THE idea of authority in matters of theological opinion has been rendered familiar to us by the chronic controversy between the Church of Rome and the Protestant Churches, as to the mode in which dogmatic truth may be attained.2 The Roman theologians assert that the decisions of an ecumenical council, or of a pope when speaking ex cathedra, are to be received with unquestioning assent. It is not necessary, they say, that individuals should recognize the validity, or indeed understand the nature, of the reasoning by which such decisions may be defended, since the ground on which they are to be accepted does not consist in any preponderance of arguments in their favour, but in the fact of their having been promulgated by an infallible organ of dogmatic truth. Protestant divines, on the contrary, encourage the individual to reject unhesitatingly all such decisions, whether of popes or councils, as appear to his own reason and conscience, after due examination and inquiry, to be no part of Divine revelation.

We have here the principle of authority sharply distinguished from that of private judgment. The Roman controversialist claims for the former, the Protestant for the latter, a preponderating influence on religious thought. It is, perhaps, the seeming antagonism into which the two principles have been thus forced in the field of theology that has attracted almost exclusive attention to their appearance on this battle-ground of successive generations; there centres round them, when thus seen, something of the joy of conflict which gives a keener interest to

1 Read before the Cambridge Reform Club, on February 5th, 1873.

I am indebted to Sir G. Cornewall Lewis' work on "The Influence of Authority in Matters of Opinion" for the principles laid down in the following paper. The exposition and application of those principles are in the main my own.

any question about which we witness an obstinate struggle between able and well-matched antagonists. A very little consideration will, however, suffice to show that authority and private judg ment also play their parts, directly or indirectly, in moulding our opinions, and through them our actions, in the great domain of matters non-theological.

The exigencies of common life are constantly placing us in positions where, of two or more alternative modes of action, we must adopt one. A boy is to be educated-what school shall he be sent to? An action at law to be commenced-what counsel shall be retained? A vacant post to be filled up which of the candidates shall be selected?

The answer to be given to each of these questions involves the previous formation of an opinion on the subject with which it deals. The school is fixed upon because the boy's father thinks it the best he can afford; the counsel engaged because the solicitor in the case holds him to be eminently fitted to conduct it; the candidate appointed because the patron conceives him to be better qualified than his competitors. But though the formation of an opinion is unavoidable, the opinion itself may be arrived at in two extremely different ways. Let us suppose the boy's father, in the first of our three illustrations, to be a highly-educated man, well acquainted with the details of school management. Before coming to a decision he visits a number of schools, and at each questions the master, looks over the house, hears lessons given, overhauls the class-books, and talks with the boys in the playground. He then compares the advantages and defects of the several schools, and selects that which appears to him best suited to his son's powers and the length of his own purse. This is an opinion formed by private judgment.

Next let the father have enjoyed no

unusual advantages of education, and know nothing about schools. His course is now much more expeditious. He goes to some one whom he believes to be well informed in matters of education, and on whose judgment and integrity he can rely, and asks him to recommend a suitable school. If he at once makes up his mind that the school thus recommended to him is the one he wants, his opinion is formed entirely on authority. It is probable, however, that if not he, at any rate his wife, will contribute a little element of private judgment to the decision by ascertaining, by personal inspection, that the sheets are clean and the beef abundant.

A passing glance at the multifarious matters on which a man is thus compelled to come to some kind of conclusion, will suffice to convince us that in the great majority of cases he cannot possess the knowledge of detail requisite for forming a really independent opinion. A man may be a guardian of the poor, a trustee of a school, a member of a hospital-board, a common council man, a member of Parliament. How is it possible that he can go for himself into all the economical, social, sanitary, educational, medical, legal, constitutional, and many more kinds of questions which come before him in these capacities, on which, nevertheless, he is constantly called upon to form, and sometimes to express, an opinion? Nothing is more certain than that in nine cases out of ten he must take the opinions of other men on trust, i.e. adopt the principle of authority. The extent to which he will have to do this is probably far greater than those who have never examined the subject are at all aware of.

Let us first see how the case stands with the sciences, from whose domain the principle of authority is commonly supposed to have long been peremptorily banished.

An independent cultivator of any one science does not generally possess a first-hand acquaintance with any other. If for any purpose he requires to make use of facts belonging to a field not his own, he consults the best book on the

subject within his reach, and, without troubling himself with trains of preliminary reasoning, takes for granted whatever statements appear to him to bear on the subject he has in hand. There is here no independent inquiry whatever, but unconditional submission to the principle of authority. Even within the area of a single science, the jurisdiction of the same principle is extensive. Mathematics, for instance, has of late grown so enormously as to make it impossible for anyone not endowed with very exceptional powers of application, and a voracious and insatiable intellectual appetite, to acquire anything like an independent knowledge of the present condition of that subject in all its different branches. The most distinguished mathematicians would be the first to disclaim such complete knowledge themselves, and to dissuade others from the extravagant and comparatively useless attempt to acquire it. acquire it. Each seeks to extend his independent knowledge of his own. special branch of the subject, but, beyond its limits, adopts unhesitatingly, and without previous examination, the results obtained by other investigators.

Let us now pass beyond the boundaries of the so-called "exact" sciences, into subjects such as history, and think for a moment what an amount of time and labour is involved in investigating a single question,-say the character of a particular sovereign. The searching for lost or undiscovered records, collating, deciphering, and interpreting of old manuscripts, sifting of evidence, marshalling of ascertained facts, are processes requiring enormous patience and systematic application, and making unlimited demands on the time of the inquirer. To go thoroughly into a few such questions is work for a lifetime.

The considerations which have been adduced lead to the conclusion that the further the domain of human knowledge is extended, and the more thoroughly it is cultivated, the smaller will the portion of it become with which any one man can possess a thoroughly independent acquaintance.