{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_55988/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_55988","id":"gutenberg_55988","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/55988","summary":null,"tags":["Category: History - Religious","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Enthusiasm -- Religious aspects -- Christianity"],"text":"Note: Images of the original pages are available through\n      the Making of America digital library collection,\n      the University of Michigan. See\n      https://quod.lib.umich.edu/m/moa/AFZ6813.0001.001?view=toc\n\n\nTranscriber's note:\n\n      Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).\n\n      There are minor differences between the titles of sections\n      and those given in the Table of Contents. A reference to two\n      notes, at the end of the book, has been inserted in the table.\n\n\n\n\n\nNATURAL HISTORY OF ENTHUSIASM.\n\nby\n\nISAAC TAYLOR\n\n\n   ... \u03b4\u03cd\u03bf \u1f10\u03c3\u03c4\u1f76, \u03c4\u1f78 \u03bc\u1f72\u03bd \u1f00\u03c1\u03b5\u03c4\u1f74 \u03c6\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9\u03ba\u1f74, \u03c4\u1f78 \u03b4' \u1f21 \u03ba\u03c5\u03c1\u03af\u03b1.\n\n\nFrom the Ninth London Edition.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nNew York:\nRobert Carter & Brothers\nNo. 530 Broadway\n\n1859.\n\n\n\n\nADVERTISEMENT.\n\n\nThe belief that a bright era of renovation, union, and extension,\npresently awaits the Christian Church, seems to be very generally\nentertained. The writer of this volume participates in the cheering\nhope; and it has impelled him to undertake the difficult task of\ndescribing, under its various forms, that FICTITIOUS PIETY which\nhitherto has never failed to appear in times of unusual religious\nexcitement, and which may be anticipated as the probable attendant of a\nnew development of the powers of Christianity.\n\nBut while it has been the writer's principal aim to present to the\nChristian reader, in as distinct a manner as possible, the characters of\nthat specious illusion which too often supplants genuine piety, he has\nalso endeavored so to fix the sense of the term Enthusiasm as to wrest\nit from those who misuse it to their own infinite damage.\n\nThe author would say a word in explanation of his choice of a term in\nthis instance; and of the extent of meaning he has assigned to it. The\nbest that can be done, when matters of mind are under discussion, is to\nselect, from the stores of familiar language, a word which, in its usual\nsense, approximates more nearly than any other to the abstraction spoken\nof. To require from an ethical writer more than this, would be to demand\nthat, before he enters upon his subject, he should both renovate the\nscience of mind, and reform his mother tongue: for when things not yet\nscientifically defined are to be spoken of, it must needs happen that,\nin proportion to the accuracy with which they are described, there will\nbe apparent occasion for taking exception against the sense imputed to\nthe term employed.\n\nThe author proposed it to himself, as his task, to depict, under its\nprincipal forms, FICTITIOUS SENTIMENT in matters of religion, including,\nof course, a consideration of those opinions which seem to be either the\nparents or the offspring of such artificial sentiments. Having this\nobject before him, he would have thought it a very inauspicious, as well\nas cumbrous method, to have constructed a many-syllabled phrase of\ndefinition, to be used on every page of his essay. Instead of attempting\nany such laborious accuracy, he has boldly chosen his single\nterm\u2014Enthusiasm; confiding in the good sense and candor of his readers\nfor allowing him a span or two of latitude when employing it in\ndifferent instances, which seem to come under the same general class.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n                                                                    PAGE\n SECTION I.\n Enthusiasm, Secular and Religious,                                    7\n\n SECTION II.\n Enthusiasm in Devotion,                                              27\n\n SECTION III.\n Enthusiastic Perversions of the Doctrine of Divine Influence,        62\n\n SECTION IV.\n Enthusiasm the Source of Heresy,                                     79\n\n SECTION V.\n Enthusiasm of Prophetic Interpretation,                              96\n\n SECTION VI.\n Enthusiastic Abuses of the Doctrine of a Particular\n Providence,                                                         120\n\n SECTION VII.\n Enthusiasm of Philanthropy,                                         153\n\n SECTION VIII.\n Sketch of the Enthusiasm of the Ancient Church,                     177\n\n SECTION IX.\n The same Subject.\u2014Ingredients of the Ancient Monachism,             201\n\n SECTION X.\n Hints on the probable Spread of Christianity, submitted to\n   those who misuse the term\u2014Enthusiasm,                             238\n\n NOTES\n\n Section VIII                                                        292\n\n Section IX                                                          294\n\n\n\n\nNATURAL HISTORY OF ENTHUSIASM.\n\n\n\n\nSECTION I.\n\nENTHUSIASM, SECULAR AND RELIGIOUS.\n\n\nSome form of beauty, engendered by the imagination, or some semblance of\ndignity or grace, invests almost every object that excites desire. These\nillusions, if indeed they ought so to be called, serve the purpose of\nblending the incongruous materials of human nature, and by mediating\nbetween body and spirit, reconcile the animal and intellectual\npropensities, and give dignity and harmony to the character of man. By\nthese unsubstantial impressions it is that the social affections are\nenriched and enlivened; by these, not less than by the superiority of\nthe reasoning faculties, mankind is elevated above the brute; and it is\nthese that, as the germinating principles of all improvement and\nrefinement, distinguish civilized from savage life.\n\nThe constitutional difference between one man and another is to be\ntraced, in great measure, to the quality and vigor of the imagination.\nThus it will be found that eminently active and energetic spirits are\npeculiarly susceptible to those natural exaggerations by which the mind\nenhances the value of whatever it pursues. At the same time an efficient\nenergy implies always the power of control over such impressions. Yet it\nis enough that these creations of fancy should be under the command of\nreason; for good sense by no means demands a rigid scrutiny into the\ncomposition or mechanism of common motives, or asks that whatever is not\nabsolutely substantial in the objects of desire should be spurned. He\nwho is not too wise to be happy, leaves the machinery of human nature to\naccomplish its revolutions unexplored, and is content to hold the\nmastery over its movements. Whoever, instead of simply repressing the\nirregularities of the imagination, and forbidding its predominance,\nwould altogether exclude its influence, must either sink far below the\ncommon level of humanity, or rise much above it.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe excesses of the imagination are of two kinds; the first is when,\nwithin its proper sphere, it gains so great a power that every other\naffection and motive belonging to human nature is overborne and\nexcluded. It is thus that intellectual or professional pursuits seems\nsometimes to annihilate all sympathy with the common interests of life,\nand to render man a mere phantom, except within the particular circle of\nhis favorite objects.\n\nThe second kind of excess (one species of which forms the subject of the\npresent work) is of much more evil tendency, and consists in a trespass\nof the imagination upon ground where it should have little or no\ninfluence, and where it can only prevent or disturb the operation of\nreason and right feeling. Thus, not seldom, it is seen that, on the\nwalks of common life, the sobrieties of good sense, and the counsels of\nexperience, and the obvious motives of interest, and perhaps even the\ndictates of rectitude, are set at naught by some fiction of an\nexorbitant imagination, which, overstepping its proper function, invests\neven the most ordinary objects, either with preposterous charms or with\nunreal deformities.\n\nVery few minds seem to be altogether free from such constitutional\nerrors of the intellectual sight, which, to a greater or less extent,\nintercept our view of things as they are. And from the same cause it is\nthat we so greatly miscalculate the amount of happiness or of suffering\nthat belongs to the lot of those around us; which happens, not so much\nbecause their actual circumstances are unknown, as because the habitual\nillusions are not perceived by us amidst which they live. And if the\ncoloring medium through which every man contemplates his own condition\nwere exposed to the eyes of others, the victims of calamity might\nsometimes be envied; and still oftener would the favorites of fortune\nbecome the objects of pity. Or if every one were in a moment to be\ndisenchanted of whatever is ideal in his permanent sensations, every one\nwould think himself at once much less happy, and much more so, than he\nhad hitherto supposed.\n\nThe force and extravagance of the imagination is in some constitutions\nso great, that it admits of no correction from even the severest lessons\nof experience, much less from the advices of wisdom: the enthusiast\npasses through life in a sort of happy somnambulency\u2014smiling and\ndreaming as he goes, unconscious of whatever is real, and busy with\nwhatever is fantastic: now he treads with naked foot on thorns; now\nplunges through depths; now verges the precipice, and always preserves\nthe same impassible serenity, and displays the same reckless hardihood.\n\nBut if the predominance of the imagination do not approach quite so near\nto the limits of insanity, and if it admit of correction, then the many\nchecks and reverses which belong to the common course of human life\nusually fray it away from present scenes, and either send it back in\npensive recollections of past pleasures, or forwards in anticipation of\na bright futurity. The former is, of the two, the safer kind of\nconstitutional error; for as the objects upon which the imagination\nfixes its gaze, in this case, remain always unchanged, they impart a\nsort of tranquillity to the mind, and even favor its converse with\nwisdom; but the visions of hope being variable, and altogether under the\ncommand of the inventive faculty, bring with them perpetual agitations,\nand continually create new excitements. Besides; as these egregious\nhopes come in their turn to be dispelled by realities, the pensioner\nupon futurity lives amid the vexations of one who believes himself\nalways plundered; for each day as it comes robs him of what he had\nfondly called his own. Thus the real ills of life pierce the heart with\na double edge.\n\nThe propensity of a disordered imagination to find, or to create, some\nregion of fictitious happiness, leads not a few to betake themselves to\nthe fields of intellectual enjoyment, where they may be exempt from the\nannoyances that infest the lower world. Hence it is that the walks of\nnatural philosophy or abstract science, and of literature, and\nespecially of poetry and the fine arts, are frequented by many who\naddict themselves to pursuits of this kind, not so much from a genuine\nimpulse of native genius or taste, as from a yearning desire to discover\nsome paradise of delights, where no croaking voice of disappointment is\nheard, and where adversity has no range or leave of entrance. These\nintruders upon the realms of philosophy\u2014these _refugees_ from the\nvexations of common life, as they are in quest merely of solace and\ndiversion, do not often become effective laborers in the departments\nupon which they enter: their motive possesses not the vigor necessary\nfor continued and productive toil. Or if a degree of ambition happens to\nbe conjoined with the feeble ardor of the mind, it renders them empirics\nin science, or schemers in mechanics; or they essay their ineptitude\nupon some gaudy extravagance of verse or picture; or perhaps spend their\ndays in loading folios, shelves, and glass cases with curious lumber of\nwhatever kind most completely unites the qualities of rarity and\nworthlessness.\n\nNature has furnished each of the active faculties with a sensibility to\npleasure in its own exercise: this sensibility is the spring of\nspontaneous exertion; and if the intellectual constitution be robust, it\nserves to stimulate labor, and yet itself observes a modest sobriety,\nleaving the forces of the mind to do their part without embarrassment.\nThe pleasurable emotion is always subordinate and subservient, never\npredominant or importunate. But in minds of a less healthy temperament,\nthe emotion of pleasure, and the consequent excitement, is\ndisproportionate to the strength of the faculties. The efficient power\nof the understanding is therefore overborne, and left in the rear; there\nis more of commotion than of action; more of movement than of progress;\nmore of enterprise than of achievement.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nSuch, then, are those who, in due regard both to the essential\ndifferences of character, and to the proprieties of language, should be\ntermed Enthusiasts. To apply an epithet which carries with it an idea of\nfolly, of weakness, and of extravagance, to a vigorous mind, efficiently\nas well as ardently engaged in the pursuit of any substantial and\nimportant object, is not merely to misuse a word, but to introduce\nconfusion among our notions, and to put contempt upon what is deserving\nof respect. Where there is no error of imagination, no misjudging of\nrealities, no calculation which reason condemns, there is no enthusiasm,\neven though the soul may be on fire with the velocity of its movement in\npursuit of its chosen object. If once we abandon this distinction,\nlanguage will want a term for a well-known and very common vice of the\nmind; and, from a wasteful perversion of phrases, we must be reduced to\nspeak of qualities most noble and most infirm by the very same\ndesignation. If the objects which excite the ardor of the mind are\nsubstantial, and if the mode of pursuit be truly conducive to their\nattainment; if, in a word, all be real and genuine, then it is not one\ndegree more, or even many degrees more, of intensity of feeling that can\nalter the character of the emotion. Enthusiasm is not a term of\n_measurement_, but of _quality_.\n\nWhen it is said that enthusiasm is the fault of infirm constitutions, a\nseeming exception must be made in behalf of a few high-tempered spirits,\ndistinguished by their indefatigable energy, and destined to achieve\narduous and hazardous enterprises. That such spirits often exhibit the\ncharacters of enthusiasm cannot be denied; for the imagination spurns\nrestraint, and rejects all the sober measurements and calculations of\nreason, whenever its chosen object is in view; and a tinge, often more\nthan a tinge, of extravagance belongs to every word and action. And yet\nthe exception is only apparent; for although these giants of human\nnature greatly surpass other men in force of mind, courage, and\nactivity, still the heroic extravagance, and the irregular and\nungovernable power which enables them to dare and to do so much, is, in\nfact, nothing more than a partial accumulation of strength, necessary\nbecause the utmost energies of human nature are so small, that, if\nequally distributed through the system, they would be inadequate to\narduous labors. The very same task, which the human hero achieves in the\nfury and fever of a half-mad enthusiasm, would be performed by a seraph\nin the perfect serenity of reason. Although, therefore, these vigorous\nminds are strong when placed in comparison with others, their enthusiasm\nis in itself a weakness;\u2014a weakness of the species, if not of the\nindividual.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nUnless a perpetual miracle were to intercept the natural operation of\ncommon causes, religion, not less than philosophy or poetry, will draw\nenthusiasts within its precincts. Nor, if we recollect on the one hand\nthe fitness of the vast objects revealed in the Scriptures to affect the\nimagination, and on the other, the wide diffusion of religious ideas,\ncan it seem strange if it be found, in fact, that religious enthusiasts\noutnumber any other class. It is also quite natural that enthusiastic\nand genuine religious emotions should be intermingled with peculiar\nintricacy; since the revelations which give them scope combine, in a\npeculiar manner, elements of grandeur, of power, and of sublimity\n(fitted to kindle the imagination), with those ideas that furnish\nexcitement to the moral sentiments.\n\nThe religion of the heart, it is manifest, may be supplanted by a\nreligion of the imagination, just in the same way that the social\naffections are often dislodged or corrupted by factitious sensibilities.\nEvery one knows that an artificial excitement of the kind and tender\nemotions of our nature may take place through the medium of the\nimagination. Hence the power of poetry and the drama. But every one must\nalso know that these feelings, how vivid soever and seemingly pure and\nsalutary they may be, and however nearly they may resemble the genuine\nworkings of the soul, are so far from producing the same softening\neffect upon the character, that they tend rather to indurate the heart.\nWhenever excitements of any kind are regarded distinctly as a source of\nluxurious pleasure, then, instead of expanding the bosom with beneficent\nenergy, instead of dispelling the sinister purposes of selfishness,\ninstead of shedding the softness and warmth of generous love through the\nmoral system, they become a freezing centre of solitary and unsocial\nindulgence; and at length displace every emotion that deserves to be\ncalled virtuous. No cloak of selfishness is, in fact, more impenetrable\nthan that which usually envelops a pampered imagination. The reality of\nwoe is the very circumstance that paralyses sympathy; and the eye that\ncan pour forth its flood of commiseration for the sorrows of the romance\nor the drama, grudges a tear to the substantial wretchedness of the\nunhappy. Much more often than not, this kind of luxurious sensitiveness\nto fiction is conjoined with a callousness that enables the subject of\nit to pass through the affecting occasions of domestic life in immovable\napathy:\u2014the heart has become, like that of leviathan, \"firm as a stone,\nyea, hard as a piece of the nether millstone.\"\n\nThis process of perversion and of induration may as readily have place\namong the religious emotions as among those of any other class; for the\nlaws of human nature are uniform, whatever may be the immediate cause\nwhich puts them in action; and a fictitious piety corrupts or petrifies\nthe heart not less certainly than does a romantic sentimentality. The\ndanger attending enthusiasm in religion is not, then, of a trivial sort;\nand whoever disaffects the substantial matters of Christianity, and\nseeks to derive from it merely, or chiefly, the gratifications of\nexcited feeling; whoever combines from its materials a paradise of\nabstract contemplation, or of poetic imagery, where he may take refuge\nfrom the annoyances and the importunate claims of common life; whoever\nthus delights himself with dreams, and is insensible to realities, lives\nin peril of awaking from his illusions when truth comes too late. The\nreligious idealist sincerely believes himself, perhaps, to be eminently\ndevout; and those who witness his abstraction, his elevation, his\nenjoyments, may reverence his piety; meanwhile, this fictitious\nhappiness creeps as a lethargy through the moral system, and is\nrendering him, continually, less and less susceptible of those emotions\nin which true religion consists.\n\nNor is this always the limit of the evil; for though religious\nenthusiasm may sometimes seem a harmless delusion, compatible with\namiable feelings and virtuous conduct, it more often allies itself with\nthe malign passions, and then produces the virulent mischiefs of\nfanaticism. Opportunity may be wanting, and habit may be wanting, but\nintrinsic qualification for the perpetration of the worst crimes is not\nwanting to the man whose bosom heaves with religious enthusiasm,\ninflamed by malignancy. If checks are removed, if incitements are\npresented, if the momentum of action and custom is acquired, he will\nsoon learn to contemn every emotion of kindness or of pity, as if it\nwere a treason against heaven, and will make it his ambition to rival\nthe achievements, not of heroes, but of fiends. The amenities that have\nbeen diffused through society in modern times forbid the overt acts and\nexcesses of fanatical feeling; but the venom still lurks in the vicinity\nof enthusiasm, and may be quickened in a moment meantime, while\nsmothered and repressed, it gives edge and spirit to those hundred\nreligious differences which are still the opprobrium of Christianity.\nWhoever, then, admits into his bosom the artificial fire of an\nimaginative piety, ought first to assure himself that his heart harbors\nno particle of the poison of ill-will.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe reproach so eagerly propagated by those who make no religious\npretensions, against those who do\u2014that their godliness serves them as a\ncloak of immorality, is, to a great extent, calumnious: it is also, in\nsome measure, founded upon facts, which, though misunderstood and\nexaggerated, give color to the charge. When professors of religion are\nsuddenly found to be wanting in common integrity, or in personal virtue,\nno other supposition is admitted by the world than that the delinquent\nwas always a hypocrite; and this supposition is, no doubt, sometimes not\nerroneous. But much more often his fall has surprised himself not less\nthan others; and is, in fact, nothing more than the natural issue of a\nfictitious piety, which, though it might hold itself entire under\nordinary circumstances, gave way necessarily in the hour of unusual\ntrial. An artificial religion not only fails to impart to the mind the\nvigor and consistency of true virtue, but withdraws attention from those\ncommon principles of honor and integrity which carry worldly men with\ncredit through difficult occasions. The enthusiast is, therefore, of all\nmen, the one who is the worst prepared to withstand peculiar seductions.\nHe possesses neither the heavenly armor of virtue, nor the earthly.\n\nIt were an affront to reason, as well as to theology, to suppose that\ntrue and universal virtue can rest on any other foundation than the fear\nand love of God. The enthusiast, therefore, whose piety is fictitious,\nhas only a choice of immoralities, to be determined by his temperament\nand circumstances. He may become, perhaps, nothing worse than a\nrecluse\u2014an indolent contemplatist, and intellectual voluptuary, shut up\nfrom his fellows in the circle of profitless spiritual delights and\nconflicts. The times are, indeed, gone by when persons of this class\nmight, in contempt of their species, and in idolatry of themselves,\nwithdraw to dens, and hold society only with bats, and make the supreme\nwisdom to consist in the possession of a long beard, a filthy blanket,\nand a taste for raw herbs: but the same tastes, animated by the same\nprinciples, fail not still to find place of indulgence, even amid the\ncrowds of a city: and the recluse who lives in the world will probably\nbe more sour in temper than the anchoret of the wilderness. An ardent\ntemperament converts the enthusiast into a zealot, who, while he is\nlaborious in winning proselytes, discharges common duties very remissly,\nand is found to be a more punctilious observer of his creed than of his\nword. Or, if his imagination be fertile, he becomes a visionary, who\nlives on better terms with angels and with seraphs than with his\nchildren, servants, and neighbors: or he is one who, while he reverences\nthe \"thrones, dominions, and powers\" of the invisible world, vents his\nspleen in railing at all \"dignities and powers\" of earth.\n\nSuperstition\u2014the creature of guilt and fear\u2014is an evil almost as ancient\nas the human family. But Enthusiasm\u2014the child of hope\u2014hardly appeared on\nearth until after the time when life and immortality had been brought to\nlight by Christianity. Hitherto, a cloud of the thickest gloom had\nstretched itself out before the eye of man as he trod the sad path to\nthe grave; and though poetry supplied its fictions, and philosophy its\nsurmises, the one possessed little force, and the other could claim no\nauthentication; neither, therefore, had power to awaken the soul. But\nthe Christian revelation not only shed a sudden splendor upon the awful\nfuturity, but brought its revelations to bear upon the minds of men,\nwith all the pressure and intensity of palpable facts. The long\nslumbering sentiment of immortal hope\u2014a sentiment natural to the human\nconstitution, and chief among its passions\u2014instead of being deluded, as\nheretofore, by dreams, was thoroughly aroused by the hand and voice of\nreality; and human nature exhibited a new development of the higher\nfaculties. When therefore, in the second century of the Christian era,\nvarious and vigorous forms of an enthusiasm, such as the world had\nhitherto never known, are seen to start forth on the stage of history,\nwe behold the indications of the presence of Truth, giving an impulse to\nthe human mind both for the better and the worse, which no fictions of\nsages or poets had ever imparted.\n\nIn proportion as the influence of scriptural religion faded, the elder\nand the younger vice\u2014Superstition and Enthusiasm, joined their forces to\ndeform every principle and practice of Christianity, and in the course\nof four or five centuries, under their united operations, a faint\nsemblance only of its primeval beauty survived; another period of five\nhundred years saw Superstition prevail, almost to the extinction, not\nonly of true religion, but of Enthusiasm also; and mankind fell back\ninto a gloom as thick as that of the ancient polytheism. But at length\nthe breath of life returned to the prostrate church, and the accumulated\nand consolidated evils of many ages were thrown off in a day. Yet as\nSuperstition more than Enthusiasm had spoiled Christianity, she chiefly\nwas recognized as the enemy of religion; and the latter, rather than the\nformer, was allowed to hold a place in the sanctuary after its\ncleansing. Since that happy period of refreshment and renovation, both\nvices have had their seasons of recovered influence; but both have been\nheld in check, and their prevalence prevented. At the present time\n(1828)\u2014we speak of protestant Christendom\u2014the power of superstition is\nexceedingly small; for the diffusion of general knowledge, and the\nprevalence of true religion, and not less the influence of the infidel\nspirit, forbid the advances of an error which must always lean for\nsupport on ignorance and fear. Nor, on the other hand, can it be fairly\naffirmed that ours is eminently or conspicuously an age of religious\nenthusiasm. Yet, as there are superstitions which still maintain a\nfeeble existence under favor of the respect naturally paid to antiquity,\nso are there also among us enthusiastic principles and practices, which,\nhaving been generated in a period of greater excitement than our own,\nare preserved as they were received from the fathers; and seem to be in\nsafe course of transmission to the next generation.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nBut even if it should appear that\u2014excepting individual instances of\nconstitutional extravagance, which it would be absurd, because useless,\nto make the subject of serious animadversion\u2014enthusiasm is not now\njustly chargeable upon any body of Christians, there would still be a\nvery sufficient reason for attempting to fix the true import of the\nterm, so long as it is vaguely and contumeliously applied by many to\nevery degree of fervor in religion which seems to condemn their own\nindifference. Not, indeed, as if there were ground to hope that even the\nmost exact and unexceptionable analysis, or the clearest definitions,\nwould ever avail so to distinguish genuine from spurious piety as should\ncompel irreligious men to acknowledge that the difference is real; for\nsuch persons feel it to be indispensable to the slumber of conscience to\nconfound the one with the other; and although a thousand times refuted,\nthey will again, when pressed by truth and reason, run to the old and\ncrazy sophism which pretends that, because Christianity is sometimes\ndisfigured by enthusiasts and fanatics, therefore there is neither\nretribution nor immortality for man. It is the infatuation of persons of\na certain character, to live always at variance with wisdom, on account\nof other men's follies; and this is the deplorable error of those who\nwill see nothing in religion but its corruptions. Nevertheless Truth\nowes always a vindication of herself to her friends, if not to her\nenemies; and her sincere friends will not wish to screen their own\nerrors, when this vindication requires them to be exposed.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIf, as is implied in some common modes of speaking, enthusiasm were only\nan error in _degree_, or a mere fault by excess, then the attempt to\nestablish a definite distinction between what is blameworthy and what is\ncommendable in the religious affections\u2014between the _maximum_ and\n_minimum_ of emotion which sobriety approves, must be both hopeless and\nfruitless; inasmuch as we should need a scale adapted to every man's\nconstitution; for the very same amount of fervor which may be only\nnatural and proper to one mind, could not be attained by another without\ndelirium or insanity. If this notion were just, every one would be\nentitled to repel the charge of either apathy or enthusiasm; and while\none might maintain, that if he were to admit into his bosom a single\ndegree more of religious fervor than he actually feels, _he_ should\nbecome an enthusiast, another might offer an equally reasonable apology\nfor the wildest extravagances. At this rate the real offenders against\nsober piety could never be convicted of their fault; and in allowing\nsuch a principle we should only authenticate the scorn with which\nindifference loves to look upon sincerity.\n\nThat the error of the enthusiast does not consist in an _excess_ merely\nof the religious emotions, might be argued conclusively on the ground\nthat the Scriptures, our only safe guide on such points, while they are\nreplete with the language of impassioned devotion, and while they\ncontain a multitude of urgent and explicit exhortations, tending to\nstimulate the fervency of prayer, offer no cautions against any such\nsupposed excesses of piety.\n\nBut, as matter of fact, nothing is more common than to meet with\nreligionists whose opinions and language are manifestly deformed by\nenthusiasm, while their devotional feelings are barely tepid: languor,\nrelaxation, apathy, not less than extravagance, characterize their style\nof piety; and it were quite a ludicrous mistake to warn such persons of\nthe danger of being \"religious overmuch.\" Yet it must be granted that\nthose extremes, in matters of opinion or practice, which sometimes\nrender even torpor conspicuous by its absurdities, have always\noriginated with minds susceptible of high excitement. Enthusiasm, in a\nconcrete form, is the child of vivacious temperaments; but when once\nproduced, it spreads almost as readily through inert, as through active\nmasses, and shows itself to be altogether separable from the ardor or\nturbulence whence it sprang.\n\nTo depict the character of those who are enthusiasts by physical\ntemperament is then a matter of much less importance than to define the\nerrors which such persons propagate; for, in the first place, the\noriginators of enthusiasm are few, and the parties infected by it many;\nand, in the second, the evil with the latter is incidental, and\ntherefore may be remedied; while with the former, as it is\nconstitutional, it is hardly in any degree susceptible of correction.\n\nThe examination of a few principal points will make it evident that a\nvery intelligible distinction may, without difficulty, be established\nbetween what is genuine and what is spurious in religious feeling; and\nwhen an object so important is before us, we ought not to heed the\ninjudicious, and perhaps sinister, delicacy of some persons who had\nrather that truth should remain forever sullied by corruptions, and\nexposed to the contempt of worldlings, than that themselves should be\ndisturbed in their narrow and long-cherished modes of thinking. And yet\nthere may be some lesser misconceptions, perhaps, which it will be more\nwise to leave untouched than to attempt to correct them at the cost of\nbreaking up habits of thought and modes of speaking connected\nindissolubly with truths of vital importance. It should also be granted,\nthat, when those explanations or illustrations of momentous doctrines\nwhich an exposure of the error of the enthusiast may lead us to propound\nseem at all to endanger the simplicity of our reliance upon the\ninartificial declarations of Scripture, they are much better abandoned\nat once, although in themselves, perhaps, justifiable, than maintained;\nif in doing so we are seduced from the direct light of revelation into\nthe dim regions of philosophical abstraction.\n\nChristianity has in some short periods of its history been entirely\ndissociated from philosophical modes of thought and expression; and\nassuredly it has prospered in such periods. At other times it has\nscarcely been seen at all, except in the garb of metaphysical\ndiscussion, and then it has lost all its vigor and glory. In the present\nstate of the world the primitive insulation of religious truth from the\nphilosophical style is scarcely practicable; nor indeed does it seem so\ndesirable while, happily, we are in no danger of seeing the light of\nrevelation again immured in colleges. But although it is inevitable, and\nperhaps not to be regretted, that religious subjects, both doctrinal and\npractical, should, especially in books, admit such generalities, every\nsober-minded writer will remember that it is not by an intrinsic and\npermanent necessity, but by a temporary concession to the spirit of the\nage, that this style is used and allowed. He will moreover bear in mind\nthat the concession leans towards a side of danger, and will therefore\nalways hold himself ready to break off from even the most pleasing or\nplausible speculation when his Christian instincts, if the phrase may be\npermitted, give him warning that he is going remote from the vital\natmosphere of scriptural truth. Whatever is practically important in\nreligion or morals, may at all times be advanced and argued in the\nsimplest terms of colloquial expression. From the pulpit, perhaps, no\nother style should at any time be heard; for the pulpit belongs to the\npoor and to the uninstructed. But the press is not bound by the same\nconditions, for it is an instrument of knowledge foreign to the\nauthenticated means of Christian instruction. A writer and a layman is\nno recognized functionary in the Church; he may, therefore, choose his\nstyle without violating any rules or proprieties of office.\n\n\n\n\nSECTION II.\n\nENTHUSIASM IN DEVOTION.\n\n\nThe most formal and lifeless devotions, not less than the most fervent,\nare mere enthusiasm, unless it can be ascertained, on satisfactory\ngrounds, that such exercises are indeed efficient means for promoting\nour welfare. Prayer is impiety, and praise a folly, if the one be not a\nreal instrument of obtaining important benefits, and the other an\nauthorized and acceptable offering to the Giver of all good. But when\nonce these points are determined, and they are necessarily involved in\nthe truth of Christianity, then, whatever improprieties may be\nchargeable upon the devout, an error of incomparably greater magnitude\nrests with the undevout. To err in modes of prayer, may be\nreprehensible; but not to pray, is mad. And when those whose temper is\nabhorrent to religious services animadvert sarcastically upon the\nfollies, real or supposed, of religionists there is a sad inconsistency\nin such criticisms, like that which is seen when the insane make ghastly\nmirth of the manners or personal defects of their friends and keepers.\n\nThe doctrine of immortality, as revealed in the Scriptures, gives at\nonce reason and force to devotion; for if the interests of the present\nlife only, in which \"one event happeneth to the just and to the unjust,\"\nwere taken into calculation, the utility of prayer could scarcely be\nproved, and never be made conspicuous, at least not to the profane. As a\nmatter of feeling, it is the expectation of a more direct and sensible\nintercourse with the Supreme Being in a future life, that imparts depth\nand energy to the sentiments which fill the mind in its approaches to\nthe throne of the heavenly majesty. But the man of earth who thinks\nhimself rich when he has enjoyed the delights of seventy summers, and\nwho deems the hope of eternity to be of less value than an hour of\nriotous sensuality, can never desire to penetrate the veil of second\ncauses, or to \"find out the Almighty.\" Glad to snatch the boons of the\npresent life, he covets no knowledge of the Giver.\n\nNot so those into whose hearts the belief of a future life\u2014of such a\nfuture life as Christianity depicts\u2014has entered. They feel that the\npromised bliss cannot possibly spring from an atheistic satiety of\nanimal or even of intellectual pleasures; but that the substance of it\nmust consist in communion with him who is the source and centre of good.\nThis belief and expectation sheds vigor through the soul while engaged\nin exercises of devotion; for such employments are known to be the\npreparatives, and the foretastes, and the earnests, of the expected\n\"fulness of joy.\" The only idea which the human mind, under its present\nlimitations, can form of a pure and perpetual felicity, free from all\nelements of decay and corruption, is that which it gathers and compounds\nfrom devotional sentiments. In cherishing and expressing these\nsentiments, it grasps, therefore, the substance of immortal delights,\nand, by an affinity of the heart, holds fast the unutterable hope set\nforth in the Scriptures. The Scriptures being admitted as the word of\nGod, this intensity of devotional feelings is exempted from blame or\nsuspicion; nor can it ever be shown that the very highest pitch of such\nfeelings is in itself excessive or unreasonable. The mischiefs of\nenthusiasm arise, not from the force or fervor, but from the perversion\nof the religious affections.\n\nThe very idea of addressing petitions to him who \"worketh all things\"\naccording to the counsel of his own eternal and unalterable will, and\nthe enjoined practice of clothing sentiments of piety in articulate\nforms of language, though these sentiments, before they are invested in\nwords, are perfectly known to the Searcher of hearts, imply that, in the\nterms and the mode of intercourse between God and man, no attempt is\nmade to lift the latter above his sphere of limited notions and\nimperfect knowledge. The terms of devotional communion rest even on a\nmuch lower ground than that which man, by efforts of reason and\nimagination, would fain attain to. Prayer, in its very conditions,\nsupposes, not only a condescension of the divine nature to meet the\nhuman, but a humbling of the human nature to a lower range than it might\nreach. But the region of abstract conceptions, of lofty reasonings, of\nmagnificent images, has an atmosphere too subtile to support the health\nof true piety; and in order that the warmth and vigor of life may be\nmaintained in the heart, the common level of the natural affections is\nchosen as the scene of intercourse between heaven and earth. In\naccordance with this plan of devotion, not only does the Supreme conceal\nhimself from our senses, but he reveals in his word barely a glimpse of\nhis essential glories. By some naked affirmations we are indeed secured\nagainst false and grovelling notions of the divine nature; but these\nhints are incidental, and so scanty that every excursive mind goes\nbeyond them in its conceptions of the infinite attributes.\n\nNor is it only the brightness of the eternal throne that is shrouded\nfrom the view of those who are invited to draw near to him that \"sitteth\nthereon;\" for the immeasurable distance that separates man from his\nMaker is carefully veiled by the concealment of the intervening orders\nof rational beings. Although the fact of such superior existences is\nclearly affirmed, nothing more than the bare fact is imparted: nor can\nwe misunderstand the reason and necessity of so much reserve; for\nwithout it, those free and kindly movements of the heart in which\ngenuine devotion consists, would be overborne by impressions of a kind\nthat belong to the imagination. Distance is known and measured only by\nthe perception of intermediate objects. The traveller who, with weary\nsteps, has passed from one extremity to the other of a continent, and\nwhose memory is fraught with the recollection of the various scenes of\nthe journey, is qualified to attach a distinct idea to the higher terms\nof measurement; but the notion of extended space formed by those who\nhave never passed the boundary of their native province is vague and\nunreal. Such are the notions which, with all the aids of astronomy and\narithmetic, we form of the distances even of the nearest of the heavenly\nbodies. But if the traveller who has actually looked upon the ten\nthousand successive landscapes that lie between the farthest west and\nthe remotest east could, with a sustained effort of memory and\nimagination, hold all those scenes in recollection, and repeat the\nvoluminous idea with distinct reiteration until the millions of millions\nwere numbered that separate sun from sun; and if the notion thus\nlaboriously obtained could be vividly supported and transferred to the\npathless spaces of the universe, then that prospect of distant systems\nwhich night opens before us, instead of exciting mild and pleasurable\nemotions of admiration, would rather oppress the imagination under a\npainful sense of the so measured interval. If the eye, when it fixes its\ngaze upon the vault of heaven, could see, in fancy, a causeway arched\nacross the void, and bordered in long series with the hills and plains\nof an earthly journey\u2014repeated ten thousand and ten thousand times,\nuntil ages were spent in the pilgrimage, then would he who possessed\nsuch a power of vision hide himself in caverns rather than venture to\nlook up to the terrible magnitude of the starry skies, thus set out in\nparts before him.\n\nAnd yet the utmost distances of the material universe are finite; but\nthe disparity of nature which separates man from his Maker is infinite;\nnor can the interval be filled up or brought under any process of\nmeasurement. Nevertheless, in the view of our feeble conceptions, an\napparent measurement or filling up of the infinite void would take\nplace, and so the idea of immense separation would be painfully enhanced\nif distinct vision were obtained of the towering hierarchy of\nintelligences at the basement of which the human system is founded. Were\nit indeed permitted to man to gaze upward from step to step, and from\nrange to range of the vast edifice of rational existences, and could his\neye attain its summit, and then perceive, at an infinite height beyond\nthat highest platform of created beings, the lowest beams of the eternal\nthrone, what liberty of heart would afterwards be left to him in drawing\nnear to the Father of spirits? How, after such a revelation of the upper\nworld, could the affectionate cheerfulness of earthly worship again take\nplace? Or how, while contemplating the measured vastness of the interval\nbetween heaven and earth, could the dwellers thereon come familiarly, as\nbefore, to the Hearer of prayer, bringing with them the small requests\nof their petty interests of the present life? If introduction were had\nto the society of those beings whose wisdom has accumulated during ages\nwhich time forgets to number, and who have lived to see, once and again,\nthe mystery of the providence of God complete its cycles, would not the\nimpression of created superiority oppress the spirit, and obstruct its\naccess to the Being whose excellences are absolute and infinite? Or what\nwould be the feelings of the infirm child of earth, if, when about to\npresent his supplications, he found himself standing in the theatre of\nheaven, and saw, ranged in a circle wider than the skies, the\ncongregation of immortals? These spectacles of greatness, if laid open\nto perception, would present such an interminable perspective of glory,\nand so set out the immeasurable distance between ourselves and the\nSupreme Being with a long gradation of splendors, that we should\nhenceforward feel as if thrust down to an extreme remoteness from the\nDivine notice; and it would be hard, or impossible, to retain, with any\ncomfortable conviction, the belief in the nearness of him who is\nrevealed as \"a very present help in every time of trouble.\" But that our\nfeeble spirits may not thus be overborne, or our faith and confidence\nbaffled and perplexed, the Most High hides from our sight the ministries\nof his court, and, dismissing his train, visits with infinite\ncondescension the lowly abodes of those who fear him, and dwells as a\nFather in the homes of earth.\n\nEvery ambitious attempt to break through the humbling conditions on\nwhich man may hold communion with God, must then fail of success; since\nthe Supreme has fixed the scene of worship and converse, not in the\nskies, but on earth. The Scripture models of devotion, far from\nencouraging vague and inarticulate contemplations, consist of such\nutterances of desire, or hope, or love, as seem to suppose the existence\nof correlative feelings, and indeed of every human sympathy in him to\nwhom they are addressed. And although reason and Scripture assure us\nthat he neither needs to be informed of our wants, nor waits to be moved\nby our supplications, yet will he be approached with the eloquence of\nimportunate desire, and he demands, not only a sincere feeling of\nindigence and dependence, but an undissembled zeal and diligence in\nseeking the desired boons by persevering request. He is to be\nsupplicated with arguments, as one who needs to be swayed and moved, to\nbe wrought upon and influenced; nor is any alternative offered to those\nwho would present themselves at the throne of heavenly grace, or any\nexception made in favor of superior spirits, whose more elevated notions\nof the divine perfections may render this accommodated style\ndistasteful. As the hearer of prayer stoops to listen, so also must the\nsuppliant stoop from the heights of philosophical or meditative\nabstraction, and either come in genuine simplicity of petition, as a son\nto a father, or be utterly excluded from the friendship of his Maker.\n\nThis scriptural system of devotion stands opposed, then, to all those\nfalse sublimities of an enthusiastic pietism which affect to lift man\ninto a middle region between heaven and earth, ere he may think himself\nadmitted to hold communion with God. While the inflated devotee is\nsoaring into he knows not what vagueness of upper space, he \"whom the\nheaven of heavens cannot contain,\" has come down, and, with benign\ncondescension, has placed himself in the centre of the little circle of\nhuman ideas and affections. The man of imaginative, or of hyper-rational\npiety, is gone in contemplation where God is not; or where man shall\nnever meet him: for \"the high and lofty One that inhabiteth eternity,\nwhose name is holy, and who dwelleth in the high and holy place,\" when\nhe invites us to his friendship, holds the splendor of his natural\nperfections in abeyance and proclaims that \"he dwells with the man who\nis of a humble and contrite spirit, to revive the spirit of the humble,\nand to revive the heart of the contrite ones.\" Thus does the piety\ntaught in the Scriptures make provision against the vain exaggerations\nof enthusiasm; and thus does it give free play to the affections of the\nheart; while whatever might stimulate the imagination is enveloped in\nthe thickest covering of obscurity.\n\nThe outward forms and observances of worship are manifestly intended to\ndiscourage and exclude the false refinements of an imaginative piety,\nand to give to the religious affections a mundane, rather than a\ntranscendental character. The congregated worshippers come into \"the\nhouse of God,\" the hall or court of audience, on the intelligible terms\nof human association; and they come by explicit invitation from him who\ndeclares that \"wheresoever two or three are gathered together in his\nname, there he is\" to meet them. And being so assembled, as in the\nactual presence of the \"King of saints\" they give utterance to the\nemotions of love, veneration, hope, joy, penitence, in all those modes\nof outward expression which are at once proper to the constitution of\nhuman nature and proper to be addressed to a being of kindred character\nand sympathies. Worship is planned altogether in adaptation to the\nlimitations of the inferior party, not in proportion to the infinitude\nof the superior; even the worship of heaven must be framed on the same\nprinciple; for how high soever we ascend in the scale of created\nintelligence, still the finite can never surmount its boundaries, or at\nall adapt itself to the infinite. But the infinite may always bow to the\nfinite. Those, therefore, who, inflated by enthusiasm, contemn or\nneglect the modes and style of worship proper to humanity, must find\nthat, though indulgence should be given to their affectation on earth,\nno room can be allowed it in heaven.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe dispensations of the divine providence towards the pious have all\nthe same tendency to confine the devout affections within the circle of\nterrestrial ideas, and to make religion an occupant of the homestead of\ncommon feelings. \"Many are the afflictions of the righteous,\" and\nwherefore, but to bring his religious belief and emotions into close\ncontact with the humiliations of the natural life, and to necessitate\nthe use of prayer as a real and efficient means of obtaining needful\nassistance in distress? If vague speculations or delicious illusions\nhave carried the Christian away from the realities of earth, some urgent\nwant or piercing sorrow presently arouses him from his dreams and\nobliges him to come back to importunate prayer and to unaffected praise.\nA strange incongruity may seem to present itself, when the sons of\nGod\u2014the heirs of immortality, the destined princes of heaven\u2014are seen to\nbe implicated in sordid cares, and vexed and oppressed by the\nperplexities of a moment; but this incongruity strikes us only when the\ngreat facts of religion are viewed in the false light of the\nimagination; for the process of preparation, far from being incompatible\nwith these apparent degradations, requires them; and it is by such means\nof humiliation that the hope of immortality, confined within the heart,\nis prevented from floating in the region of material images.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nWe have said that when an important object is zealously pursued in the\nuse of means proper for its attainment, a mere intensity or fervor of\nfeeling does not constitute enthusiasm. If, therefore, prayer has a\nlawful object, whether it be temporal or spiritual, and is used in\nhumble confidence of its efficiency, as a means of obtaining the desired\nboon or some equivalent blessing, there is nothing unreal in the\nemployment; and therefore nothing enthusiastic. But there are devotional\nexercises, which, though they assume the style and phrases of prayer,\nappear to have no other object than to attain the immediate pleasures of\nexcitement. The devotee is not in truth a _petitioner_; for his prayers\nterminate in themselves; and when he reaches the expected pitch of\ntransient emotion, he desires nothing more. This appetite for feverish\nagitations naturally prompts a quest of whatever is exorbitant in\nexpression or sentiment, and as naturally inspires a dread of all those\nsubjects of meditation which tend to abate the pulse of the moral\nsystem. If the language of humiliation is at all admitted into the\nenthusiast's devotions, it must be so pointed with extravagance, and so\nswollen with exaggerations, that it serves much more to tickle the fancy\nthan to affect the heart: it is a burlesque of penitence very proper to\namuse a mind that is destitute of real contrition. That such artificial\nhumiliations do not spring from the sorrow of repentance, is proved by\ntheir bringing with them no lowliness of temper. Genuine humility would\nshake the towering structure of this enthusiastic pietism; and,\ntherefore, in the place of Christian humbleness of mind, there are\ncherished certain ineffable notions of self-annihilation, and\nself-renunciation, and we know not what other attempts at metaphysical\nsuicide. If you will receive the enthusiast's description of himself, he\nhas become, in his own esteem, by continued force of divine\ncontemplation, infinitely less than an atom\u2014a mere negative quantity\u2014an\nincalculable fraction of positive entity! meanwhile the whole of his\ndeportment betrays a self-importance that might be ample enough for a\ngod.\n\nMinds of superior order, and when refined by culture, may be full\nfraught with enthusiasm without exhibiting any very reprehensible\nextravagances; for taste and intelligence avail to conceal the\noffensiveness of error, as well as of vice. But it will not be so with\nthe gross and the uneducated. These, if they are taught to neglect the\nsubstantial purposes of prayer, and are encouraged to seek chiefly the\ngratifications of excitement, will hardly refrain from the utterance of\ndiscontent, when they fail of success. Whatever physical or accidental\ncause may oppress the animal spirits, and so frustrate the attempt to\nreach the desired pitch of emotion, gives occasion to some sort of\nquerulous altercation with the Supreme Being; or to some disguised\nimputation of caprice on the part of Him who is supposed to have\nwithheld the expected spiritual influence. Thus the divine condescension\nin holding intercourse with man on the level of friendship, is abused in\nthis wantonness of irreverence; and the very same temper which impels a\nman of vulgar manners, when disappointed in his suit, to turn upon his\nsuperior with the language of rude opprobrium, is, in its degree,\nindulged towards the Majesty of heaven. \"Thou thoughtest that I was\naltogether such an one as thyself,\" is a rebuke which belongs to those\nwho thus affront the Most High with the familiarities of common\ncompanionship. We say not that flagrant abuses of this kind are of\nfrequent occurrence, even among the uneducated; yet neither are they\nquite unknown. A perceptible tendency towards them always accompanies\nthe enthusiastic notion that the principal part of piety is excitement.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe substitution of the transient and unreal, for the real and enduring\nobjects of prayer, brings with it often that sort of ameliorated\nmysticism which consists in a solicitous dissection of the changing\nemotions of the religious life, and in a sickly sensitiveness, serving\nonly to divert attention from what is important in practical virtue.\nThere are anatomists of piety who destroy all the freshness and vigor of\nfaith, and hope, and charity, by immuring themselves night and day in\nthe infected atmosphere of their own bosoms. But now let a man of warm\nheart, who is happily surrounded with the dear objects of the social\naffections, try the effect of a parallel practice; let him institute\nanxious scrutinies of his feelings towards those whom, hitherto, he has\nbelieved himself to regard with unfeigned love; let him in these\ninquiries have recourse to all the fine distinctions of a casuist, and\nuse all the profound analyses of a metaphysician, and spend hours daily\nin pulling asunder every complex emotion of tenderness that has given\ngrace to the domestic life; and, moreover, let him journalize these\nexaminations, and note particularly, and with the scrupulosity of an\naccomptant, how much of the mass of his kindly sentiments he has\nascertained to consist of genuine love, and how much was selfishness in\ndisguise; and let him from time to time solemnly resolve to be, in\nfuture, more disinterested, and less hypocritical in his affections\ntowards his family! What, at the end of a year, would be the result of\nsuch a process? What, but a wretched debility and dejection of the\nheart, and a strangeness and a sadness of the manners, and a suspension\nof the native expressions and ready offices of zealous affection?\nMeanwhile the hesitations, and the musings, and the upbraidings of an\nintroverted sensibility absorb the thoughts. Is it then reasonable to\npresume that similar practices in religion can have a tendency to\npromote the healthful vigor of piety?\n\nBy the constitution of the human mind, its emotions are strengthened in\nno other way than by exercise and utterance; nor does it appear that the\nreligious emotions are exempted from this general law. The Divine Being\nis revealed to us in the Scriptures as the proper and supreme object of\nreverence, of love, and of affectionate obedience; and the natural means\nof exercising and of expressing these feelings are placed before us,\nboth in the offices of devotion and in the duties of life, just in the\nsame way that the opportunities of enhancing the domestic affections are\nafforded in the constitution of social life. Why, then, should the\nChristian turn aside from the course of nature, and divert his feelings\nfrom their outgoings towards the supreme object of devotional sentiment,\nby instituting curious researches into the quality, and quantity, and\ncomposition of all his religious sensations? This spiritual\nhypochondriasis enfeebles at once the animal, the intellectual, and the\nmoral life, and is usually found in conjunction with infirmity of\njudgment, infelicity of temper, and inconsistency of conduct.