Agnosticism as a religious philosophy per se rests on an
     almost total ignoring of history and social evolution (p.
     152).

But neither per se nor per aliud has agnosticism (if I know anything about it) the least pretension to be a religious philosophy; so far from resting on ignorance of history, and that social evolution of which history is the account, it is and has been the inevitable result of the strict adherence to scientific methods by historical investigators.  Our forefathers were quite confident about the existence of Romulus and Remus, of King Arthur, and of Hengist and Horsa.  Most of us have become agnostics in regard to the reality of these worthies.  It is a matter of notoriety of which Mr. Harrison, who accuses us all so freely of ignoring history, should not be ignorant, that the critical process which has shattered the foundations of orthodox Christian doctrine owes its origin, not to the devotees of physical science, but, before all, to Richard Simon, the learned French Oratorian, just two hundred years ago.  I cannot find evidence that either Simon, or any one of the great scholars and critics of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries who have continued Simon’s work, had any particular acquaintance with physical science.  I have already pointed out that Hume was independent of it.  And certainly one of the most potent influences in the same direction, upon history in the present century, that of Grote, did not come from the physical side.  Physical science, in fact, has had nothing directly to do with the criticism of the Gospels; it is wholly incompetent to furnish demonstrative evidence that any statement made in these histories is untrue.  Indeed, modern physiology can find parallels in nature for events of apparently the most eminently supernatural kind recounted in some of those histories.

It is a comfort to hear, upon Mr. Harrison’s authority, that the laws of physical nature show no signs of becoming “less definite, less consistent, or less popular as time goes on” (p. 154).  How a law of nature is to become indefinite, or “inconsistent,” passes my poor powers of imagination.  But with universal suffrage and the coach-dog theory of premiership in full view; the theory, I mean, that the whole duty of a political chief is to look sharp for the way the social coach is driving, and then run in front and bark loud—­as if being the leading noise-maker and guiding were the same things—­it is truly satisfactory to me to know that the laws of nature are increasing in popularity.  Looking at recent developments of the policy which is said to express the great heart of the people, I have had my doubts of the fact; and my love for my fellow-countrymen has led me to reflect, with dread, on what will happen to them, if any of the laws of nature ever become so unpopular in their eyes, as to be voted down by the transcendent authority of universal suffrage.  If the legion of demons, before they set out on their journey in the swine, had had time to hold a meeting and to resolve unanimously “That the law of gravitation is oppressive and ought to be repealed,” I am afraid it would have made no sort of difference to the result, when their two thousand unwilling porters were once launched down the steep slopes of the fatal shore of Gennesaret.