than the tone actually adopted; that the scrupulous deposition of technical proof would have been finessing too much, and would have been the strongest proof of collusion.  The very tone objected to, he said, supposing there were no miracles, is one of the most striking proofs of the astonishing sagacity of these men; for it is just the tone they would have used if there had been.  So differently may men reason from the same data!  Whether (he concluded) Mr. Newman’s view of the facts, or his, was founded on a deeper and more comprehensive knowledge of human nature, he must leave to my judgment.”

“I protest,” said I, “I think the orthodox had the best of it.  But what struck you next as unaccountable in Mr. Newman’s view of this subject of a future life?”

“I confess, then, that the reasoning by which he endeavors to show that, even admitting the fact of Christ’s resurrection, there could be nothing in it to warrant the expectation of the resurrection of any other human beings, simply because he must have differed so stupendously from all the rest of mankind, appears to me very damaging to us.  Of what use is it, to argue upon such an hypothesis?”

“Of none in the world, certainly,” said I, laughing.

“Surely not,” he replied; “for if Christ’s resurrection be admitted, we know very well it will carry with it, in the estimation of the bulk of mankind, all the other great facts implicated with the Christian system.  They will concede, at once, the supernatural character, the divine origin, of the New Testament.  I suppose them scarcely ever was a man who admitted these premises who would trouble himself to contest the conclusion.”

“But seriously,” continued this half-repentant admirer, almost frightened at the extent of his own freedom of thought, “though I cannot say I am satisfied with Mr. Newman’s notions on this subject, —­and, in fact, cannot make up my mind upon it,—­can there be any thing morally more sublime than the view, that the doctrine of immortality, which has been superficially supposed, if not necessary, yet so conducive to sincere and elevated piety, may be readily dispensed with, as no way necessary (as Mr. Newman feels) for the spiritual nourishment of the soul?  ‘Confidence,’ he says, ’there is none; and hopeful aspiration is the soul’s highest state.  But, then, there is herein nothing what ever to distress her; no cloud of grief crosses the area of her vision, as she gazes upwards.’  He even intimates that, from the stress laid upon immortality by ’modern divines,’ they might seem to be ‘incarnations of selfishness.’  He says it tends to ’degrade religion into a prudential regard for our interests after death’; that ’conscience, the love of virtue, for its own sake, and much more the love of God, are ignored.’  Many of the ‘spiritual’ school agree with him in this; and some even affirm that the hope of immortal felicity is but a bribe to selfishness.  Can any thing be more elevated or original than this view?”