ti tip aHiroIogi ra/ PRINCETON, N. J. W pHEEVERS WANDERINGS OF A PILGRIM, IN THE SHA- ^ DOW OF MONT BLANC, AND THE JUNGFRAU ALP. ICK'S PHILOSOPHY OF. RELIGION; or, an Illustration of the Moral Laws of the Universe. , To be followed by other Popular Works. Each Volume will contain between 300 and 400 pages, with a Steel Engraving, and for the convenience of all Classes will be issued as follow : /Sewed in a handsome Wrapper, ls^-Gd., or bound in Cloth, 2s. Also, a Royal 12mo Edition bound in Cloth, 3s. per Volume. CONTENTS. Introduction by the Translator, I. Religions of Man and the Religion of God, II. The Mysteries of Christianity, . III. TnE Gospel comprehended by the Heart, IV. Folly of the Truth, .... V. TnE Genius of the Gospel, VI. Natural Faith, VII. Christian Faith, VIII. Atheism of the Ephesians, . IX. Grace and Law, X. Man Deprived of all Glory, XI. Same Subject continued, XII. The Principle of Christian Morality, XIII. Necessity of becoming Children, XIV. Claims of Heaven and Earth adjusted, XV. The Pursuit of Human Glory, XVI. The Power of the Feeble, . XVII. TnE Intolerance of the Gospel, XVIII. The Tolerance oe TnE Gospel, XIX. TnE Work of God, . XX. Same Subject continued, XXI. Christian Joy, XXII. Peace in Heaven, XXIII. The Box of Ointment, XXIV. The Samaritan, . PAGE 7 33 44 54 G3 77 90 100 109 118 129 138 155 16G 176 189 201 210 218 228 243 270 286 294 308 INTRODUCTION. THE attention of the translator was first called to the writings of Vinet by Dr. Merle D'Aubigne, the well known author of the ' History of the Reformation.' Having, in the course of con- versation, asked him concerning the published discourses of the most distinguished preachers in France and Switzerland, he par- ticularly recommended those of Vinet, speaking of him as the Chalmers of Switzerland. He referred also to the work which he had recent* published on the ' Profession of Religious Convictions, and the Union of Church and State,' as having produced a very great sensation in that part of the world. He admitted that Vinet differed from Chalmers in some respects, but intimated that he possessed a more profoundly philosophical spirit. Every one fa- miliar with the writings of both men will readily allow that they resemble each other in breadth and energy of mind, originality of conception, and splendour of diction. Chalmers, we think, has more of energy and passion, but less of philosophical acumen and delicacy of perception ; more of oratorical force and affluence of imagery, but less of real beauty, perspicacity, and power of argument. His discourses resemble mountain torrents, dashing in strength and beauty, amid rocks and woods, carrying every thing before them, and gathering force as they leap and foam from point to point, in their progress to the sea. Vinet's, on the other hand, are like deep and beautiful rivers, passing with calm but irresisti- ble majesty through rich and varied scenery ; now gliding around the base of some lofty mountain, then sweeping through meadows and corn-fields, anon reflecting in their placid bosom sonic old castle or vine-covered hill, taking villages and cities in their course, and bearing the commerce and population of the neigh- bouring countries on their deepening and expanding tide. The diction of Chalmers is strikingly energetic, but somewhat rugged and involved, occasionally, too, rather unfinished and clumsy. Vinet's is pure and classical, pellucid as one of his own mountain lakes, and yet remarkably energetic and free. / VIII lXTKOPUCTiOX. Anotlicr thing in which they differ has reference to the mode in which they develope a Bubject. Chalmers grasps one or two great conceptions, and expands them into a thousand beautiful and striking forms. His great power lies in making luminous and im- ?sive the single point upon which he would fix his reader's attention, running it, like a thread of gold, through the web of his varied and exhanstless imagery. Vinct penetrates into the heart of bis Bubject, analyzes it with care, lays it open to inspection, advances from one point to another, adds thought to thought, illustration to illustration, till it becomes clear and familiar to the mind of the reader. His intellect is distinguished as much by its logical acumen as by its powers of illustration and orna- ment. He seldom repeats his thoughts in the same discourse, and rarely fails in clearness of conception and arrangement. Chalmers delights and persuades by the grandeur of his ideas, and the fervour of his language, but he adds little to the stock of our information. He abounds in repetitions, aud is not unfrequently confused in his arrangement, and somewhat negligent in his state- ments. Though eloquent and powerful, his discourses are not remarkably instructive. But this is not the case with those of Vinet. AVhile they charm by their beauty, and convince by their persuasive power, they abound in original views, and lead the mind into fresh channels of reflection and feeling. AVhile one is satisfied with reading the productions of the great Scottish divine once or twice, he recurs again and again to those of his Swiss com- peer. They abound in "the seeds of things," and possess a re- markable power to quicken and expand the mind. On this account they ought to be read, or rather studied, slowly and deliberately. Like the works of John Howe, which Hobert Hall was accustomed to read BO frequently, they will repay many perusals. Both of these distinguished men are truly evangelical in their theological views; they develope with equal power the peculiar :ines of the Gospel, and in their several spheres have done much to promote evangelical religion among the higher and more JOCiety. Both have laid their great literary and Dtific attainments under contribution to illustrate and adorn the religion of the CrOSS, and have devoted much time aud attention to those great moral and politico-ecclesiastical questions which at ]. resent are agitating the whole Christian world. On most of these . the views of Vinet are more thorough and consistent, and INTRODUCTION. \± aim at a complete separation of the Church from the State ; a re- sult, however, to which Chalmers has come in practice, and which he will, unquestionably yet reach even in theory. They are alike in this, — that both of them are possessed of great simplicity and earnestness of character. Both are men of genius, and men of God. As a writer, Vinet leads the movement in Switzerland and France against formalism and scepticism in the church, and particularly against the union of Church and State. Chalmers is doing the same, at least by means of action, in Scotland and England. Both of them have been professors in the colleges of their native lands ; both have seceded from the national church, and yet occupy im- portant places as theological teachers. They have written largely and successfully on the subject of moral science, in connection with Christianity, and have been called, by their published discourses especially, to address men of high station and cultivated minds. It is but justice to say that Chalmers, as a preacher, is probably more popular than Vinet, and that his writings thus far have secured a wider circulation. This, however, will not, in our judg- ment, be the case permanently. Vinet must become popular, if not with the mass, yet with the thoughtful and cultivated, wherever he is known. His reputation in Switzerland and France is very high ; he is also well known and highly esteemed in Germany, where his discourses and other writings have been translated and read with much interest. His great work, ' Sur la Manifestation des Con- victions Eeligieuses, et sur la Separation de VEglise de VEtat,' 1 " written," says one of our leading Reviews, " with great ability and eloquence," has been translated into German and English ; in the one case by Dr. Volkmann, in the other by Charles Theodore Jones, and has attracted much attention, particularly in Germany, where the way was prepared for its reception by the two works of Dr. Rettig, 1 and pastor Wolff, 2 on the same subject. It has exerted a great and obvious influence on the mind of count Gasparin, mem- ber of the Chamber of Deputies in France, whose writings on the subject of religious liberty are destined, we think, to produce the most salutary results. Indeed, this work of Vinet is universally admired on the continent of Europe, except perhaps by some of the friends of the alliance of Church and State. The great number of reviews am. replies it has called out is a striking proof of its 1 Die Freie Protestantischen Kirche Giessen, 1832. 2 Zukunft der Protestantischen Kirche in Deutschland, 1838. X INTRODUCTION. value. We are apprehensive, however, that the English version gives but an inadequate conception of its force and eloquence. It seems to us wanting in freedom and elasticity. Faithful and labo- rious it undoubtedly is, but it does not reach the strength and beauty of the original. As a writer, Vinet has many qualities akin to those of John Fos- ter, one of the most powerful thinkers and vigorous writers England has ever produced. He has the same earnest and contemplative spirit ; the same freshness and originality of thought ; the same beauty and strength of diction, with more of ease and gracefulness of expression. The thoughts of Foster, to borrow a figure of Ro- bert Hall, are presented to us in the shape of large and brilliant masses of bullion. Yinet's are wrought into beautiful and elegant forms. Merle D'Aubigne, Gaussen, and Vinet in Switzerland, the two Monods, Grandpierre, Audubez and Gasparin in France, are the leaders of a noble host of ministers and laymen, who are devoting themselves, with great strength and ardour, to the regeneration of the church of Christ in continental Europe. Some of them are dealing heavy blows against the Papal church, as well as against all formal and secular systems of religion. They breathe the spirit of Christian love and freedom, and are evidently destined to accom- . plish great and lasting good for the cause of Christ. Indeed they seem to be the pioneers of a new reformation in the Helvetic and French churches ; on which account their writings ought to possess a peculiar interest to the people of this country, to those of them at least who have consecrated themselves to the cause of God and of human liberty. God bless and aid them in their noble and self- denying labours ! Of the distinguished men who are engaged in this second refor- mation, Dr. Merle D'Aubigne and Dr. Alexander Vinet are mani- festly the master spirits, the one as a historian of great research and unrivalled dramatic and descriptive power, the other as a deep philosophical thinker, an able controversialist, and an eloquent preacher. They are intimate friends, living some fifty miles from each other, on the banks of the same beautiful lake, the one at La Graveline, just beyond the walls of Geneva, and the other at Lau- sanne, situated on high ground, ascending about half a mile from the lake, and overlooking the whole extent of that splendid sheet of water. Between these two places easy and constant intercourse is INTRODUCTION. xi enjoyed by ineans of small and rapid steamers, which are constantly plying on the lake. Dr. Merle differs from Vinet on one or two theo- logical points, as he himself has informed me, in a brief communica- tion recently received, but the difference is slight, and in my humble judgment in favour of the latter. He objects to the view given by Vinet on the subject of faith, in his two essays on the Work of God, which appear to me to be not only interesting and striking, but remarkably just and scriptural. For, if the affections have any thing to do, in the act of faith, if faith is more than an assent of the mind, or a mere intellectual reception of the truth, then is it a ivork demanding the whole energy of our spiritual and moral natures. " With the heart man believeth unto righteousness ;" he cannot therefore be j ustified without a right state of the affections. ' l Strive to enter in at the strait gate," says our Saviour ; and this striving has reference as much to the exercise of faith as to the performance of external duties. The reception of moral truths cannot even take place in a passive state of the mind. It is never more active or energetic than when seizing or embracing the mighty facts and doctrines of the Gospel, w T hich are fitted alike to quicken the intellect and transform the heart. This work of faith, it is true, differs essentially from those works of the law by which no man can be justified. It implies no merit, and cannot therefore be the procuring cause or the basis of our acceptance before God. Still it is a moral pre-requisite, without which it is impossible to please God. It receives the truth " in the love of it," cleaves to it as its portion, and works it up into the whole texture of its spiritual and immortal nature. On this subject some of the Swiss and French evangelical preachers cherish, we fear, imperfect and erro- neous notions. Even Luther, and some of the early reformers, had somewhat narrow and exaggerated views of faith, and did not sufficiently dwell on its relation to moral character. Edwards, in his book on the Affections, has set the matter in its true light ; and we are pleased to see so profound a thinker as Vinet urging essentially the same principles as those of the great American metaphysician and divine. The following are the principal events in the life of our author, so far as we have been able to ascertain them. Alexander Vinet was born 17th June, 1797, in Lausanne, capi- il of the canton Vaud, Switzerland, certainly one of the most dutiful cities in the world, lying as it does upon the high and Xll INTRODUCTION. sloping bank of lake Leman, or the lake of Geneva, as already stated ; adorned with squares and gardens, fine edifices, and de- lightful promenades ; in sight also of the high Alps, with their snow- clad peaks, and in the neighbourhood of Vevay, Chillon, Ville- neuve, and other places of classic and romantic interest ; at one time the residence of Beza, and the chosen dwelling-place of Gib- bon, the historian of Rome. An academy of considerable celebrity has existed here since 153G, which in 1806 was elevated into an Academic Institute (what in this country would perhaps be called a university), with fourteen professors and a rector. It was also re-organized in 1838, and separated, if I mistake not, from all im- mediate connection with the national church. From its origin, Lau- sanne has been distinguished for its high literary culture, its refined and agreeable society. It is the residence of many foreigners. Destined to the ministry by his father, who regarded the clerical profession as the most desirable and honourable of all, Vinet was placed at the academy of his native city, and pursued the ordinary course of studies, occupied, however, more with literature than the- ology. Fortunately, his mind was attracted, at an early period, to the study of moral science, for which he possessed a decided genius, and which exerted a very favourable influence, not only upon his theological enquiries but upon his religious character. At the age of twenty, two years before the legal termination of his studies, he accepted a place as professor of the French language and literature, in the Establishment of Public Instruction or Uni- versity, at Basle, capital of the canton of that name, a fine old city on the banks of the Rhine, distinguished for its cathedral and university, once the residence of (Ecolampadius, the friend of Zu- inglius, and one of the most eloquent preachers of the Reforma- tion, and also the burial-place of the celebrated Erasmus. Such an appointment is an incontestable evidence of the superiority of Vinct's talents, and the high reputation for scholarship he had ac- quired even at that early period of his life. He made a sojourn in Lausanne, in 1819, in order to submit to the requisite examina- tions, and receive ordination as a minister of the Gospel. He re- turned to Lasle, and continued there till 1837, as professor of the French language and literature. It was during his residence in this * place that lie published the most of his earlier writings, and esta-' 1 blished his reputation as a preacher. In 1830, he published tw<°f discourses. Hie one on the Intolerance of the Gospel, the other on th * s INTRODUCTION, mi Tolerance of the Gospel, which attracted great attention. They were prefaced in themfollowing style, furnishing a beautiful specimen of the simplicity and modesty of his character. " Persons advanced in Christian knowledge will find, we fear, little nutriment in these discourses. JSTor is it to them we have felt ourselves called to speak ; it would better become us to hear them. We have for- bidden our words to transcend the limits of our personal emotions ; an artificial heat would not be salutary. Nevertheless we hope that to many persons we have spoken a word in season ; and we cast it into the world, commending it to the Divine blessing, which can make some fruits of holiness and peace to spring from it, for the edification of the Christian church." In this brief preface a peculiarity of all our author's productions, and especially of his discourses, reveals itself. They are " born, not made," originated, not manufactured. His soul has never been cast into any artificial mould. It has great clearness, elasticity, and strength. He is therefore entirely free from hackneyed phrases and stereotyped modes of thought. His discourses are drawn fresh from his own profound spirit. While perusing them you feel as if you were listening, not to the mere preacher, but to the deep thinker and the man of God. He never transcends the limits of his own personal experience ; but that being the experience at once of a great and a good man, it possesses a peculiar warmth and beauty. " One must breathe the spirit," says Pindar, " before he can speak." — " Out of the abundance of lie heart the mouth speaketh," is the testimony of Jesus Christ. Our author, we think, understands this, and hence approaches as near as possible to the model which John Foster has in his mind, when he insists so strongly on the necessity, in evangelical writings, of naturalness and entire freedom from cant. Indeed Vinet distinctly acknow- ledges the great importance of this quality, and urges the same views as those of Foster's Essay on the Aversion of Men of Taste to Evangelical Religion. In the introduction to the volume from which we have derived the greater part of the discourses which bllow, he says ; — " Feeble, I address myself to the feeble. I give > them the milk which has nourished myself. When some of us come stronger than the rest, we will together demand the bread l .he strong. But I have thought that those who are at the com- .cement of their course need some one who, placing himself in • point of view should speak to them less as a preacher than XIV INTRODUCTION. as a man who precedes them by scarcely a single step, and who is anxious to turn to their account the little advance he has made upon them. " It is perhaps desirable that every one, according to the mea- sure of knowledge which has been given him, should labour for the evangelization of the world. In the number of those whom I may be permitted to call candidates of the truth, there are perhaps some souls that are particularly attracted by the kind of preaching I have employed, and employed without choice ; for I could not choose it. I sny perhaps, and nothing more; but what I affirm with more confidence is, that it is important that each one should show himself such as he is, and not affect gifts he has not received. 11 1 believe I am not mistaken in saying that among those who speak or write on divine things there is an exaggerated craving for uniformity. I know indeed that community of convictions and hopes, the habit of deriving instruction from the same sources, the intimate nature of the relations that subsist in Christian society, must have produced, as their result, a unity of thoughts, of intel- lectual habits, and even, to a certain extent, of expression ; but while we ought to admire this unity when it is produced, we ought to make no effort to produce it. The generous freedom of Christi- anity is repugnant to that timid deference for a conventional lan- guage and a vain orthodoxy of tone and style ; nor does sincerity permit us to adopt, as an expression of our individuality, a com- mon type, the imprint of which is always, in some degree, foreign to us ; the interests of our religious development demands that we should not conceal from ourselves our real condition ; and nothing would be more fitted to conceal it from ourselves than the invol- untary habit of disguising it to others. In fine, the beauty of the evangelical work, and even unity itself, demand that each nature should manifest itself with its own characteristics. Confidence is felt in unity, when it produces itself under an aspect of variety ; community of principle is rendered more striking by diversity of forms ; while uniformity, being necessarily artificial, is always more or less suspected, and involuntarily suggests the idea of constraint or dissimulation." It was probably in Basle th at Vinct formed those decidedly spiri- tual views of religion so clearly developed in all his discourses and other writings. In this place, an evangelical influence, in greater or less degree, has existed ever since the time of the Reformation. INTRODUCTION. IV The labours of (Ecolampadius, whom the good people of the city- were accustomed to call their bishop, the occasional presence and preaching of the great Swiss Reformer, Zuinglius, the decided piety and activity of several of their most distinguished pastors and preachers in subsequent times, and more recently the prevalence of a noble missionary spirit, have conspired to impress an evangelical character upon the place. It has of course suffered, like all other cities in Switzerland and Germany, from the prevalence of ration- alism, formalism, and infidelity; still the fire of divine love has continued to burn upon its altars, with a pure, and we hope, bright- ening flame. The following extract from a historical sketch of the Basle Missionary Society, written by one of its members, will give some idea of the kind of influence prevalent there. "Scarcely has a missionary or other religious German society been favoured with a body of directors richer in Christian graces and spiritual gifts than those men who gave one another the right hand of fellowship for the establishment of a missionary in- stitution at Basle in 1816. "The twelve members of the Committee residing at Basle were clergymen and laymen belonging to different German and Swiss churches : namely, to the Reformed church of Basle, the Lutheran church of AVurtemburg, and the Union of the Moravian brethren. Yet never in these twenty-four years has the bond of peace been broken on account of dogmatical differences. Loving and serving one Lord, they have been one in his Spirit. The president of the committee for twenty-two years was one of the fathers of the Basle Reformed church, the secretary one of the most enterprising Chris- tians of the south of Germany, the originator, or co-originator of many of the Christian institutions which have sprang up in the neighbourhood of Basle, since the beginning of this century; the treasurer, one of the members of the Senate of Basle, and head of one of the greatest mercantile houses of the city ; the principal of the college, down to the end of the year 1838, the Rev. C. G. Blumhardt. The memory of these chief men among the Lord's people in our country, and their worthy associates, will ever be dear to the hearts of all the brethren of our mission. Dear father Yon Brunn, the senior of the Basle clergy, retired in 1838 from the chair of the president. He is still alive, a venerable octogenarian, waiting in a child-like spirit for his entrance into his eternal home, lie was a man mighty in the Scriptures, and mighty in prayer, XVI INTRODUCTION. powerful in love, and skilful in comforting the troubled and heavy- laden, lie was, as the head of another Swiss church called him, the high-priest of the mission. May his end be peace and his re- ward glory! The Rev. C. Blumhardt, who departed in December 1838, was a man especially prepared, as it would seem, by the Lord, fur the difficult task of conducting the first German mission- ary institution of this century, through a generation careless of religion, opposed to vital godliness in every form, and scornful of every undertaking originating with the superstitious, bigoted, and narrow-minded pietists. When he died he left the mission and the college flourishing, gaining ground in public esteem and confidence, and prepared for more extended action, and for the contemplation of enterprises of which it would have appeared adventurous so much as to dream during an earlier period of the mission." 1 In 1836, Vinet published, in Paris, his l Discours sur quelqucs Sujets ReligieuxJ and some time after his i Xouveaux Discourse which have passed through several editions, and attracted univer- sal admiration. It is from these two works we have selected the contents of our volume, under the head of Vital Christianity., or Essays and Discourses on the Religions of Man and the Religion of God. On the whole we have decided to give to some of these compositions the title of Essays, rather than of Discourses or Ser- mons, because they are not all sermons in our use of the term. Some of them were never preached, and not even written for the pulpit, though designed for a public assembly, before which they were read. Hence they are at once philosophical and practical, didactic and oratorical. To a great extent they combine all the advantages of the lecture and the oration, the dissertation and the sermon. The author has himself referred to this circumstance, expressing his apprehension that it may be regarded as a defect, and states, in his second volume, that if divested of certain forms of expression, the discourses of that volume might be called studies rather than sermons. They arc addressed, as we shall presently see, to a particular class of persons, and have a style of their own, although well adapted to be useful to all who may read them. They develope what the anther styles the Religion of God, and contain one of the ablest and most philosophical defences of evangelical Christianity. They abound in acute and cogent rea- 1 Am. Baptist Magazine, voL \xiv, p. 301. INTRODUCTION. XVII soiling, as well as splendid illustration. Their logic is as striking as their oratory. 1 In 1837, his native canton tendered Vinet an invitation to suc- ceed the professor of Theology, in the academy or college of Lau- sanne, who, in consequence of age, had resigned his place. This appointment was confirmed at the re-organization of the academy in 1838. Two years after he resigned his title as one of the na- tional clergy, being unwilling to adhere, even by implication, to the principles of the new ecclesiastical law, which, as Vinet himself says, in a letter to the writer, places the Church in the hands of the State, and makes the ministers judges of each other's doctrines, after having abolished all rule or system of theological instruction. But the people, with whom Vinet is highly popular, insisted on his retaining his professorship ; and thus having, in 1838, ceased to be connected with the ecclesiastical establishment, he felt that he could conscientiously discharge its duties. He occupies this sta- tion at the present time, revered and loved by all who can appre- ciate talent united with moral excellence. Vinet has suffered some persecution for his enthusiastic adherence to the cause of religious liberty. He was the subject, at one time, of a civil prosecution, on account of certain expressions in one of his writings, supposed, by the authorities of the Vaudois govern- ment, to be seditious, or at least dangerous in their tendency. No judgment, however, was rendered against him. It was the occasion of his publishing an Essay on ■ Conscience and Religious Liberty,' the most of which is occupied with a personal defence. We per- ceive by an extract from the Semeur, a religious periodical publish- ed in Paris, and circulated in France and Switzerland, that a de- cided movement has been made in the cantons of Vaud and Geneva in favour of the voluntary support of religious institutions, a result to which the writings of Vinet have greatly contributed. "French i That we have not overrated Vinet may be seen from the following ex- tract of a letter by the able correspondent of the New York Observer, M. G. de Felice, Professor in the Theological Seminary at Montauban in France. Speaking of his work on Church and State, he says : " It is a volume of 500 pages in 8vo whioh bears the impress of the author's mind. M. Vinet is fond of philosophical subjects, and discusses them in a masterly manner. What would embarrass others has no difficulty for him. He is naturally profound and lofty, and can pursue his thoughts to the remotest abstractions. lie is a theoretical rather than a practical man ; he dwells constantly in the regions of pure thought, in which he freely displays the full force and extent of his mind. 7 B XV111 INTRODUCTION. Switzerland," says the London Patriot, "has been occupied for some time with discussion. The ecclesiastical law of the canton Vaud; the recent revolution at Geneva; the efforts of the minority in Neufchatel to obtain their political rights ; the affair in the con- vents in Argovia, and the civil conflicts in the Valais, have render- ed it necessary to investigate, in the names of religion and philo- sophy, the question of religious independence. It appears the mo- ment has arrived to take more public measures." A convention on the subject has been held in the city of Lausanne, the result of which we have not yet learned, but it cannot fail to exert a favour- able influence on the cause of religious freedom. 1 The publications of our author are pretty voluminous, compris- ing some ten or twelve volumes, with many fugitive pieces, pub- lished in the Semeur and other periodicals. Some of these are prize essays, couronne, crowned, as the expression is, by the Soci- ety of Christian Morals. Nearly all of them have been translated into German, and have passed through several editions. His pro- ductions on the subject of Christian morals are exceedingly valu- 1 While the above was going through the press, a letter, published in the New York Observer, from M. G. de Felice, gives the following information relative to the meeting referred to : — " The meeting was numerous ; members came from several cities of French Switzerland. After long deliberations, the four following articles were adopted : " ' I. They declare that they desire to act only in a manner conformed to the word of God. Hence, in order to render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar's, they recognize that it is their duty to obey the magistrate in all that is not contrary to the word of God. They will employ, therefore, to obtain the object they propose, only such means as are conformed to this word. And in order to render unto God the things that are God's they consider that they are under obligation to do all in their power for the ad- vancement of the kingdom of God, namely, for the triumph of the doctrines of the faith, for purity of worship and morals; and it is for this end that they are met. " 'II. Tiny believe that God forbids alike to Church and State all claim to Interfere, m such, in one another's domains. "' III. One of the characteristic doctrines of the Scriptures is, in their view, that religious acts are not agreeable to God, unless they are voluntary and spontaneous; '" IV. They think that it is at once the duty and the precious privilege (•f Christian churches to govern themselves, according to the word of God, only, tinder the direction of, the Holy Spirit, and under the supreme au- thority of Jesus Christ, th'- so].