L MJG 2. T 2003 __— 1 THFOLOGiCftL SEMINARY BT 701 .H4 1868 Heard, J. B. b. 1828. The tripartite nature of mar Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2019 with funding from Princeton Theological Seminary Library https://archive.org/details/tripartitenatureOOhear THE TRIPARTITE NATURE OF MAN SPIRIT, SOUL, AND BODY APPLIED TO ILLUSTRATE AND EXPLAIN THE DOCTRINES OE ORIGINAL SIN, THE NEW BIRTH, THE DISEMBODIED STATE, AND THE SPIRITUAL BODY REV. J. B. HEARD, M.A. SECOND EDITION, REVISED AND ENLARGED LIBRARY OF P MAY 2 9 THEOLOGICAL EDINBURGH: T. & T, CLARK, GEORGE STREET. MDCCCLXVIII. LIBRARY OF PRINCETON MAY 2 9 2002 THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY .) PREFACE TO SECOND EDITION. In preparing a Second Edition for the Press, I have given the work a thorough revision, and corrected several errors which had escaped my attention when the First Edition was preparing for the Press. I desire to thank my critics in general for their en¬ couraging remarks on this attempt to trace out the bearings of that important distinction between the psychical and pneumatical natures, which seem to me to be the key to many theological questions still under controversy. I have been charged with inconsistency in describing the conscience as the dead or dormant pneuma in the unregenerate. If dead, my critics say, it is not dormant; and, if dormant, not dead. But I do not consider dead and dormant to be logical contra¬ dictories, the one excluding the other. I can conceive the conscience to be dead as to its higher or spiritual functions, properly so called ; while, at the same time, it is only dormant as the rule of right and wrong be¬ tween man and man. Death and sleep are only differ- b VI Preface to Second Edition. ences of degree—in the one, there is the suspension of sense; in the other, of all the functions of life. Were the conscience wholly dead, then, as it seems to me, there could be no awaking it out of sleep. Men would be beyond the reach of redemption, as we have reason to suppose the devils are. On the other hand, were the conscience awake and active, men would not be in a fallen state at all, and the new birth would be identical with the birth of the flesh. Truth lies in a golden mean between these two extremes, to which the theories of Augustine and Pelagius incline. From attending to this distinction between Psyche and Pneuma, the Greek fathers seem to me to have reached that golden mean, which was lost in Latin theology generally, and which even the Reformers, Lutheran and Calvinist, alike failed to reach. If I have succeeded in pointing out the true Eireniken to the free-will controversies which have died out in our day from sheer exhaustion of the subject, I shall only feel that I have acted on Bishop Butler’s wise suggestion, “that it is not at all incredible that a book which has been so long in the possession of mankind should contain many truths as yet undiscovered, and that the whole scheme of Scripture is only to be understood by thoughtful men tracing out obscure hints, as it were, dropped us accidentally.” PREFACE. A very few words will explain the object and scope of the following treatise. It is the attempt to weave into one connected whole those passages scattered up and down the Word of God which speak of human nature as consisting of three parts—spirit, soul, and body. The distinction between soul and body is obvious, and is as old as philosophy itself. But what of the distinction between soul and spirit ? It is this which distinguishes Christian psychology from that of the schools. The Pneuma is that part of man which is made in the image of God—it is the conscience, or faculty of God-consciousness which has been depraved by the fall, and which is dormant, though not quite dead. The pneuma in the psychical or natural man has some little sense of the law of God, but no real love for Himself, and therefore it drives man from God, instead of drawing him to God.* * A remark of Auberlen (Bei Jesus ist nienjals von einem Gewissen die Rede, weil er den Geist als Kraft besitzst, v. Grist, Herzog’s Encyclopadie, vol. iv. p. 733) suggested to the writer the true theory of what the Pneuma is at present in fallen human nature. He stood long in doubt whether to vili Preface . Thus the psychology of the schools is radically dif¬ ferent from that of Scripture; yet to this day divines treat the distinction of soul and spirit as if it were only a verbal one, and speak of mortal body and immortal soul in phrases which are unconsciously borrowed from Plato rather than from St Paul. That philosophy should be content with a division of human nature into two parts only, “ the reasonable soul and human flesh subsisting,” is neither strange nor inconsistent. The wonder rather would have been if the Pneuma had been detected by those old Greeks who, with all their wisdom, knew not God, and therefore knew not of a dormant faculty of God-consciousness which exists only as a bare capacity for good, not as an active energy or habit in man until he is born from above. Thus the trichotomy of human nature into spirit, soul, and body is part of that “hidden wisdom which eye had not seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart of man con¬ ceived” till it was taught us by God in his Word. The Bible which contains the only sound system of theology, is also the teacher of the only sound system of psychology. Yet divines have paid too little attention to the psychology of the Bible, and in consequence obscurities, if not positive errors, have describe it as dead altogether or as dormant only. Now he sees that what the moralist describes as conscience is the same as the Pneuma of Scripture, with this important difference, however, that the unconverted conscience is only conscious of the law of God, not of the gracious character of the Lawgiver, and when sincere, is an “excusing or accusing conscience,” not an approving. It is only when the conscience is quickened and converted, and when perfect love has cast out fear, that the Spirit beareth witness with our spirit that we are the sons of God (Rom. viii. 16). IX Preface . crept into theology, which can only be cleared up by bringing the light of Biblical psychology to bear on theology. This was attempted in the early Church, but only carried out with very indifferent success. The Greek Fathers, generally speaking, understood the psycho¬ logy of Scripture aright: but unfortunately confound¬ ing the Platonic Logos or Nous with the Pneuma of the New Testament, they either distinguished the pneumatical and psychical as the intellectual and the carnal man respectively (which was the root error of the Gnostics), or confounded in a semi-pantheistic way the human Pneuma with the divine, which, in the case of Origen and Apollinaris, led to distinct heresies, which the Church afterwards formally condemned. The consequence of this was, that in the reaction against these errors the Latin Church generally, as guided by Augustine and Jerome, rejected altogether the distinc¬ tion between Psyche and Pneuma, for which the Latin tongue was not flexible enough to find equivalents, and so the usual dichotomy of man into body and soul only became the prevailing view throughout the West. A proof, by the way, that the Athanasian creed was of Latin origin is seen in this, that no Greek writer would have made a dogmatic statement of the union of the two natures in one person in such terms as these: “Perfectus Deus perfectus homo, ex anima rational! et humana carne subsistens.” The expression furnishes not only documentary evidence as to the probable date and authority of the creed itself, but also proves the complete oblivion into which the Pauline distinction of X Preface . Psyche and Pneuma had fallen. In plucking up the tares of Origen and other gnostic errors, the Latin Fathers had plucked up the wheat as well. As Augustine reigned as a Church teacher without a rival not only up to, but even two centuries after the Reformation, it is not surprising that the true psychology of Scripture was not discovered even by Melancthon, whose Liber de Anima , printed in 1552, is not only scholastic in form, but also dichotomist in spirit, and throws no real light on the great doctrines of original sin and the new birth, to which the distinction of Pneuma and Psyche is in truth the only key. Real Biblical criticism, which may be said to have begun with Bengel, 1750, has at last ascertained and set on the sure foundation of a comparative study of proof passages the true psychology of the New Testa¬ ment. A number of recent writers, principally German, have caught the true meaning of the distinction between Pneuma and Psyche. Roos, Schubert, Olshausen, Beck, Haussman, Oehler, Hofmann, Meyer, Goschel, Von Rudloff, a general in the Prussian army (it is only in Prussia that generals handle points in speculative theology), and lastly, Delitzsch, have discussed the trichotomy of spirit, soul, and body with varying degrees of ability and success. In this country Bishop Ellicott is, so far as we are aware, the only divine who has given the subject more than a passing notice. A valuable sermon on the threefold nature of man, in the Destiny of the Creature , contains some sound and sug¬ gestive hints on which a correct system of Christian XI Preface. psychology may be built up. Dean Alford has also some good remarks on the distinction in his Notes to the New Testament; and several writers in critical and theological reviews, both English and German, have thrown out a few scattered hints which show that they have caught the distinction, though they do not, in most cases, carry it out correctly into details. They generally either follow Philo in classifying the Psyche under the three principles—the nutritive, the emotional, and the rational, as subdivisions of it—or they confound the Psyche with the animal life, from which it is dis¬ tinct, and then interpolate a third faculty called Nous, distinct and intermediate between Psyche and Pneuma. Now the key to Christian psychology seems to be to take Aristotle’s psychology as far as it goes, and at the point where Aristotle’s draft of the psychical man stops, to begin with that of Scripture. We shall gather in this way that there are two parts of human nature, the body and psyche, or sense and intellect, of which Aristotle knew as much as we do, and a third faculty, the pneuma of St Paul, which lies wholly beyond the psychical man’s horizon, and of which all that we know is to be gathered from one book—the Bible. Thus, of the three forms of con¬ sciousness,—sense-, self-, and God-consciousness, Philosophy can tell us of the two former, Revelation alone discovers to us the existence of the third and highest. The organ of Godxonsciousness, or the pneuma and its function , or the life of God in the awakened spirit, are thus made known to us in God’s word, and there only. If man’s existence were bounded Xli Preface. by time, and the Being of God were only one of many hypotheses to account for the existence of mat¬ ter, then Aristotle’s treatise, De Anima, would pro¬ bably be a complete, as it is undoubtedly a correct draft of human nature as far as it goes. It is exactly where the psychology of the Schools stops that Chris¬ tian psychology takes up the account of man’s origin, and of the end and aim of his existence. Till we clearly understand wherein the image of God in man consists, we shall miss the meaning of the distinction between Psyche and Pneuma, and our criticisms will be verbal only, not piercing, as the Word of God is said to do, to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit, and (or, as if) of the joint and marrow. That this has not been done in any thoroughgoing way before is our excuse for venturing into print. Scattered hints have been thrown out by modern ex¬ positors of Scripture, interpreting such passages as i Cor. ii. 14, 1 Thess. v. 23, Heb. iv. 12, but the full inferences which flow from these psychological hints of God’s word have never, so far as we are aware, been fully traced out. German divines, who have traced out in detail the distinction between Psyche and Pneuma, have not built on it any formal argu¬ ment ; 1, for the nature of original sin; 2, for the new birth; 3, for consciousness in the intermediate state; and 4, for the nature of the pneumatical or resurrection body. Even Delitzsch, with much that is most valuable and suggestive, has treated the ques¬ tion as one of pure psychology, rather than as one Xlll Preface. which is the key to four of the cardinal doctrines of theology. Thus the distinction between applied and pure mechanics exactly expresses the distinction be¬ tween the present work and Delitzscli’s Psychologie, to which we desire here once for all to express our deep and constant obligations.* The present writer felt that if the distinction were Scriptural at all, it was much more than a mere verbal distinction, and he has endeavoured to use it to clear up what previously seemed to him to be unexplained, in our popular evangelical theology, i.e., how, on the one hand, man’s intellect is alive and interested in the works of God, but dead or indifferent to his person and character. There must be some stupendous fault in human nature to account for this, of which of coui se the psychology of Aristotle would take no notice, but which the Bible would explain, and which, when rightly understood, would throw light on the doctiine of original sin and of the new birth. The wntei has thus used the Scripture trichotomy of spirit, soul, and body to interpret and explain, doctrines which must remain dogmas until internal experience comes to con¬ firm external authority, and we feel that they are not * Messrs Clark will confer a benefit on English Theology by a translation of Delitzsch’s Psychologie, which we are glad to see is promised to the readers of Clark’s Theological Library. The writer will bfe well rewarded if the present work draws attention to Delitzsch’s work, which is by far the most learned which Germany has yet produced on the subject. For non-theolo- gical readers we should particularly recommend Schubert’s Geschichte der Seele, or General von Rudloff’s Die Lehre non Menschen. It is only in Germany that military men write at all on such subjects, and write as if theology and not tactics had been their profession in life. XIV Preface. only theologically but also psychologically true as well. If the psychology of Scripture thus recommends its theology, it is only another instance of the old re¬ mark, that the obscurities of the Bible arise from our viewing its truths from one side only. We must walk about Jerusalem and mark well her bulwarks, and tell the towers thereof,” if we would see how “ s ^ le beautiful for situation, and the joy of the whole earth.” There is nothing, it has been said, makes success like success. It is much more correct to say that nothing serves the truth so much as truth. Separate fragments of truth, when they are found to piece in together, give us that sense of conviction which nothing can afterwards shake. So it was that the discovery of the telescope set at rest the Coperni- can theory, which, however mathematically true and undeniable, wanted this optical confirmation, to over¬ turn the prejudice of the senses and the partiality of human nature for old opinions. We thus look for¬ ward to Christian Psychology, setting the old truths of theology in a new light, by which the cavils of the mere psychical man at the new birth will be seen to be only cavils, the objections of a blind man to the laws of light, or a deaf man to the laws of sound. The theology of the Bible tells us of the f unction of spiritual-mindedness; its psychology tells us of the organ itself. The one thus explains the other, and in the mouth of two witnesses every word is established. If the writer has thus succeeded in underpropping our current evangelical theology with a sound psycholo- XV Preface. gical principle, on which to explain the doctrines of original sin, the new birth, consciousness in the Inter¬ mediate state, and the spiritual body, his studies will not have been undertaken in vain, and he will bless God for enabling him to direct others to a solution which has cleared up some of the difficulties of belief to his own mind. TABLE OF CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. THE CASE STATED. PAGE Psychology and Ethics are the two sciences to which the Bible lays peculiar claim, .... The tripartite nature of man marked out in Scripture, . 4 Why the distinction of Psyche and Pneuma was not attended to by the Latin Fathers, . • • • 7 Abuses of the distinction by mystics and others led to its rejec¬ tion in toto, . The psychology of Scripture throws light on its theology, . 13 Function and organ are correlative terms ; hence the Bible, which teaches us the function of spiritual wickedness, also tells us of the organ which discharges that function, . 20 CHAPTER II. THE PSYCHOLOGY OF NATURAL AND REVEALED RELIGION CONTRASTED. The Being of a God, our accountability to Him, and our existence after death are the three postulates of all re¬ ligion, • How far natural religion can prove these postulates trye, . 24 Natural religion transforms the spiritual instinct that theie is an existence after death into the doctrine of the natural im¬ mortality of the soul, 3° XV111 Contents. PAGE The confusion between the spiritual instinct and the logical argument which is supposed to underprop it cleared up, . 35 CHAPTER III. THE ACCOUNT OF THE CREATION OF MAN. Gen. ii. 7 implies rather than asserts the trichotomy. The material cause, . the dust of the earth. The formal cause, . the breath of lives. The final cause, . man became a living soul, . 40 The psyche or living soul is thus the union point of two op¬ posite natures, flesh and spirit, as water is the identity of two gases, . . . . . .46 CHAPTER IV. THE RELATION OF BODY TO SOUL IN SCRIPTURE. 5 1 55 CHAPTER V. OF THE RELATION OF SOUL AND SPIRIT IN SCRIPTURE. Heb. iv. 12 teaches us how to discern between soul and spirit, The heart, not the brain, was supposed to be the centre of thought and feeling, ..... But the psyche is not localised in any single organ, but is dif¬ fused through the whole body. Thus the Scriptural account of the psyche as the totality of man’s natural life exactly agrees with that of Aristotle, 60 Co?i tents. XIX PAGE Too great stress is not to be laid on the distinction between Ruach and Nephesh in the Old Testament, . . 66 So with the teaching of our Lord, till the Holy Ghost was given, the doctrine of the human Pneuma lies in the back¬ ground, . . . . . .69 1 Thes. v. 23 considered, . . . *73 Heb. iv. 12, . . . . .76 1 Cor. ii. 11-14, . . . . .81 James iii. 15 and Jude. v. 19 compared, . . .88 Result of a comparison of those five passages of the New Testament. Where Aristotle’s psychology leaves off, Scripture takes up its account of the nature of man. Thus the silence of Aristotle as to the existence of the Pneuma is negative evidence of the strongest kind, CHAPTER VI. PSYCHE AND PNEUMA IN THE LIGHT OF CHRISTIAN EXPERIENCE. Mansel and Maurice’ controversies as to the existence of a religious instinct in man, .... Religious functions suggest some corresponding organ : this is the Pneuma, ..... CHAPTER VII. THE UNITY UNDER DIVERSITY OF THE THREE PARTS OF MAN’S NATURE. The distinction of spirit, soul, and body does not imply three separate natures in man, Scripture psychology distinct alike from materialism and spiritualism, .... Tertullian’s divide et opera tested, . ri 5 118 I2 5 xx Content s. PAGE Man’s nature is not complete unless as the union of spirit, soul, and body; hence the need of the resurrection of the body, . . • • • • • 1 3 ° This doctrine the test of the difference between philosophy and revealed religion, . . • • • 1 3 1 CHAPTER VIII. ANALOGIES FROM THE DOCTRINE OF THE TRINITY TO THE TRICHOTOMY IN MAN CONSIDERED. Homo imago Trinitatis : how far the analogy sound, . 138 The mystics attempt to transcend creationism—Pantheistic results of all theosophy—Hegel, . . • *45 CEIAPTER IX. OF THE PNEUMA AS THE FACULTY WHICH DISTINGUISHES MAN FROM THE BRUTE. The old distinctions between reason and instinct are giving way before the attacks of modern physiology, . • 149 The real distinction between man and the brute lies in the will or moral character more than in the intellect, . • 1 5 5 Conscience, or God-consciousness, is the true differentia between man and the brute, . . . .157 Conscience identified with the Pneuma in fallen man, . 159 CHAPTER X. THE STATE OF THE PNEUMA IN MAN SINCE THE FALL. Adam’s nature before the fall, innocent, and with a capacity of becoming holy, . . . . .162 Contents . xxi PAGE The Pneuma in man is the regulative faculty : this has been deadened by the fall, . . . • .169 The nature of original sin privative only, not positive. The other theory would make God the author of evil, . 183 CHAPTER XI. THE QUESTION OF TRADUCIANISM AND CRE¬ ATIONISM SOLVED BY THE DISTINCTION BETWEEN SOUL AND SPIRIT. History of the Controversy—Tertullian—Augustine—the Schoolmen—the Reformers—Modern German Divines, 189 The traducian theory true of the descent of body and soul— For the quickening of the Pneuma, the creationist theory pre¬ ferable, . • - • • *94 The distinction of per afflatum and per spirltum illustrates the nature of the Pneuma before and after conversion, . 197 CHAPTER XII. CONVERSION TO GOD EXPLAINED AS THE QUICKENING OF THE PNEUMA. Men are born into the world with a living body and soul, but with a dormant spirit, . • • .201 The witness of conscience is not spiritual life, but prepares the way for it, . • • • .207 The nature of the new birth explained, . . .210 The relation of regeneration to sanctification : the one is the act, the other the habit, . • • .217 CHAPTER XIII. THE QUESTION OF THE NATURAL IMMOR¬ TALITY OF THE PSYCHE CONSIDERED. The moralist throws on the psychologist the onus prohandi that death is extinction of man, C 22 I XXII Contents. PAGE. Superstition, philosophy, and revelation, all three agree in teach¬ ing that man exists after death, but here their agreement ends, 222 The superstitious theory of disembodied ghosts, The philoso¬ phic theory of the Immortality of the Psyche, . 224 I. The metaphysical proof for Immortality of the soul con¬ sidered, . • . . . 23 1 II. The ontological proof, . . . .237 III. The teleological proof, . . . .241 CHAPTER XIV. APPLICATION OF THE DOCTRINE OF THE TRI¬ CHOTOMY TO DISCOVER THE PRINCIPLE OF FINAL REWARDS AND PUNISHMENTS. The Pneuma, not the Psyche, the true source of man’s immor¬ tality, ...... 249 The hereafter, as well as the welfare of mankind, results from the n^eritorious work of Christ, . . .250 Three theories as to the immortalily of the soul, . .252 Degrees of punishment will be proportioned to degrees of wickedness—carnal, psychical, and pneumatical, . .258 CHAPTER XV. INTERMEDIATE STATE. Consciousness during intermediate state held by the Reformers, 261 The dependence of the soul on the body would favour the theory of the sleep of the soul. But, on the other hand, Scripture asserts that if absent from the body we are present with the Lord, ..... 263 Contents. xxm PAGE. The distinction between soul and spirit clears up this contra¬ diction between reason and revelation, . .268 The contrast between the intermediate and the final state has been generally lost sight of since the Reformation, . 273 Bishop Butler anticipated that, by use of the inductive method, discoveries would be made in the Book of Revelation, the same as in the book of nature, . . .277 The scriptural distinction between Hades and Heaven pointed out by Lange and others, . . . 279 The intermediate state one of progression in holiness. Isaac Taylor’s theory on this subject, . . . 288 CHAPTER XVI. THE RESURRECTION AND SPIRITUAL BODY. The intermediate state is the Sabbath-day ; the resurrection, the Easter morning, . The resurrection body is said to be a pneumatical body, Buffon’s definition of man as an intelligence using organs more applicable to man hereafter than at present, Bichat’s distinction of the nutritive and sensitive life, The nutritive life, or the flesh, will not rise with the resurrec¬ tion body, ...... The transformation of insects teaches the right doctrine of re¬ surrection, ...... This analogy was misunderstood by the ancients, Bonnet’s Palingenesie suggests the true theory of the spiritual body, ...... Error of Swedenborg and his school on this subject. Mediaeval doctrine of resurrection of the flesh, Scripture account of resurrection midway between these two extremes, ...... 296 298 3°2 3°9 312 3 2 3 3 2 3 333 334 344 348 XXIV Contents. CHAPTER XVII. SUMMARY. Eight points established from Scripture. 1. Man a tripartite nature, 2. With two tendencies, flesh and spirit. 3. The fall deadened the spirit. 4. The Pneuma in fallen man is conscience. 5. The new birth is the quickening of that Pneuma. 6. Man’s immortality not in the Psyche, but in the Pneuma. 7. Consciousness of the spirit-soul in the intermediate state. 8. The resurrection is the transformation from a psychical to a pneumatical body. Concluding reflections. Theological torpor arising from not apply¬ ing the inductive method to Scripture. The method of authority still in force even in Reformed churches. The Tripartite Nature of Mail. THE CASE STATED. SYCHOLOGY and Ethics are the two sub¬ jects on which the Bible may be expected to speak with authority. However distinct the orbits of reason and faith may be, they intersect each other at least at two points. Self-knowledge, and the knowledge of our duty, are the two sciences which descend from heaven, or of which a revelation from heaven must determine at least the outlines. Psychology and ethics must be Christian, if Christianity is to exist at all. Whatever may be said of its rela¬ tion to other sciences, the Bible will fall behind the age, and lose the allegiance of the educated classes, if it cannot maintain its supremacy in the department of the mental and moral sciences. These it claims by right as its own. It professes to be a revelation of the character of God ; from the nature of the case, it must also be a revelation of the character of man. Beholding, as in a glass, his natural face, however he may go away and straightway forget it, man sees in the Scripture his real nature, its present corruption, 2 The Case Stated. and capabilities of future glory. Whatever may be said about leaving the physical sciences to take their own course, unfettered by traditional interpretations of the word of God, the same cannot be said of the moral sciences. There must surely be some point where we must take our stand in conceding to the demands of free inquiry. That point seems to be where, to use Locke’s phrase, the eye attempts to turn in on itself and exercise that introspection which, according to Bacon, and the Positive school which exaggerates his axioms, is a non-natural effort of thought. We shall not stop here to discuss this point with the Positivists. But while we do not admit that the highest end of man is, by the exercise of his outward faculties, to mould external nature to his convenience and use, it cannot be denied that in this direction his faculties work most readily and with most success. When he turns his powers of observation in on himself, he seems to work awkwardly and under restraint. The mind upon matter works more readily, but is somewhat de¬ based thereby. As Shakespeare spoke of himself:— « Thence comes it that my name receives a brand, And almost thence my nature is subdued To that it works in, like the dyer’s hand.” So it is when the mind, forgetting her high design, and taking to work in clay, has become of the earth earthy. But, on the other hand, no sooner does she turn in on herself, and attempt the higher task of introspection, than she finds herself lost in the dark, and deafened with a din of controversy, on words without meaning. The Case Stated. 3 From Zeno of Elea to Hegel, subjective logic has been a mighty maze, but without a plan; a labyrinth with- out an Ariadne’s thread; a riddle, with no CEdipus to answer it. The explanation of man’s inability to know himself is acknowledged in the gnome:— “ E ccelo descendit yvujOi ffsaurov.” But this is only half the truth. Heaven must not only bid us know ourselves, but also teach us the way by which to do it. Thus, however it may fare with the other natural sciences, psychology and ethics are the two depart¬ ments of human knowledge which Revelation claims as its own. It can never give up its right to regulate these. It must tell us of our nature as made in the image of God ; that is the task of Christian psychology. It must point out the duties of such a Godlike nature; that is the task of Christian ethics. We are not without a system of Christian ethics. The writings of Chalmers and Vinet, Wardlaw and Wayland, Harless and Rothe have established the de¬ pendence of morality upon religion in a way which could not have been anticipated a century ago. The Christian code of ethics is not treated as obsolete, as Bishop Butler declared it was by the polite world of his day. But we are as yet very far from recognis¬ ing a scheme of Christian psychology distinct from the psychology of the schools, in the same sense that the ethics of the Bible is distinct from the ethics of India and Greece. To this day divines accept the distribu¬ tion of the mind which the reigning philosophy, what- The Case Stated. 4 ever it be, lays down, and work upon it, quite uncon¬ scious that it may be wholly subversive of what the Bible teaches of the inner nature of man. The old scholastic division of the mind into memory, intelli¬ gence, and will— “ Memoria, intelligenzia, e voluntade.” —Dante Purg. xxv. 85.— which we find in Dante, and traces of which appear in Bacon’s division of the sciences into history, poetry, and philosophy, lasted until the time of Descartes. Then arose the new school of dichotomists, who re¬ peated the Cartesian formula of mind and body, reason and instinct, until it has stamped itself into our theology, as well as into all other modes of thought. The controversy between those who took reason for a faculty sui generis , and those who made it only a modi¬ fication of instinct, has lasted down to our own day. There have been almost endless refinements and dis¬ tinctions from Locke’s reflection and Leibnitz’s monads, down to Kant’s analytic and synthetic faculty, and Coleridge’s repeated distinction between reason and understanding, the Vernunft and Verstand of Schelling. All the while we have scarcely taken the trouble to ask whether the Bible might not throw light on this and similar questions. Men have persisted in disput¬ ing on a point which had been settled beforehand, if they had only thought of consulting the oracles of God. When it is said that man was created “ in the image and after the likeness of God,” these two expressions might have suggested—the one, that essential part of The Case Stated. 5 man which sin has not quite effaced; the other (like¬ ness, bfjjoiuxug in the LXX.) that moral resemblance which sin has destroyed. And again, the New Testa¬ ment distinction between Psyche and Pneuma might have set, we should have supposed, almost every thinker on the right track for a true theory of human nature. The tripartite nature of man, which heathen philosophers had guessed at, but never truly discovered, was as clearly intimated in Scripture as any other fact connected with human nature. We can only attri¬ bute the adherence of divines to the old psychology of body and soul partly to timidity, and partly to not seeing clearly how much a defective psychology affected their conclusions in theology. We do not mean to imply that the trichotomy of man, as made up of body, soul, and spirit, was not traced out by the early Greek fathers. The distinction of Psyche and Pneuma,* on which the doctrine of the trichotomy chiefly rests, was caught by the Greek fathers, but in most cases they founded no teaching on it; and as the only fathers who did so, Origen and * It is only what we might expect., that the distinction of Psyche and Pneuma was caught by the Greek, but lost or neglected by the Latin fathers. The Latin language wanted the precision of the Greek, and spiritus and anima never acquired the same precision of meaning as Pneuma and Psyche. Irenseus, Justin Martyr, Clement of Alexandria, Origen, Didymus of Alex¬ andria, Gregory of Nyssa, and Basil of Csesarea, all note the distinction of soul and spirit, and designate the spirit as that which bears the truest image of God. With the error of Apollinaris, who denied to Christ a human Pneuma, the reaction came, and the trichotomy fell into disfavour, and was neglected even in the East. In the West it cannot be said to have ever re¬ ceived the attention it deserved. Tertullian opposed it from the first, and Augustine thought it safest to neglect it .—See Bishop Ellicott's Destiny oj the Creature , p. X 17 • 6 The Case Stated. Apollinaris, fell into error on the subject, we hardly wonder that Augustine thought it safer to pass it by as an unprofitable distinction : Origen, by holding that the spirit of man was unitibtKrw tw yiioovuv, impassive of evil, led the way to a theory of the purgation of evil by punishment, which must result in the salvation of all; Apollinaris, by denying to Christ a human Pneuma, and declaring that the Holy Spirit in His case supplied the place of the third part of our nature, thus im¬ paired his humanity. Thus the doctrine of the Pneuma fell into undeserved reproach, and at last was quite lost sight of. But it might have been otherwise. To take one instance only out of many. If Augustine, the autho¬ rity and the oracle—not only of his own age, but of the whole western Church down to our day, had adopted the trichotomy, instead of the prevailing di¬ chotomy of body and soul, which is still the popular conception of man’s nature, how much smoother would have been the course of theology, how much less dis¬ turbed by a controversy in which we now see that both sides were right in what they affirmed, and wrong only in what they denied. Pelagius asserted, and Augustine denied the reality of human goodness, till, heated by controversy, the one bordered on deny¬ ing the fall, and certainly quite frittered away its mean¬ ing ; while the other went so far as to call the virtues of the heathen “ splendid vices,” and in his greatest work, “The City of God,” fell into a narrow and half-Manichean conception Qf the world as divided into two cities, owning allegiance to two distinct rulers, The Case Stated. 