\n\nBut it is alleged that the heart, even after it has undergone spiritual\nrenovation, is fraught with hidden evils, which mingle their influence\nwith every emotion of the new life, and that an often-renewed analysis\nis necessary in order to detect and to separate the lurking mischiefs.\nTo know the evils of the heart is indeed indispensable to the humility\nand the caution of true wisdom; and whoever is utterly untaught in this\ndismal branch of learning is a fool. But to make it the chief object of\nattention is not only unnecessary, but fatal to the health of the soul.\n\nThe motives of the social, not less than those of the religious life,\nare open to corrupting mixtures which spoil their purity, and impair\ntheir vigor. As, for example, the emotion of benevolence, which impels\nus to go in quest of misery, and to labor and suffer for its relief, is\nliable, in most men's minds, to be alloyed by some particles of the\ndesire of applause; indeed, there are nice and learned anatomists of the\nheart, who assure us that benevolence, when placed in the focus of high\noptic powers, exhibits nothing but a gay feathery coat of vanity, set\nupon the flimsiness of selfish sensibility. Be it so\u2014and let men of\nsmall souls amuse themselves with these petty discoveries. But assuredly\nthe philanthropist who is followed through life by the blessings of\nthose \"that were ready to perish,\" and whose memory goes down in the\nfragrance of these blessings to distant ages, is not found to spend his\ndays and nights in pursuing any such subtile micrologies. Have the sons\nof wretchedness been most holpen by Rochefoucaulds and Bruyeres, or by\nHowards? If the philanthropist be a wise and Christian man, he will,\nknowing as he does the evils and infirmities of the heart, endeavor to\nexpel and preclude the corrupting mischiefs that spring from within, by\ngiving yet larger play to the great motives by which exclusively he\ndesires to be impelled; he will, with new intentness, devote himself to\nthe service in which his better nature delights, and bring his soul into\nstill nearer contact with its chosen objects, and oblige himself to hold\nmore constant communion with the miserable; and he will spurn, with\nrenovated courage, the whispers of indolence and fear. Thus he pushes\nforward on the course of action, where alone, by the unalterable laws of\nhuman nature, the vigor of active virtue may be maintained and increased.\n\nIf, indeed, the heart be a dungeon of foul and vaporous poisons, if it\nbe \"a cage of unclean birds,\" if \"satyrs dance there,\" if the\n\"cockatrice\" there hatch her eggs of mischief, let the vault of dark\nimpurity be thrown open to the purifying gales of heaven, and to the\nbright shining of the sun; so shall the hated occupants leave their\nhaunts, and the noxious exhalations be exhausted, and the deathly chills\nbe dispelled. He surely need not want light and warmth who has the\nglories of heaven before him; let these glories be contemplated with\nconstant and upward gaze, while the foot presses with energy the path of\nhope, and the hand is busied in every office of charity. The Christian\nwho thus pursues his way, will rarely, if ever, be annoyed by the\nspectres that haunt the regions of a saddened enthusiasm.\n\nThe moping sentimentalism which so often takes the place of Christian\nmotives is to be avoided, not merely because it holds up piety to the\nview of the world under a deplorable disguise; nor merely because it\ndeprives its victims of their comfort; but chiefly because it ordinarily\nproduces inattention to the substantial matters of common morality. The\nmind occupied from dawn of day till midnight with its own multifarious\nailments, and busied in studying its pathologies, utterly forgets, or\nremissly discharges, the duties of social life: or the temper, oppressed\nby vague solicitudes, falls into a state which makes it a nuisance in\nthe house. Or, while the rising and falling temperature of the spirit is\nwatched and recorded, the common principles of honor and integrity are\nso completely lost sight of, that, without explicit ill-intention,\ngrievous delinquencies are fallen into, which fail not to bring a deluge\nof reproach upon religion. These melancholy perversions of Christian\npiety might seem not to belong, with strict propriety, to our subject;\nbut, in fact, religious despondency is the child of religious\nenthusiasm. Exhaustion and dejection succeed to excitement, just as\ndebility follows fever. Yesterday the unballasted vessel was seen\nhanging out all the gayety of its colors, and spreading wide its\nindiscretion before a breeze; but the night came, the breeze\nstrengthened, and to-day the hapless bark rolls dismasted, without help\nor hope, over the billows.\n\nAmid the various topics touched upon by Paul, Peter, John, and James, we\nscarcely find an allusion to those questions of spiritual nosology\nwhich, in later periods, and especially since the days of Augustine,[1]\nand very much in our own times, have filled a large space in religious\nwritings. The Apostles believed, with unclouded confidence, the\nrevelation committed to them, of judgment to come, of redemption from\nwrath by Jesus Christ, and of eternal glory:\u2014these great facts filled\ntheir hearts, and governed their lives, and, in conjunction with the\nprecepts of morality, were the exclusive themes of their preaching and\nwriting. Evidently they found neither time nor occasion for entering\nupon nice analyses of motives; or for indulging fine musings and\npersonal melancholies; nor did they ever think of resting the\nall-important question of their own sincerity, and of their claim to a\npart in the hope of the gospel, upon the abstruse dialectics which have\nsince been thought indispensable to the definition of a saving faith.\nAssuredly the Christians of the first age did not suppose that volumes\nof metaphysical distinctions must be written and read before the\ngenuineness of religious professions could be ascertained. The want, in\nmodern times, of a vivid conviction of the truth of Christianity, is\nprobably the occasional source of many of these idle and disheartening\nsubtleties; and it may be believed that a sudden enhancement of\nfaith\u2014using the word in its unsophisticated meaning\u2014throughout the\nChristian community would dispel, in a moment, a thousand dismal and\nprofitless refinements, and impart to the feelings of Christians that\nunvarying solidity which naturally belongs to the perception of facts so\nimmensely important as those revealed in the Scriptures.\n\nIn witnessing, first, the entreaties, and supplications, and tears of a\nconvicted, condemned, and repentant malefactor, prostrate at the feet of\nhis sovereign, and then the exuberance of his joy and gratitude in\nreceiving pardon and life, no one would so absurdly misuse language as\nto call the intensity and fervor of the criminal's feelings\nenthusiastical: for, however strong, or even ungovernable those emotions\nmay be, they are perfectly congruous with the occasion: they spring from\nno illusion; but are fully justified by the momentous turn that has\ntaken place in his affairs: in the past hour he contemplated nothing but\nthe horrors of a violent, an ignominious, and a deserved death; but now\nlife, with its delights, is before him. It is true that all men in the\nsame circumstances would not undergo the same intensity of emotion: but\nall, unless obdurate in wickedness, must experience feelings of the same\nquality. And thus, so long are the real circumstances under which every\nhuman being stands in the court of the Supreme Judge are clearly\nunderstood, and duly felt, enthusiasm finds no place; all is real;\nnothing illusory. But when once these unutterably important facts are\nforgotten or obscured, then, by necessity every enhancement of religious\nfeeling is a step on the ascent of enthusiasm; and it becomes a matter\nof very little practical consequence, whether the deluded pietist be the\nworshipper of some system of abstract rationalism or of tawdry images\nand rotten relics; though the latter error of the two is perhaps\npreferable, inasmuch as a warm-hearted fervor is always better than\nfrozen pride.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nOne commanding subject pervades the Scriptures, and rises to view on\nevery page: this recurring theme, towards which all instructions and\nhistories tend, is the great and anxious question of condemnation or\nacquittal at the bar of God, when the irreversible sentence shall come\nto be pronounced. \"How shall man be just with God?\" is the inquiry ever\nand again urged upon the conscience of him who reads the Bible with a\nhumble and teachable desire to find therein the way of life. In\nsubserviency to this leading intention, the themes which run through the\nsacred writings, and which distinguish those writings by an immense\ndissimilarity from all the remains of polytheistic literature, are those\nof guilt, shame, contrition, love, joy, gratitude, and affectionate\nobedience. And moreover, in conformity with this same intention, the\nDivine Being is revealed\u2014if not exclusively, yet chiefly\u2014as the party in\nthe great controversy which sin has occasioned. The intercourse,\ntherefore, which is opened between heaven and earth is almost confined\nto the momentous transactions of reconciliation and renewed friendship.\nWhen the Hearer of prayer invites interlocution with man, it is not, as\nperhaps in Eden, for the purposes of free and discursive converse, but\nfor conference on a special business. \"Come now, let us reason together,\nsaith the Almighty, though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be white\nas snow, though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool.\"\n\nThe same speciality of purpose and limitation of subject is plainly\nimplied in the appointment of a Mediator and Advocate; for although the\nestablishment of this happy medium of approach authorizes and encourages\neven a boldness of access to the throne of the heavenly grace, it not\nless evidently imposes a restriction or peculiarity upon the intercourse\nbetween God and man. As the Intercessor exercises his office to obtain\nthe bestowment of the benefits secured to mankind by his vicarious\nsufferings, the suppliant must surely have those benefits especially in\nview. The work and office of the Mediator, and the desires and petitions\nof the client, are correlatives. \"No man,\" said the Saviour, \"cometh\nunto the Father but by me.\" It follows then, naturally, that those who\nthus come to the Father should keep in constant remembrance the great\nintention of the mediatorial scheme, which is nothing else than to\nreconcile transgressors to the offended Majesty of heaven. But this\nunalterable condition of all devotional services contains a manifest and\nefficacious provision against enthusiastical excitements; for the\nemotions of shame and penitence, and of joy in receiving the assurance\nof pardon, are not of the class with which the imagination has near\naffinity, and, in a well-ordered mind, they may rise to their highest\npitch without either disturbing the powers of reason, or infringing the\nmost perfect inward serenity, or outward decorum. In a word, it may be\nconfidently affirmed that no man becomes an enthusiast in religion,\nuntil he has forgotten that he is a transgressor\u2014a transgressor\nreconciled to God by mediation.\n\nBut when, either by the refinements of rationalism\u2014a gross misnomer\u2014or\nby superstitious corruptions, the central facts of Christianity have\nbecome obscured, no middle ground remains between the apathy of\nformality and the extravagance of enthusiasm. The substance of religion\nis gone, and its ceremonial only remains\u2014remains to disgust the\nintelligent, and to delude the simple. This momentous principle is\nstrikingly displayed in the construction of the Romish worship. That\nfalse system assumes the great business of pardon and reconciliation\nwith God to be a transaction that belongs only to priestly negotiation;\nand as forgiveness has its price, and the priest is at once the\nappraiser of the offence, and the receiver of the mulct, it would be an\nintrusion upon his function, an interference that must derange his\nbalances, for the transgressor to act on his own behalf, or ever to\ninquire what passes between the authorized agent of mercy, and the court\nof heaven. No room, then, is left in this system for the great and\ncentral subject of all devotional exercises. The doctrine of pardon\nhaving been cut off from worship, worship becomes unsubstantial. The\nexpiatory death and availing intercession of the Son of God are taken\nwithin the rail of sacerdotal usurpation; and of necessity, if Jesus\nChrist is at all to be set forth \"crucified before the people,\" it can\nonly be as an object of dramatic exhibition. This is the secret of the\npopish magnificence of worship. Music, and painting, and pantomime, and\na tinsel declamation, must do their several parts to disguise the\nsubduction of the essentials of devotion. The laity, having nothing to\ntransact with God, must be amused and beguiled, \"lest haply the gospel\nof his grace\" should enter the heart, and so the trading intervention of\nthe priest be superseded.\n\nThe great purpose of the Romish worship, which is to preclude all\ngenuine feelings by substituting the enthusiasm of the imagination, is\naccomplished, it must be confessed, with consummate skill, and a just\nknowledge of the human mind. The end proposed will, manifestly, be best\nattained when the emotions which spring from the imagination are made to\nresemble as nearly as possible those that belong to the heart. The\nnicest imitation will be the most successful in this machinery of\ndelusion. Hence it is, that while all those means of excitement are\nemployed which quicken the physical sensibilities, the deeper\nsensibilities of the soul are also addressed, and yet always by the\nintervention of dramatic or poetic images. A plain and undisguised\nappeal to the heart is unknown to the system.\n\nIf it be for a moment forgotten, that in every bell, bowl, and vest of\nthe Romish service there is hid a device against the liberty and welfare\nof mankind, and that its gold, and pearls, and fine linen are the\ndeckings of eternal ruin; and if this apparatus of worship be compared\nwith the impurities and the cruelties of the old polytheistic rites,\ngreat praise may seem due to its contrivers. Nothing in Christianity\nthat might subserve the purposes of dramatic effect has been overlooked;\nand even the most difficult parts of the materials have been wrought\ninto keeping. The humiliations and poverty which shroud the glory of the\nprincipal personage, and the horrors of his death; as well as the awful\nbeauty and compassionate advocacy of the virgin mother, the queen of\nheaven; the stern dignity of the twelve; the marvels of miraculous\npower; the heroism of the martyrs; the mortifications of the saints; the\npunishment of the enemies of the church; the practices of devils; the\nintercession and tutelary cares of the blessed; the sorrows of the\nnether world, and the glories of the upper;\u2014all these materials of\npoetic and scenic effect have been elaborated by the genius and taste of\nthe Italian artists, until a spectacle has been got up which leaves the\nmost splendid shows of the ancient idol-worship of Greece and Rome at a\nvast distance of inferiority.[2]\n\nBut of what avail is all this sumptuous apparatus in promoting either\ngenuine piety or purity of manners? History and existing facts leave no\nobscurity on the question; for the atrocity of crime, and the foulness\nof licentiousness, have ever kept pace with the perfection of the Romish\nservice. Those nations upon whose manners it has worked its proper\ninfluence with the fullest effect, have been the most irreligious and\nthe most debauched. Splendid rites and odious vices have dwelt in peace\nunder the same consecrated roofs; and the actors and spectators of these\nsacred pantomimes have been wont to rush together from the solemn pomps\nof worship, to the chambers of filthy sin.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe substitution of poetic enthusiasm for genuine piety may, however,\ntake place apart from the decorations of the Romish service; but the\nmeans employed must be of a more intellectual cast: eloquence must take\nthe labor on itself, and must subject the doctrines of Scripture to a\nprocess of refinement which shall deposit whatever is substantial and\naffecting, and retain only what is magnific, pathetic, or sublime. And\nyet the principles of protestantism, and, in some respects, the national\ntemper, and certainly the style and spirit, of the devotional services\nof the English Church, all discourage the attempt to hold forth the\nsubjects of evangelical teaching in the gorgeous colors of an artificial\noratory. And if the evidence of facts were listened to, such attempts\nwould never be made by those who honestly desire to discharge the\nmomentous duties of the Christian ministry in the manner most conducive\nto the welfare of their hearers. A blaze of emotion, having the\nsemblance of piety, may be kindled by descriptive and impassioned\nharangues, such as those that are heard, on festival days, from French\nand Italian pulpits; but it will be found that the Divine Spirit,\nwithout whose agency the heart is never permanently affected, refuses to\nbecome a party in any such theatric exercises; these emotions will\ntherefore subside without leaving a vestige of salutary influence.\n\nYet is there perhaps a lawful, though limited range open, in the pulpit,\nto the powers of descriptive eloquence. The preacher may safely\nembellish all those subsidiary topics that are not included within the\ncircle of the primary principles on which the religious affections are\nbuilt; for in addressing the imagination on these accessory points, he\ndoes not incur the danger of founding piety altogether upon illusions.\nThe great and beautiful in nature, and perhaps the natural attributes of\nthe Deity, and the episodes of sacred history, and the diversities of\nhuman character, and the scenes of social life, and the secular\ninterests of mankind, may, by their incidental connection with more\nimportant themes furnish the means of awakening attention, and of\nvarying the sameness of theological discourse. Or even if no\nunquestionable plea of utility could be urged in recommendation of such\ndivertisements, at the worst they are not chargeable with the\ndesecration of fundamental doctrines; nor do they generate delusion\nwhere delusion must be fatal. But it is not so with the principal\nmatters of the preacher's message to his fellow-men, which can hardly be\ntouched by the pencil of poetic or dramatic eloquence without incurring\na hazard of the highest kind, inasmuch as the excitement so engendered\nmore often totally excludes than merely impairs genuine feelings.\n\nIf the taste of an audience be quickened and cultivated, nothing is more\neasy to the teacher, or more agreeable to the taught, than a transition\nfrom the sphere of spiritual feeling to the regions of poetic\nexcitement. Intellect is put in movement by the change; conscience is\nlulled; the weight that may have rested on the heart is upborne, and a\nstate of animal elasticity induced, which, so long as it continues,\ndispels the sadness of earthly cares. Let it be supposed that the\nsubject of discourse is that one which, of all others, should be the\nmost solemnly affecting to those who admit the truth of Christianity\u2014the\nawful process of the last judgment. The speaker, we will believe,\nintends nothing but to inspire a salutary alarm; and with this view he\nessays his utmost command of language, while he describes the sudden\nwaning of the morning sun, the blackening of the heavens, the decadence\nof the stars, the growing thunders of coming wrath, the clang of the\ntrumpet, whose notes break the slumbers of the dead, the crash of the\npillars of earth, the bursting forth of the treasures of fire, and the\nsolving of all things in the fervent heat. Then the bright appearance of\nthe Judge, encircled by the splendors of the court of heaven; the\nconvoked assemblage of witnesses from all worlds, filling the concave of\nthe skies. Then the dense masses of the family of man, crowding the area\nof the great tribunal; the separation of the multitude; the irreversible\nsentence, the departure of the doomed, the triumphant ascent of the\nransomed.\n\nCompared with themes like these, how poor were the subjects of ancient\noratory! And such is their force, and such the freshness of their power,\nthat, though a thousand times presented to the imagination, they may yet\nagain, whenever skilfully managed, command breathless attention while\nthe sands of the preacher's hour are running out. Nor ought it to be\nabsolutely affirmed that excitements of this kind can never produce\nsalutary impressions; or that such impressions never accompany the\nhearer beyond the threshhold of the church, or survive a day's contact\nwith secular interests: peremptory assertions of this sort are\nunnecessary to our argument. The question to be answered is, whether\nthis species of movement be not of the nature of mere enthusiasm, and\nwhether it does not ordinarily rather exclude than promote religious\nfeelings.\n\nIn reference to the illustration we have adduced, there might be\nroom for the previous inquiry, whether, on sound principles of\ninterpretation, the language of Scripture ought to be understood as\ngiving any warrant whatever to those material images of terrible\nsublimity with which it is usual to invest the proceedings of the future\nday of retribution. But let it be granted that the customary\nrepresentations of popular oratory are not erroneous; and that when the\npreacher thus accumulates the physical machinery of terror, he is truly\npicturing that last scene of the terrestrial history of man. Even then\nit were not difficult, by an effort of reasoning and of meditation, and\nby following out the emotions of our moral constitution, to realize the\nfeelings which must fill the soul on that day when the secrets of all\nhearts shall be published; and these feelings may be imagined, on\nprobable grounds of anticipation, to be such as must render all exterior\nperceptions dim and make even the most stupendous magnificence of the\nsurrounding scene to fade from the sight. It is nothing but the present\ntorpor of the moral sentiments that allows to material ideas so much\npower to occupy and overwhelm the mind; but when the soul shall be\nquickened from its lethargy, then good and evil will take that seat of\ninfluence which has been usurped by unsubstantial images of greatness,\nbeauty, or terror. What are the thunderings of a thousand storms; what\nthe clangor of the trumpet, or the crash of earth, or the universal\nblaze; what the dazzling front of the celestial array, or even the\nappalling apparatus of punishment, to the spirit that has become alive\nto the consciousness of its own moral condition, and is standing naked\nin the manifested presence of the High and Holy One. That time of\njudgment which is to dispel all disguises, and to drag sin from its\ncoverts into the full light of heaven, will assuredly find no leisure\nfor the discursive eye; one perception, one emotion, will doubtless rule\nexclusive in the soul.\n\nNo extravagance or groundless refinement is contained in the supposition\nthat, in the great day of inquiry and award, the moral shall so\noverwhelm the physical, that when, by regular process of evidence,\naccording to the forms of that perfect court, conviction has been\nobtained of even some minor offence against the eternal laws of purity\nor justice\u2014an offence which, if confessed on earth, would hardly have\nbrought a blush upon the cheek\u2014the heart will be penetrated with an\nanguish of shame that shall preclude the perception of surrounding\nwonders:\u2014on that day it will be sin, not a flaming world, that shall\nappall the soul.\n\nIf anticipations such as these approve themselves to reason, it follows\nthat the humblest and the least adorned eloquence of a purely moral\nkind, of which the only topics are sin and holiness, guilt and pardon,\ntakes incomparably a nearer and a safer road towards the attainment of\nthe great object of Christian instruction than does the most\noverwhelming oratory that addresses itself chiefly to the imagination.\nNay, it may be affirmed that such oratory, however artfully elaborated,\nand however well intended it may be, is nothing better than a curtain,\nfinely wrought, indeed, with gorgeous colors, but serving to hide from\nmen the substantial terrors of the day of retribution.\n\nNothing, then, can be more glaringly inequitable than the manner in\nwhich the imputation of enthusiasm is frequently advanced in relation to\npulpit oratory. On the ground either of common sense or of philosophical\nanalysis, the epithet should be assigned to him who, in neglect or\ncontempt of the substance of his argument, draws an idle and profitless\nexcitement from its adjuncts. And on the same ground we must exculpate\nfrom such a charge the speaker who, however intense may be his fervor,\nis himself moved, and labors to move others, by what is most solemn and\nmomentous in his subject. Now to recur for a moment to the illustration\nalready adduced. In the anticipations we may form of the day of\njudgment, there are combined two perfectly distinct classes of ideas; on\nthe one side there are those images of physical grandeur and of dramatic\neffect which offer themselves to the imaginative orator as the proper\nmaterials of his art, and which, if skillfully managed, will not fail to\nproduce the kind of excitement that is desired by both speaker and\nhearer. On the other side there are, in these anticipations, the\nforensic proceedings which form the very substance of the fearful scene;\nand these proceedings, though of infinite moment to every human being,\ntend rather to quell than to excite the imagination, and therefore\nafford the preacher no means of producing effect, or even of keeping\nalive attention, unless the conscience of the hearer be alarmed, and his\nheart opened to the salutary impressions of fear, shame, and hope. In\nlooking then at these themes, so distinct in their qualities, we ask\u2014Is\nhe the enthusiast who concerns himself with the substance; or he who\namuses himself and his hearers with the shadow? Yet is it common to hear\nan orator spoken of as a sound and sober divine, who, for maintaining\nhis influence and popularity, depends exclusively, constantly, and\navowedly, upon his power to affect the imagination and the passions by\npoetic or dramatic images, and who is perpetually laboring to invest the\nsolemn doctrines of religion in a garb of attractive eloquence.\nMeanwhile a less accomplished speaker, who\u2014perhaps with more of\nvehemence than of elegance\u2014insists simply upon the momentous part of his\nmessage, is branded as an enthusiast, merely because his fervor rises\nsome degrees above that of others. Ineffable folly! to designate as\nenthusiastical the intensity of genuine emotions, and to approve as\nrational mere deliriums of the fancy, which intercept the influence of\nmomentous truths upon the heart. Yet such is the wisdom of the world!\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIt cannot be pretended that the distinction between genuine and\nenthusiastic piety turns upon a metaphysical nicety: nothing so\nimportant to all men must be imagined to await the determination of\nabstruse questions; and if the distinction which has been illustrated in\nthe preceding pages is not perfectly intelligible, it may safely be\nrejected as of no practical value. But surely there can hardly be any\none so little observant of his own consciousness as not to have learned\nthat the feelings excited by what is beautiful or sublime, terrible or\npathetic, differ essentially from those emotions that are kindled in the\nheart by the ideas of goodness and of purity, or of malignancy and\npollution. And every one must know that virtue and piety have their\nrange among feelings of the latter, not of the former class; and every\none must perceive that if the former occupy the mind to the exclusion of\nthe latter, the moral sentiments cannot fail to be impoverished or\ncorrupted. It is, moreover, very evident that the great facts of\nChristianity possess, adjunctively, the means of exciting, in a powerful\ndegree, the emotions that belong to the imagination, as well as those\nwhich affect the heart; it therefore follows that the former may, in\nwhole or in part, supplant the latter; and thus a fictitious piety be\nengendered, which, while it produces much of the semblance of true\nreligion, yields none of its substantial fruits. In this manner it may\nhappen, not in rare instances, but in many, that if, in the history of\nan individual, a season of religious excitement has once taken place,\nthough it had in it little or nothing of the elements of a change from\nevil to good, it may have been assumed as constituting a valid and\ninamissible initiation in the Christian life; and if subsequently the\ndecencies of religion and of morality have been preserved, a strong\nsupposition of sincerity is entertained to the last, even though all was\nillusory.\n\nYet these melancholy cases of self-deception are not to be remedied by\nmere explanations of the delusion; on the contrary, the practical use to\nbe made of definitions and distinctions and descriptions in matters of\nreligious feeling, is to exhibit the necessity and to enhance the value\nof more available tests of sincerity. Thus, for example, if it appear\nthat, in times like the present, when religious profession undergoes no\nsevere probation, the danger of substituting some species of enthusiasm\nfor true piety is extreme, there will appear the greater need to have\nrecourse to those means of proof which infallibly discriminate between\ntruth and pretension. This means of proof is nothing else than the\nstandard of morals and of temper exhibited in the Scriptures. No other\nmethod of determining the most momentous of all questions is given to\nus, and none other is needed. We can neither ascend into the heavens,\nthere to inspect the book of life, nor satisfactorily descend into the\ndepths of the heart to analyze the complex and occult varieties of its\nemotions. But we may instantly and certainly know whether we do the\nthings which he whom we call Lord has commanded.\n\n[1] The metaphysico-devotional \"Confessions\" of the good Bishop of Hippo\nmay perhaps not unfairly be placed at the head of this very peculiar\nspecies of literature. The author is reluctant to name some modern works\nwhich he might deem liable to objection, on the ground of their giving\nencouragement to religious sentimentalism, lest he should put into the\nmouth of the irreligious a style of criticism which they would not fail\nto abuse. He is aware that he runs a hazard of this sort in advancing\nwhat he has above advanced. He can only say that he thinks the subject\nmuch too important in itself, and too intimately connected with the\ntheme of this Essay, to be passed in silence. And he cautions the\nirreligious reader, if the book should fall into the hand of any such\nunhappy person, not to suppose that the author would either disparage\nthe important duty of self-examination; or speak slightingly of those\nmental struggles which will ever attend the conflict between good and\nevil in the heart that has admitted the purifying influence of the Holy\nSpirit. What he pleads for, is, that self-examination should always have\nreference to tho Christian standard of temper and conduct; and that\nspiritual conflicts should consist of a resistance against evil\ndispositions or immoral practices. What he fears on the part of\nreligious folks is, a forgetfulness of meekness, temperance, integrity,\namid the illusions\u2014now gloomy, now gaudy\u2014of a diseased brain.\n\n[2] Strictly speaking, the religion of Greece was not eminently a\nreligion of ritual splendor: on the contrary, there reigned in the\npublic services of the most intellectual of all nations, much of the\nsimplicity of devout fervor, much of the chasteness of fine taste, and\nmuch of the archaic and unadorned solemnity that had descended to the\nGreeks from the patriarchal ages. Even in their theatres, and on their\nrace-courses, there was far less of pomp and finery than is demanded on\nsimilar occasions by a modern European populace. The Romans carried the\n_sublime in decoration_ to a further point; and in the same degree\nexchanged reason and taste for colors, gildings, and draperies. Upon the\nRoman barbaric magnificence the corrupt church of the fifth and\nfollowing centuries engrafted, in a confused medley, the gorgeous\nconceptions of the eastern nations\u2014the terrible ideas of the northern\nhordes\u2014the jugglings of Italian priests, and the sheer puerilities of\nmonks and children. Such is the _Christian_ worship of Rome!\nNevertheless, its elements comprise so much that is beautiful, or\nimposing, that its puerilities catch not the eye; and a man must be very\nrational who altogether repels the impression of its services.\n\n\n\n\nSECTION III.\n\nENTHUSIASTIC PERVERSIONS OF THE DOCTRINE OF DIVINE INFLUENCE.\n\n\nA sentiment natural to the human mind, leads it to entertain and to\ndwell with pleasure upon the belief of the stability and permanence of\nthe material world. Whether we view the multiform ranks of organized and\nanimated beings which cover the earth, or examine the occult processes\nof nature, or look upwards, and contemplate distant worlds, the\nregularity with which the great machine of the visible creation effects\nits revolutions inspires a deep emotion of delight. This feeling brings\nwith it involuntarily the supposition of extended duration; nor is it\nwithout extreme difficulty that we can separate the idea of so vast a\ncombination of causes and effects, moving forward with unfailing\nprecision, from the thought, if not of eternity, yet of unnumbered ages\ngone by, and yet to come. While these natural impressions occupy the\nmind, a strange revulsion of feeling takes place, if suddenly it be\nrecollected that the massy pillars of creation, with its towering\nsuperstructure, and its high-wrought embellishments, and its innumerable\ntenants, are absolutely destitute of intrinsic permanency, and that the\nstupendous frame, with its nice and mighty movements, is incessantly\nissued anew from the fount of being. Apart from the divine volition,\nperpetually active, there can be no title to existence; and in the\nmoment which should succeed to the cessation of the efficient will of\nthe First Cause, all creatures must fall back to utter dissolution.\n\nReason as well as faith justifies this doctrine, and demands that we\ndeny independency to whatever is created; devoutly confessing that God\nis \"all in all.\" In him by whom they were formed, \"all things consist:\"\nin him all \"live and move and have their being.\" He is the author and\ngiver of life; and in the strictest sense it may be affirmed that every\nday is a day of creation, not less than that on which \"the morning\nstars\" uttered their earliest shout of joyous wonder: every moment\nduring the lapse of ages, the word of power is pronounced from the\nheight of the Eternal Throne\u2014\"Let there be light\" and life. This belief\nconstitutes the basement-principle of all religion, and is the sentiment\nfrom which piety must take its spring. The notion of independency and of\neternity, suggested by the regular movements of nature, are thus thrown\noff from the surface of the visible world, and go to enhance our\nimpressions of the glories of him who alone is eternal, unchangeable and\nindependent.\n\nBut it is certain that the conditions of existence, not less than its\nmatter and form, are from God. In truth, the notions of being, and of\nwell-being, are not to be distinguished in reference to the divine\ncausation; for each of his works is perfect, both in model and in\nmovement. There can be therefore no particle of virtue or of happiness\nin the universe, any more than of bare existence, of which God is not\nthe author. Neither Scripture nor philosophy permits exceptions or\ndistinctions to be made; for if we attribute to the Creator the organ,\nwe must also attribute to him its functions, and its health too, which\nis only the perfection of its functions. And thus also, if the soul,\nwith its complex apparatus of reason, and moral sentiment, and appetite,\nbe the handiwork of God, so is its healthful action. But the healthful\naction of the soul consists in love to God, and free subjection to his\nwill. Virtue is nothing else in its substance, nothing else in its\ncause. As in him we live and move and have our being, so also it is he\nwho \"worketh in us to will and to do\" whatever is pleasing to himself.\nWhether we take the safe and ready method of acquiescing in the obvious\nsense of a multitude of Scriptures, or pursue the laborious deductions\nof abstract reasoning, the same conclusion is attained, that, in the\npresent world, and in every other where virtue and happiness are found,\nvirtue and happiness are emanations of the divine blessedness and purity.\n\nBut if this efflux of the divine nature belongs to the original\nconstitution of intelligent beings, and is the permanent and only source\nof all goodness and felicity, it must be intimately fitted to the\nmovements of mind, and must harmonize perfectly with its mechanism; just\nas perfectly as the creative influence harmonizes with the mechanism and\nmovements of animal life.\n\nWhatever is vigorous and healthful in the one kind of existence, or holy\nand happy in the other, is of God, whose power and goodness are,\nthroughout the universe, the natural, not the supernatural cause of\nwhatever is not evil. It were then a strange supposition to imagine that\nthis impartation of virtue and happiness may be perceptible to the\nsubject of it, like the access of a foreign and extraordinary influence;\nor that while the creative agency is altogether undistinguishable amid\nthe movements of animal and intellectual life, the spiritual agency\nwhich conveys the warmth and activity of virtue to the soul, is\notherwise than inscrutable in its mode of operation. As the one kind of\ndivine energy does not display its presence by convulsive or capricious\nirregularities, but by the unnoticed vigor and promptitude of the\nfunctions of life; so the other energy cannot, without irreverence, be\nthought of as making itself felt by pr\u00e6ter-natural impulses, or sensible\nshocks upon the intellectual system; but must rather be imagined as an\nequable pulse of life, throbbing from within, and diffusing softness,\nsensibility and force through the soul.\n\nIt is indeed true that if death or torpor has long held the moral powers\nin a state of suspended action, the returning principle of life, while\nworking its way in contrariety to such a derangement of the system, may\nmake itself felt otherwise than where no similar obstruction has to be\novercome; yet will it only be perceived by its collision with the evils\nthat have usurped the heart; not by its own spontaneous movements. These\nare, in truth, the foreign and disturbing influences; it is these that\nmake themselves known by their abrupt and capricious activity, by their\nconvulsive or feverish force. Meanwhile the heavenly emanation which\nheals, cleanses, and blesses the spirit is still, and constant, and\ntransparent, as \"a well of water springing up unto eternal life.\"\n\nNevertheless, from the accidents of the position in which we are placed,\nthe divine influence may appear under an aspect immensely unlike that in\nwhich we should view it if our prospect of the intelligent universe were\nmore extended than it is. Thus the sad tenant of a dungeon, who has\nspent the days of many years alive in the darkness of the tomb, thinks\nfar otherwise of the light of the sun, as he watches the pencil ray that\ntraverses his prison wall, than those do who walk abroad amid the\nsplendors of the summer's noon. Or we may imagine a world of once\nanimated beings to be lying in the coldness and corruption of death, and\nwe may suppose that the creative power returns and reanimates some among\nthe dead, restoring them instantaneously to the warmth, and vigor, and\nenjoyments of life. The spectator of this partial resurrection, who had\nlong contemplated nothing but the dismal stillness and corruption of the\nuniversal death, might, in his glad amazement, forget that the death of\nso many, not the life of the few, is anomalous, and strange, and\ncontrary to the order of nature. The miracle, if so he will term it, is\nnothing more\u2014nothing else, than what is every instant taking place\nthroughout the wide realms of happy existence. The life-giving energy\nwhose beams of expansive beneficence had been for a while, and in this\nworld of death, intercepted or withdrawn, has returned with a kindling\nrevulsion to its wonted channel; and now moves on in copious\ntranquillity. The dead may indeed still outnumber the living;\nnevertheless it is the condition of the former, not that of the latter,\nthat is extraordinary; and the return to life, how amazing soever it may\nseem, could with no propriety be called supernatural.\n\nThe language of Scripture, when it asserts the momentous doctrine of the\nrenovation of the soul by the immediate agency of the Spirit of God,\nemploys figurative terms which, while they give the utmost possible\nforce to the truth so conveyed, indicate clearly the congruity of the\nchange so effected with the original construction of human nature. The\nreturn to virtue and happiness is termed a resurrection to life; or it\nis a new birth; or it is the opening of the eyes of the blind, or the\nunstopping the ears of the deaf; or it is the springing up of a fountain\nof purity; or it is a gale of heaven, neither seen nor known but by its\neffects; or it is the growth and fructification of the grain; or it is\nthe abode of a guest in the home of a friend, or the residence of the\nDeity in his temple. Each of these emblems, and all others used in the\nScriptures in reference to the same subject, combines the double idea of\na change\u2014great, definite, and absolute\u2014and of a change from disorder,\ncorruption, derangement, to a natural and permanent condition: they are\nall manifestly chosen with the intention of excluding the idea of a\nmiraculous or semi-miraculous intervention of power. On the one hand, it\nis evident that a change of moral dispositions, so entire as to be\nproperly symbolized by calling it a new birth, or a resurrection to\nlife, must be much more than a self-effected reformation; for if it were\nnothing more, these figures would be preposterous, unnecessary, and\ndelusive. But on the other hand, this change must be perfectly in\nharmony with the physical and intellectual constitution of human nature,\nor the same figures would be devoid of propriety and significance.\n\nBut a doctrine of divine influence like this, though so full of promise\nand of comfort to the aspirant after true virtue, offers nothing to\nthose who desire transitory excitements, and who look for visible\ndisplays of supernatural power; and therefore it does not satisfy the\nreligious enthusiast. Not content to be the recipient of an invigorating\nand purifying emanation, which, unseen and unperceived, elevates the\ndebased affections, and fixes them on the Supreme Excellence; nor\nsatisfied to know that, under this healing influence, the inveteracy of\nevil dispositions is broken up, and a real advance made in virtue, he\nasks some sensible evidence of the indwelling of the Holy Spirit, and\nwould fain so dissect his own consciousness as to bring the presence of\nthe Divine agent under palpable examination. Or he seeks for some such\nextraordinary turbulence of emotion as may seem unquestionably to\nsurpass the powers and course of nature. Fraught with these wishes, he\ncontinually gazes upon the variable surface of his own feelings, in\nunquiet expectation of a supernatural troubling of the waters. The\nsilent rise of the wellspring of purity and peace he neither heeds nor\nvalues; for nothing less than the eddies and sallies of religious\npassion can assure him that he is, \"born from above.\"\n\nA delusive notion of this kind at once diverts attention from the\ncultivation and practice of the virtues, and becomes a fermenting\nprinciple of frothy agitations, that either work themselves off in the\nsourness of an uncharitable temper, or are followed by physical\nmelancholies; or perhaps by such a relaxation of the moral sentiments as\nleaves the heart exposed to the seductions of vicious pleasure. Thus the\nreligious life, instead of being a sunshine of augmenting peace and\nhope, is made up of an alternation of ecstasies and despondencies; or\nworse, of devotional fervors and of sensual indulgences. The same error\nnaturally brings with it a habit of referring to other, and to much less\nsatisfactory tests of Christian character than the influence of religion\nupon the temper and conduct. So it happens that practical morality, from\nbeing slighted as the only valid credential of profession, comes, too\noften, to be thought of as something which, though it may be well in its\nway, is a separable adjunct of true piety.\n\nThe rate of general feeling that exists at any time in a community\nmeasures the height to which the exorbitances of enthusiasm may attain;\nthus in times of peculiar excitement a perverted notion of Divine\ninfluence is seen to ripen into the most fearful excesses. In such\nseasons it is not enough that the presence of the Holy Spirit should be\nindicated by unusual commotions of the mind; but convulsions of the body\nalso are demanded in proof of the heavenly agency. Extravagance becomes\ngluttonous of marvels; religion is transmuted into pantomime; delirium\nand hypocrisy, often found to be good friends, take their turns of\ntriumph; while humility, meekness, and sincerity, are trodden down in\nthe rout of impious confusion. Deplorable excesses of this kind happily\nare infrequent, and never of long continuance; but it has happened more\nthan once in the history of Christianity that the habit of grimace in\nreligion, having established itself in an hour of fanatical agitation,\nand become associated, perhaps, with momentous truths, as well as with\nthe distinguishing tenets of a sect, has long survived the warmth of\nfeeling in which it originated, and whence it might derive some apology,\nand has passed down from father to son, a hideous mask of formality,\nworshipped by the weak, and loathed, though not discarded, by the\nsincere. Meanwhile an hereditary or a studied agitation of the voice and\nmuscles, ludicrous, if it were not distressing to be seen, is made to\nrepresent before the world the sacred and solemn truth, a truth\nessential to Christianity, that the Spirit of God dwells in the hearts\nof Christians! Whatever special interpretation may be given to our\nLord's awful announcement concerning the sin against the Holy Ghost, an\nannouncement which stands out as an anomaly in the midst of his\ndeclarations of mercy, every devout mind must regard it as shedding, if\nwe might say so, a penumbra of warning around the doctrine of divine\ninfluence, and will admit an apprehension lest he should, by any\nperversion of that doctrine, approach the precincts of so tremendous a\nguilt, or become liable to the charge of giving occasion in others to\nunpardonable blasphemies.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIf it be true that the agency of the Holy Spirit in renovating the heart\nis perfectly congruous with the natural movements of the mind, both in\nits animal and intellectual constitution, it is implied that whatever\nnatural means of suasion, or of rational conviction, are proper to\nrectify the motives of mankind, will be employed as concomitant, or\nsecond causes of the change. These exterior and ordinary means of\namendment are, in fact, only certain parts of the entire machinery of\nhuman nature; nor can it be believed that its Author holds in light\nesteem his own wisdom of contrivance; or is at any time obliged to break\nup or to contemn the mechanism which he has pronounced to be \"very\ngood.\" That there actually exists no such intention and no such\nnecessity, is declared by the very mode and form of revealed religion;\nfor this revelation consists of the common materials of moral\ninfluence\u2014argument, history, poetry, eloquence. The same divine\nauthentication of the natural modes of influence, is contained in the\nestablishment of the Christian ministry, and in the warrant given to\nparental instruction. These institutions concur to proclaim the great\nlaw of the spiritual world, that the heavenly grace which reforms the\nsoul operates constantly in conjunction with second causes and ordinary\nmeans. In an accommodated, yet legitimate sense of the words, it may be\naffirmed of every such cause, that the \"powers that be are of God;\"\nthere is no power but of his ordaining; and \"whosoever resisteth (or\nwould supersede) the power, resisteth the ordinance of God.\"\n\nNo one can doubt the possibility, abstractedly, of the immediate agency\nof the Omnipotent Spirit of Grace, without the intervention of means;\nnor does any one doubt the power of God to support human life without\naliment; for \"man liveth not by bread alone.\" But in neither case does\nhe adopt this mode of independent operation: on the contrary, the Divine\nconduct, wherever we can trace it, is seen to approve much more the\nsettled arrangements of wisdom, than the bare exertions of power. The\ntreasures of that wisdom are surely never exhausted, nor can a case\narise in which an immediate effort of Omnipotence becomes necessary\nmerely to supply the lack of instruments. Nor does the vindication of\nthe honors of Sovereign Grace need any such interpositions; for the\nabsolute necessity of an efficient power above that which resides in the\nnatural means of suasion is abundantly proved, on the one hand, by the\nfrequent inefficacy of these means, when employed under the most\nfavorable circumstances; and on the other, by the efficacy, as frequent,\nof means apparently inadequate to the production of the happy changes\nwhich result from them. It is not only affirmed by Scripture, but\nestablished by experience, that \"neither he that planteth, nor he that\nwatereth, is anything;\" and at the same time it is affirmed by the one,\nand established by the other, that, apart from the planting and the\nwatering of the husbandman, God, ordinarily, giveth no increase.\n\nNo persuasion or instruction, we are assured, can of itself, in any one\ninstance, avail to penetrate the deathlike indifference of the human\nmind towards spiritual objects; but when once this torpor is removed by\ninscrutable grace, then the very feeblest and most inadequate means are\nsufficient for effecting the renovation of the heart. A single phrase,\nspeaking of judgment to come, lisped by a child, has proved itself of\npower to awaken the soul from the slumber of the sensual life, if, when\nthe sound falls on the ear, the spirit has been quickened from above. In\nsuch a case it were an error to affirm that the change of character was\neffected independently of external means; for though they were disguised\nunder a semblance of extreme feebleness, and were such as might be\neasily overlooked or forgotten, they had in themselves the substantial\npowers of the highest eloquence; and what might have been added to the\nmomentous truth, so feebly announced, would have been little more than\nembellishment; like the embroideries and embossments of the warrior's\ngarniture, which add nothing to the vigor of his arm.\n\nTwo causes seem to have operated in maintaining the notion that divine\ninfluence is often dissociated from concurrent means of suasion; the\nfirst of these is an ill-judged but excusable jealousy on the part of\npious persons for the honor of Sovereign Grace; and is a mere reaction\nupon orthodoxy, from the Pelagian and semi-Pelagian heresies such\npersons have thought it necessary, for the safety of a most important\ndoctrine, not merely to assert the supremacy of the ultimate agent; but\nto disparage, as much as possible, all intermediate instruments. The\nsecond of these causes is the imaginary difficulty felt by those who,\nhaving unadvisedly plunged into the depths of metaphysical theology,\nwhen they should have busied themselves only with the plain things of\nreligion, fail in every attempt to adjust their notions of divine aid\nand human responsibility; and, therefore, if they would be zealous for\nthe honor due to the first, think themselves obliged almost to nullify\nthe second. If any such difficulty actually exists, it should be made to\nrest upon the operations of nature, where it meets us not less than in\nthe precincts of theology; and the husbandman should desist from his\ntoils until schoolmen have demonstrated to him the _rationale_ of the\ncombined operations of first and second causes. Or if such a\ndemonstration must not be waited for, and if the husbandman is to commit\nthe precious grain to the earth, and to use all his skill and industry\nin favoring the inscrutable process of nature, then let the theologian\npursue a parallel course, content to know, that while the Scriptures\naffirm in the clearest manner whatever may enhance our ideas of the\nnecessity and sovereignty of divine grace, they nowhere give intimation\nof a suspended or halved responsibility on the part of man; but, on the\ncontrary, use, without scruple, language which implies that the\nspiritual welfare of those who are taught depends on the zeal and labors\nof the teacher, as truly as the temporal welfare of children depends on\nthe industry of a father. The practical consequences of such speculative\nconfusions are seen in the frightful apathy and culpable negligence of\nsome instructors and parents, who, because a metaphysical problem, which\nought never to have been heard of beyond the walls of colleges,\nobstructs their understandings, have acquired the habit of gazing with\nindifference upon the profaneness and immoralities of those whom their\ndiligence might have retained in the path of piety and virtue.\n\nAnother capital perversion remains to complete the enthusiastic abuse of\nthe doctrine of divine influence; and this is the supposition that those\nheavenly communications to the soul which form a permanent constituent\nof the Christian dispensation, are not always confined to the matter or\nto the rule of Scripture, and that the favored subject of this teaching,\nat least when he has made considerable advances in the divine life, is\nled on a higher path of instruction, where the written revelation of the\nwill of God may be neglected or scorned. This bold delusion assumes two\nforms: the first is that of the tranquil contemplatist, the whole of\nwhose religion is inarticulate and vague, and who neglects or rejects\nthe Scripture, not so much because he is averse to its truths, as\nbecause the mistiness of his sentiments abhors whatever is distinct, and\ndefinite, and fixed. To read a plain narrative of intelligible facts,\nand to derive practical instruction therefrom, implies a state of mind\nessentially different from that which he finds it necessary to his\nfactitious happiness to maintain: before he can thus read his Bible in\nchildlike simplicity he must forsake the religion of dreams, and open\nhis eyes to the world of realities; in a word he must cease to be an\nenthusiast.\n\nThe other form of this delusion should excite pity rather than provoke\nrebuke; and calls for the skill of the physician, more than for the\ninstructions of the theologian. The limits of insanity have not yet been\nascertained; perhaps it has none; and certainly there are facts that\nfavor the belief that the interval between common weakness of judgment\nand outrageous madness is filled up by an insensible gradation of\nabsurdity, nowhere admitting of a line of absolute separation. Where,\nfor example, shall we pause, and separate the sane from the insane,\namong those who believe themselves to be favored perpetually with\nspecial, particular, and ultra-scriptural revelations from heaven? The\nmost modest enthusiast of this class, and the most daring visionary,\nstand together on the same ground of outlawry from common sense and\nscriptural authority; and though their several offences against truth\nand sobriety may be of greater or less amount, they must both be dealt\nwith on the same principle; for both have alike excluded themselves from\nthe benefit of appeal to the only authorities known among the sane part\nof mankind, namely, reason and Scripture: those who reject both,\nsurrender themselves over to pity\u2014or compulsion.\n\nIt would manifestly be better that men should be left to the darkness\nand wanderings of unassisted reason, than that they should receive the\nimmediate instructions of heaven, unless they possess at the same time a\npublic and fixed rule to which all such supernatural instructions are to\nbe conformed, and by which they are to be discriminated; for the errors\nof reason, how great soever they may be, carry with them no weight of\ndivine authority; but if the doctrine of divine communications be\nadmitted, and admitted without reference to a public and permanent\nstandard of truth, then every extravagance of impiety may claim a\nheavenly origin; and who shall venture to rebuke even the most pestilent\nerror; for how shall the reprover assure himself that he is not fighting\nagainst God?