- Head of the Church.' " It is also announced, that a Society is about to be formed in French Switzerland for the promotion and advancement of the voluntary system. Time will show what hold this work has on public sentiment." INTRODUCTION, X\X able, and indeed all of them abound in original and beautiful thoughts, and breathe an enlarged spirit Of Christian love and zeal. The Essays and Discourses we have translated are addressed particularly to that large class of cultivated minds who have some prepossessions in favour of Christianity, but who, from the influence of latent scepticism, do not yield their hearts to its direct and all- controlling influence. This circumstance, as already suggested, stamps upon them a peculiar character. It has rendered them at once profound and practical. But it has also given rise to some inconvenience in the use of words, as the author himself acknow- ledges. For example, the words reason, nature, life, are occasion- ally used in their strict and philosophical sense, then again in their more loose and general import. At one time, reason is com- mended and exalted as the gift of God, and the criterion of truth ; at another, it is contemned and rejected as as impostor and a cheat. In the one case, he evidently refers to reason legitimate and true, occupying its own sphere, and performing its proper work ; in the other, to reason perverted and false, transcending the limits which God has assigned it, assuming extravagant pretensions, and tramp- ling upon the plainest principles of science and revelation. Indeed, as the author suggests, the word in these instances is used in two different senses. " So far as the words nature and reason desig- nate that foundation of moral and intellectual truth which wc carry within us, those universal and immutable principles to which all systems appeal, which are admitted in the most opposite theo- ries, and on the common ground of which opponents the most de- cided are compelled to re-unite, at least for a moment, nature and reason merit the homage I have rendered them ; for if, in my dis- cussions, I had not set out from this given point, whence could I set out? But so far as reason and nature, instead of receiving the light of God, instead of appealing to it, and using its rays to illu- minate their pathway, pretend to create that light, or to speak more exactly, so far as it is pretended, in the name of nature and reason, which disavow such an undertaking, to communicate to man an illumination and a power which must come from on high, I erect myself against that abuse. And if, in conformity to a usage more oratorical than philosophical, I designate that abuse by the name of those powers which give occasion for it, if I call nature and reason those pretensions which are raised in the name of na- :. X INTRODUCTION. ture aud reason, 1 confide in the attention and good faith of my readers, without concealing what the severity of philosophical language might demand from me." With this explanation, every intelligent reader will make the distinctions clearly indicated by the spirit and scope of the author's reasoning. " Philosophers and men of the world," says Vinet, in the intro- duction to the first volume of his discourses, " invite us, in some sense, to meet them ; having lingered long in the precincts of phi- losophy, they approach towards the sanctuary. The secret of life, its final word, is demanded frorn all quarters ; and should we who know that final word be avaricious of it; should we refuse to speak it, because we must speak it to philosophers in a language less familiar to us than to them ? That word is of all languages ; it is susceptible of all forms ; it has a thousand different expressions ; for it is found at the termination of all questions, at the close of all discussions, at the summit of all ideas. Long or short, direct or indirect, every road is true that conducts to the foot of the cross." The author, however, modestly disclaims all pretension of " preaching Christ in the Areopagus, or entering the lists with the doctors," — but adds, that he had involuntarily turned towards I " that numerous class of cultivated men, who, educated in the bo- som of Christendom, and imbued, if the expression may be allowed, with Christian prepossessions, feebly struggle either against their own heart, frightened by the solemn aspect of Christianity, or against that too general impression, that Christianity, so necessary, Iso beautiful, so consoling, cannot be justified in the eyes of reason." As to the first difficulty, he proceeds to say, * k The Christian writer will not consider it his duty to remove it by abstracting any thing from the serious character of the Gospel. On the contrary, he is gratified to find this prepossession established ; it is one error less to eradicate. The fear which the Gospel has produced is a commencement of adhesion. It is this very seriousness which the minister of the Gospel ought to cultivate to maturity. As to the second difficulty, which turns," says he, "on the old opposition be- l ween faith and reason," he makes the following admirable remarks. " He who speaks of revealed religion, speaks of a system which reason cannot discover; because it is necessary that God himself should communicate it to us, by supernatural means. The Chris- tian, then, rejects reason, so far as it professes to produce or create the truth, he docs, in his sphere, what the true philosopher does in INTRODUCTION. XXI his ; for the latter admits, by virtue of an internal revelation, facts for the discovery of which reason is of no use. The philosopher lias not to demonstrate, a priori, the facts of internal revelation, a revelation without antecedents, and anterior to all other acquisi- tions. The theologian, on his part, recognizes, in revealed facts, an acquisition superior to all acquisitions ; he no longer proves these. facts, for to prove them would be to create them. By acting thus, he does not deny reason ; on the contrary, he makes use of it. And this is the place to observe, that reason, that is to say, the nature of things, in whatever point of view we place ourselves, will always be to us the criterion of truth and the basis of faith. The truth without us must always be measured and compared with the truth within us : with that intellectual conscience which, as well as the moral conscience, is invested with sovereignty, gives judgments, knows remorse ; with those irresistible axioms which we cany within us, which form a part of our nature, and are the support and groundwork of all our thoughts ; — in a word, with reason. In this sense, every doctrine is held to be reasonable ; which, however, is not to say that every doctrine is held to be accessible to reason ; nothing hinders it from receiving that which surpasses it. More- over, beyond this inviolable limit, the theologian finds space and employment for his reason ; he even applies it, in two different ways, to the facts of the supernatural revelation he announces. First of all, he developes the proofs of the authenticity of such a revelation ; then he applies himself to prove its necessity, as well as its harmony, with the immutable nature of the human heart, — in a word, the perfect reasonableness of a system which reason has not discovered. Nay, the farther this system is removed in its principles from the discoveries of human reason, the more does its coincidence with it become striking and admirable. Thus, in Christian preaching, reason abdicates on one point, but only on one ; it is satisfied not to comprehend, not to be able to construct, a priori, the principal facts of Christianity, and transfers them to the heart which embraces them, elaborates and vivifies them ; but it finds, in a neighbouring sphere, the rich indemnities we have just indicated. By itself alone it cannot form the Christian, but it pre- pares him ; it conducts from the natural to the supernatural, those whom the powerful energy of the Holy Spirit has not transported, without intermediate steps, into the high sphere of the faith of the heart. Thus the essential opposition which is proclaimed between XX11 INTRODUCTION. reason and faith has no real existence; they are two powers reign- ing in two distinct spheres. Those, therefore, who would make Christianity faith alone, and those who claim that it should be rea- son alone, are equally mistaken ; it is both ; — it takes possession at once of thought and feeling ; it withdraws from examination, :md lends itself to it by turns ; it has its darkness and its light. The theologian is bound to prove himself well informed ; he ought to conciliate to the Gospel the respect of reason itself ; but he ought by no means to place the Gospel on the same level with reason ; nay, he ought carefully to guard against this. "Between the two extremes we have exhibited, the rationalist preachers appear to seek a middle ground ; but he would be very simple who did not perceive that one of these extremes attracts them powerfully and claims them wholly. How ungrateful, too, their task ! To reduce every thing to the principles of nature is evidently their pretension ; to cause reason to usurp the place of faith, to extirpate from religion, by little and little, every thing serious, is the obvious aim of their labours. But when they have succeeded they will find themselves, like ordinary philosophers, face to face with mystery. What have they gained? Absolutely nothing ; except to have taken a longer and more expensive route. I suspect unbelieving logicians find the rationalists indifferent philosophers. " Is it perhaps that in rationalizing the Gospel, they have found a system more perfect than those which philosophy can produce ? As to certainty, their system possesses nothing more than any other ; as to intrinsic value, they might find one as good and plausible without making use of the Gospel. That meagre Chris- tianity, which they put in the place of the true, has nothing peculiar or individual, nothing which elevates it above the theories of mere reason. They imagine that by retrenching the facts, of a transcen- dental sphere, that is to say, supernatural facts, they are merely drawing the blade from its scabbard ; let them say rather, they have cast away the blade, and that the hilt only remains in their , hands. Stripped of the great fact of expiation, and all that cluster of ideas connected with it, what, I ask, is Christianity ? For ordi- nary minds, an ordinary morality ; for others, an abyss of incon- sistencies. 1 1 A striking evidence of this is found in the following passage from Lea- sing, a distinguished German critic, but unfortunately a sceptic on the sub- INTRODUCTION. Xxiii "I am persuaded that true philosophers will find that evangeli- cal preachers have taken a position more solid and philosophical. And we attach value to this suffrage; for if philosophy as a science does not inspire us with much confidence, so far as it relates to the! solution of the great problem of life, it is not so with philosophy as a method, or with the philosophical spirit. The art of abstract- ing, of generalizing, of classifying principles, will never be disdained by enlightened Christian preachers; besides, there is a Christian philosophy. Retained within certain limits, it has its use in preach- ing, and even in life. " If it is a mean it ought to be employed. The times are omi- nous. Society is evidently in a state of crisis. Never was the impotence of human wisdom, to consolidate the repose of nations and the welfare of humanity, more completely proved. Philosophy, deserting in despair its ancient methods, is abandoning itself to mysticism. In its need of some other light than its own, it has recourse to revelations, it is giving itself things to believe; it will believe them so long as it thinks it has invented them. It is ours to point out to it what has never entered the heart of man, — ours to render it more and more sensible of that obscure want which begins to have some consciousness of itself, that longing to attach reason to faith, and science to something revealed." That there is a Christian philosophy, a religion of God, as far ject of Christianity, as quoted by Dr. Pye Smith, in his Scripture Testimony to the Messiah, Vol. iii, p. 236. Speaking of the liberal or rationalist di-l vines of his country, he says, " Under the pretence of making us rationaj Christians, they have made us most irrational philosophers. . . I agree with you that our old religious system is false ; but I cannot say, as you do, that it is a botch-work of half philosophy and smatterings of knowledge. I know nothing in the world that more drew out and exercised a fine intel- lect. A botch-work of smatterings and half philosophy is that system of religion which people now want to set up in the place of the old one ; and with far more invasion upon reason and philosophy than the old one ever pretended to. If Christ is not the True God, the Mahometan religion is indisputably far better than the Christian, and Mohammed himself was in- comparably a greater and more honourable man than Jesus Christ ; for he was more truth-telling, more circumspect in what he said, and more zeal- ous for the honour of the one and only God, than Christ was, who if he did not exactly give himself out for God, yet at least said a hundred two-mean- ing things to lead simple people to think so ; while Mohammed could never be charged with a single instance of double-dealing in this way." How true it is, that to abstract the doctrines of the Godhead and atone- ment of Jesus Christ from the New Testament is to leave it an aln/ss of inconsistencies! XXIV INTRODUCTION. superior to all human philosophies and all human religions as the heavens are higher than the earth, no believer in divine revelation can doubt. It is not, however, a speculation, or a theory, but a system of absolute and authoritative truth, so simple and so prac- tical that all, even the unlettered peasant and the degraded slave, can receive it and apply it as the power of God unto salvation. After rejecting with contempt the wisdom or philosophy of this world, the apostle Paul adds : "Howbeit, we speak wisdom (phi- losophy) among them that are perfect, yet not the wisdbm of this world, nor of the princes of this world which come to nought; but Ave speak the wisdom of God in a mystery." That is to say, this philosophy, or religion of God, is. a revelation from above, or the development by God himself of what otherwise would be a mys- tery or secret, a philosophy therefore of original and positive truths, a definite, absolute, and authoritative philosophy. It is thence to be received, not as a deduction of reason, but as an inspiration from on high, a doctrine altogether peculiar, altogether divine, "the wisdom of God in a mystery, even the hidden wisdom which God ordained before the world, to our glory; — for it is written, Eye hath not seen, ear hath not heard, neither have entered into the heart of man the things which God hath prepared for them that love him." These things are the original facts spoken of by our anthor, as equivalent in authority to the great intuitive truths which all philosophers admit without proof, and antecedent to all speculation. Of such revealed facts, philosophy has never dreamed : Her eye has never seen them ; her ear has never heard them ; her soul has never conceived aught even resembling them. They are hidden from the world entirely. For what man, to quote the lan- guage of St. Paul, knoweth the things of man save the spirit of man that is in him? And who but the Spirit of God knows the things of God? Man may know himself; man can alone know what passes in his own interior nature. No being in the universe but God and himself can know the facts of his own mental expe- rience. But while man may be conversant with his own mind, he an unjust claim. It is to demand of God what he does not owe. us. To prove this, let us suppose that God has given ;i religion to man, and let us farther suppose this religion to be the Gospel: for this absolutely charges nothing to the argu- ment. We maj believe that God was free, at least, with reference THE MYSTERIES OF CHRISTIANITY. 45 to us, to give us or not to give us a religion ; but it must be admitted that in granting it, he contracts engagements to us, and that the first favour lays him under a necessity of conferring other favours. For this is merely to say, that God must be consistent, and that he finishes what he has begun. Since it is by a written revelation he manifests his designs respecting us, it is necessary he should fortify that revelation by all the authority which would at least determine us to receive it ; it is necessary he should give us the means of judging whether the men who speak to us in his name are really sent by him ; in a word, it is necessary we should be assured that the Bible is truly the word of God. It would not indeed be necessary that the conviction of each of us should be gained by the same kind of evidence. Some shall be led to Christianity by the historical or external arguments; they shall prove to themselves the truth of the Bible, as the truth of all history is proved; they shall satisfy themselves that the books of which it is composed are certainly those of the times and of the authors to which they are ascribed. This settled, they shall com- pare the prophecies contained in these ancient documents with the events that have happened in subsequent ages; they shall assure themselves of the reality of the miraculous facts related in these books, and shall thence infer the necessary intervention of Divine power, which alone disposes the forces of nature, and can alone interrupt or modify their action. Others, less fitted for such inves- tigations, shall be struck with the internal evidence of the holy Scriptures. Finding there the state of their souls perfectly des- cribed, their wants fully expressed, and the true remedies for their maladies completely indicated ; struck with a character of truth and candour which nothing can imitate ; in fine, feeling themselves, in their inner nature, moved, changed, renovated, by the mysteri- ous influence of these holy writings, they shall acquire, by such means, a conviction of which they cannot always give an account to others, but which is not the less legitimate, irresistible, and im- movable. Such is the double road by which an entrance is gained into the asylum of faith. But it was due from the wisdom of God, from his justice, and, we venture to say it, from the honour of his government, that he should open to man this double road ; for if he desired man to be saved by knowledge, on the same principle he engaged himself to furnish him the means of knowledge. 46 THE MYSTERIES OF CHRISTIANITY. Behold, whence come the obligations of the Deity with reference to us, — which obligations he has fulfilled. Enter on this double method of proof. Interrogate history, time, and places, respecting the authenticity of the Scriptures ; grasp all the difficulties, sound all the objections; do not permit yourselves to be too easily con- vinced; be the more severe upon that book, as it professes to con- tain the sovereign rule of your life, and the disposal of your destiny ; you are permitted to do this, nay, you are encouraged to do it, pro- vided you proceed to the investigation with the requisite capacities and with pure intentions. Or, if you prefer another method, ex- amine, with an honest heart, the contents of the Scriptures ; enquire, while you run over the words of Jesus, if ever man spake like this man; enquire if the wants of your soul, long deceived, and the anxieties of your spirit, long cherished in vain, do not, in the teach- ing and work of Christ, find that satisfaction and repose which no wisdom was ever able to procure you ; breathe, if I may thus ex- press myself, that perfume of truth, of candour, and purity which exhales from every page of the Gospel; see if, in all these respects, it does not bear the undeniable seal of inspiration and divinity. Finally, test it, and if the Gospel produces upon you a contrary effect, return to the books and the wisdom of men, and ask of them what Christ has not been able to give you. But if, neglecting these two. Avays, made accessible to you, and trodden by the feet of ages, you desire, before all, that the Christian religion should, in every point, render itself comprehensible to your mind, and complacently strip itself of all its mysteries; if you wish to penetrate beyond the vail, to find there, not the aliment which gives life to the soul, but that which would gratify your restless curiosity, I maintain that you raise against God a claim the most indiscreet, the most rash and unjust; for he has never engaged, either tacitly or expressly, to discover to you the secret which your eye craves; and such audaci- ous importunity is fit only to excite his indignation. He has given you what he owed you, more indeed than he owed you ; — the rest is with himself. If a claim so unjust could be admitted, where, I ask you, would be the limit of your demands? Already you require more from God than he has accorded to angels; for these eternal mysteries which trouble you, — the harmony of the divine prescience with human freedom, — the origin of evil and its ineffable remedy, — the THE MYSTERIES OF CHRISTIANITY. 47 incarnation of the eternal Word, — the relations of the God-man with his Father, — the atoning virtue of his sacrifice, — the regene- rating efficacy of the Spirit- comforter, — all these things are secrets, the knowledge of which is hidden from angels themselves, who, according to the word of the apostle, stoop to explore their depths, and cannot. If you reproach the Eternal for having kept the knowledge of these divine mysteries to himself, why do you not reproach him for the thousand other limits he has prescribed to you? Why not reproach him for not having given you wings, like a bird, to visit the regions which till now have been scanned only by your eyes? Why not reproach him for not giving you, besides the five senses with which you are provided, ten other senses which he has perhaps granted to other creatures, and which procure for them perceptions of which you have no idea? Why not, in fine, reproach him for having caused the darkness of night to succeed the brightness of day invariably on the earth? Ah ! you do not reproach him for that. You love that night which brings rest to so many fatigued bodies and weary spirits ; which suspends, in so many wretches, the feeling of grief; — that night during Avhich orphans, slaves, and criminals cease to be, because over all their misfortunes and sufferings it spreads, with the opiate of sleep, the thick vail of oblivion ; you love that night, which, peopling the de- serts of the heavens with ten thousand stars, not known to the clay, reveals the infinite to our ravished imagination. Well, then, why do you not, for a similar reason, love the night of divine mysteries, — night, gracious and salutary, in which reason humbles itself, and finds refreshment and repose ; where the darkness even is a revela- tion; where one of the principal attributes of God, immensity, dis- covers itself much more fully to our mind ; where, in fine, the tender relations he has permitted ns to form with himself, are guarded from all admixture of familiarity, by the thought, that the Being who has humbled himself to us, is, at the same time, the incon- ceivable God who reigns before all time, who includes in himself all existences and all conditions of existence, — the centre of all thought, the law of all law, the supreme and final reason of every thing! So that if you are just, instead of reproaching him for the secrets of religion, you will bless him that he has enveloped you in mysteries. 48 THE MYSTEMES OF CHRISTIANITY. But this claim is not only unjust towards God; it is also in itself exceedingly unreasonable. "What is religion? It is God putting himself in communication with man ; the Creator with the creature, the infinite with the finite. There already, without going further, is a mystery; a mystery common to all religions, impenetrable in all religions. If, then, everything which is a mystery offends you, you are arrested on the threshold, I will not say of Christianity, but of every reli- gion ; I say, even of that religion which is called natural, because it rejects revelation and miracles ; for it necessarily implies, at the very least, a connection, a communication of some sort between God and man, — the contrary being equivalent to atheism. Your claim prevents you from having any belief; and because you have not been willing to be Christians, it will not be allowed you to be deists. "It is of no consequence," you say, "we pass over that diffi- culty; we suppose between God and us connections we cannot conceive ; we admit them because they are necessary to us. But this is the only step we are willing to take; we have already yielded too much to yield more." Say more, — say you have granted too much not to grant much more, not to grant all! You have con- sented to admit, without comprehending it, that there may be communications from God to you, and from you to God. But consider well what is implied in such a supposition. It implies that you are dependent, and yet free, — this you do not compre- hend ; — it implies that the Spirit of God can make itself understood by your spirit, — this you do not comprehend ; — it implies that your prayers may exert an influence on the will of God, — this you do not comprehend. It is necessary you should swallow all these mysteries, in order to establish with God connections the mosl vague and superficial, and by the very side of which atheism is placed. And when, by a powerful effort with yourselves, you have done so much as to admit these mysteries, you recoil from those ol Christianity! You have accepted the foundation, and refuse tin superstructure ! You have accepted the principle, and refuse the details ! You are right, no doubt, so soon as it is proved to you that the religion which contains these mysteries does not come from God ; or rather, these mysteries contain contradictory ideas. But you are not justified in denying them, for the sole reason that you THE MYSTERIES OF CHRISTIANITY. 49 do not understand them ; and the reception you have given to the first kind of mysteries compels you, by the same rule, to receive the others. This is not all. Not only are mysteries an inseparable part, nay, the very substance of all religion ; but it is absolutely impos- sible that a true religion should not present a great number of mysteries. If it is true, it ought to teach more truths respecting God and divine things than any other, than all others together ; but each of these truths has a relation to the infinite, and by con- sequence borders on a mystery. How should it be otherwise in religion, when it is thus in nature itself? Behold God in nature ! The more he gives us to contemplate, the more he gives to astonish! To each creature is attached some mystery. Each grain of sand is an abyss ! Now, if the manifestation which God has made of himself in nature suggests to the observer a thousand questions which cannot be answered, how will it be when to that first reve- lation another is added ; when God the Creator and Preserver reveals himself under new aspects as God the Reconciler and Sa- viour ? Shall not mysteries multiply with discoveries ? With each new day shall we not see associated a new night? And shall we not purchase each increase of knowledge with an increase of igno- rance ? Has not the doctrine of grace, so necessary, so consoling, alone opened a profound abyss, into which, for eighteen centuries, rash and restless spirits have been constantly plunging? It is, then, clearly necessary that Christianity should, more than any other religion, be mysterious, simply because is is true. Like mountains, which, the higher they are, cast the larger shadows, the Gospel is the more obscure and mysterious on account of its sublimity. After this, will you be indignant that you do not com- prehend everything in the Gospel? It would, forsooth, be a truly sin-prising thing, if the ocean could not be held in the hollow of your hand, or uncreated wisdom within the limits of your intelli- gence ! It would be truly unfortunate, if a finite being could not embrace the infinite, and that, in the vast assemblage of things, there should be some idea beyond its grasp ! In other words, it would be truly unfortunate, if God himself should know something which man does not know. Let us acknowledge, then, how insensate is such a claim when it is made with reference to religion. 7 D 50 THE MYSTERIES OF CHRISTIANITY. But let us also recollect how much, in making such a claim, we shall be in opposition to ourselves ; for the submission we dislike in religion we cherish in a thousand other things. It happens to us every day to admit things we do not understand ; and to do so without the least repugnance. The things the knowledge of which is refused us are much more numerous than we perhaps think. Few diamonds are perfectly pure ; still fewer truths are perfectly clear. The union of our soul with our body is a mystery ; out- most familiar emotions and affections are a mystery ; the action of thought and will is a mystery ; our very existence is a mystery. Why do we admit all these various facts ? Is it because we under- stand them ? No, certainly, — but because, they are self-evident, and because they are truths by which we live. In religion we have no other course to take. We ought to know whether it is true and necessary ; and once convinced of these two points, we ought, like the angels, to submit to the necessity of being ignorant of some things. And why do we not submit cheerfully to a privation which after all is not one ? To desire the knowledge of mysteries is to desire what is utterly useless ; it is to raise, as I have said before, a claim the most vain and idle. What, in reference to us, is the object of the Gospel ? Evidently to regenerate and save us. But it attains this end entirely by the things it reveals. Of what use would it be to know those it conceals from us ? We possess the knowledge which can enlighten our consciences, rectify our inclinations, renew our hearts ; what should we gain, if we possessed other knowledge? It infinitely concerns us to know that the Bible is the word of God. Does it equally concern us to know in what way the holy men who wrote it were moved by the Holy Ghost ? It is of infinite impor- tance for us to know that Jesus Christ is the Son of God. Need we know precisely and in what way the divine and human nature are united in his adorable person? It is of infinite importance for us to know that unless we are born again we cannot enter the kingdom of God, and that the Holy Spirit is the author of that new birth ; — shall avg be further advanced if we know the divine process by which that wonder is performed? Is it not enough for us to know the truths that save ? Of what use, then, would it be to know those which have not the slightest bearing on cur salvation ? " Though I knew all mysteries," says St. Paul, THE MYSTERIES OF CHRISTIANITY. 