7 God and the devil, and ending, of course, in an eter¬ nal separation at the last day. Had Augustine only adopted from the Greek the distinction of Pneuma and Psyche, and bent the still living Latin tongue to the exact use of spiritus and anima, as geist and seele are distinguished in German, or as esprit and time originally were in French, or as spirit and soul might be even still in English—what clouds of controversy which have troubled the Church for the last fourteen centuries might be rolled away! Had Augustine but recognised the trichotomy, and taught that the Ruach , or pneuma or spiritus— i.e., the inspired and Godlike part of man, was deadened by the fall, and that in that state of spiritual injury a propagation of soul and body from Adam to his posterity must ex traduce carry with it a defective, and hence a diseased constitution, his refutation of Pelagius would have been sufficiently convincing, without hurrying him into an exaggeration in the opposite extreme, in which moralists who oppose theology have not failed to see the weakness, and to profit by it. This is only one instance of several which we shall point out in the course of the following inquiry, of the solution which a sound psychology offers to a sound system of theology. Error latet in generalibus. Theo- logy borrows its axioms or first laws of thought from the reigning school of philosophy, often quite uncon¬ scious that they are so borrowed, and then finds, to its dismay, errors in the conclusion which it did not sus¬ pect in the premises. It is not till the wedge of gold or the Babylonian garment has been found in the floor 8 The Case Stated. of the tent, that we acknowledge that the difficulties which emerge in theology are difficulties brought in by ourselves from philosophy. Even still, though systematic divinity is on the decline, divines are a great deal too facile in admitting as axioms certain philosophical theories, which have come dowm by tradition from heathen schools of thought. There is something in Tertullian’s rough saying, Quid philosophus ac Chris- tianus , though he was by no means consistent with his own principle. For instance, the prevailing dichotomy of body and soul rests on the old Protagorean system of couples of logical antitheses and opposites. Thus, mind and matter, finite and infinite, hot and cold, wet and dry, light and dark, &c., were supposed to be entities co-eternal with God. These co-eternal entities, out of which Plato’s Trinity of God, matter, and ideas is constructed, was rejected, of course, by Christian divines. But a substratum of error remained untaken away. They still held by the old categories of matter and mind, and supposed man to be made up of two parts, the reasonable soul and human flesh. The division has come down unchallenged to our day, and little modified even by those who recognise the tri¬ chotomy of Scripture. Divines, in general, if they assign any meaning at all to the Pneuma, describe it as a kind of sub-division of the Psyche, like Aristotle’s division of the soul into the fi'tpog aXoyov, and that Xoyov t'/pv xi igtZg. If the Pneuma is only a class under the Psyche, not an original part by itself, no wonder that practical men pass the subject by as a needless refine¬ ment, illustrative of Greek subtlety, but not of any use The Case Stated . 9 to explain certain obscure and apparently irreconcil¬ able mysteries of the kingdom of grace. The Bible speaks of man as wholly corrupt, yet recognises traces of natural goodness, and that among the heathen (Phil, iv. 8, Rom. ii. 14). The Bible again speaks of our being born from above, yet speaks of putting off the old man and putting on the new, as if the new creature in Christ Jesus were not the creation of a new, but the restoration of the old. The Bible again speaks of death as a sleep, and that the dead praise not God, neither they that go down into silence. Yet it also teaches us that blessed are the dead which die in the Lord; for though they rest from their labours, their works do follow them.” And again, that though u absent from the body, we are present with the Lord.” Now the popular dichotomy, as we shall see, is unavailing against those who maintain the sleep of the soul, and the only clue to this contradiction lies in the distinction between psychical and pneumatical life. So again the Bible tells us that we shall at the last day be clothed upon with our house which is from heaven, and which the apostle elsewhere calls a pneumatical body. But if the pneuma is only a faculty of the soul, the spiritual soul, as contrasted with the merely intel¬ lectual soul, such an expression as the spiritual body is almost unmeaning, and divines are driven to hold a doctrine of the resurrection of the flesh which is no¬ where taught in Scripture. If the mortal, animal body, and the immortal or rational soul, are the two integral parts of human nature, then, as we shall see, the resurrection of the body is a doctrine not only diffi- IO The Case Stated. cult in itself, but also unworthy of the place which it holds in the Christian scheme. If at death the spirit rises to a higher state of being on quitting this tremb¬ ling house of clay, is it after the analogy of God’s other dealings that He should degrade it again by putting it, as He did once, and for a little time r/, Heb. ii. 9), in a tenement lower than that of angels ? These are some of the difficulties of belief of which the prevailing division of man into body and soul offers no solution but which at once explain themselves on the other theory of the trichotomy. On these questions, we are at the present moment brought to the point where Copernicus stood when he found the diffi¬ culties of the Ptolemean theory insuperable, and was thus driven to conclude that these errors in detail implied an error somewhere of first principles. He threw out the hypothesis which has since won its way to general acceptance. In the present case, how¬ ever, it may be said, hypotheses non jingo. Ours is only a return to the true and Scriptural account of man’s nature, which later theories have obscured, and which fell into undeserved reproach in early times, from its supposed connection with the Apollinarian error as to the person of our Lord. u No difficulty emerges in theology which has not previously emerged in philosophy,” such is Sir W. Hamilton’s celebrated maxim. The difficulties of theology will, if traced to their source, be generally run home to some conception current in the schools of philosophy. Thus it happens that the Bible is made responsible for difficulties which are not of its own making. Its doctrines are objected to, when in truth The Case Stated. 11 it is our point of view which is at fault. Change the point of view, and the objections will generally, if not in every case, disappear. So it is, we are sure, with the difficulties of belief relative to original sin and the new birth.* They are solved by a single text rightly understood (Jude 19). We thus appeal from the Bible as seen in the light of the schools to the Bible as seen in its own light. If we take one part of God’s Word without the other, we must expect to fall into error. But we must only blame ourselves for the result. Thus the purpose of the following inquiry is prac¬ tical and apologetic, not speculative and critical only. If the distinction of Psyche and Pneuma were merely verbal, it would be a nice refinement of language, but no more. Since it was regarded in this light by Ter- tullian,-f* he very naturally rejected it with that rough, * The author of The Difficulties of Belief, the Rev. T. R. Bilks, has with great ability endeavoured to rectify some of these misconceptions by which the Bible is made accountable for the injudicious reasonings of some of its friends and apologists. Mr Birks controverts certain crude notions of God’s omnipotence or sovereignty, and of his permission of evil when He might have prevented it. He also correctly marks the difference between sin in man and angels, on account of man being in the flesh. The one was culpa and the other crimen , The one, therefore, entailed the sentence of temporal death only ; the other of eternal. He rejects the notion of a covenant between God and Adam, in which Adam contracted with God on behalf of all his posterity; and thus sweeping away most of the figments of our modern Augustinian theology, if he does not allay doubt, he alleviates, at least, some of the difficulties of belief. The line of inquiry that we shall pursue is along the same path as that traced by Mr Birks; and we take the sagacious hints which he has thrown out as finger-posts on the road to a higher theology, in which our differences shall disappear when truths are seen in the light of God, who is love. f Tertullian, in his treatise on the Soul (De Anima, ch. x.) opposes the idea of any absolute division between the soul and spirit. Denique si separas 12 The Case Stated . practical good sense which distinguished the Latin mind from the Greek. In this he was followed by Augustine ; and it is needless to add that the authority of Augustine decided the course of the western Church in rejecting the distinction as mystical, and tending to deprave the doctrine of man’s fall and corruption. It must be admitted that Augustine and his followers have had some reason for their suspicions. With scarcely an exception, those who have followed Origen in his theory of the Pneuma as the divine element in man, have inclined to the notion that this divine and inner light is itself “impassive of evil.” They have thus failed to see the meaning either of original sin or of the capability of spiritual wickedness, which is the same as the sin against the Holy Ghost. The Cam¬ bridge school of Platonists of the 17th century, and the followers of Fox and Barclay, also caught the dis¬ tinction of Psyche and Pneuma; but as their theories clearly tended in the direction of Origenism, their opinions led to no sound conclusions, and were rejected by the majority of their countrymen. The some may be said of the new school of Platonising divines, of whom Mr Maurice and Robertson of Brighton are the foremost names. Those who, to uphold the distinct spiritum et animam separa et opera; agant in discrete) aliquid ambo, seorsum anima seorsum spiritus, * * Si enim duo sunt anima et spiritus dividipossunt ut divisione eorum alterius discedentis alterius immanentis mortis et vitas concursus eveneat. Yet this latter supposition, which Tertullian excludes as absurd, is the very one on which Scripture founds the idea of spiritual death : “She that liveth in pleasure is dead while she liveth” (i Tim. v. 6 ). Men are dead in trespasses and sins when the psychical life is there, but the pneumatical not yet awakened. It is only just to Tertullian, however, to admit that he afterwards compares the Psyche and the Pneuma to the female and the male, and adds, 0 beatum connubium si non admiserit adulterium (De Anima, 41 ). The Case Stated. nature of the Pneuma or divine image in man, reject or obscure the doctrine of original sin, must not be surprised if an invincible prejudice is still felt against a theory which seems to lead to such conclusions. The image of God in man has been defaced in one part of our nature, the Psyche, and altogether effaced in the other, the Pneuma. All that remains is the feeble flutter of a conscience witnessing for God, and that not by approving, but by accusing and excusing our thoughts. This is all that remains of that inner light of which so much has been written by the mystics and neo-Platonists of this and the 17th century. The Pueuma in fallen human nature is as a bruised reed and as smoking flax, which God will not quench, but which must be kindled by a flame from heaven if it is to give us any light. As soon as it can be seen that the distinction between Psyche and Pneuma, so far from making void the doctrine of original sin, actually confirms and explains it, the objections to it will, we should hope, disappear, and the Scripture trichotomy of spirit, soul, and body be accepted as the only true one. Thus the object of our present inquiry is practical and not speculative only. It is the test of the truth of a theory when it clears up difficulties which were before irreconcileable. Thus, when Galileo turned his glass to the skies, and pointed out the moons of Jupiter revolving round the planet, he set the question at rest between Copernicus and Ptolemy. The Cop- ernican theory was no longer a hypothesis, but a truth, Difficulties which were inexplicable under the Ptole- H The Case Stated. mean astronomy, vanished at once in the light of the new theory. It was a revolution, doubtless, in all the accustomed modes of thought; it required men to give up certain traditional views, which rested, as they sup¬ posed, on the authority of the Bible. But as soon as this sacrifice to truth was made, the rest was easy. It is difficult to find truth in the first instance, not because she loves to conceal herself, but because we look for her in the wrong direction. But when found, she is always seen to be self-consistent, simple, and easy of comprehension. In buying truth, as in the case of other less precious commodities, the first cost is the greatest 5 when that is paid, truth is her own reward, and repays the purchaser many times over. So it is when we apply one Scripture truth to solve another. Looked at apart, the doctrines of original sin and the new birth seem the hardest, if not the most repulsive, of dogmas. No truths are more undeniably part of God’s word, and no truths have been more often rejected and explained away than these. How comes this ? It is easy to set it down to the hardness of the natural heart; and certainly we are far from excusing men’s rejection of these dogmas. But may there not be a fault in our part ? May they not be so irrationally explained as to provoke this revolt of rea¬ son ? If orthodoxy has not thus often produced heterodoxy, Church history has been written to very little purpose. Divines should begin to suspect that it is the point of view at which they put the inquirer which leads him to reject salvation. Like Balak, they lead Balaam only to “ see the utmost part of them, and Ibe Case Stated, l 5 not to see them alland, instead of cursing our ene¬ mies, the freethinker ends in blessing them altogether. Let us take him up to the top of the high mountain, let him see not a part only, but the whole of God’s plan spread out before him, and it will be strange if he does not end in blessing those whom God has bles¬ sed, and cursing those whom God has cursed, and not the contrary, as at present. Our purpose will be gained in this treatise, if we can induce our reader to change his point of view, and adopt the Scripture account of man’s tripartite nature, instead of the dual conception still'common. Original sin will then be seen in a new light not as a hard and forbidding dogma, but as the simple and only way of accounting for the fact of evil abounding. If man was by his original nature only psychical, with a capacity, however, for becoming spiritual, then it is self-evident that when man fell he forfeited that capacity, and be¬ came, first, earthly, then psychical, and finally, devilish, or devil-inspired, since from the nature of the case of the Pneuma, it is no longer led of God, it is given over to the inspiration of the wicked one, James iii. 15. Now, like produces like, fallen man could only transmit to his posterity the nature which he had. Being psychi¬ cal himself, and having not the spirit (Jude 19), how could the child rise above the level of the parent, for if we can speak of any tendency in human nature, it is to degenerate, not to improve, when left to itself? Thus from this point of view the difficulty is to see how it could be otherwise. Original sin, or the trans¬ mission of evil ex traduce , so far from being a terrible i6 The Case Stated. decree, or an inscrutable mystery, which led the ortho¬ dox in the sixth century* to think that celibacy was the blessed state, as not continuing the propagation of evil, is seen to be the fault and corruption of our nature. It is a fault and corruption arising entirely from the privation of the Pneuma, not from the transmission by propagation of some peculiar and positive germ and orinciple of evil. The crude and contradictory theo¬ ries of Traducianism and Creationism, between which Augustine wavered so long, inclining only to the latter doubtfully, and as a choice of difficulties, would never have been heard of. The birth of a soul is a mystery, and so is the birth of an insect. Till we can solve the mystery of life in its lowest form, we need not contend about the mode in which its higher forms come into being. The simple truth with regard to all birth from man to the worm is this, that although God has entered into his Sabbath of creation (Heb. vi. 4), it is not a Sab¬ bath of inactivity, but of active care and Providence (John v. 17), “My Father worketh hitherto, and I work,” i.e.j on the Sabbath-day, and in the way that God works during the Sabbath of creation. Thus the question on which Creationists and Tra- ducianists have disputed so long, disappears from the point of view of the trichotomy. The question really turned not on the physiological question whether the soul is born, which none would deny who did not take the Hindu theory of pre-existence, but on the question of the transmission of evil. Thus the dispute about * For illustrations see Milman’s History of Latin Christianity, particularly the epithalamium of Gregory the Great on the marriage of a noble Roman pair. The Case Stated. J 7 Creationism and Traducianism was really a dispute on the nature of original or birth sin. It was a corollary from the doctrine of original sin, that the soul was transmitted with the body, and it is a proof of Augus¬ tine’s candour that although Traducianism told directly in favour of his argument,'and notwithstanding that Pe- lagius was a decided Creationist, yet he rejected the Traducianist theory on account of its seeming to lead to conclusions even more objectionable than Pelagian- ism. We shall afterwards see that neither hypothesis is necessary on that view of original sin which the dis¬ tinction between Pneuma and Psyche opens up to us. It is not the least merit of this, the account of the tri¬ partite nature of man, that it allays those controversies which the other theory only created. Lastly, there is a practical use of a sound system of Christian Psychology, which our preachers and apolo¬ gists would do well not to overlook. All evangelical Christians turn to the 3d of St John as the proof pas¬ sage of the doctrine of the new birth. They maintain, and rightly as we think, that such words as these are not to be explained away into duly receiving any ex¬ ternal rite, however solemn. Experimental religion is either a delusion all through, or there are some of the baptized who are born again of the Spirit, and others who are not. We are not here showing reasons for believing the interpretation of the new birth com¬ monly held by Evangelical Christians to be the correct one. We here accept these reasons as sufficient, and express our hearty agreement with them. We believe x8 The Case Stated . % that a change must pass over men before they can en¬ ter the kingdom of heaven—that which is born of the flesh is flesh, and that which is born of the Spirit, is spirit. But what the evangelical argument wants, is a psy¬ chological ground on which to rest this theological truth. Evangelical divines rightly maintain that we must be born again, but this does not meet Nicode- mus’ difficulty. WLat is that part of our composite nature which is born again or born from above? Clearly not the body ; that view carries absurdity with it; can a man enter his mother’s womb a second time and be born ? Is it then the soul or Psyche ? But the soul cannot be born a second time any more than the body, hence they conclude that the second birth means a new direction to the affections, desires, and tastes, or a new will or power to turn to God. The new birth is thus rather a renovation of the old, than the birth of something new. The new man is nothing but the old man renewed in the spirit of his mind. That there is«a renewal of the old we do most readily admit, but that this is equivalent to the new birth, and not the effect of it, we never can allow. Regeneration by itself is one thing, the effects of it is another. It is very true, that it is not necessary to know the laws of the wind, whence it cometh or whither it goeth, in order to know its force, or to judge of it by its effects. So the Lord does not give Nicodemus a psychological account of the difference between psyche and pneuma, which Nicodemus in all probability would not have understood, but passes on to a description of the new The Case Stated. l 9 birth, instead of defining it by itself. It is the same with the majority of our evangelical teachers, they describe the results of the new birth correctly, and well. Newton’s Cardiphonia, Romaine’s Letters, Wesley, and Toplady’s Sermons are instances of this. But what the logical differentia between a converted and an unconverted man is, they fail to tell us. They are like Meno in Plato’s dialogue, who when asked to define what virtue is in itself, described instead a list of particular virtues. It is then, at this point that a correct, i.e., a Scriptural Psychology comes to help out a correct, i.e. a Scriptural Theology. Our prea¬ chers, to use an illustration from physiology, seem to understand the function of spiritual-mindedness, but not to have discovered the organ which discharges that function. Now, what should we think of a physiolo¬ gist who, after discovering a new function in the hu¬ man body, never took the trouble to describe its pro¬ per and peculiar organ. Function and organ are cor¬ relative terms in physiology ; they must be also in psychology. It is consistent enough in those who have no sense of a personal God, to deny a peculiar organ of God-consciousness in man. Thus an Aris¬ totle summing up his account of the Psyche as the entelechy, or sum total of human activity, is consistent enough. He had no consciousness of a peculiar func¬ tion, and therefore may be excused for not suspecting that there was any such organ as the Pneuma, in man. It is our knowledge of the function that sets us on the track to discover its peculiar organ; and here let us remark, that it is the glory of the Scriptures to have 20 Ihe Case Stated. revealed both to us. Had the mental analysis of Aristotle pierced so deep as to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit, had he then discovered the spirit lying in embryo underneath the psyche, as Schwammerdamm dissected the cocoon to find the butterfly, it would have been a barren discovery. Knowing nothing of the mind of God, what would such a discovery of an organ of God-consciousness have led him on to ? He might have fallen into a vein of mysticism like the later Platonists, but the discovery would have been of as little use as a telescope to a blind man, or a trumpet to one born deaf. On the other hand, had the Scriptures, which de¬ scribe the function of spiritual mindedness, not told us also of its appropriate organ the Pneuma, we might have been fairly puzzled. It is true that if we go to the Old Testament to look for proof passages on the sub¬ ject we are disappointed. But we forget that the knowledge of ourselves, and of the nature of God go on proportionately together in the Scriptures. When the function was but feebly exercised, the organ itself was only slightly mentioned. There are rudimentary organs, for instance, in the body of a child, which come into use only when he attains manhood. So with the Spirit. It is in proportion as men by attain¬ ing to spiritual manhood, and having their senses exer¬ cised by reason of use, to discern good and evil, that they learn what is the organ which discharges that function of spiritual mindedness. We see only half the glory of God’s word if we suppose that the same organ can discharge two different functions, serve i.e . 7 The Case Stated. 2 I as the intellectual instrument or the unawakened psy¬ che, and also as the instrument of religious conscious¬ ness when the spirit is awakened and turned to God. Conversion is a truth, but is only fully understood in all its bearings when we see that it is the wakening up of what was previously dormant, the divine part in man now turned to its proper use to witness for Him, to worship him in the beauty of holiness, (not the holiness of beauty, as Laud misread the text), and to delight in him at all times. It is one thing, for instance, to know the functions of the hand, another thing to describe the organ itself, as Sir C. Bell has done. For all purposes of saving knowledge it is enough to ex¬ perience the spiritual mind as contrasted with the car¬ nal. But if knowledge is excellent at all, it is surely desirable that those who, as spiritual anatomists, de¬ scribe the functions of the new nature should go on to understand and observe the organ by itself. A smith or a carpenter know very well what they can do with their thumb and fore-finger, but a knowledge of the anatomy of the hand greatly enlarges our conceptions of the wisdom of the great Contriver, and enables us to refer each of these many functions to its proper and peculiar organ. Adaptation is seen in the fitting of every instrument to its own work. Now we only half admire the work of God in conversion if we do not see the organ out of which the quickening Spirit, the Lord and giver of life, draws such wonderful func- - tions. It is not the psyche that prays, though we cannot, it is true, pray without a certain discharge of intellectual force, which is psychical only. Just in the 22' Ihe Case Stated. same way it is not the brain that thinks, though we cannot think without the healthy exercise of the brain. In all God’s works, the bringing in of the higher form of life does not suspend the action of the lower—the lower still co-operates with it. Thus the body serves the soul or psyche, and the soul the spirit. But as we do not confound body and mind, so we must not confound soul and spirit, as if they were all one, be¬ cause their union is essential to life. Like the woman and the man, the one is not without the other “in the Lord.” These are some of the reasons for which we think the application of Scripture Psychology to illustrate Theology both practicable and profitable. If the dis¬ tinction of spirit, soul and body helps to set forth and to simplify the doctrines of original sin, the new birth, the intermediate state and the spiritual body we shall not have pursued our inquiry in vain. THE PSYCHOLOGY OF NATURAL AND REVEALED RELIGION CONTRASTED. There are three postulates, the Being of a God, our accountability to Him, and the immortality of the soul, on the certainty of which every other doctrine of religion is assumed to rest. These three postulates extended and applied make up what is generally called Natural Religion. It would be beside our purpose here to dispute the justice of the term Natural Religion, or to inquire how far, and to what extent since the fall man can of himself turn to God, can fear and serve Him here, and hope to see Him hereafter. We must however, in limine protest against the so-called system of natural religion. Though man may, by his unaided reason, spell out one or even two of these truths singly, yet he certainly cannot put them together, he certainly cannot reach even that elementary stage of faith spoken of in Heb. xi. 6, “For he that cometh to God must believe that He is, and that He is a rewarder of them that diligently seek Him.” Even though he may rise above and reject the idols of the theatre and the tribe, he certainly cannot break away from the idols of the den: those false conceptions of God which we must form to ourselves in our own fallen and corrupt hearts. The philosopher may have purified his mind from the corrupting conceptions of the popular idolatry, but 24 Biblical Psychology. u unless above himself he can exalt himself,” an attempt . which carries a contradiction on its very face, he must still fashion a God to himself after his likeness and after his image. There must be moral likeness between the worshipper and the Being worshipped. Man’s powers of abstraction are very great, but he is wholly unable to choose all the good and refuse all the evil in his own heart, to draw out the precious from the vile, and rejecting all baser metal, cast the pure gold only into the furnace, that thereout may come a God worthy to be loved with all our mind and heart, and soul, and strength. To test how far man’s powers of abstraction go in this direction, we must transport ourselves outside the pale of Christendom altogether; we must not take account of what so-called Theists have taught, who have borrowed without acknowledgment the light of the knowledge of God revealed in the Old and New Testa¬ ment Scripture. It is from the philosophers of Greece, Rome, and China, the only teachers of whose wisdom we have any authentic account, that we shall learn how far man’s unassisted powers can attain to the knowledge of God. The result of a careful comparison appears to be this, that the wiser heathen could see the folly of the popular religion, and there stood still, rejecting superstition, but having nothing to put in its stead. Or if they advanced beyond this they draw out their conceptions of the divine so far as to personify a Great Intelligence, who was either the soul of the world, or the great over-soul, according as their views leaned to Pantheism or not. Thus they either contentedly adopted Atheism, or worshipped an abstraction, an idol of the den, called the Supreme Mind. and Philosophic Views of the Soul. 25 Thus, as the first postulate of Natural Religion, the Being of God, was never distinctly understood, it is not likely that the second or third were so apprehended that men could put the three together and act upon them. As the knowledge of God never rose beyond an abstraction formed out of a single attribute, so the sense of duty to Him was vague and indefinite, and vaguest of all, the sense of a hereafter, in which he should live unto Him. It is on this point that we wish to inquire what the heathen really thought, and how far the popular view of the evidence from natural religion of the immortality of the soul is supported by fact. The traditions of all nations agree in this, that the expectations of man are not bounded by the grave. It would be almost superfluous to quote authorities on such a well-worn subject. The Sheol of the Hebrews, the Amenthes of the Egyptians, the Hades, Erebus, and Tartarus of the Greeks, the Patala of the Hindus, the Dowzank of the Persians, all point to the same truth, that man does not wholly die. Not to speak of such word-quibbles as the immortality of the race, which is only what man has in common with all organic life, the immortality of the individual was the point of conjecture which they wrestled with, like Jacob with the angel till the breaking of the day, unwilling to let it go, yet unable to wring from it a definite meaning. They sat before the grave, like the women who watched at the holy sepulchre, unable to roll away the stone, for it was very great, yet unwilling to think that behind the stone lay only dust and corruption. Christ, 26 Biblical Psychology it is true, has brought life and immortality to light by the gospel, but there were watchers before the dawn, those who wished for the world’s Easter-day before the day had fully come. Now men cannot look for a thing without forming some conception as to how it is to be brought about. Hope will have its forecasts, though they often prove fallacious. But as even a mistaken hope is better than none at all, we must think with respect even of the Indian’s dream of heaven in some happy hunting ground, or the Egyptian hope of the resurrection of mummies, after a general conflagra¬ tion at the end of a great cycle. In early and simple times, before the distinction be¬ tween matter and spirit had been sharply marked off, the notion was that the ghost of the man, his spirit or glassy essence, survived the death of the body, or the animal part. But the nature of soul and body was not contrasted as in later times. Just as the latest con¬ jecture of advanced thinkers in Germany is to a theory of their unity, so the starting point of all speculation appears to have been this. So true is it that speculation runs the great circle round, only, like the ancient mar¬ iner of Coleridge, to see the kirk upon the hill from which he set out.* * See the Psychological theory of Fichte, the younger, translated and edited by Mr Morrell, under the title of “Contributions to Mental Philo¬ sophy, by Immanuel Hermann Fichte,” London, Longmans, i860. Klenke has also built up a theory of correspondence between mind and body, on what may be called a system of organic psychology. Bacon seems to have thrown out a hint in that direction, when he says in the De Aug. “ that unto all this knowledge of concordance between the mind and the body, that part of the inquiry is the most necessary which considereth of the seats and domiciles which the several faculties do take and occupy.” and Philosophic Views of the Soul. 27 In Homer, the soul goes to Hades whether the body is cast to the dogs or honourably interred. So far there is separation between the two; but the non¬ mortal part is only a shadow of the mortal. Life in the shades is only a cold and colourless copy of the •picture of life upon earth. Ghosts are little else than bloodless bodies : their time is spent in useless reveries upon the past. “ The blessed ” is a phrase which we are so accustomed to apply to the dead, that it is well to remember that the thought of death being a state of blessedness was one which a heathen could not con¬ ceive. Even Achilles in the Elysian Fields declares that the life of the meanest drudge on earth is prefer¬ able to the very highest of the unsubstantial rewards of the under world. The late Archbishop Whately has, we think, gone too far in inferring, that because the conceptions of the heathen of the soul’s separate existence were thus vague and unsubstantial, that therefore they had little or no belief in the doctrine at all.