\n\nIt has already been affirmed that enthusiasm, far from being necessarily\nor invariably connected with fervor or feeling, is often seen to exist,\nin its wildest excesses, conjoined with the most frigid style of\nreligious sentiment. Thus, for example, the three egregious perversions\nof the doctrine of divine influence, which have been described in the\npreceding pages, are maintained, and have been professed and defended\nduring several generations, by a sect remarkable, if not for the\nchilliness, at least for the stillness of its piety, and its contempt of\nthe natural expressions of devotional feeling; and even for a peculiar\nshrewdness of good sense in matters of worldly interest. But the\nincongruities of human nature are immense and incalculable; or it would\nnot be seen that general intelligence, and amiable manners, and\nChristian benevolence, are often linked with errors which, if viewed\nabstractedly, might seem as if they could belong only to minds that were\nlost to wisdom and piety.\n\n\n\n\nSECTION IV.\n\nENTHUSIASM THE SOURCE OF HERESY.\n\n\nThe creed of the Christian is the fruit of exposition; no part of it is\nelaborated by processes of abstract reasoning; no part is furnished by\nthe inventive faculties. To ascertain the true meaning of the words and\nphrases used by those who \"spake as they were moved by the Holy Ghost,\"\nis the single aim of the studies of the theologian. Interpretation is\nhis function. But the work of interpretation, considered as an\nintellectual employment, differs essentially from that of the student of\nphysical or abstract science; for it neither needs nor admits of the\nardor by which those pursuits are animated. Nor has nature furnished the\nfaculties that are employed in the labor of expounding the terms of\nancient documents with any very vivid susceptibility of pleasurable\nexcitement. The toils of the lawyer, of the philologist, and of the\ntheologian, must therefore be sustained by a reference to some\nsubstantial motive of utility; and though there may be a few minds so\npeculiarly constituted as to cultivate these studies with enthusiastic\nardor, from the pure impulse of native taste, the ranks of a numerous\nbody of men can never be filled up by spontaneous laborers of this sort.\n\nChristianity, being as it is, a religion of documents and of\ninterpretation, must utterly exclude from its precincts the adventurous\nspirit of innovation. Theology offers no field to men fond of\nintellectual enterprise: the Church has no work for them; or none until\nthey have renounced the characteristic propensity of their mental\nconformation. True religion, unlike human science, was given to mankind\nin a finished form, and is to be learned, not improved; and though the\nmost capacious human mind is nobly employed while concentrating all its\nvigor upon the acquirement of this documentary learning, it is very\nfruitlessly, and very perniciously occupied in attempting to give it a\nsingle touch of amendment.\n\nThe form under which Christianity now presents itself as an object of\nstudy does, in a much greater degree, discourage and prevent speculation\nand novelty, than it did in the early ages; and in fact, if all the\nvarieties of opinion which have appeared during the eighteen centuries\nof church history are numbered, a large majority of them will be found\nto belong to the first three centuries, and to the _eastern_ church.\nThat is to say, to the period when doctors of theology, possessing the\nrule of faiths in their vernacular tongue, had no other intellectual\nemployment than that either of inventing novelties of doctrine, or of\nrefuting them. Other causes may, no doubt, fairly be alleged as having\nhad influence in quickening that prodigious efflorescence of heretical\ndoctrine which infected the whole atmosphere of Christianity, in the\neast, during the second and third centuries, and at a time when the\nwestern church maintained, in a good degree, the simplicity of\nScriptural faith; but the cause above-mentioned ought not to be ranked\namong the least efficient.\n\nBut theology in modern times offers an unbounded field of toil to the\nstudent;\u2014the toil of mere acquisition, and of critical research; for a\nfamiliar knowledge of three languages, at least, is indispensable to\nevery man who would take respectable rank as a teacher of Christianity;\nespecially to every one who aspires to distinction in his order; and\nsome acquaintance with two or three other languages, is also an object\nof reasonable ambition to the theological student. And moreover, an\naccomplished expounder of Scripture must be well versed in profane and\nchurch history; nor may he be entirely ignorant of even the abstract and\nphysical sciences. These multifarious pursuits, which are to be acquired\ncompatibly with the discharge of the public duties of the pastoral\noffice, assuredly furnish employment enough for the most active and the\nmost industrious mind long beyond the period of college initiation. Nor\nare we to consider merely the natural influence produced upon the\nintellectual habits by these employments, in preventing that\ndiscursiveness of the inventive faculties which is a principal source of\nheresy; for its quality, not less than its quantity, is decidedly\ncorrective of the propensity to generate novelties of opinion.\n\nEvery one who has made the experiment well knows that the toils of\nlearned acquisition have a direct tendency to impair the freshness and\nforce of the intellectual constitution, to chill and cloud the\nimagination, and to break the elasticity of the inventive faculty; if\nnot to blunt the keenness of the powers of analysis. Thus they indispose\nthe mind to the wantonness of speculation, and impart to it rather the\ntimidity, the acquiescence, the patience, which are proper to the\nsubmissive exposition of an authoritative rule of faith. Biblical\nlearning, therefore, not only serves directly to dispel errors of\nopinion by throwing open the true sense of Scripture; but it contains\nwithin itself what might be termed a _physical_ preventive against\nheresy, which, if it be not always efficacious, is perceptibly\noperative. Nothing then can be more desirable than that public opinion\nshould continue, as it now does, to demand erudition from the teachers\nof religion.\n\nNevertheless, when a large class of men is professionally devoted to the\nstudy of theology, there will not be wanting some whose mental\nconformation (not to mention motives which are foreign to our subject)\nimpels them to abandon the modest path of exposition, and to seek,\nwithin the precincts of religion, for the gratifications that accompany\nabstruse speculation, discovery, invention, exaggeration, and paradox.\nAll these pleasures of a morbid or misdirected intellectual activity may\nbe obtained in the regions of theology, not less than in those of\nmathematical and physical science, if once the restraints of a religious\nand heartfelt reverence for the authority of the word of God are\ndiscarded. The principal heresies that have disturbed the church, may,\nno doubt, fairly be attributed to motives springing from the pride or\nperverse dispositions of the human heart; but often a mere intellectual\nenthusiasm has been the real source of false doctrine.\n\nErrors generated in this manner possess, commonly, some aspect of beauty\nor of greatness, or of philosophical simplicity, to recommend them; for\nas they were framed amid a pleasurable excitement of the mind, so they\nwill have power to convey a kindred delight to others. And such\nexorbitances of doctrine, when advanced by men of powerful or richly\nfurnished minds, conceal their deformity and evil tendency beneath the\nattractions of intelligence. But the very same extravagances and showy\nparadoxes, when caught up by inferior spirits, presently lose their\ngarb, not only of beauty, but of decency, and show themselves in the\nunpleasing bareness of error. The mischief of heresy becomes often far\nmore active and conspicuous in second hands than it was in those of\nits authors; and the reason is that it is usually the child of\nintellectualists\u2014an inoffensive order of men: but no sooner has it been\nbrought forth and reared, than it joins itself, as by instinct, to minds\nof vulgar quality, and in that society soon learns the dialect of\nimpiety and licentiousness. The heresiarch, though he may be more\nblameworthy, is often much less audacious, and less corrupted, than his\nfollowers; for he, perhaps, is only an enthusiast; they have become\nfanatics.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIn like manner as the passion for travel impels a man to perambulate the\nearth, and then makes him sigh to think that he has not other continents\nto explore, so the constitutional enthusiasm of speculation urges its\nvictims to traverse the entire circuit of opinions: and even then leaves\nhim insatiate of novelty. It is not caprice, much less is it the\nexcessive solicitude of an honest mind, always inquiring for truth; but\nrather the impetus of a too highly-wrought intellectual activity, which\ncarries the heretic onward and onward, from system to system, blazing as\nhe goes, until there remains no form of flagrant error with which he has\nnot scared the sober world. Then, though reason may have forgotten all\nconsistency, pride has a better memory; and as this passion forbids his\nreturn to the truths he has so often denounced, and denounced from all\npoints of his various course, nothing remains for him, when the season\nof exhaustion arrives, but to go off into the dark void of infidelity.\n\nThe sad story has been often realized. In the conformation of the\nheretic by temperament, there is more of intellectual mobility than of\nstrength: a ready perception of analogies gives him both facility and\nfelicity in collecting proofs, or rather illustrations in support of\nwhatever opinion he may adopt. So copious are the materials of\nconjectural argument which crowd upon him, and so nice is his tact of\nselection, and so quick his skill of arrangement, that ere dull sobriety\nhas gathered up its weapons, he has reared a most imposing front of\ndefence. Pleased, and even surprised, with his own work, he now\nconfidently maintains a position which at first he scarcely thought to\nbe seriously tenable. Having convinced himself of the certainty of the\nnew truth, and implicated his vanity in its support, deeper motives\nstimulate the activity of the reasoning and inventive faculties; and he\npresently piles demonstration upon demonstration, to a most amazing\nheight, until it becomes, in his honest opinion, sheer infatuation to\ndoubt. In this state of mind, of what value are the opinions of teachers\nand of elders? Of what weight the belief of the catholic church in all\nages? They are nothing to be accounted of; there seems even a glory and\na heroism, as well as a duty, in spurning the fallible authority of man:\nmodesty, caution, hesitation, are treasons against conscience and heaven!\n\nThe young heresiarch, we will suppose to have spent the earliest season\nof life, while yet the ingenuousness of youth remained unimpaired, in\nthe pursuits of literature or science, and to have been ignorant of\nChristianity otherwise than as a system of forms and offices. But the\nmoment of awakening arrives; some appalling accident or piercing sorrow\nsets the interests of time in abeyance, and opens upon the soul the vast\nobjects of immortality. Or the eloquence of a preacher may have effected\nthe change. In these first moments of a new life, the great and common\ndoctrines of religion, perceived in the freshness of novelty, afford\nscope enough to the ardor of the spirit; and perhaps, also, a new\nsentiment of submission quells, in some measure, that ardor: the craving\nof the mind does not yet need heresy; truth has stimulus enough; and\neven after truth has become somewhat vapid, the restraints of connection\nand friendship have force to retain the convert three years, or five, in\nthe bosom of humility. But the first accidental contact with doctrinal\nparadox kindles the constitutional passion, and rouses the slumbering\nfaculties to the full activity of adult vigor; contention ensues; malign\nsentiments, although perhaps foreign to the temper, are engendered, and\nthese impart gloom to mysticism, and add rancor to extravagance. And\nnow, no dogma that is obnoxious, terrific, intolerant, schismatical,\nfails to be, in its turn, avowed by the delirious bigot, who burns with\nambition to render himself the enemy\u2014not so much of the world, as of the\nchurch.\n\nBut will even the last extravagance of false doctrine allay the diseased\ncravings of the brain? Not unless that physical inertness which, towards\nthe middle period of life, sometimes effects a cure of folly, or perhaps\nsome motive of secular interest, supervenes. Otherwise a progression\nmust take place, or a retrogression; and when the heart is sick and\nfaint from the exhaustion of over-activity, and when the whispers of\nconscience have long ceased to be heard, and when the emotions of\ngenuine piety have become painfully strange to the soul, nothing is so\nprobable as an almost sudden plunge from the pinnacle of high belief,\ninto the bottomless gulf of universal scepticism. A lamentable\ncatastrophe of this kind, and which is only the natural issue of an\nintellectual enthusiasm, would, no doubt, much oftener take place than\nit does, if slender reasons of worldly prudence were not usually found\nto be of firmer texture than all the logic of theology.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nA chronic intellectual enthusiasm, when it becomes the source of heresy,\nmost frequently betakes itself to those exaggerations of Christian\ndoctrine which pass under the general designation of Antinomianism;\u2014not\nthe Antinomianism of workshops, which is a corruption of Christianity\nconcocted by mercenary teachers expressly to give license to the\nsensualities of those by whom they are salaried; but the Antinomianism\nof the closet, which is a translation into Christian phraseology of the\nancient stoicism. The alleged relationship consists, not so much in the\nsimilar abuse which is made in both systems of the doctrine of\nnecessity, but in the leading intention of both; which is to inclose the\nhuman mind in a perfect envelop of abstractions, such as may effectively\ndefend it from the importunate sense of responsibility, or obligation,\nand such as shall render him who wears it a passive spectator of his own\ndestinies. The doctrine of fate was seized upon by ancient sophists, and\nis taken up by the Antinomian, because, better than any other principle,\nit serves the purposes of this peculiar species of illusory delectation.\nYet the Christian theorist has some signal advantages over his ancestor.\nFor example: the egregious absurdities of the ancient philosophist met\nhim on every walk of life, and stood in the way of constant collision\nwith the common sense of mankind: and thus the sage, in spite of his\ngravity and self-command, could hardly pass a day in public without\nbeing put to shame by some glaring proof of practical inconsistency; for\nas often as he spoke or acted like other men, as often as he made it\nevident that he did not really think himself a statue or a phantom, he\ngave the lie direct to the fooleries of his scholastic profession.\n\nBut the modern stoic, while, by a _sinister_ inference from his\ndoctrine, he takes large leave of indulgence to the flesh (an indulgence\nwhich he uses or not, as his temperament may determine) and so borrows\nthe practical part of Epicureanism, transfers his egregious dogmas to\nthe unseen world, where they come not at all in contact with common\nsense. In the vast unknown of an eternity on both sides of time, he\nfinds range enough, and immunity, for even the most enormous paradoxes\nwhich ingenuity can devise, or sophistry defend. Besides, the\nargumentative resources of the modern are incomparably more copious and\nvarious and tangible than those of the ancient wrangler; for the latter\ncould only fall back, ever and again, upon the same abstractions; but\nthe former may take position on any part of a very wide frontier; for\nhaving so large and multifarious a volume as the Scriptures in his hand,\nand having multiplied the argumentative value of every sentence it\ncontains almost indefinitely by adopting the rule of Origen and the\nRabbis, that the whole of Scripture is mystical, and may bear every\nsense that can be found in it, he is at once secure from the possibility\nof being confuted, and revels in an unbounded opulence of proof and\nillustration in support of his positions. To the sober interpreter, the\nBible is one book; but to the Antinomian it is as a hundred volumes.\n\nWith a field so wide, and means so inexhaustible, the Christian theorist\nlives in a paradise of speculation; and no revolution to which human\nnature is liable can be less probable than that which must take place\nbefore he abandons his world of factitious happiness. The dreamer must\nfeel that sin is a substantial ill, in which himself is fatally\nimplicated, and not a mere abstraction to be discoursed of; he must\nlearn that the righteous God deals with mankind not fantastically, but\non terms adapted to the intellectual and moral conformation of that\nhuman nature, of which he is the author; and he must know that salvation\nis a deliverance, in which man is an agent, not less than a recipient.\n\nIt belongs not at all to our subject to attempt a confutation of this,\nthe most strange of the many corruptions which Christianity has\nundergone; our part is merely to exhibit against the system the charge\nof delusion or enthusiasm; and this charge needs no other proof than the\nplain statement that, whereas Christianity recognizes the actual\nmechanism of human nature, and appeals to the moral sentiments, and\nurges motives of every class, and labors to enhance the sense\nof responsibility, and authenticates the voice of conscience,\nAntinomianism, with indurated arrogance, spurns all such sentiments, and\nsubstitutes nothing in their room but bare speculations; and these\nspeculations are all of a kind to cherish the selfish deliriums of\nluxurious contemplation. But to take a course like this, is, whatever\nmay be the subject in question, the part of an enthusiast. Whoever, in\nany such manner, cuts himself off from the common sympathies of our\nnature, and makes idiot sport of the energies of moral action, and has\nrecourse, either to a jargon of sophistries, or to trivial evasions,\nwhen other men act upon the intuitions of good sense, and rebuts every\nidea that does not minister gratification either to fancy or to\nappetite, such a man must be called an enthusiast, even though he were\nat the same time\u2014if that were possible\u2014a saint.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nWe have spoken of the enthusiasm of mysticism. But there is also an\nenthusiasm of simplification. The lowest intellectual temperature, not\nless than the highest, admits extravagance, and sometimes even admits it\nmore; for warmth and movement are less unnatural in the world of matter\nor of mind, than congelation: what so grotesque as the coruscations of\nfrost? If the reasoning faculty had not its imaginative impulse, the\nsciences would never have moved a step in advance of the mechanic arts;\nmuch less would the high theorems of pure mathematics, or the abstruse\nprinciples of metaphysics, have been known to mankind. But if this\nnatural and useful impulse be irregular and excessive, it becomes the\nspring of errors. Yet the perfection of science, and its general\ndiffusion in modern times, operate so effectually to keep in check that\npropensity to absurd speculation of which the elements are always in\nexistence, that if we are in search of specimens of this species of\nintellectual disease, we must expect to meet with them only without the\npale of education, and among the self-taught philosophers of workshops,\nwho sometimes amuse the hour of stolen leisure in digesting systems of\nthe universe, other than the one which is demonstrated in our\nuniversities.\n\nDriven from the enclosures where the demonstrable sciences hold empire,\nthe enthusiasts of speculation turn off upon ground where there is more\nscope, more obscurity, more license, and less of the stern and instant\nmagistracy of right reason. Some give themselves to politics, some to\npolitical economy, and some to theology; and whatever they severally\nmeet with that is in its nature, or that has become concrete, complex,\nor multifariously involved, they seize upon with a hungry avidity. The\ndisease of the brain has settled upon the faculty of analysis; all\nthings compound must therefore be severed, and not only be severed but\nleft in disunion. It cannot but happen that, in these zealous labors of\ndissolution, some happy strokes must now and then fall upon errors which\nwiser men have either not observed, or have spared: mankind owes\ntherefore a petty debt of gratitude to such speculatists for having\nremoved a few excrescences from ancient systems. But these trivial\nsuccesses, which are hailed with much applause by the vulgar, who\ndelight in witnessing any kind of destruction, and by the splenetic, who\nbelieve themselves to gain whatever is torn from others, inspire the\nheroes of reform with unbounded hopes of effecting universal\nrevolutions; and they actually become inflated to so high a degree of\npresumption, that, at a time when all the great questions which can\noccupy the human mind have been thoroughly discussed, and discussed with\nevery advantage of liberty, of learning, and of ability, they are not\nashamed to adopt a style of speaking as if they thought themselves\nmorning stars on the verge of the dark ages, destined to usher in the\ntardy splendors of true philosophy upon a benighted world!\n\n\u2014Or of true religion: as if the Christian doctrine, in its most\nessential principles, had become extinct, even in the days of the\napostles, and had not merely remained under the bushel of superstition\nduring the ages of religious despotism, but long after the chains of\nthat despotism were broken, and after the human mind, with all the vigor\nand intensity of renovated intelligence and renovated piety had given\nits utmost force, and its utmost diligence to the exposition of the\ncanon of faith. Of what sort, it might be asked, were this canon, if its\nmeaning on the most important points might, age after age, be utterly\nmisunderstood by ninety-nine learned, honest, and unshackled men,\nand be perceived only by the one? Yet this is the supposition of\nsimplificators, who from the impulse of a faulty cerebral conformation,\nmust needs disbelieve, because theology would otherwise afford them no\nintellectual exercise.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIt is a common notion, incessantly repeated, and seldom sifted, that\ndiversity of opinion, on even the cardinal points of Christian faith, is\nan inevitable and a permanent evil, springing, and always to spring,\nfrom the diversity of men's dispositions and intellectual faculties.\nCertainly no other expectation could be entertained if Christian\ntheology were what moral philosophy was among the sophists of ancient\nAthens\u2014a system of abstractions, owning subjection to no authority. But\nthis is not the fact; and though hitherto the ultimate authority has\nbeen much abused or spurned, the re-establishment of its power on fixed\nand well understood principles seems to be far from an improbable event.\nWe say more, that an actual progression towards so happy a revolution is\nperceptible in our own times. We do not for a moment forget that a\nheartfelt acquiescence in the doctrines of Scripture must ever be the\nresult of a divine influence, and is not to be effected by the same\nmeans which produce uniformity of opinion on matters of science. But\nwhile we anticipate, on grounds of strong hope, a time of refreshing\nfrom above, which shall subdue the depraved repugnances of the human\nmind, we may also anticipate, on grounds of common reasoning, a natural\nprocess of reform in theology\u2014considered as a science, which shall place\nthe intrinsic incoherence of heresy in the broad light of day,\nhenceforward to be contemned and avoided.\n\nThe fields of error have been fully reaped and gleaned; nor shall aught\nthat is new spring up on that field, the whole botany of which is\nalready known and classified. It is only of late that a fair, competent,\nand elaborate discussion of all the principal questions of theology has\ntaken place; and the result of this discussion waits now to be\nmanifested by some new movement of the human mind. Great and happy\nrevolutions usually stand ready and latent for a time until accident\nbrings them forward. Such a change and renovation we believe to be at\nthe door of the Christian Church. The ground of controversy has\ncontracted itself daily during the last half century; the grotesque and\nmany-colored forms of ancient heresy have disappeared, and the existing\ndifferences of opinion (some of which are indeed of vital consequence)\nall draw round a single controversy, the final decision of which it is\nhard to believe shall long be deferred; for the minds of men are\npressing towards it with an unusual intentness. This great question\nrelates to the authority of Holy Scripture; and the professedly\nChristian world is divided upon it into three parties, comprehending all\nsmaller varieties of opinion.\n\nThe first of these parties, constituted of the Romish Church, and its\ndisguised favorers, affirms the subordination of the authority of\nScripture to that of tradition and the Church. This is a doctrine of\nslavery and of ignorance, which the mere progress of knowledge and of\ncivil liberty must overthrow, if it be not first exploded by other\nmeans. The second party comprises the sceptical sects of the Protestant\nworld, which agree in affirming the subordination of Scripture to the\ndogmas of natural theology; in other words to every man's notion of what\nreligion _ought_ to be. These sects, having no barrier between\nthemselves and pure deism, are continually dwindling by desertions to\ninfidelity; nor will they be able to hold their slippery footing on the\nedge of Christianity a day after a general revival of serious piety has\ntaken place.\n\nThe third party, comprehending the great majority of the Protestant\nbody, bows reverently, and implicitly, and with intelligent conviction,\nto the absolute authority of the word of God, and knows of nothing in\ntheology that is not affirmed, or fairly implied, therein. The\ndifferences existing within this party, how much soever they may be\nexaggerated by bigots, will vanish as the mists of the morning under the\nbrightness of the sun, whenever a refreshment of pious feeling descends\nupon the Church. They consist, in part, of mere misunderstandings of\nabstract phrases, unknown to the language of Scripture; in part they\nhinge upon political constitutions, of which so much as is substantially\nevil is by no means of desperate inveteracy: in part these differences\nare constituted of nothing better than the lumber of antiquity, the\nworthless relics of forgotten janglings handed down from father to son,\nbut now, by so many transmissions, worn away to an extreme slenderness,\nand quite ready to crumble into the dust of everlasting forgetfulness.\nSurely men are not always so to remain children in understanding, that\nthe less shall be preferred to the greater; nor shall it always be that\nthe substantial evils of schism are perpetuated and vindicated on the\nground of obscure historical questions, fit only to amuse the idle hours\nof the antiquary. This trifling with things sacred must come to its end,\nand the great law of love must triumph, and the Christian Church\nhenceforward have \"one Lord, one faith, one baptism.\"\n\n\n\n\nSECTION V.\n\nTHE ENTHUSIASM OF PROPHETIC INTERPRETATION.\n\n\nDisappointment is perhaps the most frequent of all the occasional causes\nof insanity; but the sudden kindling of hope sometimes produces the same\nlamentable effect. Yet before this emotion, congenial as it is to the\nhuman mind, can exert so fatal an influence, the expected good must be\nof immeasurable magnitude, and must appear in the light of the strongest\nprobability; nor must even the vagueness of a distant futurity\nintervene; otherwise, tho swellings of desire and joy would be quelled,\nand reason might maintain its seat. On this principle perhaps it is,\nthat the vast and highly exciting hope of immortal life very rarely,\neven in susceptible minds, generates that kind of emotion which brings\nwith it the hazard of mental derangement. Religious madness, when it\noccurs, is most often the madness of despondency. But if the glories of\nheaven might, by any means, and in contravention of the established\norder of things, be brought out from the dimness and concealment of the\nunseen world, and be placed ostensibly on this side of the darkness and\ncoldness of death, and be linked with objects familiarly known, they\nmight then press so forcibly upon the passion of hope, and so inflame\nexcitable imaginations, that real insanity, or an approach towards it,\nwould probably, in frequent instances, be the consequence.\n\nA provision against mischiefs of this kind is evidently contained in the\nextreme reserve of the Scriptures on all subjects connected with the\nunseen world. This reserve is so singular, and so extraordinary, seeing\nthat the Jewish poets, prophets and preachers, were Asiatics, that it\naffords no trivial proof of the divine origination of the books: an\nintelligent advocate of the Bible would choose to rest an argument\nrather upon the paucity of its discoveries, than upon their plenitude.\n\nBut now a confident and dogmatical interpretation of those prophecies\nthat are supposed to be on the eve of fulfilment, has manifestly a\ntendency thus to bring forth the wonders of the unseen world, and to\nconnect them in sensible contact with the familiar objects and events of\nthe present state. And such interpretations may be held with so full and\noverwhelming a persuasion of their truth, that heaven and its splendors\nmay seem to stand at the door of our very homes: to-morrow, perhaps, the\nhastening crisis of the nations shall lift the veil which so long has\nhidden the brightness of the eternal throne from mortal eyes: each turn\nof public affairs, a war, a truce, a conspiracy, a royal marriage, may\nbe the immediate precursor of that new era, wherein it shall no longer\nbe true, as heretofore, that \"the things eternal are unseen.\"\n\nWhen an opinion, or, we should rather say, a persuasion of this imposing\nkind is entertained by a mind of more mobility than strength, and when\nit has acquired form, and consistency, and definiteness, by being long\nand incessantly the object of contemplation, it may easily gain\nexclusive possession of the mind: and a state of exclusive occupation of\nthe thoughts by a single subject, if it be not real madness, differs\nlittle from it; for a man can hardly be called sane who is mastered by\none set of ideas, and who has lost the will or the power to break up the\ncontinuity of his musings.\n\nWhether or not this explanation be just, it is matter of fact that no\nspecies of enthusiasm has carried its victims nearer to the brink of\ninsanity than that which originates in the interpretation of unfulfilled\nprophecy. It need not be asked whether there is not some capital error\non the side of many who have given themselves to this study; for the\nindications of pitiable delusion have been of a kind not at all\nambiguous. There must be present some lurking mischief when the study of\nany part of Holy Scripture issues in extravagance of conduct, and in an\noffensive turgidness of language, and produces\u2014not quietness and peace,\nbut a wild and quaking looking-for of impending wonders. There must be a\nfault of principle, if the demeanor of Christians be such that those who\noccupy the place of the unlearned are excused when they say \"Ye are mad.\"\n\nThat some peculiar danger haunts this region of Biblical inquiry is\nestablished by a double proof; for not only have men of exorbitant\nimaginations and feeble judgment rushed towards it instinctively, and\nwith the eagerness of infatuation; but sometimes the soundest\nunderstandings have lost, in these inquiries, their wonted discretion.\nAt several periods of church history, and again in our own times,\nmultitudes have drunk to intoxication of the phial of prophetic\ninterpretation; and, amid imagined peals of the mystic thunder, have\nbecome deaf to the voice both of common sense and of duty. The piety of\nsuch persons\u2014if piety it may be called\u2014has made them hunger and thirst,\nnor for \"the bread and water of life,\" but for the news of the political\nworld. In such instances it may be confidently affirmed, previously to a\nhearing of the argument, that, even if the interpretation were true, it\nhas become entangled with some knotted thread of error.\n\nThe proper remedy for evils of this kind is not to be found in the timid\nor overbearing prohibitions of those who endeavor to prevent the\nmischief by interdicting inquiry; and who would make it a sin or a folly\nfor a Christian to ask the meaning of certain portions of Scripture.\nCautions and restrictions of this nature are incompatible with the\nprinciple of Protestantism, as well as unnecessary, arrogant, and\nunavailing. If indeed man possessed any means of intrusion upon the\nmysteries of the upper world, or upon the secrets of futurity, there\nmight be room to reprehend the audacity of those who should attempt to\nknow by force or by importunity of research what has not been revealed.\nBut when the unseen and the future are, by the spontaneous grace of\nHeaven, in part set open, and when a message which might have been\nwithheld, has been sent to earth, encircled with a benediction like\nthis\u2014\"Blessed are they that hear, and keep these words:\" then it may\nmost safely be concluded that whatever is not marked with the seal of\nprohibition, is open to scrutiny. In truth, there is something\nincongruous in the notion of a _revelation_ enveloped in menace and\nrestriction. But be this as it may, it is certain that whoever would\nshut up the Scriptures, in whole or in part, from his fellow disciples,\nor who affirms it to be unsafe or unwise to study such and such\npassages, is bound to show reasons of the most convincing kind for the\nexclusion. \"What God has joined, let not man put asunder;\" but he has\nconnected his blessing, comprehensively, with the study of his word. It\nshould be left to the Romish Church to employ that faulty argument of\ncaptious arrogance, which prohibits the use of whatever may be abused.\nUnless, then, it can be shown that a divine interdiction encloses the\nprophetic portions of Scripture, it must be deemed an ill-judged and\nirreligious, though perhaps well-intended usurpation, in any one who\nassumes to plant his little rod of obstruction across the highway of\nRevelation.\n\nMoreover, prohibitions of this kind are futile, because impossible to be\nobserved. Every one admits that the study of those prophecies which have\nalready received their accomplishment is a matter of high importance and\npositive duty; \"we have a sure word of prophecy, to which we do well to\ntake heed.\" But how soon, in attempting to discharge this duty, are we\nentangled in a snare, if indeed the study of unfulfilled prophecy be in\nitself improper; for many of the prophecies, and those especially which\nare the most definite, and the most intelligible, stretch themselves\nacross the wide gulf of time, and rest upon points intervening between\nthe days of the seer and the hour when the mystery of providence shall\nbe finished: and these comprehensive predictions, instead of tracking\ntheir way by equal and measured intervals through the course of ages,\ntraverse vast spaces unmarked: and with a sudden bound, parting from an\nage now long gone by, attain at once the last period of the human\neconomy. These abrupt transitions create obscurities which must either\nshut up the whole prophecy from inquiry, or necessitate a scrutiny of\nthe whole; for at a first perusal, and without the guidance of learned\ninvestigation, who shall venture to place his finger on the syllable\nwhich forms the boundary between the past and the future, and which\nconstitutes the limit between duty and presumption? A prediction which\nmay seem to belong to futurity, will, perhaps, on better information be\nfound to regard the past; or the reverse. These extensive prophecies,\nand such are those of Daniel and of John, must then either be shunned\naltogether from the fear of trespassing on forbidden ground, or they\nmust be studied entire, in dependence upon other means than voluntary\nignorance for avoiding presumption and enthusiasm. Whoever would\ndischarge for others the difficult office of marking, throughout the\nScriptures, the boundaries of lawful investigation, must himself first\nhave committed the supposed trespass upon the regions of unfulfilled\nprophecy. We conclude, therefore, that a separation which no one can\neffect, is not really needed.\n\nIt is surely a mistaken caution which says\u2014of the Apocalypse, for\nexample\u2014it is a dark portion of Scripture, and better let alone than\nexplored. Very unhappy consequences are involved in such an\ninterdiction. This magnificent book is introduced to the regards of the\nChurch as a discovery of things that must shortly come to pass. Now we\nmust either believe that the \u1f10\u03bd \u03c4\u03ac\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9, was intended to indicate a period\nof eighteen hundred years (perhaps a much longer term) or admit that the\ninitial, and probably the larger portions of the prophecy have already\nreceived their seal of verification from history, and come therefore\nfairly within the scope of even the most scrupulous rule of inquiry, and\nin fact should now form part of the standing evidence of the truth of\nChristianity. To think less than this seems to imply a very dangerous\ninference. If a part of this prophecy be actually accomplished; and if\nyet it be impracticable to assign the predictions to the events, will\nnot one at least of the great purposes for which, as we are taught,\nprophecy was given, have been rather defeated than served? There is not\nperhaps a fulfilled prophecy on the page of inspiration which learned\ningenuity might not plausibly allege to have been hitherto altogether\nmisunderstood, and erroneously supposed to relate to such or such\nevents. It is a matter of course that, when a multitude of minds\nvariously influenced, and too often influenced by a wish to establish a\ntheory upon which literary ambition may build its pretensions, are\nemployed in the exposition of mystic predictions, _every_ scheme to\nwhich any appearance of probability can be given, should actually find\nan advocate. And then those who wish to discourage inquiry may\nvauntingly say\u2014See how various and how opposite are the opinions of\ninterpreters! Meanwhile, it may be perfectly true, that among these\nvarious interpretations there may be _one_ which, though not altogether\nunexceptionable, or wholly free from difficulties, will firmly secure\nthe approval of every unprejudiced and intelligent inquirer.\n\nSome very sober Christians, while endeavoring by all means to secure the\nyoung against the mania of prophetical interpretation, seem little aware\nof how far they are treading upon the very path which infidelity\nfrequents. To advise a diligent study of prophecy (to those who have the\nleisure and learning requisite) would it not be far safer, than to shrug\nthe shoulders in sage alarm, and to say\u2014Prophecy! oh, let it alone!\n\nThe ancient Church received no cautions against a too eager scrutiny of\nthe great prophecy left to excite its hope: on the contrary, the pious\nwere \"divinely moved\" to search what might be the purport and season of\nthe revelation made by the \"Spirit of Christ\" to the prophets; and\nthough these predictions did in fact give occasion to the delusions of\n\"many deceivers,\" and though they were greatly misunderstood, even by\nthe most pious and the best informed of the Jewish people; yet did not\nthe foreknowledge of these mischiefs and errors call for any such\nrestrictions upon the spirit of inquiry as those wherewith some persons\nare now fain to hedge about the Scriptures.\n\nTo the Christian Church the second coming of Christ stands where his\nfirst coming stood to the Jewish, namely, in the very centre of the\nfield of prophetic light; and a participation in the glories \"then to be\nrevealed\" is even limited to those who in every age are devoutly\n\"looking for him.\" It is true that this doctrine of the second coming of\nChrist has, like that of his first, wrought strongly upon enthusiastic\nminds, and been the occasion of some pernicious delusions; yet, for the\ncorrection of these incidental evils, we must look to other means than\nto any existing cautions given to the Church in the Scriptures against a\ntoo earnest longing for the promised advent of her King. To snatch this\ngreat promise from Scripture in hasty fear, and then to close the book\nlest we should see more than it is intended we should know, is not our\npart. On the contrary, it is chiefly from a diligent and comprehensive\nstudy of the terms of the great unfulfilled prophecy of Scripture, that\na preservative against delusion is to be gathered. To check assiduous\nresearches by cautions which the humble may respect, but which the\npresumptuous will certainly contemn, is to abandon the leading truth of\nRevelation to the uncorrected wantonness of fanaticism.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIt is often not so much the instrinsic qualities of an opinion, as the\nunwarrantable confidence with which it is held, that generates\nenthusiasm. Persuade the dogmatist to be modest, as every Christian\nundoubtedly ought who thinks himself compelled to dissent from the\ncommon belief of the Church; persuade him to give respectful attention\nto the argument of an opponent; in a word, to surrender the topmost\npoint of his assurance, and presently the high temperature of his\nfeelings will come down near to the level of sobriety. To doubt after\nhearing of sufficient evidence, and to dogmatize where proof is\nconfessedly imperfect, are alike the indications of infirmity of\njudgment, if not of perversity of temper; and these great faults, which\nnever predominate in the character apart from the indulgence of unholy\npassions, seem often to be judicially visited with a hopeless imbecility\nof the reasoning faculties. Thus, while the sceptic becomes, in course\nof time, incapable of retaining his hold even of the most certain\ntruths, the dogmatist, on the other hand, loses all power of suspending\nfor a moment his decisions; and, as a feather and a ball of lead descend\nwith the same velocity when dropped in a vacuum, so do all propositions,\nwhether loaded with a weight of evidence or not, instantly reach, in his\nunderstanding, the firm ground of absolute assurance.\n\nInstead, therefore, of enhancing the arrogance of the half-insane\ninterpreter of prophecy by inviting him to display the blazing front of\nhis argument, it may be better, if it can be done, to demonstrate that\neven though it should appear that his opinion carries a large balance of\nprobability, there is still a _special_ and very peculiar impropriety in\nthe tone of dogmatism which, on this particular subject, he assumes; so\nthat the error of the general Church, if it be an error, is actually\nless than the fault of him who, in this temper, may boast that he has\ntruth on his side. Such a case of special impropriety may, in this\ninstance, very clearly be made out.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe language of prophecy is either common or mystical. Predictions\ndelivered in the style of common discourse, and free from symbols as\nthey are little liable to diversities of explication, do not often tempt\nthe ingenuity of visionaries: they may, therefore, be excluded from\nconsideration in the present instance. Mystic prophecy, or future\nhistory written in symbols, under guidance of the divine foreknowledge,\nin being committed to the custody and perusal of mankind, must be\npresumed to conform itself to the laws of that particular species of\ncomposition to which it bears the nearest analogy. For if the Divine\nBeing condescends at all to hold intercourse with men, it cannot be\ndoubted that he will do so, not only in a language known to them, but in\na manner perfectly accordant to the rules and proprieties of the medium\nhe designs to employ. Now the prophecies in question not merely belong\nto the general class of symbolic writing, but there is to be discerned\nin them, very plainly, the specific style of the enigma, which, in early\nages, was a usual mode of embodying the most important and serious\ntruths. In the enigma, the principal subject is, by some ingenuity of\ndefinition, and by some ambiguity of description, at once held forth and\nconcealed. The law by which it is constructed demands, that while there\nis given, under a guise, some special mark which shall prevent the\npossibility of doubt when once the substance signified is seen, that\nsubstance shall be so artfully depicted that the description, though it\nbe a true representation, may admit of more than one explication. There\ncan be no genuine and fair enigma in which these conditions are not\ncomplied with. For if no special mark be given, the true solution must\nwant the means of vindicating its exclusive propriety, when the\nsubstance signified is declared; a vague riddle is none. Or if the\nspecial mark be not disguised, if no varnishing opacity be spread over\nit, the substance is manifested at once, and the enigma nullified.\nAgain, if the general description is not so contrived as to admit of\nseveral plausible hypotheses, then also the whole intention of the\ndevice is destroyed, and the special mark rendered useless; for what\nneed can there be of an infallible indicator which is to come in as\narbiter among a number of competing solutions, if, in fact, no room be\nleft for diversity of interpretation?\n\nWhenever, therefore, among mystic enunciations we can detect the\nexistence of some couched and specific note of identification, we may\nmost certainly conclude that it is placed there to serve a future\npurpose of discrimination among several admissible modes of solution; or\nin other words, that the enigma is designedly so framed as to tempt and\nto allow a diversity of hypothetical explanations. An enigmatical or\nsymbolical enunciation, conformed to these essential rules, serves the\nthreefold purpose of presenting a blind to the incurious, a trap to the\ndogmatical, and an exercise of modesty, of patience, and of sagacity to\nthe wise. And this seems to be the result intended, and actually\naccomplished by the symbolical prophecies of Scripture.\n\nWhen the subject of enigma already stands within the range of our\nknowledge, and requires only to be singled out, the process of solution\nis simple. The several suppositions that seem to comport with the\nambiguous description are to be brought together; and then the special\nmark must be applied to each in turn, until such a precise and\nconvincing correspondence is discovered as at once strips the false\nsolutions of all their pretensions: if the enigma be fairly constructed,\nthis method of induction will never fail of success. Thus, with the page\nof history before us, those prophecies of Daniel, for example, which\nrelate to the invasion of Greece by the Persians, to the subsequent\noverthrow of the Persian monarchy by the Macedonians, to the division of\nthe conquests of Alexander, to the spread of the Roman arms, and to the\nsubdivision of the Roman Empire, are interpreted without hazard of\nerror, and with a completeness and a speciality of coincidence, that\ncarries a conviction of the divine dictation of those prophecies to\nevery honest mind.\n\nA course somewhat less gratifying to the eagerness of enthusiastic\nspirits must be pursued, if the subject of the sacred enigma does not\nactually stand within our view; if it rest in a foreign region, as, for\nexample, in the region of futurity. It will by no means follow that a\nsymbolic prediction, which remains unfulfilled, ought not to be made the\nsubject of investigation; for as the description doubtless contains, by\ncondensation, the substance of the unknown reality, and perhaps also\nmuch of its character, it may, even when mingled with erroneous\ninterpretations, serve important purposes in the excitement of pious\nhope. The delivery of these enigmas into the hands of the Church, and\ntheir intricate intermixture with fulfilled prophecies, and their being\neverywhere embossed with attractive lessons of piety and virtue, not to\nmention the explicit invitation to read and study them, may confidently\nbe deemed to convey a full license of examination. Yet in these\ninstances the well-known laws of the peculiar style in which the\npredictions are enveloped, suggest restrictions and cautions which no\nhumble and pious expositor can overlook. The fault of the dogmatist in\nprophecy is then manifest. Is a mystic prediction averred to be\nunfulfilled? then we know, that, by the essential law of its\ncomposition, it is designedly, we might say artfully constructed, so as\nto admit of several, and perhaps of many, plausible interpretations,\nhaving nearly equal claims of probability; and we know, moreover, that\nthe special mark couched amid the symbols, and which in the issue is to\narbitrate among the various solutions, is drawn from some minute\npeculiarity in the surface and complexion of the future substance, and\ntherefore cannot be available for the purpose of discrimination, until\nthat substance, in the shape and color of reality, starts forth into day.\n\nThe expositor, therefore, who presumptuously espouses any one of the\nseveral interpretations of which an enigmatical prophecy is susceptible,\nand who fondly claims for it a positive and exclusive preference, sins\nmost flagrantly against the unalterable laws of the language of which he\nprofesses himself a master. If dogmatism on matters not fully revealed\nbe in all cases blameworthy, it is especially to be condemned in the\nexpositor of enigmatic prophecy; and that, not merely because the events\nso predicted rest under the awful veil of futurity, and exist only in\nthe prescience of the Deity; but because the chosen style of the\ncommunication lays a distinct claim to modesty, and demands suspension\nof judgment.\u2014The use of symbols speaks a design of concealment; and do\nwe suppose that what God has hidden, the sagacity of man shall discover?\nIn issuing the prediction, he does indeed invite the humble, inquiries\nof the Church; and in employing symbols which have a conventional\nmeaning he gives a clew to learned research; and yet, by the combination\nof these symbols in the enigmatic form, an articulate warning is\npresented against all dogmatical confidence of interpretation.\n\nThe adoption of an exclusive theory of exposition will not fail to be\nfollowed by an attempt to attach the special marks of prophecy to every\npassing event; and it is this very attempt which sets enthusiasm in a\nflame; for it belongs, in common, to all religious irregularities that,\nthough mild and harmless while roaming at large among remote or\ninvisible objects they assume a noxious activity the moment that they\nfix their grasp upon things near and tangible. There is scarcely any\ndegree of sobriety of temper which can secure the mind against fanatical\nrestlessness when once the habit has been formed of collating, daily,\nthe newspaper and the prophets; and the man who, with a feeble judgment\nand an excitable imagination, is constantly catching at political\nintelligence\u2014Apocalypse in hand\u2014walks on the verge of insanity, or\nworse, of infidelity. In this feverish state of the feelings, mundane\ninterests, under the guise of faith and hope, occupy the soul to the\nexclusion of \"things unseen and eternal;\" meanwhile, the heart-affecting\nelements of piety and virtue become vapid to the taste, and gradually\nfall into forgetfulness.\n\nThe fault of the dogmatical expositor of prophecy is especially\nmanifested when he assumes to determine the chronology of unfulfilled\npredictions. In the instance of prophetic dates, the different lines of\nconduct suggested by the different styles of the communication, are\nreadily perceived, and cheerfully observed by judicious and modest\ninterpreters. We may take, for illustration, the predicted duration of\nthe captivity of Judah, which was made known by Jeremiah (xxix. 10) in\nthe intelligible terms of common and popular computation: nor could the\nsupposition of a symbolic sense of the words be admitted by any sober\nexpositor. On the authority of this unequivocal prediction, Daniel, as\nthe time spoken of drew near, made confession and supplication in the\nfull assurance of warranted faith. In this confidence there was no\npresumption, for his persuasion rested, not on the assumed validity of\nthis or of that ingenious interpretation of symbols; but upon an\nexplicit declaration which needed only to be read\u2014not expounded.\n\nBut when the beloved seer received from his celestial informant the date\nof _seventy weeks_, which should fix the period of the Messiah's advent\nand preparatory sufferings, the employment of symbolic terms of itself\nannounced the double intention of, at once, revealing the time, and of\nconcealing it. For, as the terms, though mythic, bore a known import,\nthey could not be thought to be absolutely shut up from research; yet,\nas by the mode of their combination they became susceptible of a\nconsiderable diversity of interpretation, the wise and good might, after\nall their diligence, differ in opinion as to the precise moment of\naccomplishment. Thus was devout inquiry at once invited and restrained;\ninvited, because the language of the prediction was not unknown; and\nrestrained, because it still asked for interpretation, and admitted a\ndiversity of opinion. Those pious persons, therefore, who, at the time\nof the Messiah's birth, were \"looking for the consolation of Israel,\"\ncould not, unless favored with personal revelations, affirm \"this is the\nvery year of the expected deliverance;\" for the symbolic chronology\nmight, with an appearance of reason, bear a somewhat different sense.\nYet might such persons, though not perfectly agreed in opinion, lawfully\nand safely join in an exulting hope, that the time spoken of was not far\ndistant, when the son of David should appear.\n\nThe same rule is applicable to the position of the church at the present\nmoment. No one, it may be affirmed, can have given due attention to the\nquestions which have been of late so much agitated, without feeling\ncompelled to acknowledge, that a high degree of probability supports the\nbelief of an approaching extraordinary development of the mystery of\nprovidence towards Christendom, and perhaps, towards the whole family of\nman. That this probability is strong, might be argued from the fact that\nit has wrought a general concurrence of belief among those whose modes\nof thinking on most subjects are extremely dissimilar. Christians, amid\nmany contrarieties of opinion, are, with a tacit or an explicit\nexpectation, looking for movement and progression, to be effected either\nby a quickened energy of existing means, or by the sudden operation of\nnew causes. This probable opinion, if held in the spirit of Christian\nmodesty, affords, under the sanction of the coolest reason, a new and\nstrong excitement to religious hope. He who entertains it may\nexultingly, yet calmly exclaim, \"The night is far spent, the day is at\nhand;\" and this kindling expectation will rouse him to greater diligence\nin every good work, to greater watchfulness against every defilement of\nheart, and frivolity of spirit, and inconsistency of conduct: he will\nstrive with holy wakefulness, to live as the disciple should who is\n\"waiting for his Lord.\" Thus far he can justify the new vivacity of his\nhopes upon the ground of the permanent motives of religion; for he feels\nnothing more than a Christian may well always feel; and the opinion he\nentertains relative to the near accomplishment of ultimate prophecy,\nserves only as an incitement to a state of mind in which he would fain\nbe found, if called suddenly from the present scene. While giving free\nadmission to sentiments of this sort, he knows that though he should be\nmistaken in his theoretical premises, he shall certainly be right in his\npractical inference.\n\nBut if the discreet Christian is tempted or solicited to admit an\nincongruous jumble of political speculations and Christian hopes; if he\nis called upon to detach in any degree, his attention from immediate and\nunquestionable duties, and to fix his meditations on objects that have\nno connection with his personal responsibility; then he will check such\nan intrusion of turbulence and distraction, the tendency of which he\nfeels to be pernicious, by recollecting that his opinion, how probable\nsoever it may seem, is, at the best, nothing more than _one hypothesis_\namong the many, which offer themselves in explanation of an enigmatical\nprediction. To-day this hypothesis pleases him by its plausibility;\nto-morrow he may reject it on better information.