51 " and have not chanty, I am nothing." St. Paul was content not to know, provided he had charity ; shall not we, following his ex- ample, be content also without knowledge, provided that, like him, we have charity, that is to say, life ? But some one will say, If the knowledge of mysteries is really without influence on our salvation, why have they been indicated to us at all ? What if it should be to teach us not to be too prodi- gal of our wherefores! if it should be to serve as an exercise of our faith, a test of our submission ! But we will not stop with such a reply. Observe, I pray you, in what manner the mysteries of which you complain have taken their part in religion. You readily perceive they are not by themselves, but associated with truths which have a direct bearing on your salvation. They contain them, they serve to envelope them ; but they are not themselves the truths that save. It is with these mysteries as it is with the vessel which contains a medicinal draught ; it is not the vessel that cures, but the draught ; yet the draught could not be presented without the vessel. Thus each truth that saves is contained in a mystery which in itself has no power to save. So the great work of ex- piation is necessarily attached to the incarnation of the Son of God, which is a mystery ; so the sanctifying graces of the new covenant are necessarily connected with the outpouring of the Holy Spirit, which is a mystery ; so, too, the divinity of religion finds a seal and an attestation in the miracles, which are mysteries. Every where the light is born from darkness, and darkness accom- panies the light. These two orders of truth are so united, so in- terlinked, that you cannot remove the one without the other; and each of the mysteries you attempt to tear from religion would carry with it one of the truths which bear directly on your regene- ration and salvation. Accept the mysteries, then, not as truths that can save you, but as the necessary conditions of the merciful work of the Lord in your behalf. The true point at issue in reference to religion is this : — Does the religion which is proposed to us change the heart, unite to God, prepare for heaven ? If Christianity produces these effects, we will leave the enemies of the cross free to revolt against its myste- ries, and tax them with absurdity. The Gospel, we will say to them, is then au absurdity ; you have discovered it. But behold 52 THE MYSTERIES OF CHRISTIANITY. what a new species of absurdity that certainly is which attaches man to all his duties, regulates human life better than all the doc- trines of sages, plants in his bosom harmony, order, and peace, causes him joyfully to fulfil all the offices of civil life, renders him better fitted to live, better fitted to die, and which, were it gener- ally received, would be the support and safeguard of society ! Cite to us, among all human absurdities, a single one which produces such effects. If that " foolishness'' we preach produces effects like these, is it not natural to conclude that it is truth itself? And if these things have not entered the heart of man, it is not because they are absurd, but because they are divine. Make, my readers, but a single reflection. You are obliged to confess that none of the religions which man may invent can satisfy his wants, or save his soul. Thereupon you have a choice to make. You will either reject them all as insufficient and false, and seek for nothing better, since man cannot invent better, and then you will abandon to chance, to caprice of temperament or of opinion, your moral life and future destiny ; or you will adopt that other religion which some treat as folly, and it will render you holy and pure, blameless in the midst of a perverse generation, united to God by love, and to your brethren by charity, indefatigable in doing good, happy in life, happy in death. Suppose, after all this, you shall be told that this religion is false ; but, meanwhile, it has restored in you the image of God, re-established your primitive con- nections with that great Being, and put you in a condition to enjoy life and the happiness of heaven. By means of it you have become such that at the last day, it is impossible that God should not receive you as his children, and make you partakers of his glory. You are made fit for paradise, nay, paradise has commenced for you even here, because you love. This religion has done for you what all religion proposes, and what no other has realized. Never- theless, by the supposition, it is false ! And what more could it do, were it true ? Rather do you not see that this is a splendid proof of its truth ? Do you not see that it is impossible that a religion which leads to God should not come from God, and that the ab- surdity is precisely that of supposing that you can be regenerated by a falsehood. Suppose that afterwards, as at the first, you do not comprehend. It is apparently neccessary you should be saved by the things you THE MYSTERIES OF CHRISTIANITY. 53 do not comprehend. Is that a misfortune ? Are you the less saved? Does it become you to demand from God an account of an obscu- rity which does not injure you, when, with reference to every thing essential, he has been prodigal of light ? The first disciples of Jesus, men without culture and learning, received the truths they did not comprehend, and spread them through the world. A crowd of sages and men of genius have received, from the hands of these poor people, truths which they comprehend no more than they. The ignorance of the one, and the science of the other, have been equally docile. Do, then, as the ignorant and the wise have done. Embrace with affection those truths which have never entered into your heart, and which will save you. Do not lose, in vain discus- sions, the time which is gliding away, and which is bearing you into the cheering or appalling light of eternity. Hasten to be saved. Love now; one day you will know. May the Lord Jesus prepare you for that period of light, of repose, and of happiness! 54 in. THE GOSPEL COMPEEHENDED BY THE HEAET. ' Tilings which have not entered into the heart of man, but which God hath prepared for them that love him.'—l Cob, ii, 0. GOD has destined the world to be, not only the theatre of our activity, but also the object of our study. He has concealed in the depths of nature innumerable secrets, which he invites us to fathom ; innumerable truths, which he encourages us to discover. To penetrate these secrets, to discover these truths, it is necessary to possess certain intellectual faculties, and to have them suitably exercised, but nothing more. The dispositions of the heart have no direct influence on the acquisition of this kind of knowledge. It is with this knowledge as it is with "the rain, which God causeth to fall on the just and the unjust, and the sun which he inaketh to shine upon the good and the evil." To acquire it does not necessarily suppose a pure heart or a benevolent character ; and, unhappily, it is too common to see the finest gifts of genius united with the most deplorable selfishness and the deepest depravity of manners. God seems to have prepared the truths of human science indifferently for his friends, and enemies. It is not thus with the truths of religion. God, it is said, in the Scriptures, "hath prepared them for those that love him." Not that he has excluded from the possession of them men of learning and genius; but neither learning nor genius is sufficient here as in the other sciences. Love is the true interpreter of the truths of the Gospel. The "wis- dom of this world and of the princes of this world" is vanquished by the simplicity of love, love and wisdom among them that are perfect, conformably to that declaration of St. John, "He that loveth God is born of God and knoweth God." That which is often seen occurring between two persons of differ- ent languages takes place between God and man ; it is necessary that a person versed in both languages should intervene between jf^l , t THE GOSPEL COMPREHENDED BY THE HEART. , .a the two parties, and listening to the words of one, put them withhi t $£-' > £ M ^ reach of the other, by rendering them into the idiom he under- fan^-fa stands. But between God and man, between the Gospel and our i-vfo ^U, soul, that interpreter is love. Love renders intelligible to man t*t*4LCi the truths of the Gospel, not, indeed, those abstract truths which ftufiUft relate to the essence of God, the knowledge of which, as we have ^^^l^ seen, is equally inaccessible and useless to us, — but those other £■ a g^ truths which concern our relations to God, and constitute the very ^^^ foundation of religion. These are the truths which escape from ffo^Ju* reason, and which love seizes without difficulty. fiwi ~^U, You are surprised, perhaps, to see filled by love, by a sentiment ^ b<6*& of the heart, a function which seems to you to belong only to rea- „ "^TZrki son. But please to reflect that the greater part of our knowledge is derived to us immediately from another source than reason. ^ /* When we desire to obtain a knowledge of a natural object, it is, Z-VurU* primarily, our senses we make use of, and not our reason. It is 6£^l*fu at first by sight that we acquire a knowledge of the size and form ifr^t** of bodies ; by hearing, that of sounds ; and by smell, that of odours. *ln44H It is necessary that reason should afterwards perform a part, and ,J{ v ^ connect its operations with those of the organs; but whatever may fU*** w be the importance of its intervention, we must admit that the £«^c*/ knowledge of sensible objects and their properties is derived essen- oc*-*.** tially from the senses. &*./>/«, ^*,/#«*#w"2 t r { ( i 1t h<£< Things transpire in no other way in the moral world. It is not j$~^^i by the intellect alone, nor by the intellect first, that we can judge of things of this order. To know then we must have a sense also, which is called the moral sense. The intellect may come in after- wards as an auxiliary; it observes, compares, and classes our im- pressions, but it does not produce them ; and it would be as little reasonable to pretend that w r e owe them to it, as to affirm that it <~ • /-■ is by the ear we obtain the knowledge of colours, by sight that of ^^ \ perfumes, and by smell that of sounds and harmonies. The things fUif #u of the heart are not truly comprehended but by the heart. vtucC i Permit us to dwell a moment upon this idea; for we feel the , / necessity of explaining it thoroughly. In saying that the heart V r comprehends, do we say that it becomes reason, or that it conducts Uii4 ^4 a process of reasoning? By no means. The heart does not com- id-u^Ju prehend like the reason; but it comprehends as well, if not better. C#n,i u As to the reason, what is it to comprehend? It is to seize the uUu-1 U"L \u*m- > M"^" ^f^ tH&t/** j^t t^tTyS *-t~<. ls*^jAM*.tUxL (u*. to tmvtr 56 THE GOSPEL COMPREHENDED BY THE HEART. thread of logical deduction, the chain of ideas which joins together two or more facts ; it is to attain conviction, assurance, by means other than experience; it is to be placed by the intellect in relative connection with those objects, an immediate contact with which is denied ns. The comprehension of the mind, to speak plainly, is nothing more than a supplement to the inevitable chasms in our experience. 1 These chasms occur either from the absence of the objects themselves, or from their nature, which has no point of contact with ours. If these two obstacles did not exist, or if it were possible to remove them, man would have nothing to com- prehend; for he would touch, he would grasp, he would taste every thing. Reason in him would be replaced by intuition. Wherever tuition has place there is no more comprehension, for it is more than comprehension ; or if any chooses that it should be comprehension, it is a comprehension of a new nature, of a superior order, which explains every thing without effort, to which every thing is clear, but which it cannot communicate by words to the reason of another. But it is the same with the comprehension of the heart. Doubt- less it has its precise limits. It extends to every thing within the domain of sentiment, but to nothing beyond. Reason, however, has its limits, also, quite as distinctly marked, and can no more overleap them than the heart those which belong to it. Applied to things which belong exclusively to the sphere of sentiment, it wanders in obscurity ; it passes by the side of sentiment as if it were a stranger; it neither understands nor is understood; and re- tires from a useless struggle, without having either taken or given any thing. Reason on the one side, and the heart on the other, do not comprehend each other. They have no mutual agreement except in that of a disdainful pity. i The word experience is here used in its strictly philosophical sense. It embraces the facts of sensation and consciousness, the emotions and per- ceptions of the mind. These constitute an assemblage of facts, which it is the province of reason first to analyze, and then combine, under general heads or systems: and thus supply the deficiencies or chasms in our expe- rience. It especially perceives and classifies relations, and deduces from the whole those general ideas which embody, in their comprehensive range, .in infinite number of scattered hut related facts. Reason, therefore, is a supplement to our experience, and is a purely intellectual process. It in- volves no feeling or affection, and may exist, in the greatest perfection, without a single holy or virtuous impulse. — T. THE GOSPEL COMPREHENDED BY THE HEART. 57 To render this truth more evident, suppose on the one hand, a generous man, a hero, a soul ever burning with the lofty flame of devotion ; and on the other, a man of quick intelligence, of reason vast and profound, but deprived, were it possible, of all sensibility, do you not believe that the first would, all his life long, be an enig- ma to the other ? How indeed could the latter conceive of those transports of enthusiasm, those acts of self-denial, and those su- blime expressions, the source of which never existed in his own soul? "The spiritual man," says St. Paul, "judgeth all things, and no one (unless spiritual) can judge him." Let us, by suppo- sition, apply this expression to the sensitive and generous being of whom we speak ; no one, unless he has the germs of the same emotions, can form a judgment of him ; — a fact distinctly recog- nized by those who have said, that great souls pass through the world without being understood. Affectation ! hypocrisy ! is the cry frequently heard in view of certain manifestations, and especially of religious manifestations. An ardour which glows in the depths of the soul, which engrosses all the faculties, and which is incessantly renewed from its own proper source, appears to some too strange to be credited. In order to believe it, they need only to feel it ; but certain it is, that unless they do feel it, they cannot conceive of it. And they will continue to tax with affectation and hypocrisy a sentiment which perhaps restrains itself, and discovers only half of its energy. A mistake, how natural ! All the efforts of the most active intellect cannot give us the conception of the taste of a fruit we have never tasted, or the perfume of a flower we have never smelt, much less of an affection we have never felt. It is with the heights of the soul as it is with the sublimities of the firmament. When, on a serene night, millions of stars sparkle in the depths of the sky, the gorgeous splendour of the starry vault ravishes every one that has eyes ; but he to whom Providence has denied the blessing of sight would in vain possess a mind open to the loftiest conceptions ; in vain would his intellectual capacity transcend what is common among men. All that intelligence, and all the power he might add by study to his rare gifts, will not aid him in forming a single idea of that ravishing spectacle ; while at his side, a man without talent or culture has only to raise his eyes to embrace at a glance, and in some measure to enjoy, all the THE GOSPEL r OMPREHKSUBD BY THE HEART. i ph mtkmi of the firmament, and, through his risk to in- to his soul the impressk: iiaele ear: i:,:::r. Another sky. and one as magnificent as the azure vault stretch- ed OTer oar heads, is revealed to us in the GospeL Divine truths are the stars of that myotic sky. and they shine in it brighter and purer than the stars of the firmament ; but there mast be a -. them, and th Gospel is a work of '. -• ve realized under its purest form ; and i the light of the world cannot be known without an eye, love can- :• comprehended but by the heart. You may have exhausted all the powers of your reason, and all the resources of jour knowledge, to establish the authentic; >3riptures ; you may have perfectly explained the apparent _.:.:... 1.. :!::.;.: :. .:-:-! ::. 1 '. : "-■-- : ; : -". "_ :. ." - :. • r rr : -; -.-: :..r . :.- nection of the fundamental truths of the GospeL You may have fam do no: Gospel will be to you no- : '. _• '. _: i :.,: .zY.-z :.:. : :. izL.-.L ".::>: ::« :r'. --..::.::.« ~ :.'. appear to you but as abstractions and naked ideas ; its system but eolation unique in its kind : nay more, whatever in the Gos- ; 7. Li l. -: -::: ::i"r. ~ :s: ; .-.-:. "- ..:. '- ~ .-.:. ': ;.: ..:. : ::: ..;> conception, a strange dogma, a painful test of — and no- :":. :-j :...::. B_: - come be- tween the Gospel and the human soul, and the truth of the Gospel shall have a meaning, — and one as clear as it is profound. Then shall yocr soul find itself free and happy in the midst of these strai. . ons. Then shall those truths you have accepted, through submission and obedience, bee*, l r and as necessarily true is :ns upon which your existence. Then shall you penetrate without an into the marvellous system which your reason dreaded, so e too near, in a confused apprehension of being tempted to infidelity. Then shall you probably be astonished that you had nerer perceived, conjectured, discovered it : that previous to revelation you had never found out that such a system was as necessary to the glory of God as to the happiness of man. - long as man, with reason alone, has climbed up Cah gone around the cross, he has seen nothing but darkness in the THE GOSPEL COMPREHENDED BY THE HEART. 59 divine work of expiation. For whole ages might he remain in contemplation before that mysterious fact, but would not succeed in raising from it the vail. Ah! how can reason, cold reason, comprehend such a thing as the substitution of the innocent for the guilty ; as the compassion which reveals itself in severity of punishment, in that shedding of blood without which, it is said, there can be no expiation. It will not make, I dare affirm, a single step towards the knowledge of that divine mystery, until casting away its ungrateful speculations, it yields to a power more capable the task of terminating the difficulty. That power is the heart ; which fixes itself entirely on the love that shines forth in the work of redemption ; cleaves without distraction to the sacri- fice of the adorable victim ; lets the natural impression of that un- paralleled love penetrate freely, and develope itself gradually, in its interior. O how quickly, then, are the vails torn away, and the shadows dissipated for ever! How little difficulty does he that loves find in comprehending love ! How natural to him does it appear, that God, infinite in all things, should be infinite also in his compassion ! How inconceivable to him, on the other hand, that human hearts should not be capable of feeling the beauty of a work without which God could not manifest himself entire ! How astonished is he at the blindness of those who read and re-read the Scriptures without comprehending the central truth ; who pass and re-pass before a love all divine without recognizing or even per- ceiving a work all divine! The holy Scriptures have spoken to him of prayer as a power- ful mean of attracting the grace of God; as a force to which divine power is willing to submit, and which seems, in some sense, to share, with the Deity the empire of the universe. Before such an idea reason remains confounded. There is no objection it does not involuntarily raise against a doctrine which, after all, belongs to the very essence of religion. But to the heart how beautiful is this doctrine ; how natural, how probable, how necessary ! How eagerly the heart embraces it ! How it hastens to put it in tbfe rank of its most cherished convictions! And how wretchedly and foolishly ivise do those appear to it, who, feeling on the one hand, that religion without prayer is not religion, and on the other, that the bearing of prayer upon their destinies is inexplicable, resolve to remain in uncertainty on the subject, waiting and not praying at all! 60 THE GOSPEL COMPREHENDED BY THE HEART. It is the same with many other mysteries of Christianity, or rather with Christianity as a whole. Even to those who receive it as a divine religion, and believe it intellectually, it is vailed, it is empty, it is dead, so long as they do not call the heart to their aid. Among sincere believers, there are many who have gone around Christianity, a religion of their intellect, as around an im- penetrable sanctuary, knocking in turn at all the doors of that asylum, without finding one open, and returning without success to those already tried many times, believing and not believing at the same time, Christians by their wishes, pagans by their hopes, convinced but not persuaded, enlightened but not consoled. To such I address myself; I appeal to their sincerity, and ask them, Whence comes it that you believe, and as yet have only the re- sponsibilities, not the blessings, of faith ? How happens it, that you carry your faith as a yoke that oppresses and weighs you down, not as wings which raise you above your miseries and the world? How comes it, that, in the bosom of that religion you have accepted, you are strangers, exiles, and as if out of your natural atmosphere ? How is it that you are not at home in your father's house ? Let us put the finger upon the wound. It is that your heart is not yet touched. The heart of Lydia must be opened before she can understand the things spoken by Paul. So also your heart must be opened in order to understand the truths which only the heart can understand. Or, to use the energetic language of Scripture, the heart of flesh must take, in your bosom, the place of the heart of stone. Alas ! with a conviction firmly established, with an orthodoxy the most perfect, how many do we see, strangers to true faith, how many sceptical believers, how many who have not doubted the truth of the Scriptures a single day of their life, who read them assiduously, who know them even by heart, and who, notwithstand- ing all this, do not believe at all ! Ah, it is that faith is some- thing else than the product of the intellect ; it is that faith is love. Knowledge may give us convictions ; love alone gives us life. The first advice that reason ought to give us should be to refuse reason in everything which does not belong to its jurisdiction. But reason is proud, reason is dogmatic; it will not submit. What then does our heavenly Father do when he desires to save a soul? He leaves it for a time, to struggle with its speculations, and to THE GOSPEL COMPREHENDED BY THE HEART. 61 vex itself with their impotence. When it is weary and despair- ing, when it has acknowledged that it is equally incapable of stifling or of satisfying its craving for light, he takes advantage of its humiliation ; he lays his hand upon that soul, exhausted by its efforts, wounded by its falls, and compels it to sue for quarter. Then it humbles itself, submits, groans ; it cries for succour ; it renounces the claim to know, and desires only to believe ; it pre- tends not to comprehend, it only aspires to live. Then the heart commences its functions ; it takes the place of reason ; anguish and craving, the heart is such as God would have it. It sues for grace, and lo ! there is grace ; it asks for aid, and aid comes ; it craves salvation, and salvation is given ! On that heart, confused and miserable, is then bestowed, nay, lavished, all that was refused to reason, proud and haughty. Its poverty enables it to conceive what its wealth kept it from knowing. It comprehends with ease, it accepts with ardour, the truths which it needs, and without which no human soul can enjoy peace or happiness. And thus is fulfilled the word of wisdom : " Out of the heart proceed the springs of life." Will ye come, proud spirits, and demand from such an one an account of his faith ? Certainly he will not explain to you what is inexplicable ; in this respect he will send you away poorly sa- tisfied. But if he says to you, if he can say to yon, — I love ! — ought not such a response to satisfy you ? If he can say, — I no longer belong to myself, nor to honour, nor to the world ; my meat is to do the will of my heavenly Father ; I aspire to eternal good; I love, in God, all my brethren, with a cordial affection ; I am content to live, I shall be happy to die ; henceforth, all is harmony within me ; my energies and activities, my destiny and desires, my affections and thoughts, are all in accordance ; the world, this life, and human things are not the mystery which torments me, nor the contradiction that causes me to despair ; in a word, I am raised to newness of life. If he says, he can say to you all this, and his whole life corroborates his words, ah, then, do uot waste on him vain reasonings ; try not to refute him ; he has truth, for he has life. He touches with his hands, he sees with his eyes, he perceives, in some sort, with all his senses, a truth which all the arguments in the world could not establish with so much certainty, which all the arguments in the world cannot shake. Does the person who enjoys sight need to 62 THE GOSPEL COMPREHENDED BY THE HEART. be told there is light ? Can one in good health be persuaded he is sick ? These are irrefragable verities, the proof of which is iu himself, nay more, of which he is himself the living proof. Thus the truths of the Gospel have changed his heart ; but the Spirit of God must, first of all, have prepared it to receive them. Let us not lose sight of these two facts : — it is the Gospel which renews us, and it is the Spirit of God which enables us to receive the Gospel into our heart. When we have received it, when, in our heart, lately sick and insane, love has established his immuta- ble empire, that love becomes an abundant source of light. By it a thousand obscurities of the word are cleared away. Its flame imparts no less light than heat. Delightful thought! the more we love the more we know. Such is the experience of the Christian. Do you not wish to feel it, slaves of reason, melancholy victims of a knowledge which mistakes its limits and exaggerates its rights? Ye who know, but do not live, will ye not ask from God love in order to comprehend love, love in order to know, love in order to live? O God, whom we should never have known hadst thou not deigned to discover thyself to us in the light of the Gospel, com- plete the great work thou hast begun. Give us a heart to under- stand the truths thou hast revealed! Let the light of love, shed in our hearts by thee, disperse all the obscurities of thy word ! Let thy goodness, let thy marvellous wisdom, keep from us no other secrets than those which are useless for us to know; teach us by love the most perfect of all wisdom ; render the most simple wise in the science of salvation! Thy Spirit, O Lord, is love, as thou thyself art love. Diffuse it through the whole earth ; spread in every place that holy flame; attract all hearts to thyself; make of all souls one single soul, in a common sentiment of adoration and devotion! Lord! we shall know all when we know how to love; shall rejoice in a light which is not the product of laborious study, but one which sanctifies and consoles! Then truly shalt thou have spoken to us in the Gospel. Then shall it be seen that thou hast given to us a message of love and peace; and our conviction, cold, Bterile, useless, shall be changed into a living faith, full of hope, full of good fruits. 03 IV. FOLLY OF THE TBUTH. 1 " We preach Christ crucified, .... to the Greeks foolishness." — 1 Cor., i, 23. CHRISTIANITY has not left to infidelity the satisfaction of be- ing the first to tax it with folly. It has hastened to bring this accusation against itself. It has professed the bold design of sav- ing men by a folly. Upon this point it has suffered no illusion ; it knew that its doctrine would pass for an insane one, it knew it before experience of the fact, before any one had said it; and it went forth, with this folly on its lips, this folly for a standard, to the conquest of the world. If, then, it is foolish, it is so consciously and voluntarily; and those who reproach it on this account will at least be obliged to confess that it has foreseen their reproach and braved it. Never did so calm a foresight, so just an appreciation of obsta- cles, means, and chances, distinguish the author of a system, or the founder of a religion. Never did any one enter so fully into the spirit of his opponents, and transport himself so completely from his own point of view to theirs. When it is seen in what respect Christianity judges itself contrary to the world, and the world contrary to it, we have an idea of incompatibility so essen- tial and profound that we cannot help asking, with what hope, and so to speak, with what right, does such a religion propose itself to the world ; and a choice remains only between two suppositions, that of an extravagance absolutely unparalleled, or of a secret inspiration and a supernatural power. Of course, we should not dream of pretending that this charac- teristic of a doctrine was by itself a presumption in favour of its truth. Error, too, may have the appearance of folly, for error is 1 The word folie is used by French medical writers for insanity; and it is to madness, rather than simple folly, to which our author in this discount refers.