* We think this is inferring too much. They knew nothing of the modus by which the soul could exist separate from the body, and therefore used vague and contradictory language on the subject. Just as a modern divine might speak of angels as incorporeal substances, and then inconsis¬ tently speak of a dead child as laid upon the lap of an angel. It would not be fair to infer from this that he did not believe in the existence of angels, but only that Novalis says, “that we touch heaven when we lay our hand on a human body.” Alas, sometimes the converse is nearer the mark. Sometimes our bodies are the temples of the Holy Ghost, but more often the house where the unclean spirit enters in to dwell there. * Whately’s Essays on Peculiarities of Christian Religion, Essay I. 28 Biblical Psychology his notions of their nature were obscure, and that from the poverty of language he was obliged to use expres¬ sions which we know to be inapplicable. In the same way we ought to infer, not that the heathen assigned to the souls of the deceased a kind of shadowy exist¬ ence corresponding to their own indistinct conceptions —a sort of intermediate condition between being and not being, resembling our recollections of a dream or a fancy, an intermediate state between the vivid impres¬ sion produced by a real present object and no impres¬ sion at all. We should rather say, that they held, as we do, the soul to be the man, the centre of person¬ ality, but that they were at a greater loss even than we are to conceive of the man acting and thinking ■ without the proper organs of thought and action— brain, blood, pulse, and nerve. We are no better off in this respect than they are, as every reader of Bishop Butler’s first chapter of the Analogy knows already— and they are no worse off than we. When a Chris¬ tian poet, such as Dante or Milton, has to describe the under world and its inhabitants, he has only the tongues of men with which to describe the operations of angels. He may excel, as Milton does, in idealising the subject, or come short in this, as Dante, but what he gains in one direction he loses in another. Mil¬ ton’s under world is less fabulous than that of Dante, but it is not near so vivid. What Milton imagined Dante imaged forth — the first was a cartoon, but the other a statue hewed from the living stone. We should say then that in the age of Homer the existence of the soul after death was believed in as and Philosophic Views of the Soul. 29 firmly as in later times; but as language had not at- attained the same philosophical precision, the mode of its existence was spoken of under certain corporeal emblems which gave a confused impression as to its existence at all. The picture was blurred and the light crossed; but as far as it went it was a true ex¬ pression of one of our deepest convictions, that man does not wholly die when the body dies. Those who infer, as Archbishop Whately does, that the obscurity of the notions of the heathen with regard to the life hereafter implies their unbelief of the fact itself, forget the distinction between faith and knowledge. Know¬ ledge is of things we see. The conviction even of an apostle in the truth of a life to come must stop short of positive knowledge. There is a “great gulf fixed ” for us as well as for them; so that we too, as well as the heathen, must walk by faith, and not by sight. Our faith, it is true, is grounded on a fact— the resurrection of Christ from the dead; consequently it is a good hope which maketh not ashamed. Never¬ theless, it is faith, not certainty; hope, not sight; for what a man seeth, why doth he yet hope for ? Existence after death is the postulate, then, of natural religion, which has never been quite effaced from the mind of man, notwithstanding his fall and lapse into idolatry. This is that innate truth, as some would call it—the spiritual instinct, as we prefer to describe it—which has never been killed, but which gropes for its end as bees do to build cells and make honey, whatever the obstacles we may put in their way. All theories among the heathen as to the nature 30 Biblical Psychology of the life to come fall under two divisions, according as they date before or after the rise of philosophy. Before the age of speculation men believed in a future life, but described it under the fables of the poets. They described the soul, as we have seen before, as a kind of bloodless body, a ghost that flitted bat-like through the shades of sunny memories, and lived on the Elysian fields as old pensioners do with us, shoulder¬ ing their crutches, and showing how fields were won. But with the age of speculation the belief in a future state was moulded by the distinction which now ob¬ tained between mind and matter. Man’s nature was made up of two parts—one animal, the other spiritual; one obeying instinct, and the other reason; one earthly, and the other God like; one mortal, and the other immortal. The immortality of the soul was accepted as an axiom as undeniable as the mortality of the body. Either man perishes altogether with the brutes that perish (for the Buddhist theory of trans¬ migrations or incarnations never really took hold of the western mind), or he lives beyond the grave in that part of his nature which is inherently immortal. Speculation had no sooner forged this distinction be¬ tween mind and matter than the whole theory of the immortality of the soul was hammered out at once and on the same anvil. Modern metaphysicians have added nothing to the argument for the immortality of the soul. As a principle of unity it was indiscerptible and indestructible ; as a principle of motion, it was in¬ capable of rest; as a vital principle, it was incapable of annihilation; as a self-conscious principle, it was and Philosophic Views of the Soul. 31 incapable of oblivion. Descartes, Addison, Mendels¬ sohn, and Bishop Butler have dressed up these a priori proofs in their own words, but they are already as well expressed in the Phcedo of Plato. It is singu¬ lar that a theory which has received such universal assent has been so little improved by the ages of speculation which have turned it over and over. In the pages of a popular manual like Dick’s u philosophy of the future state ” it comes out substantially the same argument as when hammered for the first time on the anvil of the Socratic dialogue. Kant was cer¬ tainly not the first to point out the fallacy of the popular Platonic argument; but since Kant’s cele¬ brated Critique it is now admitted by all who think on the subject that between the belief of the non-mor¬ tality of the soul and the philosophical proof of its im¬ mortality there is a wide gulf which the a priori argu¬ ments of the Phmdo fail to bridge over. Augustine’s distinction between the holiness of the creature and the Creator may be applied to these arguments for our immortality. Of the creature it is true that it may attain to the state posse non peccare , and so posse non mori; but to God alone does it inherently belong both non posse peccare and non posse mori. The God that cannot lie is the God that cannot die; for all others, from the angel of the presence down to the babe born to-day, God is their life, and God is their light. He alone is the fountain of life as well as of holiness. Thus, as the instinct or moral sense of existence after death took one shape when handled by the poets, 2 2 Biblical Psychology. so it took another from the philosophers. Supersti¬ tion encrusted it with fables, and speculation set it up on the treacherous foundations of certain a priori prin¬ ciples The modern world has outgrown these super¬ stitious fables. With the exception of those who cling to the old pagan notion of purgatory, in which Virgil, not Paul, is fitly chosen as Dante’s guide, our age be¬ lieves in a life to come on different grounds from those on which the ancients supposed that the hollow parts of the earth were full of the ghosts of men, as the graves were of their bodies. But the religious and spiritual instinct has not discharged itself of the speculative ele¬ ment in the.same way that it has of the supeistitious. To this day the majority of divines, consciously or not, underprop their argument for existence after death (the instinct of which we admit) by a scholastic argu¬ ment of the soul’s immortality. The first chapter of Bishop Butler’s great work might be cut out as we conceive, leaving the rest of the Analogy only stronger for the rejection of this its weakest point. Yet to this day divines commend this attempt to lay the founda¬ tions of revealed religion deep in the solid rock of first truths and self-evident principles. “ For,” they say, u ^ t h e foundations be removed, what shall the right¬ eous do ?” If men doubt the immortality of the soul, there is nothing before us but materialism, nihilism, or what not. So divines reason, forgetting that the dilemma is of their own making. They have made natural religion the base of revealed, and the super¬ structure must stand or fall with its foundations. But the fault is not in the Bible, but in its advocates. and Philosophic Views of the Soul. 33 They have assumed two philosophical antinomies, spiritualism and materialism, and challenged every be¬ liever in the Bible to take his side for the one and against the other. Undoubtedly, as St. Paul before the council took sides with the Pharisees against the Sadducees, the Scripture doctrine of the life to come is nearer to the spiritualist than to the materialist side of the controversy. But, properly speaking, the Bi¬ ble sides with neither, but takes a line of its own, in which existence after death depends not on our pos¬ sessing any inherently immortal principle, but on God being a living God, and on the truth that all who live (as God said of Abraham to Moses in the bush, four hundred years after his body had seen corruption), live unto God. Our blessed Lord, in refuting the Sadducees, would have used the common argument of Plato and Butler if He had countenanced its truth. It was readier and more obvious to common apprehension than the other, grounded on a verbal criticism of the expression “I am ” in the Book of Exodus. But he passed it by as inconclusive, as either proving too much or nothing at all, and took his stand on the ground which is everywhere appealed too in the Bible, that God is life, and the promise, As I live, ye shall live also. The doctrine of the immortality of the soul grows, as we have seen, out of the instinct of its non-mortality. The latter statement by no means sustains the weight of the former. It is one thing to deny materialism, ano¬ ther thing to affirm spiritualism fit is one thing to stand c 34 Biblical Psychology , on the instinct non omnis moriar , another thing to say, that the part which does not die possesses a principle of unity, life, and consciousness, and is thus inherently immortal In the case of Plato such an argument was not only allowable, it was virtuous and praiseworthy. Reason¬ ing in the night of nature, being, as other Gentiles without God and without hope^ it was noble to choose the better part; to say of man, “He thinks he was not born to die.” It was heroic to look death in the face and say, “Oh, death, thou art but a birth, the second birth of the immortal soul.” Plato knew not, as we do, that death is the wages of sin. Dissolution must either be a law or a penalty ; and those who saw the law of dissolution obtaining everywhere else, could not help conceiving of it as a law in the case of man. “ Omnia mors poscit, lex est, non poena perire. But we are taught differently. We know that death is a penalty, and not a law, in the case of man, and therefore the arguments which Plato used to prove the natural immortality of the soul cannot be used by us, who view death and life in a different light. We have no right, moreover, to take just so much of Pla¬ to’s argument as suits our purpose, and reject the rest. We cannot say that it is a self-evident truth that there is a deathless principle in man, but that we learn from the Bible that this deathless principle is separated from the body as the wages of sin. This is the “ one foot on land one foot on sea” kind of argument which is popularised in tracts, sermons, and bodies of divinity too numerous to mention. It is this amalgam of Plato and Paul which passes for Christian spiritualism, and and Philosophic Views of the Soul. 35 is the received and so-called orthodox psychology of the age. Before we can lay the foundations of a true scriptural psychology, this pretended spiritualism must be cleared away. The confusion in the popular mind between the instinct for a future life grounded on the great spiritual truth that “it is appointed unto men once to die, and after death the judgment,” and the argument for the soul one and indivisible, must be cleared up. The only first truths or axioms we recog¬ nise are these, that there is a God, that there is a judgment to come, and that the need of this judgment to come is a moral instinct as real and deep as the need of righteousness, temperance, or any other in¬ stinct of our moral nature. We are not, then, to look for the foundations of a sound and Scriptural system of psychology in the dog¬ ma of the soul’s natural immortality as taught in the schools of philosophy. Superstition and speculation have both, out of the instinct of a future life, constructed a theory of their own, in which all that is true is the voice of conscience commending the truth that it is appointed unto man once to die, and after death the judgment. We find no more support for Chris¬ tian psychology in the reasonings of the philosopher than in the fancies of the poet. Not knowing that the sting of death is sin, how could Plato under¬ stand either the true significance of death, or wherein eternal life really consists ? Yet the Platonic theory of the immortality of the soul is regarded as a founda¬ tion truth essential to Christianity itself by those who would reject with horror the Platonic theory of pre- ^6 Biblical Psychology , existence, or the Platonic dogma of the inherent evil of matter, out of which most of the errors of the Alex¬ andrian school arise. As with the idea of God the philosopher only exchanged the idols of the theatre for the idols of the cave, and rejecting Polytheism fell into Pantheism; so with regard to the soul, in rejecting the materialism of earlier times, he fell into a spiritual¬ ism quite as wide of the mark. In Homer’s age, the ghost of a man was the breath which went out of his body, and so was little more than a mateiial emana¬ tion from the same. But philosophy in later times went into the other extreme,—the soul was the man, the body was only the house of clay that contained it. The metaphor from a house to its inhabitants, or a ship to its crew, or a pitcher to the water in it, were marked out with such detail by the Neo-Platomsts m particular, that by some it was taught to be a misfor¬ tune that man had a body at all. The fall consisted in being clothed upon with flesh. Redemption was no¬ thing else than the shaking off this mortal coil. So far were these spiritualist notions carried, that the eai ly Church looked upon Platonism, not as a useful ally, but as a dreaded rival, the fountain-head of all the Gnostic heresies which arose to vex the Church. The natural immortality of the soul, so far from being ac¬ cepted as an outwork to Scripture truth, was opposed as a rival theory to the Christian doctrine of the re¬ surrection of the body. In Augustine’s time the re¬ conciliation between the two began to appear. But the writers of the first four centuries, with hardly an exception, regard the two theories as antagonist, and and Philosophic Views of the Soul. 37 sought not to reconcile, but to replace the Platonic doctrine of the soul’s natural immortality with the Christian doctrine of the resurrection of the body. But with change of times there came a change of opinions. The prevalent tendency of modern error, at least until our own day, was towards a blank and dreary materialism. Hence it was that Christian ad¬ vocates were glad to furbish up weapons that had once been used against themselves. The immortality of the soul was the strong point of spiritualism which the Church now thought she could turn in her favour. We see this alliance between spiritualism and Christianity consummated and carried to its highest point in Bishop Butler, not only in his theory of the supremacy of conscience, but especially in his argu¬ ment for the existence of an indestructible principle in man. We see what services spiritualism could render to the cause of truth. Let us not be ungenerous, or deny that in routing materialism out of the field, we are thankful for help from the opposite quarter. But all such alliances are dangerous, and the price which the Christian advocate has to pay is to find himself held responsible for a philosophy in addition to his creed. He is not as free as before to go direct to the lively oracles, and seek truth at first hand, from the fountain-head. He must search the Scriptures for proof texts, rather than bring his mind to read text and context together. These are some of the many evils which alliances of this kind bring with them. What tradition is to the Church of Rome, that natural religion is to many of our reformed divines, a top load 38 Biblical Psychology . enough to sink itself and Scripture. Christian Psy¬ chology will never deserve its name until it cuts itself off from entangling alliances with the schools, as Christian ethics have done. As Wardlaw and Chal¬ mers cleared up the confusion between natural virtue and Christian holiness, as if they were only different names for the same thing, so we wish to point out that the Psychology of the Bible is something distinct from that of the schools, and that whatever points it may have in common with spiritualism, it has points in common no less with materialism, and is itself, when rightly understood, a third theory of human nature distinct from both, and with as little real affinity with the one as with the other. THE ACCOUNT OF THE CREATION OF MAN. It has been often remarked that Scripture does not teach us either the nature of God or of ourselves, as books of systematic divinity do. As its teaching on other truths is at u sundry times and divers manners,” so with regard to this truth. It is for the divine to collect these intimations, and put them together into some system or other. According as he does this faithfully or not does he acquit himself of the task which he has taken in hand. We have only another caution to make before en¬ tering on our task: it is that revelation being a pro¬ gressive manifestation of the truth of God, the dis¬ covery of man’s nature must be also progressive. Further, if there be some correspondence between the trichotomy of man’s nature, spirit, soul, and body, and the Persons of the Triune Jehovah, it is only what we might expect, that the same air of enigma that hangs over the one should also hang over the other. Till the Spirit was given we are not to expect the nature of man’s spirit to be more than alluded to. As the distinct personality of the Holy Spirit is implied but not expressed in the Old Testament, so the distinction 40 The Creation of Man. between the Psyche and Pneuma is latent there also. We should feel it to be a difficulty if the tripartite nature of man were described as such in those books of the Bible which only contain implied hints of the plurality of persons in the Godhead. All we shall see of the subject will confirm this view of the harmonious way in which doctrines and duties, the nature of God and the nature of man, are unfolded together. Consistent with the foregoing remark the account of the creation of man (Gen. ii. 7) rather implies than asserts the trichotomy of spirit, soul, and body. It is by the light of later Scriptures that we see that the breath of lives there refers not to the animal and psychical part only, but to a pneumatical as well. Passing over the account of man in Gen. i. 26, which rather describes what man was intended to be, than what he actually is, his office more than his nature, his place in the cosmos than the elements out of which he was formed, we turn to the second of the two narratives. We would further premise that the second in order is the first in human interest. Chapter i. re¬ fers indeed rather to man’s dignity as the headstone of the temple of Creation—chapter ii. to the nature of man, and the mode of his creation. Chapter i. is theological, chapter ii. anthropological,—for the psy¬ chology of man we must address ourselves therefore to the second of the two accounts of his formation. We read Gen. ii. 7. “ And the Lord God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of lives, and man became a living soul.” The narrative here points out two distinct Ihe Creation of Man. 41 sources from whence man was taken. 1. Of the dust of the ground, fashioned by the hand of God, as the potter fashions the clay (W). 2. Of the breath of lives breathed into his nostrils by the creative spiiit of God. Three points here arrest our attention, and suggest the true key to the threefold nature of man. A. The material cause. The Lord God took of the dust of the ground. B. The formal cause. He breathed into his nostrils the breath of lives. C. The final cause. And so man became a living soul. A. As to the material cause there can be little dis¬ pute. Man is made of the dust of the ground—this is the base or ultimate elements of his animal nature. Hence in all probability the name given to man, Adam from Adamah, to indicate that the first man was of the earth earthy. The other derivations of 1. On ac¬ count of the red colour of his skin, (comp. Joseph. Antiq. i. 1,5), in the same way as the Chinese represent man as kneaded of yellow earth, and the red Indians of red clay; and 2. Adam as if for tn equivalent to with a reference to his being made in the image of God ; or 3. for D*i blood, are all fanciful and far-fetched. The inspired historian has pledged us to one deri¬ vation, and to that we must adhere. Adam is IP nnnsn" dust of the earth. Hence the penalty of death is this, that dust he is, and unto dust he must return. He had chosen to indulge the animal part of his nature, to hearken to the voice of his wife, and through her to follow instinct and not reason, hence he is condemned 42 The Creation of Man. to share the fate of the animal. Dust he is, and unto dust he must return. Dissolution is the law of all organic being. We have no reason to suppose the animal world before the fall to have been any excep- tion to this law. The exception only began with man. He would have been translated had he con¬ tinued sinless. He would not have seen death, but have been changed in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, even as Eve was taken from his side during the deep sleep into which he was cast by God. He would have passed away in a trance, in which there would have been neither pain nor penalty; mortality would have been swallowed up of life, and the cor¬ ruptible would have put on incorruption. But with his transgression Adam had to take the physical as well as the spiritual consequences of sin. His animal nature was degraded to the condition of the rest of the animal world, and from the day that he ate of the forbidden fruit, dying, he began to die, until he re¬ turned to the earth out of which he was first taken. So much for the first or material part of man. B. Next we read of the formal and efficient cause of man. The Lord God breathed into his nostrils the breath of lives. We speak of the formal and efficient cause in one, not because we wish to con¬ found the agent with the instrument, but because the instrument is in this case of the same nature as the agent. The Lord God is the efficient cause— doubtless the Holy Spirit, the Lord and giver of life. But the instrument He uses is the breath of lives. It is clear that the breath is here of the same 43 The Creation of Man. nature as the Being who breathes it. Holy Scrip¬ ture is everywhere careful not to confound creation with emanation. Unlike all other cosmogonies, in the Mosaic the heavens and the earth are made by the word of the Lord. He spake and they were made ; He commanded, and they stood fast. When we speak of creation out of nothing, we use a verbal contradic¬ tion to express a mystery which is only to be under¬ stood by faith. It is better expressed in the words of the apostle (Heb. xi. 3) that “ the things which are seen, are not made of the things which do appear. So when we read of the formation of the animal part of man, no expression is used which would counte¬ nance the thought of any community of nature be¬ tween the creature and the Creator. But when we are told of that part of man’s nature in which he is the image and likeness of God, as there is a higher nature communicated, so it is conveyed in a different way. The spirit of man is not a mere act of crea¬ tion, but rather an act of pro-creation. “ For we are also his offspring.” It is not as in the Chaldean myth that a drop of the Divine blood is mixed with clay of the ground, but the breath of God breathes into man that rational and moral nature which makes us in a sense partakers of the very nature of God himself. The plural form, “ breath of lives,” may or may not, refer to the twofold division into the intellectual and active powers, or the natural and moral as generally adopted by psychologists. Some consider it only the pluralis dignitatis , as the tree of life is also called the etz chayim , and there are several instances in which the plural 44 The Creation of Man. form is used where we should use the singular. Or the plural form may refer to the truth that the spi¬ ritual life which was breathed into man’s nostrils was a life which he had in common with God, and which is the life of God in the soul. The spirit of man is the candle of the Lord. Bishop Sanderson* explains con- scientia as the knowledge of good and evil which we have in common with God. In this sense the breath of lives may be used in the plural to convey the deep truth that the spirit’s life never can be solitary. While with regard to all other created spirits we can lead a self-contained life, we cannot live out of God’s pre¬ sence. He is ever present to the spirit, even as the world of nature lives in Him. He is the Father of spirits, and more than this, our spirits, individual though they be, and immortal as they may become, live unto Him. In a much deeper and more intimate sense than in the case of our animal life, He is the spring and support of all spiritual life. Our spirits live, and move, and have their being in Him: our bodies rather live and move through Him. To our spirits He is eternally present. As the Psalmist says, we cannot flee from His presence, even if we take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the earth. But more than this, if we go into the depths of our own self-consciousness, if we say, perad- venture there the darkness shall cover me, still we shall find that the darkness is no darkness to Him. He sees us from within, not from without, as others do. Man looks upon the outward appearance, and * See “ Sanderson de Obligatione Conscientiae,” Whewell’s edit. 45 The Creation of Man. judges of the thoughts by the words and actions. Nor is he always unjust in this kind of judgment. But God sees from within. He tries the reins, and understands our thoughts long ago. He foresees, as we cannot, what our conduct will be, for he sees the germ of murder in hatred, or of adultery in a lasci¬ vious eye. Thus the life of our spirit is a double life in a sense which would abundantly justify the plural form. We pass by as frivolous the explanation that the breath of lives refers to the fact, that as man has two nostrils, it was a divided or a double breath. It is nothing to the point through which of the organs of sense the first inspiring breath of God passed. The nostrils are referred to as the organs through which we draw in natural breath, and therefore in man “ a being breathing thoughtful breath,” the breath of God’s Spirit, which is the higher life of man, passed in at the same channel, and doubtless at the same moment, as the natural breath. Had God made man with an animal life only, there would have been some Divine afflatus, doubtless, to animate the clay, for even of the lower world, it is said, “Thou takest away their breath, and they die.” But since man, though veiled in flesh, was made a spiritual being, a higher or spiritual life was conveyed at the same time as the lower and through the same channel, the nostrils ; but lest we should ever confound the two together, it is said that “ the Lord God breathed into man’s nostrils.” We gather from this expression of dignity that the creation of his spirit was not some 4 6 The Creation of Man ♦ new transformation of matter, as when the earth brought forth abundantly cattle and creeping things, but was an emanation direct from God Himself. C. And man became a living soul. This is the third and final cause of man’s nature. God having given him an animal life out of the dust of the ground, and a spiritual life by emanation from Himself, the soul, or tertium quid of body and spirit, is next re¬ ferred to. “ So man became a living soul.”* He awoke, as Moses was said to have died on Pisgah, beneath the kiss of God. The general expression, Nephesh Chayah , a living soul, which is applied to the animal creation as well as to man, well expresses the nature of man’s soul at present, midway between matter and spirit—a little lower than the angels, a little higher than the brute. The popular view of this expression, man became a living soul, is clearly incorrect. It is an instance of the loose and unsatis¬ factory views of psychology for which our popular commentators are mainly responsible. So far from the expression Nephesh Chayah indicating any differ¬ ence between man and the brutes, it would rather, taken by itself, suggest a community of nature. Of the lower creation spoken of in chap, i., it is said that they became living souls, and the Hebrew Nephesh, instead of suggesting any idea of immateriality, much * Kai i'ytveTo 6 (LvOpuriros els \f/vxv v pwcrai'— So the LXX. and so St Paul i Cor. xv. 45. The force of eis is local. The LXX. rightly rendering the Heb. by eis, which implies that the soul is the meeting point of two opposite natures, the flesh and the spirit. Here also remark the contrast be¬ tween the first and seeond Adam—the soul is the terminus ad quern in the one case, the spirit in the other. 47 The Creation of Man. less immortality, is the general expression used for all animal life. It is used indifferently of man and beast, each after its kind. The one after death going up¬ ward, and the other downward; but taken by itself Nephesh is perfectly general; it is the anima , not the animus of the Latins, the individual, as contrasted with the species, whether that individual possess a reasonable soul, or a soul capable of instinct only.* It is in this indeterminateness of the expression, a living soul, that we see the accuracy of Bible Psy¬ chology, and get a clue for all our after inquiries. The soul, which we may here provisionally describe as the ego, or the nexus between matter and mind— is the meeting point between the higher and the lower natures in man. It is referred to in Gen. ii. 7, in such terms that we cannot fail to see that an exact system of psychology is here alluded to. Whatever allowance may be made for the loose and popular ex¬ pressions of the Bible with regard to astronomy and the positive sciences generally, we neither expect nor desire such indulgence to be extended to its use of psychological terms. For the Bible does profess to teach us, if not the details, at least the main outlines of a true psychology. It lays down for our instruc¬ tion the two natures of man—the animal and the spiritual, and then describes Nephesh as the union * Individual and person are very often loosely used as synonyms, whereas individual is opposed to species, person to nature. Each animal per se is an ens individuum, and has an identity as such—but it has not personality. Man alone is ‘‘person and nature,” as the Germans say—person as to his higher nature as to his lower or animal life. Inattention to this distinction lies at the root of the old controversy as to the nature of man between the spiritual¬ ists and the sensualists. ^3 ^he Creation of Man. point between the two. Man became a living soul, in the sense that his Nephesh or self is the meeting point, or tertium quid of these two natures, body and spirit. Thus the narrative in Genesis stands out distinct and contrasted, as well from spiritualist as from ma¬ terialist theories of human nature. Considering the temptation that there is to adopt one of the two con¬ flicting psychological theories, and to take sides either with the idealists or the sensualists, it deserves to rank with other proofs of the inspiration of Scripture, that it should have described the constitution of man in a way which all our later investigations tend to confirm the truth of. We may amplify and illustrate the psychology of Gen. 11. 7, but here is substantially, and in the fewest possible words, all that we know of the sources of man’s nature and their union-point, the soul. To write the history of the soul would be to write a history of philosophy. For this word is the standard around which the battle has raged from the dawn of speculation down to our day. From Con¬ fucius to Comte, and from the Elean school of Zeno to Hegel, the controversy has been waged, and is no nearer a settlement, as far as physicians and metaphy¬ sicians are concerned, in our day, than when it first broke out. But those who have no wish to take a side, and who only search for truth, no matter where it comes from, are drawing nearer every day to the settlement which Moses pointed out centuries before the schools began to dispute. They see that in the soul of man the animal and the spirit meet and combine in 49 The Creation of Man. a union so intimate, that after their union their sepa¬ rate existence may be said to be destroyed. Just as oxygen and hydrogen gas, when uniting in certain fixed proportions, lose all the properties of gas and become water, a substance which seems to have little or nothing in common with its two constituent ele¬ ments, so the animal and the spirit, combined in cer¬ tain proportions, as definite as those of oxygen and hydrogen, though not as easily described by numerical ratios, produce a third, and apparently distinct nature, which we call the soul.* * Goschel sets out, in his short and most suggestive treatise on Psychology, by setting forth this unity of two natures in one person—body and spirit merging in the personal soul, as the true idea of man. It is sin, therefore, which in this sense has created the dualism in human nature by which we speak of the flesh and the spirit as contrary the one to the other. This view is undeniably true.—See Goschel zur Lehr von dem Menschen. D the relation of body to soul in SCRIPTURE. The relation between body and soul, and spirit, is implied rather than asserted in Scripture. We are not told in the language of the schools that reason is the governing principle, and sense the subject, 01 that the will as the middle point between the two is bound, to follow reason, and to resist the motions of appetite. The scholastic method is not the scriptural, but the two are not therefore opposed. It is possible to draw out a right theory of the relation of the animal to the spiritual and rational nature in man, from the teaching of Scripture, and to throw it into a scheme like that of Aristotle, if desirable. The first point to be ascertained is the connection which Scripture points out between soul and body. What light does the physiology of the Bible throw upon its psychology. We set out with disclaiming to find any intimation of a knowledge of the truths of modern physiology in the Bible. It is not necessary to suppose that Moses or Solomon were inspired to anticipate the discoveries of Hervey and Bell, any more than of Newton or Lyell. The three great discoveries which have rewarded modern anatomy, are the circula¬ tion of the blood, the brain as the organ of thought, The Relation of Soul to Body , etc . 51 and the nervous system as the organ of feeling and motion. There is no trace of these to be found in the Hebrew Scriptures, as there is certainly none in the writings of Aristotle, or of any physiologist of his school. The truth so obvious to us, that the brain is the centre of sentient and rational life, was not even suspected until the age of the Ptolemies.* Plato, it is true, has a conjecture in the right direction, but it was only a lucky guess, and does not deserve to be accre¬ dited as a fact of discovery. He considers that God and matter are the archetypes, and that the first form which matter assumes is triangular. Out of these triangles are composed four elements, and from these four elements, with an addition of a quintessence, the soul, man is formed. He considers the spinal marrow to be the part first formed, that the marrow then covers itself with bones, and these bones with flesh. The soul he lodges in the brain, which he calls the con¬ tinuation of the spinal marrow, and the ligaments by which the latter is held in its place, he looks on as the bonds connecting mind with matter. But this theory of the brain as the seat of the soul was only a guess unsupported by a single experiment, and so physiolo¬ gists return to the old opinion that the heart was the centre of life, that the nerves conducted to it, and that by the heart we felt, perceived, and reasoned. Aris- * In this he was preceded by Pythagoras, who was the first who isolated the vovs in the brain. Alcmazon, his pupil, considered the brain as the organ as well of perception as of thought. In like manner the younger Hippocratic school and most of the Alexandrian physicians. It is somewhat remarkable that the book of Daniel (v. ii., 28 iv., 2, 7, 10, vii , 1, 15) considers the head as the seat of visions. Delitzsch rightly notices that in this book is the only trace of the reference of spiritual-psychical events to the head. ^2 yhe Relation of totle clung to the opinion that the brain is a mere excrescence of the spinal marrow, adapted by its usual coldness and moisture to allay the fire at the heart, and it was not until the Alexandrian physicians, Erasistratus and Herophilus, by dissecting the bodies of criminals given for examination in the medical schools, overturned the old opinion that the heart was the seat of the soul. But language does not advance with the advance of scientific ideas. To this day the heart is popularly supposed to be the centre of feeling, though not of thought. We speak of a large heart and a feeling heart, of the heart bleeding and so on. The head and the heart are indeed contrasted to this day, as if the one were the seat of intelligence, the other of feeling. By and bye we shall give up the absurdity of bleeding hearts with its accompanying jingle of cupid’s darts, but our language at present is in the transition state, and if the transfer of the capital of Mansoul from the middle of the body to the crown is not complete, it is at least going on. We know that it is an accommodation to prejudice to speak of the heart as in any sense the organ of perception and feeling. As the heart, then, and not the brain was supposed to be the centre of thought and feeling, we find in Scripture expressions used of the heart which we should apply now to the head. Not only do we read of a broken and a contrite heart, a clean heart, an honest and a good heart, an evil and a hard heart, a gross and a fat heart, expressions in which the heart is spoken of as the seat of the moral affections: it is Soul to Body in Scripture . 