\n\nNothing, then, can be much more precise than the line which forms the\nboundary between the legitimate and an enthusiastic feeling on the\nsubject of prophecy. Is a prediction couched in symbol? is it entangled\namong perplexing anachronisms? is it studded with points of special\nreference? We then recognize the hand of Heaven in the art of its\nconstruction; and we know that it is so moulded as to admit and invite\nthe manifold diversities of ingenious explication and that, therefore,\neven the true explication must, until the day of solution, stand\nundistinguished in a crowd of plausible errors. But for a man to\nproclaim himself the champion of a particular hypothesis, and to employ\nit as he might an explicit prediction, is to affront the Spirit of\nprophecy by contemning the chosen style of his announcements. And what\nshall be said of the audacity of one who, with no other commission in\nhis hand than such as any man may please to frame for himself, usurps\nthe awful style of the seer, pronounces the doom of nations, hurls\nthunders at thrones, and worse than this, puts the credit of\nChristianity at pawn in the hand of infidelity, to be lost beyond\nrecovery, if not redeemed on a day specified by the fanatic for the\nverification of his word!\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe agitation which has recently taken place on the subject of prophecy,\nmay, perhaps, ere long, subside, and the church may again acquiesce in\nits old sobrieties of opinion.[3] And yet a different and a better\nresult of the existing controversy seems not altogether improbable; for\nwhen enthusiasm has raved itself into exhaustion, and has received from\ntime the refutation of its precocious hopes; and when, on the other\nside, prosing mediocrity has uttered all its saws, and has fallen back\ninto its own slumber of contented ignorance, then the spirit of research\nand of legitimate curiosity, which no doubt has been diffused among not\na few intelligent students of Scripture, may bring on a calm, learned,\nand productive discussion of the many great questions that belong to the\nundeveloped destiny of man. And it may be believed that the issue of\nsuch discussions will take its place among the means that shall concur\nto usher in a brighter age of Christianity.\n\nNot indeed as if any fundamental principle of religion remained to be\ndiscovered; for the spiritual church has, in every age, possessed the\nsubstance of truth, under the promised teaching of the Spirit of truth.\nBut, obviously, there are many subjects, more or less clearly revealed\nin the Scriptures, upon which serious errors maybe entertained,\nconsistently with genuine, and even exalted piety: they do indeed belong\nto the entire faith of a Christian, but they form no part of its basis;\nthey may be detached or disfigured without great peril to the stability\nof the structure. Almost all opinions relating to the unseen world, and\nto the future providence of God on earth, are of this extrinsic or\nsubordinate character; and, as a matter of fact, pious and cautious men\nhave, on subjects of this kind, held notions so incompatibly dissimilar,\nthat the one or the other must have been utterly erroneous. But the\ndetection of error always opens a vista of hope to the diligence of\ninquiry; and with the mistakes of our predecessors before us for our\nwarning, and with a highly improved state of Biblical learning for our\naid, it may fairly be anticipated that a devout and industrious\nreconsideration of the evidence of Scripture will yet achieve some\nimportant improvements in the opinions of the church on these difficult\nand obscure subjects.\n\nNevertheless, though an expectation of this kind may seem reasonable,\nthere is, on the other hand some ground to imagine that the\naccomplishment of the inscrutable designs of the Divine Providence may\nrequire that the pious should henceforth, as heretofore, continue to\nentertain not only imperfect, but very mistaken notions of the unseen\nand the future worlds. Well-founded hopes and erroneous interpretations\nhave been linked together in the history of the church in all ages, even\nfrom that hour of fallacious exultation when the mother of a murderer\nexclaimed\u2014\"I have gotten the man from the Lord,\" the man who should\n\"break the serpent's head.\" Neither the discharge of present duties, nor\nthe exercise of right affections, nor a substantial preparation for\ntaking a part in the glory that is to be revealed, is perhaps at all\nnecessarily connected with just anticipations of the unknown futurity.\nThus, when the infant wakes into the light of this world, every organ\npresently assumes its destined function: the heaving bosom confesses the\nfitness of the material it inhales to support the new style of\nexistence; and the senses admit the first impressions of the external\nworld with a sort of anticipated familiarity; and though utterly\nuntaught in the scenes upon which it has so suddenly entered, and\ninexperienced in the orders of the place where it must ere long act its\npart, yet it is truly \"meet to be a partaker of the inheritance\" of\nlife. And thus, too, a real meetness for his birth into the future life\nmay belong to the Christian, though he be utterly ignorant of its\ncircumstances and conditions. But the functions of that new life have\nbeen long in a hidden play of preparation for full activity. He has\nwaited in the coil of mortality only for the moment when he should\ninspire the ether of the upper world, and behold the light of eternal\nday, and hear the voices of new companions, and taste of the immortal\nfruit, and drink of the river of life; and then, after perhaps a short\nseason of nursing in the arms of the elder members of the family above,\nhe will take his place in the service and orders of the heavenly house;\nnor ever have room to regret the ignorances of his mortal state.\n\nThe study of those parts of Scripture which relate to futurity should\ntherefore be undertaken with zeal, inspired by a reasonable hope of\nsuccessful research; and at the same time with the modesty and\nresignation which must spring from a not unreasonable supposition that\nall such researches may be fruitless. So long as this modesty is\npreserved, there will be no danger of enthusiastic excitements, whatever\nmay be the opinions which we are led to entertain.\n\nIt must be evident to every calm mind, that the discussion of questions\nconfessedly so obscure, and upon which the evidence of Scripture is\nlimited and of uncertain explication, is ordinarily improper to the\npulpit. The several points of the catholic faith afford themes enough\nfor public instruction. But matters of learned debate are extraneous to\nthat faith: they are no ingredients in the bread of life, which is the\nonly article committed to the hands of the teacher for distribution\namong the multitude. What are the private and hypothetical opinions of a\npublic functionary to those whom he is to teach the principles of the\ncommon Christianity? And if these doubtful opinions implicate inquiries\nwhich the unlearned can never prosecute, a species of imposition is\nimplied in the attempt to urge them upon simple hearers. It is truly a\nsorry triumph that he obtains who wins by declamation and violence the\nvoices of a crowd in favor of opinions which men of learning and modesty\nneither defend nor impugn but with diffidence. The press is the proper\norgan of abstruse controversy.\n\n[3] Written in 1828.\n\n\n\n\nSECTION VI.\n\nENTHUSIASTIC PERVERSIONS OF THE DOCTRINE OF A PARTICULAR PROVIDENCE.\n\n\nNo species of enthusiasm, perhaps, is more extensively prevalent, and\ncertainly none clings more tenaciously to the mind that has once\nentertained it, and none produces more practical mischief, than that\nwhich is founded on an abuse of the doctrine of a particular Providence.\nIt is by the fortuities of life that the religious enthusiast is\ndeluded. Chance, under a guise stolen from piety, is his divinity. He\nbelieves, and he believes justly, that every seeming fortuity is under\nthe absolute control of the divine hand; but in virtue of the peculiar\ninterest he supposes himself to have on high, he is tempted to think\nthat these contingencies are very much at his command. This belief\nnaturally inclines him to pay more regard to the unusual, than to the\ncommon course of events. In contemplating God as the disposer of\nchances, he becomes forgetful of him who is the governor of the world by\nknown and permanent laws. All the honor which he does to one of the\ndivine attributes, is in fact stolen from the reverence due to another;\nbut he should remember that \"the Lord abhorreth robbery for offering.\"\n\nA propensity to look more to chance than to probability is known\ninvariably to debilitate the reasoning faculty, as well as to vitiate\nthe moral sentiments; and these constant effects are more often\naggravated than mitigated by the accession of religious sentiments. The\nillusions of hope then assume a tone of authority which effectually\nsilences the whispers of common sense; and the imagination, more highly\nstimulated than when it fed only on things of earth, boldly makes a prey\nof the divine power and goodness, to the utter subversion of humble\npiety. A sanguine temper, quickened by perverted notions of religion,\neasily impels a man to believe that he is privileged or skilled to\npenetrate the intentions of Providence towards himself; and the\nanticipations he forms on this ground acquire so much consistency by\nbeing perpetually handled, that he deems them to form a much more\ncertain rule of conduct than he could derive from the forecastings of\nprudence, or even from the dictates of morality.\n\nDelusions of this kind are the real sources of many of those sad\ndelinquencies which so often bring reproach upon a profession of\nreligion. The world loves to call the offender a villain; but in fact he\nwas not worse than an enthusiast. He who, in conducting the daily\naffairs of life, has acquired the settled habit of calculating rather\nupon what is possible than upon what is probable, naturally slides into\nthe mischievous error of paying court to Fortune, rather than to Virtue;\nnor will his integrity or his principles of honor be at all strengthened\nby the mere metonymy of calling Fortune\u2014Providence. It is easy to fix\nthe eye upon the clouds in expectation of help front above with so much\nintentness that the tables of right and wrong, which stand before us,\nshall scarcely be seen. This very expectation is a contempt of prudence;\nand it is not often seen that those who slight Prudence, pay much regard\nto her sister\u2014Probity.\n\nOr if consequences so serious do not follow from the notion that the\nfortuities of life are an available fund at the disposal of the favorite\nof heaven, yet this belief can hardly fail to spread an infection of\nsloth and presumption through the character. The enthusiast will\ncertainly be remiss and dilatory in arduous and laborious duties. Hope,\nwhich is the incentive to exertion in well-ordered and energetic minds,\nslackens every effort if the understanding be crazed. The wheel of toil\nstands still while the devotee implores assistance from above. Or if he\npossesses more of activity, the same false principle prompts him to\nengage in enterprises from which, if the expected contingent to be\nfurnished by \"Providence,\" be deducted, scarcely a shred of fair\nprobability remains to recommend the scheme.\n\nIf the course of events in human life were as constant and uniform as\nthe phenomena of the material world, none but madmen would build their\nhopes upon the irregularities by which it is diversified. Nor would the\nenthusiast do so if he gave heed to the principles that impose order\nupon the apparent chaos of fortuities from which the many-colored line\nof human life is spun. To expose, then, the error of those who, on\npretext of faith in providence, build presumptuous expectations upon the\nthrows of fortune, we must analyse the confused mass of contingences to\nwhich human life is liable. This analysis leaves the folly and\nimpropriety of the enthusiast without excuse.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAny one who recalls to his recollection the incidents, great and small,\nthat have filled up the days of a year past, will find it easy to divide\nthem into two classes, of which the first, and the larger, comprises\nthose events which common sense and experience might have enabled him to\nanticipate, and which, if he were wise, he did actually anticipate, so\nfar as was necessary for the regulation of his conduct. The ground of\nsuch calculations of futurity is nothing else than the uniform course of\nevents in the material world, and the permanent principles of human\nnature, and the established order of the social system: for all these,\nthough confessedly liable to many interruptions, are yet so far constant\nas to afford, on the whole, a safe rule of calculation. If there were no\nsuch uniformity in the course of events, the active and reasoning\nfaculties of man would be of no avail to him; for the exercise of them\nmight as probably be ruinous as serviceable. In the whirl of such a\nsupposed anarchy of nature, an intelligent agent must refrain from every\nmovement, and resign himself to be borne along by the eddies of\nconfusion. But this is not the character of the world we inhabit: the\nconnection of physical causes and effects is known and calculable, so\nthat the results of human labor are liable to only a small deduction on\naccount of occasional irregularities. We plant and sow, and lay up\nstores, and build, and construct machines in tranquil hope of the\nexpected benefit; and indeed, if the variations and irregularities of\nnature were much greater and more frequent than they are, or even if\ndisappointment were as common as success, the part of wisdom would still\nbe the same; for the laws of nature, though never so much broken in upon\nby incalculable accidents, would still afford _some_ ground of\nexpectation; and an intelligent agent will always prefer to act on even\nthe slenderest hope which reason approves, rather than to lie supine in\nthe ruinous wheel-way of chance.\n\nAnd notwithstanding its many real, and many apparent irregularities,\nthere is also a settled order of causes and effects in the human system,\nas well as in the material world. The foundation of this settled order\nis, the sameness of human nature in its animal intellectual and moral\nconstitution, of which the anomalies are never so great as to break up\nall resemblance to the common pattern. Then those conventional modes of\nthinking and acting which sway the conduct of the mass of mankind,\nstrengthen the tendency to uniformity, and greatly counteract all\ndisturbing causes. Then again the sanctioned institutions of society\ngive stability and permanence to the order of events, and altogether\nafford so much security in calculating upon the future, that, whoever by\nobservation and reflection has become well skilled in the ordinary\nmovements of the machinery of life may, with confidence and calmness, if\nnot with absolute assurance of success, risk his most important\ninterests upon the issue of plans wisely concerted.\n\nSkill and sagacity in managing the affairs of common life, or wisdom in\ncouncil and command, is nothing else than an extensive and ready\nknowledge of the intricate movements of the great machine of the social\nsystem; and the high price which this skill and wisdom always bears\namong men, may be held to represent two abstractions; first, the\nperplexing Irregularities of the system to which human agency is to be\nconformed; and then, the real and substantial Uniformity of the\nmovements of that system. For it is plain that if there were no\nperplexing irregularities, superior sagacity would be in no request; or,\non the other hand, if there were not a real constancy in the course of\naffairs, even the greatest sagacity would be found to be of no avail,\nand therefore would be in no esteem.\n\nThere is then a substantial, if not an immovable _substratum_ of causes\nand effects, upon which, for the practical and important purposes of\nlife, calculations of futurity may be formed. And this is the basis, and\nthis alone, on which a wise man rests his hopes, and constructs his\nplans; he well knows that his fairest hopes may be dissipated, and his\nbest plans overthrown; and yet, though the hurricanes of misfortune were\na thousand times to scatter his labors, he would still go on to renew\nthem in conformity with the same principles of calculation; for no other\nprinciples are known to him, and the extremest caprices of Fortune will\nnever so prevail over his constancy as to induce him to do homage to\nChance.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe second, and the less numerous class of events that make up the\ncourse of human life, are those which no sagacity could have\nanticipated; for though in themselves they were only the natural\nconsequences of common causes, yet those causes were either concealed,\nor remote, and were, therefore, to us and our agency the same as if they\nhad been absolutely fortuitous. By far the larger proportion of these\naccidents arises from the intricate connections of the social system.\nThe thread of every life is entangled with other threads beyond all\nreach of calculation, the weal and woe of each depends, by innumerable\ncorrespondences, upon the will, and caprices, and fortune, not merely of\nthe individuals of his immediate circle, but upon those of myriads of\nwhom he knows nothing. Or, strictly speaking, the tie of mutual\ninfluence passes, without a break, from hand to hand, throughout the\nhuman family: there is no independence, no insulation, in the lot of\nman; and therefore there can be no absolute calculation of future\nfortunes; for he whose will or caprice is to govern that lot stands,\nperhaps, at the distance of a thousand removes from the subject of it,\nand the attenuated influence winds its way in a thousand meanders before\nit reaches the point of its destined operation.\n\nBoth these classes of events are manifestly necessary to the full\ndevelopment of the faculties of human nature. If, for example, there\nwere no constancy in the events of life, there would be no room left for\nrational agency; and if, on the other hand, there were no inconstancy,\nthe operations of the reasoning faculty would fall into a mechanical\nregularity, and the imagination and the passions would be iron-bound, as\nby the immobility of fate. It is by the admirable combination of the two\nprinciples of order and disorder, of uniformity and variety, of\ncertainty and of chance, that the faculties and desires are wrought up\nto their full play of energy and vivacity of reason and of feeling. But\nit is especially in connection with the doctrine of Providence that we\nhave at present to consider these two elements of human life; and as to\nthe first of them, it is evident that the settled order of causes and\neffects, so far as it may be ascertained by observation and experience,\nclaims the respect and obedience of every intelligent agent; since it is\nnothing less than the will of the Author of nature, legibly written upon\nthe constitution of the world. This will is sanctioned by immediate\nrewards and punishments; health, wealth, prosperity, are the usual\nconsequents of obedience; while sickness, poverty, degradation, are the\nalmost certain inflictions that attend a negligent interpretation, or a\npresumptuous disregard of it. The dictates of prudence are in truth the\ncommands of God; and his benevolence is vindicated by the fact, that the\nmiseries of life are, to a very great extent, attributable to a contempt\nof those commands.\n\nBut there is a higher government of men, as moral and religious beings,\nwhich is carried on chiefly by means of the fortuities of life. Those\nunforeseen accidents which so often control the lot of men, constitute a\n_superstratum_ in the system of human affairs, wherein, peculiarly, the\nDivine Providence holds empire for the accomplishment of its special\npurposes. It is from this hidden and inexhaustible mine of\nchances\u2014chances, as we must call them\u2014that the Governor of the world\ndraws, with unfathomable skill, the materials of his dispensations\ntowards each individual of mankind. The world of nature affords no\ninstances of complicated and exact contrivance, comparable to that which\nso arranges the vast chaos of contingencies, as to produce, with\nunerring precision, a special order of events adapted to the character\nof every individual of the human family. Amid the whirl of myriads of\nfortuities, the means are selected and combined for constructing as many\nindependent machineries of moral discipline as there are moral agents in\nthe world; and each apparatus is at once complete in itself, and\ncomplete as part of a universal movement.\n\nIf the special intentions of Providence towards individuals were\neffected by the aid of supernatural interpositions, the power and\npresence of the Supreme Disposer might indeed be more strikingly\ndisplayed than it is; but his skill much less. And herein especially is\nmanifested the perfection of the divine wisdom, that the most surprising\nconjunctions of events are brought about by the simplest means, and in a\nmanner so perfectly in harmony with the ordinary course of human\naffairs, that the hand of the Mover is ever hidden beneath second\ncauses, and is descried only by the eye of pious affection. This is in\nfact the great miracle of providence\u2014that no miracles are needed to\naccomplish its purposes. Countless series of events are travelling on\nfrom remote quarters towards the same point; and each series moves in\nthe beaten track of natural occurrences; but their intersection, at the\nvery moment in which they meet, shall serve, perhaps, to give a new\ndirection to the affairs of an empire. The materials of the machinery of\nProvidence are all of common quality; but their combination displays\nnothing less than infinite skill.\n\nHaving then these two distinguishable classes of events before us,\nnamely, those which may be foreknown by human sagacity, and those which\nmay not; it is manifest that the former exclusively is given to man as\nthe sphere of his labors, and for the exercise of his skill; while the\nlatter is reserved as the royal domain of sovereign bounty and infinite\nwisdom. The enthusiast, therefore, who neglects and contemns those\ndictates of common sense which are derived from the calculable course of\nhuman affairs, and founds his plans and expectations upon the unknown\nprocedures of Providence, is chargeable not merely with folly, but with\nan impious intrusion upon the peculiar sphere of the divine agency. This\nimpiety is shown in a strong light when viewed in connection with those\ngreat principles which may be not obscurely discerned to govern the\ndispensations of Providence towards mankind.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIn the divine management of the fortuitous events of life, there is, in\nthe first place, visible, some occasional flashes of that retributive\njustice, which, in the future world, is to obtain its long postponed and\nperfect triumph. There are instances which, though not very common, are\nfrequent enough to keep alive the salutary fears of mankind, wherein\nvindictive visitations speak articulately in attestation of the\nrighteous indignation of God against those who do evil. Outrageous\nvillanies, or appalling profaneness, sometimes draw upon the criminal\nthe instant bolt of divine wrath, and in so remarkable a manner that the\nmost irreligious minds are quelled with a sudden awe, and confess the\nhand of God. And again there is just perceptible, as it were, a gleam of\ndivine approbation, displayed in a signal rewarding of the righteous,\neven in the present life: a blessing \"which maketh rich\" rests sometimes\nconspicuously upon the habitation of disinterested and active virtue:\n\"the righteous is as a tree planted by the rivers of water: whatsoever\nhe doeth, prospers.\" In these anomalous cases of anticipated\nretribution, the punishment or the reward does not arrive in the\nordinary course of common causes; but starts forth suddenly from that\nstorehouse of fortuities whence the divine providence draws its means of\ngovernment. If the oppressor, by rousing the resentment of mankind, is\ndragged from the seat of power, and trodden in the dust; or if the\nvillain who \"plotteth mischief against his neighbor on his bed,\" is at\nlength caught in his own net, and despoiled of his wrongful gains, these\nvisitations of justice, though truly retributive, belong plainly to the\n_known_ order of causes and effects: they are nothing more than the\nnatural issues of the culprit's course; and therefore do not declare the\nspecial interference of Heaven. But there are instances of another kind,\nin which the ruin of villany or of violence comes speeding as on a shaft\nfrom above, which, though seemingly shot at random, yet hits its victim\nwith a precision and a peculiarity that proclaims the unerring hand of\ndivine justice.\n\nIn like manner there are remarkable recompenses of integrity, of\nliberality, of kindness to strangers, and, most especially, of duty to\nparents, which arrive by means so remote from common probability, and\nyet so simple, that the approbation of him who \"taketh pleasure in the\npath of the just,\" is written upon the unexpected boon. There are few\nfamily histories that would not afford examples of such conspicuous\nretributions. Nevertheless, as they are confessedly rare, and\nadministered by rules absolutely inscrutable to human penetration, there\ncan hardly be a more daring impiety than, in particular instances, to\nentertain the expectation of their occurrence. Yet the enthusiast finds\nit hard to abstain, in his own case, from such expectations; and is\ntempted perpetually to indulge hopes of special boons in reward of his\nservices, and is forward and ingenious in giving an interpretation that\nflatters his spiritual vanity to every common favor of providence; the\nbottles of heaven are never stopped but to gratify his taste for fine\nweather! A readiness to announce the wrath of heaven upon offenders, is\na presumption which characterizes, not the mere enthusiast, but the\nmalign fanatic, and therefore comes not properly within our subject; and\nyet the species of enthusiasm now under consideration is very seldom\nfree from some such impious tendency.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIn the divine management of the fortuities of life, there may also be\nvery plainly perceived a dispensation of moral exercise, specifically\nadapted to the temper and powers of the individual. No one can look back\nupon his own history without meeting unquestionable instances of this\nsort of educational adjustment of his lot, effected by means that were\nwholly independent of his own choice or agency. The casual meeting with\na stranger, or an unexpected interview with a friend; the accidental\npostponement of affairs; the loss of a letter, a shower, a trivial\nindisposition, the caprice of an associate; these, or similar\nfortuities, have been the determining causes of events, not only\nimportant in themselves, but of peculiar significance and use in that\nprocess of discipline which the character of the individual was to\nundergo. These new currents in the course of life proved, in the issue,\nspecifically proper for putting in action the latent faculties of the\nmind, or for holding in check its dangerous propensities. Whoever is\nquite unconscious of this sort of _overruling_ of his affairs by means\nof apparent accidents, must be very little addicted to habits of\nintelligent reflection.\n\nDoubtless every man's choice and conduct determine, to a great extent,\nhis lot and occupation; but not seldom, a course of life much better\nfitted to his temper and abilities than the one he would fain substitute\nfor it, has, year after year, and in spite of his reluctances, fixed his\nplace and employment in society; and this unchosen lot has, if we may so\nspeak, been constructed from the floating fragments of other men's\nfortunes, drifted by the accidents of wind and tide across the billows\nof life, till they were stranded at the very spot where the individual\nfor whom they were destined was ready to receive them. By such strong\nand nicely-fitted movements of the machine of Providence it is, that the\ntasks of life are distributed where best they may be performed, and its\nburdens apportioned where best they may be sustained. By accidents of\nbirth or connection, the bold, the sanguine, the energetic, are led into\nthe front of the field of arduous exertion; while by similar fortuities,\nquite as often as by choice, the pusillanimous, the fickle, the\nfaint-hearted, are suffered to spend their days under the shelter of\nease, and in the recesses of domestic tranquillity.\n\nBut who shall profess so to understand his particular temper, and so to\nestimate his talents, as might qualify him to anticipate the special\ndispensations of Providence in his own case? Such knowledge, surely,\nevery wise man will confess to be \"too wonderful\" for him. To the\nSupreme Intelligence alone it belongs to distribute to every one his\nlot, and to \"fix the bounds\" of his abode. Yet there are persons, whose\npersuasion of what _ought_ to be their place and destiny is so\nconfidently held, that a long life of disappointment does not rob them\nof the fond hypotheses of self-love; and just in proportion to the\nfirmness of their faith in a particular providence, will be their\npropensity to quarrel with Heaven, as if it debarred them from their\nright in deferring to realize the anticipated destiny. Presumption, when\nit takes its commencement in religion, naturally ends in impiety.\n\nMen who look no farther than the present scene, may, with less glaring\ninconsistency, vent their vexation in accusing the blindness and\npartiality of fate, which has held their eminent talents and their\npeculiar merits so long under the veil of obscurity; but those who\nacknowledge at once a disposing providence and a future life, might\nsurely find considerations proper for imposing silence upon such\nmurmurings of disappointed ambition. Let it be granted to a man that his\nvanity does not deceive him, when he complains that adverse fortune has\nprevented his entering the very course upon which nature fitted him to\nshine, and has, with unrelenting severity, confined him, year after\nyear, to a drudgery in which he was not qualified to win even a common\nmeasure of success: all this may be true; but if the complainant be a\nChristian, he cannot find it difficult to admit that this clashing of\nhis fortune with his capacities, or his tastes, may have been the very\nexercise necessary to ensure his ultimate welfare. Who will deny that\nthe reasons of the divine conduct towards those who are in training for\nan endless course must always lie at an infinite distance beyond the\nrange of created vision? Who shall venture even to surmise what course\nof events may best foster the germ of an imperishable life; or who\nconjecture what contraventions of the hopes and interests of an\nindividual may find their reasons and necessity somewhere in the wide\nuniverse of consequences incalculably remote?\n\nWhether the promise \"that all things shall work together for good to\nthose who love God,\" is to be accomplished by perpetual sunshine or by\nincessant storms, no one can anticipate in his own case: or if any one\nwere excepted, it must be the enthusiast himself, who might almost with\ncertainty calculate upon receiving a dispensation the very reverse of\nthat which it has been the leading error of his life to anticipate. He\nmight thus calculate, both because his expectations are in themselves\nexorbitant and improbable, and because the presumptuous temper from\nwhich they spring loudly calls for the rebuke of heaven.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAmid the perplexities which arise from the unexpected events of life, we\nare not left without sufficient guidance; for although, in particular\ninstances, the most reasonable calculations are baffled, and the best\nplans subverted, yet there remains in our hands the immutable rule of\nmoral rectitude, in an inflexible adherence to which we shall avoid what\nis chiefly to be dreaded in calamity\u2014the dismal moanings of a wounded\nconscience. \"He that walketh uprightly walketh surely,\" even in the path\nof disaster. And while, on the one hand, he steadily pursues the track\nwhich prudence marks out; and, on the other, listens with respectful\nattention to the dictates of honor and probity, he may, without danger\nof enthusiasm, ask and hope for the especial aids of Divine Providence,\nin overruling those events that lie beyond the reach of human agency.\n\nPrayer and calculation are duties never incompatible, never to be\ndisjoined, and never to shackle one the other. For while those events\nonly which are probable ought to be assumed as the basis of plans for\nfuturity, yet, whatever is not manifestly impossible, or in a high\ndegree improbable, may lawfully be made the object of submissive\npetition. Few persons, and none who have known vicissitudes, can look\nback upon past years without recollecting signal occasions on which they\nhave been rescued from the impending and apparently inevitable\nconsequences of their own misconduct, or imprudence, or want of ability,\nby some extraordinary intervention in the very crisis of their fate, or,\nperhaps, they have been placed by accident in circumstances of peril,\nwhere as it seemed, there remained not a possibility of escape. But\nwhile the ruin was yet in descent, rescue, which it would have been\nmadness to expect, came in to preserve life, fortune, or reputation,\nfrom the imminent destruction. That such conspicuous deliverances do\nactually occur is matter of fact; nor will the Christian endure that\nthey should be attributed to any other cause than the special care and\nkindness of his heavenly Father: and yet, as they belong to an economy\nwhich stretches into eternity and as they are not administered on any\nascertained rule, they can never come within the range of our\ncalculations, or be admitted to influence our plans: a propensity to\nindulge such expectations indicates infirmity of mind, and is in fact an\nintrusion upon the counsels of infinite wisdom.\n\nNevertheless, so long as these extraordinary interventions are known to\nconsist with the rules of the divine government, they may be\ncontemplated as possible without violating the respect that is due to\nits ordinary procedures; and may, therefore, without enthusiasm, be\nsolicited in the hour of peril or perplexity. The gracious \"Hearer of\nprayer\", who, on past and well-remembered occasions has signally given\ndeliverance, may do so again, even when, if we think of our own\nimprudence, we have reason to expect nothing less than destruction. What\nare termed by irreligious men 'the fortunate chances of life', will be\nregarded by the devout mind as constituting a hidden treasury of boons,\nheld at the disposal of a gracious hand for the incitement of prayer,\nand for the reward of humble faith. The enthusiast who, in contempt of\ncommon sense and of rectitude, presumes upon the existence of this\nextraordinary fund, forfeits, by such impiety, his interest in its\nstores. But the prudent and the pious, while they labor and calculate in\nstrict conformity to the known and ordinary course of events, shall not\nseldom find that, from this very treasury of contingencies, \"God is rich\nto them that call upon him\".\n\nIn minds of a puny form, whose enthusiasm is commonly mingled with some\ndegree of abject superstition, the doctrine of a particular providence\nis liable to be degraded by habitual association with trivial and solid\nsolicitudes. This or that paltry wish is gratified, or vulgar care\nrelieved, 'by the kindness of providence;' and thanks are rendered for\nhelps, comforts, deliverances, of so mean an order, that the respectable\nlanguage of piety is burlesqued by the ludicrous character of the\noccasion on which it is used. The fault in these instances does not\nconsist in an error of opinion, as if even the most trivial events were\nnot, equally with the most considerable, under the divine management;\nbut it is a perversion and degradation of feeling which allows the mind\nto be occupied with whatever is frivolous, to the exclusion of whatever\nis important. These petty spirits, who draw hourly, from the matters of\ntheir personal comfort or indulgence, so many occasions of prayer and\npraise, are often seen to be insensible to motives of a higher kind:\nthey have no perception of the relative magnitude of objects; no sense\nof proportion; and they feel little or no interest in what does not\naffect themselves. We ought, however, to grant indulgence to the\ninfirmity of the feeble; and if the soul be indeed incapable of\nexpansion, it is better it should be devout in trifles, than not devout\nat all. Yet these small folks have need to be warned of the danger of\nmistaking the gratulations of selfishness for the gratitude of piety.\n\nIt is a rare perfection of the intellectual and moral faculties which\nallows all objects great and small, to be distinctly perceived, and\nperceived in their relative magnitudes. A soul of this high finish may\nbe devout on common occasions without trifling; it will gather up the\nfragments of the divine bounty, that \"nothing be lost\"; and yet hold its\nenergies and its solicitudes free for the embrace of momentous cares. If\nmen of expanded intellect, and high feeling, and great activity, are\nexcused in their neglect of small things, this indulgence is founded\nupon a recollection of the contractedness of the human mind, even at the\nbest. The forgetfulness of lesser matters, which so often belongs to\nenergy of character, is, after all, not a perfection, but a weakness and\na more complete expansion of mind, a still more vigorous pulse of life,\nwould dispel the torpor of which such neglects are the symptoms.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThwarted enthusiasm naturally generates impious petulance. If we\nencumber the Providence of God with unwarranted expectations, it will be\ndifficult not so to murmur under disappointment as those do who think\nthemselves defrauded of their right. In truth, amidst the sharpness of\nsudden calamity, or the pressure of continued adversity, the most sane\nminds are tempted to indulge repinings which reason, not less than\npiety, utterly condemns. The imputation of defective wisdom, or justice,\nor goodness, to the Being of whom we can form no notion apart from the\nidea of absolute knowledge, rectitude, and benevolence, is too absurd to\nneed a formal refutation; and yet how often does it survive all the\nrebukes of good sense and religion! So egregious an error could not find\na moment's lodgment in the heart, if it did not meet a surface of\nadhesion where presumption has been torn away. The exaggerations of\nself-love not quelled, but rather inflated by an enthusiastic piety,\ninspire feelings of personal importance so enormous, that even the\ninfinitude of the divine attributes is made to shrink down to the\nmeasure of comparison with man. When illusions such as these are rent\nand scattered, how pitiable is the conscious destitution and meanness of\nthe denuded spirit! with how cruel a shock does it fall back upon its\ntrue place in the vast system of providence!\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nWhoever entertains, as every Christian ought, a strong and consoling\nbelief of the doctrine of a Particular Providence, which cares for the\nwelfare of each, should not forget to connect with that belief some\ngeneral notions, at least, of that system of Universal Providence which\nsecures individual interests, consistently with the well-being of the\nwhole. Such notions, though very defective, or even in part erroneous,\nmay serve first to check presumption, and then to impose silence upon\nthose murmurs which are its offspring.\n\nA law of subordination manifestly pervades that part of the government\nof God with which we are acquainted, and may fairly be supposed to\nprevail elsewhere. Lesser interests are the component parts of greater;\nand so closely are the individual fates of the human family interwoven,\nthat each member, however insignificant he may seem, sustains a real\nrelationship of influence to the community. The lot of each must\ntherefore be shapen by reasons drawn from many, and often from remote\nquarters. Yet in effecting this complex combination of parts, infinite\nwisdom prevents any clashing of the lesser with the larger movements;\nand we may feel assured that, on the grounds either of mere equity or of\nbeneficence, the dispensations of Providence are as compactly perfect\ntowards each individual of mankind as if he were the sole inhabitant of\nan only world. If Heaven, in its condescension, were to implead at the\nbar of human reason, and set forth the motives of its dealings towards\nthis man or that, these motives might, no doubt, be alleged and\njustified in every particular, without making any reference to the\nintermingled interests of other men: and it might be shown that,\nalthough certain events were in fact followed by consequences much more\nimportant to others than to the individual immediately affected, yet\nthey did in the fullest sense belong to the personal discipline of the\nindividual, and must have taken place irrespectively of those foreign\nconsequences.\n\nThis perfect fitting and finishing of the machinery of Providence to\nindividual interests, must be premised; yet it is not less true that, in\nalmost every event of life, the remote consequences vastly outweigh the\nproximate, in actual amount of importance. Every man prospers, or is\noverthrown, lives, or dies, not for himself; but that he may sustain\nthose around him, or that he may give them place; and who shall attempt\nto measure the circle within which are comprised these extensive\ndependences? On principles even of mathematical calculation, each\nindividual of the human family may be demonstrated to hold in his hand\nthe centre lines of an interminable web-work, on which are sustained the\nfortunes of multitudes of his successors. These implicated consequences,\nif summed together, make up therefore a weight of human weal or woe that\nis reflected back with an incalculable momentum upon the lot of each.\nEvery one is then bound to remember that the personal sufferings or\npeculiar vicissitudes or toils through which he is called to pass, are\nto be estimated and explained only in an immeasurably small proportion\nif his single welfare is regarded; while their full price and value are\nnot to be computed unless the drops of the morning dew could be numbered.\n\nImmediate proof of that system of interminable connection which binds\ntogether the whole human family may be obtained by every one who will\nexamine the several ingredients of his physical, intellectual, and\nsocial condition; for he will not find one of these circumstances of his\nlot that is not, in its substance or quality, directly an effect or\nconsequence of the conduct, or character, or constitution of his\nprogenitors, and of all with whom he has had to do; if _they_ had been\nother than they were, _he_ must also have been other than he is. And\nthen our predecessors must, in like manner, trace the qualities of their\nbeing to theirs; thus the linking ascends to the common parents of all;\nand thus must it descend, still spreading as it goes, from the present\nto the last generation of the children of Adam.\n\nNor is this direct and obvious kind of influence the only one of which\nsome plain indications are to be discerned; and without at all following\nthe uncertain track of adventurous speculation, it may fairly be\nsurmised that the same law of interminable connection, a law of moral\ngravitation, stretches far beyond the limits of the human family, and\nactually holds in union the great community of intelligent beings.\nInstances of connection immensely remote, and yet very real, might be\nadduced in abundance: the influence of history upon the character and\nconduct of successive generations is of this kind. Whatever imparts\nforce or intensity to human motives, and by this means actually\ndetermines the course of life, may assuredly claim for itself the title\nand respect due to an efficient cause, and must be deemed to exert an\nimpulsive power over the mind. Now the records of history, how long\nsoever may have been the line of transmission which has brought them to\nour times, fraught as they are with instances applicable to all the\noccasions of real life, do thus, in a very perceptible degree, affect\nthe sentiments and mould the characters of mankind; nor will any one\nspeak slightingly of this species of causation who has compared the\nintellectual condition of nations rich in history with that of a people\nwholly destitute of the memorials of past ages. The story of the\ncourage, or constancy, or wisdom of the men of a distant time becomes,\nin a greater or a less degree, a subsidiary cause of the conduct of the\nmen of each succeeding generation. Thus the few individuals in every age\nto whom it has happened to live, and act, and speak under the focus of\nthe speculum of history, did actually live, and labor, and suffer for\nthe benefit of mankind in all future times; just as truly as a father\ntoils for the advantage of his family. And if the whole amount of the\ninfluence which has in fact flowed from the example of the wise, the\nbrave, and the good, could have been placed in prophetic vision before\nthem, while in the midst of their arduous course, would not these\nworthies contentedly and gladly have purchased so immense a wealth of\nmoral power at the price of their personal sufferings?\n\nHere, then, as a plain matter of fact, is an instance of boundless\ncausation, connecting certain individuals with myriads of their species,\nfrom age to age, and forever. It is an instance, we say, and not more:\nfor the voice of history is but a preluding flourish to that voluminous\nrevelation which shall be made, in the great day of consummation, of all\nthat has been acted and suffered upon earth's surface. In that day, when\nthe books of _universal history_ are opened and read, it shall doubtless\nbe found that no particle has been lost of aught that might serve to\nauthenticate the maxims of eternal wisdom, or to vindicate the righteous\ngovernment of God. And all shall be written anew, as \"with a pen of iron\non the rock forever,\" and shall stand forth as an imperishable lesson of\nwarning or incitement to after-comers on the theatre of existence.\n\nWhatever degree of solidity may be attributed to considerations of this\nkind, they are at least sufficiently supported by analogies to give them\na decided advantage over those petulant cavils wherewith we are prone to\narraign the particular dispensations of Providence towards ourselves.\nAre such dispensations, when seen in small portions, mysterious and\nperplexing? How can they be otherwise if, in their completed\nmeasurements, they are to spread over the creation, and in their issues,\nto endure forever?\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe common phrase\u2014\"a mysterious dispensation of Providence,\" when used\nas most often it is, contains the very substance of enthusiasm; and yet,\nit must be confessed, of a venial enthusiasm; for the occasions which\ndraw it forth are of a kind that may be admitted to palliate a hasty\nimpropriety of language. To call any event that does not break in upon\nthe known and established order of natural causes\u2014mysterious, is\nvirtually to assume a previous knowledge of the intentions of the\nSupreme Ruler; for it is to say that his proceedings have baffled our\ncalculations; and in fact it is only when we have formed anticipations\nof what ought to have been the course of events that we are tempted by\nsudden reverses to employ so improperly this indefinite expression. All\nthe dispensations of Divine Providence, taken together, may, with\nperfect propriety, be termed mysterious; since all alike are governed by\nreasons that are hidden and inscrutable: but it is the height of\npresumption so to designate some of them in distinction from others. For\nexample; a man eminently gifted by nature for important and peculiar\nservices, and trained to perform them by a long and arduous discipline,\nand now just entering upon the course of successful beneficence, and\nperhaps actually holding in his hand the welfare of a family or a\nprovince, or an empire, is suddenly smitten to the earth by disease or\naccident. Sad ruin of a rare machinery of intellectual and moral power!\nBut while the thoughtless may deplore for an hour the irreparable loss\nthey have sustained, the thoughtful few muse rather than weep; and in\norder to conceal from themselves the irreverence of their own repinings,\nexclaim\u2014'How mysterious are the ways of heaven!' Yes; but in the present\ninstance, what is mysterious? Not that human life should at all periods\nbe liable to disease, or the human frame be always vulnerable; for these\nare conditions inseparable from the present constitution of our nature;\nand it is clear that nothing less than a perpetual miracle could exempt\nany one class of mankind from the common contingencies of physical life.\nThe supposition of any such constant and manifest interposition,\nrendering a certain description of persons intactible by harm; would be\nimpious as well as absurd. Nothing could suggest to a sane mind an idea\nof this sort, if it did not gain admittance in the train of those eager\nforecastings of the ways of God in which persons much addicted to\nreligious meditation are prone to indulge, and which, though they may\nafford pleasure for a moment, are usually purchased at the cost of\nrelapses into gloomy, or worse than gloomy discontents.\n\nThere is a striking incongruity in the fact that the propensity to apply\nthe equivocal term, mysterious, to sudden and afflictive events, like\nthe one just specified, is indulged almost exclusively by the very\npersons whose professed principles furnish them with a sufficient\nexplanation of such dispensations. If the present state were thought to\ncomprise the beginning and the end of the human system, and if, at the\nsame time, this system be attributed to the Supreme Intelligence, then\nindeed the prodigious waste and destruction which is continually taking\nplace, not only of the germs of life, but of the rarest and of the most\nexcellent specimens of divine art, is a solecism that must baffle every\nattempt at explanation. Let then the deist, who knows of nothing beyond\ndeath, talk of the mysteries of Providence; but let not the Christian,\nwho is taught to think little of the present, and much of the future,\nuse language of this sort.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nA popular misunderstanding of the language of Scripture relative to the\nfuture state, has, perhaps, had great influence in enhancing the gloom\nand perplexity with which Christians are wont to think and speak of\nsudden and afflictive visitations of Providence.\n\nHeaven\u2014the ultimate and perfected condition of human nature, is thought\nof amidst the toils of life, as an elysium of quiescent bliss, exempt,\nif not from action, at least from the necessity of action. Meanwhile\nevery one feels that the ruling tendency and the uniform intention of\nall the arrangements of the present state, and of almost all its\ncasualties, is to generate and to cherish habits of strenuous exertion.\nInertness, not less than vice, stamps upon its victim the seal of\nperdition. The whole order of nature, and all the institutions of\nsociety, and the ordinary course of events, and the explicit will of\nGod, as declared in his word, concur in opposing that propensity to rest\nwhich belongs to the human mind, and combine to necessitate submission\nto the hard, yet salutary conditions under which alone the most extreme\nevils may be held in abeyance, and any degree of happiness enjoyed. A\ntask and duty is to be fulfilled, in discharging which the want of\nenergy is punished even more immediately and more severely than the want\nof virtuous motives.\n\nHere, then, is visible a great and serious incongruity between matter of\nfact, and the common anticipations of the future state: it deserves\ninquiry, therefore, whether these anticipations are really founded on\nthe evidence of Scripture; or whether they are not rather the mere\nsuggestions of a sickly spiritual luxuriousness. This is not the place\nfor pursuing such an inquiry; but it may be observed, in passing, that\nthose glimpses of the supernal world which we catch from the Scriptures\nhave in them, certainly, quite as much of the character of history as of\npoetry, and impart the idea\u2014not that there is less of business in heaven\nthan on earth, but more. Unquestionably, the felicity of those beings of\na higher order, to whose agency frequent allusions are made by the\ninspired writers, is not incompatible with the assiduities of a\nstrenuous ministry, to be discharged, according to the best ability of\neach, in actual and arduous contention with formidable, and perhaps\nsometimes successful opposition. A poetic notion of angelic agency,\nhaving in it nothing substantial, nothing necessary, nothing difficult,\nand which consists only in an unreal show of action and movement, and in\nwhich the result would be precisely the same apart from the\naccompaniment of a swarm of butterfly youths, must be spurned by reason,\nas it is unwarranted by Scripture. Scripture does not affirm or imply\nthat the plenitude of divine power is at all in more immediate exercise\nin the higher world than in this: on the contrary, the revelation so\ndistinctly made of a countless array of intelligent and vigorous agents,\ndesignated usually by an epithet of martial signification, precludes\nsuch an idea. Why a commission of subalterns? why an attendance of\ncelestials upon the flight of the bolt of omnipotence? That bolt, when\nactually flung, needs no coadjutor!\n\nBut if there be a real and necessary, not merely a shadowy agency in\nheaven as well as on earth; and if human nature is destined to act its\npart in such an economy, then its constitution, and the severe training\nit undergoes, are at once explained; and then, also, the removal of\nindividuals in the very prime of their fitness for useful labor ceases\nto be impenetrably mysterious. This excellent mechanism of matter and\nmind, which, beyond any other of his works, declares the wisdom of the\nCreator, and which, under his guidance, is now passing the season of its\nfirst preparation, shall stand up anew from the dust of dissolution, and\nthen, with freshened powers, and with a store of hard-earned practical\nwisdom for its guidance, shall essay new labors\u2014we say not perplexities\nand perils\u2014in the service of God, who by such instruments chooses to\naccomplish his designs of beneficence. That so prodigious a waste of the\nhighest qualities should take place as is implied in the notions which\nmany Christians entertain of the future state, is indeed hard to\nimagine. The mind of man, formed as it is to be more tenacious of its\nactive habits than even of its moral dispositions, is, in the present\nstate, trained (often at an immense cost of suffering) to the exercise\nof skill, of forethought, of courage, of patience; and ought it not to\nbe inferred, unless positive evidence contradicts the supposition, that\nthis system of education bears some relation of fitness to the state for\nwhich it is an initiation? Shall not the very same qualities which here\nare so sedulously fashioned and finished, be actually needed and used in\nthat future world of perfection? Surely the idea is inadmissible that an\ninstrument wrought up, at so much expense, to a polished fitness for\nservice, is destined to be suspended forever on the palace walls of\nheaven, as a glittering bauble, no more to make proof of its temper!\n\nA pious, but needless jealousy, lest the honor due to him \"who worketh\nall in all\" should be in any degree compromised, has perhaps had\ninfluence in concealing from the eyes of Christians the importance\nattributed in the Scriptures to subordinate agency; and thus, by a\nnatural consequence, has impoverished and enfeebled our ideas of the\nheavenly state. But assuredly it is only while encompassed by the\ndimness and errors of the present life that there can be any danger of\nattributing to the creature the glory due to the Creator. When once with\nopen eye that \"excellent glory\" has been contemplated, then shall it be\nunderstood that the divine wisdom is incomparably more honored by the\nskilful and faithful performances, and by the cheerful toils of agents\nwho have been fashioned and fitted for service, than it could be by the\nbare exertions of irresistible power: and then, when the absolute\ndependence of creatures is thoroughly felt, may the beautiful orders of\nthe heavenly hierarchy\u2014rising, and still rising towards perfection\u2014be\nseen and admired without hazard of forgetting him who alone is\nabsolutely perfect, and who is the only fountain and first cause of\nwhatever is excellent.\n\nThe Scriptures do indeed most explicitly declare, not only that virtue\nwill be inamissible in heaven, but that its happiness will be unalloyed\nby fear, or pain, or want. But the mental associations formed in the\npresent state make it so difficult to disjoin the idea of suffering and\nof sorrow from that of labor, and of arduous and difficult achievement,\nthat we are prone to exclude action, as well as pain, from our idea of\nthe future blessedness. Yet assuredly these notions may be separated;\nand if it be possible to imagine a perfect freedom from selfish\nsolicitudes, a perfect acquiescence in the will, and a perfect\nconfidence in the wisdom, power, and goodness of God, then also may\nwe conceive of toils without sadness, of perplexities without\nperturbations, and of difficult or perilous service, without despondency\nor fear. The true felicity of beings furnished with moral sensibilities,\nmust consist in the full play of the emotions of love, fixed on the\ncentre of good; and this kind of happiness is unquestionably compatible\nwith any external condition not positively painful: perhaps even another\nstep might be taken; but our argument does not need it. Yet it should be\nremembered, that, in many signal and well-attested instances the fervor\nof the religious affections has almost or entirely obliterated the\nconsciousness of physical suffering, and has proved its power to\nvanquish every inferior emotion, and to fill the heart with heaven, even\namid the utmost intensities of pain. Much more, then, may these\naffections, when freed from every shackle, when invigorated by an\nassured possession of endless life, and when heightened by the immediate\nvision of the supreme excellence, yield a fulness of joy, consistently\nwith many vicissitudes of external position.