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Paistche and rationalism
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FAITH AND RATIONALISM.,
BY THE SAME AUTHOR.
THE SUPERNATURAL ORIGIN OF CHRISTIAN- :
ITY, with Special Reference to the Theories of Renan,
Strauss, and the Tubingen School. New and greatly
enlarged edition. One vol., 8vo., cloth, ee $3.00
DISCUSSIONS IN HISTORY we Bees ise
One vol., 8vo., cloth, yin Bs Tes OONe
THE REFORMATION. One vol., 8vo., cloth, $2.50
THE BEGINNINGS OF CHRISTIANITY, with a
view of the State of cts Roman Migrie at aS Birth of
Christ. S8vo., >< ave e's 00,
THE GROUNDS OF COU es AND CHRISTIAN
BELIEF. 8vo., wa tar Se RAS
(enl= EN fo Ace 2 I2mo., paper, -30
Clothes. 5 4 oo eAO
*,* Sent eeu on fecaipt of price by the publishers,
CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS,
743 & 745 Broadway, New York.
FAITH AND RATIONALISM
WITH
SHORT SUPPLEMENTARY ESSAYS ON
RELATED TOPICS
BY
GEORGE P. FISHER, D.D., LL.D.
PROFESSOR OF ECCLESIASTICAL HISTORY IN YALE COLLEGE
If any man will [i. e., willeth to] do His will, he shall know of the doctrine,
whether it be of God, or whether I speak of myself. JoHNn vu. 17,
NEW AND ENLARGED EDITION.
NEW YORK
CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS
1885
‘
~
4
PHILADELPHIA
GRANT & FAIRES —
BY CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS
COPYRIGHT, 1879, 1885,
is s 2 ‘ A i ; ers
Wuxixos 5€ avOpwros ov SéxeTat Ta TOU mvEevmaTos TOU Beod. pwpla yap a’TYe
€oTt, kal ov dvvaTat yv@vat, OTL mVEVMATLKaS avakpiveTat.—l Cor. ii. 14.
“Howbeit, if we will truly consider it, it is more worthy to believe than
to know as we now know. For in knowledge man’s mind suffers fiom sense
which is the reflection of things material—but in faith the spirit suffers from
spirit which is a worthier agent. Otherwise itis in the state of men glori-
fied, forthenfaith shall cease, and we shall know even as we are known.”
*RE ERK KK
“The use of human reason in matters of religion is of two sorts; the for-
mer in the explanation of the mystery, the latter in the inferences derived
from it. With regard to the explanation of the mysteries, we see that God
vouchsafes to descend to the weakness of our apprehension, by so express-
' ing His mysteries that they may be most sensible tous; and by grafting
His revelations upon the notions and conceptions of our reason; and by ap-
plying His inspirations to open our understandings, as the form of the key
to the ward of the lock. But here we ought by no means to be wanting to
ourselves; for as God uses the help of our reason to illuminate us, so should
we likewise turn it every way, that we may be more capable of receiving and
understanding His mysteries; provided only that the mind be enlarged, ac-
cording to its capacity, to the grandeur of the mysteries, and not the mys-
teries contracted to the narrowness of the mind.” * * * * * * *
“But as the use of the human reason in things divine is of two kinds, so
likewise in the use are two kinds of excess; the one when it inquires too
curiously into the manner of the mystery; the other when the same autho-
rity is attached to inferences as to principles. * * * * * * * Wherefore it
appears to me that it would be of especial use and benefit if a temperate and
careful treatise were instituted, which, as a kind of divine logic, should lay
down proper precepts touching the use of human reason in theology. For
it would act as an opiate, not only to lull to sleep the vanity of curious spe-
culations, wherewith sometimes the schools labor, but also in some degree
to assuage the fury of controversies, wherewith the Church is troubled.
Such a treatise I reckon among the things deficient; and call it Sophron, or
The Legitimate Use of Human Reason in Divine Subjects.” —Bacon, De Augmen-
tis, b. ix.
“Je sais qu’ il a voulu qu’ elles”—les vérités divines—“entrent du coour
dans I’ esprit, et non pas de I’ esprit dans le cceur, pour humilier cette su-
perbe puissance du raisonnement qui prétend devoir étre juge des choses
que la volonté choisit; et pour guérir cette volonté infirme, qui s’ est cor-
rumpue par ses sales attachements. Et de la vient qu’ au lieu qu’ en par-
lant des choses humaines on dit qu’ il faut les connaitre avant que de les
aimer, ce quia passé en proverbe [ignoti nulla cupido]: les saints au con-
traire disent en parlant des choses divines qu’ il faut les aimer pour les
connaitre et qu’ on n’ entre dans la vérité que par la charité, dont ils ont
fait une de leurs plus utiles sentences.”—PascaL, Opuscules (de I’ Art de
Persuader).
PREFACE TO THE NEW EDITION.
In this edition an Introduction and additional remarks
on the Atonement are added, together with a few slight
modifications in forms of statement.
October 7, 1885.
PREPACH
Having been invited to deliver an address at the Princeton
Theological School, I found the theme which I had chosen
so attractive, that I wrote much more than it was possible
to read in the time proper for such a discourse. I wrote,
also, several supplementary essays,—branches, as it were, of
the main stem. It turns out, however, that the branches in
the aggregate take up more room than the stem out of
which they grew. Such is the origin of the present book.
I hardly need add that the hospitality of my brethren at
Princeton does not render them in the least answerable for
its contents.
Gy PS
New Haven, April 14, 1879.
CONE INVES:
Sine
Introduction . : 5 5 ;
e e ® ° ° ° 1
St. Paul on the Limits of our Knowledge in Religion . mare
Characteristics of Faith : . < : é : é di elo
Connection of Faith with Feeling : ‘i i : k ees
Connection of Faith with the Will . 5 : : ALG
Criticism of Locke’s Definition of Faith . . , : : “ 316
Extreme Supernaturalism of the early Socinians . > ¢ eats)
The Characteristic Temper of Rationalism © é 5 5 a0
Rationalism intolerant of Mysteries . : 4 : ; ; 3 eae
What is Meant by a Mysterious Truth oo Se cpinteee Puaabet if 8 28
Mystery not unfavorable to Piety 2 c ; é - £226
Rationalism in conjunction with Orthodox Tenets . : - Be HE
Rationalism overlooks the Influence of Sin upon the Intellect .. 28
Rationalism ignores the Premises of Faith : : eine wn 29
Different Degrees of Vividness in the Perception of Sin Rae UES)
Catholic Nature of the Christian Sense of Guilt and of Sin . Sapo
Tendency of Rationalism to take no account of implicit Reason-
ing . - 5 3 ; : 5 aie A = 3 2 SB)
Tendency of Rationalism to exaggerate the office of Logic in Re-
ligion ; ites - Sees ; Pramas |
Tendency of Rationalism to resolve Christianity into a Doctrine. 36
Rationalism inclined to seek for Knowledge for its own Sake 178%
The True Motive in the Search for Religious Truth sfubet J Bot
Safeguards against Fancy and Enthusiasm F f < ° eee) 40)
The Debatable Ground about a great Religious Truth 42
Limits of Responsibility in meeting Objections to Christian Truth 43
The Sources of our Beliefin God . i 2 y F mn 45
Relation of the Will to Faith in God and in Conscience. . & - 49
1x
°
Ceo ¥, ej 4
* a Piety ; ee ey . 3 F
3 te ocak Sy Sot = pas Ks : ¢
; ot a faerie ETE
° - ‘s : et i “. TANT aa RES
ee, CoS EAD of Corer oe
geitn age AIS ie 4 a
CONTENTS. © 7 5 aete
i Lit ee sags
. es 2 ta, ott
Zs 3 - ai . : PAG
The Sources of Faith ina Future Life . . . . . .
The Mystery.of the ‘Trinity "0/500" Lon Fs GSS nae ae ae
The Problem of Universal Sin and Individual Responsibleness _
“Insufficiency of the Moral View of the Atonement . . .
Reasonablenesss of the Doctrine of the Spirit’s Influence Sh ee
Spiritual Insight requisite in the Interpretation of Scripture . ‘
Contradictory Judgments of Intellectual Men upon Books of the ae
2: NBibles, (23h Ways te ok Se ao ga
Power actually exerted by the Writingsof Paul . . . . «2 266:
Rationalism involved ina priori Views of Scripture . 4. .
Bishop Butler on a priori Ideas respecting Revelation . = Ba :
The Gospels not conformed to a priort Expectations . . ‘
The Authority of Scripture not limited by Personal Insight. .
The Divine and Human Elements in Scripture . c :
The Grand Aim of Christianity an Argument forits Truth . .
APPENDIX.
THE TEACHING OF THEOLOGY ON THE MORAL Basis oF FAITH. ~—
AUSUSUING 9 HE ee ok ht va Vices. WS erie ae Ne nr
Anselm peur eg aes ptiee : 2 A Z emf
Bernard . “ : c : ; ua
Bonaventura. . : . 3 | |
Ugo Si Vietor bh te. che ee ee ee
- Oa vain ee weet f ys es 4 $ i
, E - De Melanchthon’ ec ses Dae eons be eee 3 ae
é Tere ie or she ol oe ew cgcine peta te ee ee ea
Pascal on Yim ede WOE ig inborn ghd ac = ee a
Edwards pty Wai esos 0 eae SRO, a cena nS 2
_ CONTENTS. xi
PAGE
Schleiermacher . ; . ° ° s ; A C : ‘ 08
Recent German Theologians . F sarees c‘ ; iy to
Coleridge . , : 2 : - °93
J.H.Newman , s . ° = ekg!
II.
THE DOCTRINE OF NESCIENCE RESPECTING Gop.
How far “the Infinite” is Knowable . Z : : 5 ome 99
Spencer’s Criticism of Paley’s Illustration . 6 . : «0102
Ly.
THE DOCTRINE OF EVOLUTION IN ITS RELATION TO THE ARGU-
MENT OF DESIGN.
Meaning of Evolution . ; ‘ : haere : ; ‘ . 104
The Relation of Science to Religion . : - : : : . 106
The Alternative of Design or Chance yee : : ; - 108
Necessity of assuming Design ; 3 A F : 5 ; . 109
Natural Selection generates Nothing . : : 3 : : eo
Variation is under Guidance . : : ; - 3 Rea 8 bY
Analogy between Works of Nature and of Art . ; ; J LLG
Theory of “Conditions of Existence” . ; F : ; : PhS
Mind consciously distinct from its Organism. : ; edd
The Intuition of Self completes the Argument of nines : mela
ENE
THE REASONABLENESS OF THE CHRISTIAN DOCTRINE OF PRAYER.
Fundamental Idea of Prayer . ; 2 } : : F ; » 128
Petition not Dictation . : ; : : ; : . 129
Limits to the Proper Sphere of Petition . - ‘ ; : . 180
Means of answering Prayer for Spiritual Good . : ; ; Glo
Our Belief in the Supernatural is subject to Education . : . 133
Theistic View of the Order of Nature . ; : : 3 : . 134
: ‘f Peat me Pe % Ys ina se 0
- ; v Jee! 3 7 ek Bt
“CONTENTS. ea ae
pis mahi},
Nature a Part ofa more ExtensiveSystem . . . ie
Ways of answering Prayer for Physical Changes : ‘
Interposition through the medium of Natural Law .
The Uniformity of Nature and Miracles”. 5
The Proposal to test experimentally the Efficacy of aes
V.
ek JESUS WAS NOT A RELIGIOUS ENTHUSIAST.
Self-scrutiny necessary toChrist . . . 4 5 :
His Sobriety tested by the Ordeal of Suffering . }
His Holiness precludes Self-exaggeration . ¢
ee His Anticipations verified °-. 4)... an se le
Wa:
The Problem of the Atonement . ; 2 é
Examination of the Views of President Edwards .
The Theory of Dr. J. McLeod Campbell :
phe leading Idéas: of Duther) 07.) 12" ee
Exposition of Schleiermacher’s Doctrine . : ‘
The Theory of Rothe . . : ; 14 i eee
Tendencies of Modern Theology on this aac a
Remarks of Canon Mozley . ; & : 5 ae 5
3 . Wits :
THE UNITY OF BELIEF AMONG CHRISTIANS.
Doctrine and the Philosophy of Doctrine . as Ane
Unity in respect to Fundamental Truth . ‘ Ate A
Differences from Ambiguity of Languese : + RED RS
Dnity in Devotion . ; 5 5 5 : 5 E ;
INTRODUCTION.
?
THE call for a new edition of this little volume affords an
opportunity to prefix a few remarks, for the sake of render-
ing its main intent more clear. It is no part of the author’s
design to disparage external evidence, or to set faith in any
relation of antagonism to reason, or to imply that the -
Christian believer has not, or may not have, good reasons to
give for the faith that is in him.
1. We give the name of the Christian Faith to the sum of
beliefs which make up the substance of Christianity in its
objective form. They are set forth in brief in the Apostles’
Creed. They comprise, as we there see, first, what are
termed truths of natural religion; secondly, further truths
of an abstract nature, such as the relation of Christ to God,
which the Gospel Revelation affirms; and thirdly, the main
historical facts of Christianity. We may say in general that
the Christian Faith, objectively considered, includes doc-
trines and facts.
2. Faith subjective is the state or act of mind in which
one lays hold of these truths with an inward assent or trust.
9 : INTRODUCTION.
They are not looked on as things doubtful or fictitious, but
are acknowledged and grasped by the soul as real. —
3. To this internal persuasion and apprehension there are
two impelling forces. Faith is the product of an inward
and an outward factor. There is the mind’s own feeling of ©
its dependence, its conscious spriritual hunger, the various
operations of conscience, and the like, which are antecedent
conditions and impulses from within. There is the address
to the mind from without in the phenomena of nature, and
in all that constitute the arguments for religion, whether
natural or revealed. The distinction is very well stated by
Canon Mozley. God may be conceived of as merely the im-
personation of causes, the Being who simply gives existence
to nature and watches its progress. Or, the mind may go
further and conceive of Him as Moral Governor and Judge,
“keeping mercy for thousands, forgiving iniquity, and trans-
gression and sin, and that will by no means clear the guilty.” *
Add to this statement the remark that which of these con-
ceptions is entertained, depends for the most part on the ac-
tivity of one’s own conscience, or, in general, on one’s moral
and spiritual state. Under the first, as the prevailing con-
ception, there is no room for miracles; under the last, as the
prevailing conception, the historical statements of the New
Testament, into which miracles enter, are quite credible.
Thus an internal element enters into the proof, even of his-
torical Christianity, and alone gives it efficacy. “ External
* Lectures of Miracles, pp. xXiv., XXv.
INTRODUCTION. 3
or historical evidence has an intrinsic defect in it, for the
purpose of full persuasion, standing alone, without this in-
ternal auxiliary, because evidence is, by its very nature, a
double thing, in which an outer part has its complement in
an inner, and both together make the whole thing. Ante-
cedent. probability is a constitutional element of evidence,
_ and external testimony has reasonably a different weight,
according as it comes to us with or without it.”
4. It is important distinctly to remember that as regards
historical Christianity, as well as natural theology, the effect
of the evidence hinges on the presence or absence of certain
primary ideas, perceptions, convictions. Without certain
assumptions of this character, not only does the proof fail of
its effect; that failure, moreover, is legitimate. It is true, as
Mozley avers, that he who rejects the Gospel miracles, “is
reasonable in that rejection,” so long as he approaches the
subject in that state of mind. There is no internal element
to match with the external, and it is both elements, meeting
together, by which the proof is made up.
0. The same able theologian who has just been quoted
has, also, illustrated another of the characteristics of faith,
to which attention is called in the following pages,—namely,
the concern which the will has in it. There are reasons to be
given for faith, or for the propositions which are the object
of faith ; but, in the first place, “the premises of faith are not
so palpable as those of ordinary reason,” real and solid though
they are: reason “depends entirely. on her own insight into
4 INTRODUCTION.
certain grounds, premises and evidences ”; and, secondly,
the conclusion—in the particular case supposed, the existe
ence of God—is of so amazing a nature that it requires trust
to commit one’s self to it. This “principle of trust is faith—
the same principle by which we repose in a witness of good
character who informs us of a marvellous occurrence—so
marvellous that the trust in his testimony has to be sustained
by a certain effort of the reasonable will.” There is no ex-
perimental verification ; hence there is requisite an exertion
of energy on our part in order to accept the issue of the
argument.*
6. The reflex influence of character on the intellect, which
it is one purpose of the following pages to illustrate, is a fact
too plain to be questioned. Affirmations of it without end
might be cited from authors of the most diverse creeds. I
quote a passage from R. W. Emerson. That Mr. Emerson
has been unduly extolled by admiring disciples as a philoso-
pher, or expounder of philosophy—of Plato, for example—
is true. His writings, nevertheless, contain much pithy and
discerning comment on human nature and life. On the
topic before us, he says: “So intimate is this alliance of
mind and heart that talent uniformly sinks with character.
The bias of errors of principle carries away men into perilous
courses as soon as their will does not control their passion or
talent. . . . Hence the remedy for all errors, the cure
of blindness, the cure of crime, is love.” + r
* Page 79. }{ Works, Vol. II., p. 431.
4
Pa
INTRODUCTION. 5
7. In considering this broad subject of the relations of faith
and reason, it is essential to distinguish between the actual
genesis of beliefs and their rational basis. Our religious beliefs
spring out of experiences native to the soul and spontaneous,
—out of the natural activity of the moral and spiritual nature
which God has given us, and the likeness to Himself, and
the affinity to Him, which are inwrought into our being.*
Even John Calvin, in common with profound theologians
of all ages, opens the “ Institutes” with an assertion of the
“sense of a Deity ” which the human mind has by “ natural
instinct,” and the “propensity to religion” which is incor-
porated in human nature.t Now, the immediate activities of
heart and conscience, which constitute the seed and sustain-
ing life of religion, become the object of attention. When we
inquire reflectively into the validity of our religious beliefs, the
very existence of these instinctive sentiments and tendencies
* In a recent work entitled “ Natural Law in the Spiritual World,” these
truths appear to be overlooked. In the chapter on “ Biogenesis,” spiritual
life is considered to be as foreign to man as physical life to inorganic matter,
Spiritual life is made to be a literal creation. This is an over-statement.
The “death” of sin isa death “wherein we walked.” The “life” of the be-
liever in Christ, though dependent on a supernatural source, is a form of the
activity of a moral and religious nature inherent in man (Acts xvii. 22, 28).
Religion is not something imported into the Christian mind,—the addition
of a faculty or attribute not existing (though it be dormant or misdirected)
in the human soul. This over-statement is a fruit of the exaggeration of an
analogy into a law of identity, which is at the basis of this otherwise interest-
ing and suggestive book.
1 ¢ Institutes, B I. ¢. iii. 1, 2.
ee a ee a ae ee ee et Me Re ON OF
GP: INTRODUCTION. : s
forms one important part of the rational defence of the faith that
has grown out of them. This deep peculiarity of our nature
is itself an argument, a testimony of nature to the reality of the
objects answering to it. It is not that “we believe because
we believe;” this is not the true account of the matter; but
because we believe, and are thus moved to believe by principles
of our nature so deeply implanted, we conclude that our
belief is rational, and when we find it, not contradicted, but
corroborated from without, in the whole structure of the
system of things of which we are a part, we are confirmed
and established in the conviction that faith is not illusive.
