dependent of an act of intellect,
then I think, with our sceptical friend here, there can be no such
thing at all. For I neither know nor can conceive of any such
unreasonable exercise of the emotions or affections. If it be meant,
on the other hand, that, though some act of the intellect be indeed
uniformly involved, yet that it matters not what it is, and that
faith does not take its complexion, as of moral value, from it, then
I also think, with Harrington, that it is impossible to deny that
such a doctrine will sanctify any sort of worship, and any sort of
deity, provided men be sincere; are you prepared to contend for much?"

Mr. Fellowes put an adroit objection here. "Why," said he, "you will
not deny, surely, that even Scripture often commends, as good, a faith
which is founded on a very imperfect conception of the spiritual
realities to which it is directed?"

"It is ingeniously put, I admit. I grant that there are here, as in
so many other cases, limits which, though it may not be very easy
to assign them, as plainly exist. But that does not answer my
question. I want to know whether the principle is to be applied
without limits at all, as your speculative theory demands? In other
words, will it or not sanctify acts of the most degrading and
pernicious idolatry, of the most debasing superstition, because
allied to that state of the affections in which you make the essence
of faith consist? If it will not, then your objection to me is
nothing; it merely asks me to assign limits within which the exercise
of the affection in question may be acceptable, or almost equally
acceptable, in cases of a partially enlightened understanding. If it
will, then it leaves you open, as I conceive, and fairly open, to all
the objections which have been so brusquely urged against you by your
friend, in whose indignant protest against the detestable apologies for
the lowest forms of religious degradation, in which so many 'spiritual'
writers indulge, I for one heartily sympathize."

I ventured to add, that the account of "faith" as a state of the
emotions exclusively, given by some of his favorite writers, is
perfectly arbitrary. "Belief," say they, "is wholly intellectual: faith
is wholly moral." Now it would be of very little consequence, if the
terms be generally so understood, whether they be so used or not; men
would, in that case, suppose that faith, thus restricted, implies a
previous process of mind which is to be called