Dilft Me Mie of the V6 ee a vA the Cheologicns a” ‘ Sen, PRINCETON, N. J. Presented by Pv, Cameron, PhD. AOE” Se aa Lonetogate ae ay 8. ltP * > ee od ’ ) EES he ‘Lp N THE LOST @AMHR Wu « <2apicn, seu AND DIFFICULTIES OF THE BIBLE AS TESTED BY THE LAWS OF EVIDENCE, BY Y..&: GHLEDS,-D oie PHILADELPHIA ; PRESBYTERIAN BOARD OF PUBLICATION AND SABBATH-SCHOOL WORK, No. 1334 CHESTNUT STREET COPYRIGHT, 1888, BY THE TRUSTEES OF THE PRESBYTERIAN BOARD OF PUBLICATION ‘ AND SABBATH-SCHOOL WORK. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Westcott & THOMSON, Stereotypers and Electrotypers, Philada. SoME of the most pathetic cases of the spirit- ual unrest and skepticism of the day are found among the children of Christian parents. They have been brought up to believe the Bible, but under the influences that have met them as they have gone out from the old home into the world their early faith has been shaken, and not unfre- quently destroyed. To such as these, and, beyond these, to all who have come to believe that our age has passed beyond the Bible, it is hoped that the incidents and arguments of this little book may be of service. WasuHineTon, D. C., June, 1888. Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2022 with funding from Princeton Theological Seminary Library https://archive.org/details/lostfaithanddiffoOchil THE LOST FAITH. GEL. LOST - BAT et. LETTER I. My DEAR C me on the subject of your last letter. I appreciate : It is useless for you to write to your motives, but with me the question is settled. I have given up the beliefs of my childhood ; they had long been a burden to me, and the writings and lectures of Mr. heard him? Can he be fairly answered? I am did the rest. Have you not, indeed, as confident as he is that there is no personal God, though I do not believe it can be proved, and I entirely agree with him in abhor- ring and rejecting the doctrine of future suffering. This was the horrible nightmare of my childhood, and you cannot conceive the relief that the rejec- 7 8 THE LOST FAITH. tion of the doctrine has given me. I am frank to say, from my own experience and that of others, that this is the point that gives Mr. his hold on so many. The doctrine of endless suffering for the sins of this life is abhorrent to them, and they ,welcome his views almost as a first truth of reason. This, at least, is my position. The existence of God cannot be proved, nor can any immortality for man except in the influence he may leave be- hind him. But a truce to this. Come to me soon if you are not afraid of my “infidelity,” and let us live over the days of our boyhood. Most of the dear old friends are gone; we are nearly alone, and I am not inclined to drop the last links of brighter, and perhaps better, days than these now upon us. Yours, truly, A My Dear A deeply. Yes, we are almost alone. Of all the : Your letter has moved me dear group that used to gather in the old school- THE LOST FAITH. g house, and play upon the common, and stroll along the river-banks in summer and skate upon its solid surface in winter, you and I are nearly all that remain. The Southern sea has poor H : W other name, I think) with Custer’s band in the and § their honors, and were buried with them, on the battlefield ; K The rest are scattered. The old homes are all , the leader of our sports, fell (under an- wild tragedy of Montana; B won lives a wreck in mind and body. changed ; the inmates are gone from them for ever. And you are changed. No recollections of the past that your letter has called up have impressed me more sadly than the change you speak of in yourself. You have lost the faith of your child- hood. It is true you do not speak of it as a loss: you think you have gained by it. Your early beliefs oppressed you, and you have escaped the burden by rejecting belief in God and in a future life. Let me claim the liberty of an old friend—it 10 THE LOST FAITH. may be for the last time, for we shall soon both be away--and ask if you are sure of your ground. The questions are too momentous, the interests involved are too great and too lasting, to be risked on an uncertainty. You are not, indeed, sure that there is no God, but you are sure that no man can prove that there is; and you are equally certain that there can be no future state of suffering for any. Your final conclusions you have reached through the influence of Mr. , and you admit that his hold on you and on others has come largely through his passionate denials of the doctrine of future retribution. I have no doubt this is so. But, after all, is this decisive? Are Mr. s doubts and denials more to be relied on than the positive beliefs of as intelligent and good men as the world has ever seen? I do not press this as proof one way or the other, but it is something worth thinking of before | you give up for ever your respect for Christianity and the Bible. THE LOST FAITH. Ve Your letter has called up memories that will not down at the bidding. You remember your mother; you remember her life; you remember her death. The day after her burial we were sit- ting, you and I, under the old willow on the bank of the river—it is all before me now—and you told me how she died with her hand on your head, and how before she died you promised to meet her again. Was it alla delusion? Did she