— T. 61 FOLLY OF THE TRUTH. sometimes a folly ; I mean in the judgment of men ; for it is doubt- less such in the eyes of God. But this we say, that, if religion were destitute of such a characteristic, we could not presume it to be true. A religion which should appear reasonable to the whole world, could not be the true one ; in that general assent accorded to it, without opposition, I recognize the fact that God has not spo- ken ; the seal is not broken, the light has not burst forth ; I must still wait. This idea itself is not a folly ; and if its truth does not strike at first, if it does not present itself as a revelation of common sense, it is deduced without difficulty from other truths which common sense reveals, and which no man, unless deprived of this very com- mon sense, dreams of disavowing. Every one, if he will reason a little, will range himself on the side of this paradox, and will see this strange idea gradually become an obvious truth. Every one will acknowledge that true religion must, at its first appearance among men, be saluted from all sides with that accusation of folly which Christianity has so loftily braved. Let us leave to philosophers and physicians the task of exactly defining insanity. It has at least one constant characteristic, that it renders a man unfit for human life, taking life, in this instance, only in its essential conditions. The madman and the idiot do not form a part of society, to which the weakest, the most ignorant, and I will almost say, the most savage of men are not permitted, in all the force of the term, to belong. Insanity, which in othp" respects has no connection with crime, must at least have this, i common with it, that it throws us violently out of the pale of hu- manity. It is a monstrosity in the sphere of intellect. But as the evidence of such monstrosity is to believe or see something which no man, rightly constituted, and healthy in body and mind, be- lieves and sees, — since it is necessarily under such an aspect that insanity manifests itself, — it follows, that wherever this character- istic discovers itself it awakens the idea of insanity. So that even a man who is not destitute of any of the conditions which compose our idea of humanity, is, nevertheless, for the want of a better term, designated a fool, when by his opinions he is found alone in the midst of his nation or his age; and if he meets with partizans, real or pretended, they share with him, so long as their number is small, the same title and the same disgrace. FOLLY OF THE TRUTH. G5 Not only an opinion which all the world rejects, but a hope which no one shares, or a plan with winch no one associates him- self, brings the charge of folly, before the multitude, against the rash man who has conceived it, and who cherishes it. His opinion may seem just, and his aim reasonable ; he is a fool only for -wish- ing to realize it. His folly lies in believing possible what all the world esteems impossible. Nay, he is a fool at a cheaper rate than even this. If, renouncing hope, he does not abandon desire ; if he makes his happiness depend upon an end impossible to be attained, or an improvement impossible to be accomplished ; if, in the absence of a good which appears to him indispensable, of an ideal which has become, as it were, a part of his soul, he judges his life lost, and finds no relish in any of the joys which it offers to the rest of mankind, though in other respects he fulfil all the duties which his condition as a man imposes on him, the victim and sport •of a fixed idea, he is a madman, at least with reference to that particular point ; and the respect which others feel for him does not hinder them from pronouncing insane a grief which they do not understand. They do not always apply to him this opprobrious epithet ; but what they do not say they think ; what they do not proclaim they permit to be seen. That man, they say, is not indeed a fool, but he has a foolish notion. For insanity is not necessarily a darkness in which the whole soul is enveloped ; it is sometimes only a dark spot in a brilliant light. The shadows are more or less thick, more or less diffused. There are degrees of insanity ; after all, it is in- sanity. We need not dispute about a term ; and the world will ever call him foolish who desires to be wise all alone. In other respects, indeed, the world is willing that one should be wise. It says so, at least ; but it does not recognize any wis- dom contrary to the opinion and practice of the majority. It hon- ours principles ; it is willing, indeed, that we should regulate our- selves by them ; but it might be said, that it really knows none but the authority of numbers. At least numbers and also time are, in its eyes, so strong a presumption of truth, that it rarely gives itself the trouble to examine if one or a few individuals ma y not be right in opposition to all ; and it appears as if it would compel the truth, which has nothing in common with space and time to derive itself entirely from space and time. 7 E 6G FOLLY OF THE TRUTH. This prepossession is not without some foundation. It is not natural to suppose that truth was made to be the portion of a small number. It was a part, and the best part, of the heritage of hu- manity ; it was not to lie dormant for ages, to awaken at a given moment; nor to lose itself at a distance from the spirit of huma- nity, to be recovered in the thoughts of some favoured individual. The truth necessary to all was to be within the reach of all, and present itself unceasingly to the mind of all. Such was the con- dition of truth in the healthy and regular condition of human na- ture. But those who derive truth from the opinion of the majo- rity, either do not believe that man has departed from that primi- tive state, or they forget the fact ; or finally they believe in the fall, without believing its principal consequences. They do not reflect that one of its first consequences must be the stupefaction of the moral sense, and the obscuration of our natural light. They do not consider that the knowledge which depends upon a certain state of the soul changes with that very state, and that a con- science which has become dormant permits all kinds of error to enter the mind. They do not perceive that our soul is not a mir- ror, in which truth is reflected by itself, but an opake surface, on which it has always to be graven afresh ; that, since the fall, faith is so little independent of the will that, on the contrary, the will is a condition and an element of faith ; that truth has no longer an irresistible evidence, nor, consequently, the power of making the same impressions on the minds of all, and subjecting them at once to its sway. On the other hand, they do not see that humanity, having been corrupted at its source, it is with great difficulty that certain elementary principles, necessary to the existence of society, are preserved, and still less, we must acknowledge it, preserved as true as well as necessary. They do not remind themselves of the fact, that certain errors, adapted to all, have been able easily to enter the world by a door so poorly guarded as that of the heart, there to usurp authority, to establish themselves on a respectable footing, to become the rule of conduct and the test of morals. "Will they deny that there have been universal errors? What will they of Blavery, that appalling evil for which, during ages, no one had tin- slightest shame or remorse; which has not retired, except step by step, before the advancing light of Christianity, and which, O mournful condition of human nature! some civilized men, who FOLLY OF THE TRUTH. Q7 believe in Jesus Christ, yet defend? When these errors come to be torn from the human mind, it is from the roots, it is for ever ; the conscience of humanity never restores any of its conquests. But such errors have reigned; ages have transmitted them intact and vital ; and if universal consent is the seal of truth, they are as irrefragably true, as any of the truths which have universal con- sent for their basis. Are you surprised at this? Be appalled, but do not be surprised; for if the fall of man has not had these conse- quences, I am ignorant of what consequences it could have, and should be reduced to the necessity of deeming it a pure fiction, or of all truths the most insignificant and powerless. Many reason upon this subject as if nothing had happened since the day when God, looking upon his work, saw that what he had made was good. They speak of truth as if its condition amongst us were always the same. They love to represent it, en- veloping and accompanying humanity, as the atmosphere envelopes and accompanies our earth in its journey through the heavens. But it is not so ; truth is not attached to our mind, as the atmo- sphere to the globe we inhabit. — Truth is a suppliant, who, stand- ing before the threshold, is for ever pressing towards the hearth, from which sin has banished it. As we pass and re-pass before that door, which it never quits, that majestic and mournful figure fixes for a moment oar distracted attention. Each time it awakens in our memory I know not what dim recollections of order, glory, and happiness ; but we pass, and the impression vanishes. We have not been able entirely to repudiate the truth ; we still retain some unconnected fragments of it ; what of its light our enfeebled eye can bear, what of it is proportioned to our condition. The rest we reject or disfigure, so as to render it difficult of recognition, while we retain, — which is one of our misfortunes, — the names of things we no longer possess. Moral and social truth is like one of those monumental inscriptions 1 over which the whole community pass as they go to their business, and which every day become more and more defaced ; until some friendly chisel is applied to deepen the lines in that worn-out stone, so that every one is forced to perceive and to read it. That chisel is in the hands of a small number of men, who perseveringly remain prostrate before that i The monumental inscriptions here referred to are supposed to be level with the ground. — T GS FOLLY OF TIIE TRUTH. ancient inscription, at the risk of being dashed upon the pavement, and trampled under the heedless feet of the passers-by ; in other words, this truth dropped into oblivion, that duty fallen into disuse, finds a witness in the person of some man who has not believed, without any other consideration, than that all the world are right, simply and solely, because it is all the world. The strange things which that strange man says, and which some other repeats after him, will not fail to be believed sooner or later, and finally become the universal opinion. And why ? Be- cause truth is truth ; because it corresponds to every thing, satisfies every thing ; because, both in general and in detail, it is better adapted to us than error ; because, bound up by the most intimate relations, with all the order in the universe, it has in our interests and wants a thousand involuntary advocates ; because every thing demands it, every things cries after it; because error exhausts and degrades itself; because falsehood, which at first appeared to benefit all, has ended by injuring all ; so that truth sits down in its place, vacant, as it were, for the want of a suitable heir. Enemies concur with friends, obstacles with means, to the produc- tion of that unexpected result. Combinations of which it is im- possible to give account, and of which God only has the secret, secure that victory. But conscience is not a stranger here ; for there is within us, whatever we do, a witness to the truth, a witness timid and slow, but which a superior force drags from its retreat, and at last compels to speak. It is thus, that truths, the most combated, and, at first, sustained by organs the most despised, ond by becoming, in their turn, popular convictions. This is our hope with reference to that truth which includes all truths, or in the bosom of which they are all formed anew. We firmly believe, conformably to the divine promise, that a time will come when the rospel of Jesus Christ, if not loved by all, will at least be believed and professed by all. This, however, docs not prevent all such truths from being com- bated, and their first witnesses from passing for madmen. At the head of each of those movements which have promoted the eleva- tion of the human race, what do you see ? In the estimation of the world, madmen. And the contempt they have attracted by their folly has always been proportioned to the grandeur of their en- terprise, and the generosity of their intentions. The true heroes FOLLY OF THE TRUTH. G9 of humairity have always been crowned by that insulting epithet; And the man who to-day in a pious enthusiasm, or yet more, to please the world, celebrates those men whose glory lies in having dared to displease the world, would, during their life, have perhaps been associated with their persecutors. He honours them, not because they are worthy of honour, but because he sees them honoured. His fathers have killed the prophets, and he their son, subdued by universal admiration, builds the tombs of the prophets. The world demands,— and it is always by a forgetfulness of the condition into which we are fallen that it does so, — that truth should present itself with the advantage of simplicity and clearness. Many wish to make this a condition of truth ; they wish to recog- nize it by this mark. That is all very well ! But in order that it may appear simple, let us first have an eye simple like it. Is it the fault of truth, if, our heart being divided, our intellect should be divided also, and that the axioms of man innocent are the pro- blems of man fallen?- But without insisting on this reply, which may not perhaps be received by those who do not believe in the first fall, let us give another, which may be within the view and reach of all. If we make clearness and simplicity the test of truth, we run the risk, in many cases, of embracing error instead of truth ; for error, in most instances, has over the truth the advan- tage of simplicity. Error, very often, has nothing to do but to suppress one of the elements of a question, to procure for it, by that arbitrary suppression, a similitude of unity. Every truth in the actual condition of human nature, is composed of two terms, which must be harmonized, and which does not become truth in our minds but by their reconciliation. 1 There are always two elements 1 The reference here is obviously to that principle of the Baconian philo- sophy, so clearly developed in the Novum Organum, by which all facts and truths are to be investigated, on what Bacon calls their negative and affir- mative sides. Things are often not what they seem. All questions have two aspects ; and negative instances are uniformly to be reconciled to posi- tive, in order that truth may be evolved and established. Take, for ex- ample, the principle or fact of gravitation, by which all bodies tend to their centre, in the inverse ratio of their distance. This is proved by innumerable facts. But many things seem opposed to it, such as the rising of smoke, gases, vapours, and the like. These constitute the negative side of the question, and must be shown to be in harmony with the facts on the affirma tive side. The earth revolves round the sun ; but the sun appears to revolve round the earth ; it seems to rise and set, while the earth appears station- 70 FOLLY OF THE TRUTH. to be reduced to a single one, either by the conciliation or the sup- pression of one of them. The first step towards the truth is to recognize the existence of two elements; the second is to re-unite without destroying them. Now, in what position in reference to these are the greater part of sincere and thoughtful men ; or, to speak more properly, in what position is humanity ? In the first : that is to say, it recognizes this duality. The human mind, in general, is not in that state of simplicity which some would make the characteristic and mark of truth. Who, then, will appropriate to themselves this mark and characteristic ? Those, doubtless, who will rid themselves of one of the elements of the question, or one of the parts of the truth, that they may occupy their attention only with one. Hence it is their opinion only which will appear simple ; and, in a certain sense, it will be so in reality. And since this simplicity flatters at once the indolence and impatience of the hu- ary. These facts must be harmonized, by reference to a single principle or class of principles, in which they all unite. In moral or spiritual truths, the fact under consideration is still more ob- vious. Is man a spiritual and immortal being ? This is generally conced- ed, and the proof is satisfactory. But many facts seem opposed to it. For man sleeps, he decays, he loses his reason, he dies. This is the negative side of the question, and must be shown to be in harmony with the other, before the truth can be established. God is good and merciful. This is the affirmative side of a most important fact. But many tilings seem op- posed to it, such as the universal ignorance and wretchedness of man, the apparent disorders, in the natural and moral worlds, which are permitted, if not inflicted, by the Divine Being. The two sides of the question, then, must be reconciled, by the intervention of some other principle, or fact, such as the justice of God, the free-agency of man, or the indissoluble con- nection between sin and misery. This quality of truth, if it may be so called, is, if possible, still more obvious in revelation. It is affirmed, for example, that Jesus Christ is God ; but he is also spoken of as man, with all the feelings and infirmities of man. He loves, he suffers, he dies. In he acts the sovereign, in another the servant. >.'ow he wields the s of omnipotence. Anon he groans beneath the pressure of cala- mity. Now he lies in the grave guarded by Roman Boldiers, then hebreaks tin' bands <>f death, and ascends " far above all principality and power and might and dominion, ami every name that is named, not only in this world, Vat also in that which is to como." Where, then, is the fact, the consider- ation, or tin- principle, which must harmonize these two classes of opposing facts, the negative and positive sides of the problem relative to the mystery of < brist ? 1- it not found in tiie fact, that Jesus is both God and man, or, .is the New Testament expresses it, "God manifest in the flesh" < It' this ran 1"- shown, then the two terms of the question are reconciled, and the truth in the ease is established. — T. FOLLY OF THE TRUTH. 71 man mind, and since, on the other hand, the mind ever carries within it the sentiment that there is no truth but in unity, man, dazzled with that false and artificial unity, will eagerly abandon himself to opinions which present it to him, and will maintain them until constrained to acknowledge their falseness in their conse- quences, which violate at once his own nature and the nature of things. What has given success to the most pernicious errors, whether in matters of religion or of social order? Their great air of sim- plicity. What has been alleged in their favour? Common sense. The vulgar, the whole world indeed, permits itself to be caught by that bait. But human life obstinately refuses to settle down upon such a basis. Common opinion originates no doctrine with which man can remain satisfied. The ideas to which he is obliged to remount in order to give dignity to his life possess much more the character of paradoxes than of common-sense notions. Doubt- less there was a time when man obtained them by immediate intuition, and not through the intervention of reflection; because such ideas were not distinguished from his very existence. 1 But that time is no more ; the pure light is broken in the prison of sin ; the power of collecting the scattered rays is not within us ; and common sense has not filled the place of intuition. If man yet accomplishes great and sublime things in the world, it is not under the inspiration of common opinion, but under some glimmering of primitive light ; nor is it to common opinion they are ascribed, for it is in its name they are condemned. In the eyes of the mass, self-denial, humility, and martyrdom are not common sense. Thus have I called attention to a fact, and given an explana- tion of it. It is that a general contempt has often covered those who have recalled to the notice of men some principle of eternal rectitude, some truth essential to the elevation of human nature ; and the explanation I have given of it is, the fall. Let us, if you please, for the present, leave the explanation, and confine ourselves to the fact. We ask only that it be affirmed or denied. But we can scarcely believe that any one will deny it. For, that certain individual opinions, which have subsequently become universal, have caused their first partizans to be treated as madmen or cri- 1 They formed a part of himself. He acted upon them naturally and spontaneously. His mind was clear, and his heart innocent. — T. 72 FOLLY OF THE TRUTH. initials, who would wish to dispute? And yet to maintain that those opinions, now become universal, were, after all, errors, would argue a disposition of mind, and even a state of moral feeling, which we are not permitted to anticipate. I remind you only that torture, slavery, the degradation of the female sex, and compulsion in matters of religion, have existed amongst us as truths of public recognition, and almost as articles of faith; and that there is a country where the man who should wish to prevent widows from burning themselves with the dead bodies of their husbands would be considered a madman or an infidel. Suppose, then, that the fact in question is admitted by all our readers; let us occupy our- selves only with appreciating its nature. If the defenders of the most necessary, and, in the present day. the most evident truths, have, in all epochs and in all countries r gone by the name of fools; if they have been hated, despised, and persecuted; if the truth of which they were the messengers has not penetrated, except slowly and by a sanguinary road, into common opinion, laws, and manners ; if it had to submit to that exile of ages, in order to reach, as we have said, from the threshold to the hearth, what, Ave ask, is the condition of truth on the earth, and the position of man with reference to it? We say nothing of the fall; let us admit that man has not^allen; let us not ask what he might have been formerly; let us look only at what he is at present, that is, since the remotest era to which we can go back by the aid of historical monuments. What is the disposition of a being re- specting the truth who at first rejects it; who despises those who proclaim it; who, when he accepts it, submits to it rather than accepts it; who receives it only by little and little, and in a shat- tered and fragmentary state ; who finally attaches himself to it, I acknowledge, and does not abandon it, but, like a husband, who, dining long years, has shown himself stupidly insensible to the virtues of his wife, and finally yields only to the inconceivable obstinacy of a patience and an affection almost superhuman. That effort, that sanguinary struggle, with which humanity, wrestling, so to speak, against himself, seizes, one by one, the most necessary truths; the bad grace with which it is done, and the incapacity of not doing otherwise, indicate two things at once; the first, that man cannot do without the truth; the second, that he is not in fellowship with the truth. But truth is one; and all FOLLY OF THE TRUTH, 73 those truths successively discovered are only parts or diverse appli- cations of it. All the truths which are sometimes called principles are the consequence of a first principle. That principle includes all, unites all; it is from this source they derive their evidence, their life, their immortality. That principle is the first truth which must be honoured, the first light that must be kindled. It will itself kindle all extinguished truths, shed over them an equal radi- ance, and nourish all their scattered lamps Avith a divine oil, the source of which is inexhaustible, because it is divine. We must have a key to all problems, a primary idea, by means of which ail else may be known; truth is one, because man is one; it is one, or it is nothing. We here say nothing new. This is the very idea which the human mind has best preserved of its ancient heritage. It has always endeavoured to attach all its thoughts, all its life, to one graud and unique principle. This effort has given birth to all re- ligions ; for that primary principle could be nothing but God; and the great question at issue has been to form an idea of God. But man has never failed to make God after his own image, and his various religions have never surpassed himself; for if by these he imposes on himself acts and privations which he would not other- wise impose, these toils, which are of his own choice, do not raise him above himself. Hence these religions do not change the principle of his inner life; they subject him to an external sway, only to leave him free at heart; in a word, they do not substitute the new man for the old. And since they take man at a given point in space and duration, they are necessarily temporary, and retire before a new degree of culture, and a new form of civiliza- tion. But at their first appearance, however absurd they may be, they are by no means taxed with folly ; because they are only a form given to the moral conditions of all, — a form which is itself the result of time, place, and traditions ; it is born and grows up with the people; it is itself as appropriate and natural as their manners; and they will take care not to accuse of extravagance their own work, and their own thought. But let a doctrine present itself, which, so far from being formed in the image of man as he is, appears, on the contrary, formed in the image of man as he is not ; a doctrine which compels man to surpass himself, and which changes the character, not of a parti- 7i FOLLY OF THE TRUTH. cular class, or of a single energy or faculty, but of the entire hu- man life ; a doctrine which places the object of humanity higher than it is placed by any individual, or by mankind generally, how. think you, will it be received? What ! the particular applications of the principle have cost those who proposed it contempt and in- sult, while the very principle of all these applications, that which included them all, and discovers many others like them, does not bring upon its defenders insult and contempt ! What ! hate the consequences, and yet not hate the principle which sanctions them, enforces them, and will continually give rise to others of a similar kind ! We do not think so. That principle will not escape hatred, unless by contempt, or rather, it will suffer both by turns ; the hatred of those who cannot help suspecting its truth ; the contempt of others, who, looking on it only as a prejudice different from their own, will not believe it formidable enough to deserve their hatred. Let us rather say, that both of them will be forced to re- gard it as a folly. For what is that principle, which has created, so to speak, another human nature. It cannot be an abstraction; it must be a fact. It must be a fact of a new order, because or- dinary facts would leave us in our ordinary condition. It is, then, a divine fact ; for to God only does it belong to create a fact of a new order. Hence it is a fact which Ave could not foresee. And since we could not foresee it, we cannot comprehend it. It is not a natural but a supernatural fact; it is a miracle ; it is a folly. Indeed, it is not a religion such as that w^hich man makes for him- self. True religion is a revelation of God ; and if God has spoken, what he has said is necessarily a folly to those who do not believe. Those, too, who convey this revelation, or relate this fact, or an- nounce this message, will excite in the world an immense surprise: will revolt the wise, alarm the timid, irritate the powerful. They will see let loose against them the ignorant as aycII as the Avise ; for it is not necessary to be learned in order to' discern folly. As to the effects which this fact has produced upon them, and the internal revolution they have undergone, if they speak of them. they will not be believed; their most certain experiences Avill ap- pear but as vain fancies. And since the Avorld do not comprehend their principles, neither will they comprehend their conduct; they will complain of them as enthusiasts; they will ridicule them as mystics, until that power of truth, of which Ave have spoken, has FOLLY OF THE TRUTH. ID acted upon the most rebellious spirits, subdued contempt, and fin- ally forced the wisest to confess and to bless that folly. The history I have thus recounted is that of the Gospel. Chris- tian truth, simply because it was the truth, must at its first ap- pearance have had all the world against it. It has become, externally, the religion of nations ; and governments have done themselves the honour to protect it, or to be protected by it. It would indeed be difficult to say with precision what the nations have adopted under the name of the Christian religion. They never believe with the same faith as individuals. A nation has its manner of being Christian, just as an individual has his. One must be a Christian according to the standard of the world, not to be a fool in its judgment. The world has abstracted from Chris- tianity a part of its folly; it has rendered it almost wise, at least, in practice ; so that, even in the midst of a Christian nation, the Christian who accepts all that folly passes for a foolish man. It is not, then, necessary to go amongst the Mussulmans, or the followers of Budh, to hear ourselves denominated insane on account of Christianity ; the occasion will never be wanting in Christen- dom, and even in the bosom of a people the most attached to the worship of their fathers. The folly of the cross will always spring from the book of the Gospel : it will always break out in the pro- fession and conduct of those who have accepted it earnestly and without restriction. The Christian, consequently, will always be tempted to dissemble his faith ; and it will therefore ever be one of his duties to brave popular contempt, and confess himself tainted with that sublime folly. But if any one supposes that the whole matter at issue turns on confessing his faith in Christ once for all, he is greatly mistaken. Christianity is something more than an assemblage of dogmas ; it is especially the principle of a new life. The folly of the Christian does not always consist in the doctrines he adopts. It consists more, much more, in the maxims which serve to regulate his con- duct. He is foolish in practice as well as in theory. He separates himself from other men in a thousand ways, the greater part of which, I allow, are not visible, but remain secret between himself and God. But it is impossible that this separation should not sometimes be obvious and public ; if he does not seek occasions for it, it is certain he will not avoid them. The same Christianity i t> '/'OLLY OF THE TltUTH. which teaches him maxims inconceivable to the rest of the world, teaches him to follow them without fear and dissimulation. Such courage is the first law and the first mark of a true Christian. Every Christian is, first of all, a witness; every witness is, by anticipation, a martyr. Christianity has effected this revolution in the world. It has given to truth a dignity independent of time and numbers. It has required that truth should be believed and respected for itself. It has claimed that every one should be able to judge of its merits ; that the most ignorant and the most isolated should find in himself suificient reasons to believe ; that in order to decide regarding it, he should not enquire if others around him believe it, but that he should be ready, when occasion requires, to be alone in his opinion, and to persist in it. So many men make no use of their con- science ; so man}- who practise a duty would not even suspect that it was a duty, if they found that opinion prevaleut ; so many who have no doubt respecting a duty, do not expect to recognize and discharge it until they see it performed by those of their fellow- men in whom they have the greatest confidence ! They believe so much in man, so much in numbers, so much in antiquity, and su little in truth ! But Christianity was designed to produce a race of men who should ^believe in truth, not in numbers nor in years, nor in force, — men, consequently, who should be ready to pass for fools. ******** O, then, let us daily ask God to form around us an immense void, in which we shall see nothing but him, — a profound silence, in which we shall hear nothing but him ! Let us beseech him to raise our souls to an elevation where fear of the judgments of the world shall not reach us ; where the world itself shall disappear and sink away beneath ! Let us entreat him to envelope us in his radiance and inspire us with the holy folly of his gospel, and es- pecially to penetrate our souls with a love "to Him that hath loved us," so intense and dominant that it would cost us more to descend from that height to the world than it has cost us to ascend thither from the world. Let us not only pray without ceasing, but let us unceasingly watch, unceasingly strive ; no means, no effort is too much to disengage us from the restraints of worldly wisdom, to make us die to that vain wisdom, and enable us to taste, in the bosom of God, the plenitude of truth and the plenitude of life, THE GENIUS OF THE GOSPEL. "And I saw another angel fly in the midst of heaven, having the everlasting gospel to preach unto them that dwell on the earth, and to every nation and kindred and tongue and people."