8. How the judgment respecting religious doctrine and
the claims of Christianity to credence may be altered by the
quickening of conscience, or by the acquiring of a deepened
feeling, is one of the points touched upon in the following
pages. Words, the symbols of thought, mean more or less
according to the degree of life in the conscience and sensi-
bility of him who hears or repeats them. An instructive
illustration of this topic is found in one of the letters of
Carlyle. His biographer is at pains to proclaim Carlyle’s (as
well as his own) disbelief in the miraculous facts of the
Gospel. It-does not appear, however, that either the one or
the other ever studied with any thoroughness the evidences
on which they rest. This is evident even in the case of Mr.
Fronde whenever—for example, in one or more of his short
essays—he deals with the subject. Carlyle retained the sense
of God’s power and reign, which his Scottish birth and
INTRODUCTION. 7
training implanted. He preached sincerity and the ab-
horrence of falsehood, with passionate fervor. But he re-
tained, also, impressions as to historical Christianity which
the early reading of Gibbon may have imprinted on his
mind. It is doubtful, however, whether, notwithstanding the
noble points in his character, there was room left by the
colossal conceit and self-assertion that characterized him, for
the spirit of dependence and humility which are essential in
the Gospel.* Yet it is plain to any considerate reader of his
melancholy Memoir that the lessons which thousands upon
thousands of Christians learn at the Cross were just what he
had need of. The ludicrous, if it were not sad, magnifying
of small ills, and of larger labors and struggles such as a mul-
titude of scholars and authors have patiently and quietly
endured; the thoughtless, but still selfish, negligence of
domestic obligations, that awakened too late in his own bosom
so poignant remorse; the contemptuous, vituperative dis-
paragement of eminent contemporaries (including Coleridge,
who lacked Carlyle’s force of character, but was a poet and
philosopher of larger and more varied gifts, on the whole,
than he),—these glaring defects and faults would not have
remained to provoke the chagrin and disappointment of his
admirers, could he have listened to the invitation: “Come
unto me .. . take my yoke on you . . . learn of
* In no literary biography of our times, with the possible exception of the
Memoirs of Harriet Martineau (an apostie of atheism), does self-esteem
appear in so gigantic dimensions as in the journals and letters of Carlyle.
ey Ls.
8 INTRODUCTION.
me.” But the particular passage to which reference has
been made, is found in a letter of Carlyle to Erskine of
Linlathen, written after the death of Mrs. Carlyle :—
“*Our Father which art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy —
name, Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done,’-—what else can
we say? The other night,in my sleepless tossings about,
which were growing more and more miserable,—these words,
that brief and grand prayer, came strangely into my mind
with an altogether new emphasis, as if written and saiiiee for
me in mild pure splendor, on the black bosom of the night
there; when I, as it were, read them, word by word, with a
sudden check to my imperfect wanderings, with a sudden
softness of composure that was much unexpected. Not for
perhaps thirty or forty years had I ever formally repeated
that prayer,—nay, I never felt before how intensely the voice
of man’s soul it is; the inmost aspiration of all that is high
and pious in poor human nature; right worthy to be recom-
mended with an, ‘After this manner, pray ye.’” Here this
old man found something in a familiar scripture which he
had never seen there before; or, rather, to use Coleridge’s -
expression, the scripture found him: “these words came
strangely intomy mind . . . asifwritien and shining for
me.”
Was there not much more in the teachings of Jesus
which Carlyle had failed to discern? Was there not in the
character, as well asin the words of Christ, and in his whole
personality, a unique peculiarity, an excellence and loftiness,
which it only required the right mood of mind in him to
Pe epee ae ee ee Se
EL ae Pe ee, ee a MD ae aah
INTRODUCTION. og
recognize? Bereaved and wretched with a sorrow not un-
mingled with remorse, he saw something that he had never
seen before. And what was the effect? “A sudden softness
of composure,” a check to “imperfect wanderings.” Strange
_ power in that prayer of Jesus to chasten, subdue, comfort! *
* We find the wife of Carlyle, under the pressure of physical distress,
writing to him these moving words: “Oh dear! you cannot help me, though
you would! Nobody can help me! Only God: and can I wonder if God take
no heed of me when IJ have all my life taken so little heed of him?” “They
that are whole need not a physician”; but it is a relief to find in those
worthy, on many accounts, of honor and esteem, a conviction of this need
developing itself. under calamity, and impelling them at last towards the
source of help. :
In another recent biography—“ George Eliot’s Life,’—there is a touching
story of the struggle between the heart on one side and the imaginary
teachings of science on the other. George Eliot, “with her pale, sickly face
and dreadful headaches,” is toiling over her translation of Strauss. She is
reported as saying that “she is Strauss-sick—it makes her ill dissecting the
story of the Crucifixion, and only the sight of the Christ image and picture
» make her endure it.” “This was an ivory image she had of the Crucified
Christ over the desk in her study at Foleshill, where she did all her work
at that time.” Yet Strauss’s “dissection” is admitted by discerning scholars
of every school to be a sophistical juggle. His method then, in Germany,
was deemed even by Baur fallacious and untenable. Yet here Miss Evans,
with her restless mind, and subservience to the personal influence of the
circle about her, gives up her faith, and apparently yields assent to so base-
less a theory as that of Charles Hennell that the Gospel was derived from
Essenism. In the “evangelicai period,” or phase, through which George
Eliot passed, the faith of the Gospel struck no deep roots in her nature, Her
religious expressions at that time are, no doubt, sincere, but they are arti-
ficial. With her restlessness of mind, her susceptibility to personal in-
fluence, in the absence of a corresponding depth and activity of conscience,
she surrendered easily to the sway of the intellectual sceptics and disbe-
lievers in whose society she found herself. One looks in vain in her letters
for the traces of either a just appreciation or a thorough investigation of the
peculiar and exceptional claims of Christianity.
FAITH AND RATIONALISM.
GENTLEMEN OF THE THEOLOGICAL SCHOOL:
I thank you for the opportunity given me to speak
to you to-night. You have invited to address you one
who can claim to represent no party or school in
theology, but who feels himself drawn with an in-
creasing conviction to the catholic truth which has
_been the life of Christian piety in all ages of the
Church. You will not expect me to traverse the old
ground where our fathers crossed their lances in times
gone by. Nor will you prefer that I should retreat to
some scholarly theme, not more pertinent at one time
than at another, and remote from the questions that
command the attention of thinking men at present..
Relying on your candor, I choose rather to express
frankly my thoughts in connection with a subject,
which, though never void of interest, is, in our day,
of special concern,—the Ascertainment of Religious
Truth ; or, to state it otherwise, Farru anp Ratton-
ALISM.
11
12 FAITH AND RATIONALISM.
~
Those who are inclined to chafe at the narrow :
bounds and indistinct nature of our knowledge in
religion, may remember for their comfort that the
Apostle Paul, though conscious of being an organ of ee }
divine revelation, places himself in the same category — ~
with themselves. ‘‘ We know in part,” he says: “ We
see through a glass darkly.” It was not a complete
view, but a fragmentary one that he had of divine
truth; as when you look off to a mountain that is
partly hidden under clouds. You follow its outline
for a certain distance, and then it is lost in the mist.
A peak, here and there, emerges in the sunlight, but
its connection with the mass below is broken off. And
the perception even of what the Apostle did know had
a certain obscurity attending it. It was not a behold-
ing of the object itself directly. It was only a faint
image that was discerned, like that reflected from a
dim metallic mirror of the sort used in his time. The —
language in which we utter religious thought, and the
conceptions at the basis of it, are declared by him to
be the lispings of a child, compared with the words
and ideas that belong to mature manhood. They
answer for the infant, but in course of time they are
superseded by something more conformed to the
reality. Yet, the boundaries that are set about our
knowledge during our life on earth, and the immensity
of the realm of the unknown that stretches away
CHARACTERISTIOS OF FAITH. 13
beyond our ken, afford not the least warrant for
scepticism with respect to anything actually dis-
covered. It did not subtract a jot from the confidence
of Paul in that truth which had been disclosed to him.
It has been well said by Paley that “true fortitude of
understanding consists in not suffering what we do
know to be disturbed by what we do not know.” * He
who despairs of knowing a little, because he cannot
know all, may be compared to one who is so bewil- —
dered by the thought of the vast amount of pain,
and sorrow in the world, which it is beyond his power
to relieve, that he does not think it worth while to
stretch out his hand to the one or two sufferers within
his reach.
I shall not undertake here to give an exhaustive
definition of religious faith, but simply to point out
some of its characteristics.
Faith is not sight: it has respect to things not seen.
Nor is there an internal organ of vision, corresponding
to the eye, which literally gazes upon things invisible
to sense. For such an immediate perception of the
supernatural world, a miracle is requisite. Faith is
the prelude,—possibly, in some way, it is the rudi-
ment, of sight. It serves in the room of sight, on the
present stage of our being; but sight itself is to
follow (1 Cor. xiii. 12). “Faith,,” says Augustine,
s * Natural Theology, Ch. v.
jt) a ee ae Bn ee ee
¥ *
re ne ge orn tate ne prorat
14 FAITH AND RATIONALISM.
“is to believe what we do not yet see; and the reward = 3
of this faith is to see what we believe: **. Oi
as another deep-thinking writer has expressed it:
“The very perfection and final bliss of the glori-
fied spirit is represented by the Apostle as a 3
plain aspect or intuitive beholding of truth in its
eternal and immutable source.” { Faith is opposed,
for one thing, to the assent produced by logical demon--
stration, where the outcome 1s knowledge. Faith, :
however, need not involve any doubt or misgivings.
In fact, though it may exist in different degrees of
energy, may be strong or weak, the word naturally —
suggests the absence of doubt, or an inward certitude.
One of the disputed questions about faith is whether it
be an immediate act of the mind, or the product of in-
ference. Is there always a process of reasoning, em-
bracing, at the least, one step? Pascal is one of the
writers who has compared faith to the intuitions of
number, space, time, etc. We have to start wita an
act of trust in our faculties; we cannot prove the
axioms which are the premises of all proof. Pascal's
statement is valid against the logical fanaticism which ss
scorns to take anything upon trust. If it were the
case that the assent given in faith is immediate, such
assent could not, merely on that ground, be branded
as credulity. Let the point be decided as it may, still
* Sermo xliii. + Coleridge (Shedd’s ed.,) Vol. 1. p. 449.
FAITH AND FEELING. 15
not even the primary truths of religion are to be
placed in the catalogue of these axioms of the in-
tellect,—for example, the properties of number and
space—which all sound minds of necessity assume to
be true. The grand peculiarity of religious faith is
the part which the heart plays in it. Although an act
of reason, if reason be taken in the broad sense,
and, therefore, capable of a rational vindication,
faith, nevertheless, depends on character, and it
withers away when the feelings in which it has its
root disappear. Faith is subjective to this extent,
that its grounds are not appreciable by every mind,
by the good and evil alike. A living faith is not
connected with any particular grade of intellectual.
power. ‘The early Christians were many of them
_ slaves; they were generally of the lower class; they
could not spell correctly, as we see by the epitaphs in
the catacombs. Most believers of whatever age know
little or nothing of historical evidences. They cannot
tell whether Justin Martyr quotes the Gospels of the
canon. ‘They cannot answer the objections of learned
infidels to natural or revealed religion. Yet it is far
from being true that their faith is the mere result of
tradition and education. It may be the natural,
legitimate offspring of impressions of feeling, which
the universe within and around them, and the Christ
of the Scriptures, have made upon their souls. Before
16 FAITH AND RATIONALISM.
their faith can be denounced as irrational, the sponta-
neous feelings at the root of it'must be shown to be
abnormal. This leads me to say that however we
may decide the question whether faith is immediate or
inferential, this is certain that it need not arise
through any explicit process, of the several steps of
which the believer takes account. Let me add one
thing more. Into the deepest exercise of faith, the
will enters. Trust is an act; I might say, a venture.
So it is when we believe in Christ. As He identified
Himself with us, we identify ourselves with Him.
This is the great secret of the Gospel. Because the
will turns the scale to the one side or the other,
atheism, and disbelief in the Gospel, are treated in
the Bible as sins. A demand is made upon men to
believe. Who ever commanded another to believe
that two and two are four, or to accept the doctrine of —
free-trade, or the nebular hypothesis ?
No writer has had more influence in forming opinion
on this subject, in English-speaking communities, than
Locke. He defines faith to be assent to any proposi-
tion, which is not made out by deductions of reason,
‘upon the credit of the proposer, as coming from God,
in some extraordinary way of communication.” You
believe on the authority of a witness, having first
established by proof his credibility. On this definition
LOCKE'S IDEA OF FAITH. 17
the criticism might be made that it limits faith to the
eredence of propositions or doctrines; trust in persons,
in any other capacity than as witnesses, not being
expressly included. Augustine and the schoolmen,
whose general notion of faith was a more satisfactory
one, do not always keep clear of the same error. An-
other exception to be taken to Locke’s view is that it
makes no room for the truths of natural religion ; for
example, that “ things which are seen were not made of
things which do appear ’’—truths, nevertheless, which
are proper objects of faith: Moreover, how is the
prior fact of the credibility of the divine messengers
to be established? No doubt, faith embraces a belief
in the testimony of God. But how shall we assure
ourselves that we have that testimony? What are
the data on the basis of which the mind advances to
this conclusion? Certainly, they are not such as avail
_ to convince all. Many historical inquirers are found
to disbelieve, who ordinarily are chargeable with no
special want of discrimination or of candor. Shall we
not have to consider the contents of the testimony, to
inquire whether any communication is likely to come
to us from God, and whether the doctrine delivered
bears in it marks of truth, and of having so high and —
pure an origin? Have we any need of a revelation?
These and other preliminary questions may, perhaps,
be answered differently by different persons, and so
18 FAITH AND RATIONALISM.
there fails to be an agreement as to the data on which
assent or denial must depend. In the ordinary affairs
of life, we make up our minds under the influence of
multiform impressions, which are often’ subtle, not
easy to be analyzed by ourselves, and which are by
no means the same in all individuals. These impres-
sions have each of them a certain power to induce a
judgment one way or the other. The verdict of the
mind is the result of their collective action. Locke’s
defect is, not so much in what he says, as in what he
fails to say, on this topic. He was a lover of truth,
an honest man; but we miss in him a certain depth
and intensity of moral and religious feeling, which
belong to profound teachers upon the philosophy of
religion, like Augustine, Pascal, Luther, Coleridge,
Edwards. Hence his Socinian proclivities, and the
circumstance that he became an oracle of that class.
It was the same in politics; his theory of the social
compact is a piece of Rationalism. He founds the
obligations of civil society on the voluntary agreement
of the individuals that compose it. How much pro-
founder the philosophy which finds in society “a pre-
disposed order of things,” to use the phrase of Burke,
with which the will of every rational being is supposed
to agree; that philosophy which recognizes in the
state, as in the family, an object about which deep
instincts of humanity entwine themselves, prior to all
THE EARLY SOOINIANS. 19
scientific analysis! The real drift of Locke’s political
theory comes out in the Contrat Social of Rousseau.
It has been well described as a kind of adventurous
courage in Paley, whose mental power was less than
that of Locke, but whose general tone of feeling was
similar, to go forth against the opponents of Chris-
tianity, demanding of them no concession except that
a revelation of a future state of rewards and punish-
ments “is not improbable, or not improbable in any
great degree.”* But this admission, which is all that
Paley calls for in his “ Preparatory Considerations,”
does not suffice, in point of fact, in numerous instances,
to impart a convincing efficacy to his argument, not-
withstanding the masterly skill and unrivaled perspi-
cuity with which he has presented it.
It is a curious and instructive fact that the founders
of modern Socinianism were extreme supernaturalists.
Their tendency was to attribute our knowledge of re-
ligion almost exclusively to Revelation, and to make
the one proof of Revelation miracles. Some of the
_ Socinian leaders in Poland found no valid evidence of
the being of God except in Scripture. The fact of a
future life was made to rest, in the same way, wholly
on the testimony of the Bible. On this theory, we
become acquainted with religion as we learn the exist-
* Paley’s Evidences, “ Preparatory Considerations.”
20 FAITH AND RATIONALISM.
ence and geographical features of an unknown conti-— &
nent, by no other means than through information
brought to us by a credible traveler. The principle
of authority, which has its rightful place among the
bases of belief, is made the all in all. Religion is
something imported into the soul by instruction duly
authenticated; not a slumbering life waked up within
us by a supernatural approach. This character of the
old Socinianism shows how extremes meet. There- .
bound to entire disbelief in Reyelation naturally fol-
lowed such a meagre notion of religion and of the
function of Revelation, and the exaltation of miracles
to the exclusion of other proofs of Christianity.
We shall get more light upon the nature of faith if we.
look at its opposite—the temper of Rationalism. Ra-
tionalism is a term often used to designate the position
of those who disbelieve in Revelation, and suppose that
whatever knowledge we have in religion is derived from
unassisted reason. It is applied to such as reject the — 2
miraculous element in Christianity ; for example, to
the Kantian theologians in Germany, whose creed was
made up of three articles; God, free-will, and immor- |
tality, and who cared only for the morals of the Gos-
pel; and to the later Pantheistic Rationalists, the dis-
ciples of Hegel, who resolved Christianity into a meta-
physical speculation, of which the Gospel history is a
ry a eats 2 "
re at ae age
ays ae te ha 5
RL EY om
:
he
am.
xX Coes
,
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THE RATIONALISTIC SPIRIT. Ot
loose, popular, mythical equivalent. But I speak of
Rationalism now, not as standing for a set of opinions,
but rather as a method or spirit. It is not impossible
that the Rationalistic temper or method should be as-
sociated for the time with orthodox tenets—an unnat-
ural union to be sure, and one that could not last.
Thus in Germany, before Schleiermacher came for-
ward to vindicate for religion an independent founda-
tion inhuman nature, much of the current orthodoxy
was penetrated with a Rationalistic leaven. It was a
verstandes-theologre, to use the term applied to it by
later believing theologians like Tholuck and Neander.
I think that I am not unjust in saying that a like
tendency characterized a prominent section of ortho-
dox teachers in New England, before the outbreaking of
- the Unitarian revolt. Jonathan Edwards had a large,
rich nature, deep wells of feeling, a subtle, spiritual in-
sight. His book on the Will is not drawn out of his
deepest vein. One should look for that to his sermon
on Spiritual Light, or to his remarks on the Satisfac-
tion of Christ, a discussion which appears to me, in some
of its parts, to go deeper into the heart of that subject,
than the treatises of Grotius or Anselm, or almost any -
other essay on the same theme, ancient or modern.
But the mystical element was wanting in the arid
mind of his son, the younger President Edwards, and
conspicuously in Emmons; and some of the “‘improve-
92 FAITH AND RATIONALISM.
ments” in theology which were brought in by theolo-
gians of their stamp are neither tenable in themselves,
nor adapted to conciliate philosophical adversaries of
the evangelical creed.
Rationalism denotes a certain usurpation of reason.
