"I am perfectly convinced," said Harrington, "that the modern spiritualist will not bring his 'faith' into any ignominious slavery to intellect or syllogism. But clear up my doubts if you can. I know that the writers you are fond of quoting very generally give an illustration of the nature of faith by pointing to the ingenuous trust of a child in the wisdom and kindness of a parent." "They do; and is it not a beautiful illustration? That is genuine faith indeed!" "I am willing to take the illustration. The child has faith, we see, in his father's superior wisdom and experienced kindness." "Yes." "He believes them, therefore." "Certainly." "But belief is reason." "Certainly; but faith is more than that." "No doubt; but he does believe these things." "Yes, certainly." "And if he did not believe them, he would cease to have faith. If, for instance, he be convinced that his father is mad, or cruel, or unjust, the state of affections which you call faith will diminish, and at last cease." "Perhaps so," said Fellowes. "Perhaps so, my friend! I really cannot receive your answer, because I am convinced that it does not express your sentiments." "Well, I believe that the state of affection which call 'faith' would be impossible under such circumstances." "But belief is reason." "Yes." "Must we not say, then, that the child's faith depends on the condition of his belief, that is, on his reason, so that the 'faith' is possible when he believes and so long as he believes, that his father is wise and kind, but is impossible when he believes, and as soon as he believes, the contrary?" "Yes, I admit that." "It appears, then, that faith in this,--perhaps the best illustration that could be selected,--so far from being a state of the affections exclusive of the intellect, is not exclusive of it, but absolutely dependent on it, inasmuch as it is absolutely dependent on belief, and that is dependent on reason. It exists in connection with it, and is never independent of it. If the contrary be affirmed, I doubt whether there can be any such thing as 'faith' in the world. Belief becomes reason, and faith, having nothing, you say, to do with the intellect, becomes impossible. But now let it be supposed (as, indeed, I cannot but suppose) that some belief, that is, reason, enlightened or not (generally the last), is involved in every act of faith; you yet affirm most distinctly that it is a state of the affections quite unconnected with the truth or falsehood of any intellectual propositions." "I do." "It ought to follow, then, that it matters not what is the object of belief, provided there is 'faith'; and this, if you observe: is very much what the language of Mr. Newman would imply, while it is the very essence of Mr. Parker's teaching." "You mean Father Newman, perhaps?"