— Rev., xiv, 6. AMONG sceptics who resist, with the greatest pertinacity, the arguments of the defenders of Christianity, there are none, doubtless, who would not be ready to declare that a sensible proof, an authentic miracle, would not find them incorrigible. Show us. they will say to you, what St. John is said to have seen, " an angel flying in the midst of heaven, having the everlasting gospel to preach to them that dwell on the earth, and to every nation and tribe and tongue and people/' and Ave shall be converted. This is to promise what is beyond their power ; miracles do not convert ; the sight of them can only convince the understanding ; the heart needs that demonstration of power which belongs only to the Spi- rit of God. But if miracles, clear and well attested, are capable of producing on the mind an impression which predisposes it to receive the message of salvation, let sceptics cease to demand the vision of St. John ; they have something of still greater value ; that vision is an image of which they have the reality. They can, as well as St. John, and in some sense better than he, see that angel who bears through the heavens the everlasting gospel to those that dwell on the earth. I mean that they can discover in Christianity a character of perpetuity and universality, as striking at least to the reason as the sight of an angel flying in the expanse of heaven would be to the eyes and the imagination. If they re- quire a miracle here is one. For to what will they give the name of a miracle, if they refuse it to a fact unique in its kind, incon- conceivable in its production, contrary to all probabilities, inac- cessible to all induction, and which before seeing it realized, every one would have judged impossible? Let them lend us such attention . - THZ TEL. iH hope that the facts we are abo^" -I'i an impression on them as will indue? them to extend their i: 1 inform thems speL Thi~ -=:on. Is ir in the na- ture of things that a doctrine, the principal id h are not red by mere reason, i lire in all times, and be introduced among all nations: and ie, in all times and in all nations : morality -uxiliary of the progress of the human m. Have the goo: but recollect, that the examples imerated in my The doctrine under consideration i ther be demonstrated nor discovered by reason. It is one capable : bracing all times and all nations. It is one which takes the principal direction of the conduct of those who embrace it It is one favourable to the progress of the human mind and the onward march of civiliz :.:... — : ich of which is esse: . doctrine common to all times and all nations, that of the existence of God, and the immortality of the soul ; two inseparable truths, the union of which forms what is called natural religion. It is natural, in fact, because nature appe here . the hams.:. here one of the first products f . one of the fir- •rctual activity. It is th- .3 pie and so rapid that the r a disappears, and the soul appears to obtain it by intuition. It is universal, if you pk because it is natural. I: ever, a natural bat m which we demand this character of universal::}.- As soon as nattuv. forms, unanimr do human power can ral religion, the instant it beco: be capable of being the religion of the human race. 2 1 By a t or means ed in set — or what, in theological phrase, is sometimes called dogmatic. — T. ; W ;.••:. 1 who, with all his enormities, had some political sa- iroc which atheism was working in France, he induced . THE GENIUS OF THE GOSPEL. 79 But it will be said, if a positive religion cannot be universal, at least it may regain on the side of time what it loses on the side of space. Suppose this granted ; but it must be acknowledged, that it is only half of the condition we have proposed. We have not spoken of all times only, but of all places; so that after we have been shown a positive religion, mistress of a corner of the globe, from the origin of the world till now, we should have a right to reject such an example. We accept it, nevertheless, by way of accommodation, and for want of a better. There are religious doctrines of an amazing antiquity. With some variations in the details, the elementary principles are permanent, and these appear unchangeable, as the physical constitution of the nation that pro- fesses them, immovable as the soil that bears them. If they are destitute of universality, perpetuity ought, in a certain sense, to be accorded to them. But are they competent, as I have required, to serve as a moral force ; and are they favourable to the natural and progressive development of the human race? No; some of them have no harmony Avith life ; others pervert the heart, and the social relations; and all of them chain the mind in immovable forms. All present the phenomenon of a people who, surprised, as one might believe, by a sudden congelation, preserve, in the most advanced periods of their existence, the attitude, manners, opinions, cos- tume, institutions, language, in a word, the whole manner of life, in the midst of which they were seized by that sudden catalepsy. If, on the other hand, any one claims that it is the spirit of the people that has determined their faith, and that their manners have made their religion, then this religion is not such as we have doctrines of the existence of a Supreme Being, and of the immortality of the soul. The reign of absolute infidelity, and the worship of reason, in the person of a beautiful but lewd woman, brought from one of the brothels of Paris, was of short duration. But deism, in a positive form, could not dished by all the efforts of the government backed by the philoso- The theophilanthropists, as they called themselves, aided by the public funds, opened some fifteen or twenty churches, delivered orations, and sang hymns, in honour of the Deity and the immortality of the soul, but the attendance became less and less, and the interest, even of those who wen- most enthusiastic in the project, gradually declined. So that, by the end of 1786, scarcely a vestige of an organized system of religious belief and worship remained in France. The whole scheme was abandoned as hopeless No! Deism cannot be established as a positive religion. It fails to meet the wants of the human soul ; it gives no assurance of the divine favour, and supplies no pledge of a blessed immortality. — T. 80 THE GENIUS OF THE GOSPEL. required, namely, a doctrine capable of influencing the life, and determining the conduct. In going over the different known religions which divide the nations, we shall find none that meets all the conditions we have laid down. Mohammedism, besides owing its progress to the power of the sword, fails to favour the progressive advancement of the human mind, nay more, represses it. It is not suited to pene- trate into all countries ; because it necessarily carries along with it polygamy and despotism, antagonisms of civilization. The reli- gion of Hindostan fails to be moral, and is unfavourable to culture and liberty ; every where it would need its own earth and sky, for which alone it is made. Universality is equally wanting to the Jewish religion, for it does not desire it, nay more, repels it. It is a religion entirely national and local ; beyond Palestine it is exiled. The deficiency which exists in all the religions we have just named exists also in all others. They want universality, perpetuity, morality, and sympathy with progress. Such already is the answer to the question we have proposed ; for no positive religion is found which has united all the conditions enumerated. We may say, with some degree of confidence, that such a thing is not possible. If it were, would it not have hap- pened ? And if it has not happened, will it ever happen ? But even in consulting the nature of things, independent of the teachings of history, the same answer will be obtained. No man can give a religion to humanity. If natural religion be referred to, it is nature that gives it ; and all that a man can do is to give form to its dogmas, by reducing its teachings to order ; he can only re- store to humanity what he has received from it. But, is it a posi- tive religion which is referred to ; one, I mean, the dogmas of which human reason could not, of itself, have discovered? Then, I ask. what elevation of heart, of imagination, of reason, what stretch of genius, what wondrous divination, are supposed to belong to a man, to admit that the dogmas of his invention, the dogmas which nature lias not given, shall be received in all countries, shall pre- serve their adaptation in all times, shall be applicable to all the conditions of humanity and of society, in a word, shall be able to constitute and shall actually constitute the religion of the human ? ace ? It is with some degree of inconsiderateness that some men are THE GENIUS OF THE GOSPEL. 81 spoken of as advancing beyond their age, and impressing their own individual character upon generations. These are, most of the time, men who have better than others understood, reduced into forms more precise, and expressed with greater energy, the domi- nant opinions of their era. They have proved what their age car- ried in its bosom. They have concentrated, in the burning-glass of their genius, the rays of truth, which, scattered in the world, have not yet been able to set it on fire. But their genius, the faithful and powerful expression of a time and a countiy, which have made them what they are, cannot be as vast as the genius of humanity. Men have done the work of men, partial, relative, limited. But let an individual, isolating himself from his country, from his time, nay more, from his individuality, divine the fact, the idea, the doctrine which shall renew, convert, and vivify man- kind in all times and in all places, — such an one is not a man, he is a God ! Observe particularly that I do not require that his religion shall become in fact the religion of all times, of all places, and of all men. In the first instance, he must have time to establish it ; and we do not claim that at the beginning of its career it shall conquer the whole world. Further, we have not all time before us ; and in as much as the future fate of the world cannot be fully ascer- tained, we are not able to say with precision that a thing is of all time. Finally, all true religion supposes freedom, and free- dom supposes the possibility of resistance on the part of indivi- duals. We shall demand only, and the matter must be thoroughly understood, that a sufficient number of experiments have proved that the doctrine in question is such that no climate, no degree of culture, no form of politics, no circumstances of time or place, no physical or moral constitution, a barrier to it, are a fatal limit which it cannot pass ; or to express ourselves more briefly, that it correspond to the universal and permanent wants of humanity, independent of all accidental, temporary, and local circumstance-. If there is a religion of God upon the earth, it ought to have this character of universality and perpetuity. For who can doubt that the love of God embraces all mankind ; or suppose that he could not speak to all mankind? In such a case, God cannot have in view one time, one country, one people only, but all who possess the heart of humanity. When he speaks, it is for the whole hu- 82 THE GENIUS OF THE GOSPEL. man race. Should it please him to distinguish one nation among the nations of the earth, it would yet be for the sake of the human family. What he might say to that people in particular would not have an infinite and eternal range ; that alone would be invested with such a character, which, through that separate nation, would be addressed to universal humanity. His revelation would not constitute the fleeting existence of one nation, except, by this means, to form a people taken out of all the nations of the earth, a spiritual people, a nation of holy souls. We return, then, to the proposition, and say : If such a religion exists, it must be from God. It is on this ground, that is to say, its universality, that we have already acknowledged natural reli- gion to be from him. But if, besides natural religion, there is in the world a positive religion, invested with the character we have in view, we maintain that it also is from God. Because it belongs to God alone to form an adequate conception of man, whom he has made, and meet the wants of his entire nature ; because, in con- sequence of this, God only knows how to speak to man ; because he is confined to no places, and restricted by no circumstances. And if the arbitrary appearance of the principle of a positive reli- gion arrests our attention, let us reflect that what is necessary for God, and a consequence of his nature, may very well appear arbi- trary to us ; and that what is strange and unexpected in his reve- lations is not less the necessary and indispensable result of his per- fections, the faithful and spontaneous imprint of his character and relations to the world. Let us, then, hold for certain, that if there is in the world a positive religion, which, fitted to control the life, and favourable to the progressive advancement of the human mind, finds no limits in any circumstance of time and place, such a religion is from God. Tli is being settled, let us enquire if there is such a religion. A little more than eighteen hundred years ago, a man appeared in an obscure corner of the world. I do not say that a long suc- cession of predictions had announced the advent of this man; that :i lung train of miracles had marked, with a divine seal, the nation from which he was to spring, and the word itself which announced him ; that from the heights of a far distant future he had projected his shadow to the feet of our first parents exiled from Paradise; THE GENIUS OF TT1E GOSPEL. 83 in a word, that he was encircled and authenticated by an imposing array of proofs. I only say that lie preached a religion; it is not natural religion; — the doctrines of the existence of God and the immortality of the soul are every where taken for granted in his words, but never proved. They do not consist of ideas deduced from the primitive concessions of reason. What he teaches, what forms the foundation and essence of his system, are things which confound reason; things to which reason can find no access. It proclaims a God upon earth, a God-man, a God poor, a God cru- cicfied. It proclaims vengeance overwhelming the innocent, pardon raising the guilty from the deepest condemnation, God "himself the victim of man, and man forming one and the same person with God. It proclaims a new birth, without which man cannot be saved. It proclaims the sovereignty of the grace of God, and the entire freedom of man. 1 I do not soften its teachings. I present them in their naked form. I seek not to justify them. No, — you can, if you will, be astonished and alarmed at these strange dogmas ; — do not spare yourselves in this particular. But when you have wondered suf- ficiently at their strangeness, I shall present another thing for your 1 "When our author speaks of God as a victim, and subjected to suffering, he must always be understood as referring to God manifest in the flesh, that is, to Jesus Christ in his whole nature as human and divine. Some, I know, object to such expressions as those in the text, as being unphiloso- phical and unscriptural. But in this they may be mistaken. Our philo- sophy of the divine nature is exceedingly shallow and imperfect. God is not the cold and impassive Being which it too often represents him. Per- fect and ever blessed he certainly is ; but that he is incapable of every thing like sentiment or emotion is exceedingly questionable. Such is not the view given of him in the Scriptures. Are we not expressly informed that the Word was made flesh, that he might suffer death for every man, and that it behoved him in all things to be made like unto his brethren ? If he suffered at all did not his whole being suffer ? Was there not a profound and mysterious sympathy between his human and his divine natures ? .How else can we account for the infinite value and efBcacy attached to his suf- ferings and death ? How else explain the adoring reverence of the primi- tive church in view of his agony in the garden and on the cross ? Besides, suffering is by no means an evidence of imperfection ; nay, the experience of it may be necessary to the highest felicity, on the part even of pure and perfect natures. In this respect, the sinless and ndorable Saviour waa made perfect through sufferings, as much, perhaps, for his own sake as for ours. But this is a subject which philosophy does not understand ; and we can only say devoutly, " Great is the mvstery of -godliness ; God was mani- fest in the flesh ! "— T. 84 TUE GENIUS OF THE GOSPEL. astonishment. These strange doctrines have conquered the world. Scarcely made known in poor Jndea, they took possession of learned Athens, gorgeous Corinth, and proud Rome. They found confes- sors in shops, in prisons, and in schools, on tribunals and on thrones. Vanquishers of civilization, they triumphed over bar- barism. They caused to pass under the same yoke the degraded Roman and the savage Scandinavian. The forms of social life have changed, — society has been dissolved and renewed, — these have endured. Nay more, the church which professed them has endeavoured to diminish their power, by beginning to corrupt their purity. Mistress of traditions and depository of knowledge, she has used her advantages against the doctrines she ought to have defended; but they have endured. Every where, and at all times, in cottages and in palaces, have they found souls to whom a Re- deemer was precious and regeneration necessary. Moreover, no other system, philosophical or religious, has endured. Each made its own era, and each era had its own idea; and, as a celebrated writer has developed it, the religious sentiment, left to itself, select- ed forms adapted to the time, which it broke to pieces when that time had passed away. But the doctrine of the cross continued to re-appear. If it had been embraced only by one class of per- sons, that even were much, that perhaps were inexplicable; but you find the followers of the cross among soldiers and citizens, among the rich and the poor, the bold and the timid, the wise and the ignorant. This doctrine is adapted to all, every where, and in all times. It never grows old. Those who embrace it never find themselves behind their age ; they understand it, they arc un- derstood by it; they advance with it, and aid its progress. The religion of the cross appears no where disproportionate to civili- zation. On the contrary, civilization advances in vain; it always finds Christianity before it. Do not suppose that Christianity, in order to place itself in har- mony with the age, will complacently leave out a single idea. It is from its inflexibility that it is strong; it has no need to give up anything in order to be in harmony with whatever is beautiful, legitimate, and true; for Christianity is itself the type of perfection. It is the same to-day as in the time of the Reformers, in the time of the fathers of the church, in the time of the apostles and of Jesus Christ. Nevertheless it is not a'religion which flatters the THE GENIUS OF THE GOSPEL. 85 natural man ; and worldlings, in keeping at a distance from it, fur- nish sufficient evidence that Christianity is a system foreign to their natures. Those who dare not reject it are forced to soften it down. They divest it of its barbarisms, its myths, as they are pleased to call them ; they render it even reasonable, — but, strange to say, when it is reasonable, it has no power ; and in this, is like one of the most wonderful creatures in the animal world, which, when it loses its sting, dies. Zeal, favour, holiness, and love dis- appear with these strange doctrines; the salt has lost its savour, and none can tell how to restore it. But, on the other hand, do you not, in general, perceive that when there is a revival of these doctrines Christianity is inspired with new life, faith is re-animated, and zeal abounds? Do not ask, Upon what soil, or in what sys- tem, must grow these precious plants? You can reply in advance, that it is only in the rude and rough soil of orthodoxy, under the shadow of those which confound human reason, and from which it loves to remove as far as possible. This, then, among all the religions, is the only one which is eternally young. But perhaps physical nature will do what moral nature cannot. Perhaps climates will arrest that angel which carries the everlasting gospel through the heavens. Perhaps a certain corporeal organization may be necessary for the reception of the truth. But you may pass with it from Europe to Africa. from Ethiopia to Greenland, from the Atlantic to the Southern sea. Every where will this message be heard ; every where fill an ac- knowledged void; every where perfect and renew the life. The soul of the negro slave receives from it the same impressions as the soul of Isaac Newton. The lofty intelligence of the one and the stupidity of the other have at least one great thought in common. And let it be well remarked, the effects are every where the same. The cross sheds a light that illumines all. As if by instinct, not by painful reasoning, they reach every where the same conclu- sions, recognize the same duties, and, in different forms, commence the same life. Wherever Christianity is introduced, civilized man draws nearer to nature, while the savage rises towards civiliza- tion; each in his turn, and an inverse sense, makes some steps towards a common centre, which is that of true sociability and true civilization. It will, perhaps, be objected, that this civilizing power of Chris- SO THE GENIUS OF THE GOSPEL. tianity is found only in the sublime morality of the Gospel ; and that is not by the positive doctrines, but rather in spite of them, that savages are converted, and then civilized. This assertion is false in whatever aspect it may be viewed. In readily conceding to the evangelical morality a decided supe- riority to all other systems of morals, we wish it to be observed, that this superiority holds less with reference to the precepts than their basis or motives ; in other words, the mysterious and divine facts which distinguish Christianity as a positive religion. The Gospel has not invented morality ; many of its finest maxims were, for a long time previous, in circulation in the world. The Gospel has not so much promulged them as placed them on a new founda- tion, and quickened them by a new spirit. The glory of the Gos- pel consists less in announcing a new morality than in giving power to practise the old. But let us not dispute. AVe admit that the morality of the Gos- pel contains many things absolutely new;- but it must be conceded that there was in the world, and particularly in the writings of the ancient sages, as fine a morality; and that, if morality has a power within itself, an intrinsic virtue, we should expect to see practice in some proportion to theory. But in former times, now, and always, in each man, and in humanity generally, we are struck with a singular disparity between principles and conduct ; and are constrained to acknowledge, that in this sphere, at least, what is done responds poorly to what is known ; and that the life by no means harmonizes with convictions. The knowledge of morality is not morality; and the science of duty is not the practice of duty; These general remarks are fully confirmed by the history of the evangelization of the heathen. If one fact is known and acknow- ledged, it is that it has never been by the preaching of morality, — not even of evangelical morality, — that their hearts have been gained. Kay, it is not more so by the teaching of natural religion. Tious Christians, deceiving themselves on this point, wished to conduct the people of Greenland methodically by natural to re- vcuhi! religion, As long as they rested in these first elements their preaching did not affect, did not gain a single soul; but the moment that, casting away their human method, they decided to follow that <»| Christ and of God, the barriers fell before them, and once more the foil* of the cross was found to be wiser than the TILE GENIUS OF THE GOSPEL. 87 wisdom of man. The schools teach us to proceed from the known to the unknown, from the simple to the composite.; but in the kingdom of God things occur which derange all our ideas. There we must begin at once with the unknown, the composite, the ex- traordinary. It is from revealed religion that man ascends to natural religion. He is transported at a single bound into the centre of mysteries. He is shown God-man, God crucified, before he is shown God in glory. He is shown the mass before the de- tails, the end before the beginning. Do you wish to know why? It is that the true road to knowledge in religion is not from God to man, but from man to God 5 that before knowing himself he can- not know God ; that the view of his misery and of his sins conducts him to the atonement, and the atonement reveals to him, in their fulness, the perfections of his Creator. It is, to repeat the cele- brated saying of Augustine, that "man must descend into the hell of his own heart before he can ascend to the heaven of God." The Christian religion is not merely the knowledge of God, but the knowledge of the relations of man with God. It is the view of these relations which sheds the most light upon the character and attributes of God himself. And hence it is quite correct to say that revealed religion, which is precisely the discovery of these relations, conducts to natural religion, namely, to that which is more elementary, to the idea of the infinite, whence natural religion is derived, to religious feeling and the conceptions which are called natural, but which ought to be called supernatural. These are ordinarily but little familiar, seldom present, and not altogether natural to our minds. In fact, how many men has the Gospel taken from the depths of materialism, and conducted, by the way cf Christian doctrine, to a belief in the existence of God, and the immortality of the soul. 1 1 The following, taken from the Biblical Repository, Vol. 1, second series, p. 383, is a striking illustration of what our author asserts : — " Francis Junius, whom, at his death, it was remarked by Scaliger, the whole world lamented as its instructor, was recovered from atheism, in a remarkable manner, by simply perusing St. John, i, 1-5. Persuaded by his father to read the New Testament, 'At first sight,' he says, 'I fell unexpectedly on that august chapter of St. John the evangelist, "In th ••■ beginning was the Word," etc. I read part of the chapter, and was so struck witb what I read that I hostantly perceived the divinity of the subject, and the authority and majesty of the Scripture to surpass greatly all human eloquence. I shuddered in my body, my mind was confounded, and I was 8S THE GENIUS OF THE GOSPEL. It is, then, the doctrines, the mysteries, the paradoxes of the Gospel, Ave must carry to the savage, if we would gain his heart to natural religion, from which he is estranged, and to pure mo- rality, of which he knows still less. But even if our adversaries could reverse all this, they Avould not the less remain under the pressure of an overwhelming difficulty. If natural religion and morality suffice to make converts, will they not suffice also to make preachers ? Find us, among those who do not believe in the posi- tive doctrines of Christianity, men disposed to undertake that la- borious and dangerous mission. Come, let the philosophers and rationalists bestir themselves ; let us see their faith by their works ; let their zeal serve to prove, to corroborate their system; let them, from love of morality and natural religion, quit parents, friends, fortune, habits, plunge into ancient forests, traverse burning plains of sand, brave the influences of a deadly climate, in order to reach, convert, and save some souls ! Might they not do for the king- dom of God half of what so many courageous travellers have done and suffered for science, or the temporal prosperity of their coun- try? What! no one, sir! no one even feel! This appeal has not moved a single soul of those friends of religion and morality, for whom the Cross is folly ! Why, it would appear that they had no love for God, no care for souls, none of the pious proselytism found among the partizans of the strange doctrines of the fall of man, a bloody expiation, and a new birth ! My brethren, does this evi- dence satisfy you, and do you believe that there can be any other means than by these doctrines, of establishing the kingdom of God on the earth? Thus Christianity is clearly the positive re- ligion, which combines all the conditions enumerated in our ques- tion. These are not arguments Ave present to the adversaries of Chris- tianity ; they are facts. They have only to recognize this strik- ing characteristic of Christianity, to see, with us, that angel who Hies through the heavens, haA r ing the everlasting Gospel to preach to all that dwell upon the earth, and to every tribe and tongue and people. These are facts which we claim to offer them. If they are false let them be proved so. If they are true let any one dispute so strongly affected all that day, that I h;irdly knew who I myself was ; bat thou, Lord my God, didsr. remember me in thy boundless mercy, and receive me, a lost sheep, into thy fold.' " THE GENIUS OF THE GOSPEL. 89 the conclusion, if he can. Let him explain by natural causes, a phenomenon unique in its kind. Let him assign, if he can, a limit to that power, that influence of Christianity. But will any one give himself the trouble of doing this ? In truth, it is more easy to shut the eyes, and, repeating with confidence some hearsays, to assure us that, according to the best information, Christianity has gone by ; that it has had its era to make, and has made it, — its part to play, and has played it ; and that " the only homage we can render it now is to throw flowers upon its tomb." This tomb would be that of the human race. Christianity yet preserves the world from the wrath of God. It is, perhaps, with a view to its propagation, that events are pressing onward, and that nations are agitated Avith a fearful crisis. Shall a few sceptics, with frivolous hearts, give the lie to the most high God, and the immense pres- sure of circumstances prove a false standard of providence? Lei us pray for the progress of the everlasting gospel, and the conver- sion of those proud spirits who till now have disdained to recognize it. Let us pray that it may constantly become more precious to ourselves, and that its laws may be as sacred as its promises are sweet. 90 VI. NATUBAL FAITH. " Blessed are they that have not seen, and yet have believed." — Jous, xx, 29. THE apostles did not profess to convey to the world any thing but a message, good news, the news of that fact which the angels announced to the shepherds of Bethlehem, in these words : " Glory to God in the highest ; on earth peace, good-will to men! 1 ' Faithful but not indifferent messengers, deeply moved themselves by the good news they carried to the world, they spoke of it with all the warmth of joy and love. Preachers of righteousness, they urged with force»the practical consequences of the facts they an- nounced, and in their admirable instructions, a leading sentiment, gratitude, was expanded into a multitude of duties and virtues, the combination of which forms the purest morality. But at this point their ministry terminated ; and certainly they made no pretension of introducing a new philosophy into the world. Nevertheless they have done so, and those who, in modern times, devote them- selves to ascertain what ideas are concealed under the great facts of the gospel, to penetrate into its spirit, and, if we may so ex- press ourselves, construct the system of it, cannot refrain from ad- miration, while reflecting on the connection of parts of that great whole, their perfect harmony with one another, and the harmony of each, with the permanent characteristics and inextinguishable wants of human nature. This philosophical character of the Gos- pel would have been striking, even if the apostles had appeared to impress it voluntarily upon their instructions; but how much more is this the case, and how well fitted to make us perceive the divinity of the Gospel, when we sec that its writers had no consciousness of the fact, and that it was quite in spite of them- selves, so to speak, that it was stamped upon their work ! This philosophical character would be striking even in simple religion, NATURAL FAITH. 