In the early days of her conflict with the world, the Church, having no other weapon to use, relied on, and used faithfully, the one weapon the Holy Ghost had placed in her hand, "the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God." The temptation to the Church of the greatest city in the world, and to the bishop of that Church, to become political, was a natural temptation, and a most powerful one, and the Church and Bishop of Rome fell under it.

Let the causes, however, have been what they may, certainly the Church of Rome to a great extent, and for centuries, put the Bible out of sight. So has it been, so in a great measure it still is, with the Roman Church. In saying this we do not of course forget, still less question, the love and veneration in which individual Roman Catholics hold the Scriptures-even our English version of them. Mr. Meynell tells us of Cardinal Manning, that, "he had a great desire that his flock should love what he called the music of the English Bible,' and he published at his own cost St. John's Gospel, in a form which made it available for the pocket." But we are speaking of a system, not of individuals.

Notice, however, what the Book of Revelation says shall be the consequence to those who hinder or inflict injury upon these witnesses: "If any man will hurt them fire proceedeth out of their mouth and devoureth their enemies; and if any man will hurt them he must in this manner be killed" (xi. 5). The punishment comes naturally, of necessity, and from the witness that is injured. Printing was discovered, the Bible was translated, the knowledge of its statements was spread abroad; and the branch of the Church that had neglected and forgotten it, that had obscured its doctrines and disregarded its statements, was brought face to face with, not now a witness in her support, but an accuser, and out of the mouth of the neglected witness the fire came.

And what has been the result to the Roman Church? She has lost in great degree, we believe, her hold upon the most intelligent nations of Europe. But this has not been all. "In the great moral upheaval of the sixteenth century" many persons and classes, and bodies of men, staggered, shocked by the spectacle of Rome's unfaithfulness, rejected altogether the idea of a visible Church in the world as of Divine institution or according to the purpose of God. The theory of an invisible Church was then invented, and to this novel idea the words of the Holy Scripture were as far as possible applied. And such persons and bodies of professing Christians would find their views accurately expressed by the famous saying of Chillingworth, that "the Bible, and the Bible only, is the religion of Protestants." So, just as the Romanists put the first witness, the olive trees, the Scriptures, out of sight, these put away the second witness, the golden candlesticks, the Holy Catholic Church. But the second error is as disastrous as the first. Neither witness can be "hurt" with impunity. The Holy Catholic Church is defined by the Baptist community as an invisible body consisting of the truly elect,1 and being an invisible body, and no one knowing for certain who the truly elect, in this sense, are, it is incapacitated for its office as a witness to the world of anything at all. One does not know what, or where, it is-it has no voice to speak with, no mark by which it may be known-and so, according to the Baptists, the sole public and divinely constituted witness to God's purpose for mankind, to Christ's truth, to His Gospel is the Bible; and the only key to the meaning of Scripture is Scripture itself. Were these two, the Scriptures and the Church, permitted to stand together, hand in hand, and deliver their united testimony, how different the result must have been! As it

1 Second Baptist Confession, chap. xxvi.

is, the unhappy consequences of separating the two, and of disregarding the voice of one or other of them, is evident in the world and on every side-dispute, suspicion, contention, doubt, infidelity.

The Anglican Church seemed, after the Reformation, to be indeed a feeble shoot of the great Western Church, with little vitality, and alone in the world. But the leaders of the Church were wise and temperate men, and the nation, on the whole, calm in its judgments and fair-minded, and, in great peril, the Anglican Church was saved from the danger that lay on either hand. In her communion, by the merciful providence of God, Christ's two witnesses still stand together upon even ground, and conjointly supply what she believes to be the true rule of Faith; nay, in the words of Archbishop Bramhall, "the infallible Rule of Faith-that is, the Holy Scripture interpreted by the Catholic Church."1

CURRENT

AMERICAN

THOUGHT.

THE EVOLUTION OF CHRISTIANITY.

LYMAN ABBOT (The New World).—Evolution is defined by Professor Le Conte as "continuous progressive change according to certain laws, and by means of resident forces." Religion has been defined by an English divine as "the life of God in the soul of man." It is my object to show that the Christian religion is itself an evolution; that is, that this life of God in humanity is one of continuous progressive change, according to certain Divine laws, and by means of forces, or a force resident in humanity. All scientific men to-day are evolutionists. That is, they agree, substantially, in holding that all life proceeds, by a regular and orderly sequence, from simple to more complex forms, from lower to higher forms, and in accordance with laws which either now are, or may yet be understood; these last are, at all events, a proper subject of hopeful investigation. The truth of this doctrine I assume: I assume that all life, including the religious life, proceeds by a regular and orderly sequence from simple and lower forms to more complex and higher forms, in institutions, in thought, in practical conduct, and in spiritual experience. As all scientific men believe in evolution-the orderly development of life from lower to higher forms-so all Christians believe that there has been a manifestation of God in Jesus Christ which has produced historical Christianity. Christianity has not been a fixed and unchanging factor, but a life subject to a continuous progressive change; this change has not been lawless, irregular, and unaccountable, but according to certain laws, fixed and inviolable, though by no means well understood; and the cause of this change, or these changes, has been a force not foreign to man himself, but residing in him. Thus, Christianity, whether regarded as an institutional, an intellectual, a social, or a moral life, has exemplified the law of evolution.