53 also spoken of as the seat of the intellectual acts as well. God opens a man’s eyes, not as we should say to pour knowledge into his head, but into his heart. Solomon is given wisdom and largeness of heart, the disciples are fools and slow of heart. When we should speak of sluggish brains, the Hebrews spoke of a slow heart, when we should speak of a man taking a thing into his head, they speak of laying it to heart. It is needless to multiply instances of this, which any Eng¬ lish reader can do for himself, but it is worthy of notice that while there are hundreds of passages in which the heart is said to be the seat of certain internal and mental acts of thought and feeling, we have not been able to find a single instance of the head being more than the summit of the body in the external sense only.* In Scripture the head is thus contrasted with the feet, but not with the heart. From the crown of the head to the sole of the foot, the whole body is diseased according to Isaiah, but the fountain of the disease is in the heart, from whence, as our Lord teaches, pro¬ ceed evil thoughts, &c. Blessings rest, it is true, upon the head of the just, but this is because the blessings come down from above, and fall first on the head. It is like the anointing oil which descends from the head even to the skirts of Aaron’s clothing. The head is the summit of man’s external and bodily form, but it is not the capital or seat of empire. Nothing goes * Einhorn, quoted by Delitzsch, rightly remarks on the distinction between the use of the head and the heart in the Old Testament. “ The head is to the external appearance what the heart is to the internal agency of the soul, and only on this view is a prominent position given to it in the biblical point of view.” 54 The Relation of into the head and nothing comes out of it. The in¬ ference so obvious to us that as the chief senses, sight, hearing, smell, taste, were all clustered round the brain, and in close communication with it, the brain and not the heart must be the centre of thought, does not seem to have occurred to the ancients. Misled by a false analogy between warmth and intelligence, they assumed that the cold white and grey matter of the brain could not be the instrument of thought, and they therefore placed the seat of the soul, and the centre of the nervous system, at the fountain-head of the blood, for the blood was the life, and where the life was warmest, there the seat of the soul undoubtedly must be. But while the Hebrews thus made a twofold error with regard to the heart, not assigning to it its true function, and assigning to it others which do not belong to it, it would be wrong to suppose that they material¬ ised the soul as the modern phrenological school do. The soul inhabited the heart, but it was not a function of the heart; as intellect and feeling are functions of the brain among modern physiologists, whose views incline to materialism. The inhabitant of the house was not confounded with the house itself. While not going as far as the later Platonists, who not only dis¬ tinguished soul from body, but spoke of the union of spirit with flesh, as an imprisonment, a disgrace, and the punishment of sins perhaps committed in a pre¬ existent state, they certainly did not localize the soul so exclusively in the heart, as the new school of physiology do in the brain. The heart was the chief 55 Soul to Body in Scripture , but not the only centre. Generally the reins and the bowels are referred to, the one as the seat of moral reflection, or as we should say, of conscience, the other of affection. Bowels of mercies is a Hebraism found in the New Testament, and exactly corresponding to /3 c%o 5 dogfc weight of glory, or x dp/e sitfvn. As m the two latter expressions the East and West combine their form of expression, and pile up weight upon glory, peace upon grace—so in the phrase bowels of mercies, the mercy and the organ whose function it is to express feeling, are both spoken of to show how entire and deep the affection was. It was a mercy which went through and through a man s nature, an affection which indeed affected not the mind only, but as all deep affections do, the body as well, of him who felt it. The reins or kidneys, in the same way, are spoken of as the seat of reflection, as the bowels are of affec¬ tion. God tries the reins, chastens the reins, sends his arrows of conviction into the reins (Lam. iii. 13)* The reins are coupled with the heart as the seat of secret thoughts, which God is entreated to examine and try. To sum all up, as the physiology of the Bible is that of the age when it was written, in all these passages in which psychology touches upon physiology, we find that those organs of the body are spoken of as the organs of thought and feeling which are directly sympathetic with thought and feeling. The heart, the liver, and the diaphragm are organs so sympathetic with our emotions that it requires more knowledge of anatomy than the ancients possessed, 56 The Relation of not to go a step farther, and make them the very centres from which these affections flowed. When a tale of shame and suffering causes the heart to beat and the colour in consequence to mount up into the cheek, it is difficult to resist the impression that the heart is bleeding, because the feeling soul is beating its pulsations thus. The fancy of Shakespeare that the blood of Julius rushed out of doors to see if Brutus so unkindly knocked or no, is only a poetic way of expressing the general fact that the heart is the foun¬ tain and the blood the river of life, and that, “ like the ebb and flow of the Euripus,” the tides of feeling flow to and from the heart. Thus, while Scripture assumes the connection be¬ tween mind and body, it is everywhere silent as to the nature of that connection. It distinguishes certain chief organs which the soul plays upon, as a musician on a harp, lute, or lyre; but it nowhere touches the question which of these is the chief instrument, or whether he could discourse music without any instru¬ ment at all. The Hebrews probably inclined to the opinion that the soul was diffused through the body, and that the whole body was an organ of intelligence, and was not localised in some one organ, as modern physiologists too much incline to think.* There is a sense in which the whole body may be said to be employed, although it may conduct its principal opera¬ tions through one or two particular organs, just as the entire temple was holy, although the Deity was sup- * This is expressed in the language of the old dogmatists “ Anima in toto corpore tota et in singulis simul corporis partibus tota.” 57 Soul to Body in Scripture. posed to manifest his immediate presence in the Holy of Holies. That our bodies are to be the temples of the Holy Ghost is the argument used by the apostle to urge sanctification of our entire nature. But such an argument would be inapplicable unless in a sense the soul inhabited the whole body, and that the out¬ ward form was penetrated through and through by the inward essence. The doctrine of correspondence, which has been pressed by certain mystics to an unwarrantable length, has at least this measure of truth, that the outward is more than a veil or covering for the inward. There is a harmony between body and mind which was felt long before phrenology, cheiromancy, and other pretended explanations of it were ever thought of. The rudest tribes, as well as children, and even animals, are physiognomists to this extent at least, that they can judge very well who are their friends. The play of the involuntaiy muscles, which betray our secret sympathies and antipathies, can be read by those who have very little power of observation. The connection, indeed, between mind and body is deeper than we have yet been able to trace. It is marked out in the well-known lines of Hamlet:— “ For nature, crescent, does not grow alone In thews and bulk ; but, as this temple waxes, The inward service of the mind and soul Grows wide withal.” This harmony between the outer and the inner man, the interdependence of sense on thought and thought on sense, is the point on which our soundest physiologists 58 The Relation of are advancing every day. Discarding the old material¬ ism which made thought a secretion of the brain or blood, and the old spiritualism which taught that the spirit of man was probably that of some fallen dmmon imprisoned for a while in flesh, we are advancing in the right direction when we maintain the separate existence of the mind and body, and yet regard the former as perfectly pervading the latter, nay, as being the formative principle by which it is constructed and adapted to our nature and use.* The goal to which modern research is tending is the point where the old dualism between mind and body will not disappear, but be seen to combine with some higher law of unity that we have not as yet grasped. Physiology and psychology will not then stand con¬ trasted as they do now, but rather appear as the study of the same thing in its outward and inward aspect. The resurrection of the body, which at present is a stumbling-block to the spiritualists and foolishness to materialists, will then be found to be the wisdom of I God as well as the power of God, and the Scripture intimations of the unity of man’s true nature in one person be abundantly vindicated. Thus, according to Scripture, the body was not so much the slave of the soul, or its prison-house, as philosophy, with its dualistic view of body and mind, has constantly taught. The relation of the two may be described as sacramental; the body was the out- * For the theory of the soul as the formative principle of the body, v. Con¬ tributions to Mental Philosophy, by Immanuel Hermann Fichte ; Preface by J. D. Morell. Soul to Body in Scripture. 59 ward and visible sign of the inward and spiritual mind. The mind was not seated in one part of the body, but in the whole; did not employ one class of organs only, but all. Hence the well-known Hebraism, “ All my bones shall praise theeand the other expression, Naphshi, which we render as My soul, but which might be better expressed Myself. The entire nature of the mind breathing through the entire body.* Thus the Nephesh, which is exactly equivalent to Aristotle’s use of 'I'vxv, is not the mind , or soul, or spirit; but the man who thinks, wills, and acts. It was as foreign to Hebrew psychology as it is to modern views to suppose the mind thinking or willing without the body. Hence it was that all who clung to the belief in an existence after death, as they could not conceive of a pure dis¬ embodied spirit, supposed that death only destroyed the outer frame-work of flesh, and that there was an inner and ethereal body by which the soul continued to live * Whether under Aristotle’s i/jvxv is included what we call the thinking principle, or the soul, properly so called, does not admit of a doubt. He dis¬ tinguishes, indeed, thinking from sensation, and assigns it as a mark peculiar to the highest class of animals, man. He further argues that the reflective faculty is not the sensitive faculty in a state of repose. He says that the vovs, or intellect, is that part of the soul by which it both knows and reflects. But whether this vovs exists after separation from the body, he nowhere decides. Respecting mind and the speculative faculty, he says nothing as yet is evident (ovdbv irw / pepio/tdv) through soul and spirit. The word ^10^ does not mean the dividing between soul and spirit, as if they were separate substances. Thus we see Tertullian s objection to the trichotomy of human nature falls to the ground, if we understand the soul and spmt as ideally, not as actually separable. We distinguish rather than divide , when we speak of the three parts of man’s nature. Whether either by itself is capable of a separate entity, is more than doubtful. Body when separate from psyche, falls back under the laws of matter, and becomes, not merely an animal body, but a corpse, and soon a handful of dust and a few bones. So pneuma may not be able to maintain a separate existence when divided fiom the psyche. Without the personal soul with which the individu¬ ality is bound up, it might merge its existence into the ocean of universal Spirit, as the Buddhists think of Nirwana. Appearances seem to point to this state of the three parts of man’s nature, either that the first and second can maintain an existence separate from the third, or that the second and third can consciously exist separate from the first ; but that the psyche, the middle term of the three, must be united with the body on the one hand, to give it animal life and animal consciousness, or with the spirit on the other hand, to y 8 The 'Relation of Soul and Spirit. enable it to maintain spiritual life and spiritual con¬ sciousness. Thus, in our analytical chemistry of man’s nature we reach three ultimate atoms, three primary elements, but while the presence of the third may be detected in the compound of the first two that we call man, we are unable to catch and retain it in its simple state. Unlike oxygen, which can now be liberated from the compounds with which it has the greatest affinity, spirit is only found in its composite form, and defies our attempts to extract it pure. The sword of the Spirit does not separate, then, soul from spirit, but it separates between. The dif¬ ference is important, and is explained by the follow¬ ing metaphor of the joints and marrow. Till the first dissector put his knife through or up a bone, he might have supposed the tibia to be a hollow tube for conducting air, as the arteries were once thought to be. But the first inspection of a fresh bone taught the observer that this hollow tube was lined with marrow ; as its outer side was cased in flesh. With¬ out the bone to support it, the flesh fell away to cor¬ ruption ; so without the same nidus to rest in, the marrow would waste away and dissolve. In separat¬ ing the joints from the marrow, he would never ask himself whether either marrow or joint could main¬ tain a separate existence. So in our mental dissec¬ tion. When we reach the spirit lying within the soul, and speak of it as separable from the soul, Ter- tullian’s challenge, divide et opera , seems as inept as to request the dissector to tell you the use of the marrow apart from the bone. The anatomist is quite The Relation op Soul and Spirit. 79 content to find the use of the members of the body when in their place, without requiring to know how they work out of their place. Now as death is an abnormal state, the wages of sin, it is an unfair chal¬ lenge to ask in what way, if soul and spirit were divided, each could exist separately, and to infer that because their separate existence is to us inconceivable, that our distinction is only a verbal one, and that soul and spirit are, after all, only different names for the same thing. Yet this is the way in which this and other passages of Scripture that bear a trichotomist meaning are treated by many interpreters. To rescue these pas¬ sages from these misinterpretations, we must guard the meaning carefully ftom those exaggerations which tend to its rejection. All that ax ,? 1 ptpufpov implies is that the sword of the Spirit pierces through the soul of man into his spirit. As the soldiers lance pierced our Lord’s side till it reached the pericardium, where the blood had coagulated, and the serum became separated from the blood, so with the Divine sword. We can only know how deep the soldier pierced by the water and the blood. Had he not reached the heart, we should not have that record of the water and the blood which flowed from the Lord’s side, and which, together with the spirit, make up the three witnesses which agree in one. But penetration is not dissection. Christ’s heart was never separated from his body ; so our spirit is not separated from our soul, but it is reached, and that through the soul, un- 8 o The Relation oj Soul and Spirit. derneath which it lies, as the marrow lies underneath the joints. The piercing through the soul and penetrating into the spirit, seems to imply this, that when Divine things are realised, and the quickening Spirit has be¬ gun His convincing, converting work, not only does He discern the impulses of the soul, but also the thoughts and intents of the heart. The svOuwmuv and ewoiuv are thus contrasted, the one as the effective and emotional, the other as the directive and rational fa¬ culties. The one lie entirely within the sphere of the psyche, the other principally* of the pneuma. Multi¬ tudes hear the gospel, and it reaches only the outer psyche ; it is sown either on the highway or on the stony or thorny ground. Some, however, receive it more deeply. It does not affect them merely for a time, but it effects the work it is intended to do. That work can only be judged of by and by. The seed must germinate, bud, blossom, and finally fruit before we can say it has fallen on good ground. But even before the harvest, which is the end of the world, we may so far judge favourably if it produces convic¬ tions, and not mere passive emotions only ; if a man is * We say principally, as the “ intents of the heart ” are partly psychical, partly pneumatical. We must ever remember that, in a mixed nature like ours, while the lower can act without the higher, the higher requires the co¬ operation of the lower; the body is the vehicle of the soul, the soul of the spirit. Thus, as the soul or intellect cannot work without some activity of the brain, so the spirit, or devotional part, requires the service and help of the intellect. Mystics who dream of a state of ecstacy, in which the spirit sees God by its own light, apart from the logical intellect, transcend the laws ot human nature. As there is no act of pure intellect without the co-operation of the brain, so the spirit cannot act without the Nous or reason. It is a con¬ sortium, or rather a connubium, of two inseparable factors. The Relation of Soul a?id Spirit. 81 distressed at the discovery of indwelling sin ; if he longs for holiness, and is brought into a state of con¬ demnation, because he can neither overcome the one nor attain to the other, we may then speak of convic¬ tions of sin, righteousness, and of judgment, which are the unerring mark of the Holy Spirit’s work. When we begin to discern between mere desires after good, * and the steady self-discipline which the pursuit of it implies, we have begun to reach the proper sphere of the pneuma. Every treatise of vital and experimental religion will give us instances of this dividing between soul and spirit. Many divines correctly describe the life of God in the Spirit, though they do not give the right psychological explanation of the theological truth which they are maintaining. Our purpose is here not to write a treatise on conversion or spiritual-minded- ness, which has been done often before and better already ; but to refer to such treatises as practical il¬ lustrations, though not expositions, of this important text. hi. The next instances from Scripture of the dis¬ tinction between the Psyche and the Pneuma are these four passages, which we shall group together, in which the Psyche is spoken of as the characteristic faculty of unregenerate human nature, while the activity of the Pneuma is characteristic of the regenerate. Thus Scrip¬ ture not only treats of the distinction between the and the cmE^a, but teaches us farther that the case of the one or the other being the governing faculty, is that which distinguishes those who are not from those who are born again. F 82 The Relation of Soul and Spirit ♦ In i Cor. ii. u, the apostle lays down this prin¬ ciple, that man needs a corresponding divine faculty in order to understand divine truth ; that as the eye is the organ for seeing and the ear for hearing, so the pneuma is the organ or faculty by which we know God. It is on this that he grounds the assertion that the hidden wisdom which he preached could not be understood by the princes of this world. They did not understand it when the Lord took flesh and dwelt among us, neither do they understand now that it is preached by us his messengers. This, then, is the conclusion to which he comes, that the psychical man (v. 14) “ receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God, for they are foolishness to him ; neither can he know them, because they are spiritually discerned.” In our version, as in Luther’s, the psychical is translated as the natural man* This is not a bad translation, if we ever bear in mind the equivocal use of the word nature, that it either may mean the course of things as they are, or the course of things as they ought to be. It is in the former sense only that man is natural, or in a state of nature (i.e. fallen nature), and unable to discover divine truth of himself, or to discern it when discovered. Luther, in rendering ^^1x65 clvOocvnos by Der Naturliche Mensch, adds this description of what the natural man is: He is one who is without grace, although fully endowed with understanding, sense, and taste, * The animalis homo of the Vulgate is quite unobjectionable, and corresponds exactly enough to the of the Greeks, as the Anima of the Latins is nearly equivalent to the Psyche or vital principle of the Greek. The Relation of Soul and Spirit . 83 and apprehension. If the expression, The natural man, be taken with this qualification, it is the best rendering of -\vyj%k that we can find. Agreeing with Dean Alford (v. Jude ver. 19) that if the word were not so ill looking in our language,* psychic would be a great gain, we do not see any corresponding advan¬ tage to be gained by unsettling the English version. Every translation of the Scriptures into a language gives a fulness and depth of meaning to it which it had not before; so that while the English word Natural by itself falls far short of being the equivalent of the Greek -^uyuos, it may be deepened, as the channels of rivers are when great cities have grown up at a point a little above where they are navigable. Language is the river of human thought. The city of God, rising by the banks of that river, deepens it in proportion to the wants of that city. It brings, in one way or other, the ships to the city, or the city to the ships. If it find expressions suitable in the lan¬ guage, it uses them ; if not, it adapts them from the Greek or Hebrew, careful at the same time to na¬ turalise them at once. But when a choice occurs be¬ tween borrowing a foreign word, or adapting the ver- * We may carry our reluctance to coining new words too far. Thus, selfish, now so thoroughly naturalised in English, was a thorough barbarism two cen¬ turies ago. Talented, first used by Lady Morgan, is another instance of a word adopted in spite of the purists, and within our memory. When Mr H. Dun- das used the word starvation in the House of Commons, it was received with a roar of derision as a north country barbarism. We see no reason why soul- ish should not be used as a contrast with spiritual, as scelisch is in German. Selfish was used by the Scotch covenanters for self-seeking, as contrasted with seeking God. It is now used in a limited sense as a form of immoral conduct; otherwise the selfish nature is quite equivalent with the soulish or psychical man. 84 The Relation of Soul and Spirit . nacular term, giving it, at the same time, a suitable extension of meaning, all would admit that the latter is the right course. For this reason, we prefer to re¬ tain our English word Natural as the equivalent for the Greek 4u%/xtf;, as well because it is a true English word, as because it suggests the thought that nature, or that which is born of the flesh, is inferior to the spirit or that which is born of God, and that a generation from beneath is not enough without a regeneration from above. The psychic and pneumatic natures in man are next contrasted by the apostle, as supplying the one the centre of our present body of humiliation, the other, the centre of the glorified resurrection body. As there is, he says, 1 Cor. xv. 45, a natural body, so there is also a spiritual body. The h implies that as surely as there is a body whose centre is the psyche (for that is the force of the so surely will there be a body whose centre is the pneurna. That the first nature is a psychical nature only, he proves by the text in Gen. ii. 7, which is the ground text on which all Scrip¬ ture psychology rests. The first Adam was made a living soul,* the second Adam was made a life-giving spirit. Thus we have the text and its interpretation, and on the authority of the inspired apostle all question is set at rest as to the meaning of Gen. ii. 7. Adam, * els \pvxnv Z&aav implies more than that man became a living soul. The force of the els, as of the Hebrew E to a towards, suggests that out of two compounds of distinct essence, the earth and the divine breath, there re¬ sulted a third or the soul, as the tertium quid of matter and spirit. Man attained to a psychical nature as the resultant of two opposite forces, the one flesh, the other spirit. The RelatioJi of Soul and Spirit. 85 however he may have received the breath of lives, and was capable thus of becoming a spiritual, was only at first a living soul or creature. The Nephesh of the Hebrew, as we have seen, suggesting no higher thought than that he was a creature like others, albeit “breath¬ ing thoughtful breath.” He was of the earth, earthy, and hence his name Adam.* In his case the soul, and not the spirit, was the centre of his personality. In the order of advance upward from the lower to the higher life, the apostle shows, by comparison of divers kinds of bodies, 1 Cor. xv. 39, that this condition of Adam was necessary. Had he not been made of the earth earthy, endowed with a living soul, but not yet given the quickening spirit as the centre of his person¬ ality, there would have been a gap in creation, such a gap as man’s present nature, midway between the angel and the brute, exactly fills up. As the astrono¬ mer, by observing a disturbance in the motions of Neptune, was led to infer the existence of another planet, and to point out its orbit, so an observer of another world might have inferred the necessity for such a creature as man from observing the differences between the animal soul of the brute and the spiritual body of the angel. Reasoning from the principle that natura nil fit per saltum , he would conclude that some¬ thing between the angel and the brute was necessary to fill up the blank, and bridge over the gulf between * So homo, from humus; Mensch, a man, from Aryan root Men, to mea¬ sure—Mind and Moon are derivatives—implies the other conception. Plato derives avdpu-rros from his looking up (v. Cratylus). See Max Muller s Lectures on Language. 86 The Relation of Soul and Spirit . the animal soul and the spiritual body. The apostle reasons in this way when he says that the natural body of Adam must precede and prepare the way for the spiritual. Howbeit that was not first which was spiri¬ tual, but that which was natural, and afterward that which is spiritual. Man, as originally created, was made at the midway point between the angel and the brute, a little lower than the one, a little higher than the other. He was made, too, not perfect, but capa¬ ble of perfection; not immortal, but capable of im¬ mortality. He was given a psychical body, a body the centre and spring of which was the psyche, the “ ani- mula vagula blandula ’’ of the ancients, poised between matter and spirit, and drawn upward and downward by alternate and opposite impulses. It is futile to inquire what would have occurred had Adam’s psychical nature withstood temptation and resisted the devil. 1 hat it did not resist, by no means implies that it could not, or lessens the guilt of our first parent. But,* on the other hand, we should not describe his guilt as greater than it really was. How far the higher or pneumati- cal nature was in our first parent, whether as a germ only, or as so far grown as.. to give his transgression the character of a sin against light—a spiritual sin, as well as a sin of lust, such as St John classifies these sins—it is impossible for us to say. For our part, we incline to the view that Adam’s sin is contrasted with that of angels in this, that the one sinned in the lower part of his nature, and the other in the higher. " On this subject, see Birk’s Difficulties of Belief, p. 108. The Relation of Soul and Spirit. 87 Whether Satan’s was exclusively and entirely spiritual wickedness, and whether he is incapable of carnal wickedness, is more than we dare affirm, till the inter¬ pretation generally given to Jude 6 is set at rest. But of this we may be sure, that as Adam’s was a psychical nature, and angels’ who kept not their first estate a pneumatical, so the sin of Adam was psychical, and that of angels pneumatical Hence we see the nature of the retribution which fell on our first parent. It was partly punitive, and partly privative. The punitive part consisted in the toil and pain in which man was to eat bread and woman to bear children ; the privative part, in the forfeiture of that immortality to which he would have been advanced if, by obedience, he had obtained a right to the tree of life which is in the Paradise of God. Thus, as in the scale of creation, all advance is from the lower to the higher form of life, that was not first which was spiritual, but that which was natural. Adam, unlike the angels, was given a psychical nature; and, as he fell in that psychical nature, he forfeited for him¬ self and his posterity all right or power to attain to the pneumatical. This is the contrast which the apostle points out in 1 Cor. xv. between the two natures corresponding to the two covenant heads, the first and second Adam. As is the earthy (or the first Adam), such are they that are earthy ; and as is the heavenly, such are they also that are heavenly. This pneumati¬ cal nature, therefore, must come by spiritual birth from our spiritual head, just as the psychical nature comes by natural birth from our natural head. This distinc- 88 T’he Relation of Soul and Spirit. tion, as we shall by and by see, throws great light on the old controversy of Traducianism and Creationism. For the present it is enough to have grasped the apostle’s teaching in i Cor. xv., that as there are two distinct natures, one psychical and the other pneumati- cal, as we have seen in chap. ii. ver. 14 ; so these natures are derived, not the one from the other, as we might suppose, and some erroneously teach, but are each a distinct birth (creation would assume the point in dispute) of God, the one coming to us naturally, as the offspring of Adam; the other supernaturally, as the offspring of the second Adam: rou ya% ymg k/j,sK Acts xvii. 28. Two more texts only remain to complete our list of proof passages of the distinction in Scripture between the Psyche and the Pneuma. In St James iii. 15, the wisdom that is from beneath is described as swlyuog 'pvy/xq da.i'j.oviAfirig; and in St Jude ver. 19, the scoffers of the last days are described as 4 1 vyjxo] c 7rvs\j[jj(t firi syovrsg. We will class these two passages together as throwing light on the contrast between the natural and the spiritual man of 1 Cor. ii. 14. In the first case, St James says of the wisdom that is from beneath, that it is earthly, imyuig, and the two next predicates are thrown in to strengthen this affirmation, as well as to advance a climax. This earthly wisdom, unlike that which comes down from above, has its seat in the psychical nature only. As there is nothing heavenly about it, so it does not spring from the ‘Xvevfia,^ but only from the soul, the seat of his affections and im- The Relation of Soul and Spirit. 89 pulses. If it has any source of inspiration (and here is the fearful climax which the passage leads up to), it is from beneath, and not from above. Satan, not the Holy Spirit, is the inspirer of this kind of wisdom ; it is devilish, not godlike. In St Jude, we read of the scoffers that they separate themselves, being psychical only, and having not the Spirit. The German here marks a distinction which we fail to reproduce in the English. Luther renders it “ Fleischliche die da Keinen Geist haben.” But the Berlenburgh Bible, with De Wette and Stolz, render it more accurately still, u Seelische die Keinen Geist haben, men, that is, who act on psychic principles only, because they lack the pneumatical faculty. There are men whose very conscience is defiled, and who by long indulgence in known sin have so deadened the pneuma, that it is the same as if it never existed. We gather from this passage in St Jude this decisive truth, that the spirit is that part which is dead in the unregenerate man. The commission of sin does not kill the psychical natuie; for though there are certain brutal acts which refine¬ ment forbids, and which the intellectual man, as such, is incapable of, yet these are not the worst acts of sin. Refined sensuality, in which vice has only increased its malignity by losing all its grossness, so far from deadening the psychical nature, rather awakens it to a higher activity. When Savonarola lifted up his voice against the demoralization of Florence, what were the objects of his attack, and against what did he stir up the citizens of Florence ? It was art which had entered into a league with vice, so close and intimate that 90 ^The Relation of Soul and Spirit. there was no reaching vice except over the prostrate body of art. The longing of the awakened spirit for purity took the form of Puritanism. The world, of course, sees only the extravagance, and cannot see, for it knows not and feels not, the need of inner and heart purity. But so it was, and so it ever will be. The psychical nature is disgusted at some of the grossest forms of vice, and tries to keep up the appearance of virtue ; but this is all. These indulgences are not in¬ stant death to it as they are to the pneumatical nature. Fleshly lusts war against the soul, it is true, as St Petersays (i Pet. ii. n), so that the end of these things is death. We know that they who sow to the flesh shall of the flesh reap corruption; but the first deadening effect of these things is felt in the pneuma , not in the psyche. It is conceivable that a licentious scoffer should have the psychical nature in its highest perfection; it is not conceivable that he could exercise the pneuma. This is the truth which this verse in St Jude teaches, and we have seen how exactly it confirms the word of St James with regard to earthly wisdom. To sum up our remarks, then, on the contrast be¬ tween psyche and pneuma, in the five passages of the N ew Testament which we have considered at length, we gather the following distinction from Scripture. The psyche is the life of man in its widest and most inclusive sense, embracing not only the animal, but also the intellectual and moral faculties, in so far as their exercise has not been depraved by the fall. In this sense Aristotle’s generalization of the psyche is 7 he Relation of Soul and Spirit. 