\n\nConsiderations such as these, if at all borne out by evidence of\nScripture, may properly have place in connection with the topic of this\nsection; for it is evident that the harassing perplexities which arise\nfrom the present dispensations of Providence might be greatly relieved\nby habitually entertaining anticipations of the future state somewhat\nless imbecile and luxurious than those commonly admitted by Christians.\n\n\n\n\nSECTION VII.\n\nENTHUSIASM OF BENEFICENCE.\n\n\nTo say that the principle of disinterested benevolence had never been\nknown among men before the publication of Christianity would be an\nexaggeration;\u2014an exaggeration very similar to that of affirming that the\ndoctrine of immortality was new to mankind when taught by our Lord. In\ntruth, the one had, in every age, been imperfectly practised, and the\nother dimly supposed; yet neither the one principle nor the other\nexisted in sufficient strength to be the source of any very substantial\nbenefit to mankind. But Christ, while he emphatically \"brought life and\nimmortality to light,\" and so claimed to be the Author of hope for man,\ndid also with such effect lay the hand of his healing power upon the\nhuman heart, long palsied by sensualities and selfishness, that it has\never since shed forth a fountain of active kindness, largely available\nfor the relief of want and misery.\n\nAs a matter of history, unquestionable and conspicuous, Christianity\nhas, in every age, fed the hungry, and clothed the naked, and redeemed\nthe captive, and visited the sick. It has put to shame the atrocities of\nthe ancient popular amusements, and has annihilated sanguinary rites,\nand has brought slavery into disesteem and disuse, and has abolished\nexcruciating punishments: it has even softened the ferocity of war; and,\nin a word, is seen constantly at work, edging away oppressions, and\nmoving on towards the perfect triumph which avowedly it meditates\u2014that\nof removing from the earth every woe which the inconsideration, or the\nselfishness, or the malignancy of man inflicts upon his fellows.\n\nIt remains, then, to ask, By what _special_ means has Christianity\neffected these ameliorations? and it will be found, that the power and\nsuccess of that new principle of benevolence which is taught in the\nScriptures, are not more remarkable than are its constitution and its\ningredients. Christian philanthropy, though it takes up among its\nelements the native benevolence of the human heart, is a compound\nprinciple, essentially differing from the spontaneous sympathies of our\nnature. Now, as this new and composite benevolence has, by a trial of\neighteen centuries, and under every imaginable diversity of\ncircumstance, proved its practical efficiency, and its immense\nsuperiority over the crude elementary principle of mere kindness, it\nwould be a violation of the acknowledged methods of modern science to\nadhere pertinaciously to the old and inefficient element, and to contemn\nthe improved principle. All we have to do on an occasion wherein the\nwelfare of our fellows is so deeply interested, is to take care that our\nown benevolence, and the benevolence which we recommend to others, is of\nthe true and genuine sort; in other words, that it is Christian. If, as\nevery one would profess, we desire to live, not for selfish pleasure,\nbut to promote the happiness of others, if we would become, not idle\nwell-wishers to our species, not closet philanthropists, dreaming of\nimpracticable reforms, and grudging the cost of any effective relief,\nbut real benefactors to mankind, we must take up the lessons of New\nTestament philanthropy, just as they lie on the page before us, and\nwithout imagining simpler methods, follow humbly in the track of\nexperience. By this Book alone have men been effectively taught to do\ngood.\n\nA low rate of activity, prompted merely by the spontaneous kindness of\nthe heart, may easily take place without incurring the danger of\nenthusiastical excesses; but how is enough of moral movement to be\nobtained for giving impulse to a course of arduous and perilous labors\nsuch as the woes of mankind often call for, and yet without generating\nthe extravagances of a false excitement? This is a problem solved only\nby the Christian scheme, and in briefly enumerating the peculiarities of\nthe benevolence which it inspires, we shall not fail to catch a glimpse,\nat least, of that profound skill which makes provision, on the one side\nagainst inertness and selfishness, and on the other against enthusiasm.\n\nThe _peculiarities_ of Christian philanthropy are such as these: it is\nvicarious, obligatory, rewardable, subordinate to an efficient agency,\nand it is an expression of grateful love.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nI. That great principle of vicarious suffering which forms the centre of\nChristianity, spreads itself through the subordinate parts of the\nsystem, and is the pervading, if not the invariable law of Christian\nbeneficence.\n\nThe spontaneous sympathies of human nature, when they are vigorous\nenough to produce the fruits of charity, rest on an expectation of an\nopposite kind; for we first seek to dispel from our own bosoms the\nuneasy sensation of pity; then look for the gratitude of the wretch we\nhave solaced, and for the approbation of spectators; and then take a\nsweet after-draught of self-complacency. But the Christian virtue of\nbeneficence stands altogether on another ground; and its doctrine is\nthis, that whoever would remedy misery must himself suffer; and that the\npains of the vicarious benefactor are generally to bear proportion to\nthe extent or malignity of the evils he labors to remove: so that, while\nthe philanthropist who undertakes the cure only of the transient ills of\nthe present life, may encounter no greater amount of toils or\ndiscouragements than are amply recompensed by the immediate\ngratifications of successful benevolence, he who, with a due sense of\nthe greatness of the enterprise, devotes himself to the removal of the\nmoral wretchedness in which human nature is involved, will find that the\nsad quality of these deeper woes is in a manner reflected back upon\nhimself; and that to touch the substantial miseries of degenerate man is\nto come within the infection of infinite sorrow.\n\nAnd this is the law of success in the Christian ministry\u2014that highest\nwork of philanthropy. Every right-minded and heaven-commissioned\nminister of religion is \"baptized with the baptism wherewith his Lord\nwas baptized.\" In an inferior, yet a real sense, he is, like his Lord, a\nvicarious person, and has freely undergone a suretyship for the immortal\nwelfare of his fellow-men. He has charged himself with a responsibility\nthat can never be absolutely acquitted while any power of exertion or\nfaculty of endurance is held back from the service. The interests which\nrest in his hand, and depend on his skill and fidelity\u2014depend, as truly\nas if divine agency had no part in the issue\u2014are as momentous as\ninfinity can make them; nor are they to be promoted without a\nwillingness to do and to bear the utmost of which humanity is capable.\nAlthough the servant of Christ be not unconditionally responsible for\nthe happy result of his labors, he is clearly bound, both by the terms\nof his engagement and the very quality of the work, to surrender\nwhatever he may possess that has in it a virtue to purchase success; and\nhe knows that, by the great law of the spiritual world, the suffering of\na substitute enters into the procedures of redemption.\n\nHe who \"took our sorrows and bore our griefs,\" left, for the instruction\nof his servants, a perfect model of what should ordinarily be a life of\nbeneficence. Every circumstance of privation, of discouragement, of\ninsult, of deadly hostility, which naturally fell in the way of a\nministry like his, exercised among a people profligate, malignant, and\nfanatical, was endured by him as submissively as if no extraordinary\npowers of relief or defence had been at his disposal.\n\nOn the very same conditions of unmitigated toil and suffering he\nconsigned the publication of his religion to his apostles: \"Ye shall be\nhated of all nations for my name's sake: Whosoever killeth you shall\nthink that he doeth God service: Behold, I send you forth as sheep among\nwolves.\" Though endowed with an opulence of supernatural power for the\nattestation of their commission, the apostles possessed none for the\nalleviation of their own distresses; none which might tend to generate a\npersonal enthusiasm by leading them to think that they, as individuals,\nwere the darlings of Heaven. And in fact, they daily found themselves,\neven while wielding the arm of omnipotence, exposed to the extremest\npressures of want, to pain, to destitution, to contempt. \"Even unto this\npresent hour we both hunger, and thirst, and are naked, and are\nbuffeted, and have no certain dwelling place.\" Such was the deplorable\nlot, such to his last year of houseless wanderings, houseless except\nwhen a dungeon was his home, of the most honored of Heaven's agents on\nearth. Such was the life of the most successful of all philanthropists!\n\nNor have the conditions of eminent service been relaxed: the value of\nsouls is not lowered; and as the \"sacrifice once offered\" for the sins\nof the world remains in undiminished efficacy, so, in the process of\ndiffusing the infinite benefit, the rule originally established\ncontinues in force; and although reasons drawn from the diversity of\ncharacter and of natural strength, among those who are the servants of\nGod, may occasion great apparent differences in the amount of suffering\nseverally endured by them, it is always true that the path of Christian\nbeneficence is more beset than the common walks of life with\ndisheartening reverses. Whoever freely takes up the cause of the\nwretched, is left to feel the grievous pressure of the burden. The\nfrustration of his plans by the obstinate folly of those whom he would\nfain serve, the apathy, the remissness, or the sinister oppositions of\nprofessed coadjutors, the dangerous hostility of profligate power, and\nworse than all, the secret misgivings of an exhausted spirit; these, and\nwhatever other instruments of torture Disappointment may hold in her\nhand or have in reserve, are the furniture of the theatre on which the\nfavorite virtue of Heaven is to pass its trial.\n\nBut this law of vicarious charity is altogether opposed to the\nexpectations of inexperienced and ardent minds. Among the few who devote\nthemselves zealously to the service of mankind, a large proportion\nderive their activity from that constitutional fervor which is the\nphysical cause of enthusiasm. In truth, a propensity rather to indulge\nthe illusions of hope, than to calculate probabilities, may seem almost\na necessary qualification for those who, in this world of abounding\nevil, are to devise the means of checking its triumphs. To raise fallen\nhumanity from its degradation, to rescue the oppressed, to deliver the\nneedy, to save the lost, are enterprises so little recommended, for the\nmost part, by a fair promise of success, that few will engage in them\nbut those who, by a happy infirmity of the reasoning faculty, are prone\nto hope where cautious men despond.\n\nThus furnished for their work by a constitutional contempt of frigid\nprudence, and engaged cordially in services which seem to give them a\npeculiar interest in the favor of Heaven, it is only natural that\nbenevolent enthusiasts should cherish secret, if not avowed hopes, of\nextraordinary aids, and of interpositions of a kind not compatible with\nthe constitution of the present state, and not warranted by promise of\nScripture. Or if the kind-hearted visionary neither asks nor expects any\npeculiar protection of his person, nor any exemption from the common\nhazards and ills of life, he yet clings with fond pertinacity to the\nhope of a semi-miraculous interference on those occasions in which the\nwork, rather than the agent, is in peril. Even the genuineness of his\nbenevolence leads the amiable enthusiast into this error. To achieve the\ngood he has designed does indeed occupy all his heart, to the exclusion\nof every selfish thought: what price of personal suffering would he not\npay, might he so purchase the needful miracle of help! How piercing,\nthen, is the anguish of his soul when that help is withheld; when his\nfair hopes and fair designs are overthrown by a hostility that might\nhave been restrained, or by a casualty that might have been diverted!\n\nFew, perhaps, who suffer chagrins like this, altogether avoid a relapse\ninto religious\u2014we ought to say, irreligious\u2014despondency. The first\nfault, that of misunderstanding the unalterable rules of the divine\ngovernment, is followed by a worse, that of fretting against them. When\nthe sharpness of disappointment disperses enthusiasm, the whole moral\nconstitution often becomes infected with the gall of discontent.\nQuerulous regrets take the place of active zeal; and at length vexation,\nmuch more than a real exhaustion of strength, renders the once laborious\nphilanthropist \"weary in well doing.\"\n\nAnd yet, not seldom, a happy renovation of motives takes place in\nconsequence of the very failures to which the enthusiast has exposed\nhimself. Benevolent enterprises were commenced, perhaps, in all the\nfervor of exorbitant hopes; the course of nature was to be diverted, and\na new order of things to take place, in which what human efforts failed\nto accomplish should be achieved by the ready aid of Heaven. But\nDisappointment, as merciless to the venial errors of the good, as to the\nmischievous plots of the wicked, scatters the project in a moment. Then\nthe selfish, and the inert, exult; and the half-wise pick up fragments\nfrom the desolation, wherewith to patch their favorite maxims of frigid\nprudence with new proofs in point! Meanwhile, by grace given from above\nin the hour of despondency, the enthusiast gains a portion of true\nwisdom from defeat. Though robbed of his fondly-cherished hopes, he has\nnot been stripped of his sympathies, and these soon prompt him to begin\nanew his labors, on principles of a more substantial sort. Warned not\nagain to expect miraculous or extraordinary aids to supply the want of\ncaution he consults Prudence with even a religious scrupulosity; for he\nhas learned to think her voice, if not misunderstood, to be in fact the\nvoice of God. And now he avenges himself upon Disappointment, by\nabstaining almost from hope. A sense of responsibility which quells\nphysical excitement, is his strength. He relies indeed upon the divine\naid; yet not for extraordinary interpositions, but for grace to be\nfaithful. Thus, better furnished for arduous exertion, a degree of\nsubstantial success is granted to his renewed toils and prayers. And\nwhile the indolent, and the over-cautious, and the cold-hearted, remain\nwhat they were; or have become more inert, more timid, and more selfish\nthan before, the subject of their self-complacent pity has not only\naccomplished some important service for mankind, but has himself\nacquired a temper which fits him to take rank among the thrones and\ndominions of the upper world.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nII. Christian philanthropy is obligatory.\n\nNatural benevolence is prone to claim the liberty and the merit that\nbelong to pure spontaneity, and spurns the idea of duty or necessity.\nThis claim might be allowed if the free emotions of kindness were\nsufficiently common, and sufficiently vigorous, to meet the large and\nconstant demand of want and misery. But the contrary is the fact; and if\nit were not that an authoritative requisition, backed by the most solemn\nsanctions, laid its hand upon the sources of eleemosynary aid, the\nrevenues of mercy would be slender indeed. Even the few who act from the\nimpulse of the noblest motives, are urged on and sustained in their\ncourse of beneficence by a latent recollection that, though they move\nfreely in advancing, they have no real liberty to draw back. If the\nentire amount of advantage which has accrued to the necessitous from the\ninfluence of Christianity could be computed, it would, no doubt, be\nfound, that by far the larger share has been contributed, not by the few\nwho might have done the same without impulsion, but by the many whose\nselfishness could never have been broken up except by the most\nperemptory appeals. To ensure, therefore, its large purpose of good-will\nto man, the law of Christ spreads out its claims very far beyond the\ncircle of mere pity, or natural kindness; and in the most absolute terms\ndemands, for the use of the poor, the ignorant, the wretched, (and\ndemands from every one who names the name of Christ) the whole residue\nof talent, wealth, time, that may remain after primary claims have been\nsatisfied. On this ground, when the zeal of self-denying benevolence has\nlaid down its last mite, it does not deem itself to have exceeded the\nextent of Christian duty; but cheerfully assents to that rule of\ncomputing service which affirms that, \"when we have done all, we are\nunprofitable servants; having performed only what we were commanded.\"\n\nManifestly, for the purpose of giving the highest possible force and\nsolemnity to that sense of obligation which impels the Christian to\nabound in every good work, the ostensible proof of religious sincerity,\nto be adduced in the momentous procedures of the last judgment, is made\nto consist in the fact of a life of beneficence. Those, and those only,\nshall inherit the prepared blessedness, who shall be found to have\nnourished, and clothed, and visited the Lord to his representatives\u2014the\npoor. The \"cursed\" are those who have grudged the cost of mercy.\n\nAnd it is not only true that the funds of charity have been, in every\nage, immensely augmented by these strong representations, and have far\nexceeded the amount which spontaneous compassion would ever have\ncontributed, but the very character of beneficence has been new-modelled\nby them. In the mind of every well-instructed Christian, a feeling\ncompounded of a compunctious sense of inadequate performance, and a\nsolemn sense of the extent of the divine requirements, repugnates and\nsubdues those self-gratulations, those giddy deliriums, and that vain\nambition, which beset a course of active and successful beneficence.\nThis remarkable arrangement of the Christian ethics, by which the\nlargest possible contributions and the utmost possible exertions are\ndemanded in a tone of comprehensive authority, seems, besides its other\nuses, particularly intended to quash the natural enthusiasm of active\nzeal. It is a strong antagonist principle in the mechanism of motives,\nensuring an equilibrium, however great may be the intensity of action.\nWe are thus taught that, as there can be no supererogation in works of\nmercy, so neither can there be exultation. Nothing, it is manifest, but\nhumility, becomes a servant who, at the best, barely acquits his duty.\n\nLet it, for example, have been given to a man to receive superior mental\nendowments, force of understanding, solidity of judgment, and richness\nof imagination, command of language, and graces of utterance; a soul\nfraught with expansive kindness, and not more kind than courageous; and\nlet him, thus furnished by nature, have enjoyed the advantages of rank,\nand wealth, and secular influence; and let it have been his lot, in the\nprime of life, to be stationed just on the fortunate centre of peculiar\nopportunities; and then let it have happened that a fourth part of the\nhuman family, cruelly maltreated, stood as clients at his door,\nimploring help; and let him in the very teeth of ferocious selfishness,\nhave achieved deliverance for these suffering millions, and have given a\ndeadly blow to the Moloch of blood and rapacity: and let him have been\nlifted to the heavens on the loud acclamations of all civilized nations,\nand blessed amid the sighs and joys of the ransomed poor, and his name\ndiffused, like a charm, through every barbarous dialect of a continent.\nLet all this signal felicity have belonged to the lot of a Christian\u2014a\nChristian well taught in the principles of his religion; nevertheless,\nin the midst of his honest joy, he will find place rather for\nhumiliation than for that vain excitement and exultation wherewith a man\nof merely natural benevolence would not fail, in like circumstances, to\nbe intoxicated. Without at all allowing the exaggerations of an affected\nhumility, the triumphant philanthropist confesses that he is nothing,\nand, far from deeming himself to have surpassed the requirements of the\nlaw of Christ, feels that he has done less than his duty.\n\nChristian philanthropy, thus boldly and solidly based on a sense of\nunlimited obligation, acquires a character essentially differing from\nthat of spontaneous kindness; and while, as a source of relief to the\nwretched, it is rendered immensely more copious, is, at the same time,\nsecured against the flatteries of self-love, and the excesses of\nenthusiasm, by the solemn sanctions of an unbounded responsibility.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIII. A nice balancing of motives is obtained from an opposite quarter in\nthe Christian doctrine, of\u2014The rewardableness of works of mercy. This\ndoctrine, than which no article of religion stands out more prominently\non the surface of the New Testament, having been early abused, to the\nhurt of the fundamentals of piety, has, in the modern Church, been\nalmost lost sight of, and fallen into disuse, or has even become liable\nto obloquy; so that to insist upon it plainly has incurred a\ncharge of Pelagianism, or of Romanism, or of some such error. This\nmisunderstanding must be dispelled before Christian philanthropy can\nrevive in full force.\n\nAmidst the awful reserve which envelops the announcement of a future\nlife by our Lord and his ministers, three ideas, continually incurring,\nare to be gathered with sufficient clearness from their hasty allusions.\nThe _first_ is, that the future life will be the fruit of the present,\nas if by a natural sequence of cause and effect. \"Whatsoever a man sows\nthat shall he also reap.\" The _second_ is, that the future harvest,\nthough of like species and quality with the seed, will be immensely\ndisproportioned to it in amount. \"The things seen are temporal; but the\nthings unseen are eternal;\" and the sufferings of the present time are\nto be followed by \"a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory;\"\nand those who have been \"faithful over a few things, will have rule over\nmany.\" The _third_ is, that though the disparity between the present\nreward and the future recompense will be vast and incalculable, yet will\nthere obtain a most exact rule of correspondence between the one and the\nother, so that, from the hands of the \"righteous Judge\" every man will\nreceive \"severally, according as his work has been.\" Nor shall even, \"a\ncup of cold water,\" given in Christian love, be omitted in that accurate\naccount; the giver shall \"by no means lose his _reward_.\"\n\nSuch are the explicit and intelligible engagements of him whose commands\nare never far separated from his promises. It cannot then be deemed a\nbecoming part of Christian temper to indulge a scrupulous hesitation in\naccepting and in acting upon the faith of these declarations. And as\nthere is no real incompatibility or clashing of motives in the Christian\nsystem, any delicacy that may be felt, as if the hope of reward might\ninterfere with a due sense of obligation to sovereign grace, must spring\nfrom an obscured and faulty perception of scriptural doctrines. The\nintelligent Christian, on the contrary, when, in simplicity of heart, he\ncalculates upon the promises of Heaven; and when, with a distinct\nreckoning of the \"great gain\" of such an investment, he \"lays up for\nhimself treasures that cannot fail;\" is, at the same time, taught and\nimpelled by the strongest emotions of the heart, to connect his hope of\nrecompense with his hope of pardon. And when the one class of ideas is\nthus linked to the other, he perceives that the economy which\nestablishes a system of rewards for present services can be nothing else\nthan an arbitrary arrangement of sovereign goodness, resolving itself\naltogether into the grace of the mediatorial scheme. The retribution,\nhow accurately soever it may be measured out according to the work\nperformed, must, in its whole amount, be still a pure gratuity; not less\nso than is the gift of immortal life, conferred without probation upon\nthe aborigines of heaven. The zealous and faithful servant who enters\nupon his reward after a long term of labor, and the infant of a day, who\nflits at once from the womb to the skies, alike receive the boon of\nendless bliss in virtue of their relationship to the second Adam, \"the\nLord from heaven.\" Nevertheless, this boon shall conspicuously appear,\nin the one case, to be the apportioned wages of service, an exact\nrecompense, measured, and weighed, and doled out in due discharge of an\nexplicit engagement; while in the other, it can be nothing but a\nsovereign bestowment.\n\nBut it is manifest that this doctrine of future recompense, when held in\nconnection with the fundamental principles of Christianity\u2014justification\nby faith, tends directly to allay and disperse those excitements which\nnaturally spring up with the zeal of active benevolence. The series or\norder of sentiments is this:\u2014\n\nThe Christian philanthropist, if well instructed, dares not affect\nindifference to the promised reward, or pretend to be more disinterested\nthan were the Apostles, who labored, \"knowing that in due time they\nshould reap.\" He cannot think himself free to overlook a motive\ndistinctly held out before him in the Scriptures: to do so were an\nimpious arrogance. And yet, if he does accept the promise of recompense,\nand takes it up as an inducement to diligence, he is compelled by a\nsense of the manifold imperfections of his services, to fall back\nconstantly upon the divine mercies as they are assured to transgressors\nin Christ. These humbling sentiments utterly refuse to cohere with the\ncomplacencies of a selfish and vain-glorious philanthropy, and\nnecessitate a subdued tone of feeling. Thus the very height and\nexpansion of the Christian's hopes send the root of humility deep and\nwide; the more his bosom heaves with the hope of \"the exceeding great\nreward,\" the more is it quelled by the consciousness of demerit. The\ncounterpoise of opposing sentiments is so managed, that elevation cannot\ntake place on the one side without an equal depression on the other; and\nby the counteraction of antagonist principles the emotions of zeal may\nreach the highest possible point, while full provision is made for\ncorrecting the vertigo of enthusiasm.\n\nIf, in the early ages of the Church, the expectation of future reward\nwas abused, to the damage of fundamental principles, in modern times an\nill-judged zeal for the integrity of those principles has produced an\nalmost avowed jealousy towards many explicit declarations of Scripture:\nthus, the nerves of labor are either relaxed by the withdrawment of\nproper stimulants, or are absolutely severed by the bold hand of\nantinomian delusion.\n\nMoreover, a course of Christian beneficence is one peculiarly exposed to\nreverses, to obstructions, and often to active hostility; and if the\nzeal of the philanthropist be in any considerable degree alloyed with\nthe sinister motives of personal vanity, or be inflamed with enthusiasm,\nthese reverses produce despondency; or opposition and hostility kindle\ncorrupt zeal into fanatical virulence. The injection of a chemical test\ndoes not more surely bring out the element with which it has affinity,\nthan does opposition, in an attempt to do good, make conspicuous the\npresence of unsound motives, if any such have existed. Has it not\nhappened that when benevolent enterprises have consisted in a direct\nattack upon systems of cruel or fraudulent oppression, the quality of\nthe zeal by which some were actuated in lending their clamors to the\nchampions of humanity, has become manifest whenever the issue seemed\ndoubtful, or the machinations of diabolical knavery gained a momentary\ntriumph? Then, the partisans of truth and mercy, forgetful, alas! of\ntheir principles, have broke out almost into the violence of political\nfaction, and have hardly scrupled to employ the dark methods which\nfaction loves.\n\nBut there is a delicacy, a reserve, a sobriety, an humbleness of heart,\nbelonging to the hope of heavenly recompense, which powerfully repels\nall such malign emotions. Who can imagine the circumstances and feelings\nof the great day of final reward, and think of hearing the approving\nvoice of him who \"searches the heart,\" and at the same time be told by\nconscience that the zeal which gives life to his labors in the cause of\nthe oppressed ferments with the gall and acrimony of worldly animosity,\nthat this zeal prompts him to indulge in exaggerations, if not to\npropagate calumnies; and exults much more in the overthrow of the\noppressor, than in the redemption of the captive? If the greatness of\nthe future reward proves that it must be altogether \"of grace, not of\ndebt,\" then, unquestionably, must it demand in the recipient a temper\npurified from the leaven of malice and hatred. Thus does the Christian\ndoctrine of future reward correct the evil passions that are incident to\na course of benevolence.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIV. Christian beneficence is only the subordinate instrument of a higher\nand efficient agency. \"Neither is he that planteth anything, nor he that\nwatereth; but God that giveth the increase.\" Such, on the scriptural\nplan, are the conditions of all labor, undertaken from motives of\nreligious benevolence. But the besetting sin of natural benevolence is\nself-complacency and presumption. It is perhaps as hard to find\nsanctimoniousness apart from hypocrisy, or bashfulness without pride, as\nto meet with active and enterprising philanthropy not tainted by the\nspirit of overweening vanity. The kind-hearted schemer, fertile in\ndevices for beguiling mankind into virtue, and rich in petty\ningenuities, always well-intended, and seldom well-imagined, verily\nbelieves that his machineries of instruction or reform require only to\nbe put fairly in play, and they will bring heaven upon earth.\n\nBut Christianity, if it does not sternly frown upon these novelties,\ndoes not encourage them; and while it depicts the evils that destroy the\nhappiness of man as of much deeper and more inveterate malignity than\nthat they should be remedied by this or that specious method, devised\nyesterday, tried to-day, and abandoned to-morrow, most explicitly\nconfines the hope of success to those who possess the temper of mind\nproper to a dependent and subordinate agent. All presumptuous confidence\nin the efficiency of second causes is utterly repugnant to the spirit\nthat should actuate a Christian philanthropist; and the more so when the\ngood which he strives to achieve is of the highest kind.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nV. Lastly, Christian beneficence is the expression of grateful love. The\nimportance attributed throughout the New Testament to active charity is\nnot more remarkable than is this peculiarity which merges the natural\nand spontaneous sentiments of good-will and compassion towards our\nfellows, in an emotion of a deeper kind, and virtually denies merit and\ngenuineness to every feeling, how amiable soever it may appear, if it\ndoes not thus fall into subordination to that devout affection which we\nowe to him who redeemed us by his sufferings and death. The reasons of\nthis remarkable constitution of motives it is not difficult to perceive.\nFor, in the first place, it is evident that the love of the Supreme\nBeing can exist in the heart only as a dominant sentiment, drawing every\nother affection into its wake. Even the softest and purest tendernesses\nof our nature must yield precedence to the higher attachment of the\nsoul; for he who does not love Christ more than \"father and mother, wife\nand children,\" loves him not. Much more, then, must the sentiment of\ngeneral benevolence own the same subordination. Again; as the promise of\nfuture recompense, and the doctrine of dependence upon divine agency,\nelevate the motives of benevolence from the level of earth to that of\nheaven, they would presently assume a character of dry and visionary\nabstraction, unless animated by an emotion of love, belonging to the\nsame sphere. Zeal without love were a preposterous and dangerous\npassion: but Christian zeal must be warmed by no other love than that of\nhim who, \"for our sakes became poor, that we through his poverty might\nbe made rich.\"\n\nIt has already been said that religious enthusiasm takes its\ncommencement from the point where the emotions of the heart are\ntransmuted into mere pleasures of the imagination; and assuredly the\nexcitements incident to a course of beneficence are very likely to\nfurnish occasions to such a transmutation. But the capital motive of\ngrateful affection to him who has redeemed us from sin and sorrow,\nprevents, so far as it is in active operation, this deadening of the\nheart, and consequent quickening of the imagination. The poor and the\nwretched are the Lord's representatives on earth; and in doing them good\nwe cherish and express feelings which otherwise must lie latent, or\nbecome vague, seeing that he to whom they relate is remote from our\nsenses.\n\nThis motive of affection to the Lord makes provision, moreover, against\nthe despondences that attend a want of success; for although a servant\nof Christ may, to his life's end, labor in vain, although the objects of\nhis disinterested kindness should \"turn and rend him;\" yet, not the\nless, has he approved his loyalty and love; approved it even more\nconspicuously than those can have done whose labors are continually\ncheered and rewarded by prosperous results. Affection, in such cases,\nhas sustained the trial, not merely of toil, but of fruitless toil, than\nwhich none can be more severe to a zealous and devoted heart.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIt appears, then, that Christian benevolence contains within itself a\nbalancing of motives, such as to leave room for the utmost imaginable\nenhancement of zeal without hazard of extravagance. In truth, it is easy\nto perceive that the religion of the Bible has in reserve a spring of\nmovement, a store of intrinsic vigor, ready to be developed in a manner\ngreatly surpassing what has hitherto been seen. Such a day of\ndevelopment shall ere long arrive, the time of the triumph of divine\nprinciples shall come, and a style of true heroism be displayed, of\nwhich the seeds have been long sown; of which some samples have already\nbeen furnished; and which waits only the promised refreshment from above\nto appear, not in rare instances only, but as the common produce of\nChristianity.\n\nIn the present state of the world and of the Church, when communications\nare so instantaneous, and when attention is so much alive to whatever\nconcerns the welfare of mankind, if it might be imagined that a great\nand sudden extension of Christianity should take place in the regions of\nsuperstition and polytheism; and that yet no corresponding improvement\nof piety, no purifying, no refreshment, no enhancement of motives,\nshould occur in the home of Christianity, there is reason to believe\nthat the influx of excitement might generate a blaze of destructive\nenthusiasm. If every day had its tidings of wonder\u2014the fall of popery in\nthe neighboring nations\u2014the abandonment of the Mohammedan delusion by\npeople after people in Asia\u2014the rejection of idols by China and India;\nand if these surprising changes, instead of producing the cordial joy of\ngladdened faith, were gazed at merely with an unholy and prurient\ncuriosity, and were thundered forth from platforms by heartless\ndeclaimers, and were grasped at by visionary interpreters of futurity;\nthen, from so much agitation, uncorrected by a proportionate increase of\ngenuine piety, new prodigies of error would presently start up, new\nsects break away from the body, new hatreds be kindled: and nothing\nscarcely be left in the place of Christianity, but dogmas and\ncontentions. Thus the cradle of religion in modern times would become\nits grave.\n\nBut a far happier anticipation is with reason indulged; for it may well\nbe believed that the same Benignant Influence which is to remove the\ncovering of gross ignorance from the nations, shall, at the same moment,\nscatter the dimness that still hovers over the Church in its most\nfavored home; and then, and under that influence, the fervors of\nChristian zeal may reach the height even of a seraphic energy, and yet\nwithout enthusiasm.\n\n\n\n\nSECTION VIII.\n\nSKETCH OF THE ENTHUSIASM OF THE ANCIENT CHURCH.\n\n\nAn intelligent Christian, fraught with scriptural principles in their\nsimplicity and purity, but hitherto uninformed of Church history, who\nshould peruse discursively the ecclesiastical writers of the age of\nJerom, Ambrose, and Basil, would presently recoil with an emotion of\ndisappointment, perplexity, and alarm. That within a period which does\nnot exceed the reach of oral tradition, the religion of the apostles\nshould have so much changed its character, and so much have lost its\nbeauty, he could not have supposed possible. He has heard indeed of the\ncorruptions of popery, and of the enormous abuses prevalent in \"the dark\nages;\" and he has been told too, by those who had a special argument to\nprop, that the era of the secular prosperity of the church was that also\nof the incipient corruption of religion. But he finds in fact that there\nis scarcely an error of doctrine, or an absurdity of practice,\nordinarily attributed to the popes and councils of later times, and\ncommonly included in the indictment against Rome, which may not, in its\nelements, or even in a developed form, be traced to the writings of\nthose whose ancestors, at the third or fourth remove only, were the\nhearers of Paul and John.\n\nBut after the first shock of such an unprepared perusal of the fathers\nhas passed, and when calm reflection has returned, and especially when,\nby taking up these early writers from the commencement, the progression\nof decay and perversion has been gradually and distinctly contemplated,\nthen, though the disappointment will in great part remain, the appalling\nsurmises at first engendered in the modern reader's mind, will be\ndispelled, and he will even be able to pursue his course of reading with\npleasure, and to derive from it much solid instruction. Considerations\nsuch as the following will naturally present themselves to him in\nmitigation of his first painful impressions.\n\nWhile contemplating in their infant state those notions and practices\n(of the third century, for example) which afterwards swelled into\nenormous evils, it is difficult not to view them as if they were loaded\nwith the blame of their after issues; and then it is hard not to\nattribute to their originators and promoters the accumulated criminality\nthat should be shared in small portions by the men of many following\ngenerations. But the individuals thus unfairly dealt by, far from\nforecasting the consequences of the sentiments and usages they favored,\nfar from viewing them, as we do, darkened by the cloud of mischiefs that\nwas heaped upon them in after times, saw the same objects bright and\nfair in the recommendatory gleam of a pure and a venerated age. The very\nabuses which make the twelfth century abhorrent on the page of history,\nwere, in the fourth, fragrant with the practice and suffrage of a\nblessed company of primitive confessors. The remembered saints, who had\ngiven their bodies to the flames, had also lent their voice and example\nto those unwise excesses which at length drove true religion from the\nearth. Untaught by experience, the ancient church surmised not of the\noccult tendencies of the course it pursued, nor should be loaded with\nconsequences which human sagacity could not well have foreseen.\n\nEach of the great corruptions of later ages took its rise, in the first,\nsecond, or third century, in a manner which it would be harsh to say was\ndeserving of strong reprehension. Thus the secular domination exercised\nby the bishops, and at length supremely by the bishops of Rome, may be\ntraced very distinctly to the proper respect paid by the people, even in\nthe apostolic age, to the disinterested wisdom of their bishops in\ndeciding their worldly differences. The worship of images, the\ninvocation of saints, and the superstition of relics, were but\nexpansions of the natural feeling of veneration and affection cherished\ntowards the memory of those who had suffered and died for the truth. And\nthus, in like manner, the errors and abuses of monkery all sprang, by\nimperceptible augmentations, from sentiments perfectly natural to the\nsincere and devout Christian in times of persecution, disorder, and\ngeneral corruption of morals.\n\nAgain: human nature, which is far more uniform than may be imagined,\nwhen suddenly it is beheld under some new aspect of time and country, is\nalso susceptible of much greater diversities of habit and feeling than\nthose are willing to believe who have seen it on no side but one. This\ndouble lesson, taught by history and travel, should be well learned by\nevery one who undertakes to estimate the merits of men that have lived\nin remote times, and under other skies.\n\nA caution against the influence of narrow prejudice is obviously more\nneedful in relation to the persons and practices of ancient\nChristianity, than when common history is the subject of inquiry; for in\nwhatever relates to religion, every one carries with him, not merely the\nordinary prepossessions of time and country, but an unbending standard\nof conduct and temper, which he is forward to compare, in his particular\nmanner, with whatever offends his notions of right. But though the rule\nof Scripture morals is unchangeable, and must be applied with\nuncompromising impartiality to human nature under every variety of\ncircumstance, yet is it impractible, at the distance of upwards of a\nthousand years, so fully to calculate those circumstances, and so to\nperceive the motives of conduct, as is necessary for estimating fairly\nthe innocence or the criminality of particular actions or habits of\nlife. The question of abstract fitness, and that of personal\nblameworthiness, should ever be kept apart: at least they should be kept\napart when it is asked\u2014and we are often tempted to ask it in the perusal\nof church history\u2014May such men be deemed Christians, who acted and\nwrote thus and thus? Before a doubt of this kind could be solved\nsatisfactorily, we must know\u2014what can never be known till the day of\nuniversal discovery\u2014how much of imperfection and obliquity may consist\nwith the genuineness of real piety; and again, how much of real\nobliquity there might be, under the actual circumstances of the case, in\nthe conduct in question. Who can doubt that if the memorials of the\npresent times, copious, and yet inadequate as they must be, shall remain\nto a distant age, they will offer similar perplexities to the future\nreader, who, amidst his frequent admiration or approval, will be\ncompelled to exclaim\u2014But how may we think these men to have been\nChristians? Christianity is in gradual process of reforming the\nprinciples and practices of mankind, and when the sanative operation\nshall have advanced some several stages beyond its present point, the\nnotions and usages of our day, compared with the commands of Christ, as\nthen understood, will, no doubt, seem incredibly defective.\n\nPerhaps it may be said, that in all matters of sentiment, depending on\nphysical temperament, and modes of life, the people of the British\nislands are less qualified to appreciate the merits of the nations of\nantiquity than almost any other people of Christendom; and perhaps,\nalso, by national arrogance and pertinacity of taste, we are less ready\nto bend indulgently to usages unlike our own than any other people.\nStiff in the resoluteness of an exaggerated notion of the right of\nprivate judgment, we bring all things unsparingly to the one standard of\nbelief and practice; or rather to our particular pattern of that\nstandard; and do not, until our better nature prevails, own brotherhood\nwith Christians of another complexion and costume. A somewhat austere\ngood sense, belonging, first, to the haughtiness and energy of the\nEnglish character, then to the liberality of our political institutions,\nand lastly, but not least, to the all-pervading spirit and habits of\ntrade, renders the style of the early Christian writers much more\ndistasteful to us than it has proved to Christians of other countries.\nMoreover, recent enhancements of the national character, resulting from\nthe diffusion of the physical sciences, and from the more extended\nprevalence of commercial feelings, have placed those writers at a point\nmuch further removed from our predilections than that at which they\nstood a century ago.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nBut again: in abatement of the chagrin which a well-instructed Christian\nmust feel in first opening the remains of ecclesiastical literature, it\nmust be remembered, that these works offer a very defective image of the\nstate of religion at the era of their production; that is to say, of\nreligion in its _recesses_, which are truly the homes of Christianity.\nThose who _write_ are by no means always those among the ministers of\nreligion whom it would be judicious to select as the best samples of the\nspirit of their times. Moreover, it is the taste of a following age that\nhas determined which among the writers of the preceding period should be\ntransmitted to posterity; and in many instances, it is manifest, that a\ndepraved preference has given literary canonization to authors whose\nambition was much rather to shine as masters of a florid eloquence, than\nto feed the flock of Christ. It was therefore an egregious error to\nsuppose that the spiritual character of the Church lies broadly on the\nsurface of its extant literature: on the contrary, charity may easily\nfind large room for pleasing conjectures relative to obscure piety, of\nwhich no traces are to be found on the pages of saints and bishops. The\nrecord of the spiritual church is \"on high,\"\u2014not in the tomes that make\nour libraries proud.\n\nThese, and other considerations, which will present themselves to a\ncandid and intelligent mind, cannot but remove much of the embarrassment\nand disrelish that are likely to attend a first converse with ancient\ndivinity. And the pious reader will proceed with heartfelt satisfaction\nto collect evidence of the fact, which some modern sophists have so much\nlabored to obscure, that the rudiments, at least, of revealed religion,\nas now understood by the mass of Christians, were then firmly held by\nthe body of the Church. And he will rejoice also to meet with not less\nsatisfactory proofs of the energy and intenseness of practical\nChristianity among a large number of those who made profession of the\nname.\n\nNevertheless, after every fair allowance has been made, and every\nindulgence given to diversity of circumstance, and after the errors and\ndisgraces of our own times have been placed in counterpoise to those of\nthe ancient church, there will remain glaring indications of a\ndeep-seated corruption of religious sentiment, leaving hardly a single\nfeeling proper to the Christian life in its purity and simplicity. It is\nnot heresy, it is not the denial of the principal scriptural doctrines,\nthat is to be charged on the ancient church; the body of divinity held\nits integrity. Nor is it the want of heroic virtue that we lament. But a\ntransmutation of the objects of the devout affections into objects of\n_imaginative delectation_ had taken place, had rendered the piety of a\nnumerous class purely fictitious, had tinged, more or less, with\nidealism, the religious sentiments of all but a few, and had opened the\nway by which entered at length, the dense and fatal delusions of a\nsuperstition so gross as hardly to retain a redeeming quality.\n\nNot a few of the Christians of the third century, and multitudes in the\nfourth and fifth, especially among the recluses, having lost the\nforcible and genuine feeling of guilt and danger, proper to those who\nconfess themselves transgressors of the divine law, and in consequence\nbecome blind to the real purport of the Gospel, fixed their gaze upon\nthe ideal splendors of Christianity, were smitten with the phase it\npresents, of beauty, of sublimity, of infinitude, of intellectual\nelevation, were charmed with its supposed doctrine of abstraction from\nmundane agitations; and found within the sphere of its revelations\nunfathomable depths, where vague meditation might plunge and plunge with\nendless descents. Fascinated, deluded, and still blinded more by the\ndeepening shades of error, they forgot almost entirely the emotions of a\ntrue repentance, and of a cordial faith, and of a cheerful obedience;\nand in the rugged path of gratuitous afflictions, and unnatural\nmortifications, pursued a spectral resemblance of piety, unsubstantial\nand cold as the mists of night.\n\nWhile hundreds were fatally infatuated by this enthusiastic religion,\nthe piety of thousands was more or less impaired by their mere\nadmiration of it; and very few altogether escaped the sickening\ninfection which its presence spread through the church. A volume might\nsoon be filled with proofs of this assertion, drawn exclusively from the\nwritings of those of the fathers who retained most of the vigor of\nnative good sense, and who held nearest to the purity of Christian\ndoctrine. The works of Chrysostom would afford abundant illustration of\nthis sort. Let his Epistle to the Monks be singled out, which contains\nmany admirable instructions and exhortations on the subject of prayer;\nand which, with much propriety, recommends the practice of ejaculatory\nsupplication. Nevertheless, there is scarcely a passage quoted from the\nScriptures in this piece that is not distorted from its obvious and\nsimple meaning, in such a manner as would best comport with the\npractices and notions of the ascetic life. If the meaning put by\nChrysostom upon the texts he adduces be the true one, then must a large\npart of the inspired writings be deemed altogether useless to those who\nhave not abjured the duties of common life. Or if such persons may still\nbe permitted to enjoy their part in the Scriptures, not less than the\nmonks, then must we suppose a _double sense_ throughout the Bible. In\nfact the notion of a double sense flowed inevitably from the monkish\ninstitution, and wrought immense mischief in the church.\n\nModern writers of a certain class have expatiated with disproportionate\namplification upon the open and flagrant corruptions which, as it is\nalleged, followed as a natural consequence from the secular\naggrandizement of the clergy, when a voice from the heavens of political\npower said to the church, \"Come up hither.\" No doubt an enhancement and\nexpansion of pride, ambition, luxuriousness, and every mundane passion,\ntook place at Rome, at Constantinople, at Alexandria, at Antioch, and\nelsewhere, when emperors, instead of oppressing, or barely tolerating\nthe doctrine of Christ, bowed obsequiously to his ministers. But the\nvery same evils, far from being called into existence by the breath of\nimperial favor, had reached a bold height even while the martyrs were\nstill bleeding. And moreover, how offensive or injurious soever these\nscandals might be, either before or after the epoch of the political\ntriumph of the cross, they did but scathe the exterior of Christianity.\nIn every age the vices, always duly blazoned, of secular churchmen, have\nstained its surface. But when there has been warmth and purity within,\nthe mischief occasioned by such evils has scarcely been more than that\nof giving point to the railleries of men who would still have scoffed,\nthough not a bishop had been arrogant, nor a presbyter licentious.\n\nChristianity had lost its simplicity and glory in the hands of its most\ndevoted friends long before the alliance between the church and the\nworld had taken place. The copious history of this internal perversion\nwould afford a worthy subject of diligent inquiry; and though materials\nfor a complete explication of the process of corruption are not in\nexistence, enough remains to invite and reward the necessary labor.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe enthusiasm of the ancient Church presents itself under several\ndistinct forms, among which the following may be mentioned as the most\nconspicuous:\u2014the enthusiasm of voluntary martyrdom; that of miraculous\npretension; that of prophetical interpretation, or millenarianism; that\nof the mystical exposition of Scripture; and that of monachism. Of\nthese, the last, whether or not it was truly the parent of the other\nkinds, includes them all as parts of itself; for whatever perversions of\nChristianity were chargeable upon the sentiments and practices of the\ngeneral church, the same belonged by eminence to the recluses. A review\nof the principles and the ingredients of this system will better accord\nwith the limits and design of this essay, than an extended examination\nof facts under the several heads just named.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nA strict equity has by no means always been observed by protestant\nwriters in their criminations of the Romish Church. With the view of\naggravating the just and necessary indignation of mankind against the\nmother of corruption, it has been usual to lay open the concealments of\nthe monastery; and with materials before him so various and so copious,\neven the dullest writer might cheaply be entertaining, eloquent, and\nvigorous. Meantime it is not duly considered, or not fairly stated, that\nthe reprobation passes back, in full force, to an age much more remote\nthan that of the supremacy of Rome. The bishops of Rome did but avail\nthemselves of the aid of a system which had reached a full maturity\nwithout their fostering care; a system which had been sanctioned and\ncherished, almost without an exception, by every father of the church,\neastern and western; which had come down in its elements even from the\nprimitive age, and which had won for itself a suffrage so general, if\nnot universal, that he must have possessed an extraordinary measure of\nwisdom, courage, and influence, who should have ventured beyond a\ncautious and moderated censure of its more obvious abuses.\n\nEvery essential principle, almost every adjunct, and almost every vice\nof the monkery of the tenth or twelfth century, may be detected in that\nof the fourth: or if an earlier period were named, proof would not be\nwanting to make the allegation defensible. But if it be affirmed, or if\nit could be proved, that the actual amount of hypocrisy and corruption\nusually sheltered beneath the roof of the monastery, was greater in the\nlater than in the earlier age, it should as a counterpoise be stated,\nthat in the later period the religious houses contained almost all the\npiety and learning that anywhere existed: while in the former there was\ncertainly as much piety without as within these seclusions; and much\nmore of learning. The monkery of the middle ages, moreover, stands\npartially excused by the dense ignorance of the times; while that of the\nancient Church is condemned by the surrounding light, both of human and\ndivine knowledge. The very establishments which redeem the age of Roger\nBacon from oblivion and contempt, do but blot the times of Gregory\nNazianzen.\n\nEusebius, followed by several later writers, asserts, although in\nopposition to the most explicit evidence, and manifestly for the purpose\nof giving sanction to a system so much admired in his time, that the\nChristian sodalities were directly derived from those of the Essenes and\nTherapeutics of Judea and Egypt, whom he affirms to have been Christian\nrecluses of the first century, indebted for their rules and\nestablishment to St. Mark. The testimony of the Jew Philo gives\nconclusive contradiction to this sinister averment; not to mention that\nof the elder Pliny, and of Josephus; for the minute description given by\nthat writer of the opinions and observances of the sect, besides that it\nis incompatible with the supposition that the people spoken of were\nChristians, was actually composed in the lifetime of Paul and Peter, and\nthe recluses are _then_ mentioned as having long existed under the same\nregulations. Nevertheless, the coincidence between the sentiments and\npractices of the Jewish and of the Christian monks, is too complete to\nbe attributed either to accident, or merely to the influence of general\nprinciples, operating alike in both instances; and the more limited\nassertion of Photius may safely be adopted, who affirms that \"the sect\nof Jews that followed a philosophic life, whether contemplative or\nactive\u2014the one called Essenes, the other Therapeutics\u2014not only founded\nmonasteries and private sanctuaries, but laid down the rules which have\nbeen adopted by those who, in our own times, lead a solitary life.