. Though the Church has never given any definition upon the point, yet, ever since the commencement of the fourth century, verbal inspiration (which, though not equivalent to the Dictation idea, is very near to it) has been more or less tacitly accepted and acquiesced in by immense numbers of Catholics. It would be a thankless task, and the part only of the Devil's advocate, rudely and unnecessarily to disturb convictions so hallowed by length of time. Yet the present aspect of the Neological controversy almost forces us to the conviction, that the time has now come when the expediency of so doing ought to be seriously entertained. Verbal inspiration, however extensively it may have been believed, cannot be accepted as the deliberate judgment of the Church. The judgment of the Church can only be ascertained when the question has been fairly raised and argued, and she has been guided to a decision by the Spirit. The matter, therefore, is still open; and it must rest with the authorities to determir.e whether the old state of things is still to remain, or whether the Church, relying on the guidance of God's Spirit, is to address herself to the solution of the question.

The present state of the question is simply this. In the popular conception, the Dictation theory is a matter of life and death to religious faith. Religion is, in fact, rested solely and entirely on this basis. But many objections, incompatible with this supposition, are urged on behalf of the critics. We are not at all disposed to rake up any of these: unhappily, they are only too easy of access to any one who desires to inform himself. It is enough for our present purpose to intimate what an extensive ground they cover. Setting aside the purely critical difficulties as to authorship, &c., we shall find among them inaccuracies in human affairs such as man is liable to-deficient

and wrong views of Nature; ideas natural to an uncultivated age, but which it is almost impossible to believe can have been dictated by God; defective views of moral and spiritual truth, and even imperfect views of God's Being and Attributes. We do not say whether, or how far, these objections are made out; it will be for those in authority to do so. They will have to determine how far answers to them which will relieve the public mind can be put forth. And, in forming their judgment, they will have to bear in mind especially this aspect of the question-that even one of these objections fully sustained will be fatal to religious faith. Though in ninety-nine cases the answers are perfectly sufficient, yet if there is a failure in the hundredth, all the previous labour will go for nothing. of course, too, form a serious question, in this view of the casewhether it is right to rest the religious faith of the people on one single prop, where a formidable case on the opposite side may be made out?-whether this is not necessarily to paralyse both faith and spiritual life? Above all, they will have to consider whether it is fair that religious minds should be kept in a continual state of uncertainty and anxiety, lest some unexpected advance in human knowledge should at any moment render reconciliation impossible.

It will

It would be presumptuous in us to dogmatize in a case of so much difficulty. Yet, as the matter is still undecided by the Church, and as it is occasioning a widespread anxiety, we may be permitted to express certain views, which long and anxious and, as we trust, reverent thought on this matter has suggested. We desire especially to say that what we propose must be considered merely as tentative-as offered by way of suggestion for abler and more spiritual minds, not as if we were fully convinced that what we have to say must be the truth.

1. In the first place, then, it will be obvious, from what has been said, that to the Catholic, the Dictation theory need not be, as it certainly is to the Calvinist, a matter of life and death. The Catholic Faith is sufficiently established independent of the Inspiration of Scripture. Were the doctrine of Inspiration, as commonly held, proved to be false, it would not affect the Catholic theology; for that rests upon facts-not upon a book. The two facts of the Resurrection of Christ and the foundation and continuance of the Catholic Church, are enough for all

apologetic purposes. At most, the difficulty about Inspiration is, in the Catholic Theology, but a speculative theological difficulty--a point about which the people need not trouble themselves. We think, if this view were fairly placed before the public mind, it would afford an immense relief from present anxieties. People would be relieved from that nervous dread of

advancing knowledge which at present continually haunts the religious mind. They would at once perceive that no possible advance of human knowledge can ever really affect their Faith. Facts are stubborn things: though a book may be criticised and set aside, a fact cannot. Were it once felt that the Faith really rests on facts, religious minds might be at rest. They are then entitled to say to men of science-We have facts as well as you, and they are as much entitled to be considered as any that you can bring. You are not entitled to dogmatize upon your facts without taking ours into consideration also. In effect, no principle can be accepted as truth which does not cover all the facts.

2. In the second place, if we come to a more particular consideration of Inspiration, we shall see that the Dictation theory is not that which will naturally grow out of antecedent Catholic Theology. The question may be stated thus: For what end did God inspire the men of the Bible? Did He inspire them to write a book, or did He inspire them to carry out His own high purposes with regard to themselves individually and His Church at large? In a word, has God's Spirit worked with man, in the first instance, for the creation of a Bible, or for the creation of a Church? It is only the former conception which involves and requires a Dictation theory: the latter does not imply it. But it is obvious that the former is a Calvinistic, not a Catholic conception. Nay, so far from being a Catholic conception, we confidently affirm that its admission will necessarily overthrow the Catholic Theology. We are not, indeed, entitled to argue from this, that the idea of Dictation is untrue in the Catholic Theology, for we cannot conclude from negative premisses. But, at least, it will show us that it is something foreign to it-an addition that must be made without any ground whereon it can rest. In short, if Dictation is admitted by the Catholic, it must stand to his theology in much the same relation as Sanctification does to the Calvinist.

