This usage is recalled to me by the contrast between the compliment with which Mr. Harrison begins his article, "The Ghost of Religion," and the efforts he afterward makes to destroy, in the brilliant style habitual with him, all but the negative part of that which he applauds. After speaking with too-flattering eulogy of the mode in which I have dealt with current theological doctrines, he does his best, amid the flashes of wit coming from its polished surface, to pass the sword of his logic through the ribs of my argument, and let out its vital principle—that element in it which is derived from the religious ideas and sentiments that have grown up along with human evolution, but which is inconsistent with the creed Mr. Harrison preaches.
So misleading was the professed agreement with which he commenced his article, that, as I read on, I was some time in awakening to the fact that I had before me not a friend, but, controversially speaking, a determined enemy, who was seeking to reduce, as he would say to a ghostly form, that surviving element of religion which, as I had contended, Agnosticism contains. Even when this dawned on me, the suavity of Mr. Harrison's first manner continued so influential that I entertained no thought of defending myself. It was only after perceiving that what he modestly calls "a rider" was described by one journal as "a criticism keen, trenchant, destructive," while by some other journals kindred estimates of it were formed, that I decided to make a reply as soon as pending engagements allowed.
Recognizing, then, the substance of Mr. Harrison's article as being an unsparing assault on the essential part of that doctrine which I have set forth, I shall here not scruple to defend it in the most effective way I can: not allowing the laudation with which Mr. Harrison prefaces his ridicule, to negative such rejoinders, incisive as I can make them, as will best serve my purpose.
A critic who, in a recent number of the "Edinburgh Review," tells the world in very plain language what he thinks about a book of mine, and who has been taken to task by the editor of "Knowledge" for his injustice, refers to Mr. Harrison (whom he describes in felicitous phrase as looking at me from "a very opposite pole") as being, on one
only in its last section have I been able (without undue interruption of my argument) to refer to points in Sir James Stephen's criticism. Concerning his criticism generally, I may remark that it shows me how dangerous it is to present separately, in brief space, conclusions which it has taken a large space to justify. Unhappily, twelve pages do not suffice for adequate exposition of a philosophical system, or even of its bases; and misapprehension is pretty certain to occur if a statement contained in twelve pages is regarded as more than a rude outline. If Sir James Stephen will refer to §§ 49-207 of the "Principles of Sociology," occupying 350 pages, I fancy that instead of seeming to him "weak," the evidence there given of the origin of religious ideas will seem to him very strong; and I venture also to think that if he will refer to "First Principles," §§ 24-26, § 50, §§ 58-61, § 194, and to the "Principles of Psychology," §§ 347-351, he may find that what he thinks "an unmeaning playing with words" has more meaning than appears at first sight.