go out in final darkness? And was your promise the folly of childhood ? Will you bear with me if I recall another and a later scene? The days of childhood were behind us. We had drifted apart. You remained among the old home-scenes; I was making my way among strangers. Then one went from you who had be- come dearer to you than a mother. I have before me a letter that came to me out of the shadows of that bitter trial; I know you will not misjudge me if I quote its words now. Thus you wrote: “I am sure such a life cannot have ended ; the possi- 12 THE LOST FAITH. bilities of it cannot yet be finished. That soul, with all its sweetness and beauty and brightness, cannot have been quenched like a spark on the ocean... . Her last words were, ‘I go with Him who has brought life and immortality to light, and who has opened the kingdom of heaven ’” I would not recall these early to all believers. views and faiths unkindly. If they were wrong, of course you are right in parting with them; but is it certain they were wrong? And in giving them up have you found something better and more sure to take their place? One important point I presume you have not overlooked: whatever doubts there may be as to the existence of God, atheism can never be proved. No man can ever be sure that there is not a God; he may deny that the proof of divine existence satisfies him, but that is all he can do. Somewhere in the universe, after all, God may be. No man has explored all its recesses; none has pierced its limitless heights; none has threaded all its dark a THE LOST FAITH. 13 abysses and found that in it all there is no God. A man must himself have the attributes of God to know that there is no God. And suppose I cannot prove that there is a God? If I live as if there were one and it should happen that there is not, I am safe; I lose nothing. But if I live as if there were no God and it should come to pass at last that there is, where am I? Of two untraveled paths, it is wisest to take that which is known to be safe. But suppose it to be a question of probabilities. Suppose you have to choose between an endless suc- eession of finite causes, as a man, an oak, a flower, a dewdrop—not one of which is adequate to its own existence—and one infinite, eternal self-ex- istent, almighty and allwise Cause of all things (and some such choice sooner or later you must make), which is the better? Which is the more reasonable? If you think through these questions at all, either you must at last admit a God or you must make something for yourself that will do the 14 THE LOST FAITH. work of God; and the God you make must do what actually is done now; what he will do here- after, who can say? Your friend, Mr. , tells you that “all there is is all the God there is”— that “the universe is all there is or was or will be.’’ This is pantheistic atheism; it is a mere assertion without a particle of proof; and if true, it can give us no relief for the future, as I hope to satisfy you. By the side of this utterance of Mr. put the words of that king in the realm of science, let me Professor Joseph Henry. They are found in the last letter that he ever wrote, and may be taken as the final summing up of all those vast researches that have made his name the heritage of the world. They are entitled to some weight as against the statements of men who, if they can follow in his footsteps at all, must follow afar off. These are his words: “ After all our speculations and an attempt to grapple with the problem of the universe, the simplest conception which explains and connects THE LOST FAITH. 15 the phenomena is that of the existence of one spiritual Being infinite in wisdom, in power and all divine perfections.” That is, the simplest and the best explanation of the facts of the universe is found in the existence of God. This is testimony accepted by the highest scientific authority both in this country and in Europe. I do not say that it proves there is a God, but it does prove that belief in God is consistent with the highest intellectual power. ‘To disbelieve is no proof of a great mind. Mr. greatest and best men of his age—a man “whose eulogizes Thomas Paine as one of the writings carry conviction to the dullest.” Now, Paine, though a bitter enough infidel, as we all know, never so parted from his reason or his rever- ence as to deny the existence of God. He says with a force that, according to Mr. » must “carry conviction to the dullest :’ “I know I did not make myself, and yet I have existence; and by searching into the nature of other things I find no other thing could make itself, and yet millions of 16 THE LOST FAITH. other things exist ; therefore it is that I know by positive conclusions resulting from this search that there is a power superior to all these things, and that power is God.” Paine believed in God; he believed in a future life; he believed in the per- son of Christ, of whom Mr. so far takes leave of all historic judgment, and even of all respect- able infidel judgments, as to say we do not know that he ever existed ! This suggests a word in regard to your questions whether I have heard Mr. -and whether he can be fairly answered. I have never heard him on the subjects of which you speak, but I have read enough, I think, to judge him fairly. I rec- ognize his brilliant gifts, his wit, his rhetorical power, but I am surprised that one of your natural clearness of mind should not see that he deals most unfairly with the questions of religion. His representation of Christianity is a caricature, and it takes great charity not to believe it is an mtentional caricature. His treatment of the Script- THE LOST FAITH. 