{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_40387/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_40387","id":"gutenberg_40387","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/40387","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Essays, Letters & Speeches","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Christianity","Church history -- 19th century"],"text":"STUDIES OF CHRISTIANITY:\n\nOR,\n\nTIMELY THOUGHTS FOR RELIGIOUS\nTHINKERS.\n\nA SERIES OF PAPERS,\nBY\nJAMES MARTINEAU.\n\nEDITED BY\nWILLIAM R. ALGER.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nBOSTON:\nAMERICAN UNITARIAN ASSOCIATION,\n21 BROMFIELD STREET.\n1858.\n\n\n\nCAMBRIDGE:\n\nELECTROTYPED AND PRINTED BY METCALF AND COMPANY.\n\nCONTENTS.\n                                                           PAGE\n\n  INTRODUCTORY THOUGHTS, FROM MR. MARTINEAU'S WRITINGS        v\n\n  DISTINCTIVE TYPES OF CHRISTIANITY                           1\n\n  CHRISTIANITY WITHOUT PRIEST AND WITHOUT RITUAL             35\n\n  INCONSISTENCY OF THE SCHEME OF VICARIOUS REDEMPTION        83\n\n  MEDIATORIAL RELIGION                                      147\n\n  FIVE POINTS OF CHRISTIAN FAITH                            177\n\n  CREED AND HERESIES OF EARLY CHRISTIANITY                  201\n\n  THE CREED OF CHRISTENDOM                                  266\n\n  THE ETHICS OF CHRISTENDOM                                 299\n\n  THE RESTORATION OF BELIEF                                 356\n\n  ONE GOSPEL IN MANY DIALECTS                               399\n\n  ST. PAUL AND HIS MODERN STUDENTS                          414\n\n  SIN: WHAT IT IS, WHAT IT IS NOT                           466\n\n  THE DUTIES OF CHRISTIANS IN AN AGE OF CONTROVERSY         478\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTORY THOUGHTS,\n\nFROM\n\nMR. MARTINEAU'S WRITINGS.\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION.\n\n\nThe American Unitarian Association in 1835 reprinted from the English\nedition, among their Tracts, a Sermon on \"The Existing State of Theology\nas an Intellectual Pursuit and of Religion, as a Moral Influence.\" Its\nrare merits elicited great praise. Its author was the Rev. James\nMartineau, then a settled minister in Liverpool. Since that time, his\noccasional publications from year to year have been winning a wider\naudience, and awakening a deeper admiration. The history of his mind has\nbeen a broadening track of light. And now the Association feel that they\ncannot do a greater favor to the reading public, or better aid that\ncause of Liberal Christianity whose servants they are, than by printing\na collection of the later writings of this gifted man, whom they first\nintroduced to American Unitarians a quarter of a century ago.\n\nThe list of works prefixed to the article here entitled \"Distinctive\nTypes of Christianity,\" as it appeared in the Westminster Review, and\nthe opening sentence referring to them, have been accidentally omitted.\nTwo or three of the papers belong to the author's earlier years, but are\ninserted here equally on account of their eminent ability, their\nspecial timeliness, and their striking adaptation to the general purpose\nof the work; namely, to throw light on the true nature of Christianity.\nThey will also be new to most of those whom they now reach. The last\npaper in the volume is one of the first its writer published, in his\ncomparative youth. We shall be disappointed if the benignant wisdom and\nmoral fidelity of its catholic lessons do not secure a sympathetic\nresponse in many a quarter once closed against such appeals.\n\nIn selecting from Mr. Martineau's numerous invaluable articles, not\nalready published in book-form, the contents of the present work, the\nrule has not been so much to choose the ablest productions, as to take\nthose best fitted to meet the wants of the time, by diffusing among\nministers, students of divinity, and the cultivated laity a knowledge\nof the most advanced theological and religious thought yet attained.\nWe regret that the necessary limits of the volume exclude several of\nthe author's most instructive and inspiring essays; particularly the\nmagnificent one in the National Review upon \"Newman, Coleridge, and\nCarlyle\"; also the one upon \"Lessing as a Theologian.\"\n\nWe have called this volume \"Studies of Christianity,\" simply as a\nconvenient indication of the general character of its contents. In\njustice to the author, it should be borne in mind that the separate\npapers were prepared to meet various occasions, without a suspicion that\nthey would ever be brought together to form a book. Of course they do\nnot express his complete views of the mighty subject which they\nfragmentarily treat. The relative order and rank of his convictions, the\ninterpretation of Christianity from its inner side, appear much better\nin his \"Endeavors after the Christian Life,\"--by far the richest and\nnoblest series of sermons in the English language. Still, a kind of\nunity pervades the different pieces composing this collection. One\nChrist-like strain of sentiment breathes through them all. The same\nconsecrating fealty to truth presides over them all. The same grand\noutline of principles and unvarying standard of judgment are constantly\nevident. The same marvellous acumen, breadth of learning, and exquisite\nculture, everywhere appear. Each article is more or less directly an\nillustration of Christianity, as something moral, spiritual, vital,\ndynamic, to be practically assimilated by the soul, in distinction from\nthe common exposition of it, as something sacerdotal, dogmatic, formal,\nforensic, once enacted and now to be mimetically observed. The energetic\npatience of labor, the detersive intellect, the unalloyed devoutness of\nspirit, the telescopic range both of faculty and equipment, revealed\neven in these wayside products, awaken in us an unappeasable desire for\na more purposed and systematic work from the same mind, now in its\nfullest maturity. In the mean time we will express our grateful\nappreciation of the contributions already furnished, by giving them\nfurther circulation, assured that no truly pious and intelligent person,\nfree from bigotry and shackles, can peruse them without receiving equal\nmeasures of delight and profit.\n\nMr. Martineau is so thoroughly acquainted with the processes and\nresults of spiritual experience, with the sciences of nature, and with\nthe whole realm of metaphysical philosophy, and his own wealthy\nfaculties are so tenacious in their activity and freshness, that every\nsubject he touches receives novelty, light, and ornament. He is\nemphatically a teacher for the teachers,--a greater guide and master\nfor the common guides and masters. Traversing the whole domain of\nhuman contemplation with the defining lines of analysis, clothing the\nsevere materials of science with the colors of \u00e6sthetic art, he sheds\non every theme the illumination of intellectual genius, and transfuses\nevery thought with the distinctive sentiments of piety. Thus is\nafforded that rarest of all spectacles,--and the one now most needed\nby the cultivated religious world,--of a man who is greatly endowed at\nonce as philosopher, poet, and Christian, and who with simultaneous\nearnestness in each capacity is devoted, by the whole labors of his\nlife, to the instruction of mankind.\n\nFor these reasons, we feel it a duty to attract as much attention as\npossible to Mr. Martineau's past and expected publications. The\npeerless intelligence, the bracing fidelity, the essential nobleness\nand catholicity, the tender beauty and reverence, of his utterances,\nhis consummate mastery of the great topics he handles, seem to us\nfitted in a solitary degree to meet the highest wants of the age,--to\ndo divine service in the conflict of scepticism, sensuality, and decay\nagainst all that is truest and purest in the religious faith and moral\nlife of Christendom. Therefore, to persons who, unacquainted with the\nauthor's previous works, may read the papers here collected, we would\nrecommend as the best books for educated and earnest Christian\nthinkers, Mr. Martineau's \"Rationale of Religious Inquiry,\" the volume\nof his \"Miscellanies\" edited by the Rev. T. S. King, and the two\nseries of \"Endeavors after the Christian Life\" recently republished in\none volume by Messrs. Munroe and Company.\n\nWe shall make up the rest of this introductory paper by quoting from\nsome of Mr. Martineau's articles, not generally accessible, a few\nspecimens of those thoughts which, if freely received in these times\nof theological doubt and turmoil, would lead many a religious thinker\ntowards the truth and peace he covets.\n\nHow clearly the following passage shows the true\n\n\nRELATION BETWEEN NATURAL AND REVEALED RELIGION.\n\nThe contempt with which it is the frequent practice of divines to treat\nthe grounds of natural religion, betrays an ignorance both of the true\noffice of revelation and of the true wants of the human heart. It cannot\nbe justified, except on the supposition that there is some contradiction\nbetween the teachings of creation and those of Christ, with some decided\npreponderance of proof in favor of the latter. Even if the Gospel\nfurnished a series of perfectly new truths, of which nature had been\nprofoundly silent, it would be neither reasonable nor safe to fix\nexclusive attention on these recent and historical acquisitions, and\nprohibit all reference to those elder oracles of God, by which his\nSpirit, enshrined in the glories of his universe, taught the fathers of\nour race. And if it be the function of Christianity not to administer\ntruth entirely new, but to corroborate by fresh evidence, and invest\nwith new beauty, and publish to the millions with a voice of power, a\nfaith latent already in the hearts of many, and scattered through the\nspeculations of the wise and noble few,--to erect into realities the\ndreams which had visited a half-inspired philosophy, interpreting the\nlife and lot of man;--then there is a relation between the religion of\nnature and that of Christ,--a relation of original and\nsupplement,--which renders the one essential to the apprehension of the\nother. Revelation, you say, has given us the clew by which to thread the\nlabyrinth of creation, and extricate ourselves from its passages of\nmystery and gloom. Be it so; still, _there_, in the scene thus cleared\nof its perplexity, must our worship be paid, and the manifestations of\nDeity be sought. If the use of revelation be to explain the perplexities\nof Providence and life, it would be a strange use to make of the\nexplanation were we to turn away from the thing explained. We hold the\nkey of heaven in our hands. What folly to be for ever extolling and\nvenerating it, whilst we prohibit all approach to the temple whose gates\nit is destined to unlock.\n\nOne would search long to find a finer illustration than is here given\nof the real\n\n\nNATURE OF DEVOTION.\n\nIn Devotion there is this great peculiarity,--that it is neither the\n_work_ nor the _play_ of our nature, but is something higher than\neither,--more ideal than the one, more real than the other. All human\nactivities besides are one of these two things,--either the mere aim\nat an external end, or the mere outcome of an inner feeling. On the\none hand, we plough and sow, we build and navigate, that we may win\nthe adornments and securities of life; on the other hand, we sing and\ndance, we carve and paint, that we may put forth the pressure of\nharmony and joy and beauty breaking from within. Mechanical Toil\nterminates in a solid product; graceful Art is content with simple\nexpression; but Religion is degraded when it is reduced to either\ncharacter. It is not a labor of utility; and he who looks to it as a\nmeans of safety, to ingratiate himself with an awful God, and bespeak\nan interest in a hidden Future, is an utter stranger to its essence;\nhis habits and words may be cast in its mould, but the spark of its\nlife is not kindled in his heart. When fed by the fuel of prudence,\nthe fire is all spent in fusing it into form; and the finished product\nis a cold and metal mimicry, that neither moves nor glows. Nor is\nReligion a simple gesture of passion; and to class it with mere\nnatural language, to treat it as the rhythmical delirium of the soul\nworking off an irrepressible enthusiasm, is to empty it of its real\nmeaning and contents, and sink it from a divine attraction to a human\nexcitement. The postures and movements and tones which simply\nmanifest the impassioned mind are content to go off into space, and\npass away; they direct themselves nowhither; they have no more\n_object_ than a convulsion; they ask only leave to be the last shape\nof a feeling that must have way; and be the inspiration what it may,\nthey close and consummate its history. But he who _prays_ is at the\nbeginning of aspiration, not at the evaporating end of impulse; he is\ndrawn, not driven; he is not painting _himself_ upon vacancy, but is\nsurrendering himself to a Presence real and everlasting. If he flings\nout his arms, it is not in blind paroxysm, but that he may embrace and\nbe embraced; if he cries aloud, it is that he may be heard; if he\nmakes melody of the silent heart, it is no soliloquy flung into\nemptiness, but the low-breathing love of spirit to Spirit. Devotion is\nnot the play even of the highest faculties, but their deep earnest. It\nis no doubt the culminating point of reverence; but reverence is\nimpossible without an object, and could never culminate at all, or\npass into the Infinite, unless its object did so too. In every case we\nfind that the faculties and susceptibilities of a being tell true, and\nare the exact measure of the outer life it has to live; and just as\nmany and as large proportions as it has, to just so many and so great\nobjects does it stand related; so that from the axis of its nature you\nmay always draw the curve of its existence. Human worship, therefore,\nturning to the living God as the infant's eye to light, is itself a\nwitness to Him whom it feels after and adores; it is \"the image and\nshadow of heavenly things,\" the parallel chamber in our nature with\nthat Holy of Holies whither its incense ever ascends.\n\nIn a similar strain is this argument to show that\n\n\nDEVOTION IS NOT A MISTAKE.\n\nBe assured, all visible greatness of mind grows in looking at an\ninvisible that is greater. And since it is inconceivable that what is\nmost sublime in humanity should spring from vision of a thing that is\nnot, that what is most real and commanding with us should come of\nstretching the soul into the unreal and empty, that historic\ndurability should be the gift of spectral fancies, we must hold these\ndevout natures to be at one with everlasting Fact,--to feel truly that\nthe august forms of Justice and Holiness are at home in heaven, the\nobject there of clearer insight and more perfect veneration. There are\nthose who please themselves with the idea that the world will outgrow\nits habits of worship; that the newspaper will supersede the preacher\nand prophet; that the apprehension of scientific laws will replace the\nfervor of moral inspirations; that this sphere of being will then be\nperfectly administered when no reference to another distracts\nattention. But, for my own part, I am persuaded, that life would soon\nbecome intolerable on earth, were it copied from nothing in the\nheavens; that its deeper affections would pine away and its lights of\npurest thought grow pale, if it lay shrouded in no Holy Spirit, but\nonly in the wilderness of space. The most sagacious secular voice\nleaves, after all, a chord untouched in the human heart: listening too\nlong to its didactic monotone, we begin to sigh for the rich music of\nhope and faith. The dry glare of noonday knowledge hurts the eye by\nplying it for use and denying it beauty; and we long to be screened\nbehind a cloud or two of moisture and of mystery, that shall mellow\nthe glory and cool the air. Never can the world be less to us, than\nwhen we make it all in all.\n\nOur author makes a striking reply to the common assertion that\n\n\n\"THEOLOGY IS NOT A PROGRESSIVE SCIENCE.\"\n\nIt may, however, be retrogressive; and it is sure to repay flippant\nneglect by lending its empty space to mean delusions. To its great\nproblems _some_ answer will always be attempted; and there is much to\nchoose between the solutions, however imperfect, found by reverential\nwisdom, and the degrading falsehoods tendered in reply by the\nindifferent and superficial. Even in their failures, there is a vast\ndifference between the explorings of the seeing and the blind. We deny,\nhowever, that Christian theology can assume any aspect of failure,\nexcept to those who use a false measure of success. It is not in the\nnature of religion, of poetry, of art, to exhibit the kind of progress\nthat belongs to physical science. They differ from it in seeking, not\nthe _phenomena_ of the universe, but its _essence_,--not its laws of\nchange, but its eternal meanings,--not outward nature, in short, except\nas expressive of the inner thought of God; and being thus intent upon\nthe enduring spirit and very ground of things, they cannot grow by\nnumerical accretion of facts and exacter registration of successions.\nThey are the product, not of the patient sense and comparing\nintelligence which are always at hand, but of a deeper and finer\ninsight, changing with the atmosphere of the affections and will.\nInstead of looking, therefore, for perpetual advance of discovery in\ntheology, we should naturally expect an ebb and flow of light, answering\nto the moral condition of men's minds; and may be content if the divine\ntruth, lost in the dulness of a material age, clears itself into fresh\nforms with the returning breath of a better time.\n\nMost readers will find suggestions of great freshness in the passage\nnext cited:--\n\n\nTHE HEART OF CHRISTIANITY.\n\nTo lose sight of this principle in estimating Christianity, and to\ninsist on judging it, not by its matured character in Christendom, not\nby the _unconscious spirit_ of its founders, but by their personal\nviews and purposes, is to overlook the divine in it in order to fasten\non the human; to seek the winged creature of the air in the throbbing\nchrysalis; and is like judging the place of the Hebrews in history by\nthe court and the proverbs of Solomon, or the value of Puritanism by\nthe sermon of a hill-preacher before the civil war. The primitive\nChristianity was certainly _different_ from that of other ages; but\nthere is no reason for believing that it was _better_. The\nrepresentation often made of the early Church, as having only truth,\nand feeling only love, and living in simple sanctity, is contradicted\nby every page of the Christian records. The Epistles are entirely\noccupied in driving back guilt and passion, or in correcting errors of\nbelief; nor is it _always_ possible to approve of the temper in which\nthey perform the one task, or to assent to the methods by which they\nattempt the other. Principles and affections were indeed secreted in\nthe heart of the first disciples, which were to have a great future,\nand to become the highest truth of the world. But it was precisely of\nthese that they rarely thought at all. The Apostles themselves speak\nslightingly of them, as baby's food; and the great faith in God, the\nneed of repentant purity of heart, with the trust in immortality,--the\nvery doctrines which we should name as the permanent essence of\nChristian faith,--are expressly declared by them to be the childish\nrudiments of belief, on which the attention of the grown Christian\nwill disdain to dwell. And what did they prefer to these sublime\ntruths, as the nutriment of their life and the pride of their wisdom?\nAllegories about Isaac and Ishmael, parallels between Christ and\nMelchisedec, new readings of history and prophecy to suit the events\nin Palestine, and a constant outlook for the end of all things. These\nwere the grand topics on which their minds eagerly worked, and on\nwhich they labored to construct a consistent theory. These give the\nform to their doctrine, the matter to their spirit. These are what you\nwill get, if you go indiscriminately to their writings for a creed:\nand these are no more Christianity than the pretensions of Hildebrand\nor the visions of Swedenborg. The true religion lies elsewhere, just\nin the things that were _ever present with them, but never esteemed_.\nJust as your friend may spend his anxiety on his station, his\nusefulness, his appearance and repute, and fear lest he should show\nnothing deserving your regard, while all the time you love him for the\npure graces, the native wild-flowers, of his heart; so do the\nchoicest servants of God ever think one thing of themselves, while\nthey are dear to him and revered by us for quite another. \"The weak\nthings\" in the Church not less than in \"the world hath he chosen to\nconfound the mighty; the simple, to strike dumb the wise; and things\nthat are not, to supersede the things that are.\"\n\nIn rude ages, and amid feudal customs, it has perhaps been no unhappy\nthing that this image of servitude has been transmitted into the\nconceptions of faith: it may have touched with some sanctity an\ninevitable submission, and mingled a sentiment of loyalty with\nreligion. But the _external relation_ of serf and lord is no type of\nthe _internal relation_ of spirit to spirit, which alone constitutes\nreligion to us. To God himself, with all his infinitude, we are not\n_slaves_; we are not his _property_, but his children; he regards us,\nnot as _things_, but as _persons_; he does not so much command us, as\nappeal to us; and in our obedience, it is not his _bidding_ that we\nserve, but that divine Law of Right of which he makes us conscious as\nthe rule of His nature only more perfectly than of ours. To obey him\nas _slaves_, in fear, and with an eye upon his power, is, with all our\npunctuality and anxiety, simply and entirely to _disobey_ him; nor is\nanything precious in his sight, except the free consent of heart with\nwhich we apprehend what is holy to his thought and embrace what is in\nharmony with his perfection. Still less can we be _slaves_ to Christ,\nwho is no autocrat to us, but our freely followed leader towards God;\nthe guide of our pilgrim troop in quest of a holy land; who gives us\nno law from the mandates of his will, but only interprets for us, and\nmakes burn within us, in characters of fire, the law of our own\nhearts; who has no power over us, except through the affections he\nawakens and the aspirations he sets upon the watch. We have emerged\nfrom the Religion of _Law_, whose only sentiment is that of _obedience\nto sovereignty_; we have passed from the religion of _Salvation_,\nwhose life consists in _gratitude to a Deliverer_; and we are capable\nonly of a religion of _reverence_, which bows before the _authority of\nGoodness_. And in the infinite ranks of excellence, from the highest\nto the lowest, there are no lords and slaves; the dependence is ever\nthat of internal charm, not of external bond; the _authority_ is but\nrepresented and impersonated in another and a better soul, but has its\nliving seat within our own; and in this true and elevating worship,\nthe more we are disposed of by another, the more do we feel that we\nare our own. This is a relation which the political terms of the\nexpected theocracy are ill adapted to express; and if we have required\nmany centuries to grope our way to this clearest glory of religion, to\ndisengage it from the impure admixture of servile fear and revolting\npresumption; if it has taken long for us to melt away in our\nimagination the images of thrones and tribunals, of prize-givings and\nprisons, of a police and assizes of the universe; if only at the\neleventh hour of our faith, the cloud has passed away, and shown us\nthe true angel-ladder that springs from earth to heaven, the pure\nclimax of souls whereon each below looks up and rises, yet each above\nbends down and helps;--the discovery which brings such peace and\nfreedom to the heart, has been delayed by the mistaken identification\nof the entire creed of the first age with the essence of Christianity.\nNow that God has shown us so much more, has tried the divine seed of\nthe Gospel on so various a soil of history, and enabled us to\ndistinguish its fairest blossoms and its choicest fruits, a much\nlarger meaning than was possible at first must be given to the purpose\nof his revelation. Even to Paul, Christ was mainly the great\nrepresentative of a theocratic idea; and was in no other sense an\nobject of _spiritual_ belief, than that he was not on earth and\nmortal, but in heaven and immortal. That _faith_ in Christ, which then\nprominently denoted belief in his appointed return, and _allegiance_\nto him as God's viceroy in this world, is now transferred into quite a\ndifferent thing. It is altogether a moral and affectionate sentiment:\nan acknowledgment of him as the highest impersonation of divine\nexcellence and inspired insight yet given to the world; a trust in him\nas the only realized type of perfection that can mediate for us\nbetween ourselves and God; a faithfulness to him, as making us\nconscious of what we are and what God and our conscience would have us\nto be. It is vain to pretend that revelation is a fixed and\nstereotyped thing. It was born, as the divinest things must be, among\nhuman conditions; and into it ever since human conditions have\nperpetually flowed. The elements of Hebrew thought surrounded the\nsacred centre at first, and have been erroneously identified with it\nby all Unitarian churches in every age. The Hellenic intellect\nafterwards streamed towards the fresh point of life and faith, and\ngathered around it the metaphysical system of Trinitarian dogma in\nwhich orthodox communions of all times have, with parallel error,\nsought the essence of the Gospel. The true principle of the religion\nhas been _secreted in both, and consisted in neither_: it has lain\nunnoticed in the midst, in the silent chamber of the heart, around\nwhich the clamor of the disputatious intellect whirls without\nentrance. The agency of Christ's mind as the expression of God's moral\nnature and providence, and as the realized ideal of beauty and\nexcellence,--this is the power of God and the wisdom of God, which has\nmade vain the counsels of the world, and baffled the foolishness of\nthe Church. This is the Gospel's centre of stability,--\"Jesus Christ,\nthe same yesterday, to-day, and for ever.\"\n\nFew persons can be insensible to the sublimity of this expression upon\nthe relation between\n\n\nCHRIST, NATURE, PROVIDENCE, AND GOD.\n\nIn conclusion, then, I revert, with freshened persuasion, to the\nstatement with which I commenced. Jesus Christ of Nazareth, God hath\npresented to us simply in his inspired humanity. Him we accept, not\nindeed as very God, but as the true image of God, commissioned to show\nwhat no written doctrinal record could declare, the entire moral\nperfections of Deity. We accept, not indeed his body, not the\nstruggles of his sensitive nature, not the travail of his soul, but\nhis purity, his tenderness, his absolute devotion to the great idea of\nright, his patient and compassionate warfare against misery and guilt,\nas the most distinct and beautiful expression of the Divine mind. The\npeculiar office of Christ is to supply a new _moral_ image of\nProvidence; and everything, therefore, except the _moral_ complexion\nof his mind, we leave behind as human and historical merely, and apply\nto no religious use. I have already stated in what way nature and the\nGospel combine to bring before us the great object of our trust and\nworship. The universe gives us the scale of God, and Christ, his\nSpirit. We climb to the infinitude of his nature by the awful pathway\nof the stars, where whole forests of worlds silently quiver here and\nthere, like a small leaf of light. We dive into his eternity, through\nthe ocean waves of time, that roll and solemnly break on the\nimagination, as we trace the wrecks of departed things upon our\npresent globe. The scope of his intellect, and the majesty of his\nrule, are seen in the tranquil order and everlasting silence that\nreign through the fields of his volition. And the spirit that animates\nthe whole is like that of the Prophet of Nazareth; the thoughts that\nfly upon the swift light throughout creation, charged with fates\nunnumbered, are like the healing mercies of One that passed no sorrow\nby. The government of this world, its mysterious allotments of good\nand ill, its successions of birth and death, its hopes of progress and\nof peace, each life of individual or nation, is under the\nadministration of One, of whose rectitude and benevolence, whose\nsympathy with all the holiest aspirations of our virtue and our love,\nChrist is the appointed emblem. A faith that spreads around and within\nthe mind a Deity thus sublime and holy, feeds the light of every pure\naffection, and presses with omnipotent power on the conscience; and\nour only prayer is, that we may walk as children of such light.\n\nIt seems as if no one capable of understanding could resist the\nconvincing cogency of the following exhibition of\n\n\nTHE IDEA OF VICARIOUS JUSTICE.\n\nIt is only natural that the parable of the Prodigal Son should be no\nfavorite with those who deny the unconditional mercy of God. The place\nwhich this divine tale occupies in the Unitarian theology appears to\nbe filled, in the orthodox scheme, by the story of Zaleucus, king of\nthe Locrians; which has been appealed to in the present controversy by\nboth the lecturers on the Atonement, and seems to be the only\nendurable illustration presented, even by Pagan history, of the\nexecution of vicarious punishment. This monarch had passed a law\ncondemning adulterers to the loss of both eyes. His own son was\nconvicted of the crime; and, to satisfy at once the claims of law and\nof clemency, the royal parent \"commanded one of his own eyes to be\npulled out, and one of his son's.\" Is it too bold a heresy to confess\nthat there seems to me something heathenish in this example, and that,\nas an exponent of the Divine character, I more willingly revere the\nFather of the prodigal than the father of the adulterer?\n\nWithout entering, however, into any comparison between the Locrian and\nthe Galilean parable, I would observe, that the vicarious theory\nreceives no illustration from this fragment of ancient history. There\nis no analogy between the cases, except in the violation of truth and\nwisdom which both exhibit; and whatever we are instructed to admire in\nZaleucus, will be found on close inspection to be absent from the\northodox representation of God. We pity the Grecian king, who had made\na law without foresight of its application, and so sympathize with his\ndesire to evade it, that any quibble which legal ingenuity can devise\nfor this purpose passes with slight condemnation; casuistry refuses to\nbe severe with a man implicated in such a difficulty. But the Creator\nand Legislator of the human race, having perfect knowledge of the\nfuture, can never be surprised into a similar perplexity; or ever pass\na law at one time which at another he desires to evade. Even were it\nso, there would seem to be less that is unworthy of his moral\nperfection in saying plainly, with the ancient Hebrews, that he\n\"repented of the evil he thought to do,\" and said, \"It shall not be,\"\nthan in ascribing to him a device for preserving consistency, in which\nno one capable of appreciating veracity can pretend to discern any\nsincere fulfilment of the law. However barbarous the idea of Divine\n\"repentance,\" it is at least ingenuous. Nor does this incident of\nZaleucus and his son present any parallel to the alleged relation\nbetween the Divine Father who receives, and the Divine Son who gives,\nthe satisfaction for human guilt. The Locrian king took a part of the\npenalty himself, and left the remainder where it was due; but the\nSovereign Lawgiver of Calvinism puts the whole upon another. To\nsustain the analogy, Zaleucus should have permitted an innocent son to\nhave both his eyes put out, and the convicted adulterer to escape.\n\nThe doctrine of Atonement has introduced among Trinitarians a mode of\nspeaking respecting God, which grates most painfully against the\nreverential affections due to him. His nature is dismembered into a\nnumber of attributes, foreign to each other, and preferring rival\nclaims; the Divine tranquillity appears as the equilibrium of opposing\npressures,--the Divine administration as a resultant from the\ncollision of hostile forces. Goodness pleads for that which holiness\nforbids; and the Paternal God would do many a mercy, did the Sovereign\nGod allow. The idea of a conflict or embarrassment in the Supreme Mind\nbeing thus introduced, and the believer being haunted by the feeling\nof some tremendous difficulty affecting the Infinite government, the\nvicarious economy is brought forward as the relief, the solution of\nthe whole perplexity; the union, by a blessed compromise, of\nattributes that could never combine in any scheme before. The main\nbusiness of theology is made to consist in stating the conditions and\nexpounding the solution of this imaginary problem. The cardinal\ndifficulty is thought to be the reconciliation of justice and mercy;\nand, as the one is represented under the image of a Sovereign, the\nother under that of a Father, the question assumes this form: How can\nthe same being at every moment possess both these characters, without\nabandoning any function or feeling appropriate to either? how,\nespecially, can the Judge remit?--it is beyond his power; yet how can\nthe Parent punish to the uttermost?--it is contrary to his nature.\n\nAll this difficulty is merely fictitious, arising out of the\ndetermination to make out that God is both wholly Judge and wholly\nFather; from an anxiety, that is, to adhere to two metaphors, as\napplicable, in every particular, to the Divine Being. It is evident that\nboth must be, to a great extent, inappropriate; and in nothing, surely,\nis the impropriety more manifest, than in the assertion that, as\nsovereign, God is naturally bound to execute laws which, nevertheless,\nit would be desirable to remit, or change in their operation. Whatever\npainful necessities the imperfection of human legislation and judicial\nprocedure may impose, the Omniscient Ruler can make no law which he will\nnot to all eternity, and with entire consent of his whole nature, deem\nit well to execute. This is the Unitarian answer to the constant\nquestion, \"How can God forgive in defiance of his own law?\" It is not in\ndefiance of his laws: every one of which will be fulfilled to the\nuttermost, in conformity with his first intent; but nowhere has he\ndeclared that he would not forgive. All justice consists in treating\nmoral agents according to their character; the inexorability of human\nlaw arises solely from the imperfection with which it can attain this\nend, and is not the essence, but the alloy, of equity; but God, who\nsearches and controls the heart, exercises that perfect justice, which\npermits the penal suffering to depart only with the moral guilt; and\npardons, not by cancelling any sentence, but by obeying his eternal\npurpose to meet the wanderer returning homeward, and give his blessing\nto the restored. Only by such restoration can any past guilt be effaced.\nThe thoughts, emotions, and sufferings of sin, once committed, are woven\ninto the fabric of the soul; and are as incapable of being absolutely\nobliterated thence and put back into non-existence, as moments of being\nstruck from the past, or the parts of space from infinitude. Herein we\nbehold alike \"the goodness and the severity of God\"; and adore in him,\nnot the balance of contrary tendencies, but the harmony of consentaneous\nperfections. How plainly does experience show that, if his personal\nunity be given up, his moral unity cannot be preserved!\n\nThe author himself is the best exemplification of the man described in\nthis account of the\n\n\nDIFFERENCE BETWEEN APPREHENSION AND INTERPRETATION.\n\nThe difference between the ordinary visual gaze upon the external\nuniverse, and the interpreting glance of science, is felt by every\ncultivated understanding to be immeasurable;--and the contrast is not\nless between that dull sense of what passes within him, which is forced\nupon a man by mere practical experience, and the exact consciousness,\nthe discriminative perception, the easy comprehension of his own (and,\nso far as they are expressed by faithful symbols, of others') states and\naffections, possessed by the patient analyst of thought and emotion, and\ncareful collector of their laws. The mighty mass of human achievement\nand human failure, in intellectual research, in moral endeavor, in\nsocial economy and government, lapses into order before him, and\ndistributes itself among the provinces of determinate laws. The\nstructure of a child's perplexity, and the fallacies of the most\nambitious hypothesis, lie open to him as readily, as to the artisan a\nflaw in the fabric of his own craft. The creations of art fall before\nhim into their elements; and, dissolving away their constituent\n_matter_, which is an accident of their age, leave upon his mind their\npermanent _form_ of beauty, as his guide to a true and noble criticism.\nThe progress and the aberrations of human reason, in its quest of truth,\nare as clearly appreciated by him, as the passages of happy skill or\nignorant roving in some voyage of discovery, when the outlines and\nrelations of the sphere on which it is made become fully known.\nDiscerning distinctly the different kinds of evidence appropriate to\ndifferent departments of truth, and weighing the scientific value of\nevery idea and method of thought, he is not at the mercy of each\nsuperficial impression and obtrusive phase presented to him by the\nsubjects of his contemplation; but he attains a certain rational tact\nand graduated feeling of certainty in abstract matters of opinion, by\nwhich he escapes alike the miseries of undefined doubt, and the passions\nof unqualified dogmatism. In short, the great idea of Science is applied\nby him to the complicated workings of the mind of man; interprets the\nactivities of his nature, and gives laws to the administration of his\nlife; and, with wonderful analysis, investigates the properties, and\nestablishes the equation, of their most labyrinthine curves.\n\nWhat a rebuke upon dogmatic sciolists, what a glorious invitation to\nstudy, are conveyed in the genial, broad, mental hospitality of the\nsucceeding paragraph!\n\n\nNECESSITY OF LEARNING IN PHILOSOPHY.\n\nIf there is one department of knowledge more than another in which a\ncontemptuous disregard of the meditations and theories of distant\nperiods and nations is misplaced, it is in the philosophy of\nman,--which can have no adequate breadth of basis till it reposes on\nthe consciousness and covers the mental experience of the universal\nrace; and to construct which out of purely personal materials, is like\nattempting to lay down the curves and finish the theory of terrestrial\nmagnetism on the strength of a few closet experiments. No man, however\nlarge-thoughted and composite his mind, can accept of _himself_ as the\ntype of universal human nature. It will even be a great and rare\nendowment, if, with every aid of exact learning and unwearying\npatience, he is able to penetrate the atmosphere of others'\nunderstanding, and to observe the forms and colors which the objects\nof contemplation assume, when beheld through this peculiar medium.\nSimply to avail one's self of the experience of mankind, and know what\nit has really been, demands no little scope of imagination and\nversatility of intellectual sympathy. When these qualities are so\ndeficient in a thinker that he cannot well achieve this knowledge, it\nis a great misfortune to his philosophy; when the want is such that he\ndoes not even desire it, it amounts to an absolute disqualification.\nWithout, therefore, pledging ourselves to the eclectic principles\nwhich prevail in the present school of philosophy in France, we must\nbeware of the intolerant dogmatism of Bentham in England, sanctioned,\nas we have seen, by one of the masters of the antagonist metaphysics\nin Germany. Indeed, it will be a chief purpose of all my lectures to\nenable you to profit by the light of other minds; in every province of\nthe vast region which we shall explore together, to indicate the paths\nwhich they have traversed before, nor ever to turn away from their\npoints of discovery, without raising some rude monument at least of\nhonest and commemorative praise. To introduce you to the works, to\ninterpret the difficulties, to do honor to the labors, to review the\nopinions, of the great masters of speculative thought in every age and\nin many lands, will be an indispensable portion of my duty;--a task\nmost arduous indeed, but than which none can be more grateful to one\nwho loves to trace, through all their affinities, the indestructible\ntypes of truth and beauty in the human mind; and to mark the natural\nlaws, connecting together the most opposite continents and climes of\nthought, as parts, successively colonized and cultivated, of one great\nintellectual world. But in addition to the study of the several\nclasses of psychological and moral doctrine as they present themselves\nin the _order of science_, it will be important to spread out the\nliterature of philosophy before us in the _order of time_; to gain an\ninsight into the natural development of successive modes of thought on\nspeculative subjects; to notice the action and reaction of philosophy\nand practical life; to ascertain whether opinion on these abstract\nmatters really advances into knowledge and has any determinate\nprogression, or whether it oscillates for ever on either side of some\nfixed idea, or line of mental gravitation. In short, having surveyed\nour subject systematically, we shall go over it again chronologically;\nand call upon philosophy, when it has recited its creed, and revealed\nits wisdom, to finish all by writing its history.\n\nThe hints given in Mr. Martineau's frequent references to the bearing\nof scientific knowledge and laws upon theological speculations are\nvery important. We adduce a single example.\n\n\nPHYSICAL SCIENCE AND RELIGION.\n\nAn accomplished and thoughtful observer of nature--Hugh Miller, the\ngeologist--has somewhere remarked, that religion has lost its\ndependence on metaphysical theories, and must henceforth maintain\nitself upon the domain of physical science. He accordingly exhorts the\nguardians of sacred truth to prepare themselves for the approaching\ncrisis in its history, by exchanging the study of thoughts for the\napprehension of things, and carefully cultivating the habit of\ninductive research. The advice is excellent, and proceeds from one\nwhose own example has amply proved its worth; and unless the clergy\nqualify themselves to take part in the discussions which open\nthemselves with the advance of natural knowledge, they will assuredly\nbe neither secure in their personal convictions nor faithful to their\npublic trust. The only fault to be found with this counsel is, that in\nrecommending one kind of knowledge it disparages another, and betrays\nthat limited intellectual sympathy which is the bane of all noble\nculture. Geology, astronomy, chemistry, so far from succeeding to the\ninheritance of metaphysics, do but enrich its problems with new\nconceptions and give a larger outline to its range; and should they,\nin the wantonness of their young ascendency, persuade men to its\nneglect, they will pay the penalties of their contempt by the\nappearance of confusion in their own doctrine. The advance of any one\nline of human thought demands--especially for the security of\nfaith--the parallel movement of all the rest; and the attempt to\nsubstitute one intellectual reliance for another, mistakes for\nprogress of knowledge what may be only an exchange of ignorance. In\nparticular, the study of external nature must proceed _pari passu_\nwith the study of the human mind; and the errors of an age too\nexclusively reflective will not be remedied, but only reversed, by\nmere reaction into sciences of outward fact and observation. These\nphysical pursuits, followed into their further haunts, rapidly run up\ninto a series of notions common to them all,--expressed by such words\nas _Law_, _Cause_, _Force_,--which at once transfer the jurisdiction\nfrom the provincial courts of the special sciences to the high\nchancery of universal philosophy. To conduct the pleadings--still more\nto pronounce the judgment--there, other habits of mind are needed than\nare required in the museum and the observatory; and the history of\nknowledge, past and present, abounds with instances of men who, with\nthe highest merit in particular walks of science, have combined a\ncurious incompetency of survey over the whole. Hence, very few natural\nphilosophers, however eminent for great discoveries and dreaded by the\npriesthood of their day, have made any deep and durable impression on\nthe religious conception of the universe, as the product and\nexpression of an Infinite Mind; and in tracing the eras of human\nfaith, the deep thinker comes more prominently into view than the\nskilful interrogator of nature. In the history of religion, Plato is a\ngreater figure than Archimedes; Spinoza than Newton; Hume and Kant\nthan Volta and La Place; even Thomas Carlyle than Justus Liebig. Our\npicture indeed of the system of things is immensely enlarged, both in\nspace and duration, by the progress of descriptive science; and the\ngrouping of its objects and events is materially changed. But the\naltered scene carries with it the same expression to the soul; speaks\nthe same language as to its origin; renews its ancient glance with an\nauguster beauty; and, in spite of all dynamic theories, reproduces the\nvery modes of faith and doubt which belonged to the age both of the\nold Organon and of the new.\n\nThe ultimate problem of all philosophy and all religion is this: \"How\nare we to conceive aright the origin and first principle of things?\"\nThe answers, it has been contended by a living author of distinguished\nmerit, are necessarily reducible to two, between which all systems are\ndivided, and on the decision of whose controversy, all antagonist\nspeculations would lay down their arms. \"In the beginning was FORCE,\"\nsays one class of thinkers; \"force, singular or plural, splitting into\nopposites, standing off into polarities, ramifying into attractions\nand repulsions, heat and magnetism, and climbing through the stages of\nphysical, vital, animal, to the mental life itself.\" \"On the\ncontrary,\" says the other class, \"in the beginning was THOUGHT; and\nonly in the necessary evolution of its eternal ideas into expression\ndoes force arise,--self-realizing thought declaring itself in the\ntypes of being and the laws of phenomena.\" We need hardly say, that\nthe former of these two notions coalesces with the creed of Atheism,\nand is most frequently met with upon the path of the physical\nsciences, while the latter is favored by the mathematical and\nmetaphysical, and gives the essence of Pantheism. Each of them has\ninsurmountable difficulties, with which it is successfully taunted by\nthe other. Start from blind force; and how, by any spinning from that\nsolitary centre, are we ever to arrive at the seeing intellect? Can\nthe lower create the higher, and the unconscious enable us to think?\nStart from pure thinking, and how then can you get any force for the\nproduction of objective effects? How metamorphose a passage of dialect\ninto the power of gravitation, and a silent corollary into a flash of\nlightning? In taking the intellect as the type of God, this difficulty\nmust always be felt. We are well aware that it is not in _this_\nendowment that our dynamic energy resides. The _activity_ which we\nascribe to our intellect is not a power going out into external\nefficiency, but a mere passage across the internal field of successive\nthoughts as spontaneous phenomena. Nor have we, as thinking beings\nonly, any _option_ with respect to the thoughts thus streaming over\nthe theatre of rational consciousness; our constitution legislates for\nus in this particular, and the order of suggestion is determined by\nlaws having their seat in us. Finally, we are not, by mere thinking\ncapacity, constituted _persons_, any more than a sleeper who should\nnever wake, yet always be engaged with rational and scientific dreams,\nwould be a person. Without some further endowment, we should only be a\n_logical life_ and development. All these characters are imported into\nthe conception of God, when he is represented as conforming to the\ntype of reason. The activity of intellect being wholly internal, the\nphenomena of the Universe could not be referred to Him as a thinking\nbeing, were they not gathered up into the interior of his nature, and\nconceived, not as objective effects of his power, but as purely\nsubjective successions within the theatre of his infinitude. Intellect\nagain having no option, the God of this theory is without freedom, and\nis represented as the eternal necessity of reason. And lastly, in\nfidelity to the same analogy, He is not a divine _Person_, but rather\na _Thinking Thing_, or the thinking function of the universe; we may\nsay, _universal science in a state of self-consciousness_. The\nnecessity under which Pantheism lies, of fetching all that is to be\nreferred to God into the _interior_ of his being, and dealing with it\nas not less a necessary manifestation of his mental essence than are\nour ideas of the mind that has them, explains the unwillingness of\nthis system to allow any motives to God, any field of objective\noperation, any special relation to individuals, any revealing\ninterposition, any _supernatural_ agency.\n\nIs it however true, that human belief can only choose between these\ntwo extremes, and must oscillate eternally between the Atheistic\nhomage to Force, and the Pantheistic to Thought? Far from it; and it\nis curiously indicative of the state of the philosophic atmosphere in\nGermany, that one of her most discerning and wide-seeing authors\nshould find no third possibility within the sphere of vision. In any\nlatitude except one in which moral science has altogether melted away\nin the universal solvent of metaphysics, it would occur as one of the\nmost obvious suggestions, that the intellect is not the only element\nof human nature which may be taken as type of the Divine, and as\nfurnishing a possible solution to the problem of origination. Quitting\nthe two poles of extreme philosophy, confessedly incompetent in their\nseparation, we submit that WILL presents the middle point which takes\nup into itself Thought on the one hand and Force on the other; and\nwhich yet, so far from appearing to us as a _compound_ arising out of\nthem as an effect, is more easily conceived than either as the\noriginating prefix of all phenomena. It has none of the\ndisqualifications which we have remarked as flowing from the others\ninto their respective systems of doctrine. It carries with it, in its\nvery idea, the co-presence of Thought, as the necessary element within\nwhose sphere it has to manifest itself. Its phenomena cannot exist\n_alone_; it acts on preconceptions, which stand related to it,\nhowever, not as its source, but as its conditions, and are its\nco-ordinates in the effect rather than its generating antecedents. If\ntherefore all things are issued by Will, there is Mind at the\nfountain-head, and the absurdity is avoided of deriving intelligence\nfrom unintelligence. While it thus escapes the difficulty of passing\nfrom mere Force to Thought, it is equally clear of the opposite\ndifficulty of making mere Thought supply any Force. The activity of\nWill is not, like that of Intellect, a subjective transit of\nregimented ideas, but an _objective_ power _going out_ for the\nproduction of effects; nay, it is a _free_ power, exercising\n_preference_ among data furnished by internal or external conditions\npresent in its field; and it thus constitutes proper _Causality_,\nwhich always implies control over an alternative. We need hardly add,\nthat all the requisites are thus complete for the true idea of a\n_Person_; and an Infinite Being contemplated under this type is\nneither a fateful nor a logical principle of necessity, but a living\nGod, out of whose purposed legislation has sprung whatever necessity\nthere is, except the self-existent beauty of his holiness. Thus,\nbetween the Force of the physical Atheist, and the Thought of the\nmetaphysical Pantheist, we fix upon the fulcrum of Will as the true\nbalance-point of a moral Theism.\n\nIt would be impossible, perhaps, to find anywhere a finer instance of\nperspicuity in condensation, than is given in the following reference to\n\n\nLESSING'S THEOLOGICAL CONCLUSIONS.\n\nLessing refused to surrender Christianity, on proof of error in its\nfirst teachers, uncertainty in its reported miracles, contradictions\nin its early literature, misapplication of Messianic prophecies. All\nthese he regards as but the external accidents, the transitory media,\nof the religion, constituting, it may be, its support in one age and\nits weakness in another. They do not belong to its inner essence, in\nwhich alone the real evidence of spiritual truth is found; and he who\ndetects anything amiss with them may even render a service by driving\nmen from sham-proofs, that really persuade no one, to true ones that\nlie at the heart of things. Religious doctrine cannot be deduced from\nmere historical facts without a \u03bc\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b2\u03b1\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2 \u03b5\u03b9\u03c2 \u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03bf \u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 vitiating the\nwhole process. _Facts_ indeed _may_ become the proper ground of moral\nand spiritual faith; but then they must be facts which come over again\nand again, and betray an element that is permanent and eternal; which\nform part of the experience and consciousness of humanity; and ally\nthemselves with the Divine by not losing their _presence_ in the\nworld. But _unrepeated facts_, which limit themselves to a moment,\nwhich are the incidents of a single personality, and are left behind\nquite insulated in the past, show--were it only by your not expecting\nthem again--that they are detached from the persistent and essential\nlife of the universe and humanity. They are but once and away; and\nleast of all, therefore, can testify of the untransitory and\never-living. The real can teach us only so far as it has an ideal\nkernel, redeeming it from the character of a solitary phenomenon.\nAmong the various expositions and applications of this favorite theme\nof Lessing's, we select the following sentences from his Axiomata.\n\n1. \"The Bible evidently contains more than belongs to Religion.\"\n\n2. \"That in this '_more_' the Bible is still infallible, is mere\nhypothesis.\"\n\n3. \"The letter is not the spirit, and the Bible is not the Religion.\"\n\n4. \"The objections therefore against the letter and against the Bible,\nare not on that account objections against the spirit and against the\nReligion.\"\n\n5. \"Moreover there was a religion ere there was a Bible.\"\n\n6. \"Christianity was in being before Evangelists and Apostles had\nwritten. Some time elapsed before the first of them wrote, and a very\nconsiderable time before the whole canon was constituted.\"\n\n7. \"However much, therefore, may depend on these writings, it is\nimpossible that the whole truth of the Christian religion can rest\nupon them.\"\n\n8. \"If there was a period during which, diffused as the Christian\nreligion already was, and many as were the souls filled already with\nits power, still not a letter had yet been written of the records\nwhich have come down to us; then it must be also possible for all the\nwritings of Evangelists and Apostles to perish, yet the religion\ntaught by them still to subsist.\"\n\n9. \"The religion is not true because Evangelists and Apostles taught\nit; but they taught it because it is true.\"\n\n10. \"Its interior truth must furnish the interpretation of the\nwritings it has handed down; and no writings handed down can give it\ninterior truth, if it has none.\"\n\nIn his controversy with G\u00f6ze, he illustrates this distinction between\nthe essence and the historical form of Christianity, by a parable to\nthe following effect. A wise king of a great realm built a palace of\nimmense size and very peculiar architecture. About this structure,\nthere came from the very first a foolish strife to be carried on,\nespecially among reputed connoisseurs, people, that is, who had least\nlooked into the interior. This strife was not about the palace itself,\nbut about various old ground-plans of it, and drawings of the same,\nvery difficult to make out. Once, when the watchmen cried out \"Fire,\"\nthese connoisseurs, instead of running to help, snatched up their\nplans, and, instead of putting out the fire on the spot, kept standing\nwith their plans in hand, making a hubbub all the while, and\nsquabbling about whether this was the spot on fire, and that the place\nto put it out. Happily, the safety of the palace did not depend on\nthese busy wranglers, for it was not on fire at all; the watchmen had\nbeen frightened by the Northern lights, and mistaken them for fire. It\nis impossible to convey by a clearer image Lessing's feeling, that a\nChristianity once incorporated in the very substance of history and\ncivilization, seated deep in human sentiment and thought, and\ndeveloped into literature, law, and life, subsists independently of\ncritical questions, and is with us, not as the contingent vapor that a\nwind may rise to blow away, but as the cloud that has dropped its rain\nand mingled with the roots of things.\n\nIn immediate contrast with the foregoing application of a critical\nmethod to the historic documents of Christianity, it is beautiful to\nsee the same genius turned with eager joy to a practical\nrecommendation of the experimental life of Christianity.\n\n\nTHE REDEEMING LAW OF SYMPATHY.\n\nIt is quite true, that self-cure is of all things the most arduous;\nbut that which is impossible _to the man within us_, may be altogether\npossible _to the God_. In truth, the denial of such changes, under the\naffectation of great knowledge of man, shows an incredible ignorance\nof men. Why, the history of every great religious revolution, such as\nthe spread of Methodism, is made up of nothing else; the instances\noccurring in such number and variety, as to transform the character of\nwhole districts and vast populations, and to put all scepticism at\nutter defiance. And if some more philosophic authority is needed for\nthe fact, we may be content with the sanction of Lord Bacon, who\nobserved that a man reforms his habits either altogether or not at\nall. Deterioration of mind is indeed always gradual; recovery usually\nsudden; for God, by a mystery of mercy, has established this\ndistinction in our secret nature,--that, while we cannot, by one dark\nplunge, sympathize with guilt far beneath us, but gaze at it with\nrecoil till intermediate shades have rendered the degradation\ntolerable, we are yet capable of sympathizing with moral excellence\nand beauty infinitely above us; so that, while the debased may shudder\nand sicken at even the true picture of themselves, they can feel the\nsilent majesty of self-denying and disinterested duty. With a demon\ncan no man feel complacency, though the demon be himself; but God can\nall spirits reverence, though his holiness be an infinite deep. And\nthus the soul, privately uneasy at its insincere state, is prepared,\nwhen vividly presented with some sublime object veiled before, to be\npierced, as by a flash from heaven, with an instant veneration,\nsometimes intense enough to fuse the fetters of habit, and drop them\nto the earth whence they were forged. The mind is ready, like a liquid\non the eve of crystallization, to yield up its state on the touch of\nthe first sharp point, and dart, over its surface and in its depths,\ninto brilliant and beautiful forms, and from being turbid and weak as\nwater, to become clear as crystal, and solid as the rock.\n\nOne of the most elaborate and valuable productions from Mr.\nMartineau's pen, an article closely allied in all respects to the\nensuing Studies of Christianity, is the one of some portions of which\nwe herewith present an epitome.\n\n\nTHE CHRISTIAN VIEW OF MORAL EVIL.\n\nThe Divine sentiments towards right and wrong every man naturally\nbelieves to be a reflection of whatever is most pure and solemn in his\nown. We cannot be sincerely persuaded, that God looks with aversion on\ndispositions which we revere as good and noble; or that he regards with\nlax indifference the selfish and criminal passions which awaken our own\ndisgust. We may well suppose, indeed, his scrutiny more searching, his\nestimate more severely true, his rebuking look more awful, than our\nself-examination and remorse can fitly represent; but we cannot doubt\nthat our moral emotions, as far as they go, are in sympathy with his;\nthat we know, by our own consciousness, the general direction of his\napproval and displeasure; and that, in proportion as our perceptions of\nduty are rendered clear, our judgment more nearly approaches the\nprecision of the Omniscient award. Our own conscience is the window of\nheaven through which we gaze on God; and, as its colors perpetually\nchange, his aspect changes too;--if they are bright and fair, he dwells\nas in the warm light of a rejoicing love; if they are dark and turbid,\nhe hides himself in robes of cloud and storm. When you have lost your\nself-respect, you have never thought yourself an object of Divine\ncomplacency. In moments fresh from sin, flushed with the shame of an\ninsulted mind, when you have broken another resolve, or turned your back\nupon a noble toil, or succumbed to a mean passion, or lapsed into the\nsickness of self-indulgence, could you ever turn a clear and open face\nto God, nor think it terrible to meet his eye? Could you imagine\nyourself in congeniality with him, when you gave yourself up to the\nvoluble sophistry of self-excuse, and the loose hurry of forgetfulness?\nOr did you not discern him rather in your own accusing heart, and meet\nhim in the silent anguish of full confession, and find in the\nrecognition of your alienation the first hope of return? To all\nunperverted minds, the verdict of conscience sounds with a\npreternatural voice; it is not the homely talk of their own poor\njudgment, but an oracle of the sanctuary. There is something of\nanticipation in our remorse, as well as of retrospect; and we feel that\nit is not the mere survey of a gloomy past with the slow lamp of our\nunderstanding, but a momentary piercing of the future with the vivid\nlightning of the skies. Our moral nature, left to itself, intuitively\nbelieves that guilt is an estrangement from God,--an unqualified\nopposition to his will,--a literal service of the enemy; that he abhors\nit, and will give it no rest till it is driven from his presence, that\nis, into annihilation; that no part of our mind belongs to him but the\npure, and just, and disinterested affections which he fosters, the\nfaithful will which he strengthens, the virtue, often damped, whose\nsmoking flax he will not quench, and the good resolves, ever frail,\nwhose bruised reed he will not break; and that he has no relation but of\ndispleasure, no contact but of resistance, with our selfishness and sin.\nIn the simple faith of the conscience it is no figure of speech to say,\nthat God \"is angry with the wicked every day,\" and is \"of purer eyes\nthan to behold iniquity.\" So long as the natural religion of the heart\nis undisturbed, to sin is, in the plainest and most positive sense, to\nset up against Heaven, and frustrate its will.\n\nSoon, however, the understanding disturbs the tranquillity of this\nbelief, and constructs a rival creed. The primitive conception of God\nis acquired, I believe, without reasoning, and emerges from the\naffections; it is a transcript of our own emotions,--an investiture of\nthem with external personality and infinite magnitude. But a secondary\nidea of Deity arises in the intellect, from its reasonings about\ncausation. Curiosity is felt respecting the origin of things; and the\norder, beauty, and mechanism of external nature are too conspicuous\nnot to force upon the observation the conviction of a great Architect\nof the universe, from whose designing reason its forces and its laws\nmysteriously sprung. Hence the _intellectual_ conception of _God the\nCreator_, which comes into inevitable collision with the _moral_\nnotion of _God the holy watch of virtue_. For if the system of\ncreation is the production of his Omniscience; if he has constituted\nhuman nature as it is, and placed it in the scene whereon it acts; if\nthe arrangements by which happiness is allotted, and character is\nformed, are the contrivance of his thought and the work of his\nhand,--then the sufferings and the guilt of every being were objects\nof his original contemplation, and the productions of his own design.\nThe deed of crime must, in this case, be as much an integral part of\nhis Providence, as the efforts and sacrifices of virtue; and the\nmonsters of licentiousness and tyranny, whose images deform the\nscenery of history, are no less truly his appointed instruments, than\nthe martyr and the sage. And though we remain convinced that he does\nnot make choice of evil in his government for its own sake, but only\nfor ultimate ends worthy of his perfections, still we can no longer\nsee how he can truly hate that which he employs for the production of\ngood. That which is his chosen instrument cannot be sincerely regarded\nas his everlasting enemy; and only figuratively can he be said to\nrepudiate a power which he continually wields. There must be _some\nsense_ in which it appears, in the eye of Omniscience, to be eligible;\nsome point of view at which its horrors vanish; and where the moral\ndistinctions, which we feel ourselves impelled to venerate, disappear\nfrom the regards of God.\n\nHere, then, is a fearful contradiction between the religion of\nconscience and the religion of the understanding; the one pronouncing\nevil to be the antagonist, the other to be the agent, of the Divine\nwill. In every age has this difficulty laid a heavy weight upon the\nhuman heart; in every age has it pointed the sarcasm of the blasphemer,\nmingled an occasional sadness with the hopes of benevolence, and tinged\nthe devotion of the thoughtful with a somewhat melancholy trust. The\nwhole history of speculative religion is one prolonged effort of the\nhuman mind to destroy this contrariety; system after system has been\nborn in the struggle to cast the oppression off,--with what result, it\nwill be my object at present to explain. The question which we have to\nconsider is this, \"How should a Christian think of the origin and\nexistence of evil?\" I propose to advert, first, to the speculative;\nsecondly, to the scriptural; thirdly, to the moral relations of the\nsubject; to inquire what relief we can obtain from philosophical\nschemes, from biblical doctrine, and from practical Christianity.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nLet us then, for final decision, consult the practical spirit of\nChristianity, and ascertain to what view of the origin of sin it\nawards the preference. Is it well for the consciences and characters\nof men, to consider God--either directly or through his dependant,\nSatan, either by his general laws or by vitiating the constitution of\nour first parents--as the primary source of moral evil? _or_, on the\ncontrary, to regard it as in no sense whatever willed by the Supreme\nMind, and absolutely inimical to his Providence? Are we most in\nharmony with the characteristic spirit of the Gospel when we call sin\nhis instrument, or when we call it his enemy? For myself, I can never\nsit at the feet of Jesus, and yield up a reverential heart to his\ngreat lessons, without casting myself on the persuasion, that God and\nevil are everlasting foes; that never, and for no end, did he create\nit; that his will is utterly against it, nor ever touches it, but with\nannihilating force. Any other view appears to be injurious to the\ncharacteristic sentiments, and at variance with the distinguishing\ngenius, of Christian morality.\n\n(1.) Christianity is distinguished by the profound sentiment of\n_individual responsibility_ which pervades it. All the arbitrary forms,\nand sacerdotal interpositions, and hereditary rights, through which\nother systems seek the Divine favor, are disowned by it. It is a\nreligion eminently _personal_; establishing the most intimate and\nsolitary dealings between God and every human soul. It is a religion\neminently _natural_; eradicating no indigenous affection of our mind,\ndistorting no primitive moral sentiment; but simply consecrating the\nobligations proper to our nature, and taking up with a divine voice the\nwhispers, scarce articulate before, of the conscience within us. In this\ndeep harmony with our inmost consciousness of duty resides the true\npower of our religion. It subdues and governs our hearts, as a wise\nconqueror rules the empire he has won; not by imposing a system of\nstrange laws, but by arming with higher authority, and administering\nwith more resolute precision, the laws already recognized and revered.\n\nTo trifle in any way with this plain and solemn principle, to invent\nforms of speech tending to conceal it, to apply to moral good and ill\nlanguage which assimilates them to physical objects and exchangeable\nproperty, implies frivolous and irreverent ideas of sin and\nexcellence. The whole weight of this charge evidently falls on the\nscheme which speaks of human guilt as an hereditary entail; a scheme\nwhich shocks and confounds our primary notion of right and wrong, and,\nby rendering them impersonal qualities, reduces them to empty names.\nNo construction can be given to the system, which does not pass this\ninsult on the conscience. In what sense do we share the guilt of our\nprogenitor? His concession to temptation did not occur within our\nmind, or belong in any way to our history. And if, without\nparticipation in the _act_ of wrong, we are to have its _penalties_,\ncrimes in the planet Saturn may be expected to shower curses on the\nearth; for why may not justice go astray in space, as reasonably as in\ntime? If nothing more be meant, than that from our first parents we\ninherit a constitution _liable_ to intellectual error and moral\ntransgression,--still it is evident that, _until_ this liability takes\nactual effect, no sin exists, but only its possibility; and _when_ it\ntakes effect, there is just so much guilt, and no more, than might be\ncommitted by the individual's will: so that where there is _no_\nvolition, as in infancy, cruelty only could inflict punishment; and\nwhere there is _pure_ volition, as in many a good passage of the\nfoulest life, equity itself could not withhold approval.\n\n(2.) I submit as a second distinguishing feature of practical\nChristianity, that it makes no great, certainly no exclusive, appeal\nto the _prudential feelings_, as instruments of duty; treats them as\nmorally incapable of so sacred a work; and relies, chiefly and\ncharacteristically, on affections of the heart, which no motives of\nreward and punishment can have the smallest tendency to excite.\n\nThe Gospel, indeed, like all things divine, is unsystematic and\nunbound by technical distinctions, and makes no metaphysical\nseparation between the will and the affections. It is too profoundly\nadapted to our nature, not to address itself copiously to both. The\ndoctrine of retribution, being a solemn truth, appears with all its\nnative force in the teachings of Christ, and arms many of his appeals\nwith a persuasion just and terrible. But never was there a religion\n(containing these motives at all) so frugal in the use of them; so\nable, on fit occasions, to dispense with them; so rich in those\ninimitable touches of moral beauty, and tones that penetrate the\nconscience, and generous trust in the better sympathies, which\ndistinguish a morality of the affections. In Christ himself, where is\nthere a trace of the obedience of pious self-interest, computing its\neverlasting gains, and making out a case for compensation, by\nsubmitting to infinite wisdom? In his character, which is the\nimpersonation of his religion, we surely have a perfect image of\nspontaneous goodness, unhaunted by the idea of personal enjoyment,\nand, like that of God, unbidden but by the intuitions of conscience\nand the impulses of love. And what teacher less divine ever made such\nhigh and bold demands on our disinterestedness? To lend out our virtue\nupon interest, to \"love them only who love us,\" he pronounced to be\nthe sinners' morality; nor was the feeling of duty ever reached, but\nby those who could \"do good, hoping for _nothing_ again,\" except that\ngreatest of rewards to a true and faithful heart, to be \"the children\nof the Highest,\" who \"is kind unto the unthankful and the evil.\" In\nthe view of Jesus, all dealings between God and men were not of\nbargain, but of affection. We must surrender ourselves to him without\nterms; must be ashamed to doubt him who feeds the birds of the air,\nand, like the lily of the field, look up to him with a bright and\nloving eye; and he, for our much love, will pity and forgive us. In\nhis own ministry, how much less did our Lord rely for disciples on the\ncogency of mere proof, and the inducements of hope and fear, than on\nthe power of moral sympathy, by which every one that was of God\nnaturally loved him and heard his words; by which the good shepherd\nknew his sheep, and they listened to his voice, and followed him; and\nwithout which no man could come unto him, for no spirit of the Father\ndrew him. No condition of discipleship did Christ impose, save that of\n\"faith in him\"; absolute trust in the spirit of his mind; a desire of\nself-abandonment to a love and fidelity like his, without tampering\nwith expediency, or hesitancy in peril, or shrinking from death.\n\nThere is, then, a wide variance between the genius of Christianity,\nand that philosophy which teaches that all men must be bought over to\nthe side of goodness and of God, by a price suited to their particular\nform of selfishness and appetite for pleasure. Our religion is\nremarkable for the large confidence it reposes on the disinterested\naffections, and the vast proportion of the work of life it consigns to\nthem. And in thus seeking to subordinate and tranquillize the\nprudential feelings, Christ manifested how well he knew what was in\nman. He recognized the truth, which all experience declares, that in\nthese emotions is nothing great, nothing lovable, nothing powerful;\nthat their energy is perpetually found incapable of withstanding the\nimpetuosity of passion; and that all transcendent virtues, all that\nbrings us to tremble or to kneel, all the enterprises and conflicts\nwhich dignify history, and have stamped any new feature on human life,\nhave had their origin in the disinterested region of the mind,--in\naffections unconsciously entranced by some object sanctifying and\ndivine. He knew, for it was his special mission to make all men feel,\nthat it is the office of true religion to cleanse the sanctuary of the\nsecret affections, and effect a regeneration of the heart. And this is\na task which no direct _nisus_ of the will can possibly accomplish,\nand to which, therefore, all offers of reward and punishment,\noperating only on the will, are quite inapplicable. The single\nfunction of volition is _to act_; over the executive part of our\nnature it is supreme, over the emotional it is powerless; and all the\nwrestlings of desire for self-cure and self-elevation, are like the\nstruggles of a child to lift himself. He who is anxious to be a\nphilanthropist, is admiring benevolence, instead of loving men; and\nwhoever is laboring to warm his devotions, yearns after piety, not\nafter God. The mind can by no spasmodic bound seize on a new height of\nemotion, or change the light in which objects appear before its view.\nPersuade the judgment, bribe the self-interests, terrify the\nexpectations, as you will, you can neither dislodge a favorite, nor\nenthrone a stranger, in the heart. Show me a child that flings an\naffectionate arm around a parent, and lights up his eyes beneath her\nface, and I know that there have been no lectures there upon filial\nlove; but that the mother, being lovable, has _of necessity_ been\nloved; for to genial minds it is as impossible to withhold a pure\naffection, when its object is presented, as for the flower to sulk\nwithin the mould, and clasp itself tight within the bud, when the\ngentle force of spring invites its petals to curl out into the warm\nlight. As you reverence all good affections of our nature, and desire\nto awaken them, never call them duties, though they be so; for so\ndoing, you address yourself to the will; and by hard trying no\nattachment ever entered the heart. Never preach on their great\ndesirableness and propriety; for so doing, you ask audience of the\njudgment; and by way of the understanding no glow of noble passion\never came. Never, above all, reckon up their balance of good and ill;\nfor so doing, you exhort self-interest; and by that soiled way no true\nlove will consent to pass. Nay, never talk of them, nor even gaze\ncuriously at them; for if they be of any worth and delicacy, they will\nbe instantly looked out of countenance and fly. Nothing worthy of\nhuman veneration will condescend to be embraced, but for its own sake:\ngrasp it for its excellent results,--make but the faintest offer to\nuse it as a tool, and it slips away at the very conception of such\ninsult. The functions of a healthy body go on, not by knowledge of\nphysiology, but by the instinctive vigor of nature; and you will no\nmore brace the spiritual faculties to noble energy and true life by\nstudy of the uses of every feeling, than you can train an athlete for\nthe race by lectures on every muscle of every limb. The mind is not\nvoluntarily active in the acquisition of any great idea, any new\ninspiration of faith; but passive, fixed on the object which has\ndawned upon it, and filled it with fresh light.\n\nIf this be true, and if it be the object of practical Christianity,\nnot only to direct our hands aright, but to inspire our hearts, then\ncan its ends never be achieved by the mere force of reward and\npunishment; then no system can prove its sufficiency by showing that\nit retains the doctrine of retribution, and must even be held\nconvicted of moral incompetency, if it trusts the conscience mainly to\nthe prudential feelings, without due provision for enlisting the\nco-operation of many a disinterested affection.\n\nWe cannot refrain from affording those into whose hands this volume\nwill go, the pleasure and the lofty encouragement which they must\nderive from the perusal of an extract on\n\n\nTHE TRANSMISSION OF SUPERIOR THOUGHTS.\n\nIt is a law of Providence in communities, that ideas shall be\npropagated downwards through the several gradations of minds. They\nhave their origin in the suggestions of genius, and the meditations of\nphilosophy; they are assimilated by those who can admire what is great\nand true, but cannot originate; and thence they are slowly infused\ninto the popular mind. The rapidity of the process may vary in\ndifferent times, with the facilities for the transmission of thought,\nbut its order is constant. Temporary causes may shield the inferior\nranks of intelligence from the influence of the superior; fanaticism\nmay interpose for a while with success; a want of the true spirit of\nsympathy between the instructors and the instructed may check by a\nmoral repulsion the natural radiation of intellect;--but, in the end,\nProvidence will re-assert its rule; and the conceptions born in the\nquiet heights of contemplation will precipitate themselves on the busy\nmultitudes below. This principle interprets history and presages\nfuturity. It shows us in the popular feeling and traditions of one\nage, a reflection from the philosophy of a preceding; and from the\nprevailing style of sentiment and speculation among the cultivated\nclasses now, it enables us to foresee the spirit of a coming age. Nor\nonly to foresee it, but to exercise over it a power, in the use of\nwhich there is a grave responsibility. If we are far-sighted in our\nviews of improvement; if we are ambitious less of immediate and\nsuperficial effects than of the final and deep-seated agency of\ngenerous and holy principles; if our love of opinions is a genuine\nexpression of the disinterested love of truth;--we shall remember who\nare the teachers of futurity; we shall appeal to those, within whose\nclosets God is already computing the destinies of remote\ngenerations,--men at once erudite and free, men who have the materials\nof knowledge with which to determine the great problems of morals and\nreligion, and the genius to think and imagine and feel, without let or\nhinderance of hope or fear.\n\nWe linger over the pages from which the preceding selections have been\nmade, unwilling to end our grateful task of love. But one quotation\nmore must be the last. With it we commend these Studies of\nChristianity, these timely thoughts for religious thinkers, to the\ncandid and affectionate inquirers within all sects, confident that, so\nfar as the work obtains a fit reception, it will exert that purifying,\nliberalizing, and sanctifying power which is the genuine influence of\nChrist.\n\n\nCHRISTIANITY AND SECTARIAN THEOLOGY.\n\nThe sectarian state of theology in this country cannot but be regarded\nas eminently unnatural. Its cold and hard ministrations are entirely\nalien to the wants of the popular mind, which, except under the\ndiscipline of artificial influences, is always most awake to generous\nimpressions. Its malignant exclusiveness is a perversion of the natural\nveneration of the human heart, which, except where it is interfered with\nby narrow and selfish systems, pours itself out, not in hatred towards\nanything that lives, but in love to the invisible objects of trust and\nhope. Its disputatious trifling is an insult to the sanctity of\nconscience, which, except where it is betrayed into oblivion of its\ndelicate and holy office, supplicates of religion, not a new ferocity of\ndogmatism, but an enlargement and refinement of its sense of right. It\nis the temper of sectarianism to seize on every deformity of every\ncreed, and exhibit this caricature to the world's gaze and aversion. It\nis the spirit of the soul's natural piety to alight on whatever is\nbeautiful and touching in every faith, and take there its secret draught\nof pure and fresh emotion. It is the passages of poetry and pathos in a\nsystem, which alone can lay a strong hold on the general mind and give\nthem permanence; and even the wild fictions which have endeared Romanism\nto the hearts of so many centuries, possess their elements of tenderness\nand magnificence. The fundamental principle of one who would administer\nreligion to the minds of his fellow-men should be, that all that has\never been extensively venerated must possess ingredients that are\nvenerable. If, in the spirit of sectarianism, he sees nothing in it but\nabsurdity, it only proves that he does not see it all; it must have an\naspect, which he has not yet caught, that awes the imagination, or\ntouches the affections, or moves the conscience; and those who receive\nit neither will nor should abandon it, till something is substituted,\nnot only more consonant with the reason, but more awakening to these\nhigher faculties of soul. Hence, a rigid accuracy and logical\npenetration of mind, the power of detecting and exposing error, are not\nthe only qualities needed by the religious reformer; and in a deep and\nreverential sympathy with human feelings, a quick perception of the\ngreat and beautiful, a promptitude to cast himself into the minds of\nothers, and gaze through their eyes at the objects which they love, he\nwill find the instrument of the sublimest intellectual power. The\nprecise logician may sit eternally in the centre of his own circle of\ncorrect ideas, and preach demonstrably the folly of the world's\nsuperstitions; yet he will never affect the thoughts of any but\nmarble-minded beings like himself. He disregards the fine tissue of\nemotions that clings round the objects which he so harshly handles; and\nhas yet to learn the art of preserving its fabric unimpaired, while he\nenfolds within it something more worthy for it to foster and adore.\n\nAs, then, it is to the moral and imaginative powers of the human mind\nthat religion chiefly attaches itself, as it is by these that the want\nof it is most strongly felt, so is it to these that its ministrations\nshould be, for the most part, addressed. While theologians are\ndiscussing the evidences of creeds, let teachers be conducting them to\ntheir applications. Let their respective resources of feeling and\nconception be unfolded before the soul of mankind; let it be tried\nwhat mental energy they can inspire, what purity of moral perception\ninfuse, what dignity of principle erect, what toils of philanthropy\nsustain. Thus would arise a new criterion of judgment between\ndiffering systems; for that system must possess most truth which\ncreates the most intelligence and virtue. Thus would the deeper\ndevotional wants of society be no longer mocked by the privilege of\nchoice among a few captious, verbal, and precise forms of belief.\nThus, too, would the alienation which repels sect from sect give place\nto an incipient and growing sympathy; for when high intellect and\nexcellence approach and stand in meek homage beneath the cross, how\nsoon are the jarring voices of disputants hushed in the stillness of\nreverence! Who does not feel the refreshment, when some stream of\npure poetry, like Heber's, winds into the desert of theology! when\nsome flash of genius, like that of Chalmers, darts through its dull\natmosphere! some strains of eloquence, like those of Channing, float\nfrom a distance on its heavy silence!\n\nSuch, then, are the objects which should be contemplated by those who,\nin the present times, aim at the reformation of religious\nsentiment;--first, the elevation of theology as an intellectual\npursuit; secondly, the better application of religion as a moral\ninfluence. Both these objects are directly or indirectly promoted by\nthe Association whose cause I am privileged to advocate. It aids the\nfirst, by the distribution of many a work, the production of such\nminds as must redeem theology from contempt. It advances the second,\nby establishing union and sympathy among those whose first principles\nare in direct contradiction to all that is sectarian, and who desire\nonly to emancipate the understanding from all that enfeebles, and the\nheart from all that narrows it. The triumph of its doctrines would be,\nnot the ascendency of one sect, but the harmony of all. Let but the\ndiversities which separate Christians retire, and the truths which\nthey all profess to love advance to prominence, and, whatever may\nbecome of party names, our aims are fulfilled, and our satisfaction is\ncomplete. When faith in the paternity of God shall have kindled an\naffectionate and lofty devotion; when the vision of immortality,\nimparted by Christ's resurrection, shall have created that spirit of\nduty which was the holiest inspiration of his life; when the sincere\nrecognition of human brotherhood shall have supplanted all exclusive\ninstitutions, and banded society together under the vow of mutual aid\nand the hope of everlasting progress, our work will be done, our\nreward before us, and our little community of reformers lost in the\nwide fraternity of enlightened and benevolent men.\n\nThe day is yet distant, and can be won only by the toil of earnest and\nfaithful minds. In the mean while, it is no light solace to see that\nthe tendencies of Providence are towards its accelerated approach. And\nhowever dispiriting may sometimes be the variety and conflicts of\nhuman sentiment,--however remote the dissonance of controversy from\nthat harmony of will which would seem essential to perfected society,\nit is through this very process that the great ends of improvement are\nto be attained. Hereafter it will be seen, much more clearly than we\ncan see it now, that opinion generates knowledge. Like the ethereal\nwaves, whose inconceivable rapidity and number are said to impart the\nsensation of vision, the undulations of opinion are speeding on to\nproduce the perception of truth. They are the infinitely complex and\ndelicate movements of that universal Human Mind, whose quiescence is\ndarkness,--whose agitation, light.\n\nTo the fit and numerous readers whom we trust they will find, these\npapers are now submitted, in the earnest hope that the author will at\nno distant day follow them with some more systematic and rounded\nsurvey of the same great subject,--the components and developments of\nChristianity.\n\n      W. R. A.\n\n\n\n\nSTUDIES OF CHRISTIANITY.\n\n\n\n\nDISTINCTIVE TYPES OF CHRISTIANITY.\n\n\nIf unity be the character of truth, no generation was ever so far gone\nin errors as our own: nor is the weariness surprising, with which\nstatesmen and philosophers turn away from the Babel of Divinity, and, in\ndespair of scaling the heavens, apply themselves to found and adorn the\npolitics of this world. But the confusion of tongues is too positive and\nobtrusive a fact to be escaped by mere retreat: it bids defiance to\npolite evasion: it pursues life into every public place and private\nhaunt; invades the home, the school, the college, the court, the\nlegislature; and, besides the problems which it fails to solve,\nconstitutes in itself a new one, not undeserving the closest study and\nreflection. To the believers in doctrinal finality, who imagine the\nwhole sacred economy to be settled by a documentary revelation, the\nreopening of every question, down to the very basis of religious faith,\nmust be an appalling phenomenon, charging either failure on the presumed\ndesigns of God or a traitorous perversity on even the most gifted and\nupright of men. And not a whit better is the conclusion of a conceited\nilluminism, which, either boldly recalling the human mind to the\nsciences of induction, despises all faith as false alike; or, conscious\nat least of its own incompetency, pleases itself with a more indulgent\nscepticism, and accepts them all as true. If no better revenge can be\ntaken on pious dogmatism than by falling into the cant of an eclectic\nneutrality or an impious despair, there is little encouragement for any\nhigh-minded man to take part against the bigotries of the present on\nbehalf of sickly negations in the future. The world is better left in\nthe hands of the poorest interpreter of Paul, and most degenerate heirs\nof Augustine and Pascal, than transferred to the dialectic of Proclus or\nthe materialism of the living \"_Fondateur de la Religion de\nl'Humanit\u00e9_.\"[1] There are those, however, who deny that we are left to\nany such alternative; who cannot conceive that human aspirations after\ndivine reality shall for ever pine and sigh in vain; who contend that\nobjective truth in reference to morals and religion is attainable, and\nhas been largely attained;--and who, accordingly, despairing of neither\nphilosophy nor Christianity, require only the free intercommunion of the\ntwo to appreciate the contradictions of the present without foregoing\nthe hope of greater unity in the future. The controversies of the hour\nare but ill understood by one who remains enclosed within them, and\njudges them only on their own assumptions. Like a village brawl, which,\nwith only the sound of vulgar noise, may be the ripe fruit of oppression\nand the germ of revolution, they have an assigned place in the unfolding\nof modern civilization; and not till their place is computed in the life\nof the human race, and the law which brings them up in our age is\nobserved, can their real significance be apprehended, and all anger at\ntheir clamorous littleness be lost in hope of their ulterior issues.\nRegarded from this higher point, the surface of religious belief in\nEngland, at first sight a mere troubled fermentation of struggling\nelements, betrays some organic principle of order, and many salient\npoints of promise.\n\nWe hazard no theory of religion in saying that there is a natural\ncorrespondence between the genius of a people and the form of their\nbelief. Each mood of mind brings its own wants and aspirations, colors\nits own ideal, and interprets best that part of life and the universe\nwith which it is in sympathy. John Knox would have been misplaced in\nAthens, and Tanler could not have lived on the moralism of Kant. No\ndoubt the ultimate seat of human faith lies deep down below the special\npropensities of individuals or tribes,--in a consciousness and faculty\ncommon to the race. But ere it comes to the surface, and disengages\nitself in a concrete shape, its type and color will be affected by the\nstrata of thought and feeling through which it emerges into the light.\nWithout pretending to an exhaustive classification, we find four chief\ntemperaments of mind expressed in the theologies and scepticisms of\ncivilized Europe: the quest of physical _order_, the sense of _right_,\nthe instinct of _beauty_, and the consciousness of tempestuous\n_impulses_ carrying the will off its feet. Variously blended in the\ncharacters of average persons, these tendencies are liable to separate\ntheir intensities, and severally dominate almost alone in minds of great\nforce and periods of special action or reaction. Were each left to\nitself to form its own unaided creed, the doctrine of mere Science would\nbe _atheistic_; of Conscience, _theistic_; of Art, _pantheistic_; of\nPassion, _sacrificial_. The evidence of this distribution of tendencies\nis equally conclusive, whether we look to its rational ground or to its\nhistorical exemplification; and a few words on each head will suffice to\nclear and justify it.\n\nNotwithstanding some occasional attempts to exhibit natural theology as\na necessary extension of natural philosophy, it is plain that the\nmaxims, which are ultimate for physical Science, stop short of contact\nwith Religion; that the final appeal of the two is carried to different\nfaculties; and that the scope and sphere of the one may be complete\nwithout borrowing any conception from the other. The assumption, for\ninstance, that \"we can know nothing but _phenomena_,\" directly excludes\nall permanent and eternal Being as the possible object of rational\nthought. And as \"phenomena\" are apprehensible only by the _observing_\nfaculties, whatever refuses to put in an appearance in _their_ court is\nnonsuited as an unreality. And again, physical knowledge has\naccomplished its aim, as soon as it can predict all the successions that\nlie within its field of time and space; and nowhere in this system of\nseries, nor in the calculated forces which yield it to the view, does\nany divine _Person_ look in upon the mind. Whoever, by the restraints of\na hypothetical necessity, detains his intellect _within_ nature, debars\nhimself _ipso facto_ from any faith that _transcends_ nature, and\nrecognizes no reserve of _super_natural possibilities, hidden in a Mind\nof which the actual universe is but the finite expression. We do not, of\ncourse, intend to affirm that scientific culture cannot coexist with\nreligious belief;--so preposterous an assertion would be confuted by a\nmanifold experience;--but only that, where the canons of inductive\nknowledge are invested with unconditional universality, and are\nlogically carried out as valid for all thought, they shut the door upon\nthe sources of faith. It is the old battle, of which history supplies\nsuch abundant illustration; which brought Parmenides and Protagoras upon\nthe lists at opposite ends on the field of philosophy; which Bacon\nprofoundly avoided by assigning separate empires, without common\nboundary, to science and religion; but which his modern disciples have\nrashly renewed, by invading the realm left sacred by him. Uneasy\nrelations have always subsisted in Christendom between the investigators\nof nature and the trustees of the faith: the men of science rarely\nquitting, unless for signs of unequivocal aversion, the attitude of\npolite indifference to the Church; and in their turn watched with the\njealous eye of sacerdotal vigilance. It is no untrue instinct that has\nhitherto maintained them in this posture of mutual suspicion: to\nexchange which for a hearty and intelligent reverence for each other is\nan achievement reserved for a higher philosophy than we yet possess.\n\nAs Science pays homage to the _force of nature_, so Conscience\nenthrones the _law of right_. The conscious subject of moral\nobligation feels himself under a rule neither self-imposed and\nfictitious, nor foreign and coercive;--neither a home invention nor an\noutward necessity;--a rule invisible, authoritative, awful; carrying\nwith it an _alternative_ irreducible to the linear dynamics of the\nphysical world; incapable of being felt but by a free mind, or of\nbeing given but by another. He is aware that his will follows a call\nof duty not at all as his body adapts itself to the force of\ngravitation; and as within him the conscientious obedience wholly\ndiffers from the corporeal, so in the universe of realities beyond him\ndoes the moral legislation differ from the natural, and express the\nwill of a person, not a mere constitution of things. No ethical\nconceptions are possible at all,--except as floating shreds of\nunattached thought,--without a religious background; and the sense of\nresponsibility, the agony of shame, the inner reverence for justice,\nfirst find their meaning and vindication in a supreme holiness that\nrules the world. Nor can any one be penetrated with the distinction\nbetween right and wrong, without recognizing it as valid for all free\nbeings, and incapable of local or arbitrary change. His feeling\ninsists on its permanent recognition and omnipresent sway; and this\nunity in the Moral Law carries him to the unity of the Divine\nLegislator. Theism is thus the indispensable postulate of\nconscience,--its objective counterpart and justification, without\nwhich its inspirations would be illusions, and its veracities\nthemselves a lie. To adduce historical proofs of this conjunction is\nat once difficult and superfluous in a world whose theism is almost\nall of one stock. But it will not be forgotten that Socrates, in whom\nGreek religion culminated, avowedly based his reform on the\nsubstitution of moral for physical studies. It is undeniable too that,\nin spite of their fatalism, the monotheistic Mohammedans have been\nsurpassed by few nations in their sense of truth and fidelity; and\nthat wherever the same type of belief has been approached by Christian\nsects, the heresy has been said to arise from an exaggerated estimate\nof the moral law.\n\nArt, we have said, is _pantheistic_. Its aim, often unconsciously\npresent, is to read off the _expressiveness_ of things, and find what\nit is which they would speak with their silent look. To its\nperceptions, form, color, sound, motion, have a soul within them whose\nlife and activity they represent: and even language, by flinging\nitself into the mould of rhythm and music, acquires, beyond its\nlogical significance, a second meaning for the affections. As if waked\nup and tingling beneath the artist's loving gaze, matter lies dull\nand dead no more; opens on him a responding eye; communes with him\nfrom its steadfast brow; and becomes instinct with grace or majesty.\nInstead of being the drag-weight and opposite of spiritual energies,\nit becomes to him their pliant medium, the docile clay for the shapes\nof finest thought, the brilliant palette for the spread of inmost\nfeeling. He melts the barrier away that hides from mere sense and\nintellect the interior sentiment--the formative idea--of all visible\nthings; and his glance of sympathy changes them not less than a burst\nof amber sunrise changes a leaden landscape and picks out the freshest\nsmiles. Thus he finds himself in a _living_ universe, ever striving to\nshow him a divine beauty that lurks within and presses to the surface;\nand he stands before a curtain only half opaque, watching the lights\nand shadows thrown on it from behind by the ceaseless play of infinite\nthought. Not that the interpretation is by any means self-evident, or\naccessible except to the apprehensive instinct of sympathy. For it\nseems as though no form of being, no object in creation, could ever\nrepresent completely its own type: something is lost from its\nperfection in the realization; and the actual, falling short of the\nideal, can give it only to one for whom a hint suffices. This\nconception of the world as an incarnate divineness does not, we are\nwell aware, amount to pantheism, unless it become all-comprehensive,\nso as to take in not simply physical nature, but the human life and\nwill; and there are numbers who are saved from this extreme, either by\nknowing where to draw the lines of philosophical distinction, or by\nthe natural force of _moral_ conviction restraining the absolutism of\nimagination. But so far forth as the tendency operates, it substitutes\nfor the theistic reverence for a Holy _Will_ the pantheistic\nrecognition of a Creative _Beauty_, and presents God to the mind less\nas the prototype of Conscience than as the apotheosis of Genius. The\nspontaneity of poetic action is supposed to illustrate His procedure\nbetter than the preferential decisions of the moral sentiment; and the\ngenesis of whatever is good and fair is referred not so much to\ndeliberate plan as to the eternal interfusion and circulation,\nthrough the great whole, of a Divine Essence, which flings off the\nuniverse and its history as a mere natural language. That this is the\nreligion of art, is proved by the literature of every creative period,\nGreek, Italian, or Teutonic; and negatively by the comparative absence\nof artistic feeling and production in ages and nations that have most\nintensified at once the Unity and the Personality of God. Beauty was\nthe Bible of Athens; and Plato, its devoutest and most comprehensive\nexpounder, shows everywhere, in his metaphysics, his morals, and his\nmyths, the mould into which its faith inevitably falls.\n\nIn _passionate and impulsive_ natures there is a self-contradiction\nwhich makes their religious tendency peculiarly difficult to describe.\nThey are not less conscious than others of moral distinctions, and own\nthe sacred authority of the better invitation over the worse. Indeed,\nwhen surprised into a fall, their remorse shares the vehemence of all\ntheir emotions, and from the black shadow in which they sit, the\nsanctity of the law which they have violated looks ineffably bright;\nand they speak of its holy requirements, and of the infinite purity of\nthe Divine Legislator, in such fervid tone, that whatever else they\nmay endanger, the perfection of God's character, you feel assured, and\nthe obligations of human morality, are secure of reverential\nmaintenance. Yet the truth is precisely the reverse. At the very\nmoment that the law of duty is thus loftily extolled, it is on the\npoint of total subversion; lifted to a height precarious and unreal,\nit overbalances on the other side and disappears. For the very same\nstormy intensity which makes these men strong to feel the claim of\ngood, makes them weak to obey it. Their personality wants solidity;\nand an atmosphere of tempestuous affections sweeps over it like a\nhurricane on water. They can do nothing from out of their own\nresolves, and are for ever drawn or driven from the fortress they were\nnot to surrender. What remains for them, solicited thus by forces\nwhich are an overmatch for their just self-reliance? Is it surprising\nthat they no sooner confess how they _ought_ to obey, than they\ndeclare that they _cannot_ obey? The thing is a contradiction; but it\nall the better for this expresses what _they_ are: with their centre\nof gravity in the wrong place, they cannot but hold the truth in\nunstable equilibrium. Repose on contradiction is, however, impossible;\nand the necessary result of these co-existent feelings of obligation\nand incapacity is a _substitute_ for obedience. The resort to\n_sacrifice_ which thus arose expressed no more, prior to the Christian\nera, than the sentiment, \"Take this, O Lord, 't is all I have to\ngive\"; and afforded but a fictitious relief to the laboring spirit. It\nacknowledged and attested the incompetency of the will, but made no\nuse of the excess of the emotions. It was the Pauline doctrine of\nfaith which first turned this great power to account; and virtually\nsaid, \"Are you in slavery because you cannot manage your affections?\nturn their trust and enthusiasm on Christ in heaven, and let them\n_manage_ you, and you shall be free.\" The soul that falls in love with\nimmortal goodness rises above the region of ineffectual strife, and\nspontaneously offers what could never be extorted from the will by the\nlash of self-mortifying resolve. This is the truth which underlies the\nsacrificial doctrine in Christian times,--_the emancipating power of\ngreat trusts and high inspirations_; and its very nature indicates its\nbirth from impassioned temperaments, and its affinity with their\nspecial wants. The vicarious sacrifice is a mere plea, an ideal point\nof attraction, for a profound allegiance of heart; which minds of this\nclass would hardly yield without an intense appeal to their\n_gratitude_; but which, if really awakened by a clear and tranquil\nmoral reverence, would no less triumph over the gravitation of self.\nThe one needful condition for the redemption of these natures is the\nobjective presence and action upon them of a divine person to lift\nthem clear out of themselves, and render back on the healing breath of\ntrust the strength that only pants itself away in feverish effort.\nEvery doctrine of sacrifice necessarily contradicts its own premises;\nbecause for guilt, which is personal and inalienable, it offers a\ncompensation which is foreign, and meets a moral ill with an unmoral\nremedy. True and sound as a mere confession of weakness, it runs off\nfrom that point into mere confusion and morbidness. But add to it the\ndoctrine of faith, and it acquires its proper complement; balances its\nhuman disclaimer with a divine resource; and instead of sending its\ncaptive through dark labyrinths of vain experiment, opens a direct way\nfrom the chambers of humiliation to the prophet's watch-tower of\nprayer and vision. Without this complement, the doctrine created\npriesthoods; with it, destroys them. Without it, men are caught up in\ntheir moments of helplessness, and handed over to ritual quackeries;\nwith it, they are seized in their hour of inspiration, and flung into\nthe arms of God. The susceptibility for either treatment depends on\nthe predominance of impulse and passion over breadth of imagination\nand strength of will. In short, there are minds whose power is shed,\nif we may say so, in _pro_tension, precipitated forwards in narrow\nchannels with impetuous torrent. There are others whose affluence is\nin _ex_tension, and spreads out like a still lake to drink in light\nfrom the open sky, and reflect the look of wide-encircling hills. And\nthere are others yet again, whose character is _in_tension, and that\nmove on in full volume, and with steady stream of tendency, rising and\nfalling little with the seasons, and holding to the limits within\nwhich they are to go. The faith of the first is _sacrificial_; of the\nsecond, _pantheistic_; of the third, _theistic_.\n\nOf the four cardinal tendencies we have named, the _scientific_ has\nnever been provided for within the interior of Christianity; whose\norganic life and structure are complete without it. It remains,\ntherefore, sullenly on the outside, without renouncing at present its\natheistic propensions: and the part it has played, however important,\nhas been that of external check and antagonism, in the assertion of\nneglected rights of knowledge, and slighted interests of mankind. This\ncannot possibly continue for ever; nor is it at all consistent with\nexperience to suppose, that either of the opponent influences will\nobtain a victory over the other. Their reconcilement, through the\nmediation and within the compass of some third and more comprehensive\nconception, is a task remaining for the philosophy and charity of the\nfuture. We feel no doubt that it will be accomplished; and will spare us\nthat revolutionary extermination of theology and metaphysics which is\nproclaimed, on behalf of positive science, by the self-appointed\nCommittee of the \"R\u00e9publique Occidentale.\" The other three tendencies\nearly worked their way into the Christian religion, and vindicated a\nplace within its organism. Indeed, the historical genesis of the\nCatholic Church consists of little else, on the inner side of dogma and\nethics, than the successive and successful self-assertion of each of\nthese principles; and, on the outer side of ecclesiastical polity, than\nthe construction of a social framework which held them in co-existence\ntill the sixteenth century. The genius of three distinct peoples\nconspired to fill up the measure of the early faith; and each brought\nwith it a separate constituent. The Hebrew believer contributed his\ntheistic conscience; the Hellenic, his pantheistic speculation; the\nRomanic, his passionate appropriation of redemption by faith. The\nelements were, from the first, mixed and struggling together; so that\nthe phenomena of no period, probably of no place, serve to show them\ndisengaged from one another and insulated. But the Ebionitish period,\nwith its rigorous monachism, its historical and human Christ, its\nscrupulous asceticism, its sternness against wealth, represents the\n_ethical_ principle in its excess. The Logos idea, and indeed the whole\ndevelopment of the Trinitarian doctrine, exhibits the effort of the\n_Greek_ thought to obtain recognition, and qualify the Judaic. And the\n_Augustinian_ theology, pleading the wants of fervid natures, on whose\nsurface the web of moral doctrines alights only to be shrivelled and\ndisappear, completes the triad of agencies from whose confluence the\nfaith of Christendom arose. In the Catholic system the three ingredients\nunite in one composite result; and hence the tenacity with which that\nsystem keeps possession of the most various types of human character,\nand, baffled by the spirit of one age, returns with the reaction of\nanother. The ethical feeling finds satisfaction in its theory of human\nnature; the pantheistic, in its scheme of supernatural grace; the\nsacrificial, in its conditions of redemption. Through the realism of\nthe medi\u00e6val schools, its eucharistic doctrine, which is only the\ntheological side of that philosophical conception, becomes a direct\ntransfusion of Hellenic influence into the Church. And its faith in\nperpetual inspiration, in the unbroken chain of physical miracle, in the\nceaseless mingling of sacramental mystery with the very substance of\nthis world, so far softens and diffuses the concentrated personality of\nthe Divine Essence, as to indulge the free fancy of art. Nor can we deny\nthe same capacity of beauty to its hierarchy of holy natures,--from the\nvillage saint, through the heavenly angels, to the Son of God,--all\nblended in living sympathies that cross and recross the barriers of\nworlds. This comprehensive adaptation to the exigencies of mankind is a\nreasonable object of admiration. But nothing can be more absurd than the\nappeal to it in proof either of preternatural guidance, or of human\nartifice, in the constitutive process of the Roman Church. There is\nnothing very surprising in the fact, that a system which is the product\nof three factors should contain them all. No doubt if these factors are,\nas we contend, primary and indestructible features of our unperverted\nnature, no religion can be divine and completely true which refuses to\ntake any of them up; and this _one_ condition of the future faith we may\nlearn from the Christendom of the past. The condition, however, must be\nsatisfied otherwise than by the strange congeries of profound truths and\npuerile fancies which is dignified by the name of \"Catholic doctrine.\"\n\nFor, be it observed, this system has no intrinsic and necessary unity,\nwhich would hold it together when abandoned to the free action of the\nmind, whose requirements it is said to meet. It has something for\nconscience, something for art, something for passion, each in its\nturn; but it is not a whole that can satisfy all together. Its\ncontents, gathered by successive experiences, cohere through the\nexternal grasp of a sacerdotal corporation; and if that hand be\nparalyzed or relaxed, it becomes evident at once how little they have\ngrown together. Hence the phenomena of the sixteenth century, whose\nrevolt was the expression, not of theological dissent, but of\necclesiastical disgust; and in which doctrine only accidentally fell\nto pieces, because the authority that guarded and wielded it became\ntoo rotten to be believed in. The secondary revolution, however, was\nincomparably more momentous than the primary. The treasured seeds that\ndropped from the shattered casket of the Church had to germinate again\nin the fresh soil of the richer European mind; and the great year of\ntheir development is still upon its round. The outward dictation of\nthe Apostolic See being discarded, it became necessary to find another\nclew to divine truth; and the inner wants of the human soul and the\npassing age came into play, with no restraint within the ample scope\nof Scripture. A reconstitution of Christianity began,--on the basis,\nno doubt, of materials already accumulated,--more eclectic, therefore,\nand less creative, than in the infancy of the religion; but\nproceeding, nevertheless, by the same law, and commencing a similar\ncycle. The _order_ of development in this second life of Christendom\nhas not been the same as in the first; but the stages, though\ntransposed, do not differ taken one by one. It is only this,--that\nwhilst in the formation of the faith the dominant influences were\nConscience, Art, and Passion, in its Re-formation they are Passion,\nConscience, Art. At the moment when Luther shattered the fabric of\npretended unity, and compelled the husk to shed its kernels, the\nseason and the field were unfavorable to two out of the three, and\nthey lay dormant till more genial times. The _moral_ element had been\ndiscredited by the casuistry of the confessional, the \"treasure of the\nChurch,\" and the trade in meritorious works; and, decked in these vile\ntrappings, was flung away in generous disgust. The _\u00e6sthetic_ element\nhad become so paganized in Italy, and was so identified with the\nreproduction of the very tastes and vices, the thought and style, nay,\neven the mythology itself, which the primitive religion had expelled\nas the work of demons, that the new piety shrank from it, and let it\nalone. In an age when episcopates were won by an ear for hexameters or\na Ciceronian Latinity, when priests defended materialism in Tusculan\ndisputations, when popes frequented the comic theatre and Plautus was\nacted in the Vatican, when the proceeds of a purgatorial traffic were\nspent in destroying ancient basilicas and raising heathenish temples\nover the sepulchres of saints, it was inevitable that beauty should\nbecome suspected by sanctity. There remained, yet unspoiled by the\nadoption of a corrupt generation, the _impetuous_ devotion and\ntremendous theory of Augustine; and this, accordingly, was the\ndirection in which the whole early Reformation advanced. It was not\nthe accident that Luther was an Augustinian monk, which determined the\ncharacter of his movement. The sickened soul of Europe could breathe\nno other air. Emaciated with the mockery of spiritual aliment,\nrevolting at the chopped straw and apples of Sodom that had been given\nfor fruit from the tree of life, it sighed for escape from this\nchoking discipline into some region fresh with the mountain breath of\nfaith and love, and not quite barren of \"angels' food.\" The burdened\nmoral sense, so long deluded and abused, reduced to self-conscious\ndotage by vain penances and vainer promises, flung away all belief in\nitself, asked leave to lay its freedom down, and went into captivity\nto Christ. So exclusively did the feeling of the time flow into this\nchannel, that no doctrine which had an ethical groundwork, or\nattempted to soften in the least the implacable hostility of nature\nand grace, obtained any success; while every enthusiastic excess of\nthe anti-catholic ideas spread like wildfire. The irreproachable\ninnocence and piety of the Salzburg _G\u00e4rtner-br\u00fcder_ did nothing to\nsave them from quick martyrdom to their Ebionitish faith; while the\natrocities and ravings of the Anabaptists of M\u00fcnster scarcely sufficed\nto stop the triumph of their hideous kingdom of the saints. The\nmovement of the brave Zwingli, earlier and more moderate than either\nLuther's or Calvin's, was easily restrained by them within the\nnarrowest range, whilst the Genevan Reformer, cautious and ungenial,\nhad but to collect his logical fuel, and kindle the terrible fire of\nhis dogma, and it spread from the icy chambers of his own nature and\nwrapt whole kingdoms in its flames. That men without passion or\npathos themselves, who do their work by force of intellect and will,\nshould be successful disseminators of a doctrine that can live in no\ncool air, only shows how wide was the preparation of mind, and how the\ncoming of this time fulfilled the long desire of nations.\n\nThe first stage, then, of the new development of Christianity was its\n_Puritan_ period. The natural perdition of man, the radical corruption\nof his will, the religious indifference of all his states and actions,\nand the consequent worthlessness of his morality, except for civil\nuses and social police, constitute the fundamental assumptions of the\nsystem. From this basis of despair its doctrine of atonement comes to\nthe rescue. The obedience of Christ is accepted in place of that which\nmen cannot render, and his sacrifice instead of the penalty they\ndeserve. Not, however, for all, but for those alone who may\nappropriate the deliverance by an act of faith, and present the merits\nof Christ as their offering to God, with full assurance of their\nsufficiency. Nothing but a divine and involuntary conversion can\ngenerate this faith, which follows no predisposition from the\nantecedent life, but the inscrutable decree of Heaven. Once\ntransferred from the state of nature into that of grace, the disciple\nbecomes, through the Holy Spirit, a new creature; is conscious of a\nsacred revolution in his tastes and affections; gives evidence of this\nby good works, which, now purified in their principle, are no longer\nunacceptable to God; and knows that, though he is still liable to the\nsins, he is redeemed from the penalties, of a son of Adam. The Church\nis the body of the converted, and while the Sacrament of Baptism\ninitiates the candidate, and provisionally secures him, the Communion\nseals his adoption afterwards; the efficacy of both being conditional\non the inner faith of the participant. The intense and unmediated\nantithesis of nature and grace, and the gulf, impassable except by\nmiracle, between their two spheres, may be regarded as the most\ncharacteristic feature of this scheme. Its text-book contains the\nPauline Epistles, and opens most readily at the Romans or Galatians;\nand its favorite writers are Augustine, Luther, Calvin, and Edwards.\nWith vast internal differences in their particular conceptions of\nChristian truth and of ecclesiastical government, the so-called\nEvangelical sects retain the impress of their common origin in the\ndearth of any ethical or \u00e6sthetic element in their religion.\n\nFrom this alone must have resulted the fact which a plurality of\ncauses has concurred in producing; viz. that the Reformation soon\n(within a century and a half) reached its apparent limit of extent,\nand propagated itself only internally by further evolutions of\nthought. It had taken up and exhausted the class of minds to which it\nwas specially adapted; and after appropriating these, found itself\narrested. Under the impulse of a newly-awakened piety men are disposed\nto feel that they cannot attribute too much to God; and there will\nalways be large numbers who, from the absorbing intensity of religious\nsentiment, or the dominance of predestinarian theory, or the ill\nbalance of partial cultivation, abdicate all personal power of good in\nfavor of irreversible decrees. But as the tension relaxes or the\nculture enlarges, the moral instincts reassert their existence; and\nthe monstrous distortions incident to any theory which denies their\nauthority become too repulsive to be borne. Hence a reaction, in which\nthe natural conscience takes the lead, and insists on obtaining that\nreconciliation with God which has already been conquered for the\naffections. Men in whom the sense of right and wrong is deep cannot\ndivest themselves of reverence for it as authoritative and divine; nor\ncan they truly profess that it is to them an empty voice, which,\nvenerable as it sounds, they are never able to obey. They know what a\ndifference it makes to them, in the whole peace and power of their\nbeing, whether they are faithful or whether they are false; that this\ndifference belongs alike to their state of nature and their state of\ngrace; that it is as little possible to withhold admiration from the\nmagnanimity of the Pagan Socrates as from that of the Christian Paul;\nand that the sentiment which compels homage to both is the same that\nlooks up with trust and worship to the justice and holiness of God:\nhow, then, can they consent to draw an unreal line of impassable\nseparation between ethical qualities before conversion and the very\nsame qualities after, and abrogate in the one case the moral\ndistinctions which become valid in the other? The two lives,--of earth\nand heaven; the two minds,--human and divine; the two states,--nature\nand grace; which it is the impulse of enthusiasm to contrast, it is\nthe necessity of conscience to unite. When Luther first blew up the\nsacerdotal bridge which had given a path across to the steps of\ncenturies, the boldness of the deed and the inspiration of the time\nlightened the feet of men, and enabled them to spring over with him on\nthe wing of faith. But when the van had passed, and the more equable\nand disciplined ranks of another generation were brought to the brink,\nthere seemed a needless rashness in the attempt, and foundations were\ndiscovered for a structure based on the rock of nature, and making one\nprovince of both worlds. Even Melancthon, long as he yielded to his\nleader's more powerful will, could not permanently acquiesce in the\ncomplete extinction of human responsibility; and vindicated for the\nsoul a voluntary co-operation with divine grace. This semi-Pelagian\nexample rapidly spread; first among the later Lutherans, especially of\nBrunswick and Hanover; next into the school of Leyden; and finally\ninto the Church and universities of England. Quick to seize the\nreaction in the temper of the times, the Jesuits put themselves at the\nhead of the same tendency in their own communion; defended against the\nJansenists a doctrine of free-will beyond even the limits of Catholic\northodoxy; upheld Molina against Augustine, as among the Protestants\nEpiscopius was gaining upon Calvin. Among patriotic theologians the\nauthority of the Latin Church gave way in favor of the early Christian\napologists and Greek Fathers, who knew nothing of the scheme of\ndecrees. Divinity, under the guidance of More and Cudworth, no longer\ndisdained to replenish her oil and revive her flame from the lamp of\nAthenian philosophy. And the conception of a universal natural law was\nelaborately worked out by Grotius. As the sixteenth century was the\nperiod of dogmatic theology, the seventeenth was that of ethical\nphilosophy; the whole modern history of which lies mainly within that\nlimit and half a century lower; and conclusively attests the decline\nof a scheme of belief incompatible with the very existence of such a\nscience. When the Protestantism which had produced a Farel, a Beza,\nand a Whitgift, offered as its representatives Locke and Limborch,\nTillotson and Butler, the nature of the change which had come over it\ndeclares itself. It was the revolt of moral sentiment against a\ndoctrine that outraged it,--the re-development, under new conditions,\nof the ethical principle which had fallen neglected from the broken\nseed-vessel of the Catholic faith.\n\nThe second season of the Reformation, though treated now with\nunmerited disparagement, was not less worthy of admiration than the\nfirst. High-Churchmen may be ashamed of an archbishop who proposed a\nscheme of comprehension; Evangelicals, of a preacher who applauded the\nSocinians; and Coleridgians, of a theologian who was no deeper in\nmetaphysics than the \"Grotian divines\"; but neither the Erastianism,\nthe charity, nor the common sense of a Tillotson would be at all\nunsuitable at this moment to a church openly torn by dissensions and\nreally held together only by dependence on the state. It has been a\ncurrent opinion, perseveringly propagated by adherents of the Geneva\ntheology, that the spread of Arminian sentiments was equivalent to a\nreligious decline, and concurrent with the growth of a worldly laxity\nand selfish indifference of character. The allegation is absolutely\nfalse. In literature, in personal characteristics, and in public life,\nthe Latitude-men and their associates in belief bear honorable\ncomparison with their more rigorous forerunners. There is not only\nless of passionate intolerance, but a nobler freedom from an equivocal\nprudence, in the great writers of the second period, than in the\nReformers of the first: and there is more to touch the springs of\ndisinterestedness and elevation of mind in Cudworth and Clarke than in\nCalvin and Beza. Nor did the return of ethical theory weaken the\nsources of religious action. The very enterprises in which evangelical\nzeal most rejoices,--missions to the heathen, and the diffusion of\nthe Scriptures,--were not only prosecuted but set on foot in new\ndirections and with more powerful instrumentalities, in the very midst\nof this period, and by the very labors of its most distinguished\nphilosophers. The Society for the Diffusion of Christian Knowledge,\nand the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts,\nwere both born with the eighteenth century; and while the latter\naddressed itself to the natives and slaves of the American provinces,\nthe former first made the Scriptures known on the Coromandel coast. It\nwas Boyle who, of all men of his age, displayed the most generous zeal\nfor the multiplication of the sacred writings, himself procuring their\ntranslation into four or five languages. For thirty years he was\ngovernor of a missionary corporation. Yet the complexion of his\ntheology is sufficiently indicated by the fact that he bought up\nPococke's Arabic translation of Grotius (De Veritate Christian\u00e6\nReligionis), and was at the cost of its wide distribution in the East.\nAnd who that has ever read it can forget Swift's letter to the Irish\nviceroy (Lord Carteret), introducing Bishop Berkeley (then Dean of\nDerry), and his project for resigning his preferment at home in order\nthat, on a stipend of \u00a3100 a year, he might devote himself to the\nconversion of the American Indians? The imperturbable patience with\nwhich the good Dean prosecuted his object, the self-devotion with\nwhich he embarked in it his property and life, the gratefulness with\nwhich he accepted from the government the promise of a grant, and the\ntreachery which broke the promise, and after seven years compelled his\nreturn, make up a story unrivalled for its contrast of saintly\nsimplicity and ministerial bad faith. These and similar features of\nthe time superfluously refute the arbitrary and arrogant assumption,\nthat no piety can be living and profound except that which disbelieves\nall natural religion, no gospel holy which does not renounce the moral\nlaw, no faith prolific in works unless it begins with despising them.\n\nThere was, however, still a defect in this gospel of conscience.\nRegarding the world and life as the object of a divine administration,\nand seeking to interpret them by a scheme of final causes, it was wholly\noccupied with the conception of God as proposing to himself certain\nends, and arranging the means for their accomplishment. In this light He\nis a Being with moral preconceptions and an economy for bringing them to\npass. Everything is for a purpose, and subsists for the sake of what is\nulterior, and forms part of a mechanism working out a prescribed\nproblem. The tendency of this way of thinking will inevitably be, to\nhunt for providences. These the narrow mind will place in the incidents\nof individual life; the comprehensive intellect, in the laws and\nrelations of the universe; not perhaps in either case without some\ndanger from human egotism of referring too much to the good and ill\nwhich is relative to man. The infinite perfections of God will be\nconcentrated, so to speak, too much in the notion of His WILL, and the\npowers which subserve its designs; and will in consequence be as much\nmisapprehended as would be our own nature by an observer assuming that\nwe put forth all its life and phenomena _on purpose_. Indeed, the\nexclusive and unbalanced ascendency of the moral faculty tempts a man to\nfancy this sort of existence the only right one for himself; to suspect\nevery flow of unwatched feeling, and call himself to account for the\nburst of ringing laughter, or the surprise of sudden tears, and aim at\nan autocratic command of his own soul. It is not wonderful that his\nideal of human character should reappear in his representation of the\nDivine. The error deforms his faith as much as it tends to stiffen and\nconstrict his life. Leading him always to ask what a thing is _for_, it\nhinders him from seeing what it _is_; in search of the _motive_, he\nmisses the _look_; and his interest in it being transitive, he sinks\ninto it with no sympathy on its own account. This is only to say, in\nother words, that his prepossession detains him from the _artistic_\ncontemplation of objects and events; for while it is the business of\nscience to inquire their _origination_, and of morals to follow their\n_drift_, it remains for art to appreciate their _nature_. To feel the\ntype of thought which they express, to recognize the idea which they\ninvest with form, the mind must rest upon them, not as products or as\ninstruments, but as realities; and their significance must not be\nimposed upon them, but read off from them. The meaning which art detects\nin life and the world is not a purpose, but a sentiment; in its view the\npresent attitudes and development of things are rather the out-coming of\nan inner feeling than the tools of a remoter end. To find room for this\nmode of conception something must be added to the ethical representation\nof God. He must be regarded as not always and throughout engaged in\nprocesses of intention and volition, but as having, around this moral\ncentre, an infinite atmosphere of creative thought and affection, which,\nlike the native inspirations of a pure and sublime human soul,\nspontaneously flow out in forms of beauty, and movements of rhythm, and\na thousand aspects of divine expression. Religion demands the admission\nof this free element: and without it, will cease to speak home to men of\nsusceptible genius and poetic nature, and must limit itself more and\nmore to the fanatical minds that have too little regulation, and the\nmoral that have too much. A God who offers terms of communion only to\nthe passionate and to the conscientious, will not touch the springs of\nworship in perceptive and meditative men. _Their_ prayer is less to know\nthe published rules than to overhear the lonely whispers of the Eternal\nMind, to be at one with His immediate life in the universe, and to shape\nor sing into articulate utterance the silent inspirations of which all\nexistence is full. Their peculiar faculties supply them with other\ninterests than about their sins, their salvation, and their conscience;\nthey feel neither sufficiently guilty, nor sufficiently anxious to be\ngood, to make a religion out of the one consciousness or the other; but\nif, indeed, it be God that flashes on them in so many lights of solemn\nbeauty from the face of common things, that wipes off sometimes the\nsteams of custom from the window of the soul, and surprises it with a\npresence of tenderness and mystery,--if the tension of creative thought\nin themselves, which can rest in nothing imperfect, yet realize nothing\nperfect, be an unconscious aspiration towards Him,--then there is a way\nof access to their inner faith, and a temple pavement on which they will\nconsent to kneel. It is, we believe, the inability of Protestantism, in\neither of its previous forms, to meet this order of wants, that has\nreduced it to its state of weakness and discredit; and the struggle of\nthought, characteristic of the present century, is an unconscious\nattempt to supply the defect, and to vindicate, for the third element of\nCatholic Christianity, the possibility of development in the open air of\nProtestant belief. The change began, like both of the earlier ones, in\nGermany; and it was from Plato that Schleiermacher learned where the\nweakness of Christian dogma lay, and in what field of thought he might\ncreate a diversion from the disastrous assaults of French materialism,\nand restore the balance of the fight. An Hellenic spirit was infused\ninto the scientific theology of the Continent, and has never ceased to\nprevail there, though Aristotle has long succeeded to Plato as the\nchannel of influence. When Hegel, long the rival of Schleiermacher,\ntriumphed over him, not only in the coteries of Berlin, but in the\nschools of Germany, he no doubt turned the philosophy which had been\ninvoked to preserve the faith into a dialectic, at whose magic touch it\ndeliquesced; and no one who has followed the application of his\nprinciples to history and dogma can be surprised at the antipathy they\nawaken in the Church. But it would be a mistake to suppose that the step\ninto Pantheism was made by Hegel, and that the opposing theologians\nraised up by the great preacher of Berlin occupy in this respect any\ndifferent ground. Since the time of Jacobi theism proper has not been\nheard of in Germany: the very writers who _mean_ to defend it, surrender\nit in the disguise of their definition of personality; and so steeped is\nthe whole national mind in the colors of Hellenic thought, that from\nNeander to Strauss can be found, in our deliberate judgment, only\ndifferent shades of the same pantheistic conception. What does this\ndenote but a universal sigh after a God, who shall be neither a Jehovah,\na Judaic \u03b1\u03c5\u03c4\u03bf\u03ba\u03c1\u03b1\u03c4\u03c9\u03c1, nor a redeeming _Deus ex machin\u00e2_, supervening upon\nthe theatre of history, but a living and energizing Spirit, quickening\nthe very heart of to-day, and whispering round the dome of Herschel's\nsky not less than in the third story of Paul's heaven? In some this\nfeeling breaks out in devilish defiance, as in the unhappy Heinrich\nHeine's saying, \"I am no child, I do not want a Heavenly Father any\nmore\": in others it breathes out, as with Novalis, in a tender\nmysticism, and is traceable by the reverent footfall and uncovered head\nwith which they pace, as in a cathedral, the solemn aisles of life and\nnature. The expression of this tendency has passed into the literature\nof our own language, and every year is tinging it more and more with its\ncharacteristic hues. Emerson affords the purest and most unmixed\nexample; but perhaps the earlier writings of Carlyle,--before the divine\nthirst had advanced so much into a human _rabies_,--and more especially\nhis _Sartor Resartus_, may be taken as the real gospel of this\nsentiment. The intense operation of these essays, so entirely alien to\nthe traditions of English thought and taste, is an evidence of something\nmore than the genius of their authors: it is proof of a certain\ncombustible state of the English mind, prepared by drought and deadness\nto burst into the flame of this new worship. This feeling, diffused\nthrough the very air of the time, has unmistakably evinced its essential\nidentity with the instinct of art; in part, by a direct affluence and\nexcellence of production unknown to the preceding age, but still more,\nin the wide extension of an appreciating love for the creations of\nartistic genius. The melancholy prophets who see in this spreading\nsusceptibility only a morbid symptom of decadent civilization, are\nmisled, we hope, by imperfect historical parallels. The flower, no\ndoubt, both of Athenian and of Italian culture, was most brilliant just\nbefore it drooped. But the soil which bore it, and the elements that\nsurrounded it, had no essential resemblance to the conditions of modern\nEnglish society, in which, above all, there are the unexhausted juices\nof a moral faith and a strenuous habit, not stimulant perhaps of hasty\ngrowth, but giving hardihood against the open air and the natural\nseasons.\n\nBy the rules of technical theology, it may appear strange to reckon\nthe turn from theism to pantheism as a _third stage of the\nReformation_; as if it could be at all included in the interior\nhistory of Christianity, instead of being treated as a direct\napostasy. And it is in reality a very serious question, whether,\nwithout unfaithfulness to its essential character, the Christian\nreligion can domesticate within it this new action of thought, or must\nfrom the first visit it with unqualified excommunication. On the one\nhand, nothing can be more absurd than to suppose that a faith of\nHebrew origin, a faith whose very hypothesis is sin, and whose\naspiration is moral perfectness, can ever be reconciled with a\nthorough-going pantheism. On the other hand, nothing can be more\ngratuitous than to assume that the feeling which, on getting the whole\nmind to itself, generates a pantheistic scheme, has _no_ legitimate\nexercise, and gains its indulgence altogether at the expense of\nChristian truth. If we mistake not, the pith of the matter lies in a\nsmall compass. _Let Christian Theism keep Morals, and Pantheism may\nhave Nature._ This rule is no mere compromise or coalition of\nincongruous elements, but is founded, we are convinced, on\ndistinctions real and eternal. So long as a holy will is left to God,\nand a power committed to man, free to sustain relations of trust and\nresponsibility, room remains for all the conditions of Christianity,\nand the field beyond may be open to the range of mystic perception,\nand railed off for the sacrament of beauty. But whether this or any\nother be the just partition of territory between the two claimants,\npartition there must be, for the real truth of things must correspond,\nnot to the hypothesis of any single human faculty, but to harmonized\npostulates of all. It is not surprising that, on its first re-birth,\nthe gospel of nature should deny the gospel of duty, or so take it up\ninto its own fine essence as to volatilize all its substance away.\nThis is but the natural revenge taken for past neglect, and the\nneedful challenge to future attention. Each one of the three\ndevelopments has in its turn run out beyond the limits of the\nChristian faith, and yet, hitherto, each has established a place\nwithin it. The Hegelian, or Emersonian, type of the third period is\nbut the corresponding phenomenon to the Antinomianism of the first,\nand the Deism of the second. And as these have passed away, after\nsurrendering into the custody of Christendom the principles that gave\nthem strength, so will the Pantheism of to-day, when it has provided\nfor the safe-keeping of its charge, and seen the Church complete its\ntriad of Faith, Holiness, and Beauty.\n\nThis question, however, will be asked: If the Reformation only\nrepeats, with some transposition, the cycle of the primitive\ndevelopment, how are we the better for having thus to do our work\nagain? Are we to end where the sixteenth century began, and to\nreproduce the Catholicism which was then resolved into its elements?\nAnd does some fatal necessity doom us to this wearisome periodicity?\nNot in the least. However little the seeds may be able to transgress\nthe limits of species, and may remain indistinguishable from\nmillennium to millennium, the conditions of growth are so different as\npractically to cancel the identity in the result. Taken even one by\none, the modern forms of doctrine are far nobler than their early\nprototypes. The narrow Ebionitism of the original Church is not\ncomparable, as an expression of the conscience, with the moral\nphilosophy of Butler; and the Greek element of thought, flowing by\nBerlin, has entered the Church in deeper channels than when\ninfiltrating through the theosophy of Alexandria. It is only in\nrelation to the passionate element that the doubt can be raised,\nwhether we have gained in truth and grandeur by passing the religion\nof Augustine through the minds of the modern reformers; and whether\nthe Jansenists within the Church do not exhibit a higher phase of\ncharacter than the Huguenots without it. But at any rate, the modern\ndevelopment, taken as a whole, is secure of an inner unity and\ncompleteness which before has been unattained. It is an obvious, yet\nlittle noticed, consequence of the invention of printing, that no one\nmood of feeling or school of thought can tyrannize over a generation\nof mankind, and sweep all before it, as of old; and then again, with\nchange in the intellectual season, rot utterly away, and give place to\na successor no less absolute. Generations and ages now live in\npresence of each other; the impulse of the present is restrained by\nthe counsels of the past, and, in fighting for the throne of the human\nmind, finds it not only strong in living prepossession, but guarded by\nshadowy sentinels, encircled by a band of immortals. Hence the history\nof ideas can never be again so wayward and fitful as it was in the\nfirst centuries of our era; losing all interest at one period in the\nquestions which had maddened the preceding; for a time covered all\nover with the pale haze of Byzantine metaphysics, and then suffused\nwith red heats of African enthusiasm. New truth can no longer forget\nthe old, and thrive wholly at its expense, or even make a compact with\nit to take turn and turn about, but must find an organic relation with\nit, so as to be its enlargement rather than its rival. The modern\nmoralist already understands Augustine better than did the old\nPelagians; \"Evangelical\" teachers begin to insist on Christian ethics;\nand the increasing disposition, even in heterodox persons, to dwell on\nthe Incarnation as the central point of faith, shows how credible and\nwelcome becomes the notion of the union of human with divine, and of\nthe moral manifestation of God in the life and soul of man. The time,\nwe trust, is gone, for the merely linear advancement of the European\nmind, with all its action and reaction propagated downwards, and\nwasting centuries on phenomena that might co-exist. Henceforth it may\nopen out in all dimensions at once, and fill, as its own for ever, the\nwhole space of true thought into which its past increments have borne\nit. Sects, no doubt, and schools, will continue to arise on the\noutskirts of the intellectual realm, possessed by partial\ninspirations; but the world's centre of gravity will be more and more\noccupied by minds that can at once balance and retain these marginal\nexcesses, that can round off the sphere by inner force of reason, and,\ndispensing with the outer mould of sacerdotal compression, let the\ntides flow free, and the winds blow strong, without alarm for the\neternal harmony. This is the form in which nature will restore, and\nGod approve, a Catholic consent.\n\nThe idea we have endeavored to give of the genesis of Christian\ndoctrine, and the law of its vicissitudes, is offered only as\nconveniently distributing the subjective sources of faith. It cannot\nbe applied to the phenomena of particular countries apart from ample\nhistorical knowledge of the concurrent social and political\nconditions, without which the most accurate clews to the natural\nhistory of _thought_ can only mislead as the interpreter of concrete\n_events_. When, for instance, we look around us at home, and seek for\nthe English representatives of the several tendencies explained above,\nwe may, no doubt, find them here and there, but they are so far from\nexhausting the facts of our time, that some of the most conspicuous\nparties--as the Anglicans--seem provided with no place at all. The\nobscurity first begins to clear away when we remember that in England\n_Schism went before Reformation_. The aim of Henry VIII. was simply to\ndetach and nationalize the Church in his dominions; to give it insular\nintegrity instead of provincial dependence; and could this have been\ndone without meddling with the system of Catholic doctrine at all, the\nscheme of faith would have been preserved entire. While Luther and the\nContinental opponents of Rome were faithful to the idea of the unity\nof Christendom, and were calling out for a general council to restore\nit by a verdict on doubtful points of faith, the English monarch,\nundisturbed by doubt or scruple, broke off from Rome, and destroyed\nthe traditions of centralization by taking the ecclesiastic\njurisdiction into his own hands and stopping its passage of the seas.\nIn the new movement of the time, England tended to become a petty\npapacy, still unreformed; Europe sought a universal church reformed.\nNeither aim admitted of realization. To repudiate the supreme pontiff,\nand substitute a civil head, involved a fatal breach in the sacerdotal\nsystem, and carried with it inevitable departures from the integrity\nof Catholic dogma; so that reformation was found inseparable from\nschism. And when no council, acknowledged as universal, was called to\ngive authoritative settlement, arrangements _ad interim_ became\nconsolidated, provisional rights grew into prescriptive; with the\nspectacle of variety, and the taste of freedom, the idea of unity\nfaded away, till the co-existence of two churches within one land and\none Christendom passed into a necessity, and reformation proved\nimpossible without a schism. But, notwithstanding this partial\napproximation of the English and the Continental movements, the traces\nremain indelible that their point of departure was from opposite ends.