The doctrine of evolution makes no attempt whatever to explain the nature or origin of life. It is concerned not with the origin, but with the phenomena of life. It sees the forces resident in the phenomena, but it throws no light on the question how they came there. Evolution traces only the processes of life. The evolutionist insists that these processes are always from the simple to the complex; from the simple nebulæ to the complicated world containing mineral substances and vegetable 1 Bramhall, "Preface to Replication," Works, p. 141.

and animal life; from the germinant mollusc through every form of animal creation up to the vertebrate mammal, including man; from the family, through the tribe, to the nation; from the paternal form of government, through the oligarchic and the aristocratic, to the democratic; from slavery to the complicated relationship of modern society between employer and employed. In this movement, notwithstanding apparent blunders, false types, and arrested developments, the evolutionist sees a steady progress from lower to higher forms of life. The Christian evolutionist, then, will expect to find modern Christianity more complex than primitive Christianity. Then, the confession, "Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God,”—now, elaborate statements of doctrine in Creeds, Confessions, and Articles; then, the simple suppertalk with the twelve friends, met in a fellowship sanctified by prayer and love,―now, an altar, jewelled vestments, pealing organ, kneeling and awe-stricken worshippers; then, meetings from house to house for prayer, Christian praise, and instruction in the simpler facts of the Master's life, and the fundamental principles of His kingdom,—now, churches, with preachers, elders, bishops, sessions, presbyteries, councils, associations, missionary boards; then, a brief prayer, breathing the common wants of universal humanity in a few simple petitions,-now, an elaborate ritual, appealing to ear and eye and imagination; then, a brotherhood in Jerusalem, with all things in common, and a board of deacons to see that all were fed,—now, a brotherly love, making its way, in spite of selfishness, towards the realization of that brotherhood of humanity which is as yet only a dream of poets. Nevertheless, he will expect to find the Christianity of the nineteenth century, despite its failures and defects, better intellectually, organically, morally, and spiritually, than the Christianity of the first century.

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The doctrine of evolution is not a doctrine of harmonious and uninterrupted progress. The most common, if not the most accurate, formula of evolution is struggle for existence, survival of the fittest." The doctrine of evolution assumes that there are forces in the world seemingly hostile to progress, that life is a perpetual battle, and progress a perpetual victory. The Christian evolutionist will then expect to find Christianity a warfare-in church, in society, in the individual. He will remember that the Divine life is resident in undivine humanity. He will not be surprised to find pagan ceremonies in the ritual, pagan superstitions in the creed, and pagan selfishness in the life. He will not even be surprised to find limitations of knowledge in Christ Himself (Mark xiii. 32), errors and partialisms in the Bible, and ignorance and superstition in the Church. For he will remember that the Divine life which is bringing all life into harmony with itself is a life resident in man, so far as is possible in a human life, God interpreted in the terms of a finite human experience. He will remember that the Bible does not claim to be the absolute Word of God; that, on the contrary, it declares that the Word of God was with God and was God, and existed before the world was; that it claims to be the Word of God, as perceived and understood by holy men of old, the Word as spoken to men, and understood and interpreted by men, who saw it in part as we still see it. He will remember that Christianity is not the absolute Divine, but the Divine in humanity, the Divine force resident in man, and transforming man into the likeness of the Divine. Christianity is the light struggling with the darkness, life battling with death, the spiritual overcoming the animal. The end is not yet. We judge Christianity as the scientist judges the embryo, as the gardener the bud, as the teacher the pupil, not by what it is, but by what it promises to be when the struggle is over, and the victory is won, and the fittest is presented, perfect and complete, the sole survivor.

The doctrine of evolution is not inconsistent with the existence of types of arrested development or deterioration and decay. The progress is continuous, but

not unbroken. Nature halts. She shows specimens of unfinished work. Evolution is not all onward and upward. There are incomplete types, stereotyped, and left unchanged and unchanging; there are no movements, lateral movements, downward movements; there is inertia, death, decay. The Christian evolutionist is not, then, surprised to find all these phenomena in the evolution of Christianity. His finding them there does not shake his faith in the Divine life which struggles toward victory against obstacles, and sometimes seems to suffer defeat. He expects to find faith hardened at certain epochs into cast-iron creeds; thought arrested in its development, men struggling to prevent all growth, imagining that death is life and life is death, that evolution is dangerous, and that arrested development alone is safe. He expects to find pagan superstitions sometimes triumphing over Christian faith, even in Church creeds; pagan ceremonies sometimes masquerading in Christian robes, even in Church services, and pagan selfishness poisoning the life blood of Christian love, even in communities which think themselves wholly Christian.