The understanding steps out of its province, arrogates —
to itself more than belongs to it, refuses to hear other
voices than its own, disregards the just claims of other
departments of our being, or spurns the aid which they
afford in the ascertaining of truth. The understand- —
ing exalts its own separate, insulated function, pushes
on without its natural auxiliaries—sensibility and —
conscience, the life and experience of the soul—and
disdains feeling as an indirect source of light, and a
legitimate warrant of conviction. Let us attend to
several of the phases which the Rationalistic temper —
may assume.
1. Rationalism is impatient of mysteries in reli-
gion.* It demands that everything shall be made
plain. It will not endure the twilight, or the night
when only a few stars glimmer to guide the wayfarer
until the dawn shall appear. :
* The word mystery has in the New Testament a peculiar sense.
It signifies what once was hidden, but is now revealed: Rom. xi.
25, xvi. 25, 1 Cor. ii. 7, 9, Eph. i. 9, Mark iv. 11. The truth thus
revealed may, or may not be, in our sense of the term, mysterious,
t. €., only partly explicable.
MYSTERIES. 23
~ What is meant by a mysterious truth? Obviously
not a truth of which we have no knowledge whatever,
and which, therefore, stands in no relation to the know-
ing faculty. America was not a mystery to the an-
cients, before its existence was even surmised. It did
not become a mystery until a glimpse was caught of
its shores, or until, at least, there was an incipient be-
lief that a continent lay to the west of the Atlantic.
Many call that a mystery which they cannot wnagine,
or present as a concrete object before the mind’s eye.
But this we cannot do of man in the abstract, as dis-
tinguished from this or that individual, or of any gene-
ral notion. Things which persons cannot picture to
themselves, they will say that they do not understand.
Hiven educated persons, who ought to know better, fall
sometimes into this way of speaking. With more
truth may obscure or inadequate ideas, like substance,
power, the soul, infinite space, infinite duration, be
styled mysterious. The conceptive faculty is baffled in
the attempt to grasp certain objects, though they are
known as realities. Locke has much to say on this
subject.* Now we cannot deal with what is partly seen
as if it were seen wholly. And so if we proceed to
reason upon things imperfectly conceived, if we deal
with notions as co-extensive with the object, when they
are not, we may be led into contradictions. There are
* Essay, b. ii. cc. xxix. xxxi.
24 FAITH AND RATIONALISM.
propositions in which we may rest as far as they are Ms,
the correlate of moral or practical truth, but which
may not be pushed out to further conclusions. This oe :
is the nature, then, of mysterious truth. Something . - i
is gained if even this obvious fact is admitted, that we :
are bound to regard as true much which it is impossi-
ble to realize in imagination. God—to take one ex-
ample—formed his purposes, yet his purposes are :
ef! le ee ey ae
JP En TE, ER a A
‘ os a ? - - x
S xd t.
THE ATONEMENT. 59
boundaries of our knowledge, and to reconcile seeming
contradictions. But care is to be taken not to trench
on the main substance of the truth in any direction,
not to confound solutions suggested by human inge-
nuity with the Christian dogma, and charitably to
allow diversities of opinion in the wide district open
to speculation.
The Atonement is another cardinal truth of Christi-
anity. It emanates from the love of God; yet there
is an expiation, not only a proclaiming of peace, but a
making of peace, a relation to that righteous condem-
nation of sin in the mind of God which is reéchoed in
the human conscience. ‘ He loved us,” says Calvin,
quoting from Augustine, “even when we were in the
exercise of enmity against Him, and engaged in the
practice of iniquity. Wherefore, in a wonderful and
divine manner, He both hated us and loved us at the
same time.’* Here the theological problem is brought
before us. The passion for simplification, even if the
truth has to be pared down, is at once roused. What
is called the Moral View of the Atonement, when
advanced as a complete description of it, is an example
of this tendency. For one, I am thankful for the great
store of interesting truth which Schleiermacher—I
name Schleiermacher as incomparably the ablest man
* Institutes, B. IL., c. xvi. 4.
60 FAITH AND RATIONALISM.
of this class—and others have brought forward upon
the direct relation of Christ and of His work to man.
But if the exposition stop here, an element is left out.
We have had few preachers in this country to equal
Horace Bushnell; a man of genius, whose religious
thoughts came to him in flashes of light, which
may have sometimes had the effect to hinder him, for
the time, from seeing their needed complement. He
presented the Moral View of the work of Christ in an
extensive treatise, with remarkable eloquence and
felicity of illustration. Yet he appears to have been
conscious of a defect, and he set about to repair it in a
later Essay, in which he sought to find a place for a
reflex influence of the humiliation and death of Christ
upon the offended feeling of God, not otherwise to be
appeased. I say nothing of the special character of
this later speculation; I speak of it only as indicating
an uneasy sense of the insufficiency of the Moral View,
in the mind of one of its ablest expounders. Mr.
James Martinean entitles an Essay in which he attacks
the doctrine of the Atonement, “ Mediatorial Religion.”
The issue may well be made on the validity, or inva- _
lidity, of the conception involved in this title. Bishop
Butler has illustrated the consonance of the doctrine
of salvation by a Mediator with the analogies of expe-
rience. Who doubts, let me ask, the reasonableness of
intercessory prayer? But all intercessory prayer pro-
agieia
THE ATONEMENT. 61
ceeds on the assumption that the supplication of one
may obtain for another from God a good which might
be withheld without it. Here is mediation in one
form, universally recognized wherever there is piety
among men. What if Christ qualified Himself to be
the Intercessor by actually partaking of our penal lot,
thereby realizing in consciousness both the feeling of
God in view of the wrong inflicted on him, and the
guilt and distress of man under the displeasure of his
Maker? What if His intercession procures a boon,
not otherwise to be obtained, from the love and mercy
of God? Where is the absurdity in the supposition ?
If death be the wages of sin, as the Bible declares in
words that find a response in the consciences of men,
how can this particular quality or significance of death
fail to enter, as a constituent element, into the experi-
~~ ence of the dying Saviour? If just displeasure against
an offender is mitigated in us by the suffering of an-
other in his behalf, why, according to the same myste-
rious law, may it not be so with God? In theology
alone, are we to be debarred from admitting facts until
they shall be completely reduced to science ?
On this subject of the Atonement there is abundant
space for theological inquiry and debate, and room for
differences of opinion. But here, too, the aim must
be to preserve intact the essential elements of the
truth which are correlative to the needs of the soul.
- 62 FAITH AND RATIONALISM.
Better to adjourn the explication to a brighter day
than to sacrifice practical truth to the exigencies of a
system, or to espouse a one-sided theory simply be-
cause it is easy. -
The influence exerted by the Spirit of God upon
the soul is mysterious as to its mode; but not at all
more mysterious than forms of personal influence
where one mind is swayed by another, with which
all are familiar. On the first promulgation of the
Gospel, the doctrine of the influence of the Holy Spirit
excited no difficulty. The general idea was one
recognized by the heathen as probable. As to a clash-
ing of this truth with the freedom of the will, we
know that a particular evil habit may cling to one so
obstinately that there is no help for the subject of it, coll
except from without. Some new power must come in
to inspire and fortify his resolve. He is practically
helpless, Yet he is all the time responsible for his
habit; and unless he can be emancipated from it, it
will bring upon him, as all perceive, moral ruin. The
same thing is often true of a community which is
addicted to a particular vice, or is sunk low in the
general tone of its principles and conduct. The
means of escape must come, if at all, from some
exterior influence. The guilty agents are also victims;
they cannot lift themselves up to a higher plane: they
THE SCRIPTURES. 63
must be lifted up. A fresh breeze must blow upon
them to purify the moral atmosphere. A new power
must enter into them, and revive the smothered prin-
ciple of virtue. In connection with the truth of the
influence of the Spirit, emerges the old question of
liberty and necessity. Why should the Christian
believer be held accountable for clearing up a diffi-
culty, which has not only been a subject of incessant
debate in the schools, but likewise meets us equally in
the daily conduct of life? He may have his theory, as
any other may, or he may have none. This is a
private affair of his own. He acknowledges no deeper
mystery than thoughtful men are obliged to find at
every turn. The Christian preacher tells one who
longs to escape from sin: Pray as if it all depended
on God; strive as if it all depended on yourself. To
the logical difficulty that is raised by this counsel, he
is not bound to render an answer. That is a question
of science. Solve the seeming contradiction as you
will, experience proves, in multitudes of cases, that
this injunction occasions no practical perplexity. It is
~ acted on, and with the best result. ‘
A few words may now be said on the doctrine of
the Scriptures, which are the rule of our faith and
conduct. We touch here on a subject which, at the
present day, excites the attention of inquisitive minds
64 FAITH AND RATIONALISM, —
without and within the Church. The more searching a 7
study of the Bible, and the progress of knowledge in
other departments, especially in history and in natural
re ee
“te
~ £29
and physical science, have brought up new inet os
which those who believe in Christianity and revere the Be
Bible, yet do not pin their faith on tradition, have to ‘a
consider with candor and patience. The first thing to aa .
be said is, that no one is competent to interpret thes a
Scriptures, who cannot enter, with a living sympathy, ;
into their spirit. I might add that one who stands cS
outside of the Book, as it were, with no insight into
its moral and religious contents, is disabled from — 4
judging one branch of the evidence relative to external -
questions of date and authorship. Suppose a man
who is devoid of poetic feeling, but is sharp in geogra- ,
phy and statistics, to undertake the criticism of a
Shakespeare. He will observe that Hamlet studies at q
Wittenberg long before that university was founded, a
that Bohemia is furnished with a sea-coast, the scene
of a shipwreck, that Hector quotes Aristotle at the
siege of Troy, and that Ajax Telamon is confounded
with Ajax Oileus. But the boundless store of |
thought and of beauty, scattered in almost reckless a
profusion upon the pages of his author, the mere a 5
plodder will scarcely discern. The qualities which are
requisite in a critic of the Bible are parallel with 4
such as everybody thinks essential in poetry, in the ba
THE SCRIPTURES. 65
fine arts generally, in every department where some-
thing is required beyond mere keenness and informa-
tion. An unreligious critic will not get through the
shell of the Bible. The “earthen vessels” in which,
as the Apostle says, the treasure is hidden, he may
scan, and detect every crack and blemish, but the
treasure which they enclose, will escape him. On
questions of chronology, on questions of history even,
where his bias against the supernatural does not
vitiate his reasoning, he may shed light. His in-
vestigations, if pursued in a truly scientific spirit,
_ will have their value. But beyond a restricted field,
his judgments may be wholly at fault.
Let me advert to one or two illustrations of the
directly opposite judgments that may be pronounced
upon the same books of Scripture. Mr. J. 8. Mill
refers in quite disparaging terms, in his Essays on
Religion, to the Gospel of John, and especially to the
discourses reported in it. The foremost of the Re-
formers, whom Mr. Mill himself would consider a very
able man, speaks of the same book as “ the chief Gos-
pel,” can hardly find words strong enough to express
his delight in it; and the long discourse in the final
chapters he characterizes as the “best and most com-
forting which the Lord Jesus uttered on earth,” as “a
treasure and a jewel,” which the wealth of the world
could not balance. Nowhere else, he says, are the
66 FAITH AND RATIONALISM.
principal articles of the Christian faith so powerfully
set forth. Niebuhr, a man of most vigorous intellect
—and he is but one out of an uncounted number who
have shared in the same conviction—clung to this
Gospel with an intense love. Why do the contents of
a book which address these minds with such an irre-
sistible fascination, seem “poor stuff” to a writer whose
judgments in certain departments of literature are far
from being contemptible? It is because he is out of
his element.. The book of which he speaks in so slight-
ing a tone lies without the circle of thought and expe-
rience in which he is at home. It is only another case
where the critic really judges himself. Because he
sees nothing, he infers that nothing is to be seen.
One who should pronounce an oratorio of Handel, or
the symphonies of Beethoven, ‘poor stuff,” would sim-
ply prove that he had no ear for music, or that his
exceptionally feeble sensibility in that direction had
been left undeveloped. A man who should character-
ize the Madonnas of Raphael as daubs might be an
authority in political economy, but mistakes his calling
in assuming the réle of a critic in Art. A cultivated
author, who is of the school called “free religionists,”
in a recent work on the life of Christ, makes a remark
to the effect that the Epistles to the Romans and to —
the Galatians are, for the most part, ‘intellectually arid _ am
and devoid of human interest.” But these writings, ae
‘
THE EPISTLES OF PAUL. 67
more than any other single-cause, made the Protestant
Reformation. What a flame they kindled in the soul of
Luther! The renewed study of these short tracts con-
vulsed Europe. Ata later day, John Bunyan, after de-
scribing the remorse, and dread, and sorrow for sin,
which had long tortured him, says: “Well, after many
such longings in my mind, the God in whose hands are
all our days and ways, did cast into my hand one day
a book of Martin Luther; it was his comment on the
Galatians; it, also, was so old that it was ready to fall
from piece to piece if I did but turn it over.” After
reading but a little way, he says: ‘I found my condi-
tion, in his experience, so largely and profoundly han-
- dled, as if his book had been written out of my heart.”
This insight on the part of his author amazed Bunyan.
“T do prefer,” he adds, “this book of Martin Luther
upon the Galatians before all the books that ever I
have seen, as most fit for a wounded conscience.”
John Wesley, after suffering long-continued anxieties
of feeling on account of sin, and from want of faith in
Christ, attended, on a certain evening, a meeting where
a person read Luther’s preface to the Hpistle to the
Romans, in which the Reformer dwells on the nature
of faith, and the peace that arises from it. That pas-
sage infused an altogether new trust and joy into
Wesley’s heart. That moment was a turning-point in
his career. Methodism must be allowed to be a sub-
68 FAITH AND RATIONALISM.
stantial fact. When revolutions in personal character,
and mighty changes in the course of history, not in
one age only, but in a long succession of ages, are
directly traceable to certain books, has not the critic
who finds in them little that is remarkable, some reason —
to suspect that the fault is in himself? May there not
reside in them a power which, for some reason, he is
not competent to discern ?
The second remark which I have to make is that in
the discussion of this grave subject, a discussion which
is certain to be carried forward hereafter with even
more interest than it excites now, the defenders of the
Gospel have to guard against the intrusion of a
Rationalistic tendency into their conception of the
Scriptures and of Inspiration. We may safely say ~
that the distress of mankind, considered in connection
with what natural religion discloses of the character
of God, affords some ground for expecting a Revelation.
At least, we are debarred from pronouncing a Revela-
tion impossible, and are reasonably required to attend
to the pretensions of a system that has the obvious and
acknowledged excellence of Christianity. But every-
thing warns us to be cautious about going too far on
the a@ priori road. Things, in a thousand particulars,
are not what we might have expected them to be. |
The Roman Catholic theologian argues a priori for the
authority of the Church, and now for the infallibility
‘
“a
c
e
5 ag
4
y
a
THE METHOD OF REVELATION. 69
of the Pope, from the need of an unerring interpreter
to remedy the infirmities of human reason—an umpire
at hand to end the strife. Will not the benevolent
Being who gave the Revelation provide a living guide
for the understanding of it, a safeguard against cor-
ruption, and against endless controversies about its
meaning ?
From these confident anticipations in regard to what
God will do, I turn with satisfaction to the discreet
utterances of Butler :
“ As we are in no sort judges beforehand, by what
laws or rules, in what degree or by what means, it
were to have been expected that God would naturally,”
—i.e., by the use of our natural powers—“ instruct us ;
so upon supposition of His affording us light and in-
struction by revelation, additional to what He has af-
forded us by reason and experience, we are in no sort
judges, by what methods, and in what proportion, it
were to be expected that this supernatural light and
instruction would be afforded us.” We know not be-
forehand,” Butler proceeds to say, ‘‘ what knowledge
God would afford men by natural means, what power
or disposition they would have to communicate it,
what sort of evidence it would rest upon, whether or
not it would be equally clear to all; whether reason,
thé power of apprehending it, would be given at once,
or gradually.” “In like manner,” he goes on to say,
4
TO FAITH AND RATIONALISM.
“we are wholly ignorant what degree of new know-
ledge it were to be expected God would give mankind
by revelation, upon supposition of His affording one;
or in how far, or in what way, He would interpose
miraculously to qualify them, to whom He should
originally make the revelation, for communicating the
knowledge given by it; and to secure their doing it to
the age in which they should live, and to secure its
being transmitted to posterity. We are equally ig-
norant . .. . whether the scheme would be revealed
at once, or unfolded gradually. Nay, we are not in
any sort able to judge whether it were to have been
expected, that the Revelation should have been com-
mitted to writing ; or left to be handed down, and con-
sequently corrupted, by verbal tradition, and at length
sunk under it, if mankind so pleased, and during such
time as they are permitted, in the degree they evident-
ly are, to act as they will.” “And thus we see that
the only question concerning the truth of Christianity
is, whether it be a real revelation ; not whether it be
attended with every circumstance which we should
have looked for: and, concerning the authority of
Scripture, whether it be what it claims to bes:-notme
whether it be a book of such sort, and so promulged
as weak men are apt to fancy a book containing a di-
vine revelation should.” This wise theologian appeals
to our experience as regards the knowledge imparted
eaae a ig bs we, pA rae
Ss es 3 Mateihs ee ees ons : Pry 2 wale 4 are :
ee ee 2 Ache eee ey
oe an ear 8 _-RELIGIO Us STUDIES. . 79
» 9 a hg
j inspiring studies are to be your lifelong occupation,
Ss ov
* Ve PHN Ss
APPENDIX.
~
S.
¢:
i
THE TEACHING OF THEOLOGY ON THE MORAL
BASIS OF FAITH.
The masters of theology in all ages have generally
taught that a living faith, as contrasted with an intel-
lectual assent to propositions whether of fact or of —
doctrine, springs out of the heart; that the existence
_ or non-existence of such faith is contingent on the state
or
~
of the affections and the will; and that, in many
instances, the only remedy for scepticism of the intel-
lect is to be found in a change of the moral temper, or
in an altered bent of the will.