\nIn its origin and earliest traditions, in the basis of its\nconstitution and worship, the Church of England has nothing whatever\nto do with Protestantism; it is but the Westminster Catholic Church\ninstead of the Roman Catholic Church. Authoritative doctrine,\nsacramental grace, sacerdotal mediation, are all retained; and\nthroughout the whole of Henry's reign, while the new laws were working\nthemselves into habits, the seven sacraments, the communion in one\nkind, the Ave Maria, the invocation of saints, with the doctrines of\ntransubstantiation and purgatory, remained within the circle of\nrecognized orthodoxy. The impelling and regulative idea of the whole\nchange was that of a nationalization of Catholicism. This original\nascendency of the national over the theological feeling was never\nlost; and though channels were more and more opened, through the\nsympathies of exiles and the intercourse of scholars, for the infusion\nof Continental notions, yet the form given to the Church rendered it\nnot very susceptible to the new learning; whose admission, so far as\nit took place, was rather induced by political conception than made in\nthe interests of universal truth. The present Anglicans represent the\nfirst type of the English _schism_; and the High Church in general\nembodies the distinguishing _national_ sentiment of the Reformation in\nthis country, as compared with the _cosmopolitan_ character of the\nContinental religious change. Doctrine is universal, administration\nand jurisdiction are local. Where the former becomes the bond of\nsympathy, as among the Evangelic Protestants, it unites men together\nby ties that are irrespective of the limits of country, and\nsubordinates special patriotisms to the interests of a more\ncomprehensive fraternity. Where the latter become the objects of\nzeal, a flavor of the soil mingles itself with the sentiments of\nhonor, and a peculiar loyalty concentrates itself on the inner circles\nof duty, often with the narrowest capacity of diffusion beyond. Hence\nthe intensely _English_ feeling which has always prevailed among the\nparochial--especially the rural--clergy of the Establishment, and the\npeople who form their congregations. They constitute the very core of\nour insular society, and the retaining centre of our historical\ncharacteristics. Their admirations, their prejudices, their virtues,\ntheir ambitions, are all national. Their interest in dogma is not\nintellectually active, or provocative of any proselyting zeal, and is\nsubservient to the practical aim of giving territorial action to the\nreligious institutions under their charge. Their dealings are less\nwith the individual's solitary soul, than with the several social\nclasses in their mutual relations; and to mediate between the gentry\nand the poor, to keep in order the school, the workhouse, and the\nvillage charities,--not forgetting the obligation to ward off\nMethodists and voluntaries,[2]--constitute the approved circle of\nclerical duties. Their very antipathies, unlike those of Protestant\nzealots, are less theological than political; they hate Roman\nCatholics chiefly as a sort of _foreigners_, who have no proper\nbusiness here, and Dissenters as a sort of _rebels_, who create\ndisturbance with their discontents; and were old England well rid of\nthem both, the heart of her citizenship, they believe, would be\nsounder. They stand, indeed, in a curious position, pledged to hold a\nproud Anglican isolation between two cosmopolitan interests,--the\nPopish theocracy and the Evangelical dogma,--refusing obedience to\nRome, yet declining the alliance of foreign Protestants. Their enmity\nto the Papal system is quite a different sentiment from that which\nanimates Exeter Hall; they do not deny the absolute legitimacy of the\nelder corporation in general, but only its relative legitimacy _here_;\nand Scottish ravings against it as \"Babylon\" and \"Antichrist\" offend\nthem more than the confessional and the mass. Twice in their\nhistory--under the Stuarts and in our own day--have they seemed to\nforget their destiny, and make overtures to the Vatican; in both\ninstances it was when Puritanism had threatened to take possession of\nthe Church, and reduce it to a federal member of an Evangelical\nalliance; and if its separate integrity were in peril, they had rather\nfling it back into the Apostolic monarchy, than enroll it in the\nGenevan league. But the first real sight of danger from the Papal side\nhas dissipated this reactionary inclination, and rekindled the\ninstinct of local independence. Thus, in our Church, ideal interests\nand purely religious conceptions have held the second place to a\npredominating nationalism. The Church has embodied and handed down the\nleading sentiment of the Tudor times; and though not guiltless of\nshare in many a Stuart treachery, and often cruel to the stiff-necked\nrecusant, has, on the whole, been true to the English feeling, that\nthe Pope was too great a priest, and Calvin too long a preacher.\n\nThe reason then is evident why the Church of England cannot be\nreferred to any of the heads of classification we have given; neither\ncoinciding with Romanism, nor exemplifying distinctively any of the\ntendencies springing successively out of the disintegration of\nCatholic dogma. It arose out of an ecclesiastical revolt; other\ncommunions, out of a theological aspiration. Its original conception\ninvolved no serious modification of belief, no invention or recovery\nof strange usages, but a mere separation of the island branch from the\nRoman stem, that it might strike root and be as a native tree of life.\nThe first alterations in doctrine were slight, and merely incidental\nto this primary end: and the whole amount of change, instead of being\ndetermined by the intellectual dictatorship of a Luther or a Calvin,\nwas the illogical result of social forces, seeking the equilibrium of\npractical compromise. The phenomenon therefore which we observed in\nthe elder Church is repeated in this younger offshoot: the several\nelements of faith co-exist (though in greatly spoiled proportions)\nwithout unity or natural coherence; and the English Church, as the\ndepository of a creed, occupies no place in the history of the human\nmind: its individual great men must be put here or there in the\nrecords of thought, without regard to the accident of their\necclesiastical position. The one real idea which has permanently\ninspired its clergy and supporters is that of _nationalism in\nreligion_. To the time of the Restoration they _attempted_, since then\nthey have _pretended_, to represent the nation in its faith and\nworship. Once, their aim appeared to be a noble possibility,\nstruggling still and unrealized, but unrefuted. Now, thousands of\nNon-conformist chapels proclaim its meaning gone, and its language an\naffectation and an insolence. The English Church has become an outer\nreality without an inner idea.\n\nIn contrast with the _insular_ feeling predominant in the English\nschism, we have placed the _cosmopolitan_ zeal of the foreign\nPuritanism. With this, however, was combined the very opposite pole\nof sentiment,--a certain _egoism_ and loneliness in religion, from\nwhich have flowed some of the most important characteristics of\nProtestantism. Having flung away, as miserable quackeries, the\nhierarchical prescriptions for souls oppressed with sin, Luther fell\nback upon an act of subjective faith in place of the Church's\nobjective works. For the corporation he substituted the individual:\nwhom he put in immediate, instead of mediate, relation with Christ and\nGod. The Catholic's unbloody sacrifice had no efficacy, no existence,\nwithout the priest; the Lutheran's bloody sacrifice was a realized\nhistorical fact, to be appropriated separately by every believer's\npersonal trust. It was not, therefore, the Church which, in its\ncorporate capacity, occupied the prior place, and held the deposit of\ndivine grace for distribution to its members; but it was the private\nperson that constituted the sacred unit, and a plurality of believers\nsupplied the factors of the Church. The grace which before could not\nreach the individual except by transit through accredited officials,\nnow became directly accessible to each soul: and only after it had\nbeen received by a sufficient number to form a society, did the\nconditions of spiritual office and organization exist. This essential\ndependence of the whole upon the parts, instead of the parts upon the\nwhole, is the most radical and powerful peculiarity of Protestantism.\nA system which raises the individual to the primary place of religious\nimportance, places him nearest to the supernatural energy of God, and\nmakes him the living stone without which temple and altar cannot be\nbuilt, naturally draws to it minds of marked vigor, and trains men in\nself-subsisting habits. By giving scope to the forces of private\ncharacter, it sets in action the real springs of healthy progress, and\nhappily with such intensity as to defy the checks it often seeks to\nimpose in later moods of repentant alarm. This emancipation of the\npersonal life from theocratic control, at first achieved in connection\nwith the doctrine of justification, was sure to present itself in\nother forms. In its _spiritual_ application Protestant egoism assumes\nthe shape of reliance on _inner faith_; in its _political_, of\n_voluntaryism_; in its _intellectual_, of free inquiry and _private\njudgment_. These several directions may be taken separately or\ntogether, but where, as in the Church of England, _not one_ of them is\nunambiguously marked, the very principle of reformed Christianity is\nunsecured, and Protestantism is present, not by charter, but by social\naccident. Puritanism everywhere--conforming or nonconforming, English\nor Continental--exhibits the first direction; \"Evangelical\" Dissenters\nadd the second; while Unitarians occupy the third,--not perhaps\ncompletely, and not altogether exclusively, but characteristically\nnevertheless. For it is impossible to unite the orthodox with the\nintellectual egoism. So long as the _inner faith_, which is the\npresumed condition of justification, includes a controverted doctrine,\nlike the scheme of Atonement, the need of faith imposes a limit on the\nright of judgment: and you are only free to think till you show\nsymptoms of thinking wrong. But when the sacrificial Christianity has\npassed into the ethical, and no other condition of harmony with God is\nlaid down than purity of affection and fidelity of will, then honest\nthought can peril no salvation, and the devotion of the intellect to\ntruth and the heart to grace is a divided allegiance no more.\n\nIt was for some time doubtful how far this Protestant egoism was\nlikely to go. Luther was clear and positive that it was faith that\njustified; and fetching this doctrine out of a deep personal\nexperience, he paid little respect to any one who contradicted it, and\nregulated by it his first choice of religious authorities. Led by this\nclew, he arrived at results strangely at variance with modern canons.\nHe neither accepted as a standard the whole Bible, nor at first\nrejected the whole tradition of the Church; loosely attempting to\nreserve the Augustinian authorities, and to repudiate the Dominican.\nWhen he had renounced altogether the appeal to councils and patristic\nlore, it was in favor, not of the external Scriptures, unconditionally\ntaken as the rule of faith, but of the private spirit of the Christian\nreader, who was himself \"made king and priest,\" and could not only\nfind the meaning, but pronounce upon the relative worth, of the\ncanonical books. Accordingly, the Reformer made very free with\nportions of the Old Testament, and with the more Judaic elements of\nthe New,--the Epistle to the Hebrews, that of James, and the\nApocalypse; and avowedly did this because he disliked the flavor of\ntheir doctrine, and felt its variance from the Pauline gospel. He thus\ntampered with his court before he brought forward his cause, and\nincapacitated the judges whose verdict he feared. In short, the\nreligious life of his own soul was too intense and powerful to be\nprevailed over by any written word: he appropriated what was\ncongenial, and threw away the rest. Uneasy relations were thus\nestablished between the subjective rule of faith found in the\nbeliever's own mind, and the objective standard of a documentary\nrevelation: they were soon constituted, and have ever since remained\nrival authorities, commanding the allegiance of different orders of\nminds. The vast majority of Protestants, of less profound and\ntumultuous inner life than Luther, and less knowing how to see their\nway through it, subsided into exclusive recognition of the sacred\nwritings; denying alike the regulative authority either of church\ncouncils or of the private soul. In every branch and derivative of the\nGenevan Reformation, throughout the whole range of both the Puritan\nand the Arminian Churches, a rigorous Scripturalism prevails; and the\nBible is used as a code or legislative text-book, which yields, on\nmere interpretation, verdicts without appeal on every subject, whether\ndoctrine or duty, of which it speaks. But Luther's spiritual\nenthusiasm kindled a fire that he scarce could quench; and while he\nhimself, flung into perpetual conflicts with opponents, was obliged\nmore and more to refer to evidence external to his personality, others\nhad learned from him to look upon their own souls as the theatre of\nconscious strife between heaven and hell, and to recognize the voice\nof inspiration there. Carlstadt was the first to catch the flame of\nhis teacher's burning experience, and, touched by prophetic\nconsciousness, to set the Spirit above the Word. Luther, so often\nrecalled from the tendencies of his own turbulent teaching by seeing\ntheir mischiefs realized in other men, instantly turned on Carlstadt\nwith his overwhelming scorn: \"The spirit of our new prophet flies very\nhigh indeed: 't is an audacious spirit, that would eat up the Holy\nGhost, feathers and all. 'The Bible?'--sneer these fellows,--'Bibel,\nBubel, Babel!' And not only do they reject the Bible thus\ncontemptuously, but they say they would reject God too, if he were not\nto visit them as he did his prophets.\" Carlstadt had got hold of a\ndoctrine that was too much for his ill-balanced mind, and Luther\neasily destroyed his repute. But a principle had been started which\nhas never been dormant since; the very principle which afterwards\nconstituted the Society of Friends, and finds its best exposition in\nthe writings of their admirable apologist, Barclay; and which in our\ntimes reappears in more philosophic guise, and fights its old battles\nagain as the doctrine of religious intuition. No period of awakened\nfaith and sentiment has been without some increasing tincture of this\npersuasion; and under modified forms, with more or less admixture of\nthe ordinary Puritan elements, it has played a great part among the\nQuietists in France, the Moravians in Germany, and the Methodists in\nEngland. In all these, far as they are from being committed to the\nnotion of an \"inner light,\" spiritualism has predominated over\nScripturalism, and permanent life in the Spirit has engaged the\naffections more than the transition into the adoption of faith.\n\nIn this endeavor to lay out the ground-plan of modern Christian\ndevelopment, and trace upon it the chief lines both of psychological and\nof historical distinction, our design is to prepare the way for a series\nof sketches exhibiting the sects and types of religion in England. It is\nscarcely possible to notice the phenomena present here and to-day\nwithout referring to their antecedents in a prior age, their\ncounterparts in other lands, and their permanent principles in human\nnature; and if our chart be tolerably correct, our future course will be\nrendered less indeterminate by the relations and points of comparison\nwhich have been established. The age, and even the hour, is teeming with\nnew interests and pregnant auguries in relation to the highest element\nof human well-being. From a desire to approach these in a temper of just\nand reverential appreciation, we have abstained from recording the first\nimpression of them, and sought rather, by a preliminary discipline, to\ndetect some criteria by which prejudices may be checked, tendencies be\nestimated, and criticism acquire a clew.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1] The title which Auguste Comte gives himself in his \"Catechisme\nPositiviste.\"--Preface, p. xl.\n\n[2] The zest with which this ecclesiastical garrison-duty is sometimes\nperformed, hardly comports with the traditional dignity of the Anglican\ngentleman and scholar. We remember an incident which occurred in a\nvillage situated among the hills of one of our northern dioceses. On a\nfine summer evening we had gone, at the close of the afternoon service,\nfor a stroll through the fields overlooking the valley. When we had\nwalked half a mile or so, an extraordinary din arose from the direction\nof the village, sounding like nothing human or instrumental, larynx,\ncatgut, or brass, though occasionally mingled with an undeniable note\nfrom some shouting Stentor. It was evident, through the trees, that a\ncrowd was collected on the village green; and not less so, that a farmer\nand his wife, who were looking on from a stile hard by, understood the\nmeaning of the scene below. On asking what all the hubbub was about, we\nwere told by the good woman: \"It's all of our parson, that's banging out\nthe Methody wi' the tae-board.\" Being curious in ecclesiastical\nresearches, we hastened down the hill, in spite of the repulsion of\nincreasing noise. On one side of the green was a deal table, from which\na field-preacher was holding forth with passionate but fruitless energy;\nfor on the other side, and at the back of the crowd, was the parochial\nman of God, who had issued from his parsonage, armed with its largest\ntea-tray and the hall-door key, and was battering off the Japan in the\nservice of orthodoxy. No military music could more effectually\nneutralize the shrieks of battle. The more the evangelist bellowed, the\nfaster went the parish gong. It was impossible to confute such a \"drum\necclesiastic.\" The man was not easily put down; but the triumph was\ncomplete; and the \"Methody's\" brass was fairly beaten out of the field\nby the Churchman's tin.\n\n\n\n\nCHRISTIANITY WITHOUT PRIEST AND WITHOUT RITUAL.\n\n    \"To whom coming, as unto a living stone, disallowed indeed of men,\n    but chosen of God, and precious; ye also, as lively stones, are\n    built up a spiritual house, a holy priesthood, to offer up spiritual\n    sacrifices, acceptable to God by Jesus Christ.\"--1 Peter ii. 4, 5.\n\n\nThe formation of human society, and the institution of priesthood,\nmust be referred to the same causes and the same date. The earliest\ncommunities of the world appear to have had their origin and their\ncement, not in any gregarious instinct, nor in mere social affections,\nmuch less in any prudential regard to the advantages of co-operation,\nbut in a binding religious sentiment, submitting to the same guidance,\nand expressing itself in the same worship. As no tie can be more\nstrong, so is none more primitive, than this agreement respecting what\nis holy and divine. In simple and patriarchal ages, indeed, when the\nfeelings of veneration had not been set aside by analysis into a\nlittle corner of the character, but spread themselves over the whole\nof life, and mixed it up with daily wonder, this bond comprised all\nthe forces that can suppress the selfish and disorganizing passions,\nand compact a multitude of men together. It was not, as at present, to\nhave simply the same _opinions_ (things of quite modern growth, the\nbrood of scepticism); but to have the same fathers, the same\ntradition, the same speech, the same land, the same foes, the same\npriest, the same God. Nothing did man fear, or trust, or love, or\ndesire, that did not belong, by some affinity, to his faith. Nor had\nhe any book to keep the precious deposit for him; and if he had, he\nwould never have thought of so frail a vehicle for so great a\ntreasure. It was more natural to put it into structures hollowed in\nthe fast mountain, or built of transplanted rocks which only a giant\nage could stir; and to tenant these with mighty hierarchies, who\nshould guard their sanctity, and, by an undying memory, make their\nmysteries eternal. Hence, the first humanizer of men was their\nworship; the first leaders of nations, the sacerdotal caste; the first\ntriumph of art, the colossal temple; the first effort to preserve an\nidea produced a record of something sacred; and the first civilization\nwas, as the last will be, the birth of religion.\n\nThe primitive aim of worship undoubtedly was, to act upon the\nsentiments of God; at first, by such natural and intelligible means as\nproduce favorable impressions on the mind of a fellow-man,--by\npresents and persuasion, and whatever is expressive of grateful and\nreverential affections. Abel, the first shepherd, offered the produce\nof his flock; Cain, the first farmer, the fruits of his land; and\nwhile devotion was so simple in its modes, every one would be his own\npontiff, and have his own altar. But soon, the parent would inevitably\nofficiate for his family; the patriarch, for his tribe. With the\nnatural forms dictated by present feelings, traditional methods would\nmingle their contributions from the past; postures and times, gestures\nand localities, once indifferent, would become consecrated by\nvenerable habit; and so long as their origin was unforgotten, they\nwould add to the significance, while they lessened the simplicity, of\nworship. Custom, however, being the growth of time, tends to a\ntyrannous and bewildering complexity: forms, originally natural, then\nsymbolical, end in being arbitrary; suggestive of nothing, except to\nthe initiated; yet, if connected with religion, so sanctified by the\nassociation, that it appears sacrilege to desist from their\nemployment; and when their meaning is lost, they assume their place,\nnot among empty gesticulations, but among the mystical signs by which\nearth communes with heaven. The vivid picture-writing of the early\nworship, filled with living attitudes, and sketched in the freshest\ncolors of emotion, explained itself to every eye, and was open to\nevery hand. To this succeeded a piety, which expressed itself in\nsymbolical figures, veiling it utterly from strangers, but\nintelligible and impressive still to the soul of national tradition.\nThis, however, passed again into a language of arbitrary characters,\nin which the herd of men saw sacredness without meaning; and the use\nof which must be consigned to a class separated for its study. Hence\nthe origin of the priest and his profession; the conservator of a\nworship no longer natural, but legendary and mystical; skilful enactor\nof rites that spake with silent gesticulation to the heavens;\ninterpreter of the wants of men into the divine language of the gods.\nNot till the powers above had ceased to hold familiar converse with\nthe earth, and in their distance had become deaf and dumb to the\ncommon tongue of men, did the mediating priest arise;--needed then to\nconduct the finger-speech of ceremony, whereby the desire of the\ncreature took shape before the eye of the Creator.\n\nObserve, then, the true idea of PRIEST and RITUAL. The Priest is the\nrepresentative of men before God; commissioned on behalf of human\nnature to intercede with the divine. He bears a message _upwards_,\nfrom earth to heaven; his people being below, his influence above. He\ntakes the fears of the weak, and the cries of the perishing, and sets\nthem with availing supplication before Him that is able to help. He\ntakes the sins and remorse of the guilty, and leaves them with\nexpiating tribute at the feet of the averted Deity. He guards the\navenues that lead from the mortal to the immortal, and without his\ninterposition the creature is cut off from his Creator. Without his\nmediation no transaction between them can take place, and the spirit\nof a man must live as an outlaw from the world invisible and holy.\nThere are means of propitiation which he alone has authority to\nemploy; powers of persuasion conceded to no other; a mystic access to\nthe springs of divine benignity, by outward rites which his\nmanipulation must consecrate, or forms of speech which his lips must\nrecommend. These ceremonies are the implements of his office and the\nsources of his power; the magic by which he is thought to gain\nadmission to the will above, and really wins rule over human counsels\nbelow. As they are supposed to change the relation of God to man, not\nby visible or natural operation, not (for example) by suggestion of\nnew thoughts, and excitement of new dispositions in the worshipper,\nbut by secret and mysterious agency, they are simply _spells_ of a\ndignified order. Were we then to speak with severe exactitude, we\nshould say, a Ritual is a system of consecrated charms; and the\nPriest, the great magician who dispenses them.\n\nSo long as any idea is retained of mystically efficacious rites,\nconsigned solely and authoritatively to certain hands, this definition\ncannot be escaped. The ceremonies may have rational instruction and\nnatural worship appended to them; and these additional elements may\ngive them a title to true respect. The order of men appointed to\nadminister them may have other offices and nobler duties to perform,\nrendering them, if faithful, worthy of a just and reverential\nattachment. But _in so far_ as, by an exclusive and unnatural\nefficacy, they bring about a changed relation between God and man, the\nRitual is an incantation, and the Priest is an enchanter.\n\nTo this sacerdotal devotion there necessarily attach certain\ncharacteristic sentiments, both moral and religious, which give it a\ndistinctive influence on human character, and adapt it to particular\nstages of civilization. It clearly severs the worshippers by one remove\nfrom God. He is a Being, external to them, distant from them, personally\nunapproachable by them; their thought must _travel_ to reach the\nAlmighty; they must look afar for the Most Holy; they dwell themselves\nwithin the finite, and must ask a foreign introduction to the Infinite.\nHe is not with them as a private guide, but in the remoter watch-towers\nof creation, as the public inspector of their life; not present for\nperpetual communion, but to be visited in absence by stated messages of\nform and prayer. And that God dwells in this cold and royal separation\ninduces the feeling, that man is too mean to touch him; that a\nconsecrated intervention is required, in order to part Deity from the\ndefiling contact of humanity. Why else am I restricted from unlimited\npersonal access to my Creator, and driven to another in my transactions\nwith him? And so, in this system, our nature appears in contrast, not in\nalliance, with the divine, and those views of it are favored which make\nthe opposition strong; its puny dimensions, its swift decadence, its\npoor self-flatteries, its degenerate virtues, its giant guilt, become\nfamiliar to the thought and lips; and life, cut off from sympathy with\nthe godlike, falls towards the level of melancholy, or the sink of\nepicurism, or the abjectness of vicarious reliance on the priest.\nWorship, too, must have for its chief aim, to throw off the load of ill;\nto rid the mind of sin and shame, and the lot of hardship and sorrow;\nfor principally to these disburdening offices do priests and rituals\nprofess themselves adapted;--and who, indeed, could pour forth the\nprivacy of love, and peace, and trust, through the cumbrousness of\nceremonies, and the pompousness of a sacred officer? The piety of such a\nreligion is thus a refuge for the weakness, not an outpouring of the\nstrength, of the soul: it takes away the incubus of darkness, without\nshedding the light of heaven; lifts off the nightmare horrors of earth\nand hell, without opening the vision of angels and of God. Nay, for the\nspiritual bonds which connect men with the Father above, it substitutes\nmaterial ties, a genealogy of sacred fires, a succession of hallowed\nbuildings, or of priests having consecration by pedigree or by manual\ntransmission; so that qualities belonging to the soul alone are likened\nto forces mechanical or chemical; sanctity becomes a physical property;\ndivine acceptance comes by bodily catenation; regeneration is degraded\ninto a species of electric shock, which one only method of experiment,\nand the links of but one conductor, can convey. And, in fine, a priestly\nsystem ever abjures all aim at any higher perfection; boasts of being\nimmutable and unimprovable; encourages no ambition, breathes no desire.\nIt holds the appointed methods of influencing Heaven, on which none may\npresume to innovate; and its functions are ever the same, to employ and\npreserve the ancient forms and legendary spells committed to its trust.\nHence all its veneration is antiquarian, not sympathetic or prospective;\nit turns its back upon the living, and looks straight into departed\nages, bowing the head and bending the knee; as if all objects of love\nand devotion were _there_, not here; in history, not in life; as if its\nGod were dead, or otherwise imprisoned in the Past, and had bequeathed\nto its keeping such relics as might yield a perpetual benediction. Thus\ndoes the administration of religion, in proportion as it possesses a\nsacerdotal character, involve a distant Deity, a mean humanity, a\nservile worship, a physical sanctity, and a retrospective reverence.\n\nLet no one, however, imagine that there is no other idea or\nadministration of religion than this; that the priest is the only\nperson among men to whom it is given to stand between heaven and\nearth. Even the Hebrew Scriptures introduce us to another class of\nquite different order; to whom, indeed, those Scriptures owe their own\ntruth and power, and perpetuity of beauty: I mean the PROPHETS; whom\nwe shall very imperfectly understand, if we suppose them mere\nhistorians, for whom God had turned time round the other way, so that\nthey spoke of things future as if past, and grew so dizzy in their use\nof tenses, as greatly to incommode learned grammarians; or if we treat\ntheir writings as scrap-books of Providence, with miscellaneous\ncontributions from various parts of duration, sketches taken\nindifferently from any point of view within eternity, and put together\nat random and without mark, on adjacent pages, for theological\nmemories to identify; first, a picture of an Assyrian battle, next, a\nholy family; now, of the captives sitting by Euphrates, then, of Paul\npreaching to the Gentiles; here, a flight of devouring locusts, and\nthere, the escape of the Christians from the destruction of Jerusalem;\na portrait of Hezekiah, and a view of Calvary; a march through the\ndesert, and John the Baptist by the Jordan; the day of Pentecost, and\nthe French Revolution; Nebuchadnezzar and Mahomet; Caligula and the\nPope,--following each other with picturesque neglect of every relation\nof time and place. No, the Prophet and his work always indeed belong\nto the future; but far otherwise than thus. Meanwhile, let us notice\nhow, in Israel, as elsewhere, he takes his natural station above the\npriest. It was Moses the prophet who even _made_ Aaron the priest. And\nwho cares now for the sacerdotal books of the Old Testament, compared\nwith the rest? Who, having the strains of David, would pore over\nLeviticus, or would weary himself with Chronicles, when he might catch\nthe inspiration of Isaiah? It was no priest that wrote, \"Thou desirest\nnot sacrifice, else would I give it; thou delightest not in\nburnt-offering: the sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken\nand a contrite heart, O God, thou wilt not despise.\" It was no\npontifical spirit that exclaimed, \"Bring no more vain oblations;\nincense is an abomination to me; the new moons and sabbaths, the\ncalling of assemblies, I cannot away with; it is iniquity, even the\nsolemn meeting: your new moons and your appointed feasts my soul\nhateth; they are a trouble unto me; I am weary to bear them.\" \"Wash\nyou, make you clean.\" Whatever in these venerable Scriptures awes us\nby its grandeur and pierces us by its truth, comes of the prophets,\nnot the priests; and from that part of their writings, too, in which\nthey are not concerned with historical prediction, but with some\nutterance deeper and greater. I do not deny them this gift of\noccasional intellectual foresight of events. And doubtless it was an\nhonor to be permitted to speak thus to a portion of the future, and of\nlocal occurrences unrevealed to seers less privileged. But it is a\nglory far higher to speak that which belongs to all time, and finds\nits interpretation in every place; to penetrate to the everlasting\nrealities of things; to disclose, not when this or that man will\nappear, but how and wherefore all men appear and quickly disappear; to\nmake it felt, not in what nook of duration such an incident will\nhappen, but from what all-embracing eternity the images of history\nemerge and are swallowed up. In this highest faculty the Hebrew seers\nbelong to a class scattered over every nation and every period; which\nProvidence keeps ever extant for human good, and especially to furnish\nan administration of religion quite anti-sacerdotal. This class we\nmust proceed to characterize.\n\nThe Prophet is the representative of God before men, commissioned from\nthe Divine nature to sanctify the human. He bears a message\n_downwards_, from heaven to earth; his inspirer being above, his\ninfluence below. He takes of the holiness of God, enters with it into\nthe souls of men, and heals therewith the wounds, and purifies the\ntaint, of sin. He is charged with the peace of God, and gives from it\nrest to the weariness and solace to the griefs of men. Instead of\ncarrying the foulness of life to be cleansed in heaven, he brings the\npurity of heaven to make life divine. Instead of interposing himself\nand his mediation between humanity and Deity, he destroys the whole\ndistance between them; and only fulfils his mission, when he brings\nthe finite mind and the infinite into immediate and thrilling contact,\nand leaves the creature consciously alone with the Creator. He is one\nto whom the primitive and everlasting relations between God and man\nhave revealed themselves, stripped of every disguise, and bared of all\nthat is conventional; who is possessed by their simplicity, mastered\nby their solemnity; who has found the secret of meeting the Holy\nSpirit within, rather than without; and knows, but cannot tell, how,\nin the strife of genuine duty, or in moments of true meditation, the\nDivine immensity and love have touched and filled his naked soul; and\ntaught him by what fathomless Godhead he is folded round, and on what\nadamantine manhood he must take his stand. So far from separating\nothers from the heavenly communion vouchsafed to himself, he\nnecessarily believes that all may have the same godlike consciousness;\nburns to impart it to them; and by the vivid light of his own faith\nspeedily creates it in those who feel his influence, drawing out and\nfreshening the faded colors of the Divine image in their souls, till\nthey too become visibly the seers and the sons of God. His\ninstruments, like the objects of his mission, are human; not\nmysteries, and mummeries, and such arbitrary things, by which others\nmay pretend to be talking with the skies; but the natural language\nwhich interprets itself at once to every genuine man, and goes direct\nto the living point of every heart. An earnest speech, a brave and\nholy life, truth of sympathy, severity of conscience, freshness and\nloftiness of faith,--these natural sanctities are his implements of\npower; and if heaven be pleased to add any other gifts, still are they\nweapons all,--not the mere tinsel of tradition and custom,--but forged\nin the inner workshop of our nature, where the fire glows beneath the\nbreath of God, framing things of ethereal temper. Thus armed, he lays\nundoubting siege to the world's conscience; tears down every outwork\nof pretence; forces its strong-holds of delusion; humbles the vanities\nat its centre, and proclaims it the citadel of God. The true prophet\nof every age is no believer in the temple, but in the temple's Deity;\ntrusts, not rites and institutions, but the heart and soul that fill\nor ought to fill them; if they speak the truth, no one so reveres\nthem; if a lie, they meet with no contempt like his. He sees no\nindestructible sanctuary but the mind itself, wherein the Divine\nSpirit ever loves to dwell; and whence it will be sure to go forth and\nbuild such outward temple as may suit the season of Providence. He is\nconscious that there is no devotion like that which comes\nspontaneously from the secret places of our humanity, no orisons so\ntrue as those which rise from the common platform of our life. He\ndesires only to throw himself in faith on the natural piety of the\nheart. Give him but that, and he will find for man an everlasting\nworship, and raise for God a cathedral worthy of his infinitude.\n\nIt is evident that one thoroughly possessed with this spirit could never\nbe, and could never make, a priest; nor frame a ritual for priests\nalready made. He is destitute of the ideas out of which alone these\nthings can be created. His mission is in the opposite direction: he\ninterprets and reveals God to men, instead of interceding for men with\nGod. In this office sacerdotal rites have no function and no place. I do\nnot say that he must necessarily disapprove and abjure them, or deny\nthat he may directly sanction them. If he does, however, it is not in\nhis capacity of prophet, but in conformity with feelings which his\nproper office has left untouched. His tendency will be against\nceremonialism; and on his age and position will depend the extent to\nwhich this tendency takes effect. Usually he will construct nothing\nritual, will destroy much, and leave behind great and growing ideas,\ndestructive of much more. But ere we quit our general conception of a\nprophet, let us notice some characteristic sentiments, moral and\nreligious, which naturally connect themselves with his faith; comparing\nthem with those which belong to the sacerdotal influence.\n\nIn this faith, God is separated by nothing from his worshippers. He is\nnot simply in contact with them, but truly in the interior of their\nnature; so that they may not only meet him in the outward providences\nof life, but bear his spirit with them, when they go to toil and\nconflict, and find it still, when they sit alone to think and pray. He\nis not the far observer, but the very present help, of the faithful\nwill. No structure made with hands, nay, not even his own architecture\nof the heaven of heavens, contains and confines his presence: were\nthere any dark recess whence these were hid, the blessed access would\nbe without hinderance still; and the soul would discern him near as\nits own identity. No mean and ignoble conception can be entertained of\na mind which is thus the residence of Deity;--the shrine of the\nInfinite must have somewhat that is infinite itself. Thus, in this\nsystem, does our nature appear in alliance with the Divine, not in\ncontrast with it; inspired with a portion of its holiness, and free to\nhelp forward the best issues of its providence. Human life, blessed by\nthis spirit, becomes a miniature of the work of the great Ruler: its\nresponsibilities, its difficulties, its temptations, become dignified\nas the glorious theatre whereon we strive, by and with the good Spirit\nof God, for the mastery over evil. Worship, issuing from a nature and\nexistence thus consecrated, is not the casting off of guilt and\nterror, but the glad unburdening of love, and trust, and aspiration,\nthe simple speaking forth, as duty is the acting forth, of the divine\nwithin us; not the prostration of the slave, but the embrace of the\nchild; not the plaint of the abject, but the anthem of the free. Is it\nnot private, individual? And may it not by silence say what it will,\nand intimate the precise thing, and that only, which is at\nheart?--whence there grows insensibly that firm root of excellence,\ntruth with one's own self. The priestly fancy of an hereditary or\nlineal sacredness can have no place here. The soul and God stand\ndirectly related, mind with mind, spirit with spirit: from our moral\nfidelity to this relation, from the jealousy with which we guard it\nfrom insult or neglect, does the only sanctity arise; and herein there\nis none to help us, or give a vicarious consecration. And, finally,\nthe spirit of God's true prophet is earnestly prospective; more filled\nwith the conception of what the Creator _will_ make his world, than of\nwhat he _has_ already made it: detecting great capacities, it glows\nwith great hopes; knowing that God lives, and will live, it turns from\nthe past, venerable as that may be, and reverences rather the promise\nof the present, and the glories of the future. It esteems nothing\nunimprovable, is replete with vast desires; and amid the shadows and\nacross the wilds of existence chases, not vainly, a bright image of\nperfection. The golden age, which priests with their tradition put\ninto the past, the prophet, with his faith and truth, transfers into\nthe future; and while the former pines and muses, the latter toils and\nprays. Thus does the administration of religion, in proportion as it\npartakes of the prophetic or anti-sacerdotal character, involve the\nideas of an interior Deity, a noble humanity, a loving worship, an\nindividual holiness, and a prospective veneration.\n\nWe have found, then, two opposite views of religion: that of the\nPriest with his Ritual, and that of the Prophet with his Faith. I\npropose to show that the Church of England, in its doctrine of\nsacraments, coincides with the former of these, and sanctions all its\nobjectionable sentiments; and that Christianity, in every relation,\neven with respect to its reputed rites, coincides with the latter.\n\nThe general conformity of the Church of England with the ritual\nconception of religion will not be denied by her own members. Their\ndenial will be limited to one point: they will protest that her formulas\nof doctrine do not ascribe a _charmed efficacy_, or any operation upon\nGod, to the two sacraments. To avoid verbal disputes, let us consider\nwhat we are to understand by a spell or charm. The name, I apprehend,\ndenotes any material object or outward act, the possession or use of\nwhich is thought to confer safety or blessing, not by natural operation,\nbut by occult virtues inherent in it, or mystical effects appended to\nit. A mere commemorative sign, therefore, is not a charm, nor need there\nbe any superstition in its employment: it simply stands for certain\nideas and memories in our minds; re-excites and freshens them, not\notherwise than speech audibly records them, except that it summons them\nbefore us by sight and touch, instead of sound. The effect, whatever it\nmay be, is purely natural, by sequence of thought on thought, till the\ncomplexion of the mind is changed, and haply suffused with a noble glow.\nBut in truth it is not fit to speak of commemorations, as things having\nefficacy at all; as desirable observances, under whose action we should\nput ourselves, in order to get up certain good dispositions in the\nheart. As soon as we see them acquiesced in, with this dutiful\nsubmission to a kind of spiritual operation, we may be sure they are\nalready empty and dead. An _expedient_ commemoration, deliberately\nmaintained on utilitarian principles, for the sake of warming cold\naffections by artificial heat, is one of the foolish conceptions of this\nmechanical and sceptical age. It is quite true, that such influence is\nfound to belong to rites of remembrance; but only so long as it is not\nprivately looked into, or greedily contemplated by the staring eye of\nprudence, but simply and unconsciously received. No; commemorations must\nbe the spontaneous fruit and outburst of a love already kindled in the\nsoul, not the factitious contrivance for forcing it into existence. They\nare not the lighted match applied to the fuel on an altar cold; but the\nshapes in which the living flame aspires, or the fretted lights thrown\nby that central love on the dark temple-walls of this material life.\n\nIt is not pretended that the sacraments are mere commemorative rites.\nAnd nothing, I submit, remains, but that they should be pronounced\ncharms. It is of little purpose to urge, in denial of this, that the\nChurch insists upon the necessity of faith on the part of the\nrecipient, without which no benefit, but rather peril, will accrue.\nThis only limits the use of the charm to a certain class, and\nestablishes a prerequisite to its proper efficacy. It simply conjoins\nthe outward form with a certain state of mind, and gives to each of\nthese a participation in the effect. If the faith be insufficient\nwithout the ceremony, then _some_ efficacy is due to the rite; and\nthis, being neither the natural operation of the material elements,\nnor a simple suggestion of ideas and feelings to the mind, but\nmystical and preternatural, is no other than a charmed efficacy.\n\nNor will the statement, that the effect is not upon God, but upon man,\nbear examination. It is very true, that the _ultimate_ benefit of these\nrites is a result reputed to fall upon the worshipper;--regeneration, in\nthe case of baptism; participation in the atonement, in the case of the\nLord's Supper. But by what steps do these blessings descend? Not by\nthose of visible or perceived causation; but through an express and\nextraordinary volition of God, induced by the ceremonial form, or taking\noccasion from it. The sacerdotal economy, therefore, is so arranged,\nthat, whenever the priest dispenses the water at the font, the Holy\nSpirit follows, as in instantaneous compliance with a suggestion; and\nwhenever he spreads his hands over the elements at the communion, God\nimmediately establishes a preternatural relation, not subsisting the\nmoment before, between the substances on the table and the souls of the\nfaithful communicants: so that every partaker receives, either directly\nor through supernatural increase of faith, some new share in the merits\nof the cross. Whatever subtleties of language then may be employed, it\nis evidently conceived that the first consequence of these forms takes\nplace in heaven; and that on this depends whatever benediction they may\nbring: nor can a plain understanding frame any other idea of them than\nthis; first, they act upwards, and suggest something to the mind of God,\nwho then sends down an influence on the mind of the believer. From this\nconception no figures of speech, no ingenious analogies, can deliver us.\nDo you call the sacraments \"pledges of grace\"? A pledge means a promise;\nand how a voluntary act of ours, or the priest's, can be a promise made\nto us by the Divine Being, it is not easy to understand. Do you call\nthem \"seals of God's covenant,\"--the instrument by which he engages to\nmake over its blessings to the Christian, like the signature and\ncompletion of a deed conveying an estate? It still perplexes us to think\nof a service of our own as an assurance received by us from Heaven. And\none would imagine that the Divine promise, once given, were enough,\nwithout this incessant binding by periodical legalities. If it be said,\n\"The renewal of the obligation is needful for us, and not for him\"; then\ncall the rites at once and simply, our service of self-dedication, the\nsolemn memorial of our vows. And in spite of all metaphors, the question\nrecurs, Does the covenant stand without these seals, or are they\nessential _to give possession_ of the privileges conveyed? Are they, by\nmeans preternatural, procurers of salvation? Have they a mystical action\ntowards this end? If so, we return to the same point; they have a\ncharmed efficacy on the human soul.\n\nIn order to establish this, nothing more is requisite than a brief\nreference to the language of the Articles and Liturgical services of\nthe Church respecting Baptism and the Communion.\n\nBaptism is regarded, throughout the Book of Common Prayer, as the\ninstrument of regeneration: not simply as its sign, of which the\nactual descent of the Holy Spirit is independent; but as itself and\nessentially the means or indispensable occasion of the washing away of\nsin. That this is regarded as a mystical and magical, not a natural\nand spiritual effect, is evident from the alleged fact of its\noccurrence in infants, to whom the rite can suggest nothing, and on\nwhom, in the course of nature, it can leave no impression. Yet it is\ndeclared of the infant, after the use of the water, \"Seeing now,\ndearly beloved brethren, that _this child is regenerate_,\" &c.: at the\ncommencement of the service its aim is said to be that God may \"grant\nto this child that thing which by nature he cannot have,\"--\"would wash\nhim and sanctify him with the Holy Ghost,\" that he may be \"delivered\nfrom God's wrath.\" Nothing, indeed, is so striking in this office of\nthe national Church, as its audacious trifling with solemn names,\ndenoting qualities of the soul and will; the ascription of spiritual\nand moral attributes, not only to the child in whom they can yet have\nno development, but even to material substances; the frivolity with\nwhich engagements with God are made by deputy, and without the consent\nor even existence of the engaging will. Water is said to possess\n_sanctity_, for \"the mystical washing away of sin.\" Infants, destitute\nof any idea of duty or obligation to be resisted or obeyed, are said\nto obtain \"_remission of their sins_\";--to \"renounce the Devil and all\nhis works, the vain pomp and glory of the world\"; \"steadfastly to\nbelieve\" in the Apostles' Creed, and to be desirous of \"baptism into\nthis faith.\" Belief, desire, resolve, are acts of some one's mind: the\nlanguage of this service attributes them to the personality of the\ninfant (_I_ renounce, _I_ believe, _I_ desire); yet there they cannot\npossibly exist. If they are to be understood as affirmed by the\ngodfathers and godmothers of themselves, the case is not improved: for\nhow can one person's state of faith and conscience be made the\ncondition of the regeneration of another? What intelligible meaning\ncan be attached to these phrases of sanctity applied to an age not\nresponsible? In what sense, and by what indication, are these children\n_holier_ than others? And with what reason, if all this be\nChristianity, can we blame the Pope for sprinkling holy water on the\nhorses? The service appears little better than a profane sacerdotal\njugglery, by which material things are impregnated with divine\nvirtues, moral and spiritual qualities of the mind are sported with,\nthe holy spirit of God is turned into a physical mystery, and the\nsolemnity of personal responsibility is insulted.\n\nThat a superstitious value is attributed to the details of the\nbaptismal form, in the Church of England, appears from certain parts\nof the service for the private ministration of the rite. If a child\nhas been baptized by any other lawful minister than the minister of\nthe parish, strict inquiries are to be instituted by the latter\nrespecting the correctness with which the ceremony has been performed;\nand should the prescribed rules have been neglected, the baptism is\ninvalid, and must be repeated. Yet great solicitude is manifested,\nlest danger should be incurred by an unnecessary repetition of the\nsacrament: to guard against which, the minister is to give the\nfollowing conditional invitation to the Holy Spirit; saying, in his\naddress to the child, \"_If_ thou art not already baptized, I baptize\nthee,\" &c. It is worthy of remark, that the Church mentions as one of\nthe _essentials_ of the service, the omission of which necessitates\nits repetition, the use of the formula, \"In the name of the Father,\nand of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.\" By this rule, every one of the\napostolic baptisms recorded in Scripture must be pronounced invalid;\nand the Church of England, were it possible, would perform them again:\nfor in no instance does it appear that the Apostles employed either\nthis or even any equivalent form of words.\n\nThat this sacrament is regarded as an indispensable channel of grace,\nand positively necessary to salvation, is clear from the provision of\na short and private form, to be used in cases of extreme danger. The\nprayers, and faith, and obedience, and patient love, of parents and\nfriends,--the dedication and heart-felt surrender of their child to\nGod, the profound application of their anxieties and grief to their\nconscience and inward life,--all this, we are told, will be of no\navail, without the water and the priest. Archbishop Laud says: \"That\nbaptism is necessary to the salvation of infants (in the ordinary way\nof the Church, without binding God to the use and means of that\nsacrament, to which he hath bound us), is expressed in St. John iii.,\n'Except a man be born of water,' &c. So, no baptism, no entrance; nor\ncan infants creep in, any other ordinary way.\"[3] Bishop Bramhall\nsays: \"Wilful neglect of baptism we acknowledge to be a damnable sin;\nand, without repentance and God's extraordinary mercy, to exclude a\nman from all hope of salvation. But yet, if such a person, before his\ndeath, shall repent and deplore his neglect of the means of grace,\nfrom his heart, and desire with all his soul to be baptized, but is\ndebarred from it invincibly, we do not, we dare not, pass sentence of\ncondemnation upon him; not yet the Roman Catholics themselves. The\nquestion then is, whether the want of baptism, upon invincible\nnecessity, do evermore infallibly exclude from heaven.\"[4] Singular\nstruggle here, between the merciless ritual of the priest, and the\nrelenting spirit of the man!\n\nThe office of Communion contains even stronger marks of the same\nsacerdotal superstitions; and, notwithstanding the Protestant horror\nentertained of the mass, approaches it so nearly, that no ingenuity\ncan exhibit them in contrast. Near doctrines, however, like near\nneighbors, are known to quarrel most.\n\nThe idea of a physical sanctity, residing in solid and liquid\nsubstances, is encouraged by this service. The priest _consecrates_\nthe elements, by laying his hand upon all the bread, and upon every\nflagon containing the wine about to be dispensed. If an additional\nquantity is required, this too must be consecrated before its\ndistribution. And the sacredness thus imparted is represented as\nsurviving the celebration of the Supper, and residing in the\nsubstances as a permanent quality: for in the disposal of the bread\nand wine that may remain at the close of the sacramental feast, a\ndistinction is made between the consecrated and the unconsecrated\nportion of the elements; the former is not permitted to quit the\naltar, but is to be reverently consumed by the priest and the\ncommunicants; the latter is given to the curate. What the particular\nchange may be, which the prayer and manipulation of the minister are\nthought to induce, it is by no means easy to determine; nor would the\ndiscovery, perhaps, reward our pains. It is certainly conceived, that\nthey cease to be any longer mere bread and wine, and that with them\nthenceforth co-exist, really and substantially, the body and blood of\nChrist. Respecting this _Real Presence_ with the elements, there is no\ndispute between the Romish and the English Church; both unequivocally\nmaintain it: and the only question is, respecting the _Real Absence_\nof the original and culinary bread and wine; the Roman Catholic\nbelieving that these substantially vanish, and are replaced by the\nbody and blood of Christ; the English Protestant conceiving that they\nremain, but are united with the latter. The Lutheran, no less than the\nBritish Reformed Church, has clung tenaciously to the doctrine of the\nreal presence in the Eucharist, Luther himself declares: \"I would\nrather retain, with the Romanists, _only_ the body and blood, than\nadopt, with the Swiss, the bread and wine, _without_ the real body and\nblood of Christ.\" The catechism of our Church affirms that \"the body\nand blood of Christ are _verily and indeed_ taken and received by the\nfaithful in the Lord's Supper.\" And this was not intended to be\nfiguratively understood, of the spiritual use and appropriation to\nwhich the faith and piety of the receiver would mentally convert the\nelements: for although here the body of Christ is only said to be\n\"_taken_\" (making it the _act of the communicant_), yet one of the\nArticles speaks of it as \"_given_\" (making it the _act of the\nofficiating priest_), and implying the real presence _before\nparticipation_. However anxious, indeed, the clergy of the\n\"Evangelical\" school may be to disguise the fact, it cannot be\ndoubted that their Church has always maintained a supernatural change\nin the elements themselves, as well as in the mind of the receiver.\nCosin, Bishop of Durham, says, \"We own the union between the body and\nblood of Christ, and the elements, whose use and office we hold to be\nchanged from what it was before\"; \"we confess the necessity of a\nsupernatural and heavenly change, and that the signs cannot become\nsacraments but by the infinite power of God.\"[5]\n\nIn consistency with this preparatory change, a charmed efficacy is\nattributed to the subsequent participation in the elements. Even the\n_body_ of the communicant is said to be under their influence: \"Grant\nus to eat the flesh of thy dear Son, and drink his blood, that our\nsinful _bodies_ may be made clean through his body, and our _souls_\nwashed through his most precious blood\"; and the unworthy recipients\nare said \"to provoke God to plague them with divers diseases and\nsundry kinds of death.\" Lest the worshipper, by presenting himself in\nan unqualified state, should \"do nothing else than increase his\ndamnation,\" the unquiet conscience is directed to resort to the\npriest, and receive the benefit of absolution before communicating.\nCan we deny to the Oxford divines the merit (whatever it may be) of\nconsistency with the theology of their Church, when they applaud and\nrecommend, as they do, the administration of the Eucharist to infants,\nand to persons dying and insensible? Indeed, it is difficult to\ndiscover why infant Communion should be thought more irrational than\ninfant Baptism. If, as I have endeavored to show, the primary action\nof these ceremonies is conceived to be on God, not on the mind of\ntheir object, why should not the Divine blessing be induced upon the\nyoung and the unconscious, as well as on the mature and capable soul?\nAnd were any further evidence required than I have hitherto adduced,\nto show _on whom_ the Communion is conceived to operate in the first\ninstance, it would surely be afforded by this clause in the Service:\nby not partaking, \"_Consider how great an injury ye do unto God._\"\n\nThe only thing wanted to complete this sacerdotal system, is to obtain\nfor a certain class of men the corporate possession, and exclusive\nadministration, of these essential and holy mysteries. This our Church\naccomplishes by its doctrine of Apostolical Succession; claiming for\nits ministers a lineal official descent from the Apostles, which\ninvests them, and them alone within this realm, with divine authority\nto pronounce absolution or excommunication, and to administer the\nSacraments. They are thus the sole guardians of the channels of the\nDivine Spirit and its grace, and interpose themselves between a nation\nand its God. \"Receive the Holy Ghost,\" says the Service for Ordination\nof Priests, \"for the office and work of a priest in the Church of God,\nnow committed unto thee by the imposition of hands. Whose sins thou\ndost forgive, they are forgiven; and whose sins thou dost retain, they\nare retained.\" \"They only,\" says the present Bishop of Exeter, \"can\nclaim to rule over the Lord's household, whom he has himself placed\nover it; they only are able to minister the means of grace,--above\nall, to present the great commemorative _sacrifice_,--whom Christ has\nappointed, and whom he has in all generations appointed in unbroken\nsuccession from those, and through those, whom he first ordained.\n'Ambassadors from Christ' must, by the very force of the term, receive\ncredentials from Christ: 'stewards of the mysteries of God' must be\nintrusted with those mysteries by him. Remind your people, that in the\nChurch only is the promise of forgiveness of sins; and though, to all\nwho truly repent, and sincerely believe, Christ mercifully grants\nforgiveness, yet he has, in an especial manner, empowered his\nministers to declare and pronounce to his people the absolution and\nremission of their sins: 'Whosesoever sins ye remit, they are remitted\nunto them; and whosesoever sins ye retain, they are retained.' This\nwas the awful authority given to his first ministers, and in them, and\nthrough them, to all their successors. This is the awful authority we\nhave received, and that we must never be ashamed nor afraid to tell\nthe people that we have received.\n\n\"Having shown to the people your commission, show to them how our own\nChurch has framed its services in accordance with that commission.\nShow this to them not only in the Ordinal, but also in the Collects,\nin the Communion Service, in the Office of the Visitation of the Sick;\nshow it, especially, in that which continually presents itself to\ntheir notice, but is commonly little regarded by them; show it in the\nvery commencement of Morning and Evening Prayer, and make them\nunderstand the full blessedness of that service, in which the Church\nthus calls on them to join. Let them see that there the minister\nauthoritatively pronounces God's pardon and absolution to all them\nthat truly repent, and unfeignedly believe Christ's holy Gospel; that\nhe does this, even as the Apostles did, with the authority and by the\nappointment of our Lord himself, who, in commissioning his Apostles,\ngave this to be the never-failing assurance of his co-operation in\ntheir ministry: 'Lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the\nworld'; a promise which, of its very nature, was not to be fulfilled\nto the persons of those whom he addressed, but to their office, to\ntheir successors therefore in that office, 'even unto the end of the\nworld.' Lastly, remind and warn them of the awful sanction with which\nour Lord accompanied his mission, even of the second order of the\nministers whom he appointed: 'He that heareth you, heareth me; and he\nthat despiseth you, despiseth me; and he that despiseth me, despiseth\nhim that sent me.'\" That this high dignity may be clearly understood\nto belong in this country only to the Church of England, the Bishop\nproposes the question, \"What, then, becomes of those who are not, or\ncontinue not, members of that (visible) Church?\" and replies to it by\nsaying, that though he \"judges not them that are without,\" yet \"he who\nwilfully and in despite of due warning, or through recklessness and\nworldly-mindedness, sets at naught its ordinances, and despises its\nministers, has no right to promise to himself any share in the grace\nwhich they are appointed to convey.\"[6] \"Why,\" says one of the Oxford\ndivines, who here undeniably speaks the genuine doctrine of his\nChurch,--\"Why should we talk so much of an _Establishment_, and so\nlittle of an APOSTOLIC SUCCESSION? Why should we not seriously\nendeavor to impress our people with this plain truth, that, by\nseparating themselves from our communion, they separate themselves not\nonly from a decent, orderly, useful society, but from THE ONLY CHURCH\nIN THIS REALM WHICH HAS A RIGHT TO BE QUITE SURE THAT SHE HAS THE\nLORD'S BODY TO GIVE TO HIS PEOPLE?\"[7]\n\nOf course this divine authority has been received through the Church\nof Rome, so abominable in the eyes of all Evangelical clergymen; and\nthrough many an unworthy link in the broken chain. The Holy Spirit, it\nis acknowledged, has _passed through_ many, on whom, apparently, it\nwas not pleased to rest; and the right to forgive sins been conferred\nby those who seemed themselves to need forgiveness. A writer in the\nOxford Tracts observes: \"Nor even though we may admit that many of\nthose who formed the connecting links of this holy chain were\nthemselves unworthy of the high charge reposed in them, can this\nfurnish us with any solid ground for doubting or denying their power\nto exercise that legitimate authority with which they were duly\ninvested, of transmitting the sacred gift to worthier followers.\"[8]\n\nIn its doctrine of Sacraments, then, and in that of ecclesiastical\nauthority and succession, the Church of England is thoroughly imbued\nwith the sacerdotal character. It doubtless contains far better elements\nand nobler conceptions than those which it has been my duty to exhibit\nnow; and solemnly insists on faith of heart, and truth of conscience,\nand Christian devotedness of life, as well as on the observance of its\nritual; with the external it unites the internal condition of\nsanctification. But insisting on the theory of a mystic efficacy in the\nChristian rites, it necessarily fails to reconcile these with each\nother: and hence the opposite parties within its pale; the one\nmagnifying faith and personal spirituality, the other exalting the\nsacraments and ecclesiastical communion. They represent respectively the\ntwo constituent and clashing powers, which met at the formation of the\nEnglish Church, and of which it effected the mere compromise, not the\nreconciliation; I mean, the priestliness of Rome, and the prophetic\nspirit of the Reformers. Never, since apostolic days, did Heaven bless\nus with truer prophet than Martin Luther. It was his mission (no modern\nman had ever greater) to substitute the idea of _personal faith_ for\nthat of _sacerdotal reliance_. And gloriously, with bravery and truth of\nsoul amid a thousand hinderances, did he achieve it. But though, ever\nsince, the priests have been down, and faith has been up, yet did the\nhierarchy unavoidably remain, and insisted that _something_ should be\nmade of it, and at least some colorable terms proposed. Hence, every\nreformed church exhibits a coalition between the new and the old ideas:\nand combined views of religion, which must ultimately prove incompatible\nwith each other; the formal with the spiritual; the idea of worship as a\nmeans of propitiating God, with the conception of it as an expression of\nlove in man; the notion of Church authority with that of individual\nfreedom; the admission of a license to think, with a prohibition of\nthinking wrong. In our national Church the old spirit was ascendant over\nthe new, though long forced into quiescence by the temper of modern\ntimes. Now it is attempting to reassert its power, not without strenuous\nresistance. Indeed, the present age seems destined to end the compromise\nbetween the two principles, from the union of which Protestantism\nassumed its established forms. The truce seems everywhere breaking up: a\ngeneral disintegration of churches is visible; tradition is ransacking\nthe past for claims and dignities, and canvassing present timidity for\nfresh authority, to withstand the wild forces born at the Reformation,\nand hurrying us fast into an unknown future.\n\nLet us now turn to the primitive Christianity; which, I submit, is\nthroughout wholly anti-sacerdotal.\n\nSurely it must be admitted that the general spirit of our Lord's\npersonal life and ministry was that of the Prophet, not of the Priest;\ntending directly to the disparagement of whatever priesthood existed\nin his country, without visibly preparing the substitution of anything\nat all analogous to it. The sacerdotal order felt it so; and, with the\ninfallible instinct of self-preservation, they watched, they hated,\nthey seized, they murdered him. The priest in every age has a natural\nantipathy to the prophet, dreads him as kings dread revolution, and is\nthe first to detect his existence. The solemn moment and the gracious\nwords of Christ's first preaching in Nazareth, struck with fate the\ntemple in Jerusalem. To the old men of the village, to the neighbors\nwho knew his childhood, and companions who had shared its rambles and\nits sports, he said, with the quiet flush of inspiration: \"The Spirit\nof the Lord is upon me, because he hath anointed me to preach the\nGospel to the poor: he hath sent me to heal the broken-hearted, to\npreach deliverance to the captives, and recovering of sight to the\nblind; to set at liberty them that are bruised, to preach the\nacceptable year of the Lord.\" The Spirit of the Lord in Galilee!\nspeaking with the peasantry, dwelling in villages, and wandering loose\nand where it listeth among the hills! This would never do, thought the\nwhite-robed Levites of the Holy City; it would be as a train of\nwildfire in the temple. And were they not right? When it was revealed\nthat sanctity is no thing of place and time, that a way is open from\nearth to heaven, from every field or mountain trod by human feet, and\nthrough every roof that shelters a human head; that, amid the crowd\nand crush of life, each soul is in personal solitude with God, and by\nspeech or silence (be they but true and loving) may tell its cares and\nfind its peace; that a divine allegiance might _cost nothing_, but the\nstrife of a dutiful will and the patience of a filial heart,--how\ncould any priesthood hope to stand? See how Jesus himself, when the\ntemple was close at hand, and the sunshine dressed it in its splendor,\nyet withdrew his prayers to the midnight of Mount Olivet. He entered\nthose courts to teach, rather than to worship; and when there, he is\nfelt to take no consecration, but to give it; to bring with him the\nliving spirit of God, and spread it throughout all the place. When\nevening closes his teachings, and he returns late over the Mount to\nBethany, did he not feel that there was more of God in the\nnight-breeze on his brow, and the heaven above him, and the sad love\nwithin him, than in the place called \"Holy\" which he had left? And\nwhen he had knocked at the gate of Lazarus the risen and become his\nguest,--when, after the labors of the day, he unburdened his spirit to\nthe affections of that family, and spake of things divine to the\nsisters listening at his feet,--did they not feel, as they retired at\nlength, that the whole house was full of God, and that there is no\nsanctuary like the shrine, not made with hands, within us all? In\nchildhood, he had once preferred the temple and its teachings to his\nparents' home: now, to his deeper experience, the temple has lost its\ntruth; while the cottage and the walks of Nazareth, the daily voices\nand constant duties of this life, seem covered with the purest\nconsecration. True, he vindicated the sanctity of the temple, when he\nheard within its enclosure the hum of traffic and the chink of gain,\nand would not have the house of prayer turned into a place of\nmerchandise: because in this there was imposture and a lie, and Mammon\nand the Lord must ever dwell apart. In nothing must there be mockery\nand falsehood; and while the temple stands, it must be a temple true.\n\nOur Lord's whole ministry, then, (to which we may add that of his\nApostles,) was conceived in a spirit quite opposite to that of\npriesthood. A missionary life, without fixed locality, without form,\nwithout rites; with teaching free, occasional, and various, with\nsympathies ever with the people, and a strain of speech never marked\nby invective, except against the ruling sacerdotal influence;--all\nthese characters proclaim him, purely and emphatically, the Prophet\nof the Lord. It deserves notice that, unless as the name of his\nenemies, the _word_ \"PRIEST\" (\u1f31\u03b5\u03c1\u03b5\u03c5\u03c2) never occurs in either the\nhistorical or epistolary writings of the New Testament, except in the\nEpistle to the Hebrews. And _there_ its application is not a little\nremarkable. It is applied to Christ alone; it is declared to belong to\nhim only after his ascension; it is said that, while on earth, he\nneither was, nor could be, a priest; and if it is admitted that he\nholds the office in heaven, this is only to satisfy the demand of the\nHebrew Christians for some sacerdotal ideas in their religion, and to\nreconcile them to having no priest on earth. The writer acknowledges\none great pontiff in the world above, that the whole race may be\nsuperseded in the world below; and banishes priesthood into\ninvisibility, that men may never see its shadow more. All the terms of\noffice which are given to the first preachers of the Gospel and\nsuperintendents of churches,--as Deacon, Elder or Presbyter, Overseer\nor Bishop,--are _lay terms_, belonging previously, not to\necclesiastical, but to civil life; an indication, surely, that no\nanalogy was thought to exist between the Apostolic and the Sacerdotal\nrelations.[9] I shall, no doubt, be reminded of the words, in which\nour Lord is supposed to have given their commission to his first\nrepresentatives: \"Whatsoever ye bind on earth shall be bound in\nheaven; and whatsoever ye loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven\";\nand shall be asked whether this does not convey to them and their\nsuccessors an official authority to forgive sins, and dispense the\ndecrees of the unseen world. I reply briefly:--\n\n1st. That the power here granted does not relate to the dispensations\nof the future life, but solely to what would be termed, in modern\nlanguage, the allotment of _church-membership_. The previous verse\nproves this, furnishing as it does a particular case of the general\nauthority here assigned. It directs the Apostles under what\ncircumstances they are to remove an offender from a Christian society,\nand treat him as an unconverted man, as a heathen man and a publican.\nHaving given them their rule, he freely trusts the application of it\nto them: and being about to retire erelong from personal intervention\nin the affairs of his kingdom, he assures them that their decisions\nshall be his, and that he may be considered as adopting in heaven\ntheir determinations upon earth. He simply \"consigns to his Apostles\ndiscretionary power to direct the affairs of his Church, and\nsuperintend the diffusion of the glad tidings: they may bind and\nloose, that is, open and shut the door of admission to their\ncommunity, as their judgment may determine; employing or rejecting\napplicants for the missionary office; dissociating from their\nassemblies obstinate delinquents; receiving with openness, or\ndismissing with suspicion, each candidate for instruction, according\nto their estimate of his qualifications and motives.\"\n\n2dly. It is to be observed, that there is no appearance of any one\nbeing in the contemplation of our Lord, beyond the persons immediately\naddressed. Not a word is said of any official successor or any distant\nage. No indication is afforded, that any idea of futurity was present\nto the mind of Jesus: and a title of perpetual office, an instrument\ncreating and endowing an endless priesthood, ought, it will be\nadmitted, to be somewhat more explicit than this. But where the power\nhas been successfully claimed, the title is seldom difficult to prove.\n\nThe alleged RITUAL of Christianity, consisting of the sacraments of\nBaptism and the Communion, will be found no less destitute of sanction\nfrom the Scriptures. The former we shall see reason to regard as\nsimply an initiatory form, applicable only to Christian converts, and\nlimited therefore to adults; the latter as purely a commemoration:\nneither therefore having any sacramental or mystical efficacy.\n\nFor baptism it is impossible to establish any supernatural origin. It is\nadmitted to have existed before the Christian era; and to have been\nemployed by the Jews on the admission of proselytes to their religion.\nIt is certain that it is not an enjoined rite in the Mosaic\ndispensation; and, though prevalent before the period of the New\nTestament, is nowhere enforced or recognized in the writings of the Old.\nIt arose therefore in the interval between the only two systems which\nChristians acknowledged to be supernatural; and must be considered as of\nnatural and human origin, invested, thus far, with no higher authority\nthan its own appropriateness may confer. There seem to have been two\nmodes of construing the symbol: the one founded on the cleansing effect\nof the water on the person of the baptized himself; the other, on the\nappearance of his immersion (which was complete) to the eye of a\nspectator. The former was an image of the heathen convert's purification\nfrom a foul idolatry, and his transition to a stainless condition under\na divine and justifying law. The latter represented him, when he\nvanished in the stream, as interred to this world, sunk utterly from its\nsight; and when he reappeared, as emerging or born again to a better\nstate; the \"old man\" was \"buried in baptism,\" and when he \"rose again,\"\nhe had altogether \"become new.\"[10] The ceremony then was appropriately\nused in any case of transition from a depressed and corrupt state of\nexistence to a hopeful and blessed one; from a false or imperfect\nreligion to one true and heavenly.\n\nBut it will be said, whatever the origin of baptism, it was employed and\nsanctioned by our Lord, who commissioned his Apostles to go and baptize\nall nations. True; but is there no difference between the adoption of a\npractice already extant,--of a practice which was as much the mere\ninstitutional dress of the Apostles' nation, as the sandals whose dust\nthey were to shake off against the faithless were the customary clothing\nof the Apostles' feet,--and the authoritative appointment of a\nsacrament? They were going forth to make converts: and why should they\nnot have recourse to the form familiarly associated with the act?\nFamiliar association recommended its adoption in that age and clime; and\nthe absence of such association elsewhere and in other times may be\nthought to justify its disuse. At all events, a ceremony thus taken up\nmust be presumed to retain its acquired sense and its established extent\nof application: and if so, baptism must be strictly limited to the\nadmission of proselytes from other faiths. This accords with the known\npractice of the Apostles, who cannot be shown to have baptized any but\nthose whom they had personally, or by their missionaries, persuaded to\nbecome Christians. Not a single case of the use of the rite with\nchildren can be adduced from Scripture; and the only argument by which\nsuch employment of it is ever justified is this: that a _household_ is\nsaid to have been baptized, and _all nations_ were to receive the offer\nof it; and that the household _may_, the nations _must_, have contained\nchildren. It is evident that such reasoning could never have been\npropounded, unless the practice had existed first, and the defence had\nbeen found afterwards.\n\nWith the system of infant baptism vanish almost all the ideas which the\nprevalent theology has put into the rite; and it becomes as intelligible\nand expressive to one who believes in the good capacities of human\nnature, as to those who esteem it originally depraved. \"How unmeaning,\"\nsay our Orthodox opponents, \"is this ceremony in Unitarian hands,\ndenying, as they do, the doctrines which it represents! Of what\nregeneration can they possibly suppose it the symbol, if not of the\nwashing away of that _hereditary sin_ which they refuse to acknowledge?\nfor when the infant is brought to the font, he can as yet have no other\nguilt than this.\" I reply, the objection has no force except against the\nuse of _infant_ baptism in our churches,--which I am not anxious to\ndefend; but of course those Unitarians who employ it conceive it to be\nthe token, not of any sentiments which they reject, but of truths and\nfeelings which they hold dear. For myself, I believe, with our\nopponents, that the _doctrine_ of original sin and the _practice_ of\ninfant baptism _do_ belong to each other, and must stand or fall\ntogether; and therefore deem it a fact very significant of the Apostles'\ntheology, that no infant can be shown ever to have been \"brought to the\nfont\" by these first true missionaries of Christianity. And as to the\n_new birth_ which baptism (i. e. recent and genuine discipleship to\nJesus) may give to the _maturely convinced_ Christian, he must have a\ngreat deal to learn, not only of the Hebrew conceptions and language in\nrelation to the Messiah, but of the spirituality of the Gospel, and of\nthe fresh creations of character which it calls up, who can be much\npuzzled about its meaning.\n\nIn Christian baptism, then, we have no sacrament with mystic power;\nbut an initiatory form, possibly of consuetudinary obligation only;\nbut if enjoined, applicable exclusively to proselytes, and misemployed\nin the case of infants; a sign of conversion, not a means of\nsalvation; confided to no sacerdotal order, but open to every man\nfitted to give it an appropriate use.\n\nI turn to the Lord's Supper; with design to show what it is not, and\nwhat it is. It is not a mystery, or a sacrament, any more than it is\nan expiatory sacrifice. To persuade us that it has a ritual character,\nwe are first assured that it is clearly the successor in the Gospel to\nthe Passover under the Law. Well, even if it were so, it would still\nbe simply commemorative, and without any other efficacy than a\nfestival, filled with great remembrances, and inspired with religious\njoy. Such was the Paschal Feast in Jerusalem; the annual gathering of\nfamilies and kindred, a sacred carnival under the spring sky and in\nsight of unreaped fields, when the memory was recalled of national\ndeliverance, and the tale was told of traditional glories, and the\nthoughts brought back of bondage reversed, of the desert pilgrimage\nended, of the promised land possessed. The Jewish festival was no more\nthan this; unless, with Archbishop Magee and others, we erroneously\nconceive it to be a proper sacrifice. So that those who would\ninterpret the Lord's Supper by the Passover have their choice between\ntwo views: that it is a simple commemoration; or that it is an\nexpiatory sacrifice: in the former case they quit the Church of\nEngland; in the latter, they fall into the Church of Rome.\n\nBut, in truth, there is no propriety in applying the name \"Christian\nPassover\" to the Communion. The notion rests entirely on this\ncircumstance: that the first three Evangelists describe the last\nSupper as the Paschal Supper. But the _institutional_ part of that\nmeal was over before the cup was distributed, and the repetition of\nthe act enjoined. Nor is there the slightest trace, either in the\nsubsequent Scriptures, or in the earliest history of the Church, that\nthe Communion was thought to bear relation to the Passover. The time,\nthe frequency, the mode, of the two were altogether different. Indeed,\nwhen we observe that not one of these particulars is prescribed and\ndetermined by our Lord at all, when we notice the slight and transient\nmanner in which he drops his wish that they would \"do this in\nremembrance of\" him, when we compare these features of the account\nwith the elaborate precision of Moses respecting hours, and materials,\nand dates, and places, and modes in the establishment of the Hebrew\nfestivals, it is scarcely possible to avoid the impression, that we\nare reading narrative, not law; an utterance of personal affection,\nrather than the legislative enactment of an everlasting institution.\nHowever this may be, no importance can be attached to the reported\ncoincidence in the time of that meal with the day of Passover; for the\nApostle John, who gives by far the fullest account of what happened at\nthat table (yet never mentions the institution of the Supper), states\nthat this was not the paschal meal at all, which did not occur, he\nsays, till the following day of crucifixion.\n\n\"But,\" it will be said, \"the Gospels are not the only parts of Scripture\nwhence the nature of the Eucharist may be learned. Language is employed\nby St. Paul in reference to it, which cannot be understood of a mere\nmemorial, and implies that awful consequences hung on the worthy or\nunworthy participation in the rite. Does he not even say, that a man may\n'eat and drink damnation to himself, not discerning the Lord's body'?\"\n\nThe passage whence these words are cited certainly throws great light on\nthe institution of which we treat; but there must be a total disregard\nto the whole context and the general course of the Apostle's reasoning\nbefore it can be made to yield any argument for the mystical character\nof the rite. It would appear that the Corinthian church was in the habit\nof celebrating the Lord's Supper in a way which, even if it had never\nbeen disgraced by any indecorum, must have struck a modern Christian\nwith wonder at its singularity. The members met together in one room or\nchurch, each bringing his own supper, of such quantity and quality as\nhis opulence or poverty might allow. To this the Apostle does not\nobject, but apparently considers it a part of the established\narrangement. But these Christians were divided into factions, and had\nnot learned the true uniting spirit of their faith; nor do they seem to\nhave acquired that sobriety of habit and sanctity of mind which their\nprofession ought to have induced. When they entered the place of\nmeeting, they broke up into groups and parties, class apart from class,\nand rich deserting poor: each set began its separate meal, some\nindulging in luxury and excess, others with scarce the means of keeping\nthe commemoration at all; and, infamous to tell, the blessed Supper of\nthe Lord was sunk into a tavern meal. So gross and habitual had the\nabuse become, that the excesses had affected the health and life of\nthese guilty and unworthy partakers. They had made no distinction\nbetween the Communion and an ordinary repast, had lost all perception of\nthe memorial significance of their meeting, had not discriminated or\n\"discerned the Lord's body\"; and so they had eaten and drunk judgment\n(improperly rendered \"_damnation_\" in the English Version) to\nthemselves; and many were weak and sickly among them, and many even\nslept. Well would it be, if they would look on this as a chastening of\nthe Lord; in which case they might take warning, and escape being cast\nout of the Church, and driven to take their chance with the unbelieving\nand heathen world. \"When we are judged, we are chastened of the Lord,\nthat we should not be condemned with the world.\"\n\nIn order to remedy all this corruption, St. Paul reminds them, that to\neat and drink under the same roof, in the church, does not constitute\nproper Communion; that, to this end, they must not break up into\nsections, and retain their property in the food, but all participate\nseriously together. He directs that an absolute separation shall be\nmade between the occasions for satisfying hunger and thirst, and those\nfor observing this commemorative rite, discriminating carefully the\nmemorial of the Lord's body from everything else. He refers them all\nto the original model of the institution, the parting meal of Christ\nbefore his betrayal; and by this example, as a criterion, he would\nhave every man examine himself, and after that pattern eat of the\nbread and drink of the cup. Hence it appears,--\n\nThat the unworthy partaker was the riotous Corinthian, who made no\ndistinction between the sacred Communion and a vulgar meal:\n\nThat the judgment or damnation which such brought on themselves, was\nsickliness, weakness, and premature but natural death:\n\nThat the self-examination which the Apostle recommends to the\ncommunicant is a comparison of his mode of keeping the rite with the\noriginal model of the last Supper:\n\nThat in the Corinthian church there was no Priest, or officiating\ndispenser of the elements; and that St. Paul did not contemplate or\nrecommend the appointment of any such person.\n\nThe Lord's Supper, then, I conclude, was and is a simple\ncommemoration. Am I asked: \"_Of what_? Why, according to Unitarian\nviews, the death on the cross merits the memorial more than the\nremaining features of our Lord's history,--more even than the death of\nmany a noble martyr, who has sealed his testimony to truth by like\nself-sacrifice\"? The answer will be found at length in the Lecture on\nthe Atonement, where the Scriptural conceptions of Christ's death are\nexpounded in detail. Meanwhile, it is sufficient to recall an idea,\nwhich has more than once been thrown out during this course; that, if\nJesus had taken up his Messianic power without death, he would have\nremained a Hebrew, and been limited to the people amid whom he was\nborn. He quitted his mortal personality, he left this fleshly\ntabernacle of existence, and became immortal, that his nationality\nmight be destroyed, and all men drawn in as subjects of his reign. It\nwas the cross that opened to the nations the blessed ways of life, and\nput us all in relations, not of law, but of love, to him and God.\nHence the memorial of his death celebrates the universality and\nspirituality of the Gospel; declares the brotherhood of men, the\nfatherhood of providence, the personal affinity of every soul with\nGod. That is no empty rite which overflows with these conceptions.\n\nChristianity, then, I maintain, is without Priest and without Ritual.\nIt altogether coalesces with the prophetic idea of religion, and\nrepudiates the sacerdotal. Christ himself was transcendently THE\nPROPHET. He brought down God to this our life, and left his spirit\namid its scenes. The Apostles were prophets; they carried that spirit\nabroad, revealing everywhere to men the sanctity of their nature, and\nthe proximity of their heaven. Nor am I even unwilling to admit an\napostolic succession, never yet extinct, and never more to be\nextinguished. But then it is by no means a rectilinear regiment of\nincessant priests; but a broken, scattered, yet glorious race of\nprophets; the genealogy of great and Christian souls, through whom the\nprimitive conceptions of Jesus have propagated themselves from age to\nage; mind producing mind, courage giving birth to courage, truth\ndeveloping truth, and love ever nurturing love, so long as one good\nand noble spirit shall act upon another. Luther surely was the child\nof Paul; and what a noble offspring has risen to manhood from Luther's\nsoul, whom to enumerate were to tell the best triumphs of the modern\nworld. These are Christ's true ambassadors; and never did he mean any\nfollower of his to be called a priest. He has his genuine messenger,\nwherever, in the Church or in the world, there toils any one of the\nreal prophets of our race; any one who can create the good and great\nin other souls, whether by truth of word or deed, by the inspiration\nof genuine speech, or the better power of a life merciful and holy.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAnd here, my friends, with my subject might my Lecture close, were it\nnot that we are assembled now to terminate this controversy; and that\na few remarks in reference to its whole course and spirit seem to be\nrequired.\n\nThat the recent aggression upon the principles of Unitarian\nChristianity was prompted by no unworthy motive, individual or\npolitical, but by a zeal, Christian so far as its spirit is\ndisinterested, and unchristian only so far as it is exclusive, has\nnever been doubted or denied by my brother ministers or myself. That\nmuch personal consideration and courtesy have been evinced towards us\nduring the controversy, it is so grateful to us to acknowledge, that\nwe must only regret the theological obstructions in the way of that\nmutual knowledge which softens the prejudices and corrects the errors\nof the closet. From such errors, the lot of our fallible nature, we\nare deeply aware that we cannot be exempt, and profoundly wish that,\nby others' aid or by our own, we could discover them. Meanwhile, we do\nnot feel that our opponents have been successful in the offer which\nthey have made, of help towards this end. They are too little\nacquainted with our history and character, and have far too great a\nhorror of us, to succeed in a design demanding rather the benevolence\nof sympathy and trust than that of antipathy and fear. Hence have\narisen certain complaints and charges against our system and its\ntendencies, which, having been reiterated again and again in the\nChrist Church Lectures, and scarcely noticed in our own, claim a\nconcluding observation or two now.\n\n1. We are said to be infidels in disguise, and our system to be\ndrifting fast towards utter unbelief. At all events, it is said we\nmake great advances that way.\n\nIt is by no means unusual to dismiss this charge on a whirlwind of\ndeclamation, designed to send it and the infidel to the greatest\npossible distance. My friend who delivered the first Lecture noticed\nit in a far different spirit; and in a discussion where truth and\nwisdom had any chance, his reply would have prevented any recurrence\nto the statement. Let me try to imitate him in the testimony which I\ndesire to add upon this point.\n\nEvery one, I presume, who disbelieves _anything_, is, with respect to\nthat thing, _an infidel_. Departure from any prevalent and established\nideas is inevitably an approach to infidelity; the extent of the\ndeparture, not the reasonableness or propriety of it, is the sole\nmeasure of the nearness of that approach; which, however wise and\nsober, when estimated by a true and independent criterion, will\nappear, to persons strongly possessed by the ascendant notions,\nnothing less than alarming, amazing, awful. In short, the average\npopular creed of the day is the mental standard, from which the stadia\nare measured off towards that invisible, remote, nay, even imaginary\nplace, lodged somewhere within chaos, called utter unbelief.\nChristianity at first was blank infidelity; and disciples, being of\ncourse the atheists of their day, were thought a fit prey for the\nwild beasts of the amphitheatre. Every rejection of tradition, again,\nis unbelief with respect to it; and to those who hold its authority,\nit is the denial of an essential. It is too evident to need proof,\nthat the average popular belief cannot be assumed, by any considerate\nperson, as a standard of truth. To make it an objection against any\nclass of men, that they depart from it, is to prove no error against\nthem; and no one, who is not willing to call in the passions of the\nmultitude in suffrage on the controversies of the few, will condescend\nto enforce the charge.\n\nBut only observe how, in the present instance, the matter stands. In\nthe popular religion we discern, mixed up together, two constituent\nportions: certain _peculiar_ doctrines which characterize the common\nOrthodoxy; and certain _universal_ Christian truths remaining, when\nthese are subtracted. The infidel throws away both of these; we throw\naway the former only; and thus far, no doubt, we partially agree with\nhim. But _on what grounds_ do we severally justify this rejection? In\nanswer to this question, compare the views, with respect both to the\n_authority_ and to the _interpretation_ of Scripture, held by the\nthree parties, the Trinitarian, the Unbeliever, the Unitarian. The\nUnbeliever does not usually find fault with the Orthodox\n_interpretation_ of the Bible, but allows it to pass, as probably the\nreal meaning of the book, only he altogether denies the divine\ncharacter and authority of the whole religion; he therefore _agrees_\nwith the Trinitarian respecting interpretation, disagrees with him\nrespecting _authority_. The Unitarian, again, admits the divine\ncharacter of Christianity, but understands it differently from the\nTrinitarian; he therefore reverses the former case, _agrees_ with the\nOrthodox on the authority, _disagrees_ respecting interpretation. It\nfollows, that with the Unbeliever he agrees _in neither_, and is\ntherefore farther from him than his Trinitarian accuser.\n\nI have given this explanation from regard simply to logical truth. I\nhave no desire to join in the outcry against even the deliberate\nunbeliever in the Gospel, as if he must necessarily be a fiend.\nProfoundly loving and trusting Christianity myself, I yet feel indignant\nat the persecution which theology, policy, and law inflict on the many\nwho, with undeniable exercise of conscientiousness and patience of\nresearch, are yet unable to satisfy themselves respecting its evidence.\nThe very word \"_infidel_,\" implying not simply an intellectual judgment,\nbut bad moral qualities, conveys an unmerited insult, and ought to be\nrepudiated by every generous disputant. The more deeply we trust\nChristianity, the more should we protest against its being defended by a\nbody-guard of passions, willing to do for it precisely the services\nwhich they might equally render to the vulgarest imposture.\n\n2. We were recently accused, amid acknowledgments of our _honesty_,\nwith want of _anxiety_ about spiritual truth; and the following\njustification of the charge was offered: \"The word of God has informed\nus, that they who seek the truth shall find it; that they who ask for\nholy wisdom shall receive it; but it must be a _really anxious\ninquiry_,--a heart-felt desire for the blessing. 'If thou seekest her\nas silver, and searchest for her as for hid treasures, then shalt thou\nunderstand the fear of the Lord, and find the knowledge of God.' Such\npromises are express,--they cannot be broken,--God will give the\nblessing to the _sincere_, _anxious_ inquirer. But the two qualities\nmust go together. A man may be sincere in his ignorance and spiritual\ntorpor; but let the full desire for God's favor, his pardoning mercy,\nand his enlightening grace spring up in the heart, and we may rest\nassured that the desire will soon be accomplished. Admitting, then,\nthe sincerity of Unitarians, we doubt their anxiety, for we are well\npersuaded from God's promises, that, if they possessed both, they\nwould be delivered from their miserable system, and be brought to the\nknowledge of the truth.\"[11]\n\nThe praise of our \"_sincerity_,\" conveyed in these bland sentences, we\nare anxious to decline: not that we undervalue the quality; but\nbecause we find, on near inspection, that it has all been emptied out\nof the word before its presentation, and the term comes to us hollow\nand worthless. It affords a specimen of the mode in which alone our\nopponents appear able to give any credit to heretics: many phrases of\napprobation they freely apply to us; but they take care to draw off\nthe whole meaning first. We must reject these \"Greek presents\"; and we\nare concerned that any Christian divine can so torture and desecrate\nthe names of virtue, as to make them instruments of disparagement and\ninjury. This play with words, which every conscience should hold\nsacred, and every lip pronounce with reverence,--this careless and\nunmeaning application of them in discourse,--indicates a loose\nadhesion to the mind of the ideas denoted by them, which we regard\nwith unfeigned astonishment and grief. What, let me ask, can be the\n\"_sincerity_\" of an inquirer, who is not \"_anxious_\" _about the\ntruth_? How can _he_ be \"_sincerely_\" persuaded that he sees, who\nvoluntarily shuts his eyes? Unless this word is to be degraded into a\nsynonyme for indolence and self-complacency, no professed seeker of\ntruth must have the praise of sincerity, who does not abandon all\nworship of his own state of mind as already perfect, who is not ready\nto listen to every calm doubt as to the voice of heaven,--to undertake\nwith gratitude the labor of reaching new knowledge,--to maintain his\nfaith and his profession in scrupulous accordance with his perception\nof evidence; and, at any moment of awakening, to spring from his most\nbrilliant dreams into God's own morning light, with a matin hymn upon\nhis lips for his new birth from darkness and from sleep. The\nearnestness implied in this state of mind is perhaps not precisely the\nsame as that with which our Trinitarian opponents seem to be familiar.\nThe \"anxiety\" which they appear to feel for themselves is, to keep\ntheir existing state of belief: the \"anxiety\" which they feel for us\nis, that we should have it. We are to hold ourselves ready for a\nchange; they are not to be expected to desire it. If a doubt of _our\nopinions_ should occur _to us_, we are to foster it carefully, and\nfollow it out as a beckoning of the Holy Spirit: if a doubt of _their\nsentiments_ should occur _to them_, they are to crush it on the spot,\nas a reptile-thought sent of Satan to tempt them. \"Our aim,\" says the\nconcluding Lecturer again, \"has been to beget a deep spirit of\ninquiry\";[12] and so has ours, I would reply: only you and we have\nseverally prosecuted this aim in different ways. We have personally\nlistened, and personally inquired, and earnestly recommended all whom\nour influence could reach, to do the same: and few indeed will be the\nUnitarian libraries containing one of these series of Lectures that\nwill not exhibit the other by its side. You have entered this\ncontroversy, evidently strange to our literature and history; and any\ndeficiency in such reading before, has not been compensated by anxiety\nto listen now. Your people have been warned against us, and are taught\nto regard the study of our publications as blasphemy at second hand;\nand were they really so simple as to act upon your avowed wish \"to\nbeget a deep spirit of inquiry,\" and plunge into the investigation of\nUnitarian authors, and judge for themselves of Unitarian worship, they\nwould speedily hear the word of recall, and discover that they were\npractically disappointing the whole object of this controversy.\n\nHaving said thus much respecting the unmeaning use of language in the\nLecturer's disparaging estimate of Unitarian \"anxiety,\" we may\nprofitably direct a moment's attention to the _reasoning_ which it\ninvolves. It presents us with the standing fallacy of intolerance,\nwhich is sufficiently rebuked by being simply exhibited. Our opponents\nreason thus:--\n\n                 God will not permit the really anxious fatally to err:\n                 The Unitarians _do_ fatally err:\n      Therefore, The Unitarians are not really anxious.\n\nNow it is clear that we must conceive our opponents to be no less\nmistaken than they suppose us to be. They are as far from us, as we\nfrom them; and from either point, taken as a standard, the measure of\nerror must be the same. Moreover, we cannot but eagerly assent to the\nprinciple of the Lecturer's first premise, that God will never let the\ntruly anxious fatally miss their way. So that there is nothing, in the\nnature of the case, to prevent our turning this same syllogism, with a\nchange in the names of the parties, against our opponents. Yet we\nshould shrink, with severe self-reproach, from drawing any such\nunfavorable conclusion respecting them, as they deduce of us.\nAccordingly, we manage our reasoning thus:--\n\n                 God will not permit the really anxious fatally to err:\n                 The Trinitarians show themselves to be really anxious:\n      Therefore, The Trinitarians do not fatally err.\n\nOur opponents are more sure that their judgment is in the right, than\nthat their neighbors' conscience is in earnest. They sacrifice other\nmen's characters to their own self-confidence: we would rather distrust\nour self-confidence, and rely on the visible signs of a good and careful\nmind. We honor other men's hearts, rather than our own heads. How can it\nbe just, to make the agreement between an opponent's opinion and our own\nthe criterion of his proper conduct of the inquiry? Every man feels the\ninjury the moment the rule is turned against himself; and every good man\nshould be ashamed to direct it against his brother.\n\n3. Our reverend opponents affect to have labored under a great\ndisadvantage, from the absence of any recognized standard of Unitarian\nbelief. \"We give you,\" they say, \"our Articles and Creeds, which we\nunanimously undertake to defend, and which expose a definite object to\nall heretical attacks. In return, you can furnish us with no\nauthorized exposition of your system, but leave us to gather our\nknowledge of it from individual writers, for whose opinions you refuse\nto be responsible, and whose reasonings, when refuted by us, you can\nconveniently disown.\"\n\nPlausible as this complaint may appear, I venture to affirm, that it\nis vastly easier to ascertain the common belief of Unitarians, than\nthat of the members of the Established Church; and for this plain\nreason, that with us there really is such a thing as a common faith,\nthough defined in no confession; in the Anglican Church there is not,\nthough articles and creeds profess it. The characteristic tenets of\nUnitarian Christianity are so simple and unambiguous, that little\nscope exists for variety in their interpretation: to the propositions\nexpressing them all their professors attach _distinct and the same_\nideas;--so far, at least, as such accordance is possible in relation\nto subjects inaccessible both to demonstration and to experience. But\nthe Trinitarian hypothesis, venturing with presumptuous analysis far\ninto the Divine psychology, presents us with ideas confessedly\ninapprehensible; propounded in language which, if used in its ordinary\nsense, is self-contradictory, and if not, is unmeaning, and ready in\nits emptiness to be filled by any arbitrary interpretation;--and\nactually understood so variously by those who subscribe to them, that\nthe Calvinist and the Arminian, the Tritheist and the Sabellian, unite\nto praise them. Indeed, in the history of the English Church, so\nvisible is the sweep of the centre of Orthodoxy over the whole space\nfrom the confines of Romanism to the verge of Unitarianism, that our\necclesiastical chronology is measured by its oscillations. Our\nrespected opponents know full well, that it is not necessary to search\nbeyond the clergy of this town, or even beyond the morning and\nafternoon preaching in one and the same church, in order to encounter\ngreater contrasts in theology, than could be found in a whole library\nof Unitarian divinity. What mockery, then, to refer us to these\narticles as expositions of clerical belief, when the moment we pass\nbeyond the words, and address ourselves to the sense, every shade of\ncontrariety appears; and no one definite conception can be adopted of\nsuch a doctrine as that of the Trinity, without some church expositor\nor other starting up to rebuke it as a misrepresentation! How poor the\npride of uniformity, which contents itself with lip-service to the\nsymbol, in the midst of heart-burnings about the reality!\n\nIn order to test the force of the objection to which I am referring,\nlet us advert, in detail, to the topics which exhibit the Unitarian\nand Trinitarian theology in most direct opposition. It will appear\nthat the advantage of unity lies, in this instance, on the side of\nheresy; and that, if multiformity be a prime characteristic of error,\nthere is a wide difference between orthodoxy and truth. There are four\ngreat subjects comprised in the controversy between the Church and\nourselves: the nature of God; of Christ; of sin; of punishment. On\nthese several points (which, considered as involving on our part\ndenials of previous ideas, may be regarded as containing the\n_negative_ elements of our belief) all our modern writers, without\nmaterial variation or exception, maintain the following doctrines:--\n\n  UNITARIAN DOCTRINES, _opposed to_ CHURCH DOCTRINES.\n\n  1. The Personal Unity of God.     1. The Trinity in Unity.\n\n  2. The Simplicity of Nature in    2. Two Distinct Natures in\n     Christ.                           Christ.\n\n  3. The Personal Origin and        3. The Transferable Nature\n     Identity of Sin.                  and Vicarious Removal\n                                       of Sin.\n\n  4. The Finite Duration of Future  4. The Eternity of Hell\n     Suffering.                        Torments.\n\nNow no one at all familiar with polemical literature can deny that the\nmodes and ambiguities of doctrine comprised in this Trinitarian list\nare more numerous than can be detected in the parallel \"heresies.\" I\nam willing, indeed, to admit an exception in respect to the last of\nthe topics, and to allow that the belief in the finite duration of\nfuture punishment has opposed itself, in two forms, to the single\ndoctrine of everlasting torments. But when the systems are compared at\ntheir other corresponding points, the boast of orthodox uniformity\ninstantly vanishes. Since the primitive jealousy between the Jewish\nand Gentile Christianity, the rivalry between the \"Monarchy\" and the\n\"Economy,\" the believers in the personal unity of God, though often\nsevered by ages from each other, have held that majestic truth in one\nunvaried form. Never was there an idea so often lost and recovered,\nyet so absolutely unchanged: a sublime but occasional visitant of the\nhuman mind, assuring us of the perpetual oneness of our own nature, as\nwell as the Divine. We can point to no unbroken continuity of our\ngreat doctrine: and if we could, we should appeal with no confidence\nto the evidence of so dubious a phenomenon; for if a system of ideas\nonce gains possession of society, and attracts to itself complicated\ninterests and feelings, many causes may suffice to insure its\nindefinite preservation. But we can point to a greater phenomenon: to\nthe long and repeated extinction of our favorite belief, to its\nsubmersion beneath a dark and restless fanaticism; and its invariable\nresurrection, like a necessary intuition of the soul, in times of\npurer light, with its features still the same; stamped with\nimperishable identity of truth, and, like him to whom it refers,\nwithout variableness or shadow of a turning. Meanwhile, who will\nundertake to enumerate and define the succession of Trinities by which\nthis doctrine has been bewildered and banished? Passing by the\nAristotelian, the Platonic, the Ciceronian, the Cartesian\nTrinity,--quitting the stormy disputes and contradictory decisions of\nthe early councils, shall we find among even the modern fathers of our\nNational Church any approach to unanimity? Am I to be content with the\ndoctrine of Bishop Bull, and subordinate the Son to the Father as the\nsole fountain of divinity? Or must I rise to the Tritheism of\nWaterland and Sherlock? or, accepting the famous decision of the\nUniversity of Oxford, descend, with Archbishop Whately, to the modal\nTrinity of South and Wallis? Are we to understand the phrase, three\npersons, to mean three beings united by \"perichoresis,\" three \"mutual\ninexistences,\" three \"modes,\" three \"differences,\" three\n\"contemplations,\" or three \"somewhats\"; or, being told that this is\nbut a vain prying into a mystery, shall we be satisfied to leave the\nphrase without idea at all? It is to the last degree astonishing to\nhear from Trinitarian divines the praises of uniformity of belief;\nseeing that it is one of the chief labors of ecclesiastical history to\nrecord the incessant effort, vain to the present day, to give some\nstability of meaning to the fundamental doctrines of their faith.\n\nThe same remark applies, with little modification, to the opposite views\nrespecting the person of the Saviour. It is true, that Unitarians,\nagreed respecting the singleness of nature in Christ, differ respecting\nthe natural rank of that nature, whether his soul were human or angelic.\nBut, for this solitary variety among these heretics, how many doctrines\nof the Logos and the Incarnation does Orthodox literature contain? Can\nany one affirm, that, when the Council of Ephesus had arbitrated between\nthe Eutychian doctrine of absorption, and the Nestorian doctrine of\nseparation, all doubt and ambiguity was removed by the magic phrase\n\"hypostatic union\"? Since the monophysite contest was at its height, has\nthe Virgin Mary been left in undisputed possession of her title as\n\"Mother of God\"? Has the Eternal Generation of the Son encountered no\northodox suspicions, and the Indwelling scheme received no orthodox\nsupport? And if we ask these questions: \"What respectively happened to\nthe two natures on the cross? what has become of Christ's human soul\nnow? is it separate from the Godhead, like any other immortal spirit, or\nis it added to the Deity, so as to introduce into his nature a new and\nfourth element?\" shall we receive from the many voices of the Church but\none accordant answer? Nay, do the authors of this controversy suppose\nthat, during its short continuance, they have been able to maintain\ntheir unanimity? If they do, I believe that any reader who thinks it\nworth while to register the varieties of error, would be able to\nundeceive them. If the diversities of doctrine cannot easily and often\nbe shown to amount to palpable inconsistencies, this must be ascribed, I\nbelieve, to the mystic and technical phraseology, the substitute rather\nthan the expression for precise ideas,--which has become the vernacular\ndialect of orthodox divinity. The jargon of theology affords a field\ntoo barren to bear so vigorous a weed as an undisputed contradiction.\n\nIt is needless to dwell on the numerous forms under which the doctrine\nof Atonement has been held by those who subscribe the articles of our\nNational Church; while its Unitarian opponents have taken their fixed\nstation on the personal character and untransferable nature of sin. One\nwriter tells us that only the human nature perished on the cross;\nanother, that God himself expired: some say, that Christ suffered no\nmore intensely, but only more \"meritoriously,\" than many a martyr;\nothers, that he endured the whole quantity of torment due to the wicked\nwhom he redeemed: some, that it is the spotlessness of his manhood that\nis imputed to believers; others, that it is the holiness of his Deity.\nFrom the high doctrine of satisfaction to the very verge of Unitarian\nheresy, every variety of interpretation has been given to the language\nof the established formularies respecting Christian redemption. Nor is\nit yet determined whether, in the lottery of opinion, the name of Owen,\nSykes, or Magee shall be drawn for the prize of orthodoxy.\n\nAnd if, from those parts of our belief to which the accidents of their\nhistorical origin have given a _negative_ character, we turn to those\nwhich are _positive_, not the slightest reason will appear for charging\nthem with uncertainty and fluctuation. All Unitarian writers maintain\nthe Moral Perfection and Fatherly Providence of the Infinite Ruler; the\nMessiahship of Jesus Christ, in whose person and spirit there is a\nRevelation of God and a Sanctification for Man; the Responsibility and\nRetributive Immortality of men; and the need of a pure and devout heart\nof Faith, as the source of all outward goodness and inward communion\nwith God. These great and self-luminous points, bound together by\nnatural affinity, constitute the fixed centre of our religion. And on\nsubjects beyond this centre we have no wider divergences than are found\namong those who attach themselves to an opposite system. For example,\nthe relations between Scripture and Reason, as evidences and guides in\nquestions of doctrine, are not more unsettled among us, than are the\nrelations between Scripture and Tradition in the Church. Nor is the\nperpetual authority of the \"Christian rites\" so much in debate among our\nministers, as the efficacy of the sacraments among the clergy. In truth,\nour diversities of sentiment affect far less _what_ we believe, than the\nquestion _why_ we believe it. Different modes of reasoning, and\ndifferent results of interpretation, are no doubt to be found among our\nseveral authors. We all make our appeal to the records of Christianity;\nbut we have voted no particular commentator into the seat of authority.\nAnd is not this equally true of our opponents' Church? Their articles\nand creeds furnish no textual expositions of Scripture, but only results\nand deductions from its study. And so variously have these results been\nelicited from the sacred writings, that scarcely a text can be adduced\nin defence of the Trinitarian scheme, which some witness unexceptionably\northodox may not be summoned to prove inapplicable. In fine, we have no\ngreater variety of critical and exegetical opinion than the divines from\nwhom we dissent; while the system of Christianity in which our\nScriptural labors have issued, has its leading characteristics better\ndetermined and more apprehensible than the scheme which the articles and\ncreeds have vainly labored to define.\n\nThe refusal to embody our sentiments in any authoritative formula\nappears to strike observers as a whimsical exception to the general\npractice of churches. The peculiarity has had its origin in hereditary\nand historical associations; but it has its defence in the noblest\nprinciples of religious freedom and Christian communion. At present,\nit must suffice to say, that our societies are dedicated, not to\ntheological opinions, but to religious worship; that they have\nmaintained the unity of the spirit, without insisting on any unity of\ndoctrine; that Christian liberty, love, and piety are their essentials\nin perpetuity, but their Unitarianism an accident of a few or many\ngenerations,--which has arisen, and might vanish, without the loss of\ntheir identity. We believe in the mutability of religious systems, but\nthe imperishable character of the religious affections;--in the\nprogressiveness of opinion within, as well as without, the limits of\nChristianity. Our forefathers cherished the same conviction; and so,\nnot having been born intellectual bondsmen, we desire to leave our\nsuccessors free. Convinced that uniformity of doctrine can never\nprevail, we seek to attain its only good--peace on earth and communion\nwith Heaven--without it. We aim to make a true Christendom,--a\ncommonwealth of the faithful,--by the binding force, not of\necclesiastical creeds, but of spiritual wants and Christian\nsympathies; and indulge the vision of a Church that \"in the latter\ndays shall arise,\" like \"the mountain of the Lord,\" bearing on its\nascent the blossoms of thought proper to every intellectual clime, and\nwithal massively rooted in the deep places of our humanity, and gladly\nrising to meet the sunshine from on high.\n\nAnd now, friends and brethren, let us say a glad farewell to the\nfretfulness of controversy, and retreat again, with thanksgiving, into\nthe interior of our own venerated truth. Having come forth, at the\nseverer call of duty, to do battle for it, with such force as God\nvouchsafes to the sincere, let us go in to live and worship beneath\nits shelter. They tell you it is not the true faith. Perhaps not; but\nthen you think it so; and that is enough to make your duty clear, and\nto draw from it, as from nothing else, the very peace of God. May be,\nwe are on our way to something better, unexistent and unseen as yet,\nwhich may penetrate our souls with nobler affection, and give a fresh\nspontaneity of love to God and all immortal things. Perhaps there\ncannot be the truest life of faith, except in scattered individuals,\ntill this age of conflicting doubt and dogmatism shall have passed\naway. Dark and leaden clouds of materialism hide the heaven from us;\nred gleams of fanaticism pierce through, vainly striving to reveal it;\nand not till the weight is heaved from off the air, and the thunders\nroll down the horizon, will the serene light of God flow upon us, and\nthe blue infinite embrace us again. Meanwhile we must reverently love\nthe faith we have; to quit it for one that we have not, were to lose\nthe breath of life and die.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[3] Conference with Fisher, \u00a7 15; quoted in Tracts for the Times, No.\n76. Catena Patrum, No. II. p. 18.\n\n[4] Of Persons dying without Baptism, p. 979; quoted in _loc. cit._\npp. 19, 20.\n\n[5] History of Popish Transubstantiation, Chap. IV.; printed in the\nTracts for the Times, No. XXVII. pp. 14, 15.\n\n[6] Bishop of Exeter's Charge, delivered at his Triennial Visitation\nin August, September, and October, 1836, pp. 44-47.\n\n[7] Tracts for the Times, No. IV. p. 5.\n\n[8] Ibid., No. V. pp. 9, 10.\n\n[9] Archbishop Whately, speaking of the word \u1f31\u03b5\u03c1\u03b5\u03c5\u03c2 and its meaning,\nsays: \"This is an office assigned to none under the Gospel scheme,\nexcept the ONE great High-Priest, of whom the Jewish priests were\ntypes.\" (Elements of Logic. Appendix: Note on the word \"Priest.\") Of the\n\"_Gospel scheme_\" this is quite true; of the _Church-of-England scheme_\nit is not. There lies before me Duport's Greek version of the\nPrayer-Book and Offices of the Anglican Church: and turning to the\nCommunion Service, I find the officiating clergyman called \u1f31\u03b5\u03c1\u03b5\u03c5\u03c2\nthroughout. The _absence_ of this word from the records of the primitive\nGospel, and its _presence_ in the Prayer-Book, is perfectly expressive\nof the difference in the spirit of the two systems;--the difference\nbetween the Church _with_, and the \"Christianity _without_ Priest.\"\n\n[10] See Rom. vi. 2-4: \"How shall we, that are dead to sin, live any\nlonger therein? Know ye not, that so many of us as were baptized into\nJesus Christ were baptized into his death? Therefore we are buried with\nhim by baptism into death; that, like as Christ was raised up from the\ndead by the glory of the Father, even so we also should walk in newness\nof life.\" Mr. Locke observes of \"St. Paul's argument,\" that it \"is to\nshow in what state of life we ought to be raised out of baptism, in\nsimilitude and conformity to that state of life Christ was raised into\nfrom the grave.\" See also Col. ii. 12: \"Ye are ... buried with him in\nbaptism, wherein also ye are risen with him through the faith of the\noperation of God, who hath raised him from the dead.\" The force of the\nimage clearly depends on the sinking and rising in the water.\n\n[11] Mr. Dalton's Lecture on the Eternity of Future Rewards and\nPunishments, p. 760.\n\n[12] Mr. Dalton's Lecture, p. 760.\n\n\n\n\nINCONSISTENCY OF THE SCHEME OF VICARIOUS REDEMPTION.\n\n    \"Neither is there salvation in any other; for there is none other\n    name under heaven given among men, whereby we must be\n    saved.\"--Acts iv. 12.\n\n\nThe scene which we have this evening to visit and explore, is separated\nfrom us by the space of eighteen centuries; yet of nothing on this earth\nhas Providence left, within the shadows of the past, so vivid and divine\nan image. Gently rising above the mighty \"field of the world,\" Calvary's\nmournful hill appears, covered with silence now, but distinctly showing\nthe heavenly light that struggled there through the stormiest elements\nof guilt. Nor need we only gaze, as on a motionless picture that closes\nthe vista of Christian ages. Permitting history to take us by the hand,\nwe may pace back in pilgrimage to the hour, till its groups stand around\nus, and pass by us, and its voices of passion and of grief mock and wail\nupon our ear. As we mingle with the crowd which, amid noise and dust,\nfollows the condemned prisoners to the place of execution, and fix our\neye on the faint and panting figure of one that bears his cross, could\nwe but whisper to the sleek priests close by, how might we startle them,\nby telling them the future fate of this brief tragedy,--brief in act, in\nblessing everlasting; that this Galilean convict shall be the world's\nconfessed deliverer, while they that have brought him to this shall be\nthe scorn and by-word of the nations; that that vile instrument of\ntorture, now so abject that it makes the dying slave more servile,\nshall be made, by this victim and this hour, the symbol of whatever is\nholy and sublime; the emblem of hope and love; pressed to the lips of\nages; consecrated by a veneration which makes the sceptre seem trivial\nas an infant's toy. Meanwhile, the sacerdotal hypocrites, unconscious of\nthe part they play, watch to the end the public murder which they have\nprivately suborned; stealing a phrase from Scripture, that they may mock\nwith holy lips; and leaving to the plebeian soldiers the mutual jest and\nbrutal laugh, that serve to beguile the hired but hated work of agony,\nand that draw forth from the sufferer that burst of forgiving prayer,\nwhich sunk at least into their centurion's heart. One there is, who\nshould have been spared the hearing of these scoffs; and perhaps she\nheard them not; for before his nature was exhausted more, his eye\ndetects and his voice addresses her, and twines round her the filial arm\nof that disciple, who had been ever the most loving as well as most\nbeloved. She at least lost the religion of that hour in its humanity,\nand beheld not the prophet, but the son:--had not her own hands wrought\nthat seamless robe for which the soldiers' lot is cast; and her own lips\ntaught him that strain of sacred poetry, \"My God, my God, why hast thou\nforsaken me?\" but never had she thought to hear it _thus_. As the cries\nbecome fainter and fainter, scarcely do they reach Peter standing afar\noff. The last notice of him had been the rebuking look that sent him to\nweep bitterly; and now the voice that alone can tell him his forgiveness\nwill soon be gone! Broken hardly less, though without remorse, is the\nyouthful John, to see that head, lately resting on his bosom, drooping\npassively in death; and to hear the involuntary shriek of Mary, as the\nspear struck upon the lifeless body, moving now only as it is\nmoved;--whence he alone, on whom she leaned, records the fact. Well\nmight the Galilean friends stand at a distance gazing; unable to depart,\nyet not daring to approach; well might the multitudes that had cried\n\"Crucify him!\" in the morning, shudder at the thought of that clamor ere\nnight; \"beholding the things that had come to pass, they smote their\nbreasts and returned.\"\n\nThis is the scene of which we have to seek the interpretation. Our\nfirst natural impression is, that it requires no interpretation, but\nspeaks for itself; that it has no mystery, except that which belongs\nto the triumphs of deep guilt, and the sanctities of disinterested\nlove. To raise our eye to that serene countenance, to listen to that\nsubmissive voice, to note the subjects of its utterance, would give us\nno idea of any mystic horror concealed behind the human features of\nthe scene; of any invisible contortions, as from the lash of demons,\nin the soul of that holy victim; of any sympathetic connection of that\ncross with the bottomless pit on the one hand, and the highest heaven\non the other; of any moral revolution throughout our portion of the\nuniverse, of which this public execution is but the outward signal.\nThe historians drop no hint that its sufferings, its affections, its\nrelations, were other than human,--raised indeed to distinction by\nmiraculous accompaniments; but intrinsically, however signally, human.\nThey mention, as if bearing some appreciable proportion to the whole\nseries of incidents, particulars so slight, as to vanish before any\nother than the obvious historical view of the transaction; the thirst,\nthe sponge, the rent clothes, the mingled drink. They ascribe no\nsentiment to the crucified, except such as might be expressed by one\nof like nature with ourselves, in the consciousness of a finished work\nof duty, and a fidelity never broken under the strain of heaviest\ntrial. The narrative is clearly the production of minds filled, not\nwith theological anticipations, but with historical recollections.\n\nWith this view of Christ's death, which is such as might be\nentertained by any of the primitive churches, having one of the\nGospels only, without any of the Epistles, we are content. I conceive\nof it, then, as manifesting the last degree of moral perfection in the\nHoly One of God; and believe that, in thus being an expression of\ncharacter, it has its primary and everlasting value. I conceive of it\nas the needful preliminary to his resurrection and ascension, by which\nthe severest difficulties in the theory of Providence, life, and duty\nare alleviated or solved. I conceive of it as immediately procuring\nthe universality and spirituality of the Gospel; by dissolving those\ncorporeal ties which gave nationality to Jesus, and making him, in his\nheavenly and immortal form, the Messiah of humanity; blessing,\nsanctifying, regenerating, not a people from the centre of Jerusalem,\nbut a world from his station in the heavens. And these views, under\nunimportant modifications, I submit, are the only ones of which\nScripture contains a trace.\n\nAll this, however, we are assured, is the mere outside aspect of the\ncrucifixion; and wholly insignificant compared with the invisible\ncharacter and relations of the scene; which, localized only on earth,\nhas its chief effect in hell; and, though presenting itself among the\noccurrences of time, is a repeal of the decretals of Eternity. The being\nwho hangs upon that cross is not man alone; but also the everlasting\nGod, who created and upholds all things, even the sun that now darkens\nits face upon him, and the murderers who are waiting for his expiring\ncry. The anguish he endures is not chiefly that which falls so\npoignantly on the eye and ear of the spectator; the injured human\naffections, the dreadful momentary doubt; the pulses of physical\ntorture, doubling on him with full or broken wave, till driven back by\nthe overwhelming power of love disinterested and divine. But he is\njudicially abandoned by the Infinite Father; who expends on him the\nimmeasurable wrath due to an apostate race, gathers up into an hour the\nlightnings of Eternity, and lets them loose upon that bended head. It is\nthe moment of retributive justice; the expiation of all human guilt:\nthat open brow hides beneath it the despair of millions of men; and to\nthe intensity of agony there, no human wail could give expression.\nMeanwhile, the future brightens on the elect; the tempests that hung\nover their horizon are spent. The vengeance of the lawgiver having had\nits way, the sunshine of a Father's grace breaks forth, and lights up,\nwith hope and beauty, the earth, which had been a desert of despair and\nsin. According to this theory, Christ, in his death, was a proper\nexpiatory sacrifice; he turned aside, by enduring it for them, the\ninfinite punishment of sin from all past or future believers in this\nefficacy of the cross; and transferred to them the natural rewards of\nhis own righteousness. An acceptance of this doctrine is declared to be\nthe prime condition of the Divine forgiveness; for no one who does not\n_see_ the pardon can _have_ it. And this pardon, again, this clear score\nfor the past, is a necessary preliminary to all sanctification; to all\npractical opening of a disinterested heart towards our Creator and man.\nPardon, and the perception of it, are the needful preludes to that\nconforming love to God and men, which is the true Christian salvation.\n\nThe evidence in support of this theory is derived partly from natural\nappearances, partly from Scriptural announcements. Involving, as it\ndoes, statements respecting the actual condition of human nature, and\nthe world in which we live, some appeal to experience, and to the\nrational interpretation of life and Providence, is inevitable; and hence\ncertain propositions, affecting to be of a philosophical character, are\nlaid down as fundamental by the advocates of this system. Yet it is\nadmitted, that direct revelation only could have acquainted us, either\nwith our lost condition, or our vicarious recovery; and that all we can\nexpect to accomplish with nature, is to harmonize what we observe there\nwith what we read in the written records of God's will; so that the main\nstress of the argument rests on the interpretation of Scripture. The\nprinciples deduced from the nature of things, and laid down as a basis\nfor this doctrine, may be thus represented:--\n\nThat man needs a Redeemer; having obviously fallen, by some disaster,\ninto a state of misery and guilt, from which the worst penal\nconsequences must be apprehended; and were it not for the probability\nof such lapse from the condition in which it was fashioned, it would\nbe impossible to reconcile the phenomena of the world with the justice\nand benevolence of its Creator.\n\nThat Deity only can redeem; since, to preserve veracity, the penalty\nof sin must be inflicted; and the diversion only, not the annihilation\nof it, is possible. To let it fall on angels would fail of the desired\nend; because human sin, having been directed against an Infinite\nBeing, has incurred an infinitude of punishment; which on no created\nbeings could be exhausted in any period short of eternity. Only a\nnature strictly infinite can compress within itself, in the compass of\nan hour, the woes distributed over the immortality of mankind. Hence,\nwere God personally One, like man, no redemption could be effected;\nfor there would be no Deity to suffer, except the very One who must\npunish. But the triplicity of the Godhead relieves all difficulty;\nfor, while one Infinite inflicts, another Infinite endures; and\nresources are furnished for the atonement.\n\nAmid a great variety of forms in which the theory of atonement exists,\nI have selected the foregoing; which, if I understand aright, is that\nwhich is vindicated in the present controversy. I am not aware that I\nhave added anything to the language in which it is stated by its\npowerful advocate, unless it be a few phrases, leaving its essential\nmeaning the same, but needful to render it compact and clear.\n\nThe Scriptural evidence is found principally in certain of the\nApostolical Epistles; and this circumstance will render it necessary\nto conduct a separate search into the historical writings of the New\nTestament, that we may ascertain how they express the corresponding\nset of ideas. Taking up successively these two branches of the\nsubject, the natural and the Biblical, I propose to show, first, that\nthis doctrine is inconsistent with itself; secondly, that it is\ninconsistent with the Christian idea of salvation.\n\nI. It is inconsistent with itself.\n\n(1.) In its manner of treating the principles of natural religion.\n\nOur faith in the infinite benevolence of God is represented as\ndestitute of adequate support from the testimony of nature. It\nrequires, we are assured, the suppression of a mass of appearances,\nthat would scare it away in an instant, were it to venture into their\npresence; and is a dream of sickly and effeminate minds, whose belief\nis the inward growth of amiable sentimentality, rather than a genuine\nproduction from God's own facts. The appeal to the order and\nmagnificence of creation, to the structures and relations of the\ninorganic, the vegetable, the animal, the spiritual forms, that fill\nthe ascending ranks of this visible and conscious universe;--to the\narrangements which make it a blessing to be born, far more than a\nsuffering to die,--which enable us to extract the relish of life from\nits toils, the affections of our nature from its sufferings, the\ntriumphs of goodness from its temptations;--to the seeming plan of\ngeneral progress, which elicits truth by the self-destruction of\nerror, and by the extinction of generations gives perpetual\nrejuvenescence to the world;--this appeal, which is another name for\nthe scheme of natural religion, is dismissed with scorn; and sin and\nsorrow and death are flung in defiance across our path,--barriers\nwhich we must remove, ere we can reach the presence of a benignant\nGod. Come with us, it is said, and listen to the wail of the sick\ninfant; look into the dingy haunts where poverty moans its life away;\nbend down your ear to the accursed hum that strays from the busy hives\nof guilt; spy into the hold of the slave-ship; from the factory follow\nthe wasted child to the gin-shop first, and then to the cellar called\nits home; or look even at your own tempted and sin-bound souls, and\nyour own perishing race, snatched off into the dark by handfuls\nthrough the activity of a destroying God; and tell us, did our\nbenevolent Creator make a creature and a world like this? A Calvinist\nwho puts this question is playing with fire. But I answer the question\nexplicitly: All these things we have met steadily, and face to face;\nin full view of them, we have taken up our faith in the goodness of\nGod; and in full view of them we will hold fast that faith. Nor is it\njust or true to affirm, that our system hides these evils, or that our\npractice refuses to grapple with them. And if you confess that these\nills of life would be too much for your natural piety, if you declare,\nthat these rugged foundations and tempestuous elements of Providence\nwould starve and crush your confidence in God, while ours strikes its\nroots in the rock, and throws out its branches to brave the storm, are\nyou entitled to taunt us with a faith of puny growth? Meanwhile, we\nwillingly assent to the principle which this appeal to evil is\ndesigned to establish; that, with much apparent order, there is some\napparent disorder in the phenomena of the world; that from the latter,\nby itself, we should be unable to infer any goodness and benevolence\nin God; and that, were not the former clearly the predominant result\nof natural laws, the character of the Great Cause of all things would\nbe involved in agonizing gloom. The mass of physical and moral evil we\ndo not profess fully to explain; we think that in no system whatever\nis there any approach to an explanation; and we are accustomed to\ntouch on that dread subject with the humility of filial trust, not\nwith the confidence of dogmatic elucidation.\n\nSurely the fall of our first parents, I shall be reminded, gives the\nrequisite solution. The disaster which then befell the human race has\nchanged the primeval constitution of things; introduced mortality and\nall the infirmities of which it is the result; introduced sin, and all\nthe seeds of vile affections which it compels us to inherit; introduced\nalso the penalties of sin, visible in part on this scene of life, and\ndeveloping themselves in another in anguish everlasting. Fresh from the\nhand of his Creator, man was innocent, happy, and holy; and he it is,\nnot God, who has deformed the world with guilt and grief.\n\nNow, _as a statement of fact_, all this may or may not be true. Of this\nI say nothing. But who does not see that, _as an explanation_, it is\ninconsistent with itself, partial in its application, and leaves matters\nincomparably worse than it found them? It is inconsistent with itself;\nfor Adam, perfectly pure and holy as he is reputed to have been, gave\nthe only proof that could exist of his being neither, by succumbing to\nthe first temptation that came in his way; and though finding no\nenjoyment but in the contemplation of God, gave himself up to the first\nadvances of the Devil. Never surely was a reputation for sanctity so\ncheaply won. The canonizations of the Romish Calendar have been\ncuriously bestowed on beings sufficiently remote from just ideas of\nexcellence; but usually there is _something_ to be affirmed of them,\nlegendary or otherwise, which, _if true_, might justify a momentary\nadmiration. But our first parent was not laid even under this necessity,\nto obtain a glory greater than canonization; he had simply to do\nnothing, except to fall, in order to be esteemed the most perfectly holy\nof created minds. Most partial, too, is this theory in its application;\nfor disease and hardship, and death unmerited as the infant's, afflict\nthe lower animal creation. Is this, too, the result of the fall? If so,\nit is an _unredeemed_ effect; if not, it presses on the benevolence of\nthe Maker, and, by the physical analogies which connect man with the\ninferior creatures, forces on us the impression, that his corporeal\nsufferings have an original source not dissimilar from theirs. And\nagain, this explanation only serves to make matters worse than before.\nFor how puerile is it to suppose that men will rest satisfied with\ntracing back their ills to Adam, and refrain from asking who was Adam's\ncause! And then comes upon us at once the ancient dilemma about evil;\nwas it a mistake, or was it malignity, that created so poor a creature\nas our progenitor, and staked on so precarious a will the blessedness of\na race and the well-being of a world? So far, this theory, falsely and\ninjuriously ascribed to Christianity, would leave us where we were: but\nit carries us into deeper and gratuitous difficulties, of which natural\nreligion knows nothing, by appending eternal consequences to Adam's\ntransgression; a large portion of which, after the most sanguine\nextension of the efficacy of the atonement, must remain unredeemed. So\nthat if, under the eye of naturalism, the world, with its generations\ndropping into the grave, must appear (as we heard it recently\ndescribed[13]) like the populous precincts of some castle, whose\ngovernor called his servants, after a brief indulgence of liberty and\npeace, into a dark and inscrutable dungeon, never to return or be seen\nagain, the only new feature which this theory introduces into the\nprospect is this: that the interior of that cavernous prison-house is\ndisclosed; and while a few of the departed are seen to have emerged into\na fairer light, and to be traversing greener fields, and sharing a more\nblessed liberty than they knew before, the vast multitude are discerned\nin the gripe of everlasting chains and the twist of unimaginable\ntorture. And all this infliction is a penal consequence of a first\nancestor's transgression! Singular spectacle to be offered in\nvindication of the character of God!\n\nWe are warned, however, not to start back from this representation, or\nto indulge in any rash expression at the view which it gives of the\njustice of the Most High; for that, beyond all doubt, parallel instances\noccur in the operations of nature; and that, if the system deduced from\nScripture accords with that which is in action in the creation, there\narises a strong presumption that both are from the same Author. The\narrangement which is the prime subject of objection in the foregoing\ntheory, viz. the vicarious transmission of consequences from acts of\nvice and virtue, is said to be familiar to our observation as a _fact_;\nand ought, therefore, to present no difficulties in the way of the\nadmission of a _doctrine_. Is it not obvious, for example, that the\nguilt of a parent may entail disease and premature death on his child,\nor even remoter descendants? And if it be consistent with the Divine\nperfections that the innocent should suffer for others' sins at the\ndistance of one generation, why not at the distance of a thousand? The\nguiltless victim is not more completely severed from identity with Adam,\nthan he is from identity with his own father. My reply is brief: I admit\nboth the fact and the analogy; but the fact is of the exceptional kind,\nfrom which, by itself, I could not infer the justice or the benevolence\nof the Creator; and which, were it of large and prevalent amount, I\ncould not even reconcile with these perfections. If then you take it\nout of the list of exceptions and difficulties, and erect it into a\ncardinal rule, if you interpret by it the whole invisible portion of\nGod's government, you turn the scale at once against the character of\nthe Supreme, and plant creation under a tyrant's sway. And this is the\nfatal principle pervading all analogical arguments in defence of\nTrinitarian Christianity. No resemblances to the system can be found in\nthe universe, except in those anomalies and seeming deformities which\nperplex the student of Providence, and which would undermine his faith,\nwere they not lost in the vast spectacle of beauty and of good. These\ndisorders are selected and spread out to view, as specimens of the\nDivine government of nature; the mysteries and horrors which offend us\nin the popular theology are extended by their side; the comparison is\nmade, point by point, till the similitude is undeniably made out; and\nwhen the argument is closed it amounts to this: Do you doubt whether God\ncould break men's limbs? You mistake his strength of character; only see\nhow he puts out their eyes! What kind of impression this reasoning may\nhave, seems to me doubtful even to agony. Both Trinitarian theology and\nnature, it is triumphantly urged, must proceed from the same Author; ay,\nbut what sort of author is that? You have led me, in your quest after\nanalogies, through the great infirmary of God's creation; and so haunted\nam I by the sights and sounds of the lazar-house, that scarce can I\nbelieve in anything but pestilence; so sick of soul have I become, that\nthe mountain breeze has lost its scent of health; and you say, it is all\nthe same in the other world, and wherever the same rule extends: then I\nknow my fate, that in this universe Justice has no throne. And thus, my\nfriends, it comes to pass, that these reasoners often gain indeed their\nvictory; but it is known only to the Searcher of Hearts, whether it is a\nvictory against natural religion, or in favor of revealed. For this\nreason I consider the \"Analogy\" of Bishop Butler (one of the profoundest\nof thinkers, and on purely moral subjects one of the justest too) as\ncontaining, with a design directly contrary, the most terrible\npersuasives to Atheism that have ever been produced. The essential error\nconsists in selecting the difficulties,--which are the rare, exceptional\nphenomena of nature,--as the basis of analogy and argument. In the\ncomprehensive and generous study of Providence, the mind may, indeed,\nalready have overcome the difficulties, and, with the lights recently\ngained from the harmony, design, and order of creation, have made those\nshadows pass imperceptibly away; but when forced again into their very\ncentre, compelled to adopt them as a fixed station and point of mental\nvision, they deepen round the heart again, and, instead of illustrating\nanything, become solid darkness themselves.\n\nI cannot quit this topic without observing, however, that there\nappears to be nothing in nature and life at all analogous to the\nvicarious principle attributed to God in the Trinitarian scheme of\nRedemption. There is nowhere to be found any proper transfer or\nexchange, either of the qualities, or of the consequences, of vice and\nvirtue. The good and evil acts of men do indeed affect others _as\nwell_ as themselves; the innocent suffer _with_ the guilty, as in the\ncase before adduced, of a child suffering in health by the excesses of\na parent. But there is here no endurance _for_ another, similar to\nChrist's alleged endurance in the place of men; the infliction on the\nchild is not deducted from the parent; it does nothing to lighten his\nload, or make it less than it would have been, had he been without\ndescendants; nor does any one suppose his guilt alleviated by the\nexistence of this innocent fellow-sufferer. There is a nearer approach\nto analogy in those cases of crime, where the perpetrator seems to\nescape, and to leave the consequences of his act to descend on others;\nas when the successful cheat eludes pursuit, and from the stolen gains\nof neighbors constructs a life of luxury for himself; or when a\nspendthrift government, forgetful of its high trust, turning the\nprofessions of patriotism into a lie, is permitted to run a prosperous\ncareer for one generation, and is personally gone before the popular\nretribution falls, in the next, on innocent successors. Here, no\ndoubt, the harmless suffer _by_ the guilty, in a certain sense _in\nthe place of_ the guilty: but not in the sense which the analogy\nrequires. For there is still no substitution; the distress of the\nunoffending party is not struck out of the offender's punishment; does\nnot lessen, but rather aggravates, his guilt; and, instead of fitting\nhim for pardon, tempts the natural sentiments of justice to follow him\nwith severer condemnation. Nor does the scheme receive any better\nillustration from the fact, that whoever attempts the cure of misery\nmust himself suffer; must have the shadows of ill cast upon his spirit\nfrom every sadness he alleviates; and interpose himself to stay the\nplague which, in a world diseased, threatens to pass to the living\nfrom the dead. The parallel fails, because there is still no\ntransference: the appropriate sufferings of sin are not given to the\nphilanthropist; and the noble pains of goodness in him, the glorious\nstrife of his self-sacrifice, are no part of the penal consequences of\nothers' guilt; they do not cancel one iota of those consequences, or\nmake the crimes which have demanded them, in any way, more ready for\nforgiveness. Indeed, it is not in the good man's _sufferings_,\nconsidered as such, that any efficacy resides; but in his _efforts_,\nwhich may be made with great sacrifice or without it, as the case may\nbe. Nor, at best, is there any proper annihilation of consequences at\nall accruing from his toils; the past acts of wrong which call up his\nresisting energies are irrevocable, the guilt incurred, the penalty\nindestructible; the series of effects, foreign to the mind of the\nperpetrator, may be abbreviated; prevention applied to new ills which\nthreaten to arise; but by all this the personal fitness of the\ndelinquent for forgiveness is wholly unaffected; the volition of sin\nhas gone forth, and on it flies, as surely as sound on a vibration of\nthe air, the verdict of judgment.