The most casual glance at the Bible discloses the fact that from its opening to its closing utterance it is the record of progress, a call to progress, an inspiration to progress. Its face is always set towards the future. Abraham is led out of the land of his idolatry by a promise to be fulfilled, not in his time, but in the day of his children's children. Israel is summoned out of Egypt by the expectation of a future prosperity, for which his past and his present give no warrant. The Tabernacle in the Wilderness is a preparation for a Temple in the Holy Land. The Temple is destroyed, in its place seventy years of exile give to the Jewish people the Synagogue and the Holy Scriptures. From Genesis to Malachi the faces of patriarch, prophet, and priest are turned to the future: the religion of Judaism is a religion of expectancy; the hope and faith of Israel are fixed upon a Coming One. Three or four centuries pass by. The new dispensation opens with a prophecy and a promise. Its first word turns all thought to the future: "Prepare ye the way of the Lord," is the burden of the Baptist's message. Jesus takes up the cry. His preaching is also a summons to hope and expectancy: "The Kingdom of God is at hand." The people dwell in their past; He summons them continually to the future. They are content with Moses and the Prophets; He not only proclaims another and a better law, but He also declares in unmistakable terms His relation to the old: it is unfinished, He comes to complete; it is undeveloped, He comes to ripen. The process will be gradual, the consummation requires time. His kingdom is not a completed kingdom, it is the seed cast into the ground; it is a wheat field growing up for a future harvest. He foretells the destruction of Jerusalem, and bids His disciples anticipate a redemption to be perfected, and a Redeemer yet to come. He meets them in the upper chamber: He repeats the message in tenderer words; He has many things to say to them which now they are not able to bear. They must wait for the best, it lies in the future. As He ascends out of their sight the angelic word to them is that they must look for His reappearing, and through patience, hope, and a blessed activity prepare for it. That which inspires the Apostles, as they take up their work, is not the memory of a great past, but the hope of a great future. They are as those that seek a country. They are strangers and pilgrims, and their haven lies before them. They forget the things that are behind: they press forward for their prize. They look for a new heaven and a new earth in which dwelleth righteousness. And when at last the canon closes, the last great vision which greets our eyes is not a completed city, but a city still descending out of heaven upon the earth; not a completed victory, but a Captain riding forth conquering and to conquer; not a kingdom accomplished, but an hour yet to come when the kingdoms of this earth shall have become the kingdom of our Lord and of His Christ.

The whole notion of revealed religion consisting in a revelation made once for all, and therefore forbidding progress, or confining it within very narrow limits—to the criticism and examination of a Book, or a restatement of what the Book says, but in slightly different forms of speech-grows out of a singular misapprehension of the nature of Revelation. Revelation is unveiling; but the veil is over the mind of the pupil, not over the face of the truth. This veil is removed, and can only be removed gradually, as the mind itself acquires a capacity to perceive and receive truth before incomprehensible.

The Bible is not so much a revelation as a means of revelation. It is a revelation, because beyond all other books it stimulates the moral and spiritual nature, stirs men to think and feel, awakens their life, and so develops in them a capacity to perceive or receive the truths of the moral and spiritual order. God is not veiled, but man is blind, and the Bible opens the eyes of the blind. The Church has often endeavoured to crystallize truth into a formal and final state. For a creed is truth crystallized. But a crystal is a dead thing, and truth is living. It is not a crystal, it is a seed. It is to be planted, and what comes from the planting will depend as much on the soil in which it is planted as on the seed itself.

The belief, then, that the Christian religion is a Divine life is not inconsistent with the belief that it is an evolution; for evolution offers no explanation of the nature or origin of life; it only explains life's process. The belief that the Bible is a revelation from God is not inconsistent with the belief that the Christian religion is an evolution; for revelation is not a final statement of truth crystallized into dogma, but a gradual and progressive unveiling of the mind that it may see truth clearly and receive it vitally. The Bible is not fossilized truth in an amber book: it is a seed which vitalizes the soil into which it is cast, a window through which the light of dawning day enters the quickened mind, a voice commanding humanity to look forward and to go forward, a prophet who bids men seek their golden age in the future, not in the past.

GENUINENESS OF ISAIAH XL.-LXVI. By Rev. W. H. GREEN, D.D. (The Presbyterian and Reformed Review).—The critical question is here forced upon us as to the authorship of these chapters, and it is to the discussion of this question that the present paper will be devoted. Are these chapters the genuine production of Isaiah, or are they the work of some writer of a later age, a prophet of the Exile, the so-called deutero-Isaiah, or, as Ewald denominates him, The Great Unnamed?

Before entering upon this discussion it is important that we should have a clear understanding of the precise point at issue. It is distinctly confessed at the outset that these chapters contain explicit reference to events which took place long after the time of Isaiah, and of which he could have had no knowledge by any natural means. We have no argument at present with those who deny the possibility or the reality of supernatural foresight. This prophecy makes undoubted mention of the Exile and Cyrus and of the release of the captive Jews. And if this excludes the possibility of Isaiah being the author, and makes it certain that the prophecy could not have been written until the Exile had taken place and Cyrus had appeared, and the hope had arisen in the minds of the captive Jews that this portended their release, the case is beyond argument. But if the existence of supernatural predictions of remote events in the future is an open question to be settled by the facts and the evidence, and not to be negatived by mere dogmatic presuppositions, then we think that it can be shown to the satisfaction of any candid mind that there

NO. VI.-VOL. I.- -THE THINKER.

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