01 one apparently rational, approaching, in a word, to natural reli- gion, as much as a positive one can ; but how much more striking it is, when we consider that this religion is a complete tissue of strange doctrines, the first view of which appals the reason. If these doctrines, so arbitrary in appearance, involve ideas eminently natural, and a system perfectly consistent, who will not be struck with it ; and who will not wish to ascertain by what secret reason the most sublime springs from the folly of the cross, philosophy from dogma, and light from mystery ? No where, as it appears to us, is this philosophical character of Christianity so vividly impressed as on the doctrine of the Gospel concerning faith. Not only is the general necessity of faith recog- nized, as in all religions ; but this principle holds a place in it, enjoys an importance, and exhibits effects which prove that the Gospel alone has seized the principle in all its force, and applied it in all its extent ; in a word, that it alone has thoroughly discovered and fully satisfied the wants of human nature. The following pro- position, then, will form a subject worthy of our attention. The religions of man and the religion of Jesus Christ are, with refer- ence to the principle of faith, philosophically true, with this excep- tion, that in the first there is only a feeble and unprofitable begin- ning of truth, and in the second, the religion of Jesus Christ, it is found in all its plenitude and in all its power. To prove this pro- position, we propose to develope, in its various applications, the language of our Saviour : " Blessed are they who have not seen and yet have believed." I remark, first, that human religions have rendered homage to philosophical truth, in placing faith at their foundation ; or rather, that they are themselves a homage to that truth, inasmuch as, by their existence alone, they have proclaimed the necessity and dig- nity of faith. This is the first idea we have to develope. The necessity and dignity of faith ; — nothing can be more philo- sophical, nothing more reasonable than this idea. And yet, if we are to believe vulgar declamation, and the sayings of people of the world, faith can be the portion only of weak minds and diseased imaginations. On the contrary, it is in a certain degree the com- mon heritage of the human race ; and in the highest degree the peculiar gift of elevated characters, of noble spirits, and the source of whatever in the world bears the impress of greatness. 92 NATURAL FAITH. The entire life of man, considered in its essence, is composed of three things — thought, feeling, action. Feeling is the motive of action ; knowledge is the point of departure for both, and there- fore is the basis of life. From this every thing proceeds, to this every thing returns. Before all, it is necessary to know ; but the first glance enables us to see how little proportion there is between the means of knowledge and the multiplicity of its objects. It is impossible, indeed, that Ave should see every thing, and have expe- rience in all the cases in which knowledge is desirable. A vast chasm, then, very frequently extends between knowledge and action ; over that abyss a bridge is thrown by faith, which, resting on a given fact, upon a primary motion, extends itself over the void, and conveys us to the other side. Some kind of experience, physical or moral, a view external, or internal, of observation or intuition, is the point of departure, or the reason of faith. This first fact itself neither demands nor requires faith ; but its conse- quences, its logical deductions, are not embodied, do not become a reality for man but by means of faith, which presents them to his mind, and constructs for him a world beyond that which personal experience has revealed. We are accustomed to oppose reason and faith to each other j we ought rather to say that the one perfects the other, and that they are two pillars, one of which could not without the other sus- tain life. Man is pitied because he cannot know every thing, or rather because he cannot see every thing, and that he is thence compelled to believe. But this is to complain of one of his privi- leges. Direct knowledge does not call into requisition the living forces of the soul ; it is a passive state, honoured by no spontan- eity. But in the act of faith (for it is an act, and not a state,) the BOnl is in some sort creative ; if it does not create the truth, it draws it from itself, appropriates, realizes it. Under its influence an idea becomes a fact, a fact lor ever present. Thought, support- ed by a power of the soul, then manifests all its dignity in reveal- ing its true independence ; man multiplies his life, extends his universe, and attains the perfeel stature of a thinking being. His dignity is. derived from believing, not from knowing. Faith is invested With a character still more elevated, when it takes its point of departure from the word of a witness, whose soul ours has penetrated, and recognized its authority. Then, under NATURAL FAITH. 93 a new name, that of confidence, it attaches itself to the noblest elements of our nature, sympathy, gratitude, and love ; it is the condition of the social relations, and constitutes their true beauty. Far from contradicting reason, it is the fact of a sublime reason, and one might say that it is to the soul what genius is to the intel- lect. When the apostles recognized, by his words, their risen Master, when Thomas, sceptical as to their testimony, -wished to put his finger into the wounds of Jesus — who was rational, if not the apostles, and irrational, if not Thomas? And, notwithstand- ing, for how many people would not Thomas be the type of pru- dence, if he had not become, by tradition, that of doubt? Let us resume. That power which supplies evidence, that power which, at the moment when a man, advancing upon the ocean of thought, begins to lose his footing, and feels himself over- whelmed by the waves, lifts him up, sustains him, and enables him to swim through the foam of doubt to the pure and tranquil haven of certainty, is faith. It is by faith, according to the apostles (Heb., xi, 1), that what we hope for is brought nigh, and what we see not is made visible. It is faith which supplies the place of sight, the testimony of the senses, personal experience and mathe- matical evidence. 1 i The facts of which we have no personal knowledge or experience are, so to speak, without us. They have, what the Germans call, an objective but not a subjective reality. They exist, but, so far as we are concerned, might as well not exist. We cannot be said, in any proper sense of the word to possess them. How then do they become ours? By faith in the testimony of others is the common reply. But a mere belief, or a passive reception of testimony, would leave them as much without us as ever. They would exist for us, but not in us. But faith is an active principle. It seizes and appropriates the truth, and lodges it as a living element in the soul. It is thus, as our author shows, a sort of mental creation, giving, as it does, reality and power to the invisible and the future. " It is the sub- stance (realization) of things hoped for, the evidence (conviction, vision) of things not seen." By means of it we know what would otherwise be un- known, and do what would otherwise be undone. It is an energetic prin- ciple, and in the department of religion, " worketh by love, and overcometh the world." By its aid we are made to live, even while on earth, in the spiritual and eternal world. " We walk by faith, not by sight." Yet faith, as Vinet beautifully remarks, is the vision of the soul. " The want of sight she well supplies, She makes the pearly gates appear, Far into distant worlds she pries, And brings eternal glories near." — T 94 NATURAL FAITH. Faith is not the forced and passive adherence of a spirit vanquish- ed by proofs ; it is a power of the soul, as inexplicable in its prin- ciple as any of the native qualities which distinguish man amongst his fellow-creatures; a power which does not content itself with receiving the truth, but seizes it, embraces it, identifies itself with it, and permits itself to be carried by it towards all the consequences which it indicates or commands. Faith is not credulity; the most credulous man is not always he who believes the best. A belief, easily adopted, is as easily lost ; and the firmest convictions are generally those which have cost the most. Credulity is but the servile compliance of a feeble mind ; while faith demands the entire sphere and energy of the soul. Let us add, that it is a capacity and a function, the measure and intensity of which vary with individuals, while the direct evidence is for all equal and identical. Among the partizans of the same doctrine, and the equally sincere defenders of the same truth, some believe more strongly; the object of their faith is more real, — is nearer and more vividly present to their minds. "While others, whose conviction is full and free from doubts, do not possess so strong a conception, so vivid a view of the object of faith. It might be supposed that when reasoning has produced convic- tion, there can be no further use or place for faith. This is a mis- take. Reasoning leaves the truth without us. To become a part of our life, a part of ourselves, it requires to be vivified by faith. If the soul * concur not with the intellect, certainly the most legi- timate would want strength and vivacity. There is a courage of the intellect like the courage of the soul, and thoroughly to believe a strange truth supposes, in some cases, a power which all do not possess. In vain will some persons try to do this; for the conclu- sions to which they have come by a scries of logical deductions, with difficulty produce upon their minds an impression of reality. A great difference will always exist between reasoning and seeing, between drawing a conclusion and making an experiment. It would seem, after all, that the mind has yet need of sight; that it does not yet possess that strung and efficacious conviction which 1 Here, as in many oth< . the term soul is used in a peculiar ""1 restrict* d sent . .'<- signifying the sentimental and imaginative part of our nature. — T. NATURAL FAITH. 95 it derives from a sensible impression; and it is for this that faith is useful; it is a sort of sight. Moreover, even when we have ga- thered together all the elements of certainty, the most satisfactory reasoning does not always in itself secure perfect repose to our minds. • It might be said that, in the case of many persons, the more the road from the premises to the conclusion was long and circuitous, the more their conviction loses in fulness, as if it were fatigued by its wanderings, and had arrived exhausted at the end of its reasoning. Often will an obstinate doubt come to place itself in the train of the most logical deductions, a peculiar doubt, which brings no proofs, which makes no attempt to legitimate itself, but which, after all, throws a shadow over our best acquired convic- tions. When it is not born from within, it comes from without ; spread in the crowd that surrounds us, it besieges us with the mass of all strange unbeliefs. It is not known how difficult it is to be- lieve in the midst of a crowd which does not believe. Here is a noble exercise of faith ; here its grandeur appears. This faith in contested truths, when it is calm, patient, and modest, is one of the essential attributes of all those men who have been great in "the order of minds." What is it that gives so much sublimity, in our imaginations, to the great names of Galileo, Descartes, and Bacon, unless it be their faith in the truths with which they had enriched their minds? A Newton reigns with majesty over the Avorld of science, but he reigns without combat ; his image is that of a sovereign, not of a hero. But we feel more than admiration for the great names I have mentioned ; gratitude, mingled with tenderness and respect, is the only sentiment which can become us. Our soul thanks them for not having doubted, for having preserved their faith in the midst of universal dissent, and for having heroically dispensed with the adherence of their contempo- raries. Shall I say it even? Yes, but to our shame. Faith finds its use even in the facts of personal experience. Such is our mind, such, at least, is it become, that it distinguishes between external and internal experience, and yielding without hesitation to the testimony of the senses it costs it an effort to yield to the testimony of consciousness. It requires submission, and by consequence, a species of faith, to admit those primitive truths which it carries within it, which have no antecedents, which bring no other Avar- n \t; ka:. FAITH. rant but their own existence, which cannot be proved, but which are felt [nresistible in their nature, still some require an effort in order to believe them. Have we not seen some such who have endeavoured to draw their notions of justice from those of utility, ick, by this circuit, to matter, and consequently to deal experience? 1 It might be said that it was painful to them to see the road to knowledge shortened before them, that they fcted the absence of that circuitous path which God wished to spare them; and it is this strange prejudice that obliges us, in ie sort, to do violence to the nature of things, and exhibit, as an act of faith, what is only a manifestation of evidence. II twever this may be, faith, that is to say in all possible spheres the vision of the- invisible, and the absent brought nigh, is the the soul, and the energy of life. AVe do not go too far laying that it is the point of departure for all action ; since to act is to quit the firm position of the present, and stretch the hand into the future. But this, at least, is certain, that faith is the source of everything in the eyes of man which bears a character of dignity and force. Vulgar souls wish to see, to touch, to grasp: others have the eye of faith, and they are great. It is always by having faith in others, in themselves, in duty, or in the Divinity, that men have done great things. Faith has been, in all time, the ngth of the feeble and the salvation of the miserable. Tn great 1 Our author lure refers to the sensual philosophy of such men as Con- dillac and Belyetius, who, taking Locke's idea that all our knowledge ia de- rived from sensation and reflection, have carried it out to the most extreme and absurd consequences, proving thus that there must be Borne defect in t in- lyatem of Locke, or at Least in his method of stating it. These material and Epicurean philosophers refer all our notions of justice to utility, all our feelings of reverei , affection, and gratitude, to mere emotion and ition. In their analysis, the loftiest sentiments are reduced to the images and impressions of material forms. The very soul is materialized, and il ternal God is either blotted from existence, or represented as the ry and infinite refinement of physical existence. The Aid..- Condillac, Who was a worthy man, ami a beautiful writer, r intended U ts this, but his successors booh ran down his in to absolute atheism, which, for a long time, was the prevalent phi- aing to prevail there : still. even the spiritual philosophy is liable to run t<> the same extreme as gross materialism. Tie- great difficulty with such philosophers as Cousin and others, is, that th-y have not the fear of God before then- eyes. Their i teal and irreligious ns the H and Voltaire. — T. NATURAL FA1TB. 97 crises, in grand exigencies, the favourable chance has always been for him who hoped against hope. And the greatness of individuals or of nations may be measured precisely by the greatness of their faith. It was by faith that Leonidas, charged with three hundred men for the salvation of Greece, encountered eight hundred thousand Persians. His country had sent him to die at Thermopylae. He died there. What he did was by no means reasonable, according to ordinary views. All the probabilities were against him ; but in throwing into the balance the weight of his lofty soul, and three hundred heroic deaths, he did violence to fortune. His death, as one has happily said,, was " well laid out." Greece, united by so great an example, pledged herself to be invincible. And the same spirit of faith — faith, I mean, in her own power — was the prin- ciple of all those actions in that famous Persian war which secured the independence of Greece. What was it that sustained, amid the wastes of the ocean, that intrepid mortal who has given us a new world ? It was an ardent faith. His spirit, convinced, had already touched America, had already trodden its shores, had there founded colonies and states, and conveyed by a new road, shorter though indirect, the religion of Jesus Christ to the regions of the rising sun. 1 He led his com- panions to a known land ; he went home. Thus, from the moment that he received this conviction, with what patience have you seen him go from sovereign to sovereign, entreating them to accept a world ! He pursued, during long years, his sublime mendicity, pained by refusals, but never affected by contempt, bearing every thing, provided only that he should be furnished with the means of giving to some one that marvellous land which he had placed in the midst of the ocean. Amid the dangers of an adventurous navigation, amid the cries of a mutinous crew, seeing his death written in the angry eyes of his sailors, he keeps his faith, he lives by his faith, and asks only three days, the last of which presents to him his conquest. What power had the last Brutus at the moment when he aban- doned his faith ? From the time of his melancholy vision, pro- 1 That is to say, Columbus believed that by going west he would reach the eastern hemisphere by an easier yet more indirect route, and convey to those distant regions the blessings of Christianity.— T. 7 G 98 NATURAL FAITH. duced by a diminution of that faith, it might have been predicted that his own destiny and that of the republic were finished. He felt it himself ; it was with a presentiment of defeat that he fought at Philippi. And Bach a presentiment always realizes itself. The Etonians at their origin persuaded themselves that they could found an eternal city. This conviction was the principle of their disastrous greatness. Perpetuated from generation to generation, this idea couquered for them the world. An unheard-of policy caused them never to treat with an enemy except as conquerors. How much value did they attach to faith, -when, after the battle of Canns, they thanked the imprudent Varro for not having des- paired of the salvation of the republic ? It would certainly make a viciou3 circle to say, we believe in victory, therefore we shall conquer. But it is not always the people who reason the best that are the strongest ; and the power of man generally lies more in his conviction itself than in the goodness of the proofs by which it ia sustained. Whence is derived the long duration of certain forms of govern- ment and of certain institutions which to-day we find so little conformed to right and reason ? From the faith of the people, from a sentiment slightly rational and by no means clear, but ener- getic and profound, a sort of political religion. It is important that a government should be just, a dynasty beneficent, an institu- tion reasonable; but faith, up to a certain point, can take the place of these things, while these do not always supply the want of faith. The best institutions, in respect to solidity and duration, arc not the most conformed to theory ; faith preserves them better than reason ; and the most rational are not quite consolidated, until after the convictions of the mind have become the property of the heart, until the citizen, no longer searching incessantly for the reasons of submission, obeys by a certain lively and voluntary impulse, the principle of which is nothing but faith. Another thing still more surprising! faith often attaches itself to a man. There are great characters, powerful wills, to which bai been given ■ mysterious empire over less energetic natures. The greater part of men live by this faith in powerful men. A small number of individuals lead in their orbit the whole human race They do DOt weigh all the reasons which such men give ; they do not calculate all the chances which they develope ; they NATURAL FAITH. 90 do not judge them, they only believe in them. Many men, for decision, for action, for faith, follow the impulse of these privileged natures ! And who can sufficiently wonder at it ? Their feeble- ness is transformed into strength under that powerful influence, and they become capable, by sympathy, of things which, left to themselves, they would never have imagined, thought of, nor de- sired. Amid dangers, when fear is in all hearts, the crowd derive courage and confidence from the assured words of a man who has no one to trust but himself. Every one confides in him who con- fides in himself ; and his audacious hope is often the best resource in a moment of general anxiety. But we leave to others the task of multiplying examples. We are sure that from all points of history proofs arise of the truth we exhibit. Wherever man has given to the future the vividness of the present, and to the representations of his own mind the power of reality, wherever man believes in others, in himself, or in God, he is strong. I mean with a relative strength ; strong in one re- spect, feeble perhaps in all others ; strong for an emergency, feeble perhaps beyond it ; strong for good, strong also for evil. Human religions, then, have rendered homage to a truth, and comprehended a general want, in furnishing to man an object of faith, superior in its nature to all others. They have fully acknow- ledged that, in the rude path of life, man has not enough in what he knows and in what he sees ; that his most solid supports are in the region of the invisible, and that he will always be less strong by realities than belief. They give support to numerous souls who cannot confide in themselves ; and, by placing in heaven succour and hope, they govern from on high the events which envelope and protect the whole life. 100 VII. CHRISTIAN FAITH. •• Bt«Md an ti.y thai have not seen, and yet have believed."— John, xx, ?9. WE have sufficiently exalted human faith, let us abase it now. Having spoken of its marvels, let us recount its miseries. Human religions have recognized a want of our nature ; they have excited and cherished it, but they have deceived it. In the first place, they were pure inventions of man. Not that faith, considered as a motive of action and a source of energy, should absolutely need to repose upon the truth, but that what is false cannot last, and must, at the very least, give place to a new error. Faith in human inventions may be firm and lively so long as there is a proportion between them and the degree of existing mental culture. That epoch past, faith gradually evaporates, leaving dry, bo te speak, one class of society after another; the dregs of belief then remain with the dregs of the people ; the more elevated classes are sceptical or indifferent ; and the thinkers are fatalists or athe- ists, [f in some extraordinary cases the old religion continues, it ire hive Been in a preceding discourse, at the expence of in- tellei tiial advancement and every other kind of progress. These old religions, instead of giving energy to the soul, exhaust it; in- : of sustaining, oppress it. In another aspect, the faith of the heathen is still less commend- able It is entirely alien to the moral perfections of man ; often, indeed, directly opposed to it. It proposes to console man, it more frequently tyrannises o?er him. NTo where has it for its final aim to regenerate him; do where does it rise to the sublime idea of og him to find bis happiness in bis regeneration. Shall we say sngh1 respecting the faith of deists? Thoroughly to appreciate it in an epoch like ours, it ought, at the very first, CHRISTIAN FAITH. 101 to be divested of what it has involuntarily borrowed from the Gos- pel. The deism of our day is more or less tinctured with Chris- tianity; this is the reason why it does not, like that of antiquity, lose itself in fatalism. But whatever it may be, and taking it in its best forms, we must acknowledge, that the faith of the deist is only an opinion ; an opinion too, exceedingly vague and fluctuat- ing, and which, as a motive of action, does not avail so much as the faith of the heathen. Let deism, at least, have its devotees, who to please their divinity, permit themselves to be crushed be- neath the wheels of his car, and we will acknowledge that deism is a religion. Thus it is not without a kind of pleasure that we behold the sceptics of our day, not knowing what to do with their natural re- ligion, and haunted by a desire to believe, frankly addressing themselves to other objects, and, strange to tell, making for themselves a religion without a divinity. I do not speak here of the covetous, who, according to St. Paul, are real idolators, nor of the sensual, who, according to the same apostle, " make a god of their belly." It is of souls not sunk so low, souls who, less scepti- cal originally, have retained their craving, their thirst for the in- finite, but have mistaken its true import. This craving for God and religion, which unconsciously torments them, induces them to seek upon earth some object of adoration ; for it is necessary that man should adore something. It is difficult to say how they come to invest with a character of infinity objects whose finite nature must continually strike us ; but it is certain that this illusion is common. Some make science the object of their passionate devo- tion. Others evoke the genius of humanity, or, as they say, its ideal, devoting to its perfection and triumph, equally ideal, what- ever they possess of affection, of thought, and of power. Others, and, in our day, the greater number, have made for themselves a religion of political liberty. The triumph of certain principles of right in society is to them what the kingdom of God and eternal life are to the Christian. They have their worship, their devotion, their fanaticism ; and those very men who smile at the mysticism of Christian sects have also their mysticism, less tender and less spiritual, but more inconceivable. Thus, in spite of all their efforts to the contrary, and, notwith- standing all their pretensions, each one, we doubt not, has his re- 102 CHRISTIAN FAITH. ligiou, each has his worship, each deifies something, and when he knows not what idea to make divine he deifies himself. It was in this way that infidelity commenced in the garden of Eden ; and as such was its beginning, such also is its final result. In reality all other apotheoses, if we examine them carefully, come to this. In science, in reason, in liberty, it is himself to which man renders homage. But faith in oneself originates a particu- lar kind of worship, which it is important to notice. It consists of a circle, the most vicious and absurd. The subject and the object are confounded in the same individual ; the adorer adores himself, the believer believes in himself ; that is to say, since wor- ship always supposes a relation of inequality, the same individual finds himself inferior to himself; and since faith supposes an authority, the authority in this case submits to the same autho- rity. This confusion of ideas no longer strikes us when we have permitted the inconceivable idea to enter our minds, that we are something beside ourselves, — that the branch can subsist without the trunk ; whence it would follow that we must be at once above and beneath ourselves, while the same persons find themselves at once their own masters and their own servants. Thus live by choice and system some men who pass for sages. They have faith in themselves, in their wisdom, energy, will, and virtue ; and when this faith succeeds in rooting itself firmly in the heart, it is capable of producing, outwardly, very great effects. I have said great, but upon this point I refer you to Jesus Christ himself, who says, " that which is highly esteemed among men is abomination with God." Do you prefer this faith in ideas, and this faith in self, to the faith of the heathen in their imaginary gods ? And why not see that, independently of the pride and irreligion which characterize these two forms of faith, they are, even humanly speaking, ex- tremely defective? Here it is proper to notice the imprudence with which some have exalted subjective faith, according to the name given it by the schools, above objective faith, by intimating that the main thing is to believe firmly, whatever, in other re- be t he object of faith ; intending, doubtless, to apply this maxim only t<» the variations of the truth, not to the truth itself. But how easy is tin- transition from the one to the other. Why deny that the men of whom we have just been speaking possess, in CHRISTIAN FAITH. 103 a high degree, subjective faith ; and that such faith may be in them a quick and intense energy, fitted equally for resistance and move- ment ? But is this the only question to be asked respecting it ? Are we to be satisfied with its being powerful, without demanding an account of the manner in which it uses its power ? What, then, are the effects of this much vaunted faith of man in man ? Does it not leave in his interior nature immense deficiencies? Does it not cultivate it, to speak more plainly, in the wrong direction, and in a way to corrupt it ? When all the fluids of the body are conveyed to one part of the system, what becomes of the rest? When all the devotions of man are addressed to man, what be- comes of God? And what a monstrosity is that faith which has become erroneous and false to such an extent as this ? But do not believe that this faith, even in its own sphere, has all the prerogatives ascribed to it. There are, I allow, inflexible spirits, whom age only hardens, and who die in their superstition, fanatical, to the last, touching enlightenment, civilization, and free- dom. But the greater number disabuse and free themselves before they die. Some of them have been seen smiling at their former worship, and trampling under their feet with disdain the ruins of their former idols. The soul is easily satiated with what is not true; and disgust is then proportioned to previous enthusiasm. Ye will come to this, ye who believe in the regeneration of the human race by political freedom ; ye who have never known that, until man becomes the servant of God he can never enjoy true free- dom ; ye will groan over your dreams, when popular passions have perhaps coloured them with blood ! Ye will come to this, ye who are confident in your native generosity, in the liberality of your sentiments and the purity of your intentions, in a word, ye that have faith in yourselves. When a thousand humiliating falls have convinced you of your weakness, when disabused with reference to others, ye shall be disabused also with reference to yourselves, when ye shall exclaim, like Brutus, " O virtue, thou art only a phantom !" what will then remain to you? That which has remain- ed to so many others, the pleasures of selfishness or of sensuality, the last bourne of all errors, the vile residuum of all false systems. If, indeed, it shall not then be given you to accept in exchange for the faith which has deserted you, a better faith, which will never desert you, and which it now remains for us to announce. 