This is the philosophy of Augustine. But in his
case, as in the Schoolmen afterwards, the treatment of
the subject of faith is somewhat confused by the view
taken of the authority of the Visible Church. Faith
is partly the loyal acceptance of the Church as the
authorized and qualified guide, and partly that imme-
diate sense of the truth and excellence of the Gospel,
~ and of its adaptedness to the wants of the soul, which
avails to triumph over all doubts. Augustine began
83
84 FAITH AND RATIONALISM.
with a restless seeking after God; and in this craving
for a supernal good, in his view, the religious life in
sinful men must take its rise. This is a distinctively
moral feeling, not mere intellectual curiosity. Bat
tossed as he had been from one opinion to another, he
felt the need of a present, authoritative voice to still the
tumult within; and this he recognized in the Catholic
Church. Here, again, it was not. external criteria
alone, such as miracles, the succession of bishops in
the Apostolic sees, and the like, which satisfied. him
that the Church could be trusted; but it was the :
victory which he saw that Christianity, as preserved ~~
and transmitted in the Church, had gained, in spite of
all obstacles, in the Roman world, and the ennobling,
purifying influence which had gone forth from the
Gospel and the Church upon individual souls and
upon society. Here, once more, was a moral source of
conviction. ‘Christianity and the Church,” to quote
from Neander, “and, indeed, the Church under this
particular form of constitution, were confounded in his |
view. What he might justly regard as a witness for — %
the divine, world-transforming power of the Gospel,
appeared to him as a witness for the divine authority
of the visible, universal Church; and he did notcon-
sider that the Gospel truth would have been able to
bring about effects equally great, by its inherent
divine power, in some other vessel in which it could —
s
s
4
Pe a
+.
a a a aa a as
,2
= he
AUGUSTINE ON FAITH. — 85
have been diffused among mankind; nay, that it
would have been able to produce still purer and
mightier effects, had it not been in many ways dis-
turbed and checked in its operation by the impure
and confining vehicle of its transmission.” * The
maxims, Faith precedes knowledge ; Believe that you
may understand — “ Fides preecedit intellectum;”’
b)
_“Crede, ut intelligas’””—which were adopted by the
Schoolmen, are found, in these very words, in Augus-
tine. I believe that I may understand—“ Credo, ut
’
- intelligam”—the noted saying of Anselm, is thus
almost verbally identical with sentences of the father
of Latin theology. Although the authority of the
Church, and, on that ground, the truth of the complex
system of doctrines which the Church inculcated, were
held to deserve immediate acknowledgment, yet, as
we have said above, the intrinsic excellence of the
Gospel itself, and the love immediately evoked by it
in the soul, were made prominent as the sources of a
living faith. The truth, it was held, shines in its own
light. The practical experience of the Gospel, in its
enlightening and saving power, was held to be the pre-
requisite of the intellectual comprehension of it. Iix-
perience was put first; science afterwards. It was
Anselm, the first of the eminent medizeval expounders
of the relation of faith to reason, who said: ‘‘ He who
* Church History, vol. II. p. 241.
wali a oa re ae ate Se as ie heats on a es
aX epi st
86 | FAITH AND RATIONALISM.
has not believed, has not experienced, and he who has
not experienced, will not understand.” a
“ Faith,” says St. Bernard, “is a certain voluntary =
and assured prelibation of the truth,” not yet made ;
explicit or reduced to science. The heart anticipates
the understanding, not waiting for intellectual analysis. < a
Alexander of Hales says that in religion the relation - ag
of knowledge and believing is the reverse of that .
which exists in other sciences, because in religion faith i
creates the reason; it is the argument which makes
the reason ; it is the light of the soul—lwmen anima- : 5
rum—which makes it perspicacious to find out the — e
reasons by which the things of faith are proved. ~
There is an inward certitude, founded on love, or the - 4
surrender of the heart to the truth, which is distinct -
from conviction on purely intellectual grounds. Bon-
aventura, the great doctor of the Franciscans, founds
the conviction that is in faith, not on logical demon-
strations, but on love to that which is presented as the -
object of faith. It is the contents of the truth, not
external verifications, that carry the assent of the —
soul. Albert the Great makes religious faith, as dis- 4
tinguished from theoretical certainty, to be an imme- .
diate persuasion of the truth, where we are attracted — :
by the object of faith, in the same manner that the®
will is determined by the moral law.
“The merit of faith,” says Hugo of St. Victor 4
SE RIE Seg eS
THE REFORMERS ON FAITH. 87
- “eonsists in the fact that our conviction is determined
by the affections, when no adequate knowledge is yet
present. By faith, we render ourselves worthy of
knowledge, as perfect knowledge is the final reward of
faith in the life eternal.” William of Paris separates
that faith which springs from a rational knowledge of
the object, an intellectual comprehension, from that
which springs from the virtue of the believer, or his
temper of heart. He speaks of a “ fortitude which
overcomes the darkness of incoming doubt, and by its
own light scatters the clouds of unbelief.’’*
The Reformers, while discarding the Scholastic
doctrine of the authority of the Church, were pene-
trated with the conviction that a living faith has an
immediate source deeper than the understanding. As
to the existence of God, Calvin says: “We lay it
down as a position not to be controverted that the
human mind, even by natural instinct, possesses some
sense of a Deity.” ‘The minds of men are fully pos-
)
sessed with this common principle ’””—the sense of
religion — “ which is closely interwoven with their
original composition.” He speaks of our “ propensity
to religion,’ of the “innate persuasion’’ which men
have of the divine existence, a persuasion inseparable
from their very constitution ;’ a perception which sin
* On the Religious Philosophy of the Schoolmen, see Neander,
Church History, vol. iv., p. 367 seq.
88 FAITH AND RATIONALISM.
has never wholly extinguished. ‘No man can take a
survey of himself but he must immediately turn to
the contemplation of God, in whom he ‘lives and
moves ’; since it is evident that the talents which we
possess are not from ourselves, and that our very exis-
tence is nothing else but a subsistence in God alone.”*
Melanchthon, the author of the principal doctrinal
treatise in the Lutheran Church, says, on the same
subject: “God desires to be known and worshiped ;
and the clear and sure knowledge of God would have
flashed upon the mind of men, had human nature re-
mained sound.” Now the minds of men wander “ in
a great and gloomy mist, inquiring whether there be
a God, whether there be a Providence, and what is the
will of God.” +
Faith, as is well known, is a great theme with Lu-
ther. That the source of inward certitude with re-
spect to religious truth, does not lie in the understand-
ing, but in the relation of that truth to the appeten- —
cies of the soul, is asserted in every variety of form.
Take out this general idea from Luther’s discussions
of the subject, and no Luther would be left. He plants
himself upon the Word of God, but it is to the con-
science and heart that the Word comes home
with power. The understanding, left to itself, is a
blind and false guide. No words are too strong for
* Institutes, B. I., i. 1., iii. 1, 2,3. + Loci Theol., de Deo.
ar. ae 4 wr it de Oe.
1+ he ee
7-72 tae PONS ne “a4
sgt ge
;
2:
-
fe
Nhe At eae
ae > SR Se
PASCAL ON FAITH AND REASON. §9
Luther to express his scorn for reason, taken in this
sense. The Protestant theology taught that the truth
of the Scriptures is apprehended in a penetrating, liv-
ing way, only through “the testimony of the Holy
Spirit,” who gave it. The Spirit that inspired the
sacred writers must move on the heart of the reader.
Otherwise, he stands on the outside, and will never
get beyond an intellectual assent to the facts and pro-
positions which they record. It may be that he will
not even reach that.
Pascal’s philosophy of religion turns on the distinc-
tion between the functions of the heart and of the un-
derstanding. The understanding by itself leads to
_ pyrrhonism, because the understanding goes out of its
province. If there is to be religious knowledge, God
must not only reveal or communicate Himself, but, also,
that in man which is related to God must be open to
the reception of Him. This holds good of the revela-
tion of God in the creation, as truly as of the disclosure
of Himself in the Scriptures. There is no coercive
revelation, no light to which the eyes cannot be closed,
no demonstrated truth. There is a mingling of light
and shade in the revelation which God makes of Him-
self, to the end that the effect of it may not be irresist-
ible. If itis true that He reveals Himself, it is also
true that He hides Himself. He will be found of those
who seek Him. “I wonder at the boldness with which
90 FAITH AND RATIONALISM.
‘men speak of God, in addresses to the irreligious, —
Their first undertaking is to prove the Deity by the
by a
works of nature. I should not be astonished at their — 3
undertaking, if they were addressing their discourses
to believers ; for it is certain that all those who have 92%
a living faith in their hear ts, see at once that there is
nothing which is not the work of God whom they wor- |
ship. But it is otherwise with those in whom this
light is quenched, and in whom it is desired to revive 4
it, persons destitute of faith and of grace, who seeking,
with all the light they have, for everything in nature
which can lead to this knowledge, find only obscurity 3
and darkness: to say to these that they have only to
look at the least thing in the world, and they will see
God unveiled, and to give them, as the whole proof of
this great and important subject, the course of the
moon or of the planets, and to pretend to have com-
pleted the proof by such a discourse,—this is only to
furnish them occasion to think that the proofs of our |
religion are very feeble; and I perceive, both by rea-
son and experience, that nothing is better adapted to
make them despise it. It is not in this way that the a :
Scripture, which is better acquainted with the things =
of God, speaks. On the contrary, it says that He is a
hidden God; and that, since the corruption of nature,
He has left men in a blindness from which they can
only escape by Jesus Christ, without whom all com-
=
v ¢
hy
ps PASCAL ON FAITH AND REASON. 91
munication with God is closed: ‘No one knoweth the
Father but. the Son, and him to whom the Son shall
reveal Him.’ It is this which is signified by the
Scripture when it says, in so many places, that those
who seek God find Him. No one speaks in this way
of a light which shines as bright as mid-day. We do
not say that those who seek for the daylight at noon,
or for water in the sea, will find them. And s0 it
cannot be that such is the evidence of God in nature.’””*
Elsewhere he says: “there is light enough for those
who desire to see, and darkness enough for those of an
opposite temper.” ‘God would rather make the will,
than the mind, susceptible. Perfect clearness would
aid the mind and be harmful to the will.” The diff-
culties in the evidences of Christianity and theology
are to be frankly admitted: they are a part of the
discipline of faith. The deep meaning of an Epistle
of Paul is opened up only in the heart of a believer.
With him the acquaintance with it is not a mere act of
memory. A man must, so to speak, live himself into-
religion. He must feel his way. The consideration of ~
outward nature, at the best, could only make one a
Deist. But “ the God of the Christians is a God who
makes the soul feel that He is its only good; that all
its rest is in Him, and that it will have no joy except
in loving Him; and who, at the same time, makes him
*Pensées, c. xxii. (ed. Louandre, p. 320).
92 FAITH AND RATIONALISM.
hate the obstacles which hold him back, and prevent —
him from loving God with all his strength.”* Chris-
tianity, Pascal teaches, accomplishes two things: it
makes a man know that there is a God for whom men
are susceptible, and that in their nature there is a
corruption which makes them unworthy of Him. The
consideration of himself and of the world should bring
man to Christ as his Redeemer, and through Christ he
will learn to find God everywhere and to understand
Him. Such is the religious philosophy which satisfied
the genius of Pascal.
That faith includes a sense, or spiritual recognition
of the excellence of its objects, is fundamental in the
religious and ethical philosophy of President Edwards.
I quote but one out of numberless passages where it
is asserted. “If the evidence of the gospel depended
only on history, and such reasonings as learned men ~
only are capable of, it would be above the reach of far
the greatest part of mankind. But persons with but
an ordinary degree of knowledge are capable, without
a long and subtile train of reasoning, to see the divine
excellency of the things of religion: they are capable
of being taught by the Spirit of God as well as learned
men. ‘The evidence that is this way obtained is vastly
better and more satisfying than all that can be obtained
by the arguings of those that are most learned, and
* Tbid., c. xxii.
“i ca. alla
GERMAN THEOLOGIANS ON FAITH. 93
greatest masters of reason. And babes are as capable
of knowing these things as the wise and prudent; and
they are often hid from these when they are revealed
to those.”*
The modern evangelical theology of Germany, as a
reaction against Rationalism, started first from Schlei-
ermacher, who had been preceded, to some extent, by
Jacobi. - In very important particulars, Schleiermach-
ers conception of religion has been modified by the
eminent theologians who have come after, and who
have known how to unite a genuine scientific spirit
with evangelical belief. But in the radical idea of
faith as having roots of its own in the moral and re-
ligious nature, they agree with one another, and with
the great genius to whom, however much they may
differ from him, they consciously owe so much. This
remark is true of such men as Twesten, Nitzsch, Ne-
ander, Tholuck, Julius Miller, Rothe, Dorner. The
conflict with Rationalism in Germany led to a deeper
appreciation of the nature of religion, and to views
more in consonance with the thoughts of Luther, and
of profound thinkers in the Church from the begin-
ning.
In England, it is Coleridge, more than any other
writer, who, by calling up the old divines, and by his
own teaching, has done much to promote a like re-
* Works, vol. iv. p. 449 (Sermon on Spiritual Light).
94. FAITH AND RATIONALISM.
_generation of theology. The two characteristic points
in Coleridge’s philosophy of religion are the distinction
between Nature and Spirit, and the distinction be-
tween Understanding and Reason. The doctrine of
the free, self-determining power of the spirit, itself |
involves an immediate recognition of a fact of con-
sciousness, a fact swi generis; the will, in its very
idea, presupposing an exemption from the law of cause
and effect which extends over Nature. Coleridge’s
idea of Reason mingles in it elements suggested by
Kant and Jacobi. It is defined as “ the mind’s eye,”
of which realities, not creatures of fancy, are the ob-
jects. Itis the organ of the supersensuous, by which
truths ave beheld which neither the senses, nor the
understanding which deals with the materials provided —
by sense, furnish. Faith is defined generally as “fidel-
ity to our own being—so far as such being is not and
can not become an object of the senses,” together with
its.concomitants. The first recognition of conscience
by ourselves partakes of the nature of an act. Through
conscience, which commands and dictates, we know
ourselves to be agents. ‘We take upon ourselves an
allegiance, and consequently the obligation of fealty ;
and this fealty, or fidelity, implying the power of being
unfaithful, is the first and fundamental sense of Faith.”
The preservation of our loyalty and fealty amid the se-
ductions of sense and of sin constitutes the second
we ail aay a Tae ee or Pie ee
COLERIDGE ON FAITH. 95
sense of Faith. And the third is what is presupposed
in the human conscience, the acknowledgment of God,
the rightful Superior whose will conscience reveals,
duty to whom imparts their obligatory force to all
other duties.* We believe in God because it is our
duty to believe in Him. “The wonderful works of
God in the sensible world are a perpetual discourse,
reminding me of His existence, and shadowing out to
me His perfections. But as all language presupposes,
in the intelligent hearer or reader those primary
notions which it symbolizes; as well as the power of
making those combinations of these primary notions
which it represents, and excites us to combine; even
so I believe that the notion of God is essential to the
human mind; that it is called forth into distinct con-
sciousness principally by the conscience, and auxiliarily
by the manifest adaptation of means to ends in the
outward creation. It is, therefore, evident to my
reason, that the existence of God is absolutely and
_ necessarily insusceptible of a scientific demonstration,
and that Scripture has so represented it. For it com-
mands us to believe in one God. Lam the Lord thy
God ; thou shalt have none other gods than me. Now
all commandment necessarily relates to the will :
whereas all scientific demonstration is independent of
the will, and is apodictic or demonstrative only as far
* Essay on Faith (Shedd’s ed.,) vol. v., p. 557 seq.
é
96 FAITH AND RATIONALISM.
as it is compulsory on the mind, volentem, *nolencoa
tem.” * With Coleridge, it is the intrinsic character oa
of Christianity, not the external proof, which leads the — ig
way in inspiring a conviction that God is its author.
As “to matters of faith, to the verities of religion,” in : 3
the belief of these “ there must always be somewhat of | 4
moral election, ‘an act of will in it as well as of the
understanding, as much love in it as discursive power.
True Christian faith must have in it something of in-
evidence, something that must be made up: by duty.
. 9)
and obedience.’” + The quotation included is from —
Jeremy Taylor. In another place, Coleridge exclaims:
“ Hvidences of Christianity ! I am weary of the word. : ~
Make a man feel the want of it; rouse him, if you -*
can, to the self-knowledge of his need of it; and you. we
may safely trust it to its own evidence; remembering 3 3
only the express declaration of Christ Himself: ‘ No a
man cometh to me, unless the Father leadeth him.’”{ -—
Of the principles which underlie all specific precepts q
of the Bible, Coleridge writes: “From the very ‘
nature of those principles, as taught in the Bible, they —
are understood in exact proportion as they are believed —
and felt. The regulator is never separated from the 4
main-spring. For the words of the Apostle are liter- a
ally and philosophically true: We (that is, the human — _
race) live by faith. Whatever we do or know that in
* Vol. vp, 15.6 Voli. p, 328.12) Vol. i) pecess
J. H. NEWMAN ON FAITH. 97
kind is different from the brute creation, has its
origin in a determination of the reason to have faith
and trust in itself. This is the first act of faith, is
scarcely less than identical with its own being.” *
Among living theologians no one has set forth the
moral basis of faith with more philosophical depth than
Dr. John Henry Newman. Faith, a living faith, “lives
in, and from, a desire after those things which it ac-
cepts and confesses.” ‘‘ Philosophers, ancient and mo-
dern, who have been eminent in physical science have
not unfrequently shown a tendency to infidelity.”
“Unless there be a pre-existent and independent
interest in the inquirer’s mind, leading him to dwell
on the phenomena which betoken an Intelligent
Creator, he will certainly follow out those which ter-
minate in the hypothesis of a settled order of nature
and self-sustained laws.” “The practical safeguard
against Atheism in the case of scientific inquirers is
_ the inward need and desire, the inward experience of
that Power, existing in the mind before and independ-
ently of their examination of His material world.”
“Faith is a process of the Reason, in which so much
of the grounds of inference cannot be exhibited, so
much lies in the character of the mind itself, in its ge-
neral view of things, its estimate of the probable and
the improbable, its impressions concerning .God’s will,
#
5 * Vol. i. p. 323.
98 FAITH AND RATIONALISM.
1 ed
a ey
’ 2 ¢
os cee
ae et , ra
‘yy pe 2
and its anticipations derived from its own inbred —
wishes, that it will ever seem to the world irrational
and despicable ;—till, that is, the event confirms it,”
“Can it, indeed, be doubted that the great majority of
those who have sincerely and deliberately given them- —
selves to religion, who take it for their portion, and
stake their happiness upon it, have done So, not on an
examination of evidence, but from a Spontaneous move-
ment of their hearts towards it?” Faith “is said, and
rightly, to be a venture, to involve a risk.” “We be.
lieve because we love. How plain a truth!” “The
safeguard of Faith is a right state of heart, This it is
that gives it birth; it also disciplines it.” “Why does
he’ —the believer—feel the message to be probable?
Because he has a love for it. ..... He has a keen
sense of the excellence of the message, of its desirable-
ness, of its likeness to what it seems to him Divine ©
Goodness would vouchsafe, did He vouchsafe any, of
the need of a Revelation, and its probability.” God,
“for whatever reason, exercises us with the less evi-
dence when He might give us the greater.” .....,
“perchance by the defects of the evidence He is trying
our love of its matter.” Faith “rests on the evidence
of testimony, weak in proportion to the excellence of
the blessing attested.”* These quotations, after what
I have said on preceding pages, need no comment.
eo
nd ee ee, ee
Sy 24 ' Sey meh
Se ee Pa Cee, Eig ee ee
* University Sermons, pp. 193, 194, 203, 216, 225, 234, 236.
il;
THE DOCTRINE OF NESCIENCE RESPECTING GOD.
That there is a First Cause, an eternal, self-existent
being, the source whence all things spring, is implied
in the intuitive idea of cause. Something eternal
must have existed; otherwise nothing could exist now.
An infinite series of existences, each produced by the
one before it, gives no true causal agency, and thus
fails to satisfy the rational demand for a real cause.
The mind is simply set off on a fruitless chase where
there is no goal. Only an uncaused cause, or a self-
existent, eternal being, corresponds to the rational
demand, and gives rest to the mind.