\"\n\nA reference to the previous existence of monasticism among the Jews, in\na very specious, and, in some respects, commendable mode, is\nindispensable to the forming of an equitable judgment of the conduct of\nthose Christians in Palestine and Egypt, who first abandoned the duties\nof common life for the indulgence of their religious tastes. They did\nbut adopt a system already sanctioned by long usage, and which, though\nexisting in the time of Christ and the apostles, had not drawn upon\nitself from him or them any _explicit_ condemnation: and which might\neven plead a semblance of support from some of their injunctions,\nliterally understood, though plainly condemned by the spirit of\nChristianity.\n\nNor is this the sole circumstance that should, in mere justice, be\nconsidered in connection with the rise of Christian monachism; for\nbefore the mere facts can be understood, and certainly before the due\nmeasure of blame can be assigned to the parties concerned, it is\nindispensable that we divest ourselves of the prejudices, physical,\nmoral, and intellectual, which belong to our austere climate, high-toned\nirritability, edacious appetites, and pampered constitutions; to our\nrigid style of thinking, and to our commercial habits of feeling. The\nChristian of England in the nineteenth century, and the Christian of\nSyria in the second, stand almost at the extremest points of opposition\nin all the non-essentials of human nature; and the former must possess\ngreat pliability of imagination, and much of the philosophic temper, as\nwell as the spirit of Christian charity, fairly and fully to appreciate\nthe motives and conduct of the latter.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThat quiescent under-action of the mind to which we apply the term\nmeditation, is a habit of thought that has been engrafted upon the\nEuropean intellect in consequence of the reception of Christianity. It\nis a product almost as proper to Asia as are the aromatics of Arabia, or\nthe spices of India. The human mind does not everywhere expand in this\nmanner, nor spontaneously show these hues of heaven, nor emit this\nfragrance, except under the fervent suns and deep azure skies of\ntropical regions. Persia and India were the native soils of the\ncontemplative philosophy; as Greece was the source of the ratiocinative.\nThe immense difference between the Asiatic and the European turn of\nmind\u2014if the familiar phrase may be used\u2014becomes conspicuous if some\npages of either the logic or ethics of Aristotle are compared with what\nremains of the sentiments of the Gnostics. The influence of Christianity\nupon the moderns has been to temper the severity of the ratiocinative\ntaste, with a taste for contemplation\u2014contemplation by so much the\nbetter than that of the oriental sages, as it takes its range in the\nheart, not in the imagination. If the Hebrew and Christian Scriptures\nhad been confined to the east, as in fact they have been almost confined\nto the west, the modern nations of Europe would perhaps have known as\nlittle of the compass of the meditative faculty, and of its delights, as\ndid the Romans in the age of Sylla. The Greeks, being near to Asia\ngeographically, and near by similarity of climate, and near by the\nrepeated importations of eastern philosophy, imbibed something of the\nspirit of tranquil abstraction: yet was it foreign to the genius of that\nrestless and reasoning people. Pythagoras probably, and certainly Plato,\nwhose mind was almost as much Asiatic as Grecian, and whose writings are\nanomalies in Grecian literature, effected a partial amalgamation of the\noriental with the western style of thought. Yet the foreign mixture\nwould probably have disappeared if Christianity had not afterwards\ndiffused eastern sentiments through the west. The combination was again\ncemented by the writings of those fathers who, after having studied\nPlato, and taught the rhetoric and philosophy of Greece, devoted their\ntalents to the service of the Gospel.\n\nBut though the nations of the west have acquired a taste for this\nspecies of thought, it is the distinction of the Asiatic to meditate; as\nto reason and to act, is the glory of the European. To withdraw the soul\nfrom the senses, to divorce the exterior from the inner man, to detain\nthe spirit within its own circle, and to accustom it there to find its\nbliss; to penetrate the depths and concealments of the heart, to repose\nduring lengthened periods upon a single idea, without a wish for\nprogression or change; or to break away from the imperfections of the\nvisible world, to climb the infinite, to hold converse with supernal\nbeauty and excellence; these are the prerogatives and pleasures of the\nintellectualist of Asia: and this is a happiness which he enjoys in a\nperfection altogether unknown to the busy, nervous, and frigid people of\nthe north. If by favor of a peculiar temperament the oriental frees\nhimself from the solicitations of voluptuous indulgence; if the mental\ntastes are vivid enough to counteract the appetites; then he finds a\nlife of inert abstraction, of abstemiousness, and of solitude, not\nmerely easy, but delicious.\n\nThe lassitude which belongs to his constitution and climate more than\nsuffices to reconcile the contemplatist to the want of those enjoyments\nwhich are to be obtained only by toil. A genial temperature, and a\nlanguid stomach, reduce the necessary charges of maintenance to an\namount that must seem incredibly small to the well-housed, well-clothed,\nand high-fed people of northern Europe. The slenderest revenues are,\ntherefore, enough to free him from all cares of the present life. He has\nonly to renounce married life, its claims and its burdens, and then the\nskeleton machinery of his individual existence may be impelled in its\ndaily round of sluggish movement, by air, and water, and a lettuce.\n\nThe Asiatic character is in no inconsiderable degree affected by the\nhabits which result from the insufferable fervor of the sun at noon, and\nwhich compels a suspension of active employments during the broad light\nof day. The period of venial indolance easily extends itself through all\nthe hours of sultry heat, if necessity does not exact labor. And then\nthe quiescence in which the day has been passed lends an elasticity of\nmind to the hours of night, when the effulgent magnificence of the\nheavens kindles the imagination, and enhances meditation to ecstasy. How\nlittle beneath the lowering, and chilly, and misty skies of Britain, can\nwe appreciate the power of these natural excitements of mental\nabstraction!\n\nIn an enumeration of the natural causes of the anchoretic life, the\ninfluence of scenery should by no means be overlooked. As the gay and\nmultiform beauties of a broken surface, teeming with vegetation (when\nseconded by favoring circumstances) generate the soul of poetry; so\n(with similar aids) the habit of musing in pensive vacuity of thought is\ncherished by the aspect of boundless wastes, and arid plains, or of\nenormous piles of naked mountain: and to the spirit that has turned with\nsickening or melancholy aversion from the haunts of man, such scenes are\nnot less grateful or less fascinating than are the most delicious\nlandscapes to the frolic eye of joyous youth. The wilderness of the\nJordan, the stony tracts of Arabia, the precincts of Sinai, and the dead\nsolitudes of sand traversed, but not enlivened by the Nile, offered\nthemselves, therefore, as the natural birth-places of monachism; and\nskirting as they did the focus of religion, long continued (indeed they\nhave never wholly ceased) to invite numerous desertions from the ranks\nof common life.\n\nA general and extreme corruption of manners, the wantonness, and folly,\nand enormity of licentious opulence, and the foul depravity which never\nfails to characterise the misery that follows the steps of luxury,\noperate powerfully in the way of reaction to exacerbate the motives and\nto swell the excesses of the ascetic life, when once that mode of\nreligion has been called into being. If the \"powers of the world to\ncome\" are vividly felt by those who renounce sensual pleasure, the vigor\nof their self-denial, and the firmness of their resolution in adhering\nto their rule, will commonly bear proportion to the depth of the\nsurrounding profligacy. Nothing could more effectually starve this\nspecies of enthusiasm in any country in which it appeared to be growing,\nthan to elevate public morals. The exaggerated virtue of the monastery\ncan hardly subsist in the near neighborhood of the genuine virtue of\ndomestic life; nor will religious celibacy be in high esteem among a\npeople who regard adultery, not less than murder and theft, as a crime,\nand with whom fornication is the cloaked vice only of a few. But in\nSyria and the neighboring countries, at the time when the monastic life\ntook its rise, the most shameless dissoluteness of manners prevailed,\nand prevailed to a degree that has rarely been exceeded; and there is\nreason to believe that the early establishments of the Essenes were, in\na great measure, peopled by those who, having imbibed the love of virtue\nfrom Moses and the prophets, fled, almost by necessity, from a world in\nwhich the practice of temperance and purity had become scarcely\npossible. In after times, the corruption of the great cities, in a\nsimilar manner, contributed to fill the monastic houses. The evidence of\nJosephus (often cited) though there may sometimes be traced in it a\nlittle oratorical exaggeration, is sufficient to prove the existence of\na more than ordinary profligacy and ferocity among the Jews of his time.\nThis people, destitute of the restraining and refining influence of\nphilosophy and of elegant literature, which ameliorated the manners of\nthe surrounding nations, had been deprived, almost entirely, of all\nsalutary restraints from the divine law by the corrupt evasions of\nrabbinical exposition. At the same time, the keen disappointment of the\nnational hope of universal dominion under the Messiah, exasperated their\nnative pride to madness.\n\nA large indulgence, to say no more, is therefore due to those ardent,\nbut feeble-minded persons, who, untaught by an experiment of the danger\nthey incurred, fell into the specious error of supposing that a just\nsolicitude for the preservation of personal virtue might excuse their\nwithdrawment from the duties of common life; and the more so as they\nwere willing to purchase a discharge from its claims by resigning their\nshare of its lawful delights. The Christian recluses fled from scenes in\nwhich, as they believed, purity could not breathe, to solitudes where\n(though no doubt they found themselves mistaken) they supposed it would\nflourish spontaneously. And in truth, though it must be much more\ndifficult to live virtuously under the provoking restraints of monastic\nvows, than amid the allowed enjoyments of domestic life, refined by\nChristianity, there may be room to question whether the balance might\nnot really be in favor of the monastery, when the only alternative was\nan abode with the most extreme profligacy.\n\nSo natural to young and ardent minds, under the first fervors of\nreligious feeling, is the wish to run far from the sight and hearing of\nseductive pleasure, and so plausibly may such a design recommend itself\nto the simple and sincere, that, even in our own times, if by any means\nthe general opinion of the Christian church could be brought round to\nfavor, or to allow, the practice of monastic seclusion, and if, instead\nof being on all sides reprobated and ridiculed, it were permitted,\nencouraged, and admired, the conjecture may be hazarded, that an\ninstantaneous rush from all our religious communities would take place,\nand a host of the ardent, the imaginative, the melancholic; not to\nmention the disappointed, the splenetic, and the fanatical, would\nabandon the domestic circle, and the scenes of business, to people\nsanctuaries of celibacy and prayer in every sequestered valley of our\nisland.[4]\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nBesides the ordinary miseries of frequent war, and of a foreign\ndomination, which afflicted, more or less, the other provinces of the\nRoman empire, the existence, among the Jews, of a species of fanaticism\nperfectly unparalleled, allowed the Syrian Palestine to taste very\nimperfectly, the benefit of temperate and vigorous rule. The intractable\nand malign infatuation of that people had so baffled the wisdom of the\nRoman government, and had so disturbed its wonted equanimity, as to\ncompel it to treat the unhappy Judea with unmeasured severity. Or if\nrespite were enjoyed from military inflictions, the brutal violences of\ntheir own princes, or the atrocities perpetrated by demagogues, kept\nconstantly alive the brand of public and private discord. During such\ntimes of insecurity and wretchedness, it is usual for the passive\nportion of the community to sink into a state, either of reckless\nsensuality, or of pining despondency. But if, in this class, there are\nthose who have received the consoling hope of a bright and peaceful\nimmortality, it is only natural that, when hunted from every earthly\ncomfort by violence and extortion, they should look wistfully at the\ngrave, and long to rest where \"the wicked cease from troubling.\" In this\nstate of mind it cannot be deemed strange that, upon the first smile of\nopportunity, they should hasten away from scenes of blood and wrong, and\nanticipate the wished-for release from life, by hiding themselves in\ncaverns and in deserts.\n\nThe most frightful solitude might well appear a paradise, and the most\nextreme privation be thought luxurious, to those who, in their retreat,\nfelt at length safe from an encounter with man, who, when savage, is by\nfar the most terrible of all savage animals. Such were the causes which\nhad driven multitudes of the well-disposed among the Jews into the\nwilderness. The severities of persecution afterwards produced the same\neffect on the Christians; and first on those of Syria and Egypt. This\neffect is well known to have resulted from the Decian persecution, and\nprobably also from those that preceded it. Little blame can be\nattributed to Christians who, in such times fled from cities, and took\nrefuge in solitudes; unless, indeed, by so doing they abandoned those\nwhom they ought to have defended.\n\nSo long as he could wander unmolested over the pathless mountain track,\nor exist in the arid desert, the timid follower of Christ not only\navoided torture or violent death, but escaped what he dreaded more\u2014the\nhazard of apostacy under extreme trial. Having once effected his\nretreat, and borne for a time the loss of friends and comforts, he soon\nacquired physical habits and intellectual tastes which rendered a life\nin the wilderness not only tolerable but agreeable. To the fearful and\ninert, safety and rest are the prime ingredients of happiness, and, if\nabsolute, they go far towards constituting a heaven upon earth.\n\nIn the utter solitude of the desert, or in the mitigated seclusion of\nthe monastery, a large proportion probably, of the recluses, soon\ndrooped into the inanity of trivial pietism: a few, perhaps, after the\nfirst excitement failed, bit their chain, from day to day, to the end of\nlife: or wrung a wretched solace from concealed vices. But those who, by\nvigor of mind, supported better the preying of the soul upon itself,\ncould do no otherwise than exchange the simple and affectionate piety\nwith which, perhaps they entered the wilderness, for some form of\nvisionary religion.[5] To maintain, unbent, the rectitude of sound\nreason, and unsullied, the propriety of sound feelings, in solitude, is\nan achievement, which, it may confidently be affirmed, surpasses the\npowers of human nature. Good sense, never the product of a single mind,\nis the fruit of intercourse and collision.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nWhen the several circumstances above mentioned are duly considered, they\nwill remove from candid minds almost every sensation of asperity or of\ncontemptuous reprobation, towards those who, in their day of defective\nknowledge, became the victims, or even the zealous supporters of the\nprevalent enthusiasm. We have done, then, with the parties in these\nscenes of delusion and folly; or at least with those of them who were\nsincere in their error. But when we turn to the system itself, and gain\nthat license which charity herself may grant, while an abstraction only\nis under contemplation, we must remember that this monkery, so innocent\nin its commencement, and so plausible in its progress, was the chief\nmeans of destroying the spiritual reality of Christianity, and ought to\nbe deemed the principle cause of that gross darkness which hung over the\nchurch during more than a thousand years.\n\n[4] This conjecture, hazarded in 1829, would seem now to be not unlikely\nto be, to some extent, realized.\n\n[5] The errors and extravagances generated by the monastic life did not\nordinarily extend to the fundamental principles of Christianity. The\nmonks were, for the most part, zealously attached to the doctrine of the\nNicene creed; and the church owes to many of them its thanks for the\nconstancy with which they suffered in its defence.\n\n\n\n\nSECTION IX.\n\nTHE SAME SUBJECT.\u2014INGREDIENTS OF THE ANCIENT MONACHISM.\n\n\nAmong the principal elements of the ancient Monachism, it is natural to\nname, first\u2014\n\nIts contempt of the divine constitution of human nature, and the outrage\nit offered to the most salutary instincts.\n\nIt may be difficult to determine which is the greater folly and impiety,\nthat of the Atheist, who can contemplate the admirable mechanism of the\nbody, and not see there the proofs of divine wisdom and benevolence; or\nthat of the Enthusiast, who, seeing and acknowledging the hand of God in\nthe mechanism of the human frame, yet dares to institute, and to\nrecommend, modes of life which do violence to the manifest intentions of\nthe Creator, as therein displayed; and, moreover, is not afraid to\nassert a warrant from Heaven for such outrages; as if the Creator and\nGovernor of the world were not one and the same Being;\u2014one in counsel\nand purpose: or as if the Author of Christianity were at variance with\nthe Author of nature! Yet this preposterous error, this virtual\nManich\u00e6ism, has seemed to belong naturally to every attempt to stretch\nand exaggerate the precepts of the Gospel beyond their obvious sense;\nand indeed has seldom failed to show itself in seasons of unusual\nreligious excitement.\n\nChristianity is a religion neither for angels nor for ghosts; but for\nman, as God made him. Nevertheless, in revealing an endless existence,\nand in establishing the paramount claims of the future world, it has\nplaced every interest of the present transient life under a comparison\nof immense disparity; so that it is true\u2014true to a demonstration, that a\nman ought to \"hate his own life\" if the love of it puts his welfare for\nimmortality in jeopardy. Unquestionably, if by such means the well-being\nof the imperishable spirit could be secured and promoted, it would\nhighly become a wise man to pass the residue of life, though it should\nhold out half a century, upon the summit of a column, exposed, like a\nbronze, to the alternations of day and night, of summer and winter; or\nto stand speechless and fixed, with the arms extended, until the joints\nshould stiffen, and the tongue forget its office; or to inhabit a tomb,\nor to hang suspended in the air by a hook in the side: these, and if\nthere be any other practices still more horrifying to humanity, were\ndoubtless wise, if, in the use of them, the soul might be advantaged;\nfor the soul is of infinitely greater value than the body.\n\nAnd much more might it be deemed lawful and commendable to refrain from\nmatrimony, to withdraw from human society, to be clad in sackcloth, to\ninhabit a cavern, if such comparatively moderate abstinences and\nmortifications were found to promote virtue, and so to ensure an\nenhancement of the bliss that never ends. Conduct of this sort, however\npainful it may be, is perfectly in harmony with the principle\nuniversally admitted to be reasonable, and in fact very commonly reduced\nto practice, namely, to endure a smaller immediate loss or\ninconvenience, for the sake of securing greater future good.\n\nThe dictates of self-interest every day prompt sacrifices of this kind;\nand the maxims of natural virtue go much further, and often require a\nman to make the greatest deposit possible, even when the future\nadvantage is doubtful, and when it is not the sufferer who is to reap\nthe expected benefit! On this principle the soldier places himself at\nthe cannon's mouth, because the safety or future welfare of his country\ncan be purchased at no other price. On this principle a pious son denies\nthe wishes of his heart, and remains unmarried, that he may sustain a\nhelpless parent. Christianity is not therefore at all peculiar in\nasserting the claims of higher, over lower reasons of conduct, in\npeculiar circumstances, or in demanding that, on special occasions, the\nenjoyments of life, and life itself, should be held cheap, or abandoned.\n\nOur Lord and his ministers explicitly enjoined such sacrifices, whenever\nthe interests of the present and of the future life came in competition:\nand themselves set the example of the self-denial which they\nrecommended. Nothing can be more clear than the rule of bodily sacrifice\nmaintained and exemplified in the New Testament; and this rule is in\nperfect accordance with the dictates of good sense, and with the common\npractice of mankind. Fasting, celibacy, martyrdom, and such like\ncontrarieties to the \"will of the flesh,\" stand all on the same ground\nin the system of Christian morals: they are ills which a wise and pious\nman will cheerfully endure whenever he is so placed that they cannot be\navoided without damage or hazard to the soul, or to the souls of others.\nBut when no such alternative is presented, then the voluntary infliction\nbecomes, as well in religious as in secular affairs, a folly, an\nimpiety, and often a crime. To die without necessity, or to inflict\none's self without reason, is not only an absurdity; but a sin.\n\nAnd how immensely is this folly and immorality aggravated, when it is\nfound that the voluntary suffering, instead of being simply useless,\nbecomes, in its consequences, highly pernicious; and when, by abundant\nevidence, it is proved to generate the very worst corruptions and\nperversions to which human nature is liable! Such, clearly, are the\ninflictions of the monastic life\u2014the solitude, the abstinence, the\ncelibacy, the poverty!\n\nThe rule of Christian martyrdom is precise and unequivocal, and is such\nas absolutely to exclude every sort of spontaneous heroism. The\nmotive also by which the Christian should be sustained, is of a\nheart-affecting, not of an exciting kind; and the style of the apostles\nwhen alluding to this subject, is singularly sedate and reserved; nor is\nan idea introduced of a kind to inflame fanatical ambition. The reason\nof this caution is obvious; for to have kindled the enthusiasm of\nmartyrdom would have been to nullify the demonstration intended to be\ngiven to the world of the truth of Christianity. So long as martyrdom\nrested on the primitive basis (and it rested there, with few exceptions,\nuntil miraculous attestations had ceased to be afforded,) it yielded\nconclusive proof of the reality of the facts affirmed by the confessors.\nThat is to say, so long as Christians suffered only when suffering could\nbe avoided in no other way than by denying their profession; and so long\nas they endured tortures, and met death, in a spirit not raised above a\ncalm courage; or even displayed timidity or reluctance, such sufferings\nafforded direct demonstration of the sincerity of their belief; and\nthey, having been eye-witnesses of supernatural interpositions, and\nbeing often the very agents of miraculous power, their sincere belief,\nand their honesty, carried with it the proof of the facts so attested.\n\nBut when, at a later time, martyrdom was courted in a spirit of false\nheroism, and came to be endured in a corresponding style of enthusiastic\nexcitement, it lost almost the whole of its value as a proof of the\ntruth of Christianity. For it is well known to be within the compass of\nhuman nature to endure, unmoved and exultingly, the most extreme\ntorments in fanatical adherence to a religious tenet: but such\nsufferings evince nothing more than the firmness or the infatuation of\nthe victim. On the contrary, when the confessor has fallen into the\nhands of persecuting power by no imprudence or temerity of his own, and\nwhen he avails himself, with promptitude and calmness, of every legal\nand honorable means of self-defence or escape, and when he pleads truth\nand right in arrest of judgment, and at last yields to the stroke\nbecause nothing could avert it but the forfeiture of conscience, then it\nis manifest that a deliberate conviction is the real motive of his\nconduct: and then also, if he have had a personal knowledge of the\nfacts, for affirming which he dies, his death, on the surest principles\nof evidence, must be accepted as containing incontestible proof of those\nfacts.\n\nThe recluses were not the first to spoil the primitive practice of\nmartyrdom; but their principles greatly cherished the abuse when once it\nhad been introduced; and still more did their conduct and their writings\nenhance the pernicious superstitions which presently afterwards resulted\nfrom the foolish respect paid to the tombs and relics of confessors.\nThese trivial and idolatrous reverences of human heroism can find no\nroom of entrance until the great realities of Christianity have been\nforgotten; and until the humbling and peace-giving doctrine of atonement\nhas been lost sight of. The contrite heart, made glad by the assurance\nof pardon through the merit of him who alone has merit supererogatory,\nneither admits sentiments of vain glory for itself, nor is prone to\nyield excessive worship to the deeds of others.\n\nIt deserves particular notice that the martyrs of the Reformation in\nEngland, France, Spain, and Italy, with very few exceptions, suffered in\na spirit incomparably more sedate, and more nearly allied to that\ndisplayed and recommended by the apostles, than did the Christians,\ngenerally, of the third century. The reason of the difference is not\nobscure; these modern confessors understood the capital doctrine of\nChristianity much more fully and clearly than did those of the age of\nOrigen.\n\nCelibacy, though it may seem to be a kind of self-devotion less extreme\nthan voluntary martyrdom, was in fact a much greater, and a much worse\noutrage upon human nature. This fundamental article of the monkish\nsystem had evidently two distinct motives: the first, and probably\nthe originating cause of so extraordinary a practice, was the\nimpracticability of uniting the pleasures of seclusion and of lazy\nmeditation, with the duties and burdens of domestic life. The\nalternative was unavoidable, either to renounce the happiness and the\ncares of husband and father, or the spiritual luxuries of supine\ncontemplation. The one species of enjoyment offered itself precisely as\nthe price that must be paid for obtaining the other.[6]\n\nThe second motive of monkish celibacy, and which so gained ascendency\nover the first as to keep it almost wholly out of sight, sprung more\nimmediately from the centre illusion of the system; and the real nature\nof that illusion stands forward in this instance in a distinct and\ntangible form. The very germ of that transmuted piety, which, in the\nend, banished true religion from the church, may readily be brought\nunder inspection by tracing the natural history of the sentiment that\nattributes sanctity to single life.\n\nFor reasons that are obvious and highly important, a sentiment of\npudicity, which can never be thrown aside without reducing man to the\nlevel\u2014nay, below the level of the brutes, belongs to the primary link of\nthe social system. But this feeling, necessary as it is to the purity\nand the dignity of social life, suggests, by a close and easy affinity\nof ideas, the supposition of guilt as belonging to indulgence; and then\nthe correlative supposition of innocence, or of holiness, as belonging\nto continence. Nevertheless, feelings of this sort, when analyzed, will\nbe found to have their seat in the imagination exclusively, and only by\naccident to implicate the moral sense. They belong to that class of\nnatural illusions, which, in the combination of the various and\ndiscordant ingredients of human nature, serve to amalgamate what would\notherwise be utterly incompatible. Among all the natural illusions, or,\nas they might be termed, the pseudo-moral sentiments, there is not one\nwhich so nearly resembles the genuine sense of right and wrong as this,\nor one that is so intimately blended with them.\n\nIt is easy then to perceive the process by which infirm minds passed\ninto the error of attributing sanctity to celibacy. But the law of\nChristian purity knows of no such confusion of ideas. The very same\nauthority which forbids adultery, enjoins marriage; and so long as\nmorality is understood to consist in obedience to the declared will of\nGod, it can never be imagined that a man is defiled by living in\nmatrimony, any more than by \"eating with unwashen hands.\" But when once\nreligion has passed into the imagination, and when the sentiments which\nhave their seat in that faculty have become predominant, so as to crush\nor enfeeble those that belong to conscience, then is it inevitable that\nthe true purity which consists in \"keeping the commandments,\" should be\nsupplanted by that artificial holiness which is a mere refinement upon\nnatural instincts. Under the influence of false notions of this sort,\nnothing seems so saintly as for a man to shrink horrifically from the\ntouch of woman; nothing scarcely so spiritually degrading as to be a\nhusband and a father.[7] Impious and mad enthusiasm! and not only\nirreligious and absurd, but pestilent also; for this same monkish\ndoctrine of the merit of virginity stands convicted, on abundant\nevidence, of having transplanted the worst vices of polytheistic Greece\ninto the very sanctuaries of religion; and so, of infecting the nations\nof modern Europe with crimes which, had they not been kept alive in\nmonasteries, Christianity would long ago have banished from the earth.\n\nHow little did the pious men, who, in the third century, extolled the\nmerit of mortification, and petty torture, and celibacy, think of the\nhideous corruptions in which these practices were to terminate! A\nsagacity more than human was needed to foresee the end from the\nbeginning. But, with the experience of past ages before us, we may well\nlearn to distrust every specious attempt to exaggerate morality, or to\nattach ideas of blame to things innocent or indifferent. This over-doing\nof virtue never fails to divert the mind from what is substantially\ngood, and is moreover the almost invariable symptom of a transmuted or\nfictitious pietism.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nII. The ancient monkery was a system of the most deliberate selfishness.\nThat solicitude for the preservation of individual interests which forms\nthe basis of the human constitution, is so broken up and counteracted by\nthe claims and pleasures of domestic life, that, though the principle\nremains, its manifestations are suppressed, and its predominance\neffectually prevented, except in some few tempers peculiarly unsocial.\nBut the anchoret is a selfist by his very profession; and, like the\nsensualist, though his taste is of another kind, he pursues his personal\ngratifications, reckless of the welfare of others. His own advantage or\ndelight, or, to use his favorite phrase\u2014\"the good of his soul,\" is the\nsovereign object of his cares. His meditations, even if they embrace the\ncompass of heaven, come round, ever and again, to find their ultimate\nissue in his own bosom; but can that be true wisdom which just ends at\nthe point whence it started? True wisdom is a progressive principle. In\nabjuring the use of the active faculties, in reducing himself, by the\nspell of vows, to a condition of physical and moral annihilation, the\ninsulated being says to his fellows, concerning whatever might otherwise\nhave been converted to their benefit\u2014\"It is corban;\" thus making void\nthe law of love to our neighbor, by a pretended intensity of love to God.\n\nThat so monstrous an immorality should have dared to call itself by the\nname of sanctity, and should have done so too in front of Christianity,\nis indeed amazing; and could never have happened if Christianity had not\nfirst been shorn of its life-giving warmth, as the sun is deprived of\nits power of heat when we ascend into the rarity of upper space. The\ntendency of a taste for imaginative indulgences to petrify the heart has\nbeen already adverted to; and it receives a signal illustration in the\nmonkish life; especially in its more perfect form of absolute separation\nfrom the society of man. The anchoret was a disjoined particle, frozen\ndeep into the mass of his own selfishness, and there imbedded below the\ntouch of every human sympathy. This sort of meditative insulation is the\nultimate and natural issue of enthusiastic piety; and it may be met with\neven in our own times among those who have no inclination to run away\nfrom the comforts of common life.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIII. Spiritual pride, the most repulsive of the religious vices, was\nboth a main cause, and a principal effect of the ancient monachism.\n\nThe particular manner in which this odious pride sprung up in the\nmonastery deserves attention. That sort of plain and practical religion\nwhich adapts itself to the circumstances of common life\u2014the religion\ntaught by the apostles, a religion of love, sobriety, temperance,\njustice, fit for the use of master and servant, of husband and wife, of\nparent and child, by no means satisfied the wishes of those who sought\nin Christianity a delicious dream of unearthly excitements. It was\ntherefore indispensable to imagine a new style of religion; and hence\narose the doctrine so warmly and incessantly advanced by the early\nfavorers of monkery, that our Lord and his apostles taught a two-fold\npiety, and recognized an upper and an under class in the church, and\nsanctioned the division of the Christian body into what might be termed\na plebeian, and a patrician order.\n\nThis doctrine appears more or less distinctly in every one of the\nfathers who at all favors the monastic life. It may seem to bear analogy\nto the principle of the Grecian philosophers who had their common maxims\nfor the vulgar, and their hidden instructions for the few. But the\nresemblance is more apparent than real: the distinction arose among the\nChristians from altogether another source. The church, that is to say\nthe collective body of true believers, is called in the New Testament\nthe spouse of Christ; but the monks perverted the figure by using it\ndistinctively, by calling individual Christians \"the brides of Christ,\"\nand by appropriating the honor to those who had taken the vow of\ncelibacy.\n\nThe most absurd and impious abuses of language presently followed from\nthis error, and such as it were even blasphemous to repeat. Yet some of\nthe greatest writers of the times are charmed with these irreligious\nconceits.\n\nIn accordance with this arrogant pretension, it was believed, that,\nwhile the Christian commonalty might be left to wallow in the affairs of\ncommon life\u2014in business, matrimony, and such-like impurities\u2014the \"elect\nof Christ\" stood on a platform, high lifted above the grossness of\nsecular engagements and earthly passions, and were, in their Lord's\nesteem, immensely more holy, and higher in rank, as candidates for the\nhonors of the future life, than the mass of the faithful. When this\nsupposition became generally adopted and assented to, out of the\nmonastery as well as within it, the first and natural consequence was a\ngreat depreciation of the standard of morals among the people. If there\nwere admitted to be two rates or degrees of virtue, there must be, of\ncourse, two laws or rules of life: whatever therefore in the Scriptures\nseemed to be strict, or pure, or elevated, was assigned to the upper\ncode; while the lower took to itself only what wore an aspect of laxity\nand indulgence. Even an attempt on the part of secular Christians to\nmake advances in holiness might be condemned as a species of\npresumption, or as an invasion of the proprieties of the saintly order.\nHeavenly-mindedness and purity of heart were chartered to the\nregulars\u2014the monopolists of perfect grace. Alas, that the privileged\nshould have availed themselves so moderately of their rights!\n\nA second, and not less natural consequence of the same principle, was\nthe formation, among the monks, either of an insufferable arrogance and\nself-complacency, or of a villanous hypocrisy\u2014an hypocrisy which\nqualified those who sustained it to become the agents of every\ndetestable knavery that might promote the ambitious machinations, or\nscreen the debaucheries of the order.\n\nIf a reputation for superior sanctity be ever safe and serviceable to a\nChristian, it must be when his conduct and temper, even to the inmost\nprivacies of domestic life, are open to indifferent observers;\u2014not to\nthe cringing servitors of a religious establishment, or to the holy\nman's hangers-on and accomplices, but to the children and the servants\nof a family;\u2014the moral vision of a child is especially quick and clear.\nHe who thus lives under the eye of witnesses not to be deceived, and not\nto be bribed, may actually demean himself the better for being reputed\neminently good. Not so the man who inhabits a den or a cell, who is seen\nby the world only through a loop-hole; or who shows himself to an\nadmiring crowd when, and where, and in what posture he pleases. To such\na one, the praise of sanctity will most often be found inscribed, on its\nother side, with a license to crime. Under circumstances so blasting to\nthe simple honesty and unaffected humility of true piety, almost the\nbest that charity can imagine is, that the hooded saint deludes himself,\nmore even than he deceives others.\n\nSuch are the natural and almost invariable consequences\u2014in monasteries,\nor out of them, of every ambitious attempt to render religion a\nsomething too elevated and too pure to be brought into contact with the\naffairs of common life. The mere endeavor generates a pretension that\ncan never be filled out by truth and reality; and the deficiency must be\nmade up by delusion and deception; the one begetting arrogance, the\nother knavery.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIV. Greediness of the supernatural formed an essential characteristic of\nthe ancient monachism.\n\nThe cares, and toils, and necessities, the refreshments and delights of\ncommon life, are the great teachers of common sense; nor can there be\nany effective school of sober reason where these are excluded. Whoever,\neither by elevation of rank, or by peculiarity of habits, lives far\nremoved from this kind of tuition, rarely makes much proficiency in that\nexcellent quality of the intellect. A man who has little or nothing to\ndo with other men on terms of open and free equality, needs the native\nsense of five, to behave himself only with a fair average of propriety.\nAbsolute solitude (and seclusion in its degree) necessitates a lapse\ninto some species of absurdity more or less nearly allied to insanity;\nand religious solitude naturally strays into the regions of vision and\nmiracle.[8]\n\nThe monastery was at once the place where the illusions of distempered\nbrains were the most likely to abound, and where the frauds which\nnaturally follow in the train of such illusions could the most\nconveniently be hatched and executed. Those dungeons of dimness, of\nsilence, of absolute obedience; those scenes of nocturnal ceremony;\nthose labyrinths of subterrene communication; those nurseries of craft\nand credulity, seemed as if constructed for the very purpose of\nfabricating miracles; and, in fact, if all the narratives of\nsupernatural occurrences that are found upon the pages of the ancient\nchurch-writers were numbered, incomparably the larger proportion would\nappear to have been connected immediately with the religious houses. The\nwonder which goes to swell the vaunted achievements of the sainted abbot\nor brother, was effected, we are assured\u2014in the cell, in the chapel or\nchurch, in the convent-garden, in the depths of the overhanging forest,\nor upon the solitude of the neighboring shore! Of all such miracles it\nis enough to say, that whether genuine or not, they can claim no respect\nfrom posterity, seeing that they stand not within the circle of credible\ntestimony. History\u2014lover of simplicity\u2014scorns to place them on her page\nin any other form than as evidences of the credulity, if not of the\ndishonesty of the times!\n\nMany laborious and voluminous discussions might have been saved, if the\nsimple and very reasonable rule had been adopted of waiving\ninvestigation into the credibility of any narrative of supernatural or\npretended supernatural events, said to have taken place upon consecrated\nground, or under sacred roofs. Fanes, caves, groves, churches, convents,\ncells, are places in which the lover of history will make but a\ntransient stay: and he may easily find better employment than in sifting\nthe evidence on which rest such stories as that of the roof-descended\noil, used at the baptism of Clovis; or that of the relics discovered by\nAmbrose for the confutation of royal error, and a thousand others of\nlike nature. Those who, reading church history cursorily, are perplexed\nby the frequency of suspicious miracle, are probably not aware,\ngenerally, how very large a proportion of all such annoying relations\nmay be readily and reasonably disposed of by adhering to the rule above\nstated.\n\nThe miraculous powers existing in the church after the apostolic age,\nrest under a cloud that is not now to be thoroughly dispelled. But with\nsafety the following propositions may be affirmed: first, That the\nChristian doctrine probably received some miraculous attestations after\nthe death of the apostles; secondly, That so early as the commencement\nof the fourth century, fraudulent or deceptive pretensions to miraculous\npower were very frequently advanced; and lastly, That at that period,\nand subsequently, there are instances, not a few, of a certain sort of\nsincerity and fervor in religion, conjoined with very exceptionable\nattempts to acquire a thaumaturgal reputation. These deplorable cases\ndeserve particular attention, especially as they show what are the\nnatural fruits of fictitious pietism.\n\nIf we choose to read the church history of the early centuries in the\nspirit of frigid scepticism, all the toil and perplexity that belong to\nthe exercise of cautious and candid discrimination will be at once\nsaved; and we shall, in every instance, where supernatural interposition\nis alleged, and whatever may be the quality of the evidence, or the\ncharacter of the facts, take up that obvious explanation which is\noffered, by attributing a greedy credulity to the laity of those times,\nand a villanous and shameless knavery to the clergy. But this short\nmethod, how satisfactory soever it may be to indolence, or how\ngratifying soever to malignity, can never approve itself to those who\nare at once well informed of facts, and accustomed to analyze evidence\nwith precision. The compass of human nature includes many motives, deep,\nand intricate, of which infidelity never dreams, and which, in its\nunobservant arrogance, it can never comprehend.\n\nLong before the time when ecclesiastical narratives of supernatural\noccurrences assume a character decidedly suspicious, or manifestly\nfaithless, the great facts of Christianity had, with a large class of\npersons, and especially with the recluses, become the objects of\nday-dream contemplation, and formed rather the furniture of a theatre of\ncelestial machinery, than the exciting causes of simple faith, and hope,\nand joy. The divine glories, the brightness of the future life, the\nhistory and advocacy of the Mediator, the agency of angels, and of\ndemons, were little else, to many, than the incentives of intellectual\nintoxication. When once this misuse of religious ideas had gained\npossession of the mind, it brought with it an irresistible prurience,\nasking for the marvellous, just as voluptuousness asks for the aliments\nof pleasure. This demand will be peculiarly importunate among those who\nhave to uphold their faith in the front of a gainsaying world; and who\nwould much rather confound the scoffer by the blaze of a new miracle,\nthan convince him by an argumentative appeal to an old one.\n\nThe first step towards the pseudo-miraculous is taken without doing any\nviolence to conscience, and little even to good sense; provided that\nopinions of a favoring kind are generally prevalent. Good, and even\njudicious men, might be so under the influence of the imagination as to\nhave their sleep hurried with visions, and their waking meditations\nquickened by unearthly voices; and might complacently report such\ncelestial favors to greedy hearers, without a particle of dishonest\nconsciousness.[9] Thus the taste for things extraordinary was at once\ncherished and powerfully sanctioned by the example of men eminently wise\nand holy. Then, with an inferior class of men, the progression from\nillusions, real and complete, to such as were in part aided by a little\nspontaneity and contrivance, and which, though somewhat unsatisfactory\nto the narrator, were devoured without scruple by the hearer, could not\nbe difficult. The temptation to produce a commodity so much in demand\nwas strong; often too strong for those whose moral sense had been\ndebilitated by an habitual inebriety of the imagination. Another step\ntowards religious fraud was more easily taken than avoided, when it was\neagerly looked for by open-mouthed credulity, and when the church might\ncheaply and securely be glorified, and Gentilism triumphantly confuted.\nThe plain ground of Christian integrity having once been abandoned, the\nshocks of a downward progress towards the most reprehensible extreme of\ndeception were not likely to awaken remorse.\n\nPractices, therefore, which, viewed in their naked merits, must excite\nthe detestation of every Christian mind, might insensibly gain ground\namong those who were far from deserving the designation of thorough\nknaves. They were fervent and laborious in their zeal to propagate\nChristianity; they believed it cordially, and themselves hoped for\neternal life in their faith; and in the strength of this hope were ready\n\"to give their bodies to be burned.\" They prayed, they watched, they\nfasted, and crucified the flesh, and did everything which an\nenthusiastical intensity of feeling could prompt; and this feeling\nprompted them to promote the gospel, as well by juggling as by preaching.\n\nBut had not these religious forgers read the unbending morality of the\ngospel? Or, reading it, was it possible that they could think the\nsacrifice of honesty an acceptable offering to the God of truth? The\ndifficulty can be solved only by calculating duly the influence of\nimaginative pietism in paralyzing the conscience; and if the facts of\nthe case still seem hard to comprehend, it will be necessary, for\nillustration, to recur to instances that may be furnished, alas! by most\nChristian communities in our own times. Is it impossible to find\nindividuals fervent, and in a certain sense sincere, in their devotions,\nand zealous and liberal in their endeavors to diffuse Christianity, and,\nperhaps, in many respects amiable, who, nevertheless, admit into their\nhabitual course of conduct very gross contrarieties to the plainest\nrules of Christian morality? When instances of this sort are under\ndiscussion, it is alike unsatisfactory to affirm of the parties in\nquestion, that they are, in the common sense of the term, hypocrites; or\nto grant that their piety is genuine, but defective. The first\nsupposition, though it may cut the difficulty, does not by any means\nnicely accord with the facts: and the second puts contempt upon the most\nexplicit and solemn declarations of our Lord and his ministers, whose\nstyle of enforcing the divine law will never allow those who are\nflagrantly vicious, those who are \"workers of iniquity,\" to be called\n'imperfect Christians.'\n\nOne alternative presents itself for the solution of the pressing\ndifficulty. The religion of these delinquent professors is sincere in\nits kind, and perhaps fervent; but not less fictitious than sincere. Or\nrather the religion they profess is not Christianity, but an image of\nit. Whatever there is in the Gospel that may stimulate emotion without\nbreaking up the conscience, has been admitted and felt; but the heart\nhas not been made \"alive towards God.\" Repentance has had no force, the\ndesire of pardon no intensity. Certain vices may be shunned and\nreprobated, and others as freely indulged; for nothing is really\ninconsistent with the dreams of religious delusion\u2014except only the\nwaking energy of true virtue. And thus it was with many in the ancient\nchurch; the stupendous objects of the unseen world had kindled the\nimagination; and in harmony with this state of mind, a supernatural\nheroism and an unnatural style of virtue were admired and practised,\nbecause they fed the flames of a fictitious happiness, which compensated\nfor the renunciation of the pleasures of sense. In this spirit martyrdom\nwas courted, and deserts were peopled, until they ceased to be\nsolitudes; and in this spirit also miracles were affirmed, or\nfabricated, not perhaps so often by knaves as by visionaries.\n\nTho subject of the suspicious pretensions to miraculous power advanced\nby many of the ancient Christian writers should not be dismissed without\nremarking, that it is one thing to compose a gaudy narrative (de\nvirtutibus) of the wonder-working powers of a saint gone to his rest in\nthe preceding century, and another to be the actor in scenes of\nreligious juggling. If this distinction be duly considered, a very large\nmass of perplexing matter will at once be discharged from the page of\necclesiastical history, and that without doing the smallest violence\neither to charity, or to the laws of evidence. Some foolish presbyter,\nor busy monk, gifted with a talent of description, has collected the\nchurch tales current in his time, concerning a renowned father. The\nturgid biography, applauded in the monastery where it was produced,\nslipped away silently to the faithful of distant establishments, and\nwithout having ever undergone that ordeal of real and local publicity\nwhich authenticates common history, was suffused through Christendom, as\nit were, beneath the surface of notoriety, and so has come down to\nmodern times to load the memory of some good man with unmerited disgrace.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nV. The practice of mystifying the Scriptures must be named as an\nespecial characteristic of monkish religion.\n\nThis practice was, in the first place, the natural fruit of a life like\nthat of the recluses; for the Bible is a directory of common life; it is\nthe heavenly enchiridion of those who are beset with the cares, labors,\nsorrows, and temptations of the world. To the anchoret it presents\nalmost a blank page: a style of existence so unnatural as that which he\nhas chosen, it does not recognize; his imaginary troubles, his frivolous\nduties, his visionary temptations, his self-inflicted sufferings, and\nhis real difficulty of maintaining virtue under the galling friction of\na presumptuous vow, are all absolutely unknown to the Scriptures, which\ntherefore to the recluse, are _not_ profitable for reproof, or\ncorrection, or for instruction in the false righteousness which he\nlabors to establish.\n\nTo adapt the Bible to the cell, it must of necessity, be allegorized.\nThen indeed it becomes inexhaustibly rich in the materials of spiritual\namusement. It was thus that the Jewish doctors, the authors of the\nTalmudical writings, found the means of diverting the heaviness of their\nleisure; and it was thus, though in a different style, that the Essenes\nof the wilderness of the Jordan whiled away the hours of their solitude;\nand thus, yet again after another pattern, that the Christian monks,\nespecially those of Palestine[10] and Egypt, transmuted the words of\ntruth and soberness into a tangled wreath of flimsy fable.\n\nThe doctrine of a mystical sense has invariably been espoused by every\nsuccessive body of idle religionists; that is to say, by all who,\nspurning or forgetting the authority which the Scriptures assert over\nthe life and conscience, convert them into the materials of a delicious\ndream. The mask of allegory imposed on the Bible, serves first as a\nsource of entertainment, and then as a shelter against the plain meaning\nof all passages directly condemning the will-worship, the fooleries, and\nthe extravagances to which persons of this temper are ever addicted. So\ndid the rabbis make void the law of God; so did the monks; so have all\nclasses of modern mystics; so do modern Antinomians: all have asserted a\ndouble, a treble, or a quadruple sense; a mystery couched beneath every\nnarrative, and every exhortation, or even hidden in single words: or\nthey have descried a profound doctrine packed in the bend of a _Samech_\nor a _Koph_. Not one of the absurdities of the ancient monkery has been\nso long-lived as this: nor is there to be found a more certain symptom\nof the existence of fatal illusion in matters of religion.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nVI. The monkish system recommended itself by astonishing feats of\ndevotedness, and by great proficiency in the practices of artificial and\nspontaneous virtue.\n\nThe excitements of enthusiasm are so much more congruous with the\nuncorrected impulses of human nature, than are the principles of genuine\npiety, that the former have usually far surpassed the latter, as\nmotives, in the difficult and mortifying achievements of self-denial. In\nproportion as a system of fanaticism is remote from truth, its\nstimulating force is found to be great. Thus the fakirs of India have\ncarried the feats of voluntary torture far beyond any other order of\nreligionists. Mohammedans, generally, are more zealous, devout, and\nfervent than Christians. Romanists surpass Protestants in the solemnity,\nintensity, and scrupulosity of their devotional exercises. In conformity\nwith this well-known principle, the monastic orders have had to boast,\nin all ages, of some prodigious instances of mortification, as well as\nof charitable heroism. And the boast might be allowed to win more praise\nthan can be granted to it, if there were not manifest, invariably, in\nthese exploits, a ferment of sinister feelings, quite incompatible with\nthe simplicity and purity of Christian virtue.\n\nFor example, let a comparison be drawn between a daughter who, in the\ndeep seclusion of private life, and without a spectator to applaud her\nvirtue, cheerfully devotes her prime of years to the service of an\nafflicted parent;\u2014and the nun, who inveigles beggars daily to the\nconvent, where she absolves them, against their will, from their filth,\ndresses their ulcers, and cleanses their tatters. Assuredly the part she\nperforms is more seemingly difficult, and far more revolting than that\nof the pious daughter; yet it is in fact more easy; for the inflated\n\"sister of charity\"[11] is sustained and impelled by notions of heroism,\nand of celestial excellence, and by a present recompense of fame among\nher sisterhood, of all which the other does not dream, who, unless she\nwere actuated by the substantial motives of true goodness, could never\nin this manner win the blessing of heaven.\n\nSelf-inflicted penances, wasteful abstinences, fruitless labors,\nsanctimonious humiliations, and all such like spontaneities, may fairly\nbe classed with those painful and perilous sports, in pursuing which it\noften happens that a greater amount of suffering is endured, and of\ndanger incurred, than ordinarily belongs to the services and duties of\nreal life. But these freaks of the monastery, or these toils of the\nfield, deserve little praise, seeing that they meet their immediate\nreward in the gratification of a peculiar taste. In both instances the\nadult child pleases himself in his own way, and must be deemed to do\nmuch if he avoids trampling down the rights of his neighbor.\n\nFictitious virtue, if formed on the model of the Koran, naturally\nassumes the style of martial arrogance, of fanatical zeal and of bluff\ndevotion. But if it be the Gospels that furnish the pattern, then an\nopposite phase of sanctity is shown. Abject lowliness, and voluntary\npoverty (which is no poverty at all,) and ingenious austerities, and\nromantic exploits of charity, and other similar misinterpretations of\nthe spirit and letter of New Testament morality, are combined to form a\ntawdry effigy of the humility, purity, and beneficence of Christian\nholiness. But compel the imitator to relinquish all that is heroic, and\npicturesque, and poetical in his style of behavior: oblige him to lay\naside whatever makes the vulgar gape at his sanctity; let him uncowl his\nears, and cover his naked feet: ask him to acquit himself patiently,\nfaithfully, Christianly, amid the non-illustrious and difficult duties\nof common life, and he will find himself destitute of motive and of zest\nfor his daily task. Temperance without abstinence will have no charm for\nhim; nor purity without a vow; nor self-denial without austerity; nor\npatience without stoicism; nor charity without a trumpet. The man of\nsackcloth, who was a prodigy of holiness in the cloister, becomes, if\ntransported into the sphere of domestic life, a monster of selfishness\nand sensuality.