104 CHRISTIAN FAITH. We declare to yon the faith of the Gospel ; study its characteris- tics, and become acquainted with it? excellence. No where is the importance of faith so highly estimated as in the Gospel. In the first place, you learn, at the very first glance, that it Lb faith which saves, not for time, but for eternity. "By faith ye are saved," says St. Paul. " If thou confess Jesus Christ with thy mouth, and believe with thine heart that God hath raised him from the dead, thou shalt be saved." " Christ is the author of salvation to all them that believe." This is the first character- istic of Christian faith, that salvation depends on it. lint do not, on this account, consider it as a meritorious act. While in other religions faith is an arbitrary work to which it has pleased the Divinity to attach a merit and a recompense, a work without any other value than an accidental one, communicated to it by the promise from on high ; in the Gospel, faith is represented as having an intrinsic power, a virtue of its own, a direct influence upon the life, and by the life upon salvation. Faith, in the Gospel, does not save, except by regenerating. It consists in receiving into the heart those things which are fitted to change it. The Christian, with reference to God, to himself, to life, has convictions entirely different from those of the world, if, indeed, the world has upon these subjects any thing which resembles convictions. But such is the doctrine of the Gospel, that when it penetrates a spirit agitated by remorse and the terrors of the judgment to come, it produces in it a gratitude and a joy, the inevitable effect of which is to impel it in a direction opposite to that which it has hitherto followed. The believer has found peace ; can he abandon the source of peace ? Can he wander away to shattered cisterns that can hold no water, when within his reach he has fountains of living waters springing up into everlasting life ? Can he fail to obey Him, who, for his benefit, became obedient unto death, even the death of the cross V Will he not submit to the pro- vidence of that God, who, having given to him his only begot- ten Son. lias proved to him, that in all things, He can desire nothing but his happiness ? Will he who loves his Father in heaven hate any of his brethren on earth ? And will he fail to pray, who know* that the very Spirit of God makes intercession for him with unutterable sighs 2 Yes ! Christian faith is the victory over the world ; Christian faith contains all the elements of a holy CHRISTIAN FAITH. 105 life. And what proves this better than all reasonings is, the many- holy lives, so consistent and harmonious, of which Christianity alone supplies the model, and especially those wondrous revolu- tions which render truly converted persons new creatures ; which subdue to sweetness so many angry souls, to patience, impetuous natures, to humility, haughty spirits, to sincerity, dissembling characters, to tranquillity, troubled hearts ; which, in a word, creates in man a new soul, capable of all the virtues the very op- posite of the vices which tyrannized over him. The unity of life ought to correspond to the unity of principle, and not only so, but to its immensity. Faith in something finite can produce only finite results; faith in anything imperfect or fleeting, only imperfect and fleeting results. But God is the prin- ciple which includes all principles; he is more, he is the principle which regulates and quickens all. Every thing is false and muti- lated if it relate not to God; but all is true, complete, united, fruit- ful, which has the true God for its principle. What part of the field of morals can remain sterile and useless under an influence from which nothing can escape? Over what virtue cannot God preside? With what duty can he dispense? How shall He, who is justice, goodness, and beauty supreme, fail to attract to himself whatever is just and great and beautiful? It is on this account that the knowledge of God, of the true God, is the only principle of a perfect morality; and most insensate is he who would ascribe to God any other. But do not demand of Christian faith only splendid things. It has these, it is true, but it holds in tension all the strings of the soul at once, and extends its influence to all points at the same time. We have seen Leonidas perish at Thermopylae for the sal- vation of Greece. Christian faith would teach a Christian to do as much as that; but it would also render him capable, every day, of a thousand little sacrifices. It would arm his soul against all internal assaults of anger, of envy, and of false glory. Could the faith of Leonidas do all these things? This infinite variety, this immensity of application of the Chris- tian faith, is better explained by a reference to its dominant cha- racteristic, which is love. Love prescribes no limits. Were a sentiment only of legal justice in the heart of a Christian, he would try to measure his task, he would trace for himself precise limits, 106 CHRISTIAN FAITH. he would know where to stop; but obeying because he loves, loving Him whom he cannot love too much, lie abandons himself to the impulse of his heart as the worldling abandons himself to his pas- sion. He never says, and he never can say, it is enough. He would fear that he loved no longer when he could say to his love, "Hither shalt thou come, and no farther." Love knows neither precaution nor reserve; it ever desires more; it is inflamed by its own movement, it grows by sacrifices themselves, expects to re- ceive in the measure that it gives, and is itself its own reward; for the true reward of love is to love still more. Where, then, in its applications, shall a faith stop which resolves itself into love? It is scarcely necessary, after all this, to prove that Christian faith is an energetic principle of action. To abstain and sustain constitute but half of the morality founded upon love. Very far from confining itself to a character of obedient passivity, the holy impatience of love seeks and multiplies occasions of testifying its ardour towards the Saviour God from whom it has emanated. Faithful to the express commands of the Gospel, and the example of Jesus Christ, whose holy activity never relaxed, Christian love, each moment, creates for itself new spheres of labour, and new domains to conquer. Will not even the enemies of Christianity be the first to admit an activity which vexes and alarms them daily? Do not those who accuse Christian faith of fanaticism render a beautiful homage to the force of action which dwells in it? Christ well characterized the faith which he brought into the world, when be said with so much energy, — "If ye had faith as a grain of mus- tard seed, ye would say to this fig tree, be thou plucked up by the roots, and be thou cast into the midst of the sea; and it shall be done." Such, indeed, is the power of Christian faith, that, long before the appearance of Christ, when it was nourished only in the shadow of Him that was to come, already Christians by anticipa- tion, under the ancient covenant, we are rendered capable, by their faith, of the most heroic efforts and the most extraordinary works. Read in the eleventh chapter of the Epistle to the Heb- rews the picture of what this faith enabled the Christians of the ancient covenant to do; bring together that picture and the one presented from the days of the apostles to ours, and you will not doubt, that if faith, in general, is an energetic principle of action, Christian faith is the most energetic of all. CHRISTIAN FAITH. 107 A last characteristic of this faith is its certainty. I do not speak of that array of external proofs which form the imposing bulwark of the Christian revelation; proofs for which the sceptics of our day affect a contempt so little philosophical, and which scarcely one in a hundred gives himself the trouble to examine. I do not speak of them here, for they are not equally within the reach of all the faithful. But the Christian has a proof better still; he has God present in the heart ; he feels, every moment, the influence of the Spirit of God, in his soul. He loves; therefore he has the truth. His proof is not of a nature to be communicated by words ; but neither can words take it away. You cannot prove to him that he does not love God ; and if he loves God, will you dare to insist that he does not know him? I have already asked it once, and I ask it again: Can he who loves God be deceived; is he not in the truth? And if Christianity alone gives him power to love God, is not Christianity exclusively the truth? Such is the certainty in which the faithful rejoice. I do not add that it is cherished and quickened by the Holy Spirit. I only speak of obvious facts, facts respecting which the unbelieving as well as the believing can satisfy themselves. And I limit myself to saying, that the faith of the true Christian has for its peculiar characteristic a certainty which elevates it above that of any other belief. Behold, ye men of the world, ye thinkers, ye great actors in the concerns of time! behold the faith which I propose to your hearts, empty and famishing for faith, deceived rather by faith itself. Certainly it does not depend upon me to make you accept it, by the picture I have traced, nor upon you to become its votaries, through this simple exposition. Arguments do not change man; it is life which teaches life; it is God who reveals God. But is what we have said without some attainable end and application ? No, if we have succeeded in making you understand at least the imperfections of your faith, and the superiority of Christian faith with reference to life and action. As to the first point, it is, I be- lieve, beyond contradiction. As to the second, we have proved, it appears to us, all that we had to prove. We have not demonstra- ted that the Christian religion is true, that the revelations upon which it rests are authentic. Our only object was to demonstrate that like all other beliefs, it renders homage to a want of the hu- man soul, and, what no other belief has yet done, that it has 108 CHRISTIAN FAITH. satisfied this want; that it furnishes to man a principle of energy and action, the distinctive features of which are not found united in any other faith ; that it has an intensity, a generality of appli- cation, an elevation of tendency, and in fine a certainty which no other possesses; that in all these respects it presents a type of per- fection which baa never been realized in any human invention; and that if God himself has given a faith to the world, it is impossible that he should have given a better in any respect. After this, it would appear quite superfluous to enquire if the Christian religion is true. To us this proof is sufficient; and we earnestly pray that it may strike others as it strikes us. May such, by the grace of God, be the result of this meditation. 100 VIII. ATHEISM OF THE EPHESIANS. "Without God in the world." — Epeesians, ii, 12, THESE words were addressed by St. Paul to the recently con- verted Christians at Ephesus, and form a part of the chapter in which that great apostle reminds them of the state of darkness, of moral depravity and condemnation, in which they were plunged before the messengers of salvation had proclaimed to them Jesus Christ. The painful truth included in this text, being estab- lished by the infallible authority of the divine word, and being found in accordance with the whole current of Christian revelation, we might dispense with the task of seeking any other proofs of it. But God has not forbidden us to prove and illustrate the perfect and wonderful harmony of his word with the clearest principles of reason and nature. On this account we invite you to investigate with us the proofs of that proposition of St. Paul, that the Ephe- sians, before knowing Jesus Christ were without God in the world. Aid us by your attention. And if you involuntarily feel some prejudices against the position we are about to sustain, be willing to repress them for a few moments. I am not going to prove that the Ephesiaus, before their conversion, did not believe in God; that were an untenable position. The belief in God is so inherent in the human race, so essential to our reason, that the most depraved persons can with difficulty free themselves from it. Not every one that wishes it is an atheist; the very devils believe and tremble. How could Paul say such a thing of the Ephesians, in sight, as it were, of the temple of their Diana? How could he say so when, at Athens, beholding altars every where, he had reproached the inhabitants of that celebrated city with being in some sort too devout? What he wished to say, and what we seek to prove, is, that in the case of an unconverted Epbesian, nay more, of the 110 ATIIEISM OF THE ErHESIANS. most enlightened Ephesian, of him, who in the steps of the philo- sophers had risen to the idea of the divine unity, it would have been the same thing, not to believe in God. as to believe in him, as he did. And if this even should appear to some hard to believe, I beg them to give attention to the following question. What is it to believe in the existence of a being? Is it not to believe that there is a subject, in which certain qualities unite, that distinguish it from all others? Do not these qualities, or properties, make the particular object or being what it is. and not something else ; and when we deny all these qualities, or properties, one after another, does it not amount to denying the object itself? What would you say of a people who had resolved to give them- selves a king, who had even invested a man with that illustrious dignity, but who, from some motive, should take from him succes- sively the right to raise armies, and to make war and peace, the privilege of nominating to offices, and the revenues necessary to sustain his dignity, and finally those marks of respect which his title appears to demand? You would say that this people had no king. In vain would a man exist among them whom they called king; he is not one, since he cannot be such without certain qua- lities and prerogatives he has not. This is a republic, under the name of a monarchy. What, in like manner, would you say of a man, or of a society, who should say, we acknowledge a God, but who should refuse to that God the attributes most essential to his dignity, and most inseparable from the idea of his perfection; and reduce him, so to speak, to nothing but a name? Assuredly, you would say, that such a man and such a society do not believe in God, and that un- der the name of religion they profess atheism. Very well, it will be said, the principle is incontestable; but who is only a part of the sphere of the activity •f JehoTftb. It be controls the world of things, he governs also, under another name, the world of morals; and that name is the ll<»ly Spirit. Do you believe in the Holy Spirit? Do you believe that from him proceed all good reo oi u tions and all good thoughts? Do yon believe thai hie influence is freely given by our heavenly 1 t ■ Imply tho administration of justice, particular- ly in the infliction of punishment. — T. ATHEISM OF THE EPHESIANS. 113 Father, to all those who ask it? It would seem to require no great effort to believe that. No doctrine is more reasonable. We can- not, without absurdity, deny to God, who has made our minds, the power to influence and direct them. But if you do not believe in the Holy Spirit, in that quickening soul of the moral world, I ask you, what God do you possess? Behold, my brethren, what St. Paul might have said to the Ephesians before their conversion. Behold, too, Avhat he could not say to them after their conversion. The Christian sees manifested and developed, in perfect harmony, the justice, the goodness, and the providence of God. In Jesus Christ they are consummated, realized, enthroned. In him the divine justice has been accomplish- ed, — by him the goodness of God has been proclaimed, — by him, in fine, the government of the Holy Spirit and a moral providence have been placed beyond a doubt. These truths are the whole substance and aim of the Gospel. The Christian alone knows God ; the Christian alone has a God. I feel as much as any one, all that is paradoxical and harsh which such an assertion at the first moment presents. But I ask, what is that God who should have no right either to our adora- tion, our confidence, or our love? And, indeed, how can we adore a God whose justice, pliable and soft, should accommodate itself to the corruption of our hearts, and the perversity of our thoughts? How, on the other hand, love a God whom we could not behold but under the aspect and with the attributes of a severe and in- exorable judge? How could we confide in a God who, indifferent to our temporal interests, and to those of our souls, should exercise no supervision over our conduct and destiny? And, we ask once more, what is a God whom we can neither know, adore, nor love? In truth, my brethren, for it serves little purpose to soften the words, the profession of the faith of the Ephesian is an involuntary profession of atheism. St. Paul might say to him, do not exile your God, amid the splendours of a distant glory, whence the Sun of righteousness can never warm the moral world, and shed upon it the purifying influence of its rays ; or, if such be the God you wish, do not, I pray you, mock yourselves so cruelly; and at least respect, by never pronouncing, a name, which you can no longer regard as holy, or rather pronounce it unceasingly, as the name ot a being for ever absent and lost; cultivate, and, so to speak, en- 7 II 114 ATHEISM OF THE LTHESIAXS. haiice, by your tears, that idea the grandeur of which will remind yuu of your destitution ; but do not abuse, do not flatter yourselves, by imagining you have a God, when you have nothing more than the idea. Acknowledge to yourselves, not that the universe has no God, a thing you have never been able to doubt, but that you, in some sense fallen below the rest of created beings, are without God in the world. Behold what reason, honestly interrogated, furnishes us touch- ing the religion of the Ephesian before his conversion. But as his religion, Mich also will his life be. For it is impossible that he that is without God in the world should live like him who has a God. Ami to prove it. we do not require to develope to you his moral conduct, and show you how far he is removed from that holiness of which God is at once the source, the motive, and the model. Without running over the whole circle of his relations, it is suffi- cient to say what he is with relation to God; in other words, to point out the place which God occupies in his moral life. That place, alas ! how small it is ! The idea of God is neither the centre of his thoughts nor the soul of his life, but an idea accessory, su- pernumerary, very often importunate, and associated indifferently with his other thoughts. If God did not exist at all, the circle of his ideas would not be less complete, nor his reason less satisfied. When he is occupied with the idea of God, it is as a simple view of the intellect, not as a real fact, which determines the aim of existence, and the value of life. He applies it less to practical purposes than the astronomer the figure of the earth, the course of the Btara, and the measure of the heavens. His belief in God is iftnosl purely negative. It permits God to exist, not being able to do otherwise; but this belie!' neither controls his life nor regulates hifl oonduct He believes in God; he says so wh en occasion re - quires it; but it docs not gratify him to speak of it to his family or his Wends; he lerer entertains his children with it, and he makes HO DBS "i it in their education. In a word, his thought is not full of God, does not live upon God; BO that we might say of him, in this first relation, thai he is without God in the world. there IS one Voice in the universe. The heavens declare 1 I; though they have no language, properly speak- ing, their voire i.^ heard BVen by the dullest ear; ami through the ear, that rofce BOmetimei penetrates to the heart. Yes, in view ATHEISM OF THE EPHESIAKS. 11,'j of tli at magnificent aspect of nature, all full of love and life, the heart of the Ephesian is sometimes softened. I will not ask him, why, in gazing upon these beauties, his heart soon aches, and his bosom heaves with sighs ; I will not ask him whence comes that involuntary sadness which succeeds the rapture of the first view. I will not say that what then weighs upon his thoughts is the con- trast between nature so beautiful and a soul degraded ; between an order so perfect, and the disorder of his feelings and thoughts; between that exuberance of life, spread through immensity, and the consciousness of a fallen existence, which dares not reflect up- on its duration. I will not ask him to observe that this feeling is so appropriate to a soul like his, that he recurs to it at each emo- tion of joy, as to a signal, appointed to poison and to tarnish it. And I will not conclude, as I might do, that all this comes from the fact, that God is absent. No, I shall only ask, What is that emotion? What does it prove? Does it give you a God? Alas, that confused feeling has moved the souls of millions who have gazed upon these beauties, and has left them such as they were. Nature, which excites alternately pleasure and pain, regenerates no one. Observe the Ephesian, whom it has touched. That fleet- ing motion, as soon as dissipated, restores him wholly to the world. Even if he rendered worship to his Creator, his life is not a wor- ship; it is not devoted to the Lord of heaven and earth. His con- duct obeys a thousand impulses by turns, but he does not know r the meaning of that admirable precept, "Whatsoever ye do, do it for the Lord, and not for man ; glorify God in your spirits and in your bodies, which are his." It is not for God that he is a liter- ary man, a merchant, an artizan, a man of property, a labourer, a citizen, or the head of a family : it is for himself. He is his own God and his own law. Events adverse and prosperous come by turns. They succeed each other without interruption, and always find him without God. Happy, — he has no emotion of gratitude to the Lord. Unhappy, he does not receive the occasion of it as a reproof or a counsel. Sick, — he thinks not of the great Physician. Dying, — he has no hope of heaven. In a word, that thought of God which must be every thing or nothing in the life is nothing in his ; nothing, at least, worth estimating. He yields nothing to it, sacrifices nothing, offers nothing. And, after all this, he will tell us that he has a God! 116 ATHEISM OF THE ErHESlANS. Bnt we have spoken long enough of this imaginary being, this n n regenerate Ephesian. Are there, in your opinion, no sceptics but in Ephesus? Is there no heathenism but in the heathen world? Is the portrait we have drawn applicable to those thousands, alas! to those millions of the heathen of Christianity who also live without God in the world? Let there be no delusion here; this description is either false or true. False, it applies to no one, and to the Ephesian idolator no more than another; true, it has its originals in all ages, in all countries, and, without doubt, also among us. God forbid that I should make but one class of all the persons who do not believe the Gospel. There are those among them who with a slow but persevering pace are climbing towards the truth. There is already something of Christianity in those serious and tender souls who are seeking, on all sides, another God than that which the world has provided for them. For already, without having a clear notion of the Gospel, they have received from the Holy Spirit a secret impulse, which urges them to seek a God, in- vested with those attributes which the Gospel has revealed, a God of providence. Religion stretches out her hands to them, and salutes them with a gentle name, even at the time they would seem to resist her; for she discerns in them a thirst for righteousness and peace, which she only is capable of satisfying. And she waits for the happy moment when, recognizing the striking harmony between the Christian revelations and the imperfect revelations tin v have received from the voice within, these Christians by an- ticipation, these Christians by desire and want, shall become such in fact and profession. But this takes nothing from the truth we have established, touch- ing the unbeliever who is living without God in the world. And whither would this lead us, were we to pursue the subject? We have spoken only of his opinions, of his interior feelings. And his actions do not they prove his thoughts, according to the energetic Language of the prophet, are all as if there were no God? This I should aim t<. show, if the limits of this discourse permitted it. I should discover it to you, as much in the virtuous as in the vicious unbeliever. 1 should show you in both the same forgetfulness of God, the same indifference to his glory, the same idolatry to self. But a subject of such importance requires space. It is not in a few ATHEISM OF THE EPHESIANS. 117 words that we can clear up all the difficulties with which it is con- nected. But why do I occupy your attention with these things? Have they reference to you ? Or is this sermon not made rather for a pagan than for a Christian temple? But is it that doubt and error never come to sit in a Christian church? They may enter thither to seek for light! God bless so good an intention, for there is piety even in that! In such a case, it is proper to speak of these things. But even in an audience, all the members of which are penetrated with the truths I have discussed, such a subject is also appropriate. The Christian cannot but gain something by enquiring diligently into the foundations and privileges of his faith. He ought to love to review the titles of his adoption. He ought also to learn how to exhibit them with dignity, and explain them with gentleness, to those who ask from him an account of his glorious hope. And although the Gospel can prove itself true by its own power, and without any human aid, to a soul thirsting for righteousness, nev- ertheless the examination of these proofs, so rich and so beautiful, is a natural mean which God often uses to produce or confirm faith. May such, in some degree, be the effect of this discourse. May you return to your houses more convinced and affected with the wonderful attractions of the Gospel. May you exclaim with the sacred poet, u O God, I rejoice in thy word as one that hath found great spoil. It shall be a lamp to my feet, and a light to my path. Thou hast made me to know the way of life, I shall ever be with thee; thou hast held me by thy right hand. Thou wilt guide me by thy counsel, and afterwards receive me to glory !" 118 IX. GKACE AND LAW. " By grace ye are saved."— Ephesians, ii,5. IN no language is there a more attractive word than grace; m the Gospel there is none more offensive to the men of the world. The idea of being saved by grace offends their pride, shocks their reason. And they prefer, a thousand times, to the word grace, so sweet and touching, that of law, so formidable and severe. They desire us to speak to them of the precepts of the Gospel, of the morality of the Gospel, but they are not pleased when we call their attention to the gratuitous pardon it announces. We shall not at present explain the causes of this predilection and of this repugnance, which appear to contradict the deepest tendencies of, human nature. But we shall endeavour to show that, so far from these two things, grace and law, being irreconcilable, the one con- ducts necessarily to the other; that the law conducts to grace, and grace, in its turn, leads back to the law. Alter we have deduced this truth from the very nature of things we shall appeal to experience, and enable you to see that whoso- < rer truly admits the one never fails to admit also the other. Thus if it should please God to aid us, one of the principal objections which the world raises against the Gospel will be removed. I say, then, that the law conducts naturally to grace. To con- vince yon of this, will you consider the law with reference to four things, or four points of view which it offers to your contemplation? Its nature, its extent, its authoritative character, and finally, its sanction or guarantee. If you ((insider the nature of this law, you will see that the question has little to do with ceremonies, customs, and external performances. Upon this point there is no difference of opinion. [f these things were commanded by Heaven, thev would doubtless GRACE AND LAW. 119 form a part of our duties. Bat the law, such as Christians and even pagans conceive of it, is the moral law, the law which sub- jects the life to the conscience. And this law commands us, not merely to act justly, but to be just; not only to do right but to feel right ; that is to say, it demands our heart. As to the extent of this law, a word will suffice; it is the law of perfection. He who understands it resembles that hero so fre- quently mentioned in history, who believed that he had done no- thing so long as any thing remained for him to do. No relation of his life, no moment of his career, no part of his duty, can be withdrawn from this universal empire of the moral law. To obey in every thing, to obey always, to obey perfectly, such is the un- changeable rule of his conduct. 1 In the third place, this is not a mere choice, a plan, or a calcu- lation, on his part; he is bound to the law by the chains of an imperious and absolute obligation. In his eyes, the only thing necessary is to obey. Happiness, power, life, are not the end, but the means of fulfilling the moral law. The question with him is not about enjoyment, or power, or life, but about obedience. The laws of nature may change, those of duty remain. The universe may dissolve, the moral law continues. In the confusion of all things, and amid universal disorder, the will to do right does not cease to belong to him; and his activity would fail of its objects, and his efforts of their end, if he did not forever feel under obli- gation to be righteous. 