belief to the guidance of our life, in harmony with personal obligation and responsibility.

2. Philosophy thus becomes the vindicator and upholder of reverential and submissive acknowledgment of the Absolute Being, affording in itself a rational basis of religious homage. Such was recognised as the result of philosophic thought by the best spirits which preceded the Christian era, as in the case of Socrates, Apologia, and of Plato, Republic, Book VI. And since the dawn of that era, the Christian system has shed its grand light over the darkest mysteries of philosophic thought, and opened for Philosophy itself new courses of inquiry, culminating in a fuller devotion. So Hume, whose thought at many points seems antagonistic to this admission, says, 'There is only one occasion when philosophy will think it necessary and even honourable to justify herself, and that is, when religion may seem to be in the least offended; whose rights are as dear to her as her own, and are indeed the same.'-Treat. on Hum. Nat. Book 1. sec. 5, vol. i. p. 435.

3. As the existence of the Deity is the transcendent fact of philosophy, the rational homage offered to Him is the highest exercise of mind. In such exercise, intellect is occupied with the highest conceptions which it can reach, and our sensibility proves competent for companionship with thought, as it goes forth on its most exalted range. The unity of both sides of our nature in this exercise is the loftiest and surest indication of the possibility of attainment far beyond everything that has yet come within the limits of consciousness.

4. In accordance with the conclusion thus reached, religion becomes the loftiest element of individual, family, and social culture, as it is the obvious duty of every intelligence contemplating God as the source of finite existence and of all forms of good with which restricted being is blessed.-See Chapters on Worship, in Maurice's Social Morality.

5. In the application of Moral Law, there is provision for the development of a life of purity; of consistent activity,

seeking the attainment of those ends which our powers are fitted to secure; and of generous regard for others, making us their helpers in well-doing. But our highest greatness appears in the appreciation of Absolute Greatness, and dedication of all our energies to the fulfilment of the will of Him who has bestowed upon us a moral nature. The religious life and the moral are thus essentially related. For, we yield a true and full homage to the Author of our being, not when we observe forms of worship merely, but when we use our whole nature aright, realizing Moral Law in action, because it has been vitalized in personal character.

APPENDIX.

A.-CAN CONSCIENCE BE EDUCATED?

THERE is no part of this text-book which has more uniformly met with adverse criticism from those who give a general assent to its theory, than the position that Conscience cannot be educated (p. 81). Adverse criticism was inevitable, for the position here maintained is opposed to current popular forms of teaching. Besides, the criticism must have some plausibility, for there is undoubtedly a measure of truth underlying the popular declaration that Conscience needs to be educated. But, if we consider what is really intended by those who make the assertion, and understood by those who assent to it, the criticism founded upon it loses greatly in force. If it be meant that all need to be instructed in matters of duty, there is no one who will dispute the position. But this does not affect the assertion in the text. If more than this be meant, the statement is open to question.

Without being minute, it is obvious that if 'we labour to enlighten and instruct our Conscience,' we regard it as deficient in guiding power and authority. If so, it is impos sible to speak of the supremacy of our Conscience. Butler's most important position is lost. This results from a tacit

acceptance of popular and unscientific phraseology as a basis for scientific deduction. The phraseology is equivocal, and the deduction unwarranted.

The position that Conscience cannot be educated is so far from being assumed from want of due consideration, that it is essential to the theory here maintained. That Conscience intuitively recognises moral law; that it is supreme in its authority; and that it cannot be educated,-are three propositions which hang or fall together. The philosophic accuracy of all the three seems to me established on the fullest evidence. No criticism of the proposition that Conscience cannot be educated, which has come under my notice, shews a full appreciation of the interdependence of these three propositions. That of Professor Birks of Cambridge may be taken as an illustration. He says:-'No doubt, if we begin by confining the name of Conscience to the sound and healthy conclusions of the mind on moral questions, to its clear and distinct vision of spiritual truth, or its perfect insight into the course of practical duty, then all need of training is excluded by the definition. But the definition will then degenerate into a barren truism. The mind needs no training to judge rightly, wherever right judgment is already attained. It needs no increase of light where it already sees clearly. But this is neither the popular nor yet the scientific meaning of the word. We certainly do not mean by conscientious convictions those which are infallibly right, but simply those which are honestly entertained. A person follows his conscience when he does what he sincerely thinks to be his duty, though he may have mistaken his duty, and acted on a wrong judgment.'-First Principles of Moral Science, p. 253.

In order to understand the position that Conscience cannot be educated, it is needful to distinguish between judgments. on moral questions and intuitive perceptions of moral law. This distinction has been insisted upon above, pp. 23-43. The criticism by Professor Birks overlooks this. Moral judg

ments, conscientious convictions, and conscientious feelings, are all exercises of mind quite distinct from intuitions. We must get behind judgments, convictions, and feelings; we must get deeper into our nature, and discover a prior and simpler exercise. Neither judgments, nor convictions, nor feelings can properly be called intuitions. We must find a power fulfilling a special function. We must shew that the reason for marking off a certain number of our judgments, convictions, and feelings as 'conscientious,' is their relation to this higher power. This we must do if we are to reach scientific exactness, and place Intuitionalism on a legitimate basis, with a claim to self-consistency. If careful analysis discover that we possess a knowledge of moral law, simply and in itself,-such as a law of truthfulness, or of benevolence, or of justice, this is the underlying test of all our thoughts and feelings on moral subjects. Whether there is really such a power is a fair subject for discussion. But, if an intuitive cognitive power be granted, it seems impossible to deny that education is incompatible with its nature. In this way the criticism just quoted misses its mark. 'Sound and healthy conclusions' of the mind on moral questions are not to be referred to an intuitive power, any more than unsound and unhealthy conclusions could be so assigned. Conclusions, whether well or ill founded, are products of the reasoning power. Their nature precludes us from referring them to an intuitive faculty. Such a reference would be self-contradictory. Had I attributed all correct conclusions to Conscience, and all incorrect conclusions to some other power, it would certainly have been a 'barren truism' to have said that Conscience could not be educated. It would have been an unseemly play upon words. But it is something quite different from this which I have asserted, and much more in harmony with an intuitional theory. In saying that Conscience cannot be educated, I have only said that Intuition is and must be independent of training. The unfortunate philosophic results

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