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nTime, which insensibly aggravates the abuses of every corrupt system,\ndoes also furnish an apology, more and more valid from age to age, for\nthe conduct of the individuals who spring up, in succession, to act\ntheir parts within its machinery. While ancient institutions rest\ntranquilly on their bases, while venerable usages obtain unquestioned\nsubmission, while opinion paces forwards with a slumbering step upon its\ndeep-worn tracks, men are not more conscious of the enormity of the\nerrors that may be chargeable upon their creeds and practices, than a\nsecluded tribe is of the strangeness and inelegance of the national\ncostume. This principle should never be lost sight of when we are\nestimating the personal character of the members of the Romish church\nbefore the period of the Reformation; or indeed in later times, where no\nfree and fair conflict of opinions has taken place. The system and its\nvictims are always to be thought of apart.\n\nThe recurrence, by a people at large, to abstract principles of\npolitical or religious truth, is a much less frequent event than the\nrarest of natural phenomena. It is only in consequence of shocks,\nhappening in the social system by no means so often as earthquakes do in\nthe material, that the human mind is rent from its habitudes, and placed\nin a position whence it may with advantage compare its opinions with\nuniversal truth. The Christian church underwent not once the perils and\nbenefits of such a convulsion during the long course of fifteen hundred\nyears. Throughout that protracted space of time the men of each age,\nwith few exceptions, quietly deemed that to be good which their fathers\nhad thought so; and as naturally they delivered it to their successors,\nendorsed with their own solemn approbation. In forming an opinion,\ntherefore, of the merits of individuals, justice, we need not say\ncandor, demands that the whole, or almost the whole amount of the\nabstract error of the system within which, by accident of birth, they\nmove, should be deducted from the reckoning. This sort of justice may\nespecially be claimed in behalf of those who rather acquiesced in the\nreligious modes of their times, than appeared as its active champions.\nThus we excuse the originators and early supporters of a bad system, on\nthe ground of their ignorance of its evil tendency and actual\nconsequences; and again we palliate the fault of its adherents in a late\nage, by pleading for them the influence of that natural sentiment of\nrespect which is paid to antiquity.\n\nPerhaps the treatment which Jovinian and Vigilantius received from\nJerom, Ambrose, and Augustine, may be thought to detract very much from\nthe validity of the apology here offered for the ancient abettors of\nmonachism. But the circumstances of the case are involved in too much\nobscurity to allow a distinct opinion to be formed on the subject. The\nprotest of Jovinian against the prevailing errors of the church might be\nconnected with some extravagance of belief, or some impropriety of\nconduct which prevented his testimony from being listened to with\nrespect. Yet certainly the appearances of the case show decidedly\nagainst both Jerom and Ambrose. Augustine knew little personally of the\nsupposed error against which he inveighed.\n\nThese proper allowances being made, there will be no difficulty in\nturning from an indignant reprobation of the monkish practices, to a\ncharitable and consoling belief of the personal virtues, and even\neminent piety of many who, in every age, have fretted away an unblessed\nexistence within that dungeon of religious delusion\u2014the monastery. In\ndefault of complete evidence, yet on the ground of some substantial\nproof, it is allowable to hope that the monastic orders at all times\nincluded many spiritual members.[12] There is even reason to believe\nthat a better style of sentiment, and less extravagance, and less\nfanatical heat, and less knavish pretension, and more of humility and\npurity, existed here and there among the recluses of the tenth and\neleventh, than among those of the fifth and sixth centuries.\n\nIn the earlier period, though there might be much pretension to\nseclusion from the world, the monastery was in fact a house set on a\nhill in the midst of the Christian community; and it was ever surrounded\nby an admiring multitude; so that its inmates might always find a ready\nrevenue of glorification for the exploits and hypocrisies of\nsupernatural sanctity.[13] But in the later periods, and when nothing\nhardly existed without doors except feudal ignorance and ferocity (we\nspeak of the monasteries of Europe), many of the religious houses were\nreal seclusions, and very far removed from any market of vulgar praise.\nThen within these establishments, it cannot be doubted, that the pious\nfew found their virtue much rather guarded by the envious eyes of their\nless exemplary comrades, than endangered by drawing upon itself any sort\nof admiration. The spiritual monk (let not modern prejudices refuse to\nadmit the phrase), glad to hide himself from the railleries or spite of\nthe lax fraternity, kept close to his cell, and there passed his hours,\nnot uncheered, nor undelicious, in prayer and meditation, in the perusal\nof religious books, and in the pleasant, edifying, and beneficial toils\nof transcription. Not seldom, as is proved by abundant evidence, the\nlife-giving words of prophets and apostles were the subjects of these\nlabors; nor ought it to be doubted that while, through a long tract of\ncenturies, the Scriptures, unknown abroad, were holding their course\nunderground, if one might so speak, waiting the time of their glorious\nemerging, they imparted the substance of true knowledge to many souls,\npent with them in the same sepulchral glooms.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe monkish system retained its ancient style, with little alteration,\nuntil it received an enhancement, and a somewhat new character in\nFrance, in the hands of the followers of Jansen, and the Port Royal\nrecluses. Then the old doctrine of religious abstraction\u2014of the merging\nof the soul in Deity, and of the merit and efficacy of penitential\nsuicide, was revived with an intensity never before known and was\nrecommended by a much larger admixture of genuine scriptural knowledge\nthan had ever before been connected with the same system, and was graced\nby the brilliant talents and great learning of many of the party; while\nat the same time the endurance of persecution gave depth, force, and\nheroism, to the sentiments of the sect.\n\nIt was inevitable that whatever of good might arise within the church of\nRome, and remain in allegiance to it, must pass over to the ancient and\nvenerated form of monkish piety. The religion of the monastery was the\nonly sort of devotedness and seriousness known to, or sanctioned by,\nthat church. A new sect of fervent religionists could therefore do no\notherwise than either fall into that style, or denounce it; and the\nlatter would have been to break from Rome, and to side with Huguenots.\n\nEmbarrassed at every step by their professed submission to the authority\nof the popes, which they perpetually felt to be at variance with the\nduty they owed to God, and heavily oppressed and galled by their\nnecessary acquiescence in the flagrant errors of the church in which\nalone they thought salvation could be had, and still more deeply injured\nby their own zealously loved ascetic doctrine, these good men obtained\npossession, and made profession of, the great truths of Christianity\nunder an incomparably heavier weight of disadvantage than has been\nsustained by any other class of Christians from the apostolic to the\npresent times. They have left in their voluminous and valuable writings,\na body of divinity, doctrinal and practical, which, when the peculiar\ncircumstances of its production are considered, presents a matchless\nproof of the intrinsic power of Christianity, upbearing so ponderous a\nmass of error.\n\nNevertheless, while the Port Royal divines and their friends are perused\nwith pleasure and advantage, and while the reader is often inclined to\nadmit that in depth, fervor, and solemnity of religious feeling, in\nrichness and elevation of thought, in holy abstraction from earthly\ninterests, in devotedness of zeal, and in the exemplification of some\ndifficult duties, they much surpass the divines of England, he still\nfeels, and sometimes when he can hardly assign the grounds of his\ndissatisfaction, that a vein of illusiveness runs through every page.\nAlthough the great principles of religion are much more distinctly and\nmore feelingly produced than generally they are in the writings of the\nfathers, and though the evidence of genuine and exalted piety is\nabundant and unquestionable; yet is there an infection of _idealism_,\ntainting every sentiment; a mist of the imagination, obscuring every\ndoctrine. In turning from the French writers of this school to our own\nstandard divines, the reader is conscious of a sensation that might be\ncompared to that felt by one who escapes into pure air from a chamber in\nwhich, though it was possible to live, respiration was oppressed by the\npresence of mephitic exhalations.\n\nEnfeebled by the enthusiasm to which they so fondly clung, the piety of\nthese admirable men failed in the force necessary to carry them\ntriumphantly through the conflict with their atrocious enemy\u2014\"the\nSociety.\" They were themselves in too many points vulnerable, to close\nfearlessly with their adversary; and they grasped the sword of the\nSpirit in too infirm a manner to be able to drive home a deadly thrust.\nHad it been otherwise, had they been free, not merely from the shackle\nof submission to Rome, but free from the debilitating influence of\nmysticism and monkish notions, their moral force, their talent, their\nlearning, and their self-devotion, might have sufficed, first, for the\noverthrow of their immediate antagonist, whose bad cause, and worse\narguments were hardly supported against the augmenting weight of public\nopinion, even by the whole power of the court. Then might they, not\nimprobably, have supplied the impulse necessary to achieve the\nemancipation of the Gallican church from the thraldom of Rome; an event\nwhich seemed, more than once, to be on the eve of accomplishment. And\nif, at the same moment, the Protestants of France had received just that\ndegree of indulgence\u2014of mere sufferance\u2014which was demanded, we do not\nsay by justice and mercy, but by a politic regard to the national\nwelfare; and if by these means a substantially sound, though perhaps\npartial reform had taken place within the dominant church, and dissent\nbeen allowed to spread itself amicably through the interstices of the\necclesiastical structure; if religious liberty, not indeed in the temper\nof republican contumacy, but in the Christian spirit of quiet and\ngrateful humility, had taken root in France, is it too much to say that\nAtheism could never have become, as it did, the national opinion, and\nthat the consequent solution of the social system in blood could never\nhave happened?\n\nThe Jansenist, and the inmates of Port Royal, and many of their\nfavorers, displayed a constancy that would doubtless have carried them\nthrough the fires of martyrdom. But the intellectual courage necessary\nto bear them fearlessly through an examination of the errors of the\npapal superstition could have sprung only from a healthy force of mind,\nutterly incompatible with the dotings of religious abstraction, with the\npetty solicitudes of sackclothed abstinence, with the trivial\nceremonials of the daily ritual, with the prim niceties of behavior that\npin down the body and soul of a Romish regular to his parchment-pattern\nof artificial sanctity. The Jansenists had not such courage; if they\nworshipped not the beast, they cringed before him; he planted his\ndragon-foot upon their necks, and their wisdom and their virtues were\nlost forever to France!\n\nThe monk of Wittemberg had taken a bolder and a better course. When he\nbegan to find fault with Rome, he rejected, not only its own flagrant\nand recent corruptions: but the many delusions it had inherited from the\nancient Church; and after a short struggle with the prejudices of his\neducation, he became, not only no papist, but no monk. Full fraught with\nthe principles and spirit of the Bible, he denounced, as well the\nvenerable errors of the fathers, as the scarlet sins of the mother of\nimpurities; and was as little a disciple of Jerom, of Gregory, and of\nBasil, as of the doctors of the Vatican.\n\nThe English reformers trod the ground of theological inquiry with the\nsame manly step; and that firm step shook the monasteries to the dust.\nThose great and good men went back to the Scriptures, where they found\nat once the great realities of religion\u2014a condemning law, a justifying\nGospel, and a provision of grace for a life of true holiness. With these\nsubstantial principles in their hearts, they spurned whatever was\ntrivial and spurious, and amid the fires of persecution, they reared the\nstructure\u2014a structure still unshaken\u2014of religion for England, upon \"the\nfoundation of the apostles and prophets.\" Had there existed a taste for\nmysticism, a fondness for penitential austerities, a cringing deference\nto the fathers, among the divines of the time of Edward VI., such a\ndisposition must, so far as known causes are to be calculated upon, have\nutterly spoiled the reformation in England; or have postponed it a\nhundred years.\n\n[6] In the only places in the New Testament where celibacy is\nrecommended, Matt. xix. 12, and 1 Cor. vii. 32, the reason is of this\nsubstantial and intelligible kind, namely, that in the case of\nindividuals, placed in peculiar circumstances, a single life would be\nadvantageous, inasmuch as it would give them better opportunity of\nserving the Lord without distraction. Precisely the same advice might\nsometimes with propriety be given to a soldier, or to a statesman: a\nhigh motive justifies a sacrifice of personal happiness. Nowhere in the\ndiscourses of our Lord, or in the writings of the apostles, is there to\nbe discovered a trace of the monkish motives of celibacy\u2014namely, the\nsupposed superior sanctity of that state.\n\n[7] \"Grande est et immortale, p\u0153ne ultra naturam corpoream, superare\nluxuriam, et concupiscenti\u00e6 spasmeam adolescenti\u00e6 facibus accensam animi\nvirtute restinguere, et spiritali conatu vim genuin\u00e6 oblectationis\nexcludere, _viver\u00e9que contra humani generis legem_, despicere solatia\nconjugii, dulcedinem contemnere liberorum, qu\u00e6cumque esse pr\u00e6sentis vit\u00e6\ncommoda possint, pro nihilo spe futurorum beatitudinis computare.\" The\nEpistle of Sulpitius _de Virginitate_, in which this passage occurs,\ncontains, it should be confessed, much more good sense and good\nmorality, in the latter part of it, than one would expect to find in\nconjunction with absurdities such as that above quoted. The annotator on\nthe passage well says, that the Ascetics avoided the pleasures of\ndomestic life, not because they were sweets, but because conjoined with\ngreat cares, which those escaped who lived in celibacy. Nor is it to be\ndenied, says he, that married life is obnoxious to great and heavy\ninconveniences: nevertheless, if under those difficulties we live holily\nand religiously, our future recompense will surely not be less than as\nif, to be free from them we had embraced a single life.\n\n[8] \"Habitant plerique in eremo sine ullis tabernaculis quos Anachoretas\nvocant. Vivunt herbarum radicibus: nullo unquam certo loco consistunt,\nne ab hominibus frequententur: quas nox co\u00ebgerit sedes habent.... Inter\nhujus (Sina) recessus Anachoreta esse aliquis ferebatur quem diu\nmultumque qu\u00e6situm videre non potui, qui fer\u00e8 jam ante quinquaginta\nannos \u00e0 conversatione human\u00e2 remotus, nullo vestis usu, setis corporis\nsui tectus, nuditatem suam divino munere vestiebat. Hic quoties eum\nreligiosi viri adire voluerunt, cursu avia petens, congressus vitabat\nhumanos. Uni tantummodo ferebatur se ante quinquennium pr\u00e6buisse,\nqui credo potenti fide id obtinere promeruit: cui inter multa\nconloquia percunctanti, cur homines tantopere vitaret, respondisse\nperhibetur, Eum qui ab hominibus frequentaretur non posse ab angelis\nfrequentari.\"\u2014_Sulp. Sev. Dialog._ I.\n\n[9] The two signal instances may be mentioned of Cyprian and Augustine,\nmen whose honesty and sincerity will not be questioned by any one who\nhimself possesses the sympathies of virtue and integrity. They were both\ncarried by the spirit of their times almost to the last stage of\ncredulity and self-delusion; but the latter much farther than the former.\n\n[10] Origen, as every one knows, led the way in the Christian Church in\nthis mode of interpretation. It is also well known that the monks,\nespecially those of Alexandria, warmly espoused the cause of this\ningenious writer against the bishops and clergy, who with equal warmth\ncondemned his works as heretical.\n\n[11] The charitable offices of the nuns in the hospitals of France ought\nalways to be mentioned with respect and admiration.\n\n[12] The \"De Imitatione Christi\" alone affords proof enough of the\npossibility of the existence of elevated piety in the monastery. It\nabounds also with indications of the petty persecution to which a\nspiritual monk was exposed among his brethren.\n\n[13] Many of the ancient _solitaries_, far from living as their\nprofession required, in seclusion, were accustomed to admit daily the\nvisits of the multitude who flocked around them, to gaze at their\nausterities, to hear their harangues, or to be exorcised, or healed of\ntheir maladies. Symeon, \"the man of the pillar,\" every day exhibited\nhimself to a gaping crowd, collected often from distant countries.\nSt. Anthony, more sincere in his love of retirement, when pestered by\nthe plaudits of the vulgar in Lower Egypt, withdrew into a desert of the\nTheba\u00efs; yet even there he soon found himself surrounded, not only by\nd\u00e6mons, but worse, by admirers. See Athan. Op. Vita S. Antonii.\n\n\n\n\nSECTION X.\n\nCONSIDERATIONS ON THE PROBABLE TRIUMPH OF CHRISTIANITY, SUBMITTED TO\nTHOSE WHO MISUSE THE TERM ENTHUSIASM.\n\n\nTo waive the exercise of discrimination, can, under no imaginable\ncircumstances, be advantageous to any man; nor is it ever otherwise than\nabsurd to persist in an error which might be corrected by a moment's\nattention to obvious facts. But assuredly some such suspension of good\nsense has taken place with those who accustom themselves to designate,\nin a mass, as Enthusiasts, the many thousands of their countrymen, of\nall communions, who, at the present time, make profession of the\ndoctrines of the Reformation.\n\nAll who are not wilfully ignorant must know, that what is vulgarly\ncalled \"the religious world,\" now includes, not only myriads of the\nlower, and middle, and imperfectly educated classes, in relation to whom\nself-complacent arrogance may easily find pretexts of scorn; and not\nonly many of the opulent and the noble; but a fair proportion also of\nall the talent, and learning, and brilliancy of mind, that adorns the\nprofessional circles, and that vivifies the literature of the country.\nWhat appropriateness, then, is there left to language, if a phrase of\nsupercilious import is to be attached to the names of men of vigorous\nunderstanding, and energetic character, and eminent acquirement;\u2014of men\nsuccessful in their several courses, and accomplished in whatever gives\ngrace to human nature? When those who in no assignable good quality can\nbe deemed inferior to their competitors on the arena of life, are, on\naccount of their religious opinions and practices, called Enthusiasts,\nit is evident that nothing is actually effected but the annulling of the\ncontumelious power of the term so misused. We may indeed, in this\nmanner, neutralize the significance of a word; or we may draw upon\nourselves, the imputation of malignant prejudice; but we cannot reduce\nfrom their rank those who stand firmly on the high stages of literary or\nphilosophical eminence.\n\nBut if arrogance and malignity itself be ashamed of so flagrant an abuse\nof the word enthusiast, then neither ought that epithet (unless where\nspecial proof can be adduced) to be assigned to the multitude, holding\nthe very same opinions: for the eminent few, seeing that they profess\nthese tenets, and adhere to these practices deliberately, and\nexplicitly, must be allowed the privilege of redeeming their belief and\nusages from contempt, by whomsoever maintained.\n\nAn opinion gravely professed by a man of sense and education, demands\nalways, respectful consideration\u2014demands, and actually receives it from\nthose whose own sense and education give them a correlative right: and\nwhoever offends against this sort of courtesy may fairly be deemed to\nhave forfeited the privileges it secures. But retaliation is declined by\nthose who might use it, and it is declined on the ground, not only of\nChristian meekness, but of commiseration towards such violators of\ncandor and good manners, whom they hold to be acting under the influence\nof an infatuation, at once deplorable and fatal.\n\nThat this infatuation should, in any great number of instances, be\ndispelled by the mere showing of reasons, is what the religionists, the\n\"Enthusiasts,\" by no means expect: they too well understand the nature\nof the malady, and too well know its inveteracy, to imagine that it may\nbe dissipated by force of argument, even though the cause were in the\nhands of a college of dialecticians. Nevertheless, they entertain an\nexpectation (and have evidence to show in support of it) which, if it be\nrealized, will supersede many difficult controversies, and rob impiety\nforever of its only effectual prop, the suffrage of the many. This\nexpectation is nothing less than that Christianity\u2014or, for the sake of\ndistinctness, let it be said the religion of the Reformation\u2014the\nreligion of Wycliffe, and Latimer, and Cranmer, and Jewel, and Hooker,\nand Owen, and Howe, and Baxter\u2014will gain, ere long, an unquestioned\nascendency, and will bear down infidelity and false doctrine, and absorb\nschism, and possess itself of the substance of power, which is moral\npower, and will thus rule the family of man.\n\nIn support of a belief like this, many reasons might be urged, some of\nwhich can be expected to have weight only with the religious; while\nothers may well claim attention from all (whatever may be their opinion\nof Christianity) who are at once competent and accustomed to anticipate\nthe probable course of human affairs.\n\nThere are three distinct methods in which an inquiry of this sort might\nbe conducted: of these, the first is the method of philosophical\ncalculation, on the known principles of human nature, and which, without\neither denying or assuming the truth of Christianity, forecasts, from\npast events and present appearances, the probable futurity. To pursue\nsuch calculations efficiently, prepossessions of all kinds, both\nsceptical and religious, should be held in abeyance, while the mere\nfacts that belong to the problem are contemplated as from the remoteness\nof a neutral position.\n\nThe reader and writer of this page may each have formed his estimate of\nthe intrinsic force and validity of certain opinions; but this private\nestimate may happen to be much above, or much below the level which\nreason would approve; and, be it what it may, it can avail nothing for\nour present purpose. If we are to calculate the probable extension or\nextinction of those opinions, we must consult the evidence of facts on a\nlarge scale; and especially must observe what manifestations of\nintrinsic power they have given on certain peculiar and critical\noccasions. This is the only course that can be deemed satisfactory, or\nthat is conformed to the procedures of modern science. We do not now\nwish to ask a seraph if such or such a dogma is held to be true in\nheaven; but what we have to do is to learn, from the suffrage of the\nmillions of mankind, whether it has a permanent power to command and to\nregain ascendency over the human mind. This question must be asked of\nhistory; and we must take care to open the book at those pages where the\ngreat eras of religious revolution are described. Having glanced at the\npast, our next business will be to look at the present: this kind of\ndivination is the only one known to the principles of philosophical\ninquiry.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe early triumph of the Gospel over the fascinating idolatries and the\nastute atheism of Greece and Rome has been often insisted upon, (and\nconclusively) as evidence of its truth. But with that argument we have\nnothing now to do; yet if the subject were not a very hackneyed one, it\nmight well be brought forward, in all its details, in proof of a\ndifferent point\u2014namely, the innate power of the religion of the Bible to\nvanquish the hearts of men. An opponent may here choose his alternative;\neither let him grant that Christianity triumphed because it was true and\ndivine; or let him deny that it had any aid from heaven. In the former\ncase we shall be entitled to infer that the religion of God must at\nlength universally prevail; or in the latter we may strongly argue, that\nthis doctrine possesses little less than an omnipotence of intrinsic\nforce, by which it obtained success under circumstances of opposition\nsuch as made its triumph seem, even to its enemies, miraculous; and on\nthis ground the expectation of its future prevalence cannot be thought\nunreasonable.\n\nBut if there were room to imagine that the first spread of Christianity\nwas owing rather to an accidental conjuncture of favoring circumstances\nthan to its real power over the human mind, or if it might be thought\nthat any such peculiar virtue was all spent and exhausted in its first\nexpansive effort, then it is natural to look to the next occasion on\nwhich the opinions of mankind were put in fermentation, and to watch in\nwhat manner the system of the Bible then rode over the high billows of\npolitical, religious, and intellectual commotion. It was a fair trial\nfor Christianity, and a trial essentially different from its first,\nwhen, in the fifteenth century, after having been corrupted in every\npart to a state of loathsome ulceration, it had to contend for\nexistence, and to work its own renovation, at the moment of the most\nextraordinary expansion of the human intellect that has ever happened.\nAt that moment, when the splendid literature of the ancient world\nstarted from its tomb, and kindled a blaze of universal admiration; at\nthat moment, when the first beams of sound philosophy broke over the\nnations; and when the revival of the useful arts gave at once elasticity\nto the minds of the million, and a check of practical influence to the\nminds of the few; at the moment when the necromancy of the press came\ninto play to expose and explode necromancy of every other kind; and when\nthe discovery of new continents, and of a new path to the old, tended to\nsupplant a taste of whatever is visionary, by imparting a vivid taste\nfor what is substantial; at such a time, which seemed to leave no chance\nof continued existence to aught that was not in its nature vigorous,\nmight it not confidently have been said\u2014This must be the crisis of\nChristianity? if it be not inwardly sound, if it have not a true hold of\nhuman nature, if it be a thing of feebleness and dotage, fit only for\ncells, and cowls, and the precincts of spiritual despotism; if it be not\nadapted to the world of action, if it have no sympathy with the feelings\nof men\u2014of freemen; nothing can save it: no power of princes, no devices\nof priests, will avail to rear it anew, and to replace it in the\nveneration of the people; at least not in any country where has been\nfelt the refreshing gale of intellectual life. The result of this crisis\nneed not be narrated.\n\nIt may even be doubted, had not Christianity been fraught with power, if\nall the influence of kings, or craft of priests, could have upheld it in\nany part of Europe, after the revival of learning; and certainly not in\nthose countries which received, at one and the same time, the\ninvigoration of political liberty, of science, and of commerce.\n\nWhether the religion for which the reformers suffered, \"was from heaven\nor of men,\" is not our question; but whether it is not a religion of\nrobust constitution, framed to endure, and to spread, and to vanquish\nthe hearts of men? With the history of the fifteenth and sixteenth\ncenturies in view, it is asked if Christianity be a system that must\nalways lean upon ignorance, and craft, and despotism, and which, when\nthose rotten stays are removed, must fail and be seen no more?\n\nYet another species of trial was in store to give proof of the\nindestructibility and victorious power of Christianity. It remained to\nbe seen whether, when the agitations, political and moral, that were\nconsequent upon the great schism which had taken place in Europe had\nsubsided, and when the season of slumber and exhaustion came on, and\nwhen human reason, strengthened and refined by physical science, and\nelegant literature, should awake fully to the consciousness of its\npowers; whether then the religion of the Bible could retain its hold of\nthe nations; or at least of those of them that enjoyed, without limit,\nthe happy influences of political liberty, and intellectual light. This\nwas a sort of probation which Christianity had never before passed\nthrough.\n\nAnd what were the omens under which it entered upon the new trial of its\nstrength? Were the friends of Christianity at that moment of portentous\nconflict awake, and vigilant, and stout-hearted, and thoroughly armed to\nrepel assaults? The very reverse was the fact; for at the instant when\nthe atheistical conspiracy made its long-concerted, well-advised and\nconsentaneous attack, there was scarcely a pulse of life left in the\nChristian body, in any one of the Protestant states. The old\nsuperstitions had crawled back into many of their ancient corners. In\nother quarters the spirit of protestation against those superstitions\nhad breathed itself away in trivial wranglings, or had given place to\ninfidelity\u2014infidelity aggravated by stalled hypocrisy. The Church of\nEngland, the chief prop of modern Christianity, was then, to a great\nextent, torpid, and fainting under the incubus, either of false\ndoctrine, or of a secular spirit; at least it seemed incapable of the\neffort which the peril of the time demanded: few indeed of her sons were\npanoplied, and sound-hearted, as champions in such a cause should be.\nWithin a part only of a small body of Dissenters, (for a part was\nsmitten with the plague of heresy) and that part in great measure\ndisqualified from free and energetic action by rigidities, and scruples,\nand divisions, was contained almost all the religious life and fervor\nanywhere to be found in Christendom.\n\nMeanwhile the infidel machinators had chosen their ground at leisure,\nand were wrought to the highest pitch of energy by a confident, and, as\nit might seem, a well-founded hope of success. They were backed by the\nsecret wishes, or the undissembled cheerings of almost the entire body\nof educated men throughout Europe. They used the only language then\ncommon to the civilized world, and a language which might be imagined to\nhave been framed and finished designedly to accomplish the demolition of\nwhatever was grave and venerated; a language, beyond any other, of\nraillery, of insinuation, and of sophistry; a language of polished\nmissiles, whose temper could penetrate not only the cloak of imposture,\nbut the shield of truth.\n\nAt the same portentous moment the shocks and upheavings of political\ncommotion opened a thousand fissures in the ancient structure of moral\nand religious sentiment; and the enemies of Christianity, surprised by\nunexpected success, rushed forward to achieve, as they thought, an easy\ntriumph. The firmest and the wisest friends of old opinions desponded,\nand many believed that a few years would see Atheism the universal\ndoctrine of the western nations, as well as military despotism the only\nform of government.\n\nIt is difficult to imagine a single advantage that was lacking to the\npromoters of infidelity, or a single circumstance of peril and ill-omen\nthat was not present to deepen the gloom of the friends of religion. The\nactual issue of that signal crisis is before our eyes in the freshness\nof a recent event. Christianity\u2014we ask not whether for the benefit or\nthe injury of the world\u2014has triumphed; the mere fact is all that\nconcerns our argument. But shall it be said, or if said, believed, that\nthe late resurrection of the religion of the Bible has been managed in\nthe cabinets of monarchs? Have kings and emperors given this turn to\npublic opinion, which now compels infidelity to hide its shame behind\nthe very mask of hypocrisy that it had so lately torn from the face of\nthe priest? To come home to facts with which all must be familiar: Has\nthere not been heard, within the last few years, from the most\nenlightened, the most sober-minded, and the freest people of Europe, a\nfirm, articulate, spontaneous, and cordial expression of preference, and\nof enhanced veneration towards Christianity? Again, then, we ask\u2014not if\nthis religion be true, but if it have not, even beneath our own\nobservation, given proof of indestructible vigor?\n\nThe spread of the English stock, and language, and literature, over the\nNorth American continent, has afforded a distinct and very significant\nindication of the power of Christianity to retain its hold of the human\nmind, and of its aptness to run hand-in-hand with civilization, even\nwhen unaided by those secular succors to which its enemies in malice,\nand some of its friends in over-caution, are prone to attribute too much\nimportance. The tendency of republicanism, which obviously has some\nstrong affinity with infidelity, and the connection of the colonies, at\nthe moment of their revolt, with France, and the prevalence of a\npeculiarly eager and uncorrected commercial temper, and the absence of\nevery sort and semblance of restraint upon opinion, were concurrent\ncircumstances, belonging to the infancy of the American Union, of a kind\nwhich put to the severest test the instrinsic power of Christianity, in\nretaining its hold of the human mind. Could infidel experimenters have\nwished for conditions more equitable, under which to try the respective\nforces of the opposing systems?\n\nAnd what has been the issue? It is true that infidelity holds still its\nground in the United States, as in Europe; and there, as in Europe,\nkeeps company with whatever is debauched, sordid, oppressive, reckless,\nruffian-like. But at the same time Christianity, has gained rather than\nlost ground, and shows itself there in a style of as much fervor and\nzeal as in England; and perhaps, even it has the advantage in these\nrespects. Wherever, on that continent, good order and intelligence are\nspreading, there also the religion of the Bible spreads. And if it be\nprobable that the English race, and language, and institutions, will, in\na century, pervade its deserts, all appearances favor the belief that\nthe edifices of Christian worship will bless every landscape of the\npresent wilderness that shall then \"blossom as the rose.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nBefore, in pursuing this method of frigid calculation, the Christian\ndoctrine be weighed against the several systems with which it must\ncontend ere it wins its universal triumph, it is proper to inquire\u2014what\nis the probability that a collision will actually take place. To\nestimate fairly this probability, those who are but slenderly acquainted\nwith the religious world, in the British Islands, in America, and in the\nProtestant states of the continent, must understand, much better than\ngenerally they do, the precise nature of the remarkable revolution that\nhas, within the last thirty years, been effected in the sentiments of\nChristians on the subject of the diffusion of their religion. Such\nslenderly-informed persons may very naturally imagine that the\nprodigious efforts that have of late been made to diffuse Christianity\nthrough the world have sprung simply from a heat and excitement, in its\nnature transient, and which, therefore, must be expected soon to\nsubside. But this supposition will be found to be incomplete and\nerroneous. A stir and kindling of feeling has no doubt happened; but\nthis feeling, and the activities which followed from it, have given\noccasion to the resurrection, so to speak, of a capital article of\nChristian morals, which, after lying almost latent for centuries, stands\nforth in undisputed and prominent authority in the modern code of\nreligious duty. This recovered principle is now constantly recognized\nand enforced; and it is seen to exert its influence, not merely within\nthe circles of central movement, but even in the remotest orbits of\nreligious feeling, where warmth and energy are manifestly not excessive.\n\nThe founder of Christianity left with his disciples the unlimited\ninjunction to go forth into all the world, and to preach the Gospel to\nevery creature. This command, corroborated by others of equivalent\nimport, and enforced by the very nature of the Christian doctrine, and\nby the spirit of Christian charity, is now understood and acknowledged,\nin a manner new to the church, to be of universal obligation, so that no\nChristian, how obscure soever may be his station, or small his talents,\nor limited his means, can be held to stand altogether excused from the\nduty of fulfilling, in some way, the last mandate of his Lord. Thus\nunderstood, this command makes every believer a preacher and a\nmissionary; or at least obliges him to see to it, so far as his ability\nextends, that the labors of diffusive evangelization are actually\nperformed by a substitute.\n\nBefore the commencement of the recent missionary efforts, there had been\nmissions to the heathen. But these, if carried on with anything more\nthan a perfunctory assiduity, were anomalous to the general feeling of\nChristians, and sprung from the exemplary zeal of individuals. But the\nmodern missions are maintained neither by the zeal of the few, nor by\nthe mere zeal of the many; but rather by the deep-seated impulsive power\nof a grave conviction, pressing on the conscience even of the inert and\nthe selfish\u2014and much more on the hearts of the fervent and devoted\u2014that\na Christian has no more liberty to withhold his aid and service from\nthese evangelizing associations than he has to abandon the duties of\ncommon life; and that, for a man to profess hope in Christ, and to deny\nwhat he might spare to promote the diffusion of the Gospel, is the most\negregious of all practical solecisms.\n\nThose who are ignorant of this remarkable revolution of sentiment, or\nwho may be sceptical concerning it, would do well to take up, at hazard,\nany dozen of the discourses, and reports, and tracts, that are yearly,\nand monthly, and weekly, flowing from the religious press, and among\nwhich they will hardly find one that does not assume this as an admitted\nprinciple, and as the ultimate motive of every hortatory appeal. And if,\namong these ephemera, there are any, and such are not seldom to be\nfound, that bear the stamp of superior intelligence, it will be seen\nalmost invariably, that the reasoner summons all the force of his mind,\nnot so much to prove that every Christian is bound to promote the\ndiffusion of scriptural knowledge, as by some new ingenuity of\nillustration to place the acknowledged duty in a stronger light, or to\nshow in what manner it bears upon the specific object for which he\npleads. And it is to be noted that these popular addresses exhibit, for\nthe most part, much more of the gravity and calmness which naturally\nbelong to the style of those who feel that they are standing upon\nundisputed ground, than of the solicitude, or the inflammatory verbosity\nand turgidness of writers who are laboring to fan a decaying blaze of\nindefensible enthusiasm.\n\nOr again: it may well be inferred that the modern missionary zeal\nsprings from motives of a substantial and permanent kind, since they\naffect, without exception, every body of Christians (holding the\ndoctrines of the Reformation) and are felt in the same manner by the\nChristians of every Protestant community of Europe. And moreover the\nfeeling has not declined, but has sensibly increased since the first\nyears of its activity; and it has endured the trial, in some instances,\nof severe and long-continued discomfitures, or of partial success. These\nare indications of a spring of action far more sedate and enduring than\nany feverish excitement can ever supply.\n\nBut if the extent, and the power, and the promise of the existing\nmissionary zeal are to be duly estimated, the inquirer should visit the\nhomes of our religious folks; or enter the schools in which their\nchildren are trained, and there learn what is the doctrine inculcated\nupon those who are rising up to take their place on the arena of life:\nor let him listen to the hymns they lisp, and examine the tracts they\nread, and he will meet the same great principle in a thousand manners\nenforced, namely\u2014That it is the duty of every Christian, young or old,\nrich or poor, to take part in sending the Gospel to all nations. Or let\nthe observer notice the Missionary Box, in the school-room, in the\nnursery, in the shop-parlor, in the farm-house kitchen, in the cottage,\nof the religious; and let him mark the multiform contrivances for\nswelling the amount of the revenues of Christian charity, devised, and\nzealously persisted in, by youths and by little ones, whose parents, at\nthe same age, thought of nothing but of cakes and sports.\n\nAnd does all this steady movement, this wide-spreading and\nclosely-compacted system of united effort, this mechanism in which\ninfancy as well as maturity takes its part, indicate nothing for\nfuturity? Shall it all have passed away and be forgotten with the\npresent generation? If indeed it were confined to a sect, or to a\nprovince, or to a country, it might, though that were unlikely; but not\nif it be the common style of Christian feeling in every part of the\nworld where spiritual Christianity exists at all. Particular\nassociations may be dissolved, and particular schemes may be broken up;\nand standard-bearers in the sacred cause may faint; and the zeal of\ncertain communities may fade; or political disasters may here and there\nbring ruin upon pious labors; but unless devastation universal sweeps\nover the face of the civilized world, the doctrine of missionary zeal,\nwhich has been broad-cast over Christendom, in the present day, will not\nfail of coming to its harvest. And now, if there are any who wish ill to\nChristianity, let them hasten to prevent the measures of its friends,\nlet them teach their babes to hate the Gospel; for those who love it are\ntaking such means to insure its future triumph as can hardly fail of\nsuccess, and such as, on common grounds of calculation, make it likely\nthat even the sons and the daughters of the present race of infidels may\nbe involved in the approaching conquests of the Son of David; and that\nthey shall actually join in the loud hosanna, announcing his accession\nto the throne of universal empire.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIt is then more than barely probable\u2014it is almost certain\u2014that the\nattempt to offer Christianity to all nations, will not soon be\nabandoned. The next question is this\u2014whether, on grounds of frigid\ncalculation, such attempts are recommended by any fair promise of\nsuccess.\n\nWhen the term calculation is used in reference to the diffusion of\nChristianity, a use of the word which perhaps may offend the ear of\npiety, an important distinction must be kept in view between that\ncordial admission of the Gospel which renovates the hearts of men\nindividually, and that change of opinion and profession which may be\nbrought about among a people by means that fall short of possessing\nefficiency to produce repentance and faith. And while the former must\neverywhere, at home or abroad, be the great object aimed at and desired\nby the Christian ministry, the latter is both in itself, even if nothing\nmore were done, and as a preliminary, and a probable means conducing to\nthe production of genuine piety, a most desirable and happy revolution.\nIt is moreover a revolution which may be reckoned to lie within the\nrange of human agency, when judiciously and perseveringly applied. For\nChristianity is a species of knowledge, in its nature communicable; and,\nas a system of opinions, or as a code of morals, it possesses a manifest\nsuperiority, if fairly brought into comparison with any existing\nreligious system. And if it may reasonably be asked concerning any\npeople\u2014how shall they believe without a preacher? the converse question\nmight, with little less confidence be put\u2014how shall they not believe\nwith one?\n\nPagan and Mohammedan nations ought to be thought of by a Christian\npeople just as the master of a numerous household, if he be wise and\nbenevolent, thinks of the untutored members of his family; for although\nno actual subjection is owned on the one side, or can be exercised on\nthe other, there exists, virtually, the relationship and the\nresponsibilities of that domination which is ever possessed by\nknowledge, intelligence, and virtue, over ignorance and degradation.\nNow, as the master of a family may, to a greater or less extent,\ninfallibly succeed by zeal, affection, skill, and patience, in\ndispelling the superstitions and the ignorance which have happened to\ncome under his roof; so, with zeal, affection, skill, and patience,\nproportioned to the greatness of the work, may the Christian nations at\nlength effect a cleansing of the earth from the cruelties and impurities\nof polytheism.\n\nNothing inconsistent with the humblest and most devout dependence upon\nthe divine agency is implied in this supposition, any more than in the\nbelief that our children and servants may be trained in the knowledge of\nGod, and in the decencies of Christian worship. Is there not reason to\nthink that an inattention to this plain principle has prevented, in some\nmeasure, the adoption of those vigorous and extended operations which\ncommon sense prescribes as the proper and probable means of diffusing at\nonce civilization and religion through the world?\n\nThe probability of a change of religion on the part of an entire people\nmay, it is true, be argued on the adverse, as well as on the favorable\nside, and with great appearance of reason. The obstinacy of the human\nmind in adhering to the worse, even when the better is presented to its\nchoice, seems not seldom to possess the invincibility of a physical law;\nand it has been found as impracticable to reform an absurd usage, as to\nremodel the national physiognomy. How often have both reason and\ndespotism been baffled in their endeavors to effect even a trivial\nalteration in ancient usages or costumes; and there has been room to\nsuppose, that the tenacity of life belonging to customs or opinions,\nbears direct proportion always to their absurdity and their mischievous\nconsequence. The high antiquity, and the still unbroken force of the\nAsiatic idolatries, in themselves so hideous, so burdensome, and so\nsanguinary, stand forth as appalling confirmations of the truth, that\nwhatever has once gained for itself the sanction of time, may boldly\ndefy the assaults of reason. And then, when religious opinions and\npractices are to question, we have not merely to break through the iron\nlaw of immemorial usage, but to encounter the living opposition of the\npriesthood, already firmly seated in the cloud-girt throne of supposed\nsupernatural power, and interested as deeply as men can be who have at\nstake their civil existence, and their credit, and their means of\nluxurious idleness. Again, in most instances, ancient religious opinions\nhave sent down their roots through the solid structure of the civil\ninstitutions of the people:\u2014the old superstition is an oak that was sown\nby the builder of the state, and has actually pervaded the entire\nfoundations, and forms now the living bond-timber, to remove which would\nbe to bring to the ground the whole tottering masonry of the social\nsystem.\n\nWhen this side of the question has been long and exclusively\ncontemplated, the schemes of missionary zeal may seem to be utterly\nchimerical; or if not chimerical\u2014dangerous. But the friends of mankind\ndo not forget that the very same objects may be viewed in another light.\nEven before particular facts are appealed to, an hypothesis of an\nopposite kind may plausibly be advanced. It may be alleged that\nOpinion\u2014the invisible power that rules the world\u2014is a name without\nsubstance, which, though omnipotent so long as it is thought to be so,\nvanishes quicker than a mist, when once suspected to be impotent. It\nmight also with great appearance of reason be affirmed as a universal\nlaw of the moral world, that the better, when fairly brought into\ncollision with the worse, possesses an infallible certainty of ultimate\nprevalence.\n\nOn this same principle, it is common to affirm that the improved\nmechanical processes of a scientific people will at length necessarily\nsupplant the operose, and wasteful, and inefficient methods practised by\nhalf-civilized nations. And thus probably will the ruinous and\ndepopulating usages of despotism give way before the wealth-giving\nmaxims of legal government. And thus also may it be hoped that a pure\ntheology, and a pure morality, shall, if zealously diffused, prevail\ntill they have removed all superstitions, with all their corruptions.\nEven on the lowest principles of natural theology, some such meditative\npower may be presumed to have been imparted to the human system, as a\nprovision against the progress of utter moral dissolution.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nBut while an argument of this sort is at issue, the simple method of\nappealing to such facts as may seem to bear conclusively upon the\nquestion, will assuredly not be neglected; and it will be asked, whether\nthere are on record any instances which give a peremptory negative to\nthe assertion that a national change of religion ought to be thought of\nas an event in the last degree improbable. And why should not the spread\nand triumph of Christianity in the first ages of its promulgation be\naccepted as an instance absolutely conclusive, and in the fullest sense\nanalogous to the problem that is to be solved. To whatever causes that\nfirst prevalence of the religion of the Bible may be attributed, it is\nstill an unquestioned fact that entire nations\u2014not one or two, but many,\nand in every stage of advancement on the course of civilization\u2014were\nactually brought to abandon their ancient superstitions, and to profess\nthe Gospel.\n\nThese amazing revolutions took place under almost every imaginable\nvariety of circumstances, and they occupied a period of not more than\nthree centuries, and the change had been wrought, to a great extent,\nbefore the aid of political succor came in; and even in the front of\npolitical opposition. People after people fell away from their\nidolatries, and assumed (with how much or how little of cordial feeling\nmatters not) the Christian name and code.\n\nHere once more the objector must be urged to select his alternative.\u2014If\nit be granted that Christianity won this wide success by aid from\nheaven, then who will profess to believe that a religion, so supported,\nshall not in the end vanquish mankind? Or if not, then manifestly, the\nfact of the spread of Christianity in the east, and in the west, in the\nnorth, and in the south, destroys altogether the supposed improbability\nof its again supplanting idolatry. It has been proved that nothing\ninseparable from human nature, nothing invincible, stands in the way of\nthe diffusion of our faith among either polished or barbarous\npolytheists; for already has it been victorious in both kinds. Let it be\naffirmed that the religious infatuations of mankind are firm as adamant;\nstill it is a fact that a hammer harder than adamant once shattered the\nrock to atoms. And now, when it is proposed again to smite the same\nsubstance with the same instrument, are those to be deemed irrational\nwho anticipate the same success? In such an anticipation neither the\nsuperior purity and excellence of Christianity need be assumed, nor its\ntruth: nothing is peremptorily affirmed but its well-attested efficiency\nto subvert and supplant other religious systems. A myriad of\nphilosophists may clamorously affirm the missionary project to be\ninsane. Nevertheless Christians, listening rather to the history of\ntheir religion than to the harangues of its modern oppugners, will go on\nto preach in every land, \"That men should turn from dumb idols to serve\nthe living God.\"\n\nThat during a period of more than a thousand years Christianity should\nhardly have gained a foot of ground from polytheism, and should, in some\nquarters, have been driven in from its ancient frontiers, is only\nnatural, seeing that, in the whole course of that time, no extended\nendeavors, or none guided and impelled by the genuine principles of the\nGospel, were made to diffuse it. Angels have no commission to become\nevangelists; and if men neglect their duty in this instance, no means\nremain for supplying their lack of service. The modern missionary\nenterprises (exclusive of some very limited attempts) do not yet date\nfifty years; and while the fact that this spirit of Christian zeal has\nmaintained itself so long, attests its solidity, and gives a promise of\nits perpetuity, its recentness (recent compared with the work to be\nachieved) may justly be alleged in reply to those who ask\u2014from whatever\nmotive\u2014Why are not the nations converted? Within this short space of\ntime the religious public has had to be formed to a right feeling on the\nnew subject; and all the practical wisdom that belongs to an enterprise\nso immense and so difficult has had to be acquired; and the agents of\nthe work at home and abroad, to be trained; and the initiatory\nobstacle\u2014that occasioned by diversity of language\u2014to be removed. The\npreparatives have now been passed through, and successes obtained, large\nand complete enough to quash all objection, and more than enough to\nrecompense what they have cost. And these successes, moreover, warrant\nthe belief that the universal prevalence of Christianity (considered\nsimply as an exterior profession) is suspended upon the continuance of\nthe missionary zeal among the Christians of Europe and America.\n\nInstead of allowing speculation to flit vaguely and ineptly over all the\ndesolate places of the earth's surface, it will be better, if we would\nmake our calculation definite, to fix upon a single region; and while we\nassume it as probable that the existing spirit of missionary vigilance\nand assiduity and self-devotion will continue in vigor during the\nensuing half-century, endeavor roughly to estimate the chances (if the\nword may be used) of the entrance and spread of Christian light in that\none region; and let us select the region which may be deemed altogether\nto occupy the place of an ultimate problem of evangelical enterprise.\nThus announced, every one will of course think of China.\n\nNothing is more difficult than to view, in the nakedness of mere truth,\nany object remote from personal observation, which has once filled the\nimagination with images of vastness and mystery. Thus it often happens\nthat benevolent schemes are robbed of their fair chance of success by\nthe fond illusions which are suffered to swell out an empty bulk, so as\nto hide from view the real difficulties that ought to be deliberately\nmet. And thus it is usual for the timid to amuse their inaction by\ncontemplating spectral forms of danger or obstruction that exist only in\nthe mind. Hindrances and impossibilities may even yield a sort of\ndelight to the imagination, by the aspect of greatness and terror they\nassume; at least while we resolve to view them only at a distance. And\nin such cases he must be singularly destitute of poetic feeling, or\nsingularly conscientious and abstinent in the use of language, who, in\ndescribing the proposed enterprise, does not impart to the mere facts a\nform and coloring of unreal greatness and wonder.\n\nThis sort of illusiveness and exaggeration unquestionably belongs to the\nsubject of Christian missions to China. Who does not feel that the high\nnumbers of its dense and far-spread population, amounting perhaps to\nmore than a sixth part of the human family, and the yet unpenetrated\nveil of mystery which hangs over the origin of the people, and over\ntheir actual condition, and even over the geography of the country; and\nthen the singularity of the national character, and the anomalous\nconstruction of the language, altogether raise a mist of obscurity which\nrests in the way of the inquirer who asks\u2014Is the attempt to introduce\nChristianity among these millions of our brethren utterly vain and\nvisionary?