This is substantially conceded at the present day by
the class known as agnostics. The question is, What
_are the attributes of this eternal being? Is the First
Cause intelligent and moral? Here we are met by
the assertion that the First Cause is utterly unknowa-
ble. It is declared to be impossible for us to make
any assertion respecting its nature. In separ we
100 FAITH AND RATIONALISM.
are forbidden to consider the First Cause to be a person. _
All such representations are pronounced anthropomor-
phic, or the offspring of the groundless fancy that the
cause of all things is like ourselves. Mr. Herbert
Spencer goes so far as to call the belief in the person-
ality of God, that is, the ordinary Christian faith on
this subject, ‘‘impious.”
One ground of this surprising assertion is the al-
leged inconceivability of the “Infinite.” “The infi-
nite” is a metaphysical abstraction, and is nothing real
whatever. What we have to inquire into is the mean-
ing of this term as the predicate of a being or of some
attribute of a being. Space offers the readiest example
of an infinite, and by looking at our idea of space we
can see the extent of our power to apprehend what is
denoted by this term. First, it is clear that we cannot.
picture with the imagination the infinitude of space.
We can thus represent mentally a given portion of
space, and we can extend this portion by addition in-
definitely. But in this process we can come to no li-
mit, for the obvious reason that space has no limit.
Neither can we conceive of space as infinite, if it be
meant that we set boundaries round the object. Space
is one object; it is not an individual in a class; and
thus imagination and conception with respect to it co-
incide.
Shall we say then that our idea of the infinite as
\
-
[THE INFINITUDE OF GOD. 101.
predicated of space, is simply an expression of our im-
_ potence to find a limit, to reach in our travels
through immensity a place beyond which we cannot
go? More than this is included in our cognition.
Not only are we conscious of an inability in ourselves
to.reach a limit in imagination; we know that there is
no limit to be reached. Our assertion goes beyond a
confession of our own weakness, and includes a positive
affirmation respecting the object, respecting space it-
self,—viz., that it is boundless. We have a belief pos-
itive in its character, a conception incomplete, or
inchoate, which is a state of mind removed, on the one
hand, from nescience, and, on the other, from full or
adequate comprehension. We know infinite space, but
we know it imperfectly, obscurely. It is incompre-
hensible, yet not a zero to our apprehension.
In the same manner, we may know the infinitude of
the attributes of God, of His power and His other per-
- fections, without comprehending them. We are not
driven to choose between the two extremes of complete
ignorance and complete knowledge.
Personality involves no curtailment of infinitude, as
long as the world is absolutely dependent upon the will
of God for its being, and when all limitation upon the
exertion of His power is a self-limitation on His part.
Secondly, it is objected that Christian theism falla-
ciously assumes that the cause is like the effect, that
102 FAITH AND RATIONALISM.
God is like ourselves. “Tf for a moment,” says Spen-
cer,—referring to Paley’s illustration of the watch—
“we make the grotesque supposition that the tickings
and other movements of a watch constituted a kind of —
consciousness ; and that a watch possessed of such a
consciousness insisted upon regarding a watchmaker’s
actions as determined like its own by springs and es-
capements ; we should only complete a parallel of
which religious teachers think much.” The parallel
fails, since religious teachers do not ascribe to God
limbs and other physical organs, Spencer’s remark
has no force except on the materialistic petitio prin-
cypw that consciousness is nothing but a function of
the bodily organs. If there were a thinking prin-
ciple in a watch, which could adjust its move-
ments at will, and act upon it and through it, as
the mind of man acts upon his body, finding in-it
arrangements adapted to his needs and purposes, then S
this thinking principle, or mind in the watch, would.
refer it to an intelligent maker. If the cause need not
be like the effect, it must nevertheless be related to the
effect ; it must be an adequate cause. This requires”
us to assume a designer wherever there is order, or
the adaptedness of means to ends, since prevision is |
implied in the cause which produces it.
There is no escape from this reasoning on the
ground of the alleged relativity of our knowledge. —
-* _ .
shi as
Sh tee Be fae
ee Tipe
wy ee or
rt ets 4
ola ich
sj aa
PERSONALITY OF GOD. 103
If this phrase means that all that we know we know
through our faculties of knowledge, none will deny it.
If, for this reason, our knowledge is denied to be real,
or objectively valid, this is scepticism, and must
equally debar us from believing that there is a First
Cause. All our knowledge, including the assumption
of “the unknowable,” goes overboard at once. A
like remark is to be made of the alleged growth of the
intellectual principle, or its evolution from animal
instinct. We are in possession of this principle, what-
ever may be the method of its origin. Discredit it,
and all our science vanishes into thin air. Do we
know that there is a First Cause? If so, we know,
also, that this cause is moral and intelligent, since the
effects are such as imply these qualities. An inad-
equate cause, a cause in its nature standing in no
rational relation to its effects, is equivalent to no cause.
The peculiarity of the effects is left unexplained.
If we looked on the conceptions formed by us of God
as fully coincident with reality, if we imputed to Him
the infirmities inseparable from a finite mind, and re-
garded our operations of thought as an exact repre-
sentation of His, we might be charged with an offen-
sive anthropomorphism. But this charge does not
hold against the assumption that He is a Spirit, an
Agent acting intelligently ; for this the effects of His
action plainly reveal Him to be. -
ITT.
THE DOCTRINE OF EVOLUTION IN ITS RELA-
TION TO THE ARGUMENT OF DESIGN.
Evolution, as a method of accounting for the origi-
nation of living beings in Nature, and of physical
changes, stands in contrast with the idea of separate
acts of creation by the immediate fiat of God, or by
His direct interference. When applied in zoology, it
means that the different kinds of animals are geneti-
cally connected with one another, just as individuals
of the same species have commonly been acknowledged
to be. It signifies that the different species arise, not
by a special fiat calling each into being independently,
but by transmutation, there being a genealogical rela-
tionship between them. As regards the origin of indi-
viduals, it is as if there were only one species, embra-
cing the animals that are now alive, and such as have
lived in the past. Among the scientific men who adopt
the theory of Evolution, there are wide diversities of
Ben as to the extent to which it is justly applicable
A
.
;
a.
Ma
;
ets:
:
7
;
J
.
rh
DOCTRINE OF EVOLUTION. 105
to explain the origin of the various groups of natural
objects. Some deem it necessary to suppose special ex-
ertions of creative agency at particular points of tran-
sition in the history of animal life. Many would re-
gard the introduction of man upon the stage of being
as constituting one of those epochs. Mr. Darwin be-
heves that animal life, including the human species, is
traceable to a few primitive germs, possibly to one.
Others think that evolution provides a bridge to span
the interval between animal and vegetable, and even
between vegetable and inorganic existences, and as-
sume as probable a continuous process extending back
from the highest living being to the formless material
of which the world was originally composed. Few, if
any, however, would maintain that so sweeping an hy-
pothesis can claim, in the present state of knowledge,
any higher rank than belongs to a conjecture. That
life is developed out of inorganic matter, or that man
is the offspring of a lower animal, are certainly not
as yet fully established or universally accepted truths
of science.
It is obvious that the doctrine of Evolution relates
_ to the extent of the operation of second causes, or effi-
cient causes, in the production of the world as we see
it—the cosmos. That doctrine does not touch the
question of the ultimate origin of the world; it does
not necessarily touch the question whether the world,
6*
106 FAITH AND RATIONALISMN.
as we behold it, is the fruit of a designing mind; nor
does it affirm or deny the continuous co-operative
agency of God in the processes of nature. Physical
and natural science, as such, has nothing to do with
religion. Its field of inquiry is second causes. In ex- :
ploring for links of causal connection between the ob-
jects of nature, it is engaged in its proper work. —
Wherever it judges it impossible to find such links, it
must say so. But science is right in never giving up
the search so long as there is any probability of success;
and nothing is more unreasonable than to raise an out-
cry against a man like Mr. Darwin for broaching the __
hypothesis of a common descent of animals, and for ad-
ducing the evidence which leads him to favor it. If
there be any thing in that hypothesis to affect the doc-
trine of theism, it must be in collateral assertions which
are sometimes made in connection with it. It does not
inhere in the theory itself. When a human being is
born into the world, the proofs of a designing Creator
are not in the least weakened by the fact that he comes
into existence by ordinary generation, and that physio-
logical science can explain the successive stages of his ~
embryonic life. What is true of the individual in re-
lation to his kind, is equally true of one species in re-
lation to another. We may take an illustration from
one of the triumphs of modern inventive genius, the
printing-press. A huge roll of blank paper is at one
DESIGN AND SECOND CAUSES. 107
end of a machine; at the other end there are thrown
| out the newspapers, in large double sheets, each of the
= right dimensions, printed on both sides, counted out in
separate parcels, or neatly folded, in readiness for the
mails, The whole operation of supplying the ste-
reotype plates with a due quantity of ink, of cutting
i the paper into separate sheets of the requisite dimen-
sions, of printing it, first on one side and then on the
other, and of folding each sheet in a suitable manner,
is done by the machinery, without human interference.
The marks of design in the machine are not dimin-
ished, they are rather increased, by the circumstance
that no interference is required. The machine at pre-
i .
f- _sent used in the New York Tribune office does not put
R the supplement, in case one is printed, into the main
a sheet. That work must be done, if done at all, by
| hand. But they are now constructing a printing-press
a which will perform this additional task also, without
human aid. Who will say that this additional perfec-
tion in the machine lessens the evidences of design in
connection with the production of the newspaper?
__. This analogy, be it observed, is not intended to ilus-
trate the probable relation of the agency of God to
what we call second causes—as if He stood without, and
____ merely watched their operation. It is intended simply
~ to show that extraordinary interpositions are not ne-
cessary to the proof of design, and that the absence of
yt
ay
108 FAITH AND RATIONALISM.
such interferences raises no presumption on the side of
atheism. It is obvious that the more complete and in-
genious the mechanism in any invention of man, the
less need there is of special assistance in the working
tsi:
Proceeding now on the supposition that nature’s
method is that of evolution, the question is whether
the order that we behold, the cosmos, the manifold
examples of apparent adaptation of means to ends,
justify the impression, which has been made on the
generality of mankind in all ages, that the world was.
planned, or that forethought and design have been
exercised in the framing of it. Behind the instru-
mentalities, the efficient causes, or acting through them,
is there evidence of a directing intelligence? The
alternative of design is chance. But, confining our
attention for the moment, to the Darwinian theory,
it is impossible to refer the animal kingdom to the
agency of chance; quite as much so as on the old con-
ception of the radical distinction of species> “Phe
issue,” as Professor Gray correctly remarks, ‘ between
the sceptic and the theist is only the old one, long ago
argued out—namely, whether organic nature is a-
result of design or of chance. Variation and natural
selection open no third alternative; they concern only
the question how the results, whether fortuitous or
designed, may have been brought about. Organic
DESIGN OR CHANCE? ~~ 109
nature abounds with unmistakable and_ irresistible
indications of design, and, being a connected and con-
sistent system, this evidence carries the implication of
design throughout the whole. On the other hand,
: chance carries no probabilities with it, can never be
developed into a consistent system, but, when applied
to the explanation of orderly or beneficial results, heaps
up improbabilities at every step beyond all computa-
tion. To us, a fortuitous Cosmos is simply inconceiv-
able. The alternative is a designed Cosmos.’* That
4 i — the argument of design is not weakened by the Dar-
winian doctrine is thus illustrated by the same able
. naturalist: “All the facts about the eye, which con-
vinced him [the sceptic] that the organ was designed,
remain just as they were. His conviction was not
produced through testimony or eye-witness, but design
was irresistibly inferred from the evidence of design in
the eye itself. Now if the eye as it is, or has become,
so convincingly argued design, why not each particular
- step or part of this result? If the production of a per-
fect crystalline lens in the eye—you know not how—
as much indicated design as did the production of a
Be ~ Dollond achromatic lens—you understand how—then
_ why does not ‘ the swelling out’ of a particular portion
of the membrane behind the iris—caused you know
not how—which, by ‘correcting the errors of disper-
* Darwiniana, p. 158.
the audacity with which that omission is made; by the
circumstance that it fastens the mind upon sequence,
and thrusts aside and ignores the natural, the unavoid-
able aspect of provision. In every system or compages
of forces which issues in some particular result, any
one of the forces of which the whole is composed, is the
condition of the production of that result. In chemical
combination each separate item is the condition of the
whole. One pipe or one artery within the body, one.
* “ Les causes finales ne sont, en dépit de leur nom, que les effets
évidens, ou les conditions memes de Vexistence de chaque objet.”—
Revue Encuclopedique, vol. v., p. 231. “Cuvier seems to have
adopted the term in a sense not opposed to final causes.”—Owen’s
Comparative Anatomy, vol. iii., p. 787.
“QONDITIONS OF EXISTENCE.” 119
single ingredient in the air outside of it, is the condi-
tion of existence. But it is evident that an apparatus,
as one harmonious whole, stands in a different relation
toward the result which it produces, from that of one
or other single item of it; and that the relation of sine
qua non, though included in, is not the complete and
adequate expression of that aspect of the machinery as
a whole. That whole is naturally regarded by the
mind not only in this light, viz., that something follows
from it, but also in another light, viz., that it is con-
structed for something. We see a concurrent action
towards, as well as a sequence from; we see more than
conditions of existence,—we see a provision for exist-—
ence. The end does not simply come after the means,
but the means intend the end. But the formula—‘ Con-
ditions of Existence ’—will not recognize a consequence ;
only see the retrospective view, not the prospective.
It only sees in sentient life the upshot of the bodily
combinations, and discards the aspect of it as the end
and scope of them. ‘The formula, therefore, attains its
purpose by omission. Look only at a sequence, and
you will only see a sequence. Geoffrey St. Hilaire,
who carried the art of shutting the eyes toa high point
of philosophical perfection, applied a scientific culture
to this act of the mind. The point of view which he
constructed for the purpose of exactly cutting off the
approach of the proposition of common sense, reminds
10 FAITH AND RATIONALISM.
one of some skilful piece of military engineering, which —
projects the angle of a bastion in the direction which
cuts off the assault from one threatening quarter in the
country around; and is a curious specimen of the
dogged perversity of a man of genius when he does not
like one direction in which things are going, and
opposes to obtrusive evidence the science of not seeing.
‘Voir les fonctions d’abord, puis aprés les instrumens
qui les produisent, c’est renverser l’orde des idées,
Pour un naturaliste qui conclut d’apres leg faits, chaque
étre est sorti des mains du Oréateur, avec de propres
conditions matérielles: il peut, selon qu'il lui est attribué
de pouvoir: il emploie ses organes selon leur capacité
d'action.” * It is a misstatement, then, to say that the
advocates of design look at functions first, and at
* Prineipes de Philosophie Zoologique, p. 66. His illustration
against design is: “A raisonner de la sorte, vous diriez d’un homme
qui fait usage de béquilles, qu’il était ori ginairement destiné au mal-
heur d’avoir lune de ses jambes paralysée ou amputée.” It is,
however, a most gratuitous transposition of the final cause to fit the
man to the crutch, instead of what is much more obvious,—the
crutch to the man. We cannot but add, with reference to the defect
of logical training which these great scientific investigators some-
times show, that it is singular that Cuvier and St. Hilaire should
dispute over two hundred pages upon the identity of organs, e. g.,
whether the fore-hoof of an ox is exactly the ‘same otgan” with the
wing of a bat, without it occurring to either of them to ask, whether
they were using “identity ” in the same sense or using it in different
senses and different respects, 3 eee hs
~
, -
- “CONDITIONS OF EXISTENCE.” 121
instruments for the functions afterwards; what they do
is to look at both together, and argue from their con-
currence. But this, looking at them both, and looking
at them in concurrence, is what St. Hilaire prohibits ;
it is not our seeing one before the other, but seeing the
two in relation, which constitutes our offence. He will
not allow the instrument to be looked at as agreeing
with the work, but only at the work as necessarily
coming out of the instrument. That is his point of
view. Looking at the case, then, in this accurately
limited point of view, design is undoubtedly excluded.
Granted the construction of the instrument, the em-
ployment of it, or the function, does not flow from the
construction by design, but by necessity. The instru-
ment works, and works according to its make, and
according to its component parts. How can it work
otherwise? The function is the only action of which
the instrument is capable, and therefore is an unavoid-
able derivation for the instrument. But though, this
point of view granted, design is excluded, what right
has St. Hilaire to impose this point of view? On what
ground does he assert that the instrument works
according to its construction, and that that 1s all?
We say there is something besides the instrument
working according to its construction, viz, that the
instrument is constructed for its work; we assert this
on the ground of the plain agreement and coincidence
t
122 FAITH AND RATIONALISM.
of the two. St. Hilaire says you have no right to see
coincidence and correspondence; you have only the
right to see the work proceeding from the instrument;
you have no right to see the adaptation of the instru-
ment for the work; you are at liberty to perceive the
motion derived from the oars and sails; you are forbid-
den to discern the aptitudes of the oars and sails to pro-
duce the motion of the boat. But if there are two rela-
tions to be seen, why should we only see one of them ?”
All criticism of the methods of Nature, all accusa-
tions of a want of simplicity, or a want of benevo-
lence, in its arrangements, have no force as arguments
against the existence of an intelligent Creator. What- -
ever weight may be supposed to belong to such objec-
tions, pertains to them as bearing on the conception
that is to be formed of the attributes of God. From this
point of view, they are generally specimens of reason-
ing upon a vast system, of which material things form
only a part, and which is imperfectly comprehended. .
The force of the argument of design depends on the
assumption that man has a ‘soul, that he is a spirit,
personal and free. Materialists deny this. By others,
it is left doubtful. Professor Huxley, in his Essay on
Protoplasm, says: “What do we know of that-‘ ‘spirit’
over whose threatened extinction so great a lamentation
is arising . . . . except that”—like matter—
“ it is also the name for an unknown and hypothetical
MATTER AND SPIRIT. 7 es ies:
cause, or condition of states of consciousness ?”
“Matter and spirit are but names for the imaginary
substrata of the groups of natural phenomena.” That
is to say, self, the ego, is a “hypothetical,” “imaginary”
substratum of mental states. Here our knowledge
of matter and mind are put on a level. But of our-
selves we have undeniably a direct, immediate intui-
tion. It is far less unreasonable for one to be a Ber-
keleian, or even an idealist, than to question the reality
of himself as a substance, or personal subject. But,
following Hume, Professor Huxley calls in question the
fact of the intuition of self. Kant reached the same
conclusion on other grounds. But the cogito, ergo sum
of Des Cartes stands firm; not as a logical inference,
but as giving the condition of the intuitive idea, which
is the unassailable guaranty of the reality of the object
—the ego. As the personal subject is grammatically
involved in the cogito,so in the act of thought is
the reality of the thinker implied. If he knows that
he thinks, he knows that he exists. The existence of
the ego is as evident in consciousness as is the existence
of the thought. The thought is, and is known to be,
the act or state of the ego. The idea of mental
“phenomena” without mind, is as absurd as the idea
of luminosity without a thing that is luminous. I
know myself, as an entity, maintaining persistently its
identity; and I know myself as distinct from my
124 FAITH AND RATIONALISM. -
organism, from my heart, and lungs, and liver, and
brain, and the whole material system with which I am
connected.* It is granted that the “phenomena” are _
known to be toto genere distinct from those of the body
and of matter; desire, memory, love, hate, are abso-
lutely dissimilar to nerves and blood-vessels. The
substance of which these thoughts and feelings are the
manifestation 1s equally distinct. Dr. Tyndall has well
said: “Granted that a definite thought and a definite
molecular action in the brain occur simultaneously, we
do not possess the intellectual organ, nor, apparently,
any rudiment of the organ, which would enable us to
pass by a process of reasoning from one phenomenon
to the other. They appear together, but we do not
know why.” “The passage from the physics of the
brain to the corresponding facts of consciousness is —
unthinkable.” “ The problem of the connection of the
body and soul is as insoluble, as it was in the pre-
scientific ages.”+ To say that the soul is the body, or
a portion of the body, or a mere function of the body,
is, therefore, not only to make an -assertion of which
science can offer no proof; but it is to make an asser-
tion which consciousness repudiates as inconsistent —
with the intuition of self.