91 not wide of the Scriptural meaning. The soul, he says,* is that by which we live, feel, or perceive, will, move, and understand. The soul thus includes all the energies which are natural to man, and necessary to complete a definition of human nature, including on the one hand certain functions, as of growth and motion, which are generally now left to the physiolo¬ gist, and on the other hand those special faculties of mind which the modern psychologist devotes himself to. The psyche is thus the entelechy of a body hav¬ ing potential life, the sum-total that is of human ac¬ tivity in all directions, whether conscious or precon- scious, voluntary or involuntary. This would very well accord with what Scripture says of man’s psyche. It is the formative principle (Aristotle s entelechy), of one body and mind.f Just as the light of the body is the eye, so the life of the body is the soul. The division of the soul into vegetative, animal 01 sentient, and rational, is foreign to the simplicity of Sciiptuie, and even in Aristotle it is only a logical division, grounded on no essential distinction between ihe higher and lower parts of man's nature. It is for this reason that Aristotle has been charged with materialism by some, because he does not fall in with the prevailing dichotomy, which under the name of spiritualism has reigned almost without dispute in the schools of Chris- tian philosophy. But be this as it may, it is no * See de Anima, II., ch. 2. f On this subject see Sir A. Grant’s Dissertations, prefixed to his Edition of the Ethics of Aristotle: see also the Psychologie d’ Aristote, by Barthelemy St. Hilaire. 92 The Relation of Soul and Spirit. purpose of ours to clear Aristotle from the charge of materialism. It is enough if we point out a general agreement between his account of the psyche and that of Scripture. Were man made up of body and soul only, then the psychology of Scripture would be iden¬ tical with that of Aristotle, and a controversy of long standing might be ' set at rest at once and for ever. But it is exactly where Aristotle leaves off that Scrip¬ ture begins to treat of human nature, and tells us of a faculty—let us call it God-consciousness—which is dead or dormant in a great degree since the fall, and which it is the office and work of the Holy Ghost first to quicken, and then to direct, sanctify, and govern. This faculty, to which Scripture gives the name of Ruach or Pneuma, is altogether ignored by Aristotle, and by Plato is confounded with the intellectual Nous. As in these matters confusion is worse than ignorance, we confess that Aristotle’s psychology harmonises better with the psychology of Scripture than that of Plato. The dichotomy of the one, which is right as far as it goes, misleads less than the trichotomy of the other, which under a certain outward resemblance conceals most essential and irreconcilable differences. The fathers of the early Church would have acted wisely if they had kept clear of that entangling alli¬ ance with Platonism which seemed to offer at first such advantages. The intellectualism (for such it fairly may be described) of Aristotle was in truth a much safer propoedeutic to the truth than the vain and vaunting spiritualism of Plato. There was no doc¬ trine of sin in either of the two schools of philosophy; 1 he Relation of Soul and Spirit. 93 but for this very reason the spiritualism of Plato mis¬ leads more, because it is a spiritualism which neither recognises the fall,' nor man’s inability to turn to God by his own powers. Admitting that Plato approached nearer to the truth than Aristotle, he was for this reason all the more likely to mislead. The inner light which his disciples set up as their guide may be a sparkle of the true light of light; but not knowing of the fall, and misunderstanding the source of man’s natural inability to know God, Platonism fell in with the Pelagianism of the natural mind, and thus the word of our Lord to the Pharisees may be applied to the rival schools of the Greeks. “If ye were blind then ye should have no sin, but now ye say we see, therefore your sin remaineth.” Thus the psyche of Scripture is the sum total of man’s natural powers; the life as born into the world, and all that it contains or can attain to. But the pneuma is not only that which lies behind the psyche, as the psyche does underneath the bodily organism, it is that part of man which is unable to expand of itself, or to attain to its proper end in consequence of the fall. We need no other in¬ stance than Aristotle himself of the contrast between psyche and pneuma. That a mind like his, that took in all knowledge as his department, and whose curiosity knew no bounds but its own powers, should pass by in entire silence the inner sanctuary of the spirit and its exercises upon things unseen and eter¬ nal, implies something more than inattention or a wholesome dread of mysticism. The excuse, what- 94 The Relation of Soul and Spirit. ever it is worth, has been put forth in the case of Goethe, but it is wholly inapplicable to such a case as that of Aristotle. There was no false shame in his case; no dislike to Christian duty and doc¬ trine to repel him for piercing within the psyche to analyze the operations of his own pneuma. He was profoundly and we believe sincerely unconscious of the divine faculty in man, for the reason given by the apostle that the psychical man perceives not the things of the Spirit of God. He knew not of the Spirit’s work, because he was “ dead,” as all men by nature are, to divine things. In his case there was no mock spiritualism to deceive the un¬ wary, and on which to ground a doctrine of natural illumination, and which mystics describe as the inner light. Aristotle’s case may be taken as a palmary instance of the shallowness of their theory. Is it likely that such an analyst, whose penetrating eye nothing escaped, could have passed by such a fact in human nature as they describe it to be? The silence of Aristotle is a negative evidence for the truth of Scripture which cannot be gainsaid. The Bible tells us that there is a faculty called the pneuma, but that in consequence of the fall it is as if it did not exist. Now, had Aristotle not passed it. by we should be led to conclude—either that it operates still in spite of the fall, which Scripture plainly con¬ tradicts; or that Scripture itself is wrong in what it asserts of the natural man and his powers. We have thus a case of an objection turned into an argument. At first sight Aristotle’s omission of all The Relation of Soul and Spirit. 95 reference to a faculty of God-consciousness seems a fatal objection to the psychology of Scripture which distinctly asserts its existence. Hence the mistaken way in which early apologists caught at Platonism as more friendly to revealed truth than the peripa¬ tetic philosophy. Intuition affirmed what induction ignored: can we wonder if intuition was enthroned in Alexandria, and reigned almost supreme so long as the knowledge of Greek survived in the West ? But truth in the end is the only weapon which will serve the truth. While the intuitive school is one of the antichrists of the age with which the truth is engaged in a death grapple, the school of induc¬ tion leaves revelation to its own department, on condition that revelation does not interfere with it. The two paths of Scripture and science diverge, and it is only unbelieving divines and dogmatic philosophers who ever cause a collision between such opposite interests. The silence, then, of Aristotle is the very evidence which we should desire to prove the existence of the pneuma. The force of positive testimony may be explained away, that of negative cannot. When we know why Aristotle omits all mention of the pneuma, we see that the omission is itself an evi¬ dence that Scripture is right in the account it gives of the condition of man since the fall. If man could know his own spiritual powers, or even know how lamentably he has lost their use by the fall he would not be as fallen as he is. The root of his disease lies in this that he knows not that he is diseased. g6 The Relation of Soul and Spirit. The physician who takes him in hand has to disclose to him the function whose healthy exercise he never enjoyed, and therefore the loss of which he haidly suspects. Ignoti nulla cupido. As easily might we imagine Aristotle inditing the 4.26. Psalm, as inserting in his treatise on the Soul a chapter on the functions, end, and use of the pneuma. Scripture which teaches us what it is to be athirst for God, yea, even the liv¬ ing God, alone describes that part of man’s nature from whence this thirst arises, the immortal pneuma made in the image of God, and which nothing but the living God can satisfy. PSYCHE AND PNEUMA, IN THE LIGHT OF CHRISTIAN EXPERIENCE. God is spirit. God is love. In the one expression we have his nature, in the other his character. His being and perfections are thus summed up in two short epithets. Unlike other beings who partake of the nature of spirits, God is pure essential spirit, without body, parts, or passions. Unlike other characters whose nature it is to love and be loved, God is love, love essential, eternal, unchangeable, love that does not depend upon any other love, the love which, whether reciprocated or not, is still itself the same, and flows forth from Him, because his very nature and property is always to have mercy and pity. We shall fail to grasp the distinction between soul and spirit laid down in Scripture, unless we see that the spirit is the only part in man which fully images forth the inner nature of God. God is spirit: man is a spirit in a soul, and a soul in a body. Thus we have to penetrate through the two outer courts to get into the shrine of man’s being before we come to that which is properly and truly divine, and by which we see God. The animal nature in man does not reflect G 98 Distinction Between God at all, while the rational and intellectual nature reflects Him only partially. We cannot think of God as a reasoning being. The steps by which we ascend from particulars to generals, the powers by which we abstract and associate ideas, eliminate error, and dis¬ cover truth, are not acts which we can attribute to an infinite mind. For aught we know to the contrary angels may acquire knowledge as we do, though the steps of reasoning may be as much greatei than ours, as the steps of a pyramid are than an ordinary flight of stairs. But between the infinite mind and all other finite minds there must be not only dispaiity, but difference. The controversies which Mr Mansel s Bampton lecture stirred up a few years ago arose from not attending to the distinction between the intellectual and spiritual natures in man. In so far as man, as man, is a rational being, he is not the offspring of God, but the creature. God is said to be the “Father of spirits,” (Heb. xii. 9), not of intellects. We cannot make an ab¬ straction, as Plato did, of the universal Nous or reason, and say that man is divine because his reason is a spark kindled from the universal mind. Thus far, then, Professor Mansel was right in saying, with Archbishop King, that there was an analogy only, not a likeness of nature, between God and man. The modern form of the controversy arose out of an essay of Sir William Hamilton on the Philosophy of the Unconditioned, which ought to have set at rest, if anything could, the absurdity, not to say impiety, of the Hegelian method, which pretended to deduce the mysteries of the 99 Psyche and Pneuma. Trinity, Incarnation, and so forth, out of his own logical intuitions. The laws of thought were certainly stretched very far by the Jena professor, who thought he could find out the Almighty to perfection by evolv¬ ing the facts of his own consciousness. To this extent Professor Mansel, following in the wake of Sir William Hamilton, was incontestibly right. It is by faith, and not by reason, that we learn the ways of God. Rea¬ son not being that part of our nature in which we are like God, we cannot by discourse of reason know God. But, on the other hand, there was a truth in Mr Maurice’s and other replies to the Bampton Lecturer. They denied that we know God only by inference. They asserted that faith is something more than a blind submission of reason to what is logically incon¬ ceivable. They were right as well in what they de¬ nied as in what they affirmed. But for want of this distinction of soul and spirit they failed to make this clear, that while the reasonable soul only knows what God is not, it never can discover what God is. The spirit, however, rises to a higher consciousness both that God is and what He is (Heb. xii. 6). This spirit- consciousness we cannot clothe in words ; for what are words but the reflection which things make upon thought, the record of our experiences of the outer world ? “ Multse terricolis linguae.” There are many tongues and many voices, each a vibration of that CEolian harp of many strings, the IOO Distinction Between soul of man, when played upon by the external world. But the spirit would have to make a language to itself to record rightly its intercourse with God. This it cannot do, and fain must use the vocabulary of the logical understanding. Now all translation is difficult, and the more so if the exact equivalent does not exist in the language into which we translate. This helps us to see how vain it is to try to render the facts of the spirit-consciousness in modes of speech framed only to express the facts of sense or of self-consciousness. Mystics like Jacob Bohmen, Swedenborg, and Fox, from ignorance of this, have only fallen into absurdities to which the Arabian Nights are sober and probable. But their extravagance must not discredit a truth, which is, that there is in man this faculty of God-conscious¬ ness which we call the spirit. In prayer, as distinct from saying our prayers, we catch the sense of our nearness to Him who is not only the Over-soul, the Master Intellect, the Architect of the universe, but also the Father of our spirits, the being whose Presence we feel, when we really go down into ourselves. When we say our prayers, we are thinking about God _3 very pious aud profitable exercise, and without which our spirits will never rise into the state of silent and spiritual worship. We must first lay the wood in order, and then light the dry sticks of logical concep¬ tions/ if the fire is to be kindled in our spirits, and we are to feel the presence of God there. Thus those who say that we may know God, who is a Spirit, by our spirits, which are Godlike, only say what is both a simple and scriptural truth. If Mr IOI Psyche and Pnenma. Maurice, in his reply to Mr Mansel, had confined him¬ self to this, he would have escaped the charge of mysticism so often brought against him. The ground of all modern mysticism lies in the vain attempt to draw a distinction between the reason and the understanding, the vernunft and verstand of the German. Plato's trichotomy is radically opposed to that of Scripture, in that he makes the pure intellect the faculty which has intuition of ideas or first truths as the divine part in man’s nature. With Aristotle, Locke, and Sir William Hamilton, we deny that man has these intuitional powers of pure truth, and even if he had, this is very unlike the as taught by our Lord and His apos¬ tles. Coleridge spent his life in endeavouring to im¬ press this distinction between reason and understand¬ ing on a few initiated disciples. The great world out¬ side the grove of Plato has ever refused to draw the line between the lower and higher intellectual powers in man. Reason, to all but our modern Platonists, is understanding exercised on first truths; and the understanding is only reason turned to those which come in by sense-perception. But with this distinction between understanding and reason, the whole super¬ structure of a mystical God-consciousness falls to the ground. There is no rational intuition of God what¬ ever. God is spirit, and can be only known and worshipped through our spirits. Reason is a reflection of God in us. Man’s reasonable soul, we freely admit, is more after God’s likeness than his animal frame. But neither the animal nor intellectual nature is the express image of God within us. It is by the Spirit 102 Distinction Between only that we see and know God. Reason (to apply Sir William Hamilton’s distinction from sense-percep¬ tion to spirit) has a representative sense of God. Spirit alone has a presentative. But our modern mystics not only fail to distinguish between reason and spirit, and so look in the wrong direction to see traces of the divine in man. They fail also to grasp the effects of the fall on man s spirit. Instead of teaching that the spirit is dead or dormant in man as now born into the world, they speak of the God-consciousness as active in all men, even of those born in heathen lands. Their idea of missions is therefore rather to uncover what is within, though buried under sensuality and sloth, than to recover what is lost, or to discern what is unknown. They speak of the indwelling spirit in language which even regenerate Christians at times do not always realize. This is plainly unscriptural. Man is not born with a depraved, but a dormant spirit. This makes the saving difference between his case and that of devils. But he is a fallen man, with a degraved sense-consciousness, a darkened self-con¬ sciousness, and a dead or dormant God-conscious¬ ness. In this state, till awakened by God’s Holy Spirit, he cannot of himself turn to God. He sometimes seeks after Him, if haply he may find Him. But though God is not far from every one of us, yet for want of purity of spirit we cannot see God within. As colour-blindness disables a man from dis¬ cerning some of the secondary qualities of matter, while he is fully sensible of the primary, so the de- Psyche and Pneurna . 103 feet of the pneuma in man disables him from seeing God in everything as he would if he had the full use of his powers. We cannot be too explicit as to the work that regeneration effects in fallen human nature. It controls the animal, it purifies the intellectual and moral nature; but its especial and primary work is to quicken the spiritual. u That which is born of the flesh is flesh, and that which is born of the Spirit is spirit.” As God is spirit, so the spirit in man is that which, m an eminent and peculiar sense, comes from God. God, as we shall see in discussing the question of creationism, is the Creator ex traduce of the animal and intellectual part of every man naturally born into the world. Not so with the spirit, it comes from God, and is of God. Let us not shrink from using the expression that it proceeds from God, not by creation, but by emanation. Mere creationism fails to bring out the meaning of that expression, “ God breathed into his nostrils the breath of lives.” It were Pantheism to speak of nature as consubstantial with God. The creature is only His handy-work. He spake and they were made, He commanded and they stood fast. God the Father willed, God the Son spake, and God the Holy Ghost moved or brooded over the abyss out of which creation came at a word. But the spirit in man is divine, consubstantial with God, who is the Father of spirits, as our bodies of flesh are consubstantial with those of the parents of our flesh. This is, doubtless, a great mystery, second only to that which it leads up to, 104 Distinction Between that he which is joined to the Lord is one spirit, and that we are members of his body, of his flesh, and of his bones. But any view short of this fails to bring out the contrast between psyche and pneuma which we have seen to be scriptural, and which we are therefore bound to trace in detail. The pneuma is, we admit, very closely joined to the psyche; but so is the psyche to the animal frame. If we can dis¬ tinguish between soul and body, as all psychologists do, who are not materialists; are we not bound equally to distinguish between soul and spirit ? Con¬ sciousness is the common term which unites the three natures of man together. Sense, self, and God-con¬ sciousness are the three aspects or sides of the one ens individuum man. But the third is as clearly marked off from the second as the second from the first. It is not, as dichotomists would say, that the spirit is only the reasonable soul exercised on the inner world of spirit, instead of the outer world of sense. Is it the same faculty, capable of two such different acts ; or must we suppose a distinct faculty for the distinct act? We are loth to put up par¬ titions, however thin, between one part of man’s in¬ tellectual nature and another. The old psychology, which ascribed the different mental acts to so many distinct faculties, has been carried by the phrenolo¬ gists to the length of absurdity, and has been gen¬ erally discarded. But this is no reason why, if we distinguish at all between the animal powers in man and those which are intellectual, we should not go on to distinguish between the intellectual and Psyche and Pneuma. 105 the spiritual. For in truth the spiritual in man differs from the intellectual more even than the in¬ tellectual from the animal. The dichotomist assumes the point in question when he says, that we are conscious of God by an act of the reasonable soul turned to a distinct object, the infinite God. So far from this being the case, our intellectual powers do not present God to us, but only represent Him. We may cognize God, it is true, as the theologian does; but then we only cognize certain notions about God, the idols of the den or the market. The awful Presence, the Eternal God with whom Jacob wrestled in spirit all night, is not to be under¬ stood as a Noumenon any more than He is to be apprehended as a phenomenon. So far Professor Mansel is right in overturning the Philosophy of the unconditioned, the metaphysical Rationalism of the school of Hegel, as offensive to piety as the old positive Rationalism of Paulus. But we are not to lose the sense of God, because self-consciousness or the nous cannot apprehend Him. Here is the defect in Dr Mansell’s book, which his opponents had not failed to point out. .There is a God-consciousness in man, and a faculty by which God makes his presence felt in prayer. He talks with man then as with Adam in the cool of the day. He witnesses against him, strives with him, and till quenched leads him on to repentance. It is true God does not make his presence felt at first in any other way than by awak¬ ening in man a fear of God, a sense of His holiness and the strictness of the law’s demands. But to his 106 Distinction Between awakened and believing children He manifests Him¬ self as He does not unto the world; they walk with Him as Enoch did, they are treated as his friends as Abraham was; they meditate on Him or delight in Him as Isaac, they wrestle with Him as Jacob, they behold His glory as Moses, like David they are athirst for God, yea, even the living God, and, in fine, through the awakened pneuma, they realize the same evidence of things unseen that they have through the senses of the reality of the external world. It is as inconceiv¬ able to them to doubt this inner-witness to God, as it is to doubt the testimony of their own senses. In a noble passage* in Dr Newman’s Apologia (oh si sic omnia), he speaks of this sense of the presence of the eternal, and feels that he should doubt much sooner the testimony of the senses which may become dis¬ eased, than that of the inner spirit by which a sense of God is brought presently and constantly home to him. Not to respond to this experience is to proclaim one¬ self unspiritual; to have only the psychical nature which cannot receive the things of God, because they are spiritually apprehended. To deride this experi¬ ence as mystical, betrays what is worse than ignorance, for it betrays Aristotle’s ignorance of the pneuma without Aristotle’s excuse. How God will deal with such men as Aristotle or Confucius, who, surrounded with super- * “ The whole world seems to give the lie to the great truth of the being of a God, and of that great truth my whole being is full; so that were it not for the voice speaking so clearly in my conscience and my heart, I should be an atheist, pantheist, or polytheist when I looked into the world.” “ Look¬ ing into the world,” he adds, “ and seeing no reflection of God, is as if a man looked into a glass and did not see his face .”—Dr Newmans Apologia. Psyche and Pneuma. 107 stitions one more corrupt than another, turned the blind eye to the glass of faith, and reported that they saw nothing, and that there was nothing to see, we cannot tell. But their excuse will not be ours, if we live of the earth earthy, if we end life as we began it, “psychical, having not the spirit.” The religious consciousness, or pneuma in man, has been well described by Professor Mansel* as composed of these two factors, the sense of dependence and the sense of moral obligation. He shows, in opposition to Schleiermacher’s theory, that the blind sense of de¬ pendence would not be sufficient to describe man as a spiritual being, for then the dog would also be a re¬ ligious animal. The appeal that the ox knows his owner, and the ass his master’s crib, would lose all its pathos if it were grounded on the theory that there is no higher relationship and no deeper dependence be¬ tween us and God than between the ox and his owner. Moral obligation and dependence taken together com¬ plete our idea of the religious consciousness. Schleier¬ macher’s theory is one-half only, not the whole account of the spiritual in man. These elements, taken by themselves, we' admit are psychical only, and not pneu- matical. As the elements out of which water is formed are gases while apart, so in their separation or state of intellectual analysis, the sense of dependence and the sense of moral obligation are data of the intellect. Just as the old schoolmen said, that there was nothing in the intellect that did not come in through the * Mansel’s Bampton Lectures—Lecture iv. 108 Distinction Between sense ; yet as Leibnitz added, procter intellect urn , so we say of the pneuraa. The words and thoughts on which the religious consciousness works, come in from the psyche, yet the result is not psychical. We may apply the very words of Leibnitz to describe our posi¬ tion,— Nihil est in spiritu quod non prius in intellectu , prccter spiritual. God being such as He is—the Great I Am—the final and chief good—the Alpha and Omega—the be¬ ginning of all creation and the end to which it leads up, it is surely consistent with such a conception, that there should be a distinct centre of our being in which spiritual impressions take their rise, and are carried into action. As we generalize all our animal functions under the head of body, and our intellectual acts under the head of soul, so the devotional and dutiful seem to require a distinct centre. Let those who have only an intellectual consciousness of God (as, alas ! too many only have) include this under those other acts of reason which discourses, de omni scibili. But is this classification adequate to the wants and desires of the awakened and spiritual man ? If prayer be an unfre¬ quent exercise, or only a form of words without a motion of heartfelt desire; if the fear of God be a dim and scarcely felt emotion, kept in the background of consciousness ; if the love of God be an experience to which our hearts have never responded, is it strange that we deny the existence of a faculty of whose operations we are unaware ? The rule de non appar- entibus applies to our case; we deny the pneuma, be¬ cause we do not know its proper object, God. The Psyche and Pneuma . 109 subjective faculty stands in such a relation to its proper object (in this differing nothing from the lower func¬ tions in man) that the organ disappears when the function ceases. Like the eyeless fish in the mam¬ moth cave of Kentucky, we lose the spiritual faculty in proportion as we disuse it. But this, so far from disproving its reality in the case of those who are truly awakened by God’s Spirit, rather proves the contrary. It only proves that men are born spiritually blind, but that when couched by the Heavenly Physi¬ cian, they learn to see : first, they learn that there is a light, and then that the organ by which we see that light is the spirit. Communion with God is thus the function of which the human pneuma is the special organ. On the healthiness of the organ the right ex¬ ercise of the function depends, and reciprocally the distinct nature of the functions seems to require the existence of a distinct organ. The more spiritual we are, the greater our sense of God; conversely, the greater our sense of God, the more spiritual we be¬ come. The distinct consciousness of God, apart from His mere attributes, or our intellectual consciousness of Him, is the point in dispute between us and di- chotomists. They would call this an abstract idea, as difficult to reach as that of a Lord Mayor of Martinus Scriblerus, without his glass coach, his gold chain, and his fur ruff. So it is, we admit it, when we try the intellectual method of knowing God. Job thus wrestled within him to know God, and we know that the universe when marshalled in array only told him about God. “ Behold 1 go forward, but He is not 11 o Distinction Between there, and backward, but I cannot perceive Him.” (Job xxii. 8.) So it will always be in approaching God in our present fallen state. “ I stumble where I firmly trod, And falling with my weight of cares Upon the world’s great altar stairs, That lead through darkness up to God.” But these are the approaches to God’s presence. Clouds and darkness are round about Him—righte¬ ousness and truth are the habitation of His dwelling. So long as we are in the outer court of the intellect, we have no open vision, no sense of His presence and nearness. We are dealing with notions about God, but His own being we do not feel until the thought is lost in wonder, love, and praise. Hence the impor¬ tance of continuing in prayer, waiting in the outer court of the intellect till God calls us in for an audience. Time spent on our knees is not time lost, if after one hour of meditation about God we are given even one moment of the ecstatic sense of His pre¬ sence. Of this the psychical man knows nothing, he does not even desire it. He says his prayers as a kind of blind duty. He believes it will in some way do him good, either that God will directly give him the thing that he prays for, or give him a more sub¬ missive mind to make God s will his own. These are the two theories of prayer when looked at in the light of the intellect. They are true as far as they go, only they do not go deep enough to the root of the mat- 111 Psyche and Pneuma . ter. There are three kinds of prayer corresponding to the three parts of our nature. There is lip prayer, notional prayer, and the prayer of devotion, properly so called, when the spirit rises into commun¬ ion with the Father of spirits, when we do not merely desire good things from Him but that He would re¬ veal Himself to us. Thus the consciousness of God and the sense of our own spiritual being vary in exactly the same pro¬ portion. Where there is little sense of God’s presence, there the Pneuma is scarcely, if at all, developed. The child and the savage cannot rise to a higher conception of God than as a great being who dwells in a palace above in the skies. The philosopher again rejects this crude idea of a God dwelling in one fixed place, and rises to the notion of omnipotence and omnipre¬ sence. But these are intellectual notions only; they do not bring God nigh us, and make Him dwell in us. That heaven is his throne and earth his foot¬ stool is a deeper and truer conception of Deity than that He dwelleth in a house of stones and cedar. But there is a higher and purer notion again than this. It is that he dwells in the humble and contrite heart. But to realize this indwelling of God in man, it is clear that we must know what that part of man is which alone is worthy to receive Him. To suppose God indwelling in the human intellect falls as far short of the whole truth as that He should dwell in our bodies, in the coarse sense that Swift caricatured the mystery of the indwelling of the Holy Ghost. Our I I 2 Distinction Between bodies are the temples of the Holy Ghost in the sense that even the precincts or outer court of the Gentiles were holy in the temple of Jerusalem. He who defiles the outer court despises already the presence of Him who sanctifies the innermost court of all. Him will God destroy. But the true presence- chamber of God is the Pneuma: there He meets with man. We pass through the outer court of the senses and even through the inner court of reason to reach this sanctuary where God makes himself known in silence and in stillness. Hence it is, that those who fail to grasp the distinction between Pneuma and Psyche fail also to grasp the deep meaning of the per¬ sonal indwelling of God the Holy Spirit in the breast of a regenerated believer. They speak of the influ¬ ences of the Holy Spirit—an expression which would be adequate if the office of the Holy Spirit were only to enlighten our understandings and to purify our wills. But they do not understand, or at least fail to make clear to others, these deeper operations of the Spirit by which the Pneuma, or diviner part in man, is occupied and possessed by the Holy Spirit of God. Our not being conscious of this immediate presence of God’s Spirit with our spirit is no proof against it, as those who deny or explain away the doctrine of the personal indwelling of the Holy Ghost suppose. Consciousness, or the power of turning over at will our internal experiences, is not always co-extensive with those experiences. There are some thoughts too deep to be subjected to this kind of test* Besides, * Psychology has not yet worked itself clear of the Cartesian confusion be¬ tween thought and our consciousness of thought. According to Descartes an Psyche and Pneuma . 