17 ures is inexcusably unfair. If a Christian were to deal with an infidel book as Mr. deals with the Bible, there would be no bound to the charges of outrageous misrepresentation and perversion. His abuse of Christians and Christianity is often more like the raving of a madman than like the calm judgment of a fair-minded reasoner. What are we to think of a man who can sit down and deliberately write and send out to the world such words as these ?—“ Hundreds, and thousands, and millions, have lost their reason in contemplat- ing the monstrous falsehoods of Christianity ;” “‘Nine-tenths of the people in the penitentiaries are believers ;” “The orthodox Christian says that if he can only save his little soul, if he can barely squeeze into heaven,... it matters not to him what becomes of brother or sister, father or mother, wife or child. He is willing that they should burn if he can sing.” This is enough. But what shall finds imperfections in the Church; suppose he finds a 2 be said of such ravings? Suppose Mr. 18 THE LOST FAITH. multitude of professed Christians that are not what they should be, just as Christ has given us reason to expect,—does that settle the real nature of Chris- tianity? Suppose “ nine-tenths of the people in the penitentiaries” were American citizens,—does that prove that American citizenship is a bad thing or make it worth while for a man to spend his life in denouncing our Constitution? Mr. knows there is a very different kind of citizen, and he knows that these men are in the penitentiary, not because they have kept the laws of their country, but because they have broken them. So, even if the monstrous assertion were true that nine-tenths of the occupants of the penitentiaries are Chris- tian professors, they are there, not on account of Christianity, but in spite of it. True Christianity never sent them there, and every honest man knows that. Christianity is founded on Christ, and the required fruit of it is holiness, rectitude with man and purity before God. This is a fact that any man who wants to know the truth can understand THE LOST FAITH. 19 by an hour’s study of the teachings of Christ and his apostles, To your question whether Mr. can be an- swered, I say deliberately he.has been answered a hundred times. I do not think that in all his assaults on the Bible he has advanced a respectable argument or objection that has not been urged and answered again and again long before he was born. The Christian Church has not the least fear for herself from his attacks ; indeed, she understands them so well, and has repelled them so often, that she is perhaps too indifferent to anything he may say. The danger is not to the Church, but to those who want to be convinced that the Bible is not true, and who want to be assured that, however they may live in this life, they have nothing to fear in a life to come. Indulge me in another letter, and believe me Yours, truly, C 1 Dye) Wid 0 Oh oped UB My Dear A upon every mind, and that Mr. : The two questions that press has shown again and again, with wonderful pathos, by dying beds and at open graves, are pressing upon his, are these: Is there a God? Is there a future state of existence? To these questions the best answer Mr. seems confident that there is no personal God, and has to give is, “ We do not know.” He “sve cannot say whether death is a wall or a door, the beginning or the end of a day, the spreading of pinions to soar or the folding for ever of wings, the rise or the set of a sun.” With all this uncertainty, he is absolutely sure that there is no future state of suffering for evil-doers. He does not know whether there is any future at all, but he does know that there is no future of sorrow. He is profoundly 20 THE LOST FAITH. 21 ignorant as to the fact of a future, but has decisive knowledge as to the nature of the future, if there is one. “ Rather than that this doctrine of endless punishment should be true,” he says, “I would gladly see the fabric of our civilization, crumbling, fall to unmeaning chaos and to formless dust, where oblivion broods and even memory forgets.” has this preference, yet this does not’ settle the case. We Now, it may be quite true that Mr. can fully understand how any man should shrink from the terrible possibility of future suffering. Orthodoxy has no more delight in it than has in- fidelity. But it is not a question of preference : it is a question of fact; and the point I submit for your reflection is this—whether Mr. , on his own ground, is authorized to affirm that there is no future state of suffering for any. He says we do not know whether there is any future state. Very well. Then, certainly, we do not know what kind of a future state there may be, if there is one. If Mr. is not able to assure us that there is no | 22 THE LOST FAITH. future for us at all, he surely has not the ground to assure us of any kind of a future, good or bad. There may be a future of joy, there