* Compare Mozley, Vol. IL., p. 368.
+ From the Address on the Methods and Tendencies of Physical
Investigation,
t J ‘,
Ay = pis 5 f are mi, i
= pee ee NS gs ee ee ene
SOS Se et Ce Pee eee Pe Lee ae ee ee
aM re
Behe whee
THE INTUITION OF SELF. 125
This recognition of our own personality is essential
_ to the due validity and impressiveness of the argument
of design, in two ways. It is the consciousness of my-
self as a free intelligence, adapting means to ends, that
raises in me the image of a higher Intelligence to whom
Iam like. Without this idea and norm within me, I
should neither have any conception of God as a Crea-
tor, nor any proof of His existence. Secondly, in man
there is presented a worthy end, towards which physi-
cal arrangements point; and thus completeness is given
to the argument of design. This last point is forci-
bly presented by the author from whom I have already
cited. Nothing but “the spiritual principle can give
that strong, pointed and masterly end of the physical
apparatus, which our reason wants in order to crown
that apparatus with design.” “It is only when we
come to man that an end in immediate connection with
an animal machinery shines forth with such overpower-
ing intrinsic evidence, and stands out in so conspicuous
and irresistible a light, that the completing stroke and
_ finish is given to the evidence of design. In man the
end is so distinctly superior to the machine, the end is
so clearly beyond the machine, that the argument
strikes home.” ‘Can any thing exceed the conviction
with which any man, when he really thinks of himself,
and thinks of his body, must say, This body exists for
the sake of me: I am its end, all this machinery is no-
“a \
126 FAITH AND RATIONALISM.
thing without myself as an explanation? A man can-
not rid himself of this sense of the object of his own
body, that it is for the sake of him—that personal self ;
of which he is conscious: the purpose clings to the ma-
chine, and cannot be parted from it. And, therefore,
inasmuch as he is a different thing from the machine,
he sees distinctly that this machine exists for an end
beyond itself, which is the coping-stone of the argu-
ment of design.” “Does not the great argument of
Paley derive its real pungency from the reader having
always, consciously or unconsciously, man in his mind —
in connection with the machinery of Nature? In the
description of the eye, he thinks of man, of himself,
who sees.” *
The atheism that rests in second causes, that traces
the world back to a collection of atoms, and there
halts, could not be more pointedly condemned than
in the words of the founder of the inductive phi-
losophy, who knew how to use without abusing the
truth of final causes. “It is true,” says Lord Bacon,
“that a little philosophy inclineth man’s mind to athe-
ism; but depth in philosophy bringeth men’s minds
about to religion. For while the mind of man looketh
upon second causes scattered, it may sometimes rest in
them, and go no further; but when it beholdeth the
chain of them, confederate and linked together, it must
* Mozley’s Essays, Vol. IL, p. 366 seq.
Ke
ay BACON ON A PHBISM.
is ie Avie to ahha tnd Dee Nay that school _ ;
Bye which is most accused of atheism doth most demon-
4 i strate religion; that is, the school of Leucippus and IG
5: De emocritus and Hpicurus. For itis athousand times __ so
om more credible that four mutable elements, and one im- _ os.
) iuitable fifth essence, duly and eternally placed, need a!
. no God, than that an army of infinite small portions | ns
“or seeds, unplaced, should have produced this order ee
and beauty without a divine marshal.’* ee. eg
*esayss xvi., of Atheism,
IV.
THE REASONABLENESS OF THE CHRISTIAN
DOCTRINE OF PRAYER.
Prayer, in its fundamental idea, is petition. It is so
described in the teaching of Christ (Matt. vii. 7 seq.,
Luke xi. 5 seq., xvii. 1 seq.). A child goes toa father
with a request for something. It is a perfectly natural
and reasonable act where there is dependence and want
on one side, and strength and the spirit of helpfulness
on the other. Nothing is more common than for men
to answer the prayers addressed to them. Sometimes
they will do this where there is no stronger motive
_than a desire to get rid of the suppliant. To represent
- God as moved by prayer to grant what He is asked to
give, does not imply that He is mutable in character,
but it implies the opposite. For the prayer is a new
fact. The sincere, filial uplooking to Him, which is
the root and essence of supplication, finds a fit response
in the bestowal of the good that is sought. If God
were eee in all respects, with the prayerful, as He
28
PRAYER. 129
deals with the prayerless, it would be treating the
humble and the self-sufficient, the good and the
~ evil, in all respects alike. This would not be un-
changeable goodness and justice, but would indicate
4 the absence of these qualities.
| Petition is always to be broadly distinguished from
demand or dictation. It may be granted or not, at
Bm ~- the option of the person addressed. In a family, there
are some requests which are certain to be complied
with. “What man is there of you if his son ask
a _ bread, will he give him a stone?” If a child asks for
moral direction, for light respecting matters of great
q - concern to him, or if he appeals for support in tempta-
tion or sorrow, no one with the heart of a father would
ever withhold the good sought. So in the Bible, the
promise of the Spirit of God is made, without qualifica-
~tion, to every one who petitions for this best gift for
himself (Luke xi. 13). As to a great variety of things
which children may ask of a parent, while the simple
fact of an innocent request produces an inclination to
comply with it, and thus tends to procure the good
sought, it is yet, of course, left to the discretion of the
parent to give or to withhold it. So of petitions to the
Heavenly Father. It may be for the real interest, if
not for the immediate gratification, of the petitioner to
have them denied. It rests with the perfect wisdom
and love of God to determine: ‘ Nevertheless, not my
6*
130 FAITH AND RATIONALISM.
will, but thine be done.” No one can say with cer-
tainty that it would be better for him to be rich than
to be poor, to escape from bereavement rather than to
suffer it, to have honor than to have reproach, to live
on to old age than to die young, etc. These are ques-
tions of probability, where human judgment may be
quite astray, and human preference may be unwise.
It requires omniscience to decide them infallibly. This
is true of a thousand things which may be suitable
objects of prayer.
There is a limit, however, to the proper objects of
petition. A father has a given system, certain known
principles, for the management of his household. It
would be wrong, as well as futile, to ask him to do
something which clashes with the wise and well-under-
stood method under which the affairs of the family are
conducted. A child who, perhaps, might properly ask
his father to change the hour of dinner, either perma-
nently, or on a particular day, might be guilty of dis-
respect if he were to request that all the meals of the
family should take place in the night-time. To ask for
a new article of furniture is one thing; to ask that the
house may be burned down is another. When the
head of a household has acquainted his family with the
arrangements, from which he chooses not to deviate, —
an enclosure is made within which, in all ordinary cir-
cumstances, petitions are out of place.
~
MEANS OF ANSWERING PRAYER. iio Al
Applying the analogy to God in His relation to men,
we find certain fixed arrangements in the constitution
of man and of the world, and we meet, in the course of
- events, with certain plain and decisive indications of
what the will of God is for the future. No reverent or
reasonable man would pray that the sun might rise at
midnight, that an apple-tree might bear fruit out of
_ doors in mid-winter, that a young child might have at
once the mental power and knowledge of a man, or
that certain invalids, in the last stages of mortal dis-
ease, might recover. There is virtually a declared
_ purpose of God to the contrary, as evident as if it were
expressed in words, upon the matter of these petitions.
_ They manifestly call for such a revolution in God’s
mode of governing the world as we have no right to
look for, under the ordinary circumstances of human
life.
— But it does not follow, because there is an appointed
order of things, that there is no space left for the
hearing and answering of prayer. There are channels
| open between God and the human soul. God is a
Person, and He does not withdraw Himself from con-
verse with His children. The divine Spirit can impart
light, guidance, courage, strength to resist temptation,
comfort in despondency, to the spirit of man. And
outward changes, within the sphere of material nature,
are largely dependent on human perceptions, feclings,
Bay ee FAITH AND RATIONALISM.
and volitions. Indirectly, thus, changes in the material
sphere may be effected by a divine influence on the
mind of man. The physician, the nurse, the sea-cap-
tain, the general, every human being who has the lives
and temporal interests of his fellow-men under his
charge, may be guided, enlightened, practically con-
trolled, by a divine influence exerted upon the mind in
response to supplication. Although there are laws of
mind as well as of matter, the reasonableness of prayer
for changes of the character just stated is compara-
tively seldom questioned. It is in respect to prayer
for purely physical changes, where material forces are
exclusively concerned, that the difficulty is chiefly felt.
It is sometimes said that to grant such prayers would
argue an inconsistency, or fickleness in God, who has
already established the course of Nature. It is, also,
urged that the course of Nature being fixed and uni-
form, no means are open for rendering answers to sup-
plications of this sort.
Before taking up this topic, it is well to notice a
preliminary objection which is sometimes raised on this
subject. It is said that an exact boundary cannot be
fixed between the provinces of Nature, where prayer, —
by common consent, is shut out—as the astronomic
system—and the sphere within which prayer is consid-
ered to have an influence. But here the analogy of
sthe family comes in, where the line of demarcation
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beyond which petitions to the parent are precluded by
unalterable arrangements may not always be correctly
defined by the children. The possibility of mistake in
this regard does not do away with the admitted fact
that there is a real distinction of the kind, and one
which is practically acted on. The circumstance that
there may be extravagant petitions does not prove that
there are none which are reasonable. Our belief in
the supernatural, and the expéctations dictated by it,
are modified by education. They are not extirpated,
but pruned and directed; in this respect resembling
the other faculties and tendencies of our nature. It is
so with regard to the belief in miracles. Once they
may have been expected on many occasions where now
they are not looked for. On this ground it would be
a rash and false conclusion that they are impossible, or
that, under given circumstances—as parts and proofs
of a Revelation—they are unlikely to occur.
The question whether prayer for physical changes is
answered is to be considered from the stand-point of
theism. On the pantheistic or atheistic assumption,
or on the plane of materialism, there is no room for
such adiscussion. If there is no God to answer prayer,
of course prayer will not be answered. An Epicu-
rean deity who stands aloof from the world, and is
indifferent to the wants of men, is equivalent, as
regards the present inquiry, to no God at all. We
134 FAITH AND RATIONALISM.
assume, on evidence which need not be recapitulated
here, that God is a Person, who is capable of entering
into communion with men, and of hearing their peti-
tions, and that He is merciful. But there are laws of
Nature, and the question is whether they constitute, .
for any reason, a barrier in the way of His responding
to these petitions. It is altogether a mistake, we may
add, to suppose that the existence of natural laws and
a natural order is a modern discovery. ‘The idea of
‘the tree yielding fruit after his kind whose seed is in
itself” is in the beginning of Genesis; the uniform
movement of the tides and of the heavenly bodies, and
the regular processes of animal life, are the subject of
sublime passages in Job; the constant procession of
Nature in seed-time and harvest, in day and night, is
recognized throughout the Scriptures. The ascription
of natural phenomena to God’s agency, and belief in
supernatural interpositions, did not exclude a belief,
likewise, in natural laws. In fact, this belief- was
implied in the idea of a miracle. But, to return to
the point, what to a theist is natural law? Law
is not a being; it is an abstraction. It is a term
for expressing the uniformity of the sequences
of Nature. Law is another name for invariable
succession. ire, brought into contact with a
certain class of material things, burns; not once,
or twice, but always. The conditions being the
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THE ORDER OF NATURE. 135
same, the same effect follows. This, we say, is a law.
But theism holds not only that law is no agent, but
that agency, so far as it belongs to objects in Nature,
is dependent upon, and either immediately or ultimate-
ly derived from, the Creator and Preserver of Nature.
Law signifies His plan of acting, or the plan which the
living God ordains for the action of the forces of
matter. That there is an order of Nature, the theist
fully recognizes. Indeed, from this order—as far as
the evidence from Nature is concerned—he derives his
proof that God is an intelligent being. The wisdom of
instituting such an order, on which all our anticipa-
tions of the future rest, is too obvious to be denied by
anybody. The theist holds, however, that Nature has
not its end in itself, is not for its own sake. The
whole end of the visible creation it-is beyond our pow-
er to ascertain ; but one end is the well-being of man.
To man the lower orders of being point. No sanctity
belongs to the laws of external Nature, as such. They
are a method adapted for an end beyond themselves.
They are a part of a more extensive order, which em-
braces moral and spiritual being, and can only be
imperfectly comprehended. If any of the foregoing
propositions are disputed, the controversy lies back of
the question now before us. It pertains to the grounds
of theism.
Now to assert that God cannot answer prayer for
136 FAITH AND RATIONALISM.
physical changes—cannot, if He will—is to assert what
it is impossible to prove. He who remembers our very
limited knowledge of Nature,—how much we have to
learn, notwithstanding the remarkable progress of na-
tural science in recent days; who is sensible, too, that
we are in the dark as to the modus operandi of God in
His relation to Nature, will be slow to limit thus the
resources of omnipotence.
But there are ways in which we can conceive that
prayers for physical changes may be answered. I dis-
miss, at the outset, the idea that the benefit of prayer
is purely reflex, as if it were a spiritual’ gymnastic
having its whole effect on the mind of the suppliant.
No one can offer a real prayer on such a theory; for
the subjective benefit from it, whatever that may be, is
conditioned on the belief in its objective efficacy.
Schieiermacher’s idea that prayer answers itself by ope.
rating, as a cause among causes, producing its own ful-
filment, and a similar suggestion of Chalmers—which,
however, is not given as his own opinion—that there —
may be conceivably a subtle tie of connection between
the prayer and its answer, in the domain of second
causes, are liable to the same objection. Under such a
view, prayer ceases to be a bona fide petition. More-
over, no room, apparently, is left for the exercise of
discretion as to granting or denying it.
There are two ways, at least, in which it may be
‘PRAYER FOR PHYSICAL CHANGES. Ty.
conceived that prayers for physical changes are com-
pled with.
The first assumes a pre-arranged harmony between
the prayer and the answer provided for it. Both had
their place—the one as a free act of man, the other as
a physical change ordained to correspond to it—in the
plan of the world. ‘The train of causes is set at the be-
ginning, in the foreknowledge of the petition to be of-
fered, for the evolving of an appropriate response. No
interposition is required. The reign of law is undis-
turbed.* Itis felt by many to be an objection to this
view that if nothing is to occur except what causes al-
ready in operation virtually contain, it scems like
praying about what is past and beyond recall.
The second view is that, in answering prayer, God
“may interpose, not manifestly as in the case of a
miracle, but, by the control which He exercises over the
laws of Nature, may modify the effect of their action.
That such power belongs to God no one who believes
in Him will think of questioning. A like power, in a
less degree, belongs to men. It is exerted every time
one raises his arm by an act of will. It is exerted
whenever a man pumps water out of a well. The
~ initial force is in his volition; the effect is a phenome-
non that would not have occurred, independently of
that new, and—as regards material nature—supernatu-
~* See McCosh’s Method of the Divine Government, p. 0
138 FAITH AND RATIONALISM.
ral antecedent. Yet it is through the instrumentality |
of Nature and of its laws that the human will pro-
duces these new effects. All that is included under
the term Art, all the works and contrivances of man-
kind, spring from such interpositions of the human-
will, which produce through the medium of natural
forces new products. The botanist and the cattle-
breeder exert an almost creative power, not by coun-
teracting the laws of nature, but by using and
directing them. If, it has been well said, Professor
Espy can cause a shower of rain, God can. If, nature~
is thus plastic in the hands of the creature, how much
more in the hands of the Creator! What we call the
course of Nature is the will of God acting systemati-
cally, either as the sole efficient, or through the inter-
mediary agency of second causes. On either hypo-
thesis it is easy to suppose a new influx of energy from
the primal source of power, or a new combination in
the occult laboratory of Nature, which shall modify, in
a corresponding degree, visible phenomena.
Such an act of God need produce no variation in
the sequences of phenomena so far as they are cogni-
zable by man. The modification of causes may take
place back of all proximate forces, in a region which
science cannot penetrate; for science does not pretend
to follow phenomena back to their ultimate antece-
dents. There is a curtain which is soon reached,
THE UNIFORMITY OF NATURE. 139
through which human observation cannot pierce. The
intervention of Deity is out of sight, among the
remoter forces that are nearer the primitive fountain
of power in Himself Chalmers illustrates this view
_ by showing how a prayer for a prosperous voyage may
be answered without any violation of established
sequences so far as they fall under human observation.
God causes a wind to arise; but this was by the
condensation of vapor, according to the natural law.
The vapor was raised by the action of heat, the
natural process. Carry these explanations to the
uttermost limits to which science can push its observa-
tions, all might move in strictly undeviating order.
But ulterior to this there is a “deep and dark abyss
between the furthest reach of man’s discovery, and the
forthgoings of God’s will,” where the finger of the
Almighty touches the mechanism of the world.*
It is worth while to stop and inquire, what precisely
is meant by the uniformity of Nature? It is not
meant that the phenomena which we now witness have
always existed, or will always exist in the future. It
is not supposed that the sun has always risen and set,
as is the fact at present; and it would be impossible to
prove, if any one believes, that the sun will continue
to rise and set to all eternity in the future. What is
the history of Nature but a record of perpetual
* Natural Theology, Vol. II., p. 339.
140 FAITH AND RATIONALISM.
changes—new beings, new phenomena, and -new collo-
cations of phenomena, presenting themselves on the
scene. ‘To this extent, our expectation that the future
will be like the past is subject to qualification.
No doubt, we believe that the same assemblage of
antecedents will be followed by the same consequent.
That is to say, there are laws of Nature. On this
assumption, inductive reasoning is founded. It would
be a flagrant violation of logic, however, to infer that
miracles have never occurred. A miracle, as Mr. Mill
has remarked, supposes the introduction of a new
antecedent, the volition of God; and the presence or
absence of the antecedent is shown by the effect pro-
duced. If this effect surpass that which the physical
antecedents have been shown by experience to be capa-
ble of producing, the new antecedent must be pre-
supposed. Now Nature is not uniform in the sense.
that miracles have not occurred, or in the sense that
they may not, if God so will, occur hereafter. An epl- 4
leptic son, who had been afflicted with this terrible — 3
disorder from childhood, was brought by his father to
Jesus, and was immediately cured by Him (Mark ix.
17-28). This is a perfectly well-attested historical
fact. Disbelieve it (and other like facts in connection _
with it), and you cannot account for the existence of
the Christian Church, a fact not less substantial and .
stupendous than the solar system. Generally speak-
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THE HOSPITAL-TEST. 141
ing, answers to prayer, on the view presented above,
lack one element of a miracle; the supernatural inter-
position is not manifest, palpable to the senses. But
the cause is the same, and the effect, viz., a modifica-
tion of the course of Nature, is the same. Can a
theist suppose that such interpositions are not possible?