113 we are directly taught not to expect a consciousness of the Spirit’s presence, but of Christ, of whom the Spirit testifies. “He shall not speak of himself,” John xvi. 13. Thus Christ dwells in the believer mediately, the Holy Spirit on the other hand dwells immediately. The believer has the mind of Christ, and is led by the Spirit of God; but he is directly conscious not of the Spirit’s presence, but of that of which the Spirit testifies, viz., the person and work of Christ. We must be ex¬ plicit on this as our safeguard against that extravagant error of all mystics, from the monks of Mount Athos to the disciples of Swedenborg, that we can cast ourselves into a state of magnetic sleep or trance, and there enjoy the beatific vision. “It doth not yet appear what we shall be,” and it is not given to us in our present state to enjoy a foretaste of that higher sense of God’s presence which awaits us after death. “We who are in this tabernacle do groan, being burdened. We could desire to be unclothed, if so be that, being absent from the body, we might be present with the Lord.” But meanwhile the Spirit which is the earnest of our inheritance, dwells in us in a way of which we are distinctly conscious, though we cannot make that consciousness clear to others. The Spirit is there, but his presence is only felt by his effects. “ The wind bloweth where it idea and our clear conception of that idea are one and inseparable. So far from this there are pre-conscious states of thought. As memory and recollection . differ, so thought and consciousness. The later psychologists, especially Ham¬ ilton, are on the right track on this subject, but it has yet to be fully worked i out. H 114 Distinction Between Psyche and Pneuma. listeth, and thou hearest the sound thereof, but canst not tell whence it cometh or whither it goeth; so is every one that is born of the Spirit. Thus, to sum up our foregoing argument, the deep things of God correspond to and suggest, something proportionably deep in the receptive faculties of man. Were notions about God all that we could ever attain to, then man’s psychical nature would be .sufficient; we should have no need to suppose the existence of a third nature. But as man is made in the. image of God, we are bound to suppose that there is a special organ of God-consciousness, since we can trace a dis¬ tinct function called spiritual-mindedness. And con¬ versely, the existence of such functions obliges us to assert a distinct organ on which they centre. Such is the Pneuma. It is immortal because divine, not divine because immortal. Did man only know about God, we see. nothing on which he could rest his hopes of immortality. But loving Him, trusting Him, delighting in Him, man feels that he cannot altogether die, that God would be untrue to himself to thrust such a being back into nothingness. Hence David exclaims, “Thou wilt not leave my soul m Hades, neither wilt thou suffer thine Holy One to see corruption.” There is that in the Pneuma which we do not find in the Psyche, viz., that it is made for God, and meant to enjoy Him for ever and ever. THE UNITY UNDER DIVERSITY OF THE THREE PARTS OF MAN’S NATURE. We have seen from Scripture that the distinction between body, soul, and spirit is real, and not verbal only. But, like all distinctions, it must not be pressed too far. Man is, indeed, a tripartite person— rg//mg>ie vnoaratuc —made up of three parts, which we can ideally distinguish. But this does not imply that we can actually divide them, much less that any one of these three natures in one person can maintain an existence apart from the other two. Body without soul or spirit becomes a corpse, and, as such, is quickly resolved into its ultimate atoms. Soul, again, without spirit or body would pass into the universal soul or reason, if we may personify a mere abstraction; and spirit again, being “ the likest God within the soul, would, when the tie of life is broken, return to God that gave it, in the sense that it would be reabsorbed in the Deity. This is, as far as we can infer from reason, what would occur at death, did not revelation tell us that God has arrested death in the act of completing his triumph, and has said by the bier on which the body is laid, Thus far shalt thou go, but no further. In 116 Unity of Man s prospect of a resurrection of the body, procured in and by the meritorious work of Christ, our death is not entire dissolution. It is only suspended anima¬ tion. When the Lord said, “The maid is not dead, but sleepeth,” they laughed him to scorn; so the Stoics and Epicureans of our age may meet this truth with derision ; the one asserting that death is an eter¬ nal sleep, and the other that it is only a second birth, “Eternal process moving on: F rom state to state the spirit walks; And these are but the shattered stalks, The ruined chrysalis of one.” Midway between materialism and spiritualism, and having little in common with either, Scripture treats of man as a unit, the fractions of which never can be treated as integers. We may distinguish in idea, as we shall presently see Scripture does, between the body, the soul, and the spirit; but to suppose that either can act without the other, or to suppose, for instance, that the unsouled body, or the disembodied soul, or lastly, the pure unsouled spirit, can act by it¬ self, is to assume something which neither reason nor revelation warrants. Death, to be entire, must imply not separation of soul and body only, as we commonly describe it, but the dissolution of the link which binds the three parts together. In that case, all conscious¬ ness and being must cease with the disruption of the tie which unites the higher and lower natures together. Were the first death of Adam at all equivalent to this (as it is conceivable it would have been but that man Tripartite Nature. 117 was redeemed in idea, before even he fell, by the Lamb slain from the foundation of the world), then all our conjectures about the future state would have been equally idle; man would indeed walk in a vain show, and disquiet himself in vain. Buddhism would then be of all creeds the most consistent, and, instead of four hundred millions of professors, should claim the whole human family as proselytes to its dreary dream of ultimate annihilation. To our mind, there is no middle point to choose between Gaudama Buddha, and the Lord Christ. Either all life is evil, and non-being, or apathy (for Nirwana may equally mean either) is the supreme God, or on the other hand Christ is “ the resurrection and the life,” and “ whosoever believeth in him shall never die.” Between these two poles of thought philosophy ranges itself with as many degrees and zones as there are on the globe’s surface. But they all lead up to or down to one of two theories, which, like logical contradictories, exclude each the other. Ranging between the two, philosophic re¬ ligionists try to combine a little more or a little less of the one or the other, but they all really tend to the rejection of the one and the acceptance of the other. At any given moment the philosophic standpoint may seem neutral; it is in reality a tendency toward, or a turning away from, the truth as it is in Jesus. No man can serve two masters, either in speculation or in practice. Philosophy and revelation are thus at issue on this primary question, whether death of man is a natural or a penal process, and consequently, whether the 118 Unity of Man s higher functions of man can continue to act when separated from the lower. e do not hei e deny that they will continue to act after death, but this we attri¬ bute, not to any necessity of the case or any fitness of things that the higher should survive the lower, but solely to the will of God arresting death m the act of asserting his entire dominion over men. This being the case we can ideally divide body, soul, and spirit from each other, and set them apart as we do the cornea, lens, or lacrymal humour of the eye foi separate consideration. Together they make up only one organum or instrument, and the loss of one pait would imply, not the incompleteness only, but the uttei use¬ lessness of the other two. The trichotomy of Scripture does not then imply the union of three separable and-distinct natures in man. This would be to repeat and even exaggerate the error of the old school of dichotomists. The ground error of the dichotomist system is this, that man is made up of two parts, body and soul, and that these parts are not only separated in death, but capable, the higher at least, of surviving that separation. What would it be but to make confusion worse confounded if we were to assert the existence of a third nature, distinct from the former two, and equally with the soul capable of continuing its existence in the disem¬ bodied state? The only difference, in that case, between the dichotomist and the trichotomist view of man would be, that whereas the dichotomist described man as the union of two natures, the one mortal and the other immortal; the trichotomist described him as Tripartite Nature. 119 the union of three such natures, one moita.1 and two of them immortal. Such a scheme would only com¬ plicate what is obscure enough already and build up one unproved assertion on another. The doctnne of the natural immortality of the soul labours under diffi¬ culties enough already* without laying on the additional burden of proving the immortality of spuit as well. The only trichotomy which will stand the test of our advanced school of physiologists is this, that the bodily organism, the intellectual faculties, and that higher spiritual consciousness by which we know and serve God, are not separable natures, but separate manifes¬ tations of the one nature. That relation of the Per¬ sons of the Trinity which is called Sabellianism is the best expression of that which we hold with legard to the nature of man. However defective such a theory may be to express the relation of the Persons of the Triune Jehovah, it is not unobjectionable to speak of the three manifestations of one nature in man. The will or personality, the original monad or centre of foice, * Olshausen says, “ Hoc tamen patribus dandum est, nusquam legi in libris sacris animam esse immortalem, de Deo potius prsdicatur, eum tenere solum immortalitatem (i Tim. vi. 16), et de Christo (John xi. 15). lhe grounds on which some of the ante-Nicene fathers spoke of the soul as mortal and the spirit as immortal, Olshausen gives in his treatise on the trichotomy, see his Opuscula, p. 167. The theology of any age can only be understood by refer¬ ence to the current opinions of that age. The Platonic trichotomy was a ^v X v X07007 or rational soul, which was immortal, the irrational or sensitive soul and the body. The Scripture trichotomy brought in a new conception of a pneuma superior to the psyche. Hence the first stress of the early apologist was to prove the mortality of the psyche as opposed to Plato, on which to base the true source of man’s immortality in the pneuma. When the chuich be¬ came dichotomist, this distinction was disregarded, and divines f-li back on the old statement of the immortality of the soul. 120 Unity of Man s has three forms of consciousness, that of sense, of self, and of God-consciousness. Man has not three lives, but one life; he is not three persons, but one person. The will or the ego is at one moment more present to sense-consciousness, and then again it passes into self- consciousness, or God-consciousness, passing thus through the outer court of the holy place into the holiest of all; but it is always one and the same will. Our personality is the same, whether the will acts through the body, the soul, or the spirit. This is the difference, therefore, between the trinity and the trichotomy, that in the one case the person is distinct as well as the work, in the other case not. The Trinity is three persons in one nature or substance— the trichotomy is three natures in one person. Man is the fibula duarum naturarum , the clasp which unites the sensual and the spiritual together. This expres¬ sion of the old dichotomist is perfectly unobjectionable; but to go further, and to press analogies from the mystery of the blessed Trinity, analogies faulty in their very form (for what has the mystery of the three per¬ sons in one nature to say to the fact of three natures in one person) is to go beyond the bound, both of scripture and reason. The facts of consciousness are all against such a trichotomy as would divide as well as distinguish the natures in man. In every mental operation we feel that the whole man works, and that through every part of his nature. Physiology teaches us that there is not a single mental act which does not depend upon the circulation of the blood through the brain vessels, Tripartite Nature. 12 1 and that upon the quantity or quality of that blood will depend the soundness of the conclusion. A tor¬ pid liver or a disordered stomach, by either diminish¬ ing the volume of blood in the brain vessels, or dis¬ turbing its purity, will produce such aberrations of intellect, that the reasoning powers shall either alto¬ gether cease, or beat wildly like the pendulum of a clock released from its weight. When we speak of the pure reason, we speak of an abstraction which does not exist in human nature. On the data brought in by sense-perception, the judgment acts, and it can so far recall or modify these data as to seem to create the grounds of its own judgment, and so far to carry on a train of pure reasoning. But this is simply be¬ cause we forget whence these data originally came. Lost in a train of abstruse reasoning, and oblivious even of the sheet of paper which he is covering with his symbols, the mathematician may seem to be in the region of pure thought, and using pure reason only. But this is only because we are forgetful of the phy¬ siological fact, that on the supply of blood to the brain depends that very exercise of the pure reason, and the psychological fact, that the data of reasoning are nothing else than transformed sensations, perceptions accumulated during many years’ observation, and now by abstraction defecated from those associations with which they first entered the mind through the senses. None of us can remember the original apples or abaci by which we first learned that two and two make four; but none would dispute that, without such aids to reflection, even Newton or Pascal could not have 122 The Unity of Man’s discovered the mathematical genius for which they were afterwards so distinguished. In truth, in every act of the mind, from the simplest to the most abstract, we put forth our entire faculties, though in a very different degree. Suggestions from without, and association of ideas from within, are the instruments, so to speak, which the judgment cannot do without. Thus, without the aid and suggestion of the senses, it is difficult to see on what thought could occupy itself. Man, as far as we know at present, is as incapable of pure thought as he is of pure ani¬ malism. Even the sensualist idealizes his indulgences, lest he should turn from them in utter disgust and loathing. There is the irgovoia, rrjg tra^xog, the provision for the flesh, else the epicure would loathe his own delicacies. He must toil after his gastronomic profi¬ ciency (to use Charle’s Lamb’s quaint account of his taste for strong tobacco) as some men toil after virtue. But the converse is equally true. If, in living to the flesh, men must still exercise judgment, taste, imagina¬ tion, wit, and that thus the elder is made to serve the younger, it is equally true that in a life of the highest mental abstractedness, of a Kant at Konigsberg, or a Newton in the quadrangle of Trinity—nihil est in in- tellectu quod non prius, per sehsum. Through the wicket gate of sense have passed those trooping fancies, those soaring thoughts, those long-drawn de¬ ductions of reason which mark the higher forms of mind, whether in a poet “ of imagination all compact,” like Shakspeare, or a reasoner and analyst like New¬ ton or Kant. I2 3 'Tripartite Nature. Thus, as of the sexes, the man is not without the woman, nor the woman without the man in the Lord, so of the senses and intellect. Mind enters into all our animal functions, except those which are purely unconscious, and so are out of the control of the will, as the functions of the heart and the stomach. The senses, on the other hand, are constantly ministering to the mind, even when in her most creative and un¬ earthly mood. She may take the pabulum of thought with the same unthoughtfulness of her need of it that Newton ate the baked apples which his housekeeper took care to lay on his table before him. But still the ministering hand is there, and we are utterly at a loss to conceive a state of being in which a lower na¬ ture shall not thus minister to, and subserve a higher. Idealism loses sight of the connection of the mind with the body, just as materialism declares that mind is nothing else than a subtle and rare secretion of body. True, research is leading on to the conclusion which Scripture has long ago laid down, that man is the integer of two, or rather three, factors or fractions —the mysterious unity of sense-consciousness, which we call the body; self-consciousness, which we call the soul or reason ; and God-consciousness, which we call the spirit. This view of the essential unity of man reconciles us to what would otherwise appear an anomaly in a spiritual religion like that of Christ—the doctrine of the resurrection of the body. The Christian doc¬ trine is no less offensive to spiritualism than to mate¬ rialism. Nay, of the two, the spiritualist philosophy I 24 The Unity of Man s takes most offence at the doctrine of the resurrection. The materialist may think the doctrine incredible, but it will never seem to him a thing impossible that God should raise the dead. Nay, rather, like Priestley, whatever other objections he may find to the superna¬ tural element in Christianity, he will readily admit the doctrine of the resurrection of the body, as confirming his theory of the dependence of the intellect upon the senses. But to the spiritualist school such a doctrine is utterly repulsive. Plotinus resented being asked about his bodily health, considering his present condi¬ tion as a degradation, an incarceration in the flesh for spiritual sins committed in some former state of being. To one accustomed to this view of the independence of mind on matter, the Christian doctrine of the resur¬ rection of the body must have seemed utterly repulsive. Hence we find that when the apostle came to Greece the resurrection of Jesus was foolishness, even as the Messiahship of Jesus was a stumbling-block to the Jew. The expressions applied to each (a stumbling-block to the one and foolishness to the other), exactly express the nature of the offence in each case. The Messiah¬ ship of Jesus was to the Jews a scandal, because they would admit the idea of Messiahship, but were offended at the meanness of the birth, life, and death of Jesus of Nazareth, who claimed to be their Messiah. But with the Greek, the state of feeling was opposite. With him, the very idea of a resurrection was foolish¬ ness : a resurrection of rubbish—a reincarceration in the flesh—a second childishness, to end in mere obli¬ vion. The one admitted the idea, but staggered only Tripartite Nature. 125 at the fact which embodied it. But the Greek re¬ jected even the idea of a return to the body. It was more than a particular and single scandal, which might be got out of the way : this preaching of the resur¬ rection of the body was much more than a single folly, it was foolishness itself; so that the Greek phi¬ losophy, which taught the immortality of the soul in opposition to the resurrection of the body, must be swept out of the way, before men, who call them¬ selves spiritualists, can receive Christianity, as it is taught by the Lord and his apostles. Harless has well remarked that there is less now for Christian truth to fear from so-called materialism, with its inductive method applied to psychological questions, than from that vague and misty spiritualism, of which Cams’ “ Psyche,” and Ennemoser’s u Spirit of man in Nature,” are the most striking instances.* To the spiritualism which has strangely enough im¬ bedded itself in our popular theology, like a fly in the amber, or a toad in a rock, mortal body and immortal soul, are favourite and oft-repeated antitheses. Out of this assumed dichotomy of man into two distinct and separable parts, is built up a scheme of natural religion, which one class of writers, the Deists of last century, appealed to as a substitute for revealed, and another, the orthodox apologists, appealed to as the schoolmaster to bring us to Christ. It is not generally perceived, that if this antithesis of mortal body and immortal soul, w 7 hich is certainly not Pauline but Platonic, is worth anything at all, it cuts at the * See Harless Chrisliche Ethik, quoted by Delitzsch. i2 6 The Unity of Man s roots of the Christian doctrine of a resurrection of the body. Hence it is that the doctrine of the resurrec¬ tion of the last day seems to some to be an encum¬ brance to the Christian scheme. If the body be the mortal, and the soul the immortal part ex natura rerum] why degrade the soul again by clothing it upon even with a glorious body ? The spirits of just men are said to be made perfect when out of the body; why imprison them again, even in a house which is from heaven ? . So the Egyptian notion of the ™\>y- y £V nua, or the revivification of the flesh at the end of the annus magnus seems to have dropped into the stream of Christian truth, like an overhanging pine tree into the torrent below, and dammed up its cuirent rather than bridged over its difficulties. If man be only a soul in a body; if the true Ego be an immortal wDc in a perishable cw//.a, as Plato and the philosophers thought, it is a strange advance to raise man from the disembodied state of being after death, to that of the resurrection body. The inconsistency of the two doc¬ trines is not felt by the majority of divines, because of their artificial and arbitrary distinction between natural and revealed religion, and because they half Christian¬ ise Plato, and make him the “ Moses of Athica,” as he was said to be by Clement and others of the Alexan¬ drian school. But the contradiction, though not always apparent, is none the less real. The difficulty (for such it is) of the resurrection of the body is got over by many divines, on the principle that rewards and punishments could not be justly awarded at the last day, if the I2 7 Tripartite Nature. body which had been a partaker of the sin were not raised again to share the retribution. There is a Rabbinical tale which Sherlock and other divines have urged as an argument for the resurrection of the body : In the day of judgment the body will say, the soul alone is to blame; since it left me I have lain still in the grave: The soul will retort, the body alone is sinful; since released from, it, I fly through the air like a bird : The judge will interpose with this myth —A king once had a beautiful garden full of early fruits. A lame man and a blind man were in it. Said the lame man to the blind man, let me mount upon your shoulders and pluck the fruit, and we will divide it. The king accused them of theft: but they severally replied—the lame man, how could I reach it ?—the blind man, how could I see it ? The king ordered the lame man to be placed on the back of the blind man, and in this position had them both scourged. So God in the day of judgment will replace the soul in the body, and hurl them both into hell together. Now, allowing this allegory all the worth it claims as an argument, and admitting that for a perfect retri¬ bution to the wicked, their bodies must be quickened and immortalised as well as their souls ; how does this apply to the righteous ? If their souls are in full fruition of blessedness what farther need have they of organs of sense-perception, similar to, if not quite the same, as those which we now possess ? The truth is, that the resurrection of the body is a difficulty which cannot be got over by the philosophy of spiritualism. Divines may uphold it as a point of orthodoxy, but 128 The Unity of Man's laymen who care less for orthodoxy than consistency, will not scruple to explain it away, w’hen they see how irreconcileable it is with their philosophical dogma of the immateriality and immortality of the soul. As early as the apostles’ days, we find some who said with Hymenaeus and Philetus, that the resurrection was past already, because it seemed to them not only in¬ credible, but unworthy of God to reinvest man in a garment of matter. The Manicheans very consistently denied a bodily resurrection. Matter seemed to them to proceed from the evil principle, and redemption consisted rather in deliverance from the body by death, than that the temple of the body should be destroyed only to be reared again by Christ at the last day. Locke, in the third letter of his controversy with the Bishop of Worcester, seems to fall in with those who take a figurative view of the resurrection of the body, and in the paraphrase and notes to the Epistles, com¬ menting on the expression “ it is sown in corruption,’’ he maintains “that the time that man is in this world, affixed to this earth, is his being sown, and not when being dead he is put in the grave, as is evident from St Paul’s own words—For dead things are not sown; seeds are sown, being alive ; and die not till after they are sown.” It is evident that Locke here mistakes the apostle’s meaning, and twists the sense so as to explain away the resurrection of the body. The apostle does compare the corpse put into the grave to a seed of corn, and the comparison is as just as striking. In both cases there is outward death. A seed is a dead thing till it is quickened in the bosom of the earth ; Tripartite Nature. 129 and a body is but a corpse until it is quickened at the resurrection morning. The comparison, moreover, becomes more reasonable the more it is pursued in details. With what body shall they come, the philo¬ sophers asked in Corinth, as they do to this day. It did not want the light of modern science to teach that the body wholly decomposes in the grave, and that not one particle remains in a few years or centuries, as the case may be ; the whole of the atoms pass off in gas or dust, to form the constituent elements of fresh bodies. Modern chemistry has taught us a little more of the modus operandi; but the fact itself was as well- known in Corinth two thousand years ago as in London or Paris to-day. Yet the apostle’s answer is short and decisive. “ Thou fool, that which thou sowest, thou sowest not that body that shall be, but bare grain; but God giveth it a body as it hath pleased him, and to every seed his own body.’ Those who protest against the absurdity of the resurrection of relics are answered at once. Do we find in nature a resurrection of relics ? Does the grain of wheat give back its particles to the new stalk and ear ? Undoubtedly not. “ Thou fool, thou sowest not that body that shall be, but bare grain.” “ Except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone.” It is by its death, i.e., by its dissolution and decomposition, that it obtains a new life. The seed rots in the earth, with this difference, however, from other cases of mere decomposition, that in dying it strikes a radicle into the earth, and in this radicle there is life; it has the power of assimilating to itself fresh particles of matter ; and so God gives it 1 1 30 "The Unity of Man s a body as it hath pleased Him. The point of identity thus between the old and the new plant, between the present and our resurrection bodies, is not an identity of atoms, but an identity of nature. “ To every seed his own body.” As the oat seed only produces the oat plant, barley barley, and wheat wheat, so each in¬ dividual corpse is the germ, and nothing more, of a resurrection body, whose identity with the old is an identity of reason and idea, not of matter and sense. We admit that this is not the mediaeval doctrine of the resurrection ; it is, nevertheless, the Pauline, and is as reasonable, and after the analogies of nature, as the other view is wildly absurd and improbable. The resurrection of the body was complicated with diffi¬ culties which did not belong to it, because divines did not understand the apostle’s illustration, and did not distinguish as they should between such an idea of re¬ surrection as that of the dry bones of Ezekiel, which is only revivification, and the regeneration of a new plant from an old germ, which is the Christian doc¬ trine of the resurrection. Thus the Jews had a tradition that there was one small almond shaped bone which was indestructible, and would form the nucleus around which the rest of the body would gather at the time of the resurrection. Tertullian, not to be outdone in absurdity, fixed the germ of immortality in the teeth. The teeth, he says, are providentially made eternal, to serve as the seeds of the resurrection. Even Augus¬ tine gives in to this carnal mode of apprehending the resurrection. Every man’s body, howsoever dispersed Tripartite Nature. 131 here, shall be restored perfect in the resurrection. Every body shall be complete in quantity and quality. As many, hairs as have been shaved off, or nails cut, shall not return in such enormous quantities to deform their original places, but neither shall they perish; they shall return into the body, into that substance from which they grew. It is needless to accumulate instances. The Church fell into the way, not of study¬ ing what the apostle said, but what this or that father said about the apostle, and hence the schoolmen only repeat each other in piling up absurdities about the resurrection of relics. Thomas Aquinas gravely de¬ cides that no other substance would rise from the grave except that which belonged to the man in the moment of death.* Thus the reputed orthodox view errs as wide of the mark in one extreme as that of the Sadducees in the other extreme, and for the same reason. Ye err, knowing neither the Scriptures , nor the power op God. Between the oat plant and the oat seed there is no ex¬ ternal likeness whatever: it is a likeness of kind. It is to reasons eye, not to that of sense-perception , that we appeal in proof of the identity of the buried grain with the growing corn. So with our bodies. Inattention to this obvious distinction has made more infidelity than almost any other mistake of divines. It is not too much to say, with the author of a Restoration of Belief, that before all other replies to negative teaching we want some clearing up of the positive meaning of * Hagenbach’s Hist, of Doctrines, Clark’s Translation. 17 2 The Unity of Man s Scripture. We have had quite enough dogma in our churches—what we want is a clearing up of some of the difficulties of the Bible from the dogmas which have been laid on the Bible by divines who philoso¬ phized as they thought in the orthodox sense. Thus on account of certain difficulties connected with the resurrection of the body, which arose from our crude conceptions of the apostle s meaning, the doctrine itself has been more opposed than any other in revelation. Two theories are now put forward on the subject to get over the difficulty. The one theory is that of an inner body, which was first and ingeni¬ ously worked out by Bonnet in his Palingenesie Philo- sophique ; the other is the anti-atomistic theoiy of Leibnitz applied to souls. Each soul is a monad or centre of force, which is the organic identity of man, and which at his death passes out into the world of spirits, to die no more. These are the two counter¬ theories to the Christian doctnne of mans natuie. Thus there are two irreconcileable schools of thought, each professing to tell us of the mystery of death and the grave—the one, the method of Scripture; the other, that of philosophy. Rejecting the latter, we conclude that man is a tripartite nature of body, soul, and spirit, made for immortality, it is true, but that this immortality was contingent on his spiritual likeness to God through obedience and love. Man, when he fell, lost for himself and all his posterity that spiritual likeness to God in which alone his true immortality is to be sought.* We are born dead m trespasses and * For a catena of testimonies from the early Fathers, that they held the Tripartite Nature. 133 sins, and cannot attain the right to the tree of life, that we may eat it and live for ever. The redemption of Christ has purchased back for man this right to the tree of life. Entering into our nature, He who alone has immortality gives it alone to those who 3re in like vital union with Him by spiritual regeneration, as those of Adam born are in union with the first Adam by natural birth. 11 As in Adam all die, or u as all that are of Adam die,” so “ all that are in Christ are made alive.” Thus as the wages of sin is death, the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ. This gift of God is, as we might expect, not a partial gift. As redemption is free, so it is also full. God will immor¬ talise not a part of our nature, but the whole. Were it the intention of God from the beginning (of which we do not gather a trace from Scripture) to set an im¬ mortal spirit in a mortal body, partners of a common life or soul for a little while, with a very different here¬ after before them, then we should not have been told of the resurrection of the body. The resurrection of Christ’s body might have taken place (though even this might have been dispensed with) to assure us that we do not die in death, but that rather death is our second birth, and that the spirit, thus delivered from its partner and co-mate in exile, the body would at opinion that the true immortality of man lay in his being made in the image of God, i.e., that he was neither naturally mortal nor immortal, but denriKos Se eKarepwv, capable of becoming one or the other by obedience. See Schultz Voraussetzungen der Unsterblichkeit, p. 67. See also a good Sermon by Sartorius on Die Heilige Liebe, p. 34 : Die gottliche Ebenbildlichkeit des Menschen, ist auch der Grund seiner Unster¬ blichkeit, die nicht auf einer bios physichen oder metaphysichen, sondern auf religiosen oder heiliger Basis ruht. 124 The Unity of Man s once pass into joy and felicity. Instead of this, Scrip¬ ture teaches us that redemption is not complete till the resurrection of the body, and that even we who have the firstfruits of the Spirit groan within ourselves, waiting for the adoption, to wit, the redemption of the body. Thus in Scripture death and sin, immortality and the redemption of Christ, are coupled together as we do not find them in the schools of philosophy. The resurrection of the body, not the existence of the soul after death, is the pledge of entire redemption from the curse and bondage of sin, to which Scripture in¬ variably points our hopes. The Eschatology of the schools is different from that of Scripture, and no ingenuity of divines pledged to connect and harmonise natural and revealed religion can weave the two into agreement. The schools of philosophy know neither the doctrine of original sin nor the penal character of death. Looking down at the grave, they say, Mors est aut exitus aut interitns. Startled, as indeed they may be, at the thought of an¬ nihilation ; rejecting, as our better instincts always will, the alternative adopted by Lucretius— “ Sic ubi non erimus quum corporis atque animai Discidium fuerit, quibus e sumus uniter apti.” De Rerum , Nat. III. 850. when it comes to the question whether “to be or not to be” is the case of man after death, there will always be an inconsiderable minority only in favour of the former. Any hypothesis will be invented rather than that man should lie down and die like the brute. Tripartite Nature. 1 35 Hence, if death be not the end of man’s being, it must be a crisis; it must be the entrance into a new life, a higher life, as he is pleased to fancy, in which the higher or deathless principle shuffles oft its mortal coil, as the snake sheds its skin, or the grub rises into a butterfly. Curiously enough, the penal character of death crosses his thoughts, but only to be brushed aside as an untenable theory. “ Omnia mors poscit, lex est non pctna penri.” Death, the philosopher argues, is common to man with the brute. Now, as the brute creation has not sinned, it cannot be that death has passed upon all in consequence of sin. But St Paul, Rom. v., has an¬ ticipated this very difficulty, and in the face of it reaf¬ firms the truth that “Nevertheless death reigned from Adam to Moses, even over them that had not sinned after the similitude of Adam’s transgression. At this point, then, of the penal character of death in the case of man only, and in consequence of Adam’s trans¬ gression, we come to the cross-roads where philosophy and Scripture branch off; the two paths diverge, and every step we take on the one carries us farther from the other. No ingenuity can reconcile the penal character of death with its natural. “ Stipendia enim peccati mors ” is the verdict of St Paul; Mors Janua vita is the sentence of the schools from Plato to Fichte. Setting out with the latter interpretation of death, the schools have worked out a theory of im¬ mortality, in which Plato’s notion of the pre-existence of the impersonal nous or universal reason, and Leib- 136 Unity of Man s Tripartite Nature. nitz’ doctrine of monads, are the axioms on which it rests. The old doctrine of the immortality of the soul arising from its immateriality has passed through the fire of hostile criticism. Warburton rejected it; Kant put it into the crucible of his Critique, and reduced it to a mere play on words. Yet it lives on still in our systems of theology, for this most unanswerable reason, that what men continue to believe in, they will always find a reason for. But the only terms on which a lasting concordat between reason and faith can be drawn up must clearly be, that faith is not to borrow the weapons of a school philosophy with which to overturn philosophy. So long as we take the psycho¬ logy of Scripture to illustrate its theology, and vice versa , we may expect some agreement; but when we take certain dicta of philosophy with regard to the nature of man, and try to piece these in with what the Bible tells us of God’s dealings with man, is it to be wondered at that the result is confusion worse con¬ founded ? and a state of uncertainty as to any settled meaning in Scripture which tends to unbelief if not to positive disbelief. ANALOGIES FROM THE DOCTRINE OF THE TRINITY TO THE TRICHOTOMY IN MAN CONSIDERED. We know from Scripture that man is made in the image of God. Scripture, moreover, teaches us that there is in the Divine unity a plurality of persons .