\n\nThose who are affected by slight and failing analogies like these,\nwould do well to consider one, sufficiently obvious, which seems to\nthrow doubt upon their scheme. The atonement is thought to be, in\nrespect to all believers, a reversal of the fall: the effects of the\nfall are partly visible and temporal, partly invisible and eternal;\nlinked, however, together as inseparable portions of the same penal\nsystem. Now it is evident, that the supposed redemption on the cross\nhas left precisely where they were all the _visible_ effects of the\nfirst transgression: sorrow and toil are the lot of all, as they have\nbeen from of old; the baptized infant utters a cry as sad as the\nunbaptized; and between the holiness of the true believer and the\nworth of the devout heretic, there is not discernible such a\ndifference as there must have been between Adam pure and perfect and\nAdam lapsed and lost. And is it presumptuous to reason from the seen\nto the unseen, from the part which we experience to that which we can\nonly conceive? If the known effects are unredeemed, the suspicion is\nnot unnatural, that so are the unknown.\n\nI sum up, then, this part of my subject by observing, that, besides\nmany inconclusive appeals to nature, the advocates of the vicarious\nscheme are chargeable with this fundamental inconsistency. They appear\nto deny that the justice and benevolence of God can be reconciled with\nthe phenomena of nature; and say that the evidence must be helped out\nby resort to their interpretation of Scripture. When, having heard\nthis auxiliary system, we protest that it renders the case sadder than\nbefore, they assure us that it is all benevolent and just, because it\nhas its parallel in creation. They renounce and adopt, in the same\nbreath, the religious appeal to the universe of God.\n\n(2.) Another inconsistency appears, in the view which this theory\ngives of the character of God.\n\nIt is assumed that, at the era of creation, the Maker of mankind had\nannounced the infinite penalties which must follow the violation of\nhis law; and that their amount did not exceed the measure which his\nabhorrence of wrong required. \"And that which he saith, he would not\nbe God if he did not perform: that which he perceived right, he would\nbe unworthy of our trust, did he not fulfil. His veracity and justice,\ntherefore, were pledged to adhere to the word that had gone forth; and\nexcluded the possibility of any free and unconditional forgiveness.\"\nNow I would note, in passing, that this announcement to Adam of an\neternal punishment impending over his first sin, is simply a fiction;\nfor the warning to him is stated thus: \"In the day that thou eatest\nthereof, thou shalt surely die\"; from which our progenitor must have\nbeen ingenious as a theologian, to extract the idea of endless life in\nhell. But to say no more of this, what notions of veracity have we\nhere? When a sentence is proclaimed against crime, is it indifferent\nto judicial truth _upon whom_ it falls? Personally addressed to the\nguilty, may it descend without a lie upon the guiltless? Provided\nthere is the suffering, is it no matter _where_? Is this the sense in\nwhich God is no respecter of persons? O what deplorable reflection of\nhuman artifice is this, that Heaven is too veracious to abandon its\nproclamation of menace against transgressors, yet is content to vent\nit on goodness the most perfect! No darker deed can be imagined, than\nis thus ascribed to the Source of all perfection, under the insulted\nnames of truth and holiness. What reliance could we have on the\nfaithfulness of such a Being? If it be consistent with his nature to\n_punish_ by substitution, what security is there that he will not\n_reward_ vicariously? All must be loose and unsettled, the sentiments\nof reverence confused, the perceptions of conscience indistinct, where\nthe terms expressive of those great moral qualities which render God\nhimself most venerable are thus sported with and profaned.\n\nThe same extraordinary departure from all intelligible meaning of\nwords is apparent, when our charge of vindictiveness against the\ndoctrine of sacrifice is repelled as a slander. If the rigorous\nrefusal of pardon till the whole penalty has been inflicted, (when,\nindeed, it is no pardon at all,) be not vindictive, we may ask to be\nfurnished with some better definition. And though it is said, that\nGod's love was manifested to us by the gift of his Son, this does but\nchange the object on which this quality is exercised, without removing\nthe quality itself; putting _us_ indeed into the sunshine of his\ngrace, but _the Saviour_ into the tempest of his wrath. Did we desire\nto sketch the most dreadful form of character, what more emphatic\ncombination could we invent than this,--rigor in the exaction of penal\nsuffering, and indifference as to the person on whom it falls?\n\nBut in truth this system, in its delineations of the Great Ruler of\ncreation, bids defiance to all the analogies by which Christ and the\nChristian heart have delighted to illustrate his nature. A God who\ncould accept the spontaneously returning sinner, and restore him by\ncorrective discipline, is pronounced not worth serving, and an object\nof contempt.[14] If so, Jesus sketched an object of contempt when he\ndrew the father of the prodigal son, opening his arms to the poor\npenitent, and needing only the sight of his misery to fall on his neck\nwith the kiss of welcome home. Let the assertions be true, that\nsacrifice and satisfaction are needful preliminaries to pardon, that\nto pay any attention to repentance without these is mere weakness, and\nthat it is a perilous deception to teach the doctrine of mercy apart\nfrom the atonement, and this parable of our Saviour's becomes the most\npernicious instrument of delusion,--a statement, absolute and\nunqualified, of a feeble and sentimental heresy. Who does not see what\nfollows from this scornful exclusion of corrective punishment? Suppose\nthe infliction not to be corrective, that is, not to be designed for\nany good, what then remains as the cause of the Divine retribution?\nThe sense of insult offered to a law. And thus we are virtually told,\nthat God must be regarded with a mixture of contempt, unless he be\nsusceptible of personal affront.\n\n(3.) The last inconsistency with itself, which I shall point out in\nthis doctrine, will be found in the view which it gives of the work of\nChrist. Sin, we are assured, is necessarily infinite. Its infinitude\narises from its reference to an Infinite Being, and involves as a\nconsequence the necessity of redemption by Deity himself.\n\nThe position, that guilt is to be estimated, not by its amount or its\nmotive, but by the dignity of the being against whom it is directed,\nis illustrated by the case of an insubordinate soldier, whose\npunishment is increased according as his rebellion assails an equal\nor any of the many grades amongst his superiors. It is evident,\nhowever, that it is not the dignity of the person, but the magnitude\nof the effect, which determines the severity of the sanction by which,\nin such an instance, law enforces order. Insult to a monarch is more\nsternly treated than injury to a subject, because it incurs the risk\nof wider and more disastrous consequences, and superadds to the\npersonal injury a peril to an official power which, not resting on\nindividual superiority, but on conventional arrangement, is always\nprecarious. It is not indeed easy to form a distinct notion of an\ninfinite act in a finite agent; and still less is it easy to evade the\ninference, that, if an immoral deed against God be an infinite\ndemerit, a moral deed towards him must be an infinite merit.\n\nPassing by an assertion so unmeaning, and conceding it for the sake of\nprogress in our argument, I would inquire what is intended by that\nother statement, that only Deity can redeem, and that by Deity the\nsacrifice was made? The union of the divine and human natures in\nChrist is said to have made his sufferings meritorious in an infinite\ndegree. Yet we are repeatedly assured, that it was in his manhood only\nthat he endured and died. If the divine nature in our Lord had a joint\nconsciousness with the human, then did God suffer and perish; if not,\nthen did the man only die, Deity being no more affected by his\nanguish, than by that of the malefactors on either side. In the one\ncase the perfections of God, in the other the reality of the\natonement, must be relinquished. No doubt, the popular belief is, that\nthe Creator literally expired; the hymns in common use declare it; the\nlanguage of pulpits sanctions it; the consistency of creeds requires\nit; but professed theologians repudiate the idea with indignation. Yet\nby silence or ambiguous speech, they encourage, in those whom they are\nbound to enlighten, this degrading humanization of Deity; which\nrenders it impossible for common minds to avoid ascribing to him\nemotions and infirmities totally irreconcilable with the serene\nperfections of the Universal Mind. In his influence on the\nworshipper, _He_ is no Spirit, who can be invoked by his agony and\nbloody sweat, his cross and passion. And the piety that is thus taught\nto bring its incense, however sincere, before the mental image of a\nbeing with convulsed features and expiring cry, has little left of\nthat which makes Christian devotion characteristically venerable.\n\nII. I proceed to notice the inconsistency of the doctrine under review\nwith the Christian idea of salvation.\n\nThere is one _significant Scriptural fact_, which suggests to us the\nbest mode of treating this part of our subject. It is this: that the\nlanguage supposed to teach the atoning efficacy of the cross does not\nappear in the New Testament till the Gentile controversy commences,\nnor ever occurs apart from the treatment of that subject, under some\nof its relations. The cause of this phenomenon will presently appear;\nmeanwhile I state it, in the place of an assertion sometimes\nincorrectly made, viz. that the phraseology in question is confined to\nthe Epistles. Even this mechanical limitation of sacrificial passages\nis indeed nearly true, as not above three or four have strayed beyond\nthe epistolary boundary into the Gospels and the book of Acts; but the\nrestriction in respect of subject, which I have stated, will be found,\nI believe, to be absolutely exact, and to furnish the real\ninterpretation to the whole system of language.\n\n(1.) Let us then first test the vicarious scheme by reference to the\nsentiments of Scripture generally, and of our Lord and his Apostles\nespecially, where this controversy is out of the way. Are their ideas\nrespecting human character, the forgiveness of sin, the terms of\neverlasting life, accordant with the cardinal notions of a believer in\nthe atonement? Do they, or do they not, insist on the necessity of a\nsacrifice for human sin, as a preliminary to pardon, to\nsanctification, to the love of God? Do they, or do they not, direct a\nmarked and almost exclusive attention to the cross, as the object to\nwhich, far more than to the life and resurrection of our Lord, all\nfaithful eyes should be directed?\n\n(a.) Now to the fundamental assertion of the vicarious system, that\nthe Deity cannot, without inconsistency and imperfection, pardon on\nsimple repentance, the whole tenor of the Bible is one protracted and\nunequivocal contradiction. So copious is its testimony on this head,\nthat if the passages containing it were removed, scarcely a shred of\nScripture relating to the subject would remain. \"Pardon, I beseech\nthee,\" said Moses, pleading for the Israelites, \"the iniquity of this\npeople, according to the greatness of thy mercy, and as thou hast\nforgiven this people from Egypt even until now. And the Lord said, _I\nhave pardoned according to thy word_.\" Will it be affirmed, that this\nchosen people had their eyes perpetually fixed in faith on the great\npropitiation, which was to close their dispensation, and of which\ntheir own ceremonial was a type?--that whenever penitence and pardon\nare named amongst them, this reference is implied, and that as this\nfaith was called to mind and expressed in the shedding of blood at the\naltar, such sacrificial offerings take the place, in Judaism, of the\natoning trust in Christianity? Well, then, let us quit the chosen\nnation altogether, and go to a heathen people, who were aliens to\ntheir laws, their blood, their hopes, and their religion; to whom no\nsacrifice was appointed, and no Messiah promised. If we can discover\nthe dealings of God with such a people, the case, I presume, must be\ndeemed conclusive. Hear, then, what happened on the banks of the\nTigris. \"Jonah began to enter into the city,\" (Nineveh,) \"and he cried\nand said, yet forty days and Nineveh shall be overthrown. So the\npeople of Nineveh believed God, and proclaimed a fast, and put on\nsackcloth, from the greatest of them even unto the least of them.\"\n\"Who can tell,\" (said the decree of the king ordaining the fast,) \"if\nGod will turn and repent, and turn away from his fierce anger, that we\nperish not? And God saw their works, that they turned from their evil\nway; and God repented of the evil that he had said he would do unto\nthem; and he did it not.\" And when the prophet was offended, first at\nthis clemency to Nineveh, and afterwards that the canker was sent to\ndestroy his own favorite plant, beneath whose shadow he sat, what did\nJehovah say? \"Thou hast had pity on the gourd, for which thou hast not\nlabored, neither madest it grow; which came up in a night and perished\nin a night; and should not I spare Nineveh, that great city, wherein\nare more than sixscore thousand persons that cannot discern between\ntheir right hand and their left hand?\"--and who are not likely, one\nwould think, to have discerned the future merits of the Redeemer.\n\nIn truth, if even the Israelites had any such prospective views to\nCalvary, if their sacrifices conveyed the idea of the cross erected\nthere, and were established for this purpose, the fact must have been\nprivately revealed to modern theologians; for not a trace of it can be\nfound in the Hebrew writings. It must be thought strange, that a\nprophetic reference so habitual should be always a secret reference;\nthat a faith so fundamental should be so mysteriously suppressed; that\nthe uppermost idea of a nation's mind should never have found its way to\nlips or pen. \"But if it were not so,\" we are reminded, \"if the Jewish\nritual prefigured nothing ulterior, it was revolting, trifling, savage;\nits worship a butchery, and the temple courts no better than a\nslaughter-house.\" And were they not equally so, though the theory of\ntypes be true? If neither priest nor people could _see at the time_ the\nvery thing which the ceremonial was constructed to reveal, what\nadvantage is it that divines can see it _now_? And even if the notion\nwas conveyed to the Jewish mind, (which the whole history shows not to\nhave been the fact,) was it necessary that hecatombs should be slain,\nage after age, to intimate obscurely an idea, which one brief sentence\nmight have lucidly expressed? The idea, however, it is evident, slipped\nthrough after all; for when Messiah actually came, the one great thing\nwhich the Jews did _not_ know and believe about him was, that he could\ndie at all. So much for the preparatory discipline of fifteen centuries!\n\nThere is no reason, then, why anything should be supplied in our\nthoughts, to alter the plain meaning of the announcements of prophets\nand holy men, of God's unconditional forgiveness on repentance. \"Thou\ndesirest not sacrifice, else would I give it; thou delightest not in\nburnt-offering; the sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken\nand a contrite heart, O God, thou wilt not despise.\" \"Wash you, make\nyou clean,\" says the prophet Isaiah in the name of the Lord; \"put away\nthe evil of your doings from before mine eyes, cease to do evil, learn\nto do well; seek judgment, relieve the oppressed, judge the\nfatherless, plead for the widow. Come now, and let us reason together,\nsaith the Lord; though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be white as\nsnow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool.\" Once\nmore, \"When I say unto the wicked, thou shalt surely die; if he turn\nfrom his sin, and do that which is lawful and right; if the wicked\nrestore the pledge, give again that he hath robbed, walk in the\nstatutes of life without committing iniquity; he shall surely live, he\nshall not die.\" Nor are the teachings of the Gospel at all less\nexplicit. Our Lord treats largely and expressly on the doctrine of\nforgiveness in several parables, and especially that of the prodigal\nson; and omits all allusion to the propitiation for the past. He\nfurnishes an express definition of the terms of eternal life: \"Good\nmaster, what good thing shall I do, that I may have eternal life? And\nhe said unto him, Why callest thou me good? there is none good save\none, that is God; but if thou wilt enter into life, keep the\ncommandments.\" And Jesus adds, \"If thou wilt be perfect, go and sell\nthat thou hast, and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in\nheaven; and come, follow me.\" This silence on the prime condition of\npardon cannot be explained by the fact, that the crucifixion had not\nyet taken place, and could not safely be alluded to, before the course\nof events had brought it into prominent notice. For we have the\npreaching of the Apostles, after the ascension, recorded at great\nlength, and under very various circumstances, in the book of Acts. We\nhave the very \"words whereby,\" according to the testimony of an angel,\n\"Cornelius and all his house shall be saved\"; these, one would think,\nwould be worth hearing in this cause: \"God anointed Jesus of Nazareth\nwith the Holy Ghost, and with power; who went about doing good, and\nhealing all that were oppressed of the Devil, for God was with him.\nAnd we are witnesses of all things which he did, both in the land of\nthe Jews and in Jerusalem; whom they slew and hanged on a tree. Him\nGod raised up the third day, and showed openly; not to all the people,\nbut unto witnesses chosen before of God, even to us, who did eat and\ndrink with him after he rose from the dead. And he commanded us to\npreach unto the people, and to testify that it is he who was ordained\nof God to be the judge of quick and dead. To him give all the prophets\nwitness, that through his name whosoever believeth in him shall\nreceive remission of sins.\" Did an Evangelical missionary dare to\npreach in this style now, he would be immediately disowned by his\nemployers, and dismissed as a disguised Socinian, who kept back all\nthe \"peculiar doctrines of the Gospel.\"\n\n(b.) The emphatic mention of the resurrection by the Apostle Peter in\nthis address, is only a particular instance of a system which pervades\nthe whole preaching of the first missionaries of Christ. _This_, and\nnot the cross, with its supposed effects, is the grand object to which\nthey call the attention and the faith of their hearers. I cannot quote\nto you the whole book of Acts; but every reader knows, that \"Jesus and\nthe resurrection\" constitutes the leading theme, the central\ncombination of ideas in all its discourses. This truth was shed, from\nPeter's tongue of fire, on the multitudes that heard amazed the\ninspiration of the day of Pentecost. Again, it was his text, when,\npassing beneath the beautiful gate, he made the cripple leap for joy;\nand then, with the flush of this deed still fresh upon him, leaned\nagainst a pillar in Solomon's porch, and spake in explanation to the\nawe-struck people, thronging in at the hour of prayer. Before priests\nand rulers, before Sanhedrim and populace, the same tale is told\nagain, to the utter exclusion, be it observed, of the essential\ndoctrine of the cross. The authorities of the temple, we are told,\nwere galled and terrified at the Apostle's preaching; \"naturally\nenough,\" it will be said, \"since, the real sacrifice having been\noffered, their vocation, which was to make the prefatory and typical\noblation, was threatened with destruction.\" But no, this is not the\nreason given: \"They were grieved because they preached, through Jesus,\nthe resurrection from the dead.\" Paul, too, while his preaching was\nspontaneous and free, and until he had to argue certain controversies\nwhich have long ago become obsolete, manifested a no less remarkable\npredilection for this topic. Before Felix, he declares what was the\ngrand indictment of his countrymen against him: \"Touching the\nresurrection of the dead, I am called in question of you this day.\"\nFollow him far away from his own land; and, with foreigners, he harps\nupon the same subject, as if he were a man of one idea; which, indeed,\naccording to our opponents' scheme, he ought to have been, only it\nshould have been _another idea_. Seldom, however, can we meet with a\nmore exuberant mind than Paul's; yet the resurrection obviously haunts\nhim wherever he goes: in the synagogue of Antioch you hear him\ndwelling on it with all the energy of his inspiration; and, at Athens,\nit was this on which the scepticism of Epicureans and Stoics fastened\nfor a scoff. In his Epistles, too, where he enlarges so much on\njustification by faith, when we inquire what precisely is this faith,\nand what the object it is to contemplate and embrace, this remarkable\nfact presents itself: that the one only important thing respecting\nChrist, which is _never once_ mentioned as the object of justifying\nfaith, is _his death_, _and blood_, _and cross_. \"Faith\" by itself,\nthe \"faith of Jesus Christ,\" \"faith of the Gospel,\" \"faith of the Son\nof God,\" are expressions of constant occurrence; and wherever this\ngeneral description is replaced by a more specific account of this\njustifying state of mind, it is _faith in the resurrection_ on which\nattention is fastened. \"It is Christ that died, _yea, rather, that is\nrisen again_.\" \"He was delivered for our offences, and _raised again\nfor our justification_.\" \"Faith shall be imputed to us for\nrighteousness, if we believe on _him that raised up Jesus our Lord\nfrom the dead_.\" Hear, too, the Apostle's definition of saving faith:\n\"If thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt\nbelieve in thy heart _that God hath raised him from the dead_, thou\nshalt be saved.\" The only instance in which the writings of St. Paul\nappear to associate the word faith with the death of Christ, is the\nfollowing text: \"Whom God hath set forth to be a propitiation through\nfaith in his blood\"; and in this case the Apostle's meaning would, I\nconceive, be more faithfully given by destroying this conjunction, and\ndisposing the words thus: \"Whom God hath set forth to be a\npropitiation by his blood, through faith.\" The idea of his _blood_, or\n_death_, belongs to the word propitiation, not to the word faith. To\nthis translation no Trinitarian scholar, I am persuaded, can\nobject;[15] and when the true meaning of the writer's sacrificial\nlanguage is explained, the distinction will appear to be not\nunimportant. At present I am concerned only with the defence of my\nposition, that the death of Christ is never mentioned as the object of\nsaving faith; but that his resurrection unquestionably is. This\nphenomenon in Scripture phraseology is so extraordinary, so utterly\nrepugnant to everything which a hearer of orthodox preaching would\nexpect, that I hardly expect my affirmation of it to be believed. The\ntwo ideas of _faith_, and of our _Lord's death_, are so naturally and\nperpetually united in the mind of every believer in the atonement,\nthat it must appear to him incredible that they should never fall\ntogether in the writings of the Apostles. However, I have stated my\nfact; and it is for you to bring it to the test of Scripture.\n\n(c.) Independently of all written testimony, moral reasons, we are\nassured, exist, which render an absolute remission for the past\nessential to a regenerated life for the future. Our human nature is said\nto be so constituted, that the burden of sin, on the conscience once\nawakened, is intolerable; our spirit cries aloud for mercy; yet is so\nstraitened by the bands of sin, so conscious of the sad alliance\nlingering still, so full of hesitancy and shame when seeking the relief\nof prayer, so blinded by its tears when scanning the heavens for an\nopening of light and hope, that there is no freedom, no unrestrained and\nhappy love to God; but a pinched and anxious mind, bereft of power,\nstriving to work with bandaged or paralytic will, instead of trusting\nitself to loosened and self-oblivious affections. Hence it is thought,\nthat the sin of the past must be cancelled, before the holiness of the\nfuture can be commenced; that it is a false order to represent\nrepentance as leading to pardon, because to be forgiven is the\nprerequisite to love. We cannot forget, however, how distinctly and\nemphatically he who, after God, best knew what is in man, has\ncontradicted this sentiment; for when that sinful woman, whose presence\nin the house shocked the sanctimonious Pharisee, stood at his feet as he\nreclined, washing them with her tears, and kissing them with reverential\nlips, Jesus turned to her and said, \"Her sins, which are many, are\nforgiven; _for_ she loved much.\" From him, then, we learn, what our own\nhearts would almost teach, that love may be the prelude to forgiveness,\nas well as forgiveness the preparative for love.\n\nAt the same time let me acknowledge, that this statement respecting\nthe moral effects of conscious pardon, to which I have invoked Jesus\nto reply, is by no means an unmixed error. It touches upon a very\nprofound and important truth; and I can never bring myself to regard\nthat assurance of Divine forgiveness, which the doctrine of atonement\nimparts, as a demoralizing state of mind, encouraging laxity of\nconscience and a continuance in sin. The sense of pardon, doubtless,\nreaches the secret springs of gratitude, presents the soul with an\nobject, strange before, of new and divine affection, and binds the\nchild of redemption, by all generous and filial obligations, to serve\nwith free and willing heart the God who hath gone forth to meet him.\nThat the motives of self-interest are diminished in such a case, is a\ntrifle that need occasion small anxiety. For the human heart is no\nlaborer for hire; and, where there is opportunity afforded for true\nand noble love, will thrust away the proffered wages, and toil rather\nin a free and thankful spirit. If we are to compare, as a source of\nduty, the grateful with the merely prudential temper, rather may we\ntrust the first, as not the worthier only, but the stronger too; and\ntill we obtain emancipation from the latter,--forget the computations\nof hope and fear, and precipitate ourselves for better or for worse on\nsome object of divine love and trust,--our nature will be puny and\nweak, our wills will turn in sickness from their duty, and our\naffections shrink in aversion from their heaven. But though personal\ngratitude is better than prudence, there is a higher service still. A\nmore disinterested love may spring from the contemplation of what God\nis in himself, than from the recollection of what he has done for us;\nand when this mingles most largely as an element among our springs of\naction; when, humbled indeed by a knowledge of dangers that await us,\nand thankful, too, for the blessings spread around us, we yet desire\nchiefly to be fitting children of the everlasting Father and the holy\nGod; when we venerate him for the graciousness, and purity, and\nmajesty of his spirit, impersonated in Jesus, and resolve to serve him\ntruly, _before_ he has granted the desire of our heart, and because he\nis of a nature so sublime and merciful and good;--then are we in the\ncondition of her who bent over the feet of Christ; and we are\nforgiven, because we have loved much.\n\n(2.) Let us now, in conclusion, turn our attention to those portions\nof the New Testament which speak of the death of Christ as the means\nof redemption.\n\nI have said, that these are to be found exclusively in passages of the\nsacred writings which treat of the Gentile controversy, or of topics\nimmediately connected with it. This controversy arose naturally out of\nthe design of Providence to make the narrow, exclusive, ceremonial\nsystem of Judaism give birth to the universal and spiritual religion of\nthe Gospel; from God's method of expanding the Hebrew Messiah into the\nSaviour of humanity. For this the nation was not prepared; to this even\nthe Hebrew Christians could not easily conform their faith; and in the\nachievement of this, or in persuading the world that it was achieved,\ndid Paul spend his noble life, and write his astonishing Epistles. The\nJews knew that the Deliverer was to be of their peculiar stock, and\ntheir royal lineage; they believed that he would gather upon himself all\nthe singularities of their race, and be a Hebrew to intensity; that he\nwould literally restore the kingdom to Israel; ay, and extend it too,\nimmeasurably beyond the bounds of its former greatness; till, in fact,\nit swallowed up all existing principalities, and powers, and thrones,\nand dominions, and became coextensive with the earth. Then in Jerusalem,\nas the centre of the vanquished nations, before the temple, as the altar\nof a humbled world, did they expect the Messiah to erect his throne; and\nwhen he had taken the seat of judgment, to summon all the tribes before\nhis tribunal, and pass on the Gentiles, excepting the few who might\nsubmit to the law, a sentence of perpetual exclusion from his realm;\nwhile his own people would be invited to the seats of honor, occupy the\nplace of authority, and sit down with him (the greatest at his right\nhand and his left) at his table in his kingdom. The holy men of old were\nto come on earth again to see this day. And many thought that every part\nof the realm thus constituted, and all its inhabitants, would never die:\nbut, like the Messiah himself, and the patriarchs whom he was to call to\nlife, would be invested with immortality. None were to be admitted to\nthese golden days except themselves; all else to be left in outer\ndarkness from this region of light, and there to perish and be seen no\nmore. The grand title to admission was conformity with the Mosaic law;\nthe most ritually scrupulous were the most secure; and the careless\nIsraelite, who forgot or omitted an offering, a tithe, a Sabbath duty,\nmight incur the penalty of exclusion and death: the law prescribed such\nmortal punishment for the smallest offence; and no one, therefore, could\nfeel himself ready with his claim, if he had not yielded a perfect\nobedience. If God were to admit him on any other plea, it would be of\npure grace and goodness, and not in fulfilment of any promise.\n\nThe Jews, being scattered over the civilized world, and having\nsynagogues in every city, came into perpetual contact with other\npeople. Nor was it possible that the Gentiles, among whom they lived,\nshould notice the singular purity and simplicity of the Israelitish\nTheism, without some of them being struck with its spirit, attracted\nby its sublime principles, and disposed to place themselves in\nreligious relations with that singular people. Having been led into\nadmiration, and even profession, of the nation's theology, they could\nnot but desire to share their hopes; which indeed were an integral\npart of their religion, and, at the Christian era, the one element in\nit to which they were most passionately attached. But this was a\nstretch of charity too great for any Hebrew; or, at all events, if\nsuch admission were ever to be thought of, it must be only on\ncondition of absolute submission to the requirements of the law. The\nGentile would naturally plead, that, as God had not made him of the\nchosen nation, he had given him no law, except that of conscience;\nthat, being without the law, he must be a law unto himself; and that,\nif he had lived according to his light, he could not be justly\nexcluded on the ground of accidental disqualification. Possibly, in\nthe provocation of dispute, the Gentile might sometimes become froward\nand insolent in his assertion of claim; and, in the pride of his\nheart, demand as a right that which, at most, could only be humbly\nhoped for as a privilege and a free gift.\n\nThus were the parties mutually placed to whom the Deliverer came. Thus\ndense and complicated was the web of prejudice which clung round the\nearly steps of the Gospel; and which must be burst or disentangled ere\nthe glad tidings could have free course and be glorified. How did\nProvidence develop from such elements the divine and everlasting\ntruth? Not by neglecting them, and speaking to mankind as if they had\nno such ideas; not by forbidding his messengers and teachers to have\nany patience with them; but, on the contrary, by using these very\nnotions as temporary means to his everlasting ends; by touching this\nand that with light before the eyes of Apostles, as if to say, there\nare good capabilities in these; the truth may be educed from them so\ngently and so wisely, that the world will find itself in light,\nwithout perceiving how it has been quitting the darkness.\n\nSo long as Christ remained on earth, he necessarily confined his\nministry to his nation. He would not have been the Messiah had he done\notherwise. By birth, by lineage, by locality, by habit, he was\naltogether theirs. Whoever, then, of his own people, during his mortal\nlife, believed in him and followed him, became a subject of the\nMessiah; ready, it was supposed, even by the Apostles themselves, to\nenter the glory of his kingdom, whenever it should please him to\nassume it; qualified at once, by the combination of pedigree and of\nbelief, to enter into life, to become a member of the kingdom of God,\nto take a place among the elect; for by all these phrases was\ndescribed the admission to the expected realm. If, then, Jesus had\nnever suffered and died, if he had never retired from this world, but\nstayed to fulfil the anticipations of his first followers, his\nMessianic kingdom might have included all the converts of the\nIsraelitish stock. From the exclusion which fell on others, they would\nhave obtained salvation. Hence, it is never in connection with the\nfirst Jewish Christians that the _death of Christ_ is mentioned.\n\nIt was otherwise, however, with the Gentiles. They could not become his\nfollowers in his mortal lifetime; and had a Messianic reign _then_ been\nset up, they must have been excluded; no missionary would have been\njustified in addressing them with invitation; they could not, as it was\nsaid, have entered into life. The Messiah must cease to be Jewish,\nbefore he could become universal; and this implied his death, by which\nalone the personal relations, which made him the property of a nation,\ncould be annihilated. To this he submitted; he disrobed himself of his\ncorporeality, he became an immortal spirit; thereby instantly burst his\nreligion open to the dimensions of the world; and, as he ascended to the\nskies, sent it forth to scatter the seeds of blessing over the field of\nthe world, long ploughed with cares, and moist with griefs, and softened\nnow to nourish in its bosom the tree of Life.\n\nNow, how would the effect of this great revolution be described to the\nproselyte Gentiles, so long vainly praying for admission to the\nIsraelitish hope. At once it destroyed their exclusion; put away as\nvalueless the Jewish claims of circumcision and law; nailed the\nhandwriting of ordinances to the cross; reconciled them that had been\nafar off; redeemed them to God by his blood, out of every tongue, and\nkindred, and people, and nation; washed them in his blood; justified\nthem _by his resurrection and ascension_; an expression, I would\nremark, unmeaning on any other explanation.\n\nEven during our Lord's personal ministry his approaching death is\nmentioned as the means of introducing the Gentiles into his Messianic\nkingdom. He adverts repeatedly to his cross, as designed to widen, by\ntheir admission, the extent of his sway; and, according to Scripture\nphrase, to yield to him \"much fruit.\" He was already on his last fatal\nvisit to Jerusalem, when, taking the hint from _the visit of some\nGreeks to him_, he exclaimed: \"The hour is come, that the Son of man\nshould be glorified. Verily, verily, I say unto you, except a grain of\nwheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone: but _if it die,\nit bringeth forth much fruit_.\" He adds, in allusion to the death he\nshould die: \"And I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw _all\nmen unto me_.\" It is for this end that he resigns for a while his\nlife,--that he may bring in the wanderers who are not of the\ncommonwealth of Israel: \"Other sheep I have, which are not of this\nfold: them also I must bring, and they shall hear my voice; and there\nshall be one fold and one shepherd: _therefore doth my Father love me,\nbecause I lay down my life_, that I may take it again.\" Many a parable\ndid Jesus utter, proclaiming his Father's intended mercy to the\nuncovenanted nations: but for himself personally he declared, \"I am\nnot sent, but to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.\" His advent\nwas a promise of _their_ economy; his office, the traditionary hope of\ntheir fathers; his birth, his life, his person, were under the Law,\nand excluded him from relations to those who were beyond its\nobligations. On the cross, all the connate peculiarities of the\nNazarene ceased to exist: when the seal of the sepulchre gave way, the\nseal of the law was broken too; the nationality of his person passed\naway; for how can an immortal be a Jew? This, then, was the time to\nopen wide the scope of his mission, and to invite to God's acceptance\nthose that fear him in every nation. Though, before, the disciple\nmight \"have known Christ after the flesh,\" and followed his steps as\nthe Hebrew Messiah, \"yet now henceforth was he to know him so no\nmore\"; these \"old things had passed away,\" since he had \"died for\nall,\"--died to become universal,--to drop all exclusive relations, and\n\"reconcile the world,\" the Gentile world, to God. Observe to whom this\n\"ministry of reconciliation\" is especially confided. As if to show\nthat it is exclusively _the risen Christ_ who belongs to all men, and\nthat his death was the instrument of the Gentiles' admission, their\ngreat Apostle was one Paul, who had not known the Saviour in his\nmortal life; who never listened to his voice till it spake from\nheaven; who himself was the convert of his ascension; and bore to him\nthe relation, not of subject to the person of a Hebrew king, but of\nspirit to spirit, unembarrassed by anything earthly, legal, or\nhistorical. Well did Paul understand the freedom and the sanctity of\nthis relation; and around the idea of the Heavenly Messiah gathered\nall his conceptions of the spirituality of the Gospel, of its power\nover the unconscious affections, rather than a reluctant will. His\nbelieving countrymen were afraid to disregard the observances of the\nlaw, lest it should be a disloyalty to God, and disqualify them for\nthe Messiah's welcome, when he came to take his power and reign. Paul\ntells them, that, while their Lord remained in this mortal state, they\nwere right; as representative of the law, and filling an office\ncreated by the religion of Judaism, he could not but have held them\n_then_ to its obligations; nor could they, without infidelity, have\nneglected its claims, any more than a wife can innocently separate\nherself from a living husband. But as the death of the man sets the\nwoman free, and makes null the law of their union, so the decease of\nChrist's body emancipates his followers from all legal relations to\nhim; and they are at liberty to wed themselves anew to the risen\nChrist, who dwells where no ordinance is needful, no tie permitted but\nof the spirit, and all are as the angels of God. Surely, then, this\nmode of conception explains why the death of Jesus constitutes a great\ndate in the Christian economy, especially as expounded by the friend\nand Apostle of those who were not \"Jews by nature, but sinners of the\nGentiles.\" Had he never died, they must have remained aliens from his\nsway; the enemies against whom his power must be directed; without\nhope in the day of his might; strangers to God and his vicegerent.\n\nBut, while thus they \"were yet without strength, Christ died for\" these\n\"ungodly\"; died to put himself into connection with them, else\nimpossible; and, rising from death, drew them after him into spiritual\nexistence on earth, analogous to that which he passed in heaven. \"You,\"\nsays their Apostle, \"being dead in your sins and the uncircumcision of\nyour flesh, hath he quickened together with him\"; giving you, as \"risen\nwith him,\" a life above the world and its law of exclusion,--a life not\n\"subject to ordinances,\" but of secret love and heavenly faith, \"hid\nwith Christ in God\"; \"blotting out the handwriting of ordinances that\nwas against us, which was contrary to us, and taking it out of the way,\nnailing it to his cross.\" God had never intended to perpetuate the\ndivision between Israel and the world, receiving the one as the sons,\nand shutting out the other as the slaves of his household. If there had\nbeen an appearance of such partiality, he had always designed to set\nthese bondmen free, and to make them \"heirs of God through Christ\"; \"in\nwhom they had redemption through his blood\" from their servile state,\nthe forgiveness of disqualifying sins, according to the riches of his\ngrace. Though the Hebrews boasted that \"theirs was the adoption,\" and\ntill Messiah's death had boasted truly; yet in that event God, \"before\nthe foundation of the world,\" had \"blessed us\" (Gentiles) \"with all\nspiritual blessings in heavenly places\"; \"having predestinated us unto\nthe adoption of children, by Jesus Christ, according\" (not indeed to any\nright or promise, but) \"to the good pleasure of his will,\" \"and when we\nwere enemies, having reconciled us, by the death of his Son\"; \"that in\nthe fulness of times he might gather together in one _all things_ in\nChrist\"; \"by whom we\" (Gentiles) \"have now received this atonement\"\n(reconciliation); that he might have no partial empire, but that \"in him\nmight all fulness dwell.\" \"Wherefore,\" says their Apostle, \"remember\nthat ye, _Gentiles in the flesh_, were in time past without Messiah,\nbeing aliens from the commonwealth of Israel, and strangers from the\ncovenant of promise, having no hope, and without God in the world; but\nnow in Christ Jesus, ye, who sometime were afar off, are made nigh by\nthe blood of Christ. For he is our peace, who hath made both one, and\nhath broken down the middle wall of partition between us\" (not between\nGod and man, but between Jew and Gentile); \"having abolished in his\nflesh the enmity, even the law of commandments, contained in ordinances;\nfor to make in himself, of twain, one new man, so _making peace_; and\nthat he might reconcile both unto God, in one body, by the cross, having\nslain the enmity thereby; and came and preached peace to you who were\nafar off, as well as to them that were nigh. For through him we both\nhave an access by one spirit unto the Father.\"\n\nThe way, then, is clear and intelligible, in which the death and\nascension of the Messiah rendered him universal, by giving spirituality\nto his rule; and, on the simple condition of faith, added the\nuncovenanted nations to his dominion, so far as they were willing to\nreceive him. This idea, and this only, will be found in almost every\npassage of the New Testament (excepting the Epistle to the Hebrews)\nusually adduced to prove the doctrine of the Atonement. Some of the\nstrongest of these I have already quoted; and my readers must judge\nwhether they have received a satisfactory meaning. There are others, in\nwhich the Gentiles are not so distinctly stated to be the sole objects\nof the redemption of the cross; but with scarcely an exception, so far\nas I can discover, this limitation is implied, and either creeps out\nthrough some adjacent expression in the context, or betrays itself, when\nwe recur to the general course of the Apostle's argument, or to the\ncharacter and circumstances of his correspondents. Thus Paul says, that\nChrist \"gave himself a ransom for all, to be testified in due time\"; the\nnext verse shows what is in his mind, when he adds, \"_whereunto_ I am\nordained a preacher, and an Apostle, a teacher of THE GENTILES in faith\nand verity\"; and the whole sentiment of the context is the _Universality\nof the Gospel_, and the duty of praying for Gentile kings and people, as\nnot abandoned to a foreign God and another Mediator; for since Messiah's\ndeath, to _us all_ \"there is but One God, and One Mediator between God\nand men, the man Christ Jesus\": wherefore the Apostle wills, that _for\nall_ \"men pray everywhere, lifting up holy hands, without wrath and\ndoubting,\"--without wrath at their admission, or doubt of their\nadoption. And wherever emphasis is laid on the _vast number_ benefited\nby the cross, a contrast is implied with the _few_ (only the Jews) who\ncould have been his subjects had he not died: and when it is said, \"he\ngave his life a ransom _for many_\"; his blood was \"shed _for many_, for\nthe remission of sins\"; \"thou wast slain, and hast redeemed us by thy\nblood, _out of every kindred, and tongue, and people, and nation_, and\nhast made us unto our God kings and priests, and we shall reign on the\nearth\"; \"behold the Lamb of God that taketh away the sin of _the\nworld_\";[16]--by all these expressions is still denoted the efficacy of\nChrist's death in removing the Gentile disqualification, and making his\ndispensation spiritual as his celestial existence, and universal as the\nFatherhood of God. Does Paul exhort certain of his disciples \"to feed\nthe church of the Lord, which he hath purchased with his own blood\"?[17]\nWe find that he is speaking of the _Gentile_ church of Ephesus, whose\nelders he is instructing in the management of their charge, and to which\nhe afterwards wrote the well-known Epistle, on their Gentile freedom and\nadoption obtained by the Messiah's death. When Peter says, \"Ye know that\nye were not redeemed with corruptible things, as silver and gold, from\nyour vain conversation, received by tradition from your fathers; but\nwith the precious blood of Christ, as of a lamb without blemish and\nwithout spot,\"--we must inquire _to whom_ he is addressing these words.\nIf it be to the Jews, the interpretation which I have hitherto given of\nsuch language will not apply, and we must seek an explanation altogether\ndifferent. But the whole manner of this Epistle, the complexion of its\nphraseology throughout, convinces me that it was addressed especially to\nthe _Gentile converts_ of Asia Minor; and that the redemption of which\nit speaks is no other than that which is the frequent theme of their own\nApostle.\n\nIn the passage just quoted, the form of expression itself suggests the\nidea, that Peter is addressing a class which did not include himself:\n\"YE were not redeemed,\" &c.; farther on, in the same Epistle, the same\nsentiment occurs, however, without any such visible restriction.\nExhorting to patient suffering for conscience' sake, he appeals to the\nexample of Christ; \"who, when he suffered, threatened not, but\ncommitted himself to Him that judgeth righteously; who, his own self,\nbare _our_ sins in his own body on the tree, that we, being dead to\nsins, should live unto righteousness\": yet, with instant change in the\nexpression, revealing his correspondents to us, the Apostle adds, \"by\nwhose stripes YE were healed. For ye were as sheep going astray; but\nare now returned unto the Shepherd and Bishop of your souls.\" With the\ninstinct of a gentle and generous heart, the writer, treating in plain\nterms of the former sins of those whom he addresses, puts himself in\nwith them; and avoids every appearance of that spiritual pride by\nwhich the Jew constantly rendered himself offensive to the Gentile.\n\nAgain, in this letter, he recommends the duty of patient endurance, by\nappeal to the same consideration of Christ's disinterested\nself-sacrifice. \"It is better, if the will of God be so, that ye suffer\nfor well-doing than for evil-doing: for Christ also hath once suffered\nfor sins, the just for the unjust, that he might bring us to God.\" And\nwho are these \"unjust\" that are thus brought to God? The Apostle\ninstantly explains, by describing how the \"Jews by nature\" lost\npossession of Messiah by the death of his person, and \"sinners of the\nGentiles\" gained him by the resurrection of his immortal nature; \"being\nput to death in flesh, but quickened in spirit; and _thereby he went and\npreached unto the spirits in prison, who formerly were without faith_.\"\nThis is clearly a description of the heathen world, ere it was brought\ninto relation to the Messianic promises. Still further confirmation,\nhowever, follows. The Apostle adds: \"Forasmuch, then, as Christ hath\nsuffered for us in the flesh, arm yourselves likewise with the same\nmind; for the time past of our life may suffice us to have wrought the\nwill _of the Gentiles_; when _we_ walked in lasciviousness, lusts,\nexcess of wine, revellings, banquetings, and _abominable idolatries_.\"\nIf we cannot admit this to be a just description of the holy Apostle's\nformer life, we must perceive that, writing to Pagans of whom it was\nall true, he beautifully withholds from his language every trace of\ninvidious distinction, puts himself for the moment into the same class,\nand seems to take his share of the distressing recollection.\n\nThe habitual delicacy with which Paul, likewise, classed himself with\nevery order of persons in turn, to whom he had anything painful to\nsay, is known to every intelligent reader of his Epistles. Hence, in\n_his_ writings too, we have often to consider _with whom_ it is that\nhe is holding his dialogue, and to make our interpretation dependent\non the answer. When, for example, he says, that Jesus \"was delivered\nfor _our_ offences, and was raised again for _our_ justification\"; I\nask, \"For whose?--was it for everybody's?--or for the Jews', since\nPaul was a Hebrew?\" On looking closely into the argument, I find it\nbeyond doubt that neither of these answers is correct; and that the\nApostle, in conformity with his frequent practice, is certainly\nidentifying himself, Israelite though he was, with _the Gentiles_, to\nwhom, at that moment, his reasoning applies itself. The neighboring\nverses have expressions which clearly enough declare this: \"when we\nwere _yet without strength_,\" and \"_while we were yet sinners_,\"\nChrist died for us. It is to the _Gentile church_ at Corinth, and\nwhile expatiating on their privileges and relations as such, that Paul\nspeaks of the disqualifications and legal unholiness of the heathen,\nas vanishing in the death of the Messiah; as the recovered leper's\nuncleanness was removed, and his banishment reversed, and his\nexclusion from the temple ended, when the lamb without blemish, which\nthe law prescribed as his sin-offering, bled beneath the knife, so did\nGod provide in Jesus a lamb without blemish for the exiled and\nunsanctified Gentiles, to bring them from their far dwelling in the\nleprous haunts of this world's wilderness, and admit them to the\nsanctuary of spiritual health and worship: \"He hath made him to be a\nsin-offering for us (Gentiles), who knew no sin; that we might be made\nthe justified of God in him\"; entering, under the Messiah, the\ncommunity of saints. That, in this sacrificial allusion, the Gentile\nadoption is still the Apostle's only theme, is evident hence: that\ntwice in this very passage he declares that he is speaking of that\npeculiar \"reconciliation,\" the word and ministry of which have been\ncommitted to himself; he is dwelling on the topic most natural to one\nwho \"magnified his office,\" as \"Apostle of the Gentiles.\"\n\nTo the same parties was Paul writing, when he said, \"Christ, our\npassover, is sacrificed for us.\" Frequently as this sentence is cited\nin evidence of the doctrine of Atonement, there is hardly a verse in\nScripture more utterly inapplicable; nor, if the doctrine were true,\ncould anything be more inept than an allusion to it in this place. I\ndo not dwell on the fact that the paschal lamb was neither\nsin-offering nor proper sacrifice at all: for the elucidation of the\ndeath of Jesus by sacrificial analogies is as easy and welcome as any\nother mode of representing it. But I turn to the whole context, and\nseek for its leading idea, before multiplying inferences from a\nsubordinate illustration. I find the author treating, not of the\n_deliverance_ of believers from curse or exclusion, but of their duty\nto keep the churches cleansed, by the expulsion of notoriously\nprofligate members. Such persons they are to cast from them, as the\nJews, at the passover, swept from their houses all the leaven they\ncontained; and as for eight days, at that season, only pure unleavened\nbread was allowed for use, so the Church must keep the Gospel festival\nfree from the ferment of malice and wickedness, and tasting nothing\nbut sincerity and truth. This comparison is the primary sentiment of\nthe whole passage; under cover of which the Apostle is urging the\nCorinthians to expel a certain licentious offender: and only because\nthe feast of unleavened bread, on which his fancy has alighted, set in\nwith the day of passover, does he allude to this in completion of the\nfigure. As his correspondents were Gentiles, their Christianity\ncommenced with the death of Christ; with him, as an immortal, their\nspiritual relations commenced; when he rose, they rose with him, as by\na divine attraction, from an earthly to a heavenly state; their old\nand corrupt man had been buried together with him, and, with the human\ninfirmities of his person, left behind for ever in his sepulchre; and\nit became them \"to seek those things which are above,\" and to \"yield\nthemselves to God, as those that are alive from the dead.\" This period\nof the Lord's sequestration in the heavens Paul represents as a\nfestival of purity to the disciples on earth, ushered in by the\nself-sacrifice of Christ. The time is come, he says; cast away the\nleaven, for the passover is slain, blessed bread of heaven to them\nthat taste it! let nothing now be seen in all the household of the\nChurch, but the unleavened cake of simplicity and love.\n\nPaul again appears as the advocate of the Gentiles, when he protests\nthat now between them and the Jews \"there is no difference, since all\nhave sinned and come short of the glory of God\"; that the Hebrew has\nlost all claim to the Messianic adoption, and can have no hope but in\nthat free grace of God, which has a sovereign right to embrace the\nheathen too; and which, in fact, has compassed the Gentiles within its\nredemption, by causing Jesus the Messiah to die; \"by whose blood God\nhath set forth a propitiation, through faith; to evince his justice,\nwhile overlooking, with the forbearance of God, transgressions\npast;--to evince his justice in the arrangements of the present\ncrisis; which preserve his justice (to the Israelite), yet justify on\nmere discipleship to Jesus.\" The great question which the Apostle\ndiscusses throughout this Epistle is this: \"On what terms is a man now\nadmitted as a subject to the Messiah, so as to be acknowledged by him,\nwhen he comes to erect his kingdom?\" \"He must be one of the\ncircumcised, to whom alone the holy law and promises are given,\" says\nthe Jew. \"That is well,\" replies Paul; \"only the promises, you\nremember, are conditional on obedience; and he who claims by the law\nmust stand the judgment of the law. Can your nation abide this test,\nand will you stake your hopes upon the issue? Or is there on record\nagainst you a violation of every condition of your boasted\ncovenant,--wholesale and national transgression, which your favorite\ncode itself menaces with 'cutting off'? Have you even rejected and\ncrucified the very Messiah, who was tendered to you in due fulfilment\nof the promises? Take your trial by the principles of your law, and\nyou must be cast off, and perish, as certainly as the heathen whom you\ndespise; and whose rebellion against the natural law, gross as it is,\ndoes not surpass your own offences against the tables of Moses. You\nmust abandon the claim of right, the high talk of God's justice and\nplighted faith;--which are alike ill suited to you both. The rules of\nlaw are out of the question, and would admit nobody; and we must\nascend again to the sovereign will and free mercy of Him who is the\nsource of law; and who, to bestow a blessing which its resources\ncannot confer, may devise new methods of beneficence. God has violated\nno pledge. Messiah came to Israel, and never went beyond its bounds;\nthe uncircumcised had no part in him; and every Hebrew who desired it\nwas received as his subject. But when the people would not have him,\nand threw away their ancient title, was God either to abandon his\nvicegerent, or to force him on the unwilling? No: rather did it befit\nhim to say: 'If they will reject and crucify my servant,--why, let him\ndie, and then he is Israelite no more; I will raise him, and take him\napart in his immortality; where his blood of David is lost; and the\nholiness of his humanity is glorified; and all shall be his, who will\nbelieve, and love him, as he there exists, spiritually and truly.'\"\nThus, according to Paul, does God provide a new method of adoption or\njustification, without violating any promises of the old. Thus he\nmakes Faith in Jesus--a moral act, instead of a genealogical\naccident--the single condition of reception into the Divine kingdom\nupon earth. Thus, after the passage of Christ from this world to\nanother, Jew and Gentile are on an equality in relation to the\nMessiah; the one gaining nothing by his past privileges; the other,\nnot visited with exclusion for past idolatry and sins, but assured, in\nMessiah's death, that these are to be overlooked, and treated as if\ncleansed away. He finds himself invited into the very penetralia of\nthat sanctuary of pure faith and hope, from which before he had been\nrepelled as an unclean thing; as if its ark of mercy had been purified\nfor ever from his unworthy touch, or he himself had been sprinkled by\nsome sudden consecration. And all this was the inevitable and instant\neffect of that death on Calvary, which took Messiah from the Jews and\ngave him to the world.\n\nWith emphasis, not less earnest than that of Paul, does the Apostle John\nrepudiate the notion of any _claim_ on the Divine admission by law or\nrighteousness; and insist on humble and unqualified acceptance of God's\nfree grace and remission for the past, as the sole avenue of entrance to\nthe kingdom. This avenue was open, however, to all \"who confessed that\nJesus the Messiah had come in the flesh\"; in other words, that, during\nhis mortal life, Jesus had been indicated as this future Prince; and\nthat his ministry was the Messiah's preliminary visit to that earth on\nwhich shortly he would reappear to reign. The great object of that visit\nwas to prepare the world for his real coming; for as yet it was very\nunfit for so great a crisis; and especially to open, by his death, a way\nof admission for the Gentiles, and frame, on their behalf, an act of\noblivion for the past. \"If,\" says the Apostle to them, \"we walk in the\nlight, _as he is in the light_\" (of love and heaven), \"we have\nfellowship one with another, and the blood of Jesus Christ his Son\ncleanseth us from all sin\": the Israelite will embrace the Gentiles in\nfraternal relations, knowing that the cross has removed their past\nunholiness. Nor let the Hebrew rely on anything now but the Divine\nforbearance; to appeal to rights will serve no longer: \"If we say we\nhave no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us.\" Nor let\nany one despair of a reception, or even a restoration, because he has\nbeen an idolater and sinner: \"Jesus Christ the righteous\" is \"an\nadvocate with the Father\" for admitting all who are willing to be his;\n\"and he is the propitiation for our sins; and not for ours only (not\nmerely for our small portion of Gentiles, already converted); but also\nfor the _whole_ world,\" if they will but accept him. He died to become\nuniversal; to make all his own; to spread an oblivion, wide as the\nearth, over all that had embarrassed the relations to the Messiah, and\nmade men aliens, instead of Sons of God. Yet did no spontaneous movement\nof their good affections solicit this change. It was \"not that we\n(Gentiles) loved God; but that he loved us, and sent his Son, the\npropitiation for our sins\"; \"he sent his only-begotten Son into the\nworld, that we might live through him.\" That this Epistle was addressed\nto Gentiles, and is therefore occupied with the same leading idea\nrespecting the cross which pervades the writings of Paul, is rendered\nprobable by its concluding words, which could hardly be appropriate to\nJews: \"Keep yourselves from idols.\" How little the Apostle associated\nany vicarious idea even with a form of phrase most constantly employed\nby modern theology to express it, is evident from the parallel which he\ndraws, in the following words, between the death of our Lord and that of\nthe Christian martyrs: \"Hereby perceive we love, because _Christ_ laid\ndown his life _for us_; and we ought to lay down our lives _for the\nbrethren_.\"\n\nAre, then, the _Gentiles alone_ beneficially affected by the death of\nChrist? and is no wider efficacy _ever_ assigned to it in Scripture? The\ngreat number of passages to which I have already applied this single\ninterpretation will show that I consider it as comprising _the great\nleading idea_ of the Apostolic theology on this subject; nor do I think\nthat there is (out of the Epistle to the Hebrews, which I shall soon\nnotice) a single doctrinal allusion to the cross, from which this\nconception is wholly absent. At the same time, I am not prepared to\nmaintain, that this is the _only_ view of the crucifixion and\nresurrection ever present to the mind of the Apostles. Jews themselves,\nthey naturally inquired, how _Israel_, in particular, stood affected by\nthe unanticipated death of its Messiah; in what way its relations were\nchanged, when the offered Prince became the executed victim; and how far\nmatters would have been different, if, as had been expected, the\nAnointed had assumed his rights and taken his power at once; and,\ninstead of making his first advent a mere preliminary and warning visit\n\"in the flesh,\" had set up the kingdom forthwith, and gathered with him\nhis few followers to \"reign on the earth.\" Had this--instead of\nsubmission to death, removal, and delay--been his adopted course, what\nwould have become of his own nation, who had rejected him,--who must\nhave been tried by that law which was their boast, and under which he\ncame,--who had long been notorious offenders against its conditions, and\nnow brought down its final curse by despising the claims of the\naccredited Messiah? They must have been utterly \"cut off,\" and cast out\namong the \"aliens from the commonwealth of Israel,\" \"without Messiah,\"\n\"without hope,\" \"without God\"; for while \"circumcision profiteth, _if\nthou keep the law_; yet if thou be a _breaker of the law_, thy\ncircumcision is made uncircumcision.\" Had he come _then_ \"to be\nglorified in his saints, and to be admired in all them that\nbelieve,\"--had he then been \"revealed with his mighty angels\" (whom he\nmight have summoned by \"legions\"),--it must have been \"in flaming fire,\ntaking vengeance on them that knew not God, nor obeyed the glad tidings\nof the Lord Jesus Christ\"; to \"punish with everlasting destruction from\nthe presence of the Lord and the glory of his power.\" The sins and\nprospects of Israel being thus terrible, and its rejection imminent (for\nMessiah was already in the midst of them), he withheld his hand; refused\nto precipitate their just fate; and said, \"Let us give them time, and\nwait; I will go apart into the heavens, and peradventure they will\nrepent; only they must receive me then spiritually, and by hearty faith,\nnot by carnal right, admitting thus the willing Gentile with\nthemselves.\" And so he prepared to die and retire; he did not permit\nthem to be cut off, but was cut off himself instead; he restrained the\ncurse of their own law from falling on them, and rather perished himself\nby a foul and accursed lot, which that same law pronounces to be the\nvilest and most polluted of deaths. Thus says St. Paul to the Jews: \"He\nhath redeemed us from the curse of the law, being made a curse for us;\nfor it is written, 'Cursed is every one that hangeth on a tree.'\"[18] In\nthis way, but for the death of the Messiah, Israel too must have been\nlost; and by that event they received time for repentance, and a way for\nremission of sins; found a means of reconciliation still; saw their\nprovidence, which had been lowering for judgment, opening over them in\npropitiation once more; the just had died for the unjust, to bring them\nto God. What was this delay,--this suspension of judgment,--this\nopportunity of return and faith,--but an instance of \"the long-suffering\nof God,\" with which \"he endures the vessels of wrath (Jews) fitted to\ndestruction, and makes known the riches of his glory on the vessels of\nmercy, which he had afore prepared unto glory\"? If Christ had not\nwithdrawn awhile, if his power had been taken up at once, and wielded in\nstern and legal justice, a deluge of judgment must have overwhelmed the\nearth, and swept away both Jew and Gentile, leaving but a remnant safe.\nBut in mercy was the mortal life of Jesus turned into a preluding\nmessage of notice and warning, like the tidings which Noah received of\nthe flood; and as the growing frame of the ark gave signal to the world\nof the coming calamity, afforded an interval for repentance, and made\nthe patriarch, as he built, a constant \"preacher of righteousness\"; so\nthe increasing body of the Church, since the warning retreat of Christ\nto heaven, proclaims the approaching \"day of the Lord,\" admonishes that\n\"all should come to repentance,\" and fly betimes to that faith and\nbaptism which Messiah's death and resurrection have left as an ark of\nsafety. \"Once, in the days of Noah, the long-suffering of God waited\nwhile the ark was preparing, wherein few, that is, eight souls, were\nsaved by water: a representation, this, of the way in which baptism\n(not, of course, carnal washing, but the engagement of a good conscience\nwith God) saves us now, _by the resurrection of Jesus Christ_; who is\ngone into heaven, and is on the right hand of God; angels, and\nauthorities, and powers, being made subject to him.\" Yet \"the time is\nshort,\" and must be \"redeemed\"; \"it is the last hour\"; \"the Lord,\" \"the\ncoming of the Lord,\" \"the end of all things,\" are \"at hand.\"\n\nI have described _one_ aspect, which the death of the Messiah\npresented to _the Jews_; and, in this, we have found another primary\nconception, explanatory of the Scriptural language respecting the\ncross. Of the two relations in which this event appeared (the Gentile\nand the Israelitish), I believe the former to be by far the most\nfamiliar to the New Testament authors, and to furnish the true\ninterpretation of almost all their phraseology on the subject. But, as\nmy readers may have noticed, many passages receive illustration by\nreference to either notion; and some may have a meaning compounded of\nboth. I must not pause to make any minute adjustment of these claims,\non the part of the two interpreting ideas: it is enough that, either\nseparately or in union, they have now been taken round the whole\ncircle of apostolic language respecting the cross, and detected in\nevery difficult passage the presence of sense and truth, and the\nabsence of all hint of vicarious atonement.\n\nIt was on the _unbelieving_ portion of the Jewish people that the\ndeath of their Messiah conferred the national blessings and\nopportunities to which I have adverted. But to _the converts_ who had\nbeen received by him during his mortal life, and who would have been\nheirs of his glory, had he assumed it at once, it was less easy to\npoint out any personal benefits from the cross. That the Christ had\nretired from this world was but a disappointing postponement of their\nhopes; that he had perished as a felon was shocking to their pride,\nand turned their ancient boast into a present scorn; that he had\nbecome spiritual and immortal made him no longer theirs \"as concerning\nthe flesh,\" and, by admitting Gentiles with themselves, set aside\ntheir favorite law. So offensive to them was this unexpected slight on\nthe institutions of Moses, immemorially reverenced as the ordinances\nof God, that it became important to give some turn to the death of\nJesus, by which that event might be harmonized with the national\nsystem, and be shown to _effect the abrogation of the law, on\nprinciples strictly legal_. This was the object of the writer of the\nEpistle to the Hebrews; who thus gives us a third idea of the\nrelations of the cross,--bearing, indeed, an essential resemblance to\nSt. Paul's Gentile view, but illustrated in a manner altogether\ndifferent. No trace is to be observed here of Paul's noble glorying in\nthe cross: so studiously is every allusion to the crucifixion avoided,\ntill all the argumentative part of the Epistle has been completed,\nthat a reader finds the conclusion already in sight, without having\ngained any notion of _the mode_ of the Lord's death, whether even it\nwas natural or violent,--a literal human sacrifice, or a voluntary\nself-immolation. Its ignominy and its agonies are wholly unmentioned;\nand his mortal infirmities and sufferings are explained, not as the\nspontaneous adoptions of previous compassion in him, but as God's\nfitting discipline for rendering him \"a merciful and faithful\nhigh-priest.\" They are referred to in the tone of apology, not of\npride; as needing rather to be reconciled with his office, than to be\nboldly expounded as its grand essential. The object of the author\nclearly is, to find a place for the death of Jesus among the Messianic\nfunctions; and he persuades the Hebrew Christians that it is (not a\nsatisfaction for moral guilt, but) a commutation for the Mosaic Law.\nIn order to understand his argument, we must advert for a moment to\nthe prejudices which it was designed to conciliate and correct.\n\nIt is not easy for us to realize the feelings with which the Israelite,\nin the yet palmy days of the Levitical worship, would hear of an\nabrogation of the Law;--the anger and contempt with which the mere bigot\nwould repudiate the suggestion;--the terror with which the new convert\nwould make trial of his freedom;--the blank and infidel feeling with\nwhich he would look round, and find himself drifted away from his\nanchorage of ceremony;--the sinking heart with which he would hear the\nreproaches of his countrymen against his apostasy. Every authoritative\nritual draws towards itself an attachment too strong for reason and the\nsense of right; and transfers the feeling of obligation from realities\nto symbols. Among the Hebrews this effect was the more marked and the\nmore pernicious, because their ceremonies were in many instances only\nremotely connected with any important truth or excellent end; they were\nseparated by several removes from any spiritual utility. Rites were\nenacted to sustain other rites; institution lay beneath institution,\nthrough so many successive steps, that the crowning principle at the\nsummit easily passed out of sight. To keep alive the grand truth of the\nDivine Unity, there was a gorgeous temple worship; to perform this\nworship there was a priesthood; to support the priesthood there were\n(among other sources of income) dues paid in the form of sacrifice; to\nprovide against the non-payment of dues there were penalties; to prevent\nan injurious pressure of these penalties, there were exemptions, as in\ncases of sickness; and to put a check on trivial claims of exemption, it\nmust be purchased by submission to a fee, under name of an atonement.\nWherever such a system is received as divine, and based on the same\nauthority with the great law of duty, it will always, by its\ndefiniteness and precision, attract attention from graver moral\nobligations. Its materiality renders it calculable: its account with the\nconscience can be exactly ascertained: as it has little obvious utility\nto men, it appears the more directly paid to God: it is regarded as the\nspecial means of pleasing him, of placating his anger, and purchasing\nhis promises. Hence it may often happen, that the more the offences\nagainst the spirit of duty, the more are rites multiplied in\npropitiation; and the harvest of ceremonies and that of crimes ripen\ntogether.\n\nAt a state not far from this had the Jews arrived when Christianity was\npreached. Their moral sentiments were so far perverted, that they valued\nnothing in themselves, in comparison with their legal exactitude, and\nhated all beyond themselves for their want of this. They were eagerly\nexpecting the Deliverer's kingdom, nursing up their ambition for his\ntriumphs; curling the lip, as the lash of oppression fell upon them, in\nsuppressed anticipation of vengeance; satiating a temper, at once fierce\nand servile, with dreams of Messiah's coming judgment, when the blood of\nthe patriarchs should be the title of the world's nobles, and the\neverlasting reign should begin in Jerusalem. Why was the hour delayed?\nthey impatiently asked themselves. Was it that they had offended\nJehovah, and secretly sinned against some requirement of his law? And\nthen they set themselves to a renewed precision, a more slavish\npunctiliousness than before. Ascribing their continued depression to\ntheir imperfect legal obedience, they strained their ceremonialism\ntighter than ever; and hoped to be soon justified from their past sins,\nand ready for the mighty prince and the latter days.\n\nWhat, then, must have been the feeling of the Hebrew, when told that\nall his punctualities had been thrown away,--that, at the advent,\nfaith in Jesus, not obedience to the law, was to be the title to\nadmission,--and that the redeemed at that day would be, not the\nscrupulous Pharisee, whose dead works would be of no avail, but all\nwho, with the heart, have worthily confessed the name of the Lord\nJesus? What doctrine could be more unwelcome to the haughty Israelite?\nit dashed his pride of ancestry to the ground. It brought to the same\nlevel with himself the polluted Gentile,--whose presence would alone\nrender all unclean in the Messiah's kingdom. It proved his past ritual\nanxieties to have been all wasted. It cast aside for the future the\nvenerated law; left it in neglect to die; and made all the apparatus\nof Providence for its maintenance end in absolutely nothing. Was then\nthe Messiah to supersede, and not to vindicate, the law? How different\nthis from the picture which prophets had drawn of his golden age, when\nJerusalem was to be the pride of the earth, and her temple the praise\nof nations, sought by the feet of countless pilgrims, and decked with\nthe splendor of their gifts! How could a true Hebrew be justified in a\nlife without law? How think himself safe in a profession, which was\nwithout temple, without priest, without altar, without victim?\n\nNot unnaturally, then, did the Hebrews regard with reluctance two of the\nleading features of Christianity; the death of the Messiah, and the\nfreedom from the law. The Epistle addressed to them was designed to\nsoothe their uneasiness, and to show that, if the Mosaic institutions\nwere superseded, it was in conformity with principles and analogies\ncontained within themselves. With great address, the writer links the\ntwo difficulties together, and makes the one explain the other. He finds\na ready means of effecting this, in the sacrificial ideas familiar to\nevery Hebrew; for by representing the death of Jesus as a commutation\nfor legal observances, he is only ascribing to it an operation\nacknowledged to have place in the death of every lamb slain as a\nsin-offering at the altar. These offerings were a distinct recognition,\non the part of the Levitical code, of a principle of _equivalents_ for\nits ordinances; a proof that, under certain conditions, they might\nyield: nothing more, therefore, was necessary, than to show that the\ndeath of Christ established those conditions. And such a method of\nargument was attended by this advantage, that, while the _practical end_\nwould be obtained of terminating all ceremonial observance, the law was\nyet treated as _in theory_ perpetual; not as ignominiously abrogated,\nbut as legitimately commuted. Just as the Israelite, in paying his\noffering at the altar to compensate for ritual omissions, recognized\nthereby the claims of the law, while he obtained impunity for its\nneglect; so, if Providence could be shown to have provided a legal\nsubstitute for the system, its authority was acknowledged at the moment\nthat its abolition was secured.\n\nLet us advert, then, to the functions of the Mosaic sin-offerings, to\nwhich the writer has recourse to illustrate his main position. They\nwere of the nature of a _mulct or acknowledgment rendered for\nunconscious or inevitable disregard of ceremonial liabilities, and\ncontraction of ceremonial uncleanness_. Such uncleanness might be\nincurred from various causes; and, while unremoved by the appointed\nmethods of purification, disqualified from attendance at the\nsanctuary, and \"cut off\" \"the guilty\" \"from among the congregation.\"\nTo touch a dead body, to enter a tent where a corpse lay, rendered a\nperson \"unclean for seven days\"; to come in contact with a forbidden\nanimal, a bone, a grave, to be next to any one struck with sudden\ndeath, to be afflicted with certain kinds of bodily disease and\ninfirmity, unwittingly to lay a finger on a person unclean, occasioned\ndefilement, and necessitated a purification or an atonement.\nIndependently of these offences, enforced upon the Israelite by the\naccidents of life, it was not easy for even the most cautious\nworshipper to keep pace with the complicated series of petty debts\nwhich the law of ordinances was always running up against him. If his\noffering had an invisible blemish; if he omitted a tithe, because \"he\nwist it not\"; or inadvertently fell into arrear, by a single day, with\nrespect to a known liability; if absent from disease, he was compelled\nto let his ritual account accumulate; \"though it be hidden from him,\"\nhe must \"be guilty, and bear his iniquity,\" and bring his victim. On\nthe birth of a child, the mother, after the lapse of a prescribed\nperiod, made her pilgrimage to the temple, presented her sin-offering,\nand \"the priest made atonement for her.\" The poor leper, long banished\nfrom the face of men, and unclean by the nature of his disease, became\na debtor to the sanctuary, and on return from his tedious quarantine\nbrought his lamb of atonement, and departed thence, clear from\nneglected obligations to his law. It was impossible, however, to\nprovide by specific enactment for every case of ritual transgression\nand impurity, arising from inadvertence or necessity. Scarcely could\nit be expected that the courts of worship themselves would escape\ndefilement, from imperfections in the offerings, or unconscious\ndisqualification in people or in priest. To clear off the whole\ninvisible residue of such sins, an annual \"day of atonement\" was\nappointed; the people thronged the avenues and approaches of the\ntabernacle; in their presence a kid was slain for their own\ntransgressions, and for the high-priest the more dignified expiation\nof a heifer; charged with the blood of each successively, he sprinkled\nnot only the exterior altar open to the sky, but, passing through the\nfirst and holy chamber into the Holy of Holies (never entered else),\nhe touched, with finger dipped in blood, the sacred lid (the\nMercy-seat) and foreground of the Ark. At that moment, while he yet\nlingers behind the veil, the purification is complete; on no\nworshipper of Israel does any legal unholiness rest; and were it\npossible for the high-priest to remain in that interior retreat of\nJehovah, still protracting the expiatory act, so long would this\nnational purity continue, and the debt of ordinances be effaced as it\narose. But he must return; the sanctifying rite must end; the people\nbe dismissed; the priests resume the daily ministrations; the law open\nits stern account afresh; and in the mixture of national exactitude\nand neglects, defilements multiply again till the recurring\nanniversary lifts off the burden once more. Every year, then, the\nnecessity comes round of \"making atonement for the holy sanctuary,\"\n\"for the tabernacle,\" \"for the altar,\" \"for the priests, and for all\nthe people of the congregation.\" Yet, though requiring periodical\nrenewal, the rite, so far as it went, had an efficacy which no Hebrew\ncould deny; for ceremonial sins, unconscious or inevitable (to which\nall atonement was limited[19]), it was accepted as an indemnity; and\nput it beyond doubt that Mosaic obedience was commutable.\n\nSuch was the system of ideas, by availing himself of which the author\nof the Epistle to the Hebrews would persuade his correspondents to\nforsake their legal observances. \"You can look without uneasiness,\" he\nsuggests, \"on your ritual omissions, when the blood of some victim\nhas been presented instead, and the penetralia of your sanctuary have\nbeen sprinkled with the offering: well, on no other terms would I\nsoothe your anxiety; precisely such equivalent sacrifice does\nChristianity exhibit, only of so peculiar a nature, that, for _all_\nceremonial neglects, intentional no less than inadvertent, you may\nrely upon indemnity.\" The Jews entertained a belief respecting their\ntemple, which enabled the writer to give a singular force and\nprecision to his analogy. They conceived that the tabernacle of their\nworship was but the copy of a divine structure, devised by God\nhimself, made by no created hand, and preserved eternally in heaven:\nthis was \"the true tabernacle, which the Lord pitched, and not man\";\nwhich no mortal had beheld, except Moses in the mount, that he might\n\"make all things according to that pattern\"; within whose Holy of\nHolies dwelt no emblem or emanation of God's presence, but his own\nimmediate Spirit; and the celestial furniture of which required, in\nproportion to its dignity, the purification of a nobler sacrifice, and\nthe ministrations of a diviner priest, than befitted the \"worldly\nsanctuary\" below. And who then can mistake the meaning of Christ's\ndeparture from this world, or doubt what office he conducts above? He\nis called by his ascension to the pontificate of heaven; consecrated,\n\"not after the law of any carnal commandment, but after the power of\nan endless life\"; he drew aside the veil of his mortality, and passed\ninto the inmost court of God: and as he must needs \"have somewhat to\noffer,\" he takes the only blood he had ever shed,--which was his\nown,--and, like the High-Priest before the Mercy-seat, sanctifies\ntherewith the people that stand without, \"redeeming the\ntransgressions\" which \"the first covenant\" of rites entailed. And he\nhas not returned; still is he hid within that holiest place; and still\nthe multitude he serves turn thither a silent and expectant gaze; he\nprolongs the purification still; and while he appears not, no other\nrites can be resumed, nor any legal defilement be contracted. Thus,\nmeanwhile, ordinances cease their obligation, and the sin against them\nhas lost its power. How different this from the offerings of\nJerusalem, whose temple was but the \"symbol and shadow\" of that\nsanctuary above. In the Hebrew \"sacrifices there was a remembrance\nagain made of sins every year\"; \"the high-priest annually entered the\nholy place\"; being but a mortal, he could not go in with his own blood\nand _remain_, but must take that of other creatures and _return_; and\nhence it became \"not possible that the blood of bulls and of goats\nshould _take away_ sins,\" for instantly they began to accumulate\nagain. But to the very nature of Christ's offering a perpetuity of\nefficacy belongs; bearing no other than \"_his own_ blood,\" he was\nimmortal when his ministration began, and \"ever liveth to make his\nintercession\"; he could \"not offer himself often, for then must he\noften have suffered since the foundation of the world,\"--and \"it is\nappointed unto men _only once_ to die\"; so that \"_once for all_ he\nentered into the holy place, and obtained a redemption that is\n_perpetual_\"; \"_once_ in the end of the world hath he appeared, and by\nsacrificing himself hath absolutely _put away_ sin\"; \"this man, after\nhe had offered one sacrifice for sins, for ever sat down on the right\nhand of God,\" \"for by one offering he hath perfected for ever them\nthat are sanctified.\" The ceremonial, then, with its periodical\ntransgressions and atonements, is suspended; the services of the outer\ntabernacle cease, for the holiest of all is made manifest; one who is\n\"priest for ever\" dwells therein;--one \"consecrated for evermore,\"\n\"holy, harmless, undefiled, in his celestial dwelling quite separate\nfrom sinners; who needeth not _daily_, as those high-priests, to offer\nup sacrifice, first for his own sins, and then for the people's; for\nthis he did _once for all_ when he offered up himself.\"[20]\n\nNor is it in its perpetuity alone that the efficacy of the Christian\nsacrifice transcends the atonements of the law; it removes a higher\norder of ritual transgressions. It cannot be supposed, indeed, that\nMessiah's life is no nobler offering than that of a creature from the\nherd or flock, and will confer no more immunity. Accordingly, it goes\nbeyond those \"_sins of ignorance_,\" those ceremonial inadvertences,\nfor which alone there was remission in Israel; and reaches to\n_voluntary_ neglects of the sacerdotal ordinances; insuring indemnity\nfor legal omissions, when incurred not simply by the accidents of the\nflesh, but even by intention of the conscience. This is no greater\nboon than the dignity of the sacrifice requires; and does but give to\nhis people below that living relation of soul to God which he himself\nsustains above. \"If the blood of bulls and of goats ... sanctifieth to\nthe purifying of the flesh, how much more shall the blood of Christ,\nwho through the eternal Spirit offered himself without spot to God,\npurify (even) your conscience from dead works (ritual observances) to\nserve the living God!\" Let then the ordinances go, and the Lord \"put\nhis laws _into the mind_, and write them _in the heart_\"; and let all\nhave \"boldness to enter into the holiest by the blood of Jesus, by\nthis new and living way which he hath consecrated for us\"; \"provoking\neach other to love and to good works.\"\n\nSee, then, in brief, the objection of the Hebrews to the Gospel; and the\nreply of their instructor. They said: \"What a blank is this; you have no\ntemple, no priest, no ritual! How is it that, in his ancient covenant,\nGod is so strict about ceremonial service, and permits no neglect,\nhowever incidental, without atonement; yet in this new economy throws\nthe whole system away, letting us run up an everlasting debt to a law\nconfessedly unrepealed, without redemption of it or atonement for it?\"\n\n\"Not without redemption and atonement,\" replies their evangelical\nteacher; \"temple, sacrifice, priest, remain to us also, only glorified\ninto proportions worthy of a heavenly dispensation; our temple, in the\nskies; our sacrifice, Messiah's mortal person; our priest, his\never-living spirit. How poor the efficacy of your former offerings!\nyear after year, your ritual debt began again: for the blood dried and\nvanished from the tabernacle which it purified; the priest returned\nfrom the inner shrine; and when there, he stood, with the interceding\nblood, before the emblem, not the reality, of God. But Christ, not at\nthe end of a year, but at the end of the great world-era of the Lord,\nhas come to offer up himself,--no lamb so unblemished as he; his\nvoluntary and immortal spirit, than which was nothing ever more\ndivinely consecrate, becomes officiating priest, and strikes his own\nperson with immolating blow; it falls and bleeds on earth, as on the\nouter altar, standing on the threshold of the sanctuary of heaven:\nthither he ascends with the memorials of his death, vanishes into the\nHoly of Holies of the skies, presents himself before the very living\nGod, and sanctifies the temple there and worshippers here; saying to\nus, 'Drop now for ever the legal burdens that weigh you down; doubt\nnot that you are free, as my glorified spirit here, from the\ndefilements you are wont to dread; I stay behind this veil of visible\nthings, to clear you of all such taint, and put away such sin\neternally. Trust, then, in me, and take up the freedom of your souls:\nburst the dead works, that cling round your conscience like cerements\nof the grave; and rise to me, by the living power of duty, and a\nloving allegiance to God.'\"\n\nSo far, then, as the death of Christ is treated in Scripture\ndogmatically, rather than historically, its effects are viewed in\ncontrast with the different order of things which must have been\nexpected, had he, as Messiah, _not_ died. And thus regarded, it\npresented itself to the minds of the Apostles in three relations:--\n\nFirst, to the Gentiles, whom it drew in to be subjects of the Messiah,\nby breaking down the barriers of his Hebrew personality, and\nrendering him spiritual as well as immortal.\n\nSecondly, to the unbelieving Jews; whom his retirement from this world\ndelivered from the judgment due to them, on the principles of their own\nlaw, both for their _general_ violation of the _conditions_ of their\ncovenant, and for their positive rejection of him. His absence reopened\ntheir opportunities; and to tender them this act of long-suffering, he\ntook on himself the death which had been incurred by them.\n\nThirdly, to the believing Jews; the terms of whose discipleship the\nMessiah's death had changed, destroying all the benefits of their\nlineage, and substituting an act of the mind, the simpler claim of\nfaith. It was therefore a commutation for the Ritual Law, and gave\nthem impunity and atonement for all its violations.\n\nWith the last two of these relations, beyond their remarkable\nhistorical interest, we have no personal concern. The first remains,\nand ever will remain, worthy of the glorious joy with which Paul\nregarded and expounded it. God has committed the rule of this world to\nno exclusive prince, and no sacerdotal power, and no earthly majesty;\nbut to one whose spirit, too divine to be limited to place and time,\nbroke through clouds of sorrow into the clearest heaven; and thither\nhas since been drawing our human love, though for ages now he has been\nunseen and immortal. An impartial God, a holy and spiritual law, an\ninfinite hope for all men, are given to us by that generous cross.\n\nIt is evident that all three of the relations which I have described\nbelonged to the death of Jesus, _in his capacity of Messiah_; and could\nhave had no existence if he had not borne this character, but had been\nsimply a private martyr to his convictions. The foregoing exposition\ngives a direct answer to the inquiry, pressed without the slightest\npertinence upon the Unitarian, why the phraseology of the cross is never\nfound applied to Paul or Peter, or any other noble confessor, who died\nin attestation of the truth; why \"no record is given that we are\njustified by the blood of Stephen; or that he bare our sins in his own\nbody, and made reconciliation for us.\"[22] I know not why such a\nquestion should be submitted to us; we have assuredly no concern with\nit; having never dreamt that the Apostles could have written as they did\nrespecting the death on Calvary, if they had thought of it only as a\nscene of martyrdom. We have passed under review the whole language of\nthe New Testament on this subject; and in the interpretation of it have\n_not even once_ had recourse to this, which is said to be our only view\nof the cross. We have seen the Apostles justly announcing their Lord's\ndeath as a _proper propitiation_; because it placed whole classes of\nmen, without any meritorious change in their character, in saving\nrelations: declaring it a _strict substitute_ for others' punishment; on\nthe ground that there were those who must have perished, if he had not;\nand that he died and retired, that they might remain and live:\ndescribing it as a _sacrifice which put away sin_; because it did that\nfor ever, which the Levitical atonements achieved for a day: but we have\nnot found them ever appealing to it either as a satisfaction to the\njustice of God, or an example of martyrdom to men. The Trinitarians have\none idea of this event themselves; and their fancy provides their\nopponents with one idea of it; of the former not a trace exists, on any\npage of Scripture; and of the latter the Unitarian need not avail\nhimself at all, in explaining the language whereof it is said to be his\nsolitary key.\n\nNowhere, then, in Scripture do we meet with anything corresponding\nwith the prevailing notions of vicarious redemption; everywhere, and\nmost emphatically in the personal instructions of our Lord, do we find\na doctrine of forgiveness, and an idea of salvation, utterly\ninconsistent with it. He spake often of the unqualified clemency of\nGod to his returning children; never once of the satisfaction demanded\nby his justice. He spake of the joy in heaven over one sinner that\nrepenteth; but was silent on the sacrificial faith, without which\npenitence is said to be unavailing. Nor did he, like his modern\ndisciples, teach that there are _two separate salvations_, which must\nfollow each other in a fixed order: first, redemption from the\npenalty, secondly, from the spirit, of sin; pardon for the past,\nbefore sanctification in the present; a removal of the \"hinderance in\nGod,\" previous to its annihilation in ourselves. If indeed there were\nin Christianity two deliverances, discriminated and successive, it\nwould be more in accordance with its spirit to invert this order;--to\nrecall from alienation first, and announce forgiveness afterwards; to\nrestore from guilt, before cancelling the penalty; and permit the\n_healing_ to anticipate the _pardoning_ love. At least, there would\nseem, in such arrangement, to be a greater jealousy for the holiness\nof the divine law, a severer reservation of God's complacency for\nthose who have broken from the service of sin, than in the system\nwhich proclaims impunity to the rebel will, ere yet its estrangement\nis renounced. If the outward remission precedes the inward\nsanctification, then does God admit to favor the yet unsanctified;\nguilt keeps us in no exile from him: and though the Holy Spirit is to\nfollow afterwards, it becomes the peculiar office of the cross to lift\nus as we are, with every stain upon the soul and every vile habit\nunretraced, from the brink of perdition to the assurance of glory: the\ndivine lot is given to us, before the divine love is awakened in us;\nand the heirs of heaven have yet to become the children of holiness.\nWith what consistency can the advocates of such an economy accuse its\nopponents of dealing lightly with sin, of deluding men into a false\ntrust, and administering seductive flatteries to human nature?[23]\nWhat! shall we, who plant in every soul of sin a hell, whence no\nforeign force, no external God, can pluck us, any more than they can\ntear us from our identity,--we, who hide the fires of torment in no\nviewless gulf, but make them ubiquitous as guilt,--we, who suffer no\noutward agent from Eden, or the Abyss, or Calvary, to encroach upon\nthe solitude of man's responsibility, and confuse the simplicity of\nconscience,--we, who teach that God will not, and even cannot, spare\nthe froward, till they be froward no more, but must permit the burning\nlash to fall, till they cry aloud for mercy, and throw themselves\nfreely into his embrace;--shall we be rebuked for a lax administration\nof peace, by those who think that a moment may turn the alien into the\nelect? It is no flattery of our nature, to reverence deeply its moral\ncapacities: we only discern in them the more solemn trust, and see in\ntheir abuse the fouler shame. And it is not of what men _are_, but of\nwhat they _might be_, that we encourage noble and cheerful thoughts.\nDoubtless, we think exaggeration possible (which our opponents\napparently do not) even in the portraiture of their actual character:\nand perhaps we are not the less likely to awaken true convictions of\nsin, that we strive to speak of it with the voice of discriminative\njustice, instead of the monotonous thunders of vengeance; and to draw\nits image in the natural tints provided by the conscience, rather than\nin the preternatural flame-color mingled in the crucibles of hell.\n\nIn making _penal_ redemption and _moral_ redemption separate and\nsuccessive, the vicarious scheme, we submit, is inconsistent with the\nChristian idea of salvation. Not that we take the second, and reject\nthe first, as our Trinitarian friends imagine; nor that we invert\ntheir order. We accept them both; putting them, however, not in\nsuccession, but in super-position, so that they coalesce. The power\nand the punishment of sin perish together; and together begin the\nholiness and the bliss of heaven. Whatever extracts the poison cools\nthe sting: nor can the divine vigor of spiritual health enter, without\nits freedom and its joy. That there can be any separate dealings with\nour past guilt and with our present character, is not a truth of God,\nbut a fiction of the schools. The sanctification of the one is the\nredemption of the other. The mind given up to passion, or chained to\nself, or anyhow alienated from the love and life divine, dwells,\nwhatever be its faith, in the dark and terrible abyss; while he, and\nhe only, that, in the freedom and tranquillity of great affections,\ncommunes with God and toils for men, understands the meaning, and wins\nthe promises, of heaven. Am I asked: \"What, then, is to persuade the\nsinful heart thus to draw near to God;--what, but a proclamation of\nabsolute pardon, can break down the secret distrust, which keeps our\nnature back, wrapped in the reserve of conscious guilt?\" I reply;\nhowever much these fears and hesitations might cling round us, and\nrestrain us from the mystic Deity of Nature, they can have no place in\nour intercourse with the Father whom Jesus represents. It needs only\nthat Christ be truly his image, to know \"that the hinderance is not\nwith him, but entirely in ourselves\";[24] to see that there is no\nanger in his look; to feel that he invites us to unreserved\nconfession, and accepts our self-abandonment to him,--that he lifts\nthe repentant, prostrate at his feet, and speaks the words of severe,\nbut truest hope. Am I told, \"that only the gratitude excited by\npersonal rescue from tremendous danger, by an unconditional and entire\ndeliverance, is capable of winning our reluctant nature, of opening\nthe soul to the access of the Divine Spirit, and bringing it to the\nservice of the Everlasting Will\"? I rejoice to acknowledge, that\n_some_ such disinterested power must be awakened, some mighty forces\nof the heart be called out, ere the regeneration can take place that\nrenders us children of the Highest; ere we can break, with true new\nbirth, from the shell of self, and try and train our wings in the\natmosphere of God. The permanent work of duty must be wrought by the\naffections; not by the constraint, however solemn, of hope and fear;\nno self-perfectionating process, elaborated by an anxious will, has\nwarmth enough to ripen the soul's diviner fruits; the walks of outward\nmorality, and the slopes of deliberate meditation, it may keep smooth\nand trim; but cannot make the true life-blossoms set, as in a garden\nof the Lord, and the foliage wave as with the voice of God among the\ntrees. I gladly admit that, to a believer in the vicarious sacrifice,\nthe sense of pardon, the love of the Great Deliverer, may well fulfil\nthis blessed office, of carrying him out of himself in genuine\nallegiance to a being most benign and holy. And perceiving that, if\nthis doctrine were removed, there is not, _in the system of which it\nforms a part_, and which else would be all terror, anything that could\nperform the same generous part, I can understand why it seems to its\nadvocates an _essential_ power in the renovation of the character. But\ngreat as it may be, within the limits of its own narrow scheme, ideas\npossessed of higher moral efficacy are not wanting, when we pass into\na region of nobler and more Christian thought. Shall we say that the\nview of the Infinite Ruler, given in the spoken wisdom or the living\nspirit of Christ, has no sanctifying power? Yet where is there any\ntrace in it of the satisfactionist's redemption? When we sit at\nMessiah's feet, that transforming gratitude for an extinguished\npenalty, on which the prevailing theology insists, as its central\nemotion, becomes replaced by a similar and profounder sentiment\ntowards the Eternal Father. If to rescue men from a dreadful fate in\nthe future be a just title to our reverence, _never to have designed_\nthat fate claims an affection yet more devoted; if there be a divine\nmercy in annihilating an awful curse, in shedding only blessing there\nis surely a diviner still. Shall the love restored to us after long\ndelay, and in consideration of an equivalent, work mightily on the\nheart,--and shall that which asked no purchase, which has been veiled\nby no cloud, which has enfolded us always in its tranquillity, nor can\never quit the soul opened to receive it, fail to penetrate the\nconscience, and dissolve the frosts of our self-love by some holier\nflame? Never shall it be found true, that God must threaten us with\nvengeance, ere we can feel the shelter of his grace!\n\nIn truth, the Christian idea of salvation cannot be better\nillustrated, than by the doubt which has been entertained respecting\nthe proper translation of my text. Some, referring it to spiritual\nredemption, adhere to the common version; others, seeing that the\nApostle Peter is explaining \"by what power or by what name\" he had\ncured the lame man at the temple gate, refer the words to this miracle\nof deliverance, and render them thus: \"Neither is there _healing_ in\nany other; for there is none other name under heaven given among men,\nwhereby we can be _healed_.\" It matters little which it is; for\nwhether we speak of body or of mind, Jesus \"_saves_\" us by \"_making us\nwhole_\"; by putting forth upon us a divine and healing power, by which\npast suffering and present decrepitude disappear together; which\nsupplies the defective elements of our nature, cools the burning of\ninward fever, or calls into being new senses and perceptions, opening\na diviner universe to our experience. The deformed and crooked will,\nbowed by Satan, lo! these many years, and nowise able to lift up\nitself, he loosens and makes straight in uprightness. The moral\nparalytic, collapsed and prostrate amid the stir of life, and\nincapably gazing on the moving waters in which others find their\nhealth, has often started up at the summons of that voice, though\nperchance \"he wist not who it was\"; and, going his way, has found it\nto be \"the sabbath,\" and owned the \"work\" of one who is in the spirit\nof \"the Father.\" From the eye long dark and blind to duty and to God,\nhe has caused the film to pass away; and shown the solemn look of life\nbeneath a heaven so tranquil and sublime. Even the dead of soul, close\nwrapped in bandages of selfishness,--that greediest of graves,--have\nbeen quickened by his piercing call, and have come forth, to learn,\n\"when risen,\" that only in the meekness that can obey is there the\npower to command, only in the love that serves is there the life of\nheart-felt liberty. To call, then, on the name and trust in the spirit\nof Christ, is to invoke the restoring power of God; to give symmetry\nand speed to our lame affections, and the vigor of an athlete to our\nlimping wills. There is not any Christian _salvation_ that is not thus\nidentical with Christian _perfection_: \"nor any other name under\nheaven given among men, whereby we may be (thus) _made whole_.\" Let\nall that would \"be perfect be thus minded\"; seek \"the measure of the\nstature of the fulness of Christ\"; and they shall find in him a \"power\nto become the sons of God.\"\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[13] See Rev. II. M'Neile's Lecture, The Proper Deity of our Lord the\nonly Ground of Consistency in the Work of Redemption, pp. 339, 340.\n\n[14] \"Either he\" (\"the Deity of the Unitarians\") \"must show no mercy,\nin order to continue true; or he must show no truth, in order to\nexercise mercy. If he overlook man's guilt, _admit him to the\nenjoyment of his favor, and proceed_ by corrective discipline to\nrestore his character, he unsettles the foundations of all equitable\ngovernment, obliterates the everlasting distinctions between right and\nwrong, spreads consternation in heaven, and proclaims impunity in\nhell. Such a God would not be worth serving. _Such_ tenderness,\ninstead of inspiring filial affection, would lead only to reckless\ncontempt.\"--_Mr. M'Neile's Lecture_, p. 313.\n\nSurely this is a description, not of the Unitarian, but of the\nLecturer's own creed. It certainly is no part of his opponents'\nbelief, that God first admits the guilty to his favor, and _then\n\"proceeds\"_ \"to restore his character.\" This arrangement, by which\npardon _precedes_ moral restoration, is that feature in the Orthodox\ntheory of the Divine dealings against which Unitarians protest, and\nwhich Mr. M'Neile himself insists upon as essential throughout his\nLecture. \"We think,\" he says, \"that _before_ man can be introduced to\nthe only true process of improvement, he must _first_ have forgiveness\nof his guilt.\" What is this \"first\" step, of pardon, but an\n\"overlooking of man's guilt\"; and what is the second, of\n\"sanctification,\" but a \"restoring of character\"; whether we say by\n\"corrective discipline,\" or the \"influence of the Holy Spirit,\"\nmatters not. Is it said that the guilt is not overlooked, if Christ\nendured its penalty? I ask, again, whether justice regards only the\n_infliction_ of suffering, or its _quantity_, without caring about its\n_direction_? Was it impossible for the stern righteousness of God\nfreely to forgive the penitent? And how was the injustice of\nliberating the guilty mended by the torments of the innocent? Here is\nthe verdict against sin: \"The soul that sinneth, it shall die.\" And\nhow is this verdict executed? The soul that had sinned does _not_ die;\nand one \"that knew no sin\" dies instead. And this is called a divine\nunion of _truth_ and _mercy_; being the most precise negation of both,\nof which any conception can be formed. First, to hang the destinies of\nall mankind upon a solitary volition of their first parents, and then\nlet loose a diabolic power on that volition to break it down; to\nvitiate the human constitution in punishment for the fall, and yet\ncontinue to demand obedience to the original and perfect moral law; to\nassert the absolute inflexibility of that holy law, yet all the while\nhave in view for the offenders a method of escape, which violates\nevery one of its provisions, and makes it all a solemn pretence; to\nforgive that which is in itself unpardonable, on condition of the\nsuicide of a God, is to shock and confound all notions of rectitude,\nwithout affording even the sublimity of a savage grandeur. This will\nbe called \"blasphemy\"; and it is so; but the blasphemy is not in the\n_words_, but in the _thing_.\n\nUnitarians are falsely accused of representing God as \"overlooking\nman's guilt.\" They hold, that _no guilt is overlooked till it is\neradicated from the soul_; and that pardon proceeds _pari passu_ with\nsanctification.\n\n[15] Mr. Buddicom has the following note, intimating his approbation\nof this rendering: \"Some of the best commentators have connected \u03b5\u03bd \u03c4\u03c9\n\u03b1\u03c5\u03c4\u03bf\u03c5 \u03b1\u03b9\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b9, not with \u03b4\u03b9\u03b1 \u03c4\u03b7\u03c2 \u03c0\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03b5\u03c9\u03c2, but with \u1f31\u03bb\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03b7\u03c1\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd and,\naccordingly, Bishop Bull renders the passage, 'Quem proposuit Deus\nplacamentum in sanguine suo per fidem.'\"--_Lecture on Atonement_, p.\n496.\n\n[16] John i. 29. For an example of the use of the word \"_world_\" to\ndenote the Gentiles, see Rom. xi. 12-15; where St. Paul, speaking of\nthe rejection of the Messiah by the Jews, declares that it is only\ntemporary; and as it has given occasion for the adoption of the\nGentiles, so will this lead, by ultimate reaction, to the readmission\nof Israel; a consummation in which the Gentiles should rejoice without\nboasting or high-mindedness. \"If,\" he says, \"the fall of them (the\nIsraelites) be the riches of _the world_ (the Gentiles), and the\ndiminishing of them the riches of the Gentiles, how much more their\nfulness! For I speak to you Gentiles, inasmuch as I am the Apostle of\nthe Gentiles, I magnify my office; if, by any means, I may provoke to\nemulation them which are my flesh (the Jews), and save some of them;\nfor if the casting away of them be the _reconciling of the world_,\nwhat shall the receiving of them be but life from the dead?\"\n\n[17] Acts xx. 28. It is hardly necessary to say, that the reading of\nour common version, \"_church of God_,\" wants the support of the best\nauthorities; and that, with the general consent of the most competent\ncritics, Griesbach reads \"_church of the Lord_.\"\n\n[18] Gal. iii. 13. Even here the Apostle cannot refrain from adverting\nto his _Gentile_ interpretation of the cross; for he adds,--\"that the\nblessing of Abraham might come on the Gentiles, through Jesus Christ.\"\n\n[19] In three or four instances, it is true, a sin-offering is\ndemanded from the perpetrator of some act of _moral wrong_. But in all\nthese cases a suitable punishment was ordained also; a circumstance\ninconsistent with the idea, that the expiation procured remission of\nguilt. The _sacrifice_ appended to the _penal infliction_ indicates\nthe twofold character of the act,--at once a _ceremonial defilement_\nand a _crime_; and requiring, to remedy the one, an atoning rite,--to\nchastise the other, a judicial penalty. See an excellent tract by Rev.\nEdward Higginson, of Hull, entitled, \"The Sacrifice of Christ\nscripturally and rationally interpreted,\" particularly pp. 30-34.\n\n[20] Heb. vii. 27. Let the reader look carefully again into the verbal\nand logical structure of this verse; and then ask himself whether it\nis not as plain as words can make it, that Christ \"once for all\"\n_offered up_ \"_a sacrifice first for_ HIS OWN SINS, and _then for the\npeople's_.\" The argument surely is this: \"He need not do the _daily_\nthing, for he has done it _once for all_; the never-finished work of\nother pontiffs, a single act of his achieved.\" The sentiment loses its\nmeaning, unless that which he did once is _the selfsame thing_ which\nthey did always: and what was that?--the offering by the high-priest\nof a sacrifice first for his own sins, and then for the people's. With\nwhat propriety, then, can Mr. Buddicom ask us this question: \"Why is\nhe said to have excelled the Jewish high-priest in _not_ offering a\nsacrifice for himself?\" I submit, that no such thing is said; but\nthat, on the contrary, it is positively affirmed that Christ _did_\noffer sacrifice for his own sins. So plain indeed is this, that\nTrinitarian commentators are forced to slip in a restraining word and\nan additional sentiment into the last clause of the verse. Thus\nPierce: \"Who has no need, like the priests under the law, from time to\ntime to offer up sacrifice first for his own sins, and after that for\nthe people's. For this _latter_ he did once for all when he offered up\nhimself; _and as to the former, he had no occasion to do it at all_.\"\nAnd no doubt the writer of the Epistle _ought_ to have said just this,\nif he intended to draw the kind of contrast which orthodox theology\nrequires, between Jesus and the Hebrew priests. He limits the\nopposition between them to _one_ particular;--the Son of Aaron made\noffering _daily_,--the Son of God _once for all_. Divines must add\n_another_ particular;--that the Jewish priest atoned for _two_ classes\nof sins, his own and the people's,--Christ for the people's only.\nSuppose for a moment that this was the author's design; that the word\n\"_this_,\" instead of having its proper grammatical antecedent, may be\nrestrained, as in the commentary cited above, to the sacrifice for\n_the people's_ sins; then the word \"daily\" may be left out, without\ndisturbance to the other substantive particular of the contrast: the\nverse will then stand thus: \"Who needeth not, as those high-priests,\nto offer up sacrifice for his own sins; _for_ he offered up sacrifice\nfor the people's sins, when he offered up himself.\" Here, all the\nreasoning is obviously gone, and the sentence becomes a mere inanity:\nto make sense, we want, instead of the latter clause, the sentiment of\nPierce,--_for_ \"he had no occasion to do this at all.\" This, however,\nis an invention of the expositor, more jealous for his author's\northodoxy than for his composition. I think it necessary to add, that,\nby leaving out the most emphatic word in this verse (the word _once_)\nMr. Buddicom has suppressed the author's antithesis, and favored the\nsuggestion of his own. I have no doubt that this was unconsciously\ndone; but it shows how system rubs off the angles of Scriptural\ndifficulties.--I subjoin a part of the note of John Crell on the\npassage: \"De pontifice Christo loquitur. Quid ver\u00f4 fecit semel\nChristus? quid aliud, quam quod Pontifex antiquus stat\u00e2 die\nquotannis[21] faciebat? Principaliter autem hic non de oblatione pro\npeccatis populi; sed de oblatione pro ipsius Pontificis peccatis agi,\nex superioribus, ipsoque rationum contextu manifestum est.\"\n\nThe sins which his sacrifice cancelled must have been of the same\norder in the people and in himself; certainly therefore not moral in\ntheir character, but ceremonial. His death was, for himself no less\nthan for his Hebrew disciples, a commutation for the Mosaic\nordinances. Had he not died, he must have continued under their power;\n\"were he on earth, he would not be a priest,\" or have \"obtained that\nmore excellent ministry,\" by which he clears away, in the courts\nabove, all possibilities of ritual sin below, and himself emerges from\nlegal to spiritual relations.\n\n[21] This is obviously the meaning of \u03ba\u03b1\u03b8 \u1f21\u03bc\u03b5\u03c1\u03b1\u03bd in this passage;\n_from time to time_, and in the case alluded to, _yearly_; not, as in\nthe common version, _daily_.\n\n[22] Mr. Buddicom's Lecture on the Atonement, p. 471.\n\n[23] See Mr. M'Neile's Lecture, pp. 302, 311, 328, 340, 341.\n\n[24] Mr. M'Neile's Lecture, p. 338.\n\n\n\n\nMEDIATORIAL RELIGION.\n\n    _The Nature of the Atonement, and its Relation to Remission of\n    Sins and Eternal Life._ By JOHN M'LEOD CAMPBELL. Cambridge:\n    Macmillan & Co. 1856.\n\n\nThis is a strange book. A Greek would have hated it. A Puritan would\nhave found it savory, even where it was unsound. Rosenkranz, who has\nwritten on the _\u00c6sthetik des H\u00e4sslichen_, would have been thankful for\nsuch a fund of illustration. Cumbrous, tiresome, monotonous, it has\nfew attractions for the natural man, who may have a weakness in favor\nof pure English and nice grammar. It despises the graces of carnal\nliterature, and treats all the color and music of language as the\nRoundheads treated a cathedral, silencing the \"box of whistles\" and\nsmashing the \"mighty big angels in glass.\" And yet, if you can get\nover its grating way of delivering itself, you will find it no\nbarbaric product, but the utterance of a deep and practised thinker,\ncharged with the richest experiences of the Christian life, and\nresolute to clear them from every tangle of fiction or pretence.\nBeneath the uncouth form there is not only severe truth, but great\ntenderness and beauty,--a fine apprehension of the real inner strife\nof tempted men, and an intense faith in an open way of escape from it,\nwithout compromise of any sanctity. The author, though not tuneful in\nhis speech, has the gifts of a true prophet; and often enables one to\nfancy what Isaiah might have been if he had heard nothing but the\nbagpipe, and had set his \"burdens\" to its drone. Whether Mr.\nCampbell's style has been formed north of the Tweed, we know not. In\nany case, it is trained in the school of Calvinism; is untouched\ntherefore by any feeling for art; and runs on with a sort of\nextemporaneous habit, insufficiently relieved by occasional flashes of\ngrotesque and forcible expression. It is only in exterior aspect,\nhowever, that he presents the features of the rugged old Calvinism:\nand though the first-born of that system and its younger sons are\ndistinguished like Isaac's children, \"Esau is a hairy man, and Jacob\nis a smooth man,\" yet no true patriarch of the school can be so blind\nas not to see beneath our author's goat-skin dress, and know that he\nis other than the heir. In fact, the peculiarity of this work as a\ntheological phenomenon is, that it is a destruction of Calvinism\nwithout any revolt from it,--an escape from it through its own\ninterior. Its postulates are not denied. Its phraseology is not\nrejected. Its statement of the problem of redemption is in the main\naccepted. Its provision for the solution,--the Incarnation of the\nSon,--is sacredly preserved. Yet these elements are put into such play\nas to make it checkmate itself on its own area. Its definitions are\nshown to be suicidal; and its sharp-edged logic is used to cut through\nthe ligaments that constrain and shape it.\n\nWe have spoken first of the _style_ of this book, because it strikes\nthe reader at the outset, and is not unlikely to repel him if he is\nnot warned. Of one other feature, derived from the same school, we\nmust say a word, to qualify the admiration and gratitude which we\nshall then ungrudgingly tender to the author. In common with all the\ngreat masters of the \"Evangelical\" school, he is too much at home with\nthe Divine economy; knows too well how the same thing appears from the\nfinite and the infinite point of view; can tell too surely how a mixed\nnature, both divine and human, would feel on looking from both ends at\nonce; and altogether goes with too close a search to the \"secret place\nof the Most High.\" Not that he speaks unworthily on these high themes;\nwe have nothing truer to suggest, except more silence. But we must\nconfess that when a teacher lays down the conditions of divine\npossibility, expatiates psychologically on the sentiments of the\nFather and the Son, and seems as though he had been allowed a peep\ninto the autobiography of God, we shrink from the sharp outlines, and\nfeel that we shall believe more if we are shown less. With so many\nsoundings taken, and so many channels buoyed, the sense of the\nshoreless sea is gone, and we find only a port of traffic, with\ncoast-lights instead of stars. The temptation to this theological\nmap-making has always proved peculiarly strong among the disciples of\nGeneva: and the reason is to be found in the very nature of the\nproblem they have attempted to resolve. Religion has two foci to\ndetermine,--the divine nature and the human. Athanasius and the Greek\ninfluence fixed the doctrine of the Godhead: Augustine and the Latin\nChurch defined the spiritual state of man. The one, it has been said,\nproduced a theology; the other, an anthropology. In the construction\nof the former, it is obvious that the appeal could be made only to\npositive authority, whether of Scripture or the Church. On the Nicene\nquestion no one could pretend to have personal insight or scientific\ndata: it must be decided by arbitrary vote on impressions of\ntestimony. But for establishing a doctrine of humanity, the living\nresources of consciousness and experience were present with perpetual\nwitness; every proposition advanced could be confronted with its\ncorresponding reality: the disciple could not help carrying the dogma\ninward to the test of his self-knowledge. The scheme of the Trinity\npartook of the nature of a _Gnosis_, which dwelt apart from the stir\nof phenomena, and, having once set and crystallized, could only be\nhung up for preservation. The dogmas of human depravity and\nhelplessness partook of the nature of a _Science_, coming in contact\nwith the facts of life and character at every point. Moral experience\nhad something to say to them: and unless they could keep good terms\nwith it, they could not hope to hold their ground. Hence the\nAugustinian divines have been constrained to seek a _philosophy_ of\nreligion, and to collate the text of their Scriptural system with the\nrunning paraphrase of actual life. No writers have contributed so much\nto lay bare the inmost springs of human action and emotion; have\ntracked with so much subtilty the windings of guilty self-deception,\nor so found the secret sorrow that lies at the core of every\nunconsecrated joy. If we must concede to the Roman Catholic casuists\nand the problems of the confessional the merit of creating an ethical\nArt embodied in systems of rules, we owe to the deeper Evangelical\nspirit, whether in its action or its reaction, the ground-lines of an\nethical Philosophy;--or, if you deny that such a thing as yet exists,\nat least the true idea and undying quest of it. The disciples of\nAugustine, belonging to an anthropological school, have been naturally\ndistinguished by a reflective and psychologic habit.\n\nIf it was the function of the Greek period to settle the doctrine of\nGod, and of its Latin successor to define the nature of man, it was the\naim of the _Reformation_, leaving these two extremes undisturbed, to\nfind the way of mediation between them. So long as the great sacerdotal\nChurch, living continuator of Christ's presence, was intrusted with the\nbusiness, private Christians wanted no theory on the subject; all nice\nquestions went into the ecclesiastical closet and disappeared. But as\nsoon as ever the hierarchy fell out of this position, there was an\nimmense void left to be filled. On the one hand, Infinite Holiness,\nquite alienated; on the other, Human Pravity, quite helpless: how was\nany approximation to be rendered conceivable? True, the great original\nMediation on Calvary, which the papal priesthood pretended to prolong,\nremained; for it was fixed in history. But it lay a great way off, a\nfact in the old past; and its intervention was required to-day by\nMelancthon, and Carlstadt, and a whole generation quite remote from it.\nHow was its power to be fetched into the present? how applied to men\nwalking about in Wittenberg or Z\u00fcrich? This was the problem which flew\nopen by the cancelling of the Romish credentials: and the various\nanswers to it constitute the body of Protestant theology. In one point\nthey all agree, that, to replace the priestly media that are thrust out,\n_Personal Faith_ is the element that must be brought in. In what way\nthis subjective state of the individual mind draws or appropriates the\nefficacy of the Incarnation; in what _order_ the redeeming process runs\namong the three given terms,--the alienated Father, the mediating Son,\nthe believing disciple; whether any part of the process is moral and\nreal, or all is legal and virtual;--these are questions which the\nReformation has found it easier to open than to close. But answer them\nas you will, they entangle your thoughts in the mutual relations and\nsentiments of three persons; and cannot be discussed without\nestablishing some principles of moral psychology, as the common grounds\nof intercommunion between minds finite and infinite, and dealing with\nhypothetical problems of divine as well as human casuistry. Hence the\ninevitable tendency of the doctrine of Mediation to venture on a natural\nhistory of the Divine Mind,--to construct a drama of Providence and\nGrace, with plot too artfully wrought for the free hand of Heaven, and\ntraits too specific and minute for reverent contemplation.\n\nIt is deeply instructive to observe the pulsation of religious thought\nin men. Revealed religion is ever passing into natural, and natural\nreturning to re-interpret the revealed. We can almost see the steps by\nwhich sacred history was converted into dogma; while dogma, assumed in\nturn as the starting-point, is ever producing new readings of the\nhistory. This world may be regarded as a _human theatre_, where the\nWills of men perform the parts; or as the stage of _Divine agency_,\nusing the visible actors as the executants of an invisible thought.\nIts vicissitudes, presented in the former aspect, yield only history;\nin the latter, give rise to doctrine. Noticed by Tacitus, the life of\nChrist is a provincial incident of Tiberius's reign, and his death a\njudicial act of Pontius Pilate's government. In the three first\nGospels and the book of Acts, the crucifixion is still the act of\nwicked or misguided men, inflicted on an expostulating victim; not,\nhowever, without being _foreseen_ as the appointed precursor of a\nresurrection. The event is thus in the main simply historical; but\nwith a divine comment which gives it an incipient theological\nsignificance. It appears under another aspect in the Gospel of John;\nthere, Christ not only foresaw, but _determined_ his own death: his\nlife \"no man taketh it from him,\" but he \"lays it down of himself\"; he\nis not merely the submissive medium, but the spontaneous co-agent of a\nDivine intent. Finally, in St. Paul,--to whom the person and ministry\nof Christ were unfamiliar, who, as a disciple of his heavenly life,\nlooked back upon them from a higher point,--the historical aspect\nalmost wholly disappears in the ideal; and the cross becomes the\nGospel, the wisdom of God and the power of God, the self-sacrifice of\nthe Son the reconciling way to the Father, the very focus and symbol\nof all the mystery and mercy comprised in humanity. The movement of\nthought through these successive stages is obvious. An event is at\nfirst accepted as it arises. But in proportion as its concrete\nimpression retires, the need becomes more urgent to find its function:\ninstinctive search is made for all those elements, accessories, and\neffects of it, which promise to bring out its meaning and idea, until\nat last its doctrine absorbs itself, and enters the human mind as a\npermanent factor of positive religion. It is thus that the great\nantitheses, of Law and Gospel, of the Natural and the Spiritual man,\nof dead Works and living Faith, of self-seeking enmity and\nself-surrendering reconciliation with God, have settled upon the\nconsciousness of Christendom, and grown into the very substance of its\nexperience. They have become part of its natural religion. But in this\ncharacter they may, conversely, be taken as the initiative of a new\nversion of the history whence they sprung. They could not be born into\nunmixed and formed existence at once; but, like all new affections,\nmust feel their way out of an early indeterminate state, into clear\nself-apprehension and settled purity. The testimony of the Christian\nconscience needs time to become articulate and collected. The shadow\nof human guilt may lie so dark upon the mind, the dawn of the divine\nholiness may so dazzle the inward vision, that blindness in part may\nlinger for a while; and the eye, in very opening to Christ's healing\ntouch, may fail to see. Once accustomed to the new light of life, men\nare no longer occupied with it alone, but find in it a medium for\ntruer discernment of objects around. The special sentiments awakened\nby the Gospel test themselves afresh, like any other theory, by being\nfully lived out, and tried as experiments upon the soul. The type of\ncharacter,--the edition of human nature,--in which they take\nembodiment, becomes a distinct object of critical appreciation; and\nwhile all its deep expressive traits speak for the inner truth whence\nthey are moulded, every mixture of disharmony or defect calls for some\nrevision of idea. In the thirsty spiritual state to which men were\nreduced on the eve of the Reformation, they drank up with intense\neagerness the most turbid supplies of evangelical doctrine. With purer\nhealth and finer perception they become aware that not all was water\nof life; and that coarse notions of the nature of justice, the\nconditions of mercy, and the measurement of sin, were intermixed and\nmust become mere sediment. Cleared of these, the theory is taken back\nto the facts of revelation, and so washed through them, that they may\nalso emerge as from a sprinkling of regeneration. Through such\nre-baptism does our author, furnished with a purified conception of\n\"atonement,\" pass the history of Christ.\n\nIn looking for the whereabouts of the atonement, we are guided, as in\nsearch for the pole-star, by two pointers whose indications we are to\nfollow. Its function was double,--to cancel a guilty past, to make a\nholy future: and it must be of such a nature as to disappoint neither\nof these conditions. In determining its form, the great anxiety of\ntheologians hitherto has been to fit it for its _retrospective_\naction, and disembarrass the problem of salvation of the burden of\naccumulated sin. It is Mr. Campbell's distinction that he lays the\nsuperior stress on its _prospective_ action, and requires that it\nshall positively heal the sickness of our nature, and evolve thence a\nreal and living righteousness. God's moral perfectness could be\nsatisfied with nothing less. If, indeed, He looked on our guilt\nmerely as an obstacle to our \"salvation,\" and desired to remove it as\na hinderance out of the way,--if He rather sought a pretext for making\nus happy than a provision for drawing us to goodness,--then the work\nof Christ might be so devised as simply to tear out the defiled page\nof the past, and register an infinite credit not our own, without\ninherent care for ulterior personal holiness. But were it so, the\ndivine _love_ would amount only to an unrighteous desire for our\nhappiness, and the divine _righteousness_ to an unloving repulsion\nfrom our sin. Such spurious analysis corresponds with no reality; and\nin the truth of things there can be no heavenly affection that is not\nholy, nor any holiness that is not affectionate.\n\n\"While in reference to the not uncommon way of regarding this subject\nwhich represents righteousness and holiness as opposed to the sinner's\nsalvation, and mercy and love as on his side, I freely concede that\nall the Divine attributes were, in one view, against the sinner, in\nthat they called for the due expression of God's wrath against sin in\nthe history of redemption: I believe, on the other hand, that the\njustice, the righteousness, the holiness of God, have an aspect\naccording to which they, as well as his mercy, appear as intercessors\nfor man, and crave his salvation. Justice may be contemplated as\naccording to sin its due; and there is in righteousness, as we are\nconscious to it, what testifies that sin should be miserable. But\n_justice_, looking at the sinner not simply as the fit subject of\npunishment, but as existing in a moral condition of unrighteousness,\nand so its own opposite, must desire that the sinner should cease to\nbe in that condition; should cease to be unrighteous, should become\nrighteous: righteousness in God craving for righteousness in man, with\na craving which the realization of righteousness in man alone can\nsatisfy. So also of holiness. In one view it repels the sinner, and\nwould banish him to outer darkness, because of its repugnance to sin.\nIn another, it is pained by the continued existence of sin and\nunholiness, and must desire that the sinner should cease to be sinful.\nSo that the sinner, conceived of as awakening to the consciousness of\nhis own evil state, and saying to himself, 'By sin I have destroyed\nmyself. Is there yet hope for me in God?'--should hear an encouraging\nanswer, not only from the love and mercy of God, but also from his\nvery righteousness and holiness. We must not forget, in considering\nthe response that is in conscience to the charge of sin and guilt,\nthat, though the fears which accompany that response are partly the\neffect of a dawning of light, they also in part arise from remaining\ndarkness. He who is able to interpret the voice of God within him\ntruly, and with full spiritual intelligence will be found saying, not\nonly, 'There is to me cause for fear in the righteousness and holiness\nof God,' but also, 'There is room for hope for me in the Divine\nrighteousness and holiness.' And when gathering consolation from the\nmeditation of the name of the Lord, that consolation will be not only,\n'Surely the Divine mercy desires to see me happy rather than\nmiserable,' but also, 'Surely the Divine righteousness desires to see\nme righteous,--the Divine holiness desires to see me holy,--my\ncontinuing unrighteous and unholy is as grieving to God's\nrighteousness and holiness as my misery through sin is to his pity and\nlove.' 'Good and righteous is the Lord, therefore will he teach\nsinners the way which they should choose.' 'A just God and a Saviour';\nnot as the harmony of a seeming opposition, but 'a Saviour, _because_\na just God.'\"--p. 29.\n\nFrom this justly-conceived passage the characteristics of Mr.\nCampbell's theory may already be divined. He sets his faith on a\nconcrete, living, indivisible God, whom you can never understand by\nlaying out His abstract attributes one by one, with their separate\nrequirements, and then putting them together again to compute the\nresultant. He insists on the absolute dominance of a moral and\nspiritual idea throughout the revealed economy: of this nature is the\nevil to be met,--sin and estrangement; of this nature is the good to\nbe reached,--righteousness and reconciliation; and only of this nature\ncan be the mediation which effects the change; related upward to the\nFather and downward to men, in a way accordant with the laws of\nconscience, and intelligible by its self-light. He craves, therefore,\na natural juncture, a real causal nexus, between the several parts of\nthe process, to the exclusion of all forensic fictions and arbitrary\nscene-shifting and sovereign _tours-de-force_. In short, he will have\nno tricks passed off, no _quasi_-transformations upon the conscience;\nhe feels the moral world to be above the range of mere miracle; any\nchange in it irreducible to its solemn laws would _ipso facto_ fall\nout of it and become a mere dynamical surprise. Of _physical_ miracle\nour author avails himself to the full amount; the incarnation of the\nSon of God being, with him, as with others, the central fact and\nessential medium of Christian redemption. But the august power thus\n_super_naturally set up--the Person at once divine and human--works\nout his great problem _naturally_, without requiring the suspension of\none rule of right, or holding any magical dealings with the character\nof God or man. His problem, therefore, is to show how the life and\ndeath of Christ--considered as God in humanity--were fitted, and alone\nfitted, to blot out the sins of the world before God, and to introduce\namong men a new state of real righteousness and eternal life.\n\nThe common Evangelical scheme of redemption so far affects to be\ndeduced from certain general principles, and to render the way of\nredemption _conceivable_, that it is stigmatized as _rationalistic_ by\nCatholics and Anglicans. It is so, however, only in the sense of\nhanging well together, and serving the purpose of a _theological\nMnemonic_ to those who want a religion ready more than deep. In the\nhigher sense, of occupying any natural ground of reason, it does not\nearn its reproach. The propositions which it lays down, as to the\ninability of a holy nature to forgive unless circuitously and with\ncompensation, and as to the commutability of either penal liabilities\nor moral attributes, are without any support from our primary\nsentiments of right and wrong, and could be carried out by no sane man\nin the conduct of life. The doctrine is taught in two principal\nforms;--the earlier and more exact scheme of \"_Satisfaction_,\"\nelaborated by Anselm of Canterbury, and perfected by Owen and\nEdwards; and the modern theory of \"_Public Justice_,\" maintained in\nthe writings of Dr. Pye Smith and Dr. Payne, and prevailing wherever\nthe first decadence from the old Calvinism is going on. The first of\nthese prepares its ground by laying down these principles as\nfundamental;--that the connection between sin and suffering is\ninviolably secured on the veracity of God; that \"when we have done\nall, we are unprofitable servants,\" and have only rendered our strict\ndue; that, far from \"doing all,\" we have done and can do nothing,\nexcept accumulate guilt, which, measure it as you will,--by the\nmajesty of the authority defied, or the multitude of the offenders and\ntheir sins,--is practically of infinite amount. Here, then, is a case\nof utter despair: infinite debt; nothing to pay; remission impossible;\npunishment eternal; death unattainable. But we are brought into the\nlabyrinth on one side, to emerge from it on the other. While _men_ can\nonly multiply demerit, there are natures conceivable to which merit is\npossible. A Divine Person, laying aside a blessedness inherently his,\nand assuming sorrow not his own, and doing this out of a pure love,\nfulfils the conditions; and when the Son takes on him our humanity,\nthe act, carried out unto the end, has a merit in it which in amount\nis a full set-off against the guilt of men. Still, this only leaves us\nwith two opposite funds--of infinite good desert and infinite ill\ndesert--which sit apart and unrelated. In due course, the one ought to\nhave a boundless reward, the other a boundless punishment. But to\nrender his affluence available for our debt, the Son consummates his\nself-sacrifice, substitutes himself for us as the object of\nretribution, and dies once for all,--one infinite death for many\nfinite hereafters of woe. The Father's justice is satisfied; the\nallotment of suffering to sin has been accurately observed; His desire\nto pardon is released from its restraint. Having dealt with the person\nof the Son as if it were mankind, He may deal with mankind as if they\nwere the Son, and look upon them as clothed with a perfect obedience.\n\nThe wholly artificial structure of this scheme, which is its greatest\ncondemnation, has been its chief security. It is by approaching within\nconducting-distance of reality, that a doctrine elicits resistance and\nmeets the stroke of natural objection; and if it only keeps far enough\naloft in the metaphysic atmosphere, it may float along unarrested from\nzone to zone of time. Men know not what to make of propositions so\nmuch out of their sphere, so evasive of any real encounter with their\nconsciousness, and are apt to let them pass for their very\nstrangeness' sake. But surely we are bound to demand for them some\n\"response of conscience,\" and, with Mr. Campbell, to demur to such of\nthem as will not bear this test. Limiting ourselves to the\n_mediatorial_ part of the theory, we will assume the problem of moral\nevil to be correctly stated, and only ask whether, from the supposed\ncase of despair, the offered solution affords any real exit of relief.\nNor do we assume this for argument's sake alone. We can perfectly\nunderstand any remorseful sense, however deep, of human unworthiness;\nany appreciative reverence, however intense, of Christ's\nself-sacrifice. Set the one under the shadow of the Father's infinite\ndisapproval, the other in the light of His infinite complacency; so\nfar we go; there let them lie. But what next? Here, on the left hand,\nis Sin with its need of punishment; there, on the right, a perfect\nHoliness with its merits. While they are thus spread beneath the\nFather's eye, they break up their inviolable alliances; each moral\ncause crosses over and takes the opposite effect. If such change took\nplace, the _seat_ of the fact must be sought partly in the\nconsciousness of Christ, partly in the Father's view of things. In\nreference to the first, must we say that the Crucified _felt himself_\nunder Divine wrath and punishment, and esteemed that wrath to be\n_just_,--the fitting expression of his own inward _remorse_? If so,\ncan we affirm that his consciousness was veracious? or did he not\nfeel, in regard to _others'_ sins, sentiments and experiences that are\nfalse except in relation to _one's own_? And, ascending to the other\npoint of view, shall we affirm that the Father _saw sin_ in the Son\nand was angry with him; so that, in the hour of sublimest obedience,\nthe words ceased to be true, \"Thou art my beloved Son, in whom I am\nwell pleased\"? And on the other hand, what is meant when it is said\nthat beneath the Divine eye men in their guilt are seen \"clothed with\"\na perfect righteousness? Is such an aspect of them _true_? or is it\nakin to an ocular deception? We seem to be reduced to this\ndilemma;--the change of apparent moral place implied in \"imputation\"\nis either a faithful representation, or a _quasi_-representation, of\nthe reality of things. If the latter, then the Divine consciousness is\nillusory, and the world is administered on a fiction; if the former,\nthen the moral law, in assuring us of the personal and inalienable\nnature of sin, gives a false report, and there is nothing to prevent a\ncirculating medium of merit from passing current through the universe.\nMr. Campbell's deference for the great advocates of this marvellous\ndoctrine does not obstruct his perception of its difficulties.\n\n\"I freely confess,\" he says, \"that to my own mind it is a relief, not\nonly intellectually, but also morally and spiritually, to see that there\nis no foundation for the conceptions that when Christ suffered for us,\nthe just for the unjust, he suffered either 'as by imputation unjust,'\nor 'as if he were unjust.' I admit that _intellectually_ it is a relief\nnot to be called to conceive to myself a double consciousness, both in\nthe Father and in the Son, such as seems implied in the Father's seeing\nthe Son at one and the same time, though it were but for a moment, as\nthe well-beloved Son, to whom infinite favor should go forth, and also\nas worthy, in respect of the imputation of our sins to him, of being the\nobject of infinite wrath, he being the object of such wrath accordingly;\nand in the Son's knowing himself the well-beloved of the Father, and yet\nhaving the consciousness of being personally, through imputation of our\nsin, the object of the Father's wrath. I feel it intellectually a relief\nneither to be called to conceive this, nor to assume it as an\nunconceived mystery. Still more do I feel it _morally_ and _spiritually_\na relief, not to be required to recognize legal fictions as having a\nplace in this high region, in which the awful realities of sin and\nholiness, spiritual death and spiritual life, are the objects of a\ntransaction between the Father and the Son in the Eternal Spirit.\"--p.\n310.\n\nThe second form of mediatorial doctrine, to which we have referred as\nthe modern type of Calvinism, has arisen from the endeavor to evade some\nof these perplexities. The riddle that haunts its teachers is still the\nsame,--how it can become possible to show mercy to sinners; but the\ndifficulty in the way is differently conceived, and therefore met by a\ndifferent expedient. It is not an obstacle in God, arising from his\npersonal sentiment of equity, which must be satisfied; but springs out\nof the necessity of consistent rectitude, and adherence to law in his\nadministrative government. The Father himself, it is intimated, would be\nquite willing to forgive, were there nothing to consult except his own\ndisposition. But it would never do to play fast and loose with the\ncriminal law of the universe, and, notwithstanding the most solemn\nenactments, let off delinquents on mere repentance, as if nothing were\nthe matter beyond a personal affront. Something more is due to _Public\nJustice_. If the due course of retribution is to be turned aside, it\nmust be in such a way and at such a cost as to proclaim aloud the\nawfulness of the guilt remitted. This, we are told, is accomplished by\nthe sufferings and death of the Son of God, which were substituted for\nour threatened punishment, not as its quantitative equal paid to the\nFather, but as a moral equivalent in the eyes of men. Their validity is\nthus conceived to depend by no means on their particular measure, but on\nthe meritorious obedience of love which was their sustaining and\nanimating soul, and which, being on the scale of a Divine nature, gave\ninfinite value to the smallest sorrow. Within the casket of his grief\nwas held such a priceless righteousness, that, on beholding it, the\nFather might regard it as an adequate plea for acts of mercy to sinners.\nHe does not indeed impute to them the actual moral perfectness of\nChrist, so as to see them invested with it, any more than he imputed to\nChrist their guilt, and frowned on Calvary. It is the _effects_ only of\nthat holiness which he imputes; he offers to men the benefits of it,\nwithout reckoning it as really theirs, and giving them the _legal\nstanding_ which its possession would bestow.\n\nNo doubt this scheme gets rid of the penal mensuration and moral\nconveyancing of the older Calvinism. It shifts also the bar to free\nmercy away from the inner personality of God, and sets it in his outer\ngovernment. But when we again attempt to seize the _mediatorial\nexpedient_, what is it? It is said to be a display of the enormity of\nthat guilt which needs to be redeemed at such a cost. But is that need\n_real_? Have we not been told that it has no place in God? Does he\nthen hang out a profession that is not true to the kernel of things,\nbut only a show-off for impression's sake? If Eternal Justice in its\ninner essence does _not_ require the expiation provided, why in its\nouter manifestation pretend that it _does_? As nothing can become\nright for \"the sake of good example\" that is not right in itself, so\nis \"Public Justice,\" unsustained by the sincere heart of reality, a\nmere dramatic imposture. Mr. Campbell has supplied us with a forcible\nstatement of this truth:--\n\n\"Surely rectoral or public justice, if it is to have any moral\nbasis,--any basis other than expediency,--must rest upon, and refer\nto, distributive or absolute justice. In other words, unless there be\na rightness in connecting sin with misery, and righteousness with\nblessedness, looking at individual cases simply in themselves, I\ncannot see that there is a rightness in connecting them as a rule of\nmoral government. 'An English judge once said to a criminal before\nhim: You are condemned to be transported, not because you have stolen\nthese goods, but that goods may not be stolen.' (_Jenkyns_, 175, 176.)\nThis is quoted in illustration of the position, that 'the death of\nChrist is an honorable ground for remitting punishment,' because 'his\nsufferings answer the same ends as the punishment of the sinner.' I do\nnot recognize any harmony between this sentiment of the English judge\nand the voice of an awakened conscience on the subject of sin. It is\njust because he has sinned and deserves punishment, and not because he\nsays to himself that God is a moral governor, and must punish him to\ndeter others, that the wrath of God against sin seems so\nterrible,--and as just as terrible.\"--p. 79.\n\nEven were the expression backed up by reality, we cannot but ask about\nthe fitness of the medium for the thought to be conveyed. God's horror\nat guilt is publicly proclaimed by the most awful crime in human\nhistory! To explain the difficulty of letting off the offender, he\nexhibits the anguish of the innocent! The spectacle would seem in\ndanger of suggesting the wrong lesson to the terrified observer,--of\nraising to intensity the doubt whether, in a world that gives its\nsilver to a Judas, its judgment-seat to a Pilate, and the cross to the\nSon of God, any Providence can care for rectitude at all. Even when\nthe death of Christ is contemplated exclusively as a _self_-sacrifice,\nwithout remembering the guilt which compassed it, we are at a loss to\nunderstand how it could be \"an honorable ground for remitting\npunishment.