may be a future of suffering ; there may be both. Mr. is too good a lawyer to undertake to prove any- thing by mere negative evidence. He “leaves the dead with Nature, the mother of all,” and ‘ Na- ture,” as to any sure utterance upon the future, is as silent as are the lips of the dead themselves. Mr. You are not sure whether there is one or not. does not believe in a personal God. There may be; there may be none. If there is, we cannot know it. Let us see what we gain on either supposition. Suppose there is a God, though I cannot know it or I cannot know him. Then, clearly, I cannot know what he is; I cannot know what he may do. It is quite possible that this unknown God may be a God who hates what we call sin, and who will punish it, and who will punish it just as long as it stands an offence in the moral universe, whether it THE LOST FAITH. 23 be in this world or in the world to come. No agnosticism can deny this conclusion. The darkest as well as the most radiant scenes that Christian faith brings within our view may be eternally true. I may be immortal, and it may be an immortality of joy or of sighing for me as I use this life and the truth that God has made known to me in this life. Let us take the other hypothesis. Suppose there is no God; suppose Mr. has satisfied me that there is no supernatural revelation, and no personal God to make one. Has he made it well for me hereafter? Has he delivered me from all fear for the future? Has he saved me beyond question from “the serpent of eternal pain”? IEf there is no God, does that make it certain that there will be no future suffering for any man? Let us see. We are here in a world of suffering. How came we here? and how did suffering come here? If we came without a God, who will prove that without a God we may not go elsewhere, and that 24 THE LOST FAITH. suffering may not go with us? Here we are—by natural law, by evolution, by chance—as part and particle of the one eternal unity ; however it may be, we are here, and we suffer. We know what pain of body and pain of mind are. We have felt the sting of death, and no law of nature, no power of evolution, has ever lighted up for us the dark- ness of the grave. Now, the question we want answered is this: If “ Nature” has brought us inte this state where there is so much of what we call sin, and so much bound with it that we call suffer- ing, how do we know that the same “Nature” may not continue the same facts hereafter? Nay, what give us that “ Nature” is assurance can Mr. not a power that may in some future frenzy cast us into a state far worse than the present? Is he so far possessed of all the secrets of ‘ Nature” that he knows the time will never come when she may strike us with a force more terrible than any re- tributive judgment of God? If “ Nature” works now in storm and fire, in earthquake and pestilence, THE LOST FAITH. 25 in disease and torture and death, in the sorrows of memory, the horrors of remorse and dread fore- bodings of coming woe, how do you know that she may not manifest herself thus hereafter and through the ages to come? If Nature is, as Mr. _ us all, there are times when she manifests her says, the mother of motherhood appallingly. And when are these manifestations to end and how are they to end? If under her regal sway we find that, as a fact, sin and suffering are connected here, can any ‘man prove that it may not be a law of “ Nature” her- self that sin and suffering shall be connected eter- nally? If in the imperial reign of “the mother of us all’? there are chains and scourges, prisons and scaffolds, thunderbolts and flames, cyclones and famines and ocean-grayes, will any man prove that somewhere in the darkness and mystery of the future there may not be, in the long outworking of this reign, something worse than a hell, worse than an undying worm, worse than a quenchless fire ? 26 THE LOST FAITH. It is, I admit, a fearful thing to fall unprepared into the hands of the living God; but if I must choose, give me that, a thousand times, rather than the terrific possibilities that overhang us all if we are to be eternally at the disposal of a blind, inex- orable, soulless, merciless “ Nature.” The Judge of all the earth will do right; at the worst we shall receive no more at his hands than we deserve ; but no created being can tell us what we shall receive at the hands of an irresponsible, pitiless “ Nature” though she be “the mother of us all.” There is nothing so dark and terrible in all the woes of the Bible as the possibilities that Mr. his gospel; and there is this difference: the Bible offers us in opens wide a door of hope for all who care to enter itis be: and leaves us there. Is it worth while for any leads us out into the outer darkness man to spend his life in persuading us to make this exchange of despair? And is it worth our while —yours or mine—to make it? Truly yours, C Pein. LET; My Dear A kindly acknowledge my former communications : In the note in which you you say that, whatever Christianity may be to me, you cannot see it as I do; its excellences, as they appear to my mind, do not impress you at all, and as long as they do not you cannot be expected to accept it. I admit the conclusion: you cannot re- ceive as good and true what does not seem to be so. But does it follow that a