—three persons in one substance. To put these two thoughts together, and to suggest an analogy from the trichotomy of man to the three persons of the Blessed Trinity, is such an obvious comparison that it is not strange if it has been pressed into the argument. We now proceed to test that analogy, and see whether it is as sound as it is specious. That man was the microcosm was a fancy which long retarded the advance of sound views of physio¬ logy. Man, the miniature of the Trinity, may be the same misleading conception in psychology. So long as men thought that there were four elements in nature, and that out of these elements our bodily form was built up, and that the soul was a quint¬ essence of the other four, no rational system of physiology was possible. The spirits, as they were called down to the time of Cullen, formed an impor¬ tant part of medical diagnosis of disease. What the i^8 Analogies from spirits were no one could exactly say, but the fiction that air, the fourth element, enters into the composi¬ tion of the human frame, led to the conception of an entity called the spirit, which was as purely imaginary as the geography of Paradise, the situation of Limbus, or other questions on which the middle ages exercised their ingenuity to little or no purpose. Analogies are of all arguments the most deceptive. That forward, forth-reaching faculty may land us on to the shore of truth, but it may as often mistake a sleeping whale for an island, and land us where there is not a foothold of certainty. Such has been the fate of all analogies from man to the universe, and such will the analogy prove, from the trichotomy to the Trinity. It will not bear the weight of solid reason. Man is made in the image of God. It is but a single step from this to say with Augustine, “ Man has three parts—spirit, soul, and body. Man, therefore, is an image of the sacred Trinity.” “ Homo habet tres partes, spiritum animum et corpus, itaque est imago Sacrosanctae Trinitatis ” (Aug. de Symbolo). We may be tempted even to carry this into detail as Augustine had the good sense not to do. We may say that such as is the inner nature of God, such will be the inner nature of man. God has three persons in one substance, man has three natures in one person. God is will, word, and work; the pur¬ pose, its plan, and its performance; thought in idea, thought in execution, and thought as it has passed out x 39 The Doctrine of the Trinity. into action.* In man we can trace, they say, the same idea of the Trinity. He is pure will or spirit; the will gathers itself into thought and becomes a soul, that thought again embodies itself m an outwar form. This trinity in unity, moreover, is as indivis¬ ible in man as in God. There can be no soulless spirit, no spiritless soul. As in theology, suc y^ s the Father is, such is the Son, so in psychology, will is immanent in thought, and thought emanent from the will, as the Son dwells in the bosom of the Father. The two are necessary to each other, co¬ existent and co-equal. Again, when thought is mixed with will, it must result in action. So the Spirit pro¬ ceeds from the Father and the Son. The body m man according to this new theosophy, is not the paitnei o the soul, much less its prison ; it is itself the soul, the soul in act, as the soul is the body in idea. As t e universe in this pantheistic conception is not the work of God, but a necessary process of evolution, by the which God comes to full consciousness, so the body is the idea of a life which has taken form,. and built to itself a house of flesh by a process of internal self¬ evolution. * See Rudloff (Lehre vom Mesnchen, p. 102), whose otherwise useful book is weakened by this analogy, compares the spirit, soul and Nephes , or, as e calls it, nerve-spirit, to the blessed Trinity respectively. Delitzsch who ver) properly rejects these analogies, has one of his own which, though unobjec¬ tionable, is somewhat mystical and cabbalistic. He compares spirit, soul, and body to God, Doxa, or His glory and the world. Milton s description o light, “ Bright effluence of bright essence uncreate,” is intelligible in comparison to this personification of an abstract conception such as the gldry of God.— See Delitzch Psychologie, p. 225. ft 140 Analogies from We might carry these analogies much farther, and yet fall short of the lengths to which Hegel has carried this dressing up of psychology in the terms of theology. In the case of Hegel and his school, the thought that man is the image of God has been carried to such lengths that at last it breaks down under its own load of analogies. Pushed beyond the point of analogy, /.s avpoeirov, a light unap¬ proachable, which no man hath seen or can see. Mystics like Bohmen and Baadai speak of nature as grounded on God, not m the sense that all would ad¬ mit, but as if there were in the being of God a blind instinct or impulse which lay at the basis of all exist¬ ence,* and which, when overcome and possessed by the ideal or free principle, as we see it is in the case of man, advances to a higher state of spiritual existence. God is thus the pattern of all things. Nature lies un¬ conscious in God 5 creation is its evolution out of Him, and it attains to a sense of separate consciousness and distinct personality in man, the crowning work of creation and the image of God. Such are the steps by which Mysticism passes into Pantheism, and a Scriptural truth that man is made in the image of God is degraded into the dangerous notion that God is the image of man. This pantheistic unification of God and man does not stop here. It goes on to confound God and nature together. Nature, as well as man, is the image of the invisible God. xhe piototype of all things that we see, its idea in the Platonic sense, exists in God, so that creation is only evolution, the emana¬ tion of what existed already immanently in God. There is no safegaurd against errors like these but in returning to sound and Scriptural views of Creation- * See a letter of Jos. Fr. Molitor on Bohmen’s notion of Nature in God quoted by Delitszch, p. 53. Psychologie, 2d Ed. K I 146 Analogies from the ism. As the tap root of Pantheism lies in the relation of man to God, we can only destroy Pantheism by clearly distinguishing the creationist from the emana¬ tion conception in Genesis ii. 7 * Man as to body and soul is but a work of God: it is only the spirit, or conscience towards God which is a breath of God, an emanation from Him. We do not care to say with the Alexandrian school that man’s body and soul have been created, not so much after the image of God himself as after the image of the Logos,* and is thus an image after an image. We lose the significance of the incarnation (exsvcossii Lavrov, Phil. ii. 8) if we think of any likeness or oneness of nature between us and Christ before He took our nature upon Him at His birth. It is sounder and safer to speak both of the animal and intellectual natures in man as created by the word of God. With man’s spirit the case is dif¬ ferent. Here we rise above the ordinary conception of creation, and think of it as a procession from God. Not as the Pattern of one Person in particular of the blessed Trinity, but as coming from the Father, by the Son, through the Holy Spirit. The conclusion, then, we come to is, that the mystery of the Trinity stands by itself, and is not to be brought in to explain either how man consists of three natures in one, or of the relation of those natures to each other. Theosophy, or the attempt to define the inner nature of God, from conceptions taken from the nature of man, is not so innocent as it seems. Anthropomorph¬ ism is idolatry in its earlier stages,—Theosophy is * Vide Hagenbach History of Dogmas. *47 Doctrine of the Trinity. idolatry in its more cultured stage. But idolatry is equally hateful to God whenever or however indulged in. The Supreme Being is God and not man, and however He may be pleased in creation to impart some of his nature to man by breathing into his nostrils the quickening spirit, and however in grace to take our nature upon Him, and to partake of flesh and blood, this, so far from countenancing presumptuous analogies from the trichotomy to the Trinity, directly forbids it —as teaching us that any community of nature which we have with Him is all of His own good will—who formed us to be his creatures and spiritual offspring, and who has redeemed us, that we might not fail of this end of our being. ON THE PNEUMA AS THE FACULTY WHICH DISTINGUISHES MAN FROM THE BRUTE. The old psychology was content to rest the difference between man and the lower animals on his possessing a soul or thinking principle. That distinction can be maintained no longer. "We must take higher ground, and seek elsewhere than in the distinction between reason and instinct for the secret of man’s superiority to the brute, or we shall have to give it up altogether, and submit to the teaching of those who hold the development theory, and that man is an improved ape. The distinction between reason and instinct was the starting-point of the Cartesian philosophy. On the assumed validity of this distinction, modern psychology has built its house on what, we fear, must turn out to be a foundation of sand. If, on closer inquiry, psychologists are now pre¬ pared to admit that many of those processes that we call reasonable in man are really instinctive, and that many of the so-called instinctive acts of the lower creation are based on processes undistinguishable from reason, we shall be forced to choose some other Phe Pneuma , JS/Laii s Distinctive Pacuity. 149 ground on which to rest man s acknowledged supre¬ macy. Science is effacing some of the old landmarks between reason and instinct- on which the Cartesian school relied, and the rest are held on very doubtful authority. Spiritual philosophy has hitherto thought herself safe behind the outwork of reason. She will have to retreat to her citadel if she would hold out against the assault of naturalism. It is here, there¬ fore, that Christian spiritualism comes to reinforce psychology, by pointing out a difference, not of de¬ gree only, but of kind, between animal and human intelligences. The Pneuma, or conscience toward God, is the differentia of man, his title to immoitality, his distinguishing mark from all the lower creation. Not only are the anatomical differences between man and the ape disappearing under modern research, but even the differences between the volume and structure of the brain, on which Professor Owen took his stand a few years ago, are not substantiated by modern physiologists. It is only by difference in degree that Professor Owen is able to establish the existence of his sub-class of Archencephala, to which position he assigns man. It will be admitted that these differences in degree, when many and various, are tantamount to a difference in kind. But if the intellectual nature of man admits of almost infinite degrees, from the genius of Pascal and Newton to the mind of an idiot who suns himself under the wall of the asylum which shelters him, it is impossible to deny that some animals are intelligent agents, as much above 1^-0 The Ptieuma , idiots and infants as they are below Newton and Pascal. Man both sinks and soars as the brute can¬ not, but his intelligence is only a power of generalising from particulars, in which he leaves the brute far behind; but if this were all, the Indian’s hope of his faithful dog bearing him company to heaven, would not be so unfounded as we commonly take it to be. Professor Agassiz, as quoted by Sir C. Lyell, con¬ fesses that he cannot say in what the mental faculties of a child differ from those of a young chimpanzee. “ The range of the passions of animals is as extensive as that of the human mind, and I am at a loss to per¬ ceive a difference of kind between them, however much they may differ in degree and in the manner in which they are expressed. The gradations of the moral faculties among the higher animals and man are, moreover, so imperceptible, that to deny to the first a certain sense of responsibility and consciousness would certainly be an exaggeration of the difference between animals and man. There exists, besides, as much individuality within the respective capabilities among animals as among man, as every sportsman, or every keeper of menageries, or every farmer and shepherd can testify, who has had a large experience with wild or tamed or domesticated animals. This argues strongly in favour of the existence in every animal of an imma¬ terial principle similar to that which, by its excellence and superior endowments, places man so much above animals. Yet the principle exists unquestionably; and whether it be called soul, instinct, or reason, it pre¬ sents, on the whole range of organised beings, a series Man s Distinctive Faculty. 151 of phenomena closely linked together, and upon it are based not only the higher manifestations of the mind, but the very permanence of the specific differences which characterise every organ. Most of the aigu- ments of philosophy in favour of the immortality of man apply equally to the permanency of this piinciple in other living beings.”''" Again, M. Quatrefages, as quoted by Sir C. Lyell, observes, that the moral and religious aie the only two attributes not common to man and brutes 5 tmd that it is on the possession of these that he would lest the distinction of man from the brutes. As to his organization, he observes, we find in the mammalia nearly absolute identity of anatomical stiuc- ture, bone for bone, muscle for muscle, neive foi nci ve, similar organs performing like functions. It is not by a vertical position on his feet, or the os sublime of Ovid, which he shares with the penguin ; nor by his mental faculties, which, though more developed, are fundamentally the same as those of animals; nor by his powers of perception, with memory and a cei tain amount of reason ; nor by articulate speech, which he shares with birds and some mammalia, and by which they express ideas comprehended not only by indi¬ viduals of their own species, but often by man ; nor is it by the faculties of the heart, such as love and hatred, which are also shared by quadrupeds and birds; but it is by something completely foreign to the mere animal, and belonging exclusively to man, that we must * Fid. Lyell’s “ Antiquity of Man,” p. 493. 1^2 The Pneuma, establish a separate kingdom for him. These dis¬ tinguishing characters, he goes on to say, are the abstract notion of good and evil, right and wrong, virtue and vice, or the moral faculty and a belief in a world beyond ours, and in certain mysterious beings or a Being of a higher nature than ours, whom we ought to fear or revere: in other words, the religious faculty. The very term, u pure reason,’’ which has come into use since the time of Kant, implies that psycho¬ logy has had to give up the old ground on which it took its stand, and to fall back on a fresh distinction and a new refinement in order to maintain the superi¬ ority of man to the brute, without appealing to the Book which settles the question, by telling us that man was made after the image and likeness of God. There are so many operations of the higher mammalia which refuse to be classed under the name of instincts, that we are fain to speak of the “ half-reasoning ele¬ phant,” and to admit the faithful dog as fit company for man almost to the portal of the sky. Where are we to part company, where are we to draw the divid¬ ing line between man and brute? Nowhere that we can see short of the point where man is endowed with the high gift of knowing God, of feeling his accounta¬ bility to Him, of enjoying communion with Him. Kant’s psychology is grounded on the distinction between reason and understanding. The one, ver- nunft or reason, is proper and peculiar to man; the other, verstcind. or understanding, he has in common with the animals, though in a higher degree, and Mans Distinctive Faculty. i 53 capable of much more extended exercise. By the one, man reasons a priori by analogies of his own mental judgments; by the other a posteriori by observation and comparison of things outside him. Thus there are two classes of judgments, analytical and synthetical,* growing out of the reason and understanding severally; and the transcendental method which Kant and his followers attempted, with what success we do not here venture to say, is nothing else than the effort to raise the pure reason above all those disturbing data which are derived from the understanding, and to set it to work in vacuo in its own upper region of thought. No one will deny that there are wide fields of thought outside, or rather above all test of experience. Mathe¬ matical reasoning is nothing else than the deduction of the necessary laws of thought about numbei. The superior certainty in which mathematical excel moral and other sciences, arises from this, that the proofs are so many deductions from within. So long as we keep to our own laws of thought, which is the sphere of pure mathematics, so long our proofs will be as un¬ erring as they are self-evident. It is only when we bring in some fact from experience that there is room for error. Hence, as soon as we apply mathematics to shipbuilding, to the science of projectiles, astronomy, and so forth, its character for superior certainty dis- * We do not forget that according to Kant there are a priori judgments which are synthetical and not analytical, only, or explicative Mathematical lodgments, he says, are synthetical, not as commonly supposed to be analytical. Thft . 4 - 7 = 12 is not to shewa mere analytical proposition, but a new judg¬ ment not contained in the simple ideas of 5 and 7 . Still, for practical purposes, it is correct enough to say that analytical and synthetical judgments belong to the reason and understanding respectively. *54 The Pneuma , appears, and there are as keen disputes between rival shipbuilders, cannon founders, and astronomers, as between jurists, divines, and economists. That ele¬ ment of certainty which has given to mathematics the name of science par excellence is the pure reason which, we agree with Kant, is distinctive of man from the brute. But we think that Kant has greatly exaggerated the powers of pure reason, and extended their range. So far from accepting his phrase, a transcendental logic, we think his whole scheme of pure reason, with its transcendental dialectic, its antinomies, and so forth, to be so much piling up of clouds. It is mere posture making to draw out a succession of quiddities which we call ideas of pure thought, and to contrast, as Kant attempts to do, our ideas derived from within with conceptions from without. As we cannot make one hair white or black, so we are reasoning too fast if we affirm with Kant that 5 + 7 = 12 is an a priori synthetical judgment, since the very data themselves on which we found our judgment arise from sense- perception. It is true that reason gives laws of thought to the understanding, but the understanding again supplies reason with its materials for thought, so that the benefits are reciprocal, and the mind is unable to say how much she owes to thought, and how much to things. 11 The laws of thought ” is a much less objectionable expression than “ the logic of pure reason.’’ To the former, as traced out by Archbishop Thompson and others, we see no objection ; on the contrary, it is important to take our stand against the school of sensation, on the ground that there are Mans Distinctive faculty. 155 certain truths a priori of all experience, forms into which we lay the knowledge we acquire through sense- perception, as bees first prepare the cells in which they lay their honey. But it is another thing to make out of these inert and abstract forms active principles. They are conditions of the thinkable rathei than thoughts properly so called. The very antinomies, of which Kant makes such account, are only intelligible when stated in terms derived from experience. Like the cells to which we have already compared them, they are shaped on one invariable pattern. The highest acts of pure reason, as well as those of blind instinct, have this mark of necessity in common. It is humiliat¬ ing to our boasted ascendency, that we can only take out of our thoughts what we have put in from with¬ out. The cells of the bee are always hexagons; in this respect there are no degrees of excellence wheie all are perfect. The quality of the honey depends upon the flowers which the bees have sipped. . So of reason and understanding. Admitting the distinction as more than a verbal one, still the difference between man and the brute, and between one man and the other, is less in the reasoning process itself than in the vigour of mind and powers of concentration and ab¬ straction which one man possesses ovei another. To what, then, are we to look as distinguishing man from the brute, if not to the necessary laws of thought ? Partly, as Archbishop Sumner pointed out, in his Records of Creation, to the power of progres¬ sive and improvable reason, but principally to the power of will. By will we understand not the meie The Pneuma , 156 arbitrium , or power of selection only, which even Buridanus’ ass, between two bundles of hay, must possess, but that of selection with approval , or con¬ science, that the thing selected is good or evil, true or false, right or wrong. Thus the tree of the know¬ ledge of good and evil, beside which the two first human beings were placed, not to tempt but to test them for spiritual existence, is the real criterion between man and the brute. So far from that proba¬ tion of Adam appearing a difficulty, as it is to those who ask the question why God exposed our first parents to a temptation which he knew they could not withstand, we rather regard it the other way. With¬ out some such probation, it would be impossible for man at all to exercise the spiritual faculty of knowing and serving God. In this test of obedience lay the real superiority of Adam over every other living creature. Thus the contingency to evil could have been avoided only in one way, by denying to man the pneumatical faculty altogether ; freedom to choose the good and to refuse the evil, is involved in the very definition of what a spirit is. Man might have been innocent on lower terms, but it would have been the innocence of the idiot or the infant, who knows neither good nor evil. There is no scaling a height without passing along the brink of deep precipices; so it was that with a possibility of failure man was permitted to make the attempt to rise from the animal to the spiritual, and to become in effect, as he was in idea, the image of God upon earth. Under that attempt he failed; and where 7 Man s Distinctive Faculty. Adam failed, all his posterity fail also. But though man has fallen, conscience nevertheless remains as the distinguishing faculty of man ; the mark of his superi¬ ority lies in his sense of moral accountability to an un¬ seen but righteous Judge. He is more excellent than the brute in other respects, but in one he stands out unique and peculiar. His thoughts “ the meanwhile accuse and excuse one another.” He has a conscience which tells him of God and a hereafter. This con¬ science fails, it is true, to answer its proper end. It does not raise him up to enjoy communion with God. It crouches in the lower region of fear, where super¬ stitions batten on their prey, and false religions tor¬ ment without appeasing the conscience. It cannot soar to the higher regions, where perfect love casteth out fear, where faith and hope exercise themselves in view of a glorious hereafter. But it is nevertheless a testimony to what God intended us to be. We are thus brought to the point where we are able to decide what it is of the Pneuma, or God-con¬ sciousness, which remains in the psychical or fallen man in his unregenerate state. Conscience, and not pure reason, is the distinguishing mark between man and the brute.* Were man to lose this accusing and * It may seem fighting for a shadow when we distinguish between the practical reason or conscience of Kant and Coleridge, and the Pneuma properly so called. Kant, we allow, comes very near the mark in his distinction between the speculative and practical reason, the former of which is dialectical, the latter intuitive only. Still there is a distinction. Kant’s practical reason or conscience is not a spiritual faculty, properly so called. Duty, not devotion, is its proper sphere—its range is ethical not religious—its last word is the categorical imperative of the Stoic, not the cry of the Psalmist, “Oh God, thou art my God, early will I seek thee.” This is why, while admitting Coleridge’s favourite distinction between understanding and reason to be a valid Ihe Pneuma , 158 excusing faculty, he would soon lose self-consciousness as well, and sink quite to the level of the brute. “ Mere fellowship of sluggish moods ; Or, in his coarsest satyr shape, Had bruised the herb or crushed the grape, Or basked and battened in the woods.” There is a point where it is conceivable that man could have sunk beyond the reach of the redemption which is in Christ Jesus. As the sin of the angels, being spiritual wickedness, a sin from within, excludes the thought of their recovery; so were man, in the other extreme, to lose the last spark of God-conscious¬ ness remaining in the witness of conscience, he would then be in the state of those whom St. Jude describes as twice dead. Thus it is important to see where to draw the line when we say that man is fallen, and that the spirit is dead in trespasses and sins. The spirit is dead as to all higher exercises of faith, hope, and charity ; but not so dead as to have lost all fear of God, all sense of dependence on Him, or all sense that his law is the supreme standard of right. Were man to lose this remains of the spirit which we call conscience, then he would have no sin, farther than a dog can do evil by snatching a bone, regardless of the beating which it knows is in store for it. So our Lord says to the Pharisees, “If ye were blind, ye should have no sin ; but now ye say we see, therefore your sin remaineth.’’ one, we class both reason and understanding as sub-divisions of the same gene¬ ral faculty of the Psyche, while we reserve conscience, or the moral and spiritual element in man, as the distinct or third element in human nature, to which exclusively we give the name of Pneuma, Mans Distinctive Faculty. 159 Thus we identify conscience with the remains of the Pneuma in fallen man. What confirms this view of the case is the remarkable fact that we nowhere in the gospels read of the conscience of the Lord Jesus Christ. We should be loth to say with Apollinaris that this arises from the Holy Spirit in his case being the substitute for the human Pneuma. Since Christ was perfect man, he took all three parts of our nature, spirit, soul, and body. But then He took them in all their perfection, and that without any spot of sin, original or actual. Hence the human Pneuma in Christ was a perfect Pneuma, not that feeble semi- animate conscience which stirs, and only stirs, in our present fallen nature. Christ appealed to the con¬ sciences of men ; he convinced their consciences ; and on one occasion, condemned by their conscience, a whole assembly went out from his presence one by one* But in the case of Him who always lived in unbroken communion with God, the expression con¬ science would be quite inadequate to express that full intercourse of his spirit with that of his Father in heaven. Such exercises of prayer as his, such nights of rapt enjoyment of God, and of ecstacy of spiritual worship are, in comparison with the stirrings of God- consciousness in us, what sunlight is to the smoking wick of an expiring candle. If conscience were an integral part of sinless human nature, we should read of it in Christ. But supposing it to be the remains * See Auberlen’s very suggestive remarks on this apparent absence of con¬ science in Christ in an article in Herzog’s Cyclopadie.—sub. voce Geist. Vol. iv. p. 733. 7he Pneuma. 160 of a nobler faculty, which has been injured past human recovery, then we can see why it is that while we read of the spirit of Christ, of his being troubled in spirit, and knowing in his spirit, we do not read o the conscience of Christ. Conscience and the law of, God are correlative terms; and as the holy Christ lived above the law, so he lived above the level of con¬ science. The lower in his case was taken up into the higher. Instead of legal obedience, he delighted in the law of God; instead of obeying the voice of con¬ science, he was led up of the Spirit. God’s Spirit dwelled in his Spirit in a union as deep. and mystical as that of the Persons of the Blessed Trinity. As conscience, then, or God-consciousness, is the differentia between man and brute, so, on the other hand, it is the germ of that glorious faculty which, when quickened by God the Holy Spirit, renews us in the image of God. Thus all men have a Pneuma, but none are pneumatical save they who are led by the Spirit of God. And, again, when conscience is raised from a mere dormant capacity to become an active habit, it not only witnesses for God, but also delights in Him, serves Him, and longs to know Him more perfectly. THE STATE OF THE PNEUMA IN MAN SINCE THE FALL. We have seen that neither soul nor spirit are distinct monads, but that man himself in his totality of body, soul, and spirit, is the monad or centre of force. His nature or law of existence is to unite body, soul, and spirit in one complex whole, a Gordian knot which may be cut by sin and death, but which cannot be untied. Any theories of human nature which fail to realise this, either by confounding or dividing the tripartite nature of man, come short of the Christian doctrine on this subject. Man is incomplete unless sanctified wholly, spirit, soul, and body, unto the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.* * Dr Arnold has well expressed the nature of man as three aspects of the one individual man. The following extract from one of his sermons will illustrate this:—“Thus, then, when this threefold division of our nature is mentioned, the term body expresses those appetites which we have in common with the brates ; the term soul denotes our moral and intellectual faculties, directed only towards objects of the world, and not exalted by the hope of immortality; and the term spirit takes these same faculties when directed towards God and heavenly things, and from the purity, the greatness and the perfect goodness of Him who is their object, transformed into the same image, from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord.” * * * * * * “ It may be observed further, although the term ‘ soul ’ includes both our moral and intellectual nature, so far as it regards this life only, yet it appears in a particular manner to express the latter. Indeed, if we set aside our relation to God as His creatures, if we dissolve the community or covenant subsisting between Him and ourselves, it seems as if the faculties of the L 162 The State of the Pneuma We have now to consider the historical relation of the three parts of man’s nature to each othei, as we have before considered their ideal. To use a distinc¬ tion of M. Cousin, that which is logically prior is chronologically posterior and vice versa. In the idea of man, spirit appears first, then soul, then body. But in man as he is and was created from the beginning we observe the reverse order. The animal life is the first to manifest itself, then the rational, and last of all the spiritual or divine life in man. To use the words of the Apostle, “Howbeit that was not fiist which was spiritual, but that which was natural, and after¬ wards that which was spiritual.' * The first pair were created, as we have reason to suppose, adults in stature and intellect, but infants in ■: spiritual growth and experience. On the former understanding rose at once in our estimation, and the intellect or mind assumed a place above the moral virtues. When God is regarded solely as the Supreme Being , His infinite wisdom may naturally appear to us His most peculiar attribute. And thus Aristotle urges this exercise of our contem¬ plative understanding as the means by which we may most resemble God from intellect, or that which has most kindred with the divine nature. Whereas, St. John, accustomed to look upon God as he is related to us, con¬ siders his essential attribute to be love, and directs us therefore to seek to become one with God by cultivating our affections. In speaking of the soul, therefore, as distinguished from the spirit, although both terms include our moral and intellectual nature, yet in the first, intellect or reason is the predominant idea, while in the second, though knowledge is not excluded, the principal idea is of charity or love.”—See Sermon XXVI. of Dr T. Arnold’s Sermons, 3d edition, London, 1832. * Coleridge has set out with the distinction of prudential, moral, and spiritual as the starting point of his inquiries in his Aids to Reflection. If we substitute instinctive for prudential the division substantially agrees with ours. Prudential falls in more with the intellect or psychical man, and so is hardly distinguishable from the moral, whereas our instincts spring from the lower or sensitive life. Self-preservation is of the animal, but prudence or pro¬ vidence of the rational nature. Since the Fall. 163 assertion we need not waste inquiry. The institution of marriage in Eden proves that man did not begin his days in immature childhood. Whether his intellectual powers were as developed as his animal, whether Aristotle was as inferior to Adam as the Academy was to Eden, is an inquiry which we may also pass by as more curious than profitable.^ But on this we may lest with some degree of confidence, that the pneuma in Adam was given in its rudimentary or infant stage of growth, and that he was placed in Eden foi that very purpose, that he should grow in grace and in the knowledge of God, as he had no need to grow in bodily stature, or possibly even in intellectual power. Irenceus has noticed this distinction between the creation of man as physically and psychically an adult, but in spirit an infant. Man, he said, was created in an infantile state of mind, though in the image of God. He was like a child who is unable at first to eat strong meat, but must have his senses exercised by reason of use. Christ alone, he says, has led us up by the gift of the Holy Spirit to that higher state of being in which we can see God. The first life in man was per afflatum , not per spiritum , a distinction which he grounds on this, that the Lord breathed on his disciples after his lesui- rection, but when the Holy Ghost was not as yet * See South’s discourse on the image of God in man. “ An Aristotle was but the rubbish of an Adam, and Athens but the rudiments of paradise. South traces the image of God in three parts of man, but they are the under¬ standing, the will, and the passions or affections. This corresponds to the Platonic trichotomy but not to the Pauline, as we have already seen. 164 The State of the Pneuma given. This afflatus, or breathing, on man at crea¬ tion, was that partial gift of the Spirit which did not long remain with man: it is (-rpoexaipog) for a season only, and does not enable us to see God; while the gift of the Holy Ghost is indwelling and ever dwel¬ ling (uwotov). (See Irenseus, b. iv. 38, vi. 36, Ed. Stieren).