1 That this is a just view is evident from the fact that perfection, 'which is the absence of all sin, and the possession of all virtue, is absolutely ne- cessary to our happiness. God cannot require less of his creatures than what will secure their permanent well-being. The spirits of just men made perfect, and the angels of God, are happy because they are holy. They "obey in every thing, obey always, obey perfectly." Hence we are enjoined to pray, " Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven." Our heavenly Father then, has given us a perfect law, in order that he may secure for us a per- fect felicity. He has forbidden all wrong, he enjoins all virtue; for all wrong is injurious, all virtue is beneficial. One sin, sanctioned or permit- ted, one virtue, neglected or not commanded, would tarnish our felicity, and introduce disorder into the divine administration. The law then is the law of perfection. It has no limits but those of possibility. It forbids all sin, it enjoins all purity, in thought, word, and deed. Like its author, it is " holy, just, and good, " and therefore immutable and eternal. If. then, it bears severely upon us, if it condemns us utterly and irrevocably, this only proves that we need pardon and regeneration. — T. 120 GRACE AND LAW. That he may never forget it, a sanction is attached to the law. Happiness has been invariably attached to obedience, misery to disobedience. On earth, disgust, remorse, and terror, indicate to rebellious man the most terrible punishments concealed in the sha- dows of the future. "The wrath of God is revealed from heaven against every soul of man that doeth evil." Try to deduct any thing from this formidable enumeration; try, and you will see, with each attempt, the burden aggravated by new weights. Say that obedience has its limits, and we shall ask you to point them out. Say that a compromise may be made between heaven and earth, and we shall demand, by virtue of what autho- rity you dare to make such a compromise. Say that each man has his standard, and we shall enquire of each one of you, if he has reached that standard. Say, that God has no need of your sac- rifices, we shall wish to know if the commandments of God are regulated by his needs; and we shall compel you to acknowledge, that on such a supposition, God would not command anything, since assuredly God has no need of any thing. Say that many of the duties imposed upon you are doubtful ; but whence come the greater part of these doubts, if not from your reluctance to obey? Moreover, do you fulfil those duties of which you do not doubt? Say that obedience is impossible; but show us how, while you find it impossible, it yet appears to you highly reasonable; show us why your conscience persists in declaring authoritative a law, which your experience declares impracticable; show us why, after each transgression, you have in vain said, I could not have done other- wise; and why remorse does not cry the less vehemently in your soul. .Remove this contradiction if you can ; as for us, we cannot remove it. To present to God our bodies and spirits a living and holy sacri- fice ; to devote to him our whole life ; to seek nothing but his ap- probation: " to love our neighbour as ourselves ; to use the world as not abusing it ;" — such is a feeble sketch, a rapid outline of the divine law. Let others seek to efface, to obliterate the distinctive features ; we shall deepen the impression. Let them seek to lighten the burden, we shall press it with all our might. We shall, if pos- sible, overwhelm with it the presumptuous creature who seeks to shake it off, in order that, under the oppressive weight of this ter- rible and inexorable law, he may utter that desirable and salutary GRACE AND LAW. 121 cry which implores grace, and to which the Gospel alone has re- sponded. If, then, you have formed a just idea of the moral law, if you have accepted it, not enfeebled and mutilated, but in all its strict- ness and majesty, you will acknowledge yourselves violators of that divine law. You will feel yourselves capable neither of ful- filling all its precepts together, nor even one of them in a manner full and perfect ; and in the profound conviction of your misery and danger, you will either abandon yourselves to an inconsolable despair, or you will cast yourselves at the foot of the eternal throne, and beg grace and pardon from the Judge of your life. It is thus the law leads to grace. But observe particularly that I have not said that the law explains grace. The work of redemp- tion is a mystery, and will always remain a mystery ; the Gospel itself only announces it, does not explain it. All I meant to say is, that to him who contemplates the holy image of the law, there is an imperious necessity to rely on grace or perish in his sins. It is at this point that St. Paul has again exclaimed, " Do we make void the law through faith ? God forbid ! yea Ave establish the law." This is the second truth we have announced ; grace, in its turn, leads back to the law. In the first place, you will consider that grace, as it is manifested in the Gospel, is the most splendid homage, the most solemn con- secration, which the law can receive. This grace is of a peculiar character. It is not the soft indulgence, and the easy indifference of a feeble father, who, tired of his own severity, shuts his eyes to the faults of a guilty child. It is not the weakness of a timid government, which, unable to repress disorder, lets the laws sleep, and goes to sleep along with them. It is a holy goodness ; it is a love without feebleness, which pardons guilt, and executes justice, at the same time. It is not possible, that God, who is the supreme sanction of order, should tolerate the shadow of disorder, and leave unpunished the least infraction of the holy laws he has given. Thus, in the work of which we speak, condemnation appeal's in the pardon, and pardon in the condemnation. The same act pro- claims the compassion of God, and the inflexbility of his justice. God could not save us without assuming our nature, nor assume our nature without sharing our misery. The cross, the triumph of grace, is the triumph of law. Penetrate this great mystery, and 122 GRACE AND LAW. you will acknowledge that nothing is more beyond reason, and yet nothing more conformed to it. Among all the inventions of men, you will seek in vain, for another idea, which exhibits in harmony all the attributes which compose the perfection of God. 1 Thus, then, in the idea of evangelical grace, the moral law is 1 To every unsophisticated reader of the Scriptures, nothing can be more evident than the saeritieial or substitutionary character of our Saviour's sufferings That Christ was sinless, all will admit; that he was treated as if he won- a -inner; that he was thus treated by the appointment of God as well as his own voluntary choice, and that his sufferings were a part of a great scheme, devised by infinite wisdom, for the redemption of man, will also be acknowledged. Moreover, that he suffered for us, suffered what we ought to have suffered a thousand times over, but which we could not have suffered without utter perdition, and that God accepts his sufferings, not as a full or commercial equivalent for our punishment, but as an expiation or atonement for our sins, on the ground of which, our faith in Christ is ac- counted for righteousness, and procures for us pardon and eternal life, will •!y be denied by any serious and candid believer in divine revelation. • He who knew no sin was made sin for us, that we might be made the righteousness of God in him." Here then is the sinless suffering for the sinful, the innocent dying for the guilty; and if this be not sacrifice, expia- tion, substitution, we know not what it is. The case indeed is peculiar. There is nothing like it, there can be nothing like it, in the transactions of men. But the infinite Jehovah, the supreme Sovereign of the universe, the source and embodiment of ail law as well as of all grace, may accept such orifice, in place of the direct execution of his laws, and present it to the world, as bis selected plan for the salvation of the guilty. Thus is ho just, and yet the justifier of him that believeth in Jesus. The fitness and efficiency of such an appointment are shown in its effects. Aprioriitmight l foolishness, but experience has proved it to be the power of God and the wisdom of God, not only for the relief but for the reformation of them that believe. Our author then is justified in speaking of the cross of Christ as an exhibition of justice and of grace. While it relieves the conseienee 6f the sinner from the burden of guilt, and inspires him with an immortal . it .-ink'i a death-blow at his sin, and penetrates his heart with grati- tude and love. " A cold and sceptical philosophy," says Robert Hall, Works, Vol. I, p. L'77, "may suggest Bpecious cavils against the doctrines <»f revelation upon this subject ; cavils which derive all their force, not from the superior wisdom of their authors, but solely from the inadequacy of Daman reason to the full comprehension of heavenly mysteries. Uut still is a simple grandeur in the fact, that God has set forth his Son to l><> afflcient to silence the impotent clamours of sophistry, and > all serious and humble men a firm conviction, that the law is exalted, and the justice of G riously vindicated and asserted by such an expedient. To minds of that description, the immaculate purity of the divine oh racter, its abhorrence of sin, and its inflexible adherence to moral order, will present th< I he cross, in a more impressive light than in any other object." — T. GRACE AND LAW. 123 f ound highly glorified. Why should it not be found equally glori- fied in the hearts of those who receive grace? How can we be- lieve seriously, in that bloody expiation, without perceiving all that is odious in sin, vowing towards it a profound hatred, and desiring, if I may so express it, to do honour to that ineffable and unmerited grace? What! has Christ died for our sins, and can we love our sins ? What ! has Christ died because there is a law, and shall we not feel ourselves bound to redouble, and constantly to renew our respect, for the law? Human nature must have lost all its essential traits, all the fibres of the heart must have been broken, when the conviction of so great a benefit has failed to ex- cite all our love ; and it would be a strange love which did not produce obedience. He who says in his heart, " Let us sin, that grace may abound !" must be a man who has neither understood nor received grace ; for the natural and reasonable conclusion is this, since grace abounds, let us sin no more ! Thus, as I said, at the commencement of these remarks, grace leads back to the law. I say more than this; I say that it alone leads thither. Of this you will have no doubt if you consider attentively what the law is. The law is not perfectly fulfilled except by love. But love is not commanded, it is inspired. The severest injunctions, and the most formidable threatenings could not create, in the soul, a single emo- tion of tenderness to God ; love alone gives birth to love. Thus, as long as we have before us only the law with its threatenings, we do not fulfil it in the spirit by which it ought to be fulfilled, that is, we do not fulfil it at all. The Gospel has said that, "love casteth out fear ;" it is also just to say, that fear casteth out love ; for we cannot love when we fear. It is the privilege and the glory of the Gospel to give to the soul enlargement and freedom ; grace being proclaimed, and fear banished, we dare love, we can love. "I will run in the way of thy commandments," says the Psalmist, "when thou shalt enlarge my heart." The heart opens and ex- pands under the gentle warmth of divine love, and the sweet rays of hope. Obedience becomes joyous ; it is no longer a painful effort, but a spontaneous and involuntary soaring of the renovated soul. As the waves of a river, once impelled in the direction of their channel, do not require, every moment, a new impulse to continue therein, so the life which has received the impulse of love is borne away entire, and with rapid waves, towards the ocean of 124 GRACE AND LAW. the divine will, where it loves to be swallowed up and lost. Thus perfect obedience is the fruit only of love, and love is the fruit only of grace. This idea receives additional force, from a more complete view of grace. Grace is something more than pardon ; pardon is only the inauguration of grace. God exercises grace towards us, when he forgives our sins ; and he exercises it again, when he acts upon our hearts, to incline and form them to obedience ; or, if you pre- fer it so, when he cherishes and perpetuates the first impressions we have received from his mercy ; when he incessantly awakens in us the recollection, the idea, the feeling of these impressions; when he prevents the dust and gravel from obstructing the blessed foun- tain he has caused to spring from the rock cleft asunder by his divine hand. All this he has promised ; all this he has pledged to us ; all this, then, is grace. But what effect will such promises, such assurance have upon the heart, but to soften and encourage it ? What disposition will he be likely to cherish towards God who knows not only that God has loved him once, but that he loves him always, that he thinks of him, provides for him, watches over him continually, conducts him gently and carefully, as a shepherd conducts one of his flock, from the mountain to the plain, bears him in his arms, and caresses him as a nurse bears and caresses a child ; in a word, to borrow the language of Scripture, " is afflicted in all his afflictions ?" l This, we repeat, is grace ! Is it, or is it not, favourable to the law ? In other words, is it adapted to de- velope, or i3 it only fitted to stifle in us, the principle of love ? Who, having considered the nature of the law and of grace, can now say, that law and grace are incompatible? The matter is beyond dispute. But wo have a corroboration of this truth in ex- perience. It fully confirms what reason has already proved. In the first place, we affirm that those who admit grace admit also the law. Here, it is quite evident, we do not speak of that dry dogmatism, that dead orthodoxy, which is no more Christianity than a statue is a man. We grant that there is a way of receiv- ing the doctrines of the church which leaves them without influence upon the life. But we speak only of those whose Christianity is vital, of those who have accepted grace, with the same feeling, 1 Isaiah, lxiii, 14. ; lxvi, 12 ; lxiii, 9. GRACE AND LAW. 125 that a shipwrecked mariner seizes the saving plank which is to sustain him above the waves and carry him to the shore. Well, have you remarked, that those Christians by conviction and feeling, who confess that they are saved only by grace, have less respect than others for the law? On the contrary, have you not observed that what distinguishes them is precisely their attachment and zeal for the law? And yet, strange to tell! some have succeeded, by means of certain sophisms, in spreading the idea that the doctrine of such Christians is subversive of morality, that their faith is a pillow of security, that it extinguishes the necessity for good works, and opens the door to every vice. But their conduct has refuted all these sophisms. The flesh might say let us sin, for grace abounds, but the spirit teaches them a very different logic. It is true, they expect every thing from grace, but they labour as if they expected every thing from themselves. In the world we are surprised to see men, who long since have made their fortune, rising early and retiring late, and eating the bread of carefulness, as if they had yet their fortune to make. Well, then, those of whom we are speaking have also made their fortune, — they are saved, — they say so ; but every thing which a man would do, who thus far had not the least assurance of his salvation, they do assi- duously, and without ceasing. And they not only labour, but they pray; they supplicate the Spirit to sustain them in their feebleness; with fervour, they exclaim, "Oh, who shall deliver us from this body of death?" With the great apostle they repeat, u As for me, I have not yet reached the goal; but this I do, leav- ing the things that are behind me, and marching to those that are before, I advance to the goal, to the prize of the heavenly calling of God in Christ Jesus." In a word, the conduct of these disciples of Christ is such that it would be difficult to find among the par- tizans of the law a single individual as careful to bridle his tongue, to repress the risings of passion, to observe every iota of the law, and to fill up his life with good works. And yet they attach to none of their works the hope of their salvation. What proof can be stronger, that grace and law are by no means contradictory! If it is true, that those who admit grace admit also the law, it is, unhappily, no less true, that those who do not admit grace do not admit the law. This assertion will not surprise us if we re- collect what the law is, and what it is to admit it. Who, in the 126 GRACE AND LAW. elevated and spiritual sense we nave given to these expressions, admit the law, who wish to do so completely? Not those cer- tainly who reject grace. Every where among the children of the world the law of God is taken at a discount. Each accepts of it whatever he finds proportioned to his powers, and convenient to .his circumstances ; each makes a law according to his own standard. Morality changes its form and dimensions with each individual. And, what is especially worthy of notice, in this connection, is, that they make only those sacrifices to the law which cost them i nothing, those indeed which are no sacrifices at all. But each appears to demand favour for every cherished inclination, for every reserved vice, for every idol he has not the courage to break; the avaricious man, for the mania of gain and accumulation, the sen- sual for the indulgences he cannot renounce, the vain for the dis- tinctions by which he is flattered. In a word, behind conscience, and amid the deep shadows of the soul, each cherishes, perhaps unknown to himself, some idolatrous altar. It is this which ex- plains the strange preference which worldlings give to the law over grace. Never would they prefer the law if they saw it entire; and they prefer it only because the delicate point, the wounding point, if I may so express myself, remains hidden from them, and only its flattering aspects, its smooth sides, its easy duties, are familiar to their minds. But with whom do you find this disposi- tion to attenuate the law, or rather this incapacity to admit it? With the partizans of grace, or with those who reject grace? With the disciples of the world, or with the children of the Gospel? But are there not, you will say to me, even among those who do not admit salvation by grace, men penetrated with the holiness of the law, and desirous of fulfilling it ? Ah ! my friends, you speak of a class of men very remarkable, and very interesting. There are nun, I am far from denying, to whom God appears to manifest himself as he did to Moses on Sinai, with all the majesty of a lawgiver and a judge. By a celestial favour, which may be called a commencement of grace, they have felt the grandeur, ne- ity. and inflexibility of the moral law, and at the same time, have believed themselves capable of realizing it in their lives. Full of this idea, thev have set themselves to work; now retrenching, DOW adding, and now correcting ; — ever occupied with the desire of perfection, they have subjected their souls and bodies to the GRACE AND LAW. 127 severest discipline. But when they have seen that the task had no end, the process no result ; when one vice extirpated has only enabled thetn to discover another ; when, after all these correc- tions in detail, the sum jof the life and the foundation of the soul were not essentially changed ; that the old man was still there, in his ill-disguised decrepitude, that the disease of which they had to relieve themselves was not a disease, but death itself: that the great thing at issue was not how to be cured, but how to live ; when, in a word, they have seen that their labour did not bring peace, and at the same time, have felt their craving for peace in- creasing with the efforts they made to satisfy it, — then was verified in them what Jesus Christ has said, "Whosoever will do the will of my Father shall know whether my doctrine comes from God or from man." " Yes, that doctrine which is nothing else than grace, they have acknowledged as one which proceeds from the good and holy God ; as the only key to the enigma which torments them. They have embraced it with affection ; they have sold all to pur- chase that pearl of great price ;" and have thereby once more proved what we seek to establish, that " the law is a schoolmaster, leading to Christ ; and that by the road of the law we arrive at grace. A great number of conversions which rejoice the church have no other history. Thus, if there are among us those who have not yet resolved to accept salvation from God, as a gratuitous gift, as the price of the sufferings of Jesus Christ, I will state the reason of it, without circumlocution. It is because they do not yet know the law. They may speak, if they will, of righteousness, of perfection, and even of love ; there are many things of a terrestrial nature to which they might apply each of these words ; it is loug since hu- man language has rashly usurped the words of the language of heaven. But how far is that which they call righteousness, per- fection, and love, from what our Lord has denominated such ! Ah ! if they had but the faintest idea and the feeblest desire of perfec- tion ; if the august image of regeneration, of the life in God, did but once shine upon their minds, what a revolution would be made in their ideas ! how life would change its aspect in their eyes! how their views of happiness and of misery would be suddenly displaced ! How little would every thing be to them, in comparison with that peace of God to which they did not expect to come but by way of 128 GRACE AND LAW. the law ! When, after having panted, for a long time, under the iron yoke of the law, and traced in a field of duty, so many barren furrows, they should see shining upon them, at last, the divine promise, when the Desire of nations, the. Desire of their hearts, should present himself before their eyes, with the touching dignity of Mediator ; when he should teach them to breathe the gentle name of Father, which their lips could never before utter ; when they should see the links of an ineffable communion, formed be- tween their unhappy souls and the eternal Spirit, O then would they love, would they comprehend, would they accept that grace which to-day is to them only an object of scandal and derision. Open their eyes, O Lord, to the majestic splendours of thy holy law, to the sweet and tender light of thy compassion ? Penetrate them with a reverence for thy commands, and then with love for thy love. Lead them by the road of the law, to the secure port, the eternal asylum of thy grace in Jesus Christ ' Note. — We would here say, what perhaps we ought to have said before, that ia translating passages of Scripture, we have usually given the author's renderings, except in most of the texts at the head of the discourses. 12U MAN DEPRIVED OF ALL GLORY BEFORE GOD. " All have sinned and come short of the glory of God." — Rom., iii, 23. FIRST DISCOURSE. rj^HE two truths to which we invite your attention to-day have JL not met the same fate in the world. The first is not disputed ; there is no one who does not acknowledge that "all men have sin- ned;" but there are few persons disposed to admit that " man is deprived of all glory before God." There is such an agreement as to the first of these propositions that it would not be necessary to dwell upon it, if those who are unanimous in receiving it did not strangely differ from one another, and sometimes even from themselves, touching the extent and meaning of this declaration. Some of them regard sin as essen- tially a negative thing ; that is, as an absence, a want, a defect ; in their belief, no element of positive evil resides in the heart of man. Others, on the contrary, believe that sin consists in a di- rect preference of evil to good ; that vice in man is not a weakness but a depraved force; that the will is not seduced but corrupted. You hear some explain sin as an accident of human nature ; the result of the action of external circumstances upon the soul. Evil, according to them, does not proceed from the soul, but comes to it ; the soul receives it, docs not produce it. Again, you hear others maintain that the germ of sin is in the heart ; that it seeks occa sions to manifest itself; that every thing may become an occasion to it, and that man is not a sinner by accident, but by nature. The one, while recognizing, in the heart of man, a tendency to evil, regards that tendency as a primitive law of his being, an interior force, rivalling the moral element which gives it an opportunity of displaying its force, and triumphing, with so much greater merit and honour. The others maintain that God has not made evil ; 7 1 ]30 MAN DEPRIVED OF ALL that an adversary lias come and sown impure tares among our •wheat; and that harmony, not combat, is the regular and healthy state of every soul. Reason sheds very little light upon all these questions. How many philosophers and profound thinkers have they not already completely defeated ! Nevertheless, from all the intricacies of lo- gic, and from the hands of sophists, one truth has always escaped, intact, entire, and invincible ; it is, that men have sinned ; that all, more or less, live in disorder ; that, as long as they are in the ilesh, they are enveloped in sin ; and that, by an inexplicable con- trast, they join, with the consciousness of their servitude or capti- vity, an irresistible feeling of guilt and responsibility. As to a more perfect knowledge of the nature, the extent, and the consequences of sin, we shall never obtain it, unless we have recourse to the Christian revelation. This revelation does not con- fine itself to saying that all men have sinned ; it throws a vivid light upon this declaration by the words which terminate my text: " They are deprived of all glory before God. r ' To every one that adopts this second sentence, the meaning of the first becomes per- fectly clear and precise. It is then to prove that man has no sub- ject of glory before God that we are to apply it. We have already said, that this declaration meets with more w ho deny it than the first. What does it, in fact, mean ? It means that man has nothing in him which he can urge as a dis- tinction in the eyes of God, as a merit or a defence; nothing which can, in itself, assure us of his good-will. Is not this truth disputed? We by no means dispute it, some will say ; for it is quite evi- dent that all we are we owe to God ; our good qualities are his work ; and, in this view, the most virtuous man is included with all others in the application of this sentence: "They are deprived of all occasion of glory before God." We admil it willingly, and the apostle himself would equally admit it. ]t was St. .Janus who said to the primitive Christians, " Every good gift and every perfect gift cometh down from the Father of lights;'' lie alone produces in us both the execution and the will, according to his good pleasure. " What have we that we have not received from him; and if we have received it, why do we boast as i! we had not received it V But it is clear that it is GLORY BEFORE GOD. 131 from another point of view that the apostle reasons in the chapter where our text is found, and that it has another meaning than the one which these persons would give it. It is not merely a homage which the apostle would render to the author of every perfect gift ; it is a condemnation he would pronounce. Upon whom? Upon man in every condition? No ; but upon man unregenerate. upon man in his natural state. And the expression of the apostle evidently signifies that as long as man has not accepted the benefit of redemption by Jesus Christ, he is, with relation to God, in a state of reprobation, from which he has in himself absolutely nothing that can deliver him. This proposition, I believe, will find a considerable number of opponents. We do not wish to burden this sentence with what evidently does not belong to it. We do not wish to confound two distinct spheres. In the presence of his fellow-man man is not absolutely without glory. Man can offer to man something to be admired and praised, or at least to be respected. Indeed, it would be to belie our own consciousness, and place ourselves in an untenable position, in all cases to refuse a sentiment of approbation to the con- duct of our fellow-creatures. In other words, man is frequently forced to recognize in man something which he is obliged to call virtue. Virtue he discovers and recognizes not merely in the Christian, whose moral nature has been renewed by the Gospel, but in others. Far from all admiration being confined to that quarter, the admira- tion of men, nay more, of Christians, is frequently directed towards the natural or unregenerate man. Whatever may be the harsh assertions of an ill-understood orthodoxy, it is certain that the Christian who is the most disposed, in theory, to refuse all reality and all value to human virtues, every moment contradicts himself in practice. A benefit received from one of his fellow-men moves his heart ; he speaks of gratitude, he is, in reality, grateful ; that is to say, he recognizes, in his benefactor, a benevolent and dis- interested intention ; he attributes to the action for which he has occasion to rejoice another value than the personal profit he derives from it, an intrinsic or a moral value. His benefactor is something else in his eyes than a tree, well planted, which bears spontaneously good fruits ; he sees in him a generous will, which, without being incited from without, has used its capacity and 132 MAS DEPRIVED OF ALL means to procure an advantage to a sensitive being. I know, in- deed, that a narrow system may, at length, re-act upon the soul, and reduce it to its own standard, but it cannot tear from the soul those instincts so deeply rooted in it. And all that such a system can do, with reference to the essential nature of the soul, is to re- duce it to silence, but not to stifle it. In favour of the reality of human virtue, in some degree, we boldly invoke the testimony of all men, if not their express and voluntary testimony, at least that sudden and irresistible testimony which may be called the voice of nature. We shall obtain from them a testimony even more explicit than this, if we can, for a moment, induce them to descend into the arena where the facts wait to be combated. Of these facts we shall, without hesitation, abandon to them a great number. We shall consent to reject as far from the sphere of virtuous actions all those which may be explained by custom or prejudice; all those in reference to which, interest, gross or delicate, may have played a part ; all those which the applause of men might or could follow. They may do with such actions what they please ; we defend them not ; our cause can dispense with them. But as to those in which virtue can be explained only by virtue, — those which have been performed far from the eyes of man, and without any reasonable hope of ever attracting their attention, — those which, so far from having been able to count upon their suffrage, had, in prospect, only their con- tempt, — those in which opprobrium could not be converted into gtory by the enthusiastic adherence of a certain number of parti- zans, — those, in a word, which could never have existed unless there had been in the hearts of their authors an idea of duty or a sentiment of disinterestedness; all such they must leave us; and however small may be their number, and however widely separated by great distances on the earth, and by centuries of time, we bc- '• that thcv sufficiently protest against a vain denial, and in their mournful rareness prove the presence and perpetual action of a moral principle in the boson <>f the human race. We have, in this oaase, the (iospel itself in our favour. Wc see there tin- Bame writers win- h.ive taught us the entire fall and ooodctnoatioii of man. unhesitatingly according to human virtues t])O0e prefect which could OOt lie accorded to them in a system which denies all moral value in the actions of men. It is true JtU . i rw,i M*a Have li ^^^u.naXhcL)