\" What difference did it make in the previous reasons of\nthe Divine government, so that penalties right before should be less\nright afterwards? If Catiline were undergoing his just retribution at\nthe date of the Last Supper, what plea was there for releasing him at\nor before the date of the resurrection? That obedience rendered and\nsuffering endured by one soul should dispense with the liabilities of\nanother, is a supposition at variance with the personal and\ninalienable nature of all sin; and to say that God \"imputes the\n_effects_\" of Christ's holiness to those who are not partakers in the\ncause, is to accuse the Divine government of total disregard to\ncharacter and evasion of moral reality. The old Calvinism represents\nthe Father as having an illusory _perception_ of men, _as if_ they\nwere clad in a divine righteousness. The new Calvinism represents him\nas having indeed a true perception of their unrighteousness, but,\nnotwithstanding this, falsifying the truth _in action_, and proceeding\nas if the facts were quite other than they are. Inasmuch as\nunveracious vision is intellectual, while unveracious practice is\nmoral, the younger doctrine appears to us a positive degradation of\nthe elder, not only in logical completeness, but in religious worth.\nBoth of them make the redeeming economy proceed upon a _fiction_; but\nthere is all the difference between unconscious and conscious fiction;\nbetween an inner \"satisfaction\" brought about by an optical\ndisplacement of merit, and an outward \"exhibition\" set up for the sake\nof impression. The theory of Owen, stern as it is, bears the stamp of\nresolute meaning consistently carried through into the inmost recess\nof the Divine nature. The newer doctrine is the production of a\nplatform age, which obtrudes considerations of _effect_ even into its\nthoughts of God and his government, and can scarce refrain from\nturning the universe itself into pathos and _ad captandum_ display.\n\nWith good reason, therefore, does our author feel that this whole\nsubject is in need of reconsideration. His own doctrine diverges from\nits predecessors at a very early point, and is seen at its source in\nthe following proposition of Edwards, as cited by Mr. Campbell:--\n\n\"In contending that sin must be punished with an infinite punishment,\nPresident Edwards says, 'that God could not be just to himself without\nthis vindication, unless there could be such a thing as a repentance,\nhumiliation, and sorrow for this (viz. sin) proportionable to the\ngreatness of the Majesty despised,'--for that there must needs be\n'either an equivalent punishment, or an equivalent sorrow and\nrepentance'; 'so,' he proceeds, 'sin must be punished with an infinite\npunishment'; thus assuming that the alternative of 'an equivalent\nsorrow and repentance' was out of the question. But, upon the\nassumption of that identification of himself with those whom he came\nto save, on the part of the Saviour, which is the foundation of\nEdwards's whole system, it may at the least be said, that the Mediator\nhad the two alternatives open to his choice,--either to endure for\nsinners an equivalent punishment, or to experience in reference to\ntheir sin, and present to God on their behalf, an adequate sorrow and\nrepentance. Either of these courses should be regarded by Edwards as\nequally securing the vindication of the majesty and justice of God in\npardoning sin.\"--p. 136.\n\nThe side of the alternative which Edwards abandoned, our author takes\nup and follows out. The work of Christ, as a ground of remission,\nconsisted in the offering on behalf of humanity of an adequate\nrepentance. Adequate it could not have been but for his Divine nature;\nwhich attaches to his holy sorrow an infinite moral value, to balance\nthe infinite heinousness of the sin deplored. The only reason why\nhuman penitence does not in itself avail to restore, lies in its\nimperfect purity and depth. Through the cloud of evil, and with the\neye of self, we are disqualified for true discernment of sin as it is:\nboth the limits of a finite nature, and the delusions of a tempted and\nfallen one, hinder us from appreciating the measure of our guilt and\nmisery. Even when our better mind reasserts itself, our very\ncompunction carries in it many a speck of ill, and our repentance\nneeds to be repented of. But were it not for this, there would be\n\"more atoning worth in one tear of the true and perfect sorrow which\nthe memory of the past would awaken,\" \"than in endless ages of penal\nwoe.\" It is not the inefficacy, but the impossibility, of due\npenitence that constitutes our fatal disability; to be relieved from\nwhich we need to be taken out of ourselves, to be identified with a\nperfect spirit; our humanity must cease to be human, and become one\nwith the Divine nature. This is precisely the condition which realized\nitself in Christ. As God in humanity, he had perfect sympathy with the\nholiness of one sphere, and the infirmities of the other; he saw the\nwhole amount of the world's moral estrangement, not only with infinite\npity for its misery, but with infinite horror at its guilt. He could\nboth make a plenary confession for us, and respond unreservedly to the\nFather's righteous judgment; could bear our burden on his heart before\nheaven, and utter the _Miserere_ of holy sorrow, which our most\nplaintive cry can never approach. This is the true nature of his\nsufferings. He \"made his soul an offering for sin,\" yielded it up to\nbe filled with a sense of our real aspect beneath the Omniscient eye,\nand an Amen to its condemning look. Hence his sorrows had nothing\n_penal_ in them, any more than the tears of a devout parent over a\nprodigal child are penal. They are incident to that attitude of soul\nwhich a perfect nature cannot but have in the presence of a brother's\nsin. They are altogether moral and spiritual; and their efficacy as an\nexpiation is that of true repentance; expressing at once our entire\nconfession, acceptance of the Father's just displeasure, and sympathy\nwith his compassionate grieving at our alienation.\n\nAt the same time, this mere retrospective confession would not of itself\navail, were there no better hope for the future of mankind. But our\nMediator's own experience in humanity, his consciousness of intimate\npeace and communion with the Father, opened to him the other side of our\nnature, assured him of its secret capacity for good, and filled him with\nhope in the very moment of contrition. As his sympathy could have\nfellowship with our temptations, so could ours have fellowship with his\nrighteousness; and the light of Divine love that rested actually on\nhimself was thereby a possibility for the universal human soul, and was\nalready hovering round with longing to descend. It was on the strength\nof this assurance that his intercession on our behalf was presented; it\nwould never have pleaded for indemnity in relation to the past, but as\nthe prelude to a real righteousness, a true partnership in his life of\nfilial harmony with God. The validity of his transaction on our behalf\nconsisted in its perfect seizure of the whole reality, its entire\n\"response to the mind of the Father in relation to men\"; sorrow for\ntheir estrangement, conviction of their possible return, and desire to\ndraw them into the spirit of genuine Sonship.\n\nIt was needful, then,--so we conceive our author's meaning,--that the\nsentiments of God towards the world's sin and misery should quit their\nabsolute position, and should come and take their station in humanity;\nand from that field should turn their gaze and expression upward to meet\nthe Father's downward and accordant look. As this \"Amen of the Son to\nthe mind of the Father\" constitutes the essence of the atonement on the\nDivine side, so does it consist on the human side in \"the Amen of each\nindividual soul to the Amen of the Son.\" The reproduction in us of the\nfilial spirit of Christ,--his confession, his pleading, his trust,--is\nour fellowship with him and reconciliation with God.\n\n\"This is saving faith,--true righteousness,--being the living action,\nand true and right movement of the spirit of the individual man in the\nlight of eternal life. And the certainty that God has accepted that\nperfect and divine Amen as uttered by Christ in humanity is necessarily\naccompanied by the peaceful assurance that, in uttering, in whatever\nfeebleness, a true Amen to that high Amen, the individual who is\nyielding himself to the spirit of Christ to have it uttered in him is\naccepted of God. This Amen in man is the due response to that word, 'Be\nye reconciled to God'; for the gracious and Gospel character of which\nword, as the tenderest pleading that can be addressed to the most\nsin-burdened spirit, I have contended above. This Amen is sonship; for\nthe Gospel call, 'Be ye reconciled to God,' when heard in the light of\nthe knowledge that 'God made him to be sin for us who knew no sin, that\nwe might be made the righteousness of God in him,' is understood to be\nthe call to each one of us on the part of the Father of our spirits, 'My\nson, give me thine heart,' addressed to us on the ground of that work by\nwhich the Son had declared the Father's name, that the love wherewith\nthe Father hath loved him may be in us, and he in us. In the light\nitself of that Amen to the mind of the Father in relation to man which\nshines to us in the atonement, we see the _righteousness of God in\naccepting the atonement_, and in that same light the Amen of the\nindividual human spirit to that divine Amen of the Son of God is seen to\nbe what the Divine righteousness will necessarily acknowledge as the\n_end of the atonement accomplished_.\"--p. 225.\n\nIn this view, it is not the rescue from punishment, not any favorable\nchange in our legal standing, not any imputed righteousness, that\nChrist's mediation obtains, but a real transformation of soul and\ncharacter through the divine infection and infusion of his own filial\nspirit. Only in so far as his mind thus spreads to us are we united to\nhim, or in any way partakers of his gift of life. Personal alienation\ncan have no reversal but in personal return; nor can anything\n\"extraneous to the nature of the Divine will itself, to which we are\nto be reconciled, have part in reconciling us to that will.\" The fear\nof hell is not repentance; the assurance of heaven is not salvation;\nnor under any modification can the desire of safety, or the\nconsciousness of its attainment, constitute the least approach to\nholiness. The good alone can touch the springs of goodness; and the\ndivine and trustful life of Christ must speak to us on its own\naccount, and win us by its own power, or not at all. Not that it acts\non us merely in the way of _example_. We do not so stand apart from\nhim in our independent individuality, that by an external imitation we\ncan copy him, and become, as it were, each another Christ, repeating\nin ourselves his offering of propitiation. He is the Vine, of which we\nare the branches. The sap is from him, drawn through the eternal root\nof righteousness, and does but flow as a derived life into us. The Son\nof God is not a mere historical personage, to be contemplated at a\ndistance in the past, but ever with us in the power of an endless\nlife; still succoring us when we are tempted, and ministering to\nconscience a present help and peace. It is not, therefore, by\n_following_ him, but by _abiding in_ him, that we have our fellowship\nin his harmony with God.\n\nThe essence, then, of the scheme of redemption, in the view of our\nauthor, seems to be this: that the Divine nature entered humanity to\nopen the Fatherliness of God by living the life of perfect Sonship; and\nthat, having awakened that life in us by this its visible realization,\nhe sustains it by the inner presence of his Spirit. It is one of the\nobvious consequences of this doctrine, that no exclusive or exceptional\nvalue is to be ascribed to the _death_ of Christ. It is simply the final\nand crowning expression of the same filial mind which is the continuous\nessence of his whole existence upon earth. Nor does the theory attach\nimportance to any _sufferings_ of Christ, as such; but only as media and\nmeasures of moral expression. Had men sinned _as spirits_, his\nreconciling work would not have involved death at all: but since in our\nconstitution mortality is \"the wages of sin,\" his response to the\nDivine mind in regard to sin would have been incomplete, had he not\nhonored this law and tasted its realization. Not to lose sight of the\nmain features of the doctrine in pursuit of details, we must pass\nwithout notice many curious and subtle thoughts of our author on this\npart of his subject. Indeed, everywhere the reader who has patience with\nthe entangled style will find deep hints and delicate turns of\nreflection. But we must withdraw to a little distance from his system,\nand endeavor to look at it as a whole; fixing attention especially on\nthe central point of all,--the _mediatorial provision_, which replaces\nthe penal \"satisfaction\" of the elder Calvinism, and the \"exhibition of\nrectoral justice\" of the modern divines.\n\nInstead of an infinite punishment endured or represented, the theory\noffers us an infinite _repentance_ performed. Repentance for\nwhat?--for human sin. Repentance by whom?--by Him \"who knew no sin.\"\nIs this a thing that can be? Is vicarious contrition at all more\nconceivable than vicarious retribution? It is surely one and the same\ndifficulty that meets them both. On what ground is the transfer of\neither moral qualities or their effects regarded by our author as\nimpossible?--because at variance with our consciousness of the\npersonal and inalienable nature of sin. But not less is this truth\ncontradicted when we say that the guilt may be incurred by one person,\nand the availing repentance take place in another. Nor can any\nimagination of Christ's state of mind identify it with penitence. Mr.\nCampbell himself describes it (p. 135) as having \"all the elements of\na perfect repentance in humanity for all the sin of man--a perfect\nsorrow--a perfect contrition,--all the elements of such a repentance,\nand that in absolute perfection--all--_excepting the personal\nconsciousness of sin_.\" This exception, however, contains just the\nessential element of the whole. Penitence without any personal\nconsciousness of sin is a contradiction in terms; and the requisition\nof the Divine law is, that _the sinner_ shall turn from the evil of\nhis heart, not that the righteous shall make confession for him. The\nentire moral value of contrition belongs to it as the sign of inner\nchange of character from prior evil to succeeding good; and it admits\nof no transplantation from the identical personality which has been\nthe seat of the evil and is the candidate for the good.\n\nFurther, it seems a paradox to say, with our author, that true\nrepentance is impossible to man, who alone needs it; and can be\nrealized only by the Son of God, in whom there is no room for it. It\nwould indeed be a hopeless realm to live in, which should annex to all\nsins both an imperative demand and an absolute disqualification for\nadequate contrition, and first open the fountain of availing tears in\nholy natures that have none to shed. It is, in truth, of the very\nessence of repentance to have its seat in mixed and imperfect moral\nbeings: and our author lays upon it quite an arbitrary requisition,\nwhen he insists that, to pass as adequate, it must contain a perfect\nappreciation of the sin deplored,--a view of it coincident with that\nof God. Under such an aspect as this it could never have appeared to\nus, though we had remained guiltless of it, and recoiled from it: and\nwe can hardly be required to reach, in the rebound of recovery, a\npoint beyond the station which would have prevented the fall. Many\nerrors in theology arise from applying absolute conceptions to\nrelative conditions, and forgetting that religion, as realized in us,\nis a life, a movement, a progress, and not an ultimate limit of\nperfection. Repentance is a transitional state, to which it is absurd\nto apply an infinite criterion: it is a change from the worse to the\nbetter mind, and cannot need the resources or belong to the experience\nof the best. To pronounce it impossible to the wandering and fallen,\nand make it the exclusive function of the All-holy, implies the\nstrangest metamorphosis of its meaning.\n\nBut how, it may be asked, could a paradox so violent find favor with\nan author everywhere intent on the exclusion of fiction from Christian\ntheology? To refer a moral act to the _wrong personality_, to toss\nabout a solemn change like penitence between guilty and innocent, as\nif its particular seat were a matter of indifference, is so serious an\nerror, that it could never enter a mind like Mr. Campbell's, unless\nunder some plausible disguise. Can we find the shape under which it\nhas recommended itself to his approval?\n\nThe sentiment ascribed to the Son of God in regard to sin,--wanting as\nit does the essential penitential element of personal compunction,--is\nsimple sorrow for others' guilt, founded on perfect apprehension of\nits nature. But this attitude of soul in him awakens the conscience of\nhis disciples, and is reproduced in them by fellowship. Spread into\ntheir consciousness, it is no longer clear of the immediate presence\nof sin, but, falling in with it, assumes the missing element, and\nbecomes repentance. When the Christian sense of evil, which ever\npartakes of true contrition, is thus contemplated as a transmigration\nof the Mediator's own spirit into the soul, the two are so identified\nin thought, that what is true only of the human effect is referred to\nthe Divine cause; and the moral sorrow of Christ is regarded as\n_potentially_ equivalent to repentance, because that is _actually_ the\nform of the corresponding phenomenon in us. If this, however,\n_explains_ our author's position, it hardly _justifies_ it.\nIntercession for others in their guilt may _move them_ to remorse for\ntheir own, but is a fact of quite different nature. As attributes and\nexpressions of character, the two phenomena are not to be confounded;\nand as affecting our relation to God, there is the obvious and\nadmitted distinction, that intercession avails not for those who\nremain impenitent, and would not be needed for the spontaneously\npenitent. The sorrowful expostulations of the Son of God have only so\nfar a reconciling effect as they become the medium, in the hearts of\nmen, of an awakened contrition, aspiration, and faith. We cannot\nconceive them to have _immediately_ altered--as repentance _does_--the\npersonal relation between God and the transgressors of His will; else\nthe change would be a change in the Divine sentiment whilst its\nobjects still remained unchanged. The effect _waits_ for its\ndevelopment in souls melted and renewed. And thus the atoning sorrow\nof Christ becomes simply a provision for a healing penitence in men.\n\nThe ascription of \"repentance\" to Christ is curious in another point of\nview. It arises from a blending together of _his_ consciousness and _his\ndisciples'_; from slurring the lines of personality between them; from\nregarding their spiritual state as an organic extension of his, and his\nas the vital root of theirs. In his endeavor to recommend it to us, our\nauthor instinctively runs into abstract expressions in speaking of\nmankind; fusing down concrete men into \"_humanity_\"; referring to the\nMediator as \"God in _humanity_\"; and so, dealing with our nature as if\nit were a single existence, carrying or turning up all its individuals\nas partial phenomena of one essence. On the other hand, in our endeavor\nto correct his doctrine, we have had to lay stress on the inalienable\nand separate character of all particular persons, taken one by one; to\ninsist on the solitude of each responsible agent, and the impassable\nbarriers which forbid the transference of moral attributes from mind to\nmind. Which of these two modes of conception is the truer? For according\nas we incline to the one or the other,--according as we treat _humanity_\nas the organic unit of which individual samples of mankind are numerical\naccidents, or take each man as an integer, of which the race is a\nmultiple,--shall we lean towards mediatorial or towards direct religion.\nWe are firmly convinced that _no_ doctrine of _mediation_--in the strict\nsense implying transactions with God on behalf of men, _as well as_ in\nthe opposite direction--can be harmonized with the modern\n_individualism_; and that it is precisely in the attempt to unite these\nincompatibles, that the forensic fictions to which Mr. Campbell objects,\nand the moral fiction in his own theory to which we object, have had\ntheir origin. They are mere artificial devices to compensate the loss of\nthat realistic mode of conception in which alone a true atoning doctrine\ncan rest in peace. So long as you contemplate the Redeemer as a detached\nperson, not less insulated in his integrity of being than angel from\narchangel or from man, the difficulty will remain insuperable of making\nhis moral acts avail for _other human individuals_, unless by a\nfictitious transference, against which conscience protests. Punishment\nby substitute, righteousness by deputy, vicarious repentance, are\nnotions at variance with the fundamental postulates of the Moral Sense:\nand in the attempt to defend them we are liable to lose the solemn,\nliving, face-to-face reality of the strife within us, and to weave\naround us a web of legal and formal relations, as little like any\nheart-felt veracity as a chancery decree to a law of nature. In\nproportion as the soul is pierced with a sharper contrition, and attains\na deeper and clearer insight into her own unfaithful disorder, will the\ninherent impossibility of any foreign exchange of righteousness become\napparent, and the desire to be shielded from punishment will pass away:\nnor is the conscience truly awakened which does not rather rush into the\narms of its just anguish than start back and fly away. And the more you\nhold up to view the holiness of Christ, the darker will the personal\npast appear to grow; for self-reproach will say: \"Yes, I see him as the\nholy Son of God; the guiltier am I that the vision did not keep me from\nmy sin.\" Talk to such a one of Christ's transactions on our behalf, as\n\"_federal head_\" of a redeemed people; and his misery will take no\nnotice of the cold pretence, unless to think, \"Whatever engagements he\nmade for me, I have broken them all.\" In short, while Christ is regarded\nsimply as an historical individual, with the chasm of an incommunicable\npersonality between him and us, no ingenuity can construct, except from\nthe ruins of moral law, any other bridge of mediation than the suasion\nof natural reverence, by which his image passes into the heart of faith.\n\nIt is otherwise when we break through the restraints of the modern\nindividualism, and strive to enter into that literal identification of\nChrist with Christians which is so frequent with St. Paul. If, instead\nof saying that Christ _had_ our human nature, we could put our thought\ninto this form,--\"He _was_ (and _is_) our human nature,\"--if we could\nsuppose our type of being not merely represented in him as a sample, but\nconcentrated in him as a whole,--we should read its essentials and\ndestination in his biography: his predicates would be its predicates:\nand in his sorrows and sanctity it might undergo purification. Humanity\nthus made into a person would then be the corresponding fact to Deity\nembodied in a person: both would be _Incarnations_,--essential Manhood\nand essential Godhead,--co-present in the same manifested life. In the\nordinary conception of the doctrine of two natures, Christ is\nrepresented, we believe, as _a_ man; in the mode of thought to which we\nnow refer, he appears as _Man_. The difficulties which arise in the\nattempt to carry out this form of thinking are evident enough, even to\nthose who know nothing of the Parmenides of Plato. Indeed, they are\nrendered so obtrusive by our modern habits of mind, that even a\nmomentary seizure, for mere purposes of interpretation, of that older\nintellectual posture, scarcely remains possible to us. The apprehension\nof it, however, is indispensable to one who would appreciate the\nmediatorial theology of Christendom,--a theology which never could have\nsprung up if our present conceptualist and nominalist notions had always\nprevailed, and which, ever since their ascendency in Europe, has been\ndriven to deplorable shifts of self-justification. The parallel between\nthe first and second Adam, the fall and the restoration, the death\nincurred and the life recovered, acquire new meaning for those who thus\nthink,--that as the incidents of Adam's existence become _generic_ by\n_descent_, so the incidents of Christ's existence are generic by\n_diffusion_; that if in the one we see humanity at head-quarters in\n_time_, in the other we see it at head-quarters in _comprehension_; so\nthat, like an atmosphere which, purified at nucleus, has the taint drawn\noff from its margin, our nature is freed from its sickliness in him. It\nbecomes intelligible to us in what sense we are to take refuge in him as\nour including term, to find in him an epitome of our true existence, to\ndie (even to have died) with him, to suffer with him, to be risen with\nhim, to dwell above in him. On the assumption of such a union, his life\nceases to be an individual biography; what is manifested in him\npersonally, becomes true of us universally; and it is as if we were\nall--like special examples in a general rule, or undeveloped truths in a\nparent principle--virtually present in his dealings with evil and with\nGod. It is evident, that in this view his mediation has no chasm to\ncross, no foreign region to enter, but is an inseparable predicate of\nhis own personal acts. The facility of conception afforded by this\nmethod is betrayed by Mr. Campbell's resort to an analogous hypothesis\nas a mere illustrative help to the mind. Witness the following striking\npassage:--\n\n\"That we may fully realize what manner of equivalent to the dishonor\ndone to the law and name of God by sin an adequate repentance and\nsorrow for sin must be, and how far more truly than any penal\ninfliction such repentance and confession must satisfy Divine justice,\nlet us suppose that all the sin of humanity has been committed by one\nhuman spirit, on whom is accumulated this immeasurable amount of\nguilt; and let us suppose this spirit, loaded with all this guilt, to\npass out of sin into holiness, and to become filled with the light of\nGod, becoming perfectly righteous with God's own righteousness,--such\na change, were such a change possible, would imply in the spirit so\nchanged a perfect condemnation of the past of its own existence, and\nan absolute and perfect repentance, a confession of its sin\ncommensurate with its evil. If the sense of personal identity\nremained, it must be so. Now, let us contemplate this repentance with\nreference to the guilt of such a spirit, and the question of pardon\nfor its past sin and admission now to the light of God's favor. Shall\nthis repentance be accepted as an atonement, and, the past sin being\nthus confessed, shall the Divine favor flow out on that present\nperfect righteousness which thus condemns the past, or shall that\nrepentance be declared inadequate? Shall the present perfect\nrighteousness be rejected on account of the past sin, so absolutely\nand perfectly repented of? and shall Divine justice still demand\nadequate punishment for the past sin, and refuse to the present\nrighteousness adequate acknowledgment,--the favor which, in respect of\nits own nature, belongs to it? It appears to me impossible to give any\nbut one answer to these questions. We feel that such a repentance as\nwe are supposing would, in such a case, be the true and proper\nsatisfaction to offended justice. Now, with the difference of\npersonal identity, the case I have supposed is the actual case of\nChrist, the holy one of God, bearing the sins of all men on his\nspirit,--in Luther's words, 'the one sinner,'--and meeting the cry of\nthese sins for judgment, and the wrath due to them, absorbing and\nexhausting that Divine wrath in that adequate confession and perfect\nresponse on the part of man which was possible only to the infinite\nand eternal righteousness in humanity.\"--p. 143.\n\nThe case which our author here presents as an aid to the imagination\nwas to Luther the literal reality; to whom, accordingly, Christ was\n\"the one sinner,\" _without_ \"the difference of personal identity,\"\nwhich is here so innocently slipped in, as if it were of no\nconsequence. Christ, in the Reformer's view, _was_ humanity, _our_\nhumanity; and the grand function and triumph of faith is to feel\nourselves included in him, to merge our individuality, sins and all,\nin his comprehending manhood and atoning obedience. Hence the stress\nwhich Luther lays on \"the well-applying the pronoun\" _our_, in the\nphrase, \"who gave himself for our sins\"; \"that this one syllable being\nbelieved may swallow up all thy sins.\" The effect of this realism on\nthe theology of Luther has not been sufficiently remarked. We believe\nit to be the key to much that is obscure in his writings, and the\nsecret source of his antipathy to the Calvinistic type of the\nReformation. Absorption of Manhood into Christ,--distribution of\nGodhead into humanity,--these were the correlative parts of his\nobjective belief,--Atonement and Eucharistic Real Presence: and\nneither in themselves nor in their correspondence can they be\nappreciated, without standing with him at the point of view which we\nhave endeavored to indicate.\n\nWhether mediatorial religion shall continue to include in its scheme\nsome provision for _dealing with God on behalf of men_, will mainly\ndepend on the successful revival or the final abandonment of the old\nrealistic modes of thought. Mr. Campbell's compromise with them,\ntaking refuge with them for illustration while disowning them in\nsubstance, answers no logical or theological purpose at all. If he\nfollows out the natural tendencies and affinities of his faith, he\nmust rest exclusively at last in the other half of the doctrine, which\nexhibits the _dealing with man on behalf of God_. In this best sense\nmediatorial religion is imperishable, and imperishably identified with\nChristianity. The Son of God, at once above our life and in our life,\nmorally divine and circumstantially human, mediates for us between the\nself so hard to escape, and the Infinite so hopeless to reach; and\ndraws us out of our mournful darkness without losing us in excess of\nlight. He opens to us the moral and spiritual mysteries of our\nexistence, appealing to a consciousness in us that was asleep before.\nAnd though he leaves whole worlds of thought approachable only by\nsilent wonder, yet his own walk of heavenly communion, his words of\ngrace and works of power, his strife of divine sorrow, his cross of\nself-sacrifice, his reappearance behind the veil of life eternal, fix\non him such holy trust and love, that, where we are denied the\nassurance of knowledge, we attain the repose of faith.\n\n\n\n\nFIVE POINTS OF CHRISTIAN FAITH.\n\n\nIt is at all times difficult, even for the wisest, to describe aright\nthe tendencies of the age in which they live, and lay down its\nbearings on the great chart of human affairs. Our own sensations can\ngive us no notice whither we are going; and the infinite life-stream\non which we ride, restless as it is with the surface-waves of\ninnumerable events, reports nothing of the mighty current that sweeps\nus on, except by faint and silent intimations legible only to the\nskilled interpreter of heaven. It is something, however, to have the\nfeeling _that we are moving_, and to be awake and looking out; and\nperhaps there never was a period in which this consciousness was more\ndiffused throughout society than in our own. No one can look up and\naround at the religious and social phenomena of Christendom, without\nthe persuasion that we are entering a new hemisphere of the world's\nhistory,--a persuasion corroborated even by those who disclaim it, and\nwho insist on still steering by lights of tradition now sinking into\nthe mists of the receding horizon. Wherever we turn our eye, we\ndiscover some symptom of an impending revolution in the forms of\nChristian faith. The gross materialism and absolute unbelief diffused\nfor the first time among vast masses of our population; the\nfast-spreading (and, as it appears to us, morbid) dislike to look\nsteadily at anything miraculous; the extensive renunciation, even\namong the religious classes on the Continent, of historical\nChristianity; the schisms and ever-new peculiarities which are\nweakening all sects, and, like seedlings of the Reformation, are\nobscuring the species, by multiplying the varieties, of opinion; the\nrevived controversies, penetrating all the great political questions\nof the age, between the ecclesiastical and civil powers,--are not the\nonly indications of approaching theological change. That very\nconservatism and recoil upon the high doctrine of an elder time, which\nis manifest in every section of the Christian world, is a confession\nby contrast of the same thing. For opinion does not turn round and\nretreat into the past, till it has lost its natural shelter in the\npresent, and dreads some merciless storm in the future. The outward\nstrength which the older churches of our country seem to be acquiring\narises from the rallying of alarm and the herding together of\ntrembling sympathies; and though fear may unite men against external\nassaults upon institutions, it cannot stop the decay of inward doubt.\nIt would seem as if Christianity was threatened by the mental activity\nwhich it has itself created; as if the intellectual weapons which have\nbeen forged and tempered by its skill were treacherously turned\nagainst its life. It is vain, however, to strike a power that is\nimmortal; nothing will fall but the bodily form cast for a season\naround the imperishable spirit.\n\nProtestantism, with all its blessings, has after all greatly\ndisfigured Christianity, by constructing it into a rigid metaphysical\nform, and setting it up on a narrow pedestal of antiquarian proof;--by\ndestroying its infinite character through definitions, and developing\nit dogmatically rather than spiritually;--by treating it, not as an\nideal glory around the life of man, but a logical incision into the\npsychology of God. The wreck of systems framed under this false\nconception will but leave the pure spirit of our religion in the\nenjoyment of a more sacred homage;--you may dash the image, but you\ncannot touch the god.\n\nIn the following remarks we shall seek to make this evident;--to show\nwhat principles of religion in general, and of Christianity in\nparticular, may be pronounced safe from the shocks of doubt. In times\nof consternation and uncertainty, it behooves each one to look within\nhim for the heart of courage, and around him for the place of shelter,\nand to single out, amid countless points of danger, some refuge\nimmutable and eternal. With this view, we propose to trace an outline\nof Christian truths which we consider secure and durable as our very\nnature;--a chain of granite points rising, like the rock of ages,\nabove the shifting seas of human opinion. In doing so, we shall be\nsimply delineating Unitarian Christianity, according to our conception\nof it;--expounding it, not as a barren negation, but as a scheme of\npositive religion; exhibiting both its characteristic faiths, and\nsomething of the modes of thought by which they are reached.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nI. In the _first_ place, WE HAVE FAITH in the _Moral Perceptions of\nMan_. The conscience with which he is endowed enables him to\nappreciate the distinction between right and wrong; to understand the\nmeaning of \"_ought_,\" and \"_ought not_\"; to love and revere whatever\nis great and excellent in character, to abhor the mean and base; and\nto feel that in the contrast between these we have the highest order\nof differences by which mind can be separated from mind. And on this\nconsciousness,--the basis of our whole responsible existence,--no\nsuspicion is to be cast; no lamentation over its fallibility, no hint\nof possible delusion, is to pass unrebuked; it is worthy of absolute\nreliance as the authoritative oracle of our nature, supreme over all\nits faculties,--entitled to use sense, memory, understanding, to\nregister its decrees, without a moment's license to dispute them. That\nJustice, Mercy, and Truth are good and venerable, is no matter of\ndoubtful opinion, in which peradventure an error may be hid;--is not\neven a thing of certain inference, recommended to us by the force of\nevidence;--is not an empirical judgment, depending on the\npleasurableness of these qualities, and capable of reversal, if, under\nsome tyrant sway, they were to be rendered sources of misery. The\napproval which we award to them is quite distinct from assent to a\nscientific probability; the excellence which we ascribe to them is not\nidentical with their command of happiness, but altogether transcends\nthis, precedes it, and survives it; the obligation they lay upon us is\nnot the consequence of positive law, human or divine, or in any way\nthe creature of superior will; for all free-will must itself possess a\nmoral quality,--can never stir without exercising it,--and cannot\ntherefore give rise to that which is a prior condition of its own\nactivity. And if (to pursue the thought suggested above) we could be\nsnatched away to some distant world, some out-province of the\nuniverse, abandoned by God's blessed sway to the absolutism of demons,\nwhere selfishness and sensuality, and hate and falsehood, were\nprotected and enjoined by public law, it is clear that, by such\nemigration, our interests only, and not our duties, would be reversed;\nand that to rebel and perish were nobler than to comply and live. The\ndiscernment of moral distinctions, then, belongs to the very highest\norder of certainties; it has its seat in our deepest reason, among the\nprimitive strata of thought, on which the depositions of knowledge,\nand the accumulations of judgment, and the surface growths of opinion,\nall repose. As experience in the past has not taught it, experience in\nthe future cannot _unteach_ it. The difference between good and evil\nwe cannot conceive to be merely relative, and incidental to our point\nof view,--variable with the locality and the class in which a being\nhappens to rest,--an optical caprice of the atmosphere in which we\nlive;--but rather a property of the very light itself, found\neverywhere out of the region of absolute night; or, at least, a\nnatural impression, belonging to that perceptive eye of the soul,\nthrough which alone we can look out, as through a glass, upon all\nbeings and all worlds; and if any one will say that the glass is\ncolored, it is, at all events, the tint of nature, shed on it by the\nineffaceable art of the Creator. The modes in which we think of moral\nqualities are not terrestrial peculiarities of idea, like foreign\nprejudices; the terms in which we speak of them are not untranslatable\nprovincial idioms, vulgarities of our planetary dialect, but are\nfamiliar, like the symbols of a divine science, to every tribe of\nsouls, belonging to the language of the universe, and standing\ndefined in the vocabulary of God. The laws of right are more\nnecessarily universal than the physical laws of force; and if the same\nagency of gravitation that governs the rain-drop determines the\nevolutions of the sky, and the Principia of Newton would be no less\nintelligible and true on the ring of Saturn than in the libraries of\nthis earth,--yet more certain is it that the principles of moral\nexcellence, truly expounded for the smallest sphere of responsibility,\nhold good, by mere extension, for the largest, and that those\nsentiments of conscience which may give order and beauty to the life\nof a child, constitute the blessedness of immortals, and penetrate the\nadministration of God. This is what we intend, when we insist on\nimplicit faith in the moral perceptions of man. They are to be assumed\nby us as the fixed station, the grand heliocentric position, whence\nour survey of the spiritual universe must be made, and our system of\nreligion constructed. Whatever else may move, here, as in creation's\ncentre of gravity, we take our everlasting stand. Whatever else be\ndoubtful, these are to be simply trusted. The force of certainty by\nwhich nature and God give them to the conscience exceeds any by which,\neither through the understanding or through external supernatural\ncommunication, they might _seem_ to be drawn away. No revelation could\npersuade me that what I revere as just, and good, and holy, is _not\nvenerable_, any more than it could convince me that the midnight\nheavens are not sublime.\n\nThere is nothing to move us from this position, in the objection, that\ndifferent men have different ideas of right and wrong, and that the\nheroic deeds of one latitude are regarded as the crimes of another. This\nmoral discrepancy is, in the first place, infinitely small in proportion\nto the moral agreement of mankind, so that it is even difficult to find\nmany striking examples of it; and when the subject is mentioned,\neverybody expects to hear the self-immolation of the Indian widow, and\nother superstitions of the Ganges, adduced as the standing\nillustrations. What, after all, are these eccentricities of the moral\nsense, compared with the scale of its common consent? As well might you\ndeny the existence of an atmosphere, because you have found the air\nexhausted from a pump! Where is the nation or the individual, without\nthe rudiments, however imperfectly unfolded, of the same great ideas of\nduty which we possess ourselves?--where the language, in which there are\nno terms to denote good and evil,--the just, the brave, the\nmerciful?--where the tribe so barbarous as not to listen, with earnest\neye, to the story of the good Samaritan? And if such there were, should\nwe not call them a people but little human (_inhuman_), and deem them,\nnot the specimens, but the outlaws of our nature? Moreover, the\nvariances of moral judgment are usually only apparent and external. The\naction which one man pronounces wrong and another right, is not the\nsame, except upon the lips: enter the minds of the two disputants, and\nyou will find that it is only half taken into the view of each, and\npresents to them its opposite hemispheres; no wonder that it shows the\ndarkness of guilt to the one, and the sunshine of virtue to the other.\nAnd accordingly, these differences actually vanish as the faculty of\nconscience unfolds itself, and the scope of the mind is enlarged. Like\nthe discrepancies in the ideas which men have of beauty, they exist\nprincipally between the uncultivated and the refined: and the\nwell-developed perceptions of the best in all ages and countries visibly\nagree. Nay, while yet the discordance lasts, it introduces no real\ndoubt: for heaven has established a moral subordination among men, which\nreveals the real truth of our own nature. Do we not always see, that the\nlower conscience bows before the higher;--that the heart, without light\nor heat itself, may be pierced, as with a flash, by a sentiment darted\nfrom a loftier soul, and own it to be from above;--that, simply by this\nnatural allegiance of the lesser to the nobler, classes and nations and\nsects are raised in dignity and moral greatness;--that they, and they\nonly, have had any grand and sublime existence in the history of the\nworld, who have been gifted with power to create a new religion,--a\nfresh development of what is holy and divine;--and that every one so\nendowed has always gathered around him the multitudes ever praying to\nbe lifted above the level of their life, and blessing the benefactor who\nwakes up the consciousness of their higher nature? And if so, the\ngeneral _direction_ of the moral sentiment is the same, however its\nintensity may vary: and the irregular indications which it gives are not\ndue to any inherent vacillation, but to the disturbing causes which\ndeflect it from the celestial line of simplicity and truth.\n\nWe keep our foot, then, on this primitive foundation,--faith in the\nmoral perceptions of man. We say, that we know what we mean, when we\naffirm that a being is just, pure, disinterested, merciful; that these\nterms describe one particular kind of character, and one only; that\nthey have the same sense to whomsoever they are applied, and are not\nto be juggled with, so as to denote quite opposite forms of action and\ndisposition, according as our discourse may be of heaven or of earth;\nthat whenever they lose their ordinary and intelligible signification,\nthey become senseless; and that what would be wrong and odious in any\none moral agent, can be, under similar relations, right and lovely in\nno other. These positions, which we take to be fundamental, are in\ndirect contradiction to the theological maxims with which most\nchurches begin;--viz. that human nature is so depraved that its\nconscience has lost its discernment, sees everything through a\ncorrupted medium, and deserves no trust; that it may surrender its\nconvictions to anything which can bring fair historical evidence of\nits being a revelation;--in other words, that it may be right to throw\naway our ideas of right, and, in obedience to antiquarian witnesses,\nsuppose it holy in God to design and execute a scheme which it would\nbe a crime in man to imitate. These principles are defended by the\nassertion, that the relations of the Divine and the human being are so\ndifferent as to destroy all the analogies of character between them.\nThe only tendency, both of this defence and of the principles\nthemselves, is to absolute scepticism;--to _atheistical scepticism_,\ninasmuch as our propositions respecting God, if not true in the plain\nhuman sense, are to us true in no other, and represent _nothing_; to\n_moral scepticism_, inasmuch as, the sentiments of conscience being\nexposed to distrust, and all its language rendered unsettled, the very\nground on which human character must plant itself is loosened; the\nrock of duty melts into water beneath our feet, and we are cast into\nthe waves of impulse and caprice.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nII. We have Faith in the _Moral Perfection of God_. This indeed is a\nplain consequence of our reliance on the natural sentiments of duty.\nFor it is not, we apprehend, by our logical, but by our moral faculty,\nthat we have our knowledge of God; and he who most confides in the\ninstructor will learn the sacred lesson best. That one whom we may\ncall the Holiest rules the universe, is no discovery made by the\nintellect in its excursions, but a revelation found by the conscience\non retiring into itself; and though we may reason in defence of this\ngreat truth, and these reasonings, when constructed, may look\nconvincing enough, they are not, we conceive, the source, but rather\nthe effect, of our belief,--not the forethought which actually\nprecedes and introduces the Faith, but the afterthought by which Faith\nseeks to make a friend and an intimate of the understanding. Does any\none hesitate to admit this, and think that our conceptions of the\nDivine character are inferences regularly drawn from observation,--not\nindeed observation on the mere physical arrangements, but on the moral\nphenomena, of our world,--from the traces of a regard to character in\nthe administration of human life? We will not at present dispute the\nconclusion; but, observing that the premises which furnish it are\ncertain _moral_ experiences, we remark that the very power of\nreceiving and appreciating these, of knowing what they are worth,\nbelongs not to our scientific faculty, but to our sense of justice and\nof right. On a being destitute of this they would make no impression;\nand in precise proportion to the intensity of this feeling will be the\nvividness and force of their persuasion. And is it not plain _in\nfact_, that it is far from being the clear and acute intellect, but\nrather the pure and transparent heart, that best discerns God? How\nmany strong and sagacious judgments, of coolest capacity for the just\nestimate of argument, never attain to any deep conviction of a perfect\nDeity! Nay, how much does scepticism on this great matter seem to be\nproportioned, not to the obtuseness, but rather to the subtlety and\nsearchingness of the mere understanding? But when was it ever known\nthat the singularly pure and simple heart, the earnest and aspiring\nconscience, the lofty and disinterested soul, had no faith in the\n\"First fair and the First good\"? Philosophy at its ease, apart from\nthe real responsibilities and strong battle of life, loses its diviner\nsympathies, and lapses into the scrupulosity of doubt, and from the\ncentre of comfort weeps over the miseries of earth, and the\nquestionable benevolence of heaven; while the practically tried and\nstruggling, with moral force growing beneath the pressure of crushing\ntoil, look up with a refreshing trust, and with worn and bleeding feet\npant happily along to the abodes of everlasting love. The moral\nvictor, flushed with triumph over temptation, feels that God is on his\nside, and that the spirit of the universe is in sympathy with his joy.\nNever did any one spend himself in the service of man, and yet despair\nof the benignity of God. Our faith, then, in the Divine perfection,\nforms and disengages itself from the deeps of conscience: and the\nHoliest that broods over us solemnly rises--the awful spirit of\neternity--from the ocean of our moral nature.\n\nIt is in conformity with this doctrine of the _moral_ origin of our\nbelief in the first principles of religion, that to every man his God\nis _his best and highest_, the embodiment of that which the believer\nhimself conceives to be the greatest. The image which he forms of that\nBeing may indeed be gross and terrible; and others may be shocked, and\nexclaim that he trusts, not in a Divinity, but in a Fiend: but will\nthe worshipper himself perceive and acknowledge this?--will he not\nindignantly deny it?--will he not eagerly vindicate the perfection of\nthe Deity he serves? He can do no otherwise; for he discerns nothing\nmore sublime, and cannot be convinced that _that_ is low which stands\nat the summit of his thoughts. This uniform phenomenon in the history\nof religion could not exist, if human faith were an inference of\nintellectual origin. There would be nothing _then_ to prevent some\nmen, in their reasonings on the probable character of God, from\nassigning to that character a place _beneath_ their own conceptions of\nwhat is most excellent; and amid the infinite varieties of\nspeculation, many forms of this opinion would undoubtedly arise. Let\nany one, then, who dissents from the account which we have given, ask\nhimself this question: Why is it, that to discover a blemish in a\ndivinity is the same thing as to renounce faith in him; and that, even\nin pagan times, to _assail the character_ of the gods was the constant\nmark of an _unbelieving_ age? Is it not clear that, by a constraining\nnecessity of our being, we are compelled to regard the godlike and the\nperfect as identical, and to look to heaven through the eye of our\nmoral nature? The Intellect alone, like the telescope waiting for an\nobserver, is quite blind to the celestial things above it,--a dead\nmechanism dipped in night,--ready to serve as the dioptric glass,\nspreading the images of light from the Infinite on the tender and\nliving retina of Conscience.\n\nIf, then, there is no discernment of Deity except through our moral\nsense, the importance of confiding in the perceptions of that\nsense,--of rendering our consciousness of them vivid and\ndistinct,--and the corresponding mischief of distrusting and\nrepudiating these our appointed instructors,--become evident. Faith in\nthe human conscience is necessary to faith in the Divine perfection:\nand _this_ again is the needful prelude to the belief in any special\nrevelation. For, unless we are first assured of the truth and\nexcellence of God, we cannot tell that his communications may not\ndeceive us, giving us false notices of things, and agitating us with\nillusory hopes and fears. This might be apprehended from a Being of\nundetermined benevolence and integrity: and that this idea of a\n_mendacious revelation_ has never seriously entered the minds of men,\nis a strong proof of their natural and necessary faith in the\nrectitude and goodness of the Divine Administrator of creation. This\nMoral Perfection of God being assumed as a postulate in the very idea\nof a Revelation, no system of religion which contradicts it can be\nadmitted as credible _on any terms_.\n\nNow the whole scheme of Redemption, as it is represented in the popular\ntheology, appears to us to fall under this condemnation. Under the\n_names_ of Justice, Sanctity, Mercy, it ascribes to the All-perfect a\ncourse of sentiment and of practice which--it is undeniable--no other\nmoral agent, placed in analogous relations, could adopt without the\ndeepest guilt. The Holiness of God, so often adduced to justify the\nseverities of this scheme, we would yield to no one in earnestly\nmaintaining; believing, as we do, that his abhorrence of moral evil is\nabsolute and everlasting, his resistance to it real and true, and his\nlove of excellence simply infinite as his nature. But purity of mind\ndoes not express itself by implacable vengeance against the impure, or\noblige its possessor to engage himself in physically smiting them,--much\nless limit him through all eternity to this mode of administration.\nRather does it incline away from a treatment which too often adds only\ntorment, and removes no guilt,--which makes no advance towards the\nblessed dispositions it loves,--which fevers and parches instead of\ncooling and melting the passions of a culprit nature. It is a coarse and\nwretched error to suppose that anguish is a specific for sin, to the\nincessant infliction of which the Sinless is bound. God never departs\nindeed from his devotion to the laws of goodness, and his design of\ncalling wider and wider virtue into existence: but he pursues them with\nthe fertility of his infinite free-will;--now by the severities of his\ndispleasure,--now by the openness of his forgiveness,--now by the\nsolicitations of his love. His purpose, as one whose perfection is not\nmerely spotless, but active and productive, cannot be, as some\nChristians seem to say, the penal publication of his personal offence\nagainst the insulters of his law, but the spread and cultivation\nthroughout his spiritual universe of pure and high affections: and\nwhenever the new germs of these appear in the garden of the Lord, no\nvernal sunshine or summer dews can more gently cherish the bursting\nflower, than does his mercy foster the fair and early growth. The\nassertion that God cannot pardon and recall to goodness till he has\nexpended his tortures upon the evil, seems to us a plain denial of his\nmoral excellence. Theologians speak as if there were some crime, or at\nleast some weakness, in the clemency which freely receives a repentant\ncreature into favor; as if the mercy which exacts no penalty, when\npenalty is no longer needed, were an amiable imbecility of human nature,\nwhich only a loose-principled and unholy being can exercise! as if\nabsolute unforgiveness were the perfection of sanctity! True, this is\ndisclaimed in words; and the Eternal Father is called merciful, for\nremitting the sinner's doom and transferring the burden of his guilt to\na victim divine and pure. But surely this disclaimer is more insulting\nto our moral sense than the accusation. For, either this transference of\nrighteousness and guilt is a mere figure of speech, denoting only that,\nfrom the death on Calvary, God took chronological occasion to pass his\nown spontaneous pardon, and set up the cross to _mark the date_ of his\nvolition; or else, if the vicariousness be not this mere pretence, it\ndescribes an outrage upon the first principles of rectitude, a reckless\ndisregard of all moral considerations, from the thought of which we are\nastonished that all good men do not recoil.\n\nWe press once more the question which has never been answered: How is\nthe alleged immorality of letting off the sinner mended by the added\ncrime of penally crushing the Sinless? Of what man--of what\nangel--could such a thing be reported, without raising a cry of\nindignant shame from the universal human heart? What should we think\nof a judge who should discharge the felons from the prisons of a city,\nbecause some noble and generous citizen offered himself to the\nexecutioner instead? And if this would be barbarity below, it cannot\nbe holiness above. Moral excellence and beauty, we repeat, are no\nlocal growths, changing their species with every clime; nor are the\npoisonous weeds of this outer region the chosen adornments of\nparadise. The principles of Justice and Right embrace all beings and\nall times, and, like the indestructible conception of space, attach\nthemselves to our contemplation of objects within the remotest\ninfinitude. It is no more possible that what would be evil in man\nshould be good in God, than that a circle on earth should be a square\nin heaven. Having faith, then, in the absolute perfection of our\nCreator, we dare ascribe to Him nothing which revolts the secret\nconscience He has given us.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIII. The relation which thus subsists between the human conscience and\nthe Divine excellence leads us to avow, in the next place, a FAITH in\nthe _strictly Divine and Inspired Character of our own highest Desires\nand best Affections_. We do not mean by this, that these affections\nare of miraculous origin; that their appearance breaks through any\nregular law; or that they do not belong to our own nature so as to\nform an integrant part of its history; or that they do not arise\nspontaneously within it, but require to be precipitated upon it from\nwithout. They are as much properties of our own minds, as our\nselfishness and sin: we are _conscious_ of them, and so they cannot\nbut be parts of our personality.[25] But in admitting them to be\n_human_, I do not deny that they are _divine_: in regarding them as\nindigenous to our created spirit, I do not treat them as foreign to\nthe Creator's; nor is there any inconsistency in believing them to be\nsimultaneously domesticated with both. That which is _included within_\nthe mind of man, is not _therefore excluded from_ the mind of _God_;\nmuch less is it true that occurrences agreeable to the order of nature\nare, by that circumstance, disqualified from being held the immediate\nproducts of the Heavenly Will. The Supreme Cause, so far from being\nshut out by his own secondary causes and natural laws, has now at\nleast no residence, no activity, no existence, except within them; He\ncovers, penetrates, fills them; thinks, speaks, executes, through\nthem, as the media of his volition: and _His_ energy and _theirs_ not\nonly _may coincide_, but even _must coalesce_. He is not to be brought\ndown from his universal dominion to the rank of _one of_ the physical\ncauses active in creation, doing that only which the others have left\nundone. Will any one stand with me by the midnight sea, and, because\nthe tides in the deep below hang upon the moon in the heavens above,\nforbid me to hear in their sweep the very voice of God, and tell me\nthat, while they roll untired on, He sleeps through the silent vault\naround me? It is by the law of gravitation that the planets find an\nunerring track in the desert space; and is it false, then, that He\n\"leadeth them forth with his finger,\" and bids us note, in pledge of\nhis punctuality, that \"not one faileth\"? Is there any error in\nascribing the very same event at one time to gravitation, at another\nto God? Certainly not; for this is but one of the forms of his\npersonal activity. And it is the same in the world of Mind; its\nnatural laws do not exclude, but, on the contrary, include, the direct\nDivine agency: and though _my_ thought, or hope, or love, cannot be\n_yours_, they may yet be God's; not emanations from the God without\nus, but inspirations of the God within. Why should we start to think\nthat there is a part of us which is divine?--why image to ourselves a\ndistant, external, contemplative God, seeing all things and touching\nnothing, gazing on the unconscious evolutions of things, as the\nretired Mechanist of nature?--why enthrone Him in the inertness of\ndead space, without even a sacred function there, and exclude Him from\nthe tried, and tempted, and ever-trembling soul of Man? If we found\nHim not at home in the secret places of strife and sorrow, vainly\nshould we wander to seek Him in the colder regions of nature abroad.\nWe have no sympathy with any system which denies the doctrine of a\nHoly Spirit; which discerns nothing divine in the higher experiences\nof human nature; which owns no black abyss and no heavenly heights in\nthe soul of man, but only a flat, common, midway region, neither very\nfoul nor very fair,--well enough for the streets of traffic, but\nwithout a mount of vision and of prayer. Nothing noble, nothing great,\nhas ever come from a faith which did not deeply reverence the soul,\nand stand in awe of it as the seat of God's own dwelling, the\npresence-chamber of his sanctity,--the focus of that infinite\nwhispering-gallery which the universe spreads around us.\n\nNor can we doubt at what point of our own nature we must stand, in\norder to hear the voice and feel the inspiration of the Eternal. The\npure in heart--each in proportion to his purity--see Him. Our\nConscience, our Moral Perceptions, as we have seen, are our only\nrevealers of God. In proportion to their clearness do we discern Him;\nand behind the clouds that obscure them, He becomes dim, and vanishes\naway. The aspirations of duty, the love of excellence, the\ndisinterested and holy affections, of which every good heart is\nconscious, constitute our affinity with Him,--by which we know Him, as\nlike knows like: they are the expression of his mind, the pencil of\nrays by which He paints his image on our spiritual nature. God is\nrelated to our soul, like the sun in a stormy sky to the windowed\ncells in which mortals live; and as we sit at our work in the chamber\nof conscience or of love, the burst of brilliancy or the sudden gloom\nwithin reports to us the clear-shining or the cloud of the heaven\nwithout. Nor can any philosophy, falsely so called, permanently expel\nthis conviction from the Christian heart. Every devout and earnest\nmind naturally feels that its selfishness and sin are of the earth,\nearthy,--the most offensive of all attitudes to God,--the infatuated\nturning of the back to Him: and, on the other hand, welcomes the fresh\nglow of pure Resolve, the heart-felt sob of Penitence, the glorious\nCourage that slays Temptation at his feet,--each as the gracious gift\nof a divine strength, and the authentic voice of the Inspirer, God. By\nthis natural faith (natural, however, only to the Christian mind) we\nare prepared to abide; and, with the Apostle Paul, to own ourselves,\nnot without deep awe, the very temple of the Holiest.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIV. We have said, that in the Conscience and Moral Affections we have\nour _only_ revealers of God. Let it be understood that we mean our\nonly _internal_ revealers of Him; the only faculty of our nature\ncapable of furnishing us with the idea and belief of Him, with any\nperception of his character, and allegiance to his will. We mean to\nstate that, without this faculty, the bare intellect, the mere\nscientific and reasoning power, could make no way towards the\nknowledge of divine realities; could never, by any system of helps\nwhatsoever, be trained or guided into this knowledge, any more than,\nin the absence of the proper sense, the _ear_ of the blind can be\ntaught _to see_; and that nature, life, history, miracle,\nnotwithstanding their most sedulous discipline, would leave us utterly\nin the dark about religion, except so far as they addressed themselves\nto our consciousness of what is holy, just, beautiful, and great. But\nwe do _not_ mean to state that the Moral Sense can stand alone,\ndispense with all outward instruction, and supply a man with a natural\nreligion ready made. Nor do we mean that the every-day experience of\nman, and the ordinary providence of God, are enough, without special\nrevelation, to lead us to heavenly truth. And we are therefore\nprepared to advance another step, and to say, that, while regarding\nthe human conscience as the only inward revealer of God, we have FAITH\nin CHRIST as _his perfect and transcendent outward revelation_. We\nconceive that Jesus of Nazareth lived and died, not to _persuade_ the\nFather, not to _appease_ the Father, not to make a sanguinary\n_purchase_ from the Father, but simply to \"_show_ us the Father\"; to\nleave upon the human heart a new, deep, vivid impression of what God\nis in himself, and of what he designs for his creature, man; to\nbecome, in short, the accepted interpreter of heaven and life. And\nthis he achieved, in the only way of which we can conceive as\npracticable, by a new disclosure in his own person of all that is holy\nand godlike in character,--startling the human soul with the sudden\napparition of a being diviner far than it had yet beheld, and lifting\nits faith at once into quite another and purer region. If it be true,\nas we have ventured to affirm, that to every man his God is his\n_best_, you can by no means give to his faith a _higher God_, till you\nhave given to his heart a _better best_,--till you have touched him\nwith a profounder sense of sanctity and excellence, and purified and\nenlarged the perceptions of his conscience. Nor can you do _this_,\nexcept by presenting him with nobler models, with the living form of a\nfairer and sublimer goodness, visibly transcending every object of his\nprevious reverence. No verbal teaching, no didactic rules, can\ntransform any man's moral taste, and place before his mental view a\nlovelier and truer image of perfection: as well might you hope, by\ndefinition, and precept, and book-wisdom, to train an artist with a\nsoul like Raffaelle, or an eye like Claude. But only give the glorious\nmodel to the mind, _produce_ the most finished excellence and harmony,\nand our instinctive sympathy with goodness feels and discerns it\ninstantly, and, though unable to conceive it inventively beforehand,\nrecognizes it reverently afterwards. And so Christ, standing in\nsolitary greatness, and invested with unapproachable sanctity, opens\nat once the eye of conscience to perceive and know the pure and holy\nGod, the Father that dwelt in him and made him so full of truth and\ngrace. Him that rules in heaven we can in no wise believe to be _less\nperfect_ than that which is most divine on earth; of anything _more\nperfect_ than the meek yet majestic Jesus, no heart can ever dream.\nAnd, accordingly, ever since he visited our earth with blessing, the\nsoul of Christendom has worshipped a God resembling him,--a God of\nwhom he was the image and impersonation;--and, _therefore, not_ the\nGod of which philosophy dreams,--a mere Infinite physical Force,\nwithout spirituality, without love, chiefly engaged in whirling the\nfly-wheel of nature, and sustaining the material order of the heavens,\nand weaving in the secret workshop of creation new textures of life\nand beauty; _not_ the God of which natural theology speaks, the mere\nchief of ingenious mechanicians, more optical, and dynamical, and\narchitectural, than our most skilful engineers,--a cold intellectual\nBeing, in the severe immensity and immutability of whose mind all warm\nemotions are absorbed and dissolved; _not_ the God of Calvinism,\ncreating a race with certain foresight of the eternal damnation of the\nmany, and against the few refusing to relax his frown except at the\nspectacle of blood;--but the Infinite Spirit, so holy, so\naffectionate, so pitiful, whom Jesus felt to be in him as his\nInspirer; who passes by no wounds of sin or sorrow; who stills the\nwinds and waves of terror, to the perishing that call on him in faith;\nwho stops the procession of our grief, and bids bereaved affection\nweep no more, but wait upon the voice that even the dead obey; who\nscathes the hypocrite with the lightning of conviction, and permits\nthe penitent to wash his feet with tears; who reckons most his own the\ngentlest follower, that rests the head and turns up the trustful eye\non him; and bends that look of piercing love upon the guilty which\nbest rebukes the guilt. Jesus has given us a faith never held before,\nand still too much obscured, in the _affectionateness_ of the Great\nRuler; has made Him our own domestic God, whose ample home encircles\nall, leaving not the solitary, the sinner, or the sad without a place\nin the mansions of his house; has wrapped us in the Divine immensity\nwithout fear, and bid us claim the warm sun in heaven as our Paternal\nhearth, and the vault of the pure sky as our protecting roof.\n\nWe have spoken of Christ's personal representation, in his own character\nand practical life, of the spirit of the Divine Mind, and have explained\nhow in this way we believe that he has \"shown us the Father.\" This,\nhowever, is not all. His _direct teachings_, perfectly in harmony with\nhis life, confirm and extend its lessons; and we listen, with venerating\nfaith, to his inimitable exposition of all divine truth. Purity of soul\nmakes the most wonderful discoveries in heavenly things, and is indeed\nthe pellucid atmosphere through which the remoter lights of God are\n\"spiritually discerned.\" As we have said, the knowledge of him which any\nmind (be it of man or of angel) may possess, is just proportioned to its\nsanctity: and our Messiah, having the very highest sanctity, was enabled\nto speak with the highest and most authoritative knowledge, and was\ninspired to be our infallible guide, not perhaps in trivial questions of\nliterary interpretation, or scientific fact, or historical expectation,\nbut in all the deep and solemn relations on which our sanctification and\nimmortal blessedness depend. And both to his person and to his teachings\ndo the miracles of his life, the tragedy of his crucifixion, and the\nglory of his resurrection, articulately call the attention of all ages,\nas with the voice of God. In every way we discern in Christ the\ntranscendent revelation of the Most High. We are told, that this is to\n_dishonor Christ_. We think it, however, a more glorious honor to him,\nto be thus indissolubly folded within the intimacy of the Father's love,\nthan to be blasted by the tempest of his wrath; nor could we ever trust\nand venerate a God who--like the barbarians in the judgment-hall--could\nsmite that meek lamb of heaven with one rude blow of vengeance.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nV. But we hasten to observe, finally, that WE HAVE FAITH in HUMAN\nIMMORTALITY, as exemplified in the heavenly life to which Jesus\nascended. To assure us of this great truth, it were enough that Jesus\nassumed and taught it; that it was his great postulate, essential to\nthe development of his own character, and to all his views of the\npurposes of life,--an integrant part of his insight into human\nresponsibility and his version of human duty. For if _he_ did not\nteach the reality of God in this matter, sure we are that none else\nhas ever done so; and most of all, that the sceptics who doubt the\nheavenly futurity have no claim to take his place as our instructors.\nFor if this hope were a delusion, _who_ would the mistaken be? Will\nany one tell me, that the voluptuary, who, from abandonment to the\nbody, cannot imagine the perpetuity of the spirit;--that the selfish,\nwho, looking at the meanness of his own nature, sees nothing worth\nimmortalizing;--that the contented Epicurean, who, in prudent quietude\nof sense and sympathy, finds adequate satisfaction in this mortal\nlife;--that the cold speculator, who looks at the fouler side of human\nnature, and, showing us on its features the pallor of sensualism or\nthe hard lines of guilt, deems it less fit for the duration of the\nangel than for the extinction of the brute;--that these men are\n_right_; while Christ, who walked without despair through the deepest\nhaunts of sin, with faith that succumbed not to wretchedness and\nwrong, but stood up and conquered them; who embraced our whole nature\nin his love, and displayed it in its perfectness; who lived and died\nin its utmost service, with prayers and tears and blood; to whom our\nmost binding affections cling almost with worship as the holiest glory\nof our world;--that _he_ could be under a delusion _here_?--that when,\nsinking in trustful death, he laid his meek head to rest on the bosom\nof the Father, he was cast off, and dropped on the cold clod?--that he\nsobbed into the Infinite by night with a vain love that met no\nanswer?--that God rather takes part in his providence with the\nmean-souled, the cynic, the morbid, the selfish? There _is_ no greater\nimpossibility than this, on which evidence can fall back. Nay, we\nconfess that, even apart from his doctrine, the mere mortal history of\nChrist would have settled with us the question of futurity. For the\ngreat essential to this belief is a sufficiently elevated estimate of\nhuman nature: no man will ever deny its immortality who has a deep\nimpression of its capacity for so great a destiny. And this impression\nis so vividly given by the life of Jesus,--he presents an image of the\nsoul so grand, so divine,--as utterly to dwarf all the dimensions of\nits present career, and to necessitate a heaven for its reception. At\nall events, it is allowable to feel this, when we see that this\nnatural sequel was actually and perceptibly appended; that this \"Holy\nOne of God could not see corruption,\" but rose, above the reach of\nmortal ill, to the world where now he welcomes the souls of the\nsainted dead. That other life we take to be a scene for the mind's\nampler and ampler development, apart from those animal and selfish\nelements which now deform and degrade it by their excess. And this\nalone, if there were nothing else, would render it a life of awful\nretribution. For to the wicked, what is this loss of \"the natural\nman,\" but total bereavement and utter death of joy?--what to the good,\nbut a glad and sacred birth?--to the one, a Promethean exile on a\nmid-rock in the ocean of night, under the bite of a remorse that gnaws\nimpalpably, felt always, but never seen,--to the other, a welcome to\nthe loving homes of the blest, amid the sunshine of the everlasting\nhills? Yet precisely because we believe in Retribution, do we trust in\nRestoration. The very abhorrence with which a man's better mind ever\nlooks upon his worse, while it inflicts his punishment, begins his\ncure: and we can never allow that God will suspend this natural law\nimpressed by himself on our spiritual constitution, merely in order to\nstop the process of moral recovery, and specially enable him to\nmaintain the eternity of torment and of sin. And so, beyond the dark\nclose of life rise before us the awful contrasts of retribution; and\nin the farther distance, the dim but glorious vision of a purified,\nredeemed, and progressive universe of souls.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nHere, then, are our Five Points of Christianity, considered as a\nsystem of positive religious doctrine, viz.:--1st. The truth of the\nMoral Perceptions in man,--not, as the degenerate churches of our day\nteach, their pravity and blindness; 2dly. The Moral Perfection of the\ncharacter of God,--in opposition to the doctrine of his Arbitrary\nDecrees and Absolute Self-will; 3dly. The Natural awakening of the\nDivine Spirit within us,--rather than its Preternatural communication\nfrom without; 4thly. Christ, the pure Image and highest Revelation of\nthe Eternal Father,--not his Victim and his Contrast; 5thly. A\nuniversal Immortality after the model of Christ's heavenly life; an\nimmortality not of capricious and select salvation, with unimaginable\ntorment as the general lot, but, for all, a life of spiritual\ndevelopment, of retribution, of restoration.\n\nTo the _Moral_ doctrine which, in our view, the Gospel conjoins with\nthis religious system, it is impossible for us at present to advert.\nSuffice to say that, with Paul, we exclaim, \"not _Law_, but\n_Love_\":--love to God, to Christ, not simply for what they have done\nfor us, but chiefly for what they are in themselves;--nothing like the\nnarrow-hearted gratitude for an exclusive salvation, but a _moral_\naffection awakened by their holiness, rectitude, truth, and mercy,--by\nthe sublimity and spirituality of their designs, and the sanctity and\nfidelity of their execution: love also to man, looking to him not\nmerely as a sentient being who is to be made _happy_, but as a child\nof God, who is to be raised into some likeness to the Divine image; as\na brother spirit, noble in nature, even though sinful in fact,\nglorious as an immortal in the eye of God, though disfigured by this\nworld's hardship or contempt.\n\nDoes any one ask, _where we get_ our system of faith and morals? What\nare the principles of reasoning which we apply to nature and Scripture\nto extract it thence? The reply would require a volume of exposition.\nSuffice it to say, that we think we have full warrant for this belief\nfrom the Scriptures of the New Testament, with which alone we conceive\nthat Christians have any practical concern; that, in interpreting these\nScriptures, we follow the same rules which we should apply to any other\nbooks; that not even could their instructions make us false to that\nsense of right and wrong which God has breathed into us; that if they\ntaught respecting him anything unjust or unholy, we should not accept\n_it_, but reject _them_; and that, as to the points of faith on which we\nhave dwelt, some receive these truths because they were taught by\nChrist; others receive Christ because he taught these truths.\n\nOn this faith we desire to take our stand, with the firmness, but\nwithout the ferocity, of the first Reformers. Opposing churches tell\nus, we \"are so frigid\"! Why, it is the very thing our own hearts had\noften said to us; for there is nothing that so promptly rebukes the\ncoldness of our nature as the warmth of our faith. We do not, however,\nmuch admire this mutual criticism of each other's temperature; and\nstrongly suspect the reality of that earnestness which prides itself\non its own intensity. We must not propose to assume any artificial\nheats, in order to spite and disprove this frequent accusation; but be\nresolved, in an age diseased with pretence, to remain realities, to\nprofess nothing which we do not believe, to withhold nothing whereon\nwe doubt, to affect nothing which we do not feel, to promise nothing\nwhich we will not do; holding, with Paul, that simplicity and\nsincerity are truly the godliest of things. With Heaven's good help,\nmay we bear our testimony thus; deeming it a small thing to be judged\nby man's judgment; and, with such light and heat as God shall put into\nour hearts, delivering over our portion of truth to generations that\nwill give it a more genial welcome. There is greatness in a faith,\nwhen it can win a wide success or make rapid conquest over submissive\nminds. There is a higher greatness in a faith that, when God ordains,\ncan stand up and do without success;--unmoved amid the pitiless storms\nof a fanatic age; with foot upon the rock of its own fidelity, and\nheart in the serene Infinite above the canopy of cloud and tempest.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[25] Perhaps we should rather say, \"they cannot be alien to our\nnature.\" The word _personality_ is used by philosophical writers to\ndenote that which is _peculiar_, as well as essential, to our\nindividual self. In this strict sense the moral and spiritual\naffections are _impersonal_, according to the doctrine of the context,\nwhich treats them as constituting a participation in the Divine\nnature. The metaphysical reader will perhaps perceive here a\nresemblance to the theory of Victor Cousin, who maintains that the\n_will--the free and voluntary activity_--of the human being is the\nspecific faculty in which alone consists his _personality_; and that\nthe intuitive reason by which we have knowledge of the unlimited and\nabsolute Cause, as well as of ourselves and the universe as related\neffects, is independent and impersonal,--a faculty not peculiar to the\nsubject, but \"from the bosom of consciousness extending to the\nInfinite, and reaching to the Being of beings.\" \"Reason,\" observes\nthis philosopher, \"is intimately connected with personality and\nsensibility, but it is neither the one nor the other: and precisely\nbecause it is neither the one nor the other, because it is in us\nwithout being ourselves, does it reveal to us that which is not\nourselves,--objects beside the subject itself, and which lie beyond\nits sphere.\" At the opposite pole to this doctrine, which makes the\nperceptions of \"Reason\" a part of the activity of God, lies the system\nof Kant and Fichte, which represents God as an ideal formation,--it\nmay be, therefore, a _fiction_,--arising from the activity of the\n\"Reason.\" This faculty is treated by these German philosophers as\nmerely _subjective and personal_; its perceptions, even when they seem\nto go beyond itself, are known only as internal conditions and results\nof self-activity; its beliefs, though inevitable to itself, are simply\nrelative, and have no objective validity. The faiths and affections\nwhich this system regards as purely human, are considered by the other\nas divine. The doctrine maintained above, though resembling that of\nKant in one or two of its phrases, far more nearly approaches that of\nCousin in its spirit. It is scarcely necessary to observe that, in\nthis note, the word \"Reason\" is used, not as equivalent to\n\"Understanding,\" but in the German sense so long rendered familiar to\nthe English reader by the writings of Mr. Coleridge. It includes,\ntherefore, (in its two senses of \"_Speculative_\" and \"_Practical_,\")\nthe \"Moral Perceptions\" and \"Primitive Faiths of the Conscience,\"\nspoken of in the text.\n\n\n\n\nCREED AND HERESIES OF EARLY CHRISTIANITY.\n\n    1. \u03a9\u03c1\u03b9\u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 \u03a6\u03b9\u03bb\u03bf\u03c3\u03bf\u03c6\u03bf\u03c5\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03b1 \u03b7 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1 \u03c0\u03b1\u03c3\u03c9\u03bd \u03b1\u03b9\u03c1\u03b5\u03c3\u03b5\u03c9\u03bd \u03b5\u03bb\u03b5\u03b3\u03c7\u03bf\u03c2.\n    _Origenis Philosophumena sive omnium h\u00e6resium refutatio. E codice\n    Parisino nunc primum edidit_ Emmanuel Miller. Oxonii: e\n    Typographeo Academico. 1851.\n\n    2. _Hippolytus and his Age; or the Doctrine and Practice of the\n    Church of Rome under Commodus and Alexander Severus; and Ancient\n    and Modern Christianity and Divinity compared._ By CHRISTIAN\n    CHARLES JOSIAS BUNSEN, D.C.L. In Four Volumes. London. 1852.\n\n\nWhen a stranger knocks at the gate of the Clarendon Printing-house,\nand presents his petition for aid, the University of Oxford maintains\nits national character for good-natured opulence,--gives its money and\nsigns its name, without very close inquiry into the case. The\ndocuments are really so respectable that there cannot be much amiss;\nand a venerable institution, well known to be fond of the house,\ncannot be expected to go trudging through the back-lanes of history,\nand exposing its nostrils in the purlieus of heresy, in order to\nidentify a literary petitioner, evidently above all common imposture.\nSo it supplies all his wants upon the spot, dresses him handsomely,\nand sends him out into the world as its worthy (though eccentric)\nfriend, the catechist of Alexandria. The introduction, being left at\nthe Prussian Legation, falls into the hands of no stay-at-home\nbenefactor, but of one who knows the by-ways of human life, and has an\near for the dialects of many a place. M. Bunsen--as Oxford might have\nremembered--is not unacquainted with Egypt; and no sooner does he\nraise his eyes from the credentials to the person of the stranger,\nthan he discovers him to be no disciple of the Alexandrine Clement;\nrecognizes the accent of the West; is reminded of the voice of\nIren\u00e6us; and, finally, being even more familiar with the Tiber than\nthe Nile, detects a Roman beneath the mask of Origen. We do not in the\nleast grudge the friend of Niebuhr the honor of a discovery which no\none could turn to more effectual account; but every English scholar\nmust feel mortified that the _Imprimatur_ of our great Ecclesiastical\nUniversity should appear on a title-page manifestly false; that the\nfirst reader should see at a glance what the learned proprietors had\nmissed; and that their _Editio Princeps_ of a recovered monument of\nChurch antiquity should be superseded within a year or two of its\npublication. They are not principals, it is true, but only secondaries\nto the Editor, in the commission of this error: still, a lay\nbibliographer might reasonably expect, in resorting for aid to so\nrenowned and reverend a body, that his own judgment would be kept in\ncheck; and their very consent to issue the work implies _some_\ncritical opinion of its value, as derived from age and authorship.\nWhether they are called upon to adopt at once M. Bunsen's proposed\ntitle-page, and substitute the name of Hippolytus for that of Origen,\nwe will not say; but that the present title gives the book to the\nwrong author, seems placed beyond the reach of doubt.\n\nM. Emmanuel Miller, one of the curators of the National Library in\nParis, was the first to make himself acquainted with the contents of\nthis work, and to appreciate their importance. Among the manuscripts\nunder his care was one on cotton paper of the fourteenth century,\nwhich had been brought from Mount Athos in 1842, by M. Myno\u00efdes Mynas,\na Greek agent employed by the French government to search the\nneglected treasures of that celebrated spot. The superscription, \"On\nall Heresies,\" was not inviting; but on turning over the leaves, some\nlines, unknown before, of Pindar and of another lyric poet, were found\nand copied; and the value of these excerpts being ascertained, M.\nMiller's attention was directed to the body of the treatise containing\nthem. The treatise had already been described, in the _Moniteur_ of\nthe 5th of January, 1844, as a Refutation of all Heresies, in ten\nbooks, but with the first three missing, as well as the conclusion of\nthe whole; and he soon became aware, that, of the three missing books,\nthe first already existed, and had been printed under the name of\n\"Philosophumena,\" in the editions of Origen's works. Its very title is\nfound in the manuscript at the end of the fourth book, and denotes\nthat the portion of the work there concluded completes the sketch of\nphilosophical systems, which the author prefixes to his account of\necclesiastical aberrations; and there are mutual references, backwards\nand forwards, between the printed book and the manuscript, which leave\nno doubt that the latter is a sequel to the former. The Editor,\ntherefore, has very properly reprinted the \"Philosophumena\" as the\ncommencement of the newly recovered work; which thus exhibits a\nregular plan, and consists of two parts, viz.: first, four books,--of\nwhich the second and third are lost,--expounding the Pagan\nphilosophies, especially the Greek, from which, the author contends,\nthe various heresies of Christendom are mere plagiarisms; then six\nbooks, containing an account, in an order prevailingly historical, of\nthirty or thirty-two heresies, supported by extracts from their\nstandard writings, and wound up in the recapitulary book at the end by\nthe writer's own profession of faith. Now who is the author?\n\nNot Origen; for, as Huet had already remarked respecting the\n\"Philosophumena,\" the writer speaks of himself in terms implying an\nepiscopal position; and, in the ninth book, he gives an account of\ntransactions in Rome, extending over many years, in which he was\nevidently an eyewitness and an actor. While the scene is thus laid at\na distance from Origen's sphere, and the date also of the personal\nmatter runs back into his boyhood, the cast of the theological\ndoctrine is wholly different from his; for instance, in a certain\n\"Treatise on the Universe,\" to which the author refers as his own, and\nof which a fragment is preserved, the penal condition of the wicked\nafter death is said to be immutable;[26] but Origen, it is well known,\ntaught a doctrine of final restoration. Add to this, that no such work\nas the present is attributed to Origen by any ancient witness, and the\ncase against his name may be regarded as complete.\n\nThe evidence which disappoints this claim narrows also our choice of\nothers. The personal transactions to which we have referred took place\nat Rome, while Zephyrinus and his successor, Callistus, presided over\nthe Christian community there, that is, during the first twenty years\nof the third century. We must, therefore, look for our author among\nthe metropolitan clergymen of that period. Still closer is the circle\ndrawn by the fact, that the writer largely borrows from the treatise\nof Iren\u00e6us on the same subject; and, though vastly improving on that\nfoolish production, and copiously contributing fresh materials,\nbetrays the general affinity of thought which unites the stronger\ndisciple with the feebler master.\n\nThe problem then being to find a pupil of the Bishop of Lyons among\nthe ecclesiastics of Rome, at the beginning of the third century, two\nnames are given in as answering the conditions,--those of Hippolytus,\na suburban clergyman, and of Caius, whose charge lay within the city\nitself. In order to vindicate the claim of the first, it has been\nnecessary for M. Bunsen to prove that his locality is right; and that\nthe \"Portus Rom\u00e6,\" of which he was bishop, was not, as Le Moyne and\nCave had groundlessly supposed, the Arabian \"Portus Romanus\" of the\ndistrict of Aden, but the new harbor made, or at least enlarged, by\nTrajan, on the northern bank of the Tiber, immediately opposite to\nOstia. That he suffered martyrdom there, and was buried in a cemetery\non the Tiburtine road, is generally admitted, on the evidence of\nPrudentius, who has left a poem describing his memorial chapel on that\nspot, and of a statue of him, seated in a cathedra, which was dug up\nthere three hundred years ago, and now stands in the library of the\nVatican. It is certainly perplexing to find Jerome avowing ignorance\nof the see over which he presided, if, for a quarter of a century, he\nwas active at the centre of the Christian world; and not less so to\ndiscover in Rome itself, nay, in a Pope, or his transcriber, at the\nend of the fifth century, the impression that his scene of labor had\nbeen in Arabia; and under the influence of these facts it has been\nsupposed that though, coming to Italy, he had fallen among the martyrs\nof the West, he ought to be reckoned among the bishops of the East. On\nthe whole, however, the reasons preponderate in favor of his\nresidence, as \"Episcopus Portuensis,\" within the presbytery of Rome.\nThe title itself is an old one, still always assigned to some\ndignitary of the curia, and, no doubt, deriving its origin from the\ntime when the Northern Harbor of the Tiber--of which in the ninth\ncentury, scarce a trace was left--was a flourishing emporium. The name\nof Hippolytus is associated by tradition with the spot; it is given,\nour author assures us, to a certain tower, near Fiumicino; and in the\neighth and ninth centuries, a basilica of St. Hippolytus was restored\nat Portus by Leo III. and IV. An episcopal palace still remains. By\nacute and skilful combinations, effected with evidence scanty as a\nwhole, and suspicious in every part, M. Bunsen has endeavored to\nreproduce the historical image of Hippolytus. His office of \"bishop\"\nimplied simply the charge of the single congregation at Portus; the\nmembers of that congregation were the \"plebs\" committed to his\nsupervision; the city or village in which they lived was his diocese.\nHis vicinity to the great capital drew him, however, into a wider\ncircle of duties. For while Rome itself was divided into several\necclesiastical districts, each of which had its own clergyman and lay\ndeacons, the suburban bishops were associated with these officers to\nform a committee of management, or presbytery, presided over by the\nmetropolitan. By his seat at this board, he was kept in living contact\nwith all the most stirring interests of Christendom, which, wherever\ntheir origin might be, found their way to the imperial city, and more\nand more sought their equilibrium there. At a commercial seaport, his\nown congregation would largely consist of temporary settlers and\nmercantile agents, Greek brokers, Jewish bankers, African importers,\nto whom Italy was a lodging-house rather than a home; and by the\ncontinual influx of foreigners he would hear tidings of the remotest\nchurches, and carry to the clerical meetings in the city the newest\ngossip of all the heresies. Possibly this position, with its\nopportunities of various intercourse, may have contributed to form in\nhim the agreeable address, and faculty of eloquent speech, which\ntradition ascribes to him; and induced him to commence the practice of\nwriting with studious care the homilies which were to be delivered in\nthe congregation. At all events he is the first of whom we distinctly\nhear as a great preacher. His period extends, it is supposed, from the\nreign of Commodus (180-193) to the first year of Maximin (235-6); and\nso brought him into the same presbytery-room with five popes,--Victor\n(187-198); Zephyrinus (201-218); Callistus (219-222); Urbanus\n(223-230); and Pontianus (230-235); with the last of whom he shared,\nin the last year of his life, a cruel exile to Sardinia, and returned\nonly to fall a victim to fresh informations, and suffer martyrdom by\ndrowning in a canal. It cannot be denied that, in order to recover\nthis picture of Hippolytus, and still more in order to fix his\nliterary position, the materials of evidence have to be dealt with in\nsomewhat arbitrary fashion, and their _lacun\u00e6_ to be filled by\nconjecture. Prudentius, for instance, is called as an historical\nwitness, yet convicted of fable in much of what he says. His poem\ndeclares that at one time Hippolytus had supported Novatus in his\nattempt to close the gates of repentance against the _Lapsi_, but had\nbeen reconciled to the catholic doctrine before he died. He must in\nthis case have joined in the opposition raised by Novatianus (in 251)\nto the election of Cornelius to the papacy, and have died in the\nDecian persecution, which continued till the year 257. Moreover, the\npainting seen by the Spanish versifier on the walls of the memorial\nchapel introduces us to so ridiculous a story, as only to show how\ncompletely the martyrological legends had already escaped all the\nrestraints of history. In this fresco the mythical fate of Hippolytus,\nthe son of Theseus, is transferred to the Roman presbyter: he is\nrepresented as torn to pieces by horses; while the faithful follow to\npick up his limbs and hair, and sponge away the blood upon the ground.\nIf the sanctuary exhibiting this scene received the martyr's remains\nfrom their original resting-place as early as the time of\nConstantine,--and such is our author's opinion,--into what a state of\ndegradation had the history of Hippolytus sunk in three quarters of a\ncentury! And if already memorial painting could thus impudently lie,\nhow can we better trust the statue, admitted to be later still? Yet\nthis statue, on whose side is a list of the writings of Hippolytus, is\nappealed to in determining the martyr's written productions, as the\npainted chapel in evidence of facts in his personal career. We fully\nadmit the success of M. Bunsen in eliciting a possible result from a\nmass of intricate and tangled conditions, and presenting us with a\nhighly interesting personage. But perhaps, as the venerable image of\nthe good bishop has grown in clearness before his eye, and attracted\nhis affection more and more, the very vividness of the conception may\nhave rendered him insensible to the precariousness of the proof.\nEcclesiastical fancy, in its unrestrained career, has torn his\npersonality to pieces, and left the _disjecta membra_ so rudely\nscattered on the strand of history, that we almost doubt the power of\nany critical \u00c6sculapius to restore him to the world again.\n\nAt the same board of church councillors with Hippolytus sat another\n\u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u03b9\u03c9\u03c4\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b1\u03bd\u03b7\u03c1,[27] the presbyter Caius; and as an urban clergyman, he\nwould be more constantly there than his suburban brother, separated by a\ndistance of eighteen miles. To form any living image of him from the\nscanty notices of him which begin with Eusebius and end with Photius, is\nquite impossible. In one respect only do the personal characteristics\nattributed to him distinguish him from the bishop of Portus. He was a\nstrenuous opponent of the peculiarities favored by the Christians of\nLesser Asia, and especially of the claims to prophetic gifts, and the\nappeal to clairvoyant skill, by Montanus and his followers. With one of\nthese, by name Proclus, he held a disputation; from which Eusebius has\npreserved a passage or two, showing, in conjunction with the title, not\nvery intelligibly assigned to him, of \"Bishop of the Gentiles,\" that he\nbelonged to the most advanced anti-Jewish party in the Church, lamented\nthe grossness of the popular millenarian dreams, vindicated the\napostolic dignity of the Roman against the pretensions of the Eastern\nChristianity, and disowned the Epistle to the Hebrews. This feature in\nthe figure of Caius, though constituting the distinction, does not,\nhowever, necessarily _oppose_ him to Hippolytus, whose attitude towards\nthe Montanists may not have been very different, but only less\npositively marked. Still the suspicions directed against the two men are\nof an opposite kind: with Hippolytus, the difficulty is to set him clear\nof sympathy with Montanism;[28] with Caius, to prevent his being classed\nwith its unmeasured opponents, the Alogi.[29] And a report even reaches\nus, that among the Chaldean Christians there exists, or did exist in the\nfourteenth century, a controversial treatise of Hippolytus against\nCaius.[30]\n\nBetween these two men, so similar in position, and not, perhaps, unused\nto sharp argument face to face, springs up, at the end of all these\nages, a rival claim to property in the \"Refutation of all the Heresies.\"\nThe chief counsel for Hippolytus, besides our author, are the eminent\nProfessors Jacobi, Duncker, and Schneidewin,--all, we believe, belonging\nto the Neander school of theology; and as the last two are about to edit\nthe work anew, and probably to give it its final form, their opinion of\nits authorship may be expected to prevail. The other side, however,\nadvocated by Dr. Fessler, is sustained by perhaps the greatest of living\nhistorical critics, F. C. Baur, representative of the much-abused\nT\u00fcbingen school. Into so intricate a question we might be excused for\ninviting our readers, had we anything fresh to offer towards its\nsolution; but the chief impression we have brought from its study is one\nof astonishment at the extreme positiveness with which the learned men\non either side affirm their own conclusion. A more equal balance of\nevidence we never remember to have met with in any similar research; and\nthe faint and slender preponderance which alone the scale can ever\nexhibit, amusingly contrasts with the triumphant assertion, of both sets\nof disputants, that not a reasonable doubt remains. The leading points\nof M. Bunsen's case are these. A work \"On all Heresies\" is attributed to\nHippolytus, and in no instance to Caius, by Eusebius, Jerome,\nEpiphanius, and Peter of Alexandria, at the beginning of the fourth\ncentury. Such a book was still extant in the ninth century; for Photius,\nthe celebrated patriarch of Constantinople, has given us an account of\nits contents in the journal and epitome of his studies which he has left\nus. On comparing his report with the newly discovered book, the identity\nof the two works is established in some important respects: the _number_\nand _concluding term_ of the series of heresies are the same; they both\nof them include materials taken from Iren\u00e6us, while reversing his order\nof treatment. Further, in the newly found treatise reference is made by\nthe author to other works of his, in which he has discussed certain\npoints of early Hebrew chronology in proving the antiquity of the\nAbrahamic race. Now, Eusebius was acquainted with a certain \"Chronicle\"\nof Hippolytus, brought down to the first year of Alexander Severus; and\nsuch a chronicle, in a Latin translation, is found in Fabricius's\nedition of Hippolytus, only that its list of Roman emperors terminates,\nnot with the beginning, but with the end, of Severus's reign. It has,\nhowever, in common with our work, a peculiar number of tribes,--viz.\nseventy-two, derived from Noah. Thus, the author of the \"Heresies\" and\nof the \"Chronicle\" would appear to be the same, and, according to\nEusebius, to be Hippolytus. Lastly, both in our new work, and also in a\nbook called the \"Labyrinth,\" written against some Unitarians of the\nsecond century, reference is made to a treatise \"On the Universe,\" which\nthe author mentions as his own production. By printing a fragment of\nthis last in his edition of \"Hippolytus,\" Fabricius has shown to what\nname all three should, in his judgment, be set down; and that they\ncannot be given to Caius is rendered evident by the occurrence, in the\nfragment, of certain Apocalyptic fictions inconsistent with his\nrejection of the Book of Revelations. Moreover, the list of works on the\nstatue of Hippolytus includes a disquisition \"Against the Greeks and\nagainst Plato, or _Respecting the Universe_.\"\n\nWhat can be said to weaken so strong a case? Two doubts at once arise\nupon it, which we find it by no means easy to set aside. Granted,\nHippolytus wrote a book \"On all Heresies\"; is it the same which is now\ndelivered into our hands? One medium of comparison we possess,\nenabling us to place the original and the present book, for a short\nspace, side by side. The very Peter of Alexandria who is one of the\nearly witnesses called on Hippolytus's behalf has handed down to us a\npassage or two (preserved in the Paschal Chronicle) from the book\nwhich he attests, with a distinct reference to the place where they\nare to be found. We turn to the right chapter, and the passages are\n_not there_. Nor is it a mere want of verbal agreement which we have\nto regret; the same topic--the controversy about the time of\nEaster--is treated; the same side--that of the Western Church--is\ntaken, in both instances; but the arguments are different, and so far\nirreconcilable, that no one who had command of that which Peter gives\nwould ever resort to the feebler one which our work contains. With the\ndauntless ingenuity of German criticism M. Bunsen makes a virtue of\nnecessity, and endeavors to convert this unfortunate discrepancy into\na fresh proof of identity. He thinks that, in this and some other\nparts, our work is but a clumsy abstract of Hippolytus's original,\nwhich the citations of Peter enable us to recover and complete. This,\nhowever, is a plea which, it strikes us, damages his case as much by\nsuccess as it could by failure. For if the book presented to us by the\nClarendon Press reflects the original no better than would appear from\nthis only sample which it is in our power to test, it may indeed be a\ndegenerate descendant from the pen of Hippolytus; but all reliable\nidentity is lost, and the traces of his hand are no longer\nrecoverable. The second doubt is this:--Is the work which Photius read\nthe same that has now been rescued? Of the few descriptive marks\nsupplied by the patriarch, there are as many absent from our work as\npresent in it. The treatise which he read was a \"_little book_\" or\n\"_tract_,\" as Lardner calls it (\u03b2\u03b9\u03b2\u03bb\u03b9\u03b4\u03b1\u03c1\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd), a word which can\nscarcely apply to a volume extending (as ours would, if complete) to\nfour hundred and twenty octavo pages. M. Bunsen cuts down this number\nto two hundred and fifty, by supposing Photius to have only the last\nsix books, containing the historical survey, without the groundwork of\nthe philosophical deduction, of the heresies. The curtailment, if\nconceded, seems scarcely adequate to its purpose, and appears to us a\nvery questionable conjecture. The manuscript, stripped of the first\nfour books, would want the very basis of the whole argument; and, if\nsuch a mutilation were conceivable, it is impossible that Photius\nshould fail to observe and mention it; for the fifth book opens, not\nlike an independent treatise, but with a summary statement of what has\nbeen accomplished \"_in the four books preceding this_.\" Again, Photius\nmentions the _Dositheans_ as the first set of heretics discussed;\nwhereas their name does not occur at all, if we remember right, in our\nwork, and their place is occupied by the \"Ophites.\" M. Bunsen treats\nthis as a mere inaccuracy of expression on the part of Photius, who\nmeant, by the name \"Dositheans,\" to indicate the same \"earliest\nJudaizing schools\" that are better described as \"Ophites.\" The name,\nhowever, is so unsuitable to this purpose, that it would be a strange\nwilfulness in the learned patriarch to substitute it for the language\nof the author he describes. He could not be ignorant that Dositheus,\nSimon, Menander, were the three founders of the Samaritan sect,\nexponents of the same doctrine, if not even reputed _avatars_ of the\nsame divine essence;[31] and if he had applied the name _Dositheans_\nto any of the heretics enumerated in our work, it would assuredly have\nbeen to the _followers of Simon_, who stand _fourth_ in the series of\nthirty-two, and not to Phrygian serpent-worshippers, who commence the\nlist. Further, the author whom Photius read stated that his book was a\nsynopsis of the Lectures of Iren\u00e6us. In our work no such statement\noccurs; and the use made of Iren\u00e6us does not agree, either in quantity\nor character, with the substance of the assertion. And, lastly, the\npatriarch's Hippolytus said \"some things which are not quite correct;\nfor instance, that the Epistle to the Hebrews is not by the Apostle\nPaul.\" In our work there is no such assertion; and when M. Bunsen\nsuggests that perhaps its place might be in the lost books, he forgets\nthat, according to his own conjecture, these books were no more in\nPhotius's hands than in ours, and that he cannot first cut them off in\norder to make a \u03b2\u03b9\u03b2\u03bb\u03b9\u03b4\u03b1\u03c1\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd, and then restore them, to provide a locus\nfor a missing criticism on the Epistle to the Hebrews. The identity of\nour \"Philosophumena\" with the treatise which Photius read and\nHippolytus wrote, appears, therefore, to be extremely problematical.\n\nOne fixed point, however, is gained in the course of the argument, and\ngives an acknowledged position from which the opposite opinions are\nwilling to set out. Whoever wrote the disquisition \"On the Universe\"\nwrote also our work. This fact rests on the assertion of the author\nhimself; yet, if the author be Hippolytus, and our \"Philosophumena\" be\nhis \"Refutation of all Heresies,\" it is strange that no list of his\nwritings mentions _both_ books: the catalogues of Eusebius and Jerome\nnaming the \"Heresies\" without the essay \"On the Universe\"; and the\nengraving on the statue giving the essay \"On the Universe\" without the\n\"Heresies.\" How can we explain it, that these ecclesiastical writers, in\nknowing our work, did not know what is contained in it about the\nauthorship of the other book; and that this book should have wandered\n_anonymously_ about down to the ninth century, side by side with an\nacknowledged writing of Hippolytus, which all the while was proclaiming\nthe solution of the question? We should certainly expect that the book\nof avowed authorship would convey the name of Hippolytus to the\ncompanion production for which it claims the same paternity; but,\ninstead of this, it not only leaves its associate anonymous for six\nhundred years, but afterward assumes the modest fit, and becomes\nanonymous itself. Even if no previous reader had sense enough to put the\ntwo things together, and pick out the testimony of the one book to the\norigin of the other, are we to charge the same stupidity on the erudite\nPhotius, who had both books in his hand, and has given his report of\nboth? In his account of Hippolytus's treatise, he nowhere tells us that\nit contains a reference to the essay \"On the Universe,\" as being from\nthe same pen; and that he found no such reference is certain; for he\nactually discusses the question, \"Who wrote the essay on the Universe?\"\nwithout ever mentioning Hippolytus at all. Just such a reference,\nhowever, as he did _not_ find in Hippolytus, he _did_ find in _another_\nwork, of which he speaks under the title of \"The Labyrinth\"; and,\nstrange to say, it was at the _end_ of the work,[32] precisely where it\nstands in our \"Philosophumena.\" Who can resist the suspicion, that the\nanonymous \"Labyrinth\" of Photius is no other than our anonymous\n\"Philosophumena\"? This conviction forced itself upon us on first\nweighing the evidence collected by M. Bunsen, in support of his\ndifferent conclusion; and we observe that it is the opinion sustained by\nthe great authority of Baur,[33] who even finds a trace in our work of\nthe very _title_ given by Photius; the writer observing, at the\nbeginning of the tenth book, \"The _Labyrinth of Heresies_ we have not\nbroken through by violence, but have resolved by refutation alone with\nthe force of truth; and now we come to the positive exposition of the\ntruth.\" At all events, the difference of title in the case of a work\nhaving probably more names than one, is of no weight in disproof of\nidentity. With this new designation in our possession, we may return to\nsearch for our book in the records of ecclesiastical antiquity; and we\nhave not far to go, before we alight on traces affording hopes of a\nresult. No \"Labyrinth,\" indeed, turns up in the literary history of\nearlier centuries than Photius; but a \"_Little_ Labyrinth\" is mentioned\nby Theodoret,[34] as sometimes ascribed to Origen, but as evidently not\nhis; and from his account of it, confirmed by the matter which he\nborrows from it, we learn that it was a controversial book, against a\nset of Unitarians in Rome, followers of Theodotus. It so happens that\nthe very passage from this tract which Theodoret has used appears also,\nwith others from the same source, in Eusebius, only quoted under another\ntitle,--the book being called a \"Work against the Heresy of Artemon\"\n(who was another teacher of the same school in the same age). The\nextracts thus preserved to us are not found in our work; which,\ntherefore, if it be the \"Labyrinth,\" is a distinct production from the\n\"Little Labyrinth\"; but they are so manifestly from the same pen,\noccupied in the same task, as to render it perfectly conceivable that\nthe two books might receive the same name, with only a diminutive\nepithet to distinguish the lesser from the greater. Nor are we left, as\nBaur has shown, without a distinct assertion by our \"great unknown,\"\nthat he had already composed a smaller treatise on the same subject;\nfor, in the introduction to the \"Philosophumena,\" he says of the\nheretics, \"We have before given a brief exposition of their opinions,\nrefuting them in the gross, without presenting them in detail.\" This\nshorter work would naturally treat of the particular forms of error most\nimmediately present and mischievous before the author's eyes; and if he\ndwelt especially on the doctrines of Theodotus and Artemon, it is just\nwhat we should expect from an orthodox Roman. This essay, on a limited\nrange of heresy, would naturally be issued at first with the special\ntitle by which Eusebius refers to it. But if it led the author to\nexecute afterwards a much enlarged design, to which, from its intricate\nextent, he gave, on its completion, the fanciful designation of \"The\nLabyrinth,\" he might naturally carry the name back to the earlier\nproduction, and, to mark the relation between the two, issue this in\nfuture as \"The Little Labyrinth.\" Photius speaks of the tract against\nthe heresy of Artemon as a separate work from \"The Labyrinth,\"[35] and\nsays the same thing of the latter[36] that Theodoret had remarked of the\nformer, that by some it was ascribed to Origen. The result to which we\nare thus led is the following. Our newly found work is not Hippolytus's\n\u03b2\u03b9\u03b2\u03bb\u03b9\u03b4\u03b1\u03c1\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd \"On all Heresies,\" but the book known to Photius as \"The\nLabyrinth\"; the author of which had previously produced two other works,\nviz. \"The Little Labyrinth\" mentioned by Theodoret, and quoted under\nanother name by Eusebius, and the \"Treatise on the Universe,\" whose\ncontents Photius reports. Whatever, therefore, fixes the authorship of\nany of these, fixes the authorship of all.\n\nNotwithstanding, however, our threefold chance, we have only a\nsolitary evidence on this point. Attached to Photius's copy of the\n\"Treatise on the Universe\" was a note, to the effect that the book was\nnot (as had been imagined) by Josephus, but by Caius, the Roman\npresbyter, who also composed the \"Labyrinth.\"[37] In the absence of\nother external testimony, this judgment appears entitled to stand,\nunless the books themselves disclose some features at variance with\nthe known character of Caius.\n\nBut, it is said, such variance we do actually find. For while our work\nexpressly appeals to the Apocalypse as the production of John, we know\nfrom Eusebius that Caius ascribed it to Cerinthus, and, in opposing\nhimself to Montanism, rejected the millenarian doctrine which is taught\nin the Revelations. This argument, we admit, would be decisive if its\nallegations were indisputable. It is curious, however, that the one\n_locus classicus_,[38] from which is inferred the presbyter's\nrepudiation of the Apocalypse, is confessedly ambiguous; and the charge\nit prefers against Cerinthus may amount to either of these two\npropositions; that he had composed the Book of Revelations and palmed it\non the world as the production of the Apostle John; or, that he had\ngiven himself the air of a great Apostle, and published accordingly some\nrevelations affecting to be imparted, like those of John, by angels.\nAccording to this last interpretation, the work of Cerinthus would be a\nbook distinct from our Apocalypse, written in imitation of it, and\nseeking to share its authority. The contents of the production are\nbriefly described by Caius; but they present such a mixture of agreement\nand disagreement with our canonical book, as to leave the ambiguity\nunresolved. They affirm, that after the resurrection will follow an\nearthly kingdom of Christ, in which the lower nature of man will, in\nJerusalem, be again in servitude to passion and pleasure; and that the\nnumber of a thousand years are to be spent in the indulgence of sense.\nSo far as the _place_ and the _duration_ of the kingdom are concerned,\nour Apocalypse might here be referred to; but it has nothing answering\nto the description of a gross and luxurious millennium. Taking the\npassage in conjunction with the similar statement of Theodoret, that\n\"Cerinthus invented certain revelations, pretending that they were given\nin vision to himself,\" we think it unlikely that our Apocalypse can be\nmeant; and conceive the indictment to be, that Cerinthus had put forth a\nset of apocryphal visions, in which he abused the style and corrupted\nthe teachings of a great Apostle to the purposes of a sensual\nfanaticism. This is a charge which Caius might bring, in consistency\nwith the fullest acceptance of the Apocalypse as authentic and true. It\nwas not the doctrine of a reign of Christ on earth, not the millenarian\nperiod assigned to it, to which he objected in Cerinthus; but the coarse\nand demoralizing picture given of its employments and delights. In\nproportion to his respect for the real Apocalypse and its teachings,\nwould he be likely to resent such a miserable parody on its lofty\ntheocratic visions. His opposition to the Montanists in no way pledged\nhim to renounce the eschatological expectations which they were\ndistinguished from other Christians not by entertaining, but by\nexaggerating. If our work, in its notice of their heresy, passes by in\nsilence this particular element of the system, and treats their claim to\nspecial gifts of prophecy with less contemptuous emphasis than might be\nlooked for in the antagonist of Proclus, there is nothing that ought\nreally to surprise us in this. It does not follow that, because in our\nscanty knowledge we have only one idea about an historical personage,\nthe man himself never had another. Caius did not live in a perpetual\nplatform disputation with Proclus; and either before that controversy\nhad waked him up, or after it was well got over, he might naturally\nenough dismiss the Montanists with very cursory notice; in the one case,\nbecause they had not yet adequately provoked his antipathy; in the\nother, because they had already had enough of it.[39]\n\nNothing therefore presents itself in our work which should deter us from\nattributing it to Caius; and the more we ponder the evidence, the more\ndo we incline to believe it his. This result is to us an unwelcome one;\nboth because we know how strong the presumption must be against a\ncritical judgment condemned by the masterly genius of M. Bunsen, and\nbecause he has really made us in love with his ecclesiastical hero,--has\nput such an innocent and venerable life into that old effigy, that after\nwandering with him about the quays of Portus, and entering with\nlistening fancy into the Basilica[40] where he preached, it is hard to\nreturn him into stone, and think of him only as a dead bishop who made a\nbad almanac. Should our readers have contracted no such ideal\nattachment, we fear that this discussion of authorship may appear as\ntrivial as it is tedious. Somebody wrote the \"Philosophumena,\" and\nwhether we call him Hippolytus or Caius, whether we lodge him on the\nTiber within sight of the _Pharos_, or of the _Milliarium Aureum_, may\nseem a thing indifferent, so long as the elements of the personal image\ndo not materially change. This utilitarian impression is by no means\njust, and indeed is at variance with all true historical feeling. But it\nis time that we should give it its fair rights, and turn from the name\nupon our new book to its substances and significance.\n\nMany sensible persons are at a loss, we believe, to understand why this\nrefutation of thirty-two extinct heresies should be regarded with so\nmuch interest. Is it so well done, then? they ask. Far from it: better\nbooks are brought out every year; and such a controversial argument\noffered in manuscript to Mr. Longman or Mr. Parker to-morrow, would\nhardly be deemed worth the cost of printing. Does it add materially to\nour knowledge of the early heresies? Something of this kind it certainly\ncontributes; but the gain is not large, and will make no essential\nchange in the conclusions of any competent historical inquirer. Is any\nlight thrown by it on the authenticity of our canonical books? This can\nhardly be expected from a production of the third century; and M.\nBunsen's application of it to this purpose appears to us, for reasons\nwhich we shall assign, extremely precarious. Perhaps it supplies the\nwant which every student of that period must have felt, and organically\njoins ecclesiastical to civil history, so that they no longer remain\napart,--the one as the stage for saints and martyrs, bishops and books,\nthe other for soldiers and senators, emperors and paramours,--but mingle\nin the common life of humanity. When we think how the author was placed,\nit is impossible not to go to him with an eager hope of this nature. He\nlived at the centre of the vast Roman world, and felt all the pulsations\nand paroxysms of that mighty heart. He witnessed the ominous decline of\nevery traditional maxim and national reverence in favor of imported\nsuperstitions and degenerate barbarities. Under Commodus he saw the\nancient Mars superseded by the Grecian Hercules, and Hercules\nrepresented by an emperor who sunk into a prize-fighter, and the\nadministration of the empire in the wanton hands of a Phrygian slave,\nwho was only less brutal than his master. In the midst of pestilence,\nwhich had become chronic in Italy from the time of M. Antoninus, and of\nwhich a Christian bishop could not but know more than others, the city\nwas still adding to its semblance of splendor and salubrity; and the\nmagnificent baths and grounds that were opened to the public service at\nthe Porta Capena, with the multiplied festivities and donatives,\nattested how little mere physical attention to the people can arrest the\nmiseries of a moral degradation. Nor could the Christians of that age be\nwholly without insight into the habits of the highest class in Rome,\nfor, in that great _colluvies_ of heterogeneous faiths, the caprice of\ntaste, if not some better impulse, determined now and then an inmate of\nthe palace to favor the religion of Christ; and the favorite mistress of\nCommodus, who ruled him while she could, and then had him drugged and\nstrangled in his sleep, is the very Marcia whom our presbyter describes\nas \u03c6\u03b9\u03bb\u03bf\u03b8\u03b5\u03bf\u03c2 and at whose intervention the Christian exiles were released\nfrom their banishment in Sardinia. If he was at home when the excellent\nPertinax was murdered, and cared to know what tyrant was to have the\nworld instead, he was perhaps in the throng that ran to the Quirinal,\nand heard the Pr\u00e6torians shout from their ramparts that the empire was\nfor sale, and saw the bargain with the foolish senator below, who bought\nit with his money, and paid for it with his head. Caius and his people\nhad reason to tremble when they saw in Septimius Severus not only the\nimplacable conqueror who suffered no political opponent to live, but the\nworshipper of demons, the gloomy and fitful devotee of astrology and\nmagic, pliant only to sacerdotal hate; and when the young Origen came to\nbe their guest awhile, and told of the terror in Alexandria which had\njoined his father to the band of martyrs, the post that just then\nbrought the news of the Emperor's death in Britain would seem to take\noff a weight of fear; especially as one son at least of the two\ninheritors of the empire had in childhood been committed to a Christian\nnurse, and been said to shrink and turn away from the savage spectacles\nof the amphitheatre. They were doomed to be disappointed, if they had\nplaced any hope in Caracalla, and to find that what they had taken in\nthe boy for the nobleness of grace, was but the timidity of nature; the\nmurder, before his mother's face, of his only brother, and then of his\nbest counsellor, for refusing to justify the fratricide, would soon make\nthem ashamed of remembering that he had ever heard the name of Christ.\nIt would be curious to know how the Christians comported themselves when\nthe Priest of the Sun became monarch of the world, and seemed intent on\ndethroning every divinity to enrich the homage to his own. The grand\ntemple on the Palatine, which he built for the god of Emesa, every\npasser-by must have seen as it rose from its foundations. And when the\nblack stone was paraded on its chariot through the streets, and the\nelder deities were compelled to leave their shrines and attend in escort\nto the Eastern idol, or when the nuptials were celebrated between the\nSyrian divinity and the goddess of Carthage, and Baal-peor and Astarte\nsucceeded to the honors of Jove, no Christian presbyter could fail to\nwitness the gorgeous and humiliating procession,--renewed as it was year\nby year,--or to ask himself into what deeper abomination the city of\nthe Scipios must sink, ere the catastrophe of judgment made a sudden\nend. The orgies of Helagabalus were more insulting to the elder Paganism\nof Rome than injurious to the new faith, which equally detested both;\nand the offended moral feeling of the city reacted perhaps in favor of\nthe Christian cause, and prepared the way for that more public teaching\nof the religion, in buildings avowedly dedicated to the purpose, which\nwas first permitted in the succeeding reign. The natural recoil in the\nimperial family itself from the degradation of the court tended,\nperhaps, in the same direction, and drove the astute Mam\u00e6a to seek, amid\nthe universal corruption, for some school of discipline which might save\nthe young Alexander Severus from the ignominy of her sister's son.\nWhether from this motive, or from suspicion of the growing force of\nChristianity as a social power, she had sent for Origen, and had an\ninterview with him at Antioch; and the Roman disciples had reason to\nrejoice that her intellectual impressions of their system should have\nbeen derived from such a man, and her political estimate of it formed in\nthe East, where the crisis of conflict between the dying and the living\nfaiths was more advanced than in the West, and afforded a less disguised\naugury of the result. From their fellow-believers trading with the\nLevant, or arriving thence, the pastors of the metropolis would learn\nthe propitious temper of the young C\u00e6sar and his mother; and would feel\nno surprise, when he succeeded to the palace of his cousin, that he not\nonly swept out the ministers of lust and luxury, but in his private\noratory enshrined, among the busts of Pagan benefactors, the images also\nof Abraham and of Christ. They could not, however, but observe how\nlittle the morals of the court and the wisdom of the government could\nnow avail to arrest the progress of decay, and reach in detail the vices\nand miseries of a degenerate state. When they passed the door of the\npalace, they heard the public crier's voice proclaim, \"Let only purity\nand innocence enter here\"; they visited a Christian tradesman in a\nneighboring street, and found him just seized by a nobleman whom he had\ndunned for an outstanding debt, charged with magic or poisoning, doomed\nto pine in prison till he gave release, and no redress or justice to be\nhad. The Emperor who, gazing in his chapel on the features of Christ,\nrecognized a religion human and universal, was the first under whom a\nvisible badge was put upon the slave, and a distinctive servile dress\nadopted; the slave markets were still in consecrated spots, the temple\nof Castor and the Via Sacra; and if ever some captive Onesimus,\nrecommended by letters from the East to the brethren in Rome, was\nbrought to the metropolis for sale, thither must the deacon or the\npastor go to find how the auction disposes of their charge, and learn\n_which_ among the chalked feet it is that are \"shod with the preparation\nof the Gospel of peace.\" The commonwealth had never boasted of so many\ngreat jurists as in the age of Papinian and Paulus; but as the science\nof Law was perfected, the power of Law declined; and Alexander Severus,\nthe justest of emperors, was unable to protect Ulpian, the greatest of\ncivilians, from military assassination in the palace itself, or to\npunish the perpetrators of this outrage on popular feeling as well as\npublic right. The three days' tumult, in which this master of\njurisprudence fell the victim of Pr\u00e6torian licentiousness, our presbyter\nCaius must have witnessed; and countless other momentous scenes, during\na generation painfully affluent in vicissitude, must have passed before\nhis eyes; and had he but known of what value his reports would be to\nthis age of ours, he would have said more of the life he saw, and less\nof the speculations he denounced. To us it would have been worth\nanything to know just what was too close to him to catch his eye;--how\nthe Christians lived in such a world; what thoughts stirred in them as\nthey walked the streets and heard the news; what happened and was said\nwhen they met together, and how this could adjust itself with the real\nfacts of an inconsistent and tyrannical present; and how, as the\ncorrupted State became ever more incapable of vindicating moral ends,\nthe rising Church undertook the secret governance of life, and\npenetrated with its authority into recesses beyond the reach, not of the\narm of administration only, but of the definitions of the widest code.\nBut in this respect also our author fails to realize our hopes. He gives\nus a book of fancies rather than of facts, and instead of painting\nexistence, which is transient, and must be caught as it flies, occupies\nhimself in describing nonsense, which is always to be had. The\nenormities of Helagabalus, though staring him in the face, are nothing\nto him in comparison with heresy in Lesser Asia, which keeps Easter on a\nwrong day. He is shut up within the interior circle of the community of\nbelievers, and gives but a single glimpse beyond; and builds for us no\nbridge to abolish the mysterious separation of ecclesiastical and ideal\nfrom civil and real existence in the early ages of our faith. He is not\npeculiar in this defect. We all of us live in the midst of history\nwithout knowing it, and ourselves _make_ history without feeling it; and\nthat which will most clearly paint us in the thought of other times,\nwhich will seem our _power_ to them, our romance and nobleness, with\nwhich, therefore, they will most crave to satiate their eye, is\nprecisely what is least consciously present to us,--the natural spirit\nand daily spring of our common being, through which not the will of man,\nbut the providence of God, works its appointed ends. At all events, the\ninsight which we should be best pleased to gain into the life of the\nthird century is not given even incidentally, except in the scantiest\nmeasure, by the \"Philosophumena,\" which we must rank, in this respect,\nbelow the Apologies, and with the writings of Iren\u00e6us and Epiphanius.\nThe book is dogmatic and controversial, and the interest attached to it\narises entirely from its being a _register of opinion_, a new witness to\nthe thoughts about divine things, which the Christianity of its period\nowned and disowned. For those who care at all to know the state of\nbelief a century before the Council of Nice, the work possesses a high\nvalue. But the worth of this sort of information is itself a thing\ndisputed, at least its _religious_ worth; and will be very differently\nestimated, according to the preconception which occupies us as to the\nnature of Divine Revelation, and the sources open to us for the\nattainment of sacred truth. Here it is that we find M. Bunsen's great\nand peculiar strength. His religious philosophy, taken by itself, brings\nus occasionally to a pause of doubt. His historical criticism is not\nalways convincing. But his doctrine of the _relation between_ religion\nand history, of the mingling of divine and human elements in the theatre\nof time, and of the special agency of Christianity in the spiritual\neducation of mankind, appears to us profoundly true and beautiful. This\nit is that makes him attach so much importance to the creed of the\nsecond and third centuries, and to the new light now thrown upon it; an\nimportance which, from every ordinary point of view, can scarcely fail\nto appear fanciful and exaggerated.\n\nThe Roman Catholic, for instance, entertains a conception about what\nsacred truth is, and how it is to be had, which, leaving nothing to\ndepend on new discoveries, discharges all the richest interest from\nany fresh knowledge we may gain of religion in the past. With him\ndivine truth, so far as it is special to Christendom, is something\nwholly foreign to the human mind, intrinsically unrelated to any\nfaculty we have. In being supernatural, it belongs to another sphere\nthan that to which our thought is restricted, and is totally withdrawn\nfrom all the movements of our nature. It consists, indeed, in a set of\nobjective facts from which we are absent, and which no ratiocination\nof ours can seize, any more than our ear can tell whether there be\nmusic on Saturn's ring. There is no human consciousness answering to\nit; and to resort thither for it is like asking the dreamer or the\nblindfold to describe the scene in which he stands, or consulting your\nown feelings to learn what is going on in Pekin or Japan. On this\ntheory, the objects of faith are conceived of as objects of\n_perception_, only by senses otherwise constituted than ours; we can\nhave no surmise about them, till they are announced to us by qualified\npercipients, and no comprehension of them even then, but only\nreception of them as facts imported for us from abroad. The bearing of\nthis doctrine of invisible realism on the treatment of ecclesiastical\nhistory is manifest. The inaccessible facts are deposited with the\nsacerdotal corporation; with whom alone is vested the duty and the\npower of stating and defining them. They are not indeed all stated and\ndefined in their last amplitude at once; for definition is always an\nenclosure of the true by exclusion of the false; and it is only in\nproportion as the dreaming perversity of men throws forth one delusive\nfancy after another, that the Church draws line after line to shut the\nintrusion out. If the creeds seem to enlarge as the centuries pass, it\nis not that they have more truth to give, but only more error to\nremove. The divine facts were conceived aright and conceived complete\nin the minds of Apostles and Evangelists, but they were not\ncontemplated then as _against_ the follies and contradictions opposed\nto them in later times; but as soon as the hour came for this\nantagonism to be felt, the infallible perception secured in perpetuity\nto the living hierarchy supplied the due verdict of rejection. To the\nCatholic, therefore, Christianity was made up and finished, its\ntreasury was full, in the first generation; its power of development\nis only the refusal of deviation; and its intellectual life is tame as\nthe story of some perfect hero, who does nothing but stand still and\nrepel temptations. The history of doctrines thus becomes a history of\nheresies; the primitive stock of tradition and Scripture must, on the\none hand, be maintained entire in the face of all possible exposures\nby critical research; and, on the other, remain in eternal barrenness\nand produce no more. Natural knowledge, whether of the world or of\nhumanity, may grow continually, but the new thoughts it may lead us to\nentertain of God are either _not_ new, or not true; and every\npretended enrichment of truth is nothing but evolution of falsehood.\nThis removal of all variety from religion, this expulsion of life and\nchange into the negative region of aberration and denial, eviscerates\nthe past of its devout interest, rests the study of it on contempt\ninstead of reverence for man; with all its pious air, it simply\nbetrays history with a kiss, and delivers it over for scribes to\nbuffet and chief priests to crucify. Short work is made in this way of\nany fresh witness, like the author of our book, who turns up\nunexpectedly from an early age. Does he speak in agreement with the\nhierarchical standards? He only flings another voice into the\n_consensus_ of obedient believers. Does he say anything at variance\nwith the _regula fidei_? Then have we only to see in what class of\nheretics he stands. His testimony is either superfluous or misleading.\n\nThe Protestant, of the approved English type, arrives, under guidance\nof a different thought, at the same flat and indifferent result.\nThough he gives a more subjective character to divine truth than the\nRoman Catholic, and brings both the want and the supply of it more\nwithin the attestation of consciousness, he puts its discovery equally\nbeyond the reach of our ruined faculties, and equally cuts it off from\nall relation to philosophy and the natural living exercise of reason\nand conscience. He further agrees that his foreign gift of revelation\nwas imported all at once, and all complete, into our world, within the\nApostolic age; that the conceptions of that time are an authoritative\nrule for all succeeding centuries; and that every newer doctrine is to\nbe regarded as a false accretion, to be flung off into the incompetent\nand barren spaces of human speculation. He denies, however, the\ntwofold vehicle of this precious gift; and, cancelling altogether the\noral tradition and indeterminate Christian consciousness of the early\nChurch, shuts up the whole contents of religion within the canonical\nScriptures. The guardianship of unwritten tradition being abolished,\nand the canon requiring no guardianship at all, the trust deposited\nwith the hierarchy disappears; and no permanent inspiration, no\nauthoritative judicial function, in matters of faith, remains.\nWhatever Holy Spirit continues in the Church is not a progressively\nteaching spirit, which can ever impart thoughts or experiences unknown\nto the first believers; but a personally comforting and animating\nspirit, whose highest climax of enlightenment is the exact\nreproduction of the primitive state of mind. The apprehension of\nDivine truth is thus reduced to an affair of verbal interpretation of\ndocuments; and though in this process there is room for the largest\nplay of subjective feeling, so that different minds, different\nnations, different ages, will unconsciously evolve very various\nresults; these are not to be regarded as possible Divine enrichments\nof the faith, but to be brought rigidly to the standard of the\nearliest Church, and disowned wherever they include what was absent\nthere. This view is less mischievous than the Roman Catholic, only\nbecause it is more inconsequent and confused. The canon which you take\nas sacred was selected and set in authority by the unwritten\nconsciousness and tradition which you reject as profane. The Church\nexisted before its records; expressed its life in ways spreading\nindefinitely beyond them; and neither was exempt from human elements\ntill they were finished, nor lost the Divine spirit when they were\ndone. So arbitrary a doctrine corrupts the beauty of Scripture, and\ndeadens the noblest interest of history. If the New Testament is to\nserve as an infallible standard, it is thus committed to perfect unity\nand self-consistency; and you are obliged to contend that the various\ntypes of doctrine found within its compass--the Messianic conceptions\nof Matthew and John, the \"Faith\" of Paul and James, the eucharistic\nconceptions of the first Evangelists and the last, the eschatology of\nthe Apocalypse and the Epistles--are only different sides of one and\nthe same belief, colored with the tints and shadings of several minds.\nHow utterly inadequate such an hypothesis is to the explanation of the\nScriptural phenomena, what a distorted and absurd representation it\ngives of the sacred writers, and their mode of thought, is best known\nto those who have honestly tried to deal with the fourth Gospel, for\ninstance, as historically the supplement of the others, and\ndogmatically of the Book of Revelation; to suppose the Logos-doctrine\ntacitly present in the speeches of Peter; to detect the pre-existence\nin Mark, or remove it from John; or to identify the Paraclete with the\ngifts of Pentecost. All feeling of living reality is lost from our\npicture of the Apostolic time, when its outlines are thus blurred, its\ncontrasts destroyed, its grouped figures effaced, and the whole melted\naway by the persevering drizzle of a watery criticism into a muddy\nglory round the place where Christ should be. If, moreover, we are to\nfind everything in the first age, then the second, and the third, and\nall others, must be worse, just in so far as they differ from it; and\nthe whole course of succeeding thought, the widening and deepening of\nthe Christian faith and feeling, the swelling of its stream by the\nlapse into it of Oriental Gnosis and Hellenic Platonism and the\nWestern Conscience, must be a ceaseless degeneracy. Thus to the\nBibliolater as to the Romanist, Divine truth _has no history among\nmen_, unless it be the history of decline, or of recovery purchased by\ndecline. He also will accordingly care nothing about what the people\nof Caius or Hippolytus thought. Is it in the Bible? If so, he knew it\nbefore. Is it not in the Bible? Then he has nothing to do with it but\nthrow it away. By a fitting retribution, this moping worship of the\nletter of a book and the creed of a generation brings it to pass that\nboth are lost to the mind in a dismal haze of ignorance and\nmisconception; and if the \"Evangelical\" believer could be transported\nsuddenly from Exeter Hall into the company of the twelve in Jerusalem,\nor the Proseucha which Paul enters on the banks of the Strymon, or the\nroom where the Agape is prepared at Rome, we are persuaded that he\nwould find a scene newer to his expectations than by any other\nmigration into a known time and place.\n\nBut now let us abolish this isolation from the rest of human existence\nof the _incunabula_ of our faith, and throw open that time to free\nrelation with the whole providence of humanity. Suppose Christianity\nto be the influence upon the world of a Divine Person,--in quality\ndivine, in quantity human,--whose Epiphany was determined at a crisis\nof ripe conditions for the rescue, the evolution, the spread of holy\nand sanctifying truth. What are those conditions? They consist mainly\nin the co-presence, within the embrace of one vast state, of two\nopposite races or types of men, both having a partial gift of divine\napprehension, and holding in charge an indispensable element of truth;\nboth with their spiritual life verging to exhaustion and capable of no\nseparate effort more; and each unconsciously pining away for want of\nthe complement of thought which the other only could supply. The\n_Hebrew_ brought his intense feeling of the Personality of God;\nconceiving this in so concentrated a form as to exclude the proper\nnotion of infinitude, and render Him only the most powerful Being in\nthe Universe, its Monarch,--wielding the creatures as his\npuppets,--acting historically upon its scenes as objective to Him, and\nby the annals of his past agency supplying to the Abrahamic family a\nreligion of archives and documents. The sovereignty of Jehovah raised\nhim to an immeasurable height above his creation; dwarfed all other\nexistence; placed him by _nature_ at a distance from men, and only by\n_condescension_ allowing of approximation. And hence his worshippers,\nin proportion as they adored his greatness, felt the littleness of all\nelse; acquired a temper towards their fellow-men, if not severe and\nscornful, at least not reverent and tender; and regarded them as\nseparate in kind from Him, mere dust on the balance or locusts in the\nfield. The religion of the _Hellenic_ race began at the other\nend,--from the midst of human life, its mysteries, its struggles, its\nnobleness, its mixture of heroic Free-will and awful Destiny; and\ntheir deepest reverence, their quickest recognition of the Divine, was\ndirected towards the soul of a man vindicating its grandeur, though it\nshould be against superhuman powers. In proportion as men were great,\nbeautiful, and good, did they appear to be as lesser gods, and earth\nand heaven to be filled with the same race. Thought, conscience,\nadmiration in the human mind were not personal accidents separately\noriginating in each individual; but the sympathetic response of our\ncommon intellect, standing in front of Nature, to the kindred life of\nthe Divine intellect behind Nature, and ever passing into expression\nthrough it. When this feeling of the Hellenic race became reflective,\nand organized itself into philosophy, it represented the universe as\nthe eternal assumption of form by the Divine thought, which we were\nenabled to read off by our essential identity of nature. Hence a whole\nseries of conceptions quite different from the Hebrew representations;\ninstead of Creation, Evolution of being; instead of Interposition\nfrom without, Incarnation operating from within; instead of Omnipotent\nWill, Universal Thought; assigning as the ideal of man's perfection,\nnot so much obedience to Law, as similitude of Mind to God; and\ntending predominantly not to strength in Morals, but to beauty in Art.\nThese two opposite tendencies had run their separate course, and\nexpended their proper history; and were talking wildly, as in the\napproaching delirium of death. But they are the two factors of all\nreligious truth: and to fuse them together, to make it impossible that\neither should perish or should remain alone, the Christ was given to\nthe world, so singularly balanced between them, that neither could\nresist his power, but both were drawn into it for the regeneration of\nmankind. In the accidents of his lot given to the one race, and only\nbaffling the visions of prophets to transcend them; in the essence of\nhis nature, so august and attractive to the other that the faith in\nIncarnation was irresistible; presented to the Hebrews by his mortal\nbirth, and snatched from them by his immortal; stopping by his\nholiness the mouth of Law, and carrying it up into the higher region\nof Faith and Love; in the Temple wishing the Temple gone, that there\nmight be open communion, Spirit with Spirit; translating sacrifice\ninto self-sacrifice;--he had every requisite for conciliating and\nblending the separated elements of truth which, for so many ages, had\nbeen converging towards him. But if this was the function\nprovidentially assigned to him, and for which the divine and human\nwere so blended in him, it is a function which could not be\naccomplished in a moment, in a generation, in a century. It is an\n_historical_ function, freely demanding time for its theatre; and as\nthe separate factors had occupied ages in attaining their ripeness for\ncombination, so must their fusion consume many a lifetime of\neffervescing thought, ere the homogeneous truth appeared. The words of\nChrist are not in this view the end in which Revelation terminates;\nbut the means given to us of knowing himself, contributions to the\npicture we form of his personality. Nor are the sentiments of his\nimmediate followers about his office and position in the scheme of\nProvidence anything more authoritative to us than the incipient\nattempts made, when his influence was fresh, to grasp the whole of his\nrelations while only a part was to be seen. The records of the great\ncrisis are no doubt of superlative value, as the vehicles by which\nalone we understand and feel its power; but their value is lost if\nthey are to dictate truth to our passive acceptance, instead of\nquickening our reason and conscience to find it: they stop in this way\nthe very development which they were to lead, and disappoint Christ of\nthe very work he came to achieve. Human elements were inevitably and\nfully present in the first age and its Scriptures, as in every other;\nand the transitory ingredients they have left, it is a duty to detach\nfrom the eternal truth. And as conditions of finite imperfection\ncannot be banished from the central era, neither can the guidance of\nthe Infinite Spirit be denied, whether among the Hebrew, the Hellenic,\nor the Christian people, in the ages before and after. In that new\ndevelopment of human consciousness and knowledge in regard to God,\nwhich we call Christianity, _all_ the requisite conditions--viz. the\nfactors taken up, the Person who blends them, and the continuous\nproduct they evolve--include Divine Inspiration as well as Human\nReflection,--the living presence and communion of the Eternal with the\nTransitory Mind, of the perfectly Good with the good in the Imperfect.