* Of the second righteous Adam, the Lord from heaven, we read that He increased in wisdom and in stature, and in favour with God and man. The intellectual and physical growth are referred to in the first clause, the spiritual or moral (for they are two sides of the same thing) is referred to in the second. Thus, the trichotomy of man is here distinctly referred to, and in the case of the holy child Jesus, spirit, soul, and body, all harmoniously grow and unfold as bud, blossom, and fruit do in the living tree. We reject instinctively, in His case, the thought of anything prodigious or premature in the development of his faculties. We think of the Blessed Spirit indwelling in Him (given, it is true, without measure), but still proportionate to His capacities and powers. As the intellect and stature were that of a child, so the spiritual receptivity. The Pneuma in Him was beyond that of other ordinary children, but not disproportionate with what would have been the case had Adam reached the standard he was intended to attain to, and as a spiritual nature, and now adopted Son of God, had * On the Psychology of Irenseus, see an interesting article in the Studien und Kritiken for 1863. Since the Fall. 165 begotten a son in that likeness, and after that image.* Christ, the second Adam, is rather thus the pattern of what Adam’s children would have been, had he not sinned, than of what Adam was, when first made and put into paradise. The distinction is im¬ portant, as it enables us to see what man has lost by the fall. He has lost the power of propagating a spiritual progeny ex ti~aduce. That which is born of the flesh is flesh. Cain and Abel inherited the whole nature of their parents, the animal body, the intellectual soul, but not the Divine Pneuma. Whether that could ever have passed down ex traduce may seem an inquiry on which we are reasoning without data. But not altogether so. The capacity or receptivity of spiritual influences was created with the first Adam, and the baie capacity as an integral part of mans natuie could not be destroyed by the fall. As a dead organ, a rudimentary organ, without corresponding functions (as physiologists speak of the mammae in males, 01 the toes in a horse’s hoof, or the teeth in a whale s jaws), so the spiritual capacity has passed down from Adam through all his posterity. But as they aie f The Apollinarian theory, that the indwelling Spirit in Christ was the substitute for the human pneuma, not only derogates from his perfect man¬ hood, but also tends to throw confusion on the whole subject of the relation of the human spirit to the divine. Apollinaris’ error was twofold—first, in adopting the Platonic trichotomy in which Ao'yos or NoDs, the pure and im¬ personal Reason was the sovereign part—secondly, in substituting the thiid 1 ei- son of the Blessed Trinity for the human Nous in the man Christ Jesus. The Apollinarian error on this subject was, as we have seen, one of the reasons why the trichotomy was looked on with suspicion. It has been inconsiderately adopted by V. Rudloff as the right theory of the human nature of Christ. See his JLehre •vom Menschen , p. m, 2d ed. 166 "The State of the Pneuma born in sin and shaped in iniquity, the defect becomes apparent, as soon as the intellectual nature begins to stir itself, and the motions of sin are felt in the animal nature. Then the want of the regulative or divine faculty in man is felt. Reason begins to put itself forth, and we watch the pretty blossoms of intellect, first in the retentive memory, and after awhile in the ripening of judgment. But where is the u residue of the Spirit ?” Where is God s monitor and witness in man ? God has not quite left Himself without wit¬ ness, but it is generally an accusing, not a comforting, voice within. Conscientia, or the knowledge which we have of ourselves and our conduct, the eye of God in the soul, seldom sees much to approve, but much to disapprove of.* The passions begin to break out in our animal nature, and we give way to them. Rea¬ son, like Eli, shakes its head at these follies of our youth, but we pay reason no more respect than the wicked sons of Eli did their father’s remonstrance. Conscience, or the dormant pneuma, which still wit¬ nesses for God, mourns over these things in secret, but it cannot alter them. The government is not in * Les moralistes ont beaucoup parle des joies d’une bonne conscience ils ont trop meconnu ses peines. Je dis les peines d’une conscience droite. Le devoir est un maitre exigeant. La conscience devient plus delicate a mesure qu’elle se purifie, ce que semblait licite, ne le paraft plus: le scrupule est la bizarre aux yeux du monde angoissant pour celui qui la porte en son sein. On gravit peniblement la montagne, et a mesure qu’on avance le sommet semble reculer, et defier les atteintes du voyageur. Quelles sources de douleurs, douleurs saintes sans doute, mille fois preferable aux plaisirs de la vie, mais douleurs enfin. Oh le douleur tout seul sans explication, sans experance, sans avenir. Le de¬ voir est un noble maitre mais c’est un maitre dont le joug est dur, et le fardeau pesant.—Naville du Vie Eternelle, Disc. i. Since-the Fall. 1 &7 As hands. It is young and immature it has the autho¬ rity, but not the power to enforce its authority, and so the character is formed, and a bias to evil of some Snd or other grows when young which nothing will ever afterwards break down ; till mighty sovereign grace stirs our stagnant being to the depths and be¬ ginning with awakening the pneuma, makes all things This we take to be a fair account of man s condi¬ tion since the fall. Thus the defect of good in every man, as naturally born into the world, turns the char¬ acter to evil. Original or birth sin is thus not so much our fault, crimen ; it is rather our misfortune, culpa. But whether our fault or our misfortune only, the consequences are equally the same. Man is b°rn into the world incapable of attaining the true ideal of human nature, as in the case of the only one of woman born who was born without sin. Thus Adam differs from his posterity in these two respects He was born innocent, and also endowed with inherent capacities for becoming spiritual: we are neither innocent by birth nor capable of becoming spiritual by our innate powers. The first Adam was innocent; we are not. By innocent we mean that negative kind of goodness which is distinct from ho 1- ness, in that it lacks the sense of the presence of Go . A lamb is innocent, for instance; it fulfils all the ends of its nature, and in the right order and way. It is not, like a venomous beast, the minister of evil to any. It does not taste happiness at the expense of any ot er _its gain is no other animal’s loss. Now Adam might 168 The State of the Pnenma have been formed for innocence of this kind, and with no higher end in view. His innocence would then have been the perfection of an animal and intellectual nature, body and psyche, well strung and attuned, capable of large generalizations and lofty ideals, mak¬ ing immense acquisitions of knowledge, beaming with benevolence, but with nothing entitling him to immor¬ tality. He might, in that case, have lived a Goethe kind of existence, as an intellectualist and an art wor¬ shipper, and died with perhaps the same exclamation on his lips, u More light, more light.’’ He would have answered the end of his existence, and reached his ideal, but that would have been not a little lower, or for a little time lower than the angels, but altogether, and for ever, lower than they. This would have been the innocence of Adam had he been created psychical only, and with no pneumati- cal capacity. But we are not born innocent as he was. Our rational and animal natures do not work harmoniously, but in discord. Not only does the flesh lust against the Spirit, and the Spirit against the flesh, but also our understanding and our appetites draw in opposite directions, so that we cannot do the things that we would. A state of innocence in which the intellect has the mastery of the passions is more imaginary than real. It may be so with a few studi¬ ous men, and a smaller list still of passionless poets like Wordsworth, of whom Hazlitt the critic, says, that he seemed to have lived in a world in which there was no marrying nor giving in marriage. We see an approach to this ideal state, though, as we cannot read Since the Fall. 169 their inner lives, we cannot say how much of mannerism and the desire of applause was concealed behind so much simplicity. We can judge none but ourselves, but of this we may be sure, that as man is not leason and desire only, but conscience and will as well, he cannot satisfy his nature merely by restraining, his passions and indulging his intellect. He has instincts after God which nothing but God can satisfy, and these cravings of conscience must either be fed with the clay of superstition or the true bread which cometli down from heaven. This leads us to the second distinction between us and Adam. We are neither born innocent as he was, nor capable of becoming pneumatical through the native powers of the pneuma. This was Adam s glori¬ ous privilege, the excellence in which he came forth with his Maker’s image stamped upon him. . When God breathed into his nostrils the breath of lives,. he was given that which we called the -pneuma , 01 spirit, the conscientia or consciousness common between him and God. Bishop Sanderson’s explanation of consci¬ ence, as that which is common to us and God, may seem fanciful ; but we think it explains the use of the plural lives. The knowledge of good and evil is our life, and it is God’s life. As rational beings, we know the relationship of things to each other; as moral beings, we know their relation to ourselves. Thus moral-consciousness is so much more divine than the critical faculty that it is God’s life within us, as reason is not. Sceptics, like Hume, can with some good show of reason deny that we have any proper idea of causa- 170 The *SAz/ new et ^ 3 2 6 The Resurrection Body. u Do you not perceive that we are worms, born to form the angelic butterfly ? ” Thus the analogy from the insect to the man suggests three states, not two. In the insect there is the grub and the butterfly, with an intermediate state of death between. In man there is the natural body and the spiritual body, with an existence of the dis¬ embodied spirit-soul in hades, corresponding to the pupa state. The old dichotomy, which divided man into body and soul, the one mortal, the other immortal, failed to see the true analogy which the transformation of insects suggests. This is not to be wondered at in pre-christian times; but it is not a little extraordinary that Christian philosophers should have failed to see that the doctrine of the resurrection of the body did not fit in with the old dichotomy of man into body and soul. The analogy from insect life should have set them on the right track, if it were not too often the case that an error once stereotyped goes on repeating itself by the mere vis inertiae. Men go on repeating words without weighing their meaning, or suspecting that with a change of sense they cease to connote the ideas they formerly did. Thus the psyche of Apulaeus has furnished illustrations for sermons innumerable on the nature of man’s existence after death. To do Locke and the school of Christian materialists justice, they have reasserted the doctrine of the resurrection of the body as against the prevailing conception of the immortality of the soul. But failing to grasp the higher truth of the pneuma or life of God in man, they have missed altogether the meaning of the intermediate state. They The Resurrection Body. 3 2 7 have reduced it to a state of entire unconsciousness, which is quite as far from the mark in one extreme as the popular doctrine of an immortal pysche is m the other. , • i . The transmutation of insects suggests the right conception on this subject. There are three stages o being in man, as there are in the insect, correspon mg each to each. The larva, pupa, and imago, correspoiu to the natural body, the disembodied soul, and the spiritual body in man. The trichotomy is the only view which rightly represents this, or makes e metaphor from insect life at all applicable as a parable of the stages man is to pass through. Dichotomists fail to apprehend one of two trut ts- either they fail to see the meaning of the intermediate state, or of the resurrection body. On the one han , those who hold with Locke and the materialists that the brain is the organ of thought in as full a sense as that the tongue is the organ of speech, describe t e intermediate state as one of entire unconsciousness, ant so miss the meaning of that stage of man s being. On the other hand, the spiritualist school of Descar es generally think of the disembodied soul as in heaven or in glory ; and so, instead of the resurrection of the body being the full redemption of man it is raner something superadded to it, and a difficu ty mste,. o an evidence for the truth of the Christian revelation. It is only on the theory of the trichotomy of human nature into body, soul, and spirit that we can give its due emphasis either to the intermediate or the state o final blessedness. Man, like the insect, is destined to 328 The Resurrection Body. pass through three stages of being, the first preparatory to the second, and the second to the third. He does not lose his identity in passing from the state of the psychical body to that of a psychical pneuma in hades, and from that on to the full perfection of being as a pneumatical body at the resurrection morning. It would be a wrong application of the analogy to say that because the chrysalis state of the ins’ect is one of entire insensibility, it must be so in man. “ If sleep and death be truly one, And every spirit’s folded bloom, Through all its intervital gloom, In some long trance should slumber on. “ So then were nothing lost to man, So that still garden of the souls, In many a figured leaf enrolls The total world since life began.” We need not suppose that because the chrysalis sleeps man is therefore unconscious in hades. That, like so many cocoons hanging on the twigs in a garden, the spirit-soul life of the departed is “ Unconscious of the sliding hour, • Pure of the body, might it last; And silent traces of the past Be of the colour of the flower.” The analogy from the insect would rather suggest another thought. The cocoon is not dead, or even sleeping, though it seems to be so. Under its silky cerements the butterfly is forming. Just as the plant The Resurrection Body. 329 in winter is collecting its forces from underground for a fresh shoot upward in spring, or the egg is developing into the chick, so the cocoon is really alive. In sleep, to use Delitzsch’s somewhat cabbalistic theory of the seven powers of life, the fifth, sixth, and seventh, which are the powers of sentient life, fall into inaction 5 while the other four classes of nutritive life continue in operation. Thus the sleep of the insect and of the human psyche is a life in death—it is only appaient death. Dissect the cocoon and examine it with the microscope, and the future butterfly may be detected, ^ the wings rolled up into a sort of cold aie lodged between the first and second segment of the caterpillar —the antennae and trunk are coiled up in front of the head, and the legs, however different their form, are actually sheathed in its legs.”* For aught we know to the contrary, the resurrection of a pneumatical body may spring out of the psyche-pneuma of the inter¬ mediate state, as the imago from the chrysalis. It is certainly incorrect and unscriptural to conceive of it as springing from the sarx or flesh which we lay in the grave. That appears to be like the skin or shell of the larva, a mere mask to hide the inner and higher life, and is shed in the grave, as insects and many reptiles shed their skin. The psyche-pneuma, which is the real life and individuality of man, then passes into Hades, as the cocoon into its winding sheet, but then either to rise again with a resurrection and immortal body, or not, according as it has put on Christ, and is quickened by His quickening Spirit or not. We have * Kirby and Spence’s Entomology, p. 36, new ed. 330 The Resurrection Body . only to repeat what we have said before, that Christ is onr life and our resurrection, and that the indwelling of the Spirit quickening our spirits is (Rom. viii. 11) the efficient as Christ is the meritorious cause of the quickening of our mortal bodies. That all are raised to be judged at the last day, but that all are not raised with pneumatical or immortal bodies seems to be a fair inference if we compare John v. 25-9 with 1 Cor. xv. The resurrection of damnation is distinctly declared, but it is not said that the wicked, whose bodies are sown in corruption, shall be raised in incorruption. It may be so, but the argument e silentio rather tells the other way, and instead of inferring, as many divines do, that because the saved shall be given immortal bodies the lost must also be immortalized— “ salted with fire,” as the expression is incorrectly ap¬ plied—we rather infer the contrary, and throw on the other side the onus probandi , that it must be so. When Scripture is not decisive between two theories surely it is wisdom to take the one which exhibits the character of God as most just and most merciful. u It doth not yet appear what we shall be.” This only is revealed. It is not told us whether many shall be saved or few, or whether any of the many who now are on the broad path which leadeth to destruction may not be saved—so as by fire, i. e ., in spite of and out of the burning of the last day. Our inquiries on this subject are critical only and not dogmatical. We under¬ take rather to point out where others have gone wrong, not to lay down what must be the right theory of the resurrection body. 33 1 The Resurrection Body. There are two ways of thinking on this subject the one mediaeval, the other modern, which seem to us to miss the mark in opposite extremes. The conception of the resurrection body which has come down from t le Fathers through the schoolmen, and is not abandoned yet, is, that the same sarx which is put into the grave is raised again at the morning of resurrection, notion, which led the Egyptians to resort to the prac¬ tice of embalming, took a new form m the Christian Church. As St Paul had treated the thought of the resurrection of the same identical particles as an ab¬ surdity, “Thou fool, that which thou sowest is not quickened except it die,” materialistic conceptions on this subject took a different direction. It was the burial , not the embalming of the body, which was now regarded as the point to be attended to. Hence the strong desire to be buried in holy ground,—earth, 1 possible, as in the case of the Campo Santa of Pisa, which was actually brought from Palestine. As the Tew desired to die in Jerusalem, to be near the place where the Messiah should touch the earth first on the Mount of Olives, so Christians thought of burial m crypts near the bones of martyrs and underneath the altar, where the miracle of the Incarnation m the host was daily repeated. The resurrection of the very particles put into the grave is the point insisted on y Tertullian against the Gnostics in his day, who allego¬ rised the resurrection away altogether. Tertullian s conception became the orthodox one. No other was known to the mediaeval Church. Her painters, who were the divines of the people, have expressed this m 33 2 d^he Resurrection Body . the coarsest and most theatrical form. To object to this view of the resurrection was to incur the suspicion of heresy. Even in modern times the resurrection of the flesh is often confounded with the resurrection of the body.* This arises from not distinguishing between sarx and soma. The resurrection of Christ (although His was not sinful flesh) was a resurrection, not a revival. So also must ours be. “Thou sowest not that body that shall be, but bare grain.” This is decisive on the subject, and whatever the change may be (on which we are as much in the dark as the man who sowed the first grain of wheat) it is certainly not the same par¬ ticles of matter which reappear, either in the wheat plant or the man. The other erroneous opinion in the opposite extreme is, that the spiritual body underlies the natural in our present state of being, and consequently that we have only to be magnetised in some way in order to be en rapport with the world of spirits, even while in the flesh, f This is the theory of Swedenborg, on which * It is true that the original of the creed is crapKbs avaaracnv, carnis resur- rectionem , and even in the Church of Aquileia hujus carnis resurrectionem , but Jerome accounts for this on account of some of the Gnostics saying that as there were bodies celestial air and light, the expression, the resurrection of the body, did not seem definite enough to meet their opinion.—See Pearson on the Creed, Art. XI. f “ The soul of man is his spiritual body. The body of flesh and blood is only half the human body. Another body underlies it. There is a natural body, the Apostle says, and there is a spiritual, and by this he plainly means a body altogether different from the natural, which is the material, or as Wiclif calls it, the “ beestlie ’’ body. Yet, by speaking of both in the present tense, saying of each that it now is, he gives us to understand that the two bodies are contemporaneous and co-existent, so long, that is, as the natural one may 333 The Resurrection Body. modern spiritualism has based its delusions. Error is endless, truth is only one—hence we see that the age in shaking off the cold materialism of the French school has fallen in with the fantastic spiritualism of Sweden¬ borg and others. From believing in neither angel nor spirit it has passed at a bound into the other extreme, and now is ready to say with the Apostle, but in a very different sense, “ there is a natural body, and there is a spiritual body.’' The Apostle adds, “ Howbeit that was not first which is spiritual, but that which is natural, and afterward that which is spiritual.” The first man is of the earth earthly, the second man is the Lord from heaven. The neo-spiritualists of our day quite overlook this important distinction. They represent the spiritual body as underlying the natural. Accord¬ ing to Swedenborg, man is an imperishable spiritual body, placed for a season in a perishable material body. The soul, the true man, is its own organised and spiritual body, and when it leaves the earthly house of flesh it enters at once on its resurrection and final state. The Swedenborgian universe, moreover, is divided into four orders of abodes. In the highest or celestial world are the heavens of the angels. In the lowest or infernal world are the hells of the demons. In the intermediate or spiritual world are the earths inhabited by men, and surrounded by the transition state through which souls departing from their bodies after a while endure. By adding that it is to be raised, he intimates that this spiritual body is the immortal portion of our being.” Hence, the writer goes on to argue that resurrection occurs (?) in each case at the moment of death.”—See Life and its Nature, by Leo Grindon, p. 146. 334 The Resurrection Body. soar to heaven, or sink to hell, according to their fit¬ ness and attraction. In this life man is free, because he is an energy, an equilibrium, between the influences of heaven and hell. The middle state surrounding man is full of spirits, some good and some bad. Everyman is accompanied by swarms of both classes of spirits con¬ tinually striving to make him like themselves. Fuither, there are two kinds of influx on man : mediate influx, which is when the spirits in the middle state flow in on man’s thoughts and affections—immediate influx is when the Lord, the pure Spirit of truth, flows into every organ and faculty of man. It is easy to see that American spiritualism is only this Swedenborgian theory carried out into details. Spirit-rapping, clairvoyance, and the theory of the medium to convey communications from departed spirits to those who are still in the body are addi¬ tions to Swedenborg’s theory, and additions for the worse. His own notion of immediate influx, or di¬ rect inspiration from God, though more extravagant, was in reality far less mischievous than the delusion of modern psychomancy. The root of all these errors seems to lie in the confusion between the intermediate and final state, as if the spiritual body lay under the natural in this present life. If we discard the mysti¬ cal language in which it wraps its meaning, Sweden¬ borgian spiritualism only amounts to this, that there is an immortal soul which is liberated at death, and lives then in the world of spirits, and perhaps leturns to visit this world, and holds communication with its inhabitants. It is thus only an old opinion under a new 335 The Resurrectioji Body. name. Swedenborg chose to call the soul a spiritual body or organism. His strange theory that every thing consists of a great number of perfect leasts like itself, every heart is an aggregation of little hearts, every lung is an aggregation of little lungs, every eye an aggregation of eyes, may have perhaps suggested that the soul in the same way is only the homuncule within the man. In this corpuscular theory of the soul it is easy to see that at death the soul or spiritual body survives. But this is not only a different truth from the Christian doctrine of the resurrection, it is directly opposed to it. We have seen how the Pla¬ tonic theory of the immortality of the soul is opposed to the Apostle’s teaching on this subject. This new Platonic theory of a spiritual body is quite as unlike the true doctrine of the resurrection A The Platonic theory is at least intelligible, but this latter is irra¬ tional as well as irreligious. It is an old device to * Man, according to this theory, is a series of forms, one within the other, and successively more perfect, skeleton, muscles, veins, nerves, each forms an Eidolon or mask, underneath which is the true or spiritual body. The true eikon basilike of mind is body. Hence, if you want to see what the soul is like, instead of taking a microscope or an essay on immortality, all we have to do is to contemplate the living, moving human figure in its ripeness and perfection. So Shelley of Ianthe— Sudden arose Ianthe’s soul, it stood All beautiful in naked purity, The perfect semblance of its bodily frame, Instinct with inexpressible beauty and grace. Each stain of earthliness Had passed away, it reassumed Its native dignity, and stood Immortal amid ruin. —See Life, its Nature, &c., by Leo Grindon. The Resurrection Body. vamp up worn-out theories under new names. When we profess to believe in the resurrection body, it is a poor evasion to be put off with the old-world belief in the ghost of the deceased, which is a kind of body in the mystical language of Swedenborg. The immortality of the thinking principle is one thing, the resurrection of an organism adapted to it is anothei thing. To confound the two together as modern spiritualists do is to make an alloy between Plato and Paul, and to pass off an old error under a new name. If this fantastic theory of a resurrection immediate on the moment of death were found only among the pro¬ fessed followers of Swedenborg, we might leave it as a singular error to die out of itself. But as it is creeping into favour among writers not inclined to agree with Swedenborg’s other opinions, and is by them put forward in apparent good faith, as their sense of the real meaning of the Apostle’s teaching,''' it is well to point out that it is only the Platonic doc¬ trine of man’s natural immortality disguised in a Chris¬ tian dress. A philosophical opinion is never so dan¬ gerous as when it uses Scriptural language, and passes off, under the form of sound words, conceptions of quite a different character. Thus, though it doth not yet appear what we shall be, we at least can gather from Scripture what the resurrection body will not be. It will not be the old body of flesh revived, which is the error of one ex¬ treme_it will not be the soul liberated at the moment * See Leo Gnndon. The Resurrection Body. 337 of death, and becoming thus a spiritual body, which is the error of the other extreme. Flesh and blood, we are told on the one hand, can- not inherit the kingdom of God ; on the other hand, the apostle’s teaching is, that this body of corruption is the buried genii or seed of a resurrection body. The one opinion makes too much of the remains we lay in the grave; the other makes too little of them. To the one they are the base materials of the resur¬ rection body, to be transmuted into precious at the last day ; to the other they are mere exuvim, like the celts, bones, and hatchet-heads of the world’s abori¬ gines, to be set in museums hereafter, as relics of a past and lower stage of being. We reject both these theories, the mediaeval and the modern, as equally un- scriptural. The one reduces the resurrection to be a mere revival of the body that once was; the other destroys the significance of death as the wages of sin. Scripture declares both that we are to be unclothed, and again clothed upon. If the nature of the un¬ clothed state is mysterious, much more may we expect to feel in the dark as to what the clothing upon must mean. If we cannot conceive of spiritual existence out of the body, much more difficult it is to conjec¬ ture what the resurrection from the dead can mean. If we cannot see into hades, much less into heaven itself. If the intermediate state is involved in obscu¬ rity, much more the final. Yet the analogy of the butterfly comes to our help, as far as negative conceptions go. We look in vain among the higher forms of animal life for an organism Y I 338 The Resurrection Body ♦ endowed with the excito-motor system, without the nutritive. In all cases, the fable of the belly and the members is the rule of animal life. Organs of motion, of prehension, even of voice, are all given that the creature may find its food, or capture its prey, as the case may be. The lion roars because excited by hun¬ ger, and perhaps all other animals utter their cries under similar conditions—to call their mates, or to warn of danger. The beak of a bird is so adapted for the food it consumes, that an ornithologist can either construct the beak from knowing the food, or describe the food from having seen the beak. In all vertebrates, up to and including man, the intestinal canal is the centre of life, and all its other organs, wings, legs, claws, beak, are but instruments to assist it in finding and securing its food. But in the case of man we find a class of organs capable of higher uses. The human hand, for instance, is such an organ. It helps us to carry food to the mouth, but this is the least and basest of its uses. Man would indeed be only an improved ape, if this were all which the hand could do. It can handle the pen of the ready writer, and the brush of the painter—it can touch the chords of the harp or organ, and so discourse most exquisite music. Even the sensualist school allow that the human hand is that which differentiates between man and the monkey. But they fell into the old post hoc propter hoc fallacy, and held that because the hand is an instrument of thought, that it produces thought. It is the mind within which makes the hand what it is, not the hand which makes-the mind. Our right hand would soon 339 The Resurrection Body . forget its cunning, if the brain did not think for it. Handicraft is the earliest manifestation of mind, but the mind itself is older than that which it produces. That which we have said of the hand is true of other organs of the body—the voice in particular. These are not essential to the nutritive life, as such. The higher powers of the eye, the ear, and the touch, and the smelling (of which taste is only a variety, serving a temporary purpose) are less animal than intellectual. They are the organs of an intelligent being, and if that being is to enjoy a life hereafter, and to be placed in the midst of the works of God, to see, hear, and understand them, then it seems to be required, from the nature of the case, that he should be given back these organs, only purified, elevated, and the residuum of what is animal strained off from them. The eye, for instance, is a perfect optical instrument, designed to disclose to us the wonders of creation, not to be used as an occasion to the flesh, or for the mere lust of the eye. The ear, again, is adapted to catch divine harmonies, not to drink in slanders and the distilled poison of wicked or voluptuous speech. The tongue and voice will be given to bless God, and not to curse men, who are made in the image of God. ' The proper use of the hand is not to reach forth to violence, but to touch the harp, to weigh and test the properties of bodies, and to serve as a general instrument of intelli¬ gence. But what analogy have we in nature for organs thus etherealised and purified from the dross of mere animalism? None in the higher forms of life: the 340 The Resurrection Body. vertebrate kingdom teaches us only this lesson, “Meats for the belly and the belly for meats, and God will destroy both it and them.” But when we descend to the insect, we find, to our surprise, a transformation which not only suggests the possibility that death is only sleep, but also suggests the mode by which organs which serve the nutritive life now may be elevated into exclusively sensitive and percipient oigans by and by. The grub is, as its name implies, that which is grob or gross—that buries itself ( graben , hence the word grave) in the carcase, as Australian savages are said to do in that of a whale cast ashore, and gorge themselves there till, sickened with their disgusting meal of rancid blubber, they lie down and sleep off its effects. In the grub state the insect’s nutritive life is the all, and there are no limbs at all, or the fewest possible. An enormous pair of jaws, no wings, feet only adapted to crawl slowly from one part of the leaf, when gnawed, to the other—this is the insect in its lowest stage of being. But what a contrast when the larva passes into the imago. The jaws are now replaced by a delicate proboscis, with which it but sips of a sweet, and then flies to the rest. It is a beautiful winged creature, full of eyes, for in its rapid flights it needs quick powers of perception. Its powers of mo¬ tion are as great as its appetite for food once was. There is now the maximum of sentient with the mini¬ mum of the nutritive life, as before in the grub. state it was the converse. That the provision in the insect is with a view to the reproduction of its kind does not in the least mar the justness of the analogy; for each The Resurrection Body. 341 insect, as an individual, passes through three stages— one of nutritive life only; another of coma, in which the nutritive organs die and the sentient are developed ; and a third, of sentient life in its highest degree. Man, too, is intended to pass through three such stages; but the last in his case is to be the final one. Whether it would be so but for the incarnation and continued humanity of Christ may fairly admit of question. But Christ having linked his nature to ours, the transfor¬ mation of the natural into a spiritual body will be the final one. With the resurrection body made like unto his glorious body, we not only die no more, death hath no more dominion over us, but we shall be tempted no more. At the second death, death and hell are cast into the lake of fire; the devil and his angels are there consigned to chains of darkness for ever. And so as there is no place found for the repentance of the incorrigibly wicked, so there is no place found for the temptation of the glorified saints. Thus on the distinction between sentient and nutritive life we ground our conception of the nature of the resur¬ rection body. It is the scriptural distinction between