thing is not good and true because you do not see it? The question still comes, Is the cause in the thing or in you? You remember the Beethoven concert we once attended together in B ? To you it was an occasion of exquisite enjoyment; to me it was nothing. The difference was not in the music: it was in us. You have a musical taste; I have not. 27 28 THE LOST FAITH. I tried—not very sincerely, perhaps—to persuade you that there was nothing beautiful in it; you smiled, but attempted no argument. You were wise. You knew the music was beautiful, for you had experienced it; you had felt its power. If I chose to deny it because I had not felt it, so it must be ; you could only pity me. Now, is it not possible that there may be some- thing like this in religion? May it not be a reality —a supreme reality—though you do not see it or feel it? May I not know it to be real because I have felt its power? And if there are thousands and tens of thousands as intelligent men and women as the world has ever seen who are as ready to testify that they have felt the power and experi- enced the reality of the Christian religion as you are to testify that you have felt the power and know the sweetness of music, are you wise to dismiss its claims because you have not felt the force of them ? You must see this. I leave it to your candor. Christianity may be true though you have not felt THE LOST FAITH. 29 its truth. A cloud of witnesses stand ready to tes- tify to you its truth from personal experience. They may not argue with you: multitudes of them could not argue with you; but, after all, they have a proof of the reality of their religion, of the power of Christ to satisfy and bless men, which no arguments in the world can shake. If all this were a new thing, or if the witnesses were only ignorant and superstitious men, you might well enough hesitate to receive the testimony ; but when you reflect that it is the accumulated testimony of nearly nineteen centuries, that it comes from all countries and all classes, from the prince on the throne and the beggar at his gate, from the philos- opher in his study and the sailor in the forecastle, from the statesman in the cabinet and the plough- man in the furrow, I submit it cannot with wisdom or reason be set aside. It is no answer to say that many great men and learned men and ploughmen can be brought who have had no such experience and give no such testimony. This is true, but it is ~ 30 THE LOST FAITH. one of the first laws of evidence that no amount of merely negative testimony can overthrow the explicit evidence of honest, intelligent, trustworthy witnesses. Fifty men who did not see a murder could not set aside the clear testimony of two who did see it. Few of the race have ever seen the moons of Mars, or even of Jupiter; this does not disturb the witness of the few who have: the satel- lites are there. I have just been reading—not for the first time —Peter Harvey’s account of his visit, with Daniel Webster, to John Colby. You will find it in Har- vey’s Reminiscences of Webster; and if you have not read it, it is worth your reading. Colby had married Webster’s oldest sister when Webster was a mere boy. It was in some respects a strange marriage. She was a godly, Christian woman, while Colby was a wild, reckless, ungodly man— “the wickedest man in the neighborhood,” Web- ster believed, “as far as swearing and impiety went.” He seems to have been the terror of Web- THE LOST FAITH. al ster’s boyhood. Singularly enough for New Eng- land, though a man of strong natural powers, he never learned to read till he was over eighty years of age. His wife died early, and the families drifted apart. Webster had not seen Colby for over forty years, but he heard that a great change had taken place with him, and he visited him to judge for himself. I should mar the story of the interview if I undertook to condense it. Let me give the essential parts of it in Mr. Harvey’s own words. Long as it is, I think you would be sorry to have it shorter. Webster and Harvey had driven to Andover, and were directed to Mr. Colby’s house. “The door was open. . . . Sitting in the middle of the room was a striking figure who proved to be John Colby. He sat facing the door, in a very comfort- ably furnished farmhouse room, with a little table— or what perhaps would be called a light-stand—be- fore him. Upon it was a large, old-fashioned Scott’s Family Bible in very large print, and, of course, a By THE LOST FAITH. heavy volume. It lay open, and he had evidently been reading it attentively. As we entered he took off his spectacles and laid them upon the page of the book, and looked up at us as we approached, Mr. Webster in front. He was a man, I should think, over six feet in height, and he retained in a wonderful degree his erect and manly form, al- though he was eighty-five or six years old. His frame was that of a once powerful, athletic man. His head was covered with very heavy, thick, bushy hair, and it was as white as wool, which added very much to the picturesqueness of his appearance. As I looked in at the door I thought I never saw a more striking figure. He straightened himself up, but said nothing till just as we appeared at the door, when he greeted us with— “ «Walk in, gentlemen.’ “ Mr. Webster’s first salutation was-— “