\n\nThe natural exaggerations which infest this subject have indeed been\nsensibly reduced within the last few years: twenty years ago cautious\nand sagacious Protestants would have thought themselves bound, in\ndeference to common sense, to deride the idea of converting China to the\nfaith of Europe. What the _De propaganda_, with its store of\naccommodating measures might attempt, none who must adhere to the\nguileless methods of Christian instruction would undertake: or even if\nan enterprise of this sort were commenced, it must be allowed a date of\nfive hundred years for achieving any considerable success! But better\ninformation, and the actual accomplishment of the initiatory process,\nmust now, by the least sanguine minds, be deemed greatly to have\nlessened the improbabilities of such an attempt, and to have shortened\nthe date of our Christian hopes. What has been accomplished of late by\nthe assiduity, and the intellectual vigor, and the moral intrepidity of\na few individuals, has turned the beam of calculation; and it is now\nrational to talk of that which, very recently, might not have been\nnamed, except among visionaries.\n\nThe brazen gate of China, sculptured with inscrutable characters, and\nbolted and barred, as it seemed, against western ingenuity\u2014the gate of\nits anomalous language, has actually been set wide open; and although\nthe ribbon of despotic interdiction is still stretched across the\nhighway that leads to the popular mind, access, to some extent, has been\nobtained; and who shall affirm that this frail barrier insurmountable as\nit may now seem, shall at all times, during another fifty years, exist,\nand be respected? Within even a much shorter term, is it not probable,\nthat revolutions of dynasty, or popular commotions, may suspend or\ndivert, for a moment, the vigilance of jealous ignorance? In some such\nmanner it may be supposed that, the means of diffusing religious\nknowledge being, as they are, accumulated, and headed up above the level\nof the plains of China, the dam bursting, or falling into decay, the\nhealing flood of Christian truth shall suffuse itself in all directions\nover the vast surface.\n\nBut we are told that the national intellect is spellbound in a condition\nof irremediable imbecility. The people, it is said, have no ideas but\nsuch as are fixed under the petrifactions of their ancient usages; or\neven if they had a mind in which ideas might float, they have no medium\nof communication, or none which can take up even an atom of knowledge or\nof sentiment that is of foreign growth. How then shall such a people be\nconverted to Christianity? Were it not as well to attempt to inform and\npersuade the sculptures of Elephanta, or the glazed images of their own\npottery? To all this show of impossibility, a full and sufficient reply\nis contained in a single affirmation of Scripture, not less\nphilosophically just than it is beautiful and sublime\u2014\"The Lord looketh\nfrom heaven, he beholdeth all the sons of men: from the place of his\nhabitation he looketh upon all the inhabitants of the earth: he\nfashioneth their hearts alike.\"\n\nThe old doctrine that there are certain generic and invincible\ninferiorities of intellect which must forever bar the advancement of\nsome branches of the human family, has of late received so signal a\nrefutation in the instance of the African race\u2014long and pertinaciously\nconsigned by interested philosophers to perpetual degradation\u2014that it\nnow hardly needs to be argued against. And assuredly, if the negro\ncranium is found, spite of phrenologists, to admit of mathematical\nabstraction, fine taste, and fine feeling, it will not be affirmed that\nthe skull of the Tartar or Chinese must necessarily exclude similar\nexcellences. To assert, either that nature has conferred no physical\nsuperiorities, favorable to the development of mind, on particular\nraces, or to maintain that the comparative disadvantages of some nations\nare so great and unalterable as to constitute impassable barriers in the\nway of civilization, is equally a quackery which history and existing\nfacts condemn, and which nothing but the love of theory or\nsimplification could ever recommend to an intelligent observer of\nmankind. With the uniform evidence of history before us, it may well be\nassumed as probable that certain races will always retain the\nintellectual pre-eminence they have acquired; nor is it at all less\nreasonable to suppose that every tribe, even the most degraded, is\nintrinsically capable of whatever is essential to a state of social\norder and moral dignity.\n\nIf the lowest degree of proficiency in the mechanical arts is justly\nheld to give proof of the existence of those powers of abstraction\nwhence, with proper culture, the sciences may take their rise, so, with\nequal certainty, may we infer a susceptibility of the religious emotions\nfrom even the feeblest indications of the moral sense. When a people\ndiffused over so extensive a surface, and so thickly covering that\nsurface, is seen to submit itself intelligently to the patriarchal form\nof government, which implies the constant and powerful influence of a\nmoral abstraction, and a vivid sense of unseen power, no doubt can\nremain of its capacity to admit the motives of Christian faith.\n\nThe Chinese are what they are, more from the natural consequence of\nhaving sustained, during many successive generations, what may be termed\nnational imprisonment, than from the operation of any physical\ndisabilities. So complete and successful an interdiction of intercourse\nwith strangers has not been known to take place in any other country;\nand a closer fitting of the restraints of custom and etiquette upon the\nmanners than has elsewhere been effected, has not failed to impart to\nthe national character that peculiar _gait_\u2014if the phrase maybe\nused\u2014which must distinguish one who had been released from his\nswaddling-bands only to be encumbered with a chain, and had worn that\nchain through life. Of the Chinese people it may truly be said that \"the\niron hath entered into their soul.\"\n\nBut even without resting upon the probability of the subversion of the\nexisting despotism, the defeat of its jealous precautions may be\nanticipated as what must at length result from the present course of\nevents. That portion of the Chinese population which may be termed the\n_extra-mural_, and which, in numbers, exceeds some European nations, may\nbe considered as the depository of the happy destinies of the empire;\nfor these expatriate millions are accessible to instruction; and if once\nthey become, to any considerable extent, alive to religious truth, no\nprohibitions of paternal despotism will avail to exclude the new\nprinciples from the mother country. It is a false feeling that would\ndraw discouragement from the comparative diminutiveness and small actual\nresults of the operations that are carrying on for imparting\nChristianity to this people. These measures ought, in philosophical\njustice, to be viewed as the commencements of an accelerative movement,\nacting incessantly upon an inert mass, which, by the very laws of\nnature, must at length receive impulse enough to be carried forward in\nthe course of the propelling cause. To be assured of this result, all\nthat we need is to be assured of the continuance of the spring of\nmovement.\n\nIf the several spheres of missionary labor are reviewed, none, it is\npresumed, can be deemed to offer more serious obstacles than the one\nalready referred to; or if there be one such, yet have fact and\nexperiment already given a full reply to all objections. May it be\npermitted to say that a voice from heaven, full of meaning, is heard in\nthe particular character of the successes, how limited soever they may\nbe, which have crowned the incipient attempts to convert the heathen?\nThe veriest reprobates of civilization and social order have been the\nfirst to be brought in to grace the triumphs of the Gospel in its recent\nattempts at foreign conquest; as if at once to solve all doubts, and to\nrefute all cavils, relating to the practicability and promise of the\nenterprise. If it had been thought or affirmed that the stupefaction and\ninduration of heart produced upon a race by ages of uncorrected ferocity\nand sensuality must repel forever the attempts of Christian zeal, it is\nshown, in the instance of the extremest specimens that could have been\nselected, that a few years only of beneficent skill and patience are\nenough to transform the fierce and voluptuous savage into a being of\npure, and gentle, and noble sentiments; that within a few years all the\ndomestic virtues, and even the public virtues, graced with the decencies\nof rising industry, may occupy the very spots that were recking with\nhuman blood, and with the filthiness of every abomination which the sun\nblushes to behold.\n\nIf one islet only of the Southern Ocean had cast away its idols and its\nhorrific customs, if one hamlet only of the Negro or Hottentot race had\nbecome Christian, there would have been no more place left on which the\nobjector against missions could rest his cavils; for the problem of the\nconversion of the heathen would have been satisfactorily solved. But in\ntruth, these happy and amazing revolutions have taken place with such\nfrequency, and under so great a diversity of circumstance, and in front\nof so many obstacles, that instead of asking whether barbarous nations\nmay be persuaded to forsake their cruel delusions, it may with more\npropriety be asked\u2014if anything can prevent the progress of such reforms\nuniversally, where Christian zeal and wisdom perseveringly perform their\npart.\n\nThe relative political and commercial condition of nations at the\npresent moment, affords several special grounds of reasoning, on which\nthe extention of Christianity may be anticipated as a probable event.\nAmong topics of this class may be named that of the diffusion of the\nEnglish language\u2014the language which beyond comparison with any other is\nspreading and running through all the earth, and which, by the commerce\nand enterprise of two independent and powerful states, is colonizing the\nshores of every sea; this language, now pouring itself over all the\nwaste places of the earth, is the principal medium of Christian truth\nand feeling, and is rich in every means of Christian instruction, and is\nfraught with religious sentiment, in all kinds, adapted to the taste of\nthe philosopher, the cottager, and the infant. Almost apart, therefore,\nfrom missionary labor, the spread of this language insures the spread of\nthe religion of the Bible. The doctrine is entwined with the language,\nand can hardly be disjoined. If the two expansive principles of\ncolonization and commercial enterprise, once diffused the language and\nreligion of Greece completely around every sea known to ancient\nnavigation, it is now much more probable that the same principles of\ndiffusion will carry English institutions, and English opinions, into\nevery climate.\n\nBut in calculations or speculations of this sort, merely secular as they\nare, much less is included than truly belongs to the question at issue.\nNot to assume the truth of Christianity, and not to argue on the ground\nof its divine excellence, and not to confide in those prospective\ndeclarations, the certainty of which has been attested beyond\npossibility of doubt, is not only to grope in the dark when we might\nwalk in the light of noon, but to exclude from the working of our\nproblem the very facts of most significance in its determination. To\nestimate fairly the probability of the universal triumph of true\nreligion, a second method must be pursued, in which the existing\ncondition of the Christian church is to be contemplated with a Christian\nfeeling. When thus viewed it will appear that a promise of a new kind is\nnow bursting from the bud; and the inference may confidently be drawn\nthat \"summer is nigh.\"\n\nFor the purpose of measuring the progress of religion, attempts have\nsometimes been made to effect a sort of Christian statistics, or\ncalculation of the actual number of true believers throughout the world.\nBut the propriety of such an application of arithmetic is far from being\nconspicuous; and seeing that the subject of computation lies confessedly\nbeneath the reach of the human eye, its accuracy may be absolutely\ndenied. Endeavors, again, have been made to judge of the advance or\ndecline of religion by comparing the state of devotional feeling and of\nmorals in the present and in other times. But all such comparisons must\nbe deemed, at the best, extremely vague, and open to immense errors,\narising either from the prepossessions of the individual who makes the\ncomparison, or from the want of data sufficiently ample and exact; and\nprobably from both.\n\nNo attempts of this delusive kind will here be offered to the reader;\nbut instead of them, certain unquestionable and obvious facts will be\nassumed as affording reasonable ground of very exhilarating hopes.\n\nIf any one were required, without premeditation, to give a reply to the\nquestion\u2014What is the most prominent circumstance in the present state of\nthe Christian Church? he would, if sufficiently informed on the subject,\nalmost certainly answer\u2014The honor done to the Scriptures. Such an answer\nmay be supposed as suggested by the conspicuousness of the fact. Now in\norder to gather our inference safely from this fact, it is necessary to\nlook back for a moment to past times.\n\nIn the first and best age of the church, the deference paid to the\ninspired writings, whether of prophets or apostles, was as great as can\nbe imagined to exist: and whatever of beneficial influence belongs to\nthe Sacred Volume, was then actually in operation; or it was so with a\nsingle drawback, namely\u2014that arising from the scarcity of the book, and\nits non-existence in the hands of the Christian commonalty. To estimate\nduly the greatness of this disadvantage, let it be imagined what would\nbe the effect, among ourselves, of a sudden withdrawment of almost all\nbut the church copies of the Scriptures. This supposition need not be\nenlarged upon, for every devotional Christian, and every master of a\nfamily feels that, in whatever way the loss might be attempted to be\nsupplied, it would still be afflicting and injurious in the extremest\ndegree.\n\nIn the next, and the declining period of church history, if the\nabove-named disadvantage was in some small degree remedied by the\nmultiplication of copies, the benefit was much more than overbalanced by\nthe promulgation and general prevalence of a false and very pernicious\nsystem of exposition; a system which sheathed the \"sword of the Spirit,\"\nand scarcely left it its power or penetrating the conscience. The\nimmediate consequence of this abuse of the rule of faith and practice\nwas the rapid growth of a thousand corruptions. Thus, while in lip and\nin ceremonial the Scriptures held their seat of authority, they were\ndislodged from the throne of power. A night of a thousand years\nsucceeded, during which the witnesses of God lay in their tomb,\nliterally and virtually hidden, and silenced, and degraded.\n\nThe Reformation was, in all senses, a resurrection of the Bible: it was\nits recovery and restoration as an ancient document; and the recognition\nof its authority as the word of God; and the discovery of its meaning as\na rule of faith, and worship, and life; and its new diffusion through\nthe Christian body. The restoration of the Scriptures to their place of\npower and honor brought with it a revival of true piety, scarcely, if at\nall, inferior in extent and fervency to that which attended the\npreaching of the apostles. There were, however, deductions from the full\ninfluence and permanent benefit that might have resulted from this\nrecovery of the sacred canon. Of these deductions, the first was the\nlimited and imperfect diffusion of copies; for though the publication of\nthe Bible by means of the press was actually great, it fell very far\nshort of being complete. The next deduction arose from the infant state\nof the science of biblical criticism; the next, from the still unbroken\ninfluence of scholastic systems and modes of expression, which spread a\ndense coloring medium over the lucidness of the apostolic style; the\nnext, and the most considerable and pernicious of these drawbacks, arose\nfrom the acrimony of controversy, and from that spirit of contumacious\nscrupulosity which is the parent of schism. These imperfections were\ngreat enough to bar the progress of Christianity, and to sully its glory\nat the time, and to procure the speedy decline of piety in all the\nProtestant countries.\n\nBut when the present aspect of the church is compared with its condition\nat the era of the Reformation, several circumstances connected with the\nstate of the Scriptures offer themselves to observation, that are\ndecidedly in favor of our times; and such as seem pregnant with hope for\nthe future. Of these, the first is the unexampled multiplication and\ndiffusion of the sacred volume: the second, is the progress that has\nbeen made towards bringing the original text to a state of undisputed\npurity; as well as the advancement of the science of biblical criticism,\nby which means the verbal meaning of the inspired writers is now\nascertained more satisfactorily than at any time since the apostolic\nage: and the third, is the incipient adoption of an improved method of\nexposition; attended by an increasing disposition to bow to the Bible,\nas the only arbiter in matters of religion. It remains, then, briefly to\npoint out in what manner these auspicious circumstances support the hope\nof an approaching revival of genuine religion.\n\nFor the first of them, namely, the multiplication and diffusion of the\nsacred volume:\n\nWhenever the true and the false in matters of religion are brought into\nconflict, two things are necessary to secure the triumph of the better\nside, namely, in the first place, that the sound opinion should be set\nforth in a perspicuous and convincing manner; and then, that it should\nbe borne forwards over the resistances of antiquated prejudice, and\nworldly interest, and secular power, by the momentum of public feeling.\nIt is not the single preaching even of an archangel, that could effect\nthe renovation of the church when it really needs to be brought back to\npurity and health. All the logic of heaven would die unheeded on the\near, unless it were re-echoed from the multitude. Now if it may for a\nmoment be assumed that a general rectification of doctrine and practice,\nand a revival of primitive piety is actually about to take place, what\nis that preliminary measure which might be anticipated as the necessary\nmeans of giving irresistible force, and universal spread to such a\nreformation? What but the placing of the sacred canon, the arbiter of\nall dispute, and the fountain of all motives, previously in the hands of\nthe people of every country? If, in the coming era, the teachers of\nreligion are to insist upon its doctrines and duties with new force and\nclearness, their success must be expected to bear proportion to the\nexistence of scriptural knowledge, or to the means of acquiring it,\namong those whom they address.\n\nAn extraordinary excitement of religious feeling, arising previously to\nthe general circulation of the Scriptures, can hardly be imagined to\ntake so prosperous and safe a course, as it would, if it followed that\ncirculation. So far as a conjecture on the methods of divine procedure\nmay be hazarded; it must be believed that the extensive dissemination of\nthe Scriptures, which has of late been carrying on, and which is still\nin active progress, in all those parts of the world that are accessible\nto Christian zeal, is a precursive measure, soon to be followed by that\nhappy revolution of which it gives so intelligible an augury.\n\nLet it be said, and perhaps it may be said with some truth, that the\nactual religious impression hitherto produced by the copious issuing of\nBibles among the common people in our own and other countries, is less\nremarkable than might have been anticipated; then, with so much the more\nconfidence may the belief be entertained that this extraordinary\npublication of the will of God to man is, on the part of him who\noverrules all events for the furtherance of his gracious designs,\naltogether a prospective measure; and that the special intention of\nthese many translations, and of these countless reprints of the Bible is\nyet to be developed.\n\nIs there much of gratuitous assumption, or of unwarrantable speculation\nin picturing the present position of mankind in some such manner as the\nfollowing?\u2014During a long course of ages a controversy, managed with\nvarious success, has been carried on here and there in the world, on the\ngreat questions of immortality, and of the liability of man to future\npunishment, as the transgressor of the divine law; and concerning the\nterms of reconciliation. Hitherto, there has stood, on the affirmative,\nor religious side of this controversy, only a small and scattered party;\nwhile on the other side, there has remained, with more or less of active\nhostility, the great majority of mankind, who have chosen to pursue the\ninterests of the present life, as if no doctrine of immortality had been\ncredibly announced; and who have dared the future displeasure of the\nMost High; and have ventured the loss of endless happiness; and have\nspurned the conditions of pardon. But it is imagined that now, events of\na new order are to bring this momentous controversy to a final crisis.\nYet before the moment of awful decision comes on, and while all minds\nremain in the listlessness of the ancient apathy, and while the winds of\nhigh commotion lie hushed in the caverns of divine restraint\u2014in this\nseason of portentous tranquillity, those writings, upon the authority of\nwhich the issue is to turn, are put into every hand; and although the\nhands that receive them, seem now to hold the book with a careless\ngrasp, ere long an alarm shall be sounded through all nations; and all\nshall be roused from their spiritual sleep, and shall awake to feel that\nthe interests of an endless life are in suspense: then shall it appear\nfor what purpose the Bible has first been delivered to every people!\n\nThese views, it is granted, are in part conjectural, and yet, who that\nentertains a belief of the providential guidance of the Christian\nchurch, can suppose that the most remarkable course of events that has\nhitherto ever marked the history of the Scriptures, is not charged with\nthe accomplishment of some unusual revolution? and what revolution less\nthan the installment of the inspired volume in the throne of universal\nauthority, can be thought of, as the probable result of the work that is\nnow carrying forwards? If the prejudices of the sceptical spirit, which,\nin some degree, blind even the most devout, were removed, every eye,\naccustomed to penetrate futurity, would see, in the recent diffusion of\nthe Sacred Writings, an indubitable sign of their approaching triumph\nover all forms of impiety and false religion.\n\nThe friends of Bible Societies might, on this ground, find a motive for\nactivity that would be proof against all discouragement. When missionary\nefforts meet disappointment, and when accomplished teachers are removed\nin quick succession by death, and when stations where much toil has been\nexpended are abandoned, and when converts fall away from their\nprofession, the whole fruit of zeal perishes: but it is otherwise in the\nwork of translating and of multiplying the Scriptures; for although\nthese endeavors should at first be rejected by those for whose benefit\nthey are designed; still, what has been done is not lost; the seed sown\nmay spring up, even after a century of winter. Even if the existing\nBible Societies, at home and abroad, should do nothing more than\naccomplish the initiative labors of translation, and should spend their\nrevenues in filling their warehouses with an undemanded stock of Bibles,\nthey would almost insure the universal diffusion of true religion in the\nensuing age. Immediate success is doubtless to be coveted; but though\nthis should be withheld, the work of translation and of printing is\npregnant with an infallible promise.\n\nThe restoration of the Sacred Text to a state of almost undisputed\npurity, the accumulation of the resources of biblical criticism, and the\ngreat advances that have been made in the business of ascertaining the\ngrammatical sense of the inspired writers, are circumstances in a very\nhigh degree conducive to the expected prevalence of genuine religion.\nBoth infidelity and heresy have, till of late, found harborage in the\nsupposed, or pretended, corruption, or uncertainty of the canon. And the\nwhole of those small successes, which have served, from time to time, to\nkeep alive the flickering hopes of heterodoxy, have been drawn from the\ndetection of petty faults in the received text. There was a season when\nsome, even of the champions of orthodoxy, became infected with\nunwarrantable fears and suspicions on this ground. But the utmost depth\nof the \u1f15\u03bb\u03ba\u03bf\u03c2 has been probed. The most sanguine sceptic can henceforward\nhardly hope to derive any new or important advantages from this source.\nThe text of the Scriptures is now in a state more satisfactory than that\nof any other ancient writings; and though ignorance may go on to prate\nas it is wont, no theologian, who would not forfeit his reputation as a\nscholar, dares to insist upon objections which some years ago were\nthought to be of the most formidable kind.\n\nIt is remarkable that this work of purgation and restoration, which,\nlike that of the translation and diffusion of the Scriptures, is\nmanifestly of a preliminary kind, should have been completed at this\nprecise moment. Had these doubts and suspicions remained unexamined and\nunsettled, they might greatly have checked the progress of a future\nreligious revival: they might have given birth to new heresies, vigorous\nfrom the enhanced tone of general feeling; they might have shaken the\nminds of the faithful, and have distracted the attention of the\nministers of religion. But this preparatory work is done; and so fully\nhave the holds of sceptical doctrine been searched into, and so\nthoroughly has the invalidity of its pleas been exposed, that nothing is\nnow wanted but an energetic movement of the public mind to shake off\nforever all its withering sophisms.\n\nIt is not as if even the most faulty translation of the Scriptures; or\none made from the most defective text, would not abundantly convey all\nnecessary religious truth; or, as if Christian doctrine and practice\nwere, to any great extent, dependent upon philological exactitude of any\nkind. But in removing occasions for the cavils and insinuations of\ncaptious or timid spirits, the literary restoration of the Bible, and\nthe abundant means of ascertaining the grammatical sense of its phrases,\nis highly important. And in looking towards the future, it must be\nregarded as a circumstance of peculiar significance that the documents\nof our faith have just passed through the severest possible ordeal of\nhostile criticism at the very moment when they are in course of delivery\nto all nations.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe recent progress made towards the adoption of an improved method of\nexposition demands to be named amongst the most auspicious indications\nof the present times. Insensibly, and undesignedly, and from the\noperation of various causes, all well-intentioned theologians have of\nlate been fast advancing towards that simple and rational method of\ninferring the doctrine of Scripture which corresponds with the inductive\nmethod of inquiry, practiced in the pursuit of physical science. Just\nas, in the ancient schools of philosophy, each pretended expounder of\nthe mysteries of nature, first framed his theory, and then imposed upon\nall phenomena such an interpretation as would best accord with his\nhypothesis; so have biblical expositors, in long succession, from the\nancient Jewish doctors, to the Christian divines of the last century,\nwith very few, if any exceptions, followed the method of interpreting\neach separate portion of Scripture by the aid of a previously formed\ntheological hypothesis. And although these theories of divinity may have\nbeen, perhaps, fairly founded upon scriptural evidence, partially\nobtained, they have often exerted an influence scarcely less pernicious\nthan as if they had been altogether erroneous. This system once admitted\nto constitute a synopsis of truth, has been suffered to exercise the\nmost arrogant domination over every part of Scripture in detail. Certain\ndogmas, awfully clothed in the clouds of metaphysical phraseology, have\nbid defiance to the most explicit evidence of an opposite meaning; and\nno text has been permitted to utter its testimony, until it had been\nplaced on the rack.\n\nBut the folly and impiety of this style of interpretation have become\nconspicuous; and though not yet quite abandoned, it is left to those\nwhose minds have been too long habituated to trammels to move at all\nwithout them. The rule of the new mode of exposition is founded on a\nprinciple precisely analogous to that which forms the basis of the\ninductive method of inquiry in physical science. In these sciences it is\nnow universally admitted, that, at the best, and after all possible\ndiligence and sagacity have been employed, we can scarcely penetrate\nbeyond the exterior movements of the material system; while the interior\nmechanism of nature still defies human scrutiny. Nothing then could be\nmore preposterous than to commence the study of nature by laying down,\ntheoretically, the plan of those hidden and central contrivances, as if\nthey were open to observation; and then to work outwards from that\ncentre, and to explain all facts that come under observation in\nconformity with principles so ignorantly assumed. This is indeed to take\na lie in our right hand, as the key of knowledge: yet such was the\nphilosophy which ruled the world for ages!\n\nThe method of hypothetical interpretation is, if possible, more absurd\nin theology than in natural science. Every mind not infatuated by\nintellectual vanity, must admit, that it is only some few necessary\npoints of knowledge, relating to the constitution and movements of the\ninfinite and spiritual world, that can be made the matter of revelation\nto mankind; and these must be offered in detached portions, apart from\ntheir symmetry. Meanwhile the vast interior, the immeasurable whole, is\nnot merely concealed, but is in itself strictly incomprehensible by\nhuman faculties. Metaphysical projections of the moral system, how neat\nsoever, and entire, and plausible they may seem, can have no place in\nwhat deserves to be called a rational theology. We not only do not know,\nbut we could not learn, the very things which the framer of a\n\"scientific divinity\" professes to spread forth in all their due\nproportions on his chart of the upper world.\n\nThe mode in which the necessarily incomplete revelation of that upper\nworld is conveyed in the Scriptures, is in harmony with that in which\nthe phenomena of nature offer themselves to our notice. The sum or\namount of divine knowledge really intended to be conveyed to us, has\nbeen broken up and scattered over a various surface: it has been\nhalf-hidden, and half-displayed; it has been couched beneath hasty and\nincidental allusions; it has been doled out in morsels and in atoms.\nThere are no logical synopses in the Bible; there are no scientific\npresentations of the body of divinity; no comprehensive digests; for\nsuch would have been not only unsuited to popular taste and\ncomprehension, but actually impracticable; since they must have\ncontained that which neither the mind of man can receive, nor his\nlanguage embody. Better far might a seraph attempt to convey the\nlargeness of his celestial ideas to a child, than God impart a\nsystematic revelation to man. On the contrary, it is almost as if the\nvessel of divine philosophy had been wrecked and broken in a distant\nstorm; and as if the fragments only had come drifting upon our world,\nwhich, like an islet in the ocean of eternity, has drawn to itself what\nmight be floating near its shores.\n\nThe abrupt and illogical style of oriental composition, and in some\ninstances, the characteristic simplicity of untutored minds, are to be\nregarded as the appropriate means chosen for imparting to mankind such\nloose particles of religious truth as it was necessary for them to\nreceive. This inartificial vehicle was, of all others, the one best\nadapted to the conveyance of a revelation, necessarily imperfect and\npartial.\n\nNow it is manifest that the mode of exposition must be conformed to the\nstyle of the document; and this conformity demands that the inductive\nmethod, invariably, should be used for gleaning the sense of Scripture.\nWhile employing all the well-known means proper for ascertaining the\ngrammatical sense of ancient writers, each single passage of the\nInspired Volume, like a single phenomenon of nature, is to be\ninterrogated for its evidence, without any solicitude for the fate of a\npreconceived theory, and without asking\u2014How is this evidence to be\nreconciled with that derived from other quarters?\u2014for it is remembered\nthat the revelation we are studying is a partial discovery of facts,\nwhich could not be more than imperfectly made known. Whoever has not yet\nfully satisfied himself that the Scriptures, throughout, were \"given by\ninspiration of God,\" should lose no time in determining that doubt: but\nif it be determined, then it is a flagrant inconsistency not to confide\nin the principle that the Bible is everywhere truly consistent with\nitself, whether or not we have the means of tracing its agreements. And\nwhile this principle is adhered to, no sentiment or fact plainly\ncontained in the words, need be refused or contorted on account of its\napparent incongruity with \"systematic divinity.\"\n\nIn this manner only is it possible that the whole amount of religious\nknowledge intended to be imparted by the Scriptures can be gathered from\nthem. It must be granted as not only probable, but certain, that\nwhatever relates to infinity, to the Divine nature, to the ultimate\npurposes of the Divine government, to the unseen worlds, and to the\nfuture state, and even to the mechanism of motives, must offer itself to\nthe human understanding in a form beset with difficulties. That this\nmust actually be the case might be demonstrated with mathematical\ncertainty. If therefore we resolve to receive from the Inspired Writers\nnothing but what we can reconcile, first to certain abstruse notions,\nand then to a particular interpretation of other passages, the\nconsequence is inevitable\u2014that we obtain a theology, needlessly limited,\nif not erroneous.\n\nIt may fairly be supposed that there are treasures of divine knowledge\nyet latent beneath the surface of the Scriptures, which the practice of\nscholastic exposition, so long adhered to, on all sides, has locked up\nfrom the use of the Church; and it may be hoped, that when that method\nhas fallen completely into disuse, and when the simple and humble style\nof inductive interpretation is better understood, and is more constantly\nresorted to than at present, and when the necessary imperfection and\nincoherency of all human knowledge of divine things is fully recognized,\nand when the vain attempt to fashion a miniature model of the spiritual\nuniverse is for ever abandoned, and when whatever the Inspired Writers\neither explicitly affirm, or obscurely intimate, is embraced in\nsimplicity of heart, that then the boundaries of our prospect of the\nhidden and the future world may be vastly enlarged. Nor is this all; for\nin the same manner the occasions of controversy will be almost entirely\nremoved; and though small differences of opinion may remain, it will be\nseen by all to be flagrantly absurd to assume such inconsiderable\ndiversities as the pretexts of dissention and separation.\n\nNo one cordially reverencing the Bible, and believing it to be given by\ninspiration of God, who is \"not the author of confusion, but of order,\"\ncan imagine it to have been so worded and constructed as to necessitate\nimportant diversities of interpretation among those who humbly and\ndiligently labor to obtain its meaning. Nor will any but bigots deny\nthat, with those who differ from themselves, there may be found\ndiligence and sincerity quite equal to their own. What account then is\nto be given of those contrarieties of opinion which continue to sully\nthe glory of the Christian Church, and to deprive it almost entirely of\nits expansive energy?\n\nIn endeavouring to give a satisfactory reply to this important question,\nwe are, of course, entitled to dismiss from the discussion, first, those\nerrors of doctrine which spring immediately from the prepossessions of\nproud and unholy minds, and which are not to be refuted until such evil\ndispositions are rectified. It is not a better exposition of Scripture,\nmerely, that will afford an efficient remedy for such false opinions. In\nthe next place it is proper to put out of the question all those\npolitico-religious divisions which, as they originated in accident, so\nnow rest for their maintenance much less upon reason, than upon the\nauthority of habit, and the pertinacity of party feeling, or perhaps\neven upon motives of secular interest. All such causes of schism must be\nscattered to the winds whenever the authoritative force of the divine\ninjunctions to peace and union, and mutual forbearance, is vividly felt.\n\nThere should moreover be dismissed from the question those differences\nthat have arisen in the Church on some special points of antiquarian\nobscurity. These having been in a past age absurdly lifted into\nimportance by an exaggerated notion of the right and duty of Christians\nto stickle upon their individual opinions, even at the cost of the great\nlaw of love, are now pretty generally felt by men of right feeling, to\nbe heir-looms of shame and disadvantage to whoever holds them. A very\nprobable return to good sense and piety is all that is needed to get rid\nfor ever of such disputes. If the utmost endeavors of competent and\nhonest men, on both sides, have not availed to put certain questions of\nancient usage beyond doubt; then it is manifest that such points do not\nbelong to the fundamentals of faith or practice; and therefore can never\nafford ground of justifiable separation; nor should the Christian\ncommonalty be encouraged to suppose that the solemnities of conscience\nare implicated in the decision of questions which, even the most learned\ncannot in fact decide. What less than a grievous injury to right\nfeelings can ensue from the popular belief that the manifold evils of\nreligious dissension are mischiefs of small moment, compared with the\nbreach of some niceties of ceremonial? Shall Christianity spread in the\nworld, and show itself glorious, while practical absurdities like these\nare persisted in? assuredly not. But there is reason to believe, even in\nspite of the fixedness of some unsocial spirits, that the date of schism\nis nearly expired, and that a better understanding of the great law of\nChrist will ere long bring all his true followers into the same fold.\n\nWhen the deductions named above have been made, the remaining\ndifferences that exist among the pious are such only as may fairly\nbe attributed to the influence of the old theoretic system of\ninterpretation; and they are such as must presently disappear when the\nrule of INDUCTIVE EXPOSITION shall be thoroughly understood and\ngenerally practised. The hope therefore of an approaching prosperous era\nin the Church depends, in great measure, upon the probability of a\ncordial return to the authority of Scripture\u2014of Scripture unshackled\nby hypothesis. It is this return alone that can remove the\nmisunderstandings which have parted the body of Christ; and it is the\nreunion of the faithful that must usher in better times.\n\nThat a torn church should be eminently prosperous, that it should be\nfavored as the instrument of diffusing the Gospel with triumphant\nsuccess, and on a large scale, among the nations, cannot be imagined;\nfor doubtless the Head of the church holds the most emphatic of his\nadmonitions in higher esteem than that he should easily brook the breach\nand contempt of it, and put extraordinary honor upon those who seem to\nlove their particular opinions more than they do \"his commandment.\"\n\nEven without laying any great stress upon that softening of party\nprejudices which has of late actually taken place, the hope of a near\ntermination of controversy, and of the healing of all permanent\ndifferences among true Christians, may still rest on solid ground. An\nintelligent faith in the divine origination of the Scriptures contains\nnecessarily a belief in their power to bring the catholic church into a\nstate of unity, so that division should no more be thought of. That,\nduring so many ages this has not been the condition of the Christian\nbody, is satisfactorily to be attributed to causes which are by no means\nof inevitable perpetuity; but, which on the contrary, seem now to be\napproaching their last stage of feeble existence. Meanwhile the Oracles\nof God are visibly ascending to the zenith of their rightful power. The\nnecessary preparations for their instalment in the place of undisputed\nauthority are completed; and nothing is waited for but a movement of\ngeneral feeling, to give them such influence as shall bear down whatever\nnow obstructs the universal communion of the faithful.\n\nAn expectation of this sort will, of course, be spurned by those (if\nthere are any such) who, were they deprived of their darling sectarism,\nand robbed of their sinister preferences, would scarcely care at all for\nChristianity, and to whom the idea of Catholic Christianity, if they can\nadmit such an idea, is a cold abstraction. And it will be rejected also\nby those who, though their feelings are Christian, accustom themselves\nto look at the state of religion always with a secular eye, and are\nindisposed to admit any suppositions not obtruded upon them by immediate\nmatters of fact. To all such persons the existing obstacles that stand\nin the way of Church union must seem utterly insurmountable, and the\nhope of an annihilation of party distinctions, altogether chimerical.\nBut it is not to such minds that the appeal is to be made when futurity\nis in question; for such are always slaves of the past, and of the\npresent; and they are destined to stand by, and wonder, and cavil, while\nhappy revolutions are in progress; and it is only when resistance to the\ncourse of things becomes impracticable, that they are dragged on\nreluctantly, more like captives than attendants, upon the triumphant\nmarch of truth.\n\nThis assuredly may be asserted, that, so far as human agency can operate\nto bring on a better era to the church, he who despairs of it, hinders\nit, to the extent of his influence; while he who expects it hastens it\nso far as it may be accelerated. This difference of feeling might even\nbe assumed as furnishing a test of character; and it might be affirmed,\nthat when the question of the probable revival and spread of\nChristianity is freely agitated, those who embrace the affirmative side,\nare (with few exceptions) the persons whose temper of mind is the most\nin harmony with the expected happy revolution, and who would, with the\ngreatest readiness, act their parts in the new and better economy; while\non the Contrary, those who contentedly or despondingly give a long date\nto existing imperfections and corruptions, may fairly be suspected of\nloving \"the things that are\" too well.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThere is yet another line of argument, wholly independent of the two\nthat have been pursued above, in which the general spread of true\nreligion might be made to appear an event probably not very remote;\nnamely, the argument from prophecy. But besides that the subject is by\nfar too large and serious to be treated hastily, the time is not arrived\nin which it might be discussed with the calmness it demands. Yet in\npassing this subject it may be suggested to whose who, notwithstanding\nthat they admit the truth of Christianity, constantly deride genuine\npiety whenever it comes in their way, that, though the apparent course\nof events seems to indicate a gradual improvement, such as would give\ntime to oppugners to choose the wiser part, and to range themselves\nquietly in the train of the conquering religion, the general tenor of\nscriptural prediction holds out a different prospect, and gives great\nreason to suppose that the final triumph of the Gospel is to be ushered\nin by some sudden and vindictive visitation, which shall arrest impiety\nin its full career, and deny for ever to the then impenitent the option\nof making a better choice.\n\n\n\n\nNOTES.\n\n\nSECTION VIII.\n\nThe following anecdote is reported by Sulpitius, concerning St. Martin\nof Tours. The Emperor Maximus, a man of a haughty temper, and elated by\nvictories over his rivals, had received the unworthy adulation of a\ncrowd of fawning bishops; while Martin alone maintained the apostolic\nauthority. For when suits were to be urged, he rather commanded than\nentreated the royal compliance, and refused many solicitations to take a\nplace with others of his order at the imperial table, saying, that he\nwould not eat bread with a man who had deprived one emperor of his\nthrone, and another of life. But at length, when Maximus excused his\nassumption of the purple by pleading the force that had been put upon\nhim by the legions, the use he had made of power, and the apparent\nsanction of heaven in the successes with which he had been favored, and\nstated also that he had never destroyed an enemy except in open fight,\nMartin, overcome by reason, or by entreaties, repaired to the royal\nbanquet, to the great joy of the emperor. The tables were crowded by\npersons of quality; among them, the brother and uncle of Maximus;\nbetween these reclined one of Martin's presbyters; he himself occupied a\nseat near the emperor. During supper, according to custom, the waiter\npresented a goblet of wine to the emperor, who commanded it rather to be\noffered to so holy a bishop, from whose hand he expected and desired to\nreceive it again. But Martin, when he had drank of the cup, handed it to\nhis presbyter, not deeming any one present more worthy to drink after\nhimself; nor would he have thought it becoming to his character had he\npreferred even the emperor, or those next to him in dignity, to his own\npresbyter. It is added, that Maximus and his officers took this contempt\nin exceeding good part!\u2014_Sulp. Sev. de Vita B. Martin_, cap. xx.\n\nThe same writer reports a not less characteristic incident in honor of\nthe holy bishop, in his dialogue concerning the miraculous powers of St.\nMartin. This personage, it seems, was in the habit of frequenting the\npalace, where he was always honorably entertained by the empress, who\nnot only hung upon his lips for instruction, but in imitation of the\npenitent mentioned in the gospels, actually bathed his feet with her\ntears, and wiped them with her hair; and he, who never before had\nsustained the touch of woman, could not avoid her assiduities. She,\nunmindful of the state and dignity and splendors of her royal rank, lay\nprostrate at the feet of Martin, whence she could not be removed until\nshe had obtained permission, first from her husband, and then by his aid\nfrom the bishop, to wait upon him at table as his servant, without the\nassistance of any menial. The blessed man could no longer resist her\nimportunities; and the empress herself made the requisite preparations\nof the couch, and table, and cookery (in temperate style), and water for\nthe hands; and, as he sat, stood aloof, and motionless, in the manner\nproper to a slave; with due modesty and humility, mixing and presenting\nthe wine. And when the meal was ended, reverently collected the crumbs,\nwhich she deemed of higher worth than the delicacies of a royal\nbanquet.\u2014Cap. 6.\n\nIn how short a time may prodigious revolutions take place in the\nsentiments of men! This monkish bishop was removed by not more than\nthree or four lives from the Apostle John! And this humble empress\noccupied the honors which, within the memory of the existing generation,\nhad been sustained by the mother of Galerius! It should be added, that\nthe auditor of the story above related, shocked at the inconsistency of\nSt. Martin in thus admitting the offices of a woman so near his devoted\nperson, requires from the narrator an explanation; who, in reply,\nreminds his friend, that the compliance of the bishop with the\nsolicitations of the emperor and empress was the price by which he\nobtained, from the former, release and grace for the persecuted\nPriscillianists. The best thing, by far, related of the bishop of Tours,\nis his firmness in opposing persecution. There is great reason to\nbelieve that, in common with several of the most noted characters of\nchurch history, his true reputation has been immensely injured by the\nill-judging zeal of his biographer.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe life of St. Anthony, by the pious and respectable Athanasius, would\nalone afford ample proof of the assertion, that, even in the third\ncentury, the spirit of fanaticism, and the practices of religious\nknavery, had reached a height scarcely surpassed at any later period.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe first Christian monks followed the Essenes in this particular also,\nthat they despised human science; and it was not until learning had been\ndriven from among secular persons, that it took refuge in monasteries.\nIf the monks had avoided the infection of the philosophy, \"falsely so\ncalled,\" which the Platonists brought into the church, and instead, had\ngiven their leisure to the toils of biblical learning, they would not so\nsoon and so completely have spoiled Christianity.\n\nSulpitius affords abundant illustration of the topics adverted to in\nthis section. Perhaps, within so small a compass, the principles and\npractices of the ancient monachism are nowhere else so fully brought\ninto view, as in his Dialogues and Epistles. He may properly be quoted\nin the present instance. Postumianus, lately returned from the east,\nthat is to say, from Egypt, Arabia, and Palestine, describes to his\nastonished brethren of a monastery in Gaul, the abstemiousness the\noriental monks, as well as their piety and marvellous exploits. (On his\noutward voyage Postumianus had gone ashore at Carthage to visit the\nspots dedicated to the saints; especially\u2014ad sepulchrum Cypriani\nMartyris adorare.) His first specimen of a monkish dinner, in the\noriental style, was the being invited to partake, with four others, of\nhalf a barley cake; to which was added a handful of a certain sweet\nherb, altogether deemed to be\u2014prandium locupletissimum. Sulpitius hence\ntakes occasion to joke a brother, who was present, upon their own\ncomparative appetites; but he replies that it was extremely unkind to\nurge upon _Gauls_ a manner of living proper only to angels. Hearty\neating, says he, in a Greek, is gluttony; but in a Gaul\u2014nature.\n\n\nSECTION IX.\n\nThe dictates of good sense are often curiously intermingled in the\nwritings of the fathers with the defence of the absurd system they\nespoused. The incongruous mixture, has it not been of frequent\noccurrence in every age? Cyril of Jerusalem, in the fourth of his\nCatechetical Discourses, and in the section \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03b9 \u03c3\u03c9\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2, with great\nvigor and propriety urges the consideration referred to above, while\nreprehending those, in his time, who affected to despise and maltreat\nthe body. \"Is not the body,\" says he, \"the excellent workmanship of\nGod?\" and he reminds the ascetic that it is the soul, not the body, that\nsins. He goes on, in a lively manner, to hold forth the mean of wisdom\nbetween opposite extremes; and while he much commends the monkish\ncelibacy, nevertheless bestows upon matrimony its due praise. The\nfathers, by appropriating the words _continence_, _chastity_,\n_temperance_, _virtue_, to the monastic life, robbed the Christian\ncommunity of that standard of morals which belongs to all. Our Lord and\nhis apostles enjoined purity, and continence, and temperance, and\nheavenly-mindedness, upon Christians universally, married and unmarried,\nengaged or not engaged, in the affairs of common life. But the monks\nshuddered to talk of purity and celibacy as if separable. What part then\ncould the married claim in the practical portions of Scripture? These\nholy precepts were the property of the _elect of Christ_, that is, of\nthe monks. Such are the consequences of extravagance in religion!\n\nThe story of Symeon Stylites, told by Theodoret, has been often\nrepented. The well-attested exploits of the fakirs of India render this,\nand many similar accounts related by the same writer, by Gregory Nyssen,\nSozomen, &c., perfectly credible in all but a few of the particulars;\nand in these it is evident that the writers were imposed upon. The fasts\nprofessed to have been undergone by Symeon, by Anthony, and by others of\ntho same class, most certainly surpass the powers of human nature; and\nmust be held either to convict those monks and their accomplices of\nfraud, or their biographers of falsehood.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIgnatius must be held to have set an example of unhappy consequence to\nthe church. His ardor for martyrdom, though unquestionably connected\nwith genuine and exalted piety, was altogether unwarranted by apostolic\nprecept or example, and stands in the strongest contrast imaginable with\nthe manner of Paul, when placed in similar circumstances, whose calm,\nmanly, and spirited defence of his life, liberty, and civic immunities,\non every occasion, imparts the highest possible argumentative value to\nhis sufferings in the cause of Christianity. Let it be imagined that\nIgnatius had acquitted himself in the same spirit; had pleaded with\nTrajan for his life, on the grounds of universal justice, and Roman law;\nhad established his innocence of any crime known to the law; and had\nthen professed distinctly the reasons of his Christian profession; and\nat the same time calmly declared his determination to die rather than\ndeny his convictions. How precious a document would have been the\nnarrative of such a martyrdom! There can be no doubt that many such\nmartyrdoms actually took place; but they were less to the taste of the\nchurch historians of the third and fourth centuries than those that were\nmade conspicuous by an ostentation of eagerness to die. The First\nEpistle of Peter holds forth the principle and temper of Christian\nsubmission under persecution with a dignity, calmness, pathos, good\nsense, and a perfect freedom from fanatical excitement, which, if no\nother document of our faith were extant, would fully carry the proof of\nthe truth of Christianity.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nNo serious consideration need be given to those miraculous narratives\nwhich exist only in biographies composed in a turgid style of laudatory\nexaggeration, and not published, or not fairly and fully published, till\nlong after the deaths of the operator, and of the witnesses. An instance\nprecisely in point is the life of Gregory of Neoc\u00e6sarea, by Gregory\nNyssen: another of like kind has also been frequently quoted\u2014the life of\nSt. Martin, by Sulpitius Severus: the life of Cyprian, by his Deacon\nPontius, might be included; as well as that of St. Anthony, by\nAthanasius. In passing, it may be observed that a perusal of the\nlast-mentioned tract, which fills only same fifty pages, would convey a\nmore exact and vivid idea of the state and style of religion in the\nfourth century, than is to be obtained by reading volumes of modern\ncompilations of church history. At once the piety and the strong sense\nof the writer, and the extraordinary character of the narrative, give it\na peculiar claim to attention. Let the intelligent reader of this\ncurious document take the occasion to estimate the value and amount of\nthe information that is to be received from modern writers\u2014even the best\nof them, such as Mosheim and Milner, for example, of whom the first\ngives the mere husk of church history, and the other only some separated\nparticles of pure farina. But can we in either of these methods obtain\nthe solid and safe instruction which a true knowledge of human character\nand conduct should convey? It may be very edifying to read page after\npage of picked sentiments of piety; but do these culled portions, which\nactually belie the mass whence they are taken, communicate what an\nintelligent reader of history looks for\u2014namely, a real picture and image\nof mankind in past ages? Certainly not. If nothing be wanted but\npleasing expressions of Christian feeling, there can no need to make a\npainful search for them in the bulky tomes of the Greek and Latin\nfathers. Nevertheless, with all its defects, Milner's Church History is\none of the best that has been compiled. A modern reader, led astray by\nthe malign falsifications of Gibbon, and very partially informed of\nfacts by church historians, has no means of correctly estimating the\nstate of Christianity in remote times; or none but that of examining for\n\n\n\n\n      *      *      *      *      *      *\n\n\n\n\nTranscriber's note:\n\nApparent typographical errors have been corrected.","title":"Natural History of Enthusiasm","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":76099}