any other portion of the writings of this Father, which denotes a rule of faith looking unsteadily from Scripture to tradition, and adapting that which is found expressly written, to those additional doctrines, which have floated down from age to age through the channel of catechetical teaching.

In the commencement of these observations I have already referred to the sentiments of Irenæus, the contemporary of Justin, on this same subject. And thus, then, through this scanty series of writers, we descend through more than the first 150 years from the close of our Lord's ministry. Now during this long period, I repeat, we have every reason for believing that the doctrine of tradition being concurrent in authority with Scripture, or obligatory on the conscience, (in any degree beyond that in which the established usages of any set of good men must necessarily come with a certain recommendation in their favour to other well-disposed persons,) had never for a moment suggested itself to mankind. And yet most assuredly, if tradition has any claim to

the sacred character which some modern writers would attach to it, it must have been during this very interval, that its accuracy must have been tested by the sifting of evidence, and the doctrines involved in it recorded in some distinct and palpable form, for the benefit of future ages. If tradition mean any thing as a rule of faith, it must of course mean apostolical tradition. The opinions of the writers of the third or fourth centuries, unless they can be traced upwards through the earlier channel of Church history, necessarily carry with them no more weight of authority than might be claimed just as confidently in support of his own peculiar views by any theological speculatist of the present day. I am not indeed prepared to say, that, although during this early period the authority of tradition had never been theoretically acknowledged, its practical influence had not in some degree begun already to make itself felt. This is, however, only what was to have been expected from the admitted circumstances of human nature. Man is so

necessarily an imitator of his fellow man, that it is impossible for any set of human beings to associate much with one another, without gradually adopting the various shades of each other's opinions. In no case is this more certain to occur than in that of religion. All men look anxiously and tremblingly towards the unknown world; all have their various private speculations as to the best mode of pleasing God and averting his just judgments. The more delicate and susceptible the conscience, the more operative of course are these feelings, and the more likely to break out into eccentric modes of action. The only really efficient check to the discursive and fanciful schemes of righteousness which these natural sentiments suggest, is the possession of that very blessing which we believe that Divine Providence has in its mercy afforded to us, namely, a written and inspired rule of faith, in which all that we are called upon to do, all which our Maker really requires of us, is specially and expressly recorded. But even this barrier will not always be effectual against

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the timid suggestions of our own anxious and scrupulous view of divine things. It is no easy matter for erring and sinful man to persuade himself that he has so merciful a Creator and Judge as revelation declares the Almighty to be. "Let me fall into the hands. of God, and not into the hands of man," were the words of David, when he had to choose between the alternative of punishment set before him. And the conclusion was a just one. But not so reasons the world at large. A wounded conscience is naturally timid. Men accordingly invest God with human feelings and passions, and will not be persuaded that sacrifices which He has himself declared that he does not require, are not indispensable portions of their duty and service towards Him.

I have made these observations merely for the purpose of remarking, that although during that early period of the Church, to which I have thus far alluded, Scripture, and Scripture only, was the openly acknowledged rule of faith, still we are not to be surprised if we find during the same period the prac

tice of the early Christians gradually and imperceptibly gliding into sentiments and usages not strictly in accordance with what they found written, and thus unsuspectingly setting the first example, which subsequent generations so fearfully enlarged upon, of setting up the commandments of men in rivalry to the revelations of God. The evil to which I allude, was, indeed, during the two first centuries of the Christian era, comparatively slight; yet from the moment that the book of revelation closed, or rather before it closed, the first symptoms of the darkening of the theological atmosphere may be faintly traced, which, as time advanced, gradually thickened into the deepest night. But on these points, I shall have occasion to dilate more at large in a later portion of these remarks.

Before I proceed further, let me make a few observations on what I have always conceived to be the great leading principle of Protestantism; namely, "the entire sufficiency of Scripture, independently of tradition, as a rule of faith and doctrine."