I have now to complain of something still worse than that the Bishop should have forgotten his Bible, entirely ignored the Thirty-nine Articles, and occasionally in the hurry of rapid speech contradicted his previous sentences. All these are matters at which in even an extraordinary man burdened with a bishop’s dignity, we need not wonder at all; but when we find him blundering in metaphysics, when we find him making mistakes which a man versed in the merest student’s rudiments of Mill or the Scotch and German metaphysicians, would not make, when we find the Bishop so blundering, either wilfully or ignorantly, it puts me in a position of extreme difficulty. He distinguished between the Sceptic and the Christian, and said the Christian had a faith in something underlying all phenomena. The Christian’s faith is nothing of the kind. I will explain my position, and then that of the Christian. The position of the Naturist is that there is only one existence. I can only know that existence as conditioned, as phenomenal. What we call “things” are modes or conditions of existence, known or distinguished from other conditions by various characteristics or qualities; we only know substance or existence as conditioned. We only know the phenomenal or the conditioned. We affirm one existence, and that all we know is condition of that one existence. But that is not the Christian’s position. The Christian says there are two existences, the one what he calls the material universe, and the other the Deity, distinct and differing in essence, who is the creator of that universe out of nothing, and who can be the destroyer of it. When the Bishop tried to make these two opinions into one, he either did not know what he was talking about, or he supposed that the people to whom he was talking had not the time to study. The Bishop defined faith as trust or assent, and he declared that not only in religion but in all other matters we have faith. He said, for example, and his illustration appeared to me most unfortunately chosen, that we trusted in our wives, and children, and friends, that it was possible that our wives might all the time be unfaithful, our children unloving, and our friends treacherous. These are not the words, but they give the exact sense of the words. Now I will explain the difference between religious faith and the ordinary faith. Our ordinary faith in one another in every-day life is a confidence founded upon our own experience and the experience of others; and it is because we find the unfaithful wives are the fewest in number, and the treacherous friends the fewest in number, that we trust in our wives and our friends. But religious faith is something entirely different, it is not only not founded on experience, but it contradicts experience. Religious belief is the prostration of the intellect; ordinary every-day trust is the result of the exercise of the intellect. The Bishop spoke of morality.