3. In the third place, the Dictation idea seems inconsistent with the general working of God's Spirit, as conceived in the Catholic Theology. Throughout the whole of God's dealings in that system, man's native dignity and freedom are recognised. God is ever ready to help; but man must appropriate the Divine aid, and with it work out his own destiny in his own way. This is the conception of the ordinary gifts of the Spirit, by which each individual soul is saved. But a like analogy would seem to be required in the extraordinary or miraculous gifts whereby God's purposes with regard to the Church at large are accomplished. A man may indeed, like S. Peter, fall into a trance; or, like S. Paul, be caught up into the third heaven,

through the influence of the Spirit, and, for the time, both his personality and freedom may seem to be lost in the Divine; but when he returns to himself, he is a free and rational agent like other men, responsible to Almighty God for the use he makes of his opportunities. There is no constraining power laid upon him, compelling him to use them in a certain way. He may disabuse them, as we know the Prophet Balaam did, and as S. Paul has a consciousness he might have done. According to this view, it would be left to the gifted man to use his gift for the working out of God's high purposes. And as he is not necessitated in the use of his gift, so he is not necessitated in the narrative of how he used it. But the Dictation idea seems incongruous with this. It wears about it an aspect of compulsion and necessity. The inspired writers are not free and responsible men. They are reduced to the character of instruments, so to speak. Their personality and freedom are alike annihilated, and God alone speaks through them. Then, again, if the narrative is necessitated, it becomes a question whether the events narrated are not also necessitated, for they are equally needful for the instruction of mankind. In fact, pursue the Dictation idea, and we are landed in a system of necessity worse even than the Divine decrees. The reason is obvious: it places the Divine action in such a light as to interfere with the freedom of man.

On the other hand, let us now try to sketch out the view of Inspiration which, as we conceive, would naturally grow out of antecedent Catholic Theology. Previous to the coming of Christ, and the establishment of the Mystical Body, it is obvious the operations of the Spirit would have a fragmentary character. As, then, there was no Mystical Body, 'fitly framed and compacted,' through which the Spirit could work according to law, He would operate here and there on the wide field of humanity; and in these operations, He would not have before Him, in the first instance, the purpose of giving a Bible, however much the actual Bible would find its place in His Providence. His end, in the first instance, would be to educate and prepare mankind for the coming of the Son. With this view, in addition to His ordinary working, various individuals are selected, to whom are vouchsafed supernatural gifts. These gifts would be conceived as the power of working miracles, revelations of God's purposes, visions, prophecies and the like; and they would form the supernatural, the inspired, or Divine element in the Bible. On the other hand, there would be a human element, which would consist of the relation in which the individual or age felt themselves placed towards this element. Their own personality and freedom being recognised, they might derive much or little

Divine knowledge from it; it might eliminate more or less of error and imperfection from the natural knowledge of their agemore or less evil from themselves. After the gifted individual had fulfilled his mission, he would write out, for the instruction of mankind, whatever revelations or prophecies the Spirit had given through him, and a plain narrative of the supernatural events in which he had been instrumental. This narrative would not be conceived as specially dictated by the Spirit, but as a spontaneous one, in which the supernatural element would be viewed and judged of from the point of view of the individual and age.

In the Messianic Period, the difference would be, that the working of the Spirit would then be conceived as regular, and the Divine element would consequently be in such preponderance as almost to exclude the human. The possession of these supernatural gifts would not be thought of as limited to the actual writers of the New Testament. On the contrary, they would be imparted throughout the Mystical Body wherever the Spirit saw fit. Only all the actual writers will be thought of as possessing a supernatural gift. They will be not only men who live in constant communion with God, but to whom is vouchsafed special and supernatural vision. Yet their narrative is conceived as their own peculiar production. The idea of an Epistle of S. Paul, for instance, is that of a man who writes to instruct the Church, and who for this end uses whatever natural and supernatural knowledge he may be in possession of.

We should be inclined to suppose, that the view here given is that which the Bible bears on the face of it. The occasion of the Book of Revelation, for instance, is thus related by S. John: I was in the Spirit on the Lord's Day, and heard behind me a 'great voice, as of a trumpet, saying, I am Alpha and Omega, the First and the Last: and what thou seest, write in a book, and send it unto the Seven Churches which are in Asia.' The vision was vouchsafed by the Spirit-the writing of it was committed to S. John. In like manner, the preface to S. Luke's Gospel assigns, as the occasion of his writing, that it seemed good to him, having a perfect understanding of all things from the very first, to write his Gospel. This perfect understanding, as the Church believes, he would have both from natural and supernatural sources. Yet he is not conscious of any power constraining him and guiding his pen, beyond that free intellect wherewith God had gifted him. S. Paul, too, was a man possessing the Charismata of miracles, and visions, and revelations, yet he writes his epistles with the freedom and responsibility of a man. He writes as one who, on occasion, could give a direct