To say that God is put in fetters by natural law, which
is only His own habitual procedure, is to make Him
a slave to habit. If He “makes the rain to fall,” He
can send it or withhold it, as He deems best. Nature
is flexible in His hand. The distinction of the natural
and the supernatural is made for certain purposes; but
the natural 7s supernatural.
It is said that, as a matter of fact, prayers for
physical changes are not answered. Whether they
could be or not, it is said that, in point of fact,
they are not. But this assertion stands without
proof.
It has been proposed to test the efficacy of prayer
for the recovery of the sick by experiments in a hospi-
tal. This is the so-called “ prayer-gauge.” This would
be to test the benevolence of a Ruler or Benefactor—or
one thought to be such—by bringing to him petitions
to see whether he would grant them or not. This ex-
periment would be apt to fail of its end if it were tried
even upon a man reported to be goodand kind. The
proper quality of prayer, that it shall be heart-felt
142 FAITH AND RATIONALISM.
petition, offered in faith, and having no ulterior motive
beyond a desire of the good sought, is wanting. The
experiment is vitiated from the start by a disregard of
the conditions essential to the idea of true prayer.
Another difficulty with the hospital-test is that such an
experiment, independently of the objection just named,
would be an utterly insufficient basis for an induction
relative to the utility of prayer. Prayer does not
operate like a natural force. If fire burns once, on the
principle of the uniformity of Nature we infer that it
will burn again, and as often as the experiment is
repeated. But petitions do not act with this invariable
eficiency. There may be reasons why they should be
granted here, and denied there. The materials for
induction are complex, and scattered over a vast area.
Besides, they are not of a nature to be tested in the
crucible, or weighed in the balance. Who can judge
of the character. of a particular suppliant, and estimate
the degree of likelihood that he will be heard? It
must be confessed that the crude attempt to apply an
experimental test to devotion has its parallel in the
practice of those who undertake to demonstrate the
efficacy of prayer by special instances, where none of
the criteria of logical induction—such a& discrimina-
tion between effects and coincidences, or the impar-
tial gathering of facts in a sufficient number—are
present. A man may be convinced for himself, and
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GROUNDS FOR FAITH IN PRAYER. 143
on sufficient grounds, of “the unbounded might” * of
prayer, when the means of logically establishing the
fact to the satisfaction of another are not at hand.
To avoid the objections to the “hospital-test,” it has
been proposed to appeal to statistics, and to inquire
whether facts gathered from observation warrant the
conclusion that supplications for long life have had an
effect. But here the circumstances are so complicated
as to baffle calculation. If prayer for long life tends to
produce longevity, it is only one out of various causes
which may go to determine the result. Prayers are
offered by religious men for others not less than for
themselves. Good men do not always pray for long
life. The elements of a statistical estimate, then, are
wanting. The phenomena are not observable to such
an extent and in such form as to furnish a basis for an
inductive conclusion. Science does not contradict
faith; but it is impracticable to resolve faith into
science.
If it is possible for God to answer prayers, even for
physical changes, and if there is no proof that He does
not, what reason is there for believing that He will?
The first is that prayer has the same foundation in hu-
man nature that religion has, of which it forms an es-
* From Wordsworth’s Excursion, b. i.
+ This is clearly set forth by an ingenious writer, Mr. G. J.
Romanes, Christian Prayer and General Laws, etc., p. 259.
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444 FAITH AND RATIONALISM. =
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sential part. There is a well-nigh irrepressible instinct Ee
which impels men to call upon the Author and Ruler
of the world, the Father of the spirits of all flesh, fa
help, and for deliverance in trouble. They believe that _
He can meet their need, even if they cannot tell hows
and sooner than give up this faith, they will suspect, —
if they cannot detect, fallacies in fine-spun arguments
to prove the contrary. The second reason is the au-
thority of Revelation. Prayer is there encouraged by
injunction and example. The lordship of God over |
material Nature is declared in tones that carry convic- ae
tion to the soul, and is demonstrated by miracle, | a
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V.
JESUS WAS NOT A RELIGIOUS ENTHUSIAST.
Those who disbelieve in the supernatural mission
and authority of Christ can do so at present only by
assuming that He was a religious Enthusiast. It is no
longer pretended, as it was by some of those about
Him, that He was a “deceiver” (Matt. xxvii 63, -
John vii. 12.) He was either the self-deluded victim of
his own imagination, or He was in truth the Son of
God, sent by the Father, having “power on earth to
forgive sins” (Matt. ix. 6).
All who gave credence to the record of His miracles
are thereby precluded from disbelieving in Him. This
record cannot be set aside without our involving our-
selves in a labyrinth of historical perplexities from
which there are no means of escape. How shall we
explain the existence of the record? How shall
we divide the miracles from the teaching which
is obviously authentic, and has them for its sub-
ject or occasion? What could have moved the disci-
ples to accept Him as Messiah without the expected
7 145
Peal i 18) FAITH AND RATIONALISM.
and proper signs of Messianic office, especially when
their national and political aspirations were utterly
disappointed ?
But apart from the miracles, the character and cir-
cumstances of Jesus are inconsistent with the idea that
he was an Enthusiast, elated and bewildered by the
dreams of fancy. ; .
1. Self-searching was inevitable in the situation wn
which He was placed. The question who He was, and
whether there was any ground for His claims, was con- -
stantly brought home to Him. Was it reasonable to
believe in. Him—the same question that is agitated
now, was agitated by everybody near Him. There
were different opinions. His own kinsmen at first did
not believe in Him. His townsmen were sceptical as
to His claims. Some people said that he was in a
league with Satan, and got help from him. The influ-
ential classes were mostly incredulous and_ hostile;
and their influence was great among the common peo-
ple. Many were perplexed, and knew not what to
think. ‘The question respecting Himself was thus per-
petually thrust upon His attention. But He showed
no disposition to shun the inquiry, or to escape from
self-scrutiny. We find Him, in the calmest manner
possible, asking His disciples whom the people took
Him to be. Having been told what the different sup-
positions were, He goes on to interrogate them as to
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JESUS NOT AN ENTHUSIAST. 147
their own idea of Him: “ Whom say ye that Iam?”
(Matt. xvi. 15). Then we find Him predicting that
His adherents, even His chosen disciples, will be
moved to desert Him. Nothing was wanting in His
circumstances to call out misgivings in His own mind,
had there been any ground for them.
2. The sobriety of His conviction respecting Himself
is made manifest wm the ordeal through which He
passed in His trial and crucifixion. When He is
forsaken by all, will not His confidence in Himself
waver? Will He not see now that He is not what
He thought Himself to be? Mark His demeanor!
Carried from one priest to another, and from priest to
governor, from Pilate to Herod, and back again to
Pilate, He “answers not a word.” Is this because
there is a doubt of Himself? No: He breaks silence
to avow to the High Priest that He is in truth the
Son of God; and to explain to the Roman Procurator,
that, though a King, His kingdom was not one that
could possibly involve rebellion against the civil autho-
rity. The look which He cast upon Peter, a look of
sad rebuke, implied an unshaken confidence in the
truth of all His claims, at the very moment when they .
were the object of all sorts of contempt and ridicule,
and were bringing upon Him a violent death at the
hands of the authorities of His nation. The few words
to the thief at His side on the cross, the prayer for the
148 FAITH AND RATIONALISM.
fanatics who were destroying Him, His last words
commending His departing spirit to the Father, in-
volve the same undoubting consciousness of His excep-
tional character and office among men, which had
attended Him at every moment of His career. It was
a terrible test for pretensions that rested on fancy.
In the fire of it, one would have supposed that they —
must shrivel away; that, if never before, He must
have been exposed to Himself, and have seen through
Himself.
38. The holy character of Christ excludes the suppo-
sition of religious enthusiasm. Self-exaggeration, even
when it takes the form of enthusiasm, springs out of a
root of moral evil. It has its ultimate origin in self-
seeking. As Jesus Himself said: If the eye be single,
the whole body will be full of light; a man will know
himself. Hence enthusiasm, if balked in its aims, will
often assume the form of conscious ambition, or turn
into knavery. This is seen in popular leaders, like
Mohammed, who begin as enthusiasts, but end worse
than they began. The enormous self-delusion implied
in the exalted pretensions of Jesus, in case they were
not founded in truth, would have broken up the sobri-
ety of His spirit, and deranged the harmony of His
character. The safeguard against self-deception is
thorough moral rectitude, by which all unhealthy and
unreasonable self-exaltation is kept out. It is clear
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JESUS NOT AN ENTHUSIAST. 149
that the absolute purity and humility of Jesus ensure
the truthfulness of His estimate of Himself.
4, [His anticipations respecting the effect of His work,
as the event has proved, were not enthusiastic. What
He said of the “much fruit” that would follow if the
corn of wheat should fall into the ground, and die (John
xii. 24), has been verified. He was in truth lifted up
to draw all men unto Him. He was the founder of a
unique and. mighty kingdom, to which history affords
no parallel, as He foresaw just at the moment when He
stood alone, mocked, and scourged, and crowned with
thorns, with a reed placed in His hand for a sceptre.
None of the wise men of the world at that moment
would have given the slightest credit to His prediction
of the consequences of His work and of His death.
They would have disregarded them as a ridiculous,
hypocritical boast, or a madman’s dream. But history
has pronounced its verdict, and that verdict is that
they corresponded to the coming reality. Was it
intoxicated imagination, then, that governed him? or
was it the calmest, the truest, the profoundest wisdom?
Was that consciousness a nest of delusive fancies
respecting Himself, or was it a clear, just perception of
what He really was, and of the work which God had
given Him to do?
VI.
THE MORAL AND SPIRITUAL ELEMENTS IN
THE ATONEMENT.
The problem of the Atonement is to determine how
the work of Christ influences God to forgive sin. How
does it move Him to receive back into His fellowship
and favor those who, notwithstanding their guilt for
the past, and their remaining sin, betake themselves to
Christ, cordially avail themselves of His intercession,
and give themselves up to Him to be moulded in His
image? The effect on the mind of God, especially on
the retributive feeling in His nature, which stands in
the way of the practical exercise of mercy, is the
question of main difficulty.
Some of the ideas of President Edwards on this sub-
ject are of deep interest, and merit more attention than
they have ever received.* My object is not to present
his entire view, some parts of which are more open to
criticism than others, but to set forth briefly certain
leading points in his discussion.
* They are in his “ Miscellaneous Remarks,” ete., Dwight’s ed.,
V ol V LT
150
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EDWARDS ON THE ATONEMENT. 151
Where there is sin, something of the nature of com-
pensation is required; either punishment, or a repent-
ance, humiliation, and sorrow which are proportionate
to the guilt incurred. This fitness of punishment (or
of an equivalent repentance) is founded on the abhor-
rence and indignation which sin necessarily excites.
Since punishment is a part of the fitness of things, is
the correlate of ill-desert, the justice of God obliges
Him to inflict it. Edwards explains the significance
of punishment as consisting in the contradiction af-
forded by it to the implied language of sin, which is
that God is not worthy to be respected and obeyed.
Here there is some resemblance to suggestive remarks
of Anselm respecting the proof of subjection to God,
which the transgressor in suffering punishment in-
voluntarily affords. Anselm speaks of God, and His
will. Applying his idea to the law, we might say that
the transgressor does not escape from its grasp by the
revolt of his will against it. The law, cast off as a
precept, lays hold of him with its punitive clutch.
He flies from one side to the other, but the horizon
ever surrounds him. No repentance answerable to the
guilt of sin is possible to men. The reason of this,
according to Edwards, is the infinite guilt of sin, as
committed against an infinite being. Those who are
not satisfied with this idea of the infinitude of guilt,
might, perhaps, prefer to rest the impossibility of ade-
152 FAITH AND RATIONALISM.
quate repentance on other grounds,—as the power of
sinful habit partially to benumb conscience and para-
lyze the will.
Let the case be supposed of an enormous and long-
continued wrong committed against me by another;
‘though at length he should leave it off, I should not
forgive him, unless upon Gospel considerations.”
But suppose an Intercessor comes forward, (1) a
dearer friend to me, (2) always true and constant to
me, (3) a near relation of the offender, and (4) under-
goes hard labors and difficulties, pains and miseries to
procure him forgiveness; and (5) the offender seeks
favor in his name, flies to him, and is sensible how
much the mediator has done and suffered, I should be
satisfied and be inclined to receive him back to friend- -
ship.
The Intercessor may be called the Patron, the
offender the Client, and the offended party the Friend
of the patron. Merit is anything in one that recom-
mends him to another’s esteem, regard or affection.
It is reasonable to show respect or grant favors to
one on account of his services to, or connection with,
another. The stricter the union, the more does it pre-
vail to the acceptance of the person, for the sake of
him to whom he is united. There are many familiar
illustrations of this law or principle of our nature. If
the union be such that the two can be taken as com-
a aes
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EDWARDS ON THE ATONEMENT. 193
pletely one and the same, as to the interest of the
client in relation to the patron, the patron may be
taken as the substitute of the client, and the merits of
the client may be imputed to him.
What degree of union is complete? When the
patron is willing to take the client's destruction on
himself, or what is equivalent to that, so that the client
may escape: who is thus willing for the reason that his
love puts him into the place of the client. Such love
takes in the client’s whole interest, is an equal balance
for it, puts him thoroughly in the client's stead. Their
interest becomes identical.
Especially is the client’s welfare regarded for the
patron’s sake, when the patron expresses his desire for
the client's welfare by being at the expense of his own
personal and private welfare for the welfare of the
client. The interest in the good expended is trans-
ferred into the good sought. The good of the price is
parted with, for the good of the thing purchased :
a proper substitution of one in the place of the other.
Especially, again, is the client’s welfare regarded for
the patron’s sake, if the patron not only expresses
his desires of the client’s welfare, and that what is ex-
pended for him be given to him; but if, also, the merit
of the patron consists and appears in what he does for
the client’s welfare—if his merit has its existence for
the sake of the clrent.
154 FAITH AND_RATIONALISM.
It is still more rational to accept the patron’s merit
if he goes where the client is, clothes himself in his
form, is made like him in all respects, etc..—his own
merit, it being carefully observed, remaining all the
while inviolable.
The union of the patron and client must not infringe
on two things,—the patron’s union with the friend
whose favor'he seeks for the client, and the patron’s
own merit. For his recommending influence is in two
things: (1) his merit, and (2) his union with the client.
The patron must appear united to his unworthy and
offending client, under such circumstances as to demon-
strate that he perfectly disapproves of the offence, and
to show a perfect regard to virtue, and to the honor
and dignity of his offended, injured friend.
This can be done in no way so thoroughly as by put-
ting himself in the stead of the offender, under the vio-
lated law and rule of righteousness, and suffering the
whole penalty due to the offender, and by himself, un-
der such self-denial, honoring those violated rights and
rules. Hereby he gives testimony to all beholders that,
notwithstanding his love to his client, he would rather
deny himself so greatly rather than see the welfare,
authority, honor, and dignity of his friend, diminished
or degraded.
If the dignity of the patron, taken in connection with
his friend’s regard for him, and his union to the client,
eee.
a,
EDWARDS ON THE ATONEMENT. 155
|
countervail the favor which the client needs, then there
is a sufficiency in the patron to be the representative
and substitute of the client.
If the patron and client are equals as to greatness of
being or degree of existence, and the patron is so unit-
ed with the client that he regards the interest of the
client equally with his own personal interest, then his
client’s welfare becomes perfectly, and to all intents and
purposes, his own interest, as much as his own personal
welfare; and his friend will regard the client's welfare
in an equal degree with the patron’s welfare.
If the patron is greater than the client, then a less
degree of union has the same effect on the friend.
Such a union may most fitly and aptly be represent-
ed by the client’s being taken by the patron to be a
part or member of himself, as though he were a mem-
ber of his body.
When the suffering of the patron for the client is
equal in value or weight to the client’s suffering, con-
sidering the difference of the degree of persons, it shows
that the love to the client is equal or equivalent to his
love to himself, according to the different degree of the
persons.
The client must actively and cordially concur in the
affair. There must be towards the patron the feelings
and acts appropriate to this relation; he must cleave
to him, commit his cause to him, trust in him, approv-
156 FAITH AND RATIONALISM.
ing of his friendship, kind undertaking and patronage;
also, he must feel an approbation of the patron’s union
to his friend, whose favor he seeks; also, an approba-
tion of the benefits which ‘the patron seeks of his friend
for the client.
‘The mediator must unite Himself to God and man ;
or, as it were, assume them both to Himself But if
He unites Himself to guilty men, of necessity, He
brings their guilt—i. e. exposedness to penal evil—on
Himself; He must take the rebel’s sufferings on Him-
self, “because otherwise His undertaking for, and unit-—
ung himself to such an one, will appear like counte-
nancing his offence and rebellion.” If He takes it up- |
on Himself to bear the penalty, He quite takes off this
appearance.
Christ suffered the wrath of God for men’s sins in
such a way as a perfectly holy person would who knew
that God was not angry with him personally, but loved
him. Christ bore the wrath of God in two ways: 1,
He had a clear sight of the wrath of God against the —
sins of men, and the punishment they deserved. 2.
He endured the effects of that wrath.
Without the sight of the odiousness of sin and the
dreadfulness of punishment, He could not know how
great a benefit He procured for them in redeeming
them from this punishment. He had this sight, be-
cause sin fully revealed its odiousness in murdering the
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EDWARDS ON THE ATONEMENT. 157
Son of God, and everything in the circumstances of
His last suffering was adapted to heighten this impres-
sion. This view of sin was, to Christ, a most painful
sensation; it was immense suffering, not being bal-
anced or neutralized by other feelings of an opposite
nature; since God forsook Him, 2. ¢., took away these
feelings. So Christ bare our sins, and, also, suffered
wrath, or had a sense of the dreadfulness of the pun-
ishment of sin. ‘A very strong and lively love and
pity towards the miserable, tends to make their case
ours; as in other respects, so in this in particular, as
it doth in our idea place us in their stead, under their
misery, with a most lively sense of the feeling of that
misery; as it were, feeling it for them, actually suffer-
ing in their stead by strong sympathy.”
Christ was sanctified in His last suffering; first, as
He had a great sense of the odiousness of sin, and,
secondly, as He had that experience of the bitter fruit
and consequence of it. Moreover, He was then in the
exercise of the highest act of obedience or holiness,
which tended to increase the principle. This suffering
“added to the finite holiness of the human nature of
Christ.” It was like fire which increased the precious-
ness of the gold, though it burned away no dross.
Christ endured the effects of the wrath of God. Satan
and wicked men were left free—‘ let loose —to inflict
upon Him pain. God forsook Him; 1. ¢., withheld
158 FAITH AND RATIONALISM.
pleasant ideas and manifestations of His love, Ghrist, — 9am
_ thus tasted in His inward experience the terror and dis-
may of souls forsaken of God, though Himself con-
sciously free from guilt.
I remark upon these statements of Edwards:
1. Christ is first presented in them in the character’
of an Intercessor. Nor is this conception entirely
dropped out of mind in the process of the discussion.