\nTo disengage the one from the other, to treasure up the true and holy\nthat is born of God, and let fall the false and wrong that is infused\nby man, is possible only to Reason and Conscience, is indeed the\nperpetual work in which they live; the denial of which is not merely\nAtheism, but Devil-worship,--not the bare negation, but the positive\nreversal, of religion,--the virtual affirmation that God indeed\n_exists_, but exists as _Un_-reason and _Un_-good. No mechanical, no\nchronological separation can be effected of the Divine from the Human,\nthe Revealed from the Unrevealed, in faith; there is no person, no\nbook, no age, no Church, in which both do not meet, and require to be\ndisentangled the one from the other; but the perseverance of God's\nliving and self-harmonious Spirit throughout the discordant errors of\ndying generations enables the men most apt and faithful to his voice\nto know more and more what his reality is, and drop the semblances by\nwhich it is disguised. The effect of this view on our estimate of\necclesiastical literature is evident. As, according to it, the\nApostolic period is not exempted from critical judgment, so neither\nare succeeding times to be without their claim on religious reverence.\nThe canonical books of the New Testament fall back into the general\nmass of literature recording the earliest knowledge and consciousness\nof the disciples, neither detached, as a mysterious whole, from other\nproductions of their time, nor excluding the greatest diversities of\nvalue among themselves. They exhibit the first struggling efforts--not\nalways concurrent in their direction--of an awakening spiritual life,\nto interpret a recent Divine manifestation, and to solve by it the\nproblem of the world's Providence. Their very freshness and proximity\nto the great figure of Christ was by no means an unmixed advantage to\nthese efforts; and they were not so complete and successful as to\nsupersede their continuance in the next and following generations,\nwhich lay under no incompetency for their prosecution, and are as\nlikely, so far as antecedent probability goes, to have enriched and\nimproved, as to have impoverished and spoiled, the earlier doctrine of\nChrist's relation to God and to mankind. The chasm thus disappears\nbetween the Apostolic age and its successor; the products of the first\nare not to be accepted simply because they are there, nor those of the\nsecond rejected because they are absent from the first; nor is\neverything to be admitted on showing that it stands in both, and even\nhad a tenure long enough to become the prescriptive occupant of the\nChurch. The Catholic is right in clinging to the continuous thread of\nDivine Inspiration binding the centuries of Christendom together; and\nin maintaining that the expression of true doctrine grows fuller with\ntime. He is wrong in making the Spirit over to an hierarchical\ncorporation; and in treating the ostensible growth of doctrine as the\nmere negation of heresies. The Protestant is right in rescuing from\nthe haze of uncertain tradition the real historical ground of his\nreligion, and setting it in the focus of an intense reverence; and in\nrejecting whatever cannot be adjusted with the clear facts and\nessential Spirit of that primitive Gospel. He is wrong in his\ninsulation of that time as a sole authoritative age of golden days, in\nwhich the faith had neither error nor defect, and from which it must\nbe copied, with daguerreotype exactitude, into every disciple's mind.\nKeep the positive elements, destroy the negative limitations of both\nthese systems, and the true conception of Christianity emerges. As a\nsystem of self-conscious doctrine, it is a religious Philosophy,\nstarting from the historical appearance of Christ as an expression of\nGod in human life, and always detained around this one object as its\ncentre; and in its development consulting not the idiosyncrasies and\nconceits of private and personal reflection, but the devout\nconsciousness and spiritual _consensus_ of all Christian ages and all\nholy men. All religion is the product of an action of the Infinite\nmind upon the finite: in the _Christian_ religion that action takes\nplace upon souls engaged in the contemplation of Christ as the\nmanifestation of God's moral nature. This given object remaining the\nsame, there is room for indefinite expansion and variety; and every\ndeveloped form is to be tried, not by its date, but by the tests of\ntruth relevant to religious philosophy.\n\nHow far M. Bunsen would recognize his own doctrine in this exposition\nwe cannot say; but without intending in the least to make him\nresponsible for it, we think it does not essentially deviate from his\nscheme of thought. The philosophical aphorisms in which he has\nembodied his speculative faith follow an order which we should have\nspoiled, had we, for our present purpose, so brought them together as\nto make them speak for themselves. And though they display the same\nastonishing command of our language, in which the author never fails,\nthe cast of the thoughts is so Teutonic, that few English readers, it\nis to be feared, will appreciate their depth and richness. The\ncomplaint, which we have heard and seen, that they are wholly\nunintelligible, is indeed purely ridiculous, except that it sadly\nillustrates the extent to which reflection, and even feeling, on such\nsubjects has ceased in England. M. Bunsen, we can assure our readers,\nknows what he means, and lucidly states what he means; and those who\nmiss his meaning have for the most part no slight loss. The following\nsentences, which the greatest sufferer from philosophobia may drink in\nwithout convulsions, will explain his idea of Revelation, in its\nbearing upon the use of written records. The mere \"Natural Religion\"\nof the Deist, he observes, was--\n\n\"The negative reaction against the equally untenable, unphilosophical,\nand irrational notion, that revelation was nothing but an external\nhistorical act. Such a notion entirely loses sight of the infinite or\neternal factor of revelation, founded both in the nature of the\ninfinite and that of the finite mind, of God and man.\n\n\"This heterodox notion became still more obnoxious, by its imagining\nsomething higher in the manifestation of God's will and being than the\nhuman mind, which is the divinely-appointed organ of divine\nmanifestation, and in a double manner; ideally in mankind, as object,\nhistorically in the individual man, as instrument.\n\n\"The notion of a merely historical revelation by written records is as\nunhistorical as it is unintellectual and materialistic. It necessarily\nleads to untruth in philosophy, to unreality in religious thought, and\nto Fetichism in worship. It misunderstands the process necessarily\nimplied in every historical representation. The form of expressing the\nmanifestation of God in the mind, as if God was himself using human\nspeech to man, and was thus himself finite and a man, is a form\ninherent in the nature of human thought as embodied in language, its\nown rational expression. It was originally never meant to be\nunderstood materialistically, because the religious consciousness\nwhich produced it was essentially spiritual; and, indeed, it can only\nbe thus misunderstood by those who make it a rule and criterion of\nfaith, never to connect any thought whatever with what they are\nexpected to believe as divinely true.\n\n\"Every religion is positive. It is, therefore, justly called a\nreligion '_made manifest_' (offenbart), or, as the English term has\nit, _revealed_; that is to say, it supposes an action of the infinite\nmind, or God, upon the finite mind, or man, by which God, in his\nrelation to man, becomes manifest or visible. This can be mediate,\nthrough the manifestation of God in the Universe of Nature; or a\ndirect, immediate action, through the religious consciousness.\n\n\"This second action is called _revealed_, in the strictest sense. The\nmore a religion manifests of the real substance and nature of God, and\nof his relation to the universe and to man, the more it deserves the\nname of a divine manifestation, or of Revelation. But no religion\nwhich exists could exist without something of truth, revealed to man,\nthrough the creation, and through his mind.\n\n\"Such a direct communication of the Divine mind as is called\nRevelation has necessarily two factors, which are unitedly working in\nproducing it. The one is the infinite factor, or the direct\nmanifestation of eternal truth to the mind, by the power which that\nmind has of perceiving it; for human perception is the correlate of\ndivine manifestation. There could be no revelation of God if there was\nnot the corresponding faculty in the human mind to receive it, as\nthere is no manifestation of light where there is no eye to see it.\n\n\"This infinite factor is, of course, not historical; it is inherent in\nevery individual soul, only with an immense difference in the degree.\n\n\"The action of the Infinite upon the mind, is _the_ miracle of history\nand of religion, equal to the miracle of creation.\n\n\"Miracle, in its highest sense, is therefore essentially and\nundoubtedly an operation of the Divine mind upon the human mind. By\nthat action the human mind becomes inspired with a new life, which\ncannot be explained by any precedent of the selfish (natural) life,\nbut is its absolute contrary. This miracle requires no proof; the\nexistence and action of religious life is its proof, as the world is\nthe proof of creation.\n\n\"The second factor of revelation is the finite or external. This\nmeans of divine manifestation is, in the first place, a universal one,\nthe Universe or Nature. But, in a more special sense, it is a\nhistorical manifestation of divine truth through the life and teaching\nof higher minds among men. These men of God are eminent individuals,\nwho communicate something of eternal truth to their brethren; and, as\nfar as they themselves are true, they have in them the conviction,\nthat what they say and teach of things divine is an objective truth.\nThey therefore firmly believe that it is independent of their\nindividual personal opinion and impression, and will last, and not\nperish, as their personal existence upon earth must.\n\n\"The difference between Christ and other men of God is analogous to\nthat between the manifestation of a part, and of the totality and\nsubstance, of the divine mind.\"--Vol. II. p. 60, _seq._\n\nThe newly-found work, like other productions of the same period, can\nhave only a disturbing interest for the Roman Catholic and Orthodox\nProtestant. For, in conjunction with previous evidence, it shows that\nthe unbroken unity of teaching is altogether a fiction; that what\nafterwards became heresy was, in the latter part of the second\ncentury, held in the church of the primacy itself, and by successors\nof St. Peter; that the clergy of Rome, so far from owning the\napostolic authority of their chief, could resist him as heterodox; and\nthat the contents of the Catholic system, far from appearing as an\ninvariable whole from the first, were a gradual synthesis of elements\nflowing in from new channels of influence brought into connection with\nthe faith; and as against the approved type of Protestant, it shows\nthat his favorite scheme of dogma was still in a very unripe state,\nand that further back it had been still more so; so that if he binds\nhimself to the earliest creed, he may probably have to accept a\nprofession which he hardly regards as Christian at all. But from the\nthird point of view, which assumes that development is an inherent\nnecessity in a revelation, and may add to its truth, instead of\nsubtracting from it, the monuments of Christian literature from the\nsecondary period have a positive interest, free from all uneasiness\nand alarm. They arrest for us, in the midst, the advance of\ntheological belief towards the form ultimately recognized in the\nChurch, and expressed in the established creeds; they render visible\nthe beautiful features and expanded look of the faith, when its Judaic\nblood had been cooled by the waters of an Hellenic baptism; and though\nthey leave many undetermined problems as to the successive steps by\nwhich the original Hebrew type of the Gospel in Jerusalem was\nmetamorphosed into the Nicene and hierarchical Christianity, they fix\nsome intermediate points, and make us profoundly conscious of the\ngreatness of the change.\n\nThe author of the \"Philosophumena,\" for instance, would be stopped at\nthe threshold of every sect in our own country, and excluded as\nheterodox. He crosses the lines of our theological definitions, and\ntrespasses on forbidden ground, in every possible doctrinal direction.\nCardinal Wiseman would have nothing to say to him; for he is\ninsubordinate to the \"Vicar of Christ,\" and profanely insists that a\npope may be deposed by his own council of presbyters. The Bishop of\nExeter would refuse him institution; for his Trinity is imperfect, and\nhe allows no Personality to the Holy Ghost. The Archbishop of Dublin\nmight probably think him a little hard upon Sabellius; but, if he\nwould quietly sign the Articles, (which, however, he could by no means\ndo,) might abstain from retaliation, and let him pass. At Manchester,\nCanon Stowell would keep him in hot water for his respectable opinion\nof human nature, and his lofty doctrine of free-will. In Edinburgh,\nDr. Candlish would not listen to a man who had nothing to say of\nreliance on the imputed merits of Christ. The sapient board at New\nCollege, St. John's Wood, would expel him for his loose notions of\nInspiration. And the Unitarians would find him too transcendental,\nmake no common sense out of his notions of Incarnation, and recommend\nhim to try Germany. This fact, that a bishop of the second and third\ncenturies would be ecclesiastically not a stranger only, but an\noutcast among us, is most startling; and ought surely to open the eyes\nof modern Christians to the false and dangerous position into which\ntheir churches have been brought by narrow-heartedness and\ninsincerity. It will not be M. Bunsen's fault if our Churchmen remain\ninsensible to the national peril and disgrace of maintaining\nunreformed a system long known to have no heart of modern reality, and\nnow seen to have as little ground of ancient authority. Again and\nagain he raises his voice of earnest and affectionate warning. As a\nforeigner domesticated among us, as a scholar of wide historical view,\nas a philosophical statesman who, amid the diplomacy of the hour,\ndescends to the springs of perennial life in nations, as a Christian\nwho profoundly trusts the reality of religion, and cannot be dazzled\nby the pretence, he sees, with a rare clearness and breadth, both the\ncapabilities and the dangers of our social and spiritual condition. He\nsees that God has given to the English people a moral massiveness and\nveracity of character which presents the grandest basis of noble\nfaith; while learned selfishness and aristocratic apathy uphold in the\nChurch creeds which only stupidity can sign without mental\nreservations,--a Liturgy that catches the scruple of the intellectual\nwithout touching the enthusiasm of the popular heart,--a laity without\nfunction,--a clergy without unity,--and a hierarchy without power. He\nsees that our insular position has imparted to us a distinctive\nnationality of feeling, supplying copious elements for coalescence in\na common religion; while obstinate conservatism has permitted our\nChristianity to become our great divisive power, and to disintegrate\nus through and through. He respects our free institutions, which\nsustain the health of our political life; but beside them he finds an\necclesiastical system either imposed by a dead and inflexible\nnecessity, or left unguided to a whimsical voluntaryism, which\nseparates the combinations of faith from the relations of\nneighborhood, of municipality, of country. With noble and\nrichly-endowed universities at the exclusive disposal of the Church,\nhe finds the theological and philosophical sciences so shamefully\nneglected, that Christian faith notoriously does not hold its\nintellectual ground, and in its retreat does nothing to reach a\nfirmer position; but only protests its resolution to stand still, and\nraise a din against the critic or metaphysic host that drives it back.\nIs there no one in this great and honest country that has trust enough\nin God and truth, foresight enough of ruin from falsehood and\npretence, to lay the first hand to the work of renovation? Is\nstatesmanship so infected with negligent contempt of mankind, that no\nhigh-minded politician can be found to care for the highest discipline\nof the people, and reorganize the institutions in which their\nconscience, their reason, their upward aspirations, should find life?\nHas the Church no prophet with faith enough to fling aside creed and\ncollege, and fire within him to burn away medi\u00e6val pedantries, and\ndemand an altar of veracity, that may bring us together for common\nwork and \"common prayer\"? Or is it to be left to the _strong men_,\nexulting in their strength, and storming with the furor of honest\ndiscontent, to settle these matters with the sledge-hammer of their\nindignation? Miserable hypocrisy! to open the lips and lift the eyes\nto heaven, while beckoning with the finger of apathy to these pioneers\nof Necessity! Would that some might be found to lay to heart our\nauthor's warning and counsel in the following sentences:--\n\n\"While we exclude all suggestions of despair, as being equally\nunworthy of a man and of a Christian, we establish two safe\nprinciples. The first is, that, in all congregational and\necclesiastical institutions, Christian freedom, within limits\nconformable to Scripture, constitutes the first requisite for a vital\nrestoration. The second fundamental principle is, that every Church\nmust hold fast what she already possesses, in so far as it presents\nitself to her consciousness as true and efficacious. In virtue of the\nfirst condition, she will combine Reason and Scripture in due\nproportions; by virtue of the second, she will distinguish between\nSpirit and Letter, between Idea and Form. No external clerical forms\nand medi\u00e6val reflexes of bygone social and intellectual conditions can\nsave us, nor can sectarian schisms and isolation from national life.\nNeither can learned speculations, and still less the incomparably more\narrogant dreams of the unlearned. Scientific consciousness must dive\ninto real life, and refresh itself in the feelings of the people, and\nthat no one will be able to do without having made himself thoroughly\nconversant with the sufferings and the sorrows of the lowest classes\nof society. For out of the feeling of these sufferings and sorrows, as\nbeing to a great degree the most extensive and most deep-seated\nproduct of evil,--that is, of selfishness,--arose, eighteen hundred\nyears ago, the divine birth of Christianity. The new birth, however,\nrequires new pangs of labor, and not only on the part of individuals,\nbut of the whole nation, in so far as she bears within her the germs\nof future life, and possesses the strength to bring forth. Every\nnation must set about the work herself, not, indeed, as her own\nespecial exclusive concern, but as the interest of all mankind. Every\npeople has the vocation to coin for itself the divine form of\nHumanity, in the Church as well as in the State; its life depends on\nthis being done, not its reputation merely; it is the condition of\nexistence, not merely of prosperity.\n\n\"Is it not time, in truth, to withdraw the veil from our misery? to\npoint to the clouds which rise from all quarters, to the noxious vapors\nwhich have already well-nigh suffocated us? to tear off the mask from\nhypocrisy, and destroy that sham which is undermining all real ground\nbeneath our feet? to point out the dangers which surround, nay, threaten\nalready to engulf us? Is the state of things satisfactory in a Christian\nsense, where so much that is unchristian predominates, and where\nChristianity has scarcely begun here and there to penetrate the surface\nof the common life? Shall we be satisfied with the increased outward\nrespect paid to Christianity and the Church? Shall we take it as a sign\nof renewed life, that the names of God and Christ have become the\nfashion, and are used as a party badge? Can a society be said to be in a\nhealthy condition, in which material and selfish interests in\nindividuals, as well as in the masses, gain every day more and more the\nupper hand? in which so many thinking and educated men are attached to\nChristianity only by outward forms, maintained either by despotic power,\nor by a not less despotic, half-superstitious, half-hypocritical\ncustom? when so many churches are empty, and satisfy but few, or display\nmore and more outward ceremonials and vicarious rites? when a godless\nschism has sprung up between spirit and form, or has even been preached\nup as a means of rescue? when gross ignorance or confused knowledge,\ncold indifference or the fanaticism of superstition, prevails as to the\nunderstanding of Holy Scripture, as to the history, nay, the fundamental\nideas of Christianity? when force invokes religion in order to command,\nand demagogues appeal to the religious element in order to destroy?\nwhen, after all their severe chastisements and bloody lessons, most\nstatesmen base their wisdom only on the contempt of mankind? and when\nthe prophets of the people preach a liberty, the basis of which is\nselfishness, the object libertinism, and the wages are vice? And this in\nan age the events of which show more and more fatal symptoms, and in\nwhich a cry of ardent longing pervades the people, re-echoed by a\nthousand voices!\"--III. XV.\n\nSorry, however, as we should be to see our Roman presbyter\ndisconsolately wandering from fold to fold in modern England, and\ndismissed as a black sheep from all, we should not like to find him\nmetamorphosed into chief shepherd either, and invested with the\nguidance of our ecclesiastical affairs. Though he is above imitating\nthe feeble railing of Iren\u00e6us at the heresies, he deals with them in\nthe true clerical style; often missing their real meaning, he does not\nspare them his bad word; and fancies he has killed them before he has\neven caught them. He has an evident relish also for a tale of scandal,\nas a make-weight against a theological opponent. In the \"Little\nLabyrinth,\" he had told us a story about a Unitarian minister, who,\nfor accepting his schismatical office, had been horsewhipped by angels\nall night; so that he crawled in the morning to the metropolitan, and\ngave in his penitential recantation. And now, in the larger work, the\nauthor flies at higher game, and makes out that Pope Callistus was an\nincorrigible scamp; originally a slave in the household of a wealthy\nChristian master, Carpophorus, whose confidence he abused in every\npossible way. First, having been intrusted with the management of a\nbank in the _Piscina publica_, he swindled and ruined the depositors,\nand decamped, with the intention of sailing from Portus, but was found\non board ship; and, though he jumped into the sea to avoid capture,\nwas picked up, and condemned by his master to the hand-mill. Next,\nbeing allowed to go out, on the plea of collecting some debts which\nwould enable him to pay a dividend to the depositors, he created a\nriot in a Jews' synagogue, and, being brought before the prefect, was\nsentenced to be flogged and transported to Sardinia. Thence he escaped\nby passing himself off among a number of Christians, released from\ntheir exile through the influence of the Emperor's concubine, Marcia,\nand on the recommendation of Victor, the Pope. As he was not included\nin the list of pardons, he no sooner made his appearance in Rome than\nhis master sent him off to live on a monthly allowance at Antium. On\nthe death of Carpophorus, he seems to have attained his freedom by\nbequest; and his fertility of resource having made him useful to the\nnew Pope Zephyrinus, he acquired influence enough to succeed him in\nthe Primacy. We must confess that the evident _gusto_ with which our\npresbyter tells this scandal, the _animus_ with which he accuses\nZephyrinus also of stupidity and venality, and the predominance in his\nnarrative of theological antipathy over moral disgust, leave a painful\nimpression on the reader respecting the spirit then at work in the\nApostolic See. And though his scheme of belief, especially in relation\nto the person of Christ, was more rational than the definitions of\nmore modern creeds, yet we fear that he would be not less nice about\nits shape, and intolerant of those who move about in freer folds of\nthought, than a divine of the Canterbury cloisters or the Edinburgh\nplatform. His quarrel with the two popes whom he abuses shows pretty\nclearly the stage of development which the Christian theology had then\nreached. On this matter we must say a few words.\n\nWhatever may have been the precise order of combination which brought\nthe Hebrew and Hellenic ideas of God into union, there can be no\ndoubt about the two _termini_ of the process. It started from the\nmonarchical conception of Jehovah, as a Unity without plurality; and\nit issued in the Athanasian Trinity, with its three hypostases in one\nessence. Of these, the Father expressed the Absolute existence, the\nSon the Objective manifestation, the Holy Spirit the Subjective\nrevelation of God. In the presbyter's creed, the third term was not\nyet incorporated, but still floated freely, diffused and impersonal.\nLeaving this out of view, we may observe, in the remaining part of the\ndoctrine, two principal difficulties to be surmounted, arising from\nthe double medium of divine objective manifestation,--Nature, always\nproceeding,--and Christ, historically transient. The first problem is,\nHow to pass at all out of the Infinite existence into Finite\nphenomena, and conceive the relation between the Father and the Son;\nthe second, How to pass from Eternal manifestation through all\nphenomena into temporary appearance in an Individual, so as to\nconceive the relation between the Son and the Galilean Christ. Thus,\nexcluding all reference to the Holy Spirit, there were, in fact,\n_four_ objects of thought, whose relations to one another were to be\nadjusted; viz. the Father, the Son evolving all things, the Christ or\ndivine individualization in the Gospel, and Jesus of Nazareth, the\nhuman being with whose life this individualization concurred. Among\nall these there were, so to speak, two clearly distinct Wills to\ndispose of; that of the man Jesus at the lowest extremity, and that of\nthe Supreme God, which the Jew, at least, would fix at the upper.\nThese two Wills act, in the whole development of doctrine on this\nsubject, as the secret centres of Personality; and the remaining\nelements obtain or miss a hypostatic character according as they are\ndrawn or not into coalescence with the one or the other. The\nvolitional point of the Divine Agency being once determined, it may be\nregarded as enclosed between the _Thought_, or intellectual essence\nout of which it comes, and the _Execution_ by which it is realized; or\nit may be left undistinguished from these, and may be made to coincide\nwith either. According to these variable conditions arise the several\nmodes of doctrine in reference to the Divine element in God's\nObjective manifestation. The differences, for instance, between our\npresbyter's doctrine and Origen's, will be found to depend on the\ndifferent points which they seize as the seat of divine volition, and\nthe germ of their logical development. Our author, exemplifying the\nHebrew tendency, seeks his initiative up at the fountain-head, and\nputs himself back before the first act of creation; he starts from the\nOne God, with whom nothing was co-present, and fixes in Him the seat\nof the primeval Will. There, however, it would remain, a mere\npotentiality, did not the Eternal Mind, by reflection in itself, pass\ninto self-consciousness, and give objectivity to its own thought. This\nprimary expression of his essence, in which it enters into relation,\nbut relation only to itself, is the _Logos_, or _Son_ of God, the\nagent in the production of all things. The potentiality is thus\nreserved to the Father; the effectuation is given to the Son; who,\ncoming in at a point lower down than the seat of Will, and simply\nbridging over the interval that leads to accomplishment, is felt\nwithout the essential condition of a numerically distinct subsistence;\nand has either the instrumental and subordinate personality of a\ndependent being, or is imperfectly hypostatized.[41] In this\nimpersonal character does the Logos manifest the Divine thought in the\nvisible universe; in the minds of godly men, which are the source of\nlaw; in the glance of prophets, which catches and interprets the\ndivine significance of all times; and first assumes a full personality\nin the Incarnation. Having left the primary Will behind in the\nFather's essence, the Logos remains but an inchoate hypostasis, till\nalighting, in the human nature, on another centre of volition. As if\nour author were half conscious, in reaching this point, of relief from\nan antecedent uneasiness, he now holds fast to the personality which\nhas been realized, represents it as not dissolved by the death on the\ncross, but taken up into heaven, and abiding for ever. It is, in this\nview, the two extreme terms that supply the hypostatizing power; of\nthe others, the Logos has no personality but by looking back to the\nFather; nor the Christ, but by going forward to the Son of Mary. This\nshows the yet powerful influence of the Judaic Monarchianism, and the\nembarrassment of a mind, setting out from that type of faith, to\nprovide any plurality within the essence of God. Origen, on the other\nhand, yielded to the Hellenic feeling, and, instead of going back to\nany absolute commencement, looked for his Divine centre and\nstarting-point further down; and took thence whatever upward glance\nwas needful to complete his view. As the Greek reverence was not\ntouched but by the Divine embodied in concrete life and form, so the\nAlexandrine catechist instinctively fixed upon the SON, the objective\nThought of God, proceeding, not once upon a time or ever _first_, but\n_eternally_, from Him, as the initiative position for his doctrine.\nHere was placed the clearest and intensest focus of Will; and only in\nthis ever-evolving efficient were the full conditions of personality\nrealized. The Father was conceived more pantheistically, as the\nuniversal \u03bd\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2, the intellectual background, whence issued the acting\nnature of the Son. In meditating on them in their conjunction, Origen\nwould think of the relation between _thought_ and _volition_; our\nauthor, of that between _volition_ and _execution_. Both doctrines\nshow the imperfect fusion of Hebrew and Hellenic elements, and\nillustrate the characteristic effect of an excessive proportion of\neach. Where the Hebrew element prevails, the personality of the Son is\nendangered; where the Hellenic, the personality of the Father. Even\nour presbyter's doctrine of the Son, however, gave too strong an\nimpersonation to Him for the party in Rome who sided with Zephyrinus\nand Callistus. These popes accused him, it seems, of being a\n_Ditheist_; and themselves maintained that the terms Father and Son\ndenoted only different sides and relations of one and the same\nBeing,--nay, not only of the same Being, but of the same \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c9\u03c0\u03bf\u03bd; and\nthat the spirit that dwelt in Christ was the Father, of whom all\nthings are full. For this opinion the two popes are angrily dealt with\nby our author, and charged with being half Sabellian, half\nhumanitarian. His rancor justifies the suspicion, that, though he\nrepresents the party which triumphed at Rome, his opponents had been\nnumerous and powerful, as, indeed, their election to the primacy would\nof itself show, and that even his own imperfect dogma was\nsuperinduced, not without a protracted struggle, upon an earlier faith\nyet remote from the Nicene standard.\n\nAnd this brings us at once to a question of historical research,\nwhich, though far too intricate and extensive to be discussed here, we\nfeel bound to notice, as far as it is affected by the newly discovered\nwork. How long did it take for the Christian faith to assume the\nleading features of its orthodox and catholic form, and especially to\nwork itself clear of Judaism? It is an acknowledged fact, that the\nearliest disciples, including at the lowest estimate all the converts\nof the first seven years from the ascension, not only were born\nHebrews, but did not regard their baptism as in any way withdrawing\nthem from the pale of their national religion; that, on the contrary,\nthey claimed to be the only true Jews, differing from others simply by\ntheir belief in a personally appointed, instead of a vaguely promised\nMessiah; that they aimed at no more than to bring over their own race\nto this conviction, and persuade them that the national destinies were\nabout to be consummated, and, so far from relaxing the obligations of\ntheir Law, adhered with peculiar rigor to its ritual and its\nexclusiveness. So long as none but the twelve Apostles had charge of\nits diffusion, Christianity was only a particular mode of Judaism, and\nits whole discussion a \u03b6\u03b7\u03c4\u03b7\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2 \u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u0399\u03bf\u03c5\u03b4\u03b1\u03b9\u03c9\u03bd. It is further admitted,\nthat the first inroad upon this narrowness was made by St. Paul, who\ninsisted on the universality of Christ's function, and the abrogation\nof the Mosaic Law in favor of inward faith, as the condition of union\nwith God. Nor, again, is it denied that this freer view met with great\nresistance, and that its conflict with the other, apparent throughout\nthe Pauline Epistles, formed the most animating feature of the\nApostolic age. During that period, two distinct parties, and two\nseparate lines of development and growth, may be traced; one following\nout in morals the _legal_ idea into asceticism, voluntary poverty, and\nphysical purity, and in faith the _monarchian_ idea into theocratic\nand millenarian expectations; the other, proceeding from the notion of\n_faith_ to substitute an ideal Christ for the historical, a new\nreligion for an old law, the free embrace of divine reconciliation for\nthe anxious strain of self-mortifying obedience. But how long did this\nstruggle and separation continue? According to the prevalent belief,\nit was all over in a few years; and, by the happy harmony and\nconcurrence of the Apostles, was determined in favor of the generous\nPauline doctrine; so that St. John lived to see the Hebrew Christians\nsink into a mere Ebionitish sect outside the pale, and their stiff\nUnitarian theology disowned in favor of the higher teachings of his\nGospel. Against this assumption of so easy a victory over the Jewish\ntendency, several striking testimonies have often been urged.\nTertullian, in a well-known passage of his treatise against Praxeas,\ndescribes the dislike with which the unlearned majority of believers\nregard the Trinitarian distinctions in the Godhead, and the zeal with\nwhich they cry out for holding to \"the Monarchy.\"[42] In the time of\nPope Zephyrinus, as we learn from Eusebius, a body of Unitarians in\nRome, followers of Artemon, defended their doctrine by the\nconservative plea of antiquity and general consent; affirming that it\nwas no other than the uninterrupted creed of the Roman Church down to\nthe time of Victor, the preceding pope; and that the higher doctrine\nof the Person of Christ was quite a recent innovation.[43] Nor are we\nwithout ecclesiastical literature, of even a later date, that by its\ntheological tone gives witness to the same effect. The \"Clementine\nRecognitions,\" written somewhere between 212 and 230, occupy a\ndogmatic position, higher indeed than the disciples of Artemon, but\nonly in the direction of Arius, and, to save the Unity of God, deny\nthe Deity of Christ.[44] Relying on such evidence as this, Priestley,\nin his \"History of Early Opinions,\" and his controversy with Bishop\nHorsley, maintained that the creed of the Church for the first two\ncenturies was Unitarian. But this position was attended with many\ndifficulties, so long as the present canonical Scriptures were allowed\nto have been in the hands of the Christians of that period, and\nrecognized as authorities; for the narratives of the miraculous\nconception, the writings of Paul, and the Gospel of John, are\nirreconcilable with the schemes of belief attributed to the early\nUnitarians. Moreover, if for two centuries the Church had interpreted\nits authoritative documents in one way, and formed on this its\nservices and expositions, it is not easy to conceive the rapid\nrevolution into another. During a period of free and floating\ntradition, there is manifest room for the growth of essentially\ndifferent modes of faith; but after the reception of a definite set of\nsacred books, the scope for change is much contracted. To treat the\ndoctrine of the Logos as an innovation, yet ascribe the fourth Gospel\nto the beloved disciple; to suppose that justification by works was\nthe generally received notion among people who guided themselves by\nthe authority of Paul,--involves us in irremediable contradictions.\nAvoiding these at least, possibly not without the risk of others, the\ncelebrated theologians of T\u00fcbingen have maintained a bolder thesis\nthan that of Priestley, including it indeed, but with it also a vast\ndeal more. Their theory runs as follows. The opposition which St.\nPaul's teaching excited, and of which his letters preserve so many\ntraces, was neither so insignificant nor so short-lived as is commonly\nsupposed; but was encouraged and led by the other Apostles, especially\nJames and John and Peter, who never heartily recognized the volunteer\nApostle; and was so completely successful, that he died without having\nmade any considerable impression on the Judaic Christianity sanctioned\nfrom Jerusalem. Accordingly, the earliest Christian literature was\nEbionitish; and no production was in higher esteem than the \"Gospel\nof the Hebrews,\" which, after being long current, with several\nvariations of form, at last settled down into our Gospel of Matthew.\nIn almost all the writings known to us, even in Roman circles of the\nsecond century,--the Shepherd of Hermas, the Memorials of Hegesippus,\nthe works of Justin,--some character or other of Ebionitism is\npresent,--millenarian doctrine, admiration of celibacy and of\nabstinence from meat and wine, denunciation of riches, emphatic\nassertion of the _Messiahship_ of Jesus, and treatment of the\nmiraculous conception as at least an open question. The labors of\nPaul, however, had left a seed which had been buried, but not killed;\nand from the first, a small party had cherished his freer principles,\nand sought to win acceptance for them; and as the progress of time\nincreased the proportion of provincial and Gentile converts, and the\nJewish wars of Titus and Hadrian destroyed the possibility of Mosaic\nobedience and the reasonableness of Hebrew hopes, the Pauline element\nrose in magnitude and importance. Thus the two courses of opposite\ndevelopment ran parallel with each other, and gradually found their\ninterest in mutual recognition and concession. Hence, a series of\nwritings proceeding from either side, first of conciliatory\napproximation only, next of complete neutrality and equipoise, in\nwhich sometimes the figures of Peter and Paul themselves are presented\nwith studiously balanced honor, at others their characteristic ideas\nare adjusted by compromise. The Clementine Homilies, the Apostolic\nConstitutions, the Epistle of James, the Second Epistle of Clement,\nthe Gospel of Mark, the Recognitions, the Second Epistle of Peter,\nconstitute the series proceeding from the Ebionitish side; while from\nthe Pauline came the First Epistle of Peter, the Preaching of Peter,\nthe writings of Luke, the First Epistle of Clement, the Epistle to the\nPhilippians, the Pastoral Epistles, Polycarp's, and the Ignatians.\nThese productions, however, springing from the practical instinct of\nthe West, deal with the ecclesiastical more than with the doctrinal\nphase of antagonism between the two directions; and end with\nestablishing in Rome a Catholic Church, founded on the united\nsepulchres of Peter and Paul, and combining the sacerdotalism of the\nOld Testament with the universality of the New Gentile Gospel.\nMeanwhile, a similar course, with local modifications, was run by the\nChurch of Asia Minor. Rome, with its political aptitude, having taken\nin hand the questions of discipline and organization, the speculative\ngenius of the Asiatic Greek addressed itself simultaneously to the\ndevelopment and determination of doctrine. Here the Epistle to the\nGalatians marks, as a starting-point, the same original struggle\nbetween the contrasted elements which the Epistle to the Romans\nbetrays in Italy; while the Gospel of John closes the dogmatic strife\nof development with an accepted Trinity for faith, just as the\nIgnatian Epistles wind up the contests of the West with a recognized\nhierarchy for government. And between these extremes the East presents\nto us, first, the intensely Judaical Apocalypse; next, with increasing\nreaction in the Pauline direction, the rudiments of the Logos idea in\nthe Epistles to the Hebrews, Colossians, and Ephesians; and as\nMontanism, in the midst of which these arose, had already made\nfamiliar the conception of the Paraclete, all the conditions were\npresent for combination into the Johannine doctrine of the Trinity;\nand then it was, in the second quarter of the second century, that the\nfourth Gospel appeared. The speculative theology thus native to Lesser\nAsia was adopted for shelter and growth by the kindred Hellenism of\nEgypt, and gave rise to the school of Alexandria. In the whole of this\ntheory great use is made of Montanism: it spans, as it were, the\ninterval between the parallel movements of Italy and Asia; and is the\ncommon medium of thought in which they both take place. Singularly\nuniting in itself the rigor, the narrowness, the ascetic superstitions\nof its Hebrew basis, with a Phrygian prophetic enthusiasm and an\nHellenic theosophy, it imported the latter into the doctrine, the\nformer into the discipline, of the Church. The Roman Catholic system\nbetrays its Jewish or Montanist origin in its legalism, its penances,\nits celibacy, its monachism, its ecstatic phenomena, its physical\nsupernaturalism, its exaggerated appreciation of martyrdom.\n\nSuch, in barest outline, is the theory which M. Bunsen characterizes as\nthe \"T\u00fcbingen romance.\" Its leading principle is, that the antagonism\nbetween the Petrine and Pauline, the Hebrew and the Hellenic Gospel,\nwhich has its origin and authentic expression in the Epistles to the\nGalatians, Romans, and Corinthians, continued into the second century;\ndetermined the evolution of doctrine and usage; stamped itself upon the\necclesiastical literature; and ended in the compromise and\nreconciliation of the Catholic Church. It is evident that, in the\nworking out of this principle, the New Testament canon is made to give\nway. With the exception of the greater Pauline Epistles and the\nApocalypse, both of which are held fast as genuine productions of the\nApostles whose names they bear, and the first Gospel, which is allowed\nto have at least the groundwork in the primitive tradition, the received\nbooks are all set loose from the dates and names usually assigned to\nthem, and arranged, in common with other products of the time, according\nto the relation they bear to the Ebionitish or to the Pauline school,\nand the particular stage they seem to mark in the history of either.\nThis proceeding, however, is not an original violence resorted to for\nthe exigencies of the theory; but, for the most part, a mere\nappropriation to its use of conclusions reached by antecedent\ntheologians on independent grounds. The Epistle to the Philippians is\nthe only work, if we mistake not, on the authenticity of which doubt has\nbeen thrown for the first time,--in our opinion, on very inadequate\ngrounds. In this, as in many other details of the hypothetical history,\nthere is not a little of that straining of real evidence and subtle\nfabrication of unreal, which German criticism seems unable to avoid. But\nthe acerbity displayed by the North German theologians towards the\nT\u00fcbingen critics appears to us unwarranted and humiliating; and we\ncertainly wish that M. Bunsen, whose prompt admiration of excellence so\nnobly distinguishes him from Ewald, could have expressed his dissent\nfrom Baur and Schwegler in a tone still further removed from the\nG\u00f6ttingen pitch. At least, we do not find the positive assertion that\nthe T\u00fcbingen theory is finally demolished by the \"Philosophumena\" at\nall borne out by the evidence; and are inclined to think that the case\nis very little altered by the new elements now contributed to its\ndiscussion. The critical offence which he thinks is now detected and\nexposed, is the ascription of a late origin to the fourth Gospel,[45]\nand the treatment of it as the perfected product, instead of the misused\nsource, of the Montanist conceptions of the Logos and the Paraclete. It\ncannot, however, be denied, that, in the previous absence of any\nexternal testimony to the existence of this Gospel earlier than the year\n170,[46] the internal difficulties are sufficiently serious to redeem\nthe doubt of its authenticity from the character of rashness or\nperversity. The irreconcilable opposition between its whole mode of\nthought and that of the Apocalypse is confessed by M. Bunsen himself,\nwhen he suggests that the proem on the Logos was directed against\nCerinthus,--the very person whose sentiments the Apocalypse was supposed\nto express, and to whom, accordingly, it was ascribed by those who\nrejected it. _One_ of the two books must resign, then, the name of the\nbeloved disciple; and, of the two, we need hardly say that the\nApocalypse is incomparably the better authenticated. Moreover, the\ntraditions which unite the names of James and John, as the authorities\nfollowed by the Church of Lesser Asia, render it hard to conceive that\ntheir doctrines can have taken precisely opposite directions; and that,\nwhile James represented the Judaic Christianity of the deepest dye,\nJohn can have produced the standard and conclusive work on the other\nside. In particular, the well-known fact, that the Asiatic Christians\njustified their Jewish mode of keeping Easter by the double plea, (1.)\nthat James and John always did so, (2.) that Christ himself had done so\nbefore he suffered, seems incompatible with any knowledge of the fourth\nGospel, which denies that Jesus ate the passover before he suffered, and\nmakes his own death to _be_ the passover. How could this Quartodeciman\ncontroversy live a day among a people possessing and acknowledging\nJohn's Gospel, which so bears upon it as to give a distinct\ncontradiction to the view of the other Gospels, and to pronounce in Asia\nMinor itself an unambiguous verdict in favor of the West? These are\ngrave difficulties, which, after all the ingenuity, even of Bleek,\nremain, we fear, unrelieved; and in their presence we cannot feel the\njustice of M. Bunsen's sentence, that Baur's opinion is \"the most\nunhappy of philological conjectures.\" Everything conjectural, however,\nmust give way before real historical testimony; and, if new evidence is\nactually contained in the \"Philosophumena,\" every true critic, of\nT\u00fcbingen or elsewhere, will be thankful for light to dissipate the\ndoubt. Now, it is said that our Roman bishop, in treating of the heresy\nof Basilides, supplies passages from the writings of this heresiarch\nwhich include quotations from the fourth Gospel; and thus prove its\nexistence as early as the year 130. This argument, as stated by M.\nBunsen, appeared to us quite conclusive, and we hoped, that a decided\nstep had been gained towards the settlement of the question. Great was\nour disappointment, on reading the account in the original, to find no\nevidence that any extract from Basilides was before us at all. A general\ndescription of the system bearing his name is given; but with no mention\nof any work of his, no profession that the words are his, and even so\nlittle individual reference to him, that the exposition is introduced as\nbeing a report of what \"Basilides and Isidorus, and the whole troop of\nthese people, falsely say\" (\u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03c8\u03b5\u03c5\u03b4\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9, sing.). Then follows the\naccount of the dogmas of the sect, with the word \u03c6\u03b7\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd inserted from\ntime to time, to indicate that the writer is still reporting the\nsentiments of others. The _singular_ form of this word implies nothing\nat all; it occurs immediately after the word \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03c8\u03b5\u03c5\u03b4\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9, and has the\nsame avowedly plural subject. The statement, therefore, within which are\ncontained the Scripture citations, is a merely general one of the\nopinions of a sect which continued to subsist till a much later time\nthan the lowest date ever assigned for the composition of the fourth\nGospel. If the actual words of any writings current among these heretics\nare given, they are the words of an author or authors wholly unknown,\nand to refer them to Basilides in particular is a mere arbitrary act of\nwill. The change from the singular to the plural forms of citation in\nthe midst of one and the same sentence, and the disregard of concord\nbetween verb and subject, show that no inference can be drawn from so\nloose a system of grammatical usage. All that can be affirmed is, that\nour author had in his hand _some_ production of the Basilidian \u03c7\u03bf\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2, in\nwhich the fourth Gospel was quoted; but this affords no chronological\ndatum that can be of the smallest use.[47] The same remark applies to\nthe use of John's Gospel by the Ophites. That they did use it is\nevident; that they existed as far back as the time of Peter and Paul is\ncertainly probable; yet it does not follow that the fourth Gospel was\nthen extant. For they continued in existence through two or three\ncenturies, dating, as Baur has shown, from a time anterior not only to\nthe Christian heresies, but to Christianity itself, and extending down\nto Origen's time; and to what part of this long period the writings\nbelonged which the author of the \"Philosophumena\" employed, we are\nabsolutely unable to determine. We do not know why M. Bunsen has not\nappealed also to a quotation from the Gospel which occurs (p. 194) in an\naccount of the Valentinian system. If, as he affirms (I. 63), this\naccount were really in \"_Valentinus's own words_,\" the citation would be\nof particular value in the controversy. For it has always been urged by\nthe T\u00fcbingen critics as a highly significant fact, that while the\n_followers_ of Valentinus showed an especial eagerness to appeal to the\nGospel of John, and one of the earliest, Heracleon, wrote a commentary\nupon it, no trace could be found of its use by the heresiarch himself.\nFrom this circumstance, they have inferred that the Gospel was not\navailable for him, and first appeared after his time. A single clause\ncited by him from the Gospel would demolish this argument at once. But\nthe assertion that we have here \"full eight pages of Valentinus's own\nwords\" appears to us quite groundless. No such thing is affirmed by the\nwriter of the eight pages. He promises to tell us how the strict\nadherents to the original principle of the sect expounded their doctrine\n(\u1f61\u03c2 \u03b5\u03ba\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9 \u03b4\u03b9\u03b4\u03b1\u03c3\u03ba\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9); and then passes over, as usual, to the singular\n\u03c6\u03b7\u03c3\u03b9, returning, however, from time to time, to the plural\nforms,--\u03b8\u03b5\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9, \u03bb\u03b5\u03b3\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9, &c.,--and thus leaving no pretext for the\nassumption that Valentinus is before us in person. The later Gnostics\nindisputably resorted to the Gospel of John with especial zeal and\npreference; and if their predecessors, Basilides and Valentinus, were\nacquainted with the book, it is surprising that no trace of their\nfamiliarity with it has been found; and that the former should have\nsought to authenticate the secret doctrine he professed to have received\nby the name of Matthew or Matthias instead of John. It deserves remark,\nthat the citations preserved by our author are made, like those of\nJustin Martyr, as from an anonymous writing, without mentioning the name\nof the Evangelist; a circumstance less surprising in reference to the\nSynoptics alone, which present only varieties of the same fundamental\ntradition, than when the fourth Gospel, so evidently the independent\nproduction of a single mind, is thrown into the group. The Epistles of\nPaul and the books of the Old Testament are frequently quoted by name;\nand why this practice should invariably cease whenever the historical\nwork of an Apostle was in the hand, it is not easy to explain. The\nApocalypse is mentioned not without his name.[48]\n\nFor these reasons we are of opinion that the question about the date and\nauthenticity of the fourth Gospel is wholly unaffected by the\nnewly-discovered work. On this side, no new facilities are gained for\nconfuting the T\u00fcbingen theory. The most positive and startling fact\nagainst it is presented from another direction. We know that the system\nof Theodotus, which was Unitarian, was condemned by Victor in the last\ndecade of the second century.[49] Now Victor was the very pope to the\nend of whose period, according to the followers of Artemon, their\nmonarchian faith was upheld in the Roman Church, and in the time of\nwhose successor was the first importation of the higher doctrine of the\nLogos. On this complaint of the Artemonites, Baur and Schwegler lay\ngreat stress; but is it not refuted by Victor's orthodox act of\nexpelling a Unitarian? Undoubtedly it would be so, _if_ Theodotus were\nexcommunicated precisely for his belief in the uni-personality of God.\nBut his scheme included many articles; and we know nothing of the\nground taken in the proceedings against him. There was one question,\nhowever, which, however indifferent to us, was evidently very near to\nthe feelings of the early Church, and on which Theodotus separated\nhimself from the prevailing conceptions of his time,--viz. At what date\ndid the Christ, the Divine principle, become united with Jesus, the\nhuman being? \"At his baptism,\" replied Theodotus.[50] \"Before his\nbirth,\" said the general voice of the Christians. We are disposed to\nthink _this_ was the obnoxious tenet which Victor construed into heresy;\nand if so, the strife had no bearing upon the doctrine of the\npersonality of the Logos, which the pope and the heretic might both have\nrejected. Of the Unitarianism of that time, it was no essential feature\nto postpone till the baptism the heavenly element in Christ. We remember\nno reason for supposing that the Artemonites did so, though Theodotus\ndid; and if they knew that the objection which had been fatal to him did\nnot apply to them, their claim of ancient and orthodox sanction for what\nthey held in common with him was not answered by pointing to his\ncondemnation for what was special to himself. But is there, it will be\nasked, any evidence that the Roman Church attached importance to this\nparticular ingredient of the Theodotian scheme, so that their bishop\nmight feel impelled to visit it with ecclesiastical censure? We believe\nthere is, and _that_ too in the \"Philosophumena.\" In the author's\nconfession of faith occurs a passage which produces at first a strange\nimpression upon a modern reader, and appears like a violence done to the\nGospel history. It affirms that Christ _passed through every stage of\nhuman life_, that he might serve as the model to all. Nor is this idea a\npersonal whim of the writer; but is borrowed from his master, Iren\u00e6us,\nwho gives it in more detail, and winds it up with the assertion, that\nChrist _lived to be fifty years old_.[51] Iren\u00e6us thus falsifies the\nhistory to make good the moral; our presbyter, by respecting the\nhistory, apparently invalidates the moral: for it can scarcely be said\nof a life closed after thirty-one or thirty-two years, that it supplies\na rule \u03c0\u03b1\u03c3\u03b1 \u1f21\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03b9\u03b7; at least it would seem more natural to apologize for\nits premature termination, than to lay stress on its absolute\ncompleteness. The truth is, there was a certain, obnoxious tenet behind,\nwhich these writers were anxious to contradict, and which their\nassertion exactly meets,--viz. the very tenet of Theodotus, that the\nDivine nature did not unite itself with the Saviour till his baptism.\nIren\u00e6us and his pupil could not endure this limitation of what was\nhighest in Christ to the interval between his first public preaching and\nhis crucifixion. They thought that in this way it was reduced to a mere\nofficial investiture, not integral to his being, but externally\nsuperinduced; and that such a conception deprived it of all its moral\nsignificance. The union of the Logos with our nature was not a provision\nfor temporary inspiration or a forensic redemption; but was intended to\nmould a life and shape a personal existence, according to the immaculate\nideal of humanity. To accomplish this intention it was necessary that\nthe Logos should never be absent from any part of his earthly being; but\nshould have claimed his person from the first, and by preoccupation have\nneutralized the action of the natural (or psychic) element, throughout\nall the years of his continuance among men. The anxiety of Iren\u00e6us's\nschool to put this interpretation on the manifestation of the Logos,\ntheir determination to distinguish it, on the one hand, from the\n_mediate_ communication of prophets as an _immediate_ presentation\n(\u03b1\u03c5\u03c4\u03bf\u03c8\u03b5\u03b9 \u03c6\u03b1\u03bd\u03b5\u03c1\u03c9\u03b8\u03b7\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9), and, on the other, from the _transient_ occupancy\nof a ready-made man, as a _permanent_ and thorough-going incarnation\n(\u03c3\u03b1\u03c1\u03ba\u03c9\u03b8\u03b7\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9 in opposition to \u03c6\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03c3\u03b9\u03b1 or \u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c0\u03b7), is apparent in their\nwhole language on this subject. In the Son, we are carried to the fresh\nfountain-head of every kind of perfection, and find the unspoiled ideal\nof heavenly and terrestrial natures. In one of the fragments of\nHippolytus, published by Mai, and noticed in M. Bunsen's Appendix, this\nnotion is conveyed by the remark, that He is first-born of God's own\nessence, that he may have precedence of angels; first-born of a virgin,\nthat he may be a fresh-created Adam; first-born of death, that he might\nbecome the first fruits of our resurrection.[52] This doctrine it is, we\napprehend, which amplifies itself into the Iren\u00e6an statement, that the\ndivine and ideal function of Christ coalesced with the historical\nthroughout, so that to infants he was a consecrating infant; to little\nchildren, a consecrating child; to youth, a consecrating model of youth;\nand to elders, a still consecrating rule, not only by disclosure of\ntruth, but by exhibiting the true type of their perfection.[53] The\nteaching of Theodotus, that the heavenly \u03b5\u03b9\u03ba\u03c9\u03bd remained at a distance\ntill the baptism, was directly contradictory of this favorite notion;\nand might well produce hostile excitement, and provoke condemnation, in\na church where the Iren\u00e6an influence is known to have been powerful. The\nattitude that Victor assumed towards the Theodotians is thus perfectly\ncompatible with Monarchian opinions, and with an attitude equally\nhostile, in the opposite direction, towards the advancing Trinitarian\nclaims of a distinct personality for the Logos. Though only the one\nhostility is recorded of Victor, the other is ascribed, as we have seen,\nto his immediate successors, Zephyrinus and Callistus, who maintained\nthat it was no other person than the Father that dwelt as the Logos in\nthe Son. The facts taken together, and spreading as they do over the\nperiods of three popes, afford undeniable traces of a struggle at the\nturn of the second century, between a prevalent but threatened\nMonarchianism, and a new doctrine of the Divine Personality of the Son.\n\nAfter all, why is M. Bunsen so anxious to disprove the late appearance\nof the fourth Gospel? Did he value it chiefly as a biographical sketch,\nand depend upon it for concrete facts, a first-hand authentication of\nits contents would be of primary moment. But his interest in it is\nevidently speculative rather than historical, and centres upon its\ndoctrinal thought, not on its narrative attestation; and especially\nsingles out the proem as a condensed and perfect expression of Christian\nontology. The book speaks to him, and finds him, out of its mystic\nspiritual depths; sanctifies his own philosophy; glorifies with an ideal\nhaze the greatest reality of history; blends with melting tints the\ntenderness of the human, and the sublimity of the divine life; and\npresents the Holy Spirit as immanent in the souls of the faithful and\nthe destinies of humanity. But its enunciation of great truths, its\npenetration to the still sanctuary of devout consciousness, will not\ncease to be facts, or become doubtful as merits, or be changed in their\nendearing power, by an alteration in the superscription or the date.\nThese religious and philosophical features converse directly with Reason\nand Conscience, and have the same significance, whatever their critical\nhistory may be; and are not the less rich as inspirations from having\npassed for interpretation through more minds than one. There is neither\ncommon sense nor piety, as M. Bunsen himself, we feel certain, will\nallow, in the assumption that Revelation is necessarily most perfect at\nits source, and can only grow earthy and turbid as it flows. Were it\nsomething entirely foreign to the mind, capable of holding no thought in\nsolution, but inevitably spoiled by every abrasion it effects of\nphilosophy and feeling, this mechanical view would be correct. But if it\nbe the intenser presence, the quickened perception of a Being absent\nfrom none; if it be the infinite original of which philosophy is the\nfinite reflection; if thus it speaks, not in the unknown tongue of\nisolated ecstasy, but in the expressive music of our common\nconsciousness and secret prayer;--then is it so little unnatural, so\nrelated to the constitution of our faculties, that the mind's continuous\nreaction on it may bring it more clearly out; and, after being detained\nat first amid sluggish levels and unwholesome growths which mar its\ndivine transparency, it may percolate through finer media, drop its\naccidental admixtures, and take up in each stratum of thought some\nelements given it by native affinity, and become more purely the spring\nof life in its descent than in its source. If, before the fourth Gospel\nwas written, the figure of Christ, less close to the eye, was seen more\nin its relations to humanity and to God; if his deep hints, working in\nthe experience of more than one generation, had expanded their\nmarvellous contents; if, in a prolonged contact of his religion with\nHellenism, elements had disclosed themselves of irresistible sympathy,\nand the first sharp boundary drawn by Jewish hands had melted away; if\nhis concrete history itself was now subordinate to its ideal\ninterpretation;--the book will present us still with a Christianity, not\nimpoverished, but enriched. In proportion as its thoughts speak for\nthemselves by their depth and beauty, may all anxiety cease about their\nexternal legitimation; their credentials become eternal instead of\nindividual; and where the Father himself thus beareth witness, Christ\nneedeth not the testimony of man. It cannot be, therefore, any religious\nissue that depends on the date of this Christian record; it cannot\n_make_ truth, it can only awaken the mind to discern it; and whether it\nhas this power or not, the mind can only report according to its\nconsciousness of quickening light or stagnant darkness. The interest of\nthis question cannot surely be more than a _critical_ interest, to one\nwho can feel and speak in this noble strain:--\n\n\"No divine authority is given to any set of men to make truth for\nmankind. The supreme judge is the Spirit in the Church, that is to\nsay, in the universal body of men professing Christ. The universal\nconscience is God's highest interpreter. If Christ speaks truth, his\nwords must speak to the human reason and conscience, whenever and\nwherever they are preached: let them, therefore, be preached. If the\nGospels contained inspired wisdom, they must themselves inspire with\nheavenly thoughts the conscientious inquirer and the serious thinker:\nlet them, therefore, freely be made the object of inquiry and of\nthought. Scripture, to be believed true with full conviction, must be\nat one with reason: let it, therefore, be treated rationally. By\ntaking this course, we shall not lose strength; but we shall gain a\nstrength which no church ever had. There is strength in Christian\ndiscipline, if freely accepted by those who are to submit to it; there\nis strength in spiritual authority, if freely acknowledged by those\nwho care for Christ; there is strength unto death in the enthusiasm of\nan unenlightened people, if sincere, and connected with lofty moral\nideas. But there is no strength to be compared with that of a faith\nwhich identifies moral and intellectual conviction with religious\nbelief, with that of an authority instituted by such a faith, and of a\nChristian life based upon it, and striving to Christianize this world\nof ours, for which Christianity was proclaimed. Let those who are\nsincere, but timid, look into their conscience, and ask themselves\nwhether their timidity proceeds from faith, or whether it does not\nrather betray a want of faith. Europe is in a critical state,\npolitically, ecclesiastically, socially. Where is the power able to\nreclaim a world, which, if it be faithless, is become so under\nuntenable and ineffective ordinances,--which, if it is in a state of\nconfusion, has become confused by those who have spiritually guided\nit? Armies may subdue liberty; but armies cannot conquer ideas: much\nless can Jesuits and Jesuitical principles restore religion, or\nsuperstition revive faith. I deny the prevalence of a destructive and\nirreligious spirit in the hearts of the immense majority of the\npeople. I believe that the world wants, not less, but more religion.\nBut however this be, I am firmly convinced that God governs the world,\nand that he governs it by the eternal ideas of truth and justice\nengraved on our conscience and reason; and I am sure that nations, who\nhave conquered, or are conquering, civil liberty for themselves, will\nsooner or later as certainly demand liberty of religious thought, and\nthat those whose fathers have victoriously acquired religious liberty\nwill not fail to demand civil and political liberty also. With these\nideas, and with the present irresistible power of communicating ideas,\nwhat can save us except religion, and therefore Christianity? But then\nit must be a Christianity based upon that which is eternally God's\nown, and is as indestructible and as invincible as he is himself: it\nmust be based upon Reason and Conscience, I mean reason spontaneously\nembracing the faith in Christ, and Christian faith feeling itself at\none with reason and with the history of the world. Civilized Europe,\nas it is at present, will fall; or it will be pacified by this\nliberty, this reason, this faith. To prove that the cause of\nProtestantism in the nineteenth century is identical with the cause of\nChristianity, it is only necessary to attend to this fact; that they\nboth must sink and fall, until they stand upon their indestructible\nground, which, in my inmost conviction, is the real, genuine, original\nground upon which Christ placed it. Let us, then, give up all notions\nof finding any other basis, all attempts to prop up faith by effete\nforms and outward things: let us cease to combat reason, whenever it\ncontradicts conventional forms and formularies. We must take the\nground pointed out by the Gospel, as well as by the history of\nChristianity. We may then hope to realize what Christ died for, to see\nthe Church fulfil the high destinies of Christianity, and God's will\nmanifested by Christ to mankind, so as to make the kingdoms of this\nearth the kingdoms of the Most High.\"--p. 172.\n\nWe have given our readers no conception of the variety and richness of\nM. Bunsen's work; having scarcely passed beyond the limits of the\nfirst volume. It was impossible to pass by, without examination, the\nrecovered monument of early Christianity, whence his materials and\nsuggestions are primarily drawn; and it is equally impossible to pass\nbeyond it, without entering on a field too wide to be surveyed. We can\nonly record that, in the remaining volumes, which are, in fact, a\nseries of separate productions, the early doctrine of the Eucharist is\ninvestigated, and the progress of its corruptions strikingly traced;\nthe primitive system of ecclesiastical rules or canons, and the\n\"Church-and-House Book,\" or manual of instruction and piety in use\namong the ante-Nicene Christians, are carefully and laboriously\nrestored; and genuine Liturgies of the first centuries are reproduced.\nIn this arduous work of recovery, there is necessarily much need of\ncritical tact, not to say much room for critical conjecture. But the\none our author exercises with great felicity; and the other he takes\nall possible pains to reduce to its lowest amount by careful\ncomparison of Syrian, Coptic, and Abyssinian texts. The general result\nis a truly interesting set of sketches for a picture of the early\nChurch; which rises before us with no priestly pretensions, no\nscholastic creeds, no bibliolatry, dry and dead; but certainly with an\naspect of genuine piety and affection, and with an air of mild\nauthority over the whole of life, which are the more winning from the\nfrightful corruption and dissolving civilization of the Old World\naround. That our author should be fascinated with the image he has\nre-created, and long to see it brought to life, in place of that body\nof death on which we hang the pomps and titles of our nominal\nChristianity, is not astonishing. But a greater change is\nneeded--though a far less will be denied--than a return to the type of\nfaith and worship in the second century. To destroy the fatal chasm\nbetween profession and conviction, and bring men to live fresh out of\na real reverence instead of against a pretended or a fancied one, a\ngreater latitude and flexibility must be given to the forms of\nspiritual culture than was needed in the ancient world. The unity of\nsystem which was once possible is unseasonable amid our growing\nvarieties of condition and culture; and the methods which were natural\namong a people closely thrown together and constructing their life\naround the Church as a centre, would be highly artificial in a state\nof society in which the family is the real unit, and the congregation\na precarious aggregate, of existence. Nothing, however, can be finer\nor more generous than the spirit of our author's suggestions of\nreform; and we earnestly thank him for a profusion of pregnant\nthoughts and faithful warnings, the application of one half of which\nwould change the fate of our churches,--the destiny of our\nnation,--the courses of the world.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[26] \u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2 \u03bc\u03b5\u03bd \u03b5\u03c5 \u03c0\u03c1\u03b1\u03be\u03b1\u03c3\u03b9 \u03b4\u03b9\u03ba\u03b1\u03b9\u03c9\u03c2 \u03c4\u03b7\u03bd \u03b1\u03b9\u03b4\u03b9\u03bf\u03c5 \u03b1\u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03b1\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03c3\u03c7\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2, \u03c4\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2\n\u03b4\u03b5 \u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u03c6\u03b1\u03c5\u03bb\u03c9\u03bd \u03b5\u03c1\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2 \u03c4\u03b7\u03bd \u03b1\u03b9\u03c9\u03bd\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd \u03ba\u03bf\u03bb\u03b1\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd \u03b1\u03c0\u03bf\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9 \u03bc\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2. \u039a\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2\n\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd \u03c4\u03bf \u03c0\u03c5\u03c1 \u03b1\u03c3\u03b2\u03b5\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u03b4\u03b9\u03b1\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9 \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u03b1\u03c4\u03b5\u03bb\u03b5\u03c5\u03c4\u03b5\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd, \u03c3\u03ba\u03c9\u03bb\u03b5\u03be \u03b4\u03b5 \u03c4\u03b9\u03c2 \u03b5\u03bc\u03c0\u03c5\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2, \u03bc\u03b7\n\u03c4\u03b5\u03bb\u03b5\u03c5\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd, \u03bc\u03b7\u03b4\u03b5 \u03c3\u03c9\u03bc\u03b1 \u03b4\u03b9\u03b1\u03c6\u03b8\u03b5\u03b9\u03c1\u03c9\u03bd, \u03b1\u03c0\u03b1\u03c5\u03c3\u03c4\u03c9 \u03b4\u03b5 \u03bf\u03b4\u03c5\u03bd\u03b7 \u03b5\u03ba \u03c3\u03c9\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b5\u03ba\u03b2\u03c1\u03b1\u03c3\u03c3\u03c9\u03bd\n\u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9. \u03a4\u03bf\u03c5\u03c4\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 \u03bf\u03c5\u03c7 \u03c5\u03c0\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b1\u03bd\u03b1\u03c0\u03b1\u03c5\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9, \u03bf\u03c5 \u03bd\u03c5\u03be \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b7\u03b3\u03bf\u03c1\u03b7\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9, \u03bf\u03c5 \u03b8\u03b1\u03bd\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2\n\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2 \u03ba\u03bf\u03bb\u03b1\u03c3\u03b5\u03c9\u03c2 \u03b1\u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03c5\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9, \u03bf\u03c5 \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03ba\u03bb\u03b7\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2 \u03c3\u03c5\u03b3\u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03c9\u03bd \u03bc\u03b5\u03c3\u03b9\u03c4\u03b5\u03c5\u03c3\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u03bf\u03bd\u03b7\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9. S.\nHippol. adv. Gr\u00e6cos. Fabricii Hipp. Op. p. 222.\n\n[27] Euseb. H. E., VI. 20.\n\n[28] Attributed to him by Neander, Kirch. Geschichte, I. iii. 1150;\nand Schwegler, Montanismus, p. 224.\n\n[29] Storr places him at their head, Zweck der Evang. Geschichte, p. 63;\nand Eichhorn associates him with them, Einleitung in das N. T., II. 414.\n\n[30] See the notice of the Nestorian Ebed Jesu, in Asseman's Bibl.\nOrient. III. i. ap. Gieseler, k. 9, \u00a7 63.\n\n[31] On their relation, and the doctrine connected with their names,\nsee Baur's \"Christl. Gnosis,\" p. 310.\n\n[32] Phot. Biblioth., cod. 48. \u1f61\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u03b1\u03c5\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 (i. e. \u0393\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2) \u03b5\u03bd \u03c4\u03c9 \u03c4\u03b5\u03bb\u03b5\u03b9\n\u03c4\u03bf\u03c5 \u03bb\u03b1\u03b2\u03c5\u03c1\u03b9\u03bd\u03b8\u03bf\u03c5 \u03b4\u03b9\u03b5\u03bc\u03b1\u03c1\u03c4\u03c5\u03c1\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf, \u1f11\u03b1\u03c5\u03c4\u03bf\u03c5 \u03b5\u03b9\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03b9 \u03c4\u03b7\u03c2 \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5 \u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2\n\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9\u03b1\u03c2 \u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u03bf\u03bd.\n\n[33] Theologische Jahrb\u00fccher, 12er Band, I. 1853, p. 154.\n\n[34] H\u00e6ret. Fab. II. c. 5. \u039a\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1 \u03c4\u03b7\u03c2 \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u1f41 \u03c3\u03bc\u03b9\u03ba\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c3\u03c5\u03bd\u03b5\u03b3\u03c1\u03b1\u03c6\u03b7\n\u03bb\u03b1\u03b2\u03c5\u03c1\u03b9\u03bd\u03b8\u03bf\u03c2, \u1f41\u03bd \u03c4\u03b9\u03bd\u03b5\u03c2 \u03a9\u03c1\u03b9\u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 \u1f51\u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03b1\u03bc\u03b2\u03b1\u03bd\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9 \u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03b7\u03bc\u03b1 \u00b7 \u03b1\u03bb\u03bb \u1f41 \u03c7\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03ba\u03c4\u03b7\u03c1\n\u03b5\u03bb\u03b5\u03b3\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9 \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 \u03bb\u03b5\u03b3\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03c2.\n\n[35] He also describes its exact relation to the other, when he calls\nit a _special_ work (\u03b9 \u03b4 \u03b9 \u03c9 \u03c2) in comparison with \"The Labyrinth\" as\na general one: \u03c3\u03c5\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03be\u03b1\u03b9 \u03b4\u03b5 \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u1f11\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd \u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u03bf\u03bd \u03b9\u03b4\u03b9\u03c9\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1 \u03c4\u03b7\u03c2 \u0391\u03c1\u03c4\u03b5\u03bc\u03c9\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2\n\u03b1\u03b9\u03c1\u03b5\u03c3\u03b5\u03c9\u03c2. Cod. 48.\n\n[36] Ibid. \u1f61\u03c3\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1 \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u039b\u03b1\u03b2\u03c5\u03c1\u03b9\u03bd\u03b8\u03bf\u03bd \u03c4\u03b9\u03bd\u03b5\u03c2 \u03b5\u03c0\u03b5\u03b3\u03c1\u03b1\u03c8\u03b1\u03bd \u03a9\u03c1\u03b9\u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2.\n\n[37] Biblioth. cod. 48; Lardner's \"Credibility,\" Part II. ch. xxxii.;\nBunsen's Hippolytus, I. p. 150.\n\n[38] Euseb. H. E., III. 28. \u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b1 \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u039a\u03b7\u03c1\u03b9\u03bd\u03b8\u03bf\u03c2, \u1f41 \u03b4\u03b9 \u03b1\u03c0\u03bf\u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03c5\u03c8\u03b5\u03c9\u03bd \u1f61\u03c2 \u1f51\u03c0\u03bf\n\u03b1\u03c0\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5 \u03bc\u03b5\u03b3\u03b1\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5 \u03b3\u03b5\u03b3\u03c1\u03b1\u03bc\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03c9\u03bd \u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u03b9\u03b1\u03c2 \u03b7\u03bc\u03b9\u03bd \u1f61\u03c2 \u03b4\u03b9 \u03b1\u03b3\u03b3\u03b5\u03bb\u03c9\u03bd \u03b1\u03c5\u03c4\u03c9\n\u03b4\u03b5\u03b4\u03b5\u03b9\u03b3\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03b1\u03c2 \u03c8\u03b5\u03c5\u03b4\u03bf\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b5\u03c0\u03b5\u03b9\u03c3\u03b1\u03b3\u03b5\u03b9, \u03bb\u03b5\u03b3\u03c9\u03bd, \u03bc\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1 \u03c4\u03b7\u03bd \u03b1\u03bd\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd \u03b5\u03c0\u03b9\u03b3\u03b5\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd\n\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c4\u03bf \u03b2\u03b1\u03c3\u03b9\u03bb\u03b5\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5 \u03a7\u03c1\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c5, \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c0\u03b1\u03bb\u03b9\u03bd \u03b5\u03c0\u03b9\u03b8\u03c5\u03bc\u03b9\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u1f21\u03b4\u03bf\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2 \u03b5\u03bd\n\u1f39\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b1\u03bb\u03b7\u03bc \u03c4\u03b7\u03bd \u03c3\u03b1\u03c1\u03ba\u03b1 \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03b9\u03c4\u03b5\u03c5\u03bf\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03b7\u03bd \u03b4\u03bf\u03c5\u03bb\u03b5\u03c5\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd. \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u03b5\u03c7\u03b8\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f51\u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03c7\u03c9\u03bd \u03c4\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2\n\u03b3\u03c1\u03b1\u03c6\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2 \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5 \u03b8\u03b5\u03bf\u03c5 \u03b1\u03c1\u03b9\u03b8\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd \u03c7\u03b9\u03bb\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03b5\u03c4\u03b9\u03b1\u03c2 \u03b5\u03bd \u03b3\u03b1\u03bc\u03c9 \u1f11\u03bf\u03c1\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2 \u03b8\u03b5\u03bb\u03c9\u03bd \u03c0\u03bb\u03b1\u03bd\u03b1\u03bd \u03bb\u03b5\u03b3\u03b5\u03b9\n\u03b3\u03b9\u03bd\u03b5\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9. The passage, preserving its obscurities, seems to run thus:\n\"Cerinthus too, through the medium of revelations written as if by a\ngreat Apostle, has palmed off upon us marvellous accounts, pretending to\nhave been shown him by angels; to the effect that, after the\nresurrection, the kingdom of Christ will be an earthly one, and that the\nflesh will again be at the head of affairs, and serve in Jerusalem the\nlusts and pleasures of sense. And with wilful misguidance he says,\nsetting himself in opposition to the Scriptures of God, that a period of\na thousand years will be spent in nuptial festivities.\" On this\nmuch-controverted passage, Lardner (Cred., P. II. ch. xxxii.) suspends\nhis judgment, rather inclining to doubt whether our Apocalypse is\nreferred to; Hug (Einl. \u00a7 176), Paulus (Hist. Cerinth., P. I. \u00a7 30),\nwith Twells and Hartwig (whose criticisms we have not seen), deny that\nthe Apocalypse is meant; while Eichhorn (Einl. in das N. T., VI. v. \u00a7\n194. 2), De Wette (Lehrbuch der Einl. in d. N. T., \u00a7 192 a), L\u00fccke\n(Commentar \u00fcb. d. Schriften des Ev. Johannes, Offenb. \u00a7 33), and\nSchwegler (Das nachapost. Zeitalter, 2er B. p. 218), take the other\nside. It must be confessed also, that, till the rise of the present\ndiscussion about the \"Philosophoumena,\" Baur agreed with these last\nwriters. (See his Christl. Lehre v. d. Dreieinigkeit, 1er B. p. 283.) He\nnow urges, however, that, in a case already so doubtful, the discovery\nof a lost book, which we have good reason to ascribe to Caius,\nnecessarily brings in new evidence, and may turn the scale between two\nbalanced interpretations. (Theol. Jahrb., p. 157.)\n\n[39] Baur explains the slight treatment of the Montanist heresy in the\n\"Philosophumena\" by the intention which Caius already had of writing a\nspecial book against them: and contends that this intention is\nannounced expressly in the words (p. 276), \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03b9 \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u03b1\u03c5\u03b8\u03b9\u03c2\n\u03bb\u03b5\u03c0\u03c4\u03bf\u03bc\u03b5\u03c1\u03b5\u03c3\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd \u03b5\u03ba\u03b8\u03b7\u03c3\u03bf\u03bc\u03b1\u03b9 \u00b7 \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03bb\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2 \u03b3\u03b1\u03c1 \u03b1\u03c6\u03bf\u03c1\u03bc\u03b7 \u03ba\u03b1\u03ba\u03c9\u03bd \u03b3\u03b5\u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03b7\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9 \u1f21\n\u03c4\u03bf\u03c5\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u03b1\u03b9\u03c1\u03b5\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2. These words, however, do not refer, as the connection\nevidently shows, to the Montanists generally; but only to a certain\nclass of them who fell in with the patripassian doctrine of Noctus.\nThe Noctian scheme Caius was going to discuss further on in this very\nbook: and it is evidently to this later chapter, not to any separate\nwork against Montanism, that he alludes.\n\n[40] The word is perhaps not allowable in speaking of the earliest\ntime (the reign of Alexander Severus) assignable for the erection of\nseparate buildings appropriate to Christian worship.\n\n[41] To Hippolytus and the writers of his period, Dorner ascribes the\nlatter, preponderantly over the former, side of this alternative;\nwhile H\u00e4nell charges their view with Sabellianism. See Dorner's\n\"Entwickelungsgeschichte der Lehre von der Person Christi,\" I. p. 611,\n_seq._\n\n[42] \"Tert. adv. Prax.,\" c. 3.\n\n[43] Euseb. H. E., V. 28.\n\n[44] See Adolph Schliemann's \"Clementinen, nebst den verwandten\nSchriften und der Ebionitismus,\" Cap. III. ii. \u00a7\u00a7 8, 9.\n\n[45] M. Bunsen must have some authority which has escaped our memory for\nattributing to \"the whole school of T\u00fcbingen\" the opinion \"that the\nfourth Gospel was written about the year 165 or 170.\" (I. v.) We cannot\ncall to mind any criticism which assigns so late a date. Schwegler uses\nvarious expressions to mark the time to which he refers; e. g. \"about\nthe middle of the second century\" (Nachapost. Zeitalter, II. 354, and\nMontanismus, p. 214); \"intermediate between the Apologists and Iren\u00e6us\"\n(II. 369); \"previous to the last third of the second century\" (II. 348);\n\"in the second quarter of the second century\" (II. 345). Zeller also\nfixes on the year 150 as the time when the Gospel may probably have\nfirst appeared. (Zeller's Jahrb., 1845, p. 646.)\n\n[46] The earliest testimony is that of Apollinaris, of Hierapolis in\nPhrygia, preserved in the \"Paschal Chronicle,\" probably about A. D.\n170-175.\n\n[47] We will give, from this very section on Basilides, and its\nsubsequent recapitulation, three examples of the irregular mode of\ncitation to which we refer: (_a_) of the singular verb with plural\nsubject expressed; (_b_) of plural verb with singular subject expressed;\n(_c_) of the mixture of singular and plural subjects in the same\nsentence, so that the affirmation belongs indeterminately to either.\n\n(_a_) \u0399\u03b4\u03c9\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd \u03bf\u03c5\u03bd \u03c0\u03c9\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03c6\u03b1\u03bd\u03c9\u03c2 \u0392\u03b1\u03c3\u03b9\u03bb\u03b5\u03b9\u03b4\u03b7\u03c2 \u1f41\u03bc\u03bf\u03c5 \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u0399\u03c3\u03b9\u03b4\u03c9\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c0\u03b1\u03c2 \u1f41\n\u03c4\u03bf\u03c5\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u03c7\u03bf\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2, \u03bf\u03c5\u03c7 \u1f01\u03c0\u03bb\u03c9\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03c8\u03b5\u03c5\u03b4\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9 \u03bc\u03bf\u03bd\u03bf\u03c5 \u039c\u03b1\u03c4\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03c5, \u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b1 \u03b3\u03b1\u03c1 \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5\n\u03a3\u03c9\u03c4\u03b7\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b1\u03c5\u03c4\u03bf\u03c5. \u0397\u03bd, \u03c6\u03b7\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd, \u1f41\u03c4\u03b5 \u03b7\u03bd \u03bf\u03c5\u03b4\u03b5\u03bd, \u03ba. \u03c4. \u03bb.--p. 230.\n\n(_b_) \u0392\u03b1\u03c3\u03b9\u03bb\u03b5\u03b9\u03b4\u03b7\u03c2 \u03b4\u03b5 \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u03b1\u03c5\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03bb\u03b5\u03b3\u03b5\u03b9 \u03b5\u03b9\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9 \u03b8\u03b5\u03bf\u03bd \u03bf\u03c5\u03ba \u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1, \u03c0\u03b5\u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03b7\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd\n\u03ba\u03bf\u03c3\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd \u03b5\u03be \u03bf\u03c5\u03ba \u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd, ... \u03b7 \u1f61\u03c2 \u03c9\u03bf\u03bd \u03c4\u03b1\u03bf\u03c5 \u03b5\u03c7\u03bf\u03bd \u03b5\u03bd \u1f11\u03b1\u03c5\u03c4\u03c9 \u03c4\u03b7\u03bd \u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u03c7\u03c1\u03c9\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd\n\u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03ba\u03b9\u03bb\u03b7\u03bd \u03c0\u03bb\u03b7\u03b8\u03c5\u03bd, \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5\u03c4\u03bf \u03b5\u03b9\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c6\u03b1\u03c3\u03b9 \u03c4\u03bf \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5 \u03ba\u03bf\u03c3\u03bc\u03bf\u03c5 \u03c3\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03bc\u03b1, \u03ba. \u03c4.\n\u03bb.--p. 320.\n\n(_c_) \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u03b4\u03b5\u03b4\u03bf\u03b9\u03ba\u03b5 \u03c4\u03b1\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1 \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03b2\u03bf\u03bb\u03b7\u03bd \u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u03b3\u03b5\u03b3\u03bf\u03bd\u03bf\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9\u03b1\u03c2 \u1f41 \u0392\u03b1\u03c3\u03b9\u03bb\u03b5\u03b9\u03b4\u03b7\u03c2\n... \u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b1 \u03b5\u03b9\u03c0\u03b5, \u03c6\u03b7\u03c3\u03b9, \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u03b5\u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03b5\u03c4\u03bf, \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5\u03c4\u03bf \u03b5\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9\u03bd \u1f41 \u03bb\u03b5\u03b3\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd \u03bf\u03b9 \u03b1\u03bd\u03b4\u03c1\u03b5\u03c2\n\u03bf\u03c5\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9, \u03c4\u03bf \u03bb\u03b5\u03c7\u03b8\u03b5\u03bd \u1f51\u03c0\u03bf \u039c\u03c9\u03c3\u03b5\u03c9\u03c2, \"\u0393\u03b5\u03bd\u03b7\u03b8\u03b7\u03c4\u03c9 \u03c6\u03c9\u03c2, \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u03b5\u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03b5\u03c4\u03bf \u03c6\u03c9\u03c2.\" \u03a0\u03bf\u03b8\u03b5\u03bd,\n\u03c6\u03b7\u03c3\u03b9, \u03b3\u03b5\u03b3\u03bf\u03bd\u03b5 \u03c4\u03bf \u03c6\u03c9\u03c2; ... \u0393\u03b5\u03b3\u03bf\u03bd\u03b5, \u03c6\u03b7\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd, \u03b5\u03be \u03bf\u03c5\u03ba \u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u03c4\u03bf \u03c3\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03bc\u03b1 \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5\n\u03ba\u03bf\u03c3\u03bc\u03bf\u03c5, \u1f41 \u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f41 \u03bb\u03b5\u03c7\u03b8\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2 \u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03b7\u03b8\u03b7\u03c4\u03c9 \u03c6\u03c9\u03c2, \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5\u03c4\u03bf, \u03c6\u03b7\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd, \u03b5\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9 \u03c4\u03bf\n\u03bb\u03b5\u03b3\u03bf\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd \u03b5\u03bd \u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2 \u0395\u03c5\u03b1\u03b3\u03b3\u03b5\u03bb\u03b9\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2. \"\u0397\u03bd \u03c4\u03bf \u03c6\u03c9\u03c2 \u03c4\u03bf \u03b1\u03bb\u03b7\u03b8\u03b9\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd, \u1f41 \u03c6\u03c9\u03c4\u03b9\u03b6\u03b5\u03b9 \u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\n\u03b1\u03bd\u03b8\u03c1\u03c9\u03c0\u03bf\u03bd \u03b5\u03c1\u03c7\u03bf\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd \u03b5\u03b9\u03c2 \u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u03ba\u03bf\u03c3\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd.\"--p. 232. Now can any one decide\nwhether this comment on the \"Let there be light, and there was light,\"\nwith its applications to John i. 9, proceeds from \"Basilides\" or from\n\"these men\"?\n\n[48] Page 528.\n\n[49] Euseb. H. E., V. 28.\n\n[50] \"Philosophumena,\" p. 258.\n\n[51] Iren. Lib. II. c. 39.\n\n[52] I. p. 341.\n\n[53] The words of the author of the \"Philosophumena\" are these: \u03a4\u03bf\u03c5\u03c4\u03c5\u03bd\n\u03b5\u03b3\u03bd\u03c9\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd \u03b5\u03ba \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b8\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03c5 \u03c3\u03c9\u03bc\u03b1 \u03b1\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9\u03bb\u03b7\u03c6\u03bf\u03c4\u03b1 \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u03c0\u03b1\u03bb\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd \u03b1\u03bd\u03b8\u03c1\u03c9\u03c0\u03bf\u03bd \u03b4\u03b9\u03b1\n\u03ba\u03b1\u03b9\u03bd\u03b7\u03c2 \u03c0\u03bb\u03b1\u03c3\u03b5\u03c9\u03c2 \u03c0\u03b5\u03c6\u03bf\u03c1\u03b7\u03ba\u03bf\u03c4\u03b1, \u03b5\u03bd \u03b2\u03b9\u03c9 \u03b4\u03b9\u03b1 \u03c0\u03b1\u03c3\u03b7\u03c2 \u1f21\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03b9\u03b1\u03c2 \u03b5\u03bb\u03b7\u03bb\u03c5\u03b8\u03bf\u03c4\u03b1, \u03b9\u03bd\u03b1\n\u03c0\u03b1\u03c3\u03b7 \u1f21\u03bb\u03b9\u03ba\u03b9\u03b1 \u03b1\u03c5\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03bd\u03bf\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03b7\u03b8\u03b7 \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c3\u03ba\u03bf\u03c0\u03bf\u03bd \u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u03b9\u03b4\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd \u03b1\u03bd\u03b8\u03c1\u03c9\u03c0\u03bf\u03bd \u03c0\u03b1\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd\n\u03b1\u03bd\u03b8\u03c1\u03c9\u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2 \u03b5\u03c0\u03b9\u03b4\u03b5\u03b9\u03be\u03b7 \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03c9\u03bd, \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u03b4\u03b9 \u03b1\u03c5\u03c4\u03bf\u03c5 \u03b5\u03bb\u03b5\u03b3\u03be\u03b7 \u1f41\u03c4\u03b9 \u03bc\u03b7\u03b4\u03b5\u03bd \u03b5\u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03b7\u03c3\u03b5\u03bd \u1f41\n\u03b8\u03b5\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c0\u03bf\u03bd\u03b7\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd.--p. 337.\n\n\n\n\nTHE CREED OF CHRISTENDOM.\n\n    1. _The Creed of Christendom; its Foundations and Superstructure._\n    By WILLIAM RATHBONE GREG. London: Chapman. 1851.\n\n    2. _St. Paul's Epistles to the Corinthians; an Attempt to convey\n    their Spirit and Significance._ By JOHN HAMILTON THOM. London:\n    Chapman. 1851.\n\n\nThese two books are placed together without the least intention to\nintimate a resemblance between them, or to represent either author as\nsharing in the conclusions of the other. They are, indeed, concerned\nwith opposite sides of the same subject; viewed, moreover, from the\nseparate stations of the layman and the divine; and are the expression\nof strongly contrasted modes of thought. Mr. Greg deals principally\nwith the external vehicle of the primitive Christianity; Mr. Thom with\nits internal essence. The one seeks in vain for any outward title in\nthe records to suppress the operations of natural reason; the other\nclears away from the interior every interference with the free action\nof conscience and affection. The one, in the name of science,\ndemolishes the outworks of ecclesiastical logic with which the shrine\nof faith has been dangerously guarded: the other, in the name of\nChrist, expels both priest and dogma from the sanctuary itself. The\none, selecting deep truths from the words of Jesus, would construct\nreligion into a philosophy; the other, with eye upon His person as an\nimage of perfect goodness, would develop it from a sentiment. As all\nopposites, however, are embraced in the circumference of the same\ncircle, so are these works complements of each other. Mr. Greg, in\ncommon with the Catholics and the Unitarians, evidently looks for the\nstrength of Christianity in the Gospels; Mr. Thom, with the majority\nof Protestants, in the Epistles. For want of some mediating harmony\nbetween the two, each perhaps requires some correction: the historical\npicture of Christ saved by the former is but a pale and meagre\noutline; while the Pauline ideal presented by the latter is a glow of\nrich but undefined coloring. Mr. Greg, who, in spite of particular\nerrors, manifests a large knowledge and a masterly judgment in his\ncriticism of the Evangelists, appears to have, in his own sympathies,\nno way of access to a mind like that of Paul, and to be much at fault\nin estimating the place of the Apostle both as a witness and a power\nin the organization of Christian tradition and doctrine. Had the\nacuteness and severity of his understanding been a little more\nqualified by such reflective depth and moral tenderness as Mr. Thom\nbrings to the work of interpretation, his religion, we fancy, would\nhave retained a less slender remnant of the primitive Christianity.\n\nMeasured by the standard of common Protestantism, there can be no\ndoubt that the second of these books would be condemned for heresy,\nand the first for unbelief. These ugly words, however, have been too\noften applied to what is fullest of truth and faith, to express more\nthan a departure, which weak men feel to be irritating, from a\nfavorite type of thought. They have lost their effect on all who are\ncompetent to meditate on the great problems of religion, and are fast\ntaking their place in the scandalous vocabulary of professional\npolemics. It is a thing offensive to _just_ men when divines, who have\nsucceeded in smothering, or been too dull to entertain, doubts which\nrend the soul of genius and faithfulness, and insist on a veracious\nanswer, meet them, not with sympathy, still less with mastery, but\nwith the commonplaces of incompetent pity and holy malediction. And\nthe offence is doubled in the eyes of _instructed_ men, who know the\nstate to which Biblical criticism has brought the theology of the\nReformation. It is notorious that, in the revolt from Rome, the\nScriptures--like a dictator suddenly created for the perils of a\ncrisis--were forced into a position where it was impossible for them\npermanently to repose; that they cannot be treated as infallible\noracles of either fact or doctrine, and were never meant to bear the\nweight of such unnatural claims; that the authority once concentrated\nin them, and held even _against_ the reason and conscience, must now\nbe distributed, and ask their concurrence. These are not questionable\npositions, but so irresistibly established, that learning of the\nhighest order would no more listen to an argument against them, than\nHerschel or Airy to a disquisition against the rotation of the earth.\nWhen a clergyman, therefore, treats them with horror, and denounces\nthem as infidelity, he produces no conviction, except that he himself\nis either ill-informed or insincere. Professional reproaches against a\nbook so manly and modest, so evidently truth-loving, so high-minded\nand devout, as this of Mr. Greg's, are but a melancholy imbecility. We\nmay hold to many things which he resigns; we may think him wrong in\nthe date of a Gospel or the construction of a miracle; we may even\ndissent from his estimate of the grounds of immortal hope and the ways\nof eternal Providence: but we do not envy, and cannot understand, the\nreligion which can feel no thankful communion with thought so\nelevated, and trust so sound and real. No candid reader of the \"Creed\nof Christendom\" can close the book without the secret acknowledgment\nthat it is a model of honest investigation and clear exposition; that\nit is conceived in the true spirit of serious and faithful research;\nand that whatever the author wants of being an ecclesiastical\nChristian is plainly not essential to the noble guidance of life, and\nthe devout earnestness of the affections.\n\nIt is highly honorable to an English layman, amid the pressure of\naffairs, to take up a class of critical inquiries, which the clergy seem\nto have abandoned for a narrower and more passionate polemic. It is a\nremarkable characteristic of the present age, that, when the most\nstartling attacks are made upon the very foundations of existing\nchurches, nobody repels them. Nothing is offered to break their effect,\nexcept the inertia of the mass that rests upon the base assailed. For\nevery great sceptical work of the last century there was some score of\nreputable answers; but half a dozen books of the same tendency have\nappeared within a few years, all of which have been copiously reviewed,\nhave spread excitement over a wide surface, and set an immense amount of\ntheological hair on end, but not one of which has received any adequate\nreply. Yet the slightest of these productions would favorably compare,\nin all the requisites for successful persuasion,--in learning, in\ntemper, in acuteness,--with the best of the last age, excepting only the\nphilosophical disquisitions of Hume and the ecclesiastical chapters of\nGibbon. The first in time,--Hennell's \"Inquiry into the Origin of\nChristianity,\"--though the most open to refutation, was permitted to\npass through an unmolested existence; and its influence, considerable in\nitself, and increased by the sweet and truthful character of the author,\nis still traceable in the pages of Mr. Greg. To the effect of Strauss's\nextraordinary work, the good Neander's _Leben Jesu_ offers but a mild\nresistance, and is itself, through the extent of its concessions, an\nopen proclamation that the problems of theology can never be restored to\nthe state in which all churches assume them to be. Parker was\nexcommunicated by his sect; but his \"Discourse of Matters pertaining to\nReligion\" has walked the course unchallenged, and displayed the splendor\nof its gifts, within the entire lines of the English language. Newman,\nFoxton, and Greg have since entered their names on the _index\nexpurgatorius_ of Orthodoxy; but they also will be simply excluded from\nthe sacred circle of readers bound over not to think; and, beyond this,\nwill make their converts undisturbed, and accumulate fresh charges of\nthreatening power in the intellectual atmosphere which surrounds the\nChurch. Whence this pusillanimous apathy? Is it forgotten that creeds\nalways assailed and never defended are sure to perish? Or is it felt\nthat the defence, to be sound and strong, must be so partial--so limited\nto points of detail--as to promise a mere diversion, instead of a\nrepulse, and be more dangerous than the attitude of passiveness? Or does\nthe Church resignedly give up her hold on the class of earnest,\nintellectual men who cannot degrade religion into a second-hand\ntradition, but must \"know what they worship\"? Certain it is that her\nwhole activity has long abandoned this class, and addressed itself\nexclusively to the narrower and lower order of mind, whose vision is\nbounded by the periphery of a given creed, and whose life is satisfied\nwith the squabbles and the gossip of articles forced into neighborhood,\nbut no longer on speaking terms. If the efficacy of \"holy orders\" is\ncalled in question, streams of sacerdotal refutation flow from the\npress; but if the inspiration of the twelve Apostles is denied, it is a\nthing that neither bishop nor priest will care to vindicate. If a word\nof mistake is uttered about the drops of water on the face of a baptized\nbaby, it conjures up a storm that rolls from diocese to diocese; but if\nyou say that pure religion has no rite or sacrament at all, the\necclesiastic atmosphere remains still as a Quaker's silent meeting. The\ndeepest interest is felt about the origin of liturgies, and the history\nof articles, but nobody heeds the most staggering evidence that three of\nthe Gospels are second-hand aggregations of hearsay reports, and the\nfourth of questionable authenticity. You deny the self-consistency of\nthe Church of England and call it a compromise; and the sudden rustle of\ngowns and sleeves proclaims a great sensation. You analyze the accounts\nof Christ's resurrection; you ask whether they are not discrepant; you\npoint out that, apparently, the oldest record (Mark's) contained, in its\noriginal form, no account of the event at all, and that the others bear\nseeming traces of distinct and incompatible traditions. You cry aloud\nfor help in this perplexity, and hold yourselves ready to follow any\nvestiges of truth; and, except that the creeds are still muttered every\nSunday, all the oracles are dumb. If you want to find the true magic\npass into heaven, scores of rival professors press round you with\nobtrusive supply: if you ask in your sorrow, Who can tell me whether\nthere be a heaven at all? every soul will keep aloof and leave you\nalone. All men that bring from God a fresh, deep nature, all in whom\nreligious wants live with eager power, and who yet are too clear of soul\nto unthink a thought and falsify a truth, receive in these days no help\nand no response. The Church feels its interest, as an _educated_\ncorporation, to consist in overlaying and covering up the foundations of\nfaith with huge piles of curious learning, history, and art, which, by\naffording endless occupation, may detain men from search after the\nliving rock, or notice of the undermining flood. And, as an\n_established_ corporation, she relies on the lazy conservatism of mental\npossession; on the dislike felt by the comfortable classes towards the\ntrouble of thought and the disturbance of feeling, and their usual\nwillingness to hand over these operations to the prayer-book and the\npriest. We are grateful to Mr. Greg for shaking this ignoble and\nprecarious reliance, which he notices in these admirable sentences.\n\n\"A more genuine and important objection to the consequences of our\nviews is felt by indolent minds on their own account. They shrink from\nthe toil of working out truth for themselves out of the materials\nwhich Providence has placed before them. They long for the precious\nmetal, but loathe the rude ore out of which it has to be extricated by\nthe laborious alchemy of thought. A ready-made creed is the paradise\nof their lazy dreams. A string of authoritative, dogmatic propositions\ncomprises the whole mental wealth which they desire. The volume of\nnature--the volume of history--the volume of life--appall and terrify\nthem. Such men are the materials out of whom good catholics of all\nsects are made. They form the uninquiring and submissive flocks which\nrejoice the hearts of all priesthoods. Let such cling to the faith of\ntheir forefathers, if they can. But men whose minds are cast in a\nnobler mould, and are instinct with a diviner life,--who love truth\nmore than rest, and the peace of Heaven rather than the peace of\nEden,--to whom 'a loftier being brings severer cares,'--\n\n      'Who know man does not live by joy alone,\n       But by the presence of the power of God,'--\n\nsuch must cast behind them the hope of any repose or tranquillity,\nsave that which is the last reward of long agonies of thought; they\nmust relinquish all prospect of any heaven, save that of which\ntribulation is the avenue and portal; they must gird up their loins\nand trim their lamp for a work which cannot be put by, and which must\nnot be negligently done. 'He,' says Zschokke, 'who does not like\nliving in the _furnished lodgings of tradition_, must build his own\nhouse, his own system of thought and faith for himself.'\"--p. 242.\n\nThe work of Mr. Greg derives its interest, not from anything in it\nthat will be new to the studious theologian, but from the freshness\nand force with which it presents the results of the author's reading\nand reflection on both the claims and the contents of Scripture.\nAdopting the ordinary notion of \"inspiration,\" as equivalent to a\nsupernaturally provided \"infallibility,\" he reviews and condemns the\nreasonings by which this attribute has been associated with the Bible;\nand decides that the mere discovery of a statement in the Scriptures\nis no sufficient reason for our implicit reception of it. Having\ncleared away this obstacle to all intelligent criticism, he pursues\nhis way, chiefly under the guidance of De Wette, through the earlier\nliterature of the Hebrews; and adds another to the many exposures of\nthe humiliating attempts, on the part of English divines, to reconcile\nthe cosmogony of Genesis with modern science; attempts which we should\ncall obsolete, did we not remember that Buckland and Whewell are both\nliving, and have not yet attained the episcopal bench. Mr. Greg adopts\nthe views of which Baur is the best known recent expositor, but which\nLessing long ago traced out, as to the gradual formation of the Hebrew\nmonotheism; and shows the striking contrast between the family Jehovah\nof the Patriarchs and the universal God of the later Prophets.\nWhatever be the origin of the doctrine of a Messiah, and under\nwhatever varieties it appeared, it never pointed, the author\nconceives, to such a person as Jesus of Nazareth, or such a product as\nthe Christian Church; and it is only by perverse interpretations,\nunendurable out of the field of theology, that any passages in the Old\nTestament can be made out to prefigure the events in the New. In the\nargument, therefore, between the early missionaries of the Gospel and\nthe unconvinced Jews, Mr. Greg maintains that the latter were the more\nfaithful to their sacred books. The phenomena of the first three\nGospels are next examined sufficiently to explain the several\nhypotheses respecting the order and materials of their composition.\nThe author rests on Schleiermacher's conclusion, that a number of\nfragmentary records of incident and discourse formed the groundwork,\npartly common, partly exclusive, of the triple Evangile. He thus\nremoves us, in this portion of the Scriptures, from first-hand\ntestimony altogether; and throws upon internal criticism the task of\ndiscriminating between the original and reliable elements on the one\nhand, and those on the other which did not escape the accidents of\nfloating tradition and the coloring of later ideas. This delicate task\nthe author attempts; and manifests throughout an acquaintance with the\nmethods and models of the higher criticism, fully qualifying him to\nform the independent judgment which he sums up in these words:--\n\n\"In conclusion, then, it appears certain that in all the synoptical\nGospels we have events related that did not really occur, and words\nascribed to Jesus which Jesus did not utter; and that many of these\nwords and events are of great significance. In the great majority of\nthese instances, however, this incorrectness does not imply any want\nof honesty on the part of the Evangelists, but merely indicates that\nthey adopted and embodied, without much scrutiny or critical acumen,\nwhatever probable and honorable narratives they found current in the\nChristian community.\"--p. 137.\n\nThe peculiarities of the fourth Gospel are next dealt with: its apparent\npolemic reference to the gnosis of the first and second centuries; its\nabsence of demoniacs and parables; the length, the mysticism, the dogma\nof its discourses, and their uniformity of complexion with the\nhistorian's own narrative and reflections; the narrowness of its\ncharity, and the apocryphal appearance of its \"first miracle.\" Without\nquestioning the probability that within the contents of this Gospel is\nsecreted a nucleus of facts, Mr. Greg thinks the book so clearly imbued\nthroughout with the writer's idiosyncrasy, as to be inferior in\nhistorical value to the Synoptics; and the discourses of Jesus, in\nparticular, must be regarded as free compositions by the Evangelist. In\nour author's management of this subject there seems to us to be an\nunfavorable change. The style of thought peculiar to John, as well as\nthat characteristic of Paul, lies out of the latitude native to him; and\nwith every intention to be just in his appreciation, he fails, we think,\nto reach the point of sympathy from which the fourth Gospel should be\njudged. The realism of his mind makes him a better critic of the hard\nJudaical element of the Christian Scriptures, with its objective\ndistinctness and its moral beauty, than of the more ideal Gentile\ningredients, where a subjective dialectic traces forms of thought in the\nintense fires of spiritual consciousness.\n\nIn a separate discussion of the question of miracles they are restored\nto the subordinate position, as compared with moral evidence, assigned\nto them by the early Protestant divines. Adopting the position of\nLocke, that \"the miracles are to be judged by the doctrines, and not\nthe doctrines by the miracles,\" he can admit with the less pain his\nconviction, that, even in the instance of the resurrection of Jesus,\nthe historical evidence is too conflicting and uncertain to bear the\nsupernatural weight imposed upon it. He admits, indeed, that Jesus\n_may_ have risen from the dead; the Apostles manifestly believed it;\nand that the marked change in their character and conduct, from\ndespair to triumph, affords the strongest evidence of the sustaining\nenergy of this belief. But, in our ignorance of the grounds of this\nbelief, (the Gospels and book of Acts containing no correct or\nfirst-hand report of the facts,) it is impossible, he conceives, to\nform any rational estimate of their adequacy. In Mr. Greg's decision\non this important point, we see the effect of his entrance on the\nproblem of Christianity from the historical end. If, instead of\naddressing himself first to the Gospels which lie most remote from the\nsource of the religion, and represent the latest and most constituted\nform of the primitive tradition, he had begun with the earliest\nremains of Christian literature, and traced the doctrine of the\nresurrection from the Epistles of Paul into the story of the\nEvangelists, we think he would have arrived at a different conclusion.\nIn dismissing the testimony of Paul as \"of little weight,\" he throws\naway the main evidence of the whole case. We can understand the critic\nwho, having put the miraculous entirely aside, as logically\ninadmissible, makes light of the Pauline statements on this matter,\nand appeals to their writer's openness to impressions of the\nsupernatural in proof of a certain vitiating unsoundness of mind. But\none who, like our author, regards this _\u00e0 priori_ incredulity as an\nunphilosophical prejudice, and upon whose list of real causes, never\nprecluded from possible action, supernatural power finds a place,\ncannot consistently condemn another for believing in concrete\ninstances what he himself allows in the general; and put the Apostle\nout of court, on the plea that we have no evidence but _his assertion_\nof his intercourse with the risen Christ. Is not _his assertion_ the\nonly evidence possible of a subjective miracle? and is there any\nground for restricting supernatural agency to an objective direction?\nNo doubt, facts presented to external perception have the advantage of\nbeing open to more witnesses than one; and if it be deliberately laid\ndown as a canon, that in no case can any anomalous event be admitted\non one man's declaration, we allow the consistency of refusing a\nhearing to the Apostle. But such a rule would only be an example of\nthe futility of all attempts to reduce moral evidence to mathematical\nexpression. Facts of the most extraordinary nature have always been,\nand will always be, received on solitary attestation; and if so, it\nmakes no logical difference whether they be called \"objective,\" or\n\"subjective.\" A man has faculties for apprehending what passes within\nhim, as well as what passes without; nor do we know any ground for\ntrusting the latter which does not hold equally good for the former.\nIf it be said that the reporter of a miracle not only announces what\nhe sees or feels,--which we may accept on his veracity,--but proclaims\nits supernatural source,--which we may repudiate from distrust of his\njudgment,--the remark is perfectly just, only that it applies alike to\n_all_ testimony, and not exclusively to miraculous reports. Our\ndisposition to receive the evidence of a witness assumed to be\nveracious, depends on our having the same preconceptions of causation\nwith himself. In the ordinary affairs of life, this common ground is\nsure to exist, and therefore remains a mere latent condition of\nbelief. But the slowness to admit a miracle arises from the failure of\nthis common ground; and if the hearer reserved in the background of\nhis mind, and in equal readiness for action, the same supernatural\npower to which the witness's assertion refers, he would feel no more\ntemptation to incredulity than in listening to some matter of course.\nThe reluctance to believe, is proof that his store of causation is\nlimited to the natural sphere; and every phenomenon irreducible to\nthis drops away from all hold upon his mind. As there is no such thing\nas a fact perceived without a judgment formed, so is there no belief\nin the attestation of a fact without reliance on the soundness of a\njudgment; and that reliance depends on the hearer having the same list\nof causes in his mind as the witness. If, then, Mr. Greg holds, with\nPaul, that the power exists whence a subjective miracle might issue,\nand if from the nature of the case such miracle must remain a matter\nof personal consciousness, why reject the Apostle's report of his\nexperience? In choosing from among the causes which both parties\nadmit, it cannot be denied that Paul alights upon that which, _if\nthere_, gives the easiest and most certain explanation; and to find a\nsatisfactory origin for his impressions and conduct in natural\nagencies is so difficult, that critics would never attempt it, but to\nescape the acknowledgment of miracle. On his own principles we do not\nsee how our author could excuse himself to the Apostle for rejecting\nhis testimony; which does but communicate, in the only conceivable\nway, that which is allowed to be possible enough, and which best\nclears up the mystery of an astonishing revolution in personal\ncharacter, and in the convictions of an earnest and powerful mind.\n\nThe whole question of miracles, however, loses its anxious importance\nwith those who, like our author, would still, amid their constant\noccurrence, look to other sources for the credentials of moral and\nreligious truth. If anything is positively and incontrovertibly known\nrespecting the Apostles,--and in proportion as we trust the synoptical\nGospels must we allow Mr. Greg to extend the remark to their\nMaster,--it is this: that whatever powers they exercised, and whatever\ncommunications they received, were inadequate to preserve them from\nserious error; and from delivering to the world, as a substantive part\nof their message, a most solemn expectation which was not to be\nfulfilled. This fact, no longer denied by any reputable theologian,\nalone shows that, even in the presence of the highest Christian\nauthority, the natural criteria of reason and conscience cannot be\ndispensed with. In the application of these to the teachings and life\nof Christ, our author finds, if not any truths of supernatural\ndictation, at least the highest object of veneration and affection yet\ngiven to this world.\n\n\"Now on this subject,\" he says, \"we hope our confession of faith will\nbe acceptable to all save the narrowly orthodox. It is difficult,\nwithout exhausting superlatives, even to unexpressive and wearisome\nsatiety, to do justice to our intense love, reverence, and admiration\nfor the character and teachings of Jesus. We regard him, not as the\nperfection of the intellectual or philosophic mind, but as the\nperfection of the spiritual character,--as surpassing all men of all\ntimes in the closeness and depth of his communion with the Father. In\nreading his sayings, we feel that we are holding converse with the\nwisest, purest, noblest Being that ever clothed thought in the poor\nlanguage of humanity. In studying his life, we feel that we are\nfollowing the footsteps of the highest ideal yet presented to us upon\nearth. 'Blessed be God that so much manliness has been lived out, and\nstands there yet, a lasting monument to mark how high the tides of\ndivine life have risen in the world of man!'\"--p. 227.\n\nWe differ altogether from our author in his notion of inspiration, and\nhis reduction of Christianity within the limits of human resource. But\nwe must say, that while there is such an estimate as this of what\nJesus Christ _was_, it is a matter of subordinate moment what is\nthought about the mode in which he _became so_.\n\nBy a process of \"Christian Eclecticism,\" Mr. Greg draws forth from the\nGospels the elements which he regards as characteristic of the\nreligion of Jesus; distinguishing those which make it the purest of\nfaiths from others which appear to him irreconcilable with a just\nphilosophy. The doctrine of a future life is reserved for a separate\ndiscussion; the general result of which we know not how to describe,\notherwise than by saying that the author discards all the evidence and\nyet retains the conclusion. All the arguments, metaphysical and moral,\nfor human immortality, he condemns as absolutely worthless; he\nconfesses that he has no new ones to propose; he affirms that all\nappearances, without exception, proclaim the permanence of death, the\nabsence of any spiritual essence in man, and the absolute sway of the\nlaws of organization; yet, on the report of that very \"soul\" within\nhim, whose existence nature disowns, he holds the doctrine of a future\nexistence by the irresistible tenure of a first truth. We do not\nwonder that the rigor with which Mr. Greg has pushed his principles\nthrough other subjects of thought should relent at this point, and\nrefuse to cast the sublimest of human hopes over the brink of\ndarkness. We respect, as a holy abstinence, his refusal to silence the\npleadings of the inner voice. But we admire his faith more than his\nphilosophy; and are astonished that he does not suspect the soundness\nof a scientific method which lands him in results he cannot hold. No\nscepticism is so fatal,--for none has so wide a sweep,--as that which\ndespairs of the self-reconciliation of human nature; which flings\namong our faculties the reproach of irretrievable contradiction; which\nsets up first truths against deductions, conscience against science,\nfaith against logic. Ever since Kant balanced his Antinomies, and\nemployed the gravitation of _Practical_ reason to turn the irresolute\nscales of the _Speculative_, this unwholesome practice has been\nspreading, of assuming an ultimate discordance between co-existing\npowers of the mind. In the language of rhetoric or poetry, in the\ndiscussion of popular notions on morals and religion, it would be\nhypercritical to complain of the antitheses of understanding and\nfeeling,--sense and soul. But to an exact thinker it must be apparent\nthat an ambidextrous intellect is no intellect at all; and that, were\nthis all our endowment, the life of the wisest would be but a chase\nafter mocking shadows of thought. The following words of our author,\nwith all their tranquil appearance, describe a state of things which,\nwere it real, might well strike us with dismay:--\n\n\"There are three points especially of religious belief, regarding\nwhich intuition (or instinct) and logic are at variance,--the efficacy\nof prayer, man's free-will, and a future existence. If believed, they\nmust be believed, the last without the countenance, the two former in\nspite of the hostility of logic.\"--p. 303.\n\nThis is absolute Pyrrhonism, and though said in the interest of\nreligion, is subversive alike of knowledge and of faith. The pretended\n\"logic\" can be good for very little, which comes out with so suicidal an\nachievement as the _disproof of first truths_. The condition under which\nalone logic can exist as a science is the unity in the human mind of the\nlaws of belief,--a condition which would be violated if any first truth\ncontradicted another in itself, or in its deductions. The moment,\ntherefore, such a contradiction turns up, a consistent thinker will\neither regard it as a mere semblance, and proceed to re-examine his\npremises, and test his reasoning; or he will treat it as real; and then\nit throws contempt on logic altogether, and relegates it into\nimpossibility. In neither case can his reliance incline to the logical\nside. Mr. Greg, however, sticks to his logic whenever, as in the two\ncases mentioned in the foregoing extract, it loudly _negatives_ a point\nof religious belief; and abandons it only where it restricts itself to\ncold and dumb discouragement. A bolder distrust of _his_ logic, and a\nfirmer faith in the logic of nature, would perhaps have harmonized the\ndiffering voices of the intellect and the soul, blending them in a faith\nneither afraid to think nor ashamed to pray.\n\nHad our author been as familiar with the Catholic and Arminian\ndivines, as with the literature of inductive science and Calvinistic\ntheology, he would have known that there is a philosophy from which\nthe religious intuitions encounter no repugnance; and would, at least,\nhave noticed its offer of mediation between Faith and Reason. He is,\nhowever, entirely shut up within the formulas of a different school,\nwhich press with their resistance on his religious feeling in every\ndirection, and produce a conflict which he can neither appease nor\nterminate. With an intellect entirely overridden by the ideas of Law\nand Necessity, no man can escape the force of the common objections to\nany doctrine of prayer, or of forgiveness of sin; and if those ideas\npossess universal validity, the very discussion of such doctrines is,\nin the last degree, idle and absurd. But what if some medi\u00e6val\nschoolman, or some impugner of the Baconian orthodoxy, were to suggest\nthat, though Law is coextensive with outward nature, Nature is not\ncoextensive with God, and that beyond the range where his agency is\nbound by the pledge of predetermined rules lies an infinite margin,\nwhere his spirit is free? And what if, in aggravation of his heresy,\nhe were to contend that Man also, as counterpart of God, belongs not\nwholly to the realm of nature, but transcends it by a certain\nendowment of free power in his spirit? Having made these assumptions,\non the ground that they were more agreeable to \"intuitive\" feeling,\nand not less so to external evidence, than the one-sidedness of their\nopposites, might he not suggest that room is now found for a doctrine\nof prayer? Not that any event bespoken and planted in the sphere of\nnature can be turned aside by the urgency of desire and devotion; not\nthat the slightest swerving is to be expected from the usages of\ncreation, or of the mind; wherever law is established--without us or\nwithin us--there let it be absolute as the everlasting faithfulness.\nBut God has not spent himself wholly in the courses of custom, and\nmortgaged his infinite resources to nature; nor has he closed up with\nrules every avenue through which his fresh energy might find entrance\ninto life; but has left in the human soul a theatre whose scenery is\nnot all pre-arranged, and whose drama is ever open to new\ndevelopments. Between the free centre of the soul in man, and the free\nmargin of the activity of God, what hinders the existence of a real\nand living communion, the interchange of look and answer, of thought\nand counterthought? If, in response to human aspiration, a higher mood\nis infused into the mind; if, in consolation of penitence or sorrow, a\ngleam of gentle hope steals in; and if these should be themselves the\nvivifying touch of divine sympathy and pity, what law is prejudiced?\nwhat faith is broken? what province of nature has any title to\ncomplain? And so, too, (might our medi\u00e6val friend continue,) with\nrespect to the doctrine of forgiveness. If men are under moral\nobligation, and God is a being of moral perfection, he must regard\ntheir unfaithfulness with disapproval. Of his sentiments, the clear\ntrace will be found in the various sufferings which constitute the\nnatural punishment of wrong. These are incorporated in the very\nstructure of the world and the constitution of life; and to\npersistence in their infliction, the Supreme Ruler is committed by the\nassurance of his constancy. They fasten on the guilty a chain which no\npardon will strike off, but which he will drag till it is worn away.\n_Not all_ the divine sentiment, however, is embodied in the physical\nconsequences. Besides this determinate expression of his thought,\nwritten out on the finite world, there is an unexpressed element\nremaining behind, in his infinite nature: on the visible side of the\nveil is the suggestive manifestation; on the invisible, is the very\naffection manifested. There is a personal alienation, a forfeiture of\napproach and sympathy, which would survive though creation were to\nperish and carry its punishments away; and would still cast its black\nshadow into empty space. This reserved sentiment, and this alone, is\naffected by repentance. But it is no small thing for the heart of\nshame to know this. The estrangement lasts no longer than the guilty\ntemper and the unsoftened conscience; and when, through its sorrow,\nthe mind is clear and pure, the sunshine of divine affection will\nburst it again. In this the free Spirit of God is different from his\nbound action in nature. Long after he himself has forgiven and\nembraced again, necessity--the creature of his legislation--will\ncontinue to wield the lash, and measure out with no relenting the\nremainder of the penalty incurred; and he that yet drags his burden\nand visibly limps upon his sin, may all the while have a heart at rest\nwith God. And thus is retribution--the reaping as we have sown--in no\ncontradiction with forgiveness,--the personal restoration.\n\nHow far such modes of thought as these would help to reconcile the\nconflicting claims,--and how they would stand related to Mr. Greg's\nterrible friend, \"Logic,\" we do not pretend to decide. We refer to\nthem only as possible means of escaping--at least of postponing--his\ndesolating doctrine, that intuitions may tell lies; and in support of\nour statement, that his theoretic view lies entirely within the circle\nof a particular school,--a school, moreover, so little able to satisfy\nhis aspirations, that he is obliged to patch up a compromise between\nhis nature and his culture. The curious amalgamation which has taken\nplace in England, of the metaphysics of Calvin with the physics of\nBacon, has produced, in a large class, a philosophical tendency, with\nwhich the distinctive sentiments of Christianity very uneasily\ncombine. The effacing of all lines separating the natural and moral,\nthe limitation of God to the realm of nature, and the subjugation of\nall things to predestination, are among the chief features of this\ntendency, and the chief obstacles to any concurrence between the\nintellectual and the spiritual religion of the age.\n\nIf some of the elements in the early Christianity are too hastily\ncancelled by our author, there is one sentiment whose inapplicability\nto the present day he exposes with an irresistible force;--that\ndepreciating estimate of life which, however natural to Apostles\n\"impressed with the conviction that the world was falling to pieces,\"\nis wholly misplaced among those for whose office and work this earthly\nscene is the appointed place. The exhortations of the Apostles,\n\"granting the premises, were natural and wise.\"\n\n\"But for divines in this day--when the profession of Christianity is\nattended with no peril, when its practice, even, demands no sacrifice,\nsave that preference of duty to enjoyment which is the first law of\ncultivated humanity--to repeat the language, profess the feelings,\ninculcate the notions, of men who lived in daily dread of such awful\nmartyrdom, and under the excitement of such a mighty misconception; to\ncry down the world, with its profound beauty, its thrilling interests,\nits glorious works, its noble and holy affections; to exhort their\nhearers, Sunday after Sunday, to detach their heart from the earthly\nlife, as inane, fleeting, and unworthy, and fix it upon heaven, as the\nonly sphere deserving the love of the loving or the meditation of the\nwise,--appears to us, we confess, frightful insincerity, the enactment\nof a wicked and gigantic lie. The exhortation is delivered and listened\nto as a thing of course; and an hour afterwards the preacher, who has\nthus usurped and profaned the language of an Apostle who wrote with the\nfagot and the cross full in view, is sitting comfortably with his hearer\nover his claret; they are fondling their children, discussing public\naffairs or private plans in life, with passionate interest, and yet can\nlook at each other without a smile or a blush for the sad and\nmeaningless farce they have been acting!... Everything tends to prove\nthat this life is, not perhaps, not probably, our only sphere, but still\nan _integral_ one, and _the_ one with which we are here meant to be\nconcerned. The present is our scene of action,--the future is for\nspeculation and for trust. We firmly believe that man was sent upon the\nearth to live in it, to enjoy it, to study it, to love it, to embellish\nit,--to make the most of it, in short. It is his country, on which he\nshould lavish his affections and his efforts. _Spartam nactus es--hanc\nexorna_. It should be to him a house, not a tent,--a home, not only a\nschool. If, when this house and this home are taken from him,\nProvidence, in its wisdom and its bounty, provides him with another, let\nhim be deeply grateful for the gift,--let him transfer to that future,\n_when it has become his present_, his exertions, his researches, and his\nlove. But let him rest assured that he is sent into this world, not to\nbe constantly hankering after, dreaming of, preparing for, another,\nwhich may or may not be in store for him, but to do his duty and fulfil\nhis destiny on earth,--to do all that lies in his power to improve it,\nto render it a scene of elevated happiness to himself, to those around\nhim, to those who are to come after him. So will he avoid those\ntormenting contests with nature,--those struggles to suppress affections\nwhich God has implanted, sanctioned, and endowed with irresistible\nsupremacy,--those agonies of remorse when he finds that God is too\nstrong for him,--which now embitter the lives of so many earnest and\nsincere souls; so will he best prepare for that future which we hope\nfor, if it come; so will he best have occupied the present, if the\npresent be his all. To demand that we love heaven more than earth, that\nthe unseen should hold a higher place in our affections than the seen\nand familiar, is to ask that which cannot be obtained without subduing\nnature, and inducing a morbid condition of the soul. The very law of our\nbeing is love of life, and all its interests and adornments.\"--pp. 271,\n272.\n\nWith all that is admirable in our author's book, he contemplates the\nwhole subject from a point of view which exhibits it in very imperfect\nlights. He professes to treat of \"The Creed of Christendom.\" Yet, in\nexamining only the canonical Scriptures and the primitive belief, he\ntotally ignores the \"Creed\" of the greater part of \"Christendom,\"\nnamely, of the Catholic Church. For it is only Protestants that\nidentify Christianity with the letter of the New Testament, and settle\neverything by appeal to its contents. According to the older\ndoctrine, Christianity is not a Divine Philosophy recorded in certain\nbooks, but a Divine Institution committed to certain men. The\nChristian Scriptures are not its _source_, but its first _product_;\nnot its charter and definition, but its earliest act and the\nexpression of its incipient thought. They exhibit the young attempts\nof the new agency, as it was getting to work upon the minds of men and\ntrying to penetrate the resisting mass of terrestrial affairs. They\nare thus but the beginning of a record which is prolonged through all\nsubsequent times, the opening page in the proceedings of a Church in\nperpetuity; and are not separated from the continuous sacred\nliterature of Christendom, as insulated fragments of Divine authority.\nThe supernatural element which they contain did not die out with their\ngeneration, but has never ceased to flow through succeeding centuries.\nNor did the heavenly purpose--precipitated upon earthly materials and\nmedia--disclose itself most conspicuously at first; but rather cleared\nitself as it advanced and enriched its energy with better instruments.\nThe sublimest things would even lie secreted in the unconscious heart\nof the new influence, and only with the slowness of noble growths push\ntowards the light; for the noise and obtrusiveness of the human is\never apt to overwhelm the retiring silence of the divine. The\ndisciples, who, when events were before their eyes, and great words\nfell upon their ears, \"understood not these things at the time,\" are\ntypes of all men and all ages; whose religion, coming out in the\nevent, is known to others better than to themselves. A faith,\ntherefore, should be judged less by its first form than by its last;\nand at all events be studied, not as it _once_ appeared, but in the\nentire retrospect of its existence.\n\nNo doubt this doctrine of development is made subservient, in the\nRomish system, to monstrous sacerdotal claims. A priestly hierarchy\npretends to the exclusive custody, and the gradual unfolding, of God's\nsacred gift. But sweep away this holy corporation; throw its treasury\nopen, and let its vested right, of paying out the truth, be flung into\nthe free air of history; gather together no Sacred College but the\ncollected ages; appeal to no high Pontiff but the Providence of\nGod;--and there remains a far juster and sublimer view of the place\nand function of a pure Gospel in the world, than the narrow Protestant\nconception. Christianity becomes thus, not the Creed of its Founders,\nbut the Religion of Christendom, to be estimated only in comparison\nwith the faiths of other groups of the great human family; and the\nsuperhuman in it will consist in this,--the providential introduction\namong the affairs of this world of a divine influence, which shall\ngradually reach to untried depths in the hearts of men, and become the\norganizing centre of a new moral and spiritual life. It is a power\nappointed--an inspiration given--to fetch by reverence a true religion\nout of man, and not, by dictation, to put one into him.\n\nFor this end, it would not even be necessary that the bearers of the\ndivine element should be personally initiated into the counsels whose\nministers they are. _Philosophy_ must know what it teaches; but\n_Inspiration_, in giving the intensest light to others, may have a\ndark side turned towards itself. There is no irreverence in saying\nthis, and no novelty: on the contrary, the idea has ever been familiar\nto the most fervent men and ages, of Prophets who prepared a future\nveiled from their own eyes, and saintly servants of heaven, who drew\nto themselves a trust, and wielded a power, which their ever-upward\nlook never permitted them to guess. Nay, to no one was this conception\nless strange, than to the very man who, in his turn, must now have it\napplied to himself. With the Apostle Paul it was a favorite notion,\nthat the entire plan of the Divine government had been a profound\nsecret during the ages of its progress, and was opening into clear\nview only at the hour of its catastrophe. Not only was there _more in\nit_ than had been surmised, but something utterly _at variance_ with\nall expectation. Its whole conception had remained unsuspected from\nfirst to last; undiscerned by the vision of seers, and unapproached by\nthe guesses of the wise. Never absent from the mind of God, and never\npausing in its course of execution, it had yet evaded the notice of\nall observers; and winding its way through the throng of nations and\nthe labyrinth of centuries, the great Thought had passed in disguise,\nusing all men and known of none. Nor was it only the pagan eye that,\nfor want of special revelation, had been detained in darkness, or\nbeguiled with the scenery of dreams. The very people whose life was\nthe main channel of the Divine purpose did not feel the tide of\ntendency which they conveyed; the patriarchs who fed their flocks near\nits fountains, the lawgiver who founded a state upon its banks, the\npriests whose temple poured blood into its waters, and the prophets at\nwhose prayer the clouds of heaven dropped fresh purity into the\nstream,--all were unconscious of its course; assigning it to regions\nit should never visit, and missing the point where it should be lost\nin the sea. Nay, Paul seems to bring down this edge of darkness to a\nlater time; to include within it even the ministry of Christ and the\nGalilean Apostles; to imply that even they were unconscious\ninstruments of a scheme beyond the range of their immediate thought;\nand that not till Jesus had passed into the light of heaven did the\ntime come for revealing, through the man of Tarsus, the significance\nof Messiah's earthly visit, and its place in the great scheme of\nthings. Paul, in claiming this as his own special function, certainly\nimplies that, previous to his call, no one was in condition to\ninterpret the secret counsels of God in the historic development of\nhis providence. He feels this to be no reflection on his predecessors,\nno cause of elevation in himself; steward as he is of a mighty\nmystery, he is less than the least of all saints. He simply stands at\nthe crisis when a conception is permitted to the world, which even\n\"the angels have vainly desired to look into\"; and though he may _see_\nmore, he _is_ infinitely less than the Prophets and the Messiah whose\nplace it is given him to explain. He is but the interpreter, they are\nthe grand agencies interpreted. He is but the discerning eye, they are\nthe glorious objects on which it is fixed.\n\nIn seeking, therefore, for the _divine element_ in older\ndispensations, the Apostle would assuredly _not_ consult the projects\nand beliefs of their founders and ministers. In his view, the very\nscheme of God was to work through these without their knowing what\nthey were about; to let them aim at one thing while he was directing\nthem to another; to pour through their life and soul an energy which\nshould indeed fire their will and flow from their lips in _their own_\nbest purposes, but steal quietly behind them for _his_; so that what\nwas primary with them was perhaps evanescent with him; while that\nwhich was incidental, and dropped from them unawares, was the seed of\nan eternal good. What Moses planned, what David sung, what Isaiah led\nthe people to expect, was not what Heaven had at heart to execute.\nEven in quest of God's thought in the _Christian_ dispensation, Paul\ndoes not refer to the doctrines, the precepts, the miracles of Jesus\nduring his ministry in Palestine,--to the memorials of his life, or\nthe testimony of his companions. He assumes that, at so early a date,\nthe time had not yet come for the truth to appear, and that it was\nvain to look for it in the preconceptions of the uncrucified and\nunexalted Christ; who was the religion, not in revelation, but in\ndisguise. If, therefore, any one had argued against the Apostle thus:\n\"Why tell us to discard the law? your Master said he came to fulfil\nit. How do you venture to preach to the Gentiles, when Jesus declared\nhis mission limited to the lost sheep of the house of Israel? No\nvestiges of your doctrine of free grace can be found in the parables,\nor of redeeming faith in the Sermon on the Mount\";--he would have\nboldly replied, that this proves nothing against truths that are newer\nthan the life, because expounded by the death, of Christ; that God\nreveals by action, not by teaching; that no servant of his can\nunderstand his own office till it is past; and that only those who\nlook back upon it through the interpretation of events, can read\naright the divine idea which it enfolds.\n\nThis view it was that made the Apostle so bold an innovator, and\nfilled his Epistles with a system so different from that of the\nsynoptical Gospels as almost to constitute a different religion. He\nhad seized the profound and sublime idea that, when men are inspired,\nthe inspiration occupies, not their conscious thought and will, but\ntheir unconscious nature; laying a silent beauty on their affections,\nsecreting a holy wisdom in their life, and, through the sorrows of\nfaithfulness, tempting their steps to some surprise of glory. That\nwhich they deliberately think, that which they anxiously elaborate,\nthat which they propose to do, is ever the product of their human\nreason and volition, and cannot escape the admixture of personal\nfallibility. But their free spontaneous nature speaks unawares, like a\nsweet murmuring from angels' dreams. What they think without knowing\nit, what they say without thinking it, what they do without saying it,\nall the native pressures of their love and aspiration, these are the\nhiding-place of God, wherein abiding, he leaves their simplicity pure\nand their liberty untouched. The current of their reasoning and action\nis determined by human conditions and material resistances; but the\nfountain in the living rock has waters that are divine. If this be\ntrue, then must we search for the heavenly element in the latencies\nrather than the prominencies of their life; in what they _were_,\nrather than in what they _thought to do_; in the beliefs they felt\nwithout announcing; in the objects they accomplished, but never\nplanned. We must wait for their agency in history, and from the fruit\nreturn to find the seed.\n\nIt is not peculiar to Mr. Greg that, in estimating Christianity, he has\nneglected, and even reversed, this principle. All who have treated of it\nfrom the Protestant point of view have done the same. They have assumed\nthat the religion was to be most clearly discerned at its commencement;\nthat the divine thought it contained would be, not evolved, but obscured\nby time, and might be better detected in ideal shape at the beginning of\nthe ages, than realized at the end; that its agents and inaugurators\nmust have been fully cognizant of its whole scope and contents, and set\nthem in the open ground of their speech and practical career. In the\nminds of all Protestants the Christian religion is identified\nexclusively with the ideas of the first century, with the creed of the\nApostles, with the teachings of Christ. The New Testament is its sole\ndepository, in whose books there is nothing for which it is not\nanswerable. The consequence is a perpetual struggle between untenable\ndogma and unprofitable scepticism. The whole structure of faith becomes\nprecarious. If Luke and Matthew should disagree about a date or a\npedigree; if Mark should report a questionable miracle; if John should\nmingle with his tenderness and depth some words of passionate\nintolerance; if Peter should misapply a psalm, and Paul indite mistaken\nprophecies; above all, if Jesus should appear to believe in demonology,\nand not to have foreseen the futurities of his Church,--these detected\nspecks are felt like a total eclipse; affrighted faith hides its face\nfrom them and shrieks; and he who points them out, though only to show\nhow pure the orb that spreads behind, is denounced as a prophet of evil.