As a prerequisite to this office, He must enter fully into
the mind of the offended party, as well as the distress of
the party offending. This absolute sympathy, or iden-
tification of Himself in feeling, with both parties, is
necessary to qualify Him to intercede. Without it,
His intercessions would not be intelligent on His own
part, or acceptable, and prevailing.
2. The sympathy of Christ with God and with man, the
offended One and the offender, was perfected by means
of His death. Then and thereby it attained to its
consummation. Then He understood fully what guilt
involves; He appreciated both the holy resentment of
God, and the criminality and forlorn situation of
man. We do not depart from the spirit of Edwards's
teaching, if we say that the prayer of Christ for His
enemies, on the cross, emanated from a state of mind
that absolutely meets the conditions of acceptable in-
tercession.
3. The substitution of Christ was primarily in His 2
EDWARDS ON THE ATONEMENT. 159
own heart. It was love, which comes under another’s
burden, makes another’s suffering lot its own, lays aside
self, as it were, and becomes another. ‘This ,inward
substitution led to, and was completed in, the final act
of self-sacrifice.
4, By His voluntary submission to death, Christ
signified His absolute approval of the righteousness of
the law, on its penal, as well as its preceptive side. He
gave the strongest possible proof of His sense of the
justice of the divine administration in the allotment of
death to the sinner. Being among men, and one of
them, He honored and sanctioned the law both by
keeping it, by overcoming temptation, and also, by
sharing, without a murmur, in the righteous penalty
which He had not personally incurred.
The originality and attractiveness of Edwards's dis-
cussion lies in the circumstance that it is an attempt to
find the moral and spiritual elements of the Atonement,
and thus unfold its rationale. It isnot in the quantity
of the Saviour’s suffering alone, but in the sources and
meaning of it, that he is interested. While holding
that Christ suffered the penalty of sin, Edwards not
only carefully excludes the idea that He was in con-
sciousness, or in fact, an object of wrath; but he dwells
also upon those spiritual perceptions and experiences
which gave significance to the pain which He endured.
160 FAITH AND RATIONALISM.
Dr. J. McLeod Campbell, in a treatise on the Atone-
ment, which for its depth and religious earnestness
has commanded general respect, starts with the alter-
native of Edwards, that sin must be followed by punish-
ment, or by an adequate repentance. Discarding the ©
idea that the Atonement is the bearing of the penalty,
he regards it as an adequate repentance effected in the
consciousness of Christ, the ingredient of personal
remorse being absent, but all the spiritual elements
being present which Edwards finds in the experience of
Christ. Christ made an expiatory confession of our
sins, which was “a perfect Amen in humanity to the
judgment of God on the sin of man.” * Faith is our
“Amen” to this condemnation in the soul of Christ.
Christ enters fully into the mind of God respecting
sin; into His condemnation of it, and into His love
to the sinner. There was “the equivalent repentance”
which Edwards makes the alternative of punishment.
With this, sanctioned, reproduced in its essential ele-
ments, in the believer, through his connection with
Christ, God is satisfied.
Dr. Campbell goes beyond the Moral View of the —
Atonement. He makes the death of Christ necessary
to the realization by Him of God’s feeling and man’s
need. Without “the perfected experience of the en-
mity of the carnal mind to God,” “an adequate con-
* The Nature of the Atonement, etc., 3d ed., p. 186.
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CAMPBELL ON THE ATONEMENT. 161
fession of man’s sin” could not have “ been offered to
God in humanity in expiation of man’s sin, nor inter-
cession have been made according to the extent of
man’s need of forgiveness.” * Moreover, it is declared -
that Christ endured, and that it was necessary to the
development of His inward experience that He should
endure, death, under a sense of its character as “ the
wages of sin.” “As our Lord alone truly tasted death,
so to Him alone had death its perfect meaning as the
wages of sin, for in Him alone was there full entrance
into the mind of God towards sin, and perfect unity
with that mind.” + Christ, as being alone holy, could
alone understand, and duly feel, what the forfeiting of
life means. If men were mere spirits, a response to
the divine mind concerning sin could only have had
spiritual elements; but man being capable of death,
and death being the wages of sin, it was not simply sin
that had to be dealt with, but “an existing law with
its penalty of death, and that death as already in-
curred.” Hence a response was necessary to “that
expression of the divine mind which was contained in
God’s making death the penalty of sin.” { The cha-
racteristic of Campbell’s view is that suffering as such,
he regards as of no account, but suffering and death
are necessary as a conditio sine qua non of that enter-
ing into the mind of God—that expiatory confession—
P2389. 7 P. 302. ft P. 303,
162 FAITH AND RATIONALISM.
which he considers the moral essence of the Atonement.
Yet, it will be observed that, according to this repre-
sentation Christ endures death, and with a vivid, pain-
ful, complete consciousness of the penal quality that
belongs to it. How could this death come nearer to
being identical with penalty, save by the introduction
of an element of personal remorse or self-accusation,
which Edwards equally excludes ?
I make one further criticism upon Campbell. He
brings out with great force and impressiveness the
significance of the Saviour’s intercessory prayer on the
eross, with the confession of human guilt implied in it,
as a full revelation of the righteous displeasure of God
against sin, and at the same time, of His love and
merciful inclination towards the sinner, which are pre-
supposed in that supplication. There is a revelation
of God’s holy anger and His mercy; involving, to be
sure, intense suffering in Him through whom it is
made, in the act of making it. I am not certain that
Campbell would confine the value of this confession
and prayer of Christ to their significance as a revelation
of God’s mind, which we can lay hold of, and respond
to with humble, grateful hearts. This, however, is the
predominant representation in the treatise. Why not
consider the supplication of Christ as, also, a real
means of procuring the good sought? Why not consider
the actual bestowal of grace—not the disposition to be-
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LUTHER ON THE ATONEMENT. 163
stow it—as consequent on the intercession? The in-
tercession presupposes, indeed, that God is merciful;
but so does all prayer. And yet the idea of prayer
is nullified if we do not hold that it procures, or
tends to procure, a good not otherwise to be ex-
pected.
Those who have read Luther’s Commentary on the
- Galatians will remember how earnestly he insists on
the truth of Christ’s unification of Himself with us,
-and of the unification of ourselves with Him through
faith. In all the writings of Luther which bear on the
subject, the same thought is prominent. Amid impor-
tant diversities, there is yet a fundamental resemblance
between his conception of the moral and spiritual ele-
- ments of the Atonement, and that of Edwards. As
regards what is conceived to have taken place in the
soul of Christ, the two theologians have much in com-
mon. Dorner has clearly set forth Luther's ideas on
- this theme.* The soul of the Reformer entered deeply
into the crushing feeling of guilt, as distinguished from
that of misery or finite weakness. In this feeling, we
first appreciate our unworthiness, but at the same time
understand the value of our personality in the eyes of
God. The longing for expiation or atonement involves
- the first pure ethical impulse. Conscious of our help-
lessness, our inability to make an atonement ourselves,
* Lehre y. d. Person Christi, i1. 513 seq.
164 _ FAITH AND RATIONALISM.
we are met by the joyful tidings of a Mediator, sent 3
from God, and of a righteousness in Him, which cor-.
responds to the divine righteousness. This righteous-
ness, although, in the first instance it is His, may also
become ours through faith; faith being the personal
assent and affirmation which we give to that Love on
His part which takes our place, to its righteousness,
holiness, and power. This substitution on His part —
carries in it so high a respect for us as individuals, for
our personality, that it does not aim to do away with
it, or to absorb it. The aim is, rather, to present it as
righteous before God in a substitution which shall act
upon it, recognizing it all the time as a separate person-
ality, while the individual, on his side, gives himself up ~
to Christ in faith, to be moulded by His plastic influence —
into the divine image, to be transformed into a child of
God—a child in whom, reconciled and made holy, the
righteousness of God attains to a personal manifesta-
tion. By faith we are drawn into the spiritual death
of penitence, through the consciousness of being con-
demned in Him, but not without at the same time
becoming aware of the divine will to save us—save ©
our personal being itself—as reconciled in. Christ. ~
Luther states that before the Evangelical doctrine was
brought out, preachers aimed to depict to their hearers
the sufferings of Christ for the purpose of exciting
their pity, and to rhake them weep. This, he says, is _
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LUTHER ON THE ATONEMENT. 165
wrong. We make the right use of Christ’s sufferings,
when we are led, by seeing Christ so sorrowful on our
account, to sorrow for ourselves, for the sins that made
Him mourn and suffer. We are to mourn over our-
selves, and not over Him. His contrition in our be-
half should make us contrite. Christ is to Luther the
Child of God, who offers Himself to our faith that we
may be clothed upon with divine sonship. God gives
to us His Son, and tells us that He is well pleased
with all that Christ says and does for us. “ Thinkest
thou not that if a human heart truly felt that good-
pleasure which God has in Christ when He thus serves
us, it would for very joy burst into a hundred thous-
and pieces? For then it would see into the abyss of
the fatherly heart, yea into the fathomless and eternal
goodness and love of God, which He feels towards us,
and has felt from eternity?” “ God’s good-pleasure
and his whole heart thou seest in Christ, in all His
words and works;” and in turn Christ is in God's
heart, and an object of His good-pleasure. Since Christ
- igs thine and mine, we, too, are in the same good-pleas-
ure of God, and as deep in His heart as Christ Him-
self. “ We must first be in Christ, with all our nature,
sin, death, and weakness, and know that we are freed
therefrom, and redeemed, and pronounced blessed by
this Christ. We must swing above ourselves and be-
yond ourselves over upon Him, yea, be utterly incor-
166 FAITH AND RATIONALISM.
porated in Him, and be His own.” Then sin, and fear,
and death are gone: “I know of no death or hell.
For I know that as Christ is in the Father, I am, also,
in Christ.” ‘In fine, by the word we become incor-
porated in Christ, so that all that He has is ours, and we
can take Him on, as our own body. Hein turn must
take on Himself all that which befalls us, so that
neither the world, the devil, nor any calamity can hurt
or overcome us.” ‘One must teach of faith correctly
—even thus—that by it you become bound and united
with Christ, so that out of Him and you there arises,
as it were, one person, which does not suffer the two to
be parted or sundered from one another, but where
you evermore hang on Christ, and can say with joy
and comfort--‘I am Christ; not personally ; but Christ's
righteousness, victory, life, and everything which He
has, is my own;’ and so that Christ can say—‘I am
this poor sinner, that is all his sin and death are my
sins and my death, since he hangs on me by faith, I on
him,’—therefore, St. Paul says, ‘we are members of
Christ’s body, of His flesh and His bones.’ Wherefore
when you in this affair separate your person and that
of Christ from one another, you are under the law and
live not in Christ.” “ Christ has taken on our flesh,
which is full of sin, and has felt all woe and calamity,
has demeaned Himself not otherwise before God, His
Father, than if He had Himself done all the sin which
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which is the punishment of sin. That is, he submitted
willingly to death, and in the exercise of so complete a
sympathy with the holy God, and with condemned and
lost man, that he knew and felt what is the wrath of
God against sin. He felt with God the ill-desert of
sin; he felt with man what it is to be exposed to a
just banishment from the light of God’s favor.
The end of punishment is reached when a full in-
sight into God’s holy condemnation of sin, and a heart-
felt sanction of it, are evoked. The desire to punish is
then sated.
It is not difficult to see that when Christ thus makes
himself one with God in the most intimate sense, God
then and there re-connects himself with estranged
man. So far as Christ can represent the world otf
mankind, the world is reconciled to God. The world
is punished, and is punished effectually. That is to
say, punishment has done its work upon the conscience
and will. A true sonship is established in the midst |
of our race..
16* |
186 FAITH AND RATIONALISM.
Faith in Christ is the willing recognition of His
pain of conscience and affliction of spirit on account of
sin, as being meet for its guilt and unworthiness—as
alone answering to the measure of our guilt and un-
worthiness,—and faith is a self-committal to Him as
- the fountain of a new life of sonship, of perfected love
to God and man, or sanctification.
To him who is thus sympathetic with Christ sin is
graciously forgiven. Forgiveness thus bestowed does
not lessen his sense of the holiness of God and of his
own ill-desert. The guasi punishment suffered for our
benefit on the cross is an expiation, if we recognize it
as the means whereby man representatively rendered
to God an adequate tribute of sympathy with his
righteous displeasure and with the ordinance of penalty
through which—were justice to be done—it would be_
exerted and expressed. Behind and below all is the
love of God, who spared not his own Son, but through
Him, lifted upon the cross, entered into communion
with the race of mankind, estranged and condemned.
In Christ, the race may be conceived of as returning,
like the Prodigal, to the Father,—one with Him in
his retributive sentiment, not less than in the percep-
tion of His love and mercy.
The Son of God became man: He took on Him our
human nature: ‘He condemned sin in the flesh;”
that is, He adjudged it a usurper, broke its control,
-
’
¥
THE ATONEMENT. 187
expelled it from the nature which he had taken on, and
thus became a leaven for the purification of that same
nature in all who share it with Him. In doing this,
He did not evade, but submissively carried that nature
through, the righteous penalties allotted in the moral
order to sin, thus glorifying God, and appealing only to
His mercy on behalf of His brethren. So there was a
reparation in the moral order, violated by our dis-
loyalty; and that holy feeling of God, coexisting with
a desire to save, which lies at the root of penal inflic-
tion, and which man must understand if there is to be
a reunion of God and man—that feeling which is
likened to “wrath” in us—was appeased.*
* To ascribe anger to God is not more anthropomorphic than to
ascribe to Him compassion. Is it said that anger and love are in-
compatible? This is so far from being true that an iniquitous child
moves to anger (as well as to sorrow) even the tenderest parent
whose moral sense is not blunted: the deepest anger may mingle
with a yearning love, and stand as a barrier to fellowship. . Nay, it
is the love that stirs to anger: without this element of righteous
anger, love is mere good-nature,—void of earnestness, void of all
ethical quality.
That in the experiences of death, and of death under the circum-
stances which brought Him to the cross, Jesus may have gained
an insight into the holy anger of God, not possible without such an
- experience, is, to say the least, quite possible. The lament over
Jerusalem, ending with the words, “ Behold, your house is left unto
you desolate,”—shows how love mingled in his heart with a sense of
the deserved condemnation that rested on the objects of that love.
The gravest difficulties of the subject are avoided when the crude
commercial conception of the paying of a debt is cast away, and
with it the scheme of legal weights and balances, and a strained
literalism in the conception of penalty as borne by Christ. The
death of Jesus is properly said to be vicarious. It is, moreover, so
far a substitution that the result of it is to deliver the believer from
merited punishment.
It may be added here that if the world is said by the Apostle to
be reconciled to God, it is to bring out the fact that it is He who
takes the initiative, and that the whole transaction by which God
is reconciled to the world—the objective Reconciliation—emanates
from His own love.
Vad:
THE UNITY OF BELIEF AMONG CHRISTIANS. |
The alleged diversity of belief among Christians, in
the past ages of the Church and at present, is often
made an apology for scepticism. The first of the
causes to which Lord Bacon attributes atheism is
“ divisions in religion, if they be many.”* Who shall
determine what the truth is, it is asked, in this chaos
of opinion? Who shall pronounce upon the meaning
of the Bible when interpreters are in perpetual discord
with one another? These questions are founded on a
mistaken assumption. In the first place, the essential
religious truth is confounded with the varieties of ex-
position and philosophy in which it has been formulated
and defended at different times and in different schools
of thought. Secondly, upon the fundamental princi-
ples of the Gospel, the Church has not been thus
distracted. There has been no such revolution of
opinion as took place in physical science, when, for ex-
ample, the Ptolemaic doctrine which made the earth
* Essays, xvi., of Atheism.
188
FAITH AND RATIONALISM. 189
the centre, the geocentric theory, was supplanted by
the Copernican which made the sun the centre, the
heliocentric. Christ has held the central place in the
Christian system from the beginning until now. His
Incarnation and Atonement have been continually the
objects of faith. The primitive church discarded
alike Ebionism which rejected His divinity, and
Docetism which rejected His humanity.
The Nicene theology was the perfecting of a definition,
not the introduction of a new opinion. That theology
has been for substance the creed of Greek, Roman
Catholic, and Protestant, the only exception being sects
which have professed to dissent from the common
belief. Various explanations of the Atonement have
been made. There were early theories which were, in
some of their details, crude. But even those theories,
and all others of later date which have obtained a
lodgment in the Church, have recognized the mediato-
rial agency of Christ in procuring forgiveness by His
humiliation and death. As to the main fact of the
Atonement there has been a general concurrence. The
controversy of Protestant and Roman Catholic does not
turn on these cardinal points of doctrine. Both stand for
the truth declared in the ancient cecumenical creeds.
Their differences relate to the value of tradition, to the
constitution and authority of the Church, to the nature
of the Sacraments, to the way in which the Atonement
4
190 ’ UNITY OF CHRISTIAN BELIEF.
becomes available to the individual—whether by faith
alone, or by faith and something else—also, to various
minor particulars of creed and rite, most of which are
the direct or indirect offshoot of the last mentioned
difference. But behind these diversities, grave and
important as they are, there is a common Christianity
in the profession of which they unite. Here they stand
_ together, rendering one answer to the question, “‘ What
think ye of Christ?” It is not to be overlooked that
debates among Protestants have been largely owing to
ambiguities of language. One of the most laborious
disputants of the seventeenth century——that era of
stormy debate— Richard Baxter, towards the close of
his life, wrote: “I perceive that most of the Doctrinal
controversies among Protestants are far more about
equivocal words than matter.” He adds with affecting -
candor: “‘ Experience since the year 1643 to this year,
1675, hath loudly called me to repent of my own
prejudices, sidings, and censurings of causes and per-
sons not understood, and of all the miscarriages of
my ministry and life which have been thereby caused ;
and to-make it my chief work to call men that are
within my hearing to more peaceable thoughts, affec-
tions, and practices.” At an earlier day, Bacon wrote:
“Tt cannot but open men’s eyes, to see that many
controversies do merely pertain to that which is either
not revealed or positive; and that many others do
UNITY OF CHRISTIAN BELIEF. LOE
erow upon weak and obscure inferences or derivations:
- which latter sort, if men would revive the blessed style
of that great doctor of the Gentiles, would be carried
thus, Lgo, non Dominus [I, not the Lord], and
again, Secundum consilvum meum [according to my
- counsel]; in opinions and counsels, not in positions
and oppositions.” *
The most striking sign of that unity of Christians
which underlies their multiplied discords and differ-
ences, is in the degree of harmony which exists in acts
of devotion and in the devotional literature which the
adherents of diverse communions value in common.
There are hymns, some of them involving the inmost
experiences of piety, which are sung by congregations
of worshippers, in other respects widely at variance.
A portion of these accepted songs are a product of
ancient or medieval piety. Hymns composed by op-
posing theological disputants are cherished in common
by the Christian communities that profess to follow
them. The “Imitation of Christ” is one example, but
the most remarkable example, of the welcome accorded
to a religious work by Protestant and Catholic alike,
and by multitudes differing most widely in creed, as
well as culture. No book except the Bible has been
F< 50 widely circulated. Yet it enters into the very
”
heart of spiritual religion.
* Of the Advancement of Learning, b. ii.