\nThe peaceful and holy centre of religion is shaken by storms of angry\nerudition. Devout ingenuity or indevout acuteness spend themselves in\nvitiating the impartial course of historical criticism; neither of them\nreflecting, that, if the topics in dispute are open to reasonable doubt,\nthey cannot be matter of _revelation_, and may be calmly looked at as\nobjects of natural thought. It is a thing alike dangerous and unbecoming\nthat religion should be narrowed to a miserable literary partisanship,\nbound up with a disputed set of critical conclusions, unable to deliver\nits title-deeds from a court of perpetual chancery, whose decisions are\nnever final. The time seems to have arrived for freeing the Protestant\nChristianity from its superstitious adhesion to the mere _letter_ of the\nGospel, and trusting more generously to that permanent inspiration,\nthose ever-living sources of truth within the soul, of which Gospel and\nEpistle, the speeches of Apostles and the insight of Christ, are the\npre-eminent, rather than the lonely, examples. The _primitive_ Gospel is\nnot in its form, but only in its spirit, the _everlasting_ Gospel. It is\nconcerned, and, if we look to _quantity_ alone, _chiefly_ concerned,\nwith questions that have ceased to exist, and interests that no longer\nagitate. It often reasons from principles we do not own, and is tinged\nwith feelings which we cannot share. Often do the most docile and open\nhearts resort to it with reverent hopes which it does not realize, and\nclose it with a sigh of self-reproach or disappointment. With the deep\nsecrets of the conscience, the sublime hopes, the tender fears, the\ninfinite wonderings of the religious life, it deals less altogether than\nhad been desired; and in touching them does not always glorify and\nsatisfy the heart. We are apt to long for some nearer reflection, some\nmore immediate help, of our existence in this present hour and this\nEnglish land, where our enemies are not Pharisees and Sadducees, or our\ncontroversies about Beelzebub and his demons; but where we would fain\nknow how to train our children, to subdue our sins, to ennoble our lot,\nto think truly of our dead. The merchant, the scholar, the statesman,\nthe heads of a family, the owner of an estate, occupy a moral sphere,\nthe problems and anxieties of which, it must be owned, Evangelists and\nApostles do not approach. Scarcely can it be said that general rules are\ngiven, which include these particular cases. For the Christian\nScriptures are singularly sparing of general rules. They are eminently\npersonal, national, local. They tell us of Martha and Mary, of Nicodemus\nand Nathaniel, but give few maxims of human nature, or large formulas of\nhuman life: so that their spiritual guidance first becomes available\nwhen its essence has been translated from the special to the universal,\nand again brought down from the universal to the modern application.\nThey are felt to be an inadequate measure of our living Christianity,\nand to leave untouched many earnest thoughts that aspire and pray within\nthe mind. One divine gift, indeed, they impart to us,--the gracious and\nholy image of Christ himself. Yet, somehow, even that sacred form\nappears with more disencumbered beauty, and in clearer light, when\nregarded at a little distance in the pure spaces of our thought, than\nwhen seen close at hand on the historic canvas. It is not that the ideal\nfigure is a subjective fiction of our own, more perfect than the real.\nEvery lineament, every gesture, all the simple majesty, all the deep\nexpressiveness, we conceive to be justified and demanded by the actual\nportraiture: our least hesitating veneration sees nothing that is not\nthere. But the original artists' sympathy we feel to have been somewhat\ndifferent from ours. They have labored to exhibit aspects that move us\nlittle; and only faintly marked the traces that to us are most divine.\nThe view is often broken, the official dress turned into a disguise. The\nlocal groups are in the way; the possessed and the perverse obtrude\nthemselves in front with too much noise; and the refracting cloud of\nprophecy and tradition is continually thrown between. So that the image\nhas a distincter glory to the meditating mind than to the reading eye.\n\nAll this, oftener perhaps felt than confessed, is perfectly natural\nand innocent. It betrays the instinctive analysis by which our own\naffections separate the divine from the human. Paul was right in his\nprinciple, that in history _the divine element lies hid_; is missed at\nthe time, even by those who are its vehicle; and does not parade\nitself in what they consciously design, but lurks in what they\nunconsciously execute. It comes forth at \"the end of the ages,\"--the\nretrospect of fifty generations instead of the foresight of one. This\ndoctrine is true of individuals, in proportion as they are great and\ngood. They labor at what is most difficult to them, and make it their\nend; but their appointed power lies in what is easiest. They chiefly\nprize the beliefs and the virtues most painfully won; but their\nhighest truth dwells in the trusts they cannot help, and their purest\ninfluence in the graces they never willed, or knew to be their own.\nAnd it is true in history; Paul himself signally illustrating the rule\nwhich he had applied to earlier times. He had found, as he supposed,\nthe Providence of the Past, which all had missed, from Moses to\nChrist; but in his turn he missed, as we perceive, the Providence of\nthe Future, from himself to us. The kind of agency which he\nanticipated for Christ bears no resemblance to that which his religion\nhas actually exercised. The only fault we can find with Mr. Thom's\nadmirable exposition is, that he attributes to the Apostle too\ndistinct an apprehension of Christ as an impersonation of _moral\nperfection_; and supposes the purpose of the Pauline Christianity to\nhave been the establishment, as sole condition of discipleship, of\nreverential sympathy with the type of character realized in the\nGalilean life of Jesus. He says:--\n\n\"In contrast with such teachers\" (the Ritual and the Dogmatic), \"St.\nPaul, in our present chapter (1 Corinthians ii.), refers both to the\n_matter_ and the _manner_ of his own ministration of the Gospel. He\ndid not teach it as a _Rhetorician_, to attract admiration to himself,\nand give more lively impressions of Paul the Orator than of Christ the\nRedeemer from sin, nor as a _Philosopher_, to raise doubtful questions\non metaphysical subjects, and become the leader of a speculative\nschool; but as the Apostle of Jesus Christ, he proclaimed to the\nhearts of men the practical and life-giving Gospel, that 'God was in\nChrist reconciling the world unto himself'; that by the universal\nSaviour all distinctions were for ever destroyed, and the whole family\nof God to grow into the common likeness of that well-beloved Son,--for\nthat now neither circumcision availeth anything, nor uncircumcision,\nbut the renewal of the affections after the image of the Lord. Where\ncould an entrance be found for party divisions in a doctrine that\nprofessed nothing, that aimed at nothing, except to awaken the\nconsciousness of sin within the heart, and, through trust in the God\nof holiness and love revealed in Jesus, to lead it to repentance and\nlife? All who felt this love of Christ constraining them, cleansing\ntheir souls by the divine image that had taken possession of their\naffections, and, through the mercy it proclaimed, encouraging their\npenitence to look for pardon from their God, must, of necessity, be\none communion; for this Gospel sentiment and hope could create no\ndivisions amongst those who had it,--and those who had it not were\noutside the Christian pale, and, so far, could make no schisms within\nit. Now, whence comes this Gospel sentiment, this new principle of\nlife? Were there any who had the exclusive power of communicating it?\nDid it require to be introduced by any intricate reasonings, by any\nsubtle dialectics, which only the Masters in philosophy had at their\ncommand? Not so, says St. Paul;--it is a spiritual feeling, excited\nby moral sympathy, as soon as Christ is offered to the hearts that are\nsusceptible of the sentiment;--and in whatever bosom there is not\nenough of the Spirit of God to cause that moral attraction to take\nplace, neither philosophy nor outward forms, nor aught else but the\ndivine image of goodness kept before the heart, can awaken the\nslumbering sensibilities which are the very faculties of spiritual\napprehension, and which, as soon as they are alive, behold in Christ\nthe solution of their own struggling and imperfect existence, their\nideal and their rest. In regard to a sentiment so spiritual, a\nsympathy with the image of God, where is the possibility of\nintroducing party divisions, and violating Christian unity? There can\nbe but two parties,--those that _have_ the sentiment, and those that\nhave it not. All Christians constitute the one,--and as for the other,\nin relation to Christian unity, they are not in question. Such is the\nargument of St. Paul in this second chapter.\"--p. 30.\n\nIt may be quite true that the essential power of Christianity resides\nin the image, ever present to the heart of Christendom, of a God\nresembling Christ, and loving those who aspire to approach him through\nthe same resemblance. But we cannot find any traces of such a\nconception in the writings of Paul. The \"faith\" on which he\nexclusively insisted would be very incorrectly defined, we conceive,\nas a reverence of Christ's character as morally like God. If we may\njudge from the negative evidence of his letters, he appears to have\nhad no insight into the interior of his Master's earthly life, and no\ngreat concern about it. There is an entire absence of any _moral_\npicture of Jesus, who is presented in the Apostolic writings as an\nobject, not of retrospective veneration, but of expectant reliance;\nnot of admiring trust for personal qualities realized in a past\ncareer, but of hope grounded on his official destiny in the future.\n_One_ beauty of his character is, indeed, appealed to in the Pauline\nwritings, viz. his humility and self-renunciation;[54] but even this\nis recognized, not on historical, but on theocratic grounds; it is\nillustrated, not by anything in his life, but by the fact of his\ndeath, conceived as a voluntary postponement of his theocratic\nprerogatives, and an abrogation of his exclusive nationality. He was a\n\"spiritual\" object to the Apostle of the Gentiles, not from perception\nof the inner marks and graces of his spirit, but from his being\ninvisible and immortal, reserved in heaven under external escape from\nthe conditions of earthly life. Mr. Thom's doctrine is a happy\ndevelopment of modern truth from ancient error; but regarded as a mere\ninterpretation, it perhaps sets down to the Apostle's account a just\nmoral appreciation of the past, instead of an erroneous conception of\nthe Providence of the future. The religion of Christ has assuredly\nturned out a very different phenomenon from anything that was\nanticipated at its origin. It was announced as a Kingdom; as the king\ndid not come, it became a Republic. It was conceived as a State; it\ngrew up into a Faith. It was proclaimed as the world's end; it proved\nto be a fresh beginning. It was to consummate the Law and the\nProphets; and it confounded both. It was to cover Pagan nations with\nshame and destruction; it embalmed their literature, and was\ntransformed by their philosophy. It was to deliver over the earth to\nthe pure and severe Monotheism of the Hebrews; which, however, it so\nrelaxed as to provoke Islam into existence to proclaim again the\nmonarchy of God. Its subjects were to be gathered from the Jews and\nhalf-castes of the Eastern Synagogue; and its most signal glories have\nbeen among the Teutonic nations, and the then unsuspected continents\nof the West. In every element of its internal power, in every\ndirection of its external action, it has burst all the proportions,\nleft behind all the expectations, with which it was born; and how can\nwe continue to try it by the standard of its origin? Are we to say,\nthat, having promised one thing and become another, it is not of God?\nThat might be well, if it had _fallen short_ of its own\nprofessions,--disappointed us of dreams it had awakened of glory and\ndelight. But if it has been _far better than its word_; if, instead of\nwinding up the world's affairs, it has given them a new career; if\nfor Messiah's tame millennium we have the grand and struggling life of\nChristendom, and for his closed books of judgment the yet open page of\nhuman history; if for the earthly throne and sceptre of Christ,\nsweeping away the treasures of past civilization, we have his heavenly\nimage and spirit, presiding over the re-birth of art, the awakening of\nthought, the direction of law, and the organism of nations; if from\nthe dignity of outward sovereignty he has been raised to that of Lord\nof the living conscience, not superseding the soul, but exercising it\nwith sorrow and aspiration; then, surely, in so outstripping itself,\nthe religion should win a more exceeding measure of trust and\naffection. Had it only realized its first assurances, we should have\nthought it divine; since it has so much surpassed them, we must esteem\nit diviner. There is no reason for the common assumption that a\nreligion must be purest in its infancy. It is no less surrounded then,\nthan at each subsequent time, with human conditions, and transmitted\nthrough human faculties; and when delivered to the world, embodied in\naction or in speech, necessarily presents itself as a mixed product of\ndivine insight and of human thought,--of the living present and the\ndecaying past; a flash of heavenly fire on the outspread fuel upon the\naltar of tradition. So it is with the Scriptures of the New Testament;\nwhich are not the heavenly source, but the first earthly result and\nexpression of Christianity, and which present the perishable\nconditions as well as the indestructible life of the religion. Only by\nthe course of time and Providence can these be disengaged from one\nanother, and the accidents of place and nation fall away. If there\ndwell in the midst a divine productive element, the further it passes\nfrom the moment of its nativity, the clearer and more august will it\nappear. It is like the seed dropped at first on an unprepared and\nunexpectant ground; which in its earliest development yields but a\nstruggling and scanty growth, but each season, as another generation\nof leaves falls from the boughs, becomes the source, through richer\nnutriment, of fuller forms; till at length, when it has spread the\nfoliage of ages, making its own soil, and deepening the luxuriance of\nits own roots, a forest in all its glory covers the land, and waves in\nmagnificence over continents once bare of life and beauty. So is it\nwith the germ of divine truth cast upon the inhospitable conditions of\nhistory; it is small and feeble in its earlier day; but when it has\nprovided the aliment of its own growth, and shed its reproductive\ntreasures on the congenial mind of generations and races, it starts\ninto the proportions of a Christendom, and becomes the shade and\nshelter of a world.\n\nMuch, therefore, as we value all attempts to illustrate the first\nrecords of Christianity, and to detach what was purely human and\ntransient in its original form, we think that the religion itself\ncannot acknowledge the competency of such investigations to decide\nupon its claims. From a verdict on its _first_ works, it has a right\nto appeal for judgment upon _the whole_. It is the religion, not of\nJohn and Paul alone, but of Christendom; without a comparative\nestimate of whose moral and social genius, it can by no means be\nappreciated. The weakness and inadequacy of all narrower methods of\ndefence will in the end drive the clergy to occupy this larger basis\nof operations. And the change will be not more favorable to the logic\nof their cause than to the charity of their disposition. So long as\nthe Scriptures alone are taken as the standard, no more than one\ncreed, at most, can be regarded as concurrent with the Christian\nfaith. But when the entire existence of the religion through eighteen\ncenturies is adopted as the measure, the very interests of advocacy\nthemselves require that the best construction rather than the worst be\nput upon the errors and eccentricities of all churches within the\ncompass of Christendom. The evidences would, in that case, be\ndestroyed by exclusiveness, and widened in their foundations by\ncomprehensiveness of temper; and the firmness of every disciple's\nfaith and the energy of his zeal would become assurances, not of his\nlimitation of mind, but of his largeness of heart. Instead of endless\ndivisions, multiplied in the search after unity, we might hope to see\nthe lines of separation become ever fainter; and every test of\nChristianity withdrawn except that of moral sympathy with the spirit\nof Christ; a test which, as God alone can apply it, man cannot abuse;\nand according to which many that, in the ecclesiastic roll, have been\nfirst, shall be last, and the last first.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[54] See Philippians ii. 5-11.\n\n\n\n\nTHE ETHICS OF CHRISTENDOM.\n\n    _The Temporal Benefits of Christianity exemplified in its\n    Influence on the Social, Intellectual, Civil, and Political\n    Condition of Mankind, from its first Promulgation to the present\n    Day._ By ROBERT BLAKEY. London. 1849.\n\n    _Small Books on Great Subjects._ Edited by a few Well-Wishers to\n    Knowledge. No. 19. _On the State of Man subsequent to the\n    Promulgation of Christianity._ London. 1851.\n\n    _The Connection of Morality with Religion; a Sermon, preached in\n    the Cathedral of St. Patrick, at an Ordination held by the Lord\n    Archbishop of Dublin, Sunday, September 21, 1851._ By WILLIAM\n    FITZGERALD, A.M., Vicar of St. Ann's, and Professor of Moral\n    Philosophy in the University of Dublin. London. 1851.\n\n\nOf these works, the third treats theoretically, the others practically,\nof the relation of Christianity to human nature. The preacher seeks in\nthe natural conscience for the moral ground and receptacle of\nrevelation; while the historians trace its moral operation in society\nand life. Were both tasks perfectly performed, we should be furnished\nwith a complete image of the religion at once in its idea and its\nexpression; should be able definitely to compare its promise with its\nachievements and to submit it, as a whole, to philosophical\nappreciation. But the two halves of the subject are exhibited with very\nunequal success. It is much easier to show the intended than the actual\ninfluence of the Christian faith upon the character of its\ndisciples,--to determine by _a priori_ methods what it _must be_, than\nby an _a posteriori_ induction to estimate what it _has been_, and is.\nMr. Fitzgerald, as becomes a professor of ethical science, has well\ncontended that the religion which he recommends from the pulpit is\nneither indifferent nor supercilious towards the morals which he teaches\nfrom the University chair,--but assumes their obligation, appeals to\ntheir authority, and, in its mode of reconciling the human will with the\nDivine, raises them into eternal sanctities. It addresses itself to man\nas a being already conscious of responsibility; and simply proposes to\nrestore reason and conscience to that supremacy _in fact_ which _of\nright_ they can never lose. How far has this aim been visibly realized?\nAre the traces of a Divine renovation clear upon the face of\nChristendom? Is there the difference between ancient Greece and modern\nEngland, or between the empire and the papacy of Rome, which might be\nexpected between an unregenerate world and a regenerate? The historical\nanswer to these questions is attempted by Mr. Blakey, with perhaps\nadequate resources of knowledge, but with so imperfect an apprehension\nof the requisites of his argument, that his book, though often\ninstructive in detail, is altogether ineffective as a whole. He is\ncontent to select and enumerate the most salient and favorable points in\nthe transition from ancient to modern civilization, and to set them down\nto the credit of Christianity; without care to disengage the action of\nconcurrent causes, or to balance the account by reference to more\nquestionable effects. A much finer analysis is needed, in order to draw\nfrom history its real testimony on this great matter; and nothing can\nwell be more arbitrary, than to stroll through some fifteen centuries,\nand, gathering up none but the most picturesque and beneficent\nphenomena, weave them into a glory to crown the faith with which they\nco-exist. In Christendom, all the great and good things that are done at\nall will of course be done by Christians, and will contain such share of\nthe religious element as may belong to the character of the actor or the\nage; but before you can avail yourself of them in Christian\nApologetics, it must be shown that, under any other faith, no social\ncauses would have remained adequate either to produce them or to provide\nany worthy equivalent. Because Charlemagne, after baptizing the Saxons\nin their own blood, displayed a better zeal by establishing cathedral\nand conventual schools, _therefore_ to put the horn-book of the liberal\narts into the hand of his religion, while leaving the wet sword to stain\nhis own; because chivalry blended in its vow \"_fear of God_\" with \"love\nof the ladies,\" _therefore_ to trace all loyalty and courtesy to the\ndoctrine of the Church; because the medi\u00e6val schoolmen imported into\nevery science the canons of Divinity, and decided between Realism and\nNominalism on eucharistic principles, _therefore_ to give the priesthood\nall the honors of modern philosophy and intellectual liberty,--is, to\nsay the least, very vulnerable logic and very superficial history. Of a\nfar superior order is the little book \"On the State of Man subsequent to\nthe Promulgation of Christianity.\" In a previous treatise, \"On the State\nof Man _before_ the Promulgation of Christianity,\" the author had passed\nunder rapid review the ancient systems of civilization,--stationary,\nprogressive, aggressive; and having seized on their characteristic\nfeatures, he now brings with him determinate points of comparison into\nhis survey of the post-Apostolic times. The view which he spreads\nbeneath your eye of the world, as it lay ready to afford a channel for\nthe Christian faith, is remarkable for breadth and truth. Conducting\nyou, with the wide picture in your mind, to the pure head-spring in\nGalilee, and keeping close to the stream as it descends and opens from\nthese sequestered heights, he enables you to see, reach by reach, where\nit fertilizes and where it destroys; the new fields of life it enters,\nthe old landmarks of habit it overwhelms. The author is not more\nfamiliar with the Christian Apologists and Fathers, than with the later\nLatin and revived Greek literature from Trajan to Aurelian; and by\nskilfully noting the moments when Pagan and Christian life not only\nstood in silent co-presence, but came into active contact, he brings out\ninto clear relief the new type of character which formed itself within\nthe communities of disciples. That type is so strikingly original, its\nfeatures so conspicuously express an order of passions and ideas strange\nalike to the Hellenic and the Italian races, as to betray the creative\naction of some vast moral power unborrowed from the established\ncivilization. When the free Roman breaks the bread of communion with\nslaves,--when the slippery Syrian forswears lying and theft,--when the\nheedless Greek changes his eagerness of the moment into a living for\neternity,--when a people ignorant of Stoic maxims display a contempt of\ntorture and death sublimer than the ideal of the Porch,--an influence is\nplainly at work which has penetrated to hitherto unawakened depths of\nthe human soul. The phenomenon is the more impressive, when regard is\nhad to the materials from which the early Christian communities were\ngathered. It cannot be imagined that they were composed of elements\nparticularly choice; and, indeed, amid the universal corruption of\nmorals and exhaustion of wholesome life, it is difficult to conceive\nhow, if the Christian doctrine had enforced a rigorous selection,\ninstead of indiscriminately inviting innocence and guilt, any decent\nelements could have been collected. Without adopting Gibbon's\ncontemptuous estimate of the body of primitive believers, we cannot\ndoubt that it comprised very mixed ingredients; we know that it\ncontained great numbers of the servile class, and very few whose station\nand culture gave them access to the higher ideas familiar to the schools\nof philosophy: yet from these unpromising sources arose a society,\nwhich, in severity of morals, in intensity of affection, in heroism of\nendurance, reversed the habits of the world to which they belonged. It\nseems to us an idle question for sceptical criticism to raise, whether\nthe religion of Christ comprised in its teachings any ethical element\nabsolutely new. If genius had conceived it all before, life had not\nproduced it till now; and the more you affirm the philosophers'\ncompetency to think it, the more do you convict them of inability to\nrealize it. But in morals scarcely _can_ there be clear intellectual\nconception of principles not yet embodied in living character. As in the\nhighest works of art, the thing seen is far other than the thing\nimagined and described; not doctrines, but persons, are here the only\nexpression of the truth; and till they appear, ethical forms are but as\nthe human clay without the vital fire. In the _statement_ of thought,\nthe early Christians, not excepting the Scripture writers, are rude and\nunskilled; and a taste formed from the study of Plato and Seneca may be\noffended by the rusticity of Mark, and the abruptness of Paul. But\nwhoever can rise above the level of a merely intellectual critique, and\nembrace, with our anonymous author, the _whole_ phenomenon of the first\ncenturies of our era, will see a glow of self-denying faith, and a deep\nmovement of conscience, affording manifest announcement of a new edition\nof human nature.\n\nThat edition has now been extant for many centuries; and is variously\nlegible in the literature, the institutions, the private manners of\nChristendom. The Christian ideal of human life lies as an open book\nbefore us; yet as a book so various in its versions, and so overlaid\nwith comments, that the fresh flavor of its language, and even the finer\nessence of its thought, are in danger of being lost. The actual\nChristianity of each successive age, and each contemporary nation, is\nthe express result, not only in its dogma, but in its life, of two\ncomponent terms,--a given _matter_, and a given _faculty_ of faith.\nHowever full and constant the former may be in itself, the latter is\nperpetually variable with the knowledge and passions of the time, and\nthe special genius of individual leaders; nor can this variation of\ninsight in the mind fail to neutralize some portion of truth, and to\ngive disproportionate magnitude to others. The data supplied by\ninspiration itself form no exception to this rule. Delivered into the\ncharge of the human soul, they fall into the moulds of its recipient\nnature, take their immediate form from the laws of its life, and are\nreacted on from its independent activity. The _immutable_ custody of\nanything by a finite thinking subject, involves the most evident\ncontradiction; the very contact with human intelligence reduces\nuniversal truth to partial, the permanent to the variable, the secure to\nthe contingent. It is only in the essential Unity of Reason and\nConscience in every age, that we find the means of correcting the\naberrations and verifying the insight of all particular men. Not that we\nare to conceive of the human race collectively as one large person, of\nwhich individual minds are vital organs, and which has a necessary\ngrowth and development, entitling each century to boast of advance\nbeyond its predecessors. We know of no spiritual units, of no\npersonalities, except each single and separate will; nor do we find\nanything in their mutual relation which necessarily determines them to\nuninterrupted improvement, and excludes the encroachment of degeneracy\nand falsehood. Indeed, no sorrier product is there of human conceit and\nignorance than the cant of \"progress,\" which assumes that every newest\nphase of thought is wisest. But if all men are endowed with radically\nthe same faculties, however various in their intensities and\nproportions, there is a court of appeal in permanent sitting, where the\nnormal laws of intellectual and moral apprehension are administered\nagainst all provincial prejudices and transient verdicts of error. In\nthe long run, the healthy perceptions of good eyes will outvote the\ndiscoloring effects of all ophthalmic epidemics, how obstinate and wide\nsoever they may be. And the moral vision of mankind will no less\nvindicate its natural rights, by returning again and again into clear\ndiscernments, and settled admirations, and discharging the illusory\nforms and false tints of each separate age. To deny the ethical\ncompetency of the mind for this office,--to say that there is no power\ngiven for deciding what, among the claimants on reverence, is really\nnoble, true, and good,--is, with all its pietistic pretences, an act of\nthe profoundest scepticism, washing away, as a quicksand, the only rock\non which any faith can be built. It is to treat the durable source of\ntruth as evanescent and uncertain, and shut out the possibility of all\nreligion. On the other hand, to set up and idolize the life and thought\nof any one time as an unquestionable rule for all times, and stereotype\nit for unmodified reproduction, is to treat the evanescent as the\ndurable, and build on whatever stands above the water, heedless whether\nit be the quicksand or the rock. Yet, strange to say, this particular\nsuperstition, and that general unbelief,--an apparent antithesis of\nerror,--usually meet in the same mind, and constitute together the chief\ntheology of most visible churches. Having deposed and insulted the\neternal sanctities, they coax and flatter the letter of Scripture to\naccept the vacant throne, and exchange the holy modesty of its\nadministration for a universal empire of pretence. They drain off the\nsprings of inspiration at their fountain-head, and turn all history into\na plain of sand, that they may magnify their Hebrew reservoir as the\nworld's sole supply; forgetting that, when cut off from the running\nwaters, the choicest store loses its fresh virtues, and the fairest\nlake, shut up without exit, turns into a Dead Sea. In contradiction of\nboth errors, we shall assume that transitory elements cannot fail to mix\nthemselves with the expression of the purest inspiration,--the horizon\nof human relations and expressible things around even the divinest soul\nbeing limited; and that, as the inspiration tries itself upon age after\nage, bringing into distinct consciousness now one side of truth and now\nanother, it becomes more and more possible to find its essence and\neliminate its accidents, to save its catholic beauties apart from its\nsectional distortions. The Christian ideal of life is not to be looked\nfor in what is special to the Crusader or the Quaker,--to Puritan or\nCavalier,--to Platonists of the second century or Aristotelians of the\ntwelfth,--to Aquinas or Luther,--to John or Paul; but in such sentiment\nas was common to them all, and attached to them as citizens of\nChristendom. When this element is disengaged from all that encumbers it,\nit will be found pervading and animating still whatever is noblest in\nour modern life; while all that is narrow, and weak, and unworthy in the\nmoral doctrine of our age, springs from a forced attempt to perpetuate\nthe accidental modes of the Apostolic period.\n\nEvery one is sensible of a change in the whole climate of thought and\nfeeling, the moment he crosses any part of the boundary which divides\nChristian civilization from Heathendom; yet of nothing is it more\ndifficult to render any compendious account. It is easy to enumerate in\ndetail the phenomena which are modified or disappear; just as on\nentering a new physical region the travelling naturalist may register\nthe new species of plants and animals, that, one after another, present\nthemselves to his research. But these do not paint the scene before even\nthe learned eye; they are the separate out-comings of a great\nlife-thrill, into whose current their roots penetrate; the landscape, as\na whole, speaks differently to the mind, and the whole heaven and earth\nseem pregnant with a thought unfelt before. To read off that thought,\nrequires an apprehension the converse of the analytic vision of science.\nThe same difficulty occurs when we endeavor to seize the latent\nprinciple of a natural realm of history. Such principle, however, there\nmust be. Beneath all the moving tides of Christian thought there lie\nstill depths that supply them all, and a centre of equilibrium around\nwhich they sweep. We believe that the fundamental idea of Christendom\nmay be described to be _the ascent through Conscience into communion\nwith God_. Other religions have lent their sanctions to morality, and\nannounced the Divine commands to the human will; but only as the laws of\nan outward monarch within whose sovereignty we lie, and who, ruling in\nvirtue of his almightiness, has a right to obedience, ordain as he will.\nOther religions, again, have aimed at a union with God. But the\nconditions of this union, dictated by misleading conceptions of the\nDivine nature, have missed on every side the true level of human dignity\nand peace. Manich\u00e6ism, deifying the antithesis of matter, takes the path\nof ascetic suppression of the body. The Indian Pantheist, imagining the\nDivine Abyss as the realm of night and infinite negation, strives to\nhold in the breath and sink into self-annulment. Plato, seeing in God\nthe essence of thought, demands science and beauty, not less than\ngoodness, as the needful notes of harmony with him, and appoints the\napproach to heaven by academic ways. The modern Quietists, worshipping a\nBeing too much the reflection of their own tenderness, have lost\nthemselves in soft affections, relaxing to the nerves of duty, and\nunseemly in the face of eternal law. Christianity alone has neither\ncrushed the soul by mere submission, like Mohammedanism; nor melted it\naway in the tides of infinite being, like Pantheistic faiths; but has\nsaved the good of both, by establishing the union with God through a\nfree act of the individual soul. Assigning to him a transcendent moral\nnature, sensitive to the same distinctions, conservative of the same\nsolemnities, which awe and kindle us, it singles out the conscience as\nthe field where we are to meet him,--where the bridge will be found of\ntransit between the human and the divine. No fear or servility remains\nwith an obedience consisting, not in mystic acts and artificial habits,\nbut in the free play of natural goodness; and rendered, not in homage to\na Supreme Autocrat, but in sympathy with a Mind itself the infinite\nimpersonation of all the sanctities. Nor are any dizzy and perilous\nflights incurred by a devotion which meets its great Inspirer in no\nforeign heaven, but in the higher walks of this home life, and misses\nhim only in what is mean and low. The place assigned in Christianity to\nthe _moral_ sentiments and affections has no parallel in any other\nreligion. The whole faith is as an unutterable sigh after an ideal\nperfection. Holiness eternal in heaven, incarnate on earth, and to be\nrealized in men,--this is the circle of conceptions in which it moves.\nIts very name for the Inspiration which mediates all its work, expresses\nthe same thing. It is not simply an \u03b5\u03bd\u03b8\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9\u03b1\u03c3\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2,--not \u03bc\u03b1\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1,--not\n\u03b2\u03b1\u03ba\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\u03b1,--but the \u03c0\u03bd\u03b5\u03c5\u03bc\u03b1 \u1f01\u03b3\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd. The D\u00e6mon of Socrates--the least\nheathenish of heathen men--was but an intellectual guide, and checked\nhis erring judgment; the Holy Spirit guards the vigils of duty, and\nsuccors the disciple's tempted will. This profound sense of interior\namity with God through faithfulness to our highest possibility, appears\nin the Christian Scriptures under two forms,--the positive and the\nnegative,--each the complement of the other. In the Gospel, Jesus\nhimself, as befits the saintly mind lifted above the strife of passion,\ndescribes the _aspiration after goodness_ as the native guidance of the\nsoul to her source and refuge. In the Epistles, Paul, pouring forth the\nconfessions of a fiery nature, proclaims the _sense of sin_ to be the\ncontracted hinderance that bars the ascent, and against which the wings\nof the struggling will beat only to grow faint. These representations\nare evidently but the two sides of the same doctrine seen from the\nheavenly and from the earthly position. Whether we are told what the\ngood heart will find, or what the guilty must lose, the lesson equally\nrecognizes the Divine authority of conscience. The benediction and the\ncurse are but the bright and the dark hemisphere of one perfect truth.\nThe Apostle, standing in the shadow of the world's night, and regarding\nits averted face, dwells on the gloom of alienation,--the \"foolish heart\nthat is darkened,\"--the \"reprobate mind\" from which God is hid. Christ,\nconscious of the holy light, and knowing how it penetrates the folds of\nwilling natures, and wakes what else would sleep, speaks rather of the\nglory that is not denied, and utters that deepest of blessings,--\"The\npure in heart shall see God.\" To this bright side also the Pauline view\nin the end comes round. For though in him we miss that recognition of a\nnatural human goodness which gives such grace and sweetness to many of\nthe parables; though in his scheme the human will has not only betrayed\nits trust, but hopelessly crippled its powers; yet he does not leave it\nin the collapse of paralysis, with the hard saying that it can in no\nwise lift up itself, but points to a hope that bends over it from above.\nThe soul that is too far gone to act, may still be capable of love; if\nunable to trust itself, it may trust another; if it cannot command its\nvolitions, it may surrender its affections; can reverence, can aspire,\ncan yield its hand, like a child, to an angel of deliverance. Beyond the\nprecincts of this world is an Image of divine excellence and\nbeauty,--one recently withdrawn from human history, and soon to have a\nmore august return. It is but to turn the eye and give the heart to that\nideal and immortal perfection, and in the light of so pure a love, the\nclouds will clear from the conscience, and lift themselves as a\nnightmare away; the lame will, forgetting its infirmities, will spring\nup and walk; and the restoration, impossible by flight from deformity\nand ill, will come through the attraction of a Divine sanctity and\ngoodness. Thus does the Apostle snatch the disciple at last into the\nright perceptions which Christ assumes to be possible at first; and in\nboth its primitive developments the Christian religion implies the\ncommunion of man with God through purity of heart.\n\nTo this sentiment, conveyed with living realization in the person of\nJesus Christ, may be referred whatever is distinctively great in\nChristian ethics. Proposing, as an end within their reach, the ascent of\nthe soul to a divine life, and as the means, a simple surrender to its\nown highest intimations, they have melted away the interval between\nearthly and heavenly natures,--not by humanizing God, but by\nconsecrating man. In treating the lower desires of sense and self as the\nsteams that intercept, the tender reverences as the clear air that\ntransmits, the light of lights, they have struck the deepest truth of\nhuman consciousness. Hence the temper of aspiration,--the earnest\nideality,--the sense of infinite want, with faith in infinite\npossibilities,--the sorrowful unrest in the present, with irrepressible\nstruggle for a better future,--which are impressed on the poetry, the\nart, the social life of Christendom. Unlike the expression of the\nHellenic mind, they are rather a prayer for what might be, than a joy in\nwhat is. Hence, too, the predominance of the psychological and\nsubjective element in the philosophy of modern times, and the conversion\nof the ancient \"metaphysics\" into the form of \"mental science.\" Man\nwould never have ceased to be merged in nature, and registered merely as\na part of its contents; his self-knowledge would not have vindicated its\nindependent rights; his mind would not have been recognized as the court\nof record for the moral legislation of the universe,--had not his\nreligion taken him deep into himself, and from a new point shown him his\nrelation to all else; kindling his own consciousness to a point of\nintense brilliancy, in correspondence with a divine centre, which must\nbe sought on the same axis of being,--like the two determining foci of\nan infinite curve, that find each other out, while the realm of\ndetermined nature lies around, as the configured area, or the bounding\ncurve. Of the external world, indeed, _too_ little account has been made\nin the faith of Christians. They have not cared to recognize it as the\nshrine of immanent Deity;--have stood in uneasy relations to it; often\ninimical to it; sometimes trying to get rid of it as an illusion;\nusually regarding it as a foreign object, like a great statue on the\nstage of being, with only stony eyes and ears for the real play of\npassions that whirl around. Existence, in its essence, has been felt as\nan interview between man and God, at which space and nature have been\ncollaterally present, but in which it was not apparent what they had to\ndo. Physical science and the plastic arts may have reason to complain of\nthe depressing influence of this imperfect view, and of the hard\nnecessity under which it places them of pursuing their ends with only\nscanty and grudging recognition from religion. But, for the philosophic\nknowledge of human nature, and the practical regulation of human\nsociety, this isolation of the soul within its own consciousness,--this\nconcentrated personality,--this vivid interchange of life with God\nwithout diffusion through benumbing media,--must be held eminently\nennobling.\n\nIf, from the fundamental Christian sentiment, we descend to the scheme\nof _Applied Morals_ which it organized and inspired, the principle\nstill vindicates itself in its results. The great problems of life are\nsupplied from two sources,--the _Persons_ that may engage our\naffections, and the _Pursuits_ that may invite our will. The light in\nwhich the _personal_ relations are presented before the eye of\nChristendom is undeniably benign and true. It has never been obscured\nwithout the social spread of injustice and discontent; nor ever\ncleared again, but as the precursor of reformation. That every human\nsoul has its sacred concerns and its divine communion, is the simplest\nof thoughts; but so deep and moving, that, where it is received and\nacknowledged, it calls up angelic virtues; where it is insulted and\ndenied, it lets slip avenging fiends. Wherever it is sincerely held,\nit secures that reverential feeling towards others, beneath whose\nspell the selfish passions sleep, and without which the precept of\ncourtesy and the definition of rights are an ineffectual form. Power\nloses its insolence, and dependence its sting, where their mutual\nrelation does not carry the whole individuality with it, but stops\nwith the limits of social and political convenience, and lies under\nthe restraining protection of a supreme equality before God. The\n\"Fraternity\" that is the offspring of political theories, and aims to\nneutralize by fellow-citizenship the diversities and antipathies of\nnature, is often the watchword of envy and egotism, shouted by the\nvoice of hatred, and announcing the deed of violence. It is for want\nof faith in that highest brotherhood of worship and responsibility\nwhich Christianity assumes, that impatient schemes are formed for\nartificially equalizing the weak and the strong, and abolishing the\nrelations of necessary dependence. Nor, where that faith is absent,\ncan they ever be answered so as to satisfy the _feeling_ from which\nthey spring. They may be shown to be impracticable, and crushed by the\nrelentless argument of fact; but the fact will be protested against as\nunnatural, and the impossibility will seem a cruelty. How differently\nis this topic handled by the logic of science and the sentiment of\nreligion! How much less justly does the former draw the line between\nnatural subordination among men and tyrannous oppression, than the\nlatter! Aristotle undertakes the defence of slavery on grounds both of\nphilosophy and of experience. Nature, he contends, pursuing a definite\nend in every act of creation, assigns to some things, from their very\norigin, a destiny to rule, while imposing on others a necessity of\nbeing ruled. Wherever a plurality of parts concur to form a general\nwhole, dominant and subordinate elements present themselves. Even\nwithin the inanimate realm this is apparent, as in the case of harmony\nin music. But it is chiefly conspicuous in the sphere of animal\nexistence; the body being, by nature, servitor, of which the soul is\nlord. In the highest stage of animate being, the constitution of\nwell-organized men, this law comes into the clearest light; for here\nthe soul sways the body with absolute command, while reason exercises\nover the passions the prerogatives of a royal and constitutional\npower; and were equality to be substituted for these modes of\nsubjection, mischief would ensue on all sides. Not less evidently does\nNature announce the dependence of inferior on superior in the rank\nallotted to the brutes in relation to man; and again, in the case of\nthe two sexes, of which the male, as the more distinguished, is\nrendered dominant. The same necessary law adjusts the positions of\nmankind _inter se_. All those who are as intrinsically inferior to\ntheir neighbors as the body to the soul, or the brute to the\nman,--(and this is precisely the case of the mere manual\nlaborer,)--are slaves by nature; and for them, as for the body and the\nbrutes, it is better to be servile than to be free. Any man who can be\nmade property of by another, and who is competent to understand a\nmaster's intelligence without a spontaneous stock of his own, is\nnaturally a slave. Such a one performs functions in the world not\nessentially distinguished from those of the domestic animals; the\ndestiny of both is to contribute their corporeal energies to the\nservice of society; and creatures fit for this alone are brought into\nthe slave-market by Nature herself. Consistently with this conception\nof the laborer as a _living tool_ (\u03b4\u03bf\u03c5\u03bb\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b5\u03bc\u03c8\u03c5\u03c7\u03bf\u03bd \u03bf\u03c1\u03b3\u03b1\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd), Aristotle\nlays it down that the relation of master and slave admits no rights,\nand excludes friendship. To our modern worshippers of strength, this\nwill appear commendable doctrine, very much because they have\nthemselves relapsed into the old Hellenic way of studying the problems\nof the universe; descending, in the Pantheistic method, from the whole\nupon the parts; fetching rules from the wider sphere (therefore the\nlower) to import into the narrower; entering the human world from the\nphysical,--the \u03bf\u03b9\u03ba\u03bf\u03c5\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03b7 from the \u03ba\u03bf\u03c3\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2; approaching society as a\nspecialty superinduced on a groundwork of nomadic barbarism; and\ndetermining the functions of the individual as member of the vital\norganism of the state. So long as this logical strategy is allowed,\nthe Titans will always conquer the gods; the ground-forces of the\nlowest nature will propagate themselves, pulse after pulse, from the\nabysses to the skies; and right will exist only on sufferance from\nmight. But there is a heaven, after all, which the most trenchant\ngiant cannot storm, and where justice and sanctity reserve a quiet\nthrone. Without disputing the inequality of gifts and consequent law\nof natural ranks, religion qualifies it by an addition which\noverarches and absorbs it. Were man only the choicest, most\nintelligent, most gregarious of the mammalia,--were the theory of his\naffairs a mere extension of natural history,--we might reasonably\ndiscuss, in Aristotle's way, the conditions under which he may fitly\nbe put in harness. But there is in him an element that takes him\nbeyond the range of a Pliny or a Cuvier, that lifts him out of the\nkingdom of nature and gives him kindred with the preternatural and\ndivine. He is not simply an instrument for achieving a given fraction\nof a universal end, but has a sacred trust which, on its own account,\nhe is empowered and commissioned to discharge. He is watched by the\neyes of infinite Pity and Affection, braced for his faithful work,\nsuccored in his fierce temptations. The conditions of dutiful, loving,\nnoble life must be preserved to him. Let his task, indeed, be suited\nto his powers; and if he cannot rule, by all means let him serve; but\nstill with a margin and play of spiritual freedom secure from\nencroachment and contempt. Those on whom Heaven lays the burden of\nduty no power on earth may strip of rights. The conscience with which\nthe Highest can commune, the spirit which is not too mean for His\nabode, can be no object of slight and scorn from men. By law and usage\nyou may have the disposal of another's lot and labor; but in the\nreality of things the lord of a province may be less than the\nconqueror of a temptation. You may be Greek, and he barbarian; but in\nthe heraldry of the universe, the blood of Agamemnon is less noble\nthan the spirit of a saint. In thus snatching the individual, as\nbearer of a holy trust, from the crush of nature and the world,\nChristianity became the first _human_ religion,--that absolutely took\nno notice of race and sex and class. It created a new order of\ninalienable rights, neither the heritage of birth, nor the franchise\nof a state, but inherent in the moral capabilities of a man. The free\nopening of sanctity and immortality to every willing heart could not\nfail to exercise an intense influence on the better portion of a\nworld, like the declining empire of Rome, sickened with corruption and\nconfused with unmanageable oppressions. That it did so, is proved by\nthe whole tenor of the early Christian literature; and the effect is\nwell described and accounted for by the writer \"On the State of Man\nsubsequent to the Promulgation of Christianity.\"\n\n\"The mockery of adoring as gods the licentious tyrants who had\noccupied the imperial throne, seems to have put an end to everything\nlike religious feeling among the nations under the sway of Rome. The\nfree satire of Lucianus shows how completely it had faded away, for it\nintroduces the gods of Olympus complaining that they were starving for\nlack of offerings; not altogether because Christian or philosophic\ndoctrines prevailed widely, but rather on account of the total\nindifference of the people to their ancient mythology; for even if it\never had symbolized the truth, its meaning was now forgotten; and,\neven so far back as the time of Cicero, had become totally\nunintelligible to the learned, as well as to the multitude. It was\nuseless, therefore, and wanted but a slight impulse from without to\noverthrow it. But to the philosopher who was in earnest in his pursuit\nof this truth, buried under the rubbish of time, the doctrine of\nChrist afforded it; there he found all that the master minds whom he\nhonored had taught and hoped; but he found it simplified, purified,\nand confirmed by sanctions such as Plato had wished for, but scarcely\ndared to expect;--to the Roman patrician, if any there were who still\nlooked back with fond memory to the purer morals and stern courage of\nhis forefathers, the Christian simplicity of manners and firm\nendurance of torture and death was the realization of what he had\nheard of and admired, but scarcely seen till then;--to the slave,\nsighing under oppression and condemned to homeless bondage, the\ndoctrine of the Gospel gave all that was valuable in life; the\nChristian slave was the friend of his Christian master, partook of the\nsame holy feast, shared the same painful but glorious martyrdom; he\nwas raised at once to all his intellectual rank, found freedom beyond\nthe grave, and lived already in a happy immortality;--to the woman,\ndegraded in her own eyes no less than in those of the tyrant to whose\nlusts she was the slave, it offered a restoration to all that is most\ndear to the human race; it offered intellectual dignity, equality\nbefore God, purity, holiness. The Christian woman could die; she could\nnot, therefore, unless consenting to it, be again enslaved to the vile\npassions of men; before God she was free, and with Him she trusted to\nfind shelter when the hard world left her none. Can we wonder, then,\nthat Christianity found votaries wherever a mind existed that sighed\nafter better things? for the preacher of Nazareth had at last\nexpressed the thought which had been brooding in the minds of so many,\nwho had found themselves unable to give it utterance.\"--p. 55.\n\nNor was it merely within the pale of the Christian fraternity that\nrelations of mutual reverence and tenderness attested the power of an\nennobling faith. Intensity of internal combination is often balanced,\nin religious brotherhoods, by vehemence of external repugnance; and\nwere we to accept the fiery declamation of Tertullian as fairly\nexpressing the spirit of his fellow-believers, we could ill defend\nthem from the charge of fierce antipathy to the persons as well as the\ncreed of their Pagan neighbors. But many silent mercies appear which\ncontradict this loud intolerance. When the Decian persecution and its\nattendant tumultuary movements had filled Alexandria with such\nslaughter as to breed pestilence from the bodies of the dead, the\nChristians, instead of sullenly permitting the physical calamity to\navenge their cause, assumed the duties of public nurses, and performed\nthe loathsome tasks from which priests and magistrates had fled.\nReferring to this occasion, the author just cited says:--\n\n\"The plague made its appearance with tremendous violence, and\ndesolated the city, so that, as Dionysius, the Christian bishop,\nwrites, there were not so many inhabitants left of all ages, as\nheretofore could be numbered between forty and seventy. In this\nemergency the persecuted Christians forgot all but their Lord's\nprecept, and were unwearied in their attendance on the sick; many\nperishing in the performance of this duty by taking the infection. 'In\nthis way,' says the bishop, with touching simplicity, 'the best of the\nbrethren departed this life; some ministers, and some deacons,' the\nheathens having abandoned their friends and relations to the care of\nthe very persons whom they had been accustomed to call 'Men-haters.' A\nlike noble self-devotion was shown at Carthage when the pestilence\nwhich had desolated Alexandria made its appearance in that city, and,\nI quote the words of a contemporary, 'All fled in horror from the\ncontagion, abandoning their relations and friends as if they thought\nthat by avoiding the plague any one might also exclude death\naltogether. Meanwhile the city was strewed with the bodies, or rather\ncarcasses of the dead, which seemed to call for pity from the\npassers-by, who might themselves so soon share the same fate; but no\none cared for anything but miserable pelf; no one trembled at the\nconsideration of what might so soon befall him in his turn; no one did\nfor another what he would have wished others to do for him. The bishop\nhereupon called together his flock, and setting before them the\nexample and teaching of their Lord, called on them to act up to it. He\nsaid, that if they took care only of their own people, they did but\nwhat the commonest feeling would dictate; the servant of Christ must\ndo more; he must love his enemies, and pray for his persecutors; for\nGod made his sun to rise and his rain to fall on all alike, and he who\nwould be the child of God must imitate his Father.' The people\nresponded to his appeal; they formed themselves into classes, and\nthose whose poverty prevented them from doing more gave their personal\nattendance, while those who had property aided yet further. No one\nquitted his post but with his life.\"--p. 162.\n\nThis self-devotion in times of distress, strangely contrasting with\nhabits and temper apparently unsocial, has too steadily reappeared in\nevery earnest church not to be accepted as a Christian characteristic.\nDuring the fatal famine and epidemic which desolated Antioch in the\nthird century, the Pagan governor, when urged by the inhabitants to\nmake authoritative arrangements for relieving the sufferings of a\nperishing populace, replied that \"The gods hated the poor\"; while the\nChristians, prevailingly poor themselves, plunged into the centre of\nthe danger, and carried into the recesses of fever and despair the\nquiet presence of help and hope. If disciples have thus freely\nrendered to \"those without\" services which Pagans refused to one\nanother, it is not simply in stiff obedience to a precept of love to\ntheir enemies, but from a heart-felt sentiment of honor for human\nnature and consequent tenderness of human life. There was no man who,\nthough he might be a persecutor to-day, might not be a comrade\nto-morrow; he had a soul susceptible of consecration; and day and\nnight the gates of the Church were ready to fly open to the touch of\npenitence; and whether he throws off the mask of delusion or not, he\nmust be treated as a brother in disguise. Only by reference to this\nconception of all men as possible subjects of sanctifying change, can\nthe fact be explained, that even where the creed has opened an\ninfinite gulf between believer and unbeliever, the active charities\nhave detained in lingering embrace the persons whom the theoretic\nfancy has flung into the ultimate horrors. A religion that is superior\nto the external distinctions of lineage and class, and draws its lines\nonly by the invisible coloring of souls, must ever be a religion open\nto hope, and therefore apt to love. Even where the severest doctrine\nof exclusion has prevailed, the fundamental sentiment of Christian\nfaith has saved the heart from the most withering of all\npassions,--the blight of _scorn_. Human nature may appear beneath the\neye of an austere believer in an _awful_, but never in a\n_contemptible_ light. The very crisis in which it is suspended can\nbelong to no mean existence. What it has lost is too great a glory,\nwhat it has incurred is too deep a terror, to be conceivable except of\na being on a grand scale. _He_ is no worm for whom the eternal abysses\nare built as a dungeon and the lightnings are brandished as a scourge.\nAccordingly, the very alienations of intolerance itself have acquired\na higher and more respectful character than in ancient faiths. The\nsort of feeling with which the Jew spurned \"the Gentile dog\" is\nsanctioned by piety no more. The Oriental curl of the lip is scarcely\ntraceable on the features of Christendom; and is replaced by an\nexpression of tragic sorrow and earnestness, where lights of admiring\npity flash through the darkest clouds.\n\nIt seems, then, that the essential sentiment of all Christian faith--the\ncommunion through conscience with God--carries with it, not only noble\npersonal aspirations, but also, towards others, affections of singular\ngenerosity and depth; affections which demand for every man a position\nin which he may work out the moral problem of life, which dignify every\nlot where this is possible, and which soften even actual alienations\nwith possible reverence and hope. The sphere of action which these\nfeelings may shape for themselves, the particular enterprises they may\nundertake, the external pursuits they may assume, will necessarily\ndepend on many foreign and accidental conditions. The work which it\nwould fall to the hands of the same faithful man to do, if he lived on\nthrough the changes of the world, would greatly vary from age to age.\nThe work which contemporary men, of equal and similar fidelity, will set\nthemselves to accomplish, will vary with their several positions. The\nsame act, or even habit, which is innocent (though possibly not\ninnocuous) in one place, may assume quite an altered significance in\nanother. It would be absurd, for instance, to set down the double\nmarriages of patriarchal times in the same moral rank with modern cases\nof bigamy. And the doctrine of Plato's Republic respecting marriage,\nstartling as a comment on the manners of his age, by no means expresses\nthe odious state of mind which would be implied in its substitution now\nfor the sanctities of private life. The devotion to studious and\npeaceful acts which may usually be either blameless or laudable, may\nbecome a guilt like treason in an hour when the interests of public\nliberty claim every citizen for the council or the field. Indeed, the\nconduct in such contrasted instances is in no proper sense _the same_;\nit has only an external identity; it is a physical self-repetition,\nwith a moral contrariety; and unless, in speaking of a human _action_,\nwe mean to shut out the soul which makes it human, and to denote only\nthe muscular flourish and spasm of limb, the sameness is but a semblance\nwith a reality of difference. The moral values of actions, taken in this\nnarrowest sense, are inevitably variable; and any code that should\npresent a list of them as obligatory in perpetuity, without regard to\nthe changes of their meaning to the mind, would mistake the very nature\nof human duty. Not that we deny the existence of permanent grounds for\nthe adoption of some habits and the avoidance of others. There are\nreasons, unchangeable as the corporeal frame of man, why opium should\nnot be taken as an article of food, and why cousins should not\nintermarry. But the grounds of prohibition in these cases are\n_rational_, not _moral_; they are found in the outward effects, not in\nthe inward sources, of conduct; and only when its outward effects are\n_known_ to the agent, so as to enter among its inward sources and modify\nits meaning, does he pass from _unwise_ to _immoral_. External action,\nin short, stands as an _indifferent_ phenomenon, between the mind that\nissues it and the world into which it goes. The thought and affection\nwhence it springs in the former give its _moral_, the results to which\nit tends in the latter its _rational_ value. Whoever makes a correct\nestimate of the several affections and impulses which stir the will, and\nthroughout their scale reveres the better and disapproves the worse,\npossesses _moral_ truth. Whoever perceives and computes the real\nconsequences of voluntary conduct, possesses _rational_ discernment in\nhuman affairs. The former--an interpretation of the conscience and its\nsacred contents--is the permanent essence of ethical and root of\nreligious wisdom. The latter--an apprehension of physical laws and\nhistorical tendencies--is conditioned by the progress of science and the\nfacilities for social vaticination. Errors in _this_ are inevitable to\nthe limitations of human intellect. Perfection in _that_ is possible\nonly to the highest divine insight in the soul. The fallible judgment\nrespecting outward relations affects only the accidents of morals,\nthough the essence of scientific truth. Where the inner apprehension is\ndeep and true, the outward judgment contains a principle of\nself-correction; the miscalculation of one age is checked by that of a\nsucceeding; opposite errors cancel each other; and the spirit of a pure\nfaith, like a just feeling of beauty and greatness in art, works itself\nclear of the false data of usage amid which its inspiration arose, and\ntransmigrates into ever-improving forms. If, however, the reverence due\nto the inspiration should become a traditional affair, losing its living\neye and spiritual tact, it will extend itself as a moping idolatry to\nthe imperfect media and rude materials through which the new glory first\ngleamed; an incapable era of _renaissance_ will appear; the very works\nwhich were given as the spring of ever-fresh creation will be used to\nstifle it; in servile imitation of an original period, its whole\ncharacter will be lost, and the moment of exactest reproduction will be\nthat of intensest contrast.\n\nThis is precisely the way in which the spiritual life of the primitive\nChristians has been dealt with. The thought and meaning that lay at its\nheart are little apprehended; its applied morals, in which these are\nmixed up with the errors incident to their point of view, are distorted\ninto a rigid code of obligation, in which the original idea is often\nentirely reversed. If it be really true that the Apostolic age was\nimpressed with the belief of a speedy end of the world, such an outlook\nmust undeniably have affected the disciples' whole estimate of the value\nof human pursuits. The plan of life commendable in a passage-ship may be\nquestionable in a settled home; and the proceedings of an army on the\neve of battle are not like the habits of the same people tilling their\nfields and sitting at their hearths. To apply to a permanently\nconstituted planet the rules promulgated to preserve discipline amid a\ngeneral breaking-up, is surely an eccentric kind of legislation. Yet by\njust such a process have modern churches derived a number of ethical\nextravagances offensive to the eye of chastened conscience, and\ncondemned by their impracticability to the insincere existence of\nperpetual talk. The manner in which English divines conduct themselves\ntowards this error of the first century appears to us not simple and\ningenuous. Some still affect to deny it, and to treat its reiterated\nassertion as a mere perverseness and impudence of heresy; yet they leave\nthe statement without serious refutation, though well aware that the\nweight of critical authority is altogether in its favor, and though\navowing their own theory of revelation absolutely to require that it be\nfalse. Others incidentally and grudgingly admit it, and then pass on as\nif nothing had happened; immediately relapsing into the same\nauthoritative appeal to Scripture, the same direct and mechanical use of\nits precepts, the same assumption of it as an instrument yielding on\ninterpretation nothing but truth, which had been habitual with them\nbefore their eyes were opened. Now, if anything be certain on such a\nmatter, it is that to suppose one's self in the world's last year,--the\nadmission paid to the panorama of judgment and the spectacle only\nwaiting to begin,--is no small and sleepy idea, which might\nineffectually turn up now and then, and sink back below the surface\nwithout further trace. A man who could live in presence of such a\nvision, and not carry its crimsoned light upon every object that fixed\nhis eye, could be no apostle of truth or preacher of earnestness; nor do\nwe know that anything more contemptuous could be said of him than that,\nno doubt, he held such an expectation, but it was of no consequence. To\nconvert the author of the Pauline Epistles into a dilettante believer of\nthe pattern of the nineteenth century, and say of his most tremendous\ngleams of thought that they were but transitory fireworks which meant\nnothing, is no less an offence against his character than a\nmisunderstanding of his writings; and we conceive that, in affirming the\ndeep penetration of his mistaken world-view into the substance of his\nmonitory teaching, we shall be vindicating the fundamental veracity and\nnoble clearness of his soul.\n\nTo exhibit the Christology of the Apostles with the fulness necessary\nfor tracing pseudo-Christian morality to its origin, would require a\nvolume. We can only advert to one or two points, indicating the\ndirection which such an inquiry would take. It is admitted on all\nhands, that a second advent of Christ is announced in almost every book\nof the New Testament; that, if we except the Gospel of John, it is\nspoken of invariably as a real, personal return, an objective and scenic\nevent, to be seen, heard, and felt; and cannot be explained away into a\nspiritual access to the world, or a subjective drama in the soul of\ndisciples. It is further admitted, that with this advent are integrally\nconnected many incidents which, however difficult to group into a\ncomplete picture, constitute, under every variety of possible\narrangement, a final consummation of human affairs. Indeed, the article\nin the Creed which declares that Christ \"shall come to judge the quick\nand the dead, and at his coming all men shall rise again with their\nbodies and shall give account for their own works,\" shows how the Church\nunderstands the doctrine, and conjoins the end of the world with the\nadvent. The _nature_ of the event being so far undisputed, the question\nwhich separates the mass of scientific interpreters from the popular\nexpounder, refers only to its _date_. The Apostle Paul, it is urged by\nthe critics, writes to his Thessalonian converts, in answer to a\ndistressing doubt which could have no existence but in minds on the\nwatch for the return of Christ; and his answer, far from checking this\noutlook, raised it to such intensity that, to soothe their excitement,\nhe wrote to them again to remove the event from the immediate foreground\nof their imagination; yet even then detained it quite within the limits\nof their natural lives, and, simply interposing one or two signals of\nits approach that had not yet appeared, counselled them not to lose\ntheir composure, but maintain a \"patient waiting for Christ.\" The\noriginal doubt which had disturbed them seems to have been one\ninstructively characteristic of the early theocratic faith. Some member\nof the community had died; his friends, in addition to their natural\nsorrow, were apparently taken by surprise, that, after enrolment among\nthe citizens of the approaching kingdom, he was taken from their side,\nand would not be with them when they hailed the arrival of Christ. What\nwould become of him? They thought he would have to remain in his sleep\ntill Messiah should exercise his function of raising the dead, which was\nnot to be at first; and so, during the great crisis, and for an\nuncertain continuance beyond, he would linger behind the privilege which\nthey enjoyed. This seems, at first sight, a strange subject of distress.\nThat the second advent should take place in the presence of the living\nonly, and should leave the dead without part or lot in the matter, is so\ncompletely at variance with the picture which has become fixed in the\ncommon Christian imagination, that scruples may readily be felt about\nattributing so mutilated a conception to the Thessalonian church. The\ncommonly received picture, however, is made up of elements incongruously\nbrought together from several Scripture writers, to whom the expected\nevent presented itself under different aspects; and nowhere can they be\nfound combined into such a whole as the ecclesiastical faith represents.\nTo understand and account for the Thessalonian state of mind, we have\nonly to read over the 24th and 25th chapters of St. Matthew, and to\nsurrender ourselves to the images there presented, without adding\nanything of our own. These chapters contain the fullest description of\nthe advent, the last judgment, and the end of the world, that can be\nfound in Scripture; yet _the dead are not brought upon the scene at all,\nnor is any resurrection found among its elements_. The whole idea is\nevidently of a return of the Son of Man, within the limits of a\ngeneration, to take account, in his theocratic capacity, of the very\npersons who had known him in his Galilean humiliation and disguise,--of\nthose who, having joined him in his days of trial, had been intrusted by\nhim with the administration in the interval of his heavenly\nabsence,--and of those who, after rejecting him personally, had hardened\nthemselves no less against the preaching and overtures of his subsequent\nambassadors. The nations gathered before him are furnished from the\nsurviving population of the earth; and the ground of their admittance or\nrejection is the reception they have given to Messiah in the persons of\nhis missionaries and representatives. In supposing the dead to have lost\ntheir chance of participating in this scene, the Thessalonians did but\npaint it to themselves as Christ, according to the first Gospel, had\ndescribed it to his hearers. Their misgiving plainly assumes that the\nadvent was sure for the living and was lost for the dead. The Apostle\nanswers by denying the distinction, and putting both classes into the\nsame condition ere the great hour strikes: but _what_ condition? Does he\nsay that the living will die first? No; but that the dead will live\nfirst: so that the departed companion will come back at the right moment\nfor mingling with the troop of friends that shall go \"to meet the Lord\nin the air.\" The same order of events is given in the sublime, but\nlittle understood, chapter on the resurrection in the First Epistle to\nthe Corinthians, where the Apostle places _himself_, at the advent, not\namong \"the dead\" that \"shall be raised incorruptible,\" but among the\nsurvivors that \"shall be changed\" into immortals without ever quitting\nlife. It is a topic of praise to the disciples at Corinth that they are\n\"waiting for the coming of Our Lord Jesus Christ, who shall also confirm\nyou unto the end, that ye may be blameless in the day of our Lord Jesus\nChrist.\" He assures his Philippian friends that \"the Lord is at hand,\"\nand prays that they may \"be sincere and without offence till the day of\nChrist.\" Having come out safe from his examination and hearing at Rome,\nhe avows his persuasion that he will be similarly delivered \"from every\nevil work,\" and preserved unto Christ's heavenly kingdom. Though amid\nhis toils and weariness he earnestly desired to be endowed with his\nimmortal frame,--to be invested, as he expresses it, with his house from\nabove; yet he was unwilling to put off the corruptible, till he could\nput on the incorruptible; he would have his mortality \"swallowed up of\nlife\"; he did not wish the great hour to find him naked, but clothed,\nnot, that is, a disembodied spirit, but a living man. He stands at the\nera on which \"the end of the world has come\"; and begs his\ncorrespondents to let certain existing disputes lie over, and to \"judge\nnothing before the time until the Lord come.\" Not less explicit evidence\nis afforded in the writings of other Apostles. James says, \"The coming\nof the Lord draweth nigh; ... behold, the Judge standeth before the\ndoor.\" Peter, \"The end of all things is at hand.\" John, \"Children, it is\nthe last time; and as ye have heard that Antichrist shall come, even now\nare there many Antichrists; whereby we know that it is the last time.\"\nIf the author of Christianity did not himself entertain the same\nexpectation of an early return to assume his Messianic prerogatives, he\nhas been greatly misrepresented by his biographers. For though one of\nthem represents him as disclaiming a knowledge of the specific \"_day_\nand _hour_\" appointed for his \"coming in the clouds with great power and\nglory,\" the disclaimer follows immediately on his announcement, that at\nall events it will take place within the existing generation. Does any\nreader doubt whether this \"coming in the clouds\" really describes the\njudgment? or whether \"this generation\" denotes the natural term of human\nlife? Both questions are answered at once in Matthew's report of a\nsingle sentence, which simultaneously defines the event and its date:\n\"For the Son of Man shall come in the glory of his Father, with his\nangels; and _then he shall reward every man according to his works_.\nVerily I say unto you, there be _some standing here which shall not\ntaste of death_, till they see the Son of Man coming in his kingdom.\" It\nis certainly possible enough that the discourses in which these\nexpressions occur may be incorrectly reported, and have acquired from\nthe writer's state of mind a definiteness not belonging to the original\nproduction. But, at any rate, they reveal the historian's conception of\nwhat was in Jesus's thought; and the false coloring of expectation which\nthey threw over his prophecies could not fail to extend in their reports\nto his preceptive discourses, and thus to have almost the same influence\non the recorded Christian ethics, as if the error were his as well as\ntheirs.\n\nThe evidence on this point is so positive and overwhelming, that\ncritics such as Olshausen, whose testimony is undoubtedly reluctant,\nno longer think of resisting it. Nothing, indeed, can be opposed to it\nbut a kind of interpretation which is the opprobrium of English\ntheology; and whose problem is, not simply to gather an author's\nthought from his words, but from among all _true_ thoughts to find\nthe one that will sit the least uneasily under his words. Thus \"the\nend of all things\" is explained away into the founding of the\nChristian Church; the \"coming of the Son of Man on the clouds of\nheaven,\" into the Jewish war under Titus; the last judgment, which\n\"rewards every man according to his works,\" into the escape of the\nChristians and the slaughter of the Jewish zealots at the destruction\nof Jerusalem. No doubt, many good and well-instructed men have\npersuaded themselves that by such exegetical sleight of hand they\ncould save Apostolic and other infallibility. We can only say, that\nwhen piety supplies the motive, and learning the means, for\nbewildering veracity of apprehension, two rich and noble endowments\nare spent in corrupting a nobler, which is the life of them both.\n\nTo the moral _sentiments_ which should occupy the soul, it may make\nlittle difference how long the world is to last. But to the course of\n_action_ which should engage the hand, it is a matter of primary\nmoment. All human occupations rest on the assumption of permanence in\nthe constitution of things; nor is it less true of a planet than of a\nfarm, that mere tenants at will, unsecured by lease and even served\nalready with notice to quit, will undertake no improvements, and will\nsuffer the culture to decline to the lowest point. What profession\ncould remain respectable if society had no future? What interest would\nattach to the administration of law, on behalf of property which was\nnot worth six months' purchase, and life which, stripped of\nsurvivorship, had lost all sacredness to the affections? Who would sit\ndown to study the Pharmacop\u0153ia on board a sinking ship? What zeal\ncould be felt by the statesman or general in repelling from his\ncountry an injury that could never be repeated, or removing a\ngrievance on the point of supernatural death? The fields would scarce\nbe tilled which the angels with flaming sword might come to reap; or\nthe vineyards be dressed in sight of him \"who treadeth the wine-press\nalone.\" All the crafts of industry, all the adventures of commerce,\nare held together by a given element of _time_; and, when deprived of\nthis, fall away into inanity. No one would build a house on ice\nmelting with hidden fires; or freight ships over an ocean which\nearthquakes were to drain away; or fabricate silks and patent-leather\nfor appearance at the last tribunal. And the loosened hold of these\npursuits upon human zeal, so far from implying their exchange for\nanything higher and more spiritual, involves the direct reverse. They\ncannot be abandoned; the stern punctuality of hunger, the\nperemptoriness of instinctive or habitual want, compel their\ncontinuance; and Paul himself made sail-cloth for a world on its last\nvoyage. But they are kept up only because there is no help for it;\nthey sink into mere bread-trades; and are thrown back many stages from\nthe tranquil human towards the grim cannibal level. All work in this\nworld, no doubt, rests at bottom on the elementary animal requirements\nof our nature; but it is then most worthily performed, not when these\nrequirements are most obtrusive, but when they are most withdrawn. It\nis the specific moral benefit which social organization confers upon\nman, that it enables him to retreat from the constant presence of\nsheer necessity, and stand at a sufficient distance from it to allow\nother and higher feelings to connect themselves with his industry. It\nis a lower thing to consult for the natural wants of primitive\nappetite, than for the artificial love of order, neatness, security,\nand beauty; and a craftsman works in a better spirit when earning some\n_unnecessary_ gift for his wife or child, than when toiling for the\nbitter loaf that staves off starvation. An art prosecuted without\npride in its ingenuity, without intellectual enlistment in its methods\nof skill, is degraded from an instrument of discipline into a prowling\nfor food,--from a mode of life into a makeshift against death. To take\naway the future, therefore, from secular pursuits, is simply to draw\noff from them whatever redeems them from meanness; to plant them in\ngreedy isolation, as mere personal necessities; and cut them off from\nthe great human system which lends to them a color of nobleness and\ndignity. Among the early Christians this tendency was greatly checked\nby the fresh aims and employments which their religion created; and in\ndevotion to which the more enthusiastic spirits found ample scope for\ntheir affections. The Church, subsisting like an intrenched camp in a\nhostile land, had to make sallies in all directions for rescue of the\nwandering, and for captives to the faith. An aggressive activity of\ncompassion and conviction found tasks for the energies disengaged from\nsecular pursuits; and the new relations into which their religious\nprofession threw them towards the synagogue, the magistrate, the Pagan\nworshipper, supplied them with continual problems of conscience,\nsevere, but wholesome to the mind. So peculiar, indeed, was their\nposition, that, even if they had reckoned on a continuance of human\naffairs, they could hardly, perhaps, have mingled much with a world\nthat drew them with such slender sympathies. Separated in ideas and\naffections, they must in any case have created a new and detached\ncentre of social life. Still it is undeniable that their isolation was\nfavored and exaggerated by their faith in an approaching end of all\nthings; and that they withdrew from human interests, not simply\nbecause honorable contact with them was impossible, but because they\nwere taught entire indifference to them as elements of a perishing\nsystem. Not only is no recognition given to the pursuit of art and\nletters, and the citizen's duty presented only on the passive side;\nbut even the relations of domestic life are discouraged, and the slave\nis dissuaded from care about his liberty, on the express ground that\nit is not worth while, on the brink of a great catastrophe, to assume\nany new position, or commit the heart by new ties. The time is too\nshort, the crisis too near, for the career of a free life, or the\nbuilding of a human home. It is better for every one to continue as he\nis; and instead of waiting to have the world perish from him, to\nregard himself as already dead to the world. To stand impassive and\nalone, neutral to joy or sorrow, with soul intent on the future, and\ndisengaged from impediments of the past, earnest to keep bright on its\nwatch-tower the beacon of faith, but resolute to descend no more into\nthe plain below, appeared to the Apostle Paul the highest wisdom. And\nhow could it be otherwise? Seen from his point of view, all temporal\nclaims sank into negation. The constitutions, the arts, the culture,\nof civilized nations were about to be superseded; and the Christians\nwho had already retired from them needed no new ones to take their\nplace, except such provisional arrangements as might serve during the\nworld's brief respite. Equally natural and suitable to their conceived\nposition were the non-resistance principles of the early disciples.\nWhat right could be worth contending for on the dawn of a great day of\nredress, when every wrong would be brought to its account? Who would\ncarry a cause before Dikast or Proconsul to-day, when Eternal Justice\nwas pledged to hear it to-morrow? Who refuse to resign to human\ncoercion what a retributive Omnipotence would soon restore? When the\ngreat assizes of the universe are about to be opened, it were a poor\nthing for the suitors to begin fighting in the vestibule. In all these\nrespects the practical code of the Apostolic age was inevitably\ninfluenced by the mistaken world-view prevalent in the Church. For the\nplaintiff, the hour was fixed when his suit would be called; for the\nslave, the emancipation-day was declared; and from him that bound\nhimself in heart to the past, the past was about to be snatched away.\nThe rules of action dictated by these notions are mere accidents of\nthe first age,--correct deductions from a misconceived system of\nexternal relations. They are wholly dependent on this misconception,\nand have no necessary connection with the interior spirit, the\ncharacteristic sentiments and affections which distinguish\nChristianity as a religion. If the Apostles had lived on till their\nmistake had worn itself out, and they had discovered the permanence of\nthe world,--had they postponed all writing of Scripture till this\nlesson of experience had been learned,--we apprehend that their scheme\nof applied morals would have been very different; a more genial\nrecognition would have been given to natural human relations; the\nsocial facts of property and government, the private concerns of\neducation and self-culture, the personal responsibilities of genius\nand intellect, would have been less slightingly dismissed, and reduced\nto clear moral order; and the sentences would have been greatly\nmodified which now support the delusions of the improvident, the\nascetic, the exclusive, and the non-resisting. Unhappily, Apostles do\nnot live for ever, so that we are denied that chance; and _successors_\nof Apostles, though seldom scarce, are not a helpful race, being\nchiefly marks of an absent inspiration. The task, therefore, of\napplying the essential Christian sentiments to a permanent\nworld,--though avowedly undertaken by the Roman Catholic\nChurch,--remains unperformed; and instead of it we have, in the common\nProtestantism, a violent misapplication to human nature and all time\nof the accidents and errors of the first age, resulting, we fear, in a\ncaricature injurious alike to that first age itself, and to all true\napprehension of the nature and proportions of human duty.\n\nExpressions abound in the literature of modern Christendom implying an\nantithesis between temporal and spiritual things, between morality and\nreligion, between the world and God. No one can fail to observe that\nthis antithesis, whether founded in reality or not, has become a social\nfact. There are two standards of judgment extant for the estimate of\ncharacter and life; one set up in the pulpit, the other recognized in\nthe forum and the street. The former gives the order in which we\npretend, and perhaps ineffectually try, to admire men and things; the\nlatter, that in which we do admire them. Under the influence of the one,\nthe merchant or the country gentleman is professedly in love with the\ninnocent improvidence of the ravens and the lilies; relapsing into the\nother, he sells all his cotton in expectation of a fall, or drains his\nfarms for a rise of rent. On the Sunday, he applauds it as a saintly\nthing to present the patient cheek to the smiter; on the Monday, he\nlistens with rapture to Kossuth's curse upon the house of Hapsburg, and\nthe Magyar vow of resistance to the death. He assents when the Apostle\nJohn is held up to his veneration as the beloved disciple, but, if the\ntruth were known, the Duke of Wellington is rather more to his mind.\nSupposing it all true that is said about the vanity of earthly pleasures\nand ostentations, he nevertheless lets his daughters send out next day\ninvitations to a grand ball, and makes his house busy with dress-makers\nand cooks. He is accustomed to confess that in him there is no good\nthing, and that all his thoughts and works are only evil continually;\nyet he is pleased with himself that he has provided for the family of\nhis gardener who was killed on the railway last week. In these and a\nthousand other forms may be noticed the competition between two\ncoexisting and unreconciled standards, the relations between which are\naltogether confused and uneasy. Whoever is interested in following up\nthe genealogy of ideas, and would search for the origin of this mixed\nand mischievous state of mind, must look first to the influence of\nLuther, and thence to the Pauline doctrine, which he improperly\ngeneralized and exaggerated. We will endeavor to trace the development\nof the sentiment in the opposite direction, from the ancient germ to the\nmodern fruit.\n\nPaul the Apostle proclaimed _Faith_ to be the condition of\nregeneration and acceptance. To appreciate this message of his, we\nmust remember two things;--namely, (1.) what it was from which men\nwere to be rescued on these terms; (2.) what other conditions had been\nelsewhere insisted on instead of this, and were put aside by Paul in\nfavor of this. Now enough has been said to show that what he feared\nfor the world which he labored to convert was, primarily, exclusion\nfrom the theocratic empire which Messiah would return to erect; nor is\nit clear what ulterior consequences, if any, he conceived this\nexclusion to carry with it. This banishment was the negative of that\n\"salvation\" to which the disciples were called; and which consisted in\ntheir registration as qualified citizens of the kingdom for which the\nearth was about to be claimed. The picture before his mind was so far\naltogether Jewish; not at all the modern idea of heaven and\nhell,--spiritual regions to which individuals, one by one, pass after\ndeath for moral retribution; but a terrestrial scene, the winding up\nof history, affecting men in masses, and completing the purpose for\nwhich God had created this world. While, however, the thought of the\nApostle's mind was national, the compass of his heart was human; and\nas the hour drew nigh, he felt that the future could not be closed\nupon the great Gentile world; that his own people were not so sublime\na race as to have the issues of Providence all to themselves; that he\nmust get rid of their conceited pedigrees, and let the Divine plan,\nwhich for a while had narrowed its original universality within the\ncurrent of Hebrew history, flow out at its end into the full breadth\nof its first scope. But if so, a new qualification must be found; one\nopen alike to Hebrew and to alien, yet nursing the pride of neither.\nThese requisites are fulfilled in simple Faith, which, as a catholic\npossibility of every human heart, Paul substitutes for prescriptive\nrights and untenable merits. It was the only condition which there was\ntime to realize. To insist instead on a mere moral fitness, on a\ncharacter of mind suitable to meet the eye of infinite purity, would\nbe a mockery in a state of society at once decrepit and corrupt. The\nhour pressed: it was not the case of a young and fresh generation,\nthat might be brought back, by heedful training, to the sanctities of\nnature and conscience; but an old and callous world, that could do\nlittle for itself, had to be got ready in hot haste. A kindled\nenthusiasm, a new allegiance, a resurrection of sleeping reverences,\nis the only hope. Once fix the gaze of faith, the simplicity of trust,\non the Divine Human Being, who, having been clad in the sorrows of\nthis earth, waits to bring in its everlasting peace; and this\naffection alone, comprehending in it every lesser purity, will soften\neven arid natures, and enrich them with forgotten fertility and grace.\nPreach your moral gymnastics to a school of young heroes, whose soul\nis noble and whose limbs are free; but at the baths of Bai\u00e6, amid\nparalytics that drag the foot, and cripples with worn-out bodies and\nhalting wills, if you cannot touch the spring of faith, you may spare\nyour pedantic rules of exercise. Thus the Apostle's demand of faith\nwas a generous stimulant of hope and recovery to an invalided world,\nwhose natural forces were broken, and which had but little time for\nrestoration. It was a provision for pouring a mountain-breath of\nhealing reverence upon the sickly souls and languid levels of this\nworld. It was an attempt to meet a quick emergency, and, by an\nintense action, condense the powers of preparation. It was therefore\nan expression, not of the narrowness, but of the universality of the\nGospel. It shows the great heart of the religion bursting bounds, and\nthe strong hand of its noblest servant tugging at the gates to get\nthem open, grinding off the rust of tradition and crushing the\nscrupulous gravel of obstruction.\n\nThe doctrine, however, assumes quite a different significance when\nsnatched by Luther out of its historical connection, and held valid as\na sufficient theory of human nature, and its only possibility of\nreligion. The palsy of will, the incapacity of self-cure, the hopeless\nmoral prostration into which long corruption had brought the world, as\nit lay beneath the eye of Paul, Luther assumes as the normal condition\nof the soul, and treats as a congenital incompetency of faculty,\ninstead of a contracted depravity of state. Not that he disowns the\nhuman will as an executive power, or denies it a sphere of operation.\nIt can go forth variously into action,--can do what, in the view of\nmankind, is better or worse,--can commit a murder or can rescue from\nit; but in these outward doings, however differently they affect men,\nthere is no real good or evil; in the supreme view they are neutral\nautomatic exhibitions, simply physical as a flash of lightning or a\nfall of rain; their real character all lies in the inner spiritual\nsprings from which they issue in the soul: on these alone is the\ninfinite gaze fixed; and these are turbid all through, and all alike,\nwith the taint and poison of a ruined nature. As all natural actions\nderive an equal guilt from the impurity of their source, so, when the\nsource is purified, is the guilt equally removed from all; whilst\nnothing which the unconverted may do can please God, nothing that is\nperformed in faith can come amiss to him. Be it what men call crime or\nwhat they praise as virtue, it makes no difference if only it be done\nin faith. Furnished with this supernatural charm, the believer may\npass through any mire and come out clean.\n\n\"A Christian cannot, if he will, lose his salvation by any multitude\nor magnitude of sins, unless he ceases to believe. For no sins can\ndamn him, but unbelief alone. Everything else, provided his faith\nreturns or stands fast in the Divine promise given in baptism, is\nabsorbed in a moment by that faith.\"[55]\n\nHere is a conception of faith altogether distinct from Paul's. It is\nhere no act of reverential enthusiasm and affection, no kindred movement\nof the soul towards an object beautiful and holy, but a mere willingness\nto trust a verbal assurance of atonement,--a willingness, moreover,\nitself foreign to the mind, and superinduced as an unnatural state by\nspecial gift. Nor is its efficacy to be sought in its transforming power\non man, but in its persuasiveness with God. It does not ennoble anything\nthat is the worshipper's own, but simply hangs on to it externally the\ncompensating sanctity of another; it is, indeed, described by Luther as\nthe mere vessel put into the hands of the believer, and charged with the\ntreasures of Christ's obedience,--treasures so acceptable that they\ncharm away the foulness, and prevent the rejection, of anything that\naccompanies them. Thus the effect of faith on the disciple is not to\ninspire him with a God-like mind, but to prevent his corruptions being\nany damage to him. By this strange theory, both sin and sanctity are\nmade entirely _impersonal_ to man; sin, by being a transmitted\ninability; sanctity, by being a foreign donation; and his individual\ncharacter sits in the midst, at a point of spiritual indifference,\nneither chargeable with the dark hue native to its complexion, nor\netherealized by the veil of borrowed light which it wears as a robe. No\nroom is found, either in the child of Adam, or in the redeemed of\nChrist, for any responsibility, any personal guilt or goodness\nwhatsoever. The misery and deformity in which the Gospel finds him is\nun-moral,--the mere scrofula of inheritance; the redemption into which\nit lifts him is un-moral,--the mere usufruct of an alien purity: and\nthus the whole business of religion begins and ends without\napproaching, and without improving, any law of conscience at all;\nmorality remains absolutely cut off from its contact, unaffected by it\nexcept in being disowned and degraded, and losing the prestige of a\nDivine authority. This consequence of his doctrine is not in the least\ndisguised by Luther, whose impetuous audacity never tires of forging\nphrases of opposite stamp, by which he may put the brand of insult upon\nMorals, and burn characters of glory into the brow of Religion. The\nlatter, he again and again insists, is to be set in the heavenly realm;\nthe former, on the other hand, detained upon the ground; the two being\nkept as absolutely apart as the sky from the earth, regarded as not less\nincapable of a common function than light and darkness, day and night.\nDo we speak of faith and our relations to God? then we have nothing to\ndo with morals, and must leave them behind lying on the earth. Do we\nspeak of conduct and our relations with men? then we stop upon the\nground, and get no nearer to heaven and its lights. The protests of our\nbetter nature against our own shortcomings, the sadness of repentance,\nand the alarms of guilt, so far from being confirmed by true religion,\nare shown to be mere delusion and idle self-torture; and the conscience\nthat can feel such compunctions is a stupid ass struggling in the dust\nand flats of this world beneath a servile burden it need never bear. To\ntrouble the heart with any moral anxieties or aspirations is the most\nfatal act of unbelief,--a downright plunge from heaven over the\nprecipice of hell. The moral law may rule the body and its members, but\nhas no right to any allegiance from the soul.[56] In any personal and\nhistorical estimate of Luther there would be much to say in palliation\nof these monstrous positions; it would be easy to show their connection\nwith some of the noblest characteristics of his genius, and their\nantagonism to some of the worst features of his times. But regarded in\ntheir influence on Christendom, when detached from their living origin,\nand made the ground of a theory for the governance of life, they can\nonly be lamented as an explosion of mischievous extravagance. For in\nwhat light do they present Morality to us, after stripping it of all\nsacredness? What ground is left on which its obligation may repose, and\nwhat end is given for its aim? It exists, as Luther himself declares,\nonly as a _provision for social order and external peace_. It is not\nconcerned with the perfection of the individual, but with the\norganization of the world; and is nothing but the system of rules and\ncustoms requisite for the safe coexistence of many persons on the same\nfield. It is thus reduced from an inspiration of conscience to an affair\nof police; the private sentiment of duty, operating in the hidden recess\nof life, keeping vigils over the temper of the mind and habits of the\nhome, is a mere substitute for public opinion, and no representative of\nthe eye of God. In this way, moral usages are first voted into existence\nas matters of convenience, and imposed by the general voice, yielding as\ntheir product in the individual an artificial sense of obligation; and\nit is a delusion to invert this order, and say that the natural sense of\nobligation, inherent in each individual, creates by sympathy and\nconcurrence the moral usages of mankind. This extreme secularization of\nmorals places Luther in curious company with Hobbes; and the followers\nof both have not been altogether unfaithful to the original affinity of\ntheir ethical ideas. Both schools have withheld from their conception of\nmorality any touch and color of religion; both have been jealous of its\nmingling itself much with sentiment and feeling; both have applied to it\npurely objective criteria, and regarded it as a statutory affair,\nsusceptible of codification, and then needing only a logical\ninterpreter. This singular alliance between sects regarding each other\nwith the greatest antipathy, exhibits the irresistible tendency of a\nwholly _super_-natural religion to produce an _infra_-natural morality.\n\nThe result of this sharp separation of the ethical from the spiritual\nprovince of life is, that both are deprived of elements indispensable\nto their proper culture. Our devout people are not remarkable for\neither clear notions or nice feelings on moral questions; while the\nconscientious class are apt to be dry and cold precisians, truthful,\ntrustworthy, and humane, but so little genial, so devoid of ideality\nand depth, that poet or prophet is struck dumb before their face. Till\nthe two classes had discovered their mutual alienation and collected\nthemselves round distinct standards,--evangelical and worldly,--the\nevil was inconspicuous. For some time after the Reformation, both\ncoexisted, without articulate repulsion, in every church, and each\nsilently qualified the other extreme. Besides, in spite of Lutheran or\nother dogma, deep personal faith, grateful trust in such a one as\nChrist, could not be awakened in a people into whom God, whatever they\nmight say of themselves, had actually put a conscience, without\ncarrying the moralities with it. It might take the liberty of calling\nthem \"stupid ass,\" but would nevertheless object to have the ass\nabused. In truth, no sooner was the law of Duty driven from\nChristianity, than the claim of Honor was invoked to take its place;\nand the believer was exhorted not to take unworthy advantage of his\nredemption from legal liability, but to render in thank-offering the\nservice exacted by penalty no more; worthless as it was, it was all he\nhad to give. Such appeal touches a spring powerful in noble hearts,\nand is, in fact, only the awakening of _a higher order_ of moral\nfeelings than before,--a fetching back, under the disguise of\ntransfiguration, of that very sense of duty which had been professedly\nexpelled. In the first enthusiasm of faith, while men's souls, having\njust flung off the sacerdotal incubus of centuries, were burning to\nbreathe freely, and felt the healthy throb of a new joy, this appeal\nwould meet a full response. The doctrine of faith was but the\nappointed way of bursting through the miserable scrupulosities, the\nlife of petty debts and casuistic book-keeping, by which a priesthood\nhad maintained a balance against the world,--of seizing a Divine\nindemnity and recovering the wholesome existence of devout instinct.\nIf the inspiration of the sixteenth century could be permanently\nmaintained, if all men were equally susceptible of being snatched up\nby a whirlwind of heavenward affection, if the surprise at finding\nthat the soul had wings of its own could last for ever, the principle\nof gratitude and pious honor might answer every end, and human duty be\nall the better done by taking no security for it; for you may hurl as\na missile, in hot blood, a weight which otherwise you will scarce drag\nupon the ground. But the fire of an age of Reformation cannot be\npermanent; nor is gratitude an affection on whose tension life can be\nsecurely built;--you cannot educate people by the force of perpetual\nsurprise. There is a large natural order of minds, little susceptible\nof a self-abandoning fervor, for whom you vainly bring the chariot of\nfire and horses of fire by which prophets fly to heaven, and who are\ncontent with the humble mantle of the humanities thrown aside by more\ndaring spirits in their ascent. Quiet, reflective, self-balanced\npersons are not to be taken by storm, and brought to betray the solid\ncitadel of this world, and say ugly things of the moralities with\nwhich they have lived in friendly neighborhood. They are capable of\nbeing led by reverence for what is _better_, but not of being kindled\nby the rays of what is _intenser_. If they are ever to be lifted into\na life _beyond_ conscience, where reluctance and resistance are felt\nno more, and the instincts of affection may flow of their own pure\nwill, it must be by beginning at the other end,--by the _religious\ndiscipline of conscience_, by pious consecration of this earth and its\ninstant work, by faithful and frugal care of the smaller elements of\nduty, as of the sacred crumbs of eucharistic bread, not without a Real\nPresence in them. This class, whose religion, by a decree of their\nnature, can only exist under ethical conditions, are wholly unprovided\nfor in the Protestant system. In the Lutheran view they belong to the\nschool of worldly unbelief; and though their number, as must be the\ncase in quiet times, has been increasing for a century and a half, and\nconstitutes the vast majority of educated people in this country, they\nare without any recognized religion; either veraciously disbelieving\nand waiting for something nobly credible, or uneasily subsisting,\nsuspected by clergymen, in the midst of churches whose theory of life\nhas ceased to be a reality to them. With a faith traditionally shy of\nmorals, and morals not yet elevated into faith, we have two separate\ncodes of life standing in presence of each other,--one religious, the\nother secular,--and neither of them with any true foundation in human\nnature as a whole; the secular, an accidental congeries of mixed\ncustoms and inherited opinions; the religious, the product of an\narbitrary spiritualism, lax and ascetic by turns.\n\nIt is the peculiarity of modern Christianity that these two codes\ncoexist within the same social body, and even rule over different parts\nof each individual. The Pauline antithesis between the world and the\nChurch was not less sharp than ours; but it was a distinction of persons\nand classes, and nobody could occupy both the opposite ends of it. Once\nwithin a society of disciples, he was out of the world, and belonged to\n\"the assembly of the saints\"; and the whole realm of heathendom beyond\nconstituted the contrasted term. He did not stand and move with one leg\non holy ground and the other on the common earth; whatever were the\nprinciples of the community he had joined, they served him all through,\nand did no violence to the unity of his nature. Praying or dining,\nweeping or laughing, in the workshop or the prison, he was the same man\nin the same sphere. As the circle of the Church enlarged, we should\ntherefore expect the world to be driven to a distance, till it was\nabsent from whole countries and continents. But a new \"world\" has been\ndiscovered, not only within the Church, but within the person of every\ndisciple; his body and limbs, his business and pleasures, being under\nthe law of a morality quite secular; his soul and its eternal affairs\nsitting apart in a love quite spiritual. Who shall draw the line between\nthe provinces, and know practically, hour by hour, where he stands?\nLiving confusedly in both, a man is apt to acquire a sort of double\nconsciousness, and fluctuate distractedly between C\u00e6sar and God. He\nbelieves, perhaps, that the kingdoms of nature and of grace are destined\nalways to remain side by side, neither absorbing the other till the day\nof doom. In that case, he will let other men create all the secular\nusages, the moralities of trade, the maxims of politics; standing aloof\nfrom them as not belonging to _his_ realm, and falling in with them\nfreely in his own case. They may be of questionable veracity and\njustice; but they belong to the Devil's world, and are as good rules as\ncan be expected from legislators sitting in the synagogue of Satan. Why\nshould he decline to profit by them, now that they are there? When Eve\nhas plucked the apple, it is too late for Adam not to taste the fruit.\nThe pious broker comes on 'Change as into a foreign world, on which he\nis pushed by humiliating necessities, and in which he feels an interest\nderived from them alone: he has his citizenship elsewhere; he disdains\nnaturalization; he is but a temporary settler; he wants no vote about\nthe laws; but, taking them as they are, cuts his crop and retires. The\ncoolness with which people who live above the world sometimes avail\nthemselves of its lowest verge of usage is truly amazing. An affluent\ngentleman of high religious profession, subscriber to Gospel schools,\nbeliever in prevenient grace, and otherwise the pride of the Evangelical\nheart, found himself not insensible to the approaches of the Hudson\nmania, speculated far beyond the resources of his fortune, declined to\ntake up his bad bargains, and thus, at the expense of utter ruin to his\nagent, escaped with comparatively easy loss to himself. The agent, being\nbut an honorable sinner of the worldly class, was struck down by the\nblow into great depression. His employer was enabled to take a more\ncheerful view, and, on meeting his poor victim, rallied him on his\ndejected looks and hopeless thoughts, so different from his own resigned\nand comfortable state of mind:--\"But ah! I forgot,\" he added with a\nsigh, \"you are not blessed with my religious consolations!\" Where no\nsuch positively odious results as these are produced, there is still\noften observable the negative selfishness of indifference to political\nwelfare and political morals,--an affected withdrawal from temporal\ninterests in the neighborhood or the State, and an insensibility to\npublic injustice strangely disproportioned to the zeal displayed against\ninnocent amusements and the nervousness on behalf of invisible\nsubtilties of creed.\n\nThe false opposition, however, between the world and the Church is\nnot always thus passive and quiescent. It is not always recognized by\nthose who hold it, as being a permanent fact to be merely sighed over\nand let alone. Many men are too earnest and truthful to settle down\nand pitch their tent upon a ground rocking with contradiction; to live\ntwo lives wholly unreconciled, one in the shame of nature, the other\nin the confidence of grace; or to belong to two societies,--one\npolitical, the other spiritual,--conducted on principles at incurable\nvariance with each other. That a rule of action should be secularly\ngood and religiously hateful,--that a sentiment should be fitly\napplauded in Parliament and groaned over in the conventicle,--is to\nthem an intolerable unreality, like the celebrated verdict of the\nUniversity of Paris, that a doctrine might be true in philosophy and\nfalse in theology. In their hands, accordingly, the antithesis between\nthe human and the divine is not a quiescent, but a conflicting\ndualism, in which their religious ideas become aggressive, and assume\na commission to drive back and humble the world. They claim the earth\nfor God, and think the surrender incomplete while anything natural\nremains;--while any instinct is uncrushed, any laughter unstifled, any\ngenius, however pure, a law unto itself. The crusade against temporal\ninterests and pursuits, consequent upon this state of mind, changes\nits form with the culture and habits of the age. In the early years of\nthe Reformation, when the whole Bible was spread open beneath the\nthirsting eye of an undistinguishing enthusiasm, the effect threatened\nat one time to be more terrible than glorious. The full thunder-cloud\nof the Hebrew prophets, stealing over a world in negative stagnation,\nwaked the sleeping lightnings of the soul, and for a while streaked\nthe atmosphere of history with fearful portents. Everything that had\nbeen written of the chosen people, their exodus, their law, their\npoetry, their passions,--everything except the relentings of their\nnature and the unsteadiness of their faith,--became consecrated alike.\nThe military clang of their early history, the harp of their sweet\nsinger, the choral pomp of their priestly rule, the mystic voices of\ntheir lonely men of God,--all were Divine music alike, often more\nexciting than the Sermon on the Mount, and not less piercing than the\nanguish in Gethsemane. Such was the sequence and connection of the\nDivine dispensations supposed to be, that Christianity was simply the\nJewish theocracy, only let loose out of Palestine to make a promised\nland of the whole world. The downtrodden serfs of Franconia had not\nlong heard the glad tidings from Wittenberg, ere they began to draw\nparallels between themselves and the old Israel when the desert had\nbeen passed. They had been brought to the brink of new hope, and\nlooked, as across Jordan, to an inheritance verdant and tempting to\ntheir eye. The earth was the Lord's, and the army of the saints was\ncome to take it; the bannered princes, the ungodly priests, the \"men\nwith spurs upon their heels,\" all the carnal who peopled this Canaan\nand perched their \"eagle's nests\" on every height, must be smitten and\ncleared off. The time of jubilee was come, when every believer should\nhave his field of heritage; nay, the birds in the forest, the fish in\nthe stream, the fruits of the ground, whatever has the sacred seal of\nGod's creative power, should be free to all, and the noble should eat\nthe peasant's bread or die. The lawyers should take their heathenish\ncourts away, and men of God should sit and judge the people, according\nto the spirit and the word. The harvest was ripe, when the tares must\nbe burned in the fire and the pure wheat be garnered for the Lord.\nThese were the ideas which thousands of armed men, with a clouted shoe\nand a cart-wheel for their standards, and a leader who signed himself\n\"the sword of Gideon,\" preached as their Gospel through the forests of\nThuringia and beneath the citadel of W\u00fcrzburg. Nor was the ripest\nlearning, much less the most generous spirit of the time, any security\nagainst the adoption of their doctrine. It was not M\u00fcnzer alone who\nbreathed the fierce inspiration, exhorting his swarthy miners to \"lay\nNimrod on the anvil, and let it ring bravely with their strokes\"; but\nthe honest Carlstadt, too, scholar, preacher, dialectician as he is,\nlays aside his broadcloth, and appears in white felt hat and rustic\ncoat at the cross of Rothenburg, to preach encouragement to the\npeople and bring fresh sorrow on himself. Throughout the great\nmovement which in the third decade of the sixteenth century spread\ninsurrection from the Breisgau to Saxony, the peasants were animated\nwith the belief that the Gospel, armed with the sword of Joshua, was\nto subjugate the world, and that all the conditions of property, of\nlaw, of civil administration, under which secular communities exist,\nwere to be superseded by institutions conformed to a divine model. The\nleading Reformers, terrified by the religious socialism which they had\nraised, were ready enough to denounce and crush it. But in truth their\nown idea differed from this insurgent faith more in form than in\nessence; lodging the power in different hands, and prescribing to it a\ndifferent method, but assigning to it a similar trust for the same\nultimate ends. The kingdoms of this world were to be made the kingdom\nof the Lord and of his Christ; and the temporal power was everywhere\nto assume a spiritual function, and make aggression on whatever\nopposed itself to the severity and sanctity of the Divine Word. The\nconverts of Knox, the troopers of Cromwell, the town-councillors of\nGeneva, acting on this doctrine, claimed the whole of human life as\ntheir domain, and pushed the inquisitions of police into private\nhabits, and even the secret inclinations of personal belief.\nPlaying-cards and song-books were denounced and seized, as if they\ncame from the Devil's printing-press; dancing prohibited, as a profane\nescape of the natural members into mirthful agitation; concerts\nsilenced, as enslaving immortal souls to the delusive sweetness of\nstrings and wind; the caps of women and the coats of men shaped to\nevangelic type; and, as if the world were a great school, the gates of\ncities, and even the doors of houses, were closed at temperate hours\nby vesper bell or signal gun. Asceticism grasped the sceptre and the\nsword, and demanded the capitulation of the world. How vain and\ndangerous this tyrannous repression of nature is, the reaction during\nthe seventeenth century into reckless and fatal license emphatically\ndeclares; and the contrast shows the necessity of finding some\nmediating term, some reconciling wisdom, by which the antagonism may\ncease between the world and heaven, between natural morals and\nChristian aspiration. Yet under a change of form the struggle is still\ncontinued; and with those who most prominently assume to represent the\naims of Christianity, the present life, the temporal world, has no\nadequate recognition of its rights. They have no trust in human nature\nas divinely constituted, and as having no part or passion without some\nfitting range. They dare not leave it out of sight for an instant:\nthey must draw up a dietary for it, of sufficing vegetables and water;\nthey must watch its temper, and see that it behaves with winning\nsweetness to all rascality; they must guard its purse, and teach it\nthat to live cheaply, spending nothing for ornament and beauty,\nnothing for honor and right, but only for subsistence and charity, is\nthe great wisdom of man; they must stifle its indignations, lest it\nshould cease to hold out its cheek to Russia, and, having gone one\nshameful mile with \"the nephew of my uncle,\" should refuse to go with\nhim another. Both the ascetic doctrine and the extreme peace\nprinciples of the present day, as well as its tendency to renounce all\nretributory punishment, betray, in our opinion, a morbidly scrupulous\napprehension of evil, quite blinding to the healthy eye for good,--a\ncrouching of moral fear, singularly at variance with the free and\nnoble bearing of the Apostle, who found that \"to the pure all things\nare pure.\" As for the non-resistance principle, we have shown that it\nmeant no more in the early Church than that the disciples were not to\nanticipate the hour, fast approaching, of Messiah's descent to claim\nhis throne. But when that hour struck, there was to be no want of\n\"physical force,\" no shrinking from retribution as either unjust or\nundivine. The \"flaming fire,\" the \"sudden destruction,\" the \"mighty\nangels,\" the \"tribulation and anguish,\" were to form the retinue of\nChrist and the pioneers of the kingdom of God. It was not that\ncoercion was deemed unholy, and regarded as the agency appropriate to\nlower natures and left behind in ascending towards heaven; it was\nsimply that natural coercion was not to fritter itself away, but leave\nthe field open for the supernatural. The new reign was to come _with\nforce_; and on nothing else, in the last resort, was there any\nreliance; only the army was to arrive from heaven before the earthly\nrecruits were taken up. Nothing, indeed, can well be further from the\nsentiment of Scripture than the extreme horror of force, as a penal\nand disciplinary instrument, which is inculcated in modern times. \"My\nkingdom,\" said Jesus, \"is not of this world; else would my servants\nfight\";--an expression which implies that no kingdom of this world can\ndispense with arms, and that he himself, were he the head of a human\npolity, would not forbid the sword; but while \"legions of angels\"\nstood ready for his word, and only waited till the Scripture was\nfulfilled and the hour of darkness was passed, to obey the signal of\nheavenly invasion, the weapon of earthly temper might remain within\nthe sheath. The infant Church, subsisting in the heart of a military\nempire, and expecting from on high a military rescue, was not itself\nto fight; not, however, because force was in all cases \"brutal\" and\n\"heathenish,\" but because, in this case, it was to be angelic and\ncelestial. It is evident that precepts given under the influence of\nthese ideas can have no just application to the actual duties of\ncitizens and states, whose problems of conduct, whose very existence,\nthey never contemplated; and that to urge them upon modern society as\npolitical canons is to introduce a doctrine which, under cover of\ntheir form, violently outrages their spirit.\n\nThe mistaken antithesis between temporal and spiritual things runs\ninto the greatest excess, wherever the inherent pravity of human\nnature is most exaggerated. There are churches, however,--the Catholic\nand the Arminian,--in whose doctrines the natural condition of man is\npainted in colors far removed from the deepest shade; and which deem\nhim not so much incapable of right moral discernment, as weakened for\nfaithful moral execution. In this view, the function of Christianity\nis not to supersede and cancel, but to supplement and guide, the\nnative energies of the soul; not to raise it from a mad trance, in\nwhich all thought and feeling are themselves but a false glare, but\nto apply a tonic and healing power, enabling it to do the right which\nit has already light enough to see. Professor Fitzgerald is an\nadherent to this doctrine, and justly contends that no lower estimate\nof human nature can consist with responsibility at all.\n\n\"I am not to be ranked,\" he says, \"amongst those who assume that human\ncorruption has not _affected_ the natural power of the moral sense. I\nthink it has. No doubt sinful depravity, wherever it is indulged, is,\nas Aristotle long ago remarked, \u03c6\u03b8\u03b1\u03c1\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03b7 \u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u03b1\u03c1\u03c7\u03c9\u03bd,--it tends to\nweaken or deprave the sentiment of moral censure, and to blunt the\nperception of moral evil.\n\n\"An eloquent but superficial French moralist has compared the\nconscience to a table-rock in the ocean, its surface, just above the\nripple, bearing an inscription graven in the stone, which a genius,\nhovering over it, reads aloud. At times the waves arise and sweep over\nthe tablet, concealing the mystic characters. Then the reader is\ncompelled to pause. But after a while the wind is lulled, the waves\nsink back to their accustomed level, the inscription stands out clear\nand legible, and the genius resumes his interrupted task.\n\n\"This comparison might gain something in correctness if we imagine the\ninscription traced upon a softer substance. For the stormy waves of\npassion not only conceal, while they prevail, the sacred characters of\nvirtue, but, as billow after billow passes over the tablet, they tend\nto obliterate the lines.\n\n\"But in making these large concessions, (which I do very willingly,) I\ndo not feel that I am surrendering the cause. It is one thing to say\nthat the discriminating power of the moral judgment is _affected_ and\nimpaired by human corruption, and quite another to say that it is\ndestroyed. It is one thing to say that it sometimes goes wrong, and\nanother that we can _never_ depend on its decisions. Most men's\nexperience has often brought them acquainted with persons who had\nimpaired, in some way or other, their natural powers of perceiving truth\nor excellence in some respects, without losing either sound principles\nof reason or sound principles of honesty in others. And the way to\ncorrect such obliquities of intellectual or moral judgment is, not to\ntell men that they should distrust their natural faculties altogether,\nbut to avail ourselves of so much as remains sound to discover the\nmistake or imperfection which we seek to remedy or supply. The appeal,\nin such cases, is from the reason or conscience perverted or impaired,\nto the same faculties in what physicians would call their _normal\nstate_. When the effaced portions of the inscription are to be restored,\nthe evidence of the correction results from its harmonizing with the\npart which has not been obliterated; and an interpolation may be\ndetected by its disturbing the coherence of the context,--an omission by\nleaving it imperfect or unintelligible.\"--p. 26.\n\nOn this principle alone, unhappily but little congenial with the\nspirit and traditions of Protestant churches, can Christianity coexist\nwith natural ethics. Faith adopts morals, purifies and sublimes them,\nand especially changes the character of their force;--for a law of\ncompulsion from below, substituting a love of God above. The enmity\nceases between the world and heaven; the physical earth is not more\ncertainly afloat in space, and on the muster-roll of stars, than the\npresent life is plunged in eternity, and not behind its chiefest\nsanctities. There is nothing to be ashamed of, nothing to be slurred\nover as an unmanageable necessity, in the natural constitution and\nrelations of men; whatever acts they prescribe, whatever combinations\nthey require, are within the scope and consecration of religion. The\nwhole compass of the world and its affairs, all the gifts and\nactivities of men, are brought within moral jurisdiction, and included\nin the embrace of a genial reverence. No narrow interpretation is\nlonger possible of the province of human piety, and the true type of a\nnoble goodness; as though they demanded a definite set of actions,\nrather than a certain style of soul, and denied a place to any\naffection or pursuit which can adorn and glorify existence. Divine\nthings are not put away into foreign realms of being, and future\nreaches of time, attainable by no path of toil, no spring of effort,\nonly by miraculous transport; but are met with every day, shining\nthrough the substance of life and hid amid its hours. Whatever\noriginal endowments, whatever acquired virtues, enrich and elevate our\nimmediate sphere,--the Thought which finds its truth, the Genius that\nevolves its beauty, the Honor that guards its nobleness, the Love\nwhich lightens the burden of its sorrows,--are not mere temporal\nembellishments indifferent to its sacredness, but attributes that\nbring men nearer to the sympathy and similitude of God. Art,\nliterature, politics, employing the highest human activities, and\nconstituting the very blossom and fruit of all our culture, are\nrecognized as having an earnest root, and not being the light growth\nof secular gayety and selfishness. We have no sympathy with the\nsentimental and immoral propensity, which corrupts the newest\nContinental philosophy, to recognize whatever comes into existence as\n_ipso facto_ divine. But we do believe that the great change for which\nthe secret religiousness of this age pines, and which it is sorely\nstraitened till it can accomplish, is the deliberate adoption into\n\"heavenly places\" of this world, its faculties and affairs, just as\nGod has made them, and man's unfaithfulness has not yet spoiled them.\nThe products of human baseness, hypocrisy, and ambition,--let _them_\nremain hateful, eternally contrary to God, things scarce safe to pity;\nbut believe not that they have got this planet entirely to themselves,\nand have snatched it as their _peculium_ quite out of the Supreme\nHand. Men are tired of straining their thought along the diameter of\nthe universe to seek for a Holy of Holies in whatever is opposite to\ntheir life; they find a worship possible, even irresistible, at home,\nand on the road-side a place as fit to kneel as on the pavement of the\nMilky Way. The old antagonism between the world that now is, and any\nother that has been or is to come, has been modified for them, or has\neven entirely ceased. The earth is no place of diabolic exile, which\nthe \"prince of the power of the air\" ever fans and darkens with his\nwing; and were it even, as was once believed, appointed to perish,\nthis would be not because its failure was complete, but because its\ntask was done. No vengeance burns in the sunshine which mellows its\nfruits and paints its grass; no threatenings flash from the starry\neyes that watch over it by night. It is not only the home of each\nman's personal affections, but the native country of his very soul;\nwhere first he found in what a life he lives, and to what heaven he\ntends; where he has met the touch of spirits higher than his own, and\nof Him that is highest of all. It is the abode of every ennobling\nrelation, the scene of every worthy toil;--the altar of his vows, the\nobservatory of his knowledge, the temple of his worship. Whatever\nsucceeds to it will be its sequel, not its opposite, will resume the\ntale wherever silence overtakes it, and be blended into one life by\nsameness of persons and continuity of plan. He is set here to live,\nnot as an alien, passing in disguise through an enemy's camp, where no\nallegiance is due, and no worthy love is possible, but as a citizen\nfixed on an historic soil, pledged by honorable memories to nurse yet\nnobler hopes. _Here_ is the spot, _now_ is the time, for the most\ndevoted service of God. No strains of heaven will wake him into\nprayer, if the common music of humanity stirs him not. The saintly\ncompany of spirits will throng around him in vain, if he finds no\nangels of duty and affection in his children, neighbors, and friends.\nIf no heavenly voices wander around him in the present, the future\nwill be but the dumb change of the shadow on the dial. In short,\nhigher stages of existence are not the refuge from this, but the\ncomplement to it; and it is the proper wisdom of the affections, not\nto escape the one in order to seek the other, but to flow forth in\npurifying copiousness on both.\n\nWe have said that men are tired of having their earthly and their\nheavenly relations set up in sharp opposition to each other, and are\neager to live here in a consecrated world. This tendency has already\nfound expression in two remarkable and apparently dissimilar\nphenomena,--the partial success of the Anglican and Catholic reaction,\nand the vast influence on English society of the late Dr. Arnold's\ncharacter. Both were virtual protests against that removal of God out\nof the common human life, that unreconciled condition of Law and\nGospel, which had made the evangelical theology sickening and unreal.\nA path had to be opened for the re-introduction of a divine presence\ninto the sphere of temporal things. Newman resorted to the\nsupernatural channel of Church miracle; Arnold to the natural course\nof human affairs, and the permanent sacredness of human obligation.\nBoth restored to us a solemn mystery of immediate Incarnation; the one\nputting life, in order to its consecration, into contact with the\nsacraments; the other spreading a sacramental veneration over the\nwhole of life. Arnold, especially, saw the great moral evils which\nhave arisen from the evangelical depreciation of the \"profane\" world.\nThe secular, he was well aware, has become _too_ secular, the\nspiritual too _merely_ spiritual. Human nature is permitted to have\nplay with unchecked wilfulness in the one, and is allowed no place at\nall in the other. The obligations of natural law are held in light\nesteem, as if, in being social, they fell short of being sacred. The\nexercises of intellect, in the survey of nature or the interpretation\nof history, are often stigmatized as a mere earthly curiosity,\npermissible to reason, but neutral to the soul. The worst of it is,\nthat these notions, once become habitual, fulfil their own\npredictions. As there is nothing which the heart cannot sanctify, so\nis there nothing which it may not secularize. Tell men that in their\nnatural affections there is nothing holy, and their homes will soon be\nnests of common instinct. Assure them that in their business it is the\nunregenerate will, and the animal necessity, that labor for the bread\nwhich perisheth, and soon enough will an irreverent greediness and a\ncankered anxiety usurp the place. Persuade them that to study the\norder of creation or the records of past ages is but a \"carnal\"\npursuit, and the student's prayer for light will become a mere\nambition for distinction, the meditations of wonder be stifled in the\ndust of mental day-labor, and the tears of admiration drop no more on\nthe page of ancient wisdom. This was what Arnold could not abide; to\nsee religion flying off on wings of pompous pretence to other worlds,\nand leaving no heavenly glory upon the earth, but letting her very\nfields be paved into a street. There was no attempt to save a spot\nfor any earnest reality, except the poor little enclosure behind the\naltar rail. The Church will consecrate a graveyard for the dead, but\nleaves the market of the living still unblessed: you may dissolve away\nin benediction, when your years are over of toil and sweat beneath the\ncurse. To one who acknowledges a natural conscience and a natural\nelement in faith, there is a _religion in little_ in every part of\nlife; it gives at least a note in the chords and melody of worship.\nHence Arnold's curious doctrine of the Church as covering all human\nrelations whatsoever, and including the whole organism of the State.\nHe would have nothing which the laws of this universe imposed on the\nwill of man done without a clear and pious recognition; it was not to\nbe illicitly smuggled in, as if run ashore in a gale of confusion that\ncould not be helped, but must be steadily accounted for and stored in\nopen day. _Ethically_, this doctrine, though, from its adaptation to a\npermanent world, it is the least Apostolic in appearance, is, of all\ninterpretations of Christianity, the most true; and if it were not for\nclinging ideas of extra-moral dogma and special priesthood, as\nlimiting the conception of \"the Church,\" would go far to repeat for\nour age the work of Socrates for his, and bring down our divine\nphilosophy from heaven to earth. It gets rid entirely of the false\nspiritualism which has either withheld religious men from political\naffairs, or induced them to urge on statesmen rules applicable only\nwhere government can be dispensed with altogether. It rescues\nChristianity from the degradation of being hypocritically flattered as\nthe great persuasive to peace by rulers whom it does not restrain from\ngoing to war, and relieves it of an oppressive weight of false\nexpectation, as though it broke its promise to the world every time a\nnew case of strife appeared. Nothing can well be more damaging to a\nreligion, than to commit it to unqualified disapprobation of anything\nwhich must exist while human nature lasts, and to set it frowning with\nineffectual sublimity on the passions and events which determine the\nwhole course of history. The amiable enthusiasts who propose to\nconduct the affairs of nations on principles of brotherly love, and\nwho, till that consummation is reached, can only stand by and protest,\ndo but weaken their country for purposes of justice and bring their\nfaith into merited commiseration. It is commonly said that they are a\nharmless class, who may even form a useful counterpoise to the warlike\nsusceptibilities of less scrupulous men. We have no belief, however,\nin the efficacy of falsehood and exaggeration, or in the attainment of\ntruth and moderation by the neutralizing action of opposite\nextravagances. The reverence for human life is carried to an immoral\nidolatry, when it is held more sacred than justice and right, and when\nthe spectacle of blood becomes more horrible than the sight of\ndesolating tyrannies and triumphant hypocrisies. Life, indeed, is just\nthe one thing--the reserved capital, the rest, the ultimate\nsecurity--on whose disposability in the last resort, and on the free\ncontrol over which, the very existence of society depends. The first\nand highest social bond is no doubt to be found in a _religious_\nsentiment, a common veneration for the same things as right and\nintrinsically binding on men that live side by side; and the worship,\nwith its institutions, of every community, is its instinctive attempt\nto get these things spontaneously done by the force of _reverence_.\nCould this point be really carried, nothing would remain to be\naccomplished; religion would complete and perfect the incorporation of\nmutual loyalty which it had begun. But there are some in whom the\nsentiment of common reverence fails, and for whose fidelity to the\nmoral ends of the social union there is therefore no natural guaranty.\nTo reach these cases, society has no resource but coercive methods,\nactual or threatened; the threat is _Law_; the actuality is\n_Punishment_; the power to which both are committed is a _Government_;\nthe commonwealth on whose behalf they exist is a _State_. The very\nconstitution of a state thus presupposes the _possible violation of\nmoral right_, the partial failure of religion to secure its\nobservance, and the determination to _enforce_ on the reluctant an\nobedience refused of free will. Force, however, is applicable only to\nmen's bodies; it is a restraint and pressure on the functions of\ntheir life; and if that life be sacred from infringement, the\npolitical existence of nations is itself an offence against the law of\nGod. All law, all polity, is a proclamation that justice is better\nthan life, and, if need be, shall override it and all the possessions\nit includes; and nothing can be weaker or more suicidal than for men\nwho are citizens of a commonwealth to announce, that, for their part,\nthey mean to hold life in higher esteem than justice. Moreover, there\nis a low-minded egotism often disguised in this doctrine of passive\nmeekness. As an inducement to quiet endurance of wrong, we are\nreminded of the duty of \"mutual forgiveness.\" Is all the wickedness,\nthen, that I am doomed to witness, nothing but a _personal affront_?\nWhen a rascal threatens to blow out my neighbor's brains, or to blast\nhis character by infamous accusations, am _I_ in a position to forbear\nand pardon? Must I not own myself under a solemn trust, to see the\nright done and the guilty punished? Nay, would not the injured man\nhimself greatly mistake the nature of the crime, and measure it by a\npaltry standard, if he took it for a mere private offence which it was\nhis prerogative to punish or to overlook? \"Who is this that forgiveth\nsins also?\" The eternal laws of justice are not of our enacting; and\nno will of ours has title to suspend or to repeal them. The real and\nonly demand of Christian magnanimity is, that we visit them with no\nvengeance, but merely with moral retribution;--_that_ is, with no more\nseverity when directed against ourselves, than when we see them at an\nimpersonal distance. But to regard and treat the guilty as if he were\nan innocent,--that is given to no man, and is even inconceivable of\nGod. Rulers, at all events, as trustees of rights other than their\nown,--and each generation of a people, as charged with the interests\nof successors in perpetuity,--have but a limited privilege of\nforbearance; the meekness of the saint would in them be treason to the\nworld. Even in international disputes, where each party may have a\nconviction of right, the controversy, but for the possibility of\nforce, could have no end. It is a delusion to rely on courts as a\nsubstitute for armies, and to suppose that judicial decision can\nsupersede military. The judge would be of small avail without the\nconstable; and the arbitrator between nations would need a European\narmy to enforce his decrees. Where the stake is large and the feeling\nstrong, it is notorious that the private disputant rarely acquiesces\nin an arbitration that goes against him; but carries his case to the\nlast appeal, where it is stopped by a barrier of impassable force. You\nmight as well pull down your jails in preparation for the assizes, as\ndestroy your fleets and arsenals in quest of international\narbitration. We speak only of the ultimate theory of this matter, and\nsimply affirm, that wherever law and government exist, somewhere in\nthe background force must lurk. It may, no doubt, be provided in\nexcess, and paraded without need; and with the progress of a civilized\norder, the circle may be ever widened within which the _idea_ of\ncoercion, with the habits it creates, may be substituted for the\nobtrusive reality; till possibly a family of nations may be gathered,\nlike a group of counties, into a common jurisdiction. But this only\nshifts the camp without disbanding it; and, after all, the tipstaffs\nof your supreme court could be no other than the legions of a grand\narmy. We have, therefore, no more doubt that a war may be right, than\nthat a policeman may be a security for justice, and we object to a\nfortress as little as to a handcuff. A religion which does not include\nthe whole moral law; a moral law which does not embrace all the\nproblems of a commonwealth; a commonwealth which regards the life of\nman more than the equities of God,--appear to us unfaithful to their\nfunctions, and unworthy interpreters of the divine scheme of the\nworld. Quaker histories, written with omission of all the wars, are\nnot less morbid as moral mistakes, than a doctrine of Providence,\nleaving out the whole realm of heathendom, is narrow as a religious\ntheory; and the misuse of Scripture which has led to both, is most\ndangerous to its authority in an age remarkable for the breadth of its\nhistorical survey and the variety of its ethnological sympathies.\n\nIn other ways than those which we have indicated has a mischievous\ndirection been given to modern thought and feeling, by perverting the\naccidental and transient form of the primitive Christianity into\nessential and permanent doctrine. But our exposition must proceed no\nfurther. The alternation of ascetic spiritualism and worldly laxity,\nthe indifference to natural affections and relations, the\nexclusiveness at once devout and selfish, the jealous denial of their\nrights to intellect and art, the false apprehension of the true\ndignity of law and true life of states, have been the more earnestly\ndwelt upon from the conviction that these ethical infirmities are\nproducing a perilous reaction,--a distrust of all ethical laws\nwhatsoever, a disposition to hold everything divine that finds\nstrength to realize itself,--a worship of what _is_, in place of an\naspiration to what _ought to be_. To this we cannot consent. We cannot\nlook on all forms of human life and character with the neutral eye of\nan equal admiration, as alike suitable products of formative nature.\nWe cannot forego the right of judgment,--of embracing with reverence\nor spurning with abhorrence; or part with the ideal type of a perfect\nsoul, to which all others rise as they approach. Neither do we believe\nwith Luther, that human nature is a mere _devilish_ anarchy, reducible\nonly by supernatural irruption; nor with the newest school, that it is\na _divine_ anarchy, equally uncontrollable from within, and to be\naccepted as a wild fact; but that it is a _hierarchy of powers_, each\nhaving and knowing its rightful place, and appealing to us to maintain\nit there. To listen to that appeal, and, in answer to it, strive to\nharmonize the _de facto_ with the _de jure_ administration of the\nsoul, destroying the usurpation of mean errors, and restoring the sway\nof kingly truth, is the aim of morals in action and in philosophy.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[55] Luther de Captivitate, Bab. ii. 264. Comp. Dispu. i. 523. Si in\nfide fieri posset adulterium, peccatum non esset. Other and yet more\nrevolting assertions of the same principle are cited by M\u00f6hle, in his\nSymbolik, I. iii. \u00a7 16, whence these passages are taken.\n\n[56] See Luther's Commentary on the Epistle to the Galatians, _passim_.\n\n\n\n\nTHE RESTORATION OF BELIEF.\n\n    _The Restoration of Belief_. No. I. _Christianity in Relation to its\n    Ancient and Modern Antagonists_. Cambridge: Macmillan & Co. 1852.\n\n\nWe have heard it quoted as the remark of a distinguished foreigner,\nconversant with the choicest society in several of the capitals of\nEurope, that nowhere is the alienation of the higher and professional\nclasses from all religious faith so widespread and complete as in\nEngland. That the masses at the other end of the social scale are\nindifferent or disaffected to the institutions which visibly embody the\nChristianity of our age, can be no secret to any observant inhabitant of\na large English town. It is on the middle class alone that the various\nforms of Protestant worship have any real hold. Removed alike from the\npassionate temptations of the homeless artisan, and from the mental\nactivity of the statesman or man of letters, the rural gentry and the\nurban tradespeople are detained under traditional influences, partly by\nthe wholesome conservatism of moral habit, partly by helpless\naccommodation to conventional standards. Men of this class, if once\nreally touched and possessed by earnest conviction, are the best\ndefenders of a religion from _political_ assault. But a faith exposed to\nan _intellectual_ struggle finds among them but a precarious shelter;\nespecially if their attachment to it is less a living persuasion than a\nfear of the blank which its removal would create. Persecuted by the\nmagistrate, they know how to defend their worship from the oppression of\nlaw. Assailed by the critic, they can offer but the resistance of a dumb\nimpenetrability; they cannot bring their sterling personal qualities to\nbear upon the contest; they are obliged, for all active conduct in the\nstrife, to trust to a body of literary Swiss, engaged to protect the\nVatican of their faith, and accustomed never to report defeat. In\nproportion as the methods of sceptical aggression become more\nformidable, and its temper more earnest, it is found necessary to\nimprove the training of the band of Church defenders;--a measure at once\nindispensable and fatal; for it lifts them into an intellectual\nposition, which spoils the blind singleness of their allegiance,\ndiscloses the hopelessness of the task expected from them, and often\ndestroys their antipathy to the noble revolutionary foe. It is the\nvainest of hopes, that a body of clergy, brought up to the culture of\nthe nineteenth century, can abide by the Christianity of the sixteenth\nor of the second; if they may not preserve its essence by translation\ninto other forms of thought, they will abandon it, in proportion as they\nare clear-sighted and veracious, as a dialect grown obsolete. The number\naccordingly is constantly increasing, in every college capable of\ntraining a rich intellect, of candidates for the ministry forced by\ntheir doubts into lay professions, and carrying thither the powerful\ninfluence, in the same direction, of learning and accomplishment. The\nhigher offices of education are, to no slight extent, in the hands of\nthese deserters of the Church; and through the tutor in the family, or\nthe master in the school, or the professor in the lecture-room, contact\nand sympathy are established between the best portions of the new\ngeneration, and a kind of thought and culture with which the authorized\ntheology cannot co-exist. College friendships, foreign travel, current\nliterature, familiarize all educated young men with the phenomenon of\nscepticism, and in a way most likely to disenchant it of its terrors.\nThus by innumerable channels it enters the middle class at the\nintellectual end of their life, assuming in general the form of historic\nand critical doubt; while from below, from the classes born and bred\namid the whirl of machinery, and shaped in their very imagination by the\ntyranny of the power-loom, it pushes up in the ruder form of material\nfatalism. The intermediate enclosure, safe in the dull innocence of an\nunsuspected creed, is growing narrower every day; and, though reserved\nto the last for its hour of temptation, will be the least prepared to\nwin its victory.\n\nNo one who appreciates the real sources of a healthy national life,\nand knows what to expect from the dissolution of ancient faiths, can\nlook without anxiety at a prospect like this; especially in a country\nwhose religious institutions, rigid with usage, overloaded with\ninterests, charged with the bequests of the past, are manifestly\nunequal to the crisis, and, in their attempt to train the affections\nof the Future, wield every power but the right one, and are indeed\nalready regarded, like the Court of Chancery with its wards, as a dry\nnursery for grown babies. A people that reverences nothing--nothing at\nleast that stretches a common heaven over all--has lost its natural\nunity. Incipient decay is spreading through the secret cement of its\ncivilization, which, far from bearing the weight of further growth,\nprecariously holds its existing mass together. So far we are entirely\nat one with those who see something to deplore in the \"Eclipse of\nFaith,\" and something to desire in the \"Restoration of Belief.\" They\ndo not overrate the evils of a state of society in which, if you think\nwith the wise, you must cease to believe with the vulgar. We would\njoin with them, heart and hand, in the effort to terminate this fatal\ndiscrepancy, and find some language of devotion and aspiration,\nveracious alike from the lips of the richest knowledge and the most\nprimitive simplicity. But when, like the author whose publication is\nbefore us, they would abolish the discrepancy by simply reinstating\nthe taught in the creed of the untaught; when they insist on the\nsurrender without terms of modern philosophy and criticism to the\n\"unabated\" authority of the Bible; when they pretend to wipe out from\ncalculation all the theological researches of the last half-century,\nas if they were mere ciphers made in sport on the tablet of history,\nand had no effect on our computed place at all,--we separate\nsorrowfully from them, largely sympathizing with their wish, but\nwholly despairing of their method. The received theory of the origin\nof Christianity from agencies exclusively divine, and of the\ninfallible character of the canonical books, can no more be\n\"restored,\" than Roman history can be put back to its state before\nNiebuhr's time, or Greek mythology be treated as if Heyne and Ottfried\nM\u00fcller had never lived. The present age is not more distinguished by\nits advance in the material arts, than by its astonishing progress in\nthe interpretation and true painting of the past; a Boeckh or a Grote\ncarries in his mind a picture of Athenian life in the days of Pericles\nmore perfect, it is probable, than could be formed by Plutarch or\nLonginus; and it would be strange if the Christian era--certainly the\nobject of the most elaborated study--were the only one to escape the\nwork of reconstruction, or to undergo it without considerable change.\nThe limits of that change are at present definable by no consentient\nestimate; but that they are such as to remove the old lines of\nChristian defence, and require the choice of more open ground, can no\nlonger be denied, except by the astute consistency of a Romanist\nhierarchy, and the innocent unconsciousness of English sects. When the\ntime shall come for a dispassionate history of the first two\ncenturies,--a history which, resolving the canon back into the general\nmass of early Christian literature, shall find an original clew for\ntradition, instead of accepting one from its posthumous hand,--which\nshall detect opinions before they were heretic or orthodox, and trace\nthe several streams of tributary thought to their confluence in a\ndeterminate Christianity,--the narrowness of our present polemic will\nbe apparent of itself; its fears and triumphs be regarded with a\nsmile; and many, both of its positive and negative results, will\nvanish from the interests of religion, and be absorbed in a higher\nview of the relation between the Divine and Human in this world.\n\nWe had hoped at first that the author of \"The Restoration of Belief\" was\nabout to take up the problem of Christianity with a real appreciation of\nits altered conditions, and with unaffected justice towards those who\ncannot solve it like himself. His present essay is but the commencement\nof a series, designed to arrest the progress of educated scepticism, to\nexpose the sophistries of modern criticism, and re-establish the plenary\nauthority, as oracles of faith, of the Hebrew and the Christian\nScriptures. It would perhaps be unreasonable to complain that his\nargument does not march very far in this first movement; and engages us\nrather by the stateliness of its step, than by the clearness of its\ndirection. Nevertheless, we do think that the discursive license of\nintroductory exposition is carried by him to an extreme which promises\nill for the exactitude of his method. At the outset he declares that the\ndifficulties which embarrass modern faith go down to the very depths of\nphilosophy, and can be resolved only by reaching the ultimate roots of\nthought. Yet he remains on the upper surface of history, and, without\nonce hinting how this is to lead him to the pith of the controversy,\ndwells only on facts which are undisputed, and his conception of which\nmight be as readily gathered from Gibbon as from Neander. Like many\nwriters whose eye is caught by grandeur of effect, and whose imagination\nis sensitive to wonder, he is fascinated by the moment in human affairs\nwhen the Roman Empire was exactly poised between the forces of external\nunity and of internal decay, and the political organism of the Past, so\naugust in its mass and its proportions, held no soul but the young\nspirit of the Future. Of this crisis, assigned to the reign of Alexander\nSeverus, our author presents an impressive and, we believe, a faithful\nsketch. Amid the splendor, the misery, the decay of belief and hope, the\nuniversal incertitude of that period, there emerges into notice the\nbeautiful and beneficent phenomenon of a real Faith,--a Faith that can\nlive, a Faith that can die. The inevitable conflict between this new\npower and the Pagan prerogatives of the C\u00e6sars is well brought out by\nthe essayist; and the victory of Christianity is justly ascribed to the\npeculiar character of the religion, as a feeling directed to a PERSON\nrather than the simple assent to an IDEA. It was the force of this\npersonal feeling which first awakened in men the sentiment of obligation\nin regard to religious truth, and substituted faithful veracity for\nindifferentism and laxity of profession. The author thus sums up the\npositions which he regards the present essay as establishing:--\n\n\"That the Christian communities did, during the period that we have had\nin view, make and maintain a protest against the idol-worship of the\ntimes, which protest, severe as it was in its conditions, at length won\na place in the world for a purer theology, and set the civilized races\nfree from the degrading superstitions of the Greek Mythology.\n\n\"That in the course of this arduous struggle, and as an unobserved yet\ninevitable consequence of it, a New Principle came to be recognized,\nand a New Feeling came to govern the minds of men, which principle and\nfeeling conferred upon the individual man, however low his rank,\nsocially or intellectually, a dignity unknown to classical antiquity;\nand which yet must be the basis of every moral advancement we can\ndesire, or think of as possible.\n\n\"That the struggle whence resulted these two momentous consequences,\naffecting the welfare of men for ever, was entered upon and maintained\non the ground of a definite persuasion, or Belief, of which a PERSON\nwas the object.\n\n\"That this belief toward a person embraced attributes, not only of\nsuperhuman excellence and wisdom, but also of superhuman POWER and\nAUTHORITY. If we take the materials before us as our guide, it will\nnot be possible to disengage the history from these ideas of\nsuperhuman dignity.\"--p. 106.\n\nThese positions we certainly conceive to be unassailable. But they lie\nso completely out of the field of modern doubt and controversy, that\nwe are at a loss to imagine what possible use the author can make of\nthem. The general features of the Christian faith, and the character\nof the Church, had assumed in the third century a determinate form,\nabout which there is no important question between believer and\nunbeliever. Who would deny that the disciples for whom Clement of\nAlexandria and Origen wrote, whom Tertullian and Minucius Felix\ndefended, and to whose institutes Cyprian was a convert, believed in\nJesus Christ as a person at once historical and divine, and were\nstrengthened by that belief to the endurance of martyrdom? The real\nand only difficulties lie higher up, in the attempt to trace the\nsources and earlier varieties of this belief; and if our author can\nshow that, in winding its way through two centuries, and traversing\nseveral distinct regions of thought, it dropped or rounded off no\nprimitive facts, and became mingled with no foreign ideas,--if he can\nestablish the essential constancy and uniformity, from the first, of\nthe tradition and doctrine which obtained ascendency at last,--he will\nindeed reduce legitimate scepticism within very narrow limits, and\ndeserve a niche in the Valhalla of critical renown. But if he\ncontemplates clearing these centuries by an argumentative leap; if,\nfrom the martyr faith of an age later than the Antonines, he means to\nconclude the certainty of the Incarnation two hundred years\nbefore,--then we must say, he attempts a logical feat which puts to\nshame the cautious steps of such reasoners as Paley, Marsh, and\nWhately. The catena of well-linked testimonies, with its bridge of\nsafe footing, which they have endeavored to sling across the chasm of\nthe post-apostolic age, is but a paltry cowardice of ecclesiastic\nengineering to one who can pass the gulf upon the wing of inference.\nAn advocate is intelligible, and proceeds upon admitted rules of\nevidence, who says with these earlier divines: \"Here are the writings\nof Paul, of John, of Matthew, and of other men who were present at the\nevents they relate or assume; whose lives were turned into a new\nchannel by their influence; and who went to prison and to death rather\nthan deny them. They positively declare that they witnessed the most\nstupendous miracles, and, after their Master had been visibly taken up\nthrough the clouds, themselves habitually exercised the same\nsupernatural power. You must admit that the guaranties of testimony\ncan go no further: surrender yourself therefore to the Gospel.\" This\nis an argument which accomplishes all that is possible with historical\nevidence in such a case; and were its allegations of fact sustainable,\nit would still be the best form into which the reasoning could be\nthrown. Unfortunately, we can no longer feel assured that any\nfirst-hand testimony exists, as a distinguishable element, in the\nnarrative books of the New Testament; so that we can regard them only\nas monuments of the state of Christian tradition during a secondary\nperiod. Still, this flaw is not repaired by striking into the course\nof belief three or four generations lower down, and substituting the\n\"Martyr literature\" of the third century for the Evangelist memorials\nof the second or the first. And when our author transfers to Clement\nand Origen the praise of unaffected simplicity usually awarded to the\nApostolic writers, and actually presents it as sufficient proof of\ndivine attributes in Christ, we can only suppose that, in his opinion,\nsome truths are too good to have any bad way to them. What else can be\nsaid of the following mode of inference?\n\n\"Much do we meet with in these writers that indicates infirmity of\njudgment or a false taste; yet does there pervade them a marked\nsimplicity, a grave sincerity, a quietness of tone, when HE is spoken\nof whom they acknowledge as LORD. If there be one characteristic of\nthese ancient writings that is _uniform_, it is the calm,\naffectionate, and reverential tone in which the Martyr Church speaks\nof THE SAVIOUR CHRIST!\n\n\"I am perfectly sure that, if you could absolutely banish from your\nmind all thought of the inferences and the consequences resulting from\nyour admissions, you would not, after perusing this body of Martyr\nliterature, fall into the enormity of attributing the notions\nentertained of CHRIST, as invested with Divine attributes, to any such\nsource as 'exaggeration,' or 'extravagance,' or to 'Orientalism,' or\n'enlarged Platonism.' Exaggeration and inflation have their own style:\nit is not difficult to recognize it. No characteristic of thought or\nlanguage is more obvious. You will fail in your endeavor to show that\nthis characteristic _does_ attach to the writings in question; and\nwhy should you make such an attempt? There can be no inducement to do\nso, unless it appears to be the only means of escaping from some\nconsequence which we dislike.\"--p. 107.\n\nOur author professedly opposes \"Ancient Christianity\" to modern\nscepticism, because \"History,\" as he observes, \"is solid ground,\" and no\nregion of atmospheric phantasms, births from the refracted rays of\nmetaphysic light. History, however, is solid ground only so far as it is\nreally explored; and the trending of the land and curving of the shore\nin one latitude of time no more enables us to lay down the map of\nanother, than an anchorage at the Ganges' mouth would enable us to paint\nthe gorges of the Himalayas, and distinguish the real from the fabulous\nsources of the sacred stream. To take us into the basilicas and show us\nhow Christians worshipped in the days of Alexander Severus, to introduce\nus to the Proconsul's court and bid us witness their refusal of divine\nhomage to C\u00e6sar's image, and then ask us whether a faith like this\n_could have had_ any origin but ONE,--this is not _history_, but the\nmere _evasion_ of history. We want to know, not what _must have been_\nthe source, but what _was_ the source, of the great moral power that\nrose upon the world as Rome declined. Whoever wishes to shut out human\nideas and natural agencies from participation in the matter, must go\npatiently through the entire remains of the early Christian literature;\nmust trace the conflict between the Hebrew and the Pauline Gospel; find\na place for the peculiar version of the religion given by the Evangelist\nJohn; fix the limits of Ebionitism, of Chiliasm, of Docetism; and show\nthat these modes and varieties of doctrine stop short of the substance\nof the early faith, and do not enter the canonical Scriptures with any\ndisturbance of their historic certainty. Nothing of this kind do we\nexpect from our author. For he entertains a conception, respecting the\nlogic of Christian evidence, which, however prevalent among English\ndivines, betrays in our judgment a mind not at all at home with the\npresent conditions of the problem. He seems to think that we can _first_\nprove the historic truth of the Scriptures _in general_; and then get\nrid of the _difficulties in particular_; and requires us, in obedience\nto this pedantic law of logical etiquette, to carry into our\ninvestigation of every successive perplexity the rigid assumption that\nthe writings with which we deal are \"inspired,\" and their contents of\n\"Divine authority.\"\n\n\"When a collection of historic materials, bearing upon a particular\nseries of events, is brought forward, it will follow, upon the\nsupposition that those events have, on the whole, been truly reported,\nthat any hypothesis, the object of which is to make it seem probable\nthat no such events did take place, must involve absurdities which\nwill be more or less glaring. But then, _after_ the truth of the\nhistory has been established, and when the trustworthiness of the\nmaterials has been admitted, as we proceed to apply a rigid criticism\nto ambiguous passages, we shall undoubtedly encounter a crowd of\nperplexing disagreements; and we shall find employment enough for all\nour acumen, and trial enough of our patience, in clearing our path.\nAnd yet no amount of discouragements, such as these, will warrant our\nfalling back upon a supposition which we have already discarded as\nincoherent and absurd.\"--p. 110.\n\nWe cannot call this a vicious canon of historical criticism; for it\nsimply excludes historical criticism altogether. The critic's work is\nnot a process which can go on generically, without addressing itself to\nany particular matters at all, and vindicate comprehensive conclusions\nin blindness towards the cases they comprise. The judgment that, on the\nwhole, a certain book contains a true report of events, can only be a\nprovisional assumption, founded on natural and childlike trust, and can\nclaim no scientific character, till it comes out as a collective\ninference from an investigation in detail of the narrative's contents.\nNo doubt, the bare fact of the existence of Christianity as a great\nsocial phenomenon in the age of the Antonines, may afford evidence\nenough that Jesus of Nazareth was no imaginary being; the genius of the\nreligion, and the traditional picture of its author, may indicate the\ncast of his mind and the intensity of his influence; the institutions\nof the Church may betray its origin in Palestine, and the approximate\ndate of its birth. But these conclusions, founded entirely on reasonings\nfrom human causation, can never carry us into the superhuman; or enable\nus to say more respecting the memorials of the life of Jesus, than that\nthey _may be_ true, and do not forfeit, _ab initio_, their title to\nexamination by fundamental anachronism, misplacement, and moral\nincongruity. How far the existence of this _prim\u00e2 facie_ case falls\nshort of \"establishing the truth of the history,\" and \"the\ntrustworthiness of the materials,\" we need not point out to any one\naccustomed to deal with questions of evidence. And as for the great\nproposition, that \"the Gospel of Christ is a supernaturally\nauthenticated gift,\" we cannot imagine how it is to be proved _in\ngeneral_, without research into a single miracle. Is it indifferent to\nthe fact of the Incarnation, that the only two accounts of the birth and\ninfancy of Jesus are hopelessly at variance with each other? Is the\nevidence of the Resurrection unaffected by the discrepancies on which\nharmonists have spent a fruitless ingenuity? Are we as sure that, in\nreading the Apostles' works, we have to do with \"inspired writers,\" as\nif they had _not_ made any false announcements about the end of the\nworld? What does our author mean by admitting these things as\n\"difficulties,\" yet denying them any just influence in abatement of our\nconfidence? He may form one estimate of their weight, and his opponent\nanother; but in neither case can they be postponed for treatment in a\nmere appendix to the discussion of Christian evidence: they are of the\nvery pith of the whole question, and, so long as they lie in reserve as\nquantities of unknown magnitude and direction of influence, render\nhistorical belief and unbelief alike irrational.\n\nNor can we for a moment allow that the failure of ever so many \"German\ntheories\" to give a satisfactory account of the origin of\nChristianity, is any good reason for contented acquiescence in the\nreceived doctrine. Our author insists, that we must make our\ndefinitive choice between some modern hypothesis and the Evangelical\ntradition; and either take the facts as they are handed down to us, or\nelse replace them by some better representation. By what right does he\nimpose on us such an alternative necessity? Is the critic disqualified\nfor detecting false history, because he cannot, at his distance, write\nthe true? Is it a thing unknown, as a product of scholarship, that\nfabulous elements disclose themselves amid the memorials of fact? and\nis it not an acknowledged gain to part with an error, though only in\nfavor of an ignorance? If a modern hypothesis as to the mode in which\nthe religion arose may \"break down\" by mere internal incoherence and\nimprobability, why may not the ancient account, if it should be\nchargeable with similar imperfections, be liable to the same fate? It\nis surely conceivable that _all_ the finished representations we\npossess,--Hebrew and Alexandrine, as well as German,--furnish, more or\nless, an ideal and conjectural history of the infancy of Christendom;\nand that the reproduction of that time may not only be _now_\nimpossible, but have already become so ere a hundred years were gone.\nThe baffling of one solution implies therefore no triumph of another;\nand if the tradition on which we stand be insecure, our position is\nnot improved by clipping the wings of every adventurous hypothesis on\nwhich we had thought to escape the common ground.\n\nOur author cannot then change the _venue_ of the great Christian cause\nfrom the first century to the third, and, on the evidence present there,\ngive even preliminary judgment. The conflict between the new religion\nand the old which characterized that period, he paints with striking and\ntruthful effect; and, contrasting the severe and holy veracity of\nmartyred disciples with the careless indifference of Paganism to\nreligious truth, he rightly refers the superiority of the Christians to\ntheir faith in a _Person_, instead of mere assent to an _Opinion_. Is\nit, however, correct to regard this as original and exclusive to the\nGospel, and to set it on the forehead of the Church as the very mark of\nher distinctive divinity? We think not. The same feature is manifest in\nJudaism, to which again it belongs, not as a peculiarity, but in common\nwith every faith whose Only God is the apotheosis of humanity. It is the\none grand moral characteristic of genuine Theism, as opposed to\nPantheism; rendering it more than the enthusiasm of poetry, the\nearnestness of philosophy, the inspiration of genius, and constituting\nit, in the deepest sense, Religion. Nor is the ground of the distinction\nfar to seek. Religion, in its ultimate essence, is a sentiment of\nReverence for a Higher than ourselves. Higher than ourselves, however,\ncan none be, that have not what is most august among our endowments;\nnone, therefore, by reason of size, of strength, of duration; none\nsimply by beauty or by skill; none even by largeness of discerning\nthought, but only by free and realizing preference of the most Just and\nGood. A Being of living Will can alone be nobler than myself, lift me\nabove the level of my actual mind by looking at my latent nature, and\nemancipate me into the captivity of worship. In other words, reverence\ncan attach itself exclusively to a _Person_; it cannot direct itself on\nwhat is _im_personal,--on physical facts, on unconscious laws, on\nnecessary forces, on inanimate objects and their relations, on space,\nthough it be infinite, on duration, though it be eternal. These all,\neven when they rule us, are _lower_ than ourselves; they may evade our\nknowledge, defy our power, overwhelm our imagination, but never rise to\nbe our equals, or conspire to furnish even the symbol of our God. The\nmere deification of Nature, the recognition of oneness pervading her\nvariety, the sense of an absolute ground abiding behind her transient\nphenomena, may supply a faith adequate to the awakening of wonder and\nthe apprehension of ideal beauty, but not to the practical consecration\nof life; glorifying the universe as a temple of Art, but railing off\nwithin it no oratory of Conscience. In order to extract anything like a\nreligion of _conduct_ from this type of belief, its hierophants are\nobliged to approach as near as they can to the language of proper\nTheism, and not even despise typographical aid for pushing\npersonification to the verge of personality; uttering various warnings\nnot to neglect the \"_intentions_ of Nature,\" or insult the \"Relentless\nVeracities,\" and inviting sundry offenders to _blush_ before \"the\nEternal Powers.\" The whole force of such expressions is evidently due to\nthe false semblance of living thought and will with which they clothe\nthe conceptions of mere abstract relations or physical tendencies. These\nrich tints are no self-color, but a borrowed light reflected from a\ngrander Presence studiously withdrawn from view; and when their gloss is\ngone, no positive residuum is found, but a doctrine of hope and fear,\nwithout any element of Duty. It were a mockery, an inanity, to bid a man\nspend his affections on hypostatized laws that neither know nor answer\nhim. In his crimes, it is not the heavy irons of his prison, but the\ndeep eye of his judge, from which he shrinks; and in his repentance he\nweeps, not upon the lap of Nature, but at the feet of God. In his\nallegiance, his vow is made, not to the certainty of facts, but to the\nmajesty of Right, and the authority of an Infinitely Just; and his acts\nof trust are directed by no means to the steadiness of creation's ways,\nbut to the faithfulness of a perfect Mind. In short, all the sentiments\ncharacteristic of religion presuppose a Personal Object, and assert\ntheir power only where Manhood is the type of Godhead. This condition\nwas imported, or rather continued, from the Hebrew to the Christian\nsystem; and brought with it the devout loyalty of heart, the singleness\nof service, the incorruptible heroism of endurance, which had\nencountered Antiochus Epiphanes at Jerusalem, as it now met Pliny in\nBithynia, and Quadratus at Smyrna. The Paganism of the Empire, on the\nother hand, failed entirely of this condition. It was a mere\nnature-worship, expressive of the political dynamics by which, through\nthe award of a mysterious necessity, Rome had become the centre of the\nworld. If, among the deities whose congress was now assembled on the\nTiber, there were any which once, in their indigenous seats, had\ncommanded the full moral faith, and touched the true theistic devotion,\nof a people, that time had passed; and the conquered tribes suffered a\nmore fatal loss when the victorious city adopted their religion, than\nwhen she crushed their liberty. Removed to Rome, the rites of a\nprovincial worship expressed nothing except that its gods were gods no\nmore, but had descended from divine monarchic rights to a place among a\npensioned hierarchy. Vanquished divinities inevitably become delegated\npowers of nature, and resign their sceptre to the sovereign they are\ncompelled to own. As the administration of the Empire embraced a\ncongeries of checked nationalities, so did its pantheon include a\ncollection of extinguished religions. While as Imperator the head of the\nstate was the embodiment of its unity by natural force, as Divus he\nrepresented its unity by preternatural sanction; and the divine honors\npaid to him were the acknowledgment of a necessity more than human in\nthe culminating majesty of Rome. These honors would be freely rendered\nto him by those who looked on all realized existence, on everything\ncharged with force enough to come up and be, as equally decreed by \"the\nEternal Powers,\"--equally divine. Such homage would appear to them the\nmere expression of a fact, and a graceful owning of mysterious fates in\nits production; and no scruple could withhold them from an act which\ncontradicted nothing in their mind, and did but fling a breath of pious\nincense around the thing that veritably was. It were absurd to expect\nthe protest of a martyr from a man whose religion you cannot contradict;\nwho will see a God wherever you ask him; and whose worship asserts\nnothing but that, a phenomenon being there, an occult power is behind\nit. A faith of this sort is deficient, as an Hegelian would say, \"in the\nmoment of _negation_\"; it is all unobstructed affirmation, and can\nstrike no light because it thus finds nothing to dash itself against.\nBut let the divine element in the universe cease to be impersonal and\nimpartially coalescent with the whole, let it live an Individual Mind,\nand the requisite antagonism immediately appears. To the Jew, the\nworship of C\u00e6sar would be no other than high treason to Jehovah, whose\ntool, whose whip of lightning, and whose cup of consolation the Pagan\nEmperor might become; but whose emblem and incarnation he could so\nlittle be, that he rather stood defiantly at the head of the opposing\nrealm, and, even when forced to be the organ, did not cease to be the\ncompetitor of God. For _opposing realm_ there must be, wherever proper\nTheism exists. Man feels that his personal attributes, his will, his\ncharacter, his conscience, demand conflict for their condition, and\nwithout the possibility of ill could never be; and when he carries them\nout into the infinite region, to serve as his image of the Highest, they\nbear with them the inseparable shadow of evil, and give it place in the\nuniverse, as the darkness in whose absence light would want its\ndistinction, the privative without which the beauty of holiness were\nnothing positive. Hence, expressed or unexpressed, a dualism mingles\nwith all genuine theistic faith. All is not divine for it. It has a\ndevil's province somewhere. Face to face, as Ebal to Gerizim, the frown\nof blighted rock to the smile of verdant heights,--hostile as the priest\nof falsehood to the true prophet,--there stand contrasted in this creed\ntwo domains of the world,--one surrendered to insurgent powers, the\nother reserved as the nursing ground from which right and truth shall be\nspread. To the Hebrew, the Pagan world was given over to a false\nallegiance, and inspired with diabolical delusions. For him to sacrifice\nto the genius of C\u00e6sar, would have been, therefore, a desertion to the\nenemies of God, forbidden by every claim of faithfulness and veracity.\nThus we conceive that the moral conditions of the martyrs' protest\nagainst idol-worships were complete within the limits of Judaism before\nthe mission of Christ; and that the essence of it lies, not in the\nexclusive characteristics of the Gospel, but in the difference between\nTheistic reverence for a Personal Being, and the Pantheistic\nacknowledgment of an impersonal divineness. The peculiar function of\nChristianity in this respect was to become missionary to the world of\nthis heroic fidelity transmitted from the parent faith, and hitherto\nbounded by its limits; and to find a place in the universal conscience\nof civilized nations for the duty of bearing testimony, though with\ntortures and death, to the pricelessness of truth and the sanctity of\nconviction. True it is that the Gospel was qualified for this office by\ndirecting human faith upon a _Person_; and would have exercised no such\npower, had it been a mere philosophy presenting propositions for assent,\ninstead of a Living Mind for trust and reverence. But this condition\nwould have been attained by the simple extension of the Jewish Theism.\nThe Personality, which is needed as a centre of intense fealty and\naffection, is found in the God of Hebrew tradition, and, for its effects\nin kindling a martyr courage and constancy, did not require to be sought\nin the historical Jesus of Nazareth. He, no doubt, as the mediate\nexpression of the Supreme Will, as the Being with whom the Church stood\nin direct contact, as the presence of the Divine in the Human, _was_ the\nobject of the disciples' actual allegiance. We do not in the least\nquestion this as a _fact_, but only as a _necessity_, ere we can account\nfor the moral features of a martyr age.\n\nIn singling out, as one of the grandest practical results of\nChristianity, the recognition it has obtained for the _obligations of\nreligious truth_, our author has rightly seized a characteristic\ndistinction of modern from ancient society. The principle is a real\nagency of the first order in history; we do not accuse him of\noverrating its importance, but of mistaking its genealogy. And now we\nmust add, that if we differ from him as to the source whence it comes,\nwe differ still more as to the issues whither it conducts. So\ninconsiderately does he allow himself to be borne away by his\nevangelical zeal, that he claims for the Gospel, not only the glory of\nfirst revealing, but the exclusive right of ever practising, the\nduties of religious veracity. None but historical believers have the\nleast title to attach any sacredness to their convictions, or to feel\nany hesitation about denying them. What business have the authors of\nthe \"Phases of Faith,\" and the \"Creed of Christendom,\" to any better\nmorality of belief than Gallio or Lucian? If they have not fallen back\ninto the Pagan indifferentism, they _ought_ to have done so, and our\nauthor will continue very indignant till they do. He is offended with\nMr. Newman for asking judgment on his \"argument and himself, as before\nthe bar of God\"; and with Mr. Greg for saying that, in the process of\nchanging cherished beliefs, \"the pursuit of truth is a daily\nmartyrdom,\" and for giving \"honor to those who encounter it, saddened,\nweeping, trembling, but unflinching still!\" And he is not ashamed to\ndeclare that the guileless veracity which in himself would be a\nmartyr's constancy, would be in another an overweening conceit. So\nastonishing, logically and ethically, are his statements on this\nsubject, and so curiously do they determine his intellectual position,\nthat we must present them in his own words:--\n\n\"We Christian men of this age, along with our venerated martyr\nbrethren of the ancient Church, in making this profession,--that we\nmay not lie to God, nor deny before men our inward conviction in\nmatters of religion; we (as they did) affirm that which is consistent\nwithin itself, and which, in the whole extent of its meaning, is\ncertain and is reasonable, grant us only our initial postulate, that\nChristianity is from heaven.\n\n\"But how is it, when this same solemn averment comes from the lips of\nthose who deny that postulate, and who scorn to recognize the voice of\nGod in the BOOK? It is just thus; and those whom it concerns so to do,\nowe it to the world and to themselves to make the ingenuous avowal.\n\n\"In the first place, the style and the very terms employed by these\nwriters in enouncing the fact of the martyrdom they are undergoing,\nare all a flagrant plagiarism, and nothing better! A claim, in behalf\nof the Gospel, must be made of what is its own, and which these\nwriters, without leave asked, have appropriated. As to every word and\nphrase upon which the significance of this their profession turns, it\nmust be given up, leaving them in possession of so much only of the\nmeaning of such phrases as would have been intelligible to PLUTARCH,\nto PORPHYRY, and to M. AURELIUS. A surrender must be made of the words\nCONSCIENCE, and TRUTH, and RIGHTEOUSNESS, and SIN; and, alas! modern\nunbelievers must be challenged to give me back that ONE awe-fraught\nNAME which they (must I not plainly say so?) have stolen out of the\nBOOK; when they have frankly made this large surrender, we may return\nto them the \u03c4\u03bf \u03b8\u03b5\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd of classical antiquity.\n\n\"Yet this plagiarism, as to terms, is the smaller part of that invasion\nof rights with which the same persons are chargeable. It is reasonable,\nand it is what a good man _must_ do, to suffer anything rather than deny\na persuasion, which is such that he could not, if he would, cast it off.\nSo it was with the early Christian martyrs; their persuasion of the\ntruth of the Gospel had become part of themselves; it was faith\nabsolute, in the fullest sense of the word. The same degree of\nirresistible persuasion attaches to the conclusions of mathematical or\nphysical science; but it can never belong to an opinion, or to an\nundefined abstract belief. A man may indeed choose to die rather than\ncontradict his personal persuasion of the truth of an opinion; but in\ndoing so he has no right to take to himself the martyr's style. So to\nspeak is to exhibit, not constancy, but opinionativeness, or an\noverweening confidence in his own reasoning faculty.\n\n\"Polycarp could not have refused to die when the only alternative was\nto blaspheme CHRIST, his Lord; but Plutarch could not have been\nrequired to suffer in attestation of his opinion,--good as it\nwas,--that the poets have done ill in attributing the passions and the\nperturbations of human nature to the immortal gods; nor Seneca, in\nbehalf of those astronomical and meteorological theories with which he\nentertains himself and his friend Lucilius.\n\n\"When those who, after rejecting Christianity, talk of suffering for the\n'truth of God,' and speak as if they were conscience-bound 'toward God,'\nthey must know that they not only borrow a language which they are not\nentitled to avail themselves of, but that they invade a ground of\nreligious belief whereon they can establish for themselves no right of\nstanding. They may indeed profess what _opinion_ they please as to the\nDivine attributes; but they cannot need to be told that which the\nmisgivings of their own hearts so often whisper to them, that all such\nopinions are, at the very best, open to debate, and must always be\nindeterminate, and that at this time their own possession of the opinion\nwhich just now they happen to cling to, is, in the last degree,\nprecarious. How then can martyrdom be transacted among those whose\ntreading is upon the fleecy clouds of undemonstrable religious\nfeeling?\"--pp. 92-94\n\nIf, being orthodox, you die at the stake, you are a martyr; if, being\nheretic,--why, then you are a man burnt;--a doctrine which Robert Hall\ncompressed within the narrowest compass, when he said, \"It is the\nsaint which makes the martyr, not the martyr the saint.\" This is the\nvery Gospel of intolerance; and whoever preaches it may feel assured\nthat he can lend no help in any worthy \"Restoration of Belief\"; for he\nis himself infected with the most profound and penetrating of\nscepticisms,--scepticisms of moral realities. The rule, \"that we may\nnot lie to God, nor deny before men our inward conviction in matters\nof religion,\" is, in our author's view, the gift and glory of\nChristianity. Be it so. This rule either holds for all men at all\ntimes, or it does _not_; if there be persons who, notwithstanding it,\n_may_ lie to God, and deny their inward conviction, then the\nScriptures, in communicating it, have revealed no universal principle\nof duty, no obligation having its seat in the nature of things and the\nconstitution of the human soul, but a mere sectional by-law, an\narbitrary precept for the security and good ordering of one exclusive\ncommunity. Then must we talk of it no more so exceedingly proudly, as\nif it were a hidden truth revealed, a latent beauty opened; it is no\npart of the holy legislation of the universe, but a statutory\nenactment under which we fall, or from which we escape, as we pass in\nor out at the door of a certain historical belief. Need we say that\nthis side of the alternative strips Christianity of every pretension\nto be a moral revelation at all? If, to take the other side, the rule\nin question _does_ hold for all men, then it is no less binding on Mr.\nNewman and Mr. Greg than on our author; and in bowing to its authority\nand owning its sanctity, they render a homage as devoutly true as his,\nonly different in this, that, while they feel no disturbance from his\nkneeling in the sanctuary at their side, he cannot be at peace till he\nhas sprung to his feet and hurled them from the place. They are guilty\nof \"plagiarism\" forsooth! And in what? In knowing their duty, without\nknowing where they learned it! O shame upon this greediness, that\nwould turn moral truth itself, and struggling aspiration, into a\nproperty! As if Christ were one to stand upon the copyright of\nrevelation, and, unless his name were in the title-page, would suffer\nneither thought nor prayer to dedicate itself to God! Our author, as\npublic prosecutor in the Supreme Court, demands that the defendants\nshall empty themselves out of every earnest sentiment, and surrender\nback the words CONSCIENCE, and TRUTH, and RIGHTEOUSNESS, and SIN, and\nGOD, \"as _stolen_ from the BOOK\"! What then was \"the Book\" given for,\nbut that it might freely furnish these?--and how better can it fulfil\nits end, than by opening for them a sacred welcome wherever the\n_things_ are which they disclose? Let their spirit breathe where it\nlisteth; it will not be less a Holy Spirit that we know not \"whence it\ncometh\": nor let it be forgot how old a feature of evangelic blessing\nit is, that \"he that was healed _wist not who it was_.\" As \"the Book\"\ndoes not, by its presence, _create_ the facts which it reveals, so\nneither does its absence or rejection _destroy_ them. Conscience, as\nan element of human nature, does not come or go,--God, as reality in\nthe universe, does not live or perish,--according as the Bible is kept\nin the pocket or laid upon the shelf; even if their first _witness_\nwere in Scripture, _they themselves_ are in the world,--as active, as\nnear, as certain, in the transactions of to-day, as in the affairs of\ndistant history. Scientific truth, once well ascertained, can take\ncare of itself, without being everywhere attended by the report of its\nfirst discovery; it is in the safe keeping of the objects on which it\nwrites a new meaning, and the phenomena amid which it introduces a\nfresh symmetry. And moral truth, when once embodied and revealed, is\nnot less independent of its earliest expression; it finds its response\nin human consciousness, its reflection from human life, and weaves\nitself up into the very fabric of many souls, whose pattern bears no\nmotto of its origin. Thus \"revelation\"--just in proportion as it is\nrevelation, and tells us what is cognate to ourselves, and bound up\nwith the realities around us--passes of necessity into \"natural\nreligion\"; and precisely according to the measure in which it does so,\nwill it acquire strength and permanence, and dispense with evidence by\nmerging into self-evidence. Did it awaken in us _no_ confirming\nexperience, did it _nowhere_ link itself with the visible system of\nthings,--then, solving nothing, glorifying nothing, missed by all the\nmoving indices of nature and Providence, it would sit apart, and\nbecome incredible. That could hardly be a truth at all, which, after\nroaming the world and searching the soul for eighteen centuries, has\nfound no _natural_ ground on which to rest, and must wander as an\n_ipse dixit_ still. And if natural ground it has acquired, _that_ is\nsurely a proper basis for its present support; it may innocently cease\nto be held on mere authority; the very \"plagiarism\" so vehemently\ndenounced is rather the fulfilment than the destruction of the faith,\nfor it is only that men no longer resort to an oracle for things which\nthe oracle has enabled them to see for themselves.\n\nOur Christian advocate, however, is not content with reserving to his\nside the sole power of _discerning_ the duty of religious veracity; he\nfurther claims the sole right to _practise_ it. He teaches that it is\n_not binding_ on all men at all times; and that its obligation is in\nany case conditional on the \"initial postulate, that Christianity is\nfrom heaven.\" He thinks, apparently, that the duty is not so much\n_revealed_ as _constituted_ by the Gospel, so as to have no existence\nbeyond the pale. We can collect from his words two considerations,\nunder whose influence he seems to pronounce this strange judgment. He\nevidently assumes that the duty of veracious profession is contingent\npartly on the _object-matter_ of belief; partly on the _degree of\nevidence_. If my faith is directed towards _a Person_, then, he\nimplies, there is treachery, even blasphemy, in denying it; but if\nnot, my disclaimer gives no one any title to complain, and I cannot be\nexpected to die on behalf of a proposition. Polycarp must not renounce\nChrist, his Lord; but Plutarch might very properly recant, without at\nall altering, his judgment against the poets, for ascribing passions\nto the gods. Is it so, indeed? Then there is no harm in a lie, unless\nsome one is betrayed or insulted by it besides the hearers whom we\ndeceive,--and we may report as falsely as we please our persuasion\nabout _things_, provided we are true to our sentiments about\n_persons_? With full recollection of the questionable verdicts, on\nproblems of veracity, which are given by Xenophon and Plato, Aristotle\nand Cicero, we doubt whether any Pagan moralist can be quoted in favor\nof a doctrine so unworthy as this. The author seems to imagine that\nthe obligation to speak the truth is a mere duty of personal\naffection; and that in the absence of this element, its claims\naltogether disappear. Identifying falsehood with detraction and\ningratitude, he concludes that, since an abstract theory is insensible\nto what people say about it, and can have no services owing to it, it\nmay be blamelessly repudiated by those who really believe it. This is\ntantamount to an expunging of veracity from the list of human duties\naltogether; for it gives importance to what is purely accidental, and\nslights what is alone essential to it. The conditions of a lie, in all\nits full-blown wickedness, are quite complete, when there is a person\nto speak it, a person to hear it, and a social state to be the theatre\nof the deception; should there be also a person _spoken of_, that is a\ncircumstance in no way requisite to constitute the guilt, but a\nsupplementary condition, flinging in a new element of pravity, and\nturning falsehood into faithlessness. The introduction of this\nadditional person into the case may doubtless render the offence much\nmore flagrant, especially if he be one who has acknowledged claims on\ngratitude and reverence. Calumny and perfidy are justly held in deeper\nabhorrence than equivocation unstained with malignity. But to be\nunaffected by the criminality till it kindles with this diabolical\nglare, and not even to believe in it unless it smells sulphurous and\nburns red, betrays a perception too much accustomed to melodramatic\ncontrasts of representation to appreciate the more delicate tints and\nfiner moral lights of the real and open day. And so far from the glory\nof martyrdom being heightened by the presence of deep personal\naffection as its inspiration, this very circumstance renders the act a\nless arduous sacrifice; just as to fall in the hot blood of battle may\nneed less heroism of will, than to die under the knife upon the\nsurgeon's table. In proportion as the denial of Christ in the hour of\ntrial would be the more intolerable blasphemy, must the temptation to\nit be less overwhelming, and the merit of a good confession less\namazing. And those who, in matters touching no such deep affection,\ncan yet be true,--those who, in simple clearness of conscience, can\ndispense, if need be, with the help of enthusiasm, and so shut their\nlips against a lie, that not the searing iron can open them,--those\nwho do not want a grand occasion, but just as certainly use the\nsmallest, to fling back the thing that is not,--have assuredly a soul\nof higher prowess and more severely proved fidelity to God. And it is\na heartless thing to turn round upon these men, and taunt them with\nhaving no one at whose feet to lay their offering, and no popular\nsympathy to redeem their uprightness from the imputation of conceit.\n\nThere is, however, another consideration which weighs with our author in\ngranting to \"modern unbelievers\" a dispensation from the duty of\nreligious veracity. They have only a \"personal persuasion\" resting on\nprecarious grounds, and not the certitude attaching to \"the conclusions\nof mathematical and physical science\"; and it would be folly to suffer\non behalf of \"_undemonstrable_ religious feeling\"! Are we then to lay it\ndown as a canon in ethics, that intensity of assurance is the measure of\nour obligation to speak the truth,--so that we are to state our\ncertainties correctly, but may tell lies about our doubts? If so,\nscrupulous fidelity is incumbent on us only within the limits of\ndeductive science and of immediate personal observation; and in the\ngreat sphere of _human_ affairs, in matters of historical, moral, and\npolitical judgment, nay, in the incipient stage of all knowledge, we may\nsay and unsay, may play fast and loose with our convictions, according\nas the favor or the fear of men hangs over us. Newton was bound to stand\nby his \"Principia\"; but Locke might have renounced his treatise on\nGovernment and taken his oath to the divine rights of kings! Were he\nindeed to refuse so easy a compliance, it would be a great reflection\nupon his modesty; for if a man, on being threatened with death, will not\nbelie his own persuasion of probable truth, he is chargeable with\n\"overweening confidence in his own reasoning faculty\"! It is happy for\nthe world that it does not always except the morals of the Church, but\nbrings an unperverted feeling to correct the twisted logic of belief.\n\"Opinion,\" a wise man has said, \"is but knowledge in the making\"; and\nhow little knowledge would get made, if opinion were emptied of its\nconscience, and looked on itself as an egotism rather than a trust! If\nthere is one fruit of intellectual culture which more than another\ndignifies and ennobles it, it is the scrupulous reverence it trains for\nthe smallest reality, its watchfulness for the earliest promise of\ntruth, its tender care of every stamen in the blossoming of thought,\nfrom whose flower-dust the seed of a richer futurity may grow. To cut\nagainst this fine veracious sense with the weapons of unappreciating\nsarcasm, and crush its objects into the ground as weeds with the heel of\northodox scorn, is a feat which can advance the step of Christian\nevidence only by betraying the Christian ethics. Our author has\nentangled himself in the metaphor indicated by the word \"_martyrdom_\";\nhe thinks of the confessor as _bearing witness_ to something,--which is\nindeed quite true; and supposes that the things to which he bears\nwitness must be _the facts or doctrines_ held by him; and _this_ is not\ntrue at all. For that which we attest in the hour of persecution is\nsimply _our own state of mind; our belief_, and not the object believed.\nWe are required to utter words, or to perform acts, that shall give\nreport of our persuasion; this persuasion is a fact in our personal\npsychology about which there is no ambiguity; which, as a presence in\nour consciousness, is wholly unaffected by the question how it got\nthere, and by what logical tenure it holds its seat. Whether we have\ndemonstrated it into the mind or fetched it thither in a dream, whether\nwe had it yesterday or shall continue to have it to-morrow, are matters\nin no way altering the fact that it is there; and if we say \"No\" to it,\nwhile conscious of a \"Yes,\" the sin is neither greater when the belief\nconcerns the properties of a geometric solid, nor less when it touches\nsome indeterminate problem of metaphysics. The logical ground of our\njudgments is various without end,--perception, testimony, reasoning, in\nevery possible combination. But the persuasion, once attained, is a\nsimple phenomenon, whose affirmation, or denial, being always positively\ntrue, cannot change its moral complexion with every shade in the\nevidence now left behind. It is plain that, in our author's favorite\ncase of martyrdom, no testimony could be borne by the Christian to\nanything but his own conviction. Polycarp and Cyprian could only answer\nin the face of death, that they were Christians; it was not \"on behalf\nof\" any outward fact, but simply because they would not belie their\ninward belief, that they laid down their lives. And had Plutarch been\ndragged before some anthropomorphist inquisition, and been called on\npublicly to declare his belief that the immortal gods were well and\ntruly painted by the poets as having passions like mankind, the lie to\nwhich he was tempted would have been precisely of the same kind; and had\nit passed his lips, would have made him despicable as an apostate. He\nhad no power, nor had the Church confessor, over the truth or evidence\nof his opinion; neither of them had any _witness_, in the strict sense,\nto bear; but both might veraciously scorn to deny a fact unambiguously\npresent to their self-knowledge. If the heathen's firmness is an example\nof \"overweening confidence in his own reasoning faculty,\" by what\nfavoring difference does the Christian's escape the same imputation?\nThat his faith is \"absolute,\" his persuasion \"irresistible,\" so far from\nfurnishing a vindication, only avows the fact that his \"confidence\" is\nintense; whether it be \"overweening\" too, must depend on the proportion\nbetween the certitude he feels and the grounds of just assurance he\npossesses. But at all events it is a confidence--in this case as in the\nother--undeniably reposed \"_in his own reasoning faculty_.\" How else\ncould any belief--except a groundless belief--reach the convert's mind\nat all? It is vain to pretend that the receivers of an historic doctrine\nplant their reliance piously on God, while its rejecters proudly trust\nthemselves. There is no less subjective action of the mind on the\npositive side than on the negative; and on the soundness of that action\ndoes the worth of the result in either instance depend. The evidence on\nboth sides comes into the same court of criticism; and pleading and\ncounter-pleading must ask a hearing from the same judicial intelligence.\nIf our author refers the Gospels to the first century, and his opponents\nto the second; if he finds a miracle in the gift of tongues, they a\ndelusion; if he thinks that the reasoning out of the Old Testament in\nthe New is exegetically and logically sound, they that it is in both\nrespects unsound;--is he not concerned with the same topics, conducting\nthe same processes, liable to the same mistaken estimates, as they? How\nthen can he flatter himself that the same thing is believed on one\ntenure, and disbelieved on quite another? How affect, even while playing\nthe advocate, to be raised above the contingencies of the \"reasoning\nfaculty,\" and entitled to rebuke its pride? How renounce it for himself,\nappeal to it for your _as_sent, abuse it for your _dis_sent, in the\nwayward course of two or three pages?\n\nOur author stands, therefore, in spite of every effort to escape it,\non the same logical ground as his opponents; and they, notwithstanding\nhis objection to their companionship, are on the same footing of\nreligious obligation with himself. He is offended to find such a one\nas Mr. Newman on the same sacred pavement, and to overhear from\nunbelieving lips the genuine tones of prayer; and, thanking God,\napprises men that he \"is not as this publican.\" He prosecutes for\ntrespass all who, after rejecting his Christianity, can dare to\nprofess allegiance to the \"truth of God,\" and \"speak _as if they were\nconscience-bound towards God_.\" Are they then _not_ so bound? Has no\none a conscience except the approved historical believer? Is it not in\nothers also a Divine voice,--a Holy Spirit,--which to resist and\nstifle were the true and only \"Infidelity\"? Surely the faith in God,\nand the earnest acceptance of the laws of duty as the expression of\nhis authority, are not forbidden to men who cannot assume the\ndisciple's style. These sentiments, so far from waiting on revelation\nfor their possibility, are the pre-requisite conditions of all\nrevelation, the state of mind to which it speaks, the secret power by\nwhich it finds us out; and if men cannot be \"conscience-bound towards\nGod\" _before and without_ Christianity, never can they become so\n_after it and with it_. It does not take us up as atheists and brutes,\nand supply us with the faculties as well as the substance of faith;\nelse were there no medium of suasion across the boundary of\nunbelief;--but it appeals to us as knowing much and aspiring to\nmore,--as already before the face, only shrinking from the clear look\nof God,--as feeling the divine restraint upon us of justice, purity,\nand truth, but unable, without some emancipating power, to turn it\ninto freedom and joy. This spirit of profound sympathy, not of\narrogant insult, towards the highest faiths and affections of our\nnature, we recognize in the portraiture and teachings of Jesus Christ;\nand when we find one who, like our author, instead of rejoicing that\nthe sacred embers of nature are yet warm, instead of kneeling over\nthem to fan them with a breath of reverence into a flame, flings them\nwith scattering scorn on the damp ground of his own moral scepticism\nto show how little they will burn,--we see reversed in the \"Restorer\nof Belief\" the divine temper of the \"Author of Faith.\" Such a teacher\nwill vainly endeavor to recover by severity of warning the influence\nhe forfeits by want of sympathy. He cannot frighten men like Parker,\nNewman, Greg, by appealing to fancied \"misgivings of their own hearts\"\nrespecting the precariousness of their convictions, and uttering\ndismal prophecies about yawning gulfs; which, however alarming as a\nshudder of rhetoric, can disturb no quiet trust in reality. Let us\nhear the words, however:--\n\n\"Educated men should not wait to be reminded that those who, after\nabandoning a peremptory historic belief, endeavor to retain Faith and\nPiety for their comfort, stand upon a slope that has no ledges:\nAtheism in its simplest form yawns to receive those who there stand;\nand they know themselves to be gravitating towards it.\n\n\"It would be far more reasonable for a man to die as a martyr for\nAtheism,--a stage beyond which no further progress is possible,--than\nto do so at any point short of that terminus, knowing as he does that\nevery day is bringing him nearer to the gulf. The stronger the mind\nis, and the more it has of intellectual massiveness, the more rapid\nwill be its descent upon this declivity. Minds of little density, and\nof much airy sentiment, may stay long where they are, just as gnats\nand flies walk to and fro upon the honeyed sides of a china vase; they\ndo not go down, but never again will they fly.\"--p. 94.\n\nThis is one of the conventional minatory arguments which betray the\nabsence of security and repose from the heart of the received\ntheology; whose teachers could never propound it, except from a\nposition of conscious danger. They must imagine in their own case\nthat, if they were to find the Gospels no longer oracular, they would\nplunge at once into endless depths of negation; and that, unless they\ncan refute an interpretation of De Wette's, or correct a date of\nBaur's, there will be eternal night in heaven. They feel the universe,\nand life, and love, and sorrow, and the history of times and races\nunbaptized, to be all atheistic through and through,--profane to the\ncore,--untraced by a vestige, untransfigured by a color, of divine\nsignificance. What they can think of a Being who creates all reality\nand lives in it on these blindfold terms, we will not attempt to\ndecide; but it is no wonder that, having once brought themselves to\nbelieve in Him, they feel how a single move would overset them into\ndisbelief. This thing, however, is true of their own state of mind\nalone; whose spaces, dark throughout with scepticism but for one\ndistant lamp, might easily be left without a ray. It is consistent\nneither with reason nor with experience to threaten with this rule men\nwho have opened their souls to something else than documentary\nauthority. It is notoriously false that the career of historic doubt\nusually terminates in the loss of all faith in God; nor do we suppose\nthat our author would have awarded to the atheist, for actually\nreaching this point, the praise of \"intellectual massiveness,\" had he\nnot wanted a heavy weight to slide down his metaphorical inclined\nplane,[57] and outstrip the slippery believers who try to stop\nhalf-way. The accusation against Theism, of being possible to the\nlight-minded and superficial,--a mere sweet-bait to entrap the silly\ninsects of the intellectual world,--is confuted by the whole history\nof philosophy and human culture; all whose grandest names have\nconnected themselves with the recognition of a religion indigenous or\naccessible to the faculties of the soul. Let our author collect on one\nside of his library all the giants and heroes of utter disbelief, and\non the other the literature of natural faith; nay, let him ransack for\nfresh names and forgotten suffrages Lalande's \"Dictionnaire des\nAth\u00e9es\"; and if, having weighed the various merits of Leucippus and\nLucretius, of Baron d'Holbach and La Mettrie, of Robert Owen and\nAtkinson, he thinks them of more sterling mass than the pure gold of\nthought and life accumulated by Socrates, Plato, Antoninus,--by Anselm\nand Abelard, Descartes and Arnaud,--by the authors of the \"Theodic\u00e9e,\"\nthe \"Essay on the Human Understanding,\" and the \"Principles of Human\nKnowledge,\"--by Kant and Cousin,--by Butler and Paley and Arnold,--we\ncan only profess a dissent from his intellectual taste, not less than\nfrom his moral judgment.\n\nThe few pages on which we have been commenting were the first--though\nthey are near the end of the treatise--that fully opened our eyes to\nthe author's theological _animus_. For a while, his large professions,\nand, no doubt, sincere purpose of fairness,--his apparent breadth of\nview, and his free hand in putting down his subject on the\ncanvas,--secured our admiring confidence, and made us feel that here\nat length justice, earnestness, and accomplishment will go together.\nOne feature, indeed, we noticed as giving a suspicious appearance to\nhis equity of temper; it displays itself more in censoriousness\ntowards his friends, than in large-heartedness towards his\nantagonists. He readily allows faults in the advocates of his own\nside, but is never carried away into even a momentary appreciation of\nthe other. This particular form of impartiality, which consists in\ndetracting from the merits of allies, instead of delighting in those\nof opponents, is the ecclesiastic counterfeit of candor,--the\nhalf-shekel, which is alone payable in the temple-service, but which\nnowhere, save at the sacred money-table, is deemed equivalent to the\ngood Roman coin of common life. Much as we dislike the chink of this\nconsecrated metal, we hoped that it would only ring for a passing\ninstant on the ear. But alas! it is an indication seldom deceptive;\nand we feel constrained to report that there are, in this tract,\nquotations from both Mr. Newman and Mr. Greg, which, if we were in the\ncourt of veracity, and not of theology, we would say are\nunconscientiously made. The quotations are made anonymously as well as\nunfaithfully, so that the reader, unless haunted by the checking\nimpressions of memory, cannot correct the injustice of the writer. The\n\"Phases of Faith\" describes, it will be remembered, the gradual course\nof Mr. Newman's defections from his original orthodoxy. His first\nmovements of doubt were naturally timid and inconsiderable, bringing\nhim only to the conclusion, that the genealogy in the first chapter of\nMatthew was copied wrong, and counted wrong, from the Old Testament.\nOn this step followed a second, and a third, each more important than\nthe preceding, and necessitating a next more momentous than itself.\nThe latter stages of his progress included an inquiry into the\nevidence of the Resurrection, the miraculous gifts ascribed to the\nearly Church, the claims to credit of the Apostle Paul, and other\ntopics, undeniably affecting the very essence of Christian evidence.\nHaving traced the successive advances of his doubts, Mr. Newman, in a\nrecapitulary \"Conclusion,\" makes a solemn appeal to his readers, to\nsay at what point he could have stopped, and to lay a finger\ndistinctly on the place at which the guilt of his scepticism began.\nOne by one he counts out the steps by which he had proceeded, and\nasks, \"Was this the sinful one?\" The whole effect of the appeal is\ncertainly an impression that the series, if not an inevitable\nsequence, is very difficult to break; and that, small as the\nbeginnings were, they linked themselves, by close connection, with\nvery momentous results. From this chapter our author cites a sentence\nor two, but in such a way as immediately to conjoin the small initial\nsteps of doubt with the great ultimate conclusion, and to make it\nappear that Mr. Newman renounced Christianity because he could not\nmake out the pedigree of Jesus to his satisfaction. The genealogical\ndifficulty is the only one which he quotes, and as to which Mr. Newman\nis permitted to speak for himself. Presenting this as a specimen, and\nsuppressing all the rest, he says that he could have shown \"this\nwriter\" a course far better \"than, on account of difficulties _such as\nthese_, to renounce Christianity\"! His citation from Mr. Greg is\nintroduced as follows:--\n\n\"Let another witness be heard; and in hearing him one might think that\nhis words are an echo that has come softly travelling down, through\nsixteen centuries, from some field of blood, or some forum, or some\namphitheatre, where Christian men were witnessing a good confession in\nthe midst of their mortal agonies! _This_ witness is one who assures\nus that 'he can believe no longer, he can worship no longer; he has\ndiscovered that the creed of his early days is baseless, or\nfallacious.' Yet he too takes up the MARTYR TRUTH, that we must not\nlie to God.\"--p. 91.\n\nHere, then, Mr. Greg (with concealment of his name) is represented as\none who, by his own confession, _can neither believe nor worship any\nmore_. Turning to the preface of \"The Creed of Christendom,\" we find\nthe following original to this quotation:--\n\n\"The pursuit of truth is easy to a man who has no human sympathies,\nwhose vision is impaired by no fond partialities, whose heart is torn by\nno divided allegiance. To him the renunciation of error presents few\ndifficulties; for the moment it is recognized as error, its charm\nceases. But the case is very different with the Searcher whose\naffections are strong, whose associations are quick, whose hold upon the\nPast is clinging and tenacious. He may love Truth with an earnest and\nparamount devotion; but he loves much else also. He loves errors, which\nwere once the cherished convictions of his soul. He loves dogmas which\nwere once full of strength and beauty to his thoughts, though now\nperceived to be baseless or fallacious. He loves the Church where he\nworshipped in his happy childhood; where his friends and his family\nworship still; where his gray-haired parents await the resurrection of\nthe Just; but where _he_ can worship and await no more. He loves the\nsimple old creed, which was the creed of his earlier and brighter days;\nwhich is the creed of his wife and children still; but which inquiry has\ncompelled him to abandon. The past and the familiar have chains and\ntalismans which hold him back in his career, till every fresh step\nforward becomes an effort and an agony; every fresh error discovered is\na fresh bond snapped asunder; every new glimpse of light is like a fresh\nflood of pain poured in upon the soul. To such a man the pursuit of\nTruth is a daily martyrdom,--how hard and bitter let the martyr tell.\nShame to those who make it doubly so; honor to those who encounter it\nsaddened, weeping, trembling, but unflinching still.\"--p. xvi.\n\nOur author would snatch from Mr. Greg the right to say, we must not lie\nto God. Which has the better right to say, \"Thou shalt not lie to men\"?\n\nThe more ingenuously the modern Orthodoxy lays bare its essence, the\nmore evident is it that a profound scepticism not only mingles with it,\nbut constitutes its very inspiration. The dread of losing God, the\nimpression that there is but one patent way, not of duty, but of\nthought, of meeting him, haunt the minds of men, driving some to\nAnglicanism to compensate defect of faith by excess of sacrament, some\nto Rome in quest of the Lord's body, and prompting others to\nconservative efforts of Bibliolatry, conducted with ever-decreasing\nreason and declining hope. We have seen, however, no such\nexemplification of this radical distrust as in the treatise before us.\nAlready has the writer declared that the moral side of the universe\nsends in, with regard to religion, an empty report. And now he hastens\nto tell us that, on the physical side, the watchmen from every\nobservatory of nature cry out, \"No God.\" He represents the natural\nsciences as a huge Titanic, resistless mass of knowledge, perfectly\ndemonstrable, and completely irreligious; descending, like a glacier,\nfrom the upper valleys of frozen thought; sure to scrape away the wild\npine woods and the green fields of natural religion, yet considerate\nenough, for some reason unexplained, to spare the foundations of the\nvillage church. Designating every faith except his own by such phrases\nas \"theosophic fancies,\" and \"pietistic notions,\" he assures us that\nthey will all be put \"right out of existence\" by \"our modern physical\nsciences\"; and he borrows from the \"Positive Philosophy\" (apparently by\nunconscious sympathy) the following maxim to justify his prediction:--\n\n\"In any case, when that which on any ground of proof takes full hold\nof the understanding, (such, for example, are the most certain of the\nconclusions of Geology,) stands contiguous to that which, in a logical\nsense, is of inferior quality, and is indeterminate, and fluctuating,\nand liable to retrogression,--in any such case there is always going\non a silent encroachment of the more solid mass upon the ground of\nthat which is less solid. What is SURE will be pressing upon what is\nuncertain, whether or not the two are designedly brought into\ncollision or comparison. What is well defined weighs upon, and\nagainst, what is ill defined. Nothing stops the continuous involuntary\noperation of SCIENCE in dislodging OPINION from the minds of those who\nare conversant with both.\n\n\"A very small matter that is indeed determinate, will be able to keep\na place for itself against this incessantly encroaching movement; but\nnothing else can do so. As to any of those theosophic fancies which we\nmay wish to cling to, after we have thrown away the Bible, we might as\nwell suppose that they will resist the impact of the mathematical and\nphysical sciences, as imagine that the lichens of an Alpine gorge will\nstay the slow descent of a glacier.\"--p. 97.\n\nHere it is alleged that Science and Opinion cannot coexist,--that the\ndemonstrable will banish the probable. And be it observed, this is to\ntake place, not simply where contradiction arises between the two orders\nof belief, but in _all cases_, from the mere _distaste_ which\nquantitative studies produce towards everything which evades their\nrules. In this allegation there is, we believe, with much exaggeration,\na certain small amount of truth,--a truth, however, which, so far from\nsupporting our author's plea against natural religion, offers it a\nconclusive refutation. It may be admitted that the exact and mixed\nsciences _do_ disincline their votary to put trust in the processes by\nwhich judgments of probability are formed, and alienate him from\nthinkers who read off the meaning of the universe by another key than\nhis. Accustomed to deal with Number and Space, with Motion and Force\nalone,--to reason upon them by a Calculus which is helpless beyond their\nrange,--to exercise Faculties involving nothing beyond the\ninterpretation of mensurative signs and the conception of relative\nmagnitudes,--he owes it to something else than his peculiar discipline,\nif he has either the instruments or the aptitudes for moral and\nphilosophical reflection. He carries into the world, as his sole means\nof representing and solving its phenomena, the notion of physical\nnecessity and linear sequence, secretly defining the universe to himself\nas Leibnitz defined an organized being,--\"a machine, whose smallest\nparts are also machines,\"--and naturally grows impatient when he finds\nhimself in fields of thought over which this narrow imagination opens no\ntrack. With respect, therefore, to a certain class of minds, rendered\nperhaps increasingly numerous by the long neglect of the moral sciences\nin England, it may be quite true, that a spirit of utter disbelief\ntowards everything beyond the range of necessary matter may more and\nmore prevail. Let us further grant to our author, for the moment, three\nthings assumed by him, all of them, however, false:--1. That this\ntendency of the \"demonstrable sciences\" is their _only_ one having a\nbearing on \"theosophic systems.\" 2. That it is so _new_, at least in\ndegree, as to give \"opinion\" a worse chance for the future than it has\nhad in the past. 3. That it is a _good_ tendency, favorable to human\nknowledge and character. Still we must ask, How is the _oracular\nauthority of the Bible_ to escape the fate predicted for all\nprobabilities? Our author assures us that it _will_ escape; but he gives\nno faintest hint of a reason for so singular an exception to his own\ncanon. It cannot be contended that the evidences of Christianity and\nJudaism belong to any of the \"demonstrable\" or \"physical\" sciences. It\ncannot be denied that they lie wholly within the limits of contingent\nknowledge, and terminate only in \"probabilities\"; that the authorship,\nfor instance, of the fourth Gospel, the credibility of the introductory\nchapters of Matthew, the correctness of the prophecies about the second\nadvent, are matters which, \"standing contiguous\" to the laws of\nrefracted and reflected light, occupy the position of the _less sure_ in\nrelation to the _more sure_; that the _relative_ chronology of the\nScripture books is more indeterminate than that of the geologic strata,\nand their _actual_ dates more uncertain than those of the eclipses fatal\nto Nicias and to Perseus. What, then, is to exempt these judgments of\nverisimilitude from being pushed \"right out of existence\" by the \"silent\nencroachment of the more solid mass\" of knowledge beside it? Nothing can\nbe plainer than that all testimonial knowledge whatsoever, all history,\ncriticism, and art, the whole system of moral and political sciences,\nmust fall under our author's fatal sentence; and how the propositions\nwhich sustain the infallible authority of the canonical books are to\nhold their ground against the huge glacier on which Herschel, Airy and\nDe Morgan, Comte and Leverrier, triumphantly ride, it is not easy to\nconceive. Amid the universal crash of probabilities, may not the Mosaic\ntables of stone, broken once, be pulverized at last? With the abrasion\nof all the alluvial soil in which the growths of wonder strike their\nroots, will the garden of Eden, will the blighted fig-tree, remain to\nmark a verdant and a barren spot in history? Will these riding\nphilosophers from their cold observatory find Paul's \"third heaven\"? May\nnot their icy mountain slip into \"the abyss\" whence all the demons came,\nand fill it up? These questions, indeed, are answered for us in\nexperience. It is notorious that, whenever an unbounded devotion to\nscience has produced a prevalent tendency to disbelief, Revelation, so\nfar from being spared, has been usually the first object of attack; and,\nboth at the origin of modern science in the sixteenth century, and\nduring its accelerated advance towards the close of the eighteenth, the\nwidening conception of determinate Law was found to threaten nothing so\ndecisively as the faith in supernatural dispensations. The greater\nscepticism includes the less; and the habit of mind which lets slip all\nbeliefs not legitimated by the canons of natural science, cannot\npossibly retain Christianity.\n\nBut our author has only _half_ described the mental effect of studies\npurely scientific. They do not, in the nature of things they _cannot_,\nsimply push out of the mind all contingent judgments. Human life and\naction are one continuous texture of such judgments, with some\ninterweaving, no doubt, of mathematic forms, which could not be picked\nout without spoiling the symmetry of its pattern; but were you to\nwithdraw the threads of probable opinion, still more, to cut the warp\nof primitive assumptions that stretches through it, the web would\nsimply fall to pieces. No youth can decide on a profession, no man\nappoint an agent in his business, no physician prescribe for a\npatient, no judge pronounce a sentence, no statesman answer a\ndespatch, without a constant resort to \"surmises,\" a reliance on\nslender indications, often even a deliberate adoption of very doubtful\nhypotheses. All men are driven from hour to hour into positions\ndemanding combinations of thought which can be borrowed from no\nnatural science; where not the laws of matter and motion, not the\nequilibrium of forces, not the properties of things, are chiefly\nconcerned, but the feelings and faculties of persons, the action and\nreaction of human affairs. Mathematicians and natural philosophers,\nbeing in no way exempt from these conditions, are obliged to have just\nas many \"opinions\" and \"guesses\" as other men; they cannot, if they\nare to keep their footing on this world at all, have a smaller stock\nthan their neighbors of this \"logically inferior\" order of\npersuasions. They are unable to abdicate the necessity of having these\npersuasions; and their only peculiarity is, that they sometimes import\ninto contingent affairs the methods with which habit has rendered them\nfamiliar in another sphere, and so find the conditions of belief\nunsatisfied; and at others, from consciousness that their own clew\nwill not serve, yet inaptitude for seizing a better, surrender\nthemselves to the fortuitous guidance of ill-balanced faculties and\nexternal solicitations. Hence their judgments are frequently\nfantastic, frequently sceptical,--not less liable to be too easy from\none cause than to be too reluctant from another; and were a history to\nbe written of the most remarkable extravagances, positive as well as\nnegative, by which religion and philosophy have sprung aside from the\ncentre of common sense and feeling, it would contain more names of\ngreat repute in the exact sciences than from any other intellectual\nclass whatever. From Pythagoras to Swedenborg, the eccentricities of\nmathematical and physical imagination have been the chief disturbers\nof a natural and healthy faith. Harmonic theories of the universe,\nIdeal Numbers, Geometric Ethics, Rosicrucian fraternities, Vortices\nand Monads, Apocalyptic studies, New Jerusalems, and Electrobiological\nMetaphysics, have all borne testimony to the aberrant fancy of eminent\nproficients in the sciences. It is, therefore, far from being\nuniversally true, that disputable theosophies and conjectural systems\nof the universe are distasteful to minds schooled in the \"demonstrable\nsciences.\" If to men of this order we owe the successive dislodgement\nof one such hypothesis after another, to them also do we owe their\ncontinual reproduction. Whether the unsoundness of judgment which is\ncontracted in the absence of historical, moral, and metaphysical\nstudies shall show itself in an excessive slowness or an excessive\nfacility of belief, will depend on accidents of personal character and\nsocial position. But of this we may be sure;--if the _sceptical_\ntemper be the direction taken, the Bible will not be spared; if the\n_credulous_, \"theosophic fancies\" will be copiously saved.\n\nCan there, after all, be a more paradoxical spectacle than that of a\nreligious writer allying himself with the sceptical propensities of\nscience, in order to get rid of gainsayers of the Bible? It is the\ncounterpart in logic of the Italian game in politics,--the Pope\nappealing to Parisian swords to drive out the Republic, and save the\nhead of Christendom. Is it possible that our author can _approve_ the\nagency which he thus invokes? that he can really wish to see it in the\nintellectual ascendant, and garrisoning every sacred fortress of the\nworld? Does he remember what are the fundamental canons of its\nlogic,--that we know nothing but Phenomena,--that Causation is nothing\nbut phenomenal priority,--or else, that Force is the prior datum of\nwhich Thought is a particular and posterior development? And what, on\nthe other hand, are the \"theosophic fancies\" against which he would\nplant this barbaric artillery of Fate? They are such as these,--that our\nfaculties give us trustworthy reports, not of phenomena only, but of\ntheir abiding ground,--Soul within, God without;--that the moral Law of\nObligation in the one is the expression of Holy Will in the other;--that\nfaithfulness in the Human mind to its highest aspirations, brings it\ninto communion with the Divine;--that as the Soul is the free Image, so\nis Nature the determinate Handiwork of God. If these doctrines, spurned\nby our author with so rude a flippancy, _were_ to surrender to the\nhostility on which he relies, is he unaware of the character the\nconflict would assume, and of the dynasty of thought which would reign\nundisputed at the close? Fighting by the side of such allies against\n\"theosophic fancies,\" _he_ may skirmish with the \"fancies,\" but _they_\nwill bear right down upon the \"Theism\" in the centre; and when the day\nis over, the standard they will plant upon the conquered towers will\nbe, not the sacred dove he took into the field, and lost to the defeated\nfoe, but their own blind black eagle of necessity. How strange is the\nperversion of instinctive sympathies, when a theologian disparages the\nsciences of reflection and self-knowledge, and takes his stand on the\nevidence of sense and measurement alone!--when he proposes to sweep out\nbeliefs that trouble him with their neighborhood, by a general crusade\nagainst all probabilities,--and when, with this design, he violates the\njust balance of power among the kingdoms of human knowledge, and\nflatters, as if it were a virtue, the pretensions of a mental habit,\nwhich, out of its own province, is one of the most incapacitating, yet\ndestructive, of intellectual vices! There is, however, a certain secret\naffinity of feeling between a Religion which exaggerates the functions\nand overstrains the validity of an external authority, and a Science\nwhich deals only with objective facts, perceived or imagined. The point\nof sympathy is found in a common distrust of everything internal, even\nof the very faculties (as soon as they are contemplated as such) by\nwhich the external is apprehended and received. And between this sort of\nfaith and the mathematics there is another analogy, which may explain so\ncurious a mutual understanding. Both rest upon _hypotheses_, which it is\nbeyond their province to look into, but after the assumption of which,\nall room for opinion is shut out by a rigid necessity. _Once get_ your\ninfallible book, and (supposing the meaning unambiguous) it settles\nevery matter on which it pronounces; and once allow the first principles\nand definitions in geometry to express truths and realities, and you can\ndeny nothing afterwards. It is the business of philosophy to go _below_\nthe mathematics, and determine whether they are _more than hypothetical_\nscience,--whether their assumptions are a mere play of subjective\nnecessity, or are objectively trustworthy. It is the business of both\nreflective philosophy and historical criticism to go below \"the BOOK,\"\nand determine whether it has _more than hypothetical_\ninfallibility,--whether the conditions, inner and outer, of such a\nclaim, are or are not satisfied. If even the Mathematics, which have\nlittle to fear from the investigation of their basis, have not been on\nthe best terms with Metaphysics, it is hardly surprising that a Religion\nof mere external authority should feel antipathy for the studies which\npry into its foundations, with the inevitable effect of showing that\nwhat is _certainty_ above ground is _opinion_ below. Nor is it wonderful\nthat both sets of beliefs are fond of forgetting their hypothetical\norigin, contemplating only their acquired semblance of security, and\nspeaking as if they disowned contingency altogether, and despised the\ndetractors who could suspect such a taint in their blood. Hence the\nfellow-feeling which occasionally unites a rigid theology, and an\nexclusive physical and mathematical science. It is founded on their\njoint antipathy to the sources of _moral_ knowledge,--their common\nblindness to one half of human culture. Like all alliances resting on\nantipathy alone, it is neither honorable nor durable. It is the function\nof Religion to occupy a tranquil seat above the contests of partial\npursuits and narrow interests; as, in the world of action, to hold the\nbalance of Right, so, in the world of intellect, to preserve the\nequities and the equilibrium of Truth; and her trust is betrayed by any\none who flings himself, as her representative, into the civil wars of\nthe sciences, and in her name signs away whole provinces of thought, and\nabandons them to outrage and confiscation as conquered lands. Human\nfaith has nothing to fear from the unity and perfection of all the\nsciences; but much from the blind ambition of each one. It is from this\npersuasion alone, and not from any defective appreciation of physical\nstudies, that we have spoken freely of their tendency, when the mind is\nentirely enclosed within them. The undoubted source of inestimable\nblessings to mankind, and an indispensable element of culture to the\nindividual, they are mischievous only when they grow dizzy with success,\nand propound schemes of universal empire. The moment they undertake\neither to create or destroy a religion, the sign is unmistakable that\nthis intoxicated ambition has begun to work.\n\nThe relation of Religion to History our author appears to us to\nconceive much more correctly than its relation to Science. On this\ngreat topic, however, our limits forbid us to enter. One remark only\nwe will make. The author misconceives the objection of Theodore Parker\nand others to the ordinary doctrine of historical revelation. They do\nnot, as he affirms, \"disjoin religion from history,\" or in the least\ndecline the \"travelling back to ages past\" on its account. It is not\nthe _presence_ of God in antiquity, but his presence _only_\nthere,--not his inspiration in Palestine, but his withdrawal from\nevery spot besides,--not even his supreme and unique expression in\nJesus of Nazareth, but his absence from every other human\nmedium,--against which these writers protest. They feel that the usual\nChristian advocate has adopted a narrow and even irreligious ground;\nthat he has not found a satisfactory place in the Divine scheme of\nhuman affairs for the great Pagan world; that he has presumptuously\nbranded all history but one as \"profane\"; that he has not only read it\nwithout sympathy and reverence, but has used it chiefly as a foil to\nshow off the beauty of evangelic truth and holiness, and so has dwelt\nonly on the inadequacy of its philosophy, the deformities of its\nmorals, the degenerate features of its social life; that he has\nforgotten the Divine infinitude when he assumes that Christ's\nplenitude of the Spirit implies the emptiness of Socrates. In their\nview, he has rashly undertaken to prove, not _one positive_ fact,--a\nrevelation of divine truth in Galilee,--but an _infinite\nnegative_,--no inspiration anywhere else. To this _negation_, and to\nthis alone, is their remonstrance addressed. They do not deny a\n_theophany_ in the gift of Christianity; but they deny two very\ndifferent things, viz.:--1. That this is the _only_ theophany; and, 2.\nThat this is theophany _alone_;--that is, they look for _some_ divine\nelements elsewhere; and they look for _some_ human here. It is not\ntherefore a smaller, but a larger, religious obligation to history,\nwhich they are anxious to establish; and they remain in company with\nthe Christian advocate, so long as his devout and gentle mood\ncontinues; and only quit him when he enters on his sceptical\nantipathies. This, in spite of every resistance from the rigor of the\nolder theology, is an inevitable consequence of the modern historical\ncriticism. Its large and genial apprehension opens for us new\nadmirations, new sympathies, clearer insight into human realities,\nthroughout the nations and ages of the past. It melts away from our\nancient moral geography the ideal contrasts of coloring which made the\nworld the scene of an unnatural dualism, and reinstates the great\nfamilies of man in unity. It is doing for our conception of the moral\nworld what science has already done for our conception of the natural:\nit is expanding our notion of Divine agency within it. As, in\nreference to physical nature, we have learned to think that God did\nnot enact creation but once, and cease; so are we beginning to\nperceive, in relation to the human mind and life, that he did not\nenter history only once, and quite exceptionally. Whoever opens his\nheart to this great thought will find in it, not the uneasiness of\ndoubt, but the repose of faith. He will no longer fancy that, in order\nto keep Christianity as the divinest of all, he must fear to feel\naught else divine. He will worship still at the same altar, and sing\nhis hymn to the same strain; only with a richer chorus of consentient\nvoices, and in a wider communion of faithful souls.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[57] The question has been raised, whether the author of \"The\nRestoration of Belief,\" who presents himself to us through the\nCambridge publisher, is really a University man? To those who are\ncurious about such critical problems, we would suggest this\nconsideration, as having some bearing on the case: \"Could a person who\nhad studied the laws of accelerated motion at the authoritative school\nof English science have so forgotten his formulas as to make his\n_heaviest_ man on that account his _quickest_?\" The authorship,\nhowever, is not less evident than if the book had been published by\nMessrs. Longmans, or by Holdsworth and Ball.\n\n\n\n\nONE GOSPEL IN MANY DIALECTS.\n\n    \"And they were all filled with the Holy Spirit, and began to speak\n    in other tongues, according as the Spirit gave them utterance. And\n    there were sojourning at Jerusalem Jews, devout men, out of every\n    nation under heaven. Now when this was noised abroad, the\n    multitude came together; and they were confounded because every\n    one heard them speaking in his own language.\"--Acts ii. 4-6.\n\n\nIn that marvellous scene, the anniversary of which coincides on this\nWhitsunday with our Centenary, a question long pending between the\nRabbis and the Holy Spirit came to an open issue. They were Aram\u00e6an\nscholars, and had their Kingdom of Heaven set forth in the best\nHebrew, which, true enough, was of no great human currency, and not\nstrictly a living tongue at all; but then had been distinguished by\nDivine use from the earliest time. Was it not in this that the Call\nhad come to Abram? and the promises been repeated to the Patriarchs?\nand the music been flung from the harp of David? and the burdens of\ninspiration been treasured on the Prophet's scroll? Who could quote a\nword that God had ever spoken in any other language? It was the one\nsacred idiom, from which all others are divergent corruptions, and to\nwhich, when the world's confusion is over, they must again return.\nHowever few in these decadent ages might understand it still, it was\nintrinsically fitted to be universal. And who could call _that_ speech\nprovincial, at whose sound the heavens and earth arose? or esteem it\ntemporary, when it persevered through the dispersion at Babel, and\nwas present on the world before the Flood? So there must be nothing\nelse allowed in the liturgies of the Synagogue, in the reading of\nScripture, or in any intercourse between _man and God_. Only when men\nbegan to converse _with one another_, to compare their human thoughts,\nand descend from prophetic to didactic gifts, might they resort to the\nmedia of profaner life. The language of Worship was but one; though\nthe jargons of Opinion were many. And so the Scribes and the Rabbis of\nthe written Word supposed themselves to hold the only key of life.\n\nBut the Holy Spirit goes into no one's keeping, and is no respecter of\ntongues. Free as the wind to blow where it listeth, it sweeps wherever\nsouls are genial to its breath, and will yield to it their gifts, of\nlove, of lips, of life. It seemed to have had enough of Hebrew, ever\nsince it had gone into the hands of the philologists, and been made a\nsacred language, and begun to drone. It had long been feeling its way in\nother directions, tempting men to pray out of the fresh heart, and never\nmind the words, till now at last the secret broke, that on any native\ntongue by which souls most freely flow together, may all pass out to\nGod; that the home-sounds are the devoutest too; that the speech into\nwhich men are born, and which has become to them as a stringed\ninstrument answering to the faintest touch of their affections, is the\ntrue vehicle by which \"the Spirit giveth utterance.\" The prayer of\nfaith, ascending in the idioms of every latitude, converges into one in\nheaven. And God's truth, descending to this world, breaks into all the\nmoulds of expression native to our various race.\n\n_One Gospel in many dialects_,--that is the great Pentecost lesson,\nconstrue the miracle as we may. And there are dialects of _Thought_ as\nwell as speech,--natural differences of temperament and character,--to\nwhich the Gospel, still without prejudice to its unity, adapts itself\nwith the same divine flexibility. What private observer--still more\nwhat student of history--can doubt that we are not all made in the\nsame mould,--that the proportions of our humanity are variously\nmixed,--that not only do we individually differ in moral\nsusceptibility and spiritual depth, but fall into permanent groups\nmarked by distinct and ineradicable characters, and reproducing the\nsame religious tendencies from age to age? Transpose the souls of\nPlato and Pascal into the right place and time, and do you suppose\nthey would turn up as _Latitudinarian Divines_? Deal as you will with\nthe lot of Priestley and Belsham, and could you ever enroll them among\nthe _Christian Mystics_? Close in the fires of Augustine's nature with\nwhat damps you may, and could you ever find him peace in a Gospel of\n_Good Works_? No; we touch here on differences deeper than accident,\nand irremovable by culture,--differences that vindicate their reality\nby crossing the lines of dissimilar religions and reappearing in all\ntimes. They necessarily give us differing wants and experiences; they\nset into differing shapes of faith; and on souls equally faithful they\nfix very differing expressions. They are so many _vernacular idioms of\nthe inner mind_: all have divine right to be: no one of them is\nentitled to call itself the sacred language alone intelligible between\nman and God; and the pretension of any to supersede the rest, and\nreign alone, is not less vain than the complaints of ignorance against\nforeign dialects, and the ambition to exchange the many running waters\nof local literature into the huge tank of a universal language. They\nmay not be able to understand each other, or even with the key of\noutward comparison always bear translation into idioms other than\ntheir own. But let them speak in their own way, and pray their own\nprayer. Not only are they all clear to Him that readeth the heart;\nthere will thus be _more heart for Him to read_: for faith and love,\nlarge as they may be, are ever deepest in their special tones; and the\nprayer, the hymn, which is touched with the spirit's local coloring,\ncomes to us like the aroma of native fields, and assuages our thirst\nlike the sweet waters of some well given to our fathers and made\nsacred by a Saviour's noonday rest.\n\nOn this principle,--that different types of natural genius in men\ncannot but throw their Christianity into different forms,--we may not\nonly justify the divisions of Christendom, but even cease to wish that\nthey should disappear. Unity no doubt there must be: God is one; Truth\nis one; the Gospel is one; and a mind that could take in the whole,\nand spread its insight and affections in all dimensions at once, would\nreach the Divine equilibrium, in which nothing partial preponderates.\nBut from our watch-tower we can look through only one window at once;\nthe blind walls of our mental chamber shut out all the rest; and as we\nkneel, like Daniel, at the open light, the breeze upon our face seems\nsacred, because it comes from our Jerusalem. The question is not,\nwhether there is such a thing as truth, rounded off, self-balanced,\nand complete; in the mind of God,--the final seat of reality,--of\ncourse there is. Nor is it a question, whether each individual man can\nattain a faith consistent in its parts, agreeable to fact, and\nadequate to his nature. This also is possible. But when he has\nattained it, on what terms is it to co-exist with other faiths\npresenting parallel pretensions? Is he in his heart to identify his\nown with the absolute truth, sufficient for _all_ as for himself? Is\nhe to expect them to come round to it, and altogether throw away their\nown? Or is he to confess to himself his own limitations, to suspect\nthat he may have his blind sides, and reverently to seek something he\nhas missed in that which others persist in seeing? In which direction\nis he to seek unity? By antipathy to all beliefs save one?--or by\ninviting all of them to live their life and show their place in human\nnature? It is the genius of Romanism to seek unity by _suppression_;\nof Protestantism, by free _development_;--of the former, to protect\nthe consistency it has; of the latter, to press forward to one that it\nhas not. Are we taunted with our \"Protestant variations\"? Why, the\nmore they are, the richer is our field of experience, the finer our\npoints of comparison; provided, however, that we hold fast to the\nnoble trust in a Gospel of identity at bottom, and seek it rather in\nthe religious heart of all the churches, than in the theologic wisdom\nof our own. No man can proclaim the principle of \"_One Gospel in many\ndialects_,\" unless he is prepared to admit that his own faith is _one\nof the dialects, and nothing more_; to presume a meaning in the\nothers, however hid from him; and while they remain to him a mere\ninarticulate jargon, to ascribe it sooner to his own incapacity than\nto their insignificance. When God's truth, refracted on its entrance\ninto our nature, shall emerge into the white light again, not one of\nthese tinted beams can be spared. Let us for a moment arrest and\nexamine them. Let us look at the chief varieties which Christianity\nassumes as it penetrates the soul; at once recognizing our own place,\nand appreciating that of others.\n\nThere are three great types of natural mind on which the Spirit of\nChrist may fall; and each, touched and awakened by him, \"utters the\nwonderful works of God\" in a language of its own.\n\n(1.) There is the _Ethical_ mind, calm, level, and clear; chiefly\nintent on the good-ordering of this life; judging all things by their\ntendency to this end; and impatient of every oscillation of our nature\nthat swings beyond it. There is nothing low or unworthy in the\nattachment which keeps this spirit close to the present world, and\nwatchful for its affairs. It is not a selfish feeling, but often one\nintensely social and humane; not any mean fascination with mere\nmaterial interests, but a devotion to justice and right, and an\nassertion of the sacred authority of human duties and affections. A\nman thus tempered deals chiefly with this visible life and his\ncomrades in it, because, as nearest to him, they are the better known.\nHe plants his standard on the present, as on a vantage-ground, where\nhe can survey his field, and man\u0153uvre all his force, and compute the\nbattle he is to fight. Whatever his bearing towards fervors beyond his\nrange, he has no insensibility to the claims that fall within his\nacknowledged province, and that appeal to him in the native speech of\nhis humanity. He so reverences veracity, honor, and good faith, as to\n_expect them_ like the daylight, and hear of their violation with a\nflush of scorn. His word is a rock, and he expects that yours will not\nbe a quicksand. If you are lax, you cannot hope for his trust; but if\nyou are in trouble, you easily move his pity. And the sight of a real\noppression, though the sufferer be no ornamental hero, but black,\nunsightly, and disreputable, suffices perhaps to set him to work for\nlife, that he may expunge the disgrace from the records of mankind.\nSuch men as he constitute for our world its moral centre of gravity;\nand whoever would compute the path of improvement that has brought it\nthus far on its way, or trace its sweep into a brighter future, must\ntake account of their steady mass.\n\nThe effect of this style of thought and taste on the _religion_ of its\npossessor is not difficult to trace. It _may_, no doubt, stop short of\navowed and conscious religion altogether; its basis being simply\nmoral, and its scene temporal, its conditions may be imagined as\ncomplete, without any acknowledgment of higher relations. But,\npractically, this is an exceptional case. A deep and reverential sense\nof Moral Authority passes irresistibly into Faith in a Moral Governor;\nand Conscience, as it rises, culminates in Worship. And to such\nnatural religion, the hearty reception of the revealed Gospel is so\ncongenial a sequel, that Christianity has enlisted its chief\nbody-guard--its band of Immortals--from the writers of this school. In\nthe _form_ which they give to the faith, they are true to themselves,\nstill keeping close to the human, and, except to sanction and glorify\nthis, not apt to dwell upon the Divine. The second table of\ncommandment has more reality to them than the first; and the whole of\nreligion presents itself to their mind under the idea of _Law_. God in\nChrist teaches us his Will; publishes the punishment and the reward;\nand requires our obedience; aiding us in it by the perfect example of\nChrist, and reassuring us under failure by the offer of pardon on\nrepentance. Now this is a true Gospel; not a proposition of it can be\ngainsaid; and whoever from his heart can repeat this creed;--God is\nholy; morality, divine; penitence, availing; goodness, immortal;\nguilt, secure of retribution; and Christ, our pattern for both\nlives,--is not far from the kingdom of Heaven, and has a faith as much\nbeyond the practice, as it is short of the professions, of the great\nmass of Christians. If he has an equable, rational, and balanced\nnature; if he can depend on himself, and reduce his will to the\ndiscipline of rules; if he have affections temperate enough to follow\nreason instead of lead it, and to love God by sense of fitness and\nword of command; if moral prudence is so strong in him that he can\nbear the idea of \"doing good for the sake of everlasting happiness\";\nif no wing ever beats in his soul that takes him off his feet;--his\nwants are provided; he has guidance for the problems that will meet\nhim on his way,--indications of duty,--grounds of trust,--and a path\ntraced through every Gethsemane and Calvary of this world, to the\nsaintly peace of another.\n\nBut while this is a _true Gospel_, is it the _whole_ Gospel? Not so;\nunless the voice of the Saviour is to reach only a part of our\nhumanity, and in response draw but a \"little flock.\" For not many of\nour race are made of this even and unfermenting clay. Who can deny\nthat there abound,--and among the greatest names of Christian\nhistory,--\n\n(2.) _Passionate_ natures, that cannot thus work out _their own\nsalvation_, but ever pray to be taken whither of themselves they cannot\ngo? It is not that they are necessarily weak of will, deficient in\nself-control, and unequal to the human moralities. Rather is it, that\nthey get through all these, and yet can find no peace. Duty, as men\nmeasure it, may be satisfied; but still the face of God does not lift up\nits light. For want of that answering look, it is all as the tillage of\nthe black desert; digging by night without a heaven above, and sowing in\nsands which no dew shall fertilize. Intense and effectuating resolve was\ncertainly not wanting in Luther; what his young conscience imposed, his\nwill achieved,--wasting asceticism, persevering devotion, humble\ncharities; yet the shadow of death brooded around his irreproachable\nobedience. Is it not that the same sorrow which, in more level minds, is\nbrought by a fall of the will, arises in these men from the ascent of\ntheir aspirations? Haunted by the image of God's _Holiness_, drawn to\nit, yet fluttering helplessly at immeasurable depths below it, they\nstrain after an obedience they cannot reach, and never lose the sense of\ninfinite failure. Measured by their aims, their power is nothing. Did\nthe law of Christ require nothing but works which the hand could do, its\nconditions would be finite, and might be satisfied. But its claims sweep\nthrough the affections of the soul; and who can _make himself love_\nwhere he is cold? who set himself behind his own thoughts, and keep\nguilty intruders outside the door of his nature? Impossible! the inner\nlife, which is the special seat of our divine concerns, evades our\nlaboring prudence, and tortures conscience without obeying it. How then\ndo these sufferers find their emancipation? They have a Gospel,\naccording to which Christ is not given as the Teacher of Law, but set up\nas the personal object of pure Trust and Love. God sent his Son in the\nlikeness of sinful flesh, to mitigate the Divine into gentleness, to\nelevate the Human into holiness, and show how there is one moral\nperfection for both; surrendered him to humiliation and self-sacrifice;\nplaced him in heaven; and offered to accept pure _faith and love towards\nhim_ as the reconciling term for the human soul,--as the substitute for\nan unattainable ideal of obedience. Here then is the salvation of these\npassionate natures. This simple trust, this intense affection, is\nprecisely what they have to give. They cannot direct themselves; but\nonly fix their love, and you may lead them as a child. Self-discipline\nis impossible; self-escape triumphant. Try from within to hold the\nstruggling winds of their nature with iron bands of law, and you do but\nstir the sleeping storms. Set in the heavens without an orb of divine\nattraction,--a new star in the East,--and you carry their whole\natmosphere away. Engage their faith; and for the first time they will\nprevail over their work. Let there be an appeal of Grace to their\nenthusiasm,--a whispered word, \"_Lovest thou me?_\"--and the very burden\nthat was too heavy to be borne loses all its weight; and the drudging\nmill of habit, that seemed so servile once, they pace with songs and\njoy. There are men who so need to be thus carried out of themselves,\nthat without it their nature runs to waste, or burns away with\nself-consuming fires. They are like one who, in a dream, should set\nhimself to climb a far-off mountain-top; if he tries to run, he cannot\neven creep, and only wakes himself to find that he lies still on the bed\nof nature. But if the thought of his mind should be, that an\novermastering power--chariot of fire and horses of fire--lifts him away,\nhe floats through the clear space, till, without effort, his feet stand\nupon the visionary hills.\n\nHere then, again,--in this doctrine of Faith,--we have a true Gospel,\nspeaking to many hearts impenetrable by the doctrine of Works. But\nhave we even yet the _whole_ Gospel? Has the Good Shepherd, in these\ntwo words, made his voice known to all that are his? Or are there\nother sheep still to be gathered that are not of these folds? I\nbelieve _there are_. For thus far we have looked only at the _moral_\nside of Christian doctrine,--at its different answers to the problem\nof Sin,--at the conditions of ultimate acceptance with God,\nnotwithstanding deep unworthiness. Whether you say, Patiently obey,\nand you shall grow into perfection of faith and love; or, Fling\nyourself on faith and love, and you will find grace for patient\nobedience;--in either case you are prescribing terms of salvation; you\nhave the _future life_ specially in mind, and are anxious to make\nready the soul _there_ to meet her God. But there are persons who\ncannot fix any particular solicitude upon that crisis, as if all\nbefore were probation, and all after were judgment,--as if here were\nonly faith in an absent, and there sight of a present God;--who cannot\ndramatically divide existence into a two-act piece, first Time, then\nEternity, and wait for the Infinite Presence, till the curtain rises\nbetween them; but are haunted by the feeling that, as Time is in\nEternity, so is Man already shut up in God. This is the indigenous\nsentiment of another natural type of mind, which may be called,--\n\n(3.) The _Spiritual_. God is a Spirit; man has a spirit; both, _Now_;\nboth, _Here_; and shall they never meet? shall they remain without\nexchange of looks? shall nothing break the seal of eternal silence? is\nthere really love between them, and thought, and purpose, and yet all\nrecognition dumb? Why tell us of God's Omniscience, if it only sleeps\naround us like dead space, or at most lies watching, like a sentinel\nof the universe, not free to stir? Who could ever pray to this\nmotionless Immensity? who weep his griefs to rest on a Pity so secret\nand reserved? Surely if He is a Living Mind, he not merely remains\nover from a Divine Past to appear again in a Divine Future, but moves\nthrough the immediate hours, and awakens a thousand sanctities to-day.\nUrged by such questionings as these, men of meditative piety have\nthirsted for conscious communion with the All-holy;--communion _both\nways_: appeal and response; a crossing line of light from eye to eye;\na quiet walk with God, where all the dust of life turns, at his\napproach, into the green meadow, and its flat pools into the gliding\nwaters. They have retired _within_ to meet him; have believed that all\nis not ours that it is ours to feel; that there is Grace of his\nmingling with the inner fibres of our nature, and flinging in, across\nthe constant warp of our personality, flying tints of deeper beauty,\nand hints of a pattern more divine. And all have agreed, that, in\norder to reach this Holy Spirit, and through its vivifying touch be\nborn again, the one thing needful is a stripping off of self, an\nabandonment of personal desire and will, a return to simplicity, and a\ndocile listening to the whispers spontaneous from God. They find all\nsin to be a rising up of self; all return to holiness and peace a\nsinking down from self, a free surrender of the soul,--that asks\nnothing, possesses nothing, that relaxes every rigid strain, and is\npliant to go whither the highest Will may lead. Nature, of her own\nfoolishness, ever goes astray in her quest of divine things; wandering\naway in flights of laboring Reason to find her God; panting with\nover-plied resolve to do her work; scheming rules, and artifices, and\nbonds of union for forming her individuals into a Church. Reverse all\nthis, and fall back on the centre of the Spirit, instead of pressing\nout in all radii of your own. Let Intellect droop her ambitious wing,\nand come home; there, in the inmost room of conscience, God seeks you\nall the while. Lash your wearied strength no more; sit low and weak\nupon the ground, with loving readiness hitherward or thitherward, and\nyou shall be taken through your work with a sevenfold strength that\nhas no effort in it. Leave yourself awhile in utter solitude, shut out\nall thoughts of other men, yield up whatever intervenes, though it be\nthe thinnest film, between your soul and God; and in this absolute\nloneliness, the germ of a holy society will of itself appear, a temper\nof sympathy and mercy, trustful and gentle, suffuses itself through\nthe whole mind: though you have seen no one, you have met all; and are\ngirt for any errand of service that love may find. So then, if there\nwere twenty or a thousand in this case, their wills would flow\ntogether of their own accord, and find themselves in brotherhood\nwithout a plan at all.\n\nSo speaks this doctrine of the Spirit. It matters not now under which of\nits many theologic forms we conceive it; simplest perhaps, that the\nIndwelling God, who in Christ was the Word, is in us the Comforter. But\nsurely, this also is not altogether a false Gospel. It rescues the\nconception of direct communion between the human spirit and the\nDivine,--a conception essential to the Christian life,--which an Ethical\nGospel does not adequately secure: for communion must be between like\nand like, while obedience may be from slave to lord, nay, in some sense,\nfrom machine to maker. Nor is it a slight thing to take the scales from\nour eyes that hide from us the sanctities of our _immediate_ life; to\nabolish the postponement of eternity; and, wayfarers as we are, make us\nfeel, as we rise from our stony pillow and pass on, that here is the\nabode of God, and here does the angel-ladder touch the ground! Yet this\ntoo is not the _whole_ Gospel. It absorbs too much in God. It scarcely\nsaves human personality and responsibility. It does no justice to\nnature, which it regards as the negative of God. It melts away Law in\nLove, and hides the rocky structure of this moral world in a sunny haze\nthat confuses earth and air.\n\nWhat, then, shall we say of these three types of Christian faith? Do\nyou doubt their reality? It is demonstrated within the century which\nwe close this day. For while our forefathers were dedicating this\nhouse of prayer to the first, the Gospel of Christian Duty, Wesley\nhad already become the prophet of the last,--the new birth of the\nSpirit; and erelong Evangelicism started up, and proclaimed the\nsecond,--the Salvation by Faith. Do you doubt their durability and\npermanence? It is proved by eighteen centuries' experience, for the\nNew Testament is not older. _There_, within the group of sacred books\nthemselves, do they all lie; the Jewish Gospels represent the first;\nthe Gentile Apostle's letters, the second; the writings of the beloved\ndisciple, the third. Matthew, as every reader must remark, is for the\nLaw; Paul, for Faith; and John, for the Spirit. And, in every age, the\ngreat mass of Christian tendencies break themselves into these three\nforms:--Ebionite, Pauline, and contemplative Gnostic; Pelagian,\nAugustinian, and Mystic; Jesuit, Jansenist, and Quietist; Arminian,\nLutheran, and Quaker; all proclaim the perseverance of the same\nessential types, wherever the spirit of Christ alights upon the\nvarious heart of man.\n\nIs Christ then divided? Is he not equal to the _whole_ of our\nhumanity? Rather let us say, that we are small and weak for the\nmeasure of his heavenly wisdom. Doubtless, if we take what we can\nhold, and put it to faithful application, we have grace enough for\nevery personal exigency. But there is, surely, an evil inseparable\nfrom all _partial_ developments of religion, which only satisfy the\nimmediate cravings of the mind, and leave parts of our nature--asleep\nperhaps at the moment--liable to wake and thirst again. Such _separate\ngrowths_ run out their resources and exhaust themselves in a few\ngenerations. At first, they answer to some felt want; they collect a\ncongenial multitude, and open to them a spiritual refuge that ends\ntheir wanderings. But the sentiment, once brought into a contented\nstate, ceases to be importunate and prominent; and by its abatement\ngives opportunity for other feelings to vindicate their existence.\nWhen the wound is bound up and has lost its smart, the natural hunger\nbegins to tell. The children grow up other than the fathers, perhaps\nquite as limited, only in different ways,--with affections pressing\ninto just the vacant places of an earlier age. Meanwhile, the\nimperfection of the original basis has provoked reactions equally of\nnarrow scope,--equally incapable of permanently filling the capacities\nof the Christian mind. Hence the danger, if the separate veins of\nthought be still worked on as they thin away, that the sects should\ndegenerate into poor theological egotisms, and wear themselves\ninsensibly out. It cannot be denied that all the three religious\nmovements of the last century--represented by Taylor, by Wesley, by\nCowper--exhibit the symptoms of spent strength, and are little likely\nto play again the part they have played before.\n\nYet every one of their Gospels is _true at heart_; and the tree that\nholds that pith is a tree of life, which the Eternal husbandman hath\nplanted; and if he prune it, it is only that it may bear more fruit.\nThe weakness of these faiths is in their isolation; and if their sap\ncould but mingle, if no element were lost which they can draw from the\nroot of the vine, a young frondescent life would show itself again.\nThose who think that the future can only repeat the past, will deem\nthis impossible; though least of all should it appear so to _us_ who\nprofess ourselves \"_Christians and only Christians_,\" pledged to\nnothing but to lie open to all God's truth. For myself I indulge a\njoyful hope that the next century of Christendom will be nobler than\nthe last; that the great Faiths which have struggled separately into\nthe light of the one, will flow together on the broader and less\nbroken surface of the other. If, however, this is to be, it will arise\nfrom no mere _intellectual_ scrutiny, whose function will ever be to\n_distinguish_, and not to _unite_, and, in proportion as it dominates\nalone, to trace ever-new lines of critical divergency. When the\nproblem of Christendom is, to deliver the individual mind from the\noperation of an overwhelming social power, then it is seasonable to\ninsist on the principle of free inquiry; because then you have a dead\nmass to disintegrate, ere any young and living force can urge its way.\nBut when you have won this victory, and when individualism ceases to\nbe devout and tends to party self-will, the hour comes to proclaim\nthe converse lesson, and break up the vain reliance on mere liberty\nof thought. Depend upon it, Unity lies in profounder strata of our\nnature than any tillage of the mere intellect can reach. Sink deeply\ninto the inmost life of _any_ Christian faith, and you will touch the\nground of _all_. Did we do nothing with our religion except live by\nit; did we forget the presence of doubt and contradiction; did it\ncease to be a creed about God and become simply an existence in God;\ndid we exchange self-assertion before men for self-surrender to\nhim;--we should find ourselves side by side with unexpected friends,\nshould be astonished at our petulant divisions, and replace the poor\ncharity of mutual forbearance by the free consciousness of inward\nsympathy. For _us_ especially, who feel the temptations of an\nexceptional position, is it the prime duty to live and move and have\nour being in the divine sanctities that hold us, in that which we have\n_not_ been obliged to throw away; else might our Gospel be no\nfruit-bearing branch, drinking from the root of the vine, but a dead\nresiduum, withered and hopeless. Remember that, if Sin be not\n_original_, all the more must it be _actual_, and the deeper should\nits shadow lie upon the Conscience, and touch us with the mood of\nfaithfulness and prayer. If, in reconciling man with God, there is no\n_vicarious_ sacrifice possible, so much the more remains over for\n_self-sacrifice_, as the only path of communion and peace. If you will\nhave it that Christ is only _human_, so much the more Divine is your\nhumanity to be; you cannot assume _that_ as the type of your nature,\nwithout at least owning that its essence lies, and its glory is found,\nnot in the natural man, but in the spiritual man; and by this very\nconfession, you renounce the low aims of the worldly mind, and take on\nyourself the vows of the saintly. Let believers only be true to the\ngrace they have, and more will be given; and enter where they may the\nmany-gated sanctuary of the Christian life, they will tend ever\ninwards to the same centre, and meet at last in the holiest of all.\nKeeping a reverent eye fixed on the person and spirit of Christ, they\ncannot but find their partial apprehensions corrected and enlarged;\nfor his divine image is complete in its revelation, and rebukes every\nnarrower Gospel. Moral perfectness, divine communion, free\nself-sacrifice,--all blend in him,--indistinguishable elements of one\nexpression. In that august and holy presence, our divisions sink\nabashed, and hear, as of old, the word of recall, \"Ye know not what\nspirit ye are of.\" Or if, through our infirmities, that gracious form,\nappearing in the midst as we discourse among ourselves and are\nperplexed and sad, do not suffice to open our eyes and make us less\nslow of heart to one another and to him, at least in that higher\nworld, whither our forerunners are gone, his living look will perfect\nthe communion of saints. There at length the guests of his bounty will\nfind that, though at separate tables, they have all been fed by the\nsame bread of life, and touched their lips with the same wine of\nremembrance: there, the voices of the wise, often discordant here,--of\nTaylor and Wesley, of Enfield and Cowper, of Heber and Channing,--will\nblend in harmony;--and the notes of the last age will not be the least\nin that mighty chorus which crowds the steps of eighteen centuries,\nand, converging to their immortal Head, sings the solemn strain,\n\"Great and marvellous are thy works, Lord God Almighty! Just and true\nare all thy ways, thou King of Saints!\"\n\n\n\n\nST. PAUL AND HIS MODERN STUDENTS.\n\n    _The Life and Epistles of St. Paul._ By the Rev. W. J. CONYBEARE,\n    M.A., late Fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge; and the Rev. J.\n    S. HOWSON, M.A., Principal of the Collegiate Institution,\n    Liverpool. 2 vols. 4to. Longmans. 1852.\n\n    _The Epistles of St. Paul to the Corinthians: with Critical Notes\n    and Dissertations._ By ARTHUR PENRHYN STANLEY, M.A., Canon of\n    Canterbury, late Fellow and Tutor of University College, Oxford,\n    &c. 2 vols. 8vo. Murray. 1855.\n\n    _The Epistles of St. Paul to the Thessalonians, Galatians, Romans:\n    with Critical Notes and Dissertations._ By BENJAMIN JOWETT, M.A.,\n    Fellow and Tutor of Balliol College, Oxford. 2 vols. 8vo. Murray.\n    1855.\n\n\nThese treatises, bearing on their title-pages the names of our two\necclesiastical Universities, give happy signs of a new era in English\ntheology. They show how effectually we have escaped from the morbid\nreligious phenomena represented by Simeon at Cambridge, and the\ncounter-irritants applied by John Henry Newman at Oxford; and come as\nthe returning breath of nature to those who have witnessed the fevers\nof \"Evangelical\" conversion or the consumptive asceticism of\n\"Anglican\" piety. On looking back, from the position now attained, it\nseems wonderful that we could ever, with St. Paul's writings in our\nhands, have been betrayed into either of these opposite extravagances:\nfor anything more absolutely foreign to his breadth and universality\nthan the Genevan dogma, or more at variance with his free spirituality\nthan the sacramental system, it is impossible to conceive. But it is\nthe peculiar fate of sacred writings, that the last thing elicited\nfrom them is their own real meaning. The very greatness of their\nauthority puts the reader's faculties into a false attitude; creates\nan eagerness,--an inflexible intensity,--that defeats its own end;\nand, in particular, gives undue ascendency to the uppermost want and\nfeeling that may be craving satisfaction. Hence the tendency of\nScriptural interpretation to proceed by action and reaction; an easy\nethical Arminianism being succeeded by a severe Calvinism, and the\nreliance on individual grace giving way before the advance of\nsacerdotal and Church ideas. When the opposite errors have spent\nthemselves, the requisite repose of mind will be recovered for reading\njust the thought that lies upon the page: here and there an eye will\nbe found, neither strained with pre-occupying visions, not scared by\nsceptic shadows, but clear for the apprehension of reality, as God has\nshaped it for our perception. At length we have reached this crisis of\npromise; and critics are found who, instead of interrogating St. Paul\non all sorts of modern questions, listen to him on his own; and draw\nfrom him, not a fancied verdict on the sixteenth century, but a\nfaithful picture of the first.\n\nAnd for this historical purpose, the writings of the great Gentile\nApostle are of paramount value, and justly occupy the inquirer's first\nresearches. The most considerable of them are of unimpeachable\nauthenticity. They are the very earliest Christian writings we\npossess. They are the productions of a man more clearly known to us\nthan any of the first missionaries of the Gospel. They are _letters_:\nabounding in disclosures of personal feelings, of biographical\nincident, of changing moods of thought, of outward and inward\nconflict. They are addressed to young communities, scattered over a\nvast area, and composed of differing elements; and exhibit the whole\nfermentation of their new life, the scruples, the heart-burnings, the\nnoble inspirations, the grievous factions, of the Apostolic age. The\nGospels and the Book of Acts _treat_ no doubt of a prior period, but\n_proceed_ from a posterior, of whose state of mind, whose\nretrospective theories concerning the ministry of Christ, it is of\nprimary importance to the criticism of the Evangelists that we should\nbe informed; and on these points the Pauline Epistles are the\nindispensable groundwork of all our knowledge or conjecture. In them\nwe catch the Christian doctrine and tradition at an earlier stage than\nany other canonical book represents throughout. Although the\nnarratives of the New Testament doubtless abound in material drawn\nfaithfully from a more primitive time, they are certainly not free\nfrom the touch and tincture of the post-Pauline age. How powerful an\ninstrument the Apostle's letters may become for either confirming or\nchecking the historical records, may be readily conceived by every\nreader of Paley's \"Hor\u00e6 Paulin\u00e6.\" In fine, if it be a just principle,\nin historical criticism, to proceed from the more known to the less\nknown,--to begin from a date that yields contemporary documents, and\nwork thence into the subjacent and superjacent strata of events,--the\nelucidation of Christian antiquity must take its commencement from the\nEpistles of St. Paul.\n\nExcept in its general similarity of subject, the first of the three\nworks mentioned at the head of this article admits of no comparison\nwith the other two. It is rather an illustrated guide-book to the\nApostle's world of place and time, than a personal introduction to\nhimself. The authors are highly accomplished and scholarly men, and\ncould not fail, in dealing with an historical theme, to bring together\nand group with conscientious skill a vast store of arch\u00e6ological and\ntopographical detail; to weigh chronological difficulties with patient\ncare; to translate with philological precision, and due aim at\naccuracy of text. They have accordingly produced a truly interesting\nand instructive book: _so_ instructive, indeed, that by far the\ngreater part of its information would, probably, have been quite new\nto St. Paul himself. His life seems to us to be injudiciously overlaid\nwith what is wholly foreign to it, and for the sake of picturesque\neffect to be set upon a stage quite invisible to him. He was not\n\"Principal of a Collegiate Institution,\" accustomed to examine boys in\nAttic or Latian geography; was not familiar with Thucydides or Grote;\nwas indifferent to the Amphictyonic Council; and, in the vicinity of\nSalamis and Marathon, probably read the past no more than a Brahmin\nwould in travelling over Edgehill or Marston Moor. The world of each\nman must be measured from his own spiritual centre, and will take in\nmuch less in one direction, much more in another, than is spread\nbeneath his eye. He cannot be reached by geographical approaches. You\nmay determine the elements of his orbit, and yet miss him after all.\nIt is an illusory process to paint the ancient world as it would look\nto an Hellenic gentleman then, or a university scholar now; and then\nthink how St. Paul would feel in passing through it to convert it. The\nindirect influence of this kind of conception seems to us apparent\nboth in Mr. Conybeare's translation and Mr. Howson's narrative and\ndescriptions. The outward scene and conditions of the Apostle's career\nare elaborately displayed; but more with the modern academic than with\nthe old Hebrew tone of coloring; and the English version, scrupulous\nand delicate as it is, has, to our taste, a general flavor quite\ndifferent from the original Greek. Unconsciously entangled in the\nclassifications and symbols of the Protestant theology, the authors\nare detained outside the real genius and feeling of the Apostle.\n\nOf a far higher order are the other two works,--produced, we infer\nfrom their numerous correspondences of both form and substance, not\nwithout concert between the authors. Indeed, the same explanation of\nthe merits of Lachmann's text (printed without translation by Mr.\nStanley, and with the adapted authorized version by Mr. Jowett) is\nmade to serve for both. So clearly and compendiously is this\nexplanation drawn, that, in the next edition of Lachmann, Mr. Jowett's\nintroduction might usefully be annexed to the great critic's rather\ntangled and awkward preface. Of the superior fidelity of this\nrecension, we think no habitual reader of the Greek Scriptures can\nreasonably doubt; and the recognition of its authority fulfils a prior\ncondition of all scientific theology. The text being chosen on grounds\npurely critical, the notes are written in a spirit purely exegetical;\nthey aim, simply and with rare self-abnegation, to bring out, by every\nhappy change of light and turn of reflective sympathy, the great\nApostle's real thought and feeling. How very far this faithful\nhistoric purpose in itself raises the interpreter above the crowd of\nerudite and commenting divines, can scarcely be understood till it has\nformed a new generation, and fixed itself as a distinct intellectual\ntype. It is not, however, an affair of mere will and disposition; but,\nlike most of the higher exercises of veracity, comes into operation\nonly as the last result of mental tact and affluence. With the most\nhonest intentions towards St. Paul, a critic without psychological\ninsight and dialectic pliancy, without power of melting down his\nmodern abstractions and redistributing them in the moulds of the old\nrealistic thought,--a critic without entrance into the passionate\ndepths of human nature,--a critic pre-occupied by Catholic or\nProtestant assumptions, and untrained to imagine the questions and\ninterests of the first age,--_cannot_ surrender himself to the natural\nimpression of the Apostle's language. The disciple and the master are,\nin such case, at cross-purposes with one another; the questions put\nare not the questions answered; the interlocutors do not really meet,\nbut wind in a maze about each other's _loci_, not to end till the\nunconscious interpreter has set his fantasies within the shadow of\ninspiration. No such blind chase is possible to our authors. They have\nachieved the conditions of fidelity; and bring to a task, in which the\ntruthful and sagacious spirit of Locke had already fixed the standard\nhigh, the ampler resources of modern learning, and more practised\nhabit of historic combination. In the distribution of their work, the\ndifference of natural genius between the two authors has perhaps been\nconsulted, and is, at all events, distinctly expressed. Mr. Stanley's\naptitude for reproducing the image of the past, his apprehensive\nsympathy with the concrete and individual elements of the world, fitly\nengage themselves with the composite forms of Corinthian society, and\nthe most personal, various, and objective of the Apostle's letters.\nFor the more speculative Epistles to the Galatians and the Romans,\nthere was need of Mr. Jowett's philosophical depth and subtilty. The\nstrictness with which he restrains these seductive gifts to the proper\nbusiness of the interpreter, is not less admirable than their\noccasional happy application. Instead of being employed to force upon\nthe Apostle a logical precision foreign to his habit, they are chiefly\nengaged in detecting and wiping out false niceties of distinction\ndrawn by later theology, and throwing back each doctrinal statement\ninto its original degree of indeterminateness. It is not in the\nnotes,--which are wholly occupied in recovering St. Paul's own\nthought,--but in the interposed disquisitions, which avowedly deal\nwith the theology of to-day, that a certain breadth and balance of\nstatement, and delicate ease in man\u0153uvring the forms and antitheses\nof abstract thought, and fine appreciation of human experience, make\nus feel the double presence of metaphysical power and historical tact.\nThe author, accordingly, appears to us, not only to have seized the\ngreat Apostle's attitude of mind more happily than any preceding\nEnglish critic, but also to have separated the essence from the\naccidents of the Pauline Christianity, and disengaged its divine\nelements for transfusion into the organism of our immediate life. Mr.\nStanley appears to have more difficulty in unreservedly adhering to\nthe purely historical view, and clerically flutters, without clear\noccasion, on the outskirts of \"edification\";--the critic in his notes,\nthe preacher in his paraphrase; conceding in act more readily than in\nname, and apologizing for finding human ingredients in the Apostles\nand their doctrines, as if it were he, and not _God_, that would have\nthem there. This tendency to blur the lines which he himself draws\nbetween the temporary and the permanent in the Scriptures with which\nhe deals, is the only fault we can find with Mr. Stanley; whose\nassociate, clinging less to the past, in effect preserves more for the\npresent. To learn the external scene of the Apostle's career, we would\nrefer our readers to Messrs. Conybeare and Howson; to appreciate his\nmoral surroundings, and the problems it presented, especially on the\nethnic side, they may take Mr. Stanley as their guide; but for insight\ninto the Apostle himself, and outlook on the world as it seemed to\nhim, they must resort to Mr. Jowett.\n\nThe Pauline Epistles are interesting, apart from all assumption of\ninspired authority, because the elements are seen fermenting there of\nthe greatest known revolution both in the history of the world and in\nthe spiritual consciousness of individual man. Judaism was the narrowest\n(that is, the most _special_) of religions; Christianity, the most human\nand comprehensive. Within a few years, the latter was evolved out of the\nformer; taking all its intensity and durability, without resort to any\nof its limitations. This marvellous expansion of the national into the\nuniversal was not achieved without a process and a conflict. Divine\nthough the work was, it had to be wrought upon men, and through men,\nwhose character, interests, convictions, habits, and institutions\nfurnished the data conditioning the problem, and whose remodelled\naffections and will supplied the instruments for its solution. The laws\nof human nature, therefore, and the action of human events, necessarily\nenter into the study of this great revolution; and it cannot be detained\nout of the hands of the historian by any exclusive rights of the divine.\nWhen we endeavor to trace the successive steps of faith from Mount Zion\nto the Vatican, many parts of the progress appear to have left but\nscanty vestige. We know the beginning, in the doctrine of the Hebrew\nMessiah; we know the end, in the recognition of a Saviour of the world.\nWe know the intermediate fact,--that Judaism did not surrender its own\nwithout a struggle, or readily give away the keys of its enclosure just\nwhen it was passing from a prison of affliction into a palace of \"the\nkingdom.\" But within this general fact lies a world of mysterious\ndetail,--nay, almost the whole life of the early Church. Who began the\nopen breach between Messiah and the Law? how, and to what extent, did\nthe parties divide? what was their relative magnitude at different times\nand in different places? and by what process was the difference\nterminated, and the two extremes--Marcion on the one hand and the\nEbionites on the other--removed outside as heretics? The Christianity of\nthe third century is so little like the doctrine of Matthew's Gospel as\nto perplex our sense of identity. No one can bring the two into direct\ncomparison, without feeling how much must have happened to shape the\nearlier into the form of the later. Could we trace the flow and estimate\nthe sources of this change, the most wonderful of the world's\nexperiences would be resolved. The continuity, however, of visible\ncausation is often broken; there are everywhere many missing links in\nthe chain, and a chasm extending through a large part of the second\ncentury. But a generation earlier we meet with materials of the richest\nvalue in the Epistles of St. Paul; and by their aid the general\ndirection may be found by which thought and events must have advanced.\nOtherwise, the change would seem as violent and inconceivable as a\nconvulsion that should mingle the Jordan and the Tiber.\n\nNo doubt, the germ of the Gospel's universality is to be found in the\npersonal characteristics of its Author,--in the whole spirit of his\nlife, and the direct tendency of his teachings. He who found in the\nlove of God and love of man the very springs of eternal life; who\nmeasured good and evil, not by the act, but by the affection whence\nthey come; who placed his ideal for man in likeness to the perfection\nof God,--had already proclaimed a religion transcending all local\nlimits. Nay, if he opposed the \"true worship\" to the services at\nGerizim and Jerusalem, and could wish the Temple away, that obstructed\nhis direct dealing with the human soul and suppressed the inner shrine\n\"not made with hands,\" he must even have placed himself in an attitude\nof open alienation towards the ritual of his people. At the same time,\nhis words seem to have left not unfrequently an opposite impression.\nHe comes, \"not to destroy the Law and the prophets, but to fulfil\"\nthem; \"not a jot or a tittle is to fail.\" His most spiritual truths\nand sentiments, instead of being announced as novelties grounding\nthemselves on his personal authority, are drawn out of the old Hebrew\nScriptures; and even the life beyond death he finds lurking in\npatriarchal idioms and phrases heard at the burning bush. His\nintensest polemic against the sacerdotal party goes on within the\nlimits of the system which they represent and yet corrupt; and his\nbitterest reproach against them is that there is no reverence for it\nin their hearts, since they hugely violate and trivially obey it. Far\nfrom ever launching out against law _as_ law, or setting up faith as a\nrival principle excluding it, he extends _precept_ to the last heights\nof religion, _enjoins_ the divinest affections, as if _there also_\nobedience was possible, and duty and volition had their place. It was\nnot in a nature holy and harmonious as his,--type of heavenly peace\nrather than of earthly conflict,--that the schism would be exhibited\nbetween Will and Love; where both are at their height, there is no\nrent between them. Nor was there need, in that meek, reverential soul,\nto break with the past, in order to find a sanctity for the present,\nand leave an inspiration for the future. Some things, once given for\nthe hardness of men's hearts, might be dropped, and fall behind; but\nGod had ever lived, and left the trace of his perfectness upon the\nelder times as on the newest manifestations of the hour. There was\nenough in the Law, if only its fruitful seeds were warmed into life,\nto furnish forth the Gospel. And so Christ presents himself as the\ndisciple of Moses, and in the Sermon on the Mount does but open out\nthe tables of Sinai. It was not, therefore, without honest ground that\nhis immediate disciples could defend him from the charge of being\nunfaithful to the religion of his native land. And yet the instinct of\nthe priests and rabbis told them truly that he and they could not\nco-exist, that his doctrine reduced their work to naught, and that,\nwhencesoever he might draw it, there was no doubt whither he must\ncarry it. The \"witnesses\" were not altogether \"false\" which they\nbrought to show his inner hostility to the altar ceremonial; and\nperhaps his enemies, with apprehension sharpened by fear, more\ncorrectly interpreted his tendency in this direction than his\nfollowers, entangled in the cloud of a Judaic love. It was quite\nnatural that the real antithesis between the Law and the Gospel should\nthus be first felt by his antagonists, whilst as yet it slept\nundeveloped in the minds of his followers and in the habitual\nexpression of his own thought; and that its earliest proclamation\nshould be _their_ act, _their_ defiance, the cross on Calvary!\n\nThis terrible challenge, fiercely protesting that the Law would hold\nno parley with the Gospel, the Apostles, however, refused to accept.\nThey still denied their Lord's apostasy or their own; they had always\nbeen, and with his encouragement, the best of Jews: nor did they\ncontemplate, so far, any change. The crucifixion was a Jewish mistake,\nmeant for the nation's enemy, but alighting on its representative; a\nmistake, however, which God had counteracted by a glorious rescue, in\nthe resurrection of the crucified. The mischief being thus undone, the\nday of Hebrew opportunity was resumed; the ministry of Jesus was not\nclosed; he yet lived and preached to them as before;--no longer,\nindeed, in person till their better mind should re-assert itself, but\nby \"faithful witnesses\";--no longer too in tentative disguise, but now\nidentified as Messiah by his exaltation above this world. Whatever\nconflicts of mind the disciples suffered in the mysterious period\nfollowing the crucifixion, the operation of the resurrection and the\nSpirit was at first simply to reinstate them in their prior\nfaith,--that the kingdom would soon be restored to Israel, and be\nbrought in by no other than their Master, already waiting for the\ncrisis in a higher world till God's hour should come. There is no\nevidence to show that, on the transference of their Lord's life from\nearth to heaven, they were carried into any greater comprehensiveness\nor spirituality of faith: their convictions were more intense, but\nheld on in the same direction, being all included in one great\ntheme,--the speedy coming of Messiah's kingdom and the end of the\nworld. Nay, of so little consequence, in comparison with this\n_general_ picture of expectation, was even the appearance in it of the\nperson of Jesus as its central figure, that Apollos, more than twenty\nyears afterwards, was making and baptizing converts, without having\never heard of any later prophet than John the Baptist; and these\npeople are already recognized as \"disciples,\" and then informed, as\nneedful complement to their faith, that, besides the crisis being\nnear, the person is appointed.[58] Here had evidently been, for some\nquarter of a century, two independent streams of Messianic faith, one\nfrom a rather earlier source than the other, but pursuing their own\nseparate way, till thus partially confluent at Ephesus. And what is\nthe relation between them? One of them baptizes into an impersonal and\nanonymous hope, the other into the same hope with the name attached.\nAnd when these two states of mind are set side by side, they are\nregarded as the same in their essence, and differing only in\ncompleteness. Nor is there anything in their mutual feeling to hinder\ntheir instant coalescence. This fact defines in the clearest way the\nposition of the early Church; the ordinary Jew believed that Messiah\nwould _some time_ come, and bring in \"the last days\"; Apollos, that he\nwould come _erelong_; the Christians, that already _the person_ was\nindicated, and would prove to be Jesus of Nazareth. All three\nco-existed within the Hebrew pale, and the two last fall under the\ncommon category of \"disciples.\"\n\nIt was impossible, however, that the contemplation of a Messiah risen\nand reserved in heaven should affect all the believers in a precisely\nsimilar manner. His personal attendants it would take up just where\nthe crucifixion had let them down; would give new force to their\nprevious impressions, new sacredness to their recollections, new\nsignificance to his words and example, new reluctance to venture where\nhe had not led. The whole effect would be conservative, and tend to\nfix them, with an inspired rigor, within the limits of the Master's\nlot and life. Quite otherwise was it with the new disciples, who had\nno such restraining memories of the human Teacher. _They_ began with\nChrist above, and were tied down by no concrete biographical images,\nno scruples of tender retrospect. They were free to ask themselves,\n\"What meant this surprising way of revealing Messiah 'in heavenly\nplaces,' and letting his disguise first fall off in his escape from\nlocal relations? The scene from which he looked down,--was it the mere\nupper chamber of Jud\u00e6a, or did it overarch the human world? Who could\nclaim him, now that he was there? Was it for him to examine pedigrees\nto test 'the children of the kingdom'; or would he, as Son of David,\neven come emblazoned with his own?\" The mere conception of an ascended\nand immortal being, assessor to the Lord of _all_, seemed to dwarf and\nshame all provincial restrictions, and sanction the distaste for\nbinding forms and ceremonial exclusiveness. The withdrawal of Christ\nto a holier sphere accorded well with all that was most spiritual in\nhis teachings and in himself; and could not fail to reflect a strong\nlight back on this aspect of his life, and give a more significant\nemphasis to the tradition of his deepest words. In the mind of many a\ndisciple this tendency would be favored by a weariness towards the\nouter worship of the temple, and a secret aspiration after purer and\nmore intimate communion with God. Especially was the _foreign_ Jew\nobliged to confess such a feeling to himself. The very speaking of\nGreek spoiled him for thinking as a Hebrew; for language is the\nchannel of the soul, and according as the organism is open, the sap\nwill flow. Accustomed to the simple piety of the Proseucha, where God\nwas sought without priest or sacrifice, and adequately found in\npoetry, and prophecy, and prayer, the Hellenist acquired a tone of\nsentiment on which the material pomps and puerilities of Mount Moriah\npainfully jarred. Nor could he enclose himself contentedly, like the\nPalestine Jew, within the sacred boundary that admitted the most\nworthless son of Abraham, and shut the noblest Gentile out. Living in\nheathen cities, dealing with heathen men, touched at times with the\nsorrow or the goodness of heathen neighbors, his moral feeling fell\ninto contradiction with his inherited exclusiveness, and inwardly\ndemanded some other providential classification of mankind.\nAccordingly, it was the Hellenist Stephen who first saw, in the\nheavenly Christ, a principle of universal religion and a proclamation\nof spiritual worship. When accused of defaming Moses and the Law and\nthe holy place, and setting up Jesus to supersede them, he boldly\nreflects on the stone Temple, rooted to one spot, as at variance with\nHis nature who said, \"Heaven is my throne, and earth my footstool,\"\nand points to the earlier tabernacle, movable from place to place,\nfollowing the steps of wandering humanity, as truer emblem of a faith\nthat takes every winding of history, and a God who goes where we go,\nand stays where we stay.[59] This noble doctrine doubtless expressed a\nfeeling common among the foreign Jews of liberal culture and fervid\npiety; and when consecrated by Stephen's martyrdom, it would assume a\ndistinctness unknown before, and become the admitted type of belief\namong the Christian Hellenists. That it was confined to them is\nevident from the partial effect of the persecution in which Stephen\nfell. _His_ friends,--perhaps we may say his _party_,--hunted from\nhouse to house, fled from Jerusalem; but the Jewish Apostles remained\nwhere they were,[60] apparently unmenaced and undisturbed. The\nhostility of the city drew therefore a distinction between such Hebrew\nChristians as the twelve, and the freer \"Grecians\" who proclaimed a\nSpirit above the Temple and the Law. The former, constituting an inner\nsect of Judaism, might hold their ground unmolested; the latter were\ntreated as apostates, and \"scattered abroad.\" The essential, but\nhitherto dormant, antithesis between the Gospel and the Law, had thus\nburst into expression, and embodied itself in two sections of the\nChurch that grew ever more distinct; the Hebrew party concentrated in\nJerusalem, and remaining intensely national; the Hellenistic,\nspreading itself on the outskirts of Palestine, and erelong fixing its\nhead-quarters at Antioch. Within this freer circle, first as\npersecutor, soon as disciple, appears Saul of Tarsus. So congenial are\nits tendencies and aspirations with his nature and his antecedent\nposition, that his hostile attitude towards it might well strike him,\non looking back, as a monstrous self-contradiction. A foreigner to\nPalestine, a \"citizen of no mean city,\" familiar with a trade that\nbought from the shepherds of Mount Taurus, and sold to the Greek\nskippers of the Levant, he knew the human side of the Gentile world\ntoo well to rest in a narrow Judaism. We cannot imagine his fervid,\nfree-moving mind, content to live within the enclosure of Rabbinical\nniceties, or able to find, in the materialism of the Temple rites, his\nideal of true worship. With sympathies essentially cosmopolitan, he\ncould scarcely fail to be disappointed, not to say repelled, by\nJerusalem,--so different from the dream of his young romance. Some\nhigher, fresher communion between earth and heaven, some wider\nmonarchy for God than over a mere clan, would be to him natural\nobjects of aspiration. Hence his first persecuting attitude towards\nthe Christian Hellenists was permanently untenable; and as he went\namongst them, words were sure to fall upon his ear, and holy looks to\nmeet his eye, that would smite him with a kindred affection. Whether\nthe death of Stephen left on his mind images which he could not\nbanish, and commenced a reaction which no plunge into fresh violences\ncould arrest, it is vain to conjecture. That it should be so, would be\nonly human; for in the life of passion, triumph and humiliation are\nnear neighbors, and often the last note in the song of exultation dies\ndown into the plaint of compunction. Certain it is, that shortly\nafterwards it \"pleased God to reveal his Son in him\"; that, with the\nsuddenness characteristic of impassioned natures, he came to himself,\nand found his proper work, \"to which he had been set apart from his\nmother's womb\"; and that his new convictions were of the very same\ntype and tendency with Stephen's, and strongly discriminated from the\nMessianic doctrine of the twelve at Jerusalem. The incipient breach\nbetween Law and Gospel, latent in the Master, denied by the twelve,\nbursting forth among the Hellenists, finally realized and defined\nitself in Paul; whose intense impulses were too great for the custody\nof his will; whose soul had wings to fly, but not feet to plod; who\nfelt himself the theatre of living powers not his own, and could find\nno peace till, by communion with the heavenly Son of God, he\ndiscovered a providential love universal as human life, and a way of\nreconciliation quick and open as human trust and reverence. It is\neasier to speak of the effects than of the nature of his conversion.\nHis writings exhibit its results, but only vaguely allude to its\noccurrence, and never in terms at all resembling the recitals in the\nBook of Acts, or abating their discrepancies. Of these narratives\n(Acts ix. 1-9, xxii. 6-12, xxvi. 12-18) Mr. Jowett remarks, \"There is\nno use in attempting any forced reconcilement.\" (I. 229.) On the one\nhand, \"There is no fact in history more certain or undisputed than\nthat, in some way or other, by an inward vision or revelation of the\nLord, or by an outward miraculous appearance as he was going to\nDamascus, the Apostle was suddenly converted from being a persecutor\nto become a preacher of the Gospel.\" (I. 227.) On the other, \"If we\nsubmit the narrative of the Acts to the ordinary rules of evidence, we\nshall scarcely find ourselves able to determine whether any outward\nfact was intended by it or not.\" This, however, is of the less moment,\nbecause it is evident from the language of the Epistle to the\nGalatians (Gal. i. 15, 16) that,--\n\n\"Whether the conversion of St. Paul was an outward or an inward fact,\nit was not principally the outward appearance in the heavens, but the\ninward effect, that the Apostle would have regarded. Compare Eph. iii.\n3: 'How that by revelation he made known unto me the mystery (as I\nwrote afore in few words).'\n\n\"It has been often remarked, that miracles are not appealed to singly in\nScripture as evidences of religion, in the same way that they have been\nused by modern writers. Especially does this remark apply to the\nconversion of St. Paul. Not a hint is found in his writings, that he\nregarded 'the heavenly vision' as an objective evidence of\nChristianity. The evidence to him was the sudden change of heart; what\nhe terms, in the case of his converts, the reception of the Spirit; what\nhe had known, and what he felt; the fact that one instant he was a\npersecutor, and the second a preacher of the Gospel. The last inquiry\nthat he would have thought of making, would be that of modern\ntheologians: 'How, without some outward sign, he could be assured of the\nreality of what he had seen and heard.' No outward sign could, as such,\nhave convinced the mind of a man who fell to the ground amazed, unless\nit were certain that his companions had seen the light and heard the\nvoice. Nor unless they had distinctly been partakers of the supernatural\nvision could he ever have been satisfied that what they saw was anything\nbut a meteor, or lightning, or that the voice they heard was more than\nthe sound of thunder. No evidence of theirs would have been an answer to\nthe language of some of the rationalist divines: 'St. Paul was overtaken\nby a storm of thunder and lightning in the neighborhood of Damascus.'\nSuch difficulties are insuperable; at best we can only raise\nprobabilities in answer to them, based on the general tone of the\nnarrative in Acts ix. But we may remember that the belief in some\noutward fact was not the essential point in St. Paul's faith, and\ntherefore we need not make it the essential point in our own.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\"It is not upon the testimony of any single person, even were it far\nmore distinct than in the present instance, we can venture to peril\nthe truth of the Christian religion. Weak defences of comparatively\nunimportant points, undermine more than they support. He who has the\nSpirit of Christ and his Apostles, has the witness in himself; he who\nleads the life of Paul, has already set his seal that his words are\ntrue. Were the other view supported by the most irrefragable\nhistorical evidence,--had the sign in the clouds been beheld by whole\nmultitudes of Jews and Gentiles, believers and unbelievers,--it is to\nthe internal aspect of the event we should be more inclined to turn,\nboth as the more religious one, and the one which more closely links\nthe Apostle with ourselves.\"--Vol. I. p. 230.\n\nWith the essentially inward character of this crisis, the substance of\nthe revelation involved in it strikingly corresponds.\n\n\"It was spiritual rather than historical; a revelation of Christ in him,\nnot external information brought to him. It was the ever-growing sense\nof union with Christ, imparted, not in one revelation, but many; not\nonly by special revelation, but as the inward experience of a long life,\nfrom which his union in Christ with all mankind, and his mission to\npreach the Gospel to the Gentiles, were from the beginning inseparable;\nas a part of which the image of the meekness and gentleness of Christ\nformed itself in him, not without the remembrance that he had 'seen' Him\nwho was now passed into the heavens.\"--Jowett, Vol. I. p. 216.\n\nSince the Apostle \"nowhere speaks of any special truths or doctrines\nas imparted to himself\" (I. 72); since he never dwells on the life of\nChrist, the miracles, the parables, so that it is even doubtful what\nhe knew of them; and since his whole appeal is either, (1.) to the\nwitness of the Hebrew Scriptures, or (2.) to historical testimony, or\n(3.) to the assurance of the living Spirit,--it is evident that his\nconversion chiefly gave him that inward image of Christ crucified and\nrisen, which attended him through all his years, and so lived in him\nas to take the place of his personality, and coalesce with his\nspiritual affections, and do the work of his will.\n\nOf the Apostle's mode of thought when fresh from his conversion no\nmemorial exists; his earliest extant writing being of a date fourteen\nor fifteen years later, and the report in the Book of Acts not being\naltogether reliable--as Mr. Jowett has shown[61]--for historical\naccuracy. But we learn from his own remarkable statement to the\nGalatians, that he kept aloof from the churches in Jud\u00e6a, and was\nunknown to them by face; that it was three years before he entered\nJerusalem, or saw an Apostle; that he then made acquaintance with\nPeter, and met James, but without its affecting his independent\ncourse, which ran through eleven years more ere it brought him to\nJerusalem again; that his errand, on this second visit, was to take\nsecurity against being thwarted by Jewish jealousies sanctioned at\nhead-quarters; that from James, Cephas, and John--the \"seeming\npillars\" of the Church--he learnt nothing that he cared to hear; that\nthey, on the other hand, could not gainsay the independent rights of\nso fruitful an apostleship, and agreed with him not to cross his path,\nif he would leave them theirs. The emphasis with which, in this\nanimated passage, St. Paul dwells on the separate sources of his own\nfaith, and disowns any obligation to the prior Apostles, renders it\ncertain that the biography, the discourses, the human personality of\nJesus, were indifferent to him; and that with only the cross and the\nresurrection (contained as data in the vision of conversion) he could\nconstruct his scheme. The unmistakable sarcasm of the expressions, \u03bf\u03b9\n\u03b4\u03bf\u03ba\u03bf\u03c5\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03c2,--\u03b4\u03bf\u03ba\u03bf\u03c5\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03c2 \u03b5\u03b9\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c4\u03b9--\u03bf\u03b9 \u03b4\u03bf\u03ba\u03bf\u03c5\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03c2 \u03c3\u03c4\u03c5\u03bb\u03bf\u03b9 \u03b5\u03b9\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9,--betrays a\nstate of mind, in regard to the twelve, out of all sympathy with the\ngrounds of their authority. And the necessity, in order to agreement,\nof marking out for each, not a separate geographical beat, but a\ndistinct religious and ethnologic ground, shows that, with external\nmutual toleration, there is yet wanting the inner unity of an identic\nfaith. Only in the absence of a common Gospel would each party have\nto take its own, and spare the other. Indeed, the difference was so\nfundamental as to involve everything that St. Paul then, and\nChristians now, would deem characteristic of their religion.\n\nThe question was this,--\"How might a born Gentile become a\nChristian?\"--\"By becoming a Jew first, and then accepting Jesus as\nappointed to be the Jews' Messiah,\" was the answer at Jerusalem. \"By\nbelieving in Jesus straightway,\" was the reply of Paul. With\nirresistible force he contended that, according to his opponents'\nview, the Gospel opened no door at all, and was simply nugatory. For\nit had _always_ been possible for a Gentile to become a Jew; and if,\nwithout this step, faith in Christ was unavailing, the real efficacy\nmust lie in what the Jew brought to Christ, not in what he received\nfrom him; so that it was hard to say what good there could be in\npassing on from Moses at all, or what essential difference between the\nunconverted and the converted Hebrew. And, in truth, they were _not_\nstrongly contrasted in Jerusalem; and in habit, thought, and feeling,\nthe twelve were probably much nearer to Gamaliel than to Paul. The\naltercation between Peter and Paul at Antioch is full of instruction\non this point; proving, as it does, that the intensest form of ritual\nexclusiveness--the refusal to partake at table with the\nuncircumcised--was retained in the parent church, and enforced with\njealous vigilance. In the Syrian capital the Gentile disciples were\nnumerous, the Pauline comprehensiveness prevailed, and the\nintercourses of life were unhindered by ceremonial scruples. Peter,\nthrown amongst them on a visit, yields to the local impression, and,\nas long as he can do so unobserved, falls in with their free ways;\nfeeling all the while, no doubt, like the Quaker from home tempted\ninto a ball-dress or regimentals. Soon, however, the strict brethren\nat Jerusalem send to look after him or the Antiochians, and instantly\nhis liberality is gone; he is the prim Jew again, and the Gentile\ndishes are all unclean. And who then are these new witnesses, that he\nshould fear their report? They are deputies from James, \"the brother\nof the Lord,\" who, on account of this affinity,[62] was the\nrecognized head of the Jud\u00e6an Christians; and of whose ascetic\nabstinences, and constant devotions _on the temple pavement_, till\n\"his knees were become like the knees of a camel,\" Hegesippus\npreserved the tradition.[63] It was clear, therefore, that Peter's\nassociation with the Gentile Christians was exceptional,--a violation\nof his professed rule, and of the allowed usage of the Apostolic\nChurch. To own brotherhood with the uncircumcised believer, was a\nforfeiture of character, probably an outrage on his own conscience, to\nthe Christian Apostle! This was the result, among his first disciples,\nof nearly twenty years' belief of Christ in heaven. There could be no\nreal sympathy between such an evangile and Paul's. It let him make\nconverts, but would not acknowledge them when made. It could not\nresist the fact of his success, but treated his \"children in the\nfaith\" as in a doubtful case, left to Heaven's \"uncovenanted mercies,\"\nand needing to be put in a securer state, as soon as his back was\nturned, and teachers could be sent to complete the task. Hence the\nopposition that tracked the steps, and so much marred the work of the\nApostle, wherever he went; and in repelling which he wrote his chief\nEpistles, and matured the form of his great theology. Mr. Jowett,\nwhilst allowing that this opposition was systematic and persistent,\nand in some degree connived at by the twelve, is yet anxious to lay it\nmainly to the charge of their followers, and defines the relation of\nthe two sections thus: \"Separation, not opposition; antagonism of the\nfollowers rather than of the leaders; personal antipathy of the\nJudaizers to St. Paul, rather than of St. Paul to the twelve.\" (I.\n326.) These are fine distinctions, and for this very reason likely, we\nfear, in the rough movement of human passions, to be more ideal than\nreal. True, the feeling of a leader is ever apt to run into\nexaggeration among the followers; nor probably was Apostolic control\nover the mass of believers so complete as to exclude this danger. But\nthe Epistle to the Galatians is written by one leader, and speaks of\nthe others; and the impression it conveys is surely one of very\ndecided antagonism, and that, too, not accidental, but depending on\npermanent differences of principle, which discussion did not smooth\naway, and which penetrated into the very organism of daily life. In\nthe altercation with Peter, what was the point of Paul's rebuke? Did\nhe simply censure his moral weakness and inconsistency? Not so, or he\nwould have exhorted him to take whichever course he approved, and\nstick to it. Did he find fault with his _exceptional_ act, of eating\nwith the Gentile Christians? Not so, for he did the same himself. The\nthing he blamed was nothing less than the rule and usage by which\nPeter _habitually lived_, and which, it is declared, virtually made\nChrist of none effect. Here was a collision of irreconcilable\nprinciples, and every subsequent occasion of personal contact, under\nlike conditions, would be as liable to produce it as the first. Nor\nhave we, in fact, any reason to suppose a closer approximation at a\nlater part of the Apostolic age. That Paul looked with any particular\nrespect on the other Apostles, is surely not proved, as Mr. Jowett\nimagines, by his appeal (1 Cor. xv. 5) to their testimony respecting\nthe _fact_ of their Lord's resurrection, or by his claiming (1 Cor.\nix. 5) to stand on a like footing of privilege with them.[64] To\nproduce the spectators of an event as its proper witnesses, is no\nexpression of feeling towards them at all; and to say, \"Are the other\nApostles to have the right of taking their wives with them at the cost\nof the Church, and may not I take or decline my mere personal\nmaintenance as I think proper?\" institutes a comparison in which it\nis difficult to discover any strong sentiment of \"respect.\" Nor do the\ndoctrinal agreements, of which, as well as of the personal relations\nof fellowship, our author makes the most, amount to any substantial\nconcurrence, when we penetrate to the essence from the form. On both\nsides, says Mr. Jowett, the disciples were baptized into the _same\nname_. (I. 340.) Yes; but how different the _object named_ as present\nto their thought; in the one case, the human life in its detail, with\nthe resurrection as its crown; in the other, the cross of Christ that\nstands between them, and his life in heaven that passes beyond them!\nBoth sections, it is again said, find their _ground_ in the Old\nTestament. (I. 341.) True: but the one on Moses, the tables, and the\nholy place; the other, on Adam's nature, and the patriarchs' freedom,\nand the prophets' insight; the one, moreover, using the ground to\nintrench the Law for ever; the other, to drive the ploughshare over\nits ruins, and make it a fruitful field. Once more, it is said that on\nboth sides there was a looking for \"the day of the Lord,\" an\nexpectation of Christ's return to end the world within that\ngeneration. (I. 341.) Assuredly, but with such differences in the\nvision, that, in the apocalyptic picture of the one, Paul is not among\nthe Apostles, or his followers among the white-robed and crowned (Rev.\nxxi. 14, and ii. 2, 14, 20); while in that of the other, the advent\nwill but perfect and perpetuate a union with Christ, already present\nto their consciousness, and open to all who live with him in the\nSpirit. In short, twenty years after the death of Christ, the two\nelements that were harmonized in him, but are ever apt to part in our\nimperfect minds, the ethical and the mystical, the historical and\nspiritual, ascetic concentration and outspreading trust, fell into\ndeterminate antithesis, realizing their conflict in the immediate\nquestion of Jew and Gentile, and finding their respective\nrepresentatives in the twelve and St. Paul.\n\nWhether, besides and beyond this general development of the Christian\nsystem, there was also a special development of doctrine into higher\ndegrees of spirituality within the mind of St. Paul himself, is a\nquestion of less interest and more difficulty. Both Mr. Stanley and Mr.\nJowett find traces of such a change in the modified sentiment of his\nlater writings, and even make the Apostle himself depose to his own\nenlargement of view. We must confess that this speculation, though\nexcluded by no antecedent improbability, appears to us less well\nsupported than anything in these volumes. It is ingeniously presented\nand argued by Mr. Jowett in his introduction to the Thessalonian\nEpistles; and by means of it he explains the marked absence from these\nletters of St. Paul's usual topics and manner, and gets rid of the\nobjection urged on this ground to their authenticity. Applied at the\nother end of the Apostle's career, the hypothesis accounts for the\nprominence, in the Epistles to the Ephesians, Philippians, and\nColossians, of certain conceptions, doubtfully traceable elsewhere, of\nthe place of Christ in the hierarchy of the universe, and of his union\nwith his disciples as his \"body.\" The pastorals may be left out of\nconsideration, as their mixed phenomena cannot be much used in the\nservice of this theory. The broad facts are undoubted,--that the four\ngreat central Epistles (Galatians, Corinthians, Romans) must be taken as\nour foci of authority for the characteristics of St. Paul; that, in the\nearlier Thessalonians, these characteristics are overshadowed by the\nmore Judaic doctrine of the \"day of the Lord,\" and in the later\nEphesians, &c., by the more Gnostic conception of a spiritual hierarchy\nand pleroma. But these facts are quite overworked when set to prove our\nauthor's thesis. In order to establish a process of personal\ndevelopment, they ought to exhibit certain natural links of\npsychological and moral succession, and not mere abrupt and unrelated\ncontrasts of subject. To look for such organic indications in the sparse\nproductions of the Apostle's pen, is to ask too much from a few\nincidental letters, bearing to his whole life the proportion of a dozen\npages of random excerpts to a cyclop\u00e6dia. If only the matters treated be\ndifferent, the whole group of writings may very well express, in its\nseveral parts and aspects, one simultaneous state of mind. If the types\nof thought be such as could scarcely co-exist, the cause may be sought\nas reasonably in a plurality of authors as in a succession of beliefs in\nthe same author; and only a most delicate combination of symptoms can\nrescue the problem from this indeterminate state of double solution. Nor\nought we to forget, in weighing the probabilities, that the whole set of\nEpistles comprising the phenomena of difference were written within nine\nyears; and that, ere the first of them was produced, St. Paul had been a\nconvert fifteen years, and had reached the age of fifty. The earlier and\nlonger of these periods is a more natural seat of mental change than the\nlater and shorter; especially of a change not apparent so much in\nparticular judgments and opinions, as in the whole complexion of\nspiritual feeling and idea.\n\nBut, we are assured, the Apostle directly testifies to his own\nprogress in doctrine; and intimates (2 Cor. v. 16) that there was a\ntime when he had \"known Christ according to the flesh,\"--had preached\nhim \"in a more Jewish and less spiritual manner,\"--though \"henceforth\nhe would know him so no more.\" Mr. Stanley, explaining this\nmuch-disputed phrase, says:--\n\n\"Probably, he must be here alluding to those who laid stress on their\nhaving seen Christ in Palestine, or on their connection with him or\nwith 'the brothers of the Lord' by actual descent; and if so, they\nwere probably of the party '_of Christ_.' But the words lead us to\ninfer that something of this kind had once been his own state of mind,\nnot only in the time before his conversion (which he would have\ncondemned more strongly), but since. If so, it is (like Phil. iii.\n13-15) a remarkable confession of former weakness and error, and of\nconscious progress in religious knowledge.\"--Vol. II. p. 106.\n\nDid St. Paul then ever \"lay stress on having seen Christ in Palestine\"?\nor on actual blood-connection with him? or on \"something of this kind\"?\nTo personal relations with Jesus in his ministry or family he had no\npretensions; and the spirit with which he had _always_ treated\neverything \"of this kind,\" is so apparent from his narrative to the\nGalatians as to contradict Mr. Stanley's inference. Mr. Jowett gives the\nphrase a different turn. Finding (Gal. v. 11) the Apostle charged with\nat one time \"preaching circumcision,\" he accepts this as synonymous with\n\"knowing Christ according to the flesh\" (i. 12). This, however, would\nimply that he was originally no \"Apostle to the Gentiles,\" but insisted\non _mediate_ conversion into the Gospel through the law. Feeling the\nirreconcilable variance of such an hypothesis with the autobiographical\nnotices in the Epistles, Mr. Jowett lowers his phraseology, and\nattributes to St. Paul's early teaching only such sentiments as \"_might\nbe thought_\" to make him \"a preacher of the circumcision.\" And so we\nlose ourselves again in \"something of the kind.\" Yet at last, in the\nfollowing passage, we find the critic's finger distinctly laid on the\ndoctrine which he proposes to id entify with the Apostle's \"knowing\nChrist according to the flesh.\"\n\n\"That such a change\" (in the Apostle's teaching) \"is capable of being\ntraced, has been already intimated. Both Epistles to the Thessalonians,\nwith the exception of a few practical precepts, are the expansion and\nrepetition of a single thought,--'the coming of Christ.' It was the\nabsorbing thought of the Apostle and his converts, quickened in both by\nthe persecutions which they had suffered. Not that with this expectation\nof Christ's kingdom there mingled any vision of a temporal rule over the\nkingdoms of the earth. That was far from the Apostle. But there was that\nin it which fell short of the more perfect truth. It was not, 'The\nkingdom of God is within you'; but, 'Lo here, and lo there.' It was\ndefined by time, and was to take place within the Apostle's own life.\nThe images in which it clothed itself were traditional among the Jews;\nthey were outward and visible, liable to the misconstruction of the\nenemies of the faith, and to the misapprehension of the first\nconverts,--imperfectly, as the Apostle saw afterwards, conveying the\ninward and spiritual meaning. The kingdom which they described was not\neternal and heavenly, but very near and present, ready to burst forth\neverywhere, and by its very nearness in point of time seeming to touch\nour actual human state. Afterwards the kingdom of God appeared to remove\nitself within, to withdraw into the unseen world. The earthen vessel\nmust be broken first, the unbeliever unclothed that he might be clothed\nupon, that mortality may be swallowed up of life. He was no longer\n'waiting for the Son from heaven'; but 'desirous to depart and be with\nChrist' (Phil. i. 23). Such is the change, not so much in the Apostle's\nbelief as in his mode of conception; a change natural to the human mind\nitself, and above all to the Jewish mind; a change which, after it had\ntaken place, left the vestiges of the prior state in the Montanism of\nthe second century, which may not improperly be regarded as the spirit\nof the first century overliving itself. Old things had passed away, and,\nbehold, all things became new. And yet the former things--the material\nvision of Christ's kingdom--have ever been prone to return; not only in\nthe first and second century, but in every age of enthusiasm, men have\nbeen apt to walk by sight and not by faith. In the hour of trouble and\nperplexity, when darkness spreads itself over the earth, and Antichrist\nis already come, they have lifted up their eyes to the heavens, looking\nfor the sign of the Son of man.\"--Vol. I. p. 10.\n\nIf to announce the coming of Christ is to \"know him according to the\nflesh,\" St. Paul assuredly did not keep his resolve \"henceforth to know\nhim no more.\" For the expectation reappears, without any perceptible\nchange, in his later Epistles; as in Rom. xiii. 11, 12: \"Do this the\nrather, knowing the time,--that now is the time to awake out of sleep:\nfor our salvation is nearer now than when we first believed: the night\nis far spent; the day is at hand\";--and in Phil. iv. 5: \"The Lord is at\nhand.\"[65] Moreover, it is utterly impossible that _this_ element of his\nteaching could be adduced in proof of his \"preaching circumcision.\" It\nhad nothing to do with the question of Jew and Gentile; with the most\nopposite solutions of which it is equally compatible.\n\nIn truth, our author has here combined two passages, which throw no\nlight on one another, and has extracted from each what neither is able\nto yield. The words (in Gal. v. 11) \"if I _still_ preach circumcision,\"\ndo not really imply that the Apostle once _did_ so preach; though in an\naccurate writer this sense might be insisted on. He is not thinking of\n_his own_ former notions, but of _other people's_, continuing unaltered\nafter they ought to have changed. There _were_ persons who, in spite of\nthe dispensation of the Spirit, _still_ preached circumcision after its\nsignificance was gone. This did not Paul; but he was charged with doing\nso: and he says, \"Well, if so, I am a Judaizer like you, and I cannot be\n_also_ chargeable with teaching that the cross of Christ supersedes the\nLaw.\" The true sense is, therefore, given by the rendering, \"If I preach\ncircumcision _still_,\"--that is, as _still necessary_; and no tale is\ntold of the Apostle's earlier teaching.\n\nThe other passage (2 Cor. v. 16) _does_ undoubtedly refer to a former\nstate of the writer's own mind, when he \"recognized Christ according to\nthe flesh.\" But he alludes, we apprehend, to the period when he was a\n\"Hebrew of the Hebrews\"; and had no conception as yet of a suffering,\ndying, and heavenly Christ;--when he was full of the thoughts still\noccupying the twelve, who did not take in the significance of the cross,\nbut carried past it their old Messianic notions. \"There may have been a\ntime,\" he means to say, \"when I thought only of a national, Israelitish,\nhistorical Messiah, bound by the law of his fathers, and binding to it.\nHad this been the true conception of him, then would it have been a\nmatter of privilege and pride to be near his person, to stand in natural\nrelations with him, and be mixed up with the incidents of his local\ncareer. But ever since I understood the cross, and saw that Messiah's\nlife began in death, a far other truth has dawned upon me. When he gave\nup the ghost, all the accidents of his humanity--his lineage, his\nnationality, his earthly manifestation--were left behind and died away;\nand they must carry with them into extinction whatever feelings had\ncollected round them,--family pride, Jewish exclusiveness, and the\nmemories of personal companionship. From that moment, clear of earthly\nentanglements, Christ in the spirit draws to him a community of human\nspirits,--one with him in self-abnegation, dying to the earthly past;\none with him in re-birth, living to heavenly union with God. Thus, if\nany one be in Christ, it amounts to a new creation; his old self has\npassed away; behold, all things have become new.\" The Apostle,\ntherefore, sets up the death of Christ, as cutting off, for all\ndisciples, the prior time from the subsequent; as flinging the former,\nwith all the human conceptions that cling to it, into eclipse and\nannihilation, and beginning a new and luminous existence in the latter;\nas breaking the very identity of the believer, and delivering him from\nthe thraldom of nature into the freedom of the Spirit. The cross had\nalready done its work ere St. Paul became a disciple. He had never known\nhis Lord but in the spirit; and the \"Christ,\" whom he had \"known\naccording to the flesh,\" was the Jewish Messiah of his previous and\nunconverted conception. Mr. Stanley's objection, that the Apostle could\nhardly have spoken of his unconverted state without stronger\ncondemnation, might perhaps hold, were the allusions to his fit of\npersecuting violence against the Church. But there was no occasion for\nself-reproach in describing the picture of a national Messiah, on which,\nin common with his countrymen, he had permitted his imagination to\ndwell.[66]\n\nNeither, then, from his own direct assertion, nor from comparison of\nhis several writings, _inter se_, do we learn anything of the alleged\n_development_ of the Apostle's doctrine. There is no element in it,\nthat, from inability to co-exist with the rest, requires to be\nassigned to a date of its own. The breach with Judaism, especially, we\nconceive to have been complete from the first, and unsusceptible of\ndegrees; nay, to have been the initial principle of his conversion,\nthe secretly prepared condition or tendency of mind that rendered him\naccessible to the Divine call, and open to sudden change in the\ndirection of his character. When first released from the formulas of a\nJewish Christology, and communing in spirit with a heavenly and\nuniversal Lord, his mind would doubtless be met by a multitude of new\nproblems, and would work freely towards their resolution, with the\nquickening consciousness of new light streaming in, and a grander\nlandscape of Providence opening before him. The very intensity of this\ninward action, however,--the thirst it sustains for its own\ncompletion,--forbids us to attribute to it a life-long duration; ere\nfifteen years were passed, its force would be spent by having realized\nits work, and attained the equilibrium of a holy peace. Whatever\nsubsequent changes occurred would be of a different nature, enforced\nby the turn of the world's affairs; a mere remoulding or\nreproportioning of inward faiths, in adaptation to the altered\npressures of the hour. Of such modifications, such retreat towards the\nbackground of once favorite ideas, and advance of dim suggestions into\nstrong light, there are doubtless examples in St. Paul. The\nexpectation of Christ's speedy coming to close the world's affairs,\nand realize \"the kingdom,\" could not but dominate at first, and pale\nevery other interest and belief by the terror and glory of its light.\nBut there is a limit beyond which the strain of longing cannot be\nsustained; as it subsides, the present and actual recovers power, and\npushes its problems forward, and gains once more the eye that had\nlooked beyond them. And so, after a while, spring up questions of\nChristian order that will not bear to be put off;--how to live in a\nworld that, however near its doom, entangles the disciple still in a\nweb of difficult relations; how to touch the skirt of its idolatries,\nand not be tainted; how to behave to wife and child in this last\ngeneration of human affairs; how to seal up the passions that _ought\nto die_ within the saints, but were not dead; how to prevent the gifts\nof the Spirit from overbalancing themselves, on the heights of a\ndizzied mind, into outrages on nature; how to preserve to the woman\nand the slave, in their exulting reaction from degraded life, the\nsense of modest reverence, and the appreciation of faithful service.\nDay by day questions of this kind insisted on attention, and brought\nout a fresh type of sentiments proper for their determination, and\noffering to view a new side of the Christian thought and life. Nor,\nagain, could many years elapse, before the Jew and Gentile difficulty\nchanged its whole aspect, and expanded, from a petty scruple\ncompromised at Jerusalem, into a world-wide theology, regulative of\nall future history. When it became evident that it was no question\nabout a small sprinkling of ethnic converts,--mere hangers-on of\nHebrew families and synagogues; when the delay of Messiah, and the\nenergy of Paul, gave occasion for thousands to pour in; when it seemed\nimminent that Palestine should be outvoted and overpowered by the\ngrowth of the foreign Gospel, the alarm of the Judaic Christians\nbecame great. They tracked Paul's steps; their emissaries were\neverywhere; their arguments and doctrine became more constricted, and\nhis more wide and free; and as the clouds visibly lowered over Israel,\ntouching him as well as them with gloom, all the more did he see the\nsunshine flood the lands beyond; and his national trust assumed this\nform,--that, maybe, the outlying heavenly light may creep back as the\ndark hour passes, and again set the shadows moving on the hills it has\nso long glorified. The Apostle died before the question settled\nitself by the mere force of the facts,--by the utter breaking up of\nthe Jewish nation, and the inpouring Gentile numbers. Others waited to\nbe driven into catholicity by events; it is his glory to have\nsurrendered himself to the inspiration that implanted in him its\nprinciple from the first. He lived, however, to see a mighty growth,\nthough not the final fruit; and the grand scale on which he conducts\nthe controversy, in his Epistle to the Romans, by converging\nreasonings fetched from afar out of history, and aloft out of the\nperfections of God, and deep out of human nature, shows how his\nthought expands with the exigencies of experience, and advances to\nfill the whole greatness of his opportunities.\n\nThere can be no doubt that the earliest Apostolic Christianity consisted\nmainly in the faith of Christ's coming again, \"to-day, or to-morrow, or\nthe third day.\" This event, with its effect on the living, was _the one\nonly point_, Mr. Stanley conceives, on which St. Paul, in his great\nchapter on the Resurrection, professed to have a distinct revelation:--\n\n\"On one point only he professes to have a distinct revelation, and\nthat not with regard to the dead, but to the living. So firmly was the\nfirst generation of Christians possessed of the belief that they\nshould live to see the second coming, that it is here assumed as a\nmatter of course; and their fate, as near and immediate, is used to\nillustrate the darker and more mysterious subject of the fate of those\nalready dead. That vision of 'the last man,' which now seems so remote\nas to live only in poetic fiction, was to the Apostle an awful\nreality; but it is brought forward only to express the certainty that,\neven here, a change must take place, the greatest that imagination can\nconceive.\"--Vol. I. p. 398.\n\nThat this belief, where held at all, should be paramount and absorbing,\nfollows from its very nature. Accordingly, St. Paul, as Mr. Jowett\nremarks, makes even the essence of the Gospel to consist in it:--\n\n\"It appears remarkable, that St. Paul should make the essence of the\nGospel consist, not in the belief in Christ, or in taking up the\ncross of Christ, but in the hope of his coming again. Such, however,\nwas the faith of the Thessalonian Church; such is the tone and spirit\nof the Epistle. Neither in the Apostolic times, nor in our own, can we\nreduce all to the same type. One aspect of the Gospel is more outward,\nanother more inward; one seems to connect with the life of Christ,\nanother with his death; one with his birth into the world, another\nwith his coming again. If we will not insist on determining the times\nand the seasons, or on knowing the manner how, all these different\nways may lead us within the veil. The faith of modern times embraces\nmany parts and truths; yet we allow men, according to their individual\ncharacter, to dwell on this truth or that, as more peculiarly\nappropriate to their nature. The faith of the early Church was simpler\nand more progressive, pausing in the same way on a particular truth,\nwhich the circumstances of the world or the Church brought before\nthem.\"--Vol. I. p. 46.\n\nOnly it is not on \"a particular _truth_,\" but on a particular _error_,\nthat the \"pause\" of faith was here made;--an error found or implied,\nas our author observes, \"in almost every book of the New Testament; in\nthe discourses of our Lord himself, as well as in the Acts of the\nApostles; in the Epistles of St. Paul, no less than in the Book of the\nRevelation.\" Mr. Jowett does not evade the difficulty. In an admirable\nessay on this special subject, he frankly states the facts, traces\ntheir influence on the early Church, accepts them as among the limits\nwhich human conditions impose on Divine revelation, and shows from\nthem, how, even in God's highest teachings, he leaves much truth to be\ndrawn forth from time and experience.\n\n\"It is a subject,\" he says, \"from which the interpreter of Scripture\nwould gladly turn aside. For it seems as if he were compelled to say\nat the outset, 'that St. Paul was mistaken, and that in support of his\nmistake he could appeal to the words of Christ himself.' Nothing can\nbe plainer than the meaning of those words, and yet they seem to be\ncontradicted by the very fact, that, after eighteen centuries, the\nworld is as it was. In the words which are attributed, in the Epistle\nof St. Peter, to the unbelievers of that day, we might truly say that,\nsince the fathers have fallen asleep, all things remain the same from\nthe beginning. Not only do 'all things remain the same,' but the very\nbelief itself (in the sense in which it was held by the first\nChristians) has been ready to vanish away.\"--Vol. I. p. 96.\n\nIt is the infirmity of human nature--an infirmity irremovable by\ninspiration--to translate eternal truth into forms of time, to throw\ncolor into the invisible till it can be seen, and look into any given\ninfinity till finite shapes appear within it, and it is felt as infinite\nno more. The soul tries, as it were, every apparent path, from spiritual\napprehension to scientific knowledge, from deep insight to clear\nforesight, from perception of what God _is_ to vaticination of what he\n_does_; and abides alone with the Holy Presence, that will not tell His\ncounsels, but is ever there himself. From the world of Divine reality\ninto that of transient phenomena, there is no bridge found as yet; and\nonly He, whose footsteps need no ground, can pass across. We know\nsomewhat on both sides; but the chasm between vindicates its perpetuity\nagainst all invasion. _Vision_ for faith; _prevision_ for science:--this\nseems to be the inviolable allotment of gifts by the Father of lights.\nAnd whoever overlooks this rule, and, inspired with discernment of what\nabsolutely is, ventures to pronounce what relatively will be, embodies\nhis truth in a form whence it must again be disengaged. The deepest\nspiritual insight is ineffectual to teach _past_ history; it is equally\nso to teach _future_ history. The moment you lose sight of this fact,\nand expect the sons of God to _predict_ for you, you confound\ninspiration with divination, and will pay the double penalty of missing\nthe truth they have, and being disappointed at that which they have not.\nIt is not always much otherwise with themselves; the light which they\n_are_, they do not _see_; and that which shapes itself before them, and\nbecomes the _object_ of their minds, is but the shadow of human things,\ndeepened and sharpened, perhaps also misplaced, by the preternatural\nintensity. By its very inwardness and closeness to the soul's centre,\nGod's Spirit may express itself chiefly in the unconscious attitudes and\nmanifestations of the mind; especially as it is these that often leave\nthe most ineffaceable impressions of character upon others, and may,\ntherefore, be the vehicle of a more life-giving power than any purposed\nteaching or more conscious authority. The disappointment of an avowed\nprediction, or the error of an elaborated doctrine, no more affects the\nDivine inspiration at the heart of Christianity, than the\nmiscalculations and failure of the Crusades disprove their Providential\nfunction in the historical education of mankind. Mr. Jowett takes up the\nquestion from another side, and shows how the faith in a future life,\nthough not directly _given_, necessarily disengaged itself in the end\nfrom the expectation of the coming of Christ.\n\n\"We naturally ask, why a future life, as distinct from this, was not\nmade a part of the first preaching of the Gospel?--why, in other\nwords, the faith of the first Christians did not exactly coincide with\nour own? There are many ways in which the answer to this question may\nbe expressed. The philosopher will say, that the difference in the\nmode of thought of that age and our own rendered it impossible,\nhumanly speaking, that the veil of sense should be altogether removed.\nThe theologian will admit that Providence does not teach men that\nwhich they can teach themselves. While there are lessons which it\nimmediately communicates, there is much which it leaves to be drawn\nforth by time and events. Experience may often enlarge faith; it may\nalso correct it. No one can doubt that the faith and practice of the\nearly Church, respecting the admission of the Gentiles, were greatly\naltered by the fact that the Gentiles themselves flocked in; 'the\nkingdom of heaven suffered violence, and the violent took it by\nforce.' In like manner, the faith respecting the coming of Christ was\nmodified by the continuance of the world itself. Common sense suggests\nthat those who were in the first ecstasy of conversion, and those who\nafter the lapse of years saw the world unchanged and the fabric of\nthe Church on earth rising around them, could not regard the day of\nthe Lord with the same feeling. While to the one it seemed near and\npresent, at any moment ready to burst forth, to the other it was a\nlong way off, separated by time, and as it were by place, a world\nbeyond the stars, yet, strangely enough, also having its dwelling in\nthe heart of man, as it were the atmosphere in which he lived, the\nmental world by which he was surrounded. Not at once, but gradually,\ndid the cloud clear up, and the one mode of faith take the place of\nthe other. Apart from the prophets, though then beyond them, springing\nup in a new and living way in the soul of man, corrected by long\nexperience, as the 'fathers one by one fell asleep,' as the hopes of\nthe Jewish race declined, as ecstatic gifts ceased, as a regular\nhierarchy was established in the Church, the belief in the coming of\nChrist was transformed from being outward to becoming inward, from\nbeing national to becoming individual and universal,--from being\nJewish to becoming Christian.\"--Vol. I. p. 99.\n\nWith the Apostle Paul, however, the \"coming of Christ\" occupies the\nplace of our \"future life\"; the _living_ mass of disciples, waiting\ntill then for the \"redemption of their bodies,\" fill the foreground\nand largest space in the scene; the rising of the dead is the\nsubsidiary fact, needful to the completeness of the gift of life in\nChrist. On this crisis, supposed to be so near, his eye was\nexclusively fixed whenever he spoke of the Christian's \"salvation\";\nand could he have been told that no such crisis would come, that, for\nfifty generations, the present order of the world would vindicate its\nstability, we cannot imagine what shape his faith would have assumed;\nwhether he would have made light of all these centuries, said that\nwith the Eternal \"a thousand years are but as one day,\" and still\nopposed to one another the \u03b1\u03b9\u03c9\u03bd \u03bf\u03c5\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 and the \u03b1\u03b9\u03c9\u03bd \u03bc\u03b5\u03bb\u03bb\u03c9\u03bd; or whether\nhe would have found that the distinction was evanescent, and the\nkingdom of God was to be not sent hither, but to be created here; or\nhow, in either case, he would have represented to himself the state\nof the innumerable dead. These are questions which did not arise for\nhim; and it were vain to conjecture his solution. He is engaged with\nother problems;--all, indeed, having reference to that never doubted\ncrisis, and arising out of its manifold relations, yet so treated by\nhim as to detach them unawares from their origin, and give them a\npermanent place in the religious consciousness of men. _Who_ were to\nbe the subjects of that salvation? How were they _qualified_? By what\nact of God's, and what temper of their own, to reach the blessing?\nWhat present _assurance_ had they of this approaching good? It is in\ndealing with these questions that St. Paul darts from his objective\ntheology into the deepest recesses of human experience, and fetches\ninto expression spiritual truths that transcend their incidental\noccasion, and will remain valid while there is a soul in man.\n\nIn the Apostle's habit of thought there is a certain antique _realism_\nwhich renders many of his doctrines and reasonings almost\nunpresentable before a modern imagination. With our sharp notions of\npersonality, of the entire insulation of each mind as an individual\nentity, of the antithesis of inner self to the outer everything, we\nare quite out of St. Paul's latitude, and shall be perpetually taking\nfor figures and personification what had a literal earnestness for\nhim. The universe is with him full of Agents that for us are only\nAttributes,--the theatre of certain _real_ principles (_i. e._\nprinciples having existence independent of us), that carry out their\ntendencies and history among themselves, and upon and through\nindividual men, as organs or media of their activity. Thus, _Sin_ is\nneither the mere voluntary unfaithfulness of the transgressor, nor the\nperson of the tempter; but _both_ of these; and that not apart from\none another or alternately, but blended together under the conception\nof a universal element of evil, having its objective focus in Satan\nand its subjective manifestation in man. In like manner its opposite,\n_Righteousness_ (Justification), is not exclusively human rectitude,\nor the Divine justice, or _quasi_-goodness substituted for genuine;\nbut less ethical than the first, less forensic than the last, and\nmore ontological than either; that element, we may say, in the\nessence of God which sets man at one with Him, and is the common\nground of their harmonious relation. Around these two contrasted\nprinciples, others, equally conceived as real elements, and\nmisunderstood as mere attributes or phenomena, group themselves on\neither side. With the former is _Death_,--the pair being _gemini_, not\nsimply joined by decree of God in time, but inseparable _in rerum\nnatura_, co-ordinates by physical necessity; and _Flesh_, the material\nor medium that furnishes the endowments of sense, and instinct, and\nthe natural will, and affords to Sin its seat and hold upon us; and\n_Law_, the discriminating light that parts the mixture of good and\nevil, and, on entering into us, brings the slumbering evil into the\nconscious state, and so makes it sin relatively to us, and\nsimultaneously shows us the good without adding to the force for\nproducing it. With the latter--Righteousness--are enjoined _Life_, the\npositive opposite of Death, and, like it, a function of the moral as\nwell as the natural constitution, the immortal energy inherent in\nsinless being; and _Spirit_, the absolute essence of God, present as\nthe vivifying source of whatever transcends nature,--a faint\nsusceptibility, felt only to be overmastered, in the sons of Adam,--a\nconquering power, coalescing with the personality itself, in Christ\nand his disciples,--and a spontaneous flow of higher life seizing on\nconverted men as organs of its charismata; and _Faith_,--the opposite\nof Law,--the passing out of ourselves to embrace unseen relations, to\nmake conscious appropriation of the Spirit, and thus enter into union\nwith Christ and God. Even this most subjective of all the great\nprinciples of the Apostle's theology, is more than a mere private and\npersonal act. As common to all the disciples,--the simultaneous gaze\nthat connects them as a whole with Christ,--its single threads pass\nout and become a converging web. As something other than the act (of\nobedience) which men were under bond to render, it is a new institute\nof God, and, relatively to them, reads itself off as _Grace_. As\nopposed to Law, in which there is a delivery of the Divine will _into_\nmen, it involves a _drawing_ by Divine love of an affection _out of_\nmen. And under all these aspects it acquires something of that\nindeterminate character, subjective and objective at once, which the\nassociated elements possess in a much higher degree. The same mode of\nthought is traceable in another form. The Apostle exhibits the\nprovidential scheme of the human race by distributing them into two\nsuccessive _gentes_,--the earthy or natural, the heavenly or\nspiritual; and lays down all the predicates of each direct from the\npersonal history of their respective heads, Adam and Christ. Whatever\nis true of the founder is considered as known of the followers; the\nphenomena of his being spread themselves inclusively to theirs. He is\nregarded, not simply as a representative individual, while they are\nthe represented individuals; but as a _type_ of being within which\nthey are contained, and which in its history and vicissitudes carries\nthem hither and thither. Condemnation and redemption take place by\n_Kinds_, and fall on particular persons in virtue of their partaking\nof these kinds. Settle the attributes of the species, as found in its\narchetype, and you know what to say of individuals. It is not\ndifficult to understand this way of thinking so long as the Apostle\napplies it, as a naturalist might, to the _Adamic gens_; and argues,\nthat, being made of earthy materials (\u03c7\u03bf\u03b9\u03ba\u03bf\u03b9), and having the focus of\npersonality in \u03c3\u03b1\u03c1\u03be, with no adequate counterpoise of \u03c0\u03bd\u03b5\u03c5\u03bc\u03b1, it is\nthe seat of sin and death. But it is less easy to follow the Apostle's\nmeaning when he similarly identifies Christians with Christ, and\ntransfers, or rather extends, to them all the great characteristics of\nhis existence. They are crucified to the world. They are \"all _dead_\"\nwith him; they are \"buried with him\" in baptism; they are \"risen with\nhim\"; their \"life is hid with him in God.\" And while this is true of\n_living_ disciples, he is no less \"the first-fruits of them that\nsleep\"; his resurrection is but the first pulsation of an act that\nnext proceeds to theirs, and then completes the transformation of the\nliving. All this is meant for more than rhetorical analogy. With\nChrist, and in Christ, took place a re-constitution of humanity. Of\nthe new man, he was the ideal and archetype; inverting the\nproportions of \u03c3\u03b1\u03c1\u03be and \u03c0\u03bd\u03b5\u03c5\u03bc\u03b1, and having his essence and personality\nin the latter, so as to render sin an unrealized possibility and death\na transitory accident. The spirit in him which evinced its life-giving\npower in raising him from the dead, is no more limited to his\nindividuality, than flesh and blood were the attributes of Adam only.\nIt spreads to the whole family of souls, springing up into his\nkindred; it flows into them as they look up to him in faith, and are\nreborn to him; it repeats in them the fruits it produced in him,--the\nsacrifice of self,--the dying away of passion and pride,--the heavenly\nlove that darts upon the wing whither the bleeding feet of conscience\nfail to climb,--together with many \"a gift less excellent,\" of healing\nand of tongues. The consciousness of this new heart, set free with\nDivine affections, is immediate evidence of their union with Christ,\nof the Real Presence of his Spirit within them, of their substantive\nincorporation into his essence, and therefore of a restored harmony\nand even oneness with God. To what extent the Apostle conceived that\nthis transformation of nature, by partnership in the properties of the\nheavenly Christ, might be carried in the living disciple, it is not\npossible to say. It amounted to \"a new creation\"; and among the \"old\nthings\" that had already \"passed away,\" he probably included more than\nthe moral habits and feelings of the unconverted state; and conceived\nthat the same spirit by which these died out was purifying also the\nbodily organism of the believer, and leavening it with antiseptic\npreparation for its final investiture with immortality. That last\n\"change,\" like the resurrection itself, is not regarded as an external\nmiracle, suddenly forced on an uncongenial material by mere\nAlmightiness; but as the last and crowning stage of an internal\ndevelopment, whose principle had long been active,--the emergence from\nall entanglement with \"flesh and blood\" of that spiritual element\nwhich in Jesus \"could not be holden of death,\" and which, dwelling in\nhis disciples, already deadened and damped the vitality of the \u03c3\u03b1\u03c1\u03be,\nand would at last quicken the \u03c3\u03c9\u03bc\u03b1 with imperishable life. Thus it is\nthat \"Christ\" is not to St. Paul an historical individual, but a\ngeneric nature,--the archetype of a spiritual species, sharing his\nattributes and repeating his experience.\n\nCleared as a stage for these contending principles, the universe\nwitnesses their co-existence and antagonism from the beginning to the\nend of time.\n\nThe great drama has two main acts, and the cross of Christ divides them.\n\nThe first is a descending period, accumulating the force of evil to a\npitch of frightful triumph. The second is an ascending period, at\nwhose goal the last enemy is gone.\n\nIn the opening scene of the first, extending from Adam to Moses, both\nFlesh and Spirit were there; not yet, however, in conflict; but the\nlatter sleeping as a mere susceptibility, and the former having its own\nway in the instinctive life of man. The state was not one which, had the\ncomparison been made, would have accorded with the Divine will. It was\ntherefore really, though unconsciously, a reign of Sin, as was proved by\nthe presence of Sin's inseparable sign,--the generations _died_.\n\nThe next scene was marked by the introduction of _Law_. The effects\nwere, to bring into full consciousness the sin before unmarked, and so\nmake it exceedingly sinful; to set man at variance with himself by\ngiving him discernment, and quickening his longing and his fear,\nwithout any new spring of force; and actually to multiply\ntransgressions by enumerating and suggesting them.\n\nHence, at the close of the period, an utter rotting away of human\nsociety, and a confirmed moral incapacity of the widest sweep. The\nspontaneous law of nature and the written law of Moses being equally\nset at naught by Gentile and by Jew, any promises God might have given\nfell through, from human breach of the conditions. This was the moment\nseized for instituting a new creation; the promised Messiah of the\nJews being the vehicle of its accomplishment, and the link of\nconnection between the old and the new.\n\nAll the Messianic conditions were _fulfilled_,--the right tribe, the\nright family, the right personal marks and characteristics. But they\nwere also _transcended_. Along with the human infirmities and\nliabilities was present, in this archetype of a new race, the Spirit\nin such full measure as to constitute his proper self, or at least win\nthat centre by complete victory over nature and temptation and\nsurrender of all he had and was to a Divine Love. As he had baffled\nand held off Sin, Death had so far no business with him. Yet what was\nto be done? for there were conflicting claims upon him. Sinless in\nhimself, he was of a sin-doomed type, the _likeness_ of sinful flesh\n(\u1f41\u03bc\u03bf\u03b9\u03c9\u03bc\u03b1 \u03c3\u03b1\u03c1\u03ba\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f01\u03bc\u03b1\u03c1\u03c4\u03b9\u03b1\u03c2), and therefore liable to the incidents of\nsuch a race. This was at least his property by nature. At the same\ntime, he was internally and essentially of the opposite type; the\nimage of God (\u03b5\u03b9\u03ba\u03c9\u03bd \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5 \u0398\u03b5\u03bf\u03c5), and so, foreign to the mortal fate, at\nonce imperishable and life-giving. In the person of this double\nnature, the contest between the antagonists must come to an issue; and\nwhile _both_ gain their due, it is the last triumph of evil, the first\nopening of eternal good. Sin, recognizing in his suffering and mortal\nframe its own physical counterpart and shadow, strikes him with death,\nexerting for that end its own \"strength\" and instrument, \"the Law.\"\nBut in thus carrying its course upon the guiltless, it overreached and\nspent itself; and the Law, lending itself to such an act, fell into\nself-contradiction, and disappeared in suicide. He died, therefore, in\nvirtue of what was really foreign to him, as _representative_ of a Sin\nwhich was not his, but which yet involved him, as human, in sorrow and\nmortality. But no sooner had this happened, than his \"Righteousness\"\nvindicated its power. He came out of death, which _could not keep_ one\nso holy; and now, escaped from nationality, and placed aloft as the\nideal of the new humanity, his vivifying spirit penetrates the heart\nof men below, and, taking them on the side of faith and love instead\nof will, kindles a divine fire that burns up the dead elements of the\n\"old man,\" and wraps the \"heavenly places\" and the earthly in a\ncommon blaze. By spiritual affiliation with him, his disciples enter\nthe essence of all holy and immortal natures. And so it comes to pass,\nthat, through the incidence of sorrow and death in the wrong place, an\nobjective power of \"righteousness\" is set free, that reconciles\nmankind with God, and restores them to sanctity and life. The past and\nthe future of humanity were concentrated, just at the turning point\nbetween them, in one person; the natural element, bearing the burden\nof the past, perished and fell away; the spiritual and divine\nprinciple, containing the germ of the future, asserted its\ninextinguishable life; and from heaven evinced its self-multiplying\npower, making him only \"the first-born of many brethren.\"\n\nThus was the second act initiated, which also presented two successive\nscenes. During the first, the Christ was still in heaven; and his Spirit\non earth, having the community of disciples for its organ or \"body,\"\nstood in presence still of the opposing powers. In the world, it\nencroached upon the province of evil continually, and reclaimed a\ncitadel here and there. In the Church, if it infused as yet no _perfect_\ngrace, it left its \"earnest\" everywhere;--ecstatic gifts and mystic\ninsights; hearts set free from pride and scorn, and brought to the\nmeekness and gentleness of Christ; the self-seeking will surrendered;\nthe anxious conscience led to trust; the tangles of thought smoothed out\nby a wisdom not its own; and outward distinctions reduced to naught by\nfaith, and hope, and charity. Nevertheless, Satan disturbed the \u03ba\u03bf\u03c3\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2\nstill; and even the children of the Spirit were but prisoners yet, and\nfelt the tent of nature but a poor abode. They had yet to wait for their\nfull adoption; when the tabernacle in which they groaned being\ndissolved, they should be invested with an unwasting frame.\n\nThis was reserved for the final scene, the coming and the reign of\nChrist. At this culminating crisis, the antagonism which in Adam was as\nyet unfelt from the ascendency of nature, was to die out and cease on\nthe absolute triumph of the Spirit. Physically, death was to disappear;\nthe departed being finally reinstated in life, and the living \"clothed\nupon\" with their new garment ere yet they were stripped of the old.\nMorally, the remnant of inner strife and temptation, that even the faith\nof saints might leave unappeased, would pass away, aspiration be\nharmonized with achieving power, and in conscious presence of the\nobjects of deepest affection and reverence the sighs of separation would\ncease. As soon as resistance was over, and there was nothing to subdue,\nthe separate function of God's redeeming and sanctifying Spirit would\nfind no work; \"the kingdom would be resigned to the Father\"; \"the Son\nwould be subject\"; and \"the Trinity would cease.\"\n\nWhether the Apostle's vision of trust was really of universal success,\nand included even those who should still be found astray at last, is a\nquestion difficult of direct determination; but not very doubtful when\ntried by the general scope of his doctrine. Mr. Jowett's judgment,\ngiven in the following passage, truly seizes, we think, the feeling of\nSt. Paul. The author is commenting on the parallel drawn between Adam\nand Christ, especially on the words, \"As by one man's transgression\nsin entered into the world, and death by sin,\" and has shown that they\ndo _not_ teach any imputation of Adam's sin.\n\n\"It is hardly necessary to ask the further question, what meaning we\ncan attach to the imputation of sin and guilt which are not our own,\nand of which we are unconscious. God can never see us other than we\nreally are, or judge us without reference to all our circumstances and\nantecedents. If we can hardly suppose that he would allow a fiction of\nmercy to be interposed between ourselves and him, still less can we\nimagine that he would interpose a fiction of vengeance. If he requires\nholiness before he will save, much more, may we say in the Apostle's\nform of speech, will he require sin before he dooms us to perdition.\nNor can anything be in spirit more contrary to the living\nconsciousness of sin of which the Apostle everywhere speaks, than the\nconception of sin as dead, unconscious evil, originating in the act of\nan individual man, in the world before the flood.\n\n\"On the whole, then, we are led to infer that in the Augustinian\ninterpretation of this passage, even if it agree with the letter of\nthe text, too little regard has been paid to the extent to which St.\nPaul uses figurative language, and to the manner of his age in\ninterpretations of the Old Testament. The difficulty of supposing him\nto be allegorizing the narrative of Genesis is slight, in comparison\nwith the difficulty of supposing him to countenance a doctrine at\nvariance with our first notions of the moral nature of God.\n\n\"But when the figure is dropped, and allowance is made for the manner\nof the age, the question once more returns upon us,--'What is the\nApostle's meaning?' He is arguing, we see, \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4 \u03b1\u03bd\u03b8\u03c1\u03c9\u03c0\u03bf\u03bd, and taking\nhis stand on the received opinions of his time. Do we imagine that his\nobject is no other than to set the seal of his authority on these\ntraditional beliefs? The whole analogy, not merely of the writings of\nSt. Paul, but of the entire New Testament, would lead us to suppose\nthat his object was not to reassert them, but to teach, through them,\na new and nobler lesson. The Jewish Rabbis would have spoken of the\nfirst and second Adam; but which of them would have made the\napplication of the figure to all mankind? A figure of speech it\nremains still, an allegory after the manner of that age and country,\nbut yet with no uncertain or ambiguous interpretation. It means that\n'God hath made of one blood all the nations of the earth'; that 'he\nhath concluded all under sin, that he may have mercy upon all'; that\nlife answers to death, the times before to the times after the\nrevelation of Jesus Christ. It means that we are one in a common\nsinful nature, which, even if it be not derived from the sin of Adam,\nexists as really as if it were. It means that we shall be made one in\nChrist by the grace of God, in a measure here, more fully and\nperfectly in another world. More than this it also means, and more\nthan language can express, but not the weak and beggarly elements of\nRabbinical tradition. We may not encumber St. Paul with the things\nwhich he 'destroyed.' What it means further is not to be attained by\ntheological distinctions, but by putting off the old man and putting\non the new man.\"--Vol. II. p. 166.\n\nOn surveying the picture of time and the history of humanity that lay\nbeneath St. Paul's eye, the question naturally arises, What is its\nsignificance and value for us? Manifestly not those of an absolute guide\nthrough the labyrinthine depths of the Divine counsels. \"We can scarcely\nimagine what would have been the feeling of St. Paul, could he have\nforeseen that later ages would look not to the faith of Abraham in the\nLaw, but to the Epistle to the Romans, as the highest authority on the\ndoctrine of justification by faith; or, that they would have regarded\nthe allegory of Hagar and Sarah, in the Galatians, as a difficulty to be\nresolved by the inspiration of the Apostle.\"[67] We cannot say of him\nless than Mr. Jowett says of a greater than Paul, that in many places\n\"his teaching is on a level with the modes of thought of his age.\" (I.\n97.) The ultimate point towards which all the lines of his expectations\nconverged, and all the history of the past appeared to gaze, we know to\nhave had no existence where he placed it; and as the whole scheme was\nlaid out to lead up to this, it might seem to disappear as the fabric of\na dream. Yet it is not so; and the very fear implies that we look in the\nwrong place for the permanent amid the evanescent in the Gospel.\nReligion--revealed or unrevealed--is no production of the systematizing\nintellect,--inspired or uninspired. The workings of constructive thought\nfollow, not lead it. Their function is not creative, but simply\nadaptive;--to find a settlement and orderly method of being and growing\nfor some new principle of divine life, or for some old principle in an\naltered scene; to ward off from it uncongenial elements, remove dead\nmatter that chokes it, and surround it with conditions whence it may\nweave its organism around it and send deep roots into the mellowed soil\nof humanity. Divine truth is the coming of God to man, pathless and\ntraceless: theologic thought is the retrogressive search of man after\nGod, not by \"_His_ ways which are past finding out,\" and invisible as\nnight, but necessarily by such tracks as the age has opened and another\nage may close or change.\n\nThe manifestation of supernatural realities to the human soul involves\nso much which is mysterious and unique, that only under great\nqualification can we compare it with the known mental processes. But\nwere we to conceive of it less by the analogy of scientific discovery,\nand more by that of artistic apprehension, many an embarrassment would\nbe saved. In a work of high art, you give a Phidias or a Raffaelle\n_his subject_; he necessarily takes it from that which stirs the heart\nof his time, and has a solemnity for his own and you do not find fault\nthat there is mythology in the group, or Mariolatry in the picture.\nThrough the conceptions of one time there speaks a feeling for all;\nand the representation may be immortal, when the thing represented has\nlong been historical. Nor is it that it only reflects honor on its\nauthor's name. It springs from an inner harmony with the very heart of\nthings, and it gives a new expressiveness to life and nature, and\nleaves behind a self-luminous spot in the world, where there was\n\"gross darkness\" before. Hence it looks into the eyes, and finds the\nsoul of one generation after another; and, amid the change of\nmaterials and the succession of schools, keeps alive the very sense by\nwhich alone \"materials\" can be wielded and \"schools\" exist. With just\nthe same result do the accidental and temporary media fall away from\nearly Christianity; disengaging a residuary spirit that takes up the\nlife of all times, touches a consciousness else unreached, and\nbreathes upon the face of things, till the meanings writ there with\ninvisible ink come into clearness before the eye. If it pleases God,\ninstead of spreading at our feet the things to be seen, rather to\nquicken our vision till we see them where they are, it is revelation\nall the same, only deeper and more various; not an incident of\nposition, but a power that can migrate in place and time, and read the\nProvidential perspective everywhere. This profounder insight into\ndivine relations it has been the especial office of St. Paul to\nawaken; and none the less that the flashes by which he gives it are\nincidental, and do not proceed from the Rabbinic lamp which he holds\nup to his apocalyptic pictures. Indeed, it is he, in great measure,\nthat has carried Christendom into regions other than his own. His\nthought is everywhere penetrated with an intense heat, leavened with\nlightning, that fuses the mass containing it, and runs off alive for\nother media to hold it. The revelation to him of Christ in heaven set\nin action all the resources of his nature, and gave them a\npreternatural tension. The sentiments which found satisfaction, the\nintimations which came into expression, in his form of doctrine, are\nnow for ever _human_, fixed in the self-knowledge of men by his\nfaithful words, and sure to transmigrate into other forms, when their\nfirst embodiment will hold them no more. And so much is the Apostle's\nlater exposition of his hope divested of what is special to himself,\nthat to all ages since it has struck upon the ear of mourners along\nwith the very toll of the funeral bell; and though often indistinct to\ntheir mind, it has jarred with no falsehood on their heart, but\nsounded like an anthem in the dark,--great music and dim words. It\nneeded only time and events to transmute the doctrine into that of a\nfuture life. For it included--in order to meet the case of those who\nhad \"fallen asleep\"--the conception of a path, through death before\nthe time, \"to depart and be with Christ\"; only that this was the minor\nprovision, the by-path of the early few. Reopened, however, as it\nalways was when a disciple passed away, it became an evermore familiar\ntrack; and experience had but to negative the opposite direction by\nleaving it untraced, in order that the upward track should become the\n_via sacra_ of human faith. And can any one doubt what the\njustification by faith means, when construed into the language of\nuniversal experience? It means that God wants more from us, and also\nless, than the anxious will can do; more, because he wants ourselves;\nless, because he does not want our niceties of work. It means that we\nare called to spiritual heights we strive in vain to climb; that the\nmost patient feet, step after step upon the ground, will but stand\nupon the earthly mountains after all; and it is the fiery chariot of\nlove and trust that must bear us into heaven. It means that there is\nan affectionateness in God that looks to what we are, rather than what\nwe do, and more readily speaks to us of communion than of obedience.\nTrue, this is but another way of saying what our religion elsewhere\nmore ethically expresses, that God requires our perfect service, and\nyet has forgiveness for what is imperfect. But this statement, though\nit means also that heaven is open to the pure, intent, and single\nheart, touches a spring less deep and strong. It divides the integral\nand living fact, even in regard to God, by describing it as a demand\nof the whole, and then a subtraction of a part; and so exhibiting it\nrather as a dissolution of justice, than as truth and wholeness of\nlove. And the Pauline doctrine appeals with far more immediate power\nto human consciousness, especially to that third of mankind whom a\nfervid enthusiastic mind renders little accessible to the cold\nsolemnities of duty. And, finally, if we are insensible to the\ngrandeur of St. Paul's teaching as to the universality of the Gospel,\nit is not more because it is entangled with the question of Jew and\nGentile, than because the sentiment has become the common atmosphere\nof Christendom, and we feel not its freshness, because it blows not on\nus as a breeze, but _only_ as our breath of life. Let Mr. Jowett\nremove from us the spell of our indifference.\n\n\"Let us turn aside for a moment to consider how great this thought was\nin that age and country; a thought which the wisest of men had never\nbefore uttered, which even at the present hour we imperfectly realize,\nwhich is still leavening the world, and shall do so until the whole is\nleavened, and the differences of races, of nations, of castes, of\nreligions, of languages, are fully done away. Nothing could seem a\nless natural or obvious lesson in the then state of the world; nothing\ncould be more at variance with experience, or more difficult to carry\nout into practice. Even to us it is hard to imagine that the islander\nof the South Seas, the pariah of India, the African in his worst\nestate, is equally with ourselves God's creature. But in the age of\nSt. Paul, how great must have been the difficulty of conceiving\nbarbarian and Scythian, bond and free,--all colors, forms, races, and\nlanguages,--alike and equal in the presence of God who made them! The\norigin of the human race was veiled in a deeper mystery to the ancient\nworld, and the lines which separated mankind were harder and stronger;\nyet the 'love of Christ constraining' bound together in its cords\nthose most separated by time or distance; those who were the types of\nthe most extreme differences of which the human race is capable.\n\n\"The thought of this brotherhood of all mankind, the great family on\nearth, not only implies that all men have certain rights and claims at\nour hands; it is also a thought of peace and comfort. First, it leads\nus to rest in God, not as selecting us because he had a favor unto us,\nbut as infinitely just to all mankind. To think of ourselves, or our\nChurch, or our age, as the particular exceptions of his mercy, is not\na thought of comfort, but of perplexity. Secondly, it links our\nfortunes with those of men in general, and gives us the same support\nin reference to our eternal destiny, that we receive from each other\nin a narrow sphere in the concerns of daily life. Thirdly, it relieves\nus from all anxiety about the condition of other men, of friends\ndeparted, of those ignorant of the Gospel, of those of a different\nform of faith from our own, knowing that God, who has thus far lifted\nup the veil, 'will justify the circumcision through faith, and the\nuncircumcision by faith'; the Jew who fulfils the law, and the Gentile\nwho does by nature the things contained in the law.\"--Vol. II. p. 126.\n\nWhat the doctrine of universality in the Divine government was to that\nage,--as new and transporting,--is in our own \"the clear perception of\nthe moral nature of God, and of his infinite truth and justice.\" This\nis one of the many deep sayings, sad and wise, quietly dropped by our\nauthor in a series of disquisitions, that show, among other things,\nhow well he understands its scope. Everywhere his care is to disengage\nChristianity from the theological conceptions fastened on it by a\ncoarser age; and, having restored the purity of its moral vision, to\nenlarge its horizon to the whole extent of modern knowledge and\nexperience. Penetrating beneath the figures natural to St. Paul, the\nvery changes of which show them to _be_ figures, he finds that nothing\ncan be more abhorrent from the Apostle's thought than the doctrine of\n\"satisfaction,\" which is hunted down, in every form, with exhaustive\nand indignant logic; that even the analogy of sacrifice \"rather shows\nus what the death of Christ was not, than what it was\"; and that to\ndraw us into union with Christ, to fix our eye on his pure\nself-renunciation as \"the greatest moral act ever done in this world,\"\nto keep us in a mood that harmonizes our trust in God with our\ndistrust of ourselves, and to suggest more than it can explain of hope\nand peace to a reconciled world, are the real functions, as of his\ndeath, so of all the stages of his existence. This pure type of faith\nemerges, we venture to affirm, without straining the rights of the\ninterpreter. The rest and freedom it gives to the mind is singularly\nevident in the fine essay on Natural Religion. The author sets forth\nfrom the Christian centre, and, consciously marking where he passes\nthe boundary of the apostolic view, surveys and brings to its\nreligious place the whole outlying realm of nature, history, and life,\nthat was unknown to Scripture, but is fact to us. The great Gentile\nreligions, now discriminated and interpreted, and ascertained to\nfollow certain laws of development; the breadth in philosophies, purer\nand brighter as history passed on; the Natural Religion, which is the\ncounterpart of these in Christian times, and holds its place by the\nside of revelation; and the ordinary state of character in morally\ngood but unspiritual persons, (state of \"nature\" rather than of\n\"grace,\")--are reviewed and estimated with a breadth of observation\nand a delicacy of reflection singularly impressive. Indeed, the\nliterature of religious philosophy affords few nobler productions than\nthis essay. With how true a hand and bright a touch is the following\npicture drawn! We will but hang it up in our reader's imagination, and\nleave him to commune with it alone.\n\n\"It is impossible not to observe that innumerable persons,--may we not\nsay the majority of mankind?--who have a belief in God and immortality,\nhave nevertheless hardly any consciousness of the peculiar doctrines of\nthe Gospel. They seem to live aloof from them in the routine of business\nor of pleasure, 'the common life of all men,' not without a sense of\nright, and a rule of truth and honesty, yet insensible to what our\nSaviour meant by taking up the cross and following him, or what St. Paul\nmeant by 'being one with Christ.' They die without any great fear or\nlively hope; to the last more interested about the least concerns of\nthis world than about the greatest of another. They have never in their\nwhole lives experienced the love of God, or the sense of sin, or the\nneed of forgiveness. Often they are remarkable for the purity of their\nmorals; many of them have strong and disinterested attachments, and\nquick human sympathies; sometimes a stoical feeling of uprightness, or a\npeculiar sensitiveness to dishonor. It would be a mistake to say they\nare without religion. They join in its public acts; they are offended at\nprofaneness or impiety; they are thankful for the blessings of life, and\ndo not rebel against its misfortunes. Such men meet us at every turn.\nThey are those whom we know and associate with; honest in their\ndealings, respectable in their lives, decent in their conversation. The\nScripture speaks to us of two classes, represented by the Church and the\nworld, the wheat and the tares, the sheep and the goats, the friends and\nenemies of God. We cannot say in which of the two divisions we should\nfind a place for them.\n\n\"The picture is a true one, and, if we change the light by which we look\nat it, may be a resemblance of ourselves no less than of other men.\nOthers will include most of us in the same circle in which we are\nincluding them. What shall we say to such a state, common as it is to\nboth us and them? The fact that we are considering is not the evil of\nthe world, but the neutrality of the world, the indifference of the\nworld, the inertness of the world. There are multitudes of men and women\neverywhere who have no peculiarly Christian feelings, to whom, except\nfor the indirect influence of Christian institutions, the fact that\nChrist died on the cross for their sins has made no difference; and who\nhave, nevertheless, the common sense of truth and right almost equally\nwith true Christians. You cannot say of them, 'There is none that doeth\ngood; no, not one.' The other tone of St. Paul is more suitable: 'When\nthe Gentiles that know not the law do by nature the things contained in\nthe law, these not knowing the law are a law unto themselves.' So of\nwhat we commonly term the world, as opposed to those who make a\nprofession of Christianity, we must not shrink from saying, 'When men of\nthe world do by nature whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things\nare lovely, whatsoever things are of good report, these, not being\nconscious of the grace of God, do by nature what can only be done by his\ngrace.' Why should we make them out worse than they are? We must cease\nto speak evil of them ere they will judge fairly of the characters of\nreligious men. That, with so little recognition of His personal relation\nto them, God has not cast them off, is a ground of hope rather than of\nfear,--of thankfulness, not of regret.\"--Vol. II. p. 416.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[58] Acts xviii. 24; xix. 7.\n\n[59] Acts vii. 44-49.\n\n[60] Acts viii. 1.\n\n[61] See especially the Notes on Paley's Hor\u00e6 Paulin\u00e6, Vol. I. pp.\n349, 252. We subjoin in this connection a just and striking remark of\nMr. Jowett's. In inquiries of this sort, it is often supposed that, if\nthe evidence of the genuineness of a single book of Scripture be\nweakened, or the credit of a single chapter shaken, a deep and\nirreparable injury is inflicted on Christian truth, and may afford a\nrest to the mind to consider that, if but one discourse of Christ, one\nEpistle of Paul, had come down to us, still more than half would have\nbeen preserved. Coleridge has remarked, that out of a single play of\nShakespeare the whole of English literature might be restored. Much\nmore true is it that in short portions or single verses of Scripture\nthe whole spirit of Christianity is contained. Vol. I. p. 352.\n\n[62] Was it in reference to this mere _family-title_ to a _spiritual_\nauthority that Paul says of the Jerusalem Apostles, \"Whatever they\nwere, it maketh no matter to me; God accepteth _no man's person_\"?\n(Gal. iii. 6.)\n\n[63] Ap. Euseb. Hist. Eccles. II. 23.\n\n[64] In proof of an essential unity of teaching, Mr. Jowett quotes\nPaul as declaring that what they preached against him was \"_not\nanother_\" gospel, \"for there was not, could not, be another.\" (I.\n340.) But far from bearing this conciliatory turn, which is out of\ncharacter with the whole context, Gal. i. 6 affirms that what his\nopponents have been preaching _is_ (1.) another gospel; and yet (2.)\n_not_ another gospel, (not so good even as that,) but mere disturbance\nand perversion, the negation of a gospel.\n\n[65] Compare also Rom. xiv. 10; Phil. i. 6; 2 Tim. iv. 1. Nay, the\nvery passage in which he renounces the \"knowing of Christ according to\nthe flesh,\" contains the doctrine (2 Cor. v. 10).\n\n[66] With a curious inconsistency Mr. Stanley fixes _at the Apostle's\nconversion_ the date after which he would no longer \"know Christ\naccording to the flesh\"; yet in the very next note declares, that this\nstate of mind must be referred to a more recent period than the\nconversion.\n\n\"\u03b1\u03c0\u03bf \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5 \u03bd\u03c5\u03bd, from _the time of my conversion_.\" It is to be presumed\nthat this is also Mr. Stanley's interpretation of the \u03bd\u03c5\u03bd \u03bf\u03c5\u03ba\u03b5\u03c4\u03b9 of\nthe next clause, which only repeats specifically of \"Christ\" what has\njust been said universally.\n\n\"\u03b5\u03b9 \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u03b5\u03b3\u03bd\u03c9\u03ba\u03b1\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1 \u03c3\u03b1\u03c1\u03ba\u03b1 \u03c7\u03c1\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd, even though I have known; granting\nthat I have known.\" \u03b3\u03b9\u03bd\u03c9\u03c3\u03ba\u03bf\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd, i. e. \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1 \u03c3\u03b1\u03c1\u03ba\u03b1, \"henceforth we know\nhim no longer.... The words lead us to infer that something of this kind\nhad once been [prior, surely, to the \"_henceforth_\"] his own state of\nmind, _not only_ in the time before his conversion, ... _but since_!\"\n\nHow then can the \"_henceforth_\" serve as the _terminus a quo_, if the\nsame state lies on both sides of it?\n\n[67] Jowett, II. 142.\n\n\n\n\nSIN: WHAT IT IS, WHAT IT IS NOT.\n\n    \"Now the end of the commandment is Charity, out of a pure heart, and\n    of a good conscience, and of faith unfeigned.\"--1 Timothy i. 5.\n\n\nThe Apostle gives us here a very simple formula of Christian perfection.\nHe was not fond of long lists of the virtues, such as the moral\nphilosophers draw up; and though he does sometimes pass through a\nseries, it is with a peculiar result. Look at any book upon human\nethics, and you are astonished at the number of qualities that go to\nmake up a good man: the ramifications of duty seem never to terminate:\nyou scarcely know how a soul like ours can hold so much: the further the\nauthor proceeds in his enumeration, the less does he seem able to\nstop,--his divisions breaking into subdivisions, and the subdivisions\nopening new varieties,--till life appears to pulverize itself under his\ndefinitions, and become an infinite complexity of moral detail. St.\nPaul's enumerations, on the contrary, instead of running down into\nmultitude, run up into unity; each term is apt to be larger than its\npredecessor; he seems impatient of scattering his exhortations, as if\neach had a business of its own, and rather forces them as he proceeds\ninto denser compression, till he flings out some term of power that\nholds them all. The graces with him do not present themselves apart,\nlike garden plants that may be tended and watered one by one; but all on\nthe same organism, as the leaves and the blossoms of a single shrub. He\nfelt that in reality the virtues do not add themselves up and subscribe\nto the final result of a holy soul: but the one simple soul lives\nitself out into the direction of all the virtues; and there is a certain\nmood, a temper, a climate of the soul, which grows everything beautiful\nat once, and without which, while one adornment is elaborately nursed,\nthe rest will be apt to droop and die. This blessed and productive mood,\nfelt to be _one thing_, ought to have _one name_: and the Apostle calls\nit _Charity_ or _Love_; and presents it sometimes as the greatest of\ngraces, sometimes as the unity of them all.\n\nBut this simple grace is to have a _triple source_. In the midst of the\ngarden of the Lord the Apostle plants but a solitary tree of life,--his\ndivine and fruitful Charity. Only it must be nursed by the threefold\nroot, of which should any part be wanting, the beauty of the form and\nthe healing of the leaves will soon be gone. \"Charity out of a pure\nheart,--and a good conscience,--and faith unfeigned.\" The Heart, the\nConscience, the Faith, must all be right; and it is no Pauline Charity\nthat is not sustained by concurrence of them all. And, observe _the\norder_. In the centre, striking its fibres deepest down into the\nsubstance of our world, is the _Conscience_, the _Moral_ element of\nlife; and on either side, held to their due balance by its intermediate\npower, we find the _Heart_,--the fresh _human affections_,--and the\nFaith,--the _heavenly trust and aspirations_,--of our nature. Tenderness\nand pity on the one hand, devotion and hope on the other, are to hold on\nto the sense of duty in the midst; and there only will a noble and\nmajestic Love arise, casting no baneful shade upon the earth, and in its\nbranches giving no shelter but to birds that sing the songs of heaven. A\ncharity, therefore, that flows _only_ from the genial heart, that looks\nwith kindly complacency on all things and persons, and with a sort of\nanimal sympathy licks every sore of humanity that lies at its\ngate;--this is not the \"end of the commandment\";--for it has in it no\nmoral, no religious element: it condemns nothing; it worships nothing:\nits eye neither flashes in rebuke, nor lifts itself in prayer: it is\nsensitive to suffering, not to sin: and, if it can but wipe out pain,\nwill do it even upon guilty terms, and charm away a God-sent remorse as\nfreely as it would an anguish of the innocent. And, on the other hand, a\ncharity that flows only from the sincerity of faith, and limits itself\nto the fellowship of belief; that feels perhaps _for_ many, but only\n_with_ a few; whose warmest sympathies are little else than a\npartnership of antipathies; that transfers to the infinite God the\nnarrowness of its own consecrated circle, reduces the universe to a\ntemple of orthodoxy, and turns the Heaven of Immortals into the\nMay-meeting of a sect;--this also misses \"the end of the commandment\":\nfor it abuses the true power of religion over life, and flings in the\nbranch of faith only to embitter, instead of sweeten, the waters of\nnatural affection; it blinds and bewilders the moral discernment,\noverlooks undeniable nobleness, and glorifies not a little meanness;\nand, applying its perverted admiration to the past as well as the\npresent, crowds the statue-gallery of history with ill-favored and\nquestionable saints, whose features have so grown to the mould and\npressure of a creed, that they look like casts of an abstract theology,\nmore than emblems of a living humanity. Take away the wisdom of\nConscience; and Charity, surrendered to mere affection, will fail to see\nsin where _it is_; or, constricted by Faith, will suppose it where _it\nis not_. Both errors will shape themselves into deliberate doctrines,\ndeviating on either side from the simple creed of our moral nature and\nof Christ. Let us look for a few moments at the central truth on this\nmatter; and then glance from it at the lateral heresies.\n\nThe central truth may be described under the phrase, _The Personal\nnature of sin_. In affirming this, I mean both that _each man is a\nperson, and not a thing_; and that _his sin is his own, and not\nanother's_. If there is anything within the compass of heaven and earth\nwhich we can be said to know from ourselves, and to have no need that\nanother should tell us, it is the nature of sin. There is no\narrogance,--there is only sorrowful confession,--in protesting that\n_this_ is a matter on which we cannot be mistaken. It is the nearest of\nall things to us; the shadow that follows us where we go, and stays\nwith us when we sit; the clinging presence that penetrates the very\nfolds of our nature, and is known only from within, where its fibres\nstrike and draw their nutriment. No external observer, though he have\nthe divination of a prophet or the glance of an archangel, can add one\niota to our insight into this sad fact, unless by sharpening our\nsensibility to feel and interpret it better for ourselves; or by any\ntestimony, any miracle, take one line away of the handwriting of God\nthat burns and flashes on the inner walls of the soul. Here at least our\napprehensions are first-hand; and to trust them, to cast out as Satan\nwhat tampers with them or contradicts them, is not scepticism, but\nfaith,--not infidelity, but faithfulness to the ever-living Word of God.\nWhat the finger of Heaven has written, neither the tapestries of ancient\ntheology nor the varnish of the newest philosophy can permanently hide;\nthe light is alive, and will eat through, clearing its everlasting\nwarning and consuming our perishable work.\n\nWhat then does this first and last revelation declare human sin to be?\nIn the moments when we know it best,--when we cover our face because we\ncan hide our transgression no more,--when we cannot bear the placid\nsilence of things, and cry in our agony, \"Smite us, O Lord, but tell us\nwhat we have done,\"--does He not answer us, \"You have abused your trust;\nI showed you a better, and you have taken the worse; I drew you by a\nsecret reverence to the nobler, and you have sunk by inclination to the\nbaser; I gave you a will in the image of my own, free to realize the\ngood, and you have yielded yourself captive to the evil; therefore have\nyou a burden now to bear, that none can lift off,--a burden which you\nwill feel it more faithful and wholesome to carry than to lose.\" This is\nsurely the tone in which the voice of God's Holy Spirit speaks to us\nwhen we have grieved it: and if we believe it not, I know not whither we\nshould go; it is the highest oracle of truth below the skies, having\nauthority more positive even than the eye that assures us of the sun\nabove us, and the feet that tell us of the earth beneath.\n\nAccording to this oracle, then, the essence of the sin lies in the\n_conscious free choice of the worse in presence of a better no less\npossible_. And to make us guilty in its commission three conditions\nare required;--(1.) Our mind must be solicited by at least two\ncompeting propensities; (2.) We must be aware that of these one is\nworthy and has a claim upon us, and the other not; (3.) It must be\nleft to us to determine ourselves to either of these, and we must not\nbe delivered over by foreign causes to the one or to the other. Take\naway any of these conditions, and guilt becomes impossible. If the\nmind has _not_ the option of two propensities, but is possessed of\nonly one, that single impulse, being its entire stock and constituting\nits only possibility, affords no scope for good or ill, and leaves the\nbeing a mere creature of instinct. Or if, while rival passions\nstruggle at his heart, he knows no difference among them, or only\nthis, that some are _pleasanter_ than others, then also he is\nblameless, though he takes only what he likes. If, finally, while he\nis drawn by conflicting tendencies and taught to regard _some_ as his\ntemptations, and solemnly set in the midst to choose, the whole\nappearance of option turns out a semblance and a pretence, and the\nmatter is long ago determined outside of him and now only performs the\nceremony of _passing through_ him,--then, as before, he is\nirreproachable: the strife within him is the illusion of mimic\npassions wrestling for a dreamer's soul; and while the tragic agony\ngoes on within,--a dance of fiends, a rescue of angels,--he is\nstretched all the while sleeping on the bed of nature, and cannot wake\nbut to find remorse and responsibility a dream.\n\nAccordingly, whenever we want to make excuse for our wrong-doing, the\nfalse plea takes the form of a denial of one of these conditions.\n\"Blame me not,\" we say, \"for _I knew of no other_ course\"; or, \"I did\nnot _think it signified_ which I did\"; or, \"I saw it all, but _I could\nnot help it_.\" Often the gnawings of self-reproach are felt upon the\nheart at the very instant that these excuses escape the lips. But\nsometimes they are the suggestions of _sincere_ self-deception, and\nproceed from men who are their own dupes; and whenever this is the\ncase, the sense of responsibility is entirely dissipated; remorse is\nextinguished; the confession of guilt is turned into complaint of a\nmisfortune; and the offender considers himself rather as the injured\nof nature than the insurgent against God. These excuses then must be\nwholly excluded, if the sanctity of the moral life is to be preserved.\nThey are the various forms under which the personal nature of sin may\nbe denied. They all assert that the _person_ either did not contain\nwithin him the requisite conditions, or was hemmed in by natural\npreventives, of true obligation. Whoever offers us such pleas is\njustly regarded as self-condemned, and indeed as presenting a sadder\nspectacle in his defence than in his transgression. Nor are they\nimproved in their character when they are expanded from excuses of\nindividuals into doctrines of churches; for they explain away the\nessence of sin, and leave us without intelligible faith in anything\nholy in heaven or on earth. Thus:--\n\nWhoever maintains that the human heart is invariably wicked, and can\nthink no thought and prompt no act, except such as are odious to God,\nmistakes the whole nature of moral obligation, and virtually excludes\nit from the entire system of things. Confront this assertion with the\nfacts of life, and ask what it really means. Do you mean, I would say\nto its defender, that, whenever two principles contend for the mastery\nin a man's mind, he always abandons himself to the lower?--that no\none, in short, was ever known to resist a temptation? Such a position\nis surely too bold for the paradox of cynicism itself, in a world\nwhere there are many in want that do not steal, and in suffering that\ndo not complain; where a Pericles could administer the revenues of a\nstate, yet die without having added to his little patrimony; and a\nSocrates could live pure amid corruption, and truthful amid lies, and\ndie the martyr of injustice rather than offend his reverence for law;\nwhere not a school nor a family can be found that has not its annals\nand anecdotes of conscience. You allow, therefore, that victors there\nhave been in many a temptation. Did it make then no difference to the\nsentiments of God respecting them whether they were victors or\nvanquished? Was it neutral to him whether they nobly held their post,\nor basely betrayed it? Then you simply deny the holiness of God; for\nyou allow the greatest contrasts of character on earth, with no\nresponsive feeling, no variety of estimate, in heaven; and make our\nhuman discernment, our natural admirations, more susceptible as moral\nbarometers than the Omniscient Perception. Or will you say that,\nalthough men differ in moral effort, and withstand temptation in\nvarious degrees, and the Infinite Eye sees through the whole history\nwith unerring exactitude, yet the entire scale of human character lies\nbelow the point of Divine acceptableness, and in the view of perfect\npurity is equivalent to mere variety of guilt? Then do you deny again,\nonly with a change of form, the personal nature of sin; for you try\nthe soul by the law of _another_ nature, and not her own,--by a law\nbeyond her ken or beyond her power; and while she is striving to be\nfaithful to her best thought against the seductions of the worse,--in\nwhich alone the essence of all goodness dwells,--you tell her that her\nGod despises a conflict so far down, and that \"this people that\nknoweth not his law,\" however true to their own, \"is cursed.\" What is\nthis but to make Moral Excellence something quite different in heaven\nand on earth?--not veracity, not justice, not purity of thought, not\nself-sacrificing love; nothing that here makes our hearts burn within\nus as we look at the dear face of long-tried friends or saintly\nstrangers, or leaving the Jerusalem of the noisy present pace the\nquiet road of history, talking by the way with the saviours of nations\nand the prophets of a world;--not this, but some hidden charm that\nfinds neither place nor answer in our souls; so that the God who loves\nit leaves us herein without a point of sympathy with him, or a\npossibility of approach. In that case, he is a Being without moral\nperfection; for, however you may apply to him a circle of holy\n_names_, the things you denote by them are a set of unknown quantities\nbearing no relation to our types of thought. Or, finally, do you\nallege that the distinctions of character are not entirely different\nin heaven and on earth; only that through all their varieties in the\nnatural man there is interfused a certain invariable taint, an\nirremovable tinge of guilt,--a stain of _self_, a thought of _pride_,\na want of _faith_? Even were it so, still, if this be the constant\ncoloring of the soul, pervading it by nature and not personally\nincurred, it is but a sad condition under which it is given us to work\nout our problem, and not any unfaithfulness in dealing with it as it\ncomes: it is an inherent incapacity, which, however unlike the beauty\nof God's holiness, he can no more regard with penal disapproval, than\nhe can hate the deformed or persecute the blind.\n\nAgain, whoever teaches that men are, through and through, the\ncreatures of circumstance, with no more voice as to their character\nthan as to their birth, but are the predestined products of nature,\nworking partly within them and partly without,--no less surely insults\nall moral convictions, and denies the reality of duty. For he\nabolishes entirely the distinction between a person and a thing; and\nconceives of every man as a mere _growth_ or _development_ from the\nphysiology of the universe, no more responsible for his place in the\nscale of excellence, than the plant which, according to its seed and\nsoil, becomes the hyssop of the wall, the lily of the field, or the\nstately cedar of Lebanon. All moral ideas vanish instantly at the\ntouch of this doctrine; and the solemn language on which Law and\nConscience have stamped their venerable impress, and ruled among the\nnations \"by the grace of God,\" is defaced in the revolutionary mint of\nfatalism, and made current with the superscription of a pretended\nequality where all are low, and liberty where none is free. It is\nquite clear, that, if the soul has no originating causality, but in\nevery step she takes is simply _disposed of_ and bespoken by agencies\nprovided and set in train, without any question asked of her, she can\nhave no _duties_, she can win no _deserts_; she can incur no _guilt_,\nmerit no _punishment_; she is deluded in her _remorse_, and suffers a\nvain torture in esteeming herself an _alien from God_. All that\nremains is this: that by natural laws there may be pain consequent,\nand known to be consequent, on some of the directions which we may\ntake; and it is at our peril that we enter on these paths. But so is\nit at our peril if we go up in a balloon, or put to sea in a small\nboat to save a drowning crew. You can get nothing out of this\nconsideration but more or less of _Prudence_; hope of happiness, fear\nof suffering, can consecrate nothing as a _Duty_, but only present it\nas _interest_; and if a man chooses to disregard his interest and risk\nthe result, I know not who, in heaven or earth, can tell him with\nauthority that he has no right to do it, or can say more to him than\nthat he is a fool in his folly. Who on these terms could cast himself,\nin tears of penitence, upon the bosom of Infinite Mercy, and sob out\nhis prayer that he might be reconciled to God? Who would ever tremble\nbeneath the lash of a fiery reproach, and own, as it quivered over\nhim, that there was justice in the terror of its look? Rather must the\nsinner feel himself the victim of a cruel doom; whom it is as little\nsuitable to punish, as to chastise the patient in fever, or torture\nthe cripple in the street. A doctrine which reduces duty to interest,\nretribution to discipline, guilt to disease, holiness to symmetry and\ngood health, and God to the neutral source of all things good and\nill;--which frightens us with fears we may defy, but awes us with no\nauthority we can revere; which pities iniquity and smiles on goodness,\nbut only in order to patronize enjoyment;--whose faith in human nature\nis a reliance on the ultimate docility of the wild animal man; and\nwhose worship of God is taken, like a morning walk, for the sake of\nexercise;--is so alien from the whole spirit of religion, and such an\naffront to the first instincts of conscience, that it can only escape\nindignant condemnation by withdrawing altogether into the sphere of\nnatural history, and quitting as a foreign province the domain--whose\nlanguage it corrupts--of Morals and of Faith.\n\nFinally, those who teach that guilt and merit, with their penalties\nand rewards, can be transferred, deny in the directest way the\npersonal nature of Sin. That men should find a foreign _remedy_ for\ntheir perpetrated wickedness, is not less shocking than that they\nshould trace it to a foreign _source_. If they know what it is at all,\nthey feel it to be inalienably their own; which none could give them\nand which none can take away. And nothing is more amazing than that\ngood Christians, who seem truly cast down in humiliation, oppressed\nwith the sense of their short-comings, penetrated with the sadness of\nbaffled aspiration,--and who therefore, one would think, must really\nhave a consciousness of the personality of sin, and know how it is\nchargeable only on their individual will,--can yet obtain relief by\nflying, as it is said, to the cross, and persuading themselves that\nthe evil has been stayed and cured by transactions wholly outside\nthemselves, and belonging to the history of another being. What can\npossibly be meant by the statement that Christ has borne the\npunishment, some eighteen hundred years ago, of your sins and\nmine,--of people non-existent then, and therefore non-sinful? Can the\npunishment precede the sin? Can it be inflicted and gone through\nbefore it is even determined whether the sin will be perpetrated at\nall? Or can merely _potential_ sin, which may never become actual, be\ndealt with at ages distant, and its accounts be settled ere it arise?\nIf so, what is the death of Christ but the provisory accumulation of a\nfund beforehand, ready to be drawn upon as the everlasting \"treasure\nof the Church,\" for the free discharge of guilty debts and the release\nof divine obligations? And in what respect does this differ from the\nRoman Catholic doctrine,--except that the treasure is at the\ndiscretion of no chartered sacerdotal company, but is open on more\npopular and looser terms?\n\nMoral relations, by their very nature, exclude all vicarious agency;\nyou cannot fall, you cannot recover, by deputy: the ill that haunts\nyou is the insult you have put on the divine spirit in your heart, and\nit is as if you were alone with God. An interposing medium can as\nlittle divert the retribution, as it can intercept the complacency of\nthe Infinite and Holy Mind. What more fearful charge could you bring\nagainst any government, than to say that its penalties may be bought\noff? A judge who accepts the voluntary sufferings of innocence in\nacquittance of the liabilities of guilt, shocks every sentiment of\njustice, and does that which the worst judicial caprice would never\ndare to imitate. A law that does not care whether the right persons\nfeel its retribution, provided it gets an equivalent suffering\nelsewhere, is an affront to the most elementary notions of right. And\nan offender who can welcome his escape by such device, permits his\nmoral perceptions to be blinded by personal gratitude, and is content\nto profit by a transaction which it would fill him with remorse to\nrepeat upon his own children.\n\nA Mediator may do much indeed to reconcile my alienated mind to God.\nHe may personally rise before me with a purity and greatness so unique\nas to give me faith in diviner things than I had known before, and by\nhis higher image turn my eye towards the Highest of all. He may show\nme how, in the sublimest natures, sanctity and tenderness ever blend,\nand so touch the springs of inward reverence that, in my returning\nsympathy with goodness, all abject and deterring fears are swept away.\nHe may direct upon me, from the hall of trial or the cross of\nself-sacrifice, the loving look that prostrates the impulses of\npassion and the power of self, and awakens the repentant enthusiasm of\nnobler affections. He may renew my future; but he cannot change my\npast. He may sprinkle my immediate soul with the wave of regeneration;\nbut he cannot drown the deeds that are gone. From _present sinfulness_\nhe may recover me; but the _perpetrated sins_--though he be God\nhimself in power, unless he be other than God in holiness--he cannot\nredeem. These have become realized facts; and none can cut off the\nentail of their consequences: whatever the Divine Law has avowedly\nannexed to them will develop itself from them with infallible\ncertainty. The outward sufferings by which God has stamped into the\nnature of things his disapprobation of sin, and made it grievous here\nand hereafter, stand irrevocably fast, clinging to guilt as shadow to\nbody, as effect to cause. This debt of natural penalty is one which\nmust be paid to the utmost farthing; by penitent and impenitent, by\nthe reconciled and the unreconciled alike: miracle cannot cancel, nor\nmediator discharge it. In this sense,--of rescue from the penal laws\nof God,--I know of no remission of sins; nor would Christians have\nretained so heathenish a notion, had they not frightfully exaggerated,\nin the first instance, the retributions of God by making them an\n_eternal vengeance_; and so created a necessity for again rescinding\nthe fierce enactments of their fancy, that hope and return might not\nbe quite shut out. It is only in man, however, and not in God, thus to\ndo and undo. His word, whether of warning or of promise, is Yea and\nAmen; and his great realities will march serenely on, and, heedless of\nour passionate deprecations and fictitious triumphs, rebuke our\nunbelief of their veracity.\n\nBut while the past can never be as though it were not, the present may\nlie in the shelter of reconciliation, and the future in the light of\nboundless hope. The outer burden we have incurred we may still have to\nbear; but once brought by Divine conversion to an inner sympathy with\nGod, and seeing by his light rather than our own, we can suffer our\nwounds with a patient shame, and scarcely feel their anguish more. The\naverted face of the Infinite has turned round upon us again; and the\npure eyes look into us with a mild and loving gaze, which we can meet\nwith answering glance, and feel that we are at one with the universe\nand reconciled with God.\n\n\n\n\nPEACE IN DIVISION: THE DUTIES OF CHRISTIANS IN AN AGE OF CONTROVERSY.\n\n    \"Suppose ye that I am come to give peace on earth? I tell you,\n    nay, but rather division.\"--Luke xii. 51.\n\n\nSuch was the account which the Saviour himself gave of a religion whose\npromise was hailed by angels as an occasion, not only of \"glory to God\nin the highest,\" but of \"peace on earth, and good-will to men.\" The\ncontradiction between the two passages is so obviously merely of a\nverbal nature, that it can perplex only the blind interpreter who\npenetrates no further than the letter of the sacred volume. I should\nonly be giving utterance to your own spontaneous reflections, my\nfriends, were I to tell you that my text speaks, not of the design, but\nof the consequence, of the dissemination of the Gospel; and that it\nindicates no more than a prophetic knowledge on the part of Christ of\nthe diversities of sentiment and feeling which would spring from the\ndiffusion of his religion. This prophetic knowledge, however, it does\nclearly indicate; and this is a fact of no mean importance. The\nunbeliever objects to Christianity, and the Roman Catholic to\nProtestantism, the endless catalogue of discordant opinions which have\nresulted from their prevalence; and to both we are furnished with one\nreply. This infinite diversity indicates no failure in our system; it is\nnot an unexpected effect which startles and alarms us; it was foreseen\nby the Author of our religion, and announced by him as the necessary\nconsequence of the genuine preaching of his Apostles. And though he had\nthis evil (if such it be) full in view, he did not retreat from the\noffice he had assumed, nor feel it at variance with his deep and tender\nphilanthropy, to implant among mankind a faith that should break up\ntheir united mass into a thousand repulsive groups.\n\nHe must then have known that his Gospel would carry with it blessings\nwhich this seeming disadvantage would not cancel,--blessings far\nsurpassing the evils of division,--a peace which no jarrings of\ncontroversy could disturb,--a good-will that could triumph over the\nalienations of party. Were it my object, it would be easy to show that\nthe distribution of the Christian world into sects has achieved\nincalculably more good than it has inflicted injury; that the rudest\nconflicts of a militant theology are preferable to the hollow peace of\nuniversal thraldom; that the fluctuating surface of human opinion,\nwith all its restless lights, is a fairer object than its dark and\nleaden stagnation; that discussion multiplies the chances of truth,\ndiffuses the thirst for knowledge, leads forth reason from the mist,\nconverts prejudice into conviction, and gives to a dead faith a moral\nand operative power. It would be easy to show that our religion,\nespecially since it has issued from the cloister into the light of\nday, has accomplished a vast amount of good, with which no controversy\nhas been able to interfere; that it has imparted nobler sentiments of\nduty, given to conscience a more majestic voice, raised the depressed\nportions of society; that it has enabled moral refinement to keep pace\nwith the intellectual advancement of mankind; that it has given\nmodesty to the sublimest exercise of reason, by erecting towering and\neternal truths beyond whose shadow reason cannot fly. It would be easy\nto anticipate the time when the benign principles of Christianity\nshall mellow down the ruggedness of party feeling, and extract the\nlingering selfishness that poisons discussion with its bitterness;\nwhen the unrestricted and disinterested love of truth shall no longer\nbe an empty fiction; when the differences between mind and mind will\nbe but so many converging paths by which mankind, with one heart and\none speed, hasten to the same goal of certainty. But it is not my\nobject to insist on the advantages of controversy, or to predict its\nfuture triumphs; but rather to warn against some of its dangers, and\nto suggest a few thoughts which may throw light on the duties of\nChristians in an age so controversial as ours. To me, reflecting on\nthe principles of the Association at whose anniversary I speak, no\ntopic seems more appropriate. Our grand uniting principle is, the\nrejection of all creeds and human formularies of faith, and a simple\nadherence to the sacred volume, as being \"able,\" without comment or\ninterpretation, \"to make wise unto salvation.\" We think confessions\nenough have been tried, and been found wanting; that every such\nattempt to produce uniformity is utterly chimerical, and an impotent\nrebellion against the laws of the human mind. Believing then that\nunanimity is one of the weakest dreams of the visionary and the\nfanatic, we expect to see diversity of sentiment among Christians; we\ncannot be surprised, and ought not to be displeased, to see the\nreligious world full of the activity of discussion. But since we agree\nto abandon mankind to their divergencies of opinion, it is peculiarly\nincumbent on us to consider what new moral aspect society assumes,\nwhen distributed into differing denominations, and what new duties\narise in an age of doctrinal debate.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nI. It is the duty of Christians to remember how many are their points\nof union.\n\nIs our religion, my friends, a matter of the intellect only,--a mere\nmine of inexhaustible speculation? I grant that it is in perfect\nunison with the dictates of enlightened reason, and that it\nadministers the noblest stimulus and worthiest employment to the\nfaculties of the mind. But are not its ultimate dealings with the\naffections? Does it not present to us new objects of love, new scenes\nof hope, a new system of desires? Does it not unlock the springs of\nhuman feeling, and pour the full tide of emotion upon the soul? What\nelse can so melt in penitence, so solemnize with awe, so prostrate in\nfear, so enkindle with joy? What else can impart such majestic power\nto human will to trample in the dust peril and anguish and\ntemptation, to conquer the solicitations of self-love, and pursue with\nmeek inflexibility deserted and solitary ways of duty? For the\ngreatest triumphs of our faith we must go where it is matched with the\npassions of the heart, the impulses of unregulated nature, and see how\nit prunes their exuberance, enriches their sterility, purifies their\npollutions, expands their littleness, refines their ruggedness. Now\nthese influences are common to every form of Christianity; its appeals\nto the affections are not uttered in the vocabulary of sectarianism,\nbut in the universal language of the human heart. Some may prefer to\ndeck the form of our religion in the gorgeous colors of an imposing\nritual; some may throw round it the ample folds of mystery; others may\nlove rather the grace of its primitive simplicity; but beneath all\nthese varieties the same living figure breathes, the same radiant\nfeatures smile. Where is the system of Christianity that does not\npresent to our affections an Infinite Being, who has shadowed forth\nhis invisible glories in the splendors of the universe, who rolls the\nsilent wheels of time, whose presence, felt in other worlds, is\nsecretly shed around each human home, who traces the tear of grief and\nlights up the smile of peace, who has an eye on every heart, and\ncarries on his parental discipline in scenes beyond our vision and\nwithout an end? Where is the system of Christianity which does not\nlead us to the Saviour as the image of the invisible God, as the\nbright reflection of his character, and the noblest assurance of his\nlove,--which does not trace to Jesus innumerable moral blessings, and\ncall us to reverence him for guidance amid the intricacies of duty,\nfor light in the chamber of grief, for power of endurance amid the\nstruggles of suffering nature, and prospects of attractive grandeur\nbeyond the grave? Where is the system of Christianity which does not\ncast upon this state the shadow of an eternal tribunal,--which does\nnot associate with sin the horrors of the outer darkness, and impart\nan infinite value to every pure tendency of the soul, by inviting\nvirtue to a never-ending progression replete with ineffable joy? What\nChristian has not enshrined in his memory and his admiration the most\nbeautiful and touching portions of the volume of our faith? Is there\na Christian parent that can read the invitation of the benevolent\nJesus, \"Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid them not,\"\nwithout a heart of love to the Heavenly Teacher, without a purified\nconception of that kingdom which infantine docility alone can enter,\nwithout an uplifting of prayer that no rude world may ever brush from\nthe mind of his child the morning dews of his innocence? Is there a\nChristian sister that has not blessed the Divine Teacher, who, himself\ntouched by the sorrows that he quelled, restored the lost Lazarus to\nhis weeping and defenceless home? Is there a Christian mother who has\nnot lingered with the bereaved Mary around the cross, wondered at her\nawful sorrows, and thought how in the watches of the night memory\nwould bring back upon her ear that last appeal, \"Woman, behold thy\nson\"? The tears which flow at passages like these, the admiration with\nwhich they burden the heart, the images of moral loveliness with which\nthey fill the imagination, are not the exclusive possession of any\nsect; they are the unrestricted boon of God to the human soul. In\nprivate, then, we all ponder the same book, gather from it the same\nrefreshing influence, the same impressions of duty, the same impulses\nto prayer. And on our Christian Sabbath, while we tread the threshold\nof differing temples, are they not all dedicated to Him \"who dwelleth\nnot in temples made with hands,\" and regardeth not their trivial\ndistinctions? While the worshipping multitudes utter a various\nlanguage and ill-harmonizing thoughts, are they not addressing a Being\nto whom language is but a breath, and human thought but like an\ninfant's dream, and who looks only to that heart of love that animates\nthem both? It is an exhilarating thought, that though on that sacred\nday Christians may be separated by land and seas, gathered around\nmyriads of sanctuaries, and speaking in a thousand tongues, their\npraises blend like kindred fires as they rise, and burst into the\ncourts of God, one brilliant flame of incense from the universal\nshrine of the human heart.\n\nThese, my fellow-Christians, are thoughts which we should cherish, to\nconvince us how much, amid all our diversities, we have in common; to\nshow us that the best, the living portion of our faith, is others' as\nwell as our own; and to soften those strange animosities that embitter\nour weak tempers, and enfeeble the heavenly ties that encircle the\nwhole family of God. If there be any truth in the remark of a\nphilosopher, that the essence of friendship is to have the same\ndesires and aversions, how much ground have all Christians for mutual\nlove! Widely as their speculations may diverge, the great concern of\nall is with God, the Infinite Father; with Christ, the commissioned\nprophet, the merciful redeemer, the inspired teacher, the perfect\nmodel, the heavenly guide; with eternity, the seat of our deepest and\nmost permanent interests, the receptacle of our lost friends, the\ngrave of virtuous sorrow, the home of the tossed and faithful spirit.\nNo one can live habitually under the influence of these grand and\naffecting objects, and turn from them to condescend to the littleness\nof a polemical temper. They will impart their own greatness to his\nsoul, and give him that best of powers,--the power over himself. Such\na one may use the pen of controversy without fear.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nII. But I confess that the contemplation of these points of union\nwould impart little peace to our minds, or serenity to our tempers, if\nat the same time we believed that the differences of our faith would\nfollow us into the eternal future, and determine our condition there.\nI therefore observe, in the second place, that, amid all our\ncontroversies, it is of moment that we should remember the moral\ninnocence of mental error. This principle, my friends, seems to me to\nbe intimately connected with our right of private judgment. We might\nclaim for men the privilege of free investigation, and affix no\ntemporal rewards or punishments to any system; yet this would be but a\nworthless boon, if we upheld over any creed the penal menace of\neternity. We should thus only transfer the bribe from men's interests\nto their fears; we should push our exclusion from earth, only to give\nit a vaster theatre in heaven. As many Christians, not otherwise\ndisposed to be narrow in their spirit, have some lingering doubts\nrespecting this primary principle of Christian charity, suffer me to\nsay a few words with a view to establish the perfect innocence of\nmental error. The exclusionist rests the burden of his argument on one\ntext, which, unhappily for Christian love, has been left somewhat\nelliptical in its expression. \"He that believeth and is baptized,\nshall be saved; he that believeth not, shall be damned.\" Believeth\nwhat? Transubstantiation, says the Catholic; miraculous conversion,\nsays the Wesleyan; the vicarious atonement, replies the Calvinist; the\nTrinity, says the Athanasian Creed. Every one has an anathema for the\nopponent of his favorite tenet; and the still, small voice of charity\nis swept away by the conflicting winds of controversy, and dies\nunheard. Let us see whether our Heavenly Father will not permit us to\nopen those gates of mercy which others have so sternly closed.\n\nIt is not necessary for our present purpose to inquire what are the\nsalvation and condemnation of which the passage in question speaks. It\nmay be conceded without injury to our argument, that they have\nreference to the destinies of a future world. Every reader of\nScripture will acknowledge that the unbelief which our Saviour\nmenaces, is unbelief in his Gospel, as preached by his Apostles, and\nconfirmed by visible miracles;--it is a rejection of Christianity.\nFrom this it would seem clear, that no form under which the religion\nof Christ is professed, however erroneous it may be, can be comprised\nwithin the sentence of condemnation. But the argument of the\nexclusionist is this:--My own system is, in my view, the only one that\nis identical with the Gospel; therefore I must believe that those who\nreject my system are exposed to the penalties annexed to the rejection\nof the Gospel. It is surprising that so many should fail to detect the\nfallacy of this reasoning. Compare the case which our Saviour is\nsupposing with that of the man who, in preferring one profession of\nChristianity, rejects all others; and you will find that there are two\nmost momentous points of distinction,--the motive of the rejecter is\ndifferent, and the thing rejected is different.\n\nWhat can be more obvious, than that our Saviour refers to the hearer's\n_intentional_ rejection of the Gospel,--a rejection of _his own_\nChristianity, not of his neighbor's. When punishment is held forth as\nthe consequence of any act, is it not always implied that the act must\nbe intentional? Is it not an understood principle of every law, human\nand divine, that a deed of accident and inadvertence is exempted from\nthe penalties which, were it designed, it would deserve? To condemn\nfor murder the man who through mistake should administer a poisonous\ndraught for a restorative, would be as just as to put the erring\nbeliever and the wilful unbeliever on the same level. To charge this\nenormous immorality on God, would be the height of impiety. Widely as\nthe professing Christian may err, remote as his faith may be from the\ntruth as it is in Jesus, his intent is to believe; he yields his\nassent, no less heartily than his wiser brother, to the evidence which\nGod has placed before him; he only mistakes what it is which that\nevidence proves; he reverences, no less than others, the authority\nwhich Jesus claims; but he does not discern all the truths which that\nauthority establishes. Strange would it be, brethren, if God, who in\nall other cases looketh at the heart, should in this look at the\nunderstanding only.\n\nBut perhaps it will be urged that the same perversion of mind which\nJesus condemns is displayed by the modern inquirer, who does not\ndiscern in the Gospel the great essentials of Christianity; that his\ndisbelief in them, in short, is not wholly involuntary. A few words to\nthis objection.\n\nI admit that faith is a compound result of the will and the\nunderstanding; connected indeed most obviously with the latter, but\ndetermined more remotely by causes having their seat in the former. In\nthe process of investigation, the last step, of weighing arguments and\nmaking up the mind, is undoubtedly involuntary. When the evidence is\nonce placed before the inquirer, no energy of will can repel the\nconclusion which is forced upon the judgment. When, however, we\nperceive that the very same reasoning produces different results on\ndifferent persons, that one man is forcibly impressed by an argument\nwhich to another appears weak and worthless, it becomes necessary to\naccount for these varieties in the effects of evidence. And there can\nbe no doubt that the perception of truth is very materially influenced\nby the moral condition of the mind. How powerful are the arguments in\nfavor of the Gospel derived from the moral beauty and symmetry of the\nsystem, from the originality and loftiness of our Saviour's character,\nfrom the adaptation of his religion to the wants of the human mind\nunder all its countless varieties! And yet this species of evidence\nwill be wholly without effect on those whose minds are destitute of\nmoral sensibility and refinement. Moreover, it is notorious that the\nsanguine are always apt to believe what they hope, the timid what they\nfear; and the hopes and fears of conscience will exert this influence\non belief no less than any other. Prejudice which might be conquered,\nindolence which ought to be shaken off, passions which blind and\ncorrupt the judgment, uneasy conscience which alienates the desires\nfrom God, all these may exercise a powerful moral sway over the faith;\nand for the influence of these every man is certainly accountable.\n\nBut at the same time there is no reason to doubt that God has created\nus with intellectual differences which are wholly involuntary, and\nwhich must tend to fix the determinations of the judgment. There are\nsome men who, from their earliest years, seem incapable of admitting a\ntruth without double the evidence with which others would be\nsatisfied. Who then among us is to determine what mind is most\ncorrectly strung? Is the man who admits a proposition on one degree of\nevidence to condemn his brother who requires two? And is it credible\nthat God will accept of none but him whom he has himself placed at the\nonly true point in the gradation? Impossible! As well might we say\nthat his heaven is closed against the insane or the deformed.\n\nIt appears then, my friends, that belief flows from causes partly\nmoral, partly intellectual. But can any human eye, I ask, discern in\nwhat proportion they are mingled in any one's faith? Dare you say of\nyour differing brother, that he differs from a prevailing depravity of\nheart, and not from constitutional causes? If not, then is there no\nhuman tribunal to which opinion may be called. We are not forbidden to\nlove any fellow-creature, however remote his views from ours. As we\nare unable to discover how far diversities of sentiment flow from the\nwill, we are bound to treat them all as if they were entirely\ninvoluntary, and to leave to the Searcher of hearts the award of\napprobation or displeasure.\n\nAgain, the faith rejected in the case which our Lord condemns, is not\nthe same that is renounced by the erring Christian. What is the\nChristianity, the disbelief of which is pronounced by Jesus to be so\ndangerous? Is it the Christianity of Luther, of Calvin, of Arius, of\nWesley? No, but the Christianity of the Apostles, which they were \"to\npreach to every creature.\" Now in _this_ all professing Christians\nbelieve; and from it they derive those views which, when once severed\nfrom their origin and entering the province of human reason, so\nrapidly diverge from each other. It is in vain to urge that _all_\nthese systems, contradictory as they are, cannot coincide with\nrevelation; and that there must, therefore, be some that do not\nconstitute Christianity. The Gospel itself, considered as a\nrevelation, bears the same relation to all the rival creeds whose\ncredit hangs on its authority; like the beam of the balance, which\ndetermines the scale neither way. Let me not be mistaken, my friends.\nI mean not to say that all systems of Christian faith are equally\ntrue, or equally accordant with the sacred writings; but that their\nrelative truth is undetermined by the authority of revelation, and\ndependent on the correctness of the reasoning by which they are\ndeduced from Scripture. All begin with reverencing the Gospel; and\nthis screens them from our Saviour's condemnation. They then employ\nthemselves in reasoning on the sacred writings that lie before them;\nand if they then separate from each other, it is through the same\nfallibility of mind which multiplies opinions on other subjects, and\nfor which assuredly God will bring no man into judgment. The various\nsystems of Christian faith are but the diverging streams which flow\nfrom the fountain of living waters: some may take a straighter, others\na more devious way; some may receive a scantier, others a more copious\nadmixture from a different source; some may roll over a purer, others\nover a fouler bed; but _all_ contain the healing current which gushed\nfrom the smitten rock, and all, I doubt not, are bearing onwards to\nmeet at last in the ocean of eternal rest.\n\nWhy then, my brethren, must we be handling terrors which it is not\nours to distribute, and sending forth into the dark these fearful\nguesses at judgment? Why must our feeble hand be playing with the\nlightning, and letting loose the hurricane? Rather let us imitate God.\nDoes he brand the heretic with his curse? Does he pour the elements in\nfury around his dwelling? Does he set a mark on him, that any one\nfinding him may slay him? See, the sunshine still smiles upon his\nroof; the shower still refreshes his field; the charities and hopes of\nlife are still poured upon his heart. And cannot we cheer with our\nhuman love the creature whom our Father disdaineth not to bless? Are\nwe so sinless as to stand apart in our holiness from the being with\nwhom the Majesty of heaven can condescend to dwell, whom Infinite\nPurity stoops to cherish? At least let us wait for the disclosure of\nthose secret counsels which we dare to scan. It will be time enough to\nhate when God condemns, to shun when God driveth away. Be assured, my\nbrethren, no soul ever perished for too much charity. \"Be ye therefore\nperfect, as your Father in heaven is perfect.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIII. It is the duty of every Christian in an age of controversy to make\nan open, undisguised statement of his opinions, and of the evidence\nwhich satisfies him of their truth. How seldom do you see that union of\ncourage and charity which the spirit of the Gospel should impart! Here\nyou find one who discovers nothing in the religion of his brethren but\nerrors to controvert; who cannot perceive any Christianity beyond the\npeculiarities of his own creed, and thinks that all the evils of\nsociety are to be traced to the opinions of which he has discerned the\nfallacy. There, on the other hand, is one who, without perceiving the\ndifference between discussion and wrangling, entertains a foolish dread\nof all controversy, and, as if the mutual good-will of mankind depended\non their uniformity of faith, suppresses his own views, and melts down\nthe distinctions which separate them from the views of others. The\nenlightened Christian will acknowledge that both these are in the\nextreme. Against the exclusive spirit of the former the preceding part\nof this discourse may be a sufficient remonstrance; and I will conclude\nwith a few remarks in reference to the latter. It must be admitted that\nthe fear of making an open profession of faith is a not unnatural fruit\nof the despotism with which society persecutes those who deviate from\nits established modes of thinking. A vast machinery of refined\nintimidation is prepared, to awe down every rising spirit that seeks to\nemerge from the thraldom of authorized custom into the glorious liberty\nof the sons of God. The charge of singularity, the smile of wonder, the\nsneer of aristocratical derision, the cold recoil of suspicion, and the\nopen upbraidings of bigotry, are the keen weapons by which the world\nhastens to assault the conscientious openness which it ought to hail and\nvenerate. Assailed by so many enemies, it is little wonder that the weak\nand timid should fall into that \"fear of man which bringeth a snare\";\nand that this should often lead them to act where they should keep\naloof, and to be passive where they should act; to speak when they\nshould be silent, and oftener to be silent when they should speak; to\nthink within the barriers of established rules, or, when more\nconvenient, not to think at all. But however natural may be the origin\nof this accommodating flexibility in the intolerance of society, it\nreceives no justification hence; it is utterly incompatible with that\nChristian simplicity which is ever the same to men and to God, which\nunfolds the character to the view in harmonious proportion, and would\nscorn to appear other than it is. It can exist only in the mind that\nloves the praise of men more than the praise of God.\n\nI cannot leave this concluding part of my subject, without remembering\nthat I am animadverting on a fault which has been peculiarly charged\non my own sacred profession. The ministers of the Gospel, it has been\nsaid, the very men who should live under the constant eye of God, have\never afforded the most signal examples of the fear of man. My\nbrethren, I confess it with shame: and it is a truth to which I can\nnever revert without feelings of indignant sorrow. Happily there have\nbeen many noble exceptions, and in this place it is not difficult to\nbring many before the view. But the more I read the past records of\nthe Church, and the more I study its secret history at the present\nday, the more painfully strong is my conviction that the ministers of\nthe Gospel have been the most temporizing class of men. They are the\nappointed investigators of sacred truth, employed expressly for the\npurpose of opening the treasuries of divine wisdom and knowledge; and\nyet from none has society gained fewer accessions of truth and light.\nThough stationed by their office between heaven and earth, they have\ngathered upon their souls more influences from below than from above;\nthough ordained to declare the whole counsel of God, they have more\noften studied the taste than the wants of their hearers; though\nencircled in the discharge of their duties by an arm almighty to\nuphold, they too have felt afraid. My beloved friends, I know not how\nit appears to others, but to me it seems that in the whole Christian\ncode there is not a duty of more clear and paramount obligation than\nthe honest, simple avowal of Christian truth. The first natural\ndictate of the mind is to speak what it thinks on any subject of deep\ninterest and importance; and I am persuaded that a man must\nsophisticate his conscience, must fill his judgment with forced\nreasoning and false excuses, before he can come to the conclusion that\nhe had better keep truth to himself. Do you ask me, \"What is truth?\nAmid the conflicting sentiments of mankind, how is it possible with\nconfidence to take up any as exclusively just?\" I answer, every man's\nown convictions to him are truth, to him are Christianity; and that to\nconceal them is to act the part of the wicked and slothful servant\nwho buried his master's talent in the earth. It signifies not that men\nmay obtain acceptance with God without thinking as you think; God\nforbid that I should for a moment doubt that! But do you believe that\ntruth is better for man than error? Do you believe that they are not\nboth alike to his mental and moral condition? If so, it is\nselfishness, it is sinful exclusion, to wrap yourself up in the\nsolitary enjoyment of your own convictions. For my part, I see nothing\nbut hypocrisy in the elaborate attempts which are sometimes put forth,\nto make opinions look like popular creeds, by slurring over grand\npoints of distinction, by pushing forward apparent resemblances, by a\ndexterous use of ambiguous phrases, and other arts equally worthy of a\nChristian's scorn. Indeed, my fellow-Christians, we ought never to be\ncontent till this great principle has been established,--that, in\nobeying the noble law of Christian openness and sincerity, it is not\nthe business of the human being to calculate consequences _at all_;\nthat temporal expediency must in no degree enter into the\nconsideration. God is the author of truth, and he will take care of\nits consequences; and I am well satisfied that, let appearances be\nwhat they may, honesty will bring after it nothing but good. Even\nsuppose that we should be found to be in error: then, the sooner it is\nexposed the better; and nothing is so likely to lead to its exposure\nas the undisguised publication of its evidence. \"Opinion in good men,\"\nit has been beautifully remarked, \"is but knowledge in the making\";\nand it is by sifting the grounds on which opinions rest, by bringing\nthem into close comparison, and setting many minds to work upon them,\nthat truth is at length elicited; and he is no enlightened lover of\ntruth, who is an enemy to the avowal of opinion. It is to be lamented\nthat the world has been so successful in circulating the feeling, even\namong the well-meaning of mankind, that there can be anything to be\nashamed of in opinion; for hence has arisen an association of fear,\nand almost of conscious guilt, with one of the noblest and first\nduties of the mind, the duty of thinking for itself. Let the inquirer\nand the teacher keep their eye steadily fixed upon the Scriptures,\nmake it their single object to know and to communicate what they\ncontain; let them utterly forget that there are any inspectors of\ntheir conduct, any listeners to their words, except God and their own\nconscience; and I am satisfied that truth and charity will spread\ntogether, and more union be produced among the now widely dissevered\nportions of the Christian world, than any timid mediators, striving to\nbe all things to all men, will ever be able to effect. The alarmed\nreconciler of inconsistencies may seem for a while to be successful;\nhe may keep together in temporary harmony those dissimilar elements\nwhich more fearless spirits might separate; he may persuade men that\nthey agree when they are wide as the poles asunder; he may surround\nhimself by numbers, and multiply the directions in which his immediate\ninfluence extends. On the other hand, the reformer who cannot conceal,\nand who dare not pretend, who interprets most strictly the law of\nChristian simplicity, may lose many supporters who ought to stand by\nhim in the hour of trial; he may be looked on with suspicion and\navoided as dangerous; he may be the centre at which a thousand weapons\nare directed; he may seem to have been imprudent and premature, and to\nhave baffled his own cause by his indiscreet openness; he may go down\nto the evening termination of his labors, accompanied only by a\nfaithful few, and cheered by no multitude of approving voices. But\nwait till a generation has passed away, and then come and look into\nthe field occupied by these two laborers. Then you will find it proved\nthat numbers are not always strength; when gathered together by the\nfeeble bond of private influence, they are scattered when that\ninfluence is withdrawn. The timid man has left no permanent trace\nbehind him; he has inspired no courage, provided no security for the\nfuture, and the grass has grown over the road that leads to his\ntemple. But the man who has not feared to tell the whole truth is\nremembered and appealed to by succeeding generations; his name,\npronounced in his lifetime with reproach, becomes a familiar term of\nencouragement; his thoughts, his spirit, long survive him, gather\ntogether new and more powerful advocates, and are associated with the\nrecords of imperishable truth.\n\nFinally, the great evil of this disposition is, that it constrains the\nnatural action of the mind, and produces a weak vacillation of\ncharacter which paralyzes every virtuous energy. The grand secret of\nhuman power, my friends, is singleness of purpose; before it, perils,\nopposition, and difficulty melt away, and open out a certain pathway\nto success. But alas! brethren, our Christianity has not taken from us\nthe spirit of fear, and given us in its place the spirit of power, and\nof love, and of a sound mind. We still put duty to the vote. We shrink\nfrom being singular, even in excellence, forgetting how many things\nare customs in heaven which are eccentricities on earth. We fix our\neye, now on the tempting treasures below, then on the half-veiled\nglories above; we open our ears, now to the welcome tones of human\npraise, then to the accents of God's approving voice; and in the vain\nattempt to reconcile opposing claims, we sacrifice our interest in\nboth worlds. It is melancholy to think what a waste of human activity\nhas been occasioned by this weakness; how many purposes which, if\nconcentrated, might have left deep traces of good, have been applied\nin opposite directions; how many well-meaning men have laid a\nbenumbing hand of timidity on their own good deeds, and passed through\nlife without leaving one permanent impression of their character on\nsociety. It is not want of an ample sphere, it is not poverty of\nmeans, it is not mediocrity of talent, that makes most men so\ninefficient in the world; it is a want of singleness of aim. Let them\nkeep a steady eye fixed on the great ends of existence; let them bear\nstraight onwards, never stepping aside to consult the deceitful oracle\nof human opinion; let them heed no spectators save that heavenly cloud\nof witnesses that stand gazing from above; let them go forth into the\nstruggles of life armed with the assurance, \"Fear not, for I am with\nyou\";--and each man will be equal to a thousand; all will give way\nbefore him; he will scatter renovating principles of moral health; he\nwill draw forth from a multitude of other minds a mighty mass of\nkindred and once latent energy; and, having imparted to others\nennobled conceptions of the purposes of life, will enter the unfolded\ngates of immortality, breathing already its spirit of sublimity and\njoy. Brethren, \"how long shall we halt between two opinions?\"\n\nTHE END.\n\nTranscriber's Notes:\n\nObvious punctuation and spelling errors have been fixed throughout.\n\nInconsistent hyphenation is as in the original.\n\nGreek text is shown as in the text with no accent save harsh breathing.\n\nPage 139: Inserted a starting double quote. (... evangelical teacher;\n\"temple, sacrifice, ...)\n\nFootnote 20: Added a closing quote. (... _the people's_.\" The argument\n...)","title":"Studies